A/N: A little look into pack dynamics. And some Scott/Jackson! :D
Disclaimer: Derek and Stiles sadly do not belong to me. Nor does Teen Wolf. Weh.
Warnings: Not canon-complacent, angst, humor, crossdressing, fabulous drag queen OCs, pining, courting, mating, D/s, knotting, rimming, licking, cum eating, animalistic/feral/possessive behaviors, PackMom!Stiles, PackDaddy!Derek, puppy piles, affectionate poly!pack, threesomes, moresomes, pet names, Daddy kink, Twilight references, potential OOC
A month passes and suddenly Christmas is almost here.
The tree is up in the corner of the living room, a huge pine tree the pack had chosen and chopped down from within the expansive acres of Hale property, lit up and decorated with ornaments contributed from all pack members, some old like the ones from the Stilinskis' attic that had otherwise been untouched before now as well as the star that Derek had found in one of the Hales' storage units, and some new ones from the trip Lydia had demanded they all join her in so they all could pick something for the tree. A mix of the past and the present.
Lydia went all out on the decorating, tinsel and no-flame candles and mistletoe artfully placed everywhere inside the house. (Of course she'd roped the boys in to do her dirty work for the outside decorations, overseeing the placement of each light and wreath until it was to her precise specifications.)
Duchess the puma got a Santa hat, and hand knit stockings hung from the mantle of the fireplace with all their names stitched on them, courtesy of Stiles's hidden talent. (He knits when he gets anxious, okay? Kind of like how he bakes when he's stressed. His babunia had taught him how to knit years ago, and it's something to do with his hands so he doesn't over-think things so much as he is wont to do. Knitting requires constant focus so it's done wonders for his ADHD, and not to toot his own horn but he's pretty good at it too. ...Toot toot!)
Currently, Stiles is in the kitchen of the Hale house with his sleeves rolled to his elbows and an apron tied around his front like a shield, whistling a little tune at the counter as he's chopping up vegetables for dinner. Tonight on the menu: steaks made from the last of the deer that his dad has not-so-subtly been buttering him up to cook with trips the range to play with the big toys.
He smiles as he recalls how his dad tried to be sneaky about what he really wanted. Father-son bonding time, his very fine ass (if he does say so himself. Derek concurs).
At least he got some good pointers from Chris and the three ended up having a pretty good time together shooting targets. His father thinks he's won, but Stiles can be sneaky too and is determined to make this meal with as many healthy alternatives as possible but still make it flavorful and delicious and to die for.
He goes to check on the cake baking in the oven when suddenly there's a familiar weight on his back. A nose snuffles its way to the crook of his neck and investigates the permanent bite mark his Alpha had marked him with that night of the Chase after he was eventually caught (and woo, he'd been caught all right, but that is a story for another time), before a tongue flicks out and licks at it briefly.
He shivers a little and hums, reaching a hand back to pet the perpetrator's soft silky hair, "Hey, babe. What's up?"
"McCall is being an asshole," Jackson grunts, hands holding his hips in place as he continues to nose at Stiles from behind.
"I am not!" is Scott's reply as the beta comes stomping into the kitchen.
Uh oh, Scott's acting up again. He has been more frequently as of late and it almost always has something to do with Jackson.
Stiles knows that the two co-captains were never really buddy-buddy with each other before, but they're pack now. He'd thought that things would change eventually. Apparently they haven't yet.
Stiles turns around and gathers Jackson into his arms, the omega tucking his head under Stiles's chin where he likes it best. "Whoa now. What's this all about?"
Jackson snakes his arms around his waist and snuggles close, huffing in agitation, "I wanted the remote because it was my turn to pick and McCall wouldn't give it to me. He said Allison wanted to watch 'Say Yes to the Dress' with Lydia even though I've been waiting all day to see the football game."
Stiles levels Scott a look and his best friend sputters.
"He does it to me all the time!"
