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honeybeezgobzzzzz · 6 months ago

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🐺 My Best Friend’s Father

My Best Friend’s Father: Isla has been friends with Allison Argent since she moved to Beacon Hills, and it was given that she would eventually become friends with Christopher Argent. After begging Chris for some hunting tricks to protect herself from the supernatural, Isla finds herself breaking an unspoken rule between best friends. Do not fall in love with their father.

Warnings: Language, Explicit Material (Unprotected Sex is a No No).

To Note: Christopher Argent x NAMED!Female!Reader, Legal Age-Gap, Allison is NOT Dead, Reader is Depicted to Have Hair Long Enough to Pull Up.

Word Count: ~7.6k

There is an unspoken rule about best friends. Don’t ever catch feelings for their father’s, no matter how attractive they are, or how nice they can be. It was a recipe for disaster and certain death for said friendship, not to mention the glaring age gap and societal standards. It was wrong, and you knew that.

But can you control who you love?

You had met Allison when you had started a tutoring job in chemistry at the local high school, you were already friends with Lydia, so becoming friends with her was bound to happen one way or another. You had been with her through thick and thin, from her mother dying, her breakup with Scott, and her near death experience at the hands of the Oni.

Out of everyone in Beacon Hills, you would say that you were closest to Allison, but that also came with a draw back. The longer you were friends with Allison, the more you got to know her father, and the more he got to know you.

Friends. You would say that’s how you started out, you had practically begged him to teach you some hunting tricks to learn how to protect yourself. He was agreeable given your proximity to Scott and the fact that you spent a lot of time with him and Stiles. They were bound to drag you into something.

Training was probably the worst thing you could have asked from him. Close proximity, hands on your body to show you correct form, and rolling around a mat while trying to learn how to throw an actual punch had all made the subtle feelings glaringly obvious. Especially when you ended up just staring at each other for a solid minute rather than doing the work you intended to do.

Your last training session had you so close you thought he was going to kiss you while you straddled him after successfully pinning him to the ground. Well, he hadn’t and you had hopped, skipped, and leaped out of there a soon as you were done to take a long, cold shower.

Since then you had been ducking out on your training sessions, saying you were busy with your online classes, or telling him you were sick. You had pulled every trick in the book you could think of, and eventually Allison had come sniffing, asking why you hadn’t been by in nearly three weeks.

Thank god she wasn’t a wolf because she would have instantly smelled your lie.

You had edged around it, since you both had a pack meeting to attend and if you spent the time talking to her about it, you’d be late. So with a promise to eventually talk about it, you headed for the meeting where you spent the entire time under the gaze of one Chris Argent.

Fidgeting for what had to be the thirtieth time in the last hour, you tried to get yourself into a comfortable sitting position. You couldn’t, not with those blue eyes practically staring holes in your head. The worst of it? You were planning on going on a date afterwards so you were dressed up nicely for once.

This was probably the first time he had ever seen you in something other than jeans, leggings, or sweatpants, and he probably knew exactly what you were dressed up for. Now you may be hopelessly in love with Chris Argent, but that didn’t mean you were trying your best not to. The whole reason why you were going on this stupid date was to try and forget about him, not because you actually liked the guy you were going with.

You were hoping he was charming, or cute enough to distract you, you didn’t even care of it was only for one night. That’s why you had gone all out on yourself for once. Make up, clothes, heels, hair, you had done it all in hopes to entice your date.

After pulling out a black boat neck long sleeved shirt, you had paired it with a leopard print asymmetrical ruffled skirt that had a slit that went up to your left thigh, flashing a bit of enticing skin. Pairing that combo off with a pair of black, chunky ankle strap heels, and a cute little black handbag, well, you were set. You had even gone the extra step to curl your hair before pulling it up into an updo held by a clip.

It went to show just how desperate you were to find someone else to supplement the love you longed to have. Find someone else, forget about Chris. That was your new mantra.

“So that’s it for the patrols,” Scott finished talking. “If anyone wants to be added or removed text me, other than that, we’re done.”

“About time,” Your muttered underneath your breath before shooting to you heel covered feet and striding towards the door.

“You’re in a hurry tonight,” Derek muttered as you strode passed him. You shot him a look, daring him to say more with your eyes.

“I’m busy,” You snapped out.

“Yeah, not until eight so you and I can have a nice conversation.” Allison spoke up, practically skipping up to your side and taking your arm. Allison pulled you out of the loft and then to a quiet place where you wouldn’t be disturbed. “Well you look hot tonight… got a date?”

“Actually yes, I do.” You returned, crossing your arms over your modest cleavage. “So if I could please leave so I’m not late…”

“You’ve got thirty three minutes,” Allison huffed at you, crossing her own arms and owning up to the fact that she had probably dug up information on you. “So what’s up with you and my dad, Isla? You haven’t been over in three weeks, dad’s been moping and you look like your nonexistent boyfriend broke up with you.”

“Chris does not mope, Allison.” You returned, your eyebrows furrowing at the picture of one Christopher Argent moping. “And like I said, I’ve been busy, classes—“

“Ended four weeks ago, I know when my best friend is avoiding someone. What happened?” Allison said, cutting you off. “You two get into a fight or something?”

“Nothing of the sort, its— Allison it’s probably best if I start learning hunting from someone else. Someone I won’t—“

“Fall in love with?” She offered, cutting you off again. Your eyes went huge and darted around, looking to see if anyone was near and had heard her.

“Allison!” You hissed at her. “You can’t say things like that, especially with those sensitive ears around.”

“It doesn’t make my words any less true, I know you love my dad.” Allison responded with a shrug. “It was weird to think about at first, but now not so much.”

“Alli, he probably doesn’t even like me like that, why would he?” You answered in frustration. “He’s your father for Christ’s sake.”

“So? It’s kind of obvious that he likes you back, and age aside, you two make each other happy, which my dad really needs right now.”

“Allison!” You screeched, your face flushing with heat. “God! Your his daughter and I’m your best friend! That’s just— no! Why do you think I’ve stayed away for the last three weeks!”

“Well, I’m not bothered by it as long as I don’t have to call you mom,” She said with a shrug.”You really should give him a chance, I love both of you and I want you two to be happy.”

“Allison,” Your sighed, resisting the urge to rub your face and smear your make up. “Now really isn’t the time, I’m supposed to be going on a date with another man.”

You started walking for the exit, Allison trailing behind you. Just as you neared the exit, Scott and Stiles appeared with Malia, Chris following shortly behind.

“Oh, that reminds me, can I borrow your phone Isla?” Allison asked as you tried to ignore Chris’s perpetual stare. Yep, he definitely knew something was up with you, and you had a feeling he had caught on to your avoidance.

You plucked your phone from your purse, not questioning why Allison would need yours when she had hers, and handed it over. While Allison did whatever she was going to do on your phone, Scott turned his eyes to you.

“Hey Isla, do you want me to put you down for next Wednesday night?” Scott asked, his eyes peering into yours. Blinking yourself from Chris’s gaze, you looked at Scott before nodding.

“Sure, yeah, Wednesday’s are best for me. It’ll be better than staying home and twiddling my thumbs.” You answered Scott, taking your phone back from Allison. “But I think I have a prior obligation on Friday so I’m going to have to bail on that one.”

“No problem, someone will fill in,” Scott answered before looking at his girlfriend. “Ready to go?”

You didn’t hear Allison’s answer because your phone buzzed, looking down at your purse, you pulled my phone out and checked the screen.

I’m sorry to hear about that, hopefully we’ll be able to schedule some other time. Hope you feel better.

You blinked at the screen, confused by the words, but before you could open the text and figure out what was going on, you heard the sound of Stiles’s Jeep rumbling to life and taking off.

“What!” You exclaimed before hurrying forwards. “Don’t you dare! Stiles!”

You ran out into the parking lot just in time to see the Jeep leave the parking lot, stranding you at the loft. Letting out a sigh, your arms dropped down as you tried to figure out what the hell you were going to do now.

“Need a ride?” You jumped in place at hearing Chris’s voice so close to you. Putting your hand to your racing heart, you reluctantly turned to look up at him.

“I—“ You started before chewing on your red lip. “Well yes, Stiles was supposed to be my ride, but clearly I’ve been ditched. I have— well I mean… I’m supposed to be meeting someone at the nightclub… and Stiles said he’d take me.”

“Since when do you go clubbing?” Chris asked, his eyebrows raised skeptically, before his blue eyes washed down your body for what had to be the thousandth time this night.

“I don’t,” You responded meekly. “But I was invited and thought I’d live a little for once…”

“Come on, I’ll take you,” Chris said, reaching up and placing a hand on your back, steering you towards his SUV. “Last thing I need is for you to be wandering around town dressed like this…”

You didn’t respond to that comment but reluctantly allowed your body to be lead over to his car. You could feel the heat from his hand soak through the thin fabric of your shirt and couldn’t help but shiver. It was just cold enough that his body heat felt wonderful, and you had to resist the urge to stop walking and lean back into his touch.

Reaching his SUV, Chris was gentlemanly enough to open your door for you and shut it when you had climbed onto the seat. Sitting stiffly in the passengers seat, you waited as Chris walked around and got into the drivers seat, turning the car on.

You spent the first five minutes of the drive in uncomfortable silence.

“You look nice,” Chris spoke up, breaking the thunderous silence. Your fingers curled around your handbag.

“Thanks,” You whispered out, your cheeks flushing once more.

“This wouldn’t happen to be a date, would it? I didn’t know you were seeing someone.” He asked as he came to a stop at a red light and turned to look at you. You could only look in his eyes for a few seconds before feeling guilty and looking away.

“I’m not dating anyone… and yes… it is,” You whispered before your phone once again buzzed. You pulled your phone out and looked at the new message.

Check Ur Messages

“What the— Allison?” You questioned, unlocking you phone and going into your messages. While you were checking your messages, Chris pulled into the parking lot of the nightclub and found a spot. A frown appeared on your face as you noticed a bunch of texts on the chat between you and your date you didn’t remember sending, and opening it up, your mouth dropped open.

“Isla?” Chris asked, leaning forwards. “Everything okay?”

The hand holding your phone dropped into your lap.

“Well, I had a date,” You muttered. “Allison texted him back pretending to be me and claimed that I was sick with food poisoning and had to cancel.”

Letting out a drawn out sigh, you leaned back against the seat.

“I went to all this effort to look nice for one, and she canceled it. Why the hell would she do that?”

“It’s not a complete waste… and you always look nice, Isla, no matter what you wear.” Chris mused quietly, letting his hand rest on the steering wheel. “Isla, why have you been canceling our sessions? I thought everything was going great?”

Going great as in you now wanted to jump him? Yeah… Not so much.

“Well my classes—“

“Ended four weeks ago,” Chris spoke up, giving a you soft look with a raised eyebrow. “Allison has been keeping tabs on you for me. You literally have been doing nothing but avoiding me for the last three weeks. I may be old, but I’m not a fool.”

“You’re not that old,” You responded quietly, your cheeks a hot. “And everything is fine, I just think that I should maybe ask Derek or Peter to train me, you know, get a broader experience…”

“Really?” He asked, skepticism in his voice. “Those two? You do realize you are human, Derek might be a better choice but Peter spends half his time staring at your chest or crotch.”

“He does not!” You exclaimed, your blush deepening at his words.

“I’m a guy, Isla,” He said, waving the hand resting on the steering wheel. “I know when he’s doing it.”

“Well, so what?” You huffed, your voice rising. “If it gets the job done then so be it! It’s not like he’s the only one looking!”

“I still don’t understand why you’d rather go to those two!” He argued back. “They’ll snap you like a twig Isla!”

“Again so what!” You fired back, now getting worked up. “Maybe I’ll actually learn a thing or two about fighting a werewolf!”

“You’d really rather learn from them!?”

“I’m not supposed to fall in love with my trainer!” You snapped, not thinking about your words before you spat them out. As soon as you realized what you had said, you felt your heart dropped and the car went silent. Your voice dropped to a whisper as you covered your mouth with one hand. “I didn’t mean to say that.”

“But you did,” You flinched slightly at his quiet words and your hand slowly reached for the door handle. The door was locked. “And you are not running away before we talk about this.”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” You said in a hush. “I’m just an idiot who fell in love with someone I shouldn’t have.”

“You’re not an idiot, Isla,” Chris spoke up, his hand reaching over and gently taking yours. “You are beautiful, loyal, comforting, and I have found my life revolving around when you come over.”

“But it’s— Allison’s my best friend, and—“ You dropped your head into your remaining hand as he squeezed the one in his grasp. “What would people think?”

“You think I care what people think?”

“You should, it’s your reputation.” You shot back, giving him a look. You stared at each other for a full minute, and you wondered if your words had finally sunk into his brain. Letting out a breath through your nose, you slipped your hand from his and pressed down on the seatbelt release, letting the straps slide free from you body. “Thanks for the ride, but since I dressed up this nice, I might as well try to put it to good use.”

Just as you fingers went to unlock the door so you could sulk out of the car and pretend that this never happened, you heard Chris’s own seatbelt sliding free. Momentarily stopping your exit, you turned back to him with a raised eyebrow, wondering what he was doing this time.

Within seconds Chris had an arm around your waist and was hauling you across the leather console. With a small squeal of surprise, your hands shot forwards and your fingers sunk into his shirt as you clumsily tottered around, your knees hitting the edges of the drivers seat as you straddled his lap.

Before your brain even had a chance to catch up with the fact that you were no longer sitting in the passengers seat, Chris’s lips were on yours. He was going for broke and not using any ounce of restraint or control.

His scruffy face scraped across your cheeks, gently scratching your skin as he pressed his mouth against yours in an open, far from chaste, kiss. His lips tugged at yours until you relented to his unspoken wishes and opened yours with a soft groan.

As you were pulled into a deeper kiss, you slipped your fingers up his soft shirt to grip his shoulders, needing a way to anchor yourself before you floated away. Chris’s own hands trailed across your body, his left sliding around your back to hold you against his chest while his right slid up the slit in your skirt to rest against your upper thigh.

Months of wondering what it would feel like to kiss him, have his lips pressing against yours, have his hands on your body because he wanted them to, rather than because he was trainingy you. It was all over.

It was better than you could have dreamed of, not just his kisses, making your mind race before tripping and tumbling into a tangled mess. His fingers gently caressing your skin, making goosebumps appear on your skin and electricity run beneath your skin. All you could think about right now was how much you didn’t want him to let you go.

It was only when your lungs were burning that you separated, your face was flushed and your breathing heavier than you would have liked as Chris buried his face into your shoulder, pressing his lips against your bare skin. Your own chin rested on his shoulder as you tried to come up with a logical excuse for that, or a reason why it should be a one and done type of thing.

You came up with nothing, your mind and body only wanted more now that you had a taste.

Straddling his lap with your legs and body squished against his was the most distracting thing you had ever experienced, but at the same time, you didn’t want to move. With a tentative breath, you dropped your chin, resting your forehead on his shoulder while wrapping your arms around his neck.

“You are going to be the death of me, Christopher Argent.” You whispered, gently running your fingers across his neck.

“Hopefully not anytime soon, I quite like your company.” Chris responded, brushing his fingers up your back. “And I’d really like to start up your training again. You have three weeks to make up for.”

You couldn’t help the groan of misery at the mention of making up for those three weeks of missing training. Just because he had finally gotten you to admit why you were avoiding him, didn’t mean he was going to start going easy on you, if anything, he might start pushing you harder. Chris chuckled at your groan before pulling back so he was looking at your face.

“I’ll whip you back into shape in no time.” He told you with a cheeky smile.

“That’s what I’m afraid of.” You moaned out, your head dropping back. You received more chuckles before he pressed another kiss at the edge of your mouth.

“Come on, I’ll take you back to my apartment, since you tried so hard to dress up, I might as well be the one to enjoy it. Plus, we need to have an actual conversation about this.” You waited for him to let go so you could go climbing back into the passengers seat. He didn’t. Clearing your throat, you gave him a teasing smile.

“Chris, you actually need to let me go, because I don’t think you driving with me straddling you would be a good idea.” He let out a huff before releasing you and helping you crawl back into the passengers seat. You put your seatbelt back on as he started the SUV up again. While Chris pulled out of the nightclub parking lot, you started drumming your fingers on your thighs.

Everything was out in the open now, and it felt awkward to you. After fidgeting for what had to be the tenth time in the span of three minutes Chris reached over and grabbed onto your hand, giving it a comforting squeeze. Your eyes darted to your joined hands resting on your thigh, he knew you all too well.

Curling your fingers around his in response, you relaxed slightly and looked out the window at the passing lights. You knew each other, you were both adults, you could handle this properly.

Standing in the kitchen of Chris’s apartment, you tried not to drum your fingers on the countertop as Chris pulled out two glasses and then a bottle of scotch.

“You planning on getting me smashed?” You questioned as he poured two glasses and then slid one your way. A humor filled smirk flashed across his face.

“You look so wound up that you could be played like a violin, Isla.” Huffing at him, you snatched up the glass and raised it to your lips. You took a careful sip, keeping your face straight as the liquor burned down your throat.

“Can you blame me?” Chris leaned back against the cabinets behind him and studied you. “Chris, you are respected man, a highly respected man at that, there is no way I could ever allow my personal feelings be the cause of your reputation being ruined.”

“Have you ever considered asking my opinion in the matter?” He returned, taking a sip from his glass. No, you had not taken into consideration how he felt because you were convinced that you getting involved him would be life destroying for him.

