veronicabunch:

Teen Wolf. G. 5.6k.
Stiles/Derek. Fluff. Domestic. Assumed dating. Fake relationship.

Two idiots in love who think having a fake relationship and a fake breakup is the way to handle clearing the air when some people assume they’re dating… because that’s what they told them.

(read on ao3)

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“I know you can hear me right now, so please come help me carry up these bags,” Stiles mutters. He waits a moment before getting out of Derek’s Camaro and popping the trunk. Stiles leans back on the heels of his feet and frowns. He may have gone overboard.

“Jesus, did you buy one of everything?”

Stiles does not jump. He’s used to Derek sneaking up on him these days. But when their eyes meet, Stiles sees Derek’s smirk. He knows Stiles’ heart rate has spiked. Fucking bastard.

“I have big plans this week,” Stiles says, defensively. He watches as Derek starts to slide the handles of the bags onto his arm. Stupid fucking werewolf strength.

“I’m not doing this all by myself, you know,” Derek tells him over his shoulder. He steps back and damn. Derek’s wearing the black t-shirt that Stiles had accidentally shrunk in the wash. It’s so goddamn tight over his chest… his arms… and when Derek adjusts himself, it shows a little of his midriff.

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