#I'm weak for single dad derek

[anothersigh]

So after the movie, no matter the timeline, this is canon. A shirtless single dad Derek holding close Eli while sleeping 🥺💕

Enough time without Teen Wolf drawings for me XD Ok, Papa HAle is cool but what about a DEREK HALE DAD VERSION *CHAN*

[noyzinerd]

More Than Just A Body (Swap)

Thinking about a post-body swap Sterek fic.

One that fully takes place after a body swap has already been reversed (like, a sequel to a non-existent fic--where they swapped bodies, had to live as the other, got switched back, yet didn't get together by the end--that's constantly alluded to, but we never actually get to read), so we only see the aftermath.

Derek is super irritated and snippy for days after they get back into their own bodies. Stiles thinks it's because Derek feels pissed and humiliated he had to relive to highschool with insufferable teenagers, be helplessly human and weak, and generally listen to authority again (his dad). It definitely bums Stiles out to think that Derek found living his life so deplorable that he's still angry about it. So now both of them are upset and sort of avoiding each other.

It isn't until two weeks later, when their stand-off is starting to effect pack business, that Stiles gets fed up and confronts Derek.

"What's your deal, man? You've been super shitty ever since we swapped back. It's been two weeks. How can you still be mad about living as me? What, was doing the dishes and being forced to write 5,000 words about the Louisiana Purchase seriously that terrible? Look, I'm sorry you had to deal with my stupid, tissue-paper body for so long, but you can't just-!"

And before you know it, Derek has him shoved up against a wall. He's still pissed, yeah, but, for some reason, he also looks...hurt and broken inside.

"Your body isn't stupid, Stiles! It was the best thing to happen to me in years!"

Stiles is stunned speechless. Derek's fingers are trembling around the grip he has in Stiles' shirt. There's so much pain in those green-blue eyes that it actually aches to look in them. It looks almost like grief.

Like Derek is in mourning.

Derek's not crying, but his eyes are definitely shinier as he continues, "You have no idea what you have, Stiles. What I had. For the first time since the worst fucking day of my life, I got to do normal things, like chores and sports. Not a single person expected anything of me o-or looked to me for answers. I didn't have to worry about fucking up and getting people killed, because the smartest guy I knew was taking care of my body like it was something precious. And all I had to do in return was live your beautiful, quiet life. A life where someone gently woke me up for school and nobody found me too intimidating to get close to.

"I got to know what it was like to be loved by a father again, Stiles! To say the words 'I love you, too, Dad' when I didn't think I'd ever get another chance. I-I got to be hugged and have people smile at me like they were glad to see me and I'd get to look in the mirror in the morning to the sweetest smile at the start of my day and hear your voice every time I talked. It was perfect." Somehow, Stiles has found his face streaked with tears even though the tears valiantly sticking to Derek's lashes still haven't fallen as his voice breaks over his words.

"A-and now? All I get to wake up to is me." The word is spit out with acid and venom. "I get to wake up alone in a cold, silent, empty, concrete room and look at a face in the mirror that makes me sick. I get to go back to my pathetic fucking life where I have to choose between literally fighting against an endless wave of people out to kill me or using my family's blood money to buy myself a microwavable dinner for the night. The only difference is that now...now I'm haunted by the feel of your fingers through my hair, your arms wrapped around me," at this, Stiles can feel his heart cracking apart at the thought of Derek using his body to simply hug himself, "y-your voice telling me that I'm going to be okay, and just-just the sight of your skin and your eyes and-and-I just, I can't, Stiles, I-I can't-!"

Stiles is clutching Derek so tight to him in an instant, tucking him into his neck and slowly lowering them to the ground as Derek collapses and sobs into him.

---

Once the tears are all dry, Stiles finally picks up the courage to be vulnerable too. He owes it to Derek.

At least it'll be easier now that he can't see the werewolf's reactions.

So, as he's stroking the other's hair, Stiles tells him about how he wishes Derek could see the man he fell in love with the way Stiles can.

He tells him about how he fell in love with a man whose heart is so big and full of kindness that he physically cannot stop himself from helping people, no matter how much he likes to pretend that he doesn't care.

The man he loves is powerful, resilient, and stronger than any one person has any right to be, yet so fragile as to be afraid of loving someone too much because he might be shattered.

The man Stiles loves is smart, sassy, thoughtful, stubborn, awkward, grumpy, sweet, and so so deserving of hugs and smiles and kisses and praise, because Derek is and has always been more than just a body.

Stiles tells him about how, during their swap, he made sure to take warm baths with nice smells, nap in cozy blankets, and massage his hands and feet with lotions because Stiles wanted to take care of Derek's body as much as he could while he got the chance. He did it because he wanted to help Derek and this was the only way he thought he could.

If there had been even the slightest indication that anything more would've been well received, Stiles would have already done it. All he wants is permission.

"Please...let me take care of you?"

---

So, slowly, day by day, Stiles enfolds Derek into a gentle life.

Stiles is Derek's strongest advocate, his extra set of hands to help carry his burdens, his pillow, his introduction to new things and new people.

They're always wrapped around each other, all the time, almost like Stiles is scared of Derek getting cold.

Despite the confession, things remain G-rated for a while. Cuddles, hand-holding, caresses, just touching. Shy kisses eventually make an appearance after some time, but they remain sweet, loving little things.

Stiles makes it perfectly clear that he's fine waiting to make a move until he's sure being intimate can't possibly be mistaken as anything else. He needs Derek to understand that this isn't obligation or pity. Stiles loves Derek. And Stiles is going to take his time because he wants Derek to feel loved beyond his body, no matter how long it takes.

By the time Derek feels whole again, now living with the Stilinskis and smiling softly as a default expression, they find themselves in front of the bathroom mirror having their first time together.

It's definitely not kinky. Mostly reverent, full of "It's okay, I'm right here", fingers laced tight together, flashing eyes, and a bit of emotional tears. It's gentle and assuring, with promises of never being alone again, and whispers of "so beautiful" and "so sweet" and "so perfect". Climax is rewarded with praises, hands stroking up arms and down backs, and "I love you"s are slurred through dropped fangs and traded back and forth between kisses

But as expected, finally having sex doesn't magically make Derek love himself. It's still a long road. Because even if Derek doesn't completely hate his life anymore, there are those hard days where he still has problems with 'being Derek'.

And maybe one day Derek will learn to love the body he lives in.

Until then, Stiles will just have to love it for him.

[bee-tee-rus]

MML AU where King Pistachion is a single dad going on a T/indr date with you and Derek keeps fucking shit up:

(press "Keep Reading" for the fic)

Your legs bounce with anticipation. You tie the 50th knot out of the paper sheath that your straw came in, now noticing how strong it-- oh! Nope, it finally tore. Broken out of your daze now, you take a look around the little sandwich shop that you sit alone in, wondering when your date will show.