“No, but—“

“Relationships aren’t one sided, Isla/N, I have a say in it too, and right now, what’s hurting me is you avoiding me.” Your eyes widened and your mouth opened to respond. But any response you could have made was caught in your throat and you just slumped were you stood, wordless. That… hurt to know.

He was right naturally, he pretty much always was. Pursing your lips, you looked down at the glass in your hands.

“We have seventeen years between us, Chris,” You finally whispered out. “I don’t want you dealing with whispers and gossip you don’t deserve.”

The glass in Chris’s hand paused halfway to his mouth as his blue eyes stared at you, he slowly lowered his glass back down to the kitchen counter top. Transfixed with every little moment of his body, you watched as he straightened up and started prowling towards you.

You couldn’t help but feel like a rabbit being hunted down by a fox, and your feet agreed with that statement. Stepping backwards, you backpedaled as Chris advanced until your butt hit his countertop and your hands snapped to steady yourself. Blindly setting your glass down on the counter top, you stared up into Chris’s eyes as he placed his hands next to you, caging you in.

“Work with me, Isla, please,” Chris asked softly, somehow managing to look pleading despite being having an ‘alpha male’ air to him. Your lips parted as you stumbled to respond, your face heating up while a light blush dusted your cheeks and the bridge of your nose.

“You don’t play fair,” You finally managed to whisper out, your voice just as weak as your knees were feeling at the moment. A relenting sigh passed through your lips before you responded. “But if this is what you really—“

He was on you before you could complete your sentence, his mouth instantly claiming yours as he moved a hand to the center of your back and pulled your body against his. Gasping into his mouth, your eyelids flickered closed when his tongue traced your lower lip, begging for entrance. Whimpering slightly when Chris further nipped at your lip, you parted your lips just enough for him to gain entrance.

Chris dove in, stealing the breath your lungs while hungrily tasting every inch of this kiss he could get. He was insatiable taking everything you had to give and then more, and when his tongue started teasing yours, a flare of fire burned up from the core of you body. Letting out a moan, your right hand jerked up to grab a hold of his bicep, your nails digging as your brain literally started to short circuit.

All you could think about was the hand splayed on your back, so big and strong, the smell of musk invading your senses, how your skin prickled from the cold room. You had never wanted this man more than you did right now and it was a little scary to think that you could actually have him.

Despite Chris kissing the daylights out of you and dominating your mouth like no other man or boy had before, you still managed to register his other hand slipping beneath your skirt to caress your outer thigh. Groaning at the light touch, your nails dug into his muscles when he started to slide his fingers up.

Between his mouth and his fingers lightly drawing up your leg, getting higher and higher, you didn’t know what to do or what to think. You felt like you were caught between feeling dazed and overwhelmed, and wanting more. His fingers grazed the thin strap of the thong you had bravely pulled on tonight, slipping beneath the thin strap and running along your skin.

Whimpering from his touch, your eyes nearly rolled back when his deft fingers slipped inwards to brush through your folds. That sent a blast of fire through your belly and had your hips jerking while your head dropped back, your lips detaching as a low moan poured out of your mouth. Chris let out a pleased chuckle before bending down to press open mouthed kisses along the delicate skin just underneath your jaw.

Your chest heaved against his, a clear indication at how worked up he could get you with a couple of kisses and light touches. Chris continued to stroke his fingers while you dug your fingernails into his arm even harder and tried not to wiggle around. Every pass he made against your clit had your trembles increasing and your breath more ragged.

It was evident how undone you were becoming between your trembles, your panting, and your white knuckle grip on both his arm and the counter top. Your neck was quickly becoming a center of pleasure with just a kiss of burn from Chris’s stubble.

“Chris please,” You breathed out and rising on your toes. Your body alight with burning desire and a need for more consuming your every thought.

“Do you need me like I need you?” Chris questioned, brushing his lips up the column of your neck until you were once again gazing at each other in the eyes. “Do you want this as much as I do?”

Your puffy lips were wobbly as you stuttered to get words out, he really did mean every word he said. Well he had his fingers shoved into your thong and practically in your body, you’d think that would be more than enough evidence for your brain to figure out that he was deadly serious.

“Yes,” You whimpered, fully giving into your desires for once. Chris let out a sigh of relief before withdrawing his hand from your thong. Your mouth practically dropped open, he makes you finally say yes and he pulls away!?

Smirking at your apparent shock, Chris raised his fingers and stuck them into his mouth, licking the wetness. Your cheeks burned with heat as your eyes went wide, his smirk remained on his lips well after he finished cleaning his fingers. The hand pressing into your back, slipped down, over your ass to just underneath your asscheeks where he picked you up against his chest.

Lurching forwards slightly, you let the counter top go to clutch at his shoulder while he wrapped his other arm around your back. Holding your body against his, Chris started walking through the apartment. Releasing his muscled arm, you lifted your hand to run your fingers down his scruffy face.

“I’m sorry,” You told him quietly as you brushed your fingers along his jaw. His blue eyes met yours and a forgiving smile stretched across his sinful lips.

“You have nothing to apologize for, Isla/N, you were trying to protect me, I can’t be mad at you for that.” Chris answered with a light chuckle.

“Well that’s good because you’ve got me so wet and horny right now I might scream if you don’t do something about it.” His smile turned into a smirk as he entered his bedroom.

“Believe me, Isla, I’ll have you screaming but not because I’ve left you needy.” Chris replied, brushing his nose against yours before abruptly letting you go. Letting out a gasp as you dropped back, your arms flailed for a second or two before you landed on the bed. Staring up into Chris’s face, your eyes remained connected while his hands gently took hold of your left leg and his fingers started undoing the straps of your black chunky wedges.

Holding your ankle, he pulled the heel free from your foot, his fingers trailing over the bottom of your foot making it jerk a little in his grasp. Breathing steadily through your parted lips, you watched as he repeated the process with your right leg.

With your shoes off, Chris climbed back up to jerk my sweater over your head, revealing your lace bra that matched the scanty lace thong still hidden by your skirt. But Chris didn’t reach for any more of your clothing articles. Instead he chose to push your back flat against the sheets to press his mouth against the tops of your breasts spilling out of your bra.

It was a rare occasion you had decided to wear a push up bra, you had full intentions to get laid tonight just to forget about your Christopher Argent woes. Jokes on you because said man was now lavishing your chest with sharp little kisses that left little marks behind. The sting from his little bites followed by the soothing feeling of his tongue flicking across your skin quickly reduced you to a softly moaning mess beneath him and you weren’t even naked yet.

Your hands went above your head to latch onto the silky sheets, needing something to hold while he mercilessly explored your chest. All lovers before Chris pale in comparison already, boys thinking they were men were only interested in getting in and then off as quickly as possible. But not Chris.

He was taking his time, exploring your body, mapping it out beneath his fingers and mouth, acquainting himself with what your had to offer. Which was everything. When he wasn’t kissing or tugging at your skin, his breath was tickling your skin until goosebumps appeared.

Chris moved up your chest, his tongue dipping into the grooves above your collar bones. His hands settled on your bare sides and started to slide around to your back, heading for the bra strap in the middle of your back. Arching your back so his fingers could undo the three hooks, you closed your eyes and breathed out slowly as each hook came free.

When the bra snapped open and the straps on your shoulders went slack, a streak of nervousness went through you. You didn’t have time to stew in the ‘what ifs’ because Chris was pulling your bra free from your shoulders and arms. He tossed it to the floor and took a moment to just hover over you, staring down at your bared chest.

“You’re so beautiful,” Chris murmured before bending down to capture your lips once more. His mouth nipped at yours, tugging on your lower lip until you parted your lips and he could kiss you deeper. Abandoning your grip on the sheets, your hands snapped around to take his face in hand. Just the feel of his skin and stubble beneath your fingertips felt heavenly.

Every brush of skin on skin contact had you pulling him closer and wanting more. While you were hungrily kissing each other, you started tugging his shirt up, revealing toned stomach and sculpted muscles. Being a hunter sure paid off… Pulling apart, you ripped his shirt off his body, ruffling his hair as you chucked the offending material to the floor.

You hands snaked underneath his arms to yank him down so he was flush against your body. Feeling his skin pressed against yours was serendipitous. While you were digging your fingertips into his back, Chris was finally working his own hands down your sides to pick at the waistline of your skirt.

Lifting your hips, the leopard print fabric was dragged down from your waist, over your hips, and flicked from your legs. Cold air hit your wet thong and thighs, drawing a shiver up your spine and pulling a throaty sigh from your lips.

“Matching set?” Chris questioned, his lips curving into a smirk as his eyebrow rose. You gave him a defiant smirk back. His hand landed on your thigh and his thumb started brushing up against your sensitive inner leg. “You really are asking for it, aren’t you?”

“Come on,” You breathed as you sank your nails into his belt, tugging at it to make a point. “You’ve made your point already, Christopher, I need you.”

“Don’t worry, Isla,”Chris said as he bent down to place a line of kisses along your collar bone. “I’ll save the teasing for a later date.”

He withdrew his hands and the glorious sounds of a belt being undone reached your ears. Your blood hummed in your veins while your eyes focused on staying connected with Chris’s blue ones. The sound of metal and jeans hitting the floor was music to your ears and you practically screamed with joy when Chris’s hands grabbed your legs and yanked your body closer to the edge of the bed.

A soft moan left your lips as he bent down to kiss a fiery trail across your hip bone, Chris’s mouth then started to brush across the low edge of your thong. You barely hand time to blink before his fingers were hooking around the straps and yanking the material down your legs.

You couldn’t close the space between your bodies fast enough, reaching up to slip your hands underneath his arms, you pulled him back down for a passionate kiss. Chris’s own hands went to your hips as he kissed you back, your mouths working against each other like you had hours spent exploring each other, not minutes.

Hands briefly leaving your hips, a partial smile appeared on your lips at the sound of a condom being ripped open. Oh well, you could tell him later…

When the tip of his cock brushed against your folds, you shuddered in his grasp and let out a breathy moan against his lips. Chris devoured each and every sound that came forth from your throat, and your noises only increased when he started pushing in.

Your head dropped back into the sheets as your back arched, your walls burning slightly as they stretched. You will admit, you hadn’t thought this entirely through. You were used to boys caught between teen and adult who thought their dick was bigger than the next guy. You were totally unprepared for what it felt like being with a real man.

Breathing heavily while trying to keep yourself fully relaxed, you hugged Chris’s body against your, burying your face in his shoulder as he ran his lips along your neck whispering praises.

“You’re so unfairly perfect,” You complained breathlessly, curling your nails into his shoulders when he bottomed out and just stayed there, letting your body fully adjust. Chris chuckled in your ear before pressing a few kisses on the tender skin.

“It’s called experience and knowing how to treat a woman right, Isla.” Chris responded while moving his hot and sinful lips along your jaw. Sighing out, you opened your eyes to gaze up into his burning blue ones.

“If you are trying to prove a point, you already have,” His lips twitched into that half smile of his you loved before he leaned down and pressed his forehead against yours.

“I don’t need to prove a point anymore,” He answered, your noses brushing while he released one of your hips to gently cup your face. His thumb brushed across your kiss swollen lips. “I only wanted you to give me a chance.”

“Your cock is stuffed so far in my body I feel liked a stuffed turkey, I think that you’ve more than just made a point.” You stated boldly with a wiggle of your eyebrow. His own eyebrow rose at your words. “Fuck me already.”

“You kiss your mother with that dirty mouth Miss Y/L/N?” He questioned with a teasing smile. You giggled in return, your lips stretching into a devious grin.

“What mommy dearest doesn’t know, won’t hurt her.” You returned with a shrug of your shoulders. “Now are you going to put those delicious muscles to work? I haven’t got all day…”

“So demanding,” Chris murmured before complying with your demands and wishes. Keeping his intense blue eyes locked with yours, he pulled back almost to the point of leaving you high and dry before thrusting forwards. Your mouth dropped open as you let out a loud groan, your fingers digging into his shoulders.

Chris pushed the hair back from your face before angling his lips back to yours. Pressing yours lips firmly against his, you ran your tongue over his upper lip. You had never kissed a man quite like Christopher Argent, every time you gave an inch, he took a mile and left you skydiving with land nowhere in sight.

Wrapping your legs around his torso, you held onto him while trying not to be overwhelmed by both physical and emotional feelings that consumed your very being. Lost in a world of reverie and pleasure, your heart rate increased along with the blood pumping through your veins. Chris’s mouth pulled away from you and started trailing down your neck, sucking possessive marks on the areas of your skin that were most sensitive.

You had always pegged Christopher Argent as a gentle lover, that was true and you were sure he could be. But not when you’ve been skirting around him for months, not willing to take things further than friendship. Giving into his touch tonight showed you the darker side of him, the possessive, rough, yet fully satisfying love.

You would not be walking away from this bed unsatisfied, if you would be able to walk period.

Fingers dug into your hair, pulling your head back as Chris’s other hand brushed down your back to take a hand full of your ass and give it a squeeze.

“You are so perfect, Isla,” Chris rumbled against your neck before drawing his mouth down to your breasts, in an instant his mouth was covering one of your nipples once more. His hot mouth combined with hard thrusts had your chest arching to him while your mouth parted to release whimpers.

Gasping and trembling beneath his body, you could only anticipate the orgasm that was slowly building in the core of your body. Your back slid up the sheets every time your pelvises crashed against each other. With your face faced against his shoulders, you slipped a hand to the back of his neck and pressed his face to the breast he was currently lavishing like it was the best damn thing he had ever put in his mouth.

When your orgasm finally hit you, you threw your head back as you writhed underneath his hot touch. You knew your mouth was open but you couldn’t hear what sounds you were making because the ringing in your ears over took all other sounds. Chest heaving, you panted for breath while Chris ripped his mouth from your nipple and growled.

His own body jerked while he chased his own orgasm, finally slumping down where he placed a few kisses on your marked neck. It was silent for a few moments as you both breathed heavily. Your hand stroked through his short hair as you stared up at the ceiling.

“Would now be a bad time to tell you that I have an implant and you could’ve forgone the condom?” The exaggerated groan/sigh that came from his lips was the exact answer you needed, and down right laughable.

“It took me who knows how long to even kiss you, and you’re telling me I could have come inside you?” Chris questioned before sinking his teeth into your neck lightly. “You are a teasing little shit, you know that?”

The giggles that poured out of your mouth where unstoppable as you snorted in laughter, slapping a hand over your mouth to smother your enjoyment of his exasperation.

“Next time, Christopher, next time,” You giggled while curling your fingers against his scalp. “I owe you a couple of dates…”

“Yes, you do,” He responded with a sated sigh. “But at the moment all I want is to hold you in my arms.”

“Great, cause at the moment all I feel like doing is lying here.” You responded while leaning your cheek against his head. Chris pressed a few more kisses on your neck before raising his head and brushing his fingers through your now messy hair.

“Why don’t you tuck yourself in, I need to lock up.” Chris murmured, giving your head one last kiss before pulling away. You let out a groan as he slipped from your body and his heat disappeared. Chris laughed as you propped yourself up and rubbed your prickling arms.

Watching as he went to his dresser and pulled out a pair of sweatpants, your view of his ass quickly disappeared (much to your disappointment), and next came out a shirt. But rather than diminish that view, he tossed the shirt your way. Catching the soft material before it hit your face, your raised an eyebrow and looked down at it.

“You’re trusting me with one of your favorite shirts?” You questioned him as you held the soft material up in front of you. It certainly looked like it would feel divine on your skin, and it was a bonus that it smelled like Chris.

“Something tells me you’ll look better in it than I ever will,” Chris returned with that little smirk of his tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Put that on, I want you under the covers by the time I’m back.”

“Someone’s feeling bossy,” You huffed before pulling the shirt on over your head. Chris made a noise of approval as you crossed your arms and gave him a “are you happy now” look, before leaving the room. Grumbling underneath your breath, you turned around and crawled to the head of the bed.

Pulling back the covers, you climbed underneath the sheets and rolled onto your side, letting out a sigh as your body ached in satisfaction. Well tonight certainly hadn’t ended like you were expecting and you were still slightly hesitant with the end result, but a promise was a promise and you would give the two of you a shot.

It had to have been only a few minutes before the lights in the hall turned off and the bed moved slightly as Chris climbed in to join you. Scooting over to where you were laying, Chris slung an arm over your waist before burying his nose in your neck.

“You do realize that Allison is never, ever, going to let me forget this, right?” You questioned sleepily as you wove your fingers with the hand resting on your stomach. He chuckled against your neck and hugged your body closer to his chest.

“That’s what you get for being best friends with my daughter, Isla,” Chris answered smugly while you groaned softly at the implications. “I’ll deal with it tomorrow morning.”

“I’m not explaining this one to her.”

“Isla, I’m pretty sure my daughter knew what she was doing when she sent that text and had everyone ditch you.”

“So my best friend knows I slept with her father? Great, just great.”

“At least we don’t have to tell her.”

“That doesn’t make me feel any better Christopher!”

“We’ll deal with it in the morning, now go to sleep.”

“You are so bossy,”

“Isla!”

“What!?” You huffed at him before wiggling backwards to tuck yourself as far into his chest as you could. Sighing, you closed your eyes. “Good night, Chris.”

“Good night, Is.” Chris murmured, burying his face in your hair.

Date Published: 6/5/22

Last Edit: 6/5/22

#chris argent x reader #chris argent #teen wolf

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drakoneve · 1 year ago

Text

Teen Wolf Masterlist

Requests are OPEN. Who I write for listed below the cut;

Scoot McCall

coming soon...

Stiles Stilinski

coming soon...

Theo Raeken

coming soon...

Liam Dunbar

coming soon...

Isaac Lahey

coming soon...

