@mssmartian : Jackson/Stiles “i’m a pop star with a bad
relationship rep and you’re a hot actor whose last two movies flopped, i think
we can help each other out” fake dating au
For winning third place in my giveaway, I promised a fic of
500+ words. This one? Is a lot more than 500 words. Sorry? I hope you enjoy!
Fic #35 in my 2017 Prompt Challenge
Damage Control.
Jackson/Stiles. Teen. Also on AO3.
When Jackson’s habit
of casual dating earns him the label of Casanova, his manager and best friend,
Danny, suggests that he do a little damage control. Enter Stiles Stilinski,
famous actor whose last two movies have apparently flopped. They already have a
sarcastic flirting going on, so Jackson knows getting Stiles to fake date him
is the best plan ever.
“You’ve got to do something about it, Jackson.”
“Like what?” Jackson takes a sip of his drink, frowning when
the stupid umbrella bumps against his nose. He pulls it out of the glass and
tosses it across the table at Danny. “You know how much I hate random shit in
my drinks.”
“Which is why I always make sure to ask for an umbrella
whenever I order you iced tea.” Danny smirks, and the bastard somehow manages
to still look like a total sweetheart instead of an ass. It’s a skill that
Jackson has never managed to master, even after thirteen years in the spotlight.
Anonymous asked:
Jackson/Stiles – Hi, I know it’s been ten years since we graduated high school
and we haven’t seen each other, but do you remember how we got schoolyard
married in third grade? Yeah. Me too.
Nonnie! I had so much fun writing this fic! I really hope you enjoy it. Fic #25 in my 2017 Prompt Challenge.
Improved With Age. Jackson/Stiles. Teen. Also on AO3.
Jackson is working a Saturday night in the ED when a drug bust gone bad brings a familiar face into his exam room
The Emergency Department at
Zuckerberg is packed on this
particular Saturday night. There’s been a five car pile-up on the 280, a minor fire
at a night club in the Castro that resulted in smoke inhalation, and the usual
bar fights and shootings that tend to happen on weekends when people have the
time to get liquored up without worrying about work the next morning. It’s
chaotic at any given time, but especially weekend nights.
Which is the main reason Jackson loves working weekend overnight shifts. Since he started his
Emergency residency a little over two years ago, he’s taken to it like a fish
to water.
The General has the only level one trauma center in the Bay area, too,
which means they get all the major cases. He’s been able to learn so much, and
he’s becoming a shining star in the residency program. Shiny enough that he’s
already been approached about possibly remaining when his residency ends next
year.
tonight, i’m going to lose it all (playing with fire)
There’s no doubt that Jackson receives thousands of tweets and subtweets from his fans on a daily basis. Sometimes he gets bored and reads through them, but mostly, he ignores them. Most of them are calling him Daddy, which really freaks him out, and many ask if he’s gay.
Jackson likes the fact that he hasn’t come out yet. It keeps the media and his fans on their toes. He stretches out across his bed, scrolling through his feed on Twitter. Honestly, his notifications are overwhelming. He used to want this. He used to so power-driven; he used to think that nothing else would bring him happiness. Well, now he’s here, and now he’s bored. He’s bored, tired, and unhappy.
He has the day off, which almost never happens these days. No one ever tells you that when you become famous you have to go here and smile there and hold that product super casually as you walk from your limo to a store. No one tells you that the paparazzi sucks but sometimes the fans suck more. There’s no guide.
He hit it big with his one modelling gig that landed him a job on a high-profile movie. Jackson found himself swept up in this world that he’d longed to be part of for so long. For what? So he could go to red carpet events, one arm wrapped casually around his best friend Lydia, kiss her cheek, and have the headlines splashed with questions about whether they are together or not. He loved Lydia, really he did. She made those stuffy, boring, kiss-ass events amusing when she’d lean in real close and whisper some snarky remark about the people around them.
Jackson stops scrolling when he sees a particular tweet.
