#tweenw

Jensen Ackles

Imagine Daddy Dress up Day by @luci-in-trenchcoats Don’t Shave by @luci-in-trenchcoats

Dean Winchester

His little Wimpers by @kittenofdoomage Beg for It by @luci-in-trenchcoats

Derek Hale

Bad mood by @chloe-skywalker Coming back Home by @imagine-the-feels Not Today by @helplesslyinlovewithcharacters Pack Mom by @fandomnsfw Mark of the Wolf (series still in progress) by @scribeofmorpheus

Tyler Hoechlin

The day had been going smoothly. Derek and I were running some errands for the pack, since we’ve unofficially become the responsible adults, the pack thought we should check out some abandoned warehouses for sale. So, with some sweat, teats, and a lot of Derek’s money, we found a perfect loft where he could both live and host pack meetings. We also had some time to grab a few drinks, probably a few more than needed. But we had a reason to celebrate. The day had been going smoothly until we got stuck in an elevator.

“It shouldn’t take too long, calm down. It’s the alcohol talking.” Derek rolls his eyes at me as I desperately bang on the elevators closed doors. My palms sweat as I think back to the Final Destination movie I seen not that long ago. 

I turn around to face Derek, who seems relaxed and not even a little worried. Possibly due to his never-ending alcohol tolerance. 

“Derek we are stuck in a death box. A box of death. We are going to die!” I exclaim and put my face in my hands, ready to start weeping. Am I over-reacting? Possibly. Is there a real chance of us two dying in this elevator? Probably not. Am I going to freak out over this anyways? Of course.

Derek walks towards me and wraps his arm around my shoulders comfortingly. He’s never really been affectionate, so this just makes me realise that he’s probably actually worried about me getting grey hairs and dying in here. 

“A little lower and you’ll hit Mount Rushmore.” I chuckle and drop my hands by my side. I don’t have to look but I know his eyes basically seen the back of his brain at my comment. 

“Mount Rushmore?” Derek questions as he looks at me, my face flushed with the alcohol and fear of the current situation. 

I grin and wink at him. “Cause your face should be between them.”

Derek looks like he’s not sure how to react, whether he should be shocked or laugh or just brush me off. Instead, he just ignores me. 

The two of us sit down against the wall opposite the doors, his arm still around me. In a way, he’s helping. Yes, being stuck in a death trap is horrible, but at least I have someone with me. Someone incredibly attractive and funny and protective and...

“(Y/N) you’re basically drooling.” Derek comments, his eyes looking at my lips. Oh, right. I wipe my mouth with my hand and look up at him with a smile, his face slightly fuzzy but still god-like as per usual. I wonder who he got the looks from. 

“What can I say, I’m wondering what the eye-candy tastes like.” I grin and set off into a fit of giggles at his expression. He looks like a disappointed parent who got stuck with carpooling the neighbourhood kids for the next year.

“I know you’re not trying to hit on me in this life or death situation. I just know it.” He mutters. Hey, he said we’d be fine. He’s just exaggerating now. 

“Can you touch my hand? I want to tell my friends I've been touched by an angel." I lay down on his lap and look up at him. He doesn’t have a terrible under-chin angle like literally everyone does, which makes me utterly convinced he’s out of this world and not worthy of us 

Derek sighs in exasperation as he looks down at me. The tho of us always joke around, just never like this. I think it’s the alcohol talking, but drunk minds speak sober thoughts. So it’s lit and I love this man. 

“(Y/N) you’re going to regret even thinking those god-awful pickup lines when you get home.” Derek laughs a little as his fingers fiddle with my hair. He’s a stressed out person, and despite my tormenting and the death situation, he genuinely seems happy. His lips are slightly turned upward and his eyes are no longer clouded by doubt and misery. 

I fins myself sitting up and running my hand through the little beard he’s been growing. It suits him. Without really thinking about the consequences, I lean in and press a small kiss to his lips. It only lasts a few seconds, but those few seconds are pure bliss. 

When I pull away I stare at Derek, wondering how he’ll react. There are three emotions that appear on his face. 

Surprise. He looks taken aback, not expecting what I just did, perhaps not knowing how to react. 

Apprehensiveness. He’s looking at me like I’m an unpredictable animal, like a timed bomb. But not judgmentally. 

Relief. Relief at what?

Derek gently takes a hold of my hand and intertwines our fingers together. He looks at me, cautiously but reassuringly. “Something makes me think you won’t regret them.” Derek chuckles a little, and leans forward slightly. Just as he’s about to kiss me, the elevator starts back up and we begin to move. 

I immediately shoot up and start yelling and celebrating me surviving my encounter with death, though my head pounds. 

“Thank you Jesus my main man, I knew I could count on you.” I grin up at the light and finger-gun it. Derek also stands up and as the doors finally open, he wraps his arm around my shoulders and leads me out of the building, making sure I don’t fall over.