Derek Hale

coming soon...

Peter Hale

coming soon...

Chris Argent

coming soon...

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thatfanficstuff · 2 years ago

Note

if you're still taking gif drabbles, the above for Chris Argent/Reader/Peter Hale? Yes, I did just reread all of them. :)

I love that particular grouping. Have some fluff.

For Me?

Chris Argent x Reader x Peter Hale

Your boys were acting suspicious. They had been for weeks truth be told. Conversations that ended when you walked in the room. Huddling in the corner to talk without being overheard.

They were doing it again at Derek's loft as you sat on the couch with your arms crossed over your chest and glared at them with narrowed eyes.

Derek laughed when he saw you. "Why don't you just ask them what's going on?"

"I'm trying to give them their space. Trying being the keyword."

A few minutes later, Peter came over and offered you a hand to get off the couch. You let him pull you up and into his chest. "Let's get you home, sweetheart."

You weren't really paying attention to the drive so you were surprised when Chris pulled up in front of a little stone house. Light shone from the windows making it look warm and inviting.

"What's this?" you asked.

Chris gave you a lopsided smile. "Just a quick stop, baby. Come on."

They entered the house without knocking and dragged you from room to room to show you everything. Hardwood and exposed beams were everywhere, interspersed with warm colors and bright light. You loved it but you still didn't understand why you were here.

"What do you think?" Peter asked once you'd completed the tour.

"I love it. Who lives here?"

"You do," Chris answered. He grinned when he saw the stunned look on your face.

"Come again," you said.

Peter laughed. "It's yours, sweetheart. We bought it for you."

You were absolutely flabbergasted that they would do something like this for you. "Why?"

"Because your apartment is too small for three people and not in the greatest neighborhood." Chris stepped forward and pulled you toward him with his hands on your hips. "You needed a home."

"You did this for me?" You were having trouble grasping that fact.

Peter kissed your temple, one of his arms wrapped around your hips just about Chris' hold. "We did it for all of us," he corrected. "It's your house but we were kind of hoping to live here with you."

A large smile curved your lips until it was almost painful. When you dreamed about your future, your happiness, this is what you dreamed about. With no warning, you jumped into Chris' arms and wrapped your legs around his hips.

He stumbled backward at the sudden motion with a laugh.

"Yes, yes, yes," you yelled where you had your face buried against his neck. Then you slammed your mouth against his in a kiss.

He kept you supported as he returned and deepened the kiss. After a moment, he broke away. "Where's mine?" Peter said, his voice tinged with happiness.

Chris lowered you to your feet and you gave Peter the same treatment. "I take it you're happy?" he asked you after kissing your forehead.

You turned your head to grin at Chris while still wrapped in Peter's arms. "This is my fairytale and you two are my happily ever after. I'm ecstatic."

#chris argent x reader x peter hale #chris argent fanfiction #chris argent x reader #teen wolf fanfiction #peter hale fanfiction #peter hale x reader

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averagewriter-inthedark · 2 years ago

Text

Heart of the Ocean 💙 | Teen Wolf Miniseries Part 2

Takes place in between 3A & 3B of Teen Wolf

Teen Wolf Masterlist | read part 1 here

Characters & Pairings: Hale/McCall Pack x vampire!reader (female/platonic), eventual Peter Hale x reader (romantic), reader x male!oc ( past romance) & reader x supernatural!reader (platonic). Characters in this imagine: Scott McCall, Stiles Stilinski, Lydia Martin, Allison Argent, Isaac Lahey, Derek Hale, Peter Hale, Chris Argent, Alan Deaton.

Content Warnings: light angst, profanity, references of historical event disaster, mentions of death, blood, and murder | female!reader (she/her) | ws: 6.4k

Requested 📨 yes/no (rules for requests)

Premise: with the riddle solved the pack now have to face the truth their English teacher is not who they thought she was. To find out who’s responsible for the chaos in Beacon Hills they have no choice but to confront Y/n about her identity and nature. Even if it could cost them their lives.

——————————

*tick* *tick* *tick*

Scott’s eyes were on the clock, flickering over to Stiles who wore an expression similar to his. Filled with unease and wondering if what they were about to do was a mistake. The minutes were ticking away as the school day approached its end. Glancing to Allison and Lydia in the front of the classroom he could see in their neck and shoulders how tense they were, Allison nervously chewing on the tip of her pen. All throughout the lecture none could stay focused. Not when the person teaching had a harrowing secret they were about to confront.

How would she react? Better yet, how were they going to even breach the subject.

Scott could see them fucking everything up in the blink of the eye. He couldn’t help but recall Peter’s warning from the night before. “Vampires can be hostile creatures—especially if they haven’t fed for a while. They can go maybe….weeks without drinking blood before they start to lose their control. Considering Loretta—or should I say, Y/n, has been in Beacon Hills a few months I can only assume she is getting her blood by some other means than preying on its citizens. Still, approach her with caution if you decide to confront her. If I was a 130 year old vampire who was a wealthy socialite that survived one of the most famous shipwrecks in history and was being hunted by my creator…well let’s just say I wouldn’t let you leave still breathing.”

The more the seconds ticked by the more Scott was regretting the plan. After much debate the pack wanted to get to the bottom of everything quickly and that meant confronting Miss. Andrews at school. Which was very unnerving. Discovering she was a vampire only made her more intimidating after already establishing herself as someone who came off as unapproachable. Though they had few interactions, Scott found Miss. Andrews to possess an aura that reads, ‘better to wonder in silence rather than search for answers.’ Appearing no older than the age of thirty, sometimes she’d say words or phrases that made her seem much older.

Thankfully their English section was the last period of the day. Isaac wasn’t in the class but he had Miss. Andrews that morning and kept his eyes out for the necklace, however, he was unable to tell if the woman was wearing it.

The Heart of the Ocean.

What led them to her.

If she was wearing the necklace it had to have been beneath her high collared shirt that was paired with a black blazer and dress pants. Now knowing what they know, they realized Miss. Andrews always wore clothing that was sophisticated and concealed her neck area. Whether it be a turtleneck or a collared shirt, they wondered why they hadn’t found it odd before. California was hot even in the early months of the year—especially in April as they approached summer.

Peter’s words echoed in Scott’s mind, “Vampires are cold-blooded creatures. The warm weather has little effect on them and though the glimmer acts as a camouflage to other supernatural creatures it doesn’t change their nature. They’ll be cold to the touch. Faster than the speed of sound. Stronger the older they are. And some even have little gifts that separate them from others.”

“Gifts?”

“Abilities. Very rare among their kind but those who possess them are more enhanced in every aspect than others. I’ve heard stories about one who can read minds. An old…acquaintance, of mine said he once encountered a vampire who could compel anyone to do anything for them. Let’s hope neither your killer or his little creation have any talents. Otherwise your odds of coming out of this in one piece are going to be very low.”

The hairs stood on the back of Scott’s neck when Loretta…Y/n… passed him as she walked in between the aisle of desks. It was like his senses were trying to warn him despite his others unable to detect she was not human.

“What people fail to understand about Romeo and Juliet…” Loretta moves between Lydia and Allison, missing how both girls tense up. “Is that it is not a romance despite having a prominent theme of love thorough out the play. To be considered a romance it must have what you would call, ‘a happily ever after,’…” Turning to face the class, Loretta leans her back against the desk with her arms crossed over her chest. Scott almost perches up, straining his ears to see if he could pick up movement around her neck.

Her eyes scan across the room, lingering on Scott and Stiles when they quickly look away, “Specifically for the protagonist—or protagonists in this setting. Romeo and Juliet die at the end of the play, therefore there is no happy ending. Yes, their families end up putting past their differences due to the loss of their loved ones. But the protagonists did not get to ride off into the sunset and live out their lives in peace. So the more appropriate term for the play would be a tragedy. A genre focused on human suffering and sorrowful events that happen to the protagonist. And as we have learned these past weeks, Shakespeare was known for his tragedies. Romeo and Juliet is just one of his many—Macbeth, Othello, Julius Caesar to name a few.”

There were only two minutes remaining in the class. Scott tapped his pen against the book anxiously, eyes back on the clock as Siltes sent him another look. Isaac’s scent soon filled his nostrils, indicating he was outside the door. And glancing over her shoulder, Allison gave a slight nod of, ‘it’s gonna be okay,’ to try and ease his nerves.

“Tragedies can be inspired by an array of things,” Loretta moved her arms so her hands were clasped in front of her. Again, Scott couldn’t help but listen for the rustling of jewelry. All he got was a usually steady pacing of her heart. If that even was her heart.

“Personal lives and historical events.” Lydia and Alice glance at each other as do Scott and Stiles. “They dive into the catharsis of their audience. Bringing pleasure through pain because we as humans—,” the teens share another look, “cannot help but find a sense of enjoyment in seeing the main character fail. Witness their downfall. Does that say something about us in how we view others?” The question was rhetoric, Loretta watching the students think in silence before shrugging. “That is for you to decide.”

*ring* *ring* *ring*

In a hurry students gather their belongings and make their way out the door. For the four teenagers planning to stay they are slow in their movements.

“Don’t forget tomorrow’s quiz is on Act five,” Loretta shouted lightly, pushing off from the desk only to walk around it. “Then we will begin our unit on Poe so be sure to have your textbooks with you.” As Loretta starts to erase the chalkboard the teens draw to the back door of the class to make it look like they're leaving but really they stop once Isaac enters. Then with a nod, “let’s do this,” they make their way back into the classroom.

Reaching the front row of the desks, the sound of Stiles bumping into a chair catches the woman’s attention, turning to face the group with perplexed eyes making them freeze like deer in headlights.

“Well hello,” Loretta places the eraser down, surprised to see five of her students behind her. “Wasn’t expecting you all to stay after the period ended. Everything alright?” She connects eyes with all, sensing their distress.

Scott is the first to speak, “We’re sorry to bother you when you’re busy, Miss. Andrews,” he felt his heart pick when he nearly addressed her by her real name. “We were just wondering if you could help us with something.”

“Is it about tomorrow’s quiz?” Loretta is calm, collected, and shows no signs of nervousness. “Because unfortunately if that’s the case I can’t—.”

“It’s about our history project,” Allison cuts in, causing the boys to give her a look that read ‘what are you doing?’ She gives a smile when Loretta tilts her head.

“Are you asking me to read over your report? Check for any grammatical errors? That I can do for you if you have a rough draft.”

“No,” Lydia rubs her neck, watching Loretta take a piece of chalk in her hand while bidding a glance at her lesson plans on the desk. Lydia licks her bottom lip, “more like we would like some advice if we have the facts right on it.” Loretta makes a sound between a laugh and scoff.

“I think you’re better suited asking your history teacher,” she raises her brow at them. Her heartbeat is steady against Scott’s ears, the werewolf catching Isaac’s eyes to see he heard the same. “I’m afraid my knowledge on whatever the topic of your project is will be limited compared to your teacher.”

“Actually,” Scott swallows, “We think you’re the best person there is to help us.”

Lorretta makes another sound, smirking lightly like the teens were humoring her, “Oh really?” Chalk in hand she faces the board to begin writing Friday’s plan. “Why is that?”

“Because it’s about Titanic.”

Instantly they watch her hand stop mid air, clutching the chalk in a grip they’re afraid it was going to snap in half. In fact, it did break in half. Not even two seconds after the words leave Scott’s mouth, however, her hand remains in the air. A slight tremor replacing the chalk as it clunks to the tile floor.

Silence fills the room as all time stops. Loretta was paralyzed where she stood. Back facing the group where they couldn’t see her face. But considering she was frozen like a statue, it wasn’t difficult to assume she had the same expression they did when they saw her picture the night before.

Scott takes a hesitant step closer, tone cautions as he mutters, “Y/n.” Her low gasp fills his ears, physically reacting to the name. Behind him the others tense, Isaac consciously moving closer to Scott as Stiles pushes the girls back. They all wait for her next move.

“Y/n—.”

Slowly her hand comes down, head dipping slightly, “How do you know?” The question sounded like Y/n knew this day would come. That in a town where supernatural beings resided she was bound to be discovered but hoped it would be some time before she did.

The teens couldn’t hold back the shudder when Y/n faced them. Her eyes lacked any color. Pitch black like onyx and void of friendlessness. It made them wonder if she was wearing contacts or the glimmer had seeped away to show what her real eyes were. They prayed for the former, for Peter had mentioned when a vampire was hungry their eyes would darken.

Her jaw clenched and Scott instantly straightened to prepare for any sudden attack. She was stronger than him—he knew just from Peter’s warnings. While he had Isaac and Allison armed with a silver dagger, they were no match for a 130 year old vampire who could move faster than they could blink. And if she had abilities….they were straight fucked.

Instead Y/n’s voice went low, repeating her question, “How. Do. You. Know.”

Scott gulped, finding his voice, “Stiles,” with his hand out he motioned for riddle. Stiles fumbles through the front pocket of his backpack, finding the paper and passing it over as Y/n stares the entire time. Carefully the alpha drops the riddle onto the desk, using his fingers to slide it towards her and watches as she picks it up. They are silent the entire time Y/n reads the written words, her mouth tightening as though she recognized the handwriting the moment her eyes met the first line.

Her eyes then close when she finishes the final verse. “He’s found me,” she doesn’t need their confirmation, “it’s been him all along.” Him all along referencing the murders. “I should’ve known.” Her eyes open and lock on Scott, “When did he leave you this?”

“Last night.”

“Where.”

“U-uh Derek Hale’s loft.”

“Hale,” Y/n whispers, the name familiar on her tongue. “Thalia’s son.”

“You know them?” Stiles was flabbergasted. “Y-you know what they are.”

“Of course I do,” Y/n sounded offended, causing the teen to wince. “I’ve been alive 130 years. I knew of the Hale pack when Thalia's grandparents were the leaders.” There’s a pause as her gaze moves to Scott, “And I know Scott is an Alpha. Isaac is a beta. Allison is a hunter—part of the renowned Argent family,” there was a hint of distaste behind Y/n’s tone causing Allison to stiffen. Y/n rests her eyes on the redhead before ending with Siles, “and Lydia is a banshee. But you are the only human, Mr. Stilinski. Which might I say is quite the surprise.”

Stiles scratches his neck, “R-really?”

“Yes. Usually humans don’t last long with supernaturals. Would’ve thought you’d be a beta by now—seeing that your best friend is an alpha.” Seeing his friends become uncomfortable with the assumption, Scott switches the subject.

“Next week is the anniversary of Titanic sinking,” her expression instantly changed. “You were there.”

“I was,” it came no louder than a whisper, a distant look within her eye indicating Titanic was still a painful memory for the woman. “And you know then—from this,” she holds up the riddle, “What I am? What I do?”

Each of them nod, “we do.” They still couldn’t wrap their heads around it. That their English teacher, of all people, was an immortal who was aboard Titanic.

“And you’re not running for the hills,” she hums, not sure whether to find them idiotic or courageous. “How interesting.”

“Well when you live in a town like Beacon Hills…you try to get used to it,” Stiles shrugs, a little terrified when Y/n’s expression reads that of, ‘you think you’ve seen it all? You have no idea what else is out there.’

“This is how we found you….” Lydia removes the printed article with the picture of Y/n wearing the necklace. Handing it to the woman, Lydia sees her face soften, eyes lingering on the pictures of her with Theodore and Benjamin.

“Forgot this existed honestly,” Y/n mutters, finger brushing over the image. “It’s the only picture we ever took as a family. And this one,” she points to the one of only her, “this was the first and last time I had a portrait done.” A hand comes up to her neck area, all eyes following the movement where they watch her remove the Heart of the Ocean from beneath the material. It was more exquisite in person than they imagined. A stunning blue diamond in the shape of a heart surrounded by white diamonds and all along the chain.

No wonder she kept it hidden. Anyone would’ve been drawn by the beauty of the jewelry if they were to see it. Then of course there was the tiny fact it was worth 350 million dollars and the link to her past.

Y/n lets out a pained chuckle, “I’m impressed you managed to piece it together. So quickly might I add.” Her finger runs along the surface of the diamond, “but then again, Heart of the Ocean is not something you hear everyday.”

“It’s the source of your glimmer, isn’t it?”

Y/n narrows her eyes at Scott’s question, “How do you know about the glimmer?”

Stiles is the one to answer, “Derek’s uncle seems to know everything about supernatural creatures. He was the one who figured out you and your creator were vampires. Then he explained how you were able to pass as human—why they wouldn’t be able to pick up on your scent.”

“He said vampires will sometimes wear enchanted jewelry,” Allison’s gaze went back to the necklace, flicking back to Y/n who had straightened her posture, “That Druid’s can make it so you’re not affected by the sun and give off a human scent. He suspected the Heart of the Ocean was it for you.”

Once again Y/n appeared impressed, “well he was right. Which is unfortunate for me,” she mutters almost annoyed, eyes going back to reread the riddle. Scott leans more against the desk.

“We need to know who is doing this, Y/n—Loretta, if that’s what you prefer,” he corrects when her hand flexes. “And why. He gave us this riddle to find you and now that we have we have no idea what’s gonna happen next. Do you have any clue why he’s doing this?”

Y/n let out a loud exhale—prompting Scott to remember it was for show since vampires didn’t need to breathe. Having to put up the facade of being human for so long likely had the mannerisms come naturea. The riddle drops onto the table. “His name is Sebastian Lavigne. Don’t bother trying to find him on the records of passengers aboard that night—,” Stiles’ hand pauses as he jots down the name. “Sebastian didn’t have a ticket. He was a stowaway who snuck aboard when the ship docked in France. Disguised himself as a crew member so he wouldn’t get caught.” She paused to sigh again, “Quite frankly I’m not even sure if that’s his real name—he’s likely going by another alias.”

