#and it was through derek hale that i actually attempted to stop the first time

[thebigoblin]

On The Dance Floor

tags: Not Scott McCall Friendly, Inspired by a Song, Oneshot, Alpha Derek Hale, Derek Hale Loves Stiles Stilinski, Stiles Stilinski Loves Derek Hale, Getting Together, The Hale Pack 2.0, Fluff, Minor Sheriff Stilinski/Melissa McCall

a/n: found this in my drafts tagged as "complete." figured i'll post this as a lil weekend treat <3 so cleaned it up a bit. i'll post this on ao3 tomorrow ig. also, real enemy is giving fics a fucking title.

now you can also read this fic on ao3.

White, marble tiles are eaten up by his black, formal shoes, his movements a little hurried as he veers off another corner of this event hall, almost braining himself against the wall. He stops just at the right moment, curses his clumsiness, and continues walking down the empty hallway to the dressing room. Everyone else is already in the main hall, sitting on the chairs, and Stiles Stilinski was there only moments before, so he knows they're waiting for the ceremony to begin.

Except, his dad is getting cold-feet, and despite Scott's attempts at being normal around his soon-to-be stepfather, and being a shoulder to lean on, the cold-feet is getting worse. At least, that's what Derek texted him, a short, concise depiction of whatever the hell must be happening in the dressing room.

And he trusts the Alpha, so he's quick in his steps and quicker with his breaths when he does open up the door and finds his dad pacing around the decently-sized room, his suit on, and complemented by a look of absolute panic on his face.

Scott is standing off to the side, like he always seems to be these days, and he's on the opposite side of Derek, far from him, like he always was and always will be. Some people don't change, and Stiles has learned that through experience he would rather not repeat.

"Dad," Stiles says, and that's all it takes for the dam to break. His dad gives a quick glance to Scott, his once-favorite son, and then pulls both Stiles and Derek towards him, his hands a little sweaty with dread. His dad knows being close and talking low wouldn't make a difference, but it's the principle of the thing, and for one split second he wonders what 16 year old him would have thought of this fact, of Derek being his dad's chosen son, and him himself being this close to his dad. And Scott not even being privy to the beauty of this relationship.

"What if she doesn't want me to? I love Melissa, I do, but Claudia- I don't know. I had a dream yesterday, Stiles, and she was just, she was just there! Just sitting on the beach, where I proposed to Melissa, right where Melissa was sitting. Was that, like, one of your supernatural dreams? Derek, you must know something about these sort of things. I don't think she wants me to—"

Derek cuts him off with a firm, "She wants nothing but happiness for you." He gives Stiles a quick look, asking silently if this is okay, because out of the four people in this room he's the only who didn't actually know her when she was alive. Stiles nods, and Derek continues, and his dad hangs onto every word out of Derek's mouth. "Today is a big day for you, and you're nervous, and it's okay, John. That dream was just a way for your subconscious to show up — this isn't the first time you've had this thought, have you?"

"No."

"That's it. Nothing more, nothing less. Just your nerves."

Stiles smiles softly at his dad. "Mom loves you," he moves forward to bring his dad in for a patented Stilinski hug. His voice is muffled when he insists, "She loved you when she was beside you, and she loves you now that she's watching over you. And she loves Melissa, too. I know she'll be the one smiling the biggest when you say 'I Do,' today."

His dad holds on for a little longer, and Stiles knows he's holding back tears when his dad says, "Okay," with a rough voice. He pulls back, takes a deep breath, pats Stiles on the shoulder twice, the way he always does, and gives a wobbly smile to Derek. He says, "Thanks, son," to both of them before looking at himself in the mirror.

"You look amazing."

"I'm so glad Lydia's mom was able to modify your original suit into this," Stiles adds to Derek's compliment, and Derek nods, repeats the sentiment of his dad looking amazing.

