
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/1316392.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Teen_Wolf_(TV)
  Relationship:
      Scott_McCall/Stiles_Stilinski, Peter_Hale/Stiles_Stilinski, Isaac_Lahey/
      Stiles_Stilinski, Stiles_Stilinski/Jackson_Whittemore, Derek_Hale/Stiles
      Stilinski, Derek_Hale/Isaac_Lahey
  Character:
      Stiles_Stilinski, Derek_Hale, Peter_Hale, Jackson_Whittemore, Isaac
      Lahey, Scott_McCall
  Additional Tags:
      smut_smut_smut, Shameless_Smut, Blow_Jobs, Hand_Jobs, Rimming, Anal
      Fingering, Anal_Sex, Double_Anal_Penetration, Porn_With_Plot, Marking,
      Come_Marking, Scent_Marking, Spark_Stiles, Hate_Sex, Protective_Derek,
      Cuddly_Derek, Song_Lyrics, Sassy_Peter_Hale, Peter_Starts_Singing,
      Witches, BAMF_Stiles
  Series:
      Part 1 of Stiles_Getting_Laid_Because_Of_Magic
  Stats:
      Published: 2014-03-15 Updated: 2014-03-16 Chapters: 2/6 Words: 3265
****** A Spark Of Something Sexy ******
by Naturalized
Summary
     Stiles is having a boring day. Wait....A boring day? That doesn't
     exist in his world.
     Or the one where Stiles' Spark shows itself five different times and
     the wolves sense it in him, and the one time he has nothing to do
     with a hook up. 5+1 Fic!
Notes
     I'm horrible at summaries! :D
     This is just an experiment to develop my writing and also my smut.
     I'v only written one other fic that had a little heat in it but other
     than that this is my first time writing Pure Smut. So...I hope you
     enjoy and Constructive criticism is always welcome!
***** Best Friends or Boyfriends? *****
The first sound Scott hears in the morning is the incessant buzzing of his
phone from the pocket of his pants...which happen to be all the way across the
room. Ugh.
"What do you want Stiles?" He mumbles once he crawls from the confines of his
bed and across the floor to grab his phone and then to retreat back to the
safety and warmth of his blankets.
"Good morning to you too Scott, I'm doing just fine." Stiles quips back, and
Scott can almost feel him rolling his eyes over the phone. "I called to see if
you were free to chill today...?"
Scott chews on his lip before answering. "Well...I was going to hang out with
Allison today...Try and patch things up with her..." He said hesitantly.
"Dude! I haven't seen you in forever! Between you trying to mend things with
Allison, dealing with being an Alpha, and me taking on lessons from Deaton, we
never get Bro Time anymore!" Stiles whined, the sound growing louder at the end
until it was all Scott could do to stand his ground.
"But...I gotta-" Scott started before being cut off by Stiles.
"I'll make you breakfast! Dude I just got the new Bioshock Infinite:Burial At
Sea game and I wanted to try it out today with you!" Stiles forced out quickly
before Scott could straight out deny him.
"Will there be bacon?...And eggs?" Scott inquired, slowly losing his resolve.
"And sausage and bagels and Cranberry Juice! I know that's your favorite!"
Stiles hummed, almost visibly waggling the offer under Scott's nose.
"Pick me up in twenty?" Scott sighed, kicking the blankets off and moving off
his bed to grab a towel.
"Sure thing. Now go get your werewolf butt in the shower you probably smell
like dog!" Stiles laughed hanging up to the sound of Scott sighing heavily and
scoffing.
********************
Twenty minuets later Stiles is parked outside the McCall residence, patiently
waiting for Scott to haul ass out of the house. He is just about to start
honking the horn when the front door flies open and said friend piles into
Stiles' Jeep with a soft huff.
"Good to see ya buddy!" Stiles says cheerfully, patting Scott on the shoulder
as he makes a U-Turn to head back to his house.
"Yeah you too." Scott replies with a dopey smile plastered to his still half
asleep face as Stiles drives down the road. His hair is still dripping from the
shower and he starts shaking his head left to right a few times, making the
droplets hit the windows and Stiles' cheek.
"Hey just because you're part of the dog family now, doesn't mean you gotta go
shaking out your "coat" all over my car!" Stiles yelps, wiping the water from
his face and eyeing Scott.
That's when it happens. In the split second that Stiles wasn't looking at the
road. The moment right when a kid decided to run across the street to catch up
with his friends on the other side.
