Ficlet: Kiss Me
Author: laraF laraflame
Title: Kiss Me
Rating: PG-13
Pairing/s: Peter/Stiles
Character/s: Stiles Stilinski, Peter Hale, Derek Hale, Erica Reyes, Vernon Boyd, Isaac Lahey, Scott Mccall, Braeden
Summary: Stiles doesn’t want to deal with this supernatural clusterfuck anymore. Why is his life revolving around an evil tree and Derek’s love life, anyway?
Warnings: Graphic Depictions of Violence
Content Notes: AU, crack-ish, language-alert (but Stiles is not exactly imaginative with his swear-words right now), monster of the week, Peter is being his self-satisfied sassy self, BAMF Braeden, everyone agrees that Derek needs a sane girlfriend, I said sane, Peter!, mild Twilight references (and bashing)
Submission Type: Ficlet
Word Count: 999
Prompt: #186 - Promise
Author's Notes: I just can’t get enough Steter. And S3 AU. And madness.
“I promise I’m gonna kiss you on the mouth, tongue and all if you find a nice, normal, sane woman who catches Derek’s interest.”
“Oh, I don’t think you recognize the situation here but I, of course, gladly take your word on that offer.”
“Ugh. Don’t harass my best friend!”
“I’m with zombie-uncle on the matter, Batman. Derek is so… famished, he practically jumps the first willing woman.”
“So, it’s not his fault, you’re saying?”
“He’s lonely.”
“So what? That shouldn’t be an excuse for thinking with his dick! Now we can add uncontrollable urges to the list of werewolf attributes too? Did you jump the first girl within reach, Boyd? What about you, Isaac?”
“Umm, no? But that…”
“Thank you! See? Isaac’s not doing it, here’s the scarf-y proof that Derek has Problems. If an arsoning-pedo-maniac and a batshit crazy darach hell-bent on sacrificing half the town wasn’t enough for ya’all, that is. I stick to my opinion. There’s no way, Peter. No fucking way.”
“We’ll see to that, little spark.”
Their more or less domesticated psychopath left with an infuriating smirk. Stiles panicked a bit about the butterflies in his stomach. Peter’s facial expressions causing anything else than worry and fear was alarming, to say the least.
“Dude, I think he took that as a challenge.”
“Yeah. Being a werewolf really sharpened your deduction skills, buddy.”
*
How it seemed like eons ago that they had that conversation. Stiles kind of wished they could go back to that nice, peaceful afternoon; the taste of sweet success warming his celebratory curly fries. The Alpha pack was done (thanks to Scott, Derek and him), Peter ended Jennifer, they got back Derek’s stray betas in one piece and they vowed to never ever pull something like that off again. Cool.
Then came the aftereffects of waking the Nemeton. Stiles only had one thing to say: fuck nature. Fuck that stupid tree sideways with a mountain ash pike. Because when Satomi’s pack came to settle in a bit? Fine, not like they needed any more alphas, but okay. Satomi wanted peace so she got a free pass. But when whole wendigo families crawled out from Beacon Hills’s dirty underground like it was free buffet? Icky. It took them a week to make them understand the brand new ”no people-eating on my territory” rule. Since then he wasn’t in the mood to eat any kind of meat. His father was convinced that he wanted to kill him. Then there were the fae they (Derek) had an uncomfortable misunderstanding with. Stiles had to admit that watching Peter giving Derek a lecture of a lifetime was fun, but the fae totally fucked up the town. All because of missed out gifts and rude manners (well, Derek was the alpha they had to deal with ─ seriously, what did they expect?). They took control of the electricity and the gas making Beacon Hills hell for the inhabitants when for example their cars decided to take a field trip. Without them. Stiles had fun with Deaton concocting up a magical forgetting potion and sprinkling it down from a stolen government helicopter after three days of complete insanity but that was so beside the point.
When a witch coven’s envoy asked permission to complete harmless rituals ─ singing and dancing naked in the woods at midnight and inhaling herb-smoke mostly ─ Stiles was so indifferent he just shrugged and went back to the PS to kick Scott’s ass in Mario Kart. He thought that witches, people with actual magical knowledge couldn’t let out a vindictive, thousand year old fox spirit but apparently they did just that. Incompetent idiots. If it weren’t for the newly moved in Kitsunes (although magnetized in by that evil tree) Stiles wasn’t sure all of them could’ve survived the Nogitsune. And that was the point where Stiles stopped to watch animes for a year at least.