Online dating isn't really your thing, due to the countless articles and stories you've sunken time into reading, giving your paranoia a whole 'nother level of paranoia. But it really can't be that bad, right? You are hyper aware or any potential danger, so it all should be fine.

Some minutes pass, and you just got back to your seat with a Pistachio latte. You laugh to yourself, remembering that the guy's screename who you are supposed to meet was... "King Pistachion". He didn't look like your typical human. In fact, dude didn't look human in the slightest. Like some hot sexy monstrous treeman. Hey, there's a first time for everything! You pat your pocket to be sure you brought tweezers-- in case of any splinters.

RING! The door opens after what seemed like an eternity and you are 99% sure that the being who came through is him. I mean, how many men made of wood really live around here... Actually, that's a great question and you'll look into that later.

The tree man swivels his head and squints his eyes as he looks around the room. I lock my eyes onto him, yet remain silent as he surveys the room. I can't help but feel a bit intimidated. Once he turns my way and meets my gaze, I flash a weak smile and wave. He straightens up, nearly missing the ceiling as a huge smile forms across his face. The man comes forward and then I realize just how much taller he is than I. If this date gets far enough... I wonder how THAT will play out? I shake those unwanted thoughts away.

"H-hi, I'm Anon. Um from the uh... The app." God, why are you nervous?

"I know, as soon as those gems glistened my way, they drew me in... Anon~" the man says with smoothness as he kneels down and grabs your hand, his large stick thumb caressing the top of your hand in a seductive way.

Oh God, he is laying it on a little too thick.

"Uh..." You pull your hand away, feeling awkward from the sudden gesture. "Here, let's sit down and maybe talk some first, kinda get to know each other?"

"Ha ha yes, my little berry. Here... Let me--"

"AH!"

Suddenly, you are light on your feet. In fact, you aren't even on your feet anymore! This man had the audacity to pick you up and carry you bridal style to your seat. Sir, this is a Jimmy John's. He pulls out your chair with one hand and gently sits you down, then goes over to his seat and plops down in it. He leans his chin on his clasped hands as he leans forward to give you his undivided attention. What is with this guy? It seems like he is wanting to get to the good part already, like slow down!

"Haha... " You chuckle nervously, not knowing how to react to his chivalrous antics. "So... Is 'King Pistachion' your real name?"

"Yes."

"Really? No really?"

"Well I suppose if I had a human identity, I would go by 'Pcarl'. The 'P' is silent."

His face looks proud of his swift answer to you. The gears in your brain start turning and churning. There's not a single 'P' in 'Carl', what is he... ? Whatever, you won't question his logic for now.

"Okay, Pcarl..." You look the strange man up and down, not really feeling the name. You get the strong feeling that he just made that up on the spot. "Can I call you KP?"

"If that's what your heart desires, little berry~" he purrs out as he flashes a wink in your general direction.

You let out a sigh and try your best to reel the tree man back to square one with you.

"Anyways, KP, tell me a little about yourself. What do you do for fun? What sorta job do you do?"

"Oh you know. Terraforming foreign lands with my bountiful seed to grow my fiersome army of Pistachion soilders so we can rule this dying planet."

A smirk forms on his face as he leans back with his arms crossed.

With a strained poker face, you can only bring yourself to respond with a repeated question.

"... And for work?"

"Terraforming foreign lands with my bountiful seed to grow my fiersome army of Pistachion soilders so we can rule this dying planet."

Hm, so he's pretty much a Line A to Line B guy. You are uncertain whether you should feel threatened or not. Your thoughts get cut off when you hear an adult male voice boom through the restaurant.

"DAAAAAD! DAAAAAD WHERE ARE YOU?"

The whiny voice feels as though it is being focused towards us. KP lets out a grumble, face palming and muttering something under his breath. You can only make out a, "Not now" due to the Ed Sheeran music drowning out miniscule sounds. King Pistachion lifts up a finger to you as though he is motioning you to hold on, stands up and turns to face the door where the voice came from. He inhales as his eyes close and brows furrow, then responds.

"What now, Derek? Daddy's busy with 'business'!" KP holds out his hands towards you. So you are a business matter now? You would feel offended, yet the curiosity of this situation keeps you quiet as you become the onlooker of whatever is about to transpire.

This "Derek" was smaller in size compared to his father, being the size of a human adult male. He kinda had a BioShock thing going on with his fashion, with the top hat and tailcoat combo. He stuck some resemblance to his dad, except for the chiseled features of his face. You would think this guy could be a model or something.

"You said you would be quick and it's been 5 hours already!" Derek says with exasperation.

"Derek, stop being so dramatic. I've only been in here for 10 minutes and was this close you getting you a mommy" KP hisses as he presses his index finger against his thumb to emphasize how close he was to--

"What? I never agreed to anything like-- Is that why you have been so flirtatious from the get-go?" You can't believe that this guy really thought that it would take a mere day of cheesy romantic antics to get someone to just marry him.

"It was going so well, I could see in your eyes that your heart began to call out to me." He turns his head to you and looks a little smug, as though he truly believed this date was going great.

"I don't want a new mom! I'm happy with the one we got at home" Derek stomps his foot to assert his belief.

"Your 'mom' is a heat lamp, that's not a mother. That's a machine that aids. We need the touch and love of a real being, especially for when I'm busy with my plans."

"Her name is 'Laura' and you would know that if you ever came home and spent time with us!"

You are assuming that the heat lamp 's name is Laura. It's a bit hard to follow this conversation, yet you try your best since it involves you in the mix. Derek begins to walk towards the table and stands in front of you, rubbing his chin as he thinks.

"How old are you?" He asks as he narrows his eyes, making sure that you do not lie to him.

"30?"

He huffs as he throws his arms up and spins around to walk away. Derek begins to become as boisterous as he was before.

"Really, Dad? They're not much older from me or your other kids! That's like you're dating my siblings or something!"

"Don't be disgusting, Derek. It's not like that at all, get over it!" King Pistachion 's tone is now becoming more impatient at how his son is publically judging him around strangers. Something flat and green grows from the bush on his head, he reaches and picks it off. Wait, is that... Did he just illegally grow cash?

"Here's $50, just-- PLEASE, go find some entertainment and let Daddy finish business."

The steamed tree man towers over his son, holding out the totally legal cash for Derek to accept. A few seconds pass and Derek silently snatches the cash and leaves. Kind Pistachion lets out a heavy sigh of relief and dusts his hands, sitting back down and his face quickly transforms from anger to... Oh he's gonna keep trying, isn't he?

"So... Anyways, have you ever lay with a man of lumber?" His eyebrow raises as he leans forward, doing his best (and failing) to woo you.

