yea so I suddenly need fic where stiles and derek accidentally are imprinted on by ducklings and they get very upset if the two aren’t together and derek, stiles discovers, is a giant brooding marshmallow.
This fic would definitely involve one or more of the pack walking in on Derek and Stiles sharing a bath with the ducklings. It would need to, obviously.
The ducklings chasing Derek around the loft.
Fighting each other to sleep in Stiles’ lap.
Yup. I need this.
hi i hope it’s okay that i wrote you a thing! it was meant to be a short thing but it turned into a very long thing and that’s why it took a billion hours
~*~
Thursday evening, Stiles and Derek are walking back to their cars after one of Scott’s not-quite-mandatory pack dinners, shoulders brushing companionably. “I like it when Kira picks the movie,” he says. “She has good taste. Duh, she’s dating Scott, but –“ Peep. “What the hell was that?”
He and Derek both look around, first at each other, then at the grass around them. They’re on the sidewalk in between Scott’s front yard and his neighbor’s, spinning around slowly as they hear it again. Peep.
“What the hell?” Peep. Peep.
It’s getting louder and they’re no closer to finding the peeping thing
“Stiles…” Stiles turns around to see Derek crouched down beside a sedan parked on the street. He’s peering under the car at what looks like a big pile of leaves.
“What is it?”
“It’s ducks.”
“Ducks?”
Derek rolls his eyes and looks over his shoulder. “Yeah. Ducks. Like…seven ducks.”
“Babies?” Stiles practically bounces closer to Derek and kneels down on the grass, peeking under the car at the brown and yellow little heads popping up out of the leaves and sticks. “Five, six…seven! Oh man. Hi little babies. Where’s your mom? Derek, where’s their mom?”
Derek stares at him. “Am I a duck whisperer? I don’t know where their mom is.” He straightens back up, dusting off the knees of his jeans. “I’m sure she’s around. She wouldn’t just leave them.” He takes a few steps back and peers up and down the street, looking for any sign of her. He hears Stiles make a muffled sound and looks down. Two tiny ducklings are sitting on his left foot.
“Derek,” Stiles says through barely contained laughter, “I think you just became their mommy.” A third duckling hops clumsily into Stiles’ lap with a satisfied little peep. “Oh,” he says, looking down as the rest of the ducklings scamper out from under the car and start crawling all over the both of them. “I think we’re parents.”
~*~
Hi!! I read the prompt, as well as the fic, and I hope its okay that I drew you both a thing~ ( I’m sorry im not used to drawing chibi’s, i hope its not too bad~)
For those that don’t end up stalking haletothequeen for so long until you end up on their AO3, here’s the full fic.
Tag: fluff
Fic Rec List
This is some fluff for my lovely Elisa @the-mess-sterek-left-behind
I SAID I’D FLUFF YOU UP SO BUCKLE UP BABE WE’RE GOING FOR IT!! ITS FLUFFY LIKE A PUPPY! Only with a side of porn okay? ❤
Were we? Well We Are Now by @red–city
The thing is, they never actually talked about it.Then Scott made a joke one day, calling Derek his boyfriend, and Stiles had rolled his eyes. But he didn’t contradict him.
Always Follow a Hippie to a Second Location by @deleted-scenes
It’s hard to tell just how long his hair is but it’s night-black and shiny and soft-looking, little strands falling loose from the messy knot high on his head that Stiles feels strangely compelled to put his hands on, to grip tight, which is ridiculous. He’s never been into hippie guys or guys with long hair, but he’s thinking now he might need to reassess that life choice because damn, how much fun would it be to fuck that ass while tangling his hands in that hair like reins, pulling his head back and leaning forward to get closer to his moans….
Cant be Hateful Gotta be Grateful by @halffizzbin
“Be cool, Dad, we’ve decided to con Grandma.”
(Or, the one where the Stilinski men drag Derek to Thanksgiving dinner at Grandma’s and she gets the right wrong idea.)
Dancing Shoes by @redhoodedwolf
Derek Hale is the most ruthless ballet instructor in Northern California. Rumor has it that Abby Lee Dance Company along with the show Dance Moms were looking to collaborate, even give him his own show, and he turned them down.
