otp: we're good for each other

2

I just need to comment on the parallels here.

In the first one, Delilah is in the hospital, and Gibbs decides to stay with McGee, after McGee asks to sit with him. He is the only one to stay with him, looking over him.

And three-ish years later, who is the first person that McGee calls when Delilah collapses? It’s Gibbs, his father figure. And together, they sit and wait for news. Gibbs keeps him company.

Both times, Tim and Delilah’s world was turned upside down. First was in a bad way- Delilah’s paralysis. And then in a good way- Delilah’s pregnancy.

It just displays how close Gibbs has grown to McGee since he joined the team, and how they have an important father/son relationship, and how important Gibbs is to both Delilah and McGee.

can yall imagine
  • [both extremely high]
  • dennis: just to be totally clear, we're shooting each other to determine whether we're holding guns or brooms, right? not because you're still mad at me for leaving and not calling for so many years?
  • mac: shhhh den. as you know, i was hurt. but then i realized that's just how you are. you know maybe i just need to stop expecting you to be a good person, so that way, i won't get hurt when you're not.
  • dennis: oh, okay.

Sometimes I just look at screens/gifs of this part

And I just get a so fangirly about my otp and how CLOSE they are. Like, think about being in a position like that with someone in real life, with them behind you and their arms pretty much around you, and you trust them and like them and you’re just completely encompassed by them and their warmth. Like, just think about how AWARE that both Wally and Artemis must’ve been at their proximity, like holy shit that is fucking CLOSE, this is like carrying-Artemis-bridal-style-through-the-desert-when-we-were-suffering-from-amnesia close; this is “holy shit I can feel his breath on my neck” close.

And this is like, such a big move for Wally too, to just get right up behind her like that and put his hands on either side of the bow. Like, he didn’t even think about it, he just did it, he’s soooo more than ready to take a chance with her at this point, I believe with all my heart that he and Artemis were so beyond ready for each other by the time this episode even rolls around, they’re done dancing around this shit, the air is clear of the things that were holding them back and now they’re ready to take a chance.

Also: HE’S SHIELDING HER FROM THE VACUUM OF SPACE HOW SWEET IS THAT?

I just… ugh, this is such a really good moment? I never really have gotten over this moment (like I’m over ANY of their moments, really, lmao.

MY CHILDREN.

Soft/Sweet, Warm/Cozy

Or the 5 times Stiles hid his face in Derek’s chest and 1 time it was already there.

This is for Vanessa @sterektrashbag because I heard it was her birthday and also because she has a kink for Stiles pushing his face into Derek’s chest and I have a kink for 5+1 fics and when she read my tags on this post, well, I couldn’t help myself.

Happy Birthday, Vanessa! I hope this made it better!!!! (sorry I’m so late I’m kind of the worst ugh)

5.

Stiles loves his Jeep just about as much as he loves Scott. Actually, he loves the Jeep just a little bit more because it won’t knowingly abandon him.

That was a little shady but Stiles was a little pissed so it was fine.

But nothing would have prepared him for his baby to betray him. Not like this.

It was approximately ten degrees warmer than a Yeti’s asshole and Stiles was sitting in his Jeep freezing his fucking ass off at a stoplight. The heater was on full blast and Stiles knew it wasn’t doing much because the car was still practically a meat locker and until the car warmed up, the heater wouldn’t either. But he was desperate okay, this was California, it wasn’t supposed to be like this.

Yanking his hands inside his useless jacket sleeves, he put his numb hands back on the steering wheel. When the light changed and Stiles went to accelerate, he heard it. The unmistakable sound of something in his car saying “nope.”

The icy breeze blowing frantically out of his vents stopped short.

“Fuck. No, no.” Stiles hissed, teeth clacking together due to his shivering. “Come on, sweetie, don’t do this to me.” He begged, furiously turning the heat on and off, changing the temperature and vent settings, attempting to get anything to come out. “Shit.” Stiles whined, stopping at a sign and smashing his head against the wheel.

Stiles couldn’t believe it. His girl, his one and only, decided that today was a good day to crap out the heater. And Stiles doesn’t have as much self-preservation as he likes to think, so he didn’t bring gloves or a scarf like fucking Isaac wears or a hat or really a coat that does much more than cover his clothes and right as the damn car was starting to get warm, nothing.

It just stopped. Nothing blowing, no matter how much Stiles messed with the controls the heating was kaput. As much as he begged and pleaded with his girl not to do this to him it seemed he must have slammed his door a little too hard after Scott and him had their most recent pissing contest and she was mad enough to let him freeze his skinny ass solid to his seat. Dammit.