Scott chimes in, too, and his dad gives him a small smile. The relationship with him is strained, and if it was any other day Scott wouldn't even be in Beacon Hills, but it's his mom's wedding day, too. Stiles allows this one day, and if he didn't, he can't really stop Scott from being here. This is his hometown, too. They have their differences, yes, but they also have a past, together and also not, stemming from this same town.

Stiles has no right to where Scott does or does not go.

Derek, on the flip side, with his red eyes and ancestral blood running through his veins, roots sprouting from this town's soil, has no such qualms. Derek and Scott share a past, too, and it defines their present more than anything else could have.

Stiles' dad says he'll be out in just a minute, can they wait outside please, and all three of them step out. Once the door is closed, Derek turns to Scott.

"When are you leaving?"

Scott is instantly angry. He has always hated Derek, no matter the truth. Logic was always Stiles' friend first and Scott's second, and without Stiles, Scott is just a ball of emotions being hit by the bat of daddy and authoritative issues.

Derek has a right to know. It is his prerogative. This is his land, his territory, his packmate's wedding. Scott was banished — run off, really, and now he's back. Derek has a right to know when he'll leave, irrespective of Scott's hesitation to tell him.

But, the years have done Scott good. Instead of yelling, making a scene, he takes a breath in. Stiles wonders what or who his anchor is, and promptly decides it's not something he cares to know. He watches Scott get himself under control, enough that when he speaks his voice is almost emotionless.

All or nothing. That was what Scott was, and still is. He's changed, but not really.

"Mom leaves for her honeymoon tomorrow, and I need to take stuff from home."

Derek raises his right eyebrow. "That's not an answer."

Scott gives a tight smile. "It is if you just learn to stop when you should."

Before Derek can say anything, Stiles is taking the two steps to stand right beside his Alpha, disbelief coloring his face and words as he lets out, "Are you seriously threatening him?"

Scott just looks at him. The look is unreadable. It hurts, this distance between them, when Stiles remembers fantasizing about being not two feet apart on a porch in their late, late years, drinking to the years and cheers they must have had in their shared lives. Derek shakes him out of that thought with a gentle touch to his hand, their arms trapped between their bodies, and he relaxes.

Derek looks at Scott. His eyes turn red, brilliant red, and he orders, "Leave by Wednesday afternoon."

Today is Sunday.

And his dad's wedding day. His dad, who chooses this moment to come out, looking much better, and happier, and assured. He looks at the scene in front of him, the three of them, Scott on one side, alone. Him and Derek, side by side, on the opposite side of Scott.

He claps his hands.

"Who is ready to cry today?"

*

They all cry.

The ceremony is simple, but beautiful. The whole town is here, the wedding off their Sheriff, and the nurse who is so lovely, so kind. They are an inspiration, they all murmur, Derek tells him; second chances at love are rare, and this is beautiful, and who knew there exists beauty in the depths of tragedy?

His dad cries when he watches Melissa come down the aisle, Ms. Martin on one side and Scott on the other. Her best friend and her son, and for once, Stiles doesn't mind Scott's presence.

Melissa is smiling, eye to eye, her wedding gown fitting her perfectly.

She stands in front of his dad and says, "Oh, John," with such reverence, it's hard to not cry. Stiles has to put his hand in front of his mouth, but it's futile. Derek, the jerk, repeats those words, the ones he is hearing from every corner of the hall, and by the time Stiles has a dad and a stepmom officially, he's crying happy tears.

Lydia hugs him and tells him now it's his turn to find her mom somebody, too, and he agrees, only half-listening to her. He's staring at the big, gigantic grin on his dad's face, a matching one on Melissa.

Everyone congratulates him and the newlyweds, and then it's food and chatter and toasts, and everyone is surprised when Derek gives the first toast instead of Stiles, and Scott is supposedly not giving one at all.