“Kinda like you?”

Y/n made a face at Stiles’s question, but answered nonetheless. “If you haven’t noticed, Mr. Stilinski, I do not age. If we stay in a place too long people start to suspect, therefore we have to move consistently and with that comes an identity change. But I always knew him by Sebastian though to the public he went by a different name. And so did I,” she glances at photos of her. “I couldn’t go by my real name after Titanic because of who my family was and everyone thought I was dead. Then of course the fact I was now a blood-sucking creature.

“Sebastian is a deceitful man. And this riddle—,” a finger aggressively hits the paper a few times, “is just one of his many games. He knows exactly where I am and only did this to mess with you. Probably because he knows you’re onto him. He wanted you to figure out what he was. Leading you to me…it was to warn me he’s coming.”

Lydia tenses, feeling a wave of dread course through her, “why is wanting to find you?” Y/n crosses her arms over her chest, glaring at the floor.

“Because he’s angry I left him. That I broke away from him. Vampires are usually nomadic—hardly ever join up together. Kinda like how werewolves have packs to make them stronger, well….a group of vampires would decimate anything that stood in their way. Sebastian’s a man who desires power,” Y/n rubs her hand on her forearm. “And together we were powerful—especially with our gifts.”

“Gifts?” Scott’s heart skipped, thinking of Peter’s warning. “You both have gifts?”

“Yes,” Y/n didn’t sound proud of it. “Sebastian can compel you to do anything—you’ve heard of him,” Y/n’s shoulders slumped at their reaction.

Stiles flexes his hand, unease in his voice, “Peter told us about a vampire like that. Said he knew someone who encountered them. Is he the only one who can?” Y/n’s nod of confirmation only increases their anxiety.

“As far as I know, yes he is. His gift is powerful, but it only works close range. Meaning in order to be affected you have to be directly in front of him. Sebastian has to stare into one’s eyes to compel them,” Y/n glances to her feet again, “but once he does they have no choice but to do what he says. And combined with mine…..” she shudders, making them frown. “No one could stand a chance against us.”

“What can you do?” Allison asks, a little unsure if she even wanted to know.

“Make you see anything I want. Whether it be tapping into your memory or my own, I can conjure illusions. Illusions derived from your greatest fear causing you to become incapacitated,” everyone’s demeanor became that of concern. “As you can imagine it came in handy when traveling with Sebastian—especially against our enemies,” Y/n comes around the desk so she’s closer to the group, “or more like his enemies since it was always him who had to instigate conflict.”

Lydia’s eyes draw in suspicion, “Why’d you leave him?” It was the question everyone wanted the answer to. And Y/n didn’t appear happy to answer it.

“He’d been keeping things from me. During my time with Sebastian he liked to isolate me—keep me from interacting with others of our kind. He didn’t want me to know I could feed without preying on humans. Or about glimmer which is why I spent most of my days locked in doors and only came out at night. He kept me from my son,” her lips tightened, “I understood why at the time…but then I found out his motives.”

The air thickened in the classroom.

“Things that could have made my fate turn out different than what it was,” her voice turned cold, eyes darkening even more. “Yes, he pulled me from the water that night…but he didn’t have to turn me into this to save me. There was another way and he chose to turn me for what I was worth to him. So when I found out decades later the truth—that he had turned me for his own selfish gain. Robbing me of the life I could have had with my son and family…”

Y/n’s hand moves to the jewelry on her neck, “I found the closest Druid I could find and had them enchant this. That way he’d lose my scent and be unable to track me.” Her hand comes back down with a sigh, “But somehow he always manages to be a step ahead of things.”

“How long ago did you escape him?” Scott wonders aloud.

“Forty years ago.”

Stiles’s jaw drops, “He’s been hunting you for four decades?”

“Likely so. With me he was more powerful. With me he was more rich,” Y/n explained, tone bitter with each word. “Shortly after we returned to New York he compelled me into robbing my own home. The amount we stole still hasn’t run dry—at least not for me,” a tinge of a smirk indicated Y/n left him with nothing when she escaped. “So I wouldn’t put it past him for devoting this many years to find me. But it’s not to get me into his good graces, no, he wants to punish me. And the best way to punish me is to play games like this,” lightning fast her hand grasps the riddle and crutches it between her fingers. “To cause chaos and hurt innocent people because he knows how much I hated it when we did. The murders. Leaving you this riddle. He won’t stop even after he’s got what he wants.”

Scott’s shoulders drop slightly, “And what does he want?”

“To kill me. Scott,” Y/n’s words send a shiver along his body. “I’ve made a life of myself without him—one where I try everyday to make up for the things I did with him. Preying on humans. Torturing the minds of those Sebastian hated. He wants me to feel that shame and regret before he finishes the job. Because that’s what he does, however, now that he’s brought you all into his game there’s not going to be an end until he’s satisfied. Once he’s through with me you will become his prime source of entertainment. Or, he’ll see you as a benefit and want to corrupt you. Just like he did to me.”

Silence fills the room as the teens take in the new information. All deep in thought wondering what to do or say next. The reality of Sebastian’s cruel nature and games proves beyond their expertise. They weren’t sure exactly how to go about it. Finding Y/n was the first step, but from what she’s told them it would not be enough.

He’ll still kill. He might even target them next—especially if they refuse whatever offer he could be planning. Y/n didn’t have to go into detail that Scott’s status as a True Alpha with a pack of unlikely allies would be something Sebastian would want to control.

And with his gift of compelling….

“We need to know what he looks like,” Scott’s the first to speak. Determination fills his gaze, “He’s got the advantage right now—a-and if he’s glimmered like you then he’s probably been passing as human.” He turns to Y/n, pleading with her for help. “You said you can show illusions. Ones that can be from your memory—can you show one with him?” The sound she responds with is one of defeat.

“He compelled me, shortly after he turned me, to erase his image from my memory because he was paranoid about us running into vampires who could read minds or Druids who could make me tap into my subconscious.” Everyone deflated at the news, but then Y/n perked up causing them to do the same. “But….he when did, he only said, ‘from this moment on.’”

Scott took a step closer, eyes full of hope, “What does that mean?”

“It means I can show you,” Y/n’s voice is low and tainted with slight dread. “I can show you the night he turned me. The night Titanic sank.”

Later that evening the pack gathered at Deaton’s clinic. It was just after sunset, around 8pm and some were starting to become impatient.

“Is she coming?” Peter grunted from where he stood leaning against a wall. “Or was this all a distraction.”

“She’s gonna be here,” Scott insisted, eyes narrowed slightly. Truth be told he was starting to worry. Y/n had promised she’d be at the clinic by nightfall but had yet to show.

“Well the clock is ticking,” Stiles fiddled with his fingers nervously.

Allison looks at the man beside her, who was checking to see if his gun was loaded with the proper bullets. “You know you didn’t have to come, dad.” Chris raises a brow, putting the safety on and placing the weapon back in its holster.

“And leave you and your friends alone with a gifted vampire who’s the reasons a psychotic one is causing hell around town? Not a chance.”

“Have you ever hunted one before?” Her voice drops to a whisper, though it doesn’t do much for those with enhanced hearing. Derek, Peter, Scott, and Isaac heard the question loud and clear.

Chris shakes his head, “No. They’re rare and not many are in America—but your great-grandfather came into contact with one in the fifties. Left us with what to do if we ever dealt with one.”

Allison gives her father a look of warning, “You can’t hurt her, dad.”

“If she gives me a reason to, I will.”

“She won’t,” she presses, aware Scott and Derek had their eyes on them. The former looked anxious.

“You don’t know how unpredictable and manipulative vampires are, Allison. None of you do.”

“She’s been in Beacon Hills for months. We asked her how she gets her blood and she said she’s been taking bags from the ER—not feeding on the town’s people,” the teen pleads, surprised with herself for defending Y/n so easily. Maybe it was the fact the vampire had been robbed of her life that made Allison sympathize. Or because she could feel the anger and fury Y/n had for her creator that she believed Y/n would stop at nothing to take him down. “And she hasn’t given any reason for us to believe she’s been working with Sebastian. She hates him, dad.” Chris doesn’t appear convinced.

“She was with him for sixty years—.”

“And she’s been without him for forty,” Allison cuts him off, promptly ending the argument. Another minute passes before all freeze at the sound of Deaton’s door chime ringing. Motioning with a hand, the doctor enters the lobby where he is met with a woman wearing a tan trench coat and boots. She spun around when she heard him approach, allowing Deaton to see the stunning jewelry around her neck. Instantly he felt the magic running through it.

“You’re the Druid,” were the first words from her mouth. “Scott told me about you.” Deaton offers a small smile.

“You must be Y/n,” when she visibly reacted to the name he apologized, “I’m sorry, would you prefer to be called—.” Her hand lifts to stop him.

“No, no. It’s fine—I’m just getting used to hearing that name again. It’s been so long since anyone other than ....” She trails off, not wanting to say his name. Deaton understands with a light nod, moving to open the gate.

“You don’t have to explain. Please, come in.”

“Did Scott inform you what to prepare?” She asks as she passes, receiving a nod from the man.

“Yes. I’m quite familiar with its effects—but I made sure to not make it too strong.” Leading Y/n into the back room, she stills at the sight of those she didn’t recognize, namely the man beside Allison and the two leaning against the wall. Everyone straightens when she arrives and her eyes go straight to Scott.

“You didn’t say we’d have guests.” Her tone is weary, making Scott move closer to show her it was okay.

“That’s Derek Hale and his uncle Peter,” a finger points to the two, glaring when he notices Peter’s eyes linger on Y/n’s figure. While he couldn’t blame him given Y/n’s striking beauty there were more important matters at the moment. “He’s the one who helped us figure out what you were.” He hears the woman make a sound similar to ‘hmph’, causing Peter to smirk and give a mock wave. Scott rolls his eyes, motioning to Chris, “And that’s Allison’s father, Chris Argent.”

Y/n’s expression tightens, appearing slightly uncomfortable with the lineup. Four werewolves, two hunters, a Druid, and a banshee? Vampires were strong creatures but even they could become intimidated. “Quite the party we have going on then.”

Stiles clears his throat to appease the tension, “uh what took you so long?” The question snaps Y/n out of the intense staring contest going on between her, Peter, and Chris. She removes her gloves to place them in her pocket.

“Well considering I’ve been out of practice I needed a pick me up to ensure my power would be at its best,” lips curl up, almost menacing which has Chris inch his hand closer to the holster. She sees the gesture and raises a brow in challenge, “Don’t worry, hunter. I didn’t sink my teeth into anything other than a donation bag.” She pays no mind to his glare, instead removing the Heart of the Ocean from her neck.

When Y/n does this a new smell enters the room right as the unusual steady pacing of her heart stops beating. The aroma is overbearing with vanilla and lavender—even for those without an enhanced sense of smell. For the werewolves, they perked up as they had never smelled anything so delightful.

“You smell that?” Y/n closes her eyes as she drops the necklace into the other pocket.

“Yeah.” Scott takes another waff of the scent, turning to her only to draw back in surprise when she opens her eyes to reveal deep red eyes replacing the color they once were. The lights from above almost made them glow. “Woah.” From behind Scott the others react to the changes of Y/n’s appearance.

Stiles and Isaac had to do a double take to make sure what he was seeing was real. Lydia and Allison shared a glance, both shuddering when Y/n made eye contact with them. Chris straightens his posture again, only amusing the vampire and Peter appears rather intrigued.

“Vampires have to lure their prey somehow,” She starts to explain. “It’s stronger for you wolves, but even you who are not are drawn by it. Makes you want to get closer, huh?” Y/n steps away, moving towards Deaton who reappears after going to the back closet to retrieve an object resembling a goblet.

“I can’t hear your heart anymore,” Scott’s tone is laced with confusion at the sudden decrease of heartbeats in the room.

“You never did. It was an illusion from the glimmer—so any creature I come into contact with would think I’m human. My heart stopped the night I turned,” the smirk she wore fell to a tight frown, “it won’t ever beat again.”

An eerie silence fills the room, her words lingering in the air. No doubt causing suspicion now that they were aware Y/n could lie and they would have no way of knowing. She could’ve been lying about everything honestly. Now they were left to wonder if any of what she said before was true.

But why would she lie? She’s made it awfully clear of her resentment for Sebastian.

The attention goes to Y/n as she removes the scalpel from Deaton’s tray and raises it to her palm. “W-what—what are you doing?” Stiles nearly gags when the skin breaks and a dark liquid like blood flows from the wound. It spills into the goblet, where a smell that could only be described as death replaces the once vanilla aroma. Deaton begins stirring the substance with a spoon while Y/n explains.

“As I’ve mentioned…” The cut disappeared without a trace not a second after Y/n lifted her hand away from the goblet. “I haven't used my power in ages—and while I fed earlier it may not be enough for it to be at its full potential. So to do this I need to remove any mental barriers from your mind.”

“And we have to drink your blood for it to work,” Peter rolls his eyes at how ironic it sounds, “how fitting.”

Y/n narrows her eyes at the man, “If you’re worried about it becoming a vampire you need not to worry. There’s no venom—that only comes from a bite. Sound familiar?” The air becomes thick and Scott moves between the two when Peter's eyes flash blue.

“What’s it going to do, Y/n?”

The vampire takes the goblet from Deaton, passing it to the teenager first, “Open your mind. To do so my blood is mixed with decade old sap from the Nematon and a rare form of wolfsbane. You’ll feel some discomfort,” she points out when all the wolves instantly become hesitant at the mention of wolfsbane, “but it won’t kill you. I need your mental state to be vulnerable. Ignore the smell—I know it’s revolting but it’ll taste like dry, bitter wine.”

Scott stares at the goblet before taking it in his hands. Inside the contents was a dark liquid with a smell that made him want to gag. He couldn’t help but ask Deaton, “You’re sure about this?”

“I’ve never worked with this before but I know someone who has. It’s potent but short lasting and won’t affect you once it’s out of your system in a few hours.” Deaton gives a look of assurance, “You might feel a pressure in your head that’s like a headache.”

Y/n adds on to the vet, “that’s so show your mental walls are dropping. But like your emissary said it’s temporary. Allowing me enough time to show you my memories in the form of illusions. But I must warn you all,” she pauses to glance at each of them. “My illusions are like vivid dreams. Where it feels real. Your body will remain paralyzed here, but your mind will be somewhere else. Not only will you see what I have to show you,” Y/n’s entire demeanor becomes serious once more. “You’ll be able to hear everything. Feel everything. The sun's rays. The cool breeze. The freezing waters…..It will be as though you’re experiencing it in real time.”

There’s a pause, letting the reality sink in on what the vampire was implying. “My question is….are all of you wishing to see what I have to show you? Now is the time to step out if you’re having second thoughts.” When no one objects, despite all looking relatively nervous, Y/n clasps her hands in front her. “Well, Scott, start us off.”

“We all have to drink it?” Stiles cringes when he’s passed the cup, Scott letting out a gag after the taste hits his tongue. Y/n smirks as she nods.

“Unless you would like to sit this out, Stiles, then yes.” Groaning, the teen plugs his nose and takes a swig before handing it to Isaac. Even after taking several gulps of water the awful taste of iron and wood remained.

One by one each person took their turn of downing the potion, with Deaton as the last one to do so. Within seconds it took effect, the most notable sign being the headache forming. Then a light feeling started to swirl all along their body. Like they were on cloud 9.

“Is this what it’s supposed to feel like?” Derek moaned, squinting when the light suddenly started to become brighter.

“You’ll get used to it in a moment,” Y/n’s closes her eyes, taking a deep breath despite not needing one. It was mostly to calm her nerves as she allowed the memory dug deep within her mind to surface. A moment later the warmth of the sun hit her skin. The smell of fresh paint and sea salt filling her nose. And the sound of a ship's whistle and people shouting echoed in her ears.

The others gasped, making Y/n open her eyes where she found them all, mouth agape and eyes bulging as though they couldn’t believe what they were seeing, staring at whatever was behind her. And when she turned around, Y/n’s lips curled up into a sad smile.

Seeing the ship of dreams again after decades filled her with an emotion she couldn’t describe—she couldn’t imagine what the pack were thinking. Probably wondering if it was a dream and they’d wake up any second. The memory was as clear as the day it was made—everything around them was exactly like it was that bright sunny Wednesday afternoon.

It was like they traveled back in time to April 10th, 1912.

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gulnarsultan · 2 years ago

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@swaggbella

I'm not very experienced in writing smut. I hope you will like it.

Yandere Chris Argent x reader (smut)

You noticed that the house was very quiet that night. Your daughter Alisson was on a date tonight with her boyfriend, Scott. Your husband Chris noticed right away that you were too quiet. You jumped in fear when Chris silently approached from behind and hugged you.

"Chris. You scared me."

"What do you think, my beautiful wife?"

"The house is very quiet without Alisson."

"Hmm. Maybe we should have a second child."

"Oh my God. Chris, you're not funny."

"I am not kidding."

"What would Alisson think?"

"I think he would be happy."

You couldn't control the groans that escaped your mouth as Chris began passionately kissing your neck. Chris picked you up and carried you to your bedroom. He blew kisses from your neck to your chest as soon as he put you on the bed. Massaging your breasts by grabbing them was starting to warm your body. Your lips met passionately while Chris was teasing your clit. His fingers had already made you wet.

"Chris"

Your whining amused your husband. You were out of breath as he inserted his fingers inside you one by one. It was as if your body and mind were in ambush thanks to the second orgasm. Then your husband's dick was rubbing against you, causing you to whine.