"Only because you take too long and can't decide on what to watch! It pisses everyone off, and I'm not the only one who does it. It's not like you care anyways, unless it's something on Animal Planet and we never change the channel then," Jackson sneers but Stiles could tell he's really upset about this. He absently runs his hand up and down Jackson's back in calming strokes and kisses the corner of his mouth.
Jackson touches their noses together and he gives the omega a reassuring smile. (Isaac is everyone's favorite but for Stiles, Jackson comes pretty damn close. Except Derek. Derek's favorite is Boyd.)
Then Stiles raises his eyebrows at Scott, who has his fists clenched at his sides, "He has a point, buddy. For some - quite frankly stupid - reason, I remember you tried to pull this at Thanksgiving, too. Good thing you didn't succeed or there would have been bloodshed; yours specifically. Dad would've given you The Look – you know he would've - and Crystal would've tried to stab your eye out with her stiletto. I can tell you right now no one would've lifted a finger to stop her if you somehow managed to wrestle the remote away from Sugar Mama's iron grip."
He misses the ladies, who had all packed up for their annual end-of-year trip to Europe after they came to the house for Thanksgiving. Jungle just isn't the same without them, though there are going to be lots of souvenirs in his future according to Amber.
The beta stubbornly crosses his arms.
Stiles sighs. "Look, man. I don't know what your problem is but I'm going to have to go with Jax on this one. He's been waiting to see this game - you know he has because he kept talking about it all day - so you're acting pretty douchey right now not letting him watch and I don't know why."
Scott puffs up aggressively and suddenly explodes out of nowhere, "What the hell, Stiles! Why are you siding with him? This is Jackson, remember? The one who picked on us throughout the school year, every year? The one who bullied us in lacrosse? He was even the kanima at one point," he sneers, "Just because he's the pack bitch he gets special treatment now?"
Stiles freezes, eyes wide, and gapes in shock as he feels Jackson go stiff as a board in his arms. "Oh, no you did not just - Scott Matthew McCall!" he screams at the beta. "What the hell does that even have to do with anything?!"
Immediately after the words leave his mouth, Scott instantly cows and looks extremely guilty. "Uh...I-"
He cuts himself off when Jackson slowly pulls away from Stiles protective embrace then, the blond's movements rigid and he doesn't meet anyone's eye. "I'm going for a run," he grits out between clenched jaws.
"Okay," Stiles says dumbly after a couple of tense seconds, "uh, don't be gone too long. If you see Derek, tell him dinner will be done in a hour, okay?" He cups the side of Jackson's face and watches worriedly as the blond gives him a curt nod before stalking towards the sliding door leading to the back yard.
"H-Hey, wait!" Scott scrambles after him, grabbing his arm, "Jackson, I-"
Jackson whirls around, blue eyes lit up and cold with fury, "Don't touch me!" he seethes venomously and yanks his arm back, hissing and spitting until Scott is startled into letting go. The omega takes off running, already shifted in his haste to get away.
There's a moment of silence before Stiles marches right up to him and smacks him upside the head. Scott cowers with a whine. "I cannot believe you actually said that! Words cannot describe how much disbelief I am in right now!" Stiles exclaims furiously. "Oh my god, I'm so severely disappointed in you, Scott. Throwing his insecurities in his face like that. Out of everyone, you are the last person I'd ever think to deal such a low blow. You know how sensitive he is about his time as a giant lizard, you dickwad. Just-what the hell is wrong with you." He throws his hands up. "You know what, don't bother answering that. Go back into the living room, now. I don't have time to deal with your grossly offensive behavior; I have dinner to finish."
He jabs a finger at the entryway and Scott goes morosely, tail tucked in between his legs.
Stiles huffs out a frustrated breath and returns to the vegetables after checking on dessert, his good mood officially ruined.
Out in the living room, Lydia sends Scott a poisonous glare and smacks him in the face with the remote while the other guys just shake their heads at him.
