Snippets & Musings That Have Been Rolling Through My Head for Three Days

[Hoobastank’s “Inside of You” has been on repeat in background while this scene unfolds in the foreground and all of it is taking place in my head at the same time.]

Inside of You

Ten weeks.

Ten weeks since they met.

Eight weeks since they became lab partners.

Six weeks since they had begun studying at one another’s houses in semi-regular intervals.

Ten weeks of longing.

Eight weeks of subtle hints.

Six weeks of slight innuendo.

Four weeks of blatant stares and deliberate signals.

Stiles was utterly clueless.

She was utterly frustrated.

What the hell did she have to do to get inside of him?

She knew she wanted him the first time they met at the police station.  Her mom was a new deputy and his father was the Sheriff.  Her first thought was that he was utterly adorable and kind of dorky and awkward, but it was endearing.  He had taken her proffered hand when her mom introduced her and maybe it was just her, but she felt lightning shoot from her hand right to her groin at his touch.  He smiled and welcomed her to town and she was lost from there.

For two weeks all she could think about was his honey-brown eyes and his perfect pink lips.  And they were perfect.  Kissable.  They looked like they belong on her more so than him.  But that was Stiles.  He was pretty like a girl, but it didn’t take from his masculinity; she could definitely tell that he was all man.

School began and she hoped against hope that she would see him, get to hear his sweet voice.  She doubted very much that he would remember her or even notice her; that was how it was with her.  She wasn’t homely by any means, but Lydia Martin she was not.  She wore jeans that were not skinny, Boondock Saints tee shirts and whatever color Chucks happened to match her shirt.  She was a nerd who enjoyed school and books and didn’t really party.  She was klutzy but not in a way where people noticed and laugh.  Usually, she blended into the background, invisible, and for the last few years of her life, she had been grateful for that.  She didn’t like attention and certainly didn’t want people looking at her.  But now…now she would give anything to be noticed, but only by one particular boy who drove a two-toned Jeep and could make skinny jeans and flannel shirts over obscure tees look ridiculously adorable.

No such luck.  He did not notice her outside before the first bell rang, nor did he notice that they were in the same homeroom or see her passing in the halls.  And then in third-period Chemistry they were partnered.  He looked put-off and watched sadly as the boy he had been sitting with, Danny, moved to sit with his new assigned partner.  When she moved into Danny’s place he spared her a quick glance and then turned back to actually look at her, “Carmen, hey.” He smiled.

Stiles smiled at her and it was all she could do to keep her freak-out internal at the thought that he had remembered her name.  “Hi.”

“How’s Beacon Hills High treating you so far?”

“So far, so good, but this is only my fourth class.” She smiled.

They chatted briefly about her classes before the teacher took control of the class and they began actually learning on the first day.

Carmen thought she could be happy just to get to look at him up-close five days a week and be content.  And then lunch happened.  She found herself in line behind him and it was all she could do to keep from dropping her tray.  He noticed her as they moved down the line and grinned.  “Hey again,” he smiled and then began giving her the dos and don’ts of BHH cafeteria food.  As they left the food line he jerked his head in the direction he was headed and said, “C’mon, I’ll introduce you.”

Carmen sat next to Stiles and met Scott, Allison, Lydia, Jackson, Danny and Isaac.  They were a very strange group, but she didn’t judge; she was just thankful that no one had berated Stiles for bringing her to their table.

Two weeks later she found herself at Stiles’ house; in Stiles’ bedroom working on an assignment for Chemistry and eventually studying their other subjects in common.  She took in everything, every picture and poster, every piece of memorabilia, every smell.  Stiles had a distinct scent, sweet and salty and musky and…Stiles.  She took in every inch of his fair skin, every scar and freckle and decided that Stiles wasn’t adorable, he was beautiful and she would give anything to get inside of him.

So she started throwing out little hints.  She changed her body language, made little comments, smiled—a lot!  But nothing.  Either Stiles had no clue or hoped that ignoring her would make her stop.  But once Carmen got an idea into her head she would not stop until she got results, whether they were positive or negative.

Stiles was kind of flakey.  He stood her up for half of their study dates and he’d even called ahead to cancel about half of the time.  She was beginning to think that these were his subtle hints that he wasn’t interested.

And then Carmen got it; Stiles had a thing for Lydia Martin even though she only had eyes for Jackson Whittmore.  That didn’t stop her wanting and in that they were the same, longing for people who didn’t long for them.

