A/N: This is my first Teen Wolf attempt. I figured a one shot would be the easiest way to dabble with some of my favorite Beacon Hills characters. Please, be kind.
I DO NOT OWN TEEN WOLF OR THE CHARACTERS.
Music Credit: "Just the Girl" – Click Five (tweaked a bit to better fit the story)
~*.*~
'He's cold and he's cruel, but he knows what he's doin'.
He pushed me in the pool at our last school reunion.
He laughs at my dreams, and I dream about his laughter.
Strange as it seems, he's the one I'm after.
'Cause he's bittersweet – he knocks me off my feet and I can't help myself.
I don't want anyone else.
He's a mystery – he's too much for me, but I keep coming back for more.
He's just the guy I'm lookin' for.'
~*.*~
"Shut up, Scott. If you bring up Jackson one more time, I swear to God, I'm going to show Allison your baby pictures. And don't think for a second that I won't, because I promise you, I'm not above it. You don't see me waving your obsession with Allison in your face every two seconds - do you? No, you don't. Do you know why? Because I'm your best friend and it's not my job to torture you." I growled.
Scott didn't look fazed. Ever since I let it slip that I was crushing on the mighty, egotistical jerk that is Jackson, he's been holding it over my head relentlessly. I'm getting freaking tired of it.
Yes, I used to be in love with Lydia. I kind of still am. I don't know. She's that unattainable crush that I know I'll never have. And then there's Jackson with the smoldering blue eyes and those damn perfect cheekbones. Not to mention that perfectly chiseled chest... I'm getting ahead of myself.
Yeah, I probably don't stand a chance, but we're both damaged. Maybe he's just damaged enough to give me a shot. I'm certainly gonna try.
"Fine. Dude, if it bothers you that much, I'll let go." Scott broke me out of my thoughts. I gave him a wry smile before shutting my locker. I took a step back and moved too quickly. I tripped over my feet and landed onto none other than Mr. Perfection, himself – Jackson.
"Be careful, Stilinski. I know I'm pretty, but damn. If you keep falling over me people are going to start to talk." Jackson smirked. He steadied me and walked away with a wink. It's official - I'm hopeless. I've got it bad. "What are you thinking about that has you all hot and bothered, Stilinski?" Jackson purred into my ear. I jumped and fell, hitting my ass particularly hard. I grimaced.
"Oh, my God!" I exclaimed. "Don't do that!" I flailed as I tried to get up.
"Do I make you nervous?" Jackson chuckled.
"No." I told him, quickly, as I got to my feet. Thankfully, I didn't fall over again. "But creeping on impressionable teenage guys isn't the best of qualities a person could have." I shot him a pointed stare. He just smirked.
"Whatever helps you sleep at night, Stilinski. We both know that you want me." Jackson gloated. I pursed my lips together and shook my head.
"You're not my type, Jackson." I lied through my teeth. It didn't even sound convincing to my ears. He moved his mouth right next to my ear and breathed. I shivered and tried to ignore the growing proof that he was my type, in my pants.
"I've everyone's type." He whispered.
"Stop doing that." I breathed.
"What fun would that be?" He asked me, before walking away. "Stop staring at my ass, Stilinski!" He called, not even turning around to look at me. I blushed and cursed him for being so fucking observant. Out of everyone in Beacon Hills, why did I have to have a crush on Jackson? He's quite possibly the only person who would get this much pleasure out of mocking my feelings for him.
I tried to pay attention in Finstock's class. Okay, I thought about paying attention, but I can't help the fact that Jackson sits two seats over from me. I'm tapping my pen like a fucking jackhammer and it's not even helping.
I jumped when my phone vibrated in my pocket. I looked up and saw Coach yelling at Greenberg. He's not even looking in my direction. I pulled out my phone and looked at it under my desk.
'You know you want me. Just admit it. ;)
-Jackson'
I sighed and shot Jackson a sideways glance. He's smirking. I huffed.
'You need to get over yourself.
-Stiles'
I tapped my reply back, furiously.
'I need to get over myself or be all over you…?
-J'
His text went straight from my ears to my dick. I groaned and I could just see his smirk growing. I didn't even respond. My phone was halfway in my pocket, when it went off again.
'If you admit it, I might consider letting you suck me off with those pretty lips of yours.
-J'
I had to bit my lip to keep from whimpering. Oh, my God! He's trying to kill me. It's official, he's trying to make me die during class. I can't stop picturing anything except for Jackson naked and damn, is it a good picture.
'What do you want Stiles? Do you want me to dominate your body, like I do in your little fantasies?
-Jackson'
The messages kept coming. I growled, quietly. Coach looked at me and shook his head.