Allison sighs sadly, "Oh, Scott. It wasn't even that big a deal. It was a rerun anyway, and even if it wasn't, that was completely uncalled for." She turns and stares unseeingly at the TV. "We should have just let Jackson watch his game. Poor Jackson."
Scott whimpers pathetically and curls into himself. He's really screwed up this time.
Lesson learned: jealousy over Stiles will get you nowhere.
By the time Stiles is finished with dinner, his father and his two lovers arrive at the door while the betas set the table, and Jackson returns to the house with Derek in tow. The Alpha has his big, warm hand on the back of the blond's neck, helping to anchor him as the two slip into the kitchen from their respective runs.
Stiles breathes a sigh of relief and hurries over, cupping the omega's face in his hands. His mate hooks an arm around both their waists and a soothing rumble starts up in his chest.
Honey amber eyes scan Jackson from head to toe and seem satisfied when no injuries turn up.
"Glad you're back safe and sound," he murmurs and kisses Jackson's forehead. "Dinner's ready. Why don't you go freshen up, hm?"
Jackson nods, rubs his cheek against Stiles's in thanks before sauntering off to do just that.
Stiles sighs and leans into Derek's bulk.
"They'll be fine," the Alpha soothes, kissing his temple.
Stiles looks up into those beautiful hazel eyes of his mate and nuzzles his jaw. "I hope so."
Dinner is an awkward affair, conversation stilted. Even John, Chris and Peter could tell something went down while they were out.
From his seat between Allison and Isaac, Scott is staring longingly at Jackson from across the table, plate hardly touched which is extremely unusual for the beta since it's Stiles's cooking and Scott loves the food Stiles makes more than anything, second only to Allison and his mom and his pack.
The omega completely ignores him, slicing into his steak and popping the morsel into his mouth along with a scoop of creamy mashed potatoes.
To his right, Allison elbows Scott to eat while Danny and Lydia shoot looks over Jackson's head. Beside his daughter, Chris raises his eyebrows at Peter across the table in front of him who is next to the redhead, getting a shrug in reply.
The Sheriff watches everyone else at the end of the table between his two partners as he eats.
At the head of the table on the other end sits Derek, calmly demolishing the mountain of food Stiles had piled onto his plate. His son sits to the Alpha's left as his mate and to Derek's right is Boyd as his second in command. John watches as Boyd passes the salad to Isaac sitting next to him and Erica smirking at something Stiles is regaling her with, their heads leaned in close together.
Second, third and fourth helpings are had and then dessert comes and goes in a similar manner, a delicious Oreo chocolate cake that turned out perfectly, smothered with mildly sweet frosting and low-fat vanilla ice cream churned by Stiles's hand on the side. The Sheriff frowns sadly at the miniscule piece in front of him but savors the morsel since his son had forbidden Chris and Peter from giving him any of theirs, and had told them not to bother sneaking him any because he'd know - he somehow always does - and that they'd pay dearly if they do. Needless to say, Chris and Peter quickly finish off their cake and ice cream.
Soon the pack is groaning and rubbing their fully bellies, lavishing compliments to the chef that make Stiles beam and brings a pleased flush to his cheeks.
He still makes them all help clean up though, stacking their used plates and utensils as well as the serving dishes on the counter next to the sink.
Isaac is sent to the basement to put the soiled table cloth with the rest of the laundry and start a load of whites as the Alpha himself is roped into dish washing duty since it's his turn while Stiles dries.
As for the rest of the pack, they shuffle into the living room to veg out in front of the large plasma TV while their food digests.
Except for Scott, who is still in the dining room and has somehow managed to convince a reluctant Jackson into staying behind and listen to what he has to say.
Stiles nudges Derek with his hip and tosses his head in their direction, raising his eyebrows inquisitively.