And there she was, in his bedroom again, studying and staring.  Staring at his pretty, pink, kissable lips, wanting and longing and not getting anywhere.

“Are you okay?”

“Huh?” she shook coming back to herself and letting her eyes refocus on his big, soft, brown eyes.  She almost sighed in longing.

“You were staring at me.  Is everything okay?”

“Oh, I was?”  Damn it Carmen get a hold of yourself, she scolded herself.  “I was—I’m not really sure where I was, in space I guess.” She shrugged and gave quiet sort of half-laugh.

Stiles nodded, “I get that, we all know I have a really hard time staying focused.” He chuckled and went back to his book.

“Um, Stiles?”

“Yes Carmen?”

“There is a ridiculously beautiful man outside of your window.”

She saw a flash of panic in his eyes as his head whipped around to look out his window.  There was a complete change in his body language as he rushed to the window, opened in and let the dark-haired man inside.

“Dude, I have a front door.” Stiles said in a half-whisper, half-groan.

“Stiles, when have I ever used your front door?” he said in a matter-of-fact tone.  And then his eyes moved over her.

They literally moved over her.  He checked her out from head to toe and while he was at it, she did the same.  Stiles was beautiful in her eyes, but this guy…he had to be beautiful in every bodies’ eyes.  He was a bit taller than Stiles with dark hair styled like he’d just been fucked.  He had dark scruff growing over his cheeks and chin, which was absurdly sexy.  And his eyes…he had probably the most beautiful pair of eyes she had ever seen.  She wasn’t positive if they were green or gray or some weird combination of the two, and she felt like she could quite possibly drown in them if she didn’t look away. “Who’s she?” she heard him ask Stiles.

“My lab partner, Carmen.  Carmen this is my…friend, Derek.” Stiles introduced, but his voice sounded pained.

“Hi.” She smiled and gave a small wave in his direction.  She’s not positive, but she thought she growled at her in greeting.

In an almost panicked voice, “And as you can see, we’re doing homework, so can you come back later?”

Derek looked from Stiles to her and back to Stiles, “No.” he said simply.

“Really?” Stiles whined.

“I need to talk to you.” He said gruffly.  “Alone.”

Carmen had no idea what was going on, but it was evident that Derek didn’t want her to there.   She stood and began closing her books, “Stiles, I can go—”

“No—Carmen, it’s fine.”

“Stiles.”  Derek said and in that one word, Carmen heard so much; anger, irritation, demand.

“Just…Carmen could you give us a minute?  Why don’t you go raid the fridge for snacks?”

“Sure.” She said and gave them both a once over before leaving the room.

She could hear their sort-of-angry, sort-of-harried conversation down stairs and couldn’t make out what was being said, but knew some of it had to do with her.  Carmen was beginning to worry that maybe she should have insisted on leaving.

She wasted as much time as she could downstairs without making it seem like she was purposely avoiding going back up.  She came back with a few snack-sized bags of chips and bottles of water.  Derek was sitting on Stiles’ bed; leaning against the headboard reading a magazine, looking for all the world like that’s exactly where he belonged.  He glanced up at her as she entered the room and if looks could kill she’s pretty sure she would have burst into flames.  Stiles was back in his chair, books open and looking for all the world like he wanted to floor to open up and swallow him.

“I didn’t know if you wanted anything so…” she let the sentence hang as she sat her burdens on the desk.

Stiles smiled up at her, “Thanks.” He said and then tossed a bottle of water to Derek who caught it with barely a look at which direction it came from.

Carmen noted that the air in the room had changed.  “Everything okay?” she asked Stiles looking from him to Derek.

Stiles glanced back at Derek and back to Carmen, “Oh, don’t mind him; he’s just gonna hang while we finish up.”

“Are you sure, I could—”

“No.” Stiles said insistently, placing his hand over hers that was reaching for her books.  “Stay.” He said looking at her intently and then he realized his hand was holding hers down.  He pulled it away suddenly, “We have work to do.” He shrugged as though everything was normal.

Carmen nodded, resituated herself and got back to work.  But as usual she couldn’t stay focused.  She couldn’t figure out what exactly had just happened.  So she watched Stiles and watched Derek and watched Derek watch Stiles and watched Derek watching her watching them.

And then she got it.

Stiles wasn’t clueless, he was taken.

Taken by someone that didn’t go to school with them.

Taken by someone that obviously his friends didn’t know about because she hadn’t heard anyone so much as utter the name Derek.