Derek's toast is short, but no less lovely. He calls John a great man, one with utmost patience, and of course Derek would find a way to make a dig at Stiles; he says he has no clue how John and Claudia had strength enough to be patient with Stiles around, and that perhaps it is that tenacity, that will, that has brought about the proceedings of today. Of not giving up, even when the world is stacked against you. Of staying strong, in the face of everything falling apart. Of falling apart but coming back stronger, steadier. Of finding love after all of that. And coming from Derek, of all people, it means a whole lot, and Stiles' dad hugs Derek post-speech tightly.

When they pull apart, Derek says into the mic, but with eyes on Stiles' dad, "She's just as proud of you as Stiles is. As I am."

And then it's his turn to give a toast, and he's not sure how he can outdo Derek; as he stands up in front of the mic, he realizes he doesn't want to.

He gives a few funny anecdotes of his childhood, of how his dad taught him to always have hope, because good people get good things, even if it takes long. And how Melissa was always there, a second mom to him right from the start, and how much he loves her and is glad she's still in his life, despite the years, despite the circumstances. The crowd gets intrigued at that, aware of the distance between Scott and his mom, and Stiles too; all of Beacon Hills knows about the rift, but only a hand few know the cause of it as well. So, for him to mention the distance, to publicly acknowledge it, is a big thing.

He moves right the fuck on, makes jokes and smiles and cries, admits he'll always miss his mom, but that he'd always hoped, deep in his heart, that when the grief becomes tolerable he'd be the one to make the two of them marry each other.

"You got there first," he jokes, "Had the ring all picked out even before I could start trying to convince you to ask her out. Honestly, that might have been the second best decision you've ever made." None of them have to ask what the first was. It's obvious; Stiles knows his mom's wedding ring sits inside his dad's shirt, on a necklace, his own beside it.

Melissa gives a toast, too. She reminisces the first time she met Claudia, how they became friends, and how, at the time, it was impossible to imagine a life without her.

Before her little speech, to everyone this was her and John's day, but it's clear to them now that it's not just that. To the newlyweds it's a promise to Claudia; Melissa's once best friend and his dad's first love. To be happy. To live.

There's more hugs, more cheers, the champagne popping, and a quick, impromptu speech by Scott, who was fuming at being outdone like this by not just Stiles, but also Derek.

His speech is not bad, per se. Angry jerks of his chin, wild eyes and noticeable pauses. It's not bad. It just looks bad in comparison.

Stiles will definitely rot in hell for finding this funny, but at least he won't be the only one. The whole pack is trying not to laugh, and Stiles has to hide his own in the lapels of Derek's suit, who in turn hides his laughter in Stiles' hair.

Stiles feels bad, once or twice. But Scott made his bed and he's lying on it.

And then, after that, there's the first dance. There's the open dance floor and little kids asking Derek sweetly if he'll dance with them. He's their favorite, and it's adorable, and Stiles takes a thousand pictures.

Derek is in a sharp suit, and the juxtaposition of him dancing with young children, in princess dresses and printed suits — one kid had a yellow, minion-print suit, and honestly, that kid, Darren, pulled it off well — all colorful to his black shirt, black blazer, and black pants, is just so...

Good.

Derek's whole face is lit up, the golden glow of the lights all around them putting him in an ethereal spotlight, his eyes soft, mouth curved up, and nose adorably scrunched as he tries to decipher the babbling of a two-year-old.

The mom of the kid comes to get the boy, profusely apologizing, but Derek just smiles and says it's okay. It was no issue, it's okay, no need to apologize at all.

"Right," she says, eyes flicking between Derek and Stiles. "I'll let you get back to your partner then." And it's clear she means him.

Derek doesn't correct her, and neither does he. She leaves, and in this corner of the room, it's just them now. Most kids are tired, now, and most guests have left. It's mostly just the closest friends of Melissa and his dad, and the pack, of course, who are here.

Derek turns to him, his eyes still soft, which somehow get more soft when he looks at Stiles. It takes his breath away, and he lets out a squeaky, "Let's dance?" He's almost 25, the "adult" age according to the internet, and he still acts like a high school kid with a fucking crush.