"Uhh... "

"YOU KNOW I SPRINKLED WEED KILLER ON YOU IN YOUR SLEEP SO YOU CAN'T MAKE BABIES!"

This time, you did not hear the door open but you recognize the voice. It's Derek once more, only this time he is holding a yellow dog. You hear the chair scoot and look to find King Pistachion looking horrified. Is this man afraid of dogs?

"D-Derek, put that thing away now! You don't know what you're doing!" KP shakily says as he presses his back against the wall.

Derek chuckles as he pets the blissfully unaware dog that he carries.

"Oh I do know what I am doing, father..."

He puts his hands under the dog's arms and holds it up and far from him, Lion King style. The smile of Derek fades, his head tilted down with his brows furrowed, causing dramatic shadows on his face.

"I just gave this dog a full bowl of water and cranberries... He hasn't relieved himself yet. Now if you don't piss off from this pointless date and take me home..." Derek pats the dog's belly and a swoosh of fluids can be heard. "Then I'll have no choice but to piss you out of here."

What the hell is going on? Without a peep, King Pistachion stands up and heads towards the door. He seems cautious as he passes the airborne pup, squeezing his large frame by his son and through the exit. Derek has a prideful grin, puts the dog down and goes to follow his dad into the parking lot.

You are now out of your seat and rush to the window. You want to see what sort of vehicle these two travelled in. What exactly are these beings? Are they aliens? A science experiment gone wrong? Surely, something like them wouldn't be driving something so basic, right?

Wrong.

Why are you surprised? KP and his son enter a dual colored PT Cruiser, the top half being a pale green while the bottom half is a pale yellow. Ha, it's a PisTachio Cruiser. From here, you can vaguely make out both of their expressions from the car. King Pistachion wears a look of irked defeat and Derek has the smile of someone who got their way. The car drives off and now you are just sitting alone in the shop, not wanting to even finish your pistachio coffee.

"I don't think I like pistachios anymore."

[invisible-storyteller]

"Stiles." 

It's the only greeting the sheriff offers to his son, and Derek can just about hear the many emotions behind that one word: exasperation of having expected his son's appearance, the annoyance of knowing that Stiles won't let it go so easily, and resignation at the simple fact that Stiles's involvement is unavoidable.

Derek knows how loaded that single word can be, he uses it on a near-daily basis. 

"What? I'm just here to help!" Stiles defends a bit too hastily for it not to be suspicious, "We both know that you caught the wrong guys this time and I'm here to clear their names."

"Stiles, the station is already investigating the case. Please, just go home."

It was a weak attempt from the sheriff and he probably knows it too, so Derek gets comfortable beside Chris Argent as he waits for the father-son dispute to unfold. He can quite accurately imagine the scene as it plays out behind the cover of the office blinds, and pities Argent just a little bit for missing out on the free entertainment.

"Derek and Argent are still held hostage, which means that the station is doing a worse job than usual," Derek hears Stiles comment, and feels grateful that the two are behind closed doors.

"Are you insulting the work of my deputies?"

"Yes. Come on, you know I'll solve this case before lunch, so let's just skip this part where you play the overbearing parent until you get worn down and relent anyway, and just cut to the chase!"

"Stiles, I know how to do my job. That's why it's my job."

"But you know Derek! He couldn't hurt a fly! I mean, he's literally playing a buddy-cop show with his sworn enemy!"

"We're not enemies, right?" Derek asks Chris Argent who seems rather bored without the ability to eavesdrop.

"I thought we've officially entered our partners-in-crime phase," Chris says with a straight face as he gives the cuffs a little jiggle, but it doesn't seem like he's picked up the ongoing conversation behind them. "How long do you think before Stiles talks them into letting us free?"

"He's been arrested once." The sheriff points out inside his office.

"Yeah, because of me and Scott! Derek's an innocent lamb, we both know that. Heh. Lamb."

"I think maybe two minutes," Derek finally answers, but Chris has already lost interest.

"Stiles, Derek Hale and Chris Argent are the number 1 suspects in a murder case right now, so they are going to stay in custody until evidence proves otherwise."

"Okay, fine, but admit it, you just enjoy abusing your power."

"Or I want my son to finally admit something that he's kept secret for weeks now. Something I already know about him and one of our... defendants."

Derek hears the silence stretch on for a long moment while he buries his face in his hands and avoids Chris Argent's knowing smile. Maybe being friends with the man was a bad idea.

"I don't know what you're talking about, I have nothing to do with Chris Argent," Is Stiles's very belated comeback, and Derek groans. They are so busted.

"Stiles, son. You seriously think I haven't figured it out?"

"Why do you want me to tell you something I don't know if you know I know you know I don't know about what you know?"

Derek thumps his head against his palms once more, and Chris Argents pats him on the shoulder in solidarity. Too bad there's also amusement rolling off the older man in waves.

"Well, if Derek Hale doesn't have an alibi-"

"Okay, just for the record, I can't provide an alibi, but I might have proof he didn't do it."

Derek pictures the sheriff raising a lone eyebrow and Stiles fumbles for his phone as he seals their death sentence. 

Then Stiles plays the voicemail.

"Dammit, Stiles! Is not answering your phone a contagious disease? I'm at the abandoned hotel with Argent and I think we found the hag's hideout, and NO, do not come after me! I don't care if you- wait... I can hear a heartbeat... I think it's Parrish... Fucking hell, Stiles! I told you we should tell your dad, but nooooo, you wanted to live out your forbidden love fantasy... I hope you're ready to get reacquainted with your right hand cause there is no way-"

The message cuts off abruptly and there's a pregnant silence following it. Argent doesn't say anything, but he does give a pitying look to Derek which roughly reads: "Well, one of us is certainly getting locked away".

"Derek did nothing illegal," Stiles speaks hesitantly, "Either at the crime scene or...you know... my bedroom." 

The sheriff groans, and Derek contemplates just tuning out of the conversation at that point, but he would also pretty much like a heads-up if his boyfriend's father plans to storm out of that office and play Duck Hunt with Derek's head.

"This case... Is this gonna be one of those things that we don't talk about?" The sheriff asks tentatively, and Derek knows he's not referring to their villain-of-the-week. It gives him a sliver of hope.

"Does this mean you'll... let him off the hook?" Stiles asks back, and Derek waits outside with bated breath while the sheriff mulls the deal over.

"For now."

Chris Argent doesn't chuckle, but a similar enough sound leaves his mouth when Derek sags back against the bench in relief.

The door opens a few seconds later and Stiles saunters out proudly, giving Derek two thumbs up that the sheriff wisely ignores. The boy then approaches Parrish with the obvious intention of getting him in on the child-abducting hag issue, and Derek rolls his eyes when the young deputy spots both his handcuffed wrist and the sheriff's pained look and bursts out laughing in front of the entire station.