Stiles isn’t so sure about the Dance Moms rumor, but he does know that Derek Hale is a force to be reckoned with, because the man glares at him the entire time Stiles is interviewing for the position of studio receptionist. It’s not the glamorous dance teacher job he’s been dreaming of, but it’s a step up. If he gets hired, he’ll be working alongside the Hale family, one of the most well known names in dance. Just even having that title on his resume will allow him to be a shoe-in anywhere he wants.
He just has to, yanno, not die under the force of Derek Hale’s glare.
Wishing to be the Friction in Your Jeans by @thatworldinverted
Stiles is just trying to go to work every day and earn a paycheck. It’s not his fault he keeps getting distracted by six feet of muscle and the angriest scowl this side of the Cascades.
Picture this: Stiles and Derek reconnect at John and Melissa’s wedding after not seeing each other for nearly six years.
Derek has been back in Beacon Hills for a few months, he’s working as a contracted consultant with the Sheriff’s Department and rebuilding the old Hale house, but making it a place where the ghosts won’t haunt him anymore. He’s been seeing a therapist and dealing with his PTSD and his other problems. He’s happy, or at least he’s mostly happy.
Stiles just graduated from Columbia, Summa Cum Laude bitches, and is moving back to Beacon Hills where he’ll be basing his new bookstore and supernatural consulting agency that he started in New York City.
Stiles moved back just a week before the wedding and things were so busy helping his dad and Melissa get everything together that he hasn’t even really seen Lydia and Scott, let alone Derek.
The wedding itself is lovely. It’s small and perfect for John and Melissa. Stiles and Scott stand up with their parents and mostly Stiles tries to pay attention to the service, but he may have gotten distracted by a certain someone in the crowd.
He may have spotted Derek in the third row and lost his breathe for a second because Derek aged well. He’s just shy of 30 with flecks of grey in his full beard, his hair a little longer then Stiles had seen it and he looks amazing.
Derek spotted Stiles too and he almost missed the vows and kiss because Stiles’ grew up well. He had looked good when he was 17, but Derek had felt a little creepy eyeing a 17 year old so he didn’t make a move, but now, now Stiles is 23 and a little taller then Derek remembered, and his hair is shorter but no less disheveled, he even had stubble.
After the service, once the reception started, Stiles found himself hiding in a coat closet and face to face with Derek Hale for the first time in almost 6 years.
“Did Scott’s great aunt Maria get to you too?” Stiles asks as he looks over the stricken look on Derek’s face and the smudge of gaudy pink lipstick on his cheek.
“Does she do that to everyone?”
“Oh yeah, my ass still has bruises from last Christmas. She’s a handsy old lady.”
Next thing they both know they’re sitting on the floor in the coat closet, Stiles snuck out and got them snacks and a bottle of champaign. Derek forgot how funny Stiles is, how his laugh can fill the cracks in his heart,
And Stiles, well he’s seeing a new side of Derek Hale. He’s seeing the lighter side that he always knew existed, that he saw brief glimpses of, the side he had always been drawn to.
By the time Scott finds them almost two hours later, they’re both a little buzzed and grinning like idiots.
They end up slow dancing to the last three songs of the night, Stiles’ head on Derek’s shoulder. Derek might have even kissed Stiles on the temple at some point. It’s sickeningly sweet and Scott had to leave the room because all the emotions and smells were driving him crazy. He didn’t ever need to smell that amount of arousal coming off of his best friend and his returned pack member.
Lydia gets some really great pictures of them dancing and even manages to snag one of the temple kiss. When she goes to drop them off at Stiles’ apartment a few weeks later there’s a rather conspicuous black Camaro parked next to the beat up old Jeep.
She leaves the pictures in the his mailbox and gets out of there as fast as possible because the window to Stiles third floor apartment is open and she never needed to hear Derek Hale make those kind of noises.
Hiya! For a fluffy prompt: Stiles gets his first grey hairs and gets all huffy about it, cue Derek reassuring him that he’s as handsome as ever ^_^
Derek may be groggy and half-awake in the mornings, but he knows what he fucking saw.