"Chris please."

"What do you want, sweet wife?"

"I want you to give me another baby. Fill me up. Please."

"Your wish is my command."

A groan escaped your mouth as Chris thrust his dick into you. Your hands were wrapped around the sheets, trying to calm yourself. Chris had not neglected to torment you with a soft tempo at first. Your moaning more and being around him more often caused him to speed up his pace. The feeling in your stomach was reporting that you were very close to having an orgasm. After you ejaculated, your husband ejaculated inside you at full speed. He then reached out and pulled you into his chest. He had placed a kiss on your forehead.

#teen wolf x reader #yandere teen wolf #yandere teen wolf x reader #yandere chris argent #yandere chris argent x reader #chris argent x reader #smut and fluff

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avada-kedavra-bitch-187 · 2 months ago

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Someone plsssss write this

Ok so imagine beacon hills high school it’s a college instead and there all 20 not 21 just yet and it’s when Lydia meets Alison’s dad and you could see on her face she’s like damn he’s hot well what if reader was there too and she’s on bed by Lydia and she’s thinking the same thing. Well let’s say either Alison’s mom died before she came to beacon hills and reader ends up with Chris

Orrrrrrr Allison’s mom isn’t dead but Chris and her aren’t really getting along but they can’t get a divorce or something and one night reader hears them arguing and she ends up sleeping with Chris and they end up together publicly after Allison’s mom dies

#teen wolf x y/n #teen wolf fic #teen wolf #teen wolf x pack mom reader #teen wolf x reader #teen wolf x sister reader #lydia martin #allison argent #chris argent x reader #chris argent #Chris argent x Y/n #Chris argent x you #beacon hills #teen wolf incorrect quotes #teen wolf x you #friends dad

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specialagentlokitty · 1 year ago

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Chris Argent x reader - everything I wanted

Hello, I wanted to ask if you could do one of Chris Argent where he is married to Peter's ex-girlfriend and Peter is jealous because Tn doesn't love him anymore and they are expecting their second baby with Chris - @andreahalstead24 💜

Glancing at your husband from across the room, you smiled a little bit to yourself as you went back to looking at the map in front of you.

“You’ve ran this area before right?” Scott asked you.

“Oh yeah hundreds of time I know it like the back of my hand, here pass me the pen.”

He handed it over to you, and you began to draw trails for him and his group to follow, parts of the forest only a werewolf could navigate.

“Isn’t it weird that you married a hunter?” Stiles asked.

You shrugged a little.

“No weirder then it would you marrying a werewolf or a banshee.”

“But you’re a werewolf! Natural enemies!”

You heard Chris laugh from across the room, and he walked over with the little boy in his arms.

“We’ve never had a problem with one another. In fact the first time I met (Y/N) she saved me from a werewolf.” Chris said.

“Who?” Scott asked.

“My psychotic uncle obviously.”

You looked at Derek, smiling a little bit. Walking up to him, you pulled him in for a hug much to his protest and let go.

“If James isn’t a werewolf surely this one has to be.” He said.

You rolled your eyes.

“It’s not a competition Derek, I don’t know if they’re werewolves or humans, as long as they’re happy and healthy.”

“You want one to be a werewolf.” Chris said.

You grinned a little bit at him.

“Come on how cute would it be! A little werewolf?! That’s adorable!”

“As long as they don’t inherit your temper.”

You huffed a little at Chris, going back to help Scott with what he needed.

It wasn’t often you came to the loft, with Chris and Derek being on tense terms, and the word of your ex living there you tried to avoid the place.

But if they needed your help you were more than happy to come over and help them.

James babbled a little, reaching out for you, so Chris held him on your back so he could hug you.

“Give me a second baby.”

James babbled, leaning himself over your shoulder to watch you and Chris held him so he wouldn’t tumble over.

The door opened and closed, and you paid it no mind.

“If you’re going to come here at least don’t bring him.” A voice snarled.

“Oh shut it hale.” You snapped.

You turned the map towards Scott and stiles, turning your attention to talking to them, avoiding the burning gaze that was focused on you.

You carried on helping them, reaching up to pull your son into your arms to go let Chris help Derek with something.

“Thank you so much (Y/N).” Scott sighed.

“No problem, like I said I used to run those trails all the time, you should still be able to pick up my scent so just follow it.”

He nodded and rolled up the map, stuffing it into his bag.

“I could have told them that.”

“But you’re an unhelpful bastard.” You replied.

James looked at you, reaching for the pen in the table.

Smiling you set him on the table, giving him the pen and some paper so he could draw.

The other two boys left, and you swept James up, walking over to the couch you sat him down nearby and slowly eased yourself into sitting down.

Peter looked up from where he was sat in the stairs.

“Again?”

“Just because I have kids and you don’t doesn’t mean you can question my choices.”

“Shocked you wanted a child with a hunter, let alone wanted to marry one after what they did.” He spat.

You glanced at him.

“I’m not a spiteful bastard like you Peter, it wasn’t Chris or his family that hurt me, it was someone else.”

“You swore you were going to hate hunters forever.”

Looking over to your husband, you smiled a little bit, staring at him in admiration.

“People change. Or at least some do.”

Peter stood up, walking over he sat down on the table in front of you.

“I never changed, I was unresponsive after being burned and you dumped be for some hero wannabe!” He hissed.

“I dumped you after you became a raging psychopathic alpha. I waited for you for seven years, yet you never gave me any sign. And I didn’t dump you for Chris, we just grew close after his wife passed and after I thought you had died and realised we had a lot in common.”

Peter scoffed.

“I can’t do half the things I can.”

“Exactly, he’s better in every way. He doesn’t give a shit about power.”

Peter narrowed his eyes at you.

“You wanted power too.”

You rolled your eyes.

“I wanted a family, someone to love me, and not chase after these ridiculous notions for being powerful or killing people!”

“He’s killed people!”

“Bad people! You killed people just because you could!”

You placed a hand on your stomach as you felt a small pain and took a deep breath, leaning your head back a little bit.

Once it had passed you turned around to look at Peter once more.

“I can everything he can.”

You shook your head.

“No you can’t Peter. I don’t love you anymore and that’s all there is too it. You’re not the same man I fell in love with. I love Chris.”

Peter growled a little bit and you growled back.

“Don’t get defensive with me now hale, I could still take your heart out of your chest even if I’m pregnant.” You warned.

Chris looked over at the sound of your growling and he quickly made his way over, sitting next to you, taking your hand in his.

He looked at you in worry and your anger melted away the moment your eyes connected with his.

“I want to go home.”

“Of course, come on, we’ll stop to get you that horrid pizza you’re so in love with right now.”

You grinned a little, slowly getting up, letting Chris pick up your son.

You walked over to Derek, giving him another hug, not even bothering with Peter.

The older werewolf watched as you left, a growl in the back of his throat, the urge to go over there and stop you from leaving with the hunter.

But he knew better.

If he went over there it wouldn’t just be you he’d have to deal with, it would be Chris and Derek as well.

He watched you leave and he grumbled to himself, going to the window to watch you fully go, and you didn’t even look up at him.

He was angry with you.

Not that you were happy.

But they you were happy without him.

You had everything you had always wanted without him, and that made him furious, it made him want to rip Chris to shreds.

But he couldn’t.

Because as much as he was furious the thought of upsetting you like that would break him as well.

But Peter was never going to accept the fact that you had moved on past him, and you had a perfect life, and he was never going to be a part of it

#teen wolf #teen wolf x reader #teen wolf x you #teen wolf imagine #Chris argent #Chris argent x reader #Chris argent x you #Chris argent imagine

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quigonswife8 · 2 years ago

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Teen wolf characters: they save you/help you

Includes: Peter, Jordan, and Chris

Warnings: swearing, blood, death

Peter:

"No."

Peter can hear your heart-beat begin to slow- your breath shuddering, and the blood...there's so much blood.

"(y/n).", and, for once, the man is at a loss of words. Trudging- limping- towards you, he makes his place next to you. Hands moving to press down on your stomach- the blood coating his hands.

"Peter?"

but you're so weak. Unable to keep your eyes open long- only glimpses of Peter in your vision.

"...it's me sweetheart. I'm here."

Hunters. They're the reason for this. They'd been after Peter, when you'd been there. With no hesitation one of them shot you before Peter could even stop them; he'd been forced to watch you get shot.

"It will be okay..."

Through half-lucidity you place a hand on the left side of his face. Smile growing on your lips;

"...I know it will be, because you're here."

In another situation he would find this adorable, but right now, it only emphasizes more the urgency of the situation. He needs to heal you, and quick.

Looking back at you with kind eyes- only you're ever witness to- Peter sucks in a deep breath, letting the healing begin.

Through this whole process you are fighting back the urge to fall asleep 'cause if you do you'll probably die. No you are able to force yourself to stay awake until he's finished healing you.

When the healing is over Peter feels light-headed, but apart from that, he's okay. He pulls his hand away, and glances down at you.

"...see..."

Then, he stands with his arms already wrapped around you holding you close.

"...you're alright..."

He glances down at you just in time to see you drift off. Relaxed- in no pain- but fine. You're okay. He lets go of the breath he'd been holding.

Pressing a soft kiss to your head Peter falls into a step, heading off to find the others.

Jordan

You hadn't seen it, but now as Jordan is unaware of the debacle you have yourself in, you're forced to stand there.

Bear trap. It had been hidden so well that no one, not even your werewolf friends, would have been able to notice it.

"Jordan...?"

Heart racing at what feels like a million miles an hour; but you force yourself to remain strong. Jordan stops, and turns, his eyes soon falling on your panicked face.

The deputy tilts his head, confused.

"Everything alright (y/n)?"

Sighing- shakily- you look down.

"Not really, no..."

Jordan follows your eyes- they fall on that device- and then his heart stops.

"Shit..."

Tucking away his gun, he slowly approaches. Bringing himself into a kneeling position to search for the instructions; different trap, different instructions. he has dealt with this before- last time things went...differently.

"Okay..."

So while he finds the instructions and reads over them you have to stop yourself from freaking the hell out. You trust Jordan- of course you do- but anyone with their foot stuck in a trap would feel this way. And with your heart racing as fast as it is you swear you'll die of a heart attack instead.

"Okay..."

He looks up at you- the fear on his face, evident.

"...okay when I tell you jump out of the trap and I'll grab you."

"Okay..." with a small nod, you force a smile on. "Okay Jordan. I trust you."

The deputy nods, his eyes flicking back to that lever. Jordan nods to himself, brngs his hand to the levers, and then turns it.

"Now!"

You jump out of it, like he’d said to, and Jordan grabs you. *bang* the trap goes off mere seconds later. You're fine, though- no broken leg.

"Thank god..."

A weight lifting off both of your shoulders; you practically lose strength in your legs Jordan being the only one keeping you upright.

"Thank you Jordan..."

He nods, not letting you go.

"You're welcome."

Chris:

The moon looms above, providing you with light, while you trudge through the woods.

Chris is behind you, one hand on his gun, while the other rests by his side.

"...how long now?"

With your own weapon out and ready for if anything were to happen, you're soon joined by Chris. Who looks ahead, but also glances at you from time to time.

"A few more minutes."

Hunters, as always, have been causing some trouble for the pack. You and Chris had decided to go and scope things out, see how many of these hunters there are.

"...you sure you want to stay?"

"I'm sure."

You soon fall into a silence, some glances spared between eachother every so often. Sure you'd rather be spending your friday night doing anything other than this, but at least when you've dealt with these hunters, you can ensure the safety of the others.

They may be supernatural's but you and Chris are still the adults [Derek having left a few weeks prior], and their safety is your top priority.

Picking up speed a little you realize you're unaware of the eyes from nearby. A hunter has caught wind of your little 'scoping out mission' and has been following for the past couple minutes. His aim is on you, and then he'll be able to 'take out Chris' next. In this hunter's words 'he's smarter'

Chris says something, earning a quiet laugh from you. Nudging him gently you flick your eyes to the path ahead, again; the hunter gets closer, smirk on his lips, and when he's sure he has a lock on you, he brings his hand over the trigger.

5: he counts down in his head

4: he notes that smile on your lips. It will be gone soon.

3: a small click sounds as he quickly loads in another bullet

2: "You're dead."

*bang*

Gunshot ringing out through the woods. Gun dropping to the ground, the body joining the gun.

Silence...

a breath is let out, and then quick footsteps over to the body. Chris looks at the body...and then he turns to you. You stare at Chris with wide eyes, shock covering your face.

"What..."

"He was going to shoot you."

Chris closes the distance between you, placing a hand on your shoulder. Letting out another breath you'd been holding you place a hand on top of Chris’s shock still on your features, but also relief.

"Thank you."

He hides his fear, that he had nearly missed that Hunter. Chris nods, a small smile tugging at his lips.

"You're welcome."

The two of you soon continue on, but you notice Chris become more protective.

#teen wolf #peter hale #chris argent #jordan parrish #peter hale x reader #chris argent x reader #jordan parrish x reader

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honeybeezgobzzzzz · 6 months ago

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🐺 Old Flames: Chapter Four

Old Flames: Juniper Camden died, but now she is back. After being revived by the supernaturals of Beacon Hills, Juniper is in for a heartbreaking whirlwind of ‘What the Hell Do I Do Now?’. Her boyfriend has twenty five years on her and a family of his own, she was declared dead years prior, and yet June still looks like the twenty year old she was before she disappeared. What is a girl to do? Avoid Christopher Argent at all costs.

Warnings: Guns, Angst.

To Note: Chris Argent x NAMED!FemReader.

Word Count: ~5.1k

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Stiles and Allison led you to a warehouse (not exactly original in your opinion) as Lydia headed back to the Martin house to keep Natalie busy. That left you, Allison, and Stiles to plan out an impromptu rescue/intervention on your way.

Slinking through the shadows, you all watched the tense exchange happening between the hunters and the pack. Chris was naturally leading the pack in the negotiation, but as Allison said…the hunters didn’t seem to be interested in negotiating anything, especially since they were under Gerard’s orders.

Withdrawing your handgun from your side, you skimmed your finger along the safety as you assessed the situation. Right now the hunters had the upper hand, you needed to take that back, and the best way to do that was to be assertive and make sure that you got your point across. Well, you were already pissed off enough, it shouldn’t be too hard to express that emotion. Flicking the safety button and stepping forwards, you raised the gun. With one aim and a single press of the trigger, you commanded the rooms attention.

The gun of the hunter you had targeted flew out of his hand and clattered to the cemetery floor as he yelped and drew his clenched fist to his chest.

“Wow! That was impressive! So dead on! Where’d you learn to shoot like that?” Stiles announced as he and Allison, who had her bow up with an arrow knocked, came forward. You, with your gun still trained on the man you had just shot his gun out of his had, kept the scowl on your face.

“What are you talking about Stiles? I missed.” You took enjoyment at the gulp and whimper from the man. “Now, does anyone else want to piss me off? Because I’ve had a terrible day, well, it’s been a terrible month, and I’ve been needing a stress reliever. You’ll be making my day so much better by being my target practice, I’ve always been told I’ve a trigger finger.”

“I don’t think you quite realize what is.” One of the other hunters started. You narrowed your eyes at him and shifted your gun, firing a bullet into the wall next to his head. Concrete fell to the ground behind him

“Don’t I?” You questioned, your eyebrow twitching. “You are threatening my friends, not to mention teenagers, I take that personally. So, unless you want to be shot in a place that will give you a slow and absolutely agonizing death, I suggest you put your guns down, relieve yourself of all hunting weapons, and talk about this like civilized men. Yes?”

It only took one more threatening look from you for the men to slowly start relieving themselves of their weapons. Of course, no one wanted to back down, especially with Gerard pulling the strings… and naturally Chris was at his wits end with his father and his extremist ways. But eventually, they finally started making some leeway.

By the time the pack actually managed to get a word in and start cordial talks with the hunters, you were itching to dart out of the warehouse and get some fresh air. Blood was still pounding in your veins and your heart raced. It only worsened when your eyes connected with blazing blue ones. Your finger brushed against the safety of the gun in your hand. You hated when he looked at you like that because now your heart really felt like it was shattering. He was looking at you like he used to, like you had hung the stars and the moon, or cured cancer. It was that type of look that really broke you inside.

You had assimilated into the world of the supernatural all too easy, but at the cost of twenty five years and the love of your life. Your eyes dropped to the floor of the warehouse for a moment before you edged towards Isaac who finally had received help in getting the bullet out of his arm.

“How’s the arm?” You asked quietly, looking down at the dirty blond. Isaac looked up at you with a particle smile and grimace.

“I’ll live, thanks.” He said in reply as his fingers poked the oozing bullet wound. “Wouldn’t be the first time I’ve been shot, and probably won’t be the last…”

“That isn’t something a teenager should be used to,” You murmured to yourself. “Let alone experience…”

It was only when Chris started speaking to the hunters, explaining that the supernaturals of this town didn’t hurt humans, that you started stepping backwards, the jitters now causing physical shakes. You backed your way to Stiles, who gave you a look.

“Air,” You mouthed to him, inclining your head to the door you had come through. He nodded at you as you passed him. A few steps past him you stopped and turned back. You handed Stiles your gun.

“What am I supposed to do with this?” He asked you, holding the gun awkwardly with his fingers.

“Shoot any of the hunters stupid enough not to listen to Chris.” You huffed at him.

“I’ve never used a gun!”