[img tweet from stiles: stiles24: honestly jwhittemore should try dating me – his life would be immensely better fr]
Jackson snorts. Who does this kid think he is? He clicks on his twitter profile just for shits and giggles. His tweets aren’t overly interesting, but they keep Jackson on his profile longer than he should be.
Stackson AU: It’s their senior year of high school, and both Stiles and Jackson are broken and alone. They both are going through an existential crisis which seems to come with not knowing what to do after high school. Jackson didn’t get accepted into Harvard, the only college he bothered to apply to, to pursue law like his father. Stiles is facing the omnipresent question of what he wants to do with his life, because suddenly he isn’t so sure law enforcement is exactly his thing. It’s Jackson who starts it with a text, it was supposed to be a booty-call, but in their drunken stupor only cuddling ensued. Their senior year passed in a blur of fucking and booze, “C’s get degrees” and trying to figure their shit out. They talked more about life and future plans, than they did about the fact that they hated each other. Than slowly the “I think I’m going to”’s turned into “I think we should”’s. They decided that San Francisco was far enough away from home, and the John Adams Community College was a good start to getting credits without having a major set in stone. They rented a tiny apartment, that was somehow a mess all the time. Stiles got a job as a waiter at a hipster diner that had blossomed in the middle of downtown. Jackson worked in the library to reshelve books. They didn’t have to worry about money, because of Jackson’s inheritance, but they wanted to be self sufficient, so they stick with the money they make to pay their bills and to buy food. Sure, money is a bit tight, but their figuring shit out, and they have each other. They are both stupid and oblivious, because it’s Scott who points it out. “So are you two dating yet?” and it runs through Stiles’ mind on repeat till mid way through a very quiet meal together does Jackson finally sigh and ask what’s wrong. Stiles blurts out the question, which makes Jackson blink then a huge grin splits onto his face. “Yeah, I guess we are.”
It’s the End of the World as We Know It (And I Feel Fine) (7076 words) by Inell Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Teen Wolf (TV) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Stiles Stilinski/Jackson Whittemore Characters: Stiles Stilinski, Jackson Whittemore, Cora Hale, Original Characters Additional Tags: Future Fic, Established Relationship, Post-Apocalypse, Zombie Apocalypse, Canon-Typical Violence, Zombie Deaths, Engaged Stiles Stilinski/Jackson Whittemore, Romance, apocalypse boyfriends, Banter, Cora Hale & Stiles Stilinski Friendship, Different Take on Zombies, Reference to Pack, Gun Violence Summary:
When the outbreak happened, Stiles and Jackson were in New York City about to finish their senior year at college. Now, they’re back in California going on shopping raids while trying to avoid the infected. It’s not the life they expected to be sharing together, but this is their world now, and they’re adjusting pretty well.
When faced with deportation, hardass New York publisher Jackson Whittemore makes a proposal to his underappreciated assistant: marry him in exchange for promotion and publication. Stiles readily agrees, but has a few conditions of his own, like going to meet his eccentric family back in California during his dad’s 50th birthday.
After luxuriating in the afterglow for a
few minutes, enjoying the damp heat of Jackson’s breath in the crook of his
neck and the warmth of Jackson’s body lying on his own, Stiles started to
fidget. The feeling of their combined come was sexy as hell in the moment, but
now it was cooling on his belly and crotch it was starting to itch and annoy
him. Loath as he was to disturb the quiet warmth they had between them, they
had to clean up.
“Hey, Jackson – you come back down to
Earth yet?”
All he got in response to that was a snort
and a laugh.
“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up asshole but I
think you’ll find that I just blew your mind and you’re currently basking.”
At that Jackson popped his head up
suddenly, a dirty smirk on his face and a raised eyebrow making him look oh-so
arrogant and smug. God help Stiles, because that combination was apparently his
kryptonite.
“I don’t recall any blowing happening at
all Stiles – did I make you come so hard your memory is impaired?”
