Fic: misc. prompt fills, various ratings, various pairings
Compilation of the fills I wrote for the prompts on teenwolf_slash's ficlet challenge! Unbeta'd.
Fill for: ticket, spider, bead
Derek/Stiles, R
"Your dad pulled me over today," Derek says, and unsympathetically watches as Stiles flails and falls to the ground, startled out of his computer chair. "I got a ticket."
"What the hell, man? I thought cats were supposed to be the sneaky ones," Stiles clutches his chest through his shirt dramatically, and Derek wants to bare his teeth at the boy. Then Derek notices the beads of sweat on his forehead, the way his chest is heaving a little too much to be from Derek scaring him, and looks up to Stiles' computer to see - a blank screen. The boy turned off his monitor. Derek inhales deeply, smelling the teen's arousal. He walks toward the boy on the floor, ignoring as Stiles continues to talk. "Oh my God, you're not here to extort money from me, you're going to kill me because my dad was doing his job, aren't you."
Stiles sounds so doomed, his flushed face paling, and that just won't do. Derek kneels next to the boy and lays a hand on his stomach, spidering out his fingers and pressing down as Stiles tries to scoot away. "Not going to kill you and I don't need your money, idiot. Taking my payment elsewhere," Derek says, and looks down at Stiles' hard dick.
"I am totally okay with that," Stiles says quickly, and Derek wonders what kind of porn the boy was looking at before he slides his hand lower.
Fill for: screw, oven, compass
Derek/Stiles, PG13
They're standing next to a sign that says NO LIFEGUARD ON DUTY, and Stiles feels a keen sense of confusion. "It's like an oven out here," Stiles complains, and it's kind of just to see Derek's jaw clench as he grits his teeth. He knows that he shouldn't mess with the werewolf, but the way Derek's shoulders tense under his tee - he's long since stripped out of his leather jacket - and the way his arms flex as he folds his arms, well. Stiles can't help but screw with him. But he also has a pertinent question to ask. "Seriously, Derek, why are we here? Why did you shove me in your -" admittedly hot, Stiles omits from the sentence, "- car and drive seven hours?"
"Felt like it," is all Derek says, and walks around him, back up to the car. It's midday but the parking lot is pretty empty, and Stiles feels like a voyeur watching Derek lift himself up onto the hood of his car - oh my God - to pull off his shoes and socks. Derek is undressing, wearing only black cotton boxers.
They're at a beach, Derek is almost naked, and Stiles isn't sure he can follow the werewolf's lead because of the semi he's nursing in his jeans. When Derek pops the trunk of the car to put his stuff, that's when Stiles' mind catches up with his gaping, silent mouth. "So, um, I can totally put on your sunscreen, if you have any. Or sun tan oil. Do werewolves get sunburned? You better watch out, just in case. If you don't have any I bet we could bum some," Stiles offers, and knows that his moral compass is so far south, definitely further than they've traveled. He pulls off his own shirt as he catches Derek's fleeting smirk.
Fill for: haystack, riddle, cat
Danny/Jackson, PG
At first, Danny was sure that it was because Jackson and Lydia were on the outs again. "A haunted hayride?" Danny asks, a little dubiously, looking at the phone to make sure it's Jackson calling him.
"I have two tickets," Jackson says, "and," Jackson adds, before there's talking in the background that sounds an awful lot like Lydia, to Danny. "Just meet me there, all right?" Jackson hangs up the phone before Danny can say anything.
Fast forward an hour, and Danny's sitting on a haystack next to his best friend, thigh-to-thigh because that's how close Jackson sat. When Danny asked why Lydia couldn't come with Jackson, Jackson's scowl told a different story than his words: "I didn't ask her," Jackson said, and Danny raised his eyebrows in obvious disbelief.
Jackson's barely even paying attention to the driver as the man tells them about the horrors that await; instead, he's telling Danny about his mom's friend's cat that's staying at their house while she's out of town, and driving is Jackson insane. Danny is - confused, but he's willing to play along. Jackson only talks a lot when he's nervous or anxious, and so Danny listens, comments in the right places, and very carefully doesn't jump out of the wagon when they go into the hushed forest and Jackson holds his hand.
Jackson laces their fingers together and holds onto Danny's hand like he's afraid Danny'll rip them apart, which is laughable. Danny's spent his entire friendship with Jackson trying to solve the riddle of his feelings for his best friend, which include but are not limited to: best friends, unrequited but ignored lust, requited but platonic love, and a quiet wonder (that is definitely not pining) if there is ever a chance.
Danny takes a deep breath and gives Jackson's hand a squeeze as the first of the probably many theatrical screams are head from afar, and doesn't squash the little bit of hope he feels this time. When Jackson leans closer and whispers, "pizza after?" Danny nods, and feels flushed at the brush of Jackson's lips against his ear, hot breath on Danny's cheek. Danny leans back to look at Jackson in the eye, and can see that Jackson's aware of what he's doing, the effect it's having on Danny. For a moment Danny thinks that Jackson will kiss him right there, in the dark on a haunted hayride of all places, but instead Jackson just grins at Danny's affirmative nod.
Fast forward an hour, and Jackson's finally letting go of Danny's hand to get into their respective cars, to meet for pizza. Without holding Jackson's hand this whole night feels less real to Danny, until Jackson puts a hand around the back of his neck to pull him down for a kiss.