"That boy will be either your doom or your saving grace," Chris Argent notes off-handedly and Derek huffs.

Make that both.

AU: Derek didn’t do anything wrong, okay?! He just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. And Chris Argent happened to be there too. Okay, so maybe Derek didn’t have a good excuse for this one but he’ll manage. Somehow. Unless, of course, Sheriff Stilinski figures out Derek is dating Stiles (who just had to come by the station right now). If this happens, spending day or two in jail might be the smallest punishment. Unlike, let’s say, being shot by the Sheriff. It’s all Stiles fault - Derek wanted to be introduced as his boyfriend months ago. Preferably during the dinner at the Stilinskis’ house. Not at the freaking police station when he’s handcuffed to a bench. For something he didn’t do. Derek hates his life.

[vole-mon-amour]

6x16.

This cuteness, awww. It's nice seeing Aaron's routine. Apparently, he even has breakfast in his uniform already, this workaholic.

I was about to complain that there wasn't a single mention of Spencer's headache in the previous episode, but I'm glad he finds familiar ways to learn more about this.

Smiling David?? In casual clothes at work??? Playing playstation 4 pro??? Sorry for being a hoe on main but I want him as my dad, i want him as my boyfriend, i want him as my best friend, I want to play with him, too, I— He makes me so happy, it's ridiculous. Whoever decided that David is not into tablets, smartphones, social media, but into pop culture, video games, writing, and into profiling and serial killer is the galaxy brain, I swear. Like, a chosen activity to unwind in his free time: writing books about serial killers and playing video games. Give me this man.

I can see this a thousand times & I'm still gonna feel excited about Aaron and Dave sitting next to each other, especially at work. Meanwhile, Aaron is in his usual uniform while David still wears a t-shirt and a quarter zip. *dreamy sigh* Husbands. Their domestic routine must be so interesting to watch.

Sewer is so weak. Trying to hit on Spencer without actually being interested in his personality, his interests, and what he has to say. If you're not interested and/or not ready to listen, don't fucking ask. Spencer was so confused, and she just turns away smiling after literally acting like a jerk. Huh??

Anyway, Spencer is so relatable in so many ways. I love him.

And she hates to say it, lmao. An autistic 10 y.o. arranging his parents being severely injured and then kidnapping them? Do you ever think when you speak? Get fucked, Seaver.

My heart :(

How can Derek be a profiler and not connecting this? I was about to say that Aaron is a good dad when Aaron told that himself. I'd say this is a cat, but this dad knows better.

Spencer talking about autism makes me feel things. I'm so glad this episode exists.

This wonder boy is so pretty.

[queen18xo]

Sterek request: derek turns stiles into an omega werewolf

I wasn't too sure what to do with the Omega part, so have Derek turning Stiles into a wolf, I hope you enjoy it :)

Stiles crumples to the ground, his wide eyes locked on Derek's as his knees buckle, his hands pressing tightly to his stomach, his stomach rolling with nausea as blood seeps between his fingers, the sticky fluid hot beneath his hand as he tries to compress the wound.

"Stiles", Derek howls brokenly as he rushes to his side, the pale teen sucking in a wet breath, his eyes fluttering open groggily with a weak, pained groan as Derek pulls him into his lap.

"H-hey sour wolf", Stiles manages to choke out between ragged, wheezing breaths, "I saved you", he slurs, his weak chuckle turning into a spluttering cough, drops of crimson staining his pink lips.

Derek shakes his head with a choked chuckle, his eyes shining wetly, "you idiot, you fucking idiot, you're human, Stiles", Derek bites out, his voice cracking with emotion as he cradles the sluggish teen in his lap. "I-I can't let you die", he breathes out sorrowfully, holding Stiles to him desperately, his heart constricting in his chest as he gazes down at the deathly pale teen in his arms.

"It's okay, Derek", Stiles slurs, weakly patting the alphas cheek, his fingertips leaving a red smear against Derek's skin as his hand falls away limply. "I-it doesn't hurt", he breathes out, his expression worryingly serene as his glassy eyes stare up at the wolf, a sad smile twisting at his lips. "T-tell my dad-" Stiles splutters, struggling to catch his breath, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth.

"No - no, tell him your damn self, I'm not letting you die", Derek bites out, grinding his teeth, a pit forming in his stomach as he makes a split-second decision. "I hope you forgive me", he mutters quietly, a broken note to his deep voice.

Derek raises Stiles' limp arm to his mouth, shoving the sleeve of his hoodie up to his elbow, sucking in a steadying breath as he squeezes his eyes shut. "I'm sorry", he murmurs as his jaw closes around the teen's forearm, Stiles whimpering as he weakly twists in Derek's hold, the wolfs lengthened canines tearing into his soft flesh, his eyes flashing red as the metallic tang of Stiles' blood coats his tongue cloyingly.

A tear escapes Derek's eye as Stiles falls limp in his grasp, the teen's eyes rolling back as his heavy eyelids flutter shut, Derek's enhanced hearing barely making out the weak, thready thump of the teen's heart. The alpha scoops Stiles into his arms, stumbling to his feet with the teen cradled protectively against his chest, trailing home with single-minded determination.

He pushes into the loft, careful not to jostle Stiles' limp body in the process, dropping his gaze to the floor guiltily as he finds the sheriff pacing anxiously in the middle of the lofts open space. "I-is he-" the sheriff croaks, his voice cracking as he stands rooted to the spot, his eyes locked on Stiles' limp frame hanging from Derek's blood-stained arms, his pale, mole dotted face splattered crimson.

Derek hugs Stiles to his body tightly, fighting down a sob as he stumbles to the couch, his body feeling heavy with fatigue as he tenderly situates Stiles on the sofa, carefully brushing his messy hair from his clammy forehead.

The alpha drops to the floor beside Stiles' prone form, his knees buckling beneath his weight, a ragged sob tearing from his chest as he drops his forehead against the sticky material of Stiles' hoodie covered arm.

Derek sucks in a harsh breath as he feels the sheriff at his back, Johns hand curling around the wolf's shoulder with a comforting squeeze, "what happened, son?" he inquires unsteadily, dread pooling in his stomach, his voice wavering with unnamed emotions.

The wolf reluctantly turns away from Stiles, his back dropping heavily against the sofa pulling his knees up to his chest as he blinks up at the sheriff from beneath wet lashes. Derek's startling vulnerability causing a pang in the Sheriffs chest, the grim set of his features reminding John of the night of the Hale fire. "Hunters cornered us", Derek breathes out, burying his head in his hands, his fingers twisting tightly into his dark hair, streaking blood through the messy strands.