So now, his fingers are frozen solid to the steering wheel, his legs are going to break off from frostbite and he’ll be an invalid having to wait for someone to hear his screams of wintery pain and come to save his sorry ass. He wasn’t overreacting or something, okay. He could die.

His teeth were going to rattle out of his head if he didn’t get to Derek’s weird loft building soon. He’d be an invalid and need dentures.

And yes, it was icy and sure he shouldn’t have been speeding a good 15 mph over the limit but fuck if he wasn’t going to get somewhere heated, ASAP.

The rest of the drive was spent with Stiles convincing himself the causing his own car accident and later death was not the answer and that Derek’s place was not as far away as he thought. It didn’t help much but he tried.

When Stiles made it to the loft, he threw the car in park–not gently he was mad at her–and sprinted inside. Once he threw the door open and slammed it shut again, Stiles had to take a second to lean back against the wall and praise Jesus because, wow. He had still all his limbs and they were working for the most part. Amazing. Praise be to God.

Stiles got into the elevator and sat down, reveling in the heat blowing through the vent right into his shirt. It felt so good on his skin, he had to keep himself from moaning. Werewolves and their hearing, you know? They already think he’s a virginal, yet sexual deviant. Best not to give them any ideas.

The door opened and Stiles slowly stood back up, not wanting to leave the heat for a second. He bounced over to the loft’s sliding door and shoved it open, not bothering to close it. Stiles threw himself onto Derek’s bed, kicking off only his shoes and hiding himself under the comforter.

It was so soft and so cozy and Stiles just couldn’t help it okay, he moaned a little.

(And if part of that was because the entire bed reeked of Derek, who Stiles can say from firsthand experience smells really fucking good, well that’s no one’s business but his.)

“Were you born in a barn. Shut the damn door.” Derek growled from somewhere in front of the bed. “It’s fucking freezing, I’m trying to keep it warm in here.”   

Stiles peeked his eyes out seeing Derek standing at the foot of the bed with his thick arms crossed over that glorious chest. Stiles had to hold back a squeal of utter adorableness because Derek was wearing a fucking sweater.

One of those thick, chunky knit, green-grey ones that made his eyes sparkle. And his hair was a little messy and his beard was scruffy and he looked so damn soft and warm, Stiles couldn’t help it.  

He tossed off his jacket and scrambled out of the bed. “Sorry, I’ll go do that.” His speech was a little slurred because he was trying to distract himself from admiring the serious cleavage that Derek created when he crossed his arms and just, wow. “My baby had a massive bitch fit while I was in the car and the heating went out and I didn’t really wear anything to protect me from the kind of cold that can only be found in Cold Miser’s jockstrap and so on the way here, I was pretty sure I wasn’t going to make it out alive so you and I both should be thanking our lucky stars that I’m even here right now, I could be dead.”

Stiles was now standing in front of cuddle-me Derek and squeezing his hands into fists to keep from touching him.

Doing the sigh/growl thing only werewolves could master, Derek scrubbed his big hands over his face and down that deliciously scruffy beard. His arms dropped to his sides. “There’s coffee in the kitchen if you–”

He stopped dead when Stiles fell forward and buried his still-icy nose in between The Pecs. “Warm,” Stiles mumbled, voice muffled by the softest sweater known to man. And because Stiles was born with a broken brain, he slid his hands up Derek’s sweater.

First, touching those abs was a religious experience, okay. Praise be to God is right. Damn. And Stiles expected Derek to shove him away, maybe smack him upside the head and go pout in a corner somewhere, but he…didn’t. It was awesome.

“Your hands are freezing,” Derek mentioned, setting one hand on the back of Stiles’ head.

“No shit, that’s why they’re up your shirt.” He pushed his face further against all those fantastic tits. “And can I just compliment you, your tits are perfect for faces.”

“What a flattering thing to say.” Derek deadpanned.

Stiles sighed, ignoring the jab and slid his entire arms up Derek’s sweater and around his waist to lean against him. “Not my fault the cold froze a part of my brain and that you were sculpted by the gods.” Derek’s arms moved to wrap around his shoulders and waist, holding Stiles against him. Nuzzling his face against Derek, he closed his eyes. “You’re such a cuddle bug, this is so nice. Why don’t we do this all the time?”

A scruffy cheek rested against the top of his head. “If you want to, we can.”


4.

Isaac was a fucker. Stiles just wanted everyone to know.

A useless, stupid, asshat, meanie, fucker.

And he wouldn’t stop making fun of him.

“Stiles, please keep going.” Isaac goaded, smirking.

“Alright, I will. I mean, I know your education level is unbelievably low and you’re also pretty slow on the uptake, so I feel the need to take it upon myself to help you learn and succeed. Without me, you wouldn’t.” He smiled brightly. Take that, shitdick.