“It is not a big deal, Derek!” Stiles shouts, watching as Derek paces back and forth in their bedroom, huffing.
“It is to me! I’m only thirty. This is not okay. I can’t… I don’t ever remember my dad having any gray hairs.”
Stiles sighs and walks to stand in front of Derek, effectively stopping him from running a hole in their carpet. Derek frowns, arms crossed against his chest, because if he can’t pace, he’ll just stand and look grumpy.
“Come here, big guy,” Stiles says, holding his arms out. When Derek doesn’t budge, Stiles rolls his eyes and hooks his hands into Derek’s crossed arms and pulls until Derek lets his arms drop and lets Stiles drag him closer. “Where is it?” Stiles asks moving Derek’s head down lower so he can see the top of his head.
“It’s right there, you can’t see it? It’s so obvious,” Derek grumbles, his words partly muffled since his chin is in his chest.
Stiles looks at the ceiling, grateful Derek can’t see his face right now because seriously Derek is being ridiculous. “I don’t see anything but gorgeous lovely hair, which you’ve always had.”
Derek huffs, then points to a spot on his head. “It’s right there.”
Stiles squints and gets closer, and yeah, he can see it, but it’s barely noticeable, not to mention that Derek is tall, so it’s not like a ton of people will be able to see the lone gray hair anyway. He doesn’t say that though, instead he says, “Well, I could pull it out but, you know like 5 more grow in it’s place, so that’s probably not a good idea…”
Derek gasps and pinches Stiles’s side, and Stiles laughs trying to flinch away. Derek lifts his head and wraps his arms around Stiles to hold him still. Stiles smiles and shakes his head at Derek, his hands against Derek’s cheeks.
“I don’t remember you freaking out this much when you started getting gray in your beard,” Stiles says rubbing the rough scruff on Derek’s face.
Derek shrugs, “I can shave so no one can see it, and you… you liked it and said I looked distinguished.”
Stiles grins. “You do. This is not any different. How is this any different?”
With a sigh, Derek shrugs, “Because it means I’m old. Today I have a gray hair, tomorrow I’m going to need bifocals and a hearing aid–”
Stiles hits him in the chest. “Stop it. You’re a freakin’ werewolf. Even if you lose your hearing, it’d still be better than any human’s is normally. Besides… growing old is okay. Cause we’re growing old together,” Stiles says, cheeks blushing as he ducks his head.
Derek grins and tilts Stiles’s chin up so he can give him a kiss. “Yeah. We are,” he says against Stiles’s lips. “So you really can’t see it?”
Stiles rolls his eyes. “No, Der, I can’t. And I wouldn’t care if all of your hairs suddenly turned gray. I’ve always wanted a silver fox anyway,” he says with a smirk that quickly disappears when Derek pinches him in the side again. “I love you, gray hairs, failing eyesight, hearing loss, and all.”
“I love you, too.”
bRO BRO BRO OKAy b rO I JUST REALLY NEED *shifty eyes* *leans real close* *slides 20$ bill from disney monopoly* /the warm and sleepy morning habits of those two and how much they love and cherish each other i just- i just need some fluff jUST/
Dude, I don’t have change for a 20, so here’s something you totally didn’t ask for, but it’s still fluff, so. Surprise?
* * *
”Mmmmmmhhhmmmm,” Stiles hums, as a
slightly cold nose and a slightly less cold face squirms up against
his neck, making him shudder before the contact warms both skin
surfaces enough for him to relax again. But it’s too late, he’s awake
now, and he groans softly in complaint before venturing to open his
eyes.Derek’s stupidly retro digital alarm
clock tells Stiles it’s roughly seven am. Which is roughly three
hours before he’d even remotely consider getting up. But, up or not,
he’s definitely awake. He’s also super comfy, however, due in no
little part to the super snuggly werewolf currently octopus-cuddling
him, and it makes him smile despite the early hour.He has to smile, has to, every
morning when he wakes up and realizes the past few years with Derek
has in fact not been just a very pleasant and probably drug-induced
hallucination. This is their lives now. No danger, no monsters. Just
nine to five jobs and too little time off, pancakes on weekends, and
picnics on full moons. Stiles spent at least two years waiting for
the other shoe to drop, but wherever it’s dangling around up there,
it’s certainly gathering dust by now. Hell, Stiles is about to put a
ring on it. Derek, not the shoe, though maybe a good marriage
proposal would make the damn thing go away for good.But Stiles worries. It’s just his
thing. It’s in his top three of greatest talents, right next to
sarcasm and sucking dick.