They endured, fought, negotiated, kicked (and occasionally licked) asses and it was tiring. Tiring and manageable.
Now though? Stiles had enough. He was sore from running and jumping, sweat soaking through his shirt and pants. There were approximately four bloodthirsty vampires hot on his heels (he wasn’t crazy to look back and count them) and he contemplated his life choices in misery as he automatically bypassed trees and bushes. Not that a puny human could outrun them, no. But a puny human smelling divine from the adrenaline sweetened blood rushing through his veins? Yep. After Deaton officially declared that Stiles qualified as phenomenal snack for vampires there was nothing else to do but to set up the perfect trap and wait for the right time.
Now that he had to endure all the Bella Swan jokes in the world one would think he deserved some prize. Like dazzling Edward Cullens chasing him. No such luck. Vampires were fucking terrifying and ugly. He so knew that Twilight was full of shit.
Not that it gave him any reprieve. He wanted to cry out in triumph as he reached the clearing where… eight more vampires already battled his furry allies.
Well. Fuck his life.
Derek and Scott occupied four enemies and Erica and Isaac were out cold while Boyd guarded their bodies. Judging from the number of flying arrows, bullets and knives Allison and Chris passed simply being pissed off and entered the state of destructive fury. Good. Peter was nowhere in sight. Not so good. Stiles paced his mountain ash circle in worried anger. Where was that selfish motherfucker when he was needed?
Just as he readied himself to curse Peter to hell he made his dramatic appearance. Next to him stood an aloof looking black woman, a bazooka on her shoulder. At Derek’s love struck expression Stiles facepalmed.
*
“She’s no way normal.”
“Kiss me.”
“But I kind of like her brand of insanity.”
“You promised.”
“Except the vampire innards covering my body. She could definitely work on her style.”
“Shut up and kiss me.”
Stiles did.
The End
Title: Kiss Me
Rating: PG-13
Pairing/s: Peter/Stiles
Character/s: Stiles Stilinski, Peter Hale, Derek Hale, Erica Reyes, Vernon Boyd, Isaac Lahey, Scott Mccall, Braeden
Summary: Stiles doesn’t want to deal with this supernatural clusterfuck anymore. Why is his life revolving around an evil tree and Derek’s love life, anyway?
Warnings: Graphic Depictions of Violence
Content Notes: AU, crack-ish, language-alert (but Stiles is not exactly imaginative with his swear-words right now), monster of the week, Peter is being his self-satisfied sassy self, BAMF Braeden, everyone agrees that Derek needs a sane girlfriend, I said sane, Peter!, mild Twilight references (and bashing)
Submission Type: Ficlet
Word Count: 999
Prompt: #186 - Promise
Author's Notes: I just can’t get enough Steter. And S3 AU. And madness.
“I promise I’m gonna kiss you on the mouth, tongue and all if you find a nice, normal, sane woman who catches Derek’s interest.”
“Oh, I don’t think you recognize the situation here but I, of course, gladly take your word on that offer.”
“Ugh. Don’t harass my best friend!”
“I’m with zombie-uncle on the matter, Batman. Derek is so… famished, he practically jumps the first willing woman.”
“So, it’s not his fault, you’re saying?”
“He’s lonely.”
“So what? That shouldn’t be an excuse for thinking with his dick! Now we can add uncontrollable urges to the list of werewolf attributes too? Did you jump the first girl within reach, Boyd? What about you, Isaac?”
“Umm, no? But that…”
“Thank you! See? Isaac’s not doing it, here’s the scarf-y proof that Derek has Problems. If an arsoning-pedo-maniac and a batshit crazy darach hell-bent on sacrificing half the town wasn’t enough for ya’all, that is. I stick to my opinion. There’s no way, Peter. No fucking way.”
“We’ll see to that, little spark.”