“Stiles.” Derek redirected. “Just tell us what it is and how we get rid of it. We know you’re smart, you don’t need to prove it.” His last bit was pointed at Isaac with an unimpressed look that implied, be good or time out. Stiles had to hold back a loud HAHA! And finger point.

Stiles sighed and nodded. “Okay, so it’s called an Enenra. It’s a dark sort of elemental. It’s not corporal and more like mist than anything. They’re made of smoke and shadow, drawn towards places where there was fire or fire-like damage. That’s probably why it’s been chillin’ around the Hale House.” He tried to ignore Derek’s flinch. “They’re Japanese in origin, so they don’t tend to have any reaction to incantations in Latin or Greek. We’ll need to ask Kira if she knows anything that could help.”

Derek nodded slowly. “That’s all good to know but how do we kill it? If it’s smoke like you said there’s no way to trap it. Not unless it’s susceptible to salt like some ghosts or ghouls are.”

Stiles had to keep himself from preening at the fact that Derek telling him that everything he had was good. He practically gave Stiles a cookie. “I think we could probably banish it if we have no other options. It’s an elemental. This thing is seriously powerful and from what I’ve seen, pissed off.”

Isaac leaned against the table, bored. “And if banishing doesn’t work?”

“Well,” Stiles shrugged, pushing his hoodie drawstring into his mouth and chewing on it. “I guess we’d have to find a way to make it solid and then figure out how to destroy it.” he sighed, continuing to suck and gnaw on the string. “What if we freeze it?”

Both Derek and Isaac simply looked at him, eyebrows raised.

“What?”

Isaac shook his head minutely, “that’s–”

“That might work.” Derek cut him off.

Stiles spit out his drawstring with a smile and stuck his tongue out at Isaac. Isaac sent him a sarcastic smile back and flashed his eyes. Stiles almost rolled his eyes but Derek smacked the back of Isaac’s head and he figured that was good enough.

Derek let out a heavy sigh and stood up. “I need coffee. Don’t kill each other. If you do, you’re cleaning it up.” Stiles and Isaac simply glared at each other as he left the room.

Remembering that Isaac wasn’t worth his time, Stiles got out his phone to send Snapchats to his dad. His dad didn’t really understand the purpose but Stiles knew it made him laugh. He held his phone up to take a picture of Isaac and just caption it, “douchebag in it’s natural habitat.” Tapping the screen to make it focus, Stiles spoke. “Hey, smile.” Isaac flipped him off. Perfect. “I sent that to my dad.”

Isaac scoffed, “you Snapchat your dad?”

Stiles simply locked his phone and put it back in his pocket. “I could say something really mean about actually having a dad but I won’t because I’m better than that.”

He didn’t even blink. It was creepy and Stiles hated him. “Right.” He muttered. Moving to sit on the table Isaac watched him. “So, is it like a thing you do where you ramble about shit that you know to people you like?”

Barely holding back a flinch, Stiles only mildly twitched. He hoped Isaac would chalk it up to the fact that he was a psycho. Isaac was convinced. “What are you talking about?”

Shrugging, Isaac pretended to be innocent. “I don’t know. I just noticed that whenever you have a crush on somebody you tend to try to prove you’re smart to them. Like you think that that’s going to make them want you or see that you’re not useless or something.”

Stiles knew that the other was onto him and his crush on Derek so he shrugged back. “I don’t know. So, is it like a thing you do where you only date your best friend’s girlfriend?” Bring it on, bitch.

Nodding and pursing his lips, Isaac tried to regain his footing. “You know Derek can hear everything we’re saying, right?”

“Yeah.” Stiles replied, unfazed. “He already knew you tended to go for other people’s girlfriends.”

“I saw the look on your face when Derek told you to keep talking about this thing. I know that you try to impress the people that you like with what you know. I mean, there’s not really a lot else to impress them with.” Isaac gave him a pitying look. Stiles felt his face heat up, knowing Isaac had put the pieces together. But Stiles couldn’t find it in him to deign the other with a response. Secret’s out. No point in wasting his breath.

Stiles could basically feel Derek standing behind him and hunched further into himself, mortally humiliated. Derek’s warm hand fell on his arm, more gentle than Stiles thought he could be. “Hey.” He said quietly, “You do impress me. Okay? There’s so much about you that makes you really interesting. And believe me, I’m interested.” Derek lifted his face to look at him. “Okay?”

Stiles smiled a bit, a nodded once, blushing again. This time though, out of happiness.

“Isaac?” Derek asked, making the boy stop from going up the spiral stairs. “Just because Allison yelled Scott’s name during sex instead of yours, doesn’t mean you need to take it out on somebody else.”

