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ixchel55.livejournal.com) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
crack_van2013-01-17 09:08 pm
ixchel55.livejournal.com) wrote in crack_van2013-01-17 09:08 pm
Touchpaper by entanglenow (explicit)
Fandom: TEEN WOLF
Pairing: Stiles/Derek
Length: 8310
Author on LJ:
Author Website: AO3
Why this must be read:I love hotter-than-the-sun FT sex. I love humor. And I love Stiles being oblivious about his own appeal and compensating with snark.
This story has it all – Stiles-snark in abundance, screamingly hot FT Stiles/Derek, and as a bonus it has Danny being cooler than cool. Until he isn’t. Probably the best part thought? The angriest, hottest and most hilarious werewolf striptease you could ever imagine.
Danny's quietly murmuring something about why Derek is always taking his clothes off in Stiles's room, but Stiles isn't really listening. Because for some bewildering reason Derek seems to be both angry and agreeing to Stiles's plan. This is definitely his angry, soon-to-be-half-naked way of taking one for the team.
Derek stands glaring in front of the mirror for a second, before he's catching hold of the bottom of his shirt and pulling it up so hard the stitching in one of the sleeves tears. It's audible even across the room, that angry snap of stitching. The material rolls over his shoulders with a stretch that looks obscene, and then drops to the floor. Derek lays his fists on the dresser and glares at himself. He's staring at his own naked chest like he's psyching himself up for some sort of epic, gladiatorial trial by combat - and Stiles knows he'd be a badass gladiator. He'd be a badass, werewolf gladiator who would probably wreck the shit out of all those ordinary gladiators, until they'd make him fight a tiger, or two tigers, or a bear. Or some sort of tiger-bear??
But, yeah, Danny's going to make a terrible, terrible hash job of disinfecting his werewolf scratch marks, since he no longer has eyes for anything but the low-riding waistband of Derek's jeans, and the slow bend of his spine, and the way Derek's glaring at his reflection like he kind of wants to fuck himself - in a dirty, angry, hate-sex-y sort of way.
Touchpaper
Pairing: Stiles/Derek
Length: 8310
Author on LJ:
Author Website: AO3
Why this must be read:I love hotter-than-the-sun FT sex. I love humor. And I love Stiles being oblivious about his own appeal and compensating with snark.
This story has it all – Stiles-snark in abundance, screamingly hot FT Stiles/Derek, and as a bonus it has Danny being cooler than cool. Until he isn’t. Probably the best part thought? The angriest, hottest and most hilarious werewolf striptease you could ever imagine.
Danny's quietly murmuring something about why Derek is always taking his clothes off in Stiles's room, but Stiles isn't really listening. Because for some bewildering reason Derek seems to be both angry and agreeing to Stiles's plan. This is definitely his angry, soon-to-be-half-naked way of taking one for the team.
Derek stands glaring in front of the mirror for a second, before he's catching hold of the bottom of his shirt and pulling it up so hard the stitching in one of the sleeves tears. It's audible even across the room, that angry snap of stitching. The material rolls over his shoulders with a stretch that looks obscene, and then drops to the floor. Derek lays his fists on the dresser and glares at himself. He's staring at his own naked chest like he's psyching himself up for some sort of epic, gladiatorial trial by combat - and Stiles knows he'd be a badass gladiator. He'd be a badass, werewolf gladiator who would probably wreck the shit out of all those ordinary gladiators, until they'd make him fight a tiger, or two tigers, or a bear. Or some sort of tiger-bear??
But, yeah, Danny's going to make a terrible, terrible hash job of disinfecting his werewolf scratch marks, since he no longer has eyes for anything but the low-riding waistband of Derek's jeans, and the slow bend of his spine, and the way Derek's glaring at his reflection like he kind of wants to fuck himself - in a dirty, angry, hate-sex-y sort of way.
Touchpaper
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