Derek just makes him feel that way.

Derek, who is going to be 30 in less than a week, the big decade, the big, bad wolf. Derek, who blushes, his cheeks pinkish red behind his stubbled face, and puts out a hand.

Stiles takes the offered hand, his heart dancing inside his ribcage. And onto the stage they go, to the applause of the pack, and his dad's, "Finally!"

Stiles blushes, too. It's just their luck to get on the floor when it's a slow dance song.

Derek wastes no time, like he can't think or he'll explode, and puts his left hand on Stiles' waist, his right on Stiles' shoulder. Stiles puts both his hands around Derek's neck, and the alpha leans into the touch. This, the blatant trust, the welcomeness of it, is what bolsters Stiles.

They move to the slow beat, their eyes on each other's like white on rice, and everything else just doesn't exist. It's just them, and only them. No one else exists, not when they do, this close.

They move closer still, their hips touching, their foreheads against each other's. Noses touching close.

"Hey," he says, and grins when Derek does.

"Hey," Derek says back, so close that Stiles feels in his bones the word shape itself in Derek's mouth.

The music changes, then, and Stiles recognizes this one from the very first beat of it. Of course he does. It's Derek's favorite song ever.

"Did you bribe the DJ to play Apocalypse?"

Derek laughs, a quick, short one, and Stiles watches the movement of it, the beauty of Derek Hale laughing. "What if I did?"

Before Stiles can say anything, the line, "kisses on the forehead of lovers," comes on, and Derek takes a step back, only to kiss Stiles on the forehead.

Stiles' breath stops in his throat. Derek closes the gap between them again, and sways them to the beat. Stiles just follows his lead, his face having stuck itself on an astonished smile, and by the time the song is over he's just hugging Derek, tight, close, forever and ever and ever close.

Derek hums the song right in his ear, and it's perfect, Derek's breath on him, his grip, his eyes on him.

Stiles takes a step back and just looks into Derek's eyes.

"Hey," Derek says softly. They don't need words. Just this, a moment to themselves, where nothing but them exists.

Stiles doesn't even have a clue what song is playing. All he hears is Derek. His unspoken trust and devotion, his soul half of Stiles', Stiles' own soul half of Derek's. Their mingling breaths, because they're still close, just a hair apart from being one.

"Hey," he repeats, and they're both moving forward, Derek's hands on Stiles' waist, his own around Derek's neck, and they kiss.

It's gentle and slow, like time doesn't exist, could never take from them, this moment infinite, their love defying the laws of the universe and stopping time.

Because this is it. This is love, theirs and theirs only, part of its definition somewhere in the noises Stiles is making, part of it in the way Derek is touching him, moving his hands around Stiles' body, up and down, up and down, caressing him close and closer still.

Because isn't that what love is? Finding meaning in another?

After what feels like a lifetime, Derek pulls back. "Your lips, my lips, apocalypse," Derek hums against his lips, and they're so close, one breath two beings close, Stiles feels the movement of Derek's lips against his.

He lets out a small laugh. Derek swallows it down with another kiss, this one urgent, and time stills, again. Nothing exists, but this, and this moment only. Them. Arms around one another, devouring lips, tight grip, closed eyes, and peace.

They pull apart, foreheads resting against each other's, and Stiles opens his eyes to Derek's soft gaze. On him, through him, for him. He smiles, takes Derek's hand in his, dislodging it from its previous position on Stiles' waist, and brings it up to kiss the open palm of this man, who is radiant in this moment, glowing, almost, with happiness.

"Best day ever," Derek says, and he hums only the tune this time, and this time, Stiles sings the lyrics.

"Your lips, my lips, apocalypse."

"We did think it would take, like, a severe life or death situation for you two to get your shit together."

The sudden reality of a third person existing, and slowly, the reality of them being in the middle of a public dance floor in front of people has them flinching and moving apart.

"Kind of glad that didn't actually occur," Lydia continues, unperturbed.