And then suddenly the kid isn't in front of the Jeep anymore, the Jeep is still
cruising down the street and Scott screams for Stiles to stop the car. He
whirls around in his seat to see the kid running across the street to meet his
friends...But...Behind them now, and when he looks back at Stiles the
mischievous smile he gets back in return is one that sends a strange shiver
down his spine. That's when he smells it, the distinct smell of Stiles' spark.
Magic. Hot, sweet, and irresistible.
********************
They are sitting in Stiles' room. On his bed, controllers in hand and Stiles
still smells...amazing, and he tries to ignore the smell wafting from his best
friend, he really does try, but Scott just can't take it anymore.
"Jesus, Stiles!" Scott growls out loudly, turning to Stiles and roughly pushing
him back on the bed by his hips. "Why do you smell so fucking good?"
"S-Scott?" Stiles get out before the werewolf is at his neck, lapping and
sucking, and he is keening, tipping his head back to expose more skin. He knows
exactly what he is doing, presenting himself to Scott's wolf, offering his neck
to the beast, but something is telling him that it's right. While a small voice
in the back of Stiles' mind is screaming that what is happening is wrong on so
many levels. Stiles can't seem to find the means to care at the moment.
This really shouldn't be happening, and what Stiles meant by that was, he
really shouldn't be getting turned on by his best friend-STRAIGHT BEST FRIEND-
biting and sucking at his neck. He should be pushing Scott away, climbing off
of his bed, putting distance between them, but he finds himself tangling his
fingers into the light brown hair on Scott's head and holding him there, at his
neck, blood rushing south at every soft grunt and bite that moves across his
skin.
And if Stiles wants to keep this from getting any more weird than it already
is, he should probably start thinking of things that will put his dick down,
because at the rate things are going, he is going to be at full attention in
about 2.5 seconds. Then he's reeling, the feeling of a hot hand rubbing against
his erection through his jeans, causing him to ground out a moan as said hand
is squeezing and tugging at the fabric.
"Smell so fucking hot." Scott growls again, tongue traveling up Stiles' neck to
lick and bite at his earlobe, breathing hotly into his ear. Scott is pulling
back, moving to get a leg between Stiles' and pressing Stiles farther into the
mattress. All Stiles can do is whine at the loss of contact before breaking off
into a moan when Scott rubs their hips together, and Stiles can feel just how
much his best friend is turned on too. The heavy, thick pressure of Scott's
dick rubbing against his hip is extremely hard to ignore when Scott drapes
himself along Stiles' body to slot their lips together in a wet, sloppy
kiss.When their lips part again it's only because Scott is peeling both their
shirts off, tossing them to the ground and reclaiming his position over Stiles
and his lips.

Scott takes advantage of the distraction to run a hand up Stiles' chest to
pinch and rub a thumb over the his left nipple, causing it to harden beneath
the pad of his finger, a loud gasp from the boy and a rather harsh bite to his
own bottom lip. Then said thumb is dragging a searing hot line down Stiles'
stomach, to the button of his jeans and a hand is popping the button, dragging
the zipper down and all he can do is buck his hips into the hand that dips down
the front of his boxers to wrap around his dick.
His hands move of their own accord as Stiles slides his hands up Scott's back
to dig his blunt nails into soft skin and drag them harshly down the length of
Scott's spine, and the moan he gets from the boy above him is more than
satisfactory. However his small victory is short lived, for his wrists are
being grabbed roughly and pinned to the pillow above his head as he struggles
to free himself from the tight grip. Being pinned down by a werewolf should
not-should NOT- be one of Stiles' kinks, but hey, he knew the things he liked
were weird.
"Ah! Scott!" Stiles gasps out, bucking his hips up into Scott's hand again and
again, feeling the pre-cum making the friction slick and easy, and then the
hand is gone. What he feels next is beyond anything his imagination could have
come up with, because Scott is shucking both of their pants to slide their
cocks together, thrusting his hips and using the pearls of pre-cum from the
both of them as lube.
Back and forth. Stiles feels every push and pull Scott is making and it takes
all his will power just to remember to breathe. If he didn't focus on that
Stiles is sure he would be dead because his lungs are burning, aching for more
air than they are getting. Thank god his dad is working the day shift because
the noises Scott is making above him is causing him to reciprocate with his own
moans and gasps.
"Fuck, Stiles! Feels so good, smell so good." And Scott is naturally limited
with vocabulary, but this is just ridiculous. Stiles is just about to voice
this observation when Scott chooses that exact moment to wrap his hand around
both their dicks, making the pressure and heat way more intense than it was
just moments ago.
