39 for the 150 promptsssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss
Well here ya go nonnie! This is the cutest shit I have ever written and now I wanna continue the Piper universe! Damn you!
Here is prompt #39: “I forgot I was a single parent.”
One would think after being a father for five years Stiles Stilinski would finally be a morning person; however, that is obviously not going to happen. He is sprawled in his bed, head half buried by pillows, one sock clad foot sticking out of the blanket. There is sunlight coming from his windows but he is doing the best he can to ignore it.
He is almost asleep again when he hears his door creak open.
It’s taken him eight months of those five years to get used to this kind of wakeup call.
There is a muffled high pitched giggle and it’s immediately shushed by a much deeper voice.
Stiles gets no warning when forty pounds is being dropped on him, and he nearly gets the wind knocked out of him as little limbs crawl all over him before they settle at his side. He lifts and turns his head only to be greeted by a mass of dark curly hair.
“I don’t know kiddo, sleeping sounds pretty good right now,” Stiles yawns, resting his head on his arm while still looking in his daughter’s direction.
Piper sputters, legs flailing, “but Derek said we can only have pancakes if you get up.”
“Oh did he now?” Stiles asks, looking up to see Derek smirking with a slight flush across his cheeks.
“I may have suggested that,” Derek says, holding out a mug which Stiles knows is his coffee with lots of cream and lots of sugar.
“Please Daddy! I really want pancakes,” Piper begs as she moves to sit on her knees.
Stiles can’t help but smile at how adorable she looks in her sleep rumpled Moana pajamas. He makes adorable babies, the five year old in front of him is proof. He relents and sits up, taking his coffee with one hand while the other opens a space for Piper to curl up in. The child happily snuggles up to him, hiding her face in his shirt.
The coffee ends up being perfect, and Derek rolls his eyes when Stiles praises him about it insisting it is no big deal before going to the kitchen. It leaves a few minutes for Stiles to have alone with Piper, both of them more invested in a good morning snuggle than actual conversation. Eventually he manages to get out of bed, following his energetic daughter out of the room.
The thick scent of bacon wafts from the oven and the tart smell of cut up fruit also permeates the air. With the apartment not being super huge it doesn’t take much for it to start getting smoky inside. Stiles moves to the nearby window to open it like he usually does when cooking, but notices it’s already opened.
Derek is apparently one step ahead of him.
“You wanna help Derek mix the batter?” Stiles asks.
“Yes!” Piper says, balancing on her tiptoes to see, her body pressed up against Derek’s leg.
Stiles laughs and sets his coffee down before lifting Piper up so she’s sitting on the counter.
“Can you get the frozen blueberries?” Derek asks.
Stiles ducks down and grabs the frozen berries from the freezer, handing them over before setting to work on eggs. He likes them scrambled with heaps of cheese in it, Piper and Derek both prefer fried eggs; however, Derek hates runny yolks.
It amazes him how after years of only keeping in touch via occasional text he and Derek can just come back to this level of familiarity so easily. Of course boundaries aren’t really a thing when one has children, especially one who inherited the lack of a brain-to-mouth-filter and reiterates the smallest of details at the most inappropriate time.
“Can I have more berries in my pancakes?” Piper asks, fingers stained purplish blue from the berries.
Derek snorts, “I don’t know Pipes—”
“I promise I’ll brush my teeth extra good after!”
Piper nods and loops her stained pinky with Derek’s, vowing to keep that promise.
“Jeez, melt my heart much you two?” Stiles asks, his cheeks feeling hot all of a sudden.
The timer goes off after a moment, and Stiles pauses his work on the eggs to grab the bacon out of the oven so it can cool. He grabs paper towels, setting the strips of pork on top to get the excess grease off.
“Oh, hey Derek,” Stiles says, his brain finally back online, “on the 26th I have a double shift I can’t get out of because Kimberly is on maternity leave…anyways, do you think you could do the parent teacher night thing for Piper? I think she only has two teachers because you know, it’s just kindergarten, but still I don’t want her to miss it.”