"Definitely glad," his dad agrees.

"I do prefer you two getting together on my wedding day instead of my ER room, actually." Melissa adds.

Derek and Stiles both stare at their pack — Lydia, grinning eye to eye, a wine glass in her hand. John and Melissa beside her, their hands clasped, laughing at Derek and Stiles' wide-eyed gaze. Isaac clicking a hundred pictures of them, Erica with her full-red lips and a plate filled with food. Boyd beside his wife, hand on her shoulder, and Jackson leaning against Danny, smirking at the two of them. Cora is looking at them, that Hale look of absolute mischief. Kira and Malia have probably gone home — and nope, here they come, with a...

"Is that a banner?" Derek asks, aghast, and Stiles is right there with him. Because that fucking banner reads STEREK WINS.

"What the fuck?"

Peter comes out from the shadows, and Stiles tries to be happy about the fact that his appearance surprised everyone else present too, not just him and Derek.

"Thanks for making me win the bet. Really appreciate the $5."

"Bet?!"

His dad answers his unasked question. "We all figured you two would get together sometime during our wedding. Maybe during or after. It was just a matter of when." He points to where Malia and Kira are putting the banner up, right beside the one that says, JUST MARRIED!!! "Most of us figured the week following today, but Peter, Lydia, and Kira are the only ones who doubled down on the day being today itself."

"We're going to share our anniversary!" Melissa exclaims, happy.

Derek and Stiles just stare.

Derek turns towards him. He cocks an eyebrow up. Stiles nods with quick movements of his head.

"We, uh, are gonna go," Stiles says to the hall at large. "Have fun with your... bet, I guess. Dad, Melissa, love you guys, the rest of you, fuck off." Everyone laughs.

"We'll talk about anniversary plans later, Melissa," Derek says, and Stiles finger guns at her before realizing how stupid it looks.

Luckily, Derek picks him up, fireman carry style, and swoops him away.

Stiles groans against Derek's back. "Doofuses. Serious doofuses."

"Us or them?"

Stiles thinks. "All of us," he decides. "All of us, Derek. How the fuck were we so stupid to wait so long to get together?" They don't need to really discuss it — the kiss was just a precursor. "And why the fuck do they have to be so... ugh."

"They're still laughing," Derek says, as if that would help. "Doofuses," he agrees.

And then they're in the Jeep, Derek's camaro probably to be taken home by Isaac, and they're alone and when Derek drops him gently on the seat, Stiles lunges up to kiss.

"You make me fucking feral," Derek admits against his lips, and hey, Stiles loves where this is going. "I love you."

The words are nothing, really, but an arbitrary combination of English lexicon. But there is a meaning it — so many touches, so many moments shared between the two of them. Time spent in presence or in thoughts. All of it, leading up to this. These three words that make Stiles giddy.

"I love you too, and we really were doofuses."

"Wanna be doofuses on my bed?"

"Do you even have to ask?"

Stiles speeds it out of the parking lot of the event hall, and they do, in fact, act like doofuses on Derek's bed.

They make-out, they throw down their clothes, and they pour out their hearts with every touch, every caress, every moan; they kiss and laugh and confess, touch and worship and love.

They map out each other's bodies and lean in, snuggle, and sleep.

If all apocalypses could be so lovely, it would be great, really.

[fuckingthefictional]

Hi! I would like a request about Derek from teen wolf, please. The reader is trying to approach him, taking care of him "because Derek is too busy taking care of the others", BUT IT'S BEING SO HARD because of all of his past. Derek and the reader argue one night because of the overprotective nature of the reader about him, and when she tries to leave the loft, completely upset with Derek, he tries to fix things between them. Could you do this with a lot of angst and, then, tons of fluff? Thanks!

Ignored

Pairing: Derek Hale x Reader

Warnings: Angst bbyyyy, and some fluffy goodness at the end, not checked over (so probably a crap ton of spelling errors)

A/N: hello hope you enjoy, sorry it took forever! I’m so busy with work, college and personal issues that writing has been put on the back-burner.