"H-he pushed me out of the way, I-I wasn't quick enough, I couldn't do anything", Derek sobs brokenly, his chest constricting as the words spill past his lips. He reluctantly drops his hands, his hazel eyes shining with moisture as he looks up at the stricken sheriff, "I-I bit him", Derek confesses guiltily, his voice barely more than a whisper, the words tasting sour on his tongue.

The sheriff exhales shakily, steadily holding Derek's gaze, the wolf's broken expression reminding the sheriff of his age, sorrow swelling in John's chest as he looks down at the younger man, "did it take?" he questions cautiously, crouching down in front of the grief-stricken wolf.

Derek falls silent, squeezing his eyes shut as he focuses his hearing, a relieved breath falling from his lips as he concentrates on the now steady thump of Stiles' heart. "It's taken", Derek breathes out, his relief evident as he meets the sheriff's gaze.

The alpha startles as John's arms wind tightly around his blood-splattered frame, tugging the wolf against his chest in a desperate embrace as he exhales raggedly. "Thank you, thank you for saving my boy", he sobs, desperately clinging to Derek as the alpha returns the embrace stiffly.

"He'll be a wolf", Derek mutters guiltily, his fingers curling tightly into the material of the sheriff's jacket, relaxing into the older Mans hold as he rests his cheek against John's shoulder.

"I don't care; he's alive, that's all that matters", John breathes out, pulling away from the embrace. His fingers curl around Derek's shoulders, holding the wolf at arm's length as he searches Derek's gaze intently. "Will you take care of him?" The sheriff questions seriously, quirking a brow at the wolf.

"Always, he's pack", Derek admits without hesitation, a slight flush colouring his cheeks as he averts his gaze from the sheriffs, complex emotions swirling in his hazel eyes.

John chuckles throatily, " I'm not thrilled about the age gap", the sheriff groans, shaking his head long-sufferingly, smiling warmly as Derek's startled gaze snaps to his. "Tell him, son, the only thing I regret is not having more time with Claudia, don't make that mistake", the sheriff advises sadly, a wet sheen to his eyes as he holds Derek's gaze.

Derek opens his mouth, a response on the tips of his tongue, his words promptly forgotten as a sharp gasp sounds behind him, the wolf twisting around, hovering over Stiles in an instant as the teen's eyes snap open. "Derek?" Stiles slurs groggily, his features twisting in a pained frown as he shifts uncomfortably on the sofa, wincing at the uncomfortable burning sensation in his side.

John perches on the sofa's arm, smiling down at his son, concern etched into his aged features. "Hey, buddy, how're you doing?" the sheriff questions softly, reaching out to squeeze Stiles' leg affectionately.

Stiles groans, his head throbbing violently as he squints up at his father, his body aching and his stomach twisting with nausea. "Rough", Stiles croaks, wincing at the dry scratch of his throat as he tries to speak.

Stiles tilts his head to the side, meeting Derek's gaze, guilt shining in the wolf's hazel eyes, a confused furrow forming between Stiles' brows, "h-how am I awake right now?" Stiles manages to ask hoarsely.

The sheriff hides a smile behind his hand as he rubs it over his tired face. "I'll get you some water, kiddo", the sheriff interjects, offering Derek a sympathetic smile as he swiftly slinks out of the room.

Derek allows himself a moment to collect his thoughts as he lingers above Stiles, his fingers trembling as they curl around the stained him of the teen's ruined graphic tee, gently pulling the shirt from where it sticks to Stiles' skin.

Stiles hisses as the stiff t-shirt pulls at his fresh wound, his eyes widening as Derek uncovers the sluggishly healing injury. "D-Derek", Stiles breathes out weakly, his trembling fingers curling around the alpha's hand, stilling his movements, his heart pounding frantically in his chest as Derek's apologetic hazel eyes meet his.

Derek ducks his head, pulling his hand from beneath Stiles' "I couldn't watch you die", he confesses, his voice thick with emotion as he avoids meeting Stiles' gaze. "I-I'm sorry", he mutters, raking a hand through his matted hair, his hearing attuned to the steady thumping of Stiles' heart.

Stiles exhales shakily, his stomach twisting uncomfortably, "I-I'm-" he tries, breaking off with a pained hiss as he prods at the jagged edges of his healing wound, the flesh hot beneath his wandering fingers.

"A wolf", Derek finishes for him, his large hand curling around Stiles' wrist loosely, tugging the teen's hand away from the angry red gash marring his side. "Don't do that", Derek reprimands softly, shaking his head as the teen rolls his eyes, the familiar gesture causing Derek's chest to swell with affection.

"Does this make me one of your puppies now" Siles questions with a mockingly serious expression, unable to conceal the amused twitch of his lips as a startled laugh spills from Derek's lips, the alpha settling the teen with an unamused glare.

"Not sure I like you enough", the alpha huffs gruffly, ducking his head under the teen's scrutiny, his gaze falling to where his hands curled around Stiles' wrist, his thumb absentmindedly grazing the underside of the teen's wrist, Stiles' pulse thrumming beneath the digit.

"I don't believe you", Stiles rumbles thickly, his tongue darting out to wet his dry lips, groaning as he shifts to sit up, resting back against the sofa's arm, frowning as Derek's lingering hold on his wrist disappears. "Why did you save me?" Stiles inquires, his heavy gaze trained on the alpha as Derek forces himself to meet Stiles' intelligent honey brown eyes.

Derek swallows thickly, fighting not to shift under the intensity in the teen's unique eyes, "I couldn't lose you", Derek admits quietly, exhaling shakily as he laces his fingers with Stiles', the teen gasping audibly as Derek brings Stiles' pale hand to his mouth, his soft lips grazing the teen's knuckles. "I can't lose you, Stiles, I-I love you", he confesses hoarsely, peering up at the teen through dark lashes.

"Derek", Stiles breathes out breathlessly, his plush lips parting on a surprised breath. He leans down studiously ignoring his wound, twinging in protest, using a fingertip to tilt the wolf's head up, "I love you too, you idiot", Stiles professes, his eyes boring into Derek's intently as his soft lips graze Derek's in a tender, chaste kiss.

Derek exhales shakily against Stiles' lips, curling his hand around the teen's nape, his fingers tangling in the soft hair at the base of his neck, his tongue licking at the seam of Stiles' lips.

Stiles gasps into the kiss, allowing Derek's tongue access, the wolf expertly exploring the velvety heat of Stiles' mouth. The duo springs apart, their startled gazes snapping to the sheriff as the older man clears his throat pointedly, "nice as this is, he's still my son", the sheriff warns gruffly, rolling his eyes as Derek flushes, Stiles spluttering inaudibly as he gapes at his father.

"Pops", Stiles groans, burying his face in his hands as the sheriff settles on the edge of the couch, cackling loudly, the glass of water shaking in his grasp.

