Ficlet: Only You
Author: laraF laraflame
Title: Only You
Rating: PG-13
Pairing/s: Peter Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Character/s: Stiles Stilinski, Peter Hale, Adrian Harris
Summary: Stiles is a nobody. And a fine target for one Jackson Whittemore to spend his inner frustrations out on. What nobody knows is that he is practically engaged to the famous and most desired Peter Hale. Being a werewolf's mate and all that.
Warnings: None
Content Notes: AU, Season 1 era, Lydia's still a douche, Hale fire didn't happen
Submission Type: Ficlet
Word Count: 832
Prompt: #191 - Detention
Author's Notes: Seems I can't get enough Steter. Ever. Also, happiness rulez.
Stiles dreamily looked outside and let Harris's unpleasent voice wash over him. The chemistry teacher decided to give them (especially him, the main deviant here) a lecture about proper behaviour. Again. What a joke! And it wasn't even effective. It’d been the same since forever but nothing ever changed. Jackson taunted him and hurt Scott with Lydia being mean, pretty and unhelpful to both parties in the background. Stiles hated it. The humiliation, the stupidity, the mindless and overlooked abuse. In the end everyone had to go to detention but of course Jackson’s pampered even there. The unfairness left a bitter taste in Stiles's mouth.
If only his father hadn’t been so stubborn! After all Stiles was chosen and the fact that they had to keep the supernatural world secret didn't necessarily mean that his awesome big bad and handsome wolf couldn’t claim and protect him in front of everyone. At least in their opinion. The sherif though? He remained adamant (infuriatingly so). No public appearances together until Stiles was sixteen, his father’s rules stated. And that was significantly better compared to him attacking Peter with guns and kung fu immediately after he dared utter the unbelievably rare thing about true mates and Stiles, the then seven year old kid being his. Fortunately Talia stopped the freshly appointed sherif from committing murder on his first day in office. Small mercies.
Stiles glanced at the clock above Harris's head. Peter had exactly five minutes until his long awaited sixteenth. Stiles huffed under his breath - patience was not his strongest side to put it mildly. His lips started to tingle as he conjured up a memory about their last kiss. Peter was demanding and generous at the same time. His strong hands bruised from the passion that overcame him whenever in fragile Stiles's presence but he always apologetically peppered the tender skin with light kisses, leeching the lingering pain away. He was sassy, bossy and sharp. Ruthless, intelligent and easily bored in mundane company. Stiles swelled with pride that he was the only lucky person who could see Peter's soft smiles, hear his heated whispers and feel his love, his adoration. They were the most precious gifts of his life.
60, 59, 58... He'll show up, Stiles thought excitedly. His heart started to pump erratically. He'll show up and claim me, kiss me, bust me out of here. 42, 41, 40... He better hurry up because Harris is more insufferable then usual if that's possible at all. That asshole! He couldn’t wait to see Lydia’s reaction. Peter Hale was the sexiest, wealthiest, most sought after bachelor in Beacon Hills. So that he, “the hyperactive, unattractive idiot” snatched the man must be a huge blow to her planet-sized ego. He bounced his legs impatiently. 12, 11, 10... Any second now...
“... linski, STILINSKI!”
No more time - Harris shouted at him just as the clock reached number twelve. The door to the classroom opened with a dramatic bang. Stiles grinned and rolled his eyes.
“This is a detention. I don't care who...” Harris choked back the rest at seeing Peter's dangerous expression. Stiles knew everything about the attempted arson on the Hale family and the teacher's role in it. Harris wasn't (too) stupid - he easily remembered Talia's left hand judging by the deathly paleness suddenly replacing the angry red of his face. He snitched out the Argents before anything horrible happened, the coward he was, but Peter had still felt the need to show him a little... fang.
“I certainly hope you know who I am.” And what I'm capable of remained unsaid but heavily hanging in the air. Harris swallowed. “I came for my darling Stiles. Surely, you don't mind?” Peter inquired with so much false politeness in his tone his insincerity was painfully obvious. You don't have a choice. Harris sputtered something but no one paid any attention. Peter's focus shifted to his mate and his lips quirked up in a playful smile. He prowled with a grace of a real predator, picked up Stiles’s backpack in a practiced move and reached out. Stiles stood up hastily. His chair squeaked from the force it was flinged back with. Stiles felt a giddiness taking over him as their hands touched. An evil glint entered Peter's eyes and not a moment later he kissed Stiles quite thoroughly. Stiles heard the sharp intakes of breath like they came from under water - reality always seemed to fade into an unimportant greyness when he was with his mate. With Peter.
“Drama queen” he murmured into those intoxicating lips.
“You like it,” Peter said matter of factly. They walked out from the classroom hand in hand, sarcastic bickering on full force. Stiles glanced around before leaving the place and just loved Scott's shit-eating grin but it was bested by Lydia's and Jackson’s gobsmacked face.
Best detention ever.
He didn't hesitate to shout that back merrily to the terrified Harris.
