Scott X Stiles Novels & Stories

Kylie thought inwardly as she ate. "Hmm. So good" Kylie said as she raised her left thumb up giving him a thumbs up. He nodded proudly. "Of course. I'm Scott Anderson,the great" He said proudly without blinking. "Uh...the great? As if! You're not Zeus or any other god" Kylie scoffed as she ate. "I might not be Zeus or a god but I'm a demi god" Scott said so seriously and convincing. Even Kylie was on the verge of believing he really is a demi god.

I watched as Scott walked towards the net to set free his supposed uncle. As the net was unraveled, Stiles stepped out with a grin. "Well, this was certainly an interesting welcome," he quipped, brushing off the dirt from his clothes. Scott sighed, a sheepish smile on his face. "Sorry about that, Uncle Stiles. We've been on high alert lately." Stiles waved off the apology. "No harm done, Scott. It's good to know the pack is vigilant." With the situation defused, the pack members started to disperse, though the underlying tension from the earlier encounter still lingered.

He had actually failed to recognize him and had even started a fight… Scott stammered, “Uh…uh…uh…” All his confidence, arrogance, and pride vanished into nothingness. The blood drained from his face, and he turned ghastly pale. He felt a shiver down his spine as he looked into Zayn’s mischievous yet ice-cold eyes and felt chills all over his body. His legs were trembling a little! “You-you-you-you’re Zayn Larson. You’re that Rheasian! That untouchable Rheasian!” Scott’s voice had changed. It had become shaky and high pitched.

she stuttered looking away from me she backs up and scoots quickly to the bathroom closing the door behind her. “ Okay what the hell was that?” I asked “ someones trying to creep into that cold heart of yours. But it seems as if she just as scared as you are sir” Ryan said wiggling his eyebrows “ That's ridiculous” I mumbled “ believe it, boss.” Creed chuckled taking a sit in the round fuzzy chair in the corner “ OOo we need to get one one these” he wiggles into the chair “ Come on idiots, we have work to do.” I groan looking at the bathroom door before walking out the room

He didn't wear any fabric that was black—just a cream polo, ripped jeans, and… slippers? Slippers. The image short-circuited my brain. It was giving ‘I accidentally wore this out,’ but somehow on him, it looked like it was worn by a Louis Vuitton model. “Mr—Mr. Scarpa,” I breathed. A smile curled at his mouth. Not arrogant or amused. Just… soft and warm. Like he’d stepped out of a storm and into sunlight. “I came here looking to buy something,” he said, his voice almost bashful. “Didn’t expect you’d be the one attending to me. But I’m glad.”