Gotta catch ‘em all
Jim is halfway between burning his master’s thesis to the ground and locking himself in his office for three days to finish it with nothing but beer and Sour Patch kids for company when he pulls the app up on his phone in order to preserve his sanity.
The disclaimer kicks in warning him to stay alert with a picture of a giant blue dragon about to eat a dude looking at his phone. Then the music starts and there are his stats: CaptainFine, level 19, Valor.
And there’s a Pikachu nearby.
The thesis gets forgotten. Jim starts wandering around the grad students’ offices, sometimes spinning in circles, noting when the distance markers signify he’s getting cold or hot. They take him into an open door, and sure enough, a giant yellow mouse with red cheeks stands in range.
Jim touches the screen, switches to the great balls (no way is he risking Pikachu breaking out and running away) and nabs him with a curveball on the first throw. “Shit yeah!” he says while jumping up and down.
“Uh…” a voice says to his right. Jim turns—there are two PhD students staring at him. One has a bowl cut and glasses, wearing a blue cardigan over a tie, and the other…wow he’s hot. Brown hair cut in a sexy style, green eyes like the grass after it rains, vintage Prince t-shirt and worn-in Chucks and jeans.
“What was that you were just doing?” says Bowl Cut.
The music continues to blare off Jim’s phone.
“Uh, it’s…Pokemon Go? You know that thing everyone plays all over campus. Well and the world, really. It’s kind of this insane phenomenon. There was a Pikachu and—”
Bowl Cut’s left eyebrow climbs into his hair.
But the hot guy immediately grabs his phone and turns on the app. “Pikachu has been elusive,” he says. The game boots up, and he shouts. “Yes!”
He manages to get the Pikachu too, and he renames it in his Pokedex.
Jim stares.
The guy smirks. “You better be Team Mystic,” he tells Jim.
Jim’s expression turns smart-assed. “Better red than dead.”
Team Mystic narrows his eyes. “Are you the one who keeps taking my gym?”
Jim bites his bottom lip. “You’re DoctorLen with the super high CP Vaporeon.”
“CaptainFine, you little shit,” the guy says, and they shake hands. Jim lingers, noting the guy doesn’t pull away.
“I have so many questions,” says Bowl Cut.
The Doctor snorts. “I’ve tried to get Spock to play, but he says it’s a sign of the end times.”
Spock sighs. “What I said is that we as a culture do not need more reasons to detach from the reality and people around us, as this game seems to be inspiring.”
“You just watched us make friends,” Jim points out. “Jim Kirk, by the way. I’m focusing my graduate studies on American military history.”
“Oh you’re Pike’s fella,” DoctorLen says. “Spock and I are under Boyce. History of medicine, Leonard McCoy.”
“Nice,” Jim says. He checks the app—there’s a Wheezing nearby. “Are you busy?”
“I can take a break,” Leonard says. He grabs a hoodie and a snapback with the Starfleet U logo on it.
“Someone set a lure downstairs,” Jim reads. “And there’s a Wheezing.”
They bolt out the door to the Pokestop, parking under it and catching a bunch of Pokemon. They talk while they do it, Jim learning Leonard’s from Georgia and his dad is a bit miffed he opted for history of medicine instead of an actual MD. Jim commiserates with a stepdad who wanted him at MIT. They nab pretty decent Growlithes, an Ivysaur, and a Ponyta. Jim stands close to Leonard the whole time, looking at him when his eyes aren’t on his screen.
The lure runs out, and Leonard shuts down the app. He gives Jim this sort of smile that’s only part of one, but it’s cute, and Jim is smitten.