Their more or less domesticated psychopath left with an infuriating smirk. Stiles panicked a bit about the butterflies in his stomach. Peter’s facial expressions causing anything else than worry and fear was alarming, to say the least.
“Dude, I think he took that as a challenge.”
“Yeah. Being a werewolf really sharpened your deduction skills, buddy.”
*
How it seemed like eons ago that they had that conversation. Stiles kind of wished they could go back to that nice, peaceful afternoon; the taste of sweet success warming his celebratory curly fries. The Alpha pack was done (thanks to Scott, Derek and him), Peter ended Jennifer, they got back Derek’s stray betas in one piece and they vowed to never ever pull something like that off again. Cool.
Then came the aftereffects of waking the Nemeton. Stiles only had one thing to say: fuck nature. Fuck that stupid tree sideways with a mountain ash pike. Because when Satomi’s pack came to settle in a bit? Fine, not like they needed any more alphas, but okay. Satomi wanted peace so she got a free pass. But when whole wendigo families crawled out from Beacon Hills’s dirty underground like it was free buffet? Icky. It took them a week to make them understand the brand new ”no people-eating on my territory” rule. Since then he wasn’t in the mood to eat any kind of meat. His father was convinced that he wanted to kill him. Then there were the fae they (Derek) had an uncomfortable misunderstanding with. Stiles had to admit that watching Peter giving Derek a lecture of a lifetime was fun, but the fae totally fucked up the town. All because of missed out gifts and rude manners (well, Derek was the alpha they had to deal with ─ seriously, what did they expect?). They took control of the electricity and the gas making Beacon Hills hell for the inhabitants when for example their cars decided to take a field trip. Without them. Stiles had fun with Deaton concocting up a magical forgetting potion and sprinkling it down from a stolen government helicopter after three days of complete insanity but that was so beside the point.
When a witch coven’s envoy asked permission to complete harmless rituals ─ singing and dancing naked in the woods at midnight and inhaling herb-smoke mostly ─ Stiles was so indifferent he just shrugged and went back to the PS to kick Scott’s ass in Mario Kart. He thought that witches, people with actual magical knowledge couldn’t let out a vindictive, thousand year old fox spirit but apparently they did just that. Incompetent idiots. If it weren’t for the newly moved in Kitsunes (although magnetized in by that evil tree) Stiles wasn’t sure all of them could’ve survived the Nogitsune. And that was the point where Stiles stopped to watch animes for a year at least.
They endured, fought, negotiated, kicked (and occasionally licked) asses and it was tiring. Tiring and manageable.
Now though? Stiles had enough. He was sore from running and jumping, sweat soaking through his shirt and pants. There were approximately four bloodthirsty vampires hot on his heels (he wasn’t crazy to look back and count them) and he contemplated his life choices in misery as he automatically bypassed trees and bushes. Not that a puny human could outrun them, no. But a puny human smelling divine from the adrenaline sweetened blood rushing through his veins? Yep. After Deaton officially declared that Stiles qualified as phenomenal snack for vampires there was nothing else to do but to set up the perfect trap and wait for the right time.
Now that he had to endure all the Bella Swan jokes in the world one would think he deserved some prize. Like dazzling Edward Cullens chasing him. No such luck. Vampires were fucking terrifying and ugly. He so knew that Twilight was full of shit.
Not that it gave him any reprieve. He wanted to cry out in triumph as he reached the clearing where… eight more vampires already battled his furry allies.
Well. Fuck his life.
Derek and Scott occupied four enemies and Erica and Isaac were out cold while Boyd guarded their bodies. Judging from the number of flying arrows, bullets and knives Allison and Chris passed simply being pissed off and entered the state of destructive fury. Good. Peter was nowhere in sight. Not so good. Stiles paced his mountain ash circle in worried anger. Where was that selfish motherfucker when he was needed?
Just as he readied himself to curse Peter to hell he made his dramatic appearance. Next to him stood an aloof looking black woman, a bazooka on her shoulder. At Derek’s love struck expression Stiles facepalmed.
*
“She’s no way normal.”
“Kiss me.”
“But I kind of like her brand of insanity.”
“You promised.”
“Except the vampire innards covering my body. She could definitely work on her style.”
“Shut up and kiss me.”
Stiles did.
The End