I did a prompt challenge called “A Picture is Worth A Thousand Words”. @i-am-thealpha (I have tried tagging that like 14 times AND IT’S NOT TAGGING) submitted this picture and whoops, I wrote 3500 words instead!
Title: Christmas Cookies and Mistle-Faux Fandom: Teen Wolf. Duh. Pairing: Sterek. See above, re: duh
The kitchen is a mess. A fucking mess. And Stiles isn’t looking forward to cleaning it. He surveys the damage and wonders if he can convince the pack to help him clean it up at the end of their Christmas party. It’ll be a bonding activity. Yeah, that’s good. A bonding activity. They’ll totally buy that.
They’ll never buy that.
Stiles still isn’t sure why he offered to host the party. They’d been sacked out around Derek’s loft the Saturday after Thanksgiving and somehow the topic of a pack Christmas party came up. Everyone had been for it—Scott was so excited talking about it, it may very well have been Christmas that day—but nobody seemed all that amped to host it. After a couple of hours of talking about food and gift exchanges (they decided on a Secret Santa, as opposed to a White Elephant Gift Exchange), nobody had yet to take on the mantle of host. Derek reluctantly began to volunteer just before Stiles heard the words “I’ll do it” pop out of his mouth with such force it surprised even himself. Thank God everyone else offered to bring the actual food, because if Stiles had to host and cook dinner, he couldn’t have guaranteed not to season everything with wolfsbane.
He’d pulled Derek’s name in the Secret Santa drawing and had inwardly groaned, wondering how he was going to suss out gift ideas from Derek, who had everything and wanted nothing except maybe some peace and quiet. But fortune took a pity on Stiles that day. Derek had had one of his rare moments of unabashed nostalgia and talked about the Christmas cookies his mother used to make: nothing more than simple sugar cookies cut out in Christmas shapes and glazed with powdered sugar frosting.
Stiles had shoved down his feelings for Derek long ago, knowing that nothing would ever come of them. Still, every now and then something like this would happen, and the rush of emotion Stiles felt for Derek–as a friend, as someone he crushed on–would overcome Stiles. Listening to Derek talking about how he and his mother would spend an entire day making trays and trays of these cookies, decorating them to perfection, had made Stiles chest swell unexpectedly. He’d instantly decided to make those cookies for Derek.