“So,” Jim says. “Do you want to get dinner later? There’s a bunch of gyms and Pokestops just off campus in the historic district, and there’s this place with really good tacos—”
“I know that place,” Leonard says.
“Is that a yes?” Jim asks with a grin.
“Yeah,” Leonard replies. “Come back by my office again at eight. We’ll walk over together.”
Jim grins, and he reaches up and runs a hand through Leonard’s hair. Leonard flushes, but his eyes sparkle.
“It’s a date.”
The Sun’s in My Heart
Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Rating: G, Word Count: 865
Fluff, Established Relationship, Future Fic, POV Stiles
♥
Read on AO3For @sterekwriters Summer Bingo prompt: Sunshower
Stiles eases himself down into the
rocking chair with a sigh. The rain taps lightly on the roof of the front
porch. The smells of the woods and the dirt are strengthened by the rain and he
takes a deep breath in. He hears the clicking of Logan’s nails on the wooden
boards, and then there’s a wet nose pressing against his hand, the German Shepherd-wolf
hybrid demanding to be petted.‘Hey, buddy.’
Stiles scratches Logan behind his ears,
then lets his hand rest on Logan’s head as he looks out into the deluge,
rocking back and forth just a little. There are puddles forming on the path
leading from the house to the main road. In those puddles Stiles can see a
bright blue sky being reflected, the image broken by the raindrops adding
themselves to the puddles.‘You know I’ve only ever seen a sun
shower once before in my entire life,’ Stiles tells Logan. He glances at the
empty rocking chair beside him. ‘It was on our first date. Derek had it all
planned out. We were going to hike along the most scenic route through the
preserve, then have a picnic in a little clearing by a babbling brook. Very
romantic. But halfway through our hike, it started to rain.’ Stiles smiles at
the memory of Derek glaring at the sky, like he could make it stop raining if
he could just find the clouds. ‘It wasn’t raining that hard and I was sure it
would stop soon—about which I was right, by the way—but Derek, ever sensible to
my human condition, demanded we go back. In the end, we had a picnic on the
floor of his apartment.’Logan puts his head in Stiles’ lap,
looking up at him like his listening attentively. Probably just hoping there’s
a treat in it for him, though. Stiles doesn’t care, he digs his hands into the
fur, scratching just where Logan likes it, and continues his story.‘We kept the balcony door open because I
wanted to look at that same blue sky you see now. It feels wrong, but it’s also
awe-inspiring, don’t you think? How two seemingly incompatible things get
together and make something beautiful, create a memory you can’t forget? No
matter how many years have passed?’ Stiles sighs and Logan sighs with him. ‘It
can all be explained of course, it’s not really as magical as it looks. Often,
it’s just a strong wind blowing the raindrops to where there are no clouds, sometimes
miles away. Or there is just one raincloud, but the sun is at an angle where its
light doesn’t get blocked by that cloud.’Logan lets out a soft whine.
‘You’re right, it’s still totally magical.
Anyway, that turned out to be my last first date ever. Not that any other first
date could’ve topped that one. I got Derek with a wet shirt clinging to his
body, Derek without a shirt on his
body, Derek insisting on cuddling me so I would get warm faster—not that I was
cold in the first place. Yeah, the guy was pretty good at dates.’A pillow smacks into Stiles’ face, and
he splutters and flails in surprise, the rocking chair rocking dangerously far
back.‘What the hell, Der!’
‘Stop talking to Logan as if you’re
eighty and I’m dead,’ Derek says dropping down into the empty chair.‘You’re such a dick. I don’t know why I
married you.’ Stiles grabs the coffee Derek set down on the small table between
the chairs without him noticing. ‘Or insisted you get one of these chairs, too.
