#jordan parrish

The two smartass take great pleasure in annoying them (and ogling at them, cause DAMN.)

It also helps that somehow they always figure out who did the killing.

Or: Stiles Stilinski and Lydia Martin saw them, looked at each other and said "I want that ass"

Canon divergent - Different first meeting

Laura never went back, Derek did (years later, when stiles is in college) and became a deputy. Life is good, and quiet. Until the sheriff's son and his Best friend come back in Town.

Stiles and Lydia are used to, well, be on crime scenes? It's not their fault. It just happens. Bodies find them, not the other way around. So when they go back in Beacon Hills, well, it starts happening there too. It might be because Lydia is a banshee (horrible how they found that out, 0/10, not recommend), but Stiles doesn't have that excuse. Except for the weird gut feeling that he always gets. (They don't know what he is, but after a few years of fighting the supernatural and acting like a fucking Beacon to crazy werewolfs and magic assholes, they can't denie he is something. It would be useful knowing what. They're not that lucky)

It's only natural that they start investing the cases, right?

Especially when they might be supernatural...

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I didn't ship Jordan and Lydia, but the idea of Derek and Jordan being partners and having Stiles and Lydia watching them and deciding who gets who is hilarious.

Day 28 of valentinewolf - The Pack!!

i want to thank everyone who has supported me this month of ships, i've had such fun and lerned so much drawing a new ship every day!! I hope you all enjoyed seeing my lil drawings, and onto even more art!!!

Prompt List

Characters - Scott McCall, Stiles Stilinski, Derek Hale, Isaac Lahey, Theo Raeken, Liam Dunbar, Jordan Parrish

Requested - No. 

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Scott McCall

Scott hated feeling jealous because he thought it made him look selfish. Every time it happened, he remembered how his dad’s jealousy used to hurt his mom, and he was terrified you would see him the same way. He tried to be patient and trusting, reminding himself that you’d chosen him for a reason, but as soon as someone got a bit too close to you, his jaw would tighten. He watched from across the room, acting like he did not care, even though every instinct told him to pull you closer. The fear of losing you simmered beneath his calm exterior, making his internal struggle even harder to hide.

Scott’s jealousy showed in what he did. He suddenly needed to hold your hand, wrap his arm around your waist, or stand next to you when someone flirted. He never snapped at you. Instead, he became softer, clingier, and almost desperate for reassurance without saying it.

The moment you finally noticed and kissed his cheek in front of whoever made him jealous, the tension melted out of him instantly.

Stiles Stilinski

Stiles was terrible at hiding jealousy.

Absolutely terrible.

When someone flirted with you, Stiles became a sarcastic disaster. His comments got faster, louder, and more dramatic as he tried to convince everyone, including himself, that he was “totally fine.”

“Wow, yeah, no, please continue touching her arm like that. Super normal. Love that for us.”

Underneath the jokes, though, Stiles genuinely worried about losing you. He overanalysed every smile you gave someone else and immediately assumed the worst. Once, while standing beside you, he almost asked if you liked the other person better, but stopped himself at the last second, chewing his lip and looking away. When he got jealous, he stuck close to you all night, constantly bumping his shoulder against yours or finding excuses to pull you away from conversations.

The second you laughed and called him an idiot while threading your fingers through his, he calmed down almost immediately.

Derek Hale

Derek’s jealousy was quiet but intimidating.

He didn’t start fights or scenes. The room shifted the moment he noticed someone flirting with you. His expression darkened, shoulders squared, and suddenly, he was beside you without a word.

It was almost worse because Derek rarely talked about his feelings. His jealousy showed in small, possessive ways: his hand on the small of your back, the low rumble in his voice when he asked if you were ready to leave, and the sharp glare he gave anyone who stayed too close.

If someone ignored the warning signs, Derek grew even more territorial. He never raised his voice or got aggressive with you, but his protectiveness became sharper and more obvious. He would stand closer, subtly blocking anyone who tried to get too near, his posture tense. Sometimes, if you looked closely, you could see his hand tremble just a little where he touched you, betraying the storm of feelings under his calm. Despite his intensity, the moment you reassured him, pressed your forehead to his, and whispered something soft, he relaxed instantly, and a rare, soft smile flickered across his lips. He would mutter gruffly about not liking people looking at you like that, but there was always relief in his eyes.

Isaac Lahey

Isaac’s jealousy always came from insecurity.

He tried not to show it, but the moment he thought someone else could make you happier, his confidence cracked. He got quieter, his smile faded, and his eyes followed you everywhere.

Instead of acting possessively, Isaac became incredibly affectionate. He leaned into your side, held your hand tighter, and rested his head on your shoulder whenever he could. It was his way of silently asking if you still wanted him there.

The saddest part was how hurt he looked when someone flirted with you. Isaac never got angry. He just looked disappointed in himself for caring so much. But whenever you pulled him close and quietly reminded him that he was the only person you wanted, his entire face softened with relief. His shoulders relaxed, and he let out a shaky breath he didn't even realise he was holding. Sometimes he'd close his eyes for a moment, as if memorising the feeling, and whisper a grateful thank you against your hair. In those moments, all his insecurities felt smaller, and he held onto you just a little tighter.

Theo Raeken

Theo pretended jealousy did not affect him.

He would smirk, act amused, and tease while planning ways to steal your attention back. Unlike the others, Theo’s jealousy showed through manipulation and charm.

If someone flirted with you, Theo immediately inserted himself into the conversation. One arm around your waist, smug grin firmly in place, eyes locked on the other person like a challenge.

“You seem really interested in my girl.”

His voice dropped into a low, challenging tone, and every word sounded protective. Anyone listening could hear how possessive he was, and every muscle in his arm tensed where he held you.

