bakerstreet | The Abrupt Kiss Meme!

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The Abrupt Kiss Meme!

The Abrupt Kissing Meme

Plain and simple: your character is being kissed. Abruptly. How did this happen? Were they talking too much to the point where it was the only way to shut them up? Was someone bidding adieu or just not able to hold in their feelings? Or was this some CPR class gone bad? More importantly—how do they react?

How this works:
→ Leave a comment with the usual information in the subject line: character name, fandom. Any preferences, including what you don't want, should be included as well. Congratulations, your character is being kissed by whoever tags them!
→ Tag around.
→ Feel free to roll RNG (1-9) if you cannot come up with scenarios of your own.
→ Have fun, and be excellent to each other!

1 — Simply put: I like you. (You may or may not know this already.)
2 — I did it to shut you up. (It worked, didn't it?)
3 — I've always been curious... (About what it'd be like to kiss you.)
4 — It was an accident! (I totally tripped!)
5 — Farewell. (I may never see you again and...!)
6 — Taunting. (Bet you didn't see that attack coming didja?)
7 — CPR (You were asleep and you suddenly woke up..?)
8 — No more waiting! (Ain't nobody got time for that.)
9 — Fuck da police. (In other words, the random/whatever option.)

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Beacon Hills wasn't a massive town, so Derek was surprised to realize just how active the nightlife was when it came time to go somewhere that wasn't the woods in the middle of the night. The town was big and lively enough that it had use for more than just a couple of nightclubs. Not that Derek was the type to ever make use of any nightclubs for normal reasons, but that was an entirely different issue.

Getting into the club itself wasn't the problem even with Stiles in tow, likely because Derek looked meaner than the bouncer at the door had. They were only there to find one person, some witch they'd found through connections Deaton had, and that led them to the set of stairs that would bring them up to the VIP section. That was where they ran into trouble and ended up stopped by the couple of guys that were blocking the stairs from the rest of the club.

Even after stating who they were there to see, one of the guys stated that they couldn't let the two of them through. "Unless you're a couple, he's not meeting with you," the larger of the two informed them. "Kiss or you're not getting up there."

There was a brief moment in which Derek considered other ways up into the section, but, for once, he wasn't okay with going in without Stiles. Stiles was the one that leaned more toward magic and he wasn't going to see whether or not actual witches disliked werewolves when he had no idea what to expect.

So, after a resigned sigh to himself, Derek turned to Stiles, grabbed him by the back of the neck, and pulled him into a very sudden kiss that he dragged out just a little longer than was probably necessary. Then he broke it and the two smirking bouncers stepped aside so he could grab Stiles and pull him past them without a word.

Getting in the club wasn't the problem, and Stiles was actually glad to have Derek there to scowl-glare the bouncer into submission. He'd given him a cheeky smirk before following the werewolf in, sure of their success and of how the night would result in them finally finding out about more of this magic stuff, hopefully by someone who wasn't trying to kill them.

That idea was squelched by the demand at the stairs to the VIP section. As soon as he heard the word 'kiss', Stiles rolled his eyes, almost at the point of throwing up his hands because, come on, really? That was the lamest thing in terms of requiring pro--

Holy shit. There was a pair of lips on his that weren't his own. They also weren't the cold and flat reflection of his own like the few times he'd practiced kissing on a mirror. No, these were hot and hard and surrounded by stubble.

Then they were gone and Stiles could only blink up at Derek as his brain refused to process what just happened. His body went on autopilot as he was grabbed and hauled up the stairs, his brain occupied with the fact that Derek Hale had just planted one on him. His first kiss was with Derek Hale. His first kiss wasn't even a real kiss and it was with Derek Hale in a club while they were witch hunting. "Uh..."

It wasn't until they were halfway up the stairs and the two guys at the bottom weren't watching them anymore that Derek glanced back at Stiles, raising his eyebrows a little. "Uh what?"