Derek cocks his head to listen in, which brings a smile to Stiles's face. He couldn't help it, Derek really does look like a pup when he does that. Derek gives him a look like he knows exactly what he's thinking as he shakes with silent laughter before the Alpha resumes his eavesdropping.
Stiles turns and watches the two from the corner of his eye.
Scott appears embarrassed and sad and guilty as he speaks in a low voice that Stiles couldn't hear, a sheepish hand on the back of his neck as Jackson has his arms crossed in front on him defensively, his handsome face giving nothing away.
Slowly though, oh so slowly, Stiles notices the ice melting a little around the omega's demeanor the longer Scott talks, his pretty blue eyes losing their tension and his mouth softening from the grim line it'd settled into.
The blond looks away as he says something in response and Scott takes a hesitant step closer, a hopeful look on his face.
Scott slowly reaches up and gently grips Jackson's biceps, brown eyes searching his face for something that he apparently finds because he suddenly breaks into a smile.
Jackson looks up through his lashes and doesn't object when Scott leans in for a nuzzle which smoothly turns into a soft tentative kiss a moment later, the beta's hands sliding down his back to hold his hips as their eyes flutter shut.
He hums and opens his mouth, uncrossing his arms to rest his hands on Scott shoulders as their lips kiss and suck at each other gently.
Eventually they pull apart with a breathy sigh and Scott noses his face, a goofy grin curling his mouth. Jackson rolls his eyes but allows the beta to tug him into the living room to join the rest of the pack.
Stiles turns to Derek and the Alpha gives him a small smile. "Told you they'd be fine."
He leans in for a kiss of his own, "So you did."
They finish the dishes together in peace.
The Alpha pair find the pups on the huge, super-soft and squishy floor cushion, custom-made with the finest materials money can buy for impromptu puppy piles for times such as this.
Jackson's in the middle, squished in between Boyd and Scott, Isaac and Danny tangled together in his legs as Erica wriggles herself into a more comfortable position between Boyd and his right side, her head resting on his abs. Lydia and Allison are spooned together above his head, their hands occasionally coming down to run through his hair.
Peter, Chris and John meanwhile are lounging on one of the large couches surrounding the massive cuddle cushion, the three oldest members of the pack lying close together with arms thrown across each others' bodies like octopi.
Stiles fights down a snort and smiles when he sees his dad blinking sleepily in Peter's arms as he rests on Chris's chest, the hunter absently petting his arm.
Then Stiles is being tugged over to the pile by Derek, the Alpha nudging pups out of the way to make room for the two of them. The pups whine and grumble at being jostled but move accordingly to accommodate the pair before they all settle in again.
Once he's comfortable, Stiles notices what's playing on the TV and blinks.
"Football?"
"The magic of TiVo," comes Lydia's flippant reply above his head before she's being shushed by Isaac. She reaches out and boops him on the nose but quiets down so the boys could enjoy their game.
Tucked up against Derek's side, Jackson looks across his Alphas' bodies to sees Scott looking back at him from under Stiles's chin, apparently forgiven by his best friend.
The other boy sends him a soft smile which he slowly returns before sliding an arm around Derek. Scott does the same around Stiles's middle and they hold hands on top of Derek's abs.
Jackson takes a deep breath, inhaling the scent of pack and home and safe and knowing he's where he wants to be, where he needs to be; where he belongs.
It's a feeling he's been searching for for a long time and now that he's finally found it, he intends to hold on tight and keep it.
He turns his head back to watch his game, content.
It's getting late and soon they all start to nod off one by one.
Peter and his mates retire to their room after the game and Derek takes that as his cue to start ushering his pups to bed as well.
"C'mon, guys. Mommy and Daddy want some 'alone time'," Erica leers suggestively with a sleepy wink, cackling at Stiles's flustered face and Derek's half-hearted glare, dragging a stumbling Boyd and Isaac with her up the stairs.
Scott and Jackson are next, the two holding hands as Scott leads the blond to his room he usually shares with Allison. Said archer sees them off with a wink and a wave before she, Danny and Lydia decide to stay up a little while longer.