Stiles smashed his face into Derek’s chest to keep from howling with laughter. Sliding his arms around Derek’s back and giggling like an idiot would do for now.

3.

The pack doesn’t take long to figure out the two of them had been messing around for a while. Besides, once Stiles got laid, it was like he’d never spoken in his life. He couldn’t quit talking about it. He told any soul who’d listen about his and Derek’s relationship and how awesome Derek was and oh, did you know that Derek only eats Miracle Whip and not mayonnaise?

It was tiring.

But Stiles was so so so in love. One kiss from Derek and he was ass over teacups. And Derek honestly was a seriously good boyfriend. He let Stiles lay on his lap and steal food off his plate. The best part though, was that Derek loved seeing Stiles wear his clothes. So all of those comfy-ass, super warm, amazing boyfriend-smelling sweaters? Yeah, Stiles currently had hold of four. Score.

They were having a movie makeout night and since Stiles’ dad was working the late shift, sleepovers were happening.

Stiles provided the movies, Derek provided himself and food, and that was really all they needed. Because, come on, if your panty-melting boyfriend was coming over when your daddy was gone, naughty, sexy things were going to ensure. It was just how these things worked.

Stiles was just putting Coraline in the DVD player when Derek knocked on the door. Knocking back a swig of his Coke, Stiles called, “it’s open!”

His boyfriend came in wearing his green jacket and that one white t shirt that Stiles could see his nipples through and yes. Derek wasn’t looking at him even though his ass was stuck out just so he could see it and peering into the Target bag he brought with a frown instead. “I didn’t really know what you wanted and a lot of stuff was on sale so I sort of just grabbed some of everything–” he broke off on a grunt and dropped the bag when Stiles launched himself at him.

(Also note, it was sexy as hell when your boyfriend can carry you around with your legs wrapped around him. Two words people: Wall. Sex.)

“You’re the best thank you I love you.” Smushing kisses onto Derek’s face, Stiles clung to him. “We’re watching Coraline because it’s really quiet so I won’t get distracted by the sounds of it from us making out.” More kisses.

Derek just held him where he was. He was the best. “Okay.”

They didn’t last fifteen minutes into the movie.

Stiles was already in Derek’s lap, sucking on his tongue when Coraline got the doll that looked like her from Wyby. Pulling away from Derek’s mouth and sliding his hands down that frankly unbelievable chest, Stiles sighed when his boyfriend started kissing his neck. “Honestly, we need to make this a weekly thing.” He gritted his teeth when Derek bit down on his neck, knowing his dad was going to give him a look about the hickeys. “Couch makeouts are fantastic.” He yanked Derek’s mouth back to his. Pushing a hard, open-mouthed kiss to his lips, he rolled his hips against Derek’s lap. His boyfriend groaned, much to his delight, and slid the hand that was under his shirt right down the back of his pants, grabbing a handful of his ass. Stiles moaned quietly, breaking the kiss and pressing his panting mouth to Derek’s scratchy cheek. “Shit, your hands.”

Derek was back at his neck, pushing his face into the curve of his shoulder and breathing hot on his skin. Stiles gripped his shoulder and tugged at his hair, keeping his mouth where it was. His boyfriend’s face rubbed harshly against his throat, no doubt leaving an impressive stubble burn. Whining into the side of Derek’s face, Stiles almost squealed when two fingers slid between his ass cheeks. “Fuck,” he hissed, grinding his hips harder and loving when Derek’s grip on him tightened. He could feel Derek’s grin against his shoulder and laughed quietly, “bastard.”

“You love it.” Derek growled, pushing Stiles off of his lap and pressing his back into the couch cushions. Stiles bit his lip and leaned his head back against the armrest, spreading his thighs for Derek to fit his hips between. One of Derek’s forearms rested next to Stiles head, keeping their faces a few inches apart. His other hand slid down from Stiles’ hip, over his ass and under his thigh, pulling Stiles’ leg around his waist.

Stiles waited for more kissing to begin, but Derek simply looked at him, a fond expression on his face. Stiles smiled nervously. “What?”

His boyfriend shrugged. “Nothing.” He smiled softly. “You just look kinda cute from this angle, is all.”

That broke him.

Stiles felt his entire body flush red and covered his face with a squeal. “You asshole!” He whined, shoving his face into Derek’s chest, totally unable to look at him.

Chuckling Derek wrapped his arms around him, “what’s wrong?”

“That was adorable, that’s what’s wrong! You can’t spring cute, mushy stuff like that on me, if I had ovaries they’d explode!” For Christ’s sake, Derek was too damn sweet for his own good.

Stiles hated him.

“You’re the worst!” He groaned, not uncovering his still flaming face. “Dammit.”