And, yeah, Stiles doesn't have much to say or even think after that other than
obscene moans and whines. His hands and wrists are still pinned to the pillow
and it makes his shoulders ache on just the right side of painful when he
arches his back on one long stroke of Scott's hand.
All the sensations are pooling low in his stomach and he knows it's coming
soon, or rather HE'S coming soon. Stiles feels the need to warn Scott of his
oncoming release but then Scott's thrusts stutter and become erratic, his
grunting and moans come faster, and soon his chest and stomach is being coated
in white hot stripes, and fuck, wow that should not drag him over the edge, but
it does. Seeing his best friend cum on him, on his chest, sends him spiraling
into his own orgasm and he's shouting Scott's name like a prayer into the
silence of the house, back arching off the bed and the fist around him
tightening and milking every last drop from him. He is slumping back against
the comforter under him and his wrists are released as Scott rolls off to his
side, panting heavily and wiping sweat from his neck and forehead.
He thinks its over, when suddenly he gets an itch in the middle of his chest
and he drags his hand up his stomach to scratch at it. He's to lazy to actually
lift his hand, and since he needs to take a shower anyways, he drags his
fingers through the cooling stripes of cum, smearing it across his skin. And
just because he's curious, he brings his fingers up to his lips, rolling the
strange not bitter, but not sweet taste of Scott on his tongue. It's not a bad
taste, and he has, again out of curiosity, tasted himself before. He barely
hears the gasp that comes from next to him but he gazes over to see Scott's
eyes fixed intensely on his lips that are wrapped around his fingers.
"That was so fucking hot." Scott moans, moving his hand to scoop some cum onto
his fingers, bringing them up to Stiles' lips, and if Stiles moans around his
fingers as he sucks them into his mouth, then that can be kept a secret between
the two of them.
***** Everything Is Always Peter's Fault *****
Chapter Summary
     Stiles REALLY hates witches.
Chapter Notes
     Hello! If you are reading this then you already read my first chapter
     and I love you for making it this far! This entire fic is dedicated
     to my lovely Lizzy Lizard because without her I would never have even
     thought of writing this 5+1! So Yeah thank her for the birth of this
     guys!
It's Peter's fault. Everything is always Peter's fault.
"Go with Peter, they said. It'll be fun, they said." Stiles scoffed, looking
around at the predicament they were in. Okay, nobody really said it would be
fun, but Stiles needed to blame somebody for this. "This" being he and Mr.
ZombieWolf himself, surrounded by chanting witches, making a circle around them
and coming closer rather quickly. If it weren't for stupid Peter and his stupid
singing-who was Stiles kidding Peter was a great singer. Who knew?-they would
not even be in this situation.
"Shut up and stay behind me Stiles." Peter huffs out, moving to put himself
between Stiles and "The Enemy", which in fact is useless since they are
surrounded and Peter can't cover all sides. In the end they decide to stand
back to back as the circle closes in around them and the coven leader steps
forward.
"We warned you not to seek us out, young warlock." She said, addressing Stiles,
and moving reveal a long, silver dagger from beneath her...Cloak? Robe? Stiles
had to admit, this was the crappiest looking Coven he's ever seen, and he
had watched the unrealistic American Horror Story: Coven, but this was just too
much. He wanted to laugh really. They were all wearing cloaks of some color but
they were all mix-matched, some too short or too long, and some of them even
looked like Bathrobes!
"Okay, listen here, Witch-Bitch. We didn't come looking for you, we just
stumbled along your little...Gathering." Stiles spit out, glancing over at the
dead bodies that the Coven had sacrificed before they showed up. They managed
to interrupt the ritual that the Witches had been preforming, and in the
process had somehow freed the remaining two sacrifices. The lie slipped out
easily and he winced slightly at the fact that it had come out so simply with
no trouble. He really needed to stop lying so much, but in this case who really
cared?
"We cannot let you go free now. We must complete the ritual before sunrise, and
you will just have to fit the part. A young Warlock, and an Undead Werewolf,
such a peculiar team." The leader droned on, reaching her free hand up to
stroke the dagger that she held. "Surrender to us and we will make your deaths
clean and quick."
Peter shook with silent laughter behind Stiles, and after a beat of silence
started singing once again. "Mommy's alright, Daddy's alright. They just seem a
little weird, Surrender! Surrender! But don't give yourself away!" The look he
received from Stiles was just too much and he broke off into a loud, gleeful
laugh. Stiles is gunna fucking kill him if they got out of this alive.