"Drink your water, kiddo", the sheriff urges as he presses the cold glass into Stiles' hand, the teen rolling his eyes in response as he sips cautiously at the cold beverage, sighing in relief as it soothes his scratchy throat.

Stiles smiles around the rim of his glass as Derek's thumb traces gentle circles above his pulse point, "you two are sickening," the sheriff jokes, jostling Derek's shoulder affectionately as he ruffles Stiles' hair, the teen batting him away with a squawk, huffing as Derek's lips quirk up into a bright smile, the alpha humming contently as he meets Stiles gaze.

[thebigoblin]

Ohhh, for the headcanon post, can I ask for enemies to lovers? It's a weakness of mine.

Hii!!!

Hmm, Enemies to Lovers is a famous trope... but it's not my fav :P so if this is not good I'm sorry!

[send me an au!]

I'm going complete AU on this one btw!! No supernatural, full human :P

Derek Hale and Stiles Stilinski are six years apart in age.

Derek is blessedly unaware of Stiles' existence for the first eleven years of his life. But then. Cora starts school.

It's a big deal. Cora is the baby of their house (even though Uncle Peter and Uncle Chris' twins, Malia and Jackson, are a whole month younger than Cora) and Derek just wants Cora to go off to School so that his parents can stop crying. Seriously. He remembers them when he was sent to school, and he didn't even want to go! His parents were smiling at him. But with Cora? They're crying.

They're laughing (and scolding) when Cora tells them how she met this boy with a strange name (she hit him with her ball, and when he didn't cry like a baby, she immediately decided that he was her best friend).

Derek meets the boy—Stiles Stilinski; who even names their kid that?—on Cora's fifth birthday party in November. He had previously managed to somehow not meet Stiles, but oh boy does he meet the kid now.

Stiles is rummaging through Derek's book collection when Derek goes to his room to escape the demons in his living room. Stiles has his hands on Derek's prized comic collection.

Suffice to say, Derek hates Stiles. Nobody touches his stuff! Nobody, not even his dad! And Stiles hates Derek because "he's a grumpy mcgrump Cora! I can't marry you with him in your family," "Don't worry Stiles, I'll make sure he isn't there when we marry!"

Derek is obviously concerned for his life after he hears those two whispering about marrying each other without him in the picture. Derek makes the executive decision of ignoring the two of them. Somehow, years have passed ignoring them.

Stiles is twelve when Derek goes to college in NYU, following in Laura's footsteps. Stiles is super glad; he hates Cora's brother. He's rude. He's snappy. He's an asshole. And he always steals Stiles' food.

Stiles is fifteen when Derek comes back from college for his twenty-first birthday. He has a girlfriend, Jennifer (Stiles remembers Paige, Derek's highschool girlfriend of three months. Stiles never saw her, but Cora says she sort of looked like him). (Stiles doesn't know, but Derek broke-up with Paige because Cora said the same thing to him).

Stiles hates Jennifer. She keeps making-out with Derek all the freaking time. And she's rude, and a bitch to everyone. She makes Cora almost cry. Literally everyone hates her, but Derek doesn't seem to care, too busy getting laid. Stiles hates him, more than ever.

Stiles makes a plan. By the time Derek goes back to NYU, he's single. Derek somehow knows Stiles was after this; he corners him, alone, and they have an argument that gets way more heated than it should. (Thankfully, no is physically hurt; but they've both always been too sharp, too bitter with their words, too cruel. They don't leave a single scar unscabbed).

Derek is so fucking frustrated, so wound up, that he loses himself in alcohol and women (and men; apparently that's a thing now). This goes on for a few years, and he doesn't go back home. Not once, not even when he gets a job; especially then. He doesn't want to see Stiles: that kid ruined Derek's best relationship because what, he couldn't take a few harsh words from Jennifer? [Derek doesn't know that she was like that with everyone, not just Stiles—aka misunderstanding #1]

Derek ends up getting a woman pregnant. The mother doesn't want the kid; the kid is completely Derek's responsibility, all at the age of 28. At least he has a good job.

Stiles, 23, is an FBI Agent (he was an honorary intern; Cora has to get her Bachelor Degree before she can apply, and still, it will take her another few years to become an actual agent [I'm not sure how many, but I'm going with 3 'cuz in this 'verse she is the coolest xD] They want to be partners).

Stiles rises the ranks like a pro. He gets the hardest cases done in a snap, and finds out that Chris and Peter aren't actually lawyers, but like, two of the top most secret agents. (That explains their extended absences and the decision(tm) to send their three kids (Allison, Jackson and Malia) to Boarding School).

Stiles needs to lay low for a while, after a case. New York seems like the best option, with so many people there, and because Stiles has never been there before.

He ends up stuck with Derek Hale. (Peter tells him to suck it up and stay). Derek is suspicious of course, because why would a lowly worker in an average company get such a long vacation? And why does Stiles keep lying about how he got these many scars on his person? (Derek has a good position where he works, and he has a... superior complex about it. Sorta).

Stiles is 28, Derek is 34, Derek's kid is 6. You can guess what kind of shenanigans ensue with a kid in vicinity who loves their aunt's Cora's best friend and two men who hate each other but are sexually attracted to one another :P

Some examples are: late night movie sessions because it's Saturday night and the kid ends up sleeping on both Stiles and Derek and the forced proximity is... filled with tension, to say the least.

Another is: Stiles getting hurt and Derek plopping him in the bathroom to passive aggressively help Stiles.

(Just realized I forgot to write this: Everyone thinks Stiles was fired from FBI for whatever reason, or something similar, because he is a Secret Agent. Ya know?)

Derek and Stiles grow close over the course of the three months that they stay under the same roof and both of them realize that the other is not who they thought they were.

When the kid is in school, a fight breaks out, and everything comes to light—except the fact that Stiles is still keeping a secret (his job) from Derek and that just... makes Derek angrier.

They're not enemies anymore, per se, but they aren't friends either. I don't know what they are, but whenever they think of each other, their skin catches on fire with the could-have-beens and what-ifs, while the reality douses that fire with its incredibly off-putting mistrust between them. (Derek trusts Stiles to take care of his kid, and Stiles knows that Derek would help him no matter what, even if he was covered in blood, but this mistrust is... something different. Deeper).

It takes a few more years before they both realize that this feeling isn't going to go away, and they decide to try, to work out what's between them. (People say the best kind of love can turn into the worst kind of hate—maybe the opposite of that is true, too).

Okay, yes, in the end I didn't know what to do... butttt I had plenty fun with this one :D @ineffablybookish I hope you like this?? And sorry if you don't, EtoL isn't a trope I'm all that familiar with.

[starbright18]

BATTLEFIELD - PART ONE

[TW: mentions depression and suicidal thoughts]

☾*✲⋆.☾*✲⋆.☾*✲⋆.☾*✲⋆.

