Story summary: In which Allison (and Scott by extension) are tired of waiting for Stiles and Derek to get a clue and get together, so they plan.
Chapter summary: Stealing blankets and shirts, the Argent-McCall matchmaking specialty.
Words for the entire fic so far: 3581
AKA where I suck at titling my stuff
Summary: They’re taking too long, I guess we’ll have to take matters into our own hands!
Pairings: Sterek and Scallison, well, Scallison so far, but there will be Sterek…and maybe other pairings…? idk yo
Inspired by this
Holy shit, yeah I’m doing Teen Wolf fanfiction now I know right?
Summary: “I really fucking hate we…wolves,” she concedes before passing out in Derek’s arms.
And it all goes downhill from there.
Except not really, Stiles thinks
Pairings: Scallison (Scott/Allison), and Sterek, and if you squint, Jydia
omg okay so I was gonna do a whole puckurt thing and then I remembered this prompt I seen on the puckurt meme and adkfjakda, okay basically Kurt’s going on a blind date and is stood up, but Puck is his waiter and brings him a free desert and all that and they end up making an actual future date
This was it. They were finally meeting. Kurt fidgeted as he waited. His napkins were pretty much destroyed. The waiter—who was far too good-looking in his books—brought his coffee, and occasionally stopped to ask how he was doing, and other questions that distracted him from the obvious ‘been-waiting-an-hour’ problem.
He’d smile tightly, say, something along the lines of “I’m sure he’ll be here soon…if not then whatever, I’m a strong independent-,”
“Black woman who don’t need no man?” his waiter would ask, flashing a grin at him.
Kurt would shake his head, smile slightly, and shrug.
The waiter, who later introduced himself as Puck, said he’d be off in ten minutes, if Kurt wanted to stick around and have a cup of coffee with him—you know, professionally speaking.
Kurt shrugged, accepted the proposal, and waited. They had coffee, Puck bringing a large slice of strawberry cheesecake with two forks. “So, who’s the dude who stood you up?”
Kurt shrugged, looking bored. “Friend of a friend’s friend who they knew from online—I really don’t know,” he snorted. “I just know his URL was theatergeek91 or something akin to that,” he gave Puck a sarcastic smile.
“Did you even want to go out on this date?”
“Not really, but hey—the cheesecake and coffee are to die for here, so I thought ‘why not?’,” he scooped a large forkful into his mouth.
“Ah yes—the cheesecake is probably the best in NorCal,” Puck nodded knowingly. “On the house, by the way—seemed like being stood up warranted a free piece of cake,” he added when Kurt swallowed and opened his mouth to protest. Puck ate a forkful, nodding to Kurt to do the same. Kurt did, barely holding back on the eye roll of ecstasy.
They sat in the cafe until it was closing time, Puck walking Kurt to his car. “So, despite being stood up, I had fun,” Kurt said brightly. “We should,” he stopped, thought about the probability that Puck was actually straight and was just being nice, and continued, with, “hang out sometime, you know, like…total bros,” he winced at the wording. Finn would have been so much more graceful in this situation.
And it’s Finn he’s talking about.
He smiled awkwardly, thinking “If this were an actual date, we would have done the awkward first kiss already.”
Puck looked amused.
“I said that out loud, didn’t I?”
“Do you want me to pretend you didn’t?”
“If you’re straight, and-or not interested, then yes,” he replied, giving him a small smile.
Puck sighed, rolled his eyes. “I don’t give free cheesecake to just anyone, you know,” he said and raised his eyebrows, a quirk of his lips bringing a grin to Kurt’s face.
“How about we forgo this first awkward kiss, make an actual date, and then we’ll see?” he said as he unlocked his door. “Say…6, the restaurant next door, next Friday?”
“I’ll be there,”
Kurt gave him a smile. “Great!” And then he was starting his car. Puck knocked on his window, causing Kurt to roll it down. “Yes?”
“My number, princess,” he held out a napkin and then crossed the street back to the cafe.
You cannot blame Kurt for his wandering eyes.
Ashley’s prompt was Unicorns.
“Unicorns?” Artie raised his eyebrows.
“Yes!” Brittany smiled brightly. “Our 10 year reunion is supposed to be magical, so we’re going to dress up in unicorn costumes!” she said logically.
Santana and Artie shared a look. “Britt, babe, I’m pretty sure it’s the decoration that’ll be magical—not what we’ll be required to wear,” Santana said slowly, rubbing Brittany’s forearm.
Brittany frowned. “So…a reunion isn’t like Halloween?”
“No, Britt,” Artie said and adjusted his glasses. “Are we even going?”