When the name Derek Hale was mentioned- one immediately thought of the broody, salty, sarcastic young man who lived by himself after the tragic Hale house fire.

Nobody would ever associate the name Derek Hale and caring. It just wasn’t in his nature. Because under no circumstances could Derek be remotely kind, caring or soft in any way possible.

That’s what people thought of Derek. But not you- or the majority of the pack for that matter.

Yes, you saw where others came from with their ideas and judgement (Derek’s lack of colour in his wardrobe obviously didn’t help either).

But to you when you heard the name Derek Hale, you immediately thought of the kind hearted man who would give up anything for the safety of his friends and family (as much as he claimed otherwise).

You knew him differently, you knew him like the back of your hand. You knew that his favourite food was Spagetti Carbonara without the mushrooms, that he didn’t like Coca Cola, that he secretly loved watching trashy tv shows like keeping up with the kardashians, and most importantly that he was running himself ragged.

He had bitten off more than he could chew when it came to helping everyone out. He was the one giving lifts and helping with homework and hosting pack nights, and handling Isaac’s nightmares, all of this happening at the same time as some supposed lizard creature being on the loose.

You had been ignored by Derek Hale for approximately 72 hours. Now this wouldn’t be bad if it weren’t for two things.

1. He wasn’t aware that he was actively ignoring you.

2. The idiot wasn’t your husband of 2 years.

Over 68 hours ago you hadn’t minded, you had even brushed the silence and distance off- knowing that Derek liked to have a little time to himself.

But when it hit the 5 hour mark of the 4th day, frustration and disappointment had begun to set in.

There was one more thing that made the whole situation worse. He was blatantly ignoring you- and only you.

It hurt. You could admit that to yourself easily without any qualms at all. It hurt.

Whether that was to do with the whole ‘mate’ side of things you didn’t know- all that you did know was that Derek Hale was drowning and he wasn’t going to swim until everyone else was okay.

-

Thud, thud, thud, creaak

“Der please sit down”

“I can’t. I gotta figure this shit out before the school finishes for the day.” Derek grunted from his spot in the middle of the room. His head firmly stuck in the thick, dusty book that he had been pouring through for the majority of the afternoon.

“Der please, take a break.” You pleaded with him, begging him to just stop for a second and relax.

“I can’t,” Derek murmured again, before he pivoted in his heel and walked away up the staircase.

His heavy footfalls retreated upstairs, the musty book still clutched in his grasp.

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you willed the tears in your eyes to stay put and to not roll down your cheeks in fat drops.

Why couldn’t you be enough for him?

-

The next plea came around 2 hours later, when you brought a bowl of homemade pasta and garlic bread up to Derek. Hoping that just maybe it would strike up a conversation, that maybe he would utter more than two short sentences to you.

“Babe- I made you lunch.” You elbowed your way into the room, balancing the bowl and plate in your hands.

“Just leave it on the desk.” He motioned to an empty slot on the overcrowded surface.

“I just thought that maybe we could have lunch together, have some time with each-other.”

“Y/N/N’s I would- but I have so much to do. Stiles and Scott are already on my ass about the damn lizard freak in town.”

“Der, you need to take a break.” You placed your hands on his shoulders. Instead of feeling them relax you could feel his muscles tense up.

Shrugging your hands off, he pushed the fresh plate of food away, “I can’t.” He spoke simply.

“But-“ you tried to object in protest, trying to plead with the broad shouldered man in front of you- hoping that maybe, just maybe he would come to his senses.

He did not.

“I said no Y/N.” Derek ground out, “I’m busy. Please for the love of God stop bothering me.”

The words stung you, causing you to stumble back in shock. Derek had a hard exterior, everybody knew that. But he had never spoken like that to you.

He had promised on your wedding day that he would always be kind, that he would be your biggest supporter and largest source of love.