Stiles laughed out loud at that, and
thankfully kept his eyes open while doing so because it meant he got to see
Jackson’s face suddenly soften, his smirk turning into a warm smile. So it
seemed that he wasn’t alone in this whole thing after all, not alone in wanting
Jackson’s body against his own, and not alone in feeling happiness himself when
Jackson was happy. Frankly that reality was beyond any of his fantasies or
hopes for the two of them. He had been genuinely happy to be friends with
Jackson, while steeling himself for the inevitability of him finding a partner
and settling down and having to watch someone else fill that space in Jackson’s
life. And while he had thought that maybe one day something sexual might happen
between them, he thought to himself that it would be a one off thing and that
he would have to be the one to keep his wits about him and not let his emotions
spill all over the place. Reaching up to brush his fingertips through the hair
at Jackson’s temples, Stiles felt his heart thump as he realised that he was
wrong on both counts.
“I can see that brain ticking away
already, clearly I didn’t actually do that good of a job,” Jackson pouted. “In
which case I think it’s time to get up and clean up because I think my come has
been on your skin long enough for everyone within a miles radius to know you’re
taken.”
Before Stiles could sputter a response
Jackson flashed a fierce grin and leapt off the bed, strutting off towards the
bathroom with confidence in every line of his body. By the time Stiles’ body
caught up with his brain the sound of the shower running has already started
up, so Stiles scrambled off the bed to follow Jackson. It struck him as he
halted at the closed to door of the bathroom that Jackson does really know him,
well enough to jerk him out of his thoughts with snark and sarcasm that thinly
veils a statement of intent. Jackson wants
everyone to know that Stiles is taken, because Jackson doesn’t want to share,
Jackson wants them to be a them.
Grinning to himself Stiles knocked his
knuckles against the door that Jackson left ajar to keep the warmth inside,
checking if he’s invited in before intruding. They may have just had some
incredibly hot sexy times, but that doesn’t mean that Stiles has free reign to
go where he wants in Jackson’s home or get to impose himself on Jackson. He
never wants to put Jackson in the position that they had both found themselves
in when they were younger – not being in control of their bodies and what they
did. And supernatural possessions aside, Stiles remembers the discomfort he felt when he
would wake in his bed to Malia being wrapped around him when she had come into
the house while he was asleep without asking. They had worked it out together,
but that feeling had stuck with him and he had committed himself to never
making a lover feel that way.
“Come in Mr. Polite, I appreciate the
privacy but I want you to make me breakfast after this – so you’d better get in
here and get clean with me.”
Pushing the door open and seeing Jackson
through the steamed up glass of the shower enclosure was a memory that Stiles
was pretty sure would be crystallized in his memory for life. Sure, they had
showered together in the locker room at high school but the unspoken rule of
the locker room is that you maintain eye contact or just stare at the tiles.
Now he could look his fill, and oh what a feast Jackson was. Stiles ducked into
the room and closed the door fully behind him, the steam and heat of the room
matching the warmth in his belly as he slipped into the shower behind Jackson
and got to see the rivulets of water running down his back and ass in what
feelt like high definition.
“Pass me the shower gel and tell me what
you want for breakfast, asshole.”
Jackson turned to face Stiles, expensive
looking bottle of body wash in hand and smirked at Stiles.
“What, I lend you my apartment and my bed
and you don’t want to cook me some food as a thank you?” The smirk softened a
little as he watched Stiles soap himself up. “C’mon, it’s easier to talk if
there’s coffee and food on the table and I think you need to fuel up if you’re
gonna keep up with me.”
Stiles deliberately leant right into
Jackson’s space to put the body wash back on its shelf, feeling Jackson’s
erection pressed against his hip and knowing his was pressing just as
insistently into Jackson.
“I don’t think keeping up with you is
going be a problem,” Stiles whispered into Jackson’s ear. “We seem to be pretty
evenly matched here, don’t we?”