“Yes.” Santana raised an eyebrow at him. “Brittany told Schue we’d be there for entertainment purposes—,”
“Kurt, Rach, and Mercedes will be there though!” Artie ran a hand through his hair. “They’re plenty entertainment,”
“Yes, well, Brittany misses them, therefore we are going,” Santana replied evenly.
Brittany nodded her head, “I want to see if Kurt’s hands are still baby soft,” she said with a bright smile. “And I still want to go as unicorns,”
Santana and Artie cringed at the idea of going to their tenth year school reunion. “How about we wear themed clothing—like…Britt, you could wear a hair piece-thing that’s like a horn, and Santana could wear something like a tail—you know those fox-tail things Kurt wore—expect more…horse-like?” Artie suggested. “And I’ll…I really don’t know what I could do…”
“You could wear a rainbow shirt, or your rainbow suspenders,” Santana said quickly, before Brittany suggested anything insane.
“Yes! Thank you, I can wear my rainbow suspenders,” Artie snapped his fingers and smiled complacently to Brittany.
Brittany regarded them before nodding. “Fine, but we’re all wearing those horns I had for my presidential campaign,” she said with finality.
Santana and Artie let out sighs. Santana smirked as she leaned on the back of Artie’s chair. “I’m actually looking forward to seeing Porcelain—did you hear who his new squeeze is?”
“Blaine and him broke up?”
“God yes, a long time ago,” Santana rolled her eyes, “You need to get out of that lab once in a while, son,” she added, “Kurt is with…” she paused for dramatic effect. “Puck,”
Artie’s mouth dropped open. “Puck.”
“Oh my Reese’s,”
“What’s your Reese’s?” Brittany asked as she returned with three unicorn horns. She deposited them on their heads as she waited for Artie’s answer.
“Puck and Kurt are-,”
“That’s old news,” Brittany said before Artie could finish. “You need to get out of your lab more,” she added as she brushed a kiss to his head.
Santana grinned, “Exactly what I just said.”
“Alright, alright,” Artie rolled his eyes and rolled himself towards their room. “Let’s get our outfits coordinated and whatever we need to do—it’s in a few days, innit?” The two women followed him, talking about different subjects—ranging from what the others might be wearing, to Lord Tubbington’s successor’s latest attempt at freedom.
hopefully its readable now. fuck
make is pool sex |:
I haven’t written porn in forever
and you’re a horrible influence
It’s a post ‘thanks-for-saving-my-life’ kiss. Not a huge deal, except that it is, and really, Stiles could get on board with the kiss, could just let go and have his way with Derek’s mouth, but then Derek’s trying to pull away, eyes red and looking almost pained. “Sorry.”
What was that? The Derek Hale was apologizing? For kissing Stiles? Really?
Stiles shook his head, used the water in the pool to his advantage and had Derek against the wall of the pool, rather than himself. “No, shut up,” he said, surprising himself, before he’s closing the distance again and Derek’s a bit more than willing to do that. Role reversal. He can get behind that.
Literally, and figuratively.
They’re kissing, and kissing, and Stiles has one hand holding Derek against the wall, the other roaming everywhere, his hand having a mind of its own. Derek’s hands wander from Stiles’ hips, to his back, to his thighs, and anywhere else they could reach. When a need for air strikes them both, they’re breathing each other in, lips shivering because let’s be honest—they’re in a pool, and the water is actually cold.
“We should get out,” Derek mutters.
“Yeah.” Stiles licks his lips, cringes at the chlorine-taste (remembers “wow this must be so much worse for Derek”), and scrambles away from Derek, as he tries to walk out of the pool with a semblance of grace. It doesn’t happen, and he flails a couple of times, as well as being dragged down by the weight of his clothes.
And of course, of fucking course, Derek wades out of the pool like a Greek god. Stiles is a little jealous. He’d have to be blind not to be.
They’re drier, in Stiles’ jeep, with the heat blasting, when Derek reaches over and pulls Stiles into another kiss. Resuming their pace from before, it’s not long before hot hands are roaming still damp skin, and mouths are on any patches of skin they can get to, and Derek’s hand has traveled downwards until it’s grasping Stiles’ cock beneath his boxers.
Stiles, bless his soul, comes entirely too quickly for his taste, but Derek doesn’t seem to care, considering his eyes are glowing red and he’s licking his hand as Stiles watches. “Fuck,” Stiles’ voice is rough as he sits back up and Derek’s assaulting his mouth. He gets enough breathing space to groan, “Fuck!”
Expanding that roadtrip puckurt idea from earlier. Also, sorry for the tense changes—IDK WHAT I’M DOING ANYMORE
They make the day trip. It was to Mansfield—almost two hours away—and because Burt is awesome, let Kurt have his Navigator back. There’s not a hell of a lot to do, for them, unfortunately. Until Kurt opens up google and finds out there’s a haunted reformatory in town.