The kitchen is silent, void of food sizzling.
Stiles cranes his head to the left to see Derek looking at him, thick eyebrows drawn up in confusion.
“I’m—that is parent teacher night. Parent,” Derek says, “I’m not her dad.”
Embarrassment floods Stiles. The wakeup calls. The coffee. The window. The egg preferences. All the other countless little things that have added up throughout most of the year.
“I forgot I was a single parent….” Stiles mutters more to himself than Derek.
The werewolf picks up on it of course.
“You know what we should do? We should invite some of your dolls and plushies to breakfast. Do you want to go pick a few from your room?” Derek asks in a soft tone to the child resting on the counter.
The girl lights up with the idea almost sliding off the counter in excitement, but thankfully Derek catches her and puts her on her feet. Piper bolts down the hall and into her room ranting about who deserves to have breakfast. Stiles knows she’ll have a hard time picking between Mr. Bear and Ducky.
With Piper out of the room it leaves the adults to deal with the tension. The remaining stove burners are turned off, and Stiles doesn’t have the nerve to turn and face Derek. What kind of parent is he? He’s grown so dependent on Derek that thinking about the man moving out scares him.
“I can hear you thinking,” Derek starts.
Stiles stops biting on his lip, “you have supersonic hearing.”
“Supersonic is a bit of an over exaggeration.”
“Shut up. You know what I mean,” Stiles says, biting the bullet as he spins around.
Derek is standing in the middle of the kitchen looking stupidly….attractive in his basketball shorts and an old hoodie with some cheesy New York tourist bullshit on it. His hair is still tousled from sleep and his facial hair is more beard than scruff. Stiles is so taken that he’s allowed to see Derek Hale like this.
“I wasn’t trying to make you feel bad,” Derek starts again, “I just am not Piper’s dad. I don’t want to impede because you’re her actual dad and this is parent teacher night.”
Stiles wants to hit himself over the head with a frying pan. Repeatedly.
“Then what the hell do you call all of this?” Stiles demands, keeping his voice low but serious.
“You! Taking care of Piper when I have work or when I’m too tired to get up early enough although we both know my dad is perfectly capable of doing that. Making diners that you say you haven’t made since before the fire, saying it’s nice to share them with a family again. Bringing Piper and lunch into the station for me and sitting with me at my desk to share it like—”
Stiles’ voice breaks off and his eyes fall to the floor.
“Like what Stiles?” Derek asks, suddenly in his space, his fingers tilting Stiles’ chin back up.
“—like my mom and I used to do for my dad,” he finishes, brining his gaze back up to Derek’s.
Lips are on his and it is glorious. Scratchy facial hair makes the skin around his mouth tingle, large warm hands that hold his hips grounds him in this moment, and when it finally hits him that Derek Hale is kissing him, Stiles doesn’t hesitate to reciprocate. His fingers wind themselves into Derek’s ink colored hair and he presses his body closer into the contact that is so so good.
Teeth and tongue are just being introduced to the party when reality hits them, and reality is named Piper. A gasp sounds to their left followed by the sound of toys crashing to the ground. He and Derek rip themselves apart, and nothing is able to mask how disheveled they are.
“I knew it!” Piper finally says, jumping up and down excitedly.
“Um, what?” Stiles asks in a high voice.
“You and Derek,” Piper says with a ‘duh’ kind of tone, “it’s like Uncle Scott and Auntie Kira! You guys are all mushy and stuff.”
Derek breaks out into this hysterical laughter and Stiles feels so incredibly dumbfounded. His five year old kid knew about them before they even knew about them. There is a them now. Stiles smiles as that thought crosses his mind; obviously, there is still a lot of logistics to talk about but everything is changing for the better.
Stiles moves and picks up Piper, settling her on his hip, giving her cheek a wet smacking kiss The girl squeals and shies away from the obnoxious contact.
“Does this mean Derek can do the teacher thingy?” She asks.
“This absolutely means I can do it,” Derek nods, bunny teeth sticking out of his brilliant smile.
“But first, pancakes,” Stiles amends.
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