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Title: a little fox [ficlet]
Fandom: Teen Wolf
Prompt: 492 - curd
Warnings: Derek/Stiles. Mpreg. Holiday-ish domestic fluff.
Rating: PG
Word Count: ~690
Summary: Derek shakes his head and smiles when he sees five text messages with a good fifteen or so extra things Stiles managed to think of.
Disclaimer: It’s all lies and I own nothing.
-- = --
Derek's still at the station when his phone starts vibrating on his desk, Stiles' smiling face lighting up the screen. He glances at the clock on the wall as he reaches for his phone. “Hi.”
“Hey, babe,” Stiles says. “Are you still at work?”
“Yeah. But I’ll be leaving soon.”
“Can you stop at the store and pick up some cottage cheese and peaches?”
Derek makes a face—Stiles has been having the weirdest cravings lately. “Sure. Do you need anything else?”
“Strawberries, pineapple. Those granola bits. Oh! And orange juice—pulp-free. Frozen yogurt, maybe? Chocolate chunk cookies.”
Hastily scrawling the list on the edge of his desk blotter, Derek grins. “Okay. Text me if you think of something else.”
“Will do. See you soon.”
“Love you.”
“I love you, too.”
It’s almost five thirty. But, it’s also Christmas Eve and Derek thinks their local grocery store closed early. He’s pretty sure Target is supposed to be open until at least six. If that’s the case, he’s going to be cutting it close. He quickly shuts down his computer and pulls on his jacket as he gets up from his desk. He pokes his head into the sheriff’s office before he leaves, knocking gently on the door. John looks up from the papers on his desk. “Derek, hi. What can I do for you?”
“I just wanted to let you know I’m heading out. I’ve got to stop at the store before everything closes.”
John nods. “I think I’ll be on my way out soon, myself.”
“We’ll see you tomorrow?”
“Yes. Four o’clock?”
“Yeah. Stiles plans to eat around five, but I’m guessing it’ll be closer to six. And knowing Scott, he’s probably going to be running late, so it should work out all around.”
Laughing, John leans back in his chair. “You’re not wrong.”
Derek smiles and claps the door frame. “Have a good night, sir.”
“You, too, son.”
With a nod goodbye, Derek heads out. By the time he gets to Target, it’s already quarter till. The parking lot is fairly full yet, which is promising. The holiday hours posted on automatic door state that they’re open until eight. He grabs a cart and pulls his phone out of his pocket to see what kind of list he’s got from Stiles. Derek shakes his head and smiles when he sees five text messages with a good fifteen or so extra things Stiles managed to think of.
Derek tries to make his way through the store as quickly as possible, attempting to avoid all of the last-minute Christmas shoppers, and get only what’s on his compiled list. He deviates from that plan when he spots an abandoned felted fox donning a red and green striped hat and a green scarf next to the granola. It’s impossible to pass up and he knows Stiles will think it’s cute, so he adds it to his cart.
Derek’s in and out and on the road in a little over half an hour, and manages to make it home around six thirty. He finds Stiles in the kitchen pulling a foil-covered dish out of the oven.
“Just in time,” Stiles says, setting the dish on their large cast iron trivet on the counter. He takes off his oven mitts and closes the stove before moving to help Derek put away the groceries.
As he’s putting the frozen yogurt in the freezer, Derek pulls the fox out of the bag. “I got you something,” he says, stepping in close so his chest is to Stiles’ back, slipping his arm around Stiles so he can rest his palm on the slight swell of Stiles’ belly. “Both of you.” He brandishes the little felted, plush toy.
Stiles’ hand covers his as he takes the fox, turning his head to kiss Derek over his shoulder. “It’s adorable.”
Derek presses his nose and his smile into Stiles’ neck. “You’re adorable.”
Stiles shifts in his arms so they’re face to face. “So’re you, Sourwolf. I love you.”
“I love you, too. Merry Christmas.”
Stiles grins, slinging his arms around Derek’s neck. “Merry Christmas.”