Puck jumps at the opportunity, only able to goad Kurt (and thus Finn) into going, because he says it’ll be fun to see Finn scream like a little girl. Kurt admits it’d be pretty hilarious, and agrees.
It’s when they’re on the tour, that Kurt starts feeling the touches along his back and arm that starts creeping him out. He numerously elbows Puck, and tells him to “Stop trying to scare me,”
“Dude, I’m all up for scaring Finn because the dudes a giant teddy bear, but you’d have my balls in a minute if it were me,” he said as he raises his hands.
Kurt huffed and rolled his eyes. “Where is Finn?” he asked as he looked around the group.
“Hell if I know—he probably wandered off somewhere and got lost,”
Kurt looked around them, “Let’s go find him,” he hissed and skulked away, unnoticed by the guide or the other guests. Noah followed obediently.
They found him one floor up, huddled in a corner. “Finn!” Kurt snapped.
Finn was by their side in a second. “Something was calling me, and then when I got here, the door wouldn’t open, and I kept hearing my name, and then a chair was thrown at me—I want to leave,”
Kurt and Noah looked at one another. “Holy shit, dude, I think you were just haunted for a minu-,” he was cut off as a chair was thrown at the wall behind them.
“Fuck!” the two brother’s yelped simultaneously.
It took Puck all of three seconds to blurt out his darkest secret. “I watch Supernatural—I GOT THIS,” and then he’s digging around in the bag he brought, pulling salt out and making a circle around them. “Now…we’re sort of safe,” he sounds sheepish. “We can’t actually do anything unless we get an actual apparition, because who knows who this ghost is,”
“Or we could just run for our lives,” Kurt suggested, looking impatient and freaked out.
“I vote running—running is good,”
“Pussies,” Puck muttered. “Fine—we’ll run and try find the group, or the exit—this thing is pissed,” he stopped to stare at Finn, “What did you do?”
“I DIDN’T DO ANYTHING!” Finn replied, covering his face, “I may have asked it if it was a ghost, and then laughed because GHOSTS ARE NOT SUPPOSED TO BE REAL, OKAY?!”
“STOP YELLING,” They looked to Kurt. “Okay, so what do we do if we do see an apparition?”
“Well, I’d say get iron and hit it, while running, but we don’t have iron,”
“Would a necklace be good enough?” Kurt made a face as he asked, pulling a looping necklace from his neck. “Gift from my grandmother—said it’s made out of iron and I honestly don’t know, but is it good enough?”
Noah nodded. “Okay, on three—we break the circle and run,” they nodded, steeled themselves, counted down, and ran.
They made it all the way to the truck before collapsing into nervous giggles. It was a victory laugh, Finn and Puck would argue. They were alive.
“Hey, some people don’t survive ghost attacks—we’re lucky,” Puck said as Kurt pointed out to him that they merely had to run out of the place.
“And I’m sure Supernatural taught you that?”
It took them two weeks to get through all 7 seasons before they set off for their road trip. They’d say they have a plan of what they wanted to do, but they’d be lying.
Idk if you meant it this way, but all I can think of is them fighting over chocolate like 5 year olds…so…sorry.
“No. It’s mine. I bought it. Do you realize how expensive that brand of chocolate is?” Merlin grabbed for the bar of dark chocolate while Arthur held it above his head, feet against Merlin’s chest to keep him at bay. He had found the chocolate when getting dressed, in the dresser, under a pile of socks. He gleefully called Merlin, while half naked, to boast his found treasure.
“Oh, come off it, I’ll buy you another one,” Arthur said as he started unwrapping the bar.
“YOU DON’T EVEN LIKE DARK CHOCOLATE!”
“YOU DON’T LIKE WHITE CHOCOLATE!”
“WHAT DOES THAT HAVE TO DO WITH ANYTHING?” Merlin threw his hands into the air, “AND WHITE CHOCOLATE IS AN ABOMINATION!”
“DO YOU KISS YOUR MOTHER WITH THAT MOUTH?! TAKE IT BACK!”
“GIVE MY CHOCOLATE BACK,”
“NEVERRRRR!” Arthur rolled backwards, briefly congratulating himself on his ninja abilities, and ran for the door. Merlin chased after him, but tripped, and caused them both to take a tumble into the wall.
They groaned as their pains set in, and Merlin languidly plucked the bar from Arthur’s hand. “Mine.” he mumbled with a sigh.
Arthur dropped his head onto Merlin’s shoulder. “Wanna at least eat it off this magnificent body?”
“The magnificent body that eats too much chocolate and doesn’t get out enough?” Merlin teased, already breaking off a bit, licking the tip and tracing it along Arthur’s back.
“Shove off,” Arthur grunted, biting down on Merlin’s arm, as his forehead was resting against Merlin’s shoulder.