There was nothing to talk about and if Stiles tried, Derek was going to ignore him. The thought of threatening to knock him down the stairs was also at the back of his mind, but he was trying to keep threats off the table. And he felt like that was more important to do when they were about to be in front of some witch and who knew how many other magic users.

"Uh, your mouth. Was on mine." He felt he had to point that out in case it hadn't been obvious enough. You stole his first kiss, Derek. This was a BIG DEAL as far as Stiles was concerned.

But he kept walking up with him, stunned into compliance.

"And?" Derek was good at indifference. It was one of those well practiced things so he didn't have to show he cared about things even when he did. He had no idea the kiss was Stiles' first, though, and had that actually crossed his mind, he wouldn't have done it.

When they reached the top of the stairs, there was a single man sitting on a plush couch against the far wall and he was very lazily clapping for the two of them.

"And --" He was cut off by them reaching the top of the stairs. He licked his lips out of a nervous habit when he heard the clapping, but that just made him taste Derek. Oh god, he knew what Derek tasted like? The world was a horribly cruel place and he hated it.

Derek would've argued that, technically, Stiles already had an idea about that from other encounters when he was all werewolfed out, but it wasn't a topic for discussion. The man in front of them waved them closer and motioned to the smaller couch off to one side that was facing his.

"Come in. Sit down." He had a light, southern accent and sounded almost mockingly nice. Derek bristled a little at the sound of his tone as he moved in the direction of the couch. "We have things to talk about, don't we?"

Stiles was distracted by the way they were being greeted and by the whole scenario, actually. He needed to get his head back in the game. "Thanks."

He went and sat down, hands folded between his knees as he looked the other man over. He wasn't a big bulky guy, but hey, magic wasn't heavy or anything that required muscles, was it?

He ended up beside Stiles, but he didn't take his eyes off of the man that sat across from them. There was nothing particularly dangerous looking about him. If anything, he looked pretty relaxed.

"You're a werewolf," he pointed at Derek then followed with a nod in Stiles' direction. "But you're not. You. Come over here." He pointed at Stiles the second time and then pat the cushion beside him.

He looked over at Derek, a silent plea of 'help me' in his eyes before he slowly got up and went over to sit as far away from the witch as he could while still occupying the cushion. "Uh, how--" His voice broke and he cleared his throat. "How did you know that? Just by looking at him?"

Because that would be a nifty trick to learn.

Derek watched him go, wanting to get up and stop him, but not wanting to piss off the witch in front of them either. If there were any moves to do anything to Stiles, though, all bets were off. Nobody else was upstairs to stop him from leaping across the space at the guy.

"A friend told me the two of you were coming. A werewolf and a boy with potential." He looked Stiles over like he was judging whether or not he was worth spending any time on. "How much experience do you have with magic?"

"Ah, well, I had a pretty kick ass blue/white deck that was almost unbeatable, except for my black/green." He gave a little nervous laugh, knowing that wasn't what the man was talking about at all, but hey, he'd been pretty decent at Magic before he hit high school.

"Who told you we were coming?"

Across from them, Derek let his head drop with a sigh at Stiles' joke. When he shifted on the couch, though, he realized something wasn't right. The movement felt off, like he couldn't get up if he tried. Then he did and, no surprise, his ass left the cushion for a second before he was yanked back down like the couch was some sort of werewolf magnet.

"A friend that sees things," the man offered, smiling as he watched Derek struggle with the couch. "I could teach you a few tricks, but that's not what you're here for, is it?"

Stiles looked over when Derek got up, partly, then sat back down. He had no idea what was going on, but the Alpha didn't look happy and that made Stiles even more unsure about being this close to the guy.

"Ah, no. No, we're here about a pack of homicidal Alphas who probably have someone who dabbles with them. I want to know how to keep them from doing any more hoodoo on us."

That was a key need for them. He didn't want to wake up an Alpha again, or worse. Was there a worse? Probably, and he bet they'd find it.

"The Alpha pack." There was a note of amusement in the man's tone that made Derek struggle to get up again because, no, they were definitely in the wrong place.