'Now, you're just being mean, Jackson.
-Stiles'
I replied. He chuckled. He actually laughed, out loud. I can hear him from my seat.
'And how else would I get you to admit your little crush on me, Stilinski?
-J'
I looked at his question and sighed.
'Is that what it's going to take to make this stop?
-S'
I grimaced as I sent my message off to him.
'Obviously. Even though, I think you like our flirty banter.;)
-J'
This is all just stroking his already huge ego… that perfectly perky, pinchable, really wears those jeans, ego.
'Fine. I like you. Okay? Are you satisfied, now?!
-S'
I gave in. Now, it's in his hands.
'Almost. Come over to my place after school.
-J'
'What for?
-S'
'I told you what I would do with your lips. Didn't I? The very least I can do is find some way to get you to stop talking… and maybe you're not the only one with a little crush, Stilinski.
-J'
I dropped my phone. I watched it clatter to the floor. Coach shot me a look and I shrugged and pointed at Greenberg.
"Greenberg, get out of my class!" Coach yelled. I suppressed a smirk.
"But –" Greenberg tried to protest, but Coach just held up his hand.
"Out!" He yelled. I picked up my phone, while he was distracted.
'How bad do you want me?
-Jackson
PS – Don't drop your phone. ;)'
I gulped and tried to force my hands to stop shaking, while I texted him back.
'I'm sorry, Jackson. You have to say it, or you won't get an answer.
-Stiles
PS – Two can play that game.'
My phone vibrated and I hurried to check it, barely trying to hide the fact that I was texting through class.
'Fine. Fair enough. I like you, Stilinski. I want you and those lips at my place later.
-Jackson
PS – Satisfied?'
Despite having him hint at his crush, my jaw still dropped.
'If you're just saying that fuck with me, I swear I will never forgive you.
-S'
My heart worked overtime as I waited for him to text me back.
'Even I have limits, Stiles. I didn't say that just to mess with you. Fucking with you is just a bonus. ;)
-J'
He really just said that – didn't he? The bell rang before I had a chance to text him back. I grabbed my things and bolted from class. What if he changed his mind? What if… I don't even know. It's Jackson and he's perfect and I turn into a tongue-tied idiot around him.
"Stilinski!" I heard Jackson call me. I turned around and saw him walking towards me. I turned my attention back on my locker and deposited my econ book, unceremoniously. "You know that I don't like being ignored, Stiles." Jackson purred from besides me.
I jumped and started to fall towards my locker, when Jackson's hands shot out to steady me. I became suddenly aware of the amount of heat that his hands were producing against my skin. My eyes flickered down and his hands gripping my torso, under my shirt. I whimpered.
"Wh-what do you want, Jackson?" I asked him. He smiled, not smirked, smiled.
"You," he breathed.
"Me?" I echoed, confused.
"You," he repeated.
He pushed me against my locker and ran his hand up from my waist to my cheek. I started to have trouble breathing. He moved his other hand from my waist to my ass. He squeezed, before he pressed his lips to mine. My eyes fluttered closed and I kissed him back. The kiss didn't stay innocent or tame, by any means. Jackson slipped his tongue into my mouth and I was done. I could die a happy man.
He tastes even better than I imagined at he did. He ground his hips against mine and I moaned into his mouth. He kept kissing me, until I pulled away, panting.
"Lydia, what about Lydia?" I asked him, my brain still foggy. He smirked.
"We're not together." He told me. My happiness dropped.
"Oh," I said, quietly, trying to hide my disappointment. Of course he wouldn't want to be with me. I was kidding myself.
"No, Stilinski, not like that. Lydia and I aren't together." He clarified. I looked at him and grinned.
"Oh," I repeated, happily. He laughed. "You are aware that you're playing tonsil-hockey with me in the middle of school, right?"
"I'm aware."
"Okay."
"When have I ever cared about what anyone else thinks, Stiles?" He asked me, softly. I shrugged. "I'm Jackson Whittemore." He said, smugly.
"And your ego's back." I teased him. He smirked.
"It was never gone."
"You're lucky you're hot."
"I'm not the only one who'll be getting lucky later, Stilinski." He sang. I groaned as my boner grew, uncomfortably. "Just wait until school is over. Your ass is mine."
~*.*~
'He's cold and cruel, but he knows what he's doin'.
Knows just what to say, so my whole day is ruined…
'Cause he's bittersweet – he knocks me off my feet and I can't help myself.
I don't want anyone else.
He's a mystery – he's too much for me, but I keep coming back for more.
He's just the guy I'm lookin' for – just the guy I'm lookin' for.'
~*.*~
A/N: Reviews would be awesome. More one-shots to come.
-Anneryn