Jackson leant into Stiles’ body and tipped
his head back to rinse his face under the spray of the shower and then turned
them both around so that Stiles was under the shower. He watched with hungry
blue eyes while Stiles cleaned himself up and washed his hair while he was at
it. Stiles felt goose bumps break out across his skin despite the heat of the
water; having Jackson’s full attention on his body was a heady thing. The
tension of them both hard and wanting, but resisting touching, had him aching
in the best possible way. Jackson looked like he wanted to devour him, and somehow it was different from every other partner
that had looked at him with want in their eyes. Maybe it was because Jackson
was a werewolf, maybe this was some predatory instinct that had Stiles feeling both like a butterfly pinned to a board and like an object of adoration. He
watched Jackson watching him, waiting to see who would be the first to break.
Surprisingly it was Jackson who drew his gaze up to meet Stiles’ before stepping
back and out of the shower. Stiles reached up to scrub the last of the shampoo
out of his hair and greedily observed Jackson grabbing a towel and drying
himself off before wrapping it across his shoulders. Stiles followed him out
and was handed his own towel, thick and fluffy and probably just as expensive
as the bedding he had enjoyed so much the night before.
“Come on, you can borrow some clothes. I
don’t think I can handle you in pants that have buttons and a zip today.”
With that announcement and an arch look on
his face, Jackson left the bathroom and headed towards his closet while
toweling off his hair. The closet that was an actual room of its own off of his
bedroom. Stiles still thought it was hilarious that Jackson had so many
clothes, and sniggered as Jackson pulled out two pairs of sweatpants and threw
one towards Stiles.
“Dude, I’m pretty sure you could give
Lydia a run for her money in terms of wardrobe sizes. You are aware you can
pack a bag right? You don’t actually need to have a wardrobe at every place you
stay.”
Jackson scowled at him and threw a henley
at his face with more force than was strictly necessary.
“Put that on, you peasant. You should be
grateful I’ve got enough clothes here to share.”
Stiles dutifully pulled the sweats on, and
waggled his eyebrows at Jackson as he popped his head through the collar of the
shirt.
“I could always go naked, you know – if
I’ve really offended you.”
The only response to that was Jackson’s
eyes flashing blue, and Stiles wasn’t sure whether that was from annoyance or arousal at the idea of Stiles wandering around naked all day so he made a quick exit and
went to the kitchen to get started on some food. He already had bacon frying
and eggs ready to hit the pan by the time Jackson came out into the main living
area. Jackson got plates set out on the side and poured the coffee that Stiles had
put on as soon as he reached the kitchen. When it was all cooked they piled up
their plates and sat at the kitchen island. Stiles fell onto his food like a
starving man, the combination of his earlier hangover and then the mornings
more enjoyable activities catching up to him. Jackson ate slower, but still demolished a huge portion in reasonably short order.
“So,” Stiles took a sip of coffee and then
continued. “It’s easier to talk over food huh? I’m guessing that the heart to
heart was merely delayed by orgasms rather than permanently put off?”
Jackson winced, but nodded as he pushed
his knife and fork closed and stacked the plates on top of each other. He took
the plates over to the sink and started running the hot water, looking down
into the sink rather than at Stiles. It was a familiar sight after living with
Jackson for six months, he preferred doing the dishes by hand – said that the
dishwasher left a residue he could taste now that he was a werewolf. But the
lack of snark and conversation was less normal for them.
Stiles watched over the rim of his cup as
Jackson resolutely maintained his eye contact with the plughole. As much as
Jackson had learnt to read Stiles’ tells, and as much of an advantage as he had with werewolf senses, Stiles had learnt him just as well. The slightly raised
shoulders, the lack of eye contact, the apparent nonchalance, they were all
signs of Jackson wanting to voice something but not knowing how. Thankfully for
them both, Stiles knew how to approach difficult conversations with Jackson.