“Point and shoot!” You stated before turning away and slinking your way out the door. It was all too easy to slip away when everyone was so absorbed in fixing the current issue it was almost laughable. Most of them were shifters, were they not? Shouldn’t someone other than Stiles realize that you had left?

That didn’t matter anymore, once your feet hit sidewalk, you started running and you didn’t look back. You ran. You ran and you ran and you ran until your lungs felt raw and your legs couldn’t carry you forwards any longer. Like some sort of sad romantic movie, it had started raining halfway through your sprint away from the warehouse. But that hadn’t deterred you in the slightest. In fact, you had ran harder, the adrenaline rushing through your veins fueling your body. It felt like everything you had been avoiding, all of your emotions you had been pushing aside, were finally crashing down. All at once.

You were frustrated. You were angry. You were confused. You felt cheated. But worst of all? You were hurt. It had only taken a second look at him, only a minute thinking about how easy it was to fit into the hunters world, for everything to finally hit. To sink in. You could have made it in Chris’s world, you would have survived, flourished even. But that choice was taken from you.

It was no ones fault but Gerard Argent’s. He had taken everything from you in his vendetta against the supernatural. There was no point in trying to think about the what ifs or what was, not anymore. It was gone and you weren’t getting those years back. Deep in your heart, through all of the sharp, breath stealing pain, you knew that your days with Christopher Argent had been the best, and you wouldn’t trade them for anything. But it hurt, it hurt so bad.

Your mother always said what was love and life without a little hurt? How else were you supposed to learn to love harder, treasure those closest to you, if not through the pain of not doing so the first time? She might have been right, but this kind of pain wasn’t the type you were inclined to feel for the rest of your life. Slowing down from your sloshing sprint, you felt the rain like they were sharp little daggers of cold, piercing your skin and saturating into your bones. Your left leg burned, you had probably irritated your healing scratches, but you didn’t care.

You numbly came to a stop and briefly glanced up. Out of all the places your legs could have taken you in Beacon Hills, they had taken you here. They had taken you home. The knife strapped to your thigh felt heavier as rain soaked into your jeans, chilling not only your skin, but the metal of the blade as well. Your fingers brushed against the water sodden material while your eyes dully took in the aged apartment building you had once lived in.

The building used to look vibrant and full of life, kind of how you were. But now it just looked old, rundown, and in need of a clean up if not a total overhaul. It looked sad, lonely. Someone had let it go to time. Just like how you felt.

Sniffing, you reached up and wiped at your face, brushing warm and cold droplets from your cheek. You were used to doing things on your own, this would be no different. Just… harder, you couldn’t rely on Lydia to pick you back up every time you fell. You reached up for the necklace hanging around your neck and fumbled for a few seconds while trying to unhook it from your neck with your cold fingers. When you did, you brought it in front of you and looked at the silver talisman you had been given so many years ago.

You remembered Chris explaining that it was made of argentium silver. It was stronger than your average sterling silver, purer. You were ignorant to the initial meaning of the necklace, but now, you understood. Wearing it meant that you were an Argent, you didn’t need rings and a marriage certificate to make that happen.

But you weren’t exactly one now, were you? Had you ever been one?

Ever so slowly, you let your palm tilt to the side until the chain and pendant started sliding across your wet skin. But rather than slip free of your hand, the chain was caught by a larger palm and promptly pressed back into yours. You flinched when fingers proceeded to wrap around your chilled hand until they held the necklace firmly between your palms.

You couldn’t bring yourself to even look at him so you chose what was probably the cowards route. You kept your chin down and closed your eyes. If you couldn’t see him, he didn’t exist… right?

“Juniper,” Your name rolled off his tongue like quiet thunder, threatening to some, but therapeutic to you. How could a voice be therapeutic? Your eyelids opened as drops of water fell from your lashes.

“What’re you doing here?” You softly mumbled out, itching to pull your hand away from the incredible warmth of his. Anything to get away from what you could not have. “Don’t you have negotiating to do?”

“That was the first time you’ve ever pointed a live gun at a human, dead on shot by the way,” Chris answered. “Add the fact that you actually pressed the trigger… I know for a fact how wired you are with adrenaline right now.”

“I’m fine, thanks,” You said flatly before working up the courage to yank your hand from his. Your act only gave him two choices, grab your hand and let the necklace drop, or hold onto the old silver jewelry and let your hand free. He chose to keep the necklace from falling to the dirty, soaked concrete.

“We gonna talk about this?” Chris asked you while you were turning your shoulder to scurry away and put some much needed distance between the two of you.

“What is there to talk about?” Your answer was vague and disinterested if not a little hostile, and he knew it. But Christopher Argent was not a man who backed down at rebuke, or would let you get away with not talking about the elephant that sat between you like the Berlin Wall. Besides, he knew you. You would get away with nothing, not even after twenty five years.

“Plenty, believe it or not. You’re avoiding me, making it hard to even try to start up the conversation we both need to have.” You snorted, trying your hardest not to flash your eyes up at his and bite back like you so wanted to.

“Like you’ve been any better. You act like time is inconsequential!”

“Hardly, June, you’re still twenty. You’ve got plenty of time to figure things out.” Chris sighed out, clearly not happy with your less than jovial attitude.

“I’m aware!” You snapped back, your fingers tightening into fists as you rounded back on him. “I get to look at myself every day in the mirror and see someone who is supposed to be forty-five! How in the hell am I supposed to get my life back together when I don’t know how anything works!? I’m mean, I don’t even know who I am anymore! Happiness doesn’t exist in my life, Christopher! I had everything I ever wanted in life, and now it’s gone!”

You were shouting over the distant thunder now, your eyes flashing with anxiety, hurt, and fear. You were a caged animal that was scared and searching for an escape. You waved a violent hand at the decaying apartment building.

“You know, maybe they shouldn’t have woken me up. Staying dead would be so much easier than trying to figure out what the hell I am going to do with my miserable life!” Lightning lit up the sky like fireworks shortly before a loud crack of thunder drowned out most city noises.

Rather than argue back in the heat of the moment, Chris took the chance of deafening thunder and bright light to take hold of your wrists and yank your body to his. You let out a startled gasp at the movement, crashing into his chest with a soft grunt. He tilted his head down so your eyes stayed connected and for a few precious seconds, he said nothing.

“Don’t ever say that again, Juniper Camden.” His voice was deathly quiet and almost indiscernible against the sounds of the storm. But your ears heard the words like they had been shouted. “Don’t ever say that.”

You hadn’t ever heard him speak like this. He was more than angry, more than livid, he was enraged. It wasn’t his words that scared you, or his controlled anger, or even the loud cracks of thunder you felt like jumping at. It was the look in his eyes.

Devastation mixed with pain. So much pain.

“Not a minute has gone by in the last twenty-five years that I didn’t wish that you would come walking through my front door with that lopsided smile of yours as you danced to your walkman. Or wake up and see you passed out next to me with your hair a complete mess, drooling.” Chris’s voice was husky and strained, like the very words were hard to get out. “I tried. God, Berry, I tried to get over you. I married the woman my father set me up with, I had a child, a life… but I can’t. I don’t think I can get over you. I don’t want to. My mind and heart always goes back to you. So please, don’t disappear from my life again. Not when I just got you back.��

Your eyes were burning with unshed tears and your lips trembled. Christopher Argent was not an overly emotional man, but right now you felt like he was pouring his heart out just so you wouldn’t disappear on him for a second time. You blinked and this time a hot droplet was running down your cheeks rather than cold.

“You’re an idiot Christopher Argent, for not letting me go.” You whispered with a wobbly voice. “But I promise that I won’t run.”

Your promise took the tension right out of his shoulders, and the next thing you knew you were wrapped up in a tight embrace. Squished against Chris’s chest, you let out a shaky sigh and let your head rest on his chest as hot tears continued to roll down your cold cheeks.

What were you going to do now?

First off, Chris had dragged you back to his apartment to take a shower and change into dry clothing. So here you were warming up in Allison’s shower while trying not to overwhelm yourself with thoughts of one Christopher Argent. A nearly impossible task know that you had aired out your grievances to each other. You had yet to talk about what would happen in the future, or what your relationship was at the moment, but it good to have some feelings off your chest. You weren’t suffocating as much now.

Rubbing your arm absentmindedly, you looked out the small window in the apartment bathroom. It was still raining hard, the sky had darkened to a moody black that illuminated every time lighting sparked to life. Letting out a soft sigh, you drew your eyes away and reached for the shower handle, twisting it to off.

You wrung your hair out before stepping out of the shower and grabbing one of Allison’s fluffy towels. Wrapping it around your body, you rolled your neck and looked into the mirror. Your eyes no longer looked red from crying and the fatigue that had clung to your features had faded slightly. You weren’t back to normal June yet, you were a long way off, actually. But you were getting there.

Drying off your body, you then tried to get as much moisture from your hair as you could with the towel before changing into the clothes Allison had left for you before she had departed to spend time with a healing Isaac. You didn’t know if she really was spending time with her boyfriend or if she was just giving you and her father time to ‘talk’.

Looking down at the clothes she had left, you noticed that while she had left one of her pairs of sweatpants, one of Chris’s old shirts was in the stack. But it wasn’t just an old shirt. It was the band shirt Chris had gotten when you had gone to the Journey concert all those years ago. You had already worn it a few times in the past and you were still surprised he had it.

Changing into the warm and dry clothes, you let out a slow breath while tugging the shirt down. It was still way too big on you, but the material had been worn down to kiss the skin with softness. Leaving the bathroom, you pulled your damp hair from the neckline as you limped back for the kitchen where Chris was no doubt brooding at the moment.

Emerging from the living room, you kept your arms hanging loosely at your sides while you looked around the kitchen. It was all modern, the same items you had familiarized yourself while living with Lydia, but still different and foreign. Your eyes landed on Chris who was talking on his cellphone by the sink. Just from his words you could tell he was talking to Allison.

“…are you seriously—and she hung up on me…” Chris sighed to himself as he lowered his phone.

“Does she do that often?” You questioned softly, crossing your arms and leaning against the doorjamb. Chris turned partially around and smiled before glancing back down at the cellphone in his hands. Then he did a small double take. Your eyebrow rose.

“Not usually, but it is an increasing circumstance as of late. Yet another stage of raising a teenager they don’t tell you about.” He responded slowly, his eyes washing over your body. “I see Allison raided my closet.”

“I figured,” You pushed away from the doorjamb and limped a few steps further into the kitchen. “There are a lot of things I think we need to talk about, and I am not sure where we should start…”

“I think at the beginning,” Chris said before walking over to a bar like area and grabbing two glasses.

“May I remind you that I am still twenty?” You said as you eyed the glasses that got filled. Chris snorted at you before offering one of the amber filled glasses.

“If we are speaking technically, you are actually forty-five. I think you have a by for that law, June.” Staring at him, you reluctantly took the glass in hand and followed him back to the living room. Neither of you sat down, but it felt like a more relaxed environment to be in. You took a small sip of whatever alcohol Chris had given you. “You’re limping.”

“Thigh’s not happy with me after I ran to get some air.” You explained shortly. “It’ll get over it with some rest.”

“Ran to get some air? More like sprinted.” Chris huffed underneath his breath. He then rubbed his forehead and sighed. He wasn’t happy with your words, but didn’t push the topic further. “How often did he have you doing work for the company?”

So that’s where he wanted to start. Right for the throat, just like his father. You had no doubt he was positively seething in anger at his father.

“Here and there, it was mostly just dropping off packages or collecting signatures.” You explained as you tapped your fingers on your glass. “Though my work load had increased leading up to—I guess he was trusted me more with work.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about this, about who my family really was, about what I did,” Your eyes flickered back to Chris’s.

“If I remember correctly, you didn’t have much of a choice, Christopher.” You reminded him with a faint smile. “I wasn’t family.”

“Not yet you weren’t,” Chris muttered before taking a drink and rubbing his forehead yet again. “But I wanted you to be.”

“We had a mutual agreement, getting married right away wasn’t important. It was just a piece of paper and a pair of rings” You gently reminded him.

“But I would have at least been able to tell you!” You were almost at the point of raising your voices, so you looked away and took a long sip of your drink, feeling the burn as it traveled down your throat. “I only wanted to protect you, June, I wanted to keep you safe until you were ready. That’s all I ever wanted.”

You got that, the amount of time the two of you had spent at the gun range and hunting deer was astronomical… but it all made sense.

“I know, it’s part of your charm,” You mumbled quietly, staring off into space. “I’m not sure it would have made a difference. The Mendoza’s were desperate and Gerard was stuck in his ways.”

“He still is,” You raised my glass in his direction in acknowledgement. It didn’t surprise you, the man was more stubborn than a rock. Gerard would take his beliefs to the grave, that was one fact that was written in stone.

“Peter said that everything has been set up for you, paperwork, money, a degree… you’ve had plenty of chances to bolt. What are you still doing in town?”

“Do I need to reiterate my earlier statement, Christopher?” You questioned while setting your glass down and chewing on your lip.

“What earlier statement?” Chris grunted, tossing back the rest of his drink. Your fingers played with the hem of the band shirt you wore.

“I guess that means I do,” You muttered to yourself before pushing your hand through your damp hair.“Christopher, if I didn’t love you, do you really think I would have stuck around in a town that ruined my life?”

That brought him to a standstill, and you mean a complete standstill. He stared at you with those piercing blue eyes of his to the point where you felt like squirming where you stood. But just this once, you were going to stand your ground. So you stood there feeling somewhat awkward until he moved. Chris slowly walked up to you and raised a finger.

“Don’t say things you might not mean, June,” Chris said in a soft, yet strained voice. He was acting like your words were tearing him up inside, like you had said that on a whim to appease him. “Not now.”

What were you going to say to convince him that the only thing keeping you going, was him? Your mind went back to a memory not that long ago, or at least not that long ago in your memory.

“Christmas, 1989, the Argent cabin up in the Sierra Nevadas. What did I tell you?” You whispered your question. He blinked at you, probably wondering why you had asked such a random question. Then he looked like he was thinking about it, and realization seemed to dawn on his face. “Life isn’t worth living if I don’t hav—“

He was on you before you even finished your sentence, taking your face in hand and pulling your head up until your lips crashed together and his stubble scratched your cheeks. It was hurried, slightly uncoordinated, and most definitely not a peck on the lips.

Chris traced your lips with his tongue and then urged your mouth open to deepen the toe curling kiss. Twenty-five years and his kisses only felt more intense. This man aged like fine wine. One of his hands slipped to your back and pulled your body further against his. Reaching up, you set your palms against his chest and dug your fingers into his shirt.

Whiskey soaked lips held yours captive and spun you back up into a whirlwind of fervent desire and touch. Between the rapid beat of your heart and the room now feeling a touch to hot, your body went from slightly chilled to much too warm. Kissing Chris when he was in his twenties had always felt exciting and gave you a rush of adrenaline. But kissing him now nearly stole the breath from your lungs. Even when your lips parted, he didn’t stray far, choosing instead to rest his forehead against yours. Letting out a shuddering breath, you opened your eyes and stared up into his.

“The only thing that has been keeping me going since I woke up, is you.” You whispered to him, your fingers curling against his shirt once more. You dropped your eyes and pulled back slightly. “It’s been killing me on the inside and I don’t know how to handle it. I still want you even when I know I shouldn’t.”

“Who says you shouldn’t?” Chris asked, running his thumb over your jawline and caressing your lower lip.

“You have a family of your own now, a daughter, I’m not getting the way of that.”

“My family has always been missing something June, and that’s you, and in case you’ve missed the memo, Allison think you are awesome and worships the ground you walk on. Berry, I’ve spent the last twenty-five years without you, I don’t want to spend a single day more without you.”

“People are going to talk.” You whispered, wondering just how much they were going to. Twenty five years was a healthy age gap. He stroked your face, trailing his fingertips across your cheekbone once more.

“Let them.” Of course he could absolutely couldn’t care less what the public thought. You let a breath out through your nose shortly and went to reply… only to have your left leg give in a little. The sudden loss of stability had the rest of your body dropping. Your gasp of surprise barely left your lips before Chris’s arms were wrapping around your body and catching you before you completely went down.

“Okay, I think you’ve been on that leg a little too long.” He said, gently sliding arm underneath your thighs and lifting your feet from the floor. Rather than carry you to the couch as you expected, Chris bypassed the couch in favor for the hall that led to his room. You found yourself set on his bed while his hands reached for your leg, he paused and blue eyes looked up at you. “May I?”

“You don’t have to ask, Chris.” You told him with raised eyebrows. He let out a snort of air through his nose as the corner of his mouth twitched.

“Yeah, June, I do.” Your own lips curved up at the corner as you lifted your hip to let him slide the sweat pants down your legs far enough to reveal redden scars running across your thigh. “You definitely irritated something. How much have you been pushing yourself these last few weeks?”

Chris ran his fingers over the scars, pressing down in certain area to make sure that you hadn’t caused serious damage to your muscles. You winced a few times but over all it didn’t feel like you had damaged anything serious.

“Not very hard…” You responded, only to earn an eyebrow raise of non-belief. You let out an indentured sigh and rolled your eyes. “Well since my hikes in the woods were disbanded I’ve been taking a spinning class…”

“June…” Chris sighed out, the tone in his voice telling you that he clearly was not happy with your version of ‘taking it easy’.

“What?” You snipped back. “I only take the half hour class, not the full hour. You know I can’t live without my cardio.”

“That is still too much.” He chided you, running his fingertips across your skin to stroke your knee. “You’re gonna need to ice that.” Chris pulled the sweatpants from your legs and grabbed a pillow. He then lifted your knee and slipped the pillow underneath your leg. “Stay here, I’ll be back with ice.”