"How are you doing, Margaret?" Ms. Morell asked softly, staring at me from the other side of her desk. 

"It's Margo," I corrected, twisting my hands nervously. 

"Right, I'm sorry," she nodded. "How are you doing, Margo?"

"Is there a right answer to this question?" I asked slowly, not bothering to meet her eyes. 

"Meaning?"

"Meaning...if I tell you I feel good, then I'm the heartless bitch who has no empathy for Matt's death," I sighed, flashing back to the images of them pulling Matt's body out of the creek near the sheriff's station. "If I tell you I feel bad, I'm the psychotic little girl who holds sympathy for a murderer. There's no way to win here."

"Why do you need to win?" She raised her eyebrows. "It's not a competition, it's a question." 

"You wouldn't even begin to understand how I feel," I murmured, moving to twist the ring that sat on my middle finger.

"You would be surprised at just how many emotions I could understand, Margo."

"You wanna know how I feel? Fine," I snapped, leaning forward in my chair. "I feel...guilty. Guilty that I never noticed just how right I was about Matt, guilty that I couldn't protect my friends and family in that sheriff's station, guilty that my friend's mother committed suicide and I wasn't there for her..." I sighed lowly, my heart slowly breaking for Allison. "And I feel guilty because of how I felt in that police station. How I felt about my life and everything in it."

"And what was it that you felt?"

"I...I wanted to die," I admitted. "I asked Matt to kill me, I pushed him, begged him. Because in my head, I'd be much better at protecting the people I cared about if I was dead. And—and don't tell me I have friends and family that would think otherwise," I shook my head bitterly. "Because I tell myself that too. But then I...I see the way they look at me. Or even the way they choose not to look at me."

"How do they look at you?" She asked softly. 

"Stiles, he—he looks at me with so much...pity in his eyes that it's overwhelming. Like he's so worried about me that it's all he can think about, and he's scared of what's happening to me. Derek, he looks at me the same way. He's a little better at hiding it behind his facial expressions but his eyes give it away every single time. My dad and Scott, they don't look at me anymore. We could be in the same room, in the same conversation, and it's like all they can do is focus their eyes on anything but me."

"Mhm," she hummed, nodding slowly. 

"And—and I just feel so...numb. So overwhelmed. So tired. I don't even know what to do with myself anymore. I haven't slept since that night because I'm too scared of what I'll see when I close my eyes, of what I'll feel. Because when I'm awake, it's different, you know? I can block off my emotions, my gut feelings, and my worry. But when I'm asleep...when my walls get forced down, it's all I can see. And I'm so tired of seeing those damn looks and of feeling that damn guilt that sometimes I wish I was dead, that I was the one they found in that creek instead of Matt."

"Ms. Stilinski—"

"I know. You're gonna have to tell my dad about what I said," I nodded slowly in acknowledgment. "Mandated reporter and all. Go ahead. Maybe he'll finally be able to look at his daughter."

"Actually, I was going to say that I'm worried about your sudden onset of depression. Have you been diagnosed?" She asked softly. 

"No, never," I frowned. "But what else do you expect when you're surrounded by death? I'm like a bad omen for my friends, always getting them hurt and trapped in bad situations...it's always my fault."

"Margo, I'm sorry..." She trailed off, sending me a weak smile. "I think it's time for me to make that phone call."

☾*✲⋆.☾*✲⋆.☾*✲⋆.☾*✲⋆.

The following evening, I dressed alone in the women's locker room for the State Championship game. The night prior, Ms. Morell had sent me home early after telling dad about her concerns. He pulled Stiles out of school for the day as well, citing that he wanted to have a family intervention. However, all we did was sit in silence at the dining room table for almost 3 hours. 

He started making calls right after, trying to find a doctor that could treat me. Little did he know, it was more than just depression. The darkness in my mind had fully taken over, leaving me unable to feel anything other than guilt. I wasn't sure if it was supernatural darkness or if I was just spiraling out of control after all of the bad things that occurred in my life, but either way, I was drowning in my own misery. 

I had to beg him to let me play lacrosse tonight, pleading that if he was going to send me away to get help then I at least wanted to enjoy my last game of the season. Reluctantly, he agreed so long as I agreed to get treated. I heard him and Stiles talking at the table long after I had gone to bed, discussing their fears about me ending my own life. Admittedly, that only made me feel worse. 

"Margo, sweetie," A feminine voice called across the empty locker room. "Are you dressed?" I recognized the voice and scent to be Melissa almost immediately. With a sigh, I slipped my shorts on and put my jersey on over my pads before settling on a bench. 

"Yeah, Mel," I called quietly. I could smell her nerves as she rounded the corner, stopping just before she reached me. I nodded down toward the bench inviting her to sit while I laced up my cleats. 

"Hey, honey," She smiled weakly, taking the empty spot next to me. "How are you feeling?"

"My dad told you, didn't he?" I sighed, not bothering to look up from my shoelaces. 

"He did," She nodded in confirmation. "But only because—"

"Only because he's worried about me."

"We all are," She corrected. "I—Margo, do you really feel like we would be better off in a world where you're dead?" I could hear the tears building in her voice at the thought. 

"Sometimes," I admitted quietly. 

"Oh, honey," She whispered. "I don't think I ever want to live in a world that doesn't have you in it. You may not be my biological child, but you're still my kid, and I...I don't know what I would do if I woke up and you were gone." My lip quivered and I drew in a shaky breath as she continued. "And your father, oh, God. You're his daughter...his only daughter. After your mother, you and your brother were the glue who held him together. If he had to lose one of you...I don't think he would survive it."

"I can't help it," I whimpered. "I just feel so...guilty and useless. It's like this darkness overwhelms my brain and all I can think about and feel is how completely and utterly fucked up I am. And how badly I mess up your lives, all of your lives."

"Margo, you made my life better," She wrapped both arms around me, pulling me into a bone-crushing hug. "Scott, he's my baby. And I thought I had everything I could ever need when he was born, but then you and Stiles entered my life and you filled a piece of my heart I didn't even know was empty. You don't mess up our lives, sweetheart. You hold our lives together."

"I'm so sorry," I sobbed softly, wrapping my arms around her as well. "I feel like I'm drowning. Like I'm screaming for help and nobody can hear me, nobody sees me. Like the only thing my head can feel, or think, or see is darkness."

"I know, honey," she whispered. "We're gonna get you some help. I—I think we need to get you out of town, yeah?"

"Yeah."