They don't make it to pizza, but late night (early morning) fast food is good too.
Fill for: ticket, spider, bead
Derek/Stiles, R
"Your dad pulled me over today," Derek says, and unsympathetically watches as Stiles flails and falls to the ground, startled out of his computer chair. "I got a ticket."
"What the hell, man? I thought cats were supposed to be the sneaky ones," Stiles clutches his chest through his shirt dramatically, and Derek wants to bare his teeth at the boy. Then Derek notices the beads of sweat on his forehead, the way his chest is heaving a little too much to be from Derek scaring him, and looks up to Stiles' computer to see - a blank screen. The boy turned off his monitor. Derek inhales deeply, smelling the teen's arousal. He walks toward the boy on the floor, ignoring as Stiles continues to talk. "Oh my God, you're not here to extort money from me, you're going to kill me because my dad was doing his job, aren't you."
Stiles sounds so doomed, his flushed face paling, and that just won't do. Derek kneels next to the boy and lays a hand on his stomach, spidering out his fingers and pressing down as Stiles tries to scoot away. "Not going to kill you and I don't need your money, idiot. Taking my payment elsewhere," Derek says, and looks down at Stiles' hard dick.
"I am totally okay with that," Stiles says quickly, and Derek wonders what kind of porn the boy was looking at before he slides his hand lower.
Fill for: screw, oven, compass
Derek/Stiles, PG13
They're standing next to a sign that says NO LIFEGUARD ON DUTY, and Stiles feels a keen sense of confusion. "It's like an oven out here," Stiles complains, and it's kind of just to see Derek's jaw clench as he grits his teeth. He knows that he shouldn't mess with the werewolf, but the way Derek's shoulders tense under his tee - he's long since stripped out of his leather jacket - and the way his arms flex as he folds his arms, well. Stiles can't help but screw with him. But he also has a pertinent question to ask. "Seriously, Derek, why are we here? Why did you shove me in your -" admittedly hot, Stiles omits from the sentence, "- car and drive seven hours?"
"Felt like it," is all Derek says, and walks around him, back up to the car. It's midday but the parking lot is pretty empty, and Stiles feels like a voyeur watching Derek lift himself up onto the hood of his car - oh my God - to pull off his shoes and socks. Derek is undressing, wearing only black cotton boxers.
They're at a beach, Derek is almost naked, and Stiles isn't sure he can follow the werewolf's lead because of the semi he's nursing in his jeans. When Derek pops the trunk of the car to put his stuff, that's when Stiles' mind catches up with his gaping, silent mouth. "So, um, I can totally put on your sunscreen, if you have any. Or sun tan oil. Do werewolves get sunburned? You better watch out, just in case. If you don't have any I bet we could bum some," Stiles offers, and knows that his moral compass is so far south, definitely further than they've traveled. He pulls off his own shirt as he catches Derek's fleeting smirk.
Fill for: haystack, riddle, cat
Danny/Jackson, PG
At first, Danny was sure that it was because Jackson and Lydia were on the outs again. "A haunted hayride?" Danny asks, a little dubiously, looking at the phone to make sure it's Jackson calling him.
"I have two tickets," Jackson says, "and," Jackson adds, before there's talking in the background that sounds an awful lot like Lydia, to Danny. "Just meet me there, all right?" Jackson hangs up the phone before Danny can say anything.
Fast forward an hour, and Danny's sitting on a haystack next to his best friend, thigh-to-thigh because that's how close Jackson sat. When Danny asked why Lydia couldn't come with Jackson, Jackson's scowl told a different story than his words: "I didn't ask her," Jackson said, and Danny raised his eyebrows in obvious disbelief.
Jackson's barely even paying attention to the driver as the man tells them about the horrors that await; instead, he's telling Danny about his mom's friend's cat that's staying at their house while she's out of town, and driving is Jackson insane. Danny is - confused, but he's willing to play along. Jackson only talks a lot when he's nervous or anxious, and so Danny listens, comments in the right places, and very carefully doesn't jump out of the wagon when they go into the hushed forest and Jackson holds his hand.
Jackson laces their fingers together and holds onto Danny's hand like he's afraid Danny'll rip them apart, which is laughable. Danny's spent his entire friendship with Jackson trying to solve the riddle of his feelings for his best friend, which include but are not limited to: best friends, unrequited but ignored lust, requited but platonic love, and a quiet wonder (that is definitely not pining) if there is ever a chance.
Danny takes a deep breath and gives Jackson's hand a squeeze as the first of the probably many theatrical screams are head from afar, and doesn't squash the little bit of hope he feels this time. When Jackson leans closer and whispers, "pizza after?" Danny nods, and feels flushed at the brush of Jackson's lips against his ear, hot breath on Danny's cheek. Danny leans back to look at Jackson in the eye, and can see that Jackson's aware of what he's doing, the effect it's having on Danny. For a moment Danny thinks that Jackson will kiss him right there, in the dark on a haunted hayride of all places, but instead Jackson just grins at Danny's affirmative nod.
Fast forward an hour, and Jackson's finally letting go of Danny's hand to get into their respective cars, to meet for pizza. Without holding Jackson's hand this whole night feels less real to Danny, until Jackson puts a hand around the back of his neck to pull him down for a kiss.
They don't make it to pizza, but late night (early morning) fast food is good too.