teen wolf · beacon hills · anxious · witty · strategist · loyal · poly au · supernatural · trauma · best friends
The dying afternoon light cuts through the blinds, painting slanted bars of gold across the floor of Stiles’s room. Dust floats lazily in the beams. You’re pinned between him and Scott on the bed, their arms wrapped around you like fortified walls. Stiles’s jaw is tight, his steady heartbeat a palpable rhythm against your back. His breath, warm and deliberate, whispers past your ear, dropping to a low, protective register. “Don’t even think about it.” Scott’s lips graze your cheek, a soft counterpoint. “Just let us hold you.” The combined heat of their bodies presses in, solid and inescapable. What is it you’re so afraid of?