"The hospital is hosting a study abroad program," She pulled back slightly, locking her eyes with mine. "It's a summer abroad in France. You'll be taking some college credit courses for nursing over there. Not a lot, but it'll put you at only needing another semester before you can be an LPN, and 2 more after that to become an RN. Now, I have some connections and I can get you an application—"

"Thank you, Melissa," I breathed softly. "But it sounds expensive. Dad just got his job back, and—"

"It's covered by a grant, sweetie. All you would need is housing but there are several host families we can set you up with. Everything else is covered by a stipend. Now, I know you have the grades for it. And once you finish all of your semesters, you're guaranteed a job at the hospital so long as you maintain your grades. It'll take a lot of planning, but I can help—"

"Thank you so much, mom," I threw my arms around her, squeezing her tightly. 

"Of course," she whispered, hugging me back. "We'll talk to your dad about it tonight, okay?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Now come on, let's get you on that field so you can kick some ass," She grinned. Together, we made our way into the men's locker room where players were fumbling about, chatting, and preparing for tonight's tournament. 

"Good morning," Coach Finstock began his speech, speaking into a small handheld CB. "In less than an hour, aircraft from here will be joining others from around the world. And you will be launching the largest ariel battle in the history of mankind."

"What?" Melissa looked around in confusion, trying to figure out what was going on.

"Man-kind — that word should have new meaning for all of us today."

"What the hell is he talking about?" Melissa tapped Stiles on the shoulder.

"He does this every year," I smiled weakly. 

"Seriously?"

"Yeah," Stiles breathed in exasperation. 

"We are fighting for our right to live," Cheers broke out in the locker room. 

"Wait, is this—"

"Yeah, it's the speech from 'Independence Day'," Stiles nodded. 

"But as the day the world declared in one voice..."

"It's Coach's favorite movie," I informed Melissa, leaning closer to Stiles. 

"...We will not go quietly into the night!"

"He doesn't know any sports speeches?" Melissa asked, scrunching her face up in confusion. 

"Yeah, I don't think he cares," Stiles shrugged. 

"Today we celebrate our independence day!" I cheered loudly with the rest of the team, feeling the adrenaline hit me full force. 

"Well spoken, Coach," Gerard entered the room. Melissa tensed next to me and I frowned, wondering how she knew him and why he scared her. "I might have chosen something with a little more historical value, but there's no denying your passion. And while I haven't been here long, there's no denying my pride in having a winning team for this school. I know you'll all be brilliant tonight, even with only one co-captain leading you."

"What the hell?" I whispered softly, focusing my eyes on Scott. 

"Now, I'm your principal, but I'm also a fan. So don't think I'll be content to watch you merely beat this team. Get out there and murder them." Everyone's faces fell at Gerard's comment. My senses went into overdrive, trying to force their way out to address the threat. I closed my eyes and drew in a deep breath, focusing on my anchors. Protection. Guidance. Sacrifice. I pushed my abilities down, way down. 

"You heard the man!" Coach called out. "Asses on the field!" 

☾*✲⋆.☾*✲⋆.☾*✲⋆.☾*✲⋆.

"Your dad coming?" Scott asked Stiles and me while we sat together on the bench before the game.

"He's already here," I smiled softly, nodding my head back toward where dad and Melissa sat talking in the stands about the study abroad opportunity. I hadn't told Scott or Stiles, wanting to wait until I knew if I would be leaving before I broke the news. 

"You know what's going on?" Stiles asked quietly, referring to Gerard. 

"Not yet," Scott exhaled. 

"It's gonna be bad, isn't it?" Stiles glanced between Scott and me. "I mean, like people screaming, running for their lives, blood, killing, maiming kind of bad?"

"Yeah," I whispered. "I can feel it."

"I can too," Scott frowned. 

"Scott, the other night seeing my sister be held at gunpoint, begging for death and going dark, and—and seeing my dad get hit over the head by Matt, you know, while I'm just lying there and I can't even move, it just—I want to help, you know, but I can't do the things that you two can do. I can't..." Stiles admitted. I felt my heart break slightly at his confession and I wrapped both arms around him, squeezing him tightly despite his lacrosse pads. 

"It's okay, Stiles," I breathed softly. "You help us in so many more ways than you could ever know."

"We're losing, dude," He mumbled, pulling away from my hug. Coach Finstock appeared behind us making me jump in fright when he leaned over the bench.

"What the hell are you talking about? Game hasn't even started," Coach gave us a weird look. "Now, put on your helmet and get out there, you're in for Greenberg." He nodded toward Stiles.

"What happened to Greenberg?" Stiles asked incredulously. 

"What happened to Greenberg? He sucks, you suck slightly less."

"I'm playing? On the field? With the team?"

"Yes, unless you'd rather...play with yourself," Coach chuckled.

"Oh, I already did that today, twice." Stiles shrugged. I snorted in laughter before rising from the bench.

"Get the hell out there!" Coach shouted. Stiles scooped up his stick, clambering onto the field. Before I left, I glanced down at Scott who was staring intently at the ground. 

"I'm sorry, Scott," I whispered, kissing his forehead gently. "For everything." I left him no time to respond before I spun on my heel and raced to join my twin brother on the field. 

"My twins are on the field!" I heard dad shout from the stand, throwing his arm up in excitement. I grinned at Stiles through my face guard, excited that he was finally getting his moment. 

"Oh, dear God," Stiles mumbled. I began to reply but my ears caught a different conversation, narrowing in on Scott and Gerard. 

"Scott, can you hear me? Ah, you can, good. Then listen closely, because the game is about to get interesting. Let's put a real clock on this game, Scott. I'll give you until the last 30 seconds. When that scoreboard clock begins counting down from 30, if you haven't given me Derek, then Jackson is gonna kill someone." My eyes narrowed in on Jackson who was face to face with a rival player. 

"So, tell me Scott, who's gonna die tonight? Should it be your mother, who so bravely came out to support you?"

My eyes wandered over to Melissa who was nervously looking over the players on the field.

"Or the sheriff, your girlfriend's father?"

Next, they fell on dad who sat next to Melissa, smiling proudly at Stiles and me. 

"Or how about the pretty little redhead who managed to survive the bite of an alpha?"

Lydia joined the crowd, smiling nervously when she sat next to Melissa who met her with a bright smile. 

"Or maybe one of these innocent teenagers with their whole life in front of them?"

Stiles stood next to me, shifting nervously while he processed the weight of his position within the game. 

"Or should I do everyone a favor and kill that ridiculous coach?"

Coach Finstock was sat on the bench, chewing nervously on his nails. 

"Or I can go ahead and put an end to your Romeo and Juliet story and kill Margo?"

I took a deep breath, scanning over the faces of my pack. 

"It's up to you, Scott. But you are going to help me take Derek down. Because if you don't...I'll have Jackson rip somebody's head off right in the middle of the field and drench everyone you love and care about in blood."

The whistle blew, leaving me no more time to think. 

Protection. Guidance. Sacrifice.

Protect.

Protect them all.