isaacs pink lips do things to me

thinking of you || isaac lahey

word count: 1416

warnings: saudade

prompt: based on this song

author’s note: you may have seen this before, but i swear this is mine. my previous blog was deleted so i’m reposting all of my imagines on this one! :)

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redneckyacht  asked:

Okay I desperately need 7. from the christmas prompts list. Stiles having a full out powerpoint presentation "THIS IS WHAT I WANT" or Stiles subtle hints that are too subtle or Stiles' definition of subtle that has everyone convinced he's losing his mind but he really really really just wants that super awesome flannel over there. Or whatever version/variety of this you want, just give me Stiles and Christmas and Derek being awesome

Here you go dearest 🎄☺️🎄

It’s supposed to be a quick shopping trip. They need garbage bags, batteries and another giant box of k-cups. But they stopped at Target and there is something about Target that makes people shop and wander aimlessly for hours. So it’s unsurprising that they’re in the clothes section 30 minutes in to what was supposed to be a 10-minute trip.

“Look at this, Derek,” Stiles says, voice tinged with awe.

His long fingers are running over the sleeve of a plaid shirt, which honestly, looks incredibly comfortable.

“It looks like it will fit right in with the other 20 plaid shirts in our closet,” Derek answers deadpan and walks away towards the home goods section.

*

“Derek, please just. I’ll buy it and you can wrap it up and give it to me for Christmas,” Stiles pleads.

They’re back at Target, two weeks later and Derek has refused to let Stiles buy the shirt he wants.

“Please, please please?”

Derek’s standing there with his arms crossed, face blank.

“The holidays are coming Stiles, we agreed we’d stop buying ourselves things to keep our options open on gifts. So, no,” Derek replies gently but Stiles sticks his lower lip out in a pout.

“I hate when you make sense.”

*

Derek’s at the stove stirring the fresh pot of marinara sauce when Stiles sighs deeply. Derek peers over his shoulder at where Stiles is sitting at the island counter on his computer. He’s still pining over the plaid flannel shirt from Target.

It’s adorable.

“Hey, come taste this?” Derek asks quietly and Stiles blinks up at him over the top of his computer. Derek smiles softly, so happy he’s living with such an adorable man.

“Come try this,” Derek repeats gently, “I don’t want it to get too salty for your dad,” he explains when Stiles shuffles over.

He dips a spoon into the pot and tastes Derek’s sauce with a small smile teasing his lips.

“It’s not too salty, babe,” Stiles murmurs and leans into Derek’s chest. His face is tucked into Derek’s neck so his breath puffs across Derek’s collarbones. Derek puts his arms around Stiles and breathes him in.

“I really want that shirt.”

Derek groans.

*

Stiles is sitting in a sea of wrapping paper and gifts from the pack’s gift exchange and he’s trying to hide his disappointment. He’s doing a terrible job, but so far Stiles has gotten a car charger for his phone (which he desperately needed but come on Scott) and a scarf from Isaac. The pack has cleared out and Stiles is sorting through the paper to make sure no one lost anything in the mess.

Derek was going to wait until the morning, but his boyfriend’s face is doing that thing where he looks all forlorn and Stiles shouldn’t look that unhappy on Christmas Eve.

“Stiles,” Derek says gently and Stiles looks up at him, eyes big and sad. “Want to open one of your gifts from me tonight? I promise it’s not a car accessory from the gas station.”

Stiles’ eyes light up and that smirk returns to his plush pink lips.

“Yeah, but just one,” he answers seriously, “We need to leave some for the morning.”

Derek nods and walks over to the tree, he knows exactly which package he wants to have Stiles open. It’s a decent sized box with a singular tag and bow adorning it but Stiles’ eyes sparkle again when Derek places it in his lap as he sits down on the couch next to him.

Stiles carefully pops the tape from the ends of the box and then the piece on the bottom, keeping the paper neat and the tag intact. The box is meant to be deceiving and Stiles just snorts at the re-used hand mixer box and gets it open, pulling out the tissue wrapped present.

With the box now discarded on the floor, Stiles pulls the tissue paper back and gasps.

“That’s not the shirt from Target,” he says hesitantly, like he’s not trying to sound ungrateful or disappointed just, stating a fact.

“It’s not,” Derek says clearly, a cautious smile playing on his lips, “Can I explain why before you get disappointed?”

Stiles nods and Derek internally breathes a sigh of relief.

“Well see, whenever I borrow your flannel shirts you got from Target they always end up stretched out and wonky afterwards. Even if Scott borrows one it gets all weird after. So I found this one that’s just as soft and still can be washed with all your other ones but it’s a little bigger in the arms and won’t get loose and baggy on you.”

Stiles is looking at him with wide eyes and Derek finds himself continuing to ramble.

“And I didn’t want to like, test that theory but I know you like how my shirts smell so I maybe slept with it a few nights before I wrapped it up and-“

Stiles finally has mercy on him and cuts off his nervous speech with a kiss. It’s only a moment before Stiles is pulling back, his hands which had found their way to Derek’s face are continuing to cup his cheeks gently.

“It’s perfect, Der,” Stiles says quietly in the space between them. “I love it. Almost as much as I love you boo.”

Derek groans and sits back but Stiles just climbs into his lap.

“You promised Stiles. You promised to stop with the nicknames until after the holidays.”

“Well you promised me a shirt from Target,” Stiles shoots back playfully, clearly enjoying Derek’s frustration. Even though boo is pretty tame for Stiles it’s the principle of the matter.

Derek can feel his ears start to burn and Stiles’ fingers trace one of them as he smiles brightly down at Derek.

“You bought me another shirt from Target just so you wouldn’t break your promise, didn’t you?” he asks amusedly.

“Yeah,” Derek sighs and then Stiles is tossing his head back and laughing and Derek can’t help but stare.

“I don’t deserve you,” he tells Derek when he finally sobers and looks back down at Derek’s blushing face.

“I think we deserve each other,” Derek says, pulling Stiles back into him for another kiss.

Holidays are hard for them both, but with the family they’ve built with each other, this year isn’t going to be quite as bad.

As long as they stay away from Target.