Derek laughed at him and squeezed him tighter, smiling against Stiles’ hair. “I’m sorry. I am.” Stiles slightly let one eye see between his fingers. “I’m sorry. I won’t use fear tactics for gushy stuff anymore.”

A soft punch landed on Derek’s shoulder. “You better not, bitch tits.”

“I mean you’re cute all the time though, so I don’t really have to–”

This time Stiles actually screamed.

2.

Derek’s bed was nice. Like…really nice. He had super high thread count sheets and his pillows were the gel foam that stayed cool and his mattress was huge and soft and…really nice. And Stiles loved sleeping on it. It smelled nice too, but that was sort of beside the point.

Stiles was spread out on it, reading Macbeth for school and trying not to fall asleep. He hadn’t been getting a lot of sleep lately and he was hoping maybe sleeping somewhere else would solve that. It hadn’t yet, but if it meant snuggle time with Derek, he’d keep it up.

He let out a groan after he almost drifted off in the middle of Lady Macbeth’s crazy rant when Derek spoke.

“If you’re really that tired, just take a nap.” He sat on the edge of the bed next to Stiles. “I’ll wake you up in a bit and help you with that.” Derek pointed at the hardback book of the play.

Stiles’ eyebrows drew down. “You read Macbeth?”

Derek looked a little offended. “Yes.”

Gawping, Stiles scoffed. “BHHS made you read it when you went?” He knew his school was old and the curriculum was pretty shitty but for real? Shouldn’t they change that shit like every five years or something?

Rolling his eyes, Derek gave him Dumbass Look #1. “No. I read it because I wanted to.”

And honestly? What fresh hell was this? His boyfriend was some sort of freak who read Shakespeare for fun? “You’re some sort of freak who reads Shakespeare for fun?”

Yep, now he was offended. “Stiles, I wanted to be an English teacher. Of course I read Shakespeare for fun.”

This was just too weird. Derek couldn’t be a teacher. He’d be one of those sexy porn teachers who would spank a girl in a skirt that was too short and wearing a thong. He was already dating a high schooler! “Derek, if you were a teacher, people would put you on Rate My Professor and you’d override their system.” He said honestly. The blush on Derek’s cheeks and his ears was too cute for words. “And you’re weird. You read Shakespeare because you like it and you enjoy math.”

“Stiles,” Derek began seriously, “you like math.”

Stiles psshed at him a couple of times. “Well, yeah. I’m an overachiever and I’m smarter than Lydia. I like math because it’s /easy/. You like math because…I-I don’t know why you like it. You’re weird, with your beard and your eyebrows and your fuzzy hair. Ugh, disgusting.”

Derek watched him with a frown. “I really think you need that nap.”

“Derek!”

He only shook his head like a firm parent. “No, Stiles give me the book.” Stiles clutched it to him, he didn’t like it but that didn’t mean he wanted Derek to win. He whined when Derek held out a hand for it. “Stiles, give me the book.”

Growling, Stiles slapped it into Derek’s palm and crossed his arms like a petulant child. “I’m not a little kid.”

Derek tossed the book onto his table and crossed his arms as well. “No, you’re seventeen. You probably need a nap more than most three year olds. I know when you go to sleep.”

“Oh, yeah? When?”

“Never. Take off your jeans.”

Stiles gaped. “Why am I taking my jeans off if it doesn’t mean dick touching?”

His boyfriend looked to the ceiling, drawing a deep breath. He was probably asking God for the strength to not strangle Stiles. His dad did that a lot too. “Do you really want to sleep with your jeans on?”

Pouting, Stiles didn’t look at Derek. He sucked when he was right. “No.” He grumbled.

“Then take them off and get under the sheets. Just sleep for a little bit. I know you get antsy if you don’t sleep enough.” And that was what did it for Stiles. Derek knew when he needed sleep, when he needed his meds, when he needed anything. Because Derek cared. “Just try to nap a little, okay?” He pulled the sheet up over Stiles’ back and bent down to kiss his temple. “I’ll wake you up in a bit.”

A small affirmation escaped Stiles before he closed his eyes. He had forgotten how tired he was until he closed his eyes. He didn’t get to dwell on it long.

Stiles woke up screaming. He couldn’t stop seeing the blood. Allison getting run through with a sword. Hearing Derek screaming. Those Samurai like spirits shoving a katana through his chest.

Derek ran over to the bed, grabbing him under the arms and squeezing tight. “Shh, it’s okay, it’s okay.” He tossed the sheets back, crawling into the bed quickly and tugging Stiles into his lap. Stiles sobbed and curled up into Derek’s chest, pushing his face against him to hear his heartbeat instead of his screams. He cried into Derek’s shirt, clinging to him and letting his boyfriend rock them back and forth.