Because they’re awesome and you don’t deserve them.’ He takes a sip from his
coffee and hums around the perfect, bittersweet taste. ‘Okay, maybe you do
deserve a super cool rocking chair.’‘If making good coffee earns me a
rocking chair. What did I do to deserve you?’‘Weren’t you listening to the story? You
look amazing in wet clothes.’‘Hmm. So, you think a little repeat from
our first date is in order?’ Derek gestures at the rain.Stiles grins and nods. ‘Yes, I do. Go
stand in the rain for ten minutes, so I can admire your drenched physique.’‘As I recall it,’ Derek says, setting
his cup down. ‘I wasn’t the only one who got wet.’‘Don’t you dare!’ Stiles protests, but
he’s already setting his coffee cup next to Derek’s, and when Derek lifts him
out of the chair, he doesn’t struggle to get free. He just wraps his legs
around Derek’s waist and his arms around Derek’s neck as Derek walks out into
the rain.Logan barks at them from the porch
steps, telling them they’re insane.Stiles can’t stop smiling as he watches
Derek’s hair go limp from the rain, and tracks the raindrops trailing down the
plains of Derek’s face with his eyes. When he kisses Derek, Derek tastes like
coffee and rainwater, fresh and warm at the same time.They part and Stiles lays his cheek on
Derek’s shoulder. He clings a little tighter.‘You’re right,’ Derek says, looking up
at the sky then resting his cheek against Stiles’. ‘This is magical.’
Hi, it’s late and I’m sad but I was wondering if you could write me a happy, fluffy sterek with pack mom stiles? It’s totally okay if you don’t have time but it would make my day. Thank you! Love you writings by the way
I’m sorry you’re feeling sad, Mel. Here is some fluffy Sterek/pack mom Stiles for you. I am kinda sleepy, so I hope it’s alright (not sure it’s up to my usual standards, sorry!) I was going to have it be a secret relationship reveal at the end, but I switched directions last minute. I hope you like it, hon! If you need to talk, I’ll make some time for you *hugs*
[Disclaimer: I know some people have issues with the pack mom Stiles thing, but honestly, he has a lot of practice taking care of people, and all the rest of them desperately need to be taken care of, so I think it fits.]
*********
Stiles poured four cups of coffee and put the kettle on for tea as the toaster dinged. He deftly swiped the four finished slices out of the slots and dropped four more in their place; werewolves ate a lot, and breakfast is important.
Sipping from his own mug, he slathered butter and jam on each of the slices of toast, and shook the sausage sizzling on the stove, enjoying the soft popping sounds that broke the otherwise silent morning.
Looking out the window and drinking his coffee, he takes a moment to appreciate the gentle way that morning breaks through the woods surrounding the pack house. Golden light filtering through the leaves, shining through the kitchen window and casting glowing, warm light across the countertops, making the hardwood floors gleam. He takes a moment to take in the extremely rare silence in the house. Now that everyone is home from college for the summer, quiet times were rare indeed.
His reverie is broken by the loud clamoring of three sets of feet bounding down the stairs, followed by another, more sedate set of steps. He quickly plates breakfast and adds hot water to a waiting mug. A moment later, Isaac, Erica, and Boyd are shuffling into the kitchen in their typical zombie-like morning state of half awakeness.
“Ohmygod, coffee! Stiles, you’re my favorite human,” Erica half squeals half mumbles as she gratefully grabs the mug Stiles offers her.
He grins and hands her a plate, “There’s toast and sausage, too.” his grin widens when she kisses his cheek and mutters :I love you” into his hair. “Love you, too, Er.”
Boyd follows her, smiling sleepily but fondly at Erica. He takes the plate and tea that Stiles hands him with a polite, “Thanks, man,” and a friendly ruffle of his hair.
“No problem,” Stiles replies, holding back a smile at the brotherly gesture.
Isaac, the grumpiest of the bunch in the mornings says nothing when he gets his breakfast, but he half smiles and places a mockingly loud kiss on Stiles’ cheek. Stiles rolls his eyes, but laughs anyway, playfully slapping Isaac’s butt as he walks away. “You guys are useless in the mornings, you know that? What would you do without me?”
“I hope we never have to figure that out,” Derek says, chuckling lightly from the doorway, and Stiles turns toward the low rumble of his sleep rough voice. He feels a warm rush at the sight of Derek still sleep rumpled and soft, his dark hair sticking up at funny angles, soft lines etched on his face from his pillow, and an even softer smile just for Stiles.