There had been plenty of them when he had returned from London and the pack had
had to fill him in on everything that had happened while he was gone. Since the
mess that was the nogitsune and its aftermath, Stiles had adopted a blanket policy of
honesty with the pack and his dad, as far as he could. And now that he and Jackson had stepped over the
line of friendship he knew that they needed everything out in the open. They
had both been hinting at their feelings for the whole morning, but someone
needed to be the first to lay their cards on the table and Stiles knew how
difficult Jackson found that. Stiles could handle it better; yes he had been
terrified of rejection before, but he was pretty sure that Jackson felt the
same way that he did so he could be the brave one if he had to.
“Okay, so. While you do the dishes, thanks
by the way I appreciate it, I’m going to say some things and you can interrupt
me whenever you like ‘cause I’m pretty sure I’m gonna ramble my way through
this. You don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to.” Stiles watched as a
little bit of the tension in Jackson’s shoulders eased, and he actually picked
up the sponge to begin washing the dishes rather than just staring at them.
“I think – no – I know that I would like
to be more than friends with you. And, um, I have felt like this for a while.
And I would like that more than friendship to be, you know, I mean I don’t just
want-” Stiles could feel the tension growing in his own body. Saying this all
out loud after so long keeping it inside, well, it was scary even if he thought
there was a safety net. It was still scary. He looked down at his hands on the
tabletop, drumming his fingers against the surface, and tried to find the best
way to sum up his feelings only to come up short when Jackson sat heavily in
the seat next to him. Their shoulders were brushing, and the warmth of
Jackson’s body settled some of the anxiety that had been rising in him. Jackson
was looking straight ahead, still avoiding eye contact, and his jaw was
clenched – but there was a slight blush high on his cheeks.
“It’s not fair to let you do this all by
yourself,” Jackson suddenly said into the tense quiet. “I – I know you’ve
wanted to have sex with me. And. Well. I think I know that you want more than
just friends-with-benefits.” Jackson swallowed hard and then turned, catching
Stiles’ eyes and keeping his gaze as he continued. “I want us to be more than
friends, I want us to be what we are already but more. I want everyone to know.
I want to be able to say you’re mine and I’m yours. I want you in my space – I like you being in my space because then
it’s our space.”
Stiles could feel his heart racing and
knew that Jackson could hear it, and he just couldn’t stop the grin from
spreading across his face even though he was sure he looked like an idiot. This was better than any of his
fantasies. Jackson still had this earnest look on his face, and Stiles realised
he hadn’t responded yet other than with what was probably a slightly manic
expression.
“Yes! Yes. That is, yes, that is exactly
what I want. From you. Us. I mean that is- fuck it.” Stiles leaned across and
grabbed Jackson by the nape of his neck, dragging him in for a surprisingly gentle
kiss. “Yes,” he whispered against Jackson’s lips, and felt them curve into a
smile against his own.
@inell thank you for the endless and totally gentle encouragement!
Take my thoughts with you, and when you look behind You will surely see a face that you recognize.
stackson au: Where Jackson remains in Beacon Hills during the events of 3b and tries to lead a somewhat normal life again, along with the rest of the pack, after Allison’s death and overall chaos that ensued while Stiles was possessed by the Nogitsune. In the meantime, Stiles suffers in silence. His cries are muzzled by a feeling of intense guilt and grief. He blames himself deeply for what happened, still unable to comprehend the loss the pack has experienced.
Remembering how it felt like, how horrible it was to be conscious inside a body that was no longer his to command, Jackson tried to reach out to Stiles. It started simple. Jackson sat with him during lunch, offered his homework, helped during lacrosse practices and asked to hang out after school a couple of times. The more time he spent with Stiles, the more Jackson realized he’s slowly shedding the cocky and arrogant layer of his personality, giving Stiles not only a friend to lean on, but maybe even something more. He was meeting Stiles’ vulnerability with his own. He was showing Stiles that he’s not alone. Not now. Not ever.
shealwaysreads 