I love werepups. In my mind Stiles is cuddling with Jackson, because hurt!Jackson.
He is cuddling with Jackson actually! Boyd is by his head, Scott is has his paws in the air, Erica is behind him and Isaac is curled up by Stiles’ legs. And I know this, because I drew it. It’s part of my fanfiction verse Winter’s Edge. It was originally posted under my Teen Wolf tumblr, CuteWolfBoys.
Imagine person A of your OTP falling asleep on the couch when Person B gets home, they’re torn between joining person A, covering person A with a blanket or just carrying them to bed.
“You are not going to believe what the pack of no good, bottom feeding, sharks asked for this time!” The door slammed open with Danny’s words, even though it didn’t leave his hand to hit the wall.
“Steve?” Came next when there was no answer.
And then there were steps, and he was having to look up. Blinking
“Hey, hey,” Danny’s face swam into vision. “What’s this? Didn’t you say you had a car to work on letting drop more pieces of itself all over this hell hole? And some part of this house that especially went begging for you accosting it with your Boy Scout know-it-all?”
Steve squinted. Blinked as he pushing Danny into focus, as much as he wasn’t. He could be up in seconds for an emergency, an alarm, a mission which Danny didn’t count as. Exactly. “I got tired.”
“Someone alert the media. You might be human aftera—Woah! What do you think you’re doing?” All coincided with Steve shooting out his hands and grabbing Danny, bodily, by just above his hips and dragging him down to the couch he was sprawled out right across, and over the end of.
An akimbo of legs, and at least one brutally sharp elbow in his ribs, forcing a hard breath out, while Danny sounded more angry, still angry. “That’s what you get-“ Earning Steve nearly getting kneed, as he was having to shift while Danny was finding places to put his knees. “You could ask—any normal person would ask. But you couldn’t just ask—no. Not you.”
“You move a lot.” Steve complained, like he wasn’t actually hearing any of Danny’s words, one arm sliding like a bar up over his back under Danny’s arms, while the other hand was jerking his shirt up. “Settle down.”
“Settle down? Seriously?” His tone was biting, even as he fought against that arm to no avail. Or the hand locating his skin. “Rachel’s lawyers demand another of my morning’s this week, and you, you’re just busy stripping me already, talking to me about ‘settling down.’ You, settle down. I will go right on-”
“It’ll be fine. You’ll be fine.” Steve’s words were bottom of the barrel heavy with sleep, against Danny’s temple, where his chin was resting. Demand to be heard, but as little actual movement in it, as his hand was flattening warm and reaching across the small of Danny’s back. “Even if they ask for every morning of every week. No one will question that you’ll always do everything for Grace.”
Danny huffed irritably into his neck. Only to shift down, burying his nose and face against Steve’s skin, breathing him in. Once. Again. And, then, again. Letting out short breaths, but longer than any of the ones since his call. Until he could hit slightly longer ones.
“I hate you,” was muttered into Steve’s skin the better part of a minute later.
Leaving Steve snorting into Danny’s hair, eyes already long closed again, as his fingers continued stroking the skin on Danny’s lower back, slow and steady.