But all those words felt like lies now. You felt alone, like an empty shell of yourself. Why couldn’t you just be enough?

-

Hours flew by, the watch on Derek’s wrist occasionally beeping to signify the new hour. If he were being honest- he had lost track of what the time was.

The only signifier was that Stiles, Scott and the others were in his presence- meaning it was at least 4pm

And judging by the sky outside of his office window, it was late evening, as the sky itself had melted from cool blues into a fantastic array of oranges and purples.

But besides the low chatters and bickering coming from Isaac and Stiles, the house felt almost too quiet.

There was no tv hum coming from the living room, no occasional flush or running of water from the restroom, no sizzle from food coming on the oventop, no sound of a page in a book turning. Nothing. Just silence.

“Hey Derek,” He looked up to see Scott staring at him, “Where’s Y/N?”

“Well-“

“Yeah, I haven’t seen her yet today.” Isaac chimed in.

“I’m not actually too sure.”

Derek was met with a sea of blank stares.

“I’m sorry- there’s a kanima out there roaming Beacon Hills, the very same kanima that is killing more people by the day. And you don’t know where your wife is?” Stiles asked incredulously, “Are you kidding me.”

“Well I’ve been so caught up on this research that I haven’t been spending as much time with her.” Derek attempted to defend himself.

“Derek, please tell me that you haven’t been ignoring your wife.”

Everybody had there eyes on him again.

“Well-“

There was an uproar of protests, all of which were yelling at Derek for ignoring and deserting his wife.

“You better find her Derek, before something happens and you regret it for the rest of your life.”

-

You really didn’t know how long you had been out here for. All you knew was that the night was closing in and the chill was setting in your bones.

But you didn’t want to go back to the loft, you honestly didn’t think you could handle seeing Derek after his outburst earlier.

The cold, damp ground soaked into your body- sucking all the warmth out of your body at a creeping pace.

The spot you sat in, hadn’t changed much since your first date with Derek. It was still isolated and it gave off the best views in Beacon Hills. Nobody knew about it but you and Derek.

Sighing deeply, you looked out over the viewing point- watching the tiny specks of light flicker in the distance. Every single light showed a different life that was being lived, each one with their own struggles. Beacon Hills was something else to say the least.

“I knew I could find you here.” A familiar voice broke your train of thought.

You kept silent, staring straight ahead, willing that your bottom lip wouldn’t start trembling and the flood gate wouldn’t open in your eyes.

“Look I’m sorry.”

You sniffed, still unable to look your husband in the eyes, “Are you though?” You briefly shut your eyes to stop any tears from breaking through, “or are you just saying that to get on my good side.”

You could feel Derek’s presence settle down besides your own. His breath creating little puffs of mist under the dark sky.

“I didn’t realise you were trying to help me, until it was too late and you’d left the apartment” He muttered, “It’s my fault, I should’ve taken your advice, I should’ve listened to you.”

You listened intently, knowing his words were sincere and heartfelt, “Why didn’t you listen to me then Der?” You responded bitterly.

“Because accepting help means showing weakness, and showing weakness is something I haven’t done since before the fire.” Derek’s voice was small now, “Before I met you, accepting help was off the table- I was a lone wolf, with no pack or family. And now I’ve found you and I’m desperate to not lose that again, I can’t lose you to this new threat in town- I can’t be alone again.”

Silence hung heavy in the air as your husband’s words set in. It made sense to you; why he was studying non-stop, why he had barely slept or ate.

It was apparent that while he was trying to protect his loved ones, he was also pushing them away in the process. That needed to change.

“You won’t be alone Der,” You lay your head down on his shoulder, “I promise that much- it’s you and me forever.”

“Through every supernatural event that happens in this town?”

You giggled softly, “Yes, and every single thing in between.”