"I hear you were turned into a werewolf for some time," he said to Stiles, the smile still fixed on his face. "Did you have fun with it?"

"I was... wait, how did you know about that?" The look of dawning realization suddenly started creeping onto Stiles' face and he moved to get up, to move back to Derek.

A hand came out and clamped on his thigh, something like an electric charge passing through him and keeping him pinned in place. He made a pained sound, lids flickering before he managed to focus them on the witch. "You. It was you."

Derek ended up against the couch again as he watched the witch grab Stiles and he grabbed the cushion off of the other side, trying to chuck it at him out of lack of anything else to do. It didn't make it far, though. The cushion hit some kind of barrier that was surrounding the couch and landed on the floor at Derek's feet with a thump as the witch clicked his tongue.

"Sit still. I'll feed you soon," he scolded Derek before returning his attention to Stiles to smile at him again. "It was. Now sit down and tell me how it was."

He looked over at Derek, fear starting to replace the understanding. Shit. They were so screwed. So very, very screwed. He had something in his pocket that he was willing to use as a last resort, but he was honestly thinking it was full of crap.

But Deaton had said it was about intent. Intent and his will. He looked up at the witch, licking his lips again and trying to get his leg free from the grip he had on it. "How do you think it was? You gave me an Alpha's ability with no control behind it."

Reaching forward just proved that there was something solid in front of him. Invisible, but solid and clearly werewolf proof if Stiles came in and left it with no problem.

"The power, boy. Did you enjoy the power?" The smile was waning and it was clear that the witch was getting impatient, like he was testing Stiles over something and he wanted an answer so he could move on.

"No, not really." He wondered if Derek would be able to hear the trip of his heart over that lie. He'd liked being different, being on a level playing field with people who'd easily pushed him around before. He liked not having to worry about being the fragile one, the one in the way. But he hadn't liked the constant state of fear he'd been in before he'd learned that small bit of control. Fearing over his family and friends, for for them from him. No, he hadn't liked that.

"My dad would be the first one to tell you I'm not responsible enough for that kind of power."

Derek did hear it, but it wasn't that much of a concern since he'd been on the other side of the gloating when Stiles had the power. He recalled it pretty damn well and he knew how much he'd liked it, so it wasn't a surprise to him. Derek was busy dropping to the floor in the small space between the couch and the invisible wall so he could peer under it and spotting a mark drawn on the floor.

The witch watched with some interest as Derek reached under the couch and then cursed and jerked his hand back after getting shocked. "He'll learn not to touch them eventually," the witch remarked, tilting his head as he returned his attention to Stiles. "That's a shame. I was hoping I'd be able to teach you everything."

"I'd say I'm sorry to disappoint, but I'm not. I was more of a Luke Skywalker guy than an Anikan guy." He reached his hand into his pocket, trying so very hard to be subtle about it.

"So how about you undo whatever spell it is you've got going here and me and my friend can go." It was a futile plea, but he had to at least see if it would work. Some people could be reasoned with, right?

Pushing himself back up on the couch, Derek rotated his shoulder, feeling a little like the electricity had run all the way through him rather than just sparking his fingertips. He looked at Stiles again, listening to him.

The witch watched Stiles then looked at Derek, slowly settling back against the couch again. "You can go," he replied to Stiles, glancing over at him, eyes darting to his pocket. "But your friend is my pet now. He'll have to stay."

"Didn't you see the little show downstairs? We're a couple." He had no idea where that came from, but hey, wit was wit. He stood, placing himself so that he could see both of them.

"Derek, run." He grabbed the handful of what he had in his pocket, pulling it out and throwing it in a wide arc that covered both Derek and the witch, his mind fully focused on this doing what he'd read it could do.

Salt was a great magical nullifier, rings of it able to keep a lot of spells at bay, but it could also disturb, distort, and dispel any enchantments or charms. Or spells being cast by evil witches that had some weird sort of gimp fetish.

Stiles Stilinski | Teen Wolf | OTA

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