“Not like my leg is going to let me go anywhere.” You grumbled after him. A snort could be heard as Chris disappeared and you slouched back against the pillows. Your eyes stared at a picture of Allison and another woman hanging up on the wall adjacent to the bed. That had to be Allison’s mother. She looked pretty, but knowing that Gerard is the one that set her and Chris up, she was probably a wolf in sheep skin.

Your eyes were lingering on the woman’s face when Chris walked back in, icepack and towel in hand. He carefully wrapped the icepack in the towel and draped it across the inflamed scars.

“Did she make you happy?” Chris’s hands paused for a moment, before straightening up and sighing.

“Does it matter?” Your eyes trained on him, watching the emotions shift on his face.

“It does to me,” You answered slowly. “It matters because it has been driving me crazy since I woke up, Christopher. I can’t stop thinking about it.”

Chris sighed and reached down to take the hand nearest to him. His fingers brushed against yours as his face twisted up in concentration.

“Do you want an honest answer?”

“I want to know if you were happy.” You corrected him, feeling the heat from his fingers slowly massaging into your own. “It’s eating me up.”

“Yes,” Chris stated softly.

“Good.”

Date Published: 7/22/22

Last Edit: 9/15/23

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#chris argent x reader #christopher argent #chris argent #teen wolf

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avada-kedavra-bitch-187-films · 3 months ago

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Teen wolf question

I have a question about teen wolf and i need help answering it. I thought about it and now I’m so interested in the answer and it’s driving me crazy that i don’t know

So you know if they kill an innocent person their eyes turn from golden to blue well if they kill an innocent person before they turn are they automatically blue or what

#teen wolf liam #teen wolf derek hale #teen wolf fic #teen wolf stiles #teen wolf #teen wolf incorrect quotes #teen wolf x reader #stiles stilinski #derek hale #Peter hale #scott mcall #lydia martin #allison argent #chris argent #mama McCall #sheriff stilinski

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ellswritings · 1 month ago

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Magic Bullet 1x04

Episode 5

“If Derek isn't the Alpha... if he's not the one who bit you... then who did?” Stiles questions as their teacher passes out the graded tests they all took. Fallon rubs her eyes tiredly, exhausted from how late she stayed up going to see Derek. She doesn’t necessarily regret going, but now she feels an unnatural anger towards the man. He told her to stay out of the way. It’s unbelievable. All she wants to do is help and make sure no more people die, and yet he makes it seem as though she’s the problem.

“I don’t know,” Scott answers.

Stiles sighs and sits back in his seat for the briefest moment before thinking of another question and leaning forward, gently smacking Scott in the back with the back of his right hand. “Did the Alpha kill the bus driver?”

Scott whispers, “I don’t know.”

“Yes,” Fallon answers at the same time, a small yawn escaping her lips.

The two boys turn to look at her. She’s sitting next to Stiles in the row over. She freezes, realizing she just answered a question she shouldn’t even have any context to. Stiles narrows his eyes at her, “How do you know?”

She shrugs, trying to cover it up. “Just a hunch, I guess.”

“You’re lying,” Scott furrows his eyebrows. “I just heard your heart beat. It went up. How do you know?” He reiterates the question.

The brunette sighs. There’s no point in keeping it a secret, “I saw Derek last night…” she admits. “After the bus driver died, I wanted to know what was going on. So I went to hear it from him.”

“Are you stupid?!” Stiles scoffs, throwing his pencil at her. “What if he killed you, huh? Then what?”

“Well, I’m sitting right next to you so, I wouldn’t know,” she replies sarcastically.

“You shouldn’t have gone alone,” Scott scolds.

“You did,” Fallon points out incredulously, baffled by his hypocrisy.

“But I can protect myself in ways that you can’t,” he insists.

“Y’know I’m getting real tired of everyone assuming Stiles and I are useless just because we don’t have magical werewolf abilities,” she glares at him.

“I never said you were useless.”

“Okay!” Stiles whisper yells, stopping the argument from moving forward. “Moving on…” he turns his attention back to Scott. “Does Allison’s dad know about the Alpha?”

Scott, feeling overwhelmed by the mini argument with Fallon, along with the incessant questions from Stiles, loses his temper. “I don’t know!” He replies in a loud voice causing the teacher and pretty much every student in the class to look back at the three of them. He tries to play it off by looking out the window while Stiles sinks down into his chair. Fallon simply smiles fakely at the onlookers who turn away from the awkward situation.

Stiles is handed back his test first out of the three and is satisfied by the "A" he received. Fallon gets hers next, a small smirk on her face as she reads “A+” with a one-hundred percent written next to it. However, Scott sighs loudly when he's handed his, which has a “D-” written on it, Stiles leans forward to look at it and mutters sarcastically over Scott's shoulder, “Dude, you need to study more!”

Scott slams his test down on the desk, shooting Stiles a menacing glare. Stiles scoffs defensively, pushing himself away from Scott. “That was a joke, Scott,” he explains. “It’s one test! You’re gonna make it up. Do you want help studying?”

“Yeah, we can meet at my place tonight if you want,” Fallon suggests kindly, despite their previous argument. “We can make our own personalized pizza’s and stuff.”

Scott sighs, “No, I’m studying with Allison after school today.”

Stiles grins suggestively and pats Scott on the back proudly, “That’s my boy!”

Fallon rolls her eyes, kicking Stiles from across the way. “I said it once, and I’ll say it again. Boundaries.”

Scott nods along with Fallon, sending Stiles a pointed look, “We’re just studying.”

“Uh, no, you’re not,” Stiles scoffs, rubbing his shin where the angry brunette just kicked it.

Scott frowns in confusion, “No, I’m not?”

Stiles rolls his eyes in exasperation as though it’s obvious to what he’s referring to. “Not if I’m forced to live vicariously through you!” He exclaims. “If you go over to her house today and squander that colossal opportunity, I swear to God, I’ll have you de-balled.”

“You seriously need to get laid,” Fallon says to Stiles, taking out her book and burying her nose in it. Their teacher gave them the rest of the period off to do homework anyway.

“I’m well aware of that, thank you,” he replies as if what he said is a good comeback.

“Okay,” Scott looks at them with annoyed eyes. “Just... stop with the questions.”

Stiles nods with a grin, “Done. No more questions. No more talk about the Alpha, or Derek…” he trails off, his eyes going unfocused as he remembers the intimidating man. No doubt recalling their last interaction in the back of the police cruiser. “Especially Derek… who still scares me…”

· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

Fallon makes her way over to the girls locker room after the last bell of the day. She likes being able to change in her own space for lacrosse practice because no one’s ever in here after school. The only time she usually has to share is with the off season soccer girls who only use it to get ready for training. The brunette walks over to one of the stalls, using the restroom before changing into her gear. She still has a headphone in, listening to her playlist to keep her mind occupied. She flushes the toilet before exiting the bathroom and washing her hands. She hums under her breath, watching as the water trickles down her skin.

“Holy shit!” She screams loudly when she looks into the mirror and sees a pale, almost dead looking Derek Hale standing behind her. He sways back and forth on his feet, his blue eyes looking more gray by the second. That’s when she notices the gaping bullet hole in his arm. Derek stumbles, almost falling to the floor, but Fallon rushes forward, wrapping his arm around her shoulder to hold him up. He’s a lot heavier than she thought. “What happened?” She asks, her voice laced with concern.

He grunts in pain, squeezing his eyes shut. “I was shot,” he manages to get out. Blood drips down his arm and off of his fingertips, leaking onto her shoes. She grimaces, but knows that her shoes are not the priority right now.

“I’m sorry, you got what?!” Her eyes widen as she moves frantically to have him sit down on one of the benches in the locker room. “By who?” She runs over to her locker, grabbing a spare shirt and a pair of scissors from her backpack. Her father’s words come into mind on how to take care of a gunshot wound. She cuts a long piece of fabric out of the material before going back over to Derek and creating a makeshift tourniquet. “By the way, this is gonna hurt, so brace yourself.”

“Wha–?” He lets out a low growl as she ties it as tightly as she can. The bleeding slowly slightly, but the wound still looks nasty. His eyes flash a bright blue for a moment before turning back to their normal color.

“Why aren't you healing?” She asks, looking over his form. A wound this small should’ve been nothing for the werewolf.

“I can’t,” he groans in pain. “It wasn’t a normal bullet. It’s different.”

“Like wolfsbane different?” She asks worriedly, remembering the different things she read in the book Stiles gave her.

Derek looks surprised by her second question, impressed by her knowledge. His head lulls forward and onto her shoulder, “Wolfsbane,” his voice turns into a whisper. “Need to find Scott. Where is he?”

“I don’t know,” Fallon answers, lifting him off the bench with a grunt. “We don’t have the same last class.” She manages to get them over to the door and out into the hallway. She eyes him sadly, trying her hardest to get him outside. Her arm wraps around his waist as another method to keep him up and secure. He’s trying to help hold his own body weight, but it’s no use. He’s fading, and fast. “C’mon Derek, stay with me,” she mumbles.

They barrel out of the exit doors and Fallon stops, looking over all the heads of the students to try and find Scott. She huffs as the line of cars is long and completely backed up. There’s no way she can get him anywhere safely on her bike, but her eyes brighten when she notices the blue Jeep sitting at the front of the masses of cars.

“Okay, I’m not seeing Scott, but Stiles is right there,” she assures him, starting to drag his limp body over to the vehicle.

“No. Absolutely not,” Derek denies, trying not to go in the direction Fallon’s forcing him in. “I don’t want help from your spaz head of a boyfriend.”

Fallon sighs, rolling her eyes as she continues hauling him. “He’s not my boyfriend,” she corrects. “And unless you wanna brave it out on my motorcycle, this is the best option.”

Derek doesn’t have time to protest as Fallon stops them right in front of Stiles’ car. She puts her hand up to stop him from going and her best friend slams on his breaks. He throws his hands up in annoyance, mumbling something under his breath as he moves to get out of the car. Horns blare from every direction and that’s when Fallon feels Derek start swaying again. “No, no, no, no, don’t fall! Derek, don’t fall!”

“I’m falling,” he whispers. His body starts leaning backwards, too far backwards for Fallon to keep up. She tries to use one last surge of strength to force him up, but it’s too late. His body's stature is no match for her. They fall into the asphalt with a loud thump. Both of them groan in pain and Fallon gets up, lifting his head to put on her legs so he has some way of sitting up.

Scott apparently saw the whole ordeal from the bike rack. He rushes over to Stiles’ jeep where his two best friends are taking care of Derek. Stiles is clearly the most pissed one out of the three of them, peeved Derek stopped him from going to play video games.

“What are you doing here?” Scott asks, blocking Derek’s view from the agitated students. They don’t need to see a dying werewolf in the middle of the school parking lot.

He tries to move himself away from Fallon’s lap, but his limbs are all too limp to get very far. “I was shot,” he gasps out, pointing to the hole in his arm.

“He’s not looking so good, dude,” Stiles looks at him warily.

“I wonder why,” Fallon says sarcastically.

“Okay, you know what? Now is not the time,” Stiles narrows his eyes at her.

Scott frowns in confusion, inspecting the injury. “Why aren’t you healing?” He asks the same question Fallon did

“I can’t,” he huffs tiredly, giving up and collapsing fully into Fallon. Blood seeps from his arm and into her blue jeans and she has to look up in the sky to prevent herself from being disappointed at her now stained clothing. “It was- it was a different kind of bullet.” He repeats the same story he gave to Fallon.

Stiles perks up, all of his supernatural dreams coming true. “A silver bullet?”

“No, you idiot,” Derek snaps irritatedly.

Scott looks as if he just put together something super important, “Wait, wait– that's what she meant when she said you had forty-eight hours…”

Derek’s eyes widen in alarm, “What? Who-who said forty-eight hours?”

“The one who shot you,” Scott answers.

Suddenly, Derek is hit with a powerful wave of pain that causes his eyes to flash bright blue, the same way they did when Fallon put the tourniquet on him. He grimaces in agony. When he opens his eyes again, they're continuing to flash back and forth between his werewolf blue eyes and his human green eyes. Scott looks horrified, his eyes darting around to make sure no one is watching before he mutters at Derek forcefully, “What are you doing? Stop that!”

“Scott, I don’t think he can,” Fallon whispers urgently. “He can’t control it.”

The boy looks at Derek, placing his hands on his shoulders, “Derek, get up.”

The line of cars start to get more impatient. As soon as they see people starting to get out of their vehicles to approach them, they realize that they need to get out of there. Now. Scott pulls Derek to his feet, the man wobbling from the sudden force. He latches onto Fallon once more, the brunette grunts but wraps her arms around his midsection anyway to keep him steady. Once she was sure they could move without collapsing again, she got him inside of Stiles’ jeep, placing him gently in the passenger seat. She huffs, realizing she’ll have to leave her bike here, but there’s no way she’s going to let Stiles handle Derek in the jeep alone. He’ll just have to take her back for her motorcycle later.

Fallon sits comfortably in the back, Stiles getting into the driver’s side. Derek sticks his head out the window, “I need you to find out what kind of bullet they used.”

Scott scoffs, “How the hell am I supposed to do that?” He asks, throwing his arms up.

“Because she’s an Argent,” he says. “She’s with them.”

Scott narrows his eyes, “Why should I help you?”

Fallon looks at him with an exasperated expression. Now is not the time for vendetta’s or looking for reasons to help someone. She sends her friend a begging look, but he doesn’t seem to notice.

“Because, you need me,” Derek answers in a weak voice.

Scott looks over and sees a confused Allison walking toward them and decides to wrap up this scene as quickly as possible, “Fine,” he sighs. “ I'll try.” Scott turns to look at Stiles, who's expression makes it clear that he's feeling very put-out at the moment. “Hey, get him out of here.

Stiles shoots Scott a death-glare, “I hate you for this, so much.” Stiles puts the car into drive and sets off just as Allison comes up. They’re speeding out of the parking lot, happy to get away from the angry crowd that started forming around them.

· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

Stiles drives the injured wolf and Fallon in his jeep. There’s a tense silence surrounding them, Derek grunting in pain while Stiles shoots him angry side glances. Fallon taps her foot impatiently as she stares at her text message thread with Scott. She has to have texted him at least eight times in the past twenty minutes. She doesn’t mean to rush, but this situation seems pretty dire. Like go there, find it, make up an excuse and leave kind of situation. Not go have a whole dinner with her family.

“What the hell is taking him so long?” Fallon grumbles, tossing her phone to the seat next to her. Her frustration is evident which only gets worse when Stiles smirks at her through the rear view mirror.

“Maybe he’s busy…” he wiggles his eyebrows. “Y’know gettin’ busy.”

Fallon cringes at the innuendo, “Are you serious right now?” She scolds him.

“Stop talking,” Derek seethes, closing his eyes tightly. They stopped flashing between blue and green which is a good sign, but the low growl in his voice is enough to make her sink back into her seat.

“I’m just saying,” Stiles defends himself. “Maybe he hasn’t done anything because he’s having fun. Which is what we should be doing rather than lugging dead wolf meat around,” he chides. That stupid smile appears on his face again, “I mean, I could totally see him and Allison–”

“Stop!” Derek shouts at the spastic boy, dangerously close to striking him in the back of the head.

“Okay, you don’t need to be yelling,” Fallon directs at Derek, staring at him through the mirror. “So why don’t you stop talking and sit there squirming in pain.”

He looks back at her, fury in his irises. “Shut up.”

“Hey, you need us a hell of a lot more than we need you,” Fallon narrows her eyes. “You came to me to save your ass, remember that? You’re the one bleeding out.”

Stiles nods, “Yeah, and uh speaking of that, try not to get it all over my seats, kay? We’re almost there anyway.”

“Almost where?” Derek hisses, turning his attention away from the brunette in the back. His hand is still covering the wound, blood slowly seeping onto his fingers. The tourniquet is still doing its job of slowing down the bleeding, but judging by his half-lidded eyes, it’s not going to do any good for much longer.

“Your house,” Stiles says, his voice calmer than it was a second ago. He slows to a stop when the traffic light ahead turns red. There’s no one else on the road with them which makes having Derek in the car less difficult. No one to explain their actions to.

“What?” Derek’s head snaps over the boy. “No, you can’t take me there.”

Stiles looks at him incredulously, “I can’t take you to your own house?”

“Not when I can’t protect myself!” Derek argues.

Stiles huffs angrily before turning his wheel roughly. He pulls off to the side of the road, turning off the jeep as he faces Derek fully, his nostrils flaring. “All right. What happens if Scott doesn't find your little magic bullet? Hmm? Are you dying?”

“Not yet,” Derek shakes his head.

“I’d really prefer it if you didn’t,” Fallon mumbles.

“I have a last resort,” he reveals, groaning loudly when another wave of pain hits him.

“What do you mean? What last resort?” Stiles yells.

Derek pulls his sleeve up fully, exposing the wound in all its glory. Fallon hadn’t seen the whole thing, only what his ripped shirt permitted. Stiles flinches violently from the sight while gagging, “Oh, my God. What is that?” He averts his gaze, looking out the window. “Oh, is that contagious?” He gasps. “You know what, you should probably just get out.”

“Stiles start the damn car!” Fallon yells at him. “He’s dying, I’m pretty sure he doesn’t need you making a bigger deal of it.”

“Listen to your girlfriend,” Derek adds menacingly.

“Again, not dating,” she points between her and Stiles.

“Hey! Alright, I don't think you should be barking orders with the way you look, okay? In fact, I think, if I wanted to, I could probably drag your little Werewolf ass out into the middle of the road and leave you for dead.”