With that, the Alpha pair bid them goodnight – Stiles giggling at the flush on Danny's face when Derek reels him in with an arm around his waist and presses a kiss to the corner of his mouth, the tease – before shuffling off to the Master bedroom.
Days later Stiles's hyperactive brain wouldn't let him stop thinking about Erica's playful jab.
He knows he's the 'mom' of the pack, sort of speak. C'mon, he keeps the pack fed and happy, makes sure they get along with each other and even cleans up after them for crying out loud. That isn't to say he doesn't know how to keep them all in line either or get them to pull their own weight with assigned chores, like his namesake always know how to do.
So naturally if he's Pack Mom then that makes Derek Pack Dad, doesn't it?
The first time it happens, it just sort of slips out. Of course it does, because he is Stiles and with the amount of time he's spent obsessing over it, it was only a matter of time before his brain-to-mouth filter fails him yet again.
They're in bed, Stiles openly moaning as he arches up and clutches at the sheets next to his head while Derek worships his body at his own leisure with lips and fingers and that wicked tongue of his.
The pups are all out today buying last minute presents and won't be back 'til late so they have the house to themselves. What better way to spend it than on his back with his Alpha between his thighs?
Stiles is not ashamed of how easy he is for Derek, not one bit. When the wolf had slowly backed him up - not unlike the sexy predator he is, stalking his prey - to splay him out on their bed like an all-you-can-eat buffet, it made him feel powerful to know that just by biting his lip and spreading his legs, he could bring a strong Alpha male like Derek to his knees, like he is now.
But after being teased for hours, Stiles is desperate, whimpering and pulling at Derek's hair. He wants more.
The wolf chuckles, causing Stiles to buck his hips up, and with one final suck he pulls off of Stiles's dick, pressing a kiss to the shiny red mushroom head before blowing on it gently.
Stiles whines and makes grabby hands for Derek, pulling the wolf up onto the bed from the floor and bringing his face down for a sloppy open-mouthed kiss.
Derek growls, red eyes glowing softly, and nips at Stiles's bottom lip. "Greedy pup."
Stiles merely purrs and nuzzles his stubbly chin, submissive and horny for his Alpha.
The wolf smirks and takes a hold of the plug that's shoved up inside Stiles as a placeholder, gently pulling it out and getting a little shiver in response. A trickle of lube escapes down Stiles's cleft and he rumbles deeply at the sight of Stiles's entrance grasping at the air for something to fill it before he's shifting them further onto the bed and pushing into Stiles's eager hole, nice and loose and slick from their earlier play.
Derek wastes no time and starts pounding his mate into the mattress. Stiles isn't the only one close to his limit.
"Uh, uhn," Stiles mewls and clings desperately onto Derek as his Alpha fucks deep into his ass with relentless power, the boy unable to do anything but hold on for the ride.
He keens high and needy as Derek drives into him, wanting so much to cum and not thinking about anything else, much less what comes out of his mouth next.
"Daddy."
As soon as the word leaves his lips though, his eyes go wide with horror and Derek immediately stills above him. The older man slowly lifts his head from his spot against Stiles's neck to stare down at him, confirming his fears.
"What did you just call me?"
Stiles's face goes bright red, utterly mortified.
"N-...Nothing! Nothing at all - I didn't say anything." He shakes his head vehemently in denial as he starts to panic on the inside. "Ohmygod, no. Nope. Nada." Oh my god, did he actually say that out loud?! Really?!
Derek doesn't relent.
"Stiles." The wolf's eyes flash red and Stiles whines at him pathetically, not able to deny the authority in his Alpha mate's voice, not like this.
He bites his lip and looks away shamefaced, "I...I called you Daddy," he repeats in a barely audible mumble, face burning with humiliation, "I-Is that too kinky...?"