“It’s okay,” Derek whispered into his hair, pressing a kiss there. “I got you, you’re safe.”

Stiles heaved breaths in and out letting the tears fall. He sniffled into Derek’s shirt unable to begin to describe the nightmares that had been haunting him for weeks.

Derek held him tightly, unwilling to let go. “Shh, it’s over. You just cry for a little bit, okay? We’ll stay like this as long as you need.” Gasping air into his lungs, Stiles only clutched Derek tighter. It made him feel better, being wrapped up like that. Derek was strong and warm and safe and Stiles knew he wasn’t leaving. The echoes of his screams still roared in his ears and the blood spattered behind his closed eyes. Hiding his face further into Derek’s chest and overwhelming his senses with DerekDerekDerek was all he could do. Like he said, they’d stay there as long as he needed.

Stiles fell back asleep to the sound of his heartbeat.  

1.

Sheriff Stilinski was a nice man. He was also the kind of man that Stiles had to banish back to the couch four times when he told his dad his boyfriend was coming over.

His dad wasn’t an idiot, he knew something had been going on. Girlfriend, boyfriend, date friend, it didn’t really matter but Stiles could have sworn the man had a sixth sense for kissing or something because the night he and Derek kissed for the first time, the Sheriff was all over him.

“Stiles, I don’t have a sixth sense but you were smiling like an idiot and kept getting googly eyes. I know what that means to a teenage boy.”

It was a sixth sense.

The Sheriff sadly, already knew a lot of Derek’s background because, a) he’d been arrested and b) duh, his dad is a cop, even if Derek hadn’t been arrested, the Sheriff would find things out. But he never once told Stiles to ‘stay away from that boy’ or called him a backstreet boy or something degrading involving the word ‘boy’. And while Stiles was very aware that his older boyfriend had a serious case of Token Bad Boy going on, it was only because it worked for him and Derek had no sense of fashion.

But when Stiles had finally come clean about the whole, “lol remember when I said I was gay and you didn’t believe me? Haha yeah we were both half right” thing it gone a lot more smoothly than Stiles had thought it would. His dad basically just did the whole, sigh and nod thing he does a lot and gave him a hug before reminding him that condoms were still important. Stiles only slipped up when he laughed and said they already had that covered. That part was rough.

Now, Stiles and his dad had just gotten back from Arby’s and Stiles would be kicking himself for years for bribing his father with curly fries and a large chocolate shake. As soon as they got in the door, Stiles pushed his dad towards the stairs, giving directions as they went. “Okay, dad before Derek comes over you need to do some stuff for me.”

His dad turned around and gave him the Dad Brows. (Stiles still wanted to learn how to do it to see if it’d work on Scott.) “And what would that be?”

See, Stiles had made a list but his dad wasn’t going to like it. “Well–”

“Stiles, I’m going to treat him like I’d treat anyone you’re in a relationship with.” Stiles breathed a sigh of relief. “I’m going to ask him questions that I deem necessary and threaten him until I think he’s dedicated enough not to run away.”

Immediately, Stiles tried to keep himself from passing out. “No, no, dad, those are like the number one things that you cannot do to him.” Stiles flailed trying to get his bearings. This was going to be a disaster. Waffling momentarily, Stiles shook himself. “Look, just go upstairs, put on some regular dad clothes,” Stiles covered his eyes and pleaded, “for the love of God, don’t do the thing where you hide your gun around the back of your belt and then wait for the right moment to strike and bam! You move it out and rest your hand on it, don’t do that. And dad, daddy, I’m begging here, /be nice to him/.”

His dad gave him an unimpressed look and waved a hand. “Stiles, calm down. I’m not gonna shoot your boyfriend.”

Grabbing his dad’s arm and tugging him back, Stiles got serious. “Dad, for real. I really like him. And he’s kind of terrified of you so please don’t do the Sheriff thing. Do the dad thing.”

His dad pulled him in for a hug and squeezed. “I’ll be nice. Promise.” Stiles mumbled a thank you and let his dad go up the stairs to change out of his uniform.

Stiles was anxiously bouncing himself on the couch, his dad coming back down shortly to sink into the opposite side of the couch, trying to get away from Stiles fidgeting. They didn’t say much as they waited for Derek to arrive, Stiles trying not to call the whole thing off and his dad trying to keep his cool.

Each time a car passed by, they would both straighten up and look out the window behind them to see if it was Derek’s new Toyota pulling in. After the third time of them both almost getting up and going for the door, Stiles stood.