Theo hated sharing attention, especially yours. The more jealous he got, the more affectionate and touchy he became in public. He wanted everyone to know you were his. Deep down, part of him still remembered what it felt like to be overlooked, or worse, betrayed by someone he trusted. That memory made him crave your reassurance even more, and it was why he could never fully relax unless you chose him openly.

And honestly? He loved hearing you reassure him anyway.

Liam Dunbar

Liam got jealous quickly and intensely. Once someone flirted with you, his mood changed. His shoulders tensed, his answers got shorter, and irritation showed on his face. Everyone noticed, especially since Liam could not hide how he felt.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing.”

“It definitely sounded like something.”

His jealousy often turned into frustration because he did not know how to explain what he felt without sounding unreasonable. He hated the idea of someone taking your attention away, and his protective instincts made it even harder.

Still, underneath the anger was fear. Liam just cared so much that it sometimes overwhelmed him.

The moment you wrapped your arms around him and told him to calm down because he was the only one you wanted, he melted completely.

Jordan Parrish

Parrish handled jealousy differently from everyone else.

He stayed almost motionless, eyes softening as he watched you, but his thumb absently stroked over your knuckles, and his lips pressed into a thin line. Every time someone lingered near you, his gaze sharpened, but his words remained gentle.

Instead of confronting someone directly, Parrish preferred subtle reassurance. He would stand closer to you, brush his fingers against yours, or gently guide you away from uncomfortable situations without making a scene.

His jealousy carried a deep emotional intensity because he rarely expressed those feelings openly. So whenever someone flirted with you, there was always a flicker of insecurity hidden behind his calm demeanour. His hand might tighten almost imperceptibly in yours, or his gaze would harden for just a second before he forced a gentle smile back onto his face. These small gestures, quick glances, and a slight tensing of his jaw revealed more than words ever could.

Jordan Parrish knew St. Patrick's Day was coming, and he also knew his boyfriend Y/N had a mischievous streak when it came to pinching anyone not wearing green. Determined to avoid the inevitable pinches, Jordan had come up with what he thought was a foolproof plan: wearing a pair of bright green shamrock-print underwear and nothing else all day.

As he walked around the house shirtless, displaying the vibrant green fabric barely covering his hips, Jordan smirked. "No pinching today. I'm wearing green."

Y/N leaned against the doorframe, eyes slowly trailing down Jordan's chest and abdomen to the waistband of his underwear. "That's clever, deputy."

"I thought so." Jordan said proudly, turning to show off the back.

Y/N's smirk grew. "But you know, there's more than one way to make someone feel lucky on St. Patrick's Day."

Jordan raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

Instead of answering, Y/N stepped closer, fingers tracing the elastic of Jordan's underwear. "This green is nice, but I was thinking about a different kind of pinch today."

Jordan's breath hitched as Y/N's hand moved lower, palm pressing against him through the fabric. "Y/N..."

"You're not wearing much." Y/N whispered, leaning in to kiss Jordan's neck. "Makes it easier to get to you."

Jordan swallowed hard, feeling his body responding despite his intentions. "That's not... that's not fair."

"All's fair in love and St. Patrick's Day." Y/N murmured, other hand sliding up Jordan's chest.

Within minutes, Jordan's plan had backfired spectacularly. He was now hard and wanting, the shamrock underwear suddenly feeling too tight. Y/N's clever loophole had worked, and now Jordan was the one feeling trapped.

"Brat." Jordan growled, but there was no heat in it.

"You love it." Y/N replied, teasing Jordan with practiced ease.

Jordan's eyes flashed with orange—the telltale sign of the hellhound within him stirring. "You're pushing your luck."

"Am I?" Y/N challenged, hand slipping beneath the waistband of the green underwear.

That was all it took. Jordan let out a low growl as he grabbed Y/N, pulling him close. The hellhound was fully awake now, its desires merging with Jordan's. In one swift motion, Jordan had Y/N pressed against the wall, mouth claiming his in a demanding kiss.

"You wanted to play games?" Jordan's voice was deeper now, rougher. "Let's play."

Clothes were shed in a frenzy of movement. Y/N found himself bent over the couch, Jordan behind him, the green underwear now on the floor. There was no gentleness in Jordan's movements—only raw need and possessiveness.

"You like being a brat?" Jordan asked, positioning himself.

Y/N could only moan in response as Jordan entered him in one swift thrust. The pace was punishing from the start, Jordan's hips snapping against Y/N's with bruising force. The hellhound's influence was clear in the primal way Jordan took him, hands gripping Y/N's hips hard enough to leave marks.

When Y/N became too loud, Jordan paused, grabbing the discarded shamrock underwear from the floor. "Open up."

Y/N complied, and Jordan stuffed the underwear into his mouth, effectively muffling his cries. The taste of Jordan's arousal mixed with his own saliva was intoxicating, pushing Y/N closer to the edge.

"That's much better." Jordan grunted, resuming his relentless rhythm. "Now you can't complain about being pinched."

The combination of Jordan's size, the hellhound's raw power, and the humiliation of being gagged with his own underwear sent Y/N spiraling into pleasure. He came hard, body convulsing around Jordan's length.

Jordan followed soon after, burying himself deep with a guttural cry that was more hellhound than human. For a moment, he stayed there, breathing heavily against Y/N's back before slowly pulling out.

When he removed the underwear from Y/N's mouth, there was a mixture of satisfaction and concern in his eyes. "Too much?"

Y/N shook his head, voice hoarse. "Perfect."

Jordan smiled, pressing a gentle kiss to Y/N's shoulder. "Happy St. Patrick's Day, brat."