briecheesie:

reluctantbadger:

icouldbepackstiles:

This gif
Has been the death of me.
Goodbye Cruel world 

#Everything About This Is Sexual

Derek wraps his fingers around Stiles’ wrists tightly, careful not to apply too much pressure, and pries Stiles’ hands from his chest, holding the boy back.

“Stiles,” he hisses, trying to get through to him past the cloudy eyes and whatever magic he’d been doused with when the witch had attacked. “Stop.”

The corner of Stiles’ mouth twitches upward and Derek can see the flash of heat that passes over his expression as he flexes his wrists against Derek’s grasp. Immediately, Derek releases Stiles, taking a step back.

“I don’t think you want me to stop,” Stiles murmurs, sauntering closer with his whole body exuding something that Derek feels is a threat so much sleeker, more dangerous, than an animal hunting its prey. Derek has seen the bloodshed of nature, grew up in a world of hunters and wolves, and he has never been so aware of how very weak he is until this moment.

“Stiles,” he tries again, clearing his throat, knowing Stiles heard the way his voice cracked by the slick grin on his face. “Stop. This isn’t what you want.”

“You idiot.” Stiles voice is barely above a whisper as he closes the gap between them, pressing his chest fully against Derek. His lips graze Derek’s, breath hot and curling into Derek’s mouth as he says, “You got no idea what I want.”