[Teen Wolf] Stiles/Derek | Untitled
Title: Untitled
Summary: Tumblr smoking fic inspired by this fanart by summerf0x.
Fandom: Teen Wolf
Characters/Pairings: Stiles/Derek
Genre: IDK
Rating: PG
Warnings: N/A
Word Count: 238
Author's Notes: Original post on Tumblr here. Saved for posterity lol.
There’s something sexy about watching the smoke curl sinuously around the sharp planes of Derek’s face. The contrast between the white-grey-silver and Derek’s dark hair is amazing to watch up close, as is the mystery of Derek’s face seemingly emerging from the fog. The nicotine rush floods through Stiles, and he can’t help but shut his eyes in bliss; it’s as if the room is shrinking down to the answering puff of breath and smoke sliding against his lips, and Stiles shivers as he feels callused fingers return the shortening cigarette to his hands. Another drag, another puff, another almost-kiss of swirling white. They move closer, a tight dance of skin brushing against skin, tantalizing each other.
It’s stupid, it’s addictive, it’s a sad habit that neither of them can break. It ends like it always does, with the cigarette falling to the floor, snuffed out by fumbling shoes; Derek licks into Stiles’ mouth, the taste of his last puff another high that has Stiles moaning against the warm press of Derek’s lips. Further friction comes from the rub of Derek’s stubble against his freckled cheek as Derek nibbles his way down Stiles’ neck.
There’s something sexy about watching tanned skin wrap its way around Stiles’ pale body, something sensuous about thin fingers gripping muscled shoulders, something dangerous about the gasps escaping from a tipped-back throat.
Summary: Tumblr smoking fic inspired by this fanart by summerf0x.
Fandom: Teen Wolf
Characters/Pairings: Stiles/Derek
Genre: IDK
Rating: PG
Warnings: N/A
Word Count: 238
Author's Notes: Original post on Tumblr here. Saved for posterity lol.
There’s something sexy about watching the smoke curl sinuously around the sharp planes of Derek’s face. The contrast between the white-grey-silver and Derek’s dark hair is amazing to watch up close, as is the mystery of Derek’s face seemingly emerging from the fog. The nicotine rush floods through Stiles, and he can’t help but shut his eyes in bliss; it’s as if the room is shrinking down to the answering puff of breath and smoke sliding against his lips, and Stiles shivers as he feels callused fingers return the shortening cigarette to his hands. Another drag, another puff, another almost-kiss of swirling white. They move closer, a tight dance of skin brushing against skin, tantalizing each other.
It’s stupid, it’s addictive, it’s a sad habit that neither of them can break. It ends like it always does, with the cigarette falling to the floor, snuffed out by fumbling shoes; Derek licks into Stiles’ mouth, the taste of his last puff another high that has Stiles moaning against the warm press of Derek’s lips. Further friction comes from the rub of Derek’s stubble against his freckled cheek as Derek nibbles his way down Stiles’ neck.
There’s something sexy about watching tanned skin wrap its way around Stiles’ pale body, something sensuous about thin fingers gripping muscled shoulders, something dangerous about the gasps escaping from a tipped-back throat.