[pretoriafics]

If I wasn’t a goddamn werewolf - Pt. 2

Hi! First of all, thank you for my first 100 followers !! I can't believe someone really likes all of that crap I write here haha! I really don't know about the future of these imagines, so let me know if you want a part 3 or something. So, I just posted it here because I really want to break your heart. Here it goes!

Seems like Peter and Talia just figured out why Derek's plan to keep away from you is bad. But unfortunately for you, Peter is the one who does something about it. Word count: 2.052 Pairings: Reader x Derek Contain: Pure angst!! Warnings: English is not my main language <3 TEEN WOLF MASTERLIST PART 1 | PART 3 Gif credits here

Talia had tons of things that made her respected in the supernatural community. However, one of her most meaningful abilities was her smartness. Well, she was convicted that Derek made the best choice when he left you. But then, after thinking about the whole situation for a few days, her judgment changed entirely.

"Do you really think Derek made the best choice about back away from that girl?"

Talia was driving, with Laura at the passenger's seat. The question arose so suddenly inside that silent car that Laura looks at her mom with arched eyebrows.

"Are you still thinking about (Y/N) and Derek's drama?"

"Why? Shouldn't I?"

"Uh, well..."

"I think if someone dangerous knows about her and Derek, she could be caught easily. She doesn't know anything about the supernatural, so she's easy prey."

Laura blinks her eyes repeatedly, still trying to fit herself in the matter who suddenly appeared into the car.

"Mom, wait, I just can't understand. What are you talking about?"

Talia breaths in and talk slowly.

"I think (Y/N) is Derek's weakness. If I was someone trying to get him or manipulating him, I would love them to keep away from each other."

Laura finally caught the point her mom was talking about.

"Because she would be defenseless and easy prey. Someone could use her to get to Derek. Oh. Gotcha."

"We should do something about it."

Laura arched her eyebrows with a soft smile on her face.

"C'mon, mom. If you want to meet her, just ask her for a dinner night. I know you're curious about her."

It was Talia's turn to let escape a soft smile.

"My curiosity about her is just a secondary matter to keep her close. The main one is her safety and Derek's as well."

Laura's smartphone rings in her hands. It was Cora.

"Laura, you and mom are near?"

"Yeah, we're just a few minutes home. We are just coming back. I know something happened just from hearing your tone of voice."

"It was Peter. Come quickly. God, Derek will kill him."

Reform the old Hale house would put everyone into an aim to the hunters. So, Talia did something not too evident and bought a new home - where the exact location was unknown by the hunters. Talia parks her car in front of the new Hale house. She and her daughter get out of the car and walk inside the house with wide footsteps. When both of them enter the living room, Isaac, Boys, and Erica were frozen on the couch. Cora was on her feet, mad with rage.

"Are you fucking insane?!"

Peter was in front of her, with hands raised in front of his chest in surrender.

"But it makes sense! Look, she is completely defenseless without Derek. The Argent's could take her to manipulate him, and it would put all of us in danger. I just gave her a way to defend herself."

Laura and Talia look at each other. They don't need any explanations about what the heck happened.

"This was not your choice, Peter." Yelled Cora, with her eyes glowing with her inner wolf. It was Laura's turn to walk towards Peter, entirely pissed off.

"What the hell do you did?"

"I just bite (Y/N). Oh guys, really? Why all this drama? Now she will take care of herself, and Derek would finally take the girl."

The room is plunged into incredulity silence. Suddenly, Talia walks in Peter's direction and grabs him by his shirt. Her eyes were glowing red.

"Did you bite her after all the thing with Paige?"

"But what's the chance (Y/N)'s going to reject the bite as well, just like Paige? Don't you think it would be huge bad luck? I mean, two Derek's girlfriend dying for it? Oh, no, chances are minimal."

"There's no way for you to know, Peter!"

Talia knew that arguing with Peter would be such a waste of time. With this thought on her mind, she unleashes his shirt and lets out a long sigh.

"Where is she?" Talia looks for everyone, trying to focus on a problem per time. Erica's voice could be heard from the