He pointed an accusatory finger at his dad. “Stay there.” He threatened, going over to the front door and checking his phone. Derek left twenty minutes ago. Stiles thought about texting him to see if he was okay he heard a car slow down and pull up into their driveway. Peering through the window next to their door, Stiles saw Derek simply sitting in his car. He shot him a quick text about how it would be okay and waited for his boyfriend to get out of his car.

Derek slowly came up onto the porch, something on his face akin to worry. Stiles moved closer to the door and hissed over his shoulder to his dad. “He’s here.” Pulling open the door after Derek rang the bell, Stiles smiled at him. “Hey, come in.” He stopped Derek with a quick kiss, seeing his face flush as they stepped away.

Stiles’ dad stepped up to Derek, holding his hand out to shake. “Derek,” the other man took his hand firmly, “Good to see you again, son.”

Derek looked like he was in pain. “You too, sir.”

The two stepped away from each other and Stiles slipped an arm around Derek’s waist, attempting to get him to calm down. The three of them watched each other silently, Stiles looking back and forth between his boyfriend and his father. He awkwardly cleared his throat, “Why don’t we sit down?”

They went into the kitchen and sat at the table. Still, no one spoke.

Another minute of silence before Stiles’ dad broke it. “So, Derek,” Derek looked to him with wide eyes. “Stiles told me you live somewhere new.”

Derek nodded stiffly and seemed to stumble over his response. “Um, yeah. I bought an older warehouse building and had it renovated to make each floor have a few loft spaces. I live on the top floor.”

The Sheriff hummed. “Good. What else have you been doing? Not getting yourself arrested, I’m glad to see.” His dad smiled nicely, and Stiles mentally thanks his dad for it.

His boyfriend looked almost surprised at the smile and attempt to tease him. Stiles assumed it must be refreshing to have someone treat him like an adult and not a 16 year old boy who lost his family. “I’m doing some classes online, I want to try and do something with myself but I’m not doing very well.”

“What do you want to do?” The Sheriff sounded genuinely interested.

“Maybe writing or some kind of editing. Without a degree though, I won’t get far.”

“I think you’d do well with that. You were always a creative kid from what I remember. Stiles told me that you like art.” Stiles’ dad looked over to him and Stiles understood the look to mean that it was off to a good start. He pressed his smile into Derek’s shoulder and let them continue. As strong as his reflex to speak for Derek was, he wanted his dad to like Derek based on what he said and not what Stiles did.

Their conversation went smoothly, Derek and his dad sharing small talk and getting more about his boyfriend into the open. Stiles was proud of him. Proud of both of them. Soon though, as they were getting more and more personal, his dad finally asked him to leave the room. “Stiles, can I talk to Derek alone?” He then turned to Derek, “Is that alright with you, son?”

Derek nodded and Stiles stood up, planning to go no further than the living room. “Just yell when you’re good. And remember, I’m always listening.” He directed that to his dad but left the room with a smile, squeezing Derek’s shoulder gently as he went. He sank into the couch and wondering what kind of things his dad was asking his boyfriend while he was gone. Stiles trusted his dad, so he trusted him enough not to embarrass anyone or scare Derek off completely. He mostly could hear the sound of his dad’s voice, unable to make out the words but it seemed like he was speaking more than Derek. Here’s to praying that it wasn’t a dad lecture. Those were the worst. He knew from experience.

It sounded like for every one or two paragraphs his dad spoke, the other was responding with a sentence or two. None of it seemed strained or tense, though, and that brought some relief. When Stiles was called back in, he didn’t find blood. Instead, his dad smiling a bit and Derek blushing but more relaxed than when they began.

His dad smacked his palm once on the table, “son, would you like to stay for dinner? I’ve got the night off and Stiles can make vegetarian lasagne.” He offered to Derek.

“If that’s alright with you, sir.”

Stiles’ dad told him to get started on the lasagne and as he set down the noodles and pesto, Stiles could see his dad grip Derek’s shoulder and say something to him that brought a small smile to his boyfriend’s face.

After dinner and Stiles filling the silence, he led the other two to the door.

“It was good to catch up with you, son. I know you’ll take care of my son. And you remember what I said, okay?” His dad pointed to reinforce that Derek needed to keep it in mind.

Nodding, his boyfriend responded. “I will, sir.” He held his hand out for a shake and Stiles and he were both surprised when Stiles’ dad pulled him in for a short hug.

“Take care of yourself.” His dad turned to leave them. “Stiles, I’m having a beer and you can’t stop me.” Before going back into the kitchen, he stopped once more. “And Stiles? You be good to that boy, you two are good for each other. You snagged a good one, kiddo.” The Sheriff left them with a final smile and nod to Derek.

Stiles couldn’t help it. He dove face-first into Derek’s henley-clad chest. “He likes you!” He squeaked, arms squeezing tight around the other’s waist. “What’d he say to you while I was gone? He was nice, right?”