The End
Title: Only You
Rating: PG-13
Pairing/s: Peter Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Character/s: Stiles Stilinski, Peter Hale, Adrian Harris
Summary: Stiles is a nobody. And a fine target for one Jackson Whittemore to spend his inner frustrations out on. What nobody knows is that he is practically engaged to the famous and most desired Peter Hale. Being a werewolf's mate and all that.
Warnings: None
Content Notes: AU, Season 1 era, Lydia's still a douche, Hale fire didn't happen
Submission Type: Ficlet
Word Count: 832
Prompt: #191 - Detention
Author's Notes: Seems I can't get enough Steter. Ever. Also, happiness rulez.
Stiles dreamily looked outside and let Harris's unpleasent voice wash over him. The chemistry teacher decided to give them (especially him, the main deviant here) a lecture about proper behaviour. Again. What a joke! And it wasn't even effective. It’d been the same since forever but nothing ever changed. Jackson taunted him and hurt Scott with Lydia being mean, pretty and unhelpful to both parties in the background. Stiles hated it. The humiliation, the stupidity, the mindless and overlooked abuse. In the end everyone had to go to detention but of course Jackson’s pampered even there. The unfairness left a bitter taste in Stiles's mouth.
If only his father hadn’t been so stubborn! After all Stiles was chosen and the fact that they had to keep the supernatural world secret didn't necessarily mean that his awesome big bad and handsome wolf couldn’t claim and protect him in front of everyone. At least in their opinion. The sherif though? He remained adamant (infuriatingly so). No public appearances together until Stiles was sixteen, his father’s rules stated. And that was significantly better compared to him attacking Peter with guns and kung fu immediately after he dared utter the unbelievably rare thing about true mates and Stiles, the then seven year old kid being his. Fortunately Talia stopped the freshly appointed sherif from committing murder on his first day in office. Small mercies.
Stiles glanced at the clock above Harris's head. Peter had exactly five minutes until his long awaited sixteenth. Stiles huffed under his breath - patience was not his strongest side to put it mildly. His lips started to tingle as he conjured up a memory about their last kiss. Peter was demanding and generous at the same time. His strong hands bruised from the passion that overcame him whenever in fragile Stiles's presence but he always apologetically peppered the tender skin with light kisses, leeching the lingering pain away. He was sassy, bossy and sharp. Ruthless, intelligent and easily bored in mundane company. Stiles swelled with pride that he was the only lucky person who could see Peter's soft smiles, hear his heated whispers and feel his love, his adoration. They were the most precious gifts of his life.
60, 59, 58... He'll show up, Stiles thought excitedly. His heart started to pump erratically. He'll show up and claim me, kiss me, bust me out of here. 42, 41, 40... He better hurry up because Harris is more insufferable then usual if that's possible at all. That asshole! He couldn’t wait to see Lydia’s reaction. Peter Hale was the sexiest, wealthiest, most sought after bachelor in Beacon Hills. So that he, “the hyperactive, unattractive idiot” snatched the man must be a huge blow to her planet-sized ego. He bounced his legs impatiently. 12, 11, 10... Any second now...
“... linski, STILINSKI!”
No more time - Harris shouted at him just as the clock reached number twelve. The door to the classroom opened with a dramatic bang. Stiles grinned and rolled his eyes.
“This is a detention. I don't care who...” Harris choked back the rest at seeing Peter's dangerous expression. Stiles knew everything about the attempted arson on the Hale family and the teacher's role in it. Harris wasn't (too) stupid - he easily remembered Talia's left hand judging by the deathly paleness suddenly replacing the angry red of his face. He snitched out the Argents before anything horrible happened, the coward he was, but Peter had still felt the need to show him a little... fang.
“I certainly hope you know who I am.” And what I'm capable of remained unsaid but heavily hanging in the air. Harris swallowed. “I came for my darling Stiles. Surely, you don't mind?” Peter inquired with so much false politeness in his tone his insincerity was painfully obvious. You don't have a choice. Harris sputtered something but no one paid any attention. Peter's focus shifted to his mate and his lips quirked up in a playful smile. He prowled with a grace of a real predator, picked up Stiles’s backpack in a practiced move and reached out. Stiles stood up hastily. His chair squeaked from the force it was flinged back with. Stiles felt a giddiness taking over him as their hands touched. An evil glint entered Peter's eyes and not a moment later he kissed Stiles quite thoroughly. Stiles heard the sharp intakes of breath like they came from under water - reality always seemed to fade into an unimportant greyness when he was with his mate. With Peter.
“Drama queen” he murmured into those intoxicating lips.
“You like it,” Peter said matter of factly. They walked out from the classroom hand in hand, sarcastic bickering on full force. Stiles glanced around before leaving the place and just loved Scott's shit-eating grin but it was bested by Lydia's and Jackson’s gobsmacked face.
Best detention ever.
He didn't hesitate to shout that back merrily to the terrified Harris.
The End