Stiles holds out a plate and steamy hot mug in Derek’s direction, “Breakfast, big guy?” Derek walks toward him and takes them both, placing a gentle kiss at the corner of Stiles’ mouth.
“Thanks, babe,” he says against Stiles’ lips.
The moment is broken once again by a catcall and a grumbled “Gross,” from the kitchen table. Stiles and Derek share a laugh. “Ingrates,” Stiles growls in the direction of the pack, but then his lips are captured in a kiss again, and he can’t be bothered to be annoyed by his ridiculous friends.
Ice Cream Fix
Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Rating: G, Word Count: 636
Fluff, Established Relationship, POV Stiles, Hurt/Comfort (sort of)
♥
Read on AO3For @sterekwriters Summer Bingo prompt: Ice Cream
Stiles stares disconsolately at the
empty spot in the giant supermarket freezer where his chocolate-coconut ice
cream should be. He presses his forehead to the cool glass and groans. Today is
the worst day.He was late for work because his car
broke down. He had to cancel his date with Derek because he had to work later
to make up for starting late. The AC at the office was set to make everything
even hotter than it already was and nobody could figure out how to change the
setting. The restaurant he’d ordered his dinner from screwed up his order so
bad it was almost exclusively things he didn’t like. On the bus ride home, the
person next to him had a bouquet that was rubbing into his face for almost
twenty minutes, triggering his allergies. So right now, he is a hungry, red-eyed,
sweaty, smelly mess. He just wants to get his ice cream, sit on his couch and
eat the whole pint while watching stuff blow up on his television. Except he
can’t do that, because there is no ice
cream!With a sigh, Stiles pushes himself away
from the freezer and goes to get the next best thing.The cashier avoids his gaze as she drags
the five packs of Reese’s Cups over the scanner.Stiles drags his feet all the way to his
apartment, partly because he can’t see very well and he’d like to avoid being
run over by a car, mostly because he doesn’t really want to be alone. He could
call Derek or Scott, but he doesn’t want Derek to see him like this and Scott
is working.When he puts the key in the lock Stiles
hears someone moving around inside. Great.
Just what he needs: burglars. Might as well get it over with. He opens the door
and freezes, faced with a sight far worse than a burglar.Derek is sitting on his couch, glasses
of wine and a pizza on the coffee table in front of him. He looks perfect, with
his cute glasses, tight tank top and nine o’clock shadow—at least, Stiles is
ninety percent sure it’s Derek, since his vision isn’t fully restored yet. The
sight of his amazing boyfriend on his couch makes Stiles feel even worse, because
he is the exact opposite of the beauty in front of him, right now. He lets his bag
crash to the floor and tears up.‘Hey, what’s wrong?’ Derek asks as he
quickly walks over to Stiles and cradles his face.‘Everything! Everything is wrong! I’m a
disaster and you’re perfect and there was no ice cream left!’ Stiles shouts,
his voice cracking on every other word.‘You’re not a disaster. You’ve just had
a bad day,’ Derek says. He places a light kiss on Stiles’ lips and wipes away a
tear rolling down Stiles’ cheek. ‘And we both know that I’m far from perfect.’‘’S true,’ Stiles admits with a snivel.
‘You always leave your towels on the bathroom floor and you can’t whistle on
key.’‘Also, the grocery store was out of your
ice cream because I took the last one. It’s in the freezer.’‘I love you,’ Stiles says, because there
really isn’t anything else to say. He smiles up at Derek.‘I love you, too. And what on earth happened
to your eyes?’‘Right, I couldn’t text you about that,
because I can’t really see, because someone shoved a bouquet that was basically
made of pollen into my face.’Derek turns Stiles into the direction of
the bathroom.‘How about you go take a nice refreshing
shower, put on some clean, non-smelly clothes, and then we’ll watch some Star
Wars while eating pizza and ice cream?’‘Can we eat the ice cream first and the
pizza after?’‘Of course.’
A little birthday gift for Em ❤ happy birthday hun!
(sorry for my mistakes, this is totally unbetaed ;_;)
shealwaysreads 