Derek hugged him back and Stiles could tell he was smiling. It was a good feeling. “He…told me he was proud of me. And that he looked at your mom the same way I looked at you. He said he was glad you found someone your mom would love as much as you did.”

His smile was so big, Stiles thought he was going to break his face. His dad loved his boyfriend and he loved his boyfriend and his mom would’ve too. Stiles pushed his face harder against Derek’s shirt. “I’m so happy.” He whispered.

“Me too.”   

+1

Derek woke up before Stiles did.

Stiles had spent the night and Derek figured he’d let him sleep as long as he wanted. His sleeping patterns were shit recently, and Derek thanked God that he hadn’t had any nightmares the night before.

Laying on his side, Derek watched as Stiles mashed his face further into the pillow, mouth open. He stroked a hand down the other’s back when he made a small distressed noise, hoping to soothe him. They had been together for about four months and sleeping together for a few weeks. (It took Derek a while to convince himself he could be in a healthy and loving and reciprocating relationship with a teenager, but he came around.)

Stiles was happy and things had gotten difficult but they were in it together. That was what made it good.

Stiles pushed himself back against Derek’s chest, sighing. Derek knew he was awake now, but slid his arms around him and held him anyway.

“I didn’t mean to wake you up.” He said against Stiles’ shoulder.

His boyfriend groaned, stretching his arms in front of him, “you didn’t, don’t worry ‘bout it.” His hand slid down the arm around his waist and interlocked their fingers.

Derek liked these moments the best. When the two of them just existed together, wrapped up in each other and making the most of the other’s presence. Stiles said he loved cuddling with Derek because he was so warm and his arms were ‘super-nice and muscle-y’. But he loved holding Stiles like this because it meant that he trusted his boyfriend enough to sleep with him and watch his back at night and in the morning and because Stiles gladly reciprocated.

His boyfriend rolled over to face him with a sleepy whine. He tossed both of his legs over Derek’s hip, rubbing his hands over Derek’s beard. “Good morning, handsome,” he smiled tiredly but with bright eyes.

“Hi.” An arm found its way back around Stiles’ waist, warm hands sliding up the back of his shirt. Derek rested their foreheads together, closing his eyes when Stiles bumped their noses. “Did you sleep okay? I didn’t hear you wake up.”

“Yeah,” Stiles sighed, “it was good. Slept hard.” His voice was still scratchy from sleep and he pressed his warm, pliant lips against Derek’s. When they pulled apart, Stiles pushed him onto his back and set his head down on his chest. He’d told Derek once he loved hearing Derek’s heartbeat because it reminded him this was real. Stiles eyes closed and he let his leg rest between Derek’s.

Derek softly petted his boyfriend’s messy hair, his arm on top of the one Stiles had wrapped around his middle. “You can go back to sleep if you want. I won’t leave.” He suggested softly. He’d seen the circles under Stiles’ eyes, known that the average amount of sleep he was getting was about three hours.

“I know you won’t.” The other’s voice was slurred and he loosened more against Derek. “Thass’ why I love you.” They both flinched. Stiles was back to awake. “I mean–”

“You love me?” Stiles sat up and Derek watched him for a minute. “You love me?” He asked again, he had to be sure. He’d hoped what he’d gotten from Stiles was love, attraction, even simple affection felt more than he deserved.

Stiles shrugged, bashful. “Well, yeah I love you. You’re my boyfriend and I care about you and love you and–” Derek cut him off with a firm kiss. His heart jumped at the feeling of Stiles smiling into it. His boyfriend had to pull away due to his smile. Derek felt Stiles face tight against his chest as the other hid against him.

“I love you too.” Derek murmured.

Stiles simply crawled into his lap and hugged him tight, not moving his burning face. Derek just let him.     

Born to get together || Killa

Ella broke out a new dress. She knew that Kit had been talking about going to the stupid frat party for a while, and he always dragged her out to at least one party/social thing a month. It was easier just to go with it, she had learned after a while. He could be just as stubborn as she was when he got it in his head to be. Besides, a part of her was looking forward to seeing his reaction to her actually dressed up in something that looked nice. It was a dress, she was wearing it willingly, and it was open down to the small of her back. 

It was probably stupid, but she slipped on a pair of worn out sneakers anyway and went to the door when she heard him knock. She still hated parties definitely. And she knew that she would spend most of the night hiding in a corner and trying to avoid talking to people while Kit socialized and flirted with girls. She would get annoyed with him and they would snap at each other on the way home because she couldn’t explain why she was annoyed. It was good to be predictable sometimes. She opened up the door, a practiced bored expression on her face. “I guess you’re really going to force me to go, aren’t you?”