"Really Peter? Cheap Trick? I don't think the time is appropriate for your
stupid singing." Stiles ground out between his teeth, because seriously, he was
just about ready to ask the Witch-Bitch for her dagger and sacrifice Peter
himself. Okay Stiles, think, there are seven of them and two of you, how can
you get out of this without having Peter kill everyone?
"There are seven of them Peter, what do you suggest?" Stiles whispered to
Peter, turning his head slightly to the right to glance over his shoulder at
the older man. What he was not expecting was Peter to start singing. AGAIN.
"Seven Devils all around you, Seven Devils in your house! See I was dead when I
woke up this morning, and I'll be dead before the day is done." Yep, Stiles was
going to fucking murder him.
"Are you fucking serious right now??? Florence And The Machine??? You have
seriously got to be fucking kidding me. You're gunna do this shit right now?"
Stiles flailed, waving his hands wildly, feeling the need to punch Peter
repeatedly.
"That's enough!!" The lady screamed, her wide eyes wild and crazed. Stiles was
almost expecting her hair to turn into snakes and hiss at him, and the thought
nearly made him laugh at his own stupid thoughts.
"'Cause sooner or later, We'll wonder why we gave up! The truth is everyone
knows, Almost, almost is never enough!" Peter sang loudly, and Stiles was just
so fucking done he didn't even have the words to comment this time. How the
hell did Peter know Ariana Grande anyways??? That was apparently the breaking
point for the woman, because then she shrieked-literally, high pitched
shrieking-a battle cry and the other six witches lunged at the two.
Stiles wasn't really sure what to do other than try and fight off the two
witches that came at him, while Peter struggled with the other four. Stiles
could feel the electric current running under his skin, making him feel like he
was covered in buzzing bees, and he knew something was about to happen. Deaton
had yet to teach him how to use his magic in battle, but Stiles was sure it was
going to happen right here any moment.
The buzzing grew stronger and stronger until suddenly, Peter was shoved back,
bumping into Stiles and, without realizing it, setting off the spark. With a
shout, Stiles squeezed his eyes closed as he was releasing all the pent up
energy flowing through him. The woods grew silent around them, save for a heavy
breath panting for air a few feet away from him, and Stiles popped his eyes
open to see why. When he looked around he found Peter kneeling on the ground,
his dark grey Henley torn and the skin beneath is cut open from the witches
daggers. He then looked around them, to see said witches laying unconscious, at
least 20 feet from them in crumpled heaps. His magic had done that. Stiles'
magic had saved them from danger. He was an official badass.
"Peter? Are you alright?" Stiles asked, moving closer to check on the older
man. Peter held out his hand, silently asking for help up and Stiles, like the
nice person he is, grabbed Peter's hand and tried to pull him up to his feet.
What he didn't expect, was for the werewolf to pull Stiles roughly into his lap
and cup his face.
"That was absolutely amazing Stiles." Peter breathed, gazing at the younger boy
with amazement and wonder in his eyes. Stiles stared back in shock and searched
Peter's face, his gaze lingering on Peter's lips and flicking back up to bright
blue eyes. Before he could reply his thanks to Peter, hot lips were on his,
rough and insistent, and he melted instantly. Stiles moved to straddle Peter's
lap, and the older man reached out to hold the younger by his hips, and kissed
back more urgently. Soon enough, a clawed hand was gripping Stiles' ass,
pulling him closer and digging in just slightly, making the boy gasp and jump
slightly.
The slight prick of Peter's claws sends his blood rushing to places it
shouldn't be, he shouldn't even be kissing the ZombieWolf, but he's writing it
off as a Victory Kiss. Ya know like in the movies, how when the hero and
heroine save the day and then share a heated kiss? Yeah like that except...yeah
he's pretty sure they don't end up on the ground with their hands roaming into
dangerous territory in the movies. But, that's exactly what happened. While
Stiles was forming an explanation in his head, Peter had spun them around so
Stiles was on his back, a layer of leaves the only thing between him and the
cold earth. His hands are fisted in Peter's shirt and the wolf is licking at
his lips, asking for permission that Stiles gives willingly.
Stiles absentmindedly hears a soft whimpering sound, only to realize he's the
one making the noise and pulls back quickly. He didn't mean for things to get
so far but screw it, they were well past the point of no return, and if he was
going to hell better to do it with the devil himself.
"Not here." He get's out between labored breaths when Peter looks at him like
he wants nothing more than to jump his bones right there. Peter grins
mischievously and hauls Stiles up to his feet, only for the next second to
throw him over his shoulder and take off at a jog. Stiles can only imaging the
things that are going to happen when they get back to Peter's apartment.
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