Stiles was Derek’s and clearly Derek could see that Carmen wanted Stiles to be hers.

He had growled at her.

He was possessive.

That was hot.

Carmen used to fantasize about seeing Stiles between her legs.  And now…now she was fantasizing about seeing Stiles between Derek’s legs, because, fuck, Derek was sex on legs.

She wondered if he was as rough as he looked.  Stiles didn’t have enough hair to tug on so maybe Derek led him around by the back of his neck.  She could picture him pressing Stiles’ down between his legs and watching those pretty pink lips spread as they engulfed his cock.

Carmen chanced a quick glance at Derek and she swore she could feel his arousal from across the room.  And if the way he was eye-fucking Stiles was any indication, she was pretty sure he was thinking what she was thinking.

She wondered if he made Stiles get on his knees.  If his fingers left bruises on his hips from holding tight as he drilled into Stiles from behind.

Or maybe he took him from the front.  Maybe he liked looking at those pretty pinks lips as they opened to pant and moan as he draped Stiles’ legs over his shoulders and pressed into him hard and deep.

Maybe he liked Stiles on top, riding him.  Stiles’ hands pressed against his broad chest, head thrown back as he impaled himself on Derek’s cock over and over and—she wondered what the hell she had to do to get in the middle of that sandwich!



Carmen quickly shook off the fantasy, but the damage was done.  Her face was flushed, she was almost sweaty, the heaving of her chest made her elevated heart rate clearly visibly and she now had an insistent throbbing between her legs.

“Are…” Stiles took a moment to take her in and realized that she hadn’t just spaced out; something was wrong.  “Are you okay?” he asked concern laced his tone.

“I…I’m fine.  I just…” Movement in her peripheral vision made her glance at Derek who was now staring at her.  No, not staring at her.  Carmen’s not sure what she would call the look he was giving her, but it was as if he knew exactly what she had been thinking.


Her eyes shot back to Stiles, “I just need to use the bathroom.” She said and half stumbled, half ran from the room.

Stiles looked at Derek who only shrugged.

Carmen went into the bathroom, leaned against the locked door, tucked her hand inside her pants and relieved the tension that had built between her legs.  She had to bite her lip to keep from calling out as visions of Derek fucking Stiles brought her to orgasm fast and hard.

Once her breathing calmed and her head cleared she felt utterly mortified by what she had just done.  She panicked briefly as though they would know what she had actually been doing and that got her heart racing again because she was picturing them together again.  She flushed the toilet, washed her hands, smoothed over her clothes before heading back into Stiles’ room.

One look at Derek’s smirk and she was completely unnerved.  “I—I hafta go.” She stuttered and began grabbing at her things.

“What?  What’s wrong?  Are you okay?” Stiles asked excitedly.

“No, I think…I think something I ate didn’t agree with me.  I’m gonna go home, drink some Pepto and go to bed.  I…” she caught Derek’s eye and her heart stopped momentarily at the look he gave her; knowing and sultry and amused.  He definitely knew what she had been thinking.  “I’ll see you in class.” She said to Stiles and then left in a flurry of movement.

Stiles sat there staring at the empty space she had occupied only moments ago.  “Huh?”  He spun in his chair, took one look at Derek and knew.  “I don’t know how, but I know you did that!” he accused.

“Stiles how could I have given her a stomach ache?” Derek shrugged.

“Stomach ache my ass.  She probably got scared from you being all growly at her.”  Derek shrugged.  “You know it wouldn’t kill you to be nice to people.  Especially people like Carmen; she’s sweet.”

“Do you like her?”

“Sure.  She’s funny and nice and she’s into comics.  And she totally understands me when I babble and doesn’t ask me to slow down—or shut up.” He aimed a Derek.  “Scott says she the female equivalent of me.  Actually…she’s kinda becoming more of a friend than Scott these days.”

“Friend, huh?” Derek said, not bothering to look up from the magazine he was flipping through.

“Yes, you know if you growled at people less and smiled at them more, you might make a few yourself.”

Derek sat the magazine down and looked up at Stiles.  He smiled at how clueless Stiles was and wondered if he would ever figure it out for himself or would one of them have to explain it to him.  For someone who was so smart, he was really dumb.  “Whatever, since she’s gone home to—” Derek caught himself before saying what she was really going home to do, “Can we deal with my problem now?”

“I guess my homework can take a backseat to your supernatural werewolf business like it usually does.” Stiles sighed and opened his laptop…


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