Silence.

“Start the car… or I’m gonna rip your throat out… with my teeth,” Derek growls menacingly.

The two boys stare at each other for a solid minute or so before Stiles finally reaches for the keys, sliding them into the ignition. Fallon exhales softly, melting into her seat as she thanks whatever force out there stopped a fight between Stiles and a man twice his size.

· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

Fallon bites her nails anxiously as she and Scott text back and forth. Derek’s not looking too good, Scott. Have you found anything?

His response comes back short. Need more time. She puffs out an irritated breath. That’s the only response she’s gotten from him in about two and a half hours. The sun is already set and it’s starting to become dark out. The sky was an ombré of red, orange, yellow, and blue as the night approaches. Fallon feels terrible for Stiles and the fact he had a full tank before this fiasco started. They’ve been driving around all day. They had no idea where to take Derek. Stiles’ house was obviously a no go as his dad is the sheriff and would probably lose his mind if he found out Derek had been there. They can’t take him to Scott’s either as Melissa would freak out if they snuck in unannounced again.

“Why can’t we just take him to your place?” Stiles suggests.

Fallon shakes her head, “My dad’s off tonight.”

“But he’s fine with Scott and I being there all the time,” Stiles shrugs.

“Because he knows you both,” Fallon counters. “We could probably get away with it if your dad didn’t tell him about all the crime life here,” she sighs. “But he does. So my dad knows what the almost dead werewolf here looks like,” she says, eyeing up the man in the passenger seat. “And let’s just say he wouldn’t exactly be keen on having an almost murderer in his house.”

“Thanks,” Derek shoots a glare her way.

“I’m not the one who reported you to the sheriff,” she reminds him. “Your issues are with him,” she points to Stiles, “and your bestie beta who’s currently finding the magical bullet to save your life.”

“I am going to claw your eyes out if you don’t keep your mouth shut,” his eyes flash blue in her direction.

“Take my ears off while you’re at it,” she suggests sarcastically. “That way I won’t have to hear you complain about everything.”

“I’m so confused whether you like each other or not,” Stiles furrows his eyebrows.

“Not,” Derek answers while Fallon says, “It’s complicated,” at the same time.

The two passengers jerk to the side as Stiles rapidly pulls over once more. He picks up his phone too fast, almost dropping it in the process as he brings it up to his ear. “Oh thank God,” he breathes out. “Did you find anything… Well, what are we supposed to do with him?” He groans.

Fallon leans forward, gripping Stiles’ chair, “What’s he saying?”

Stiles swats her away like a mother would her child. Fallon scrunches her eyebrows, leaning back in her seat offended. “And, by the way, he’s starting to smell,” there’s a short pause. “Like death.”

Derek sends Stiles a withering glance before turning to look at Fallon, “Do I really smell like death?” He questions.

“Are you sure you want me to answer?” She snarks with a quirked brow. “Wouldn’t wanna make you claw my eyes out or anything,” she mocks his previous statement. Derek clenches his fists as he stares at her and she just smiles fakely. “And yes, you do smell like death.”

“Yeah, and they won’t stop arguing like freakin’ children. I feel like I’m running a daycare here. They got along for like the first hour and then all hell broke loose,” Stiles complains. Both Fallon and Derek resist the urge to physically harm the boy in some way. The crease in Stiles’ forehead deepens at whatever Scott says, “What about your boss?”

Stiles throws his head back into his chair before holding the phone out for Derek to take, “You’re not gonna believe where he’s asking me to take you.”

Derek ignores him, taking the chance to talk to Scott. “Did you find it?” He waits for Scott to explain what he’s been doing for the past almost three hours. “Look, if you don’t find it, then I’m dead, all right?… Then think about this-- the Alpha called you out against your will. He's gonna do it again. Next time, either you kill with him, or you get killed. So, if you wanna stay alive, then you need me. Find the bullet.”

· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

The jeep rolls up to the animal clinic, taking one of the many empty parking spaces by the back entrance. Fallon tells Stiles to go find the key to unlock the building and that she’ll get Derek. She runs around to the passenger side, opening the door for the man. They resume their position from earlier at the school, his arm haphazardly draped over her shoulders and her arms securely fastened around his waist . She drags him towards the door, Stiles holding it open as his phone buzzes with another message from Scott.

“Please tell me he found something,” she begs, panting heavily as she goes to set him down in the back room.

Stiles furrows his eyebrows, “Maybe…” He looks up from his device to glance at Derek, “Does Northern Blue Monkshood mean anything to you?” He asks.

Derek nods, his head flopping slightly so Fallon lifts it up. “It’s a rare form of wolfsbane. He has to bring me the bullet.”

“Why?” Fallon queries as they finally reach the table. She pushes his body against it so she’s not holding him up entirely on her own.

Derek looks up at her weakly, “ ‘Cause I’m gonna die without it.”

Fallon’s heart drops into her stomach, “Crap…” she mumbles with a shaky exhale. She turns to look at Stiles, “Tell him to get here. Now.”

The threatening sound in her voice has Stiles scrambling to send Scott the message, informing him of the scary look on Fallon’s face. Derek begins tearing off hit clothing, ripping off his leather jacket smoothly before pulling his shirt with one hand over his head. He discards them by throwing them across the room before collapsing against the table once more. He lays his arm out for display, the bullet hole being a strange blue color, no doubt a reaction from the wolfsbane that’s slowly inching towards his heart. The blood dripping out of him is now black while the same color veins stretch up his arm from the wound.

Stiles bites his fist at the sight, gagging as he tries not to vomit all over the place. “Okay, you know, that really doesn't look like anything some echinacea and a good night's sleep couldn't take care of,” he waves off optimistically, wanting to get out of here as quickly as possible.

Fallon smacks him, “We are not leaving him, Stiles. He’s dying.” She shuffles through Destin’s things, trying to find some sort of surgical tool. “What we should do is get the bullet fragments out and try to stitch it up.” Working in the hospital has some perks. She might not legally be allowed to perform such a procedure, but nothing about this screams concern for legality.

“That won’t work,” Derek shakes his head which stops her from looking. “It’s already in my system. When the infection reaches my heart, it’ll kill me,” he breathes out.

Stiles rolls his eyes, “Positivity just isn’t in your vocabulary, is it?” He snarks sarcastically.

“Why don’t you try being shot in the arm,” Fallon quips back at her friend.

Stiles throws his hands up with an exhausted scoff, “Who’s side are you on?! One minute you’re arguing with him and telling him to die, the next you’re yelling at me! Make up your damn mind!”

Derek rips off Fallon's tourniquet, interrupting their argument as he attempts to replace it with a blue elastic band. She watches as he goes to tie it with his mouth and stops him. He glares at her as she takes it from him, a glare which she reciprocates before helping him put it in the same spot the other was. “If Scott doesn’t get here with the bullet in time– last resort,” he pants while looking through the drawers.

“Which is what?” Fallon questions.

He pulls out a small saw making her and Stiles grow paler than him. “You’re gonna cut off my arm.”

“Me?!” Fallon shouts, about ready to go along with Stiles’ plan and run out of there.

“No,” he denies before glancing at freckles. “Stiles.”

“What?!” He screams the same way Fallon did. “No. No, no, no, no, no, that’s not fair! Why do I have to do it? She’s more heartless than I am, she can do it,” he points.

Fallon scoffs and goes to rip him a new one, but Derek cuts her off. “No, Fallon needs to hold me down.”

“Why can’t I do that?” Stiles throws his arms up.

“Because looking between the two of you, I can tell her arms won’t snap if I start to push back,” Derek insults. “I need someone with muscle to be able to keep me from squirming.”

Stiles looks more than offended, “I- I have muscle,” he counters.

Derek sends him a pointed look which makes the boy shrink in on himself. Fallon takes a nervous step forward, standing next to Derek as she gets ready to hold him down. I’ll just close my eyes, she tells herself. I won’t get nightmares. This’ll be fine.

“What if you start begging me to let go and it’s too late?” She asks him, her concerns growing with every second she stares at the saw.

“That’s not gonna happen,” he answers.

“How do you know?” She scoffs. The black veins in his arm are starting to become much more prominent. “What if you try to tell me to let go because you’re bleeding out and I don’t hear you? Then you die from getting your arm sawed off. I don’t want to watch you die.”

Derek leans further into the table, “It’ll heal if it works.”

Stiles eyes the saw with a sickly expression. He swallows thickly, shaking his head. “Look, I don’t know if I can do this,” he admits, his overactive imagination not doing him any favors.

“Why not?” Derek says impatiently.

Stiles looks at him like he’s stupid, “Well, because of the cutting through the flesh, the sawing of the bone, and especially the blood!” He lists off exasperatedly.

“You faint at the sight of blood?” Derek asks incredulously.

“No, but I might at the sight of a chopped-off arm!” Stiles screeches in response.

“All right, fine. How about this– either you cut off my arm, or I'm gonna cut off your head,” Derek threatens.

Stiles rolls his eyes, “Okay, you know what? I'm so not buying your threats any–” Derek cuts him off by yanking him forward by the collar of his shirt. Stiles’ eyes widen as he tries to get out of his hold. “Oh, my God!” He gasps. “Okay. All right. Bought. Sold. Totally. I'll do it. I'll do it.”

Derek let’s go of him, the boy pushing himself away from the older werewolf. He turns to say something to Fallon, but she can see the distant look on his face. “Derek, what’s wrong?” She asks attentively. Instead of answering, his cheeks puff out and he lurches forward. Her eyes widen and she tries to take a step back, covering her face with her arms. His mouth flies open and black projectile vomit comes out of his mouth, splattering all over her. She gasps as the hot liquid drips down her body.

Fallon exhales with a small whimper. She shakes her hands, some of the vomit flinging off of her fingers. “It’s fine…” she tries to convince herself. “Everything’s fine… I didn’t even like this shirt anyway.”

Stiles' jaw hits the floor, his own bile rising in his throat. “Holy God, what the hell is that?!”

Fallon turns to Stiles, her facial expression is blank. “Stiles,” she wipes her cheek. “Do what he says.”

“But–” he goes to point at the saw.

“Now!” She screams at him. Despite the vomit all over her, she walks behind Derek and gets a good grip on him. She holds his arm in place and glares at Stiles, “Do it, now.” She orders, nodding towards the saw.

He grabs the saw for a moment before looking up to protest, “Look, honestly, I don’t think I can–”

“Just do it!” Derek and Fallon yell at the same time.

Stiles jumps at how scary their symphony of voices sound together. “Oh, my God. Okay, okay…” He starts the saw, a loud sound accompanying it. He starts putting it towards Derek’s arm, “Oh, my God.... All right, here we go…”

“Stiles! Fallon!” Scott’s voice rings through the clinic.

“Scott?” Stiles looks hopeful, glancing away from the death tool in his hand.

When Scott runs in, the first thing he sees is Fallon practically pinning Derek down while Stiles holds a miniature saw to his arm. His lopsided jaw goes slack, “What the hell are you guys doing?”

Stiles turns the saw off, stepping away from it with a relieved smile. “Oh, you just prevented a lifetime of nightmares,” he thanks his best friend.

Fallon steps away from Derek, every step she takes coming with a small ‘squelch’ sound. “Speak for yourself,” she grumbles.

The older man looks at Scott eagerly, “Did you get it?” He asks, searching for any sign of the bullet.

Scott reaches into his pocket, pulling out a small bullet and handing it to Derek. “What are you gonna do with it?” The brunette girl asks, wiping her face off with a towel she found near one of the kennels.

Derek holds the bullet up, “I’m gonna–” he stumbles, his speech much weaker. “I’m gonna–” Out of nowhere, the cure Scott worked so hard to find falls out of his fingers. Derek collapses, hitting the ground roughly as Scott and Stiles try to go after the bullet.

Fallon drops to her knees, eyes going wide as she stares at Derek’s unconscious form. She cups the side of his face with her right hand, shaking his shoulder with the other. He doesn’t move. “Derek! Derek, come on, wake up!” She pleads. Scott and Stiles are babbling in the distance, but she can’t understand a word they’re saying as her entire focus is on the almost dead man below her. Her eyes scan his body and her breath hitches when she notices his chest isn’t rising. She puts her fingers to his neck trying to find any sign of a pulse. It’s there, but not very strong. The weakest pulse she’s felt. Fallon wracks her brain for any kind of medical information she’s learned from the hospital to wake him up.

Her eyes lighten up as she leans forward, opening his mouth to see if there is any blockage. She notices chunks of the black vomit he spat at her earlier blocking his airway. She sticks her pointer and middle finger in his mouth, swiping out the liquid. She then quickly turns him on his side before putting her hand into a fist and hitting him in the back as hard as she can. His eyes shoot open, blue flashing across them as he coughs more blood on Fallon. She cringes but keeps patting his back to make sure all of it leaves his system.

“I got it!” Scott screams. “I got it!”

Stiles looks at Fallon with shock on his face, “Where did you learn how to do that?”

“The hospital,” she utters out quickly, bringing Derek to his feet. “I’ve seen Melissa do it on a choking baby. Obviously with much less force, but same principle.”

“Give me–” Derek gasps in pain as he takes the bullet from Scott’s hand, biting off the tip to expose where the gunpowder is. He empties it into his hand before pushing it forcefully into the wound. He howls loudly as blue smoke starts floating up from the gunshot hole. His face turns red as he falls back to the floor, writhing around in pain. His back arches upwards as he tries to fight against screaming anymore than he already has. Fallon watches in awe as his wound begins to heal at a rapid pace, the black veins slowly disappearing until the injury is completely gone.

“That… was… Awesome!” Stiles exclaims with a clap of his hands. He pumps his fist in the air as if they just got off of an amusement park ride. “Yes!”

“I’m gonna hit you,” Fallon tells him blatantly. Stiles’ face falls, but he knows better than to continue testing her. She walks closer to Derek, sticking her hand out to help him off the floor. “Are you okay?” She asks genuinely.

Derek accepts her offer, using her to get himself up. “Well, except for the agonizing pain…” he says sarcastically.

“I’m guessing the ability to use sarcasm is a good sign of health,” Stiles comments, crossing his arms. Derek sends a death stare his way making Fallon rolls her eyes as she moves away from him and over to where Stiles is standing.

“Okay, we saved your life, which means you're gonna leave us alone. You got that?” He instructs Derek. “And, if you don't, I'm gonna go back to Allison's dad, and I'm gonna tell him everything–” the threat is cut off by Derek who looks absolutely appalled by what he just said.

“You’re gonna trust them?!” He narrows his eyes. “You think they can help you?”

Scott shrugs his shoulders, “Well, why not?” He yells loudly. “They’re a lot freaking nicer than you are!”

Derek surges forward angrily, “I can show you exactly how nice they are.”

· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

Fallon sighs tiredly as she parks her motorcycle in front of her house. Her eyes are practically closing as she trudges through the front door. Stiles had taken her back to the School to get her bike after Derek took Scott to show him how “evil” the Argents are. She closes the front door, a small click echoing behind her.

“Where have you been?”

Fallon flinches as the light to the living room suddenly flicks on. Michael is sitting in his chair in the living room, a book in his lap with a reading lamp sitting beside him. She looks like a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming vehicle.

“I asked you a question,” he says. “Where have you been? It’s two in the morning.” His voice is more than just concerned or worried. He’s disappointed.

Fallon places her helmet on the kitchen counter before turning back to her dad, “I was out with Scott and Stiles,” she answers.

“Doing what?” He continues questioning. “You all know there’s a police enforced curfew, right? None of you should be out this late, especially on a school night,” he crosses his arms as he walks over to his daughter. “You didn’t text, call, nothing. I had no idea where you were. Now, normally I don’t care because I know you’re responsible, and ninety percent of the time you’re with the boys. But with everything that’s going on, the murders, the dead bodies, you need to start being more communicative.”

“Dad, all we did was drive around,” she defends. “Stiles wanted to go get food and stuff after school, so we went and did that and just hung out around town.”

“Really?” He asks, disbelieving every word coming out of her mouth. “Just eating and driving around?”

“Yes,” she shrugs.

“Then why not shoot me a text?” He lifts an eyebrow. “I don’t think that’s too hard, do you?”

“No,” she sighs, getting tired of this conversation already. “I’m sorry. Next time I plan on being out late, I’ll let you know what I’m doing.”

“Oh no,” Michael shakes his head. “There will be no next time. From now on, you will be home by the enforced curfew time. If the boys want to come over and stay the night, you know I have no problem with that. But you will not leave this house anytime after that, do you understand me?”

Fallon scoffs, “Dad, are you serious?” She says upsetly.

“Dead serious young lady,” he nods. “I don’t want to leave my shift at the hospital getting a call from Noah saying that they found my daughter's dead body somewhere in the woods. It’s dangerous out there, Fallon. I’m not going to allow you to engage in reckless behavior. I’m your father. It’s my job to keep you safe. You might hate me now, but it’s for the best,” he shuts his lamp off, setting his book back on their shared bookshelf in the living room. “You can complain about me all you want to the boys, but I’ve made up my mind,” he walks over towards the stairs before glancing back at his daughter. “Now go to bed. You still have school in the morning. You get to deal with the consequence of being tired.”

She watches after her father, shock written all over her face. She just saved a man’s life and pretty much got grounded at the same time. Michael is a very easy going parent. She got lucky in the dad department, and she knows that. Seeing and hearing him talk to her like that isn’t common. They usually don’t have issues to this extent. They have a mutual trust. But if he’s really that worried that he’s willing to confine her to the house, she’s going to have to listen to him.

Or get a lot more creative on how to sneak out.

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