Fandom: Teen Wolf
Prompt: 492 - curd
Warnings: Derek/Stiles. Mpreg. Holiday-ish domestic fluff.
Rating: PG
Word Count: ~690
Summary: Derek shakes his head and smiles when he sees five text messages with a good fifteen or so extra things Stiles managed to think of.
Disclaimer: It’s all lies and I own nothing.
Derek's still at the station when his phone starts vibrating on his desk, Stiles' smiling face lighting up the screen. He glances at the clock on the wall as he reaches for his phone. “Hi.”
“Hey, babe,” Stiles says. “Are you still at work?”
“Yeah. But I’ll be leaving soon.”
“Can you stop at the store and pick up some cottage cheese and peaches?”
Derek makes a face—Stiles has been having the weirdest cravings lately. “Sure. Do you need anything else?”
“Strawberries, pineapple. Those granola bits. Oh! And orange juice—pulp-free. Frozen yogurt, maybe? Chocolate chunk cookies.”
Hastily scrawling the list on the edge of his desk blotter, Derek grins. “Okay. Text me if you think of something else.”
“Will do. See you soon.”
“Love you.”
“I love you, too.”
It’s almost five thirty. But, it’s also Christmas Eve and Derek thinks their local grocery store closed early. He’s pretty sure Target is supposed to be open until at least six. If that’s the case, he’s going to be cutting it close. He quickly shuts down his computer and pulls on his jacket as he gets up from his desk. He pokes his head into the sheriff’s office before he leaves, knocking gently on the door. John looks up from the papers on his desk. “Derek, hi. What can I do for you?”
“I just wanted to let you know I’m heading out. I’ve got to stop at the store before everything closes.”
John nods. “I think I’ll be on my way out soon, myself.”
“We’ll see you tomorrow?”
“Yes. Four o’clock?”
“Yeah. Stiles plans to eat around five, but I’m guessing it’ll be closer to six. And knowing Scott, he’s probably going to be running late, so it should work out all around.”
Laughing, John leans back in his chair. “You’re not wrong.”
Derek smiles and claps the door frame. “Have a good night, sir.”
“You, too, son.”
With a nod goodbye, Derek heads out. By the time he gets to Target, it’s already quarter till. The parking lot is fairly full yet, which is promising. The holiday hours posted on automatic door state that they’re open until eight. He grabs a cart and pulls his phone out of his pocket to see what kind of list he’s got from Stiles. Derek shakes his head and smiles when he sees five text messages with a good fifteen or so extra things Stiles managed to think of.
Derek tries to make his way through the store as quickly as possible, attempting to avoid all of the last-minute Christmas shoppers, and get only what’s on his compiled list. He deviates from that plan when he spots an abandoned felted fox donning a red and green striped hat and a green scarf next to the granola. It’s impossible to pass up and he knows Stiles will think it’s cute, so he adds it to his cart.
Derek’s in and out and on the road in a little over half an hour, and manages to make it home around six thirty. He finds Stiles in the kitchen pulling a foil-covered dish out of the oven.
“Just in time,” Stiles says, setting the dish on their large cast iron trivet on the counter. He takes off his oven mitts and closes the stove before moving to help Derek put away the groceries.
As he’s putting the frozen yogurt in the freezer, Derek pulls the fox out of the bag. “I got you something,” he says, stepping in close so his chest is to Stiles’ back, slipping his arm around Stiles so he can rest his palm on the slight swell of Stiles’ belly. “Both of you.” He brandishes the little felted, plush toy.
Stiles’ hand covers his as he takes the fox, turning his head to kiss Derek over his shoulder. “It’s adorable.”
Derek presses his nose and his smile into Stiles’ neck. “You’re adorable.”
Stiles shifts in his arms so they’re face to face. “So’re you, Sourwolf. I love you.”
“I love you, too. Merry Christmas.”
Stiles grins, slinging his arms around Derek’s neck. “Merry Christmas.”