A throaty growl is all the warning he gets before Derek abruptly pulls out, almost all the way until only the tip remains, and then yanks his thin hips forward.
A scream forces its way out of his chest as Derek rams his prostate with brutal accuracy, leaving him shaking violently and clutching at Derek's biceps.
"Say it again," the older man rumbles low, leaning down to lick at Stiles's open mouth.
"D-Daddy," he moans for his Alpha, sweet and pretty.
Derek pulls out and thrusts back in with a snap of his hips, resulting in a sharp whimper. "Again."
"Ah, a-ah-! Daddy."
Fuck, that's so fucking hot. Derek's growls turns feral as he roughly fucks his mate into submission.
"Again!"
"Oh god! Ugh! Daddy!" Stiles gives it up to him and cries for more, nails scratching long red lines down Derek's back that quickly disappear as soon as they come, "Please, please - fuck me!"
"Yeah," Derek grunts and tongue fucks Stiles's mouth as he savagely ruts into his mate, "Fuck you, gonna fuck you stupid. Fill you up, keep you full. Keep you here with me." Snarling softly, he ratchets up his speed, "Spend my days making you happy, and my nights putting you to bed with a belly full of cum. Have you wear my ring and my collar, never let you go." He groans as Stiles keens and clamps down on him, "You like that, don't you baby? You like the idea of belonging to me?"
"Yes, yes." He wants to cum so bad. "Daddy, please."
"Not yet," Derek rumbles darkly, "I'm not done with you yet."
He rears up and throws Stiles's legs over his shoulders, spread wide by the Alpha's large hands under his knees.
Stiles lets out a thin reedy sound, now almost bent in half as his Alpha fucks down into his red puffy hole. He's mesmerized by the look on Derek's face, those impressive brows pulled into a deep 'v' of utter concentration as sweat drips down the Alpha's face.
God, he's so beautiful.
"Gonna take care of you. Always take such good care of you, Stiles – Fuck."
"Mmh. Yes." Stiles squirms and reaches up for his face, parting his mouth for kiss.
Derek growls and gives him what he wants.
Stiles always gets what he wants; whatever Derek has, whatever that is in his power to have, to obtain, he'll give it to him. His den, his pack, his name; his life and heart and soul. Everything. And Stiles knows it, and treasures it and will never, ever abuse it, for he will take it, take everything that is Derek, and give back every inch of what he is – human, spark, mate – as well as what he's capable of, a hundred times over.
"Unh – Daddy. Daddy, I'm so empty," he whimpers, clenching down on Derek when he tries to pull out for another thrust in, and earns himself a groan from deep within the Alpha's chest, "Knot me, knot me, please. Want it so bad. Want you to breed me, Alpha. Please!"
"Fuck, baby, the things you do to me," Derek moans, deep and throaty, before he's rolling onto his back with his mate perched on top of him, holding him steady by the hips as the boy reorients himself from the sudden change in scenery. Red eyes flare up brilliantly. "Show me how much you want it."
Balancing himself up with his hands on Derek's solid chest, Stiles bites his bottom lip and goes for broke, riding that huge, fat cock inside him like his life depended on it.
"Unh! Unh! Unh! Unh!" It won't be much longer now; he's falling apart at the seams, just needing that extra push over the edge.
With a powerful thrust of his hips Derek gives it to him, making him cum spectacularly all over the wolf's chest in huge white splatters.
Derek purrs like he's pleased that he's covered in Stiles's cum, the kinky beast, and lunges up one more time, his bulging knot catching the rim of Stiles's pucker before slipping in and locking them in place.
Stiles screams when the knot presses into his prostate, trembling in the aftermath of his orgasm as Derek swivels his hips up against his sensitive passage and cums deep inside his ass.
He mewls when Derek presses a finger to his stuffed hole, fucked raw and open, and finally collapses against Derek's chest, not caring about the sticky mess between them.
Before he passes out he hears Derek whisper a tender 'I love you', and smiles.
By the time they stumble down the stairs for some food, damp from round n in the shower 'cause Derek just couldn't keep his hands to himself, the rest of the pack have returned to the house.
Boyd starts the slow clap and the rest of the pups quickly follow suit, Erica bringing her fingers up and wolf-whistles as Danny howls softly in the background. Isaac is smirking while Jackson stares at his Alphas with a hungry intensity, blue eyes glowing softly.
The pack laughs when Stiles flushes and Derek's ears go bright red, the two belatedly remembering that the bathroom isn't soundproof.
"Somebody's been busy all day," Peter remarks with a delicate sniff, smirking with an eyebrow wiggle. "Nice shirt, Stiles."
"Uncle," Derek glares at him as Stiles groans and mutters something about 'creeper Peter'.
Peter smiles innocently and returns with an indulgent "Nephew."
Stiles hugs the soft worn henley he's wearing protectively to his chest, which is a size too big and just so happens to belong to Derek (a fact that has Derek's wolf howling and rolling around happily inside his psyche), and sticks his tongue out at the room before stomping into the kitchen with a huff to whip up some snacks.
Sometimes his packs sucks, therefore no snacks for them.
Jackson and Isaac jump up and hurry after him, wanting to help so Stiles doesn't stay mad at them and maybe persuade their pack mom to make them something too. Danny smiles and stands, grabbing Derek's hand to tug his Alpha along as well and trail after them.
(Of course, Stiles caves against the combined power of Jackson's cuddles, Isaac's puppy eyes and Danny's dimples, so the three end getting their snacks. Evil little buggers.)
"Now, Peter," Chris chides with a smirk, "Leave the boys alone."
"Yeah, considering last night, you were so-" John starts up under his breath, before cutting himself off when he remembers he's in the company of werewolves with super hearing, and looks up from his papers to see the remaining pups staring at him, Erica and Lydia, who is seated close by, looking particularly interested. Scott looks puzzled, then after a beat looks absolutely horrified.
Peter chuckles at his mate's faux pas and Chris hides his grin behind his mug.
Erica whistles again."Damn. Looks like Papa Stilinski's got game," she says with a laugh, wiggling her eyebrows at the Sheriff.
"Erica, language," John weakly admonishes. Erica just winks at him. The Sheriff is her favorite after all.
Lydia lets out a dainty scoff, "Of course he does, just look at him. He landed Papa Argent, no?"
"Lydia!" Allison blushes and hides her face in Scott's shoulder, whose gone pale and a little green. C'mon, this is her father that her friends are talking about. Really, girls? Really?
"Hey!" Peter pouts, "What about me?"
Lydia raises a brow, "What about you?"
"Ah, so cruel, my dear," Peter languishes back with a whine, a hand to his heart.
John coughs and rustles his papers in an attempt to hide how flustered he is as Chris lets out a deep laugh.
Kids these days. Shameless, the lot of them.
When Christmas Eve finally arrives, and the pups are all scattered on the floor tearing into their presents when the clock strikes midnight, Stiles opens the one he gets from Derek.
It's a collar, simply beautiful in black and made from a soft buttery leather with a round pendant of platinum attached on a ring right in the center, stamped with the symbol of the triskelion.
Big brown eyes look up into feral red full of love and possession, and he tackles his Alpha in his enthusiasm. They go down in a tangle of limbs as Stiles smooches his mate within an inch of his life, peppering kisses all over his stupidly gorgeous face.
Words fail him so he takes a page out of Derek's book and shows him just how much it means to him through action. He loves his wolf so much.
Just as they part softly with a smile, Stiles's a little watery as Derek nuzzles his face with such tender care, the doorbell rings and the ladies let themselves in with the house key Stiles had given them before their trip, like they had gifted him with.
"Guess whose back early!" announces Sugar Mama with a flourish and the pack cheers and welcomes them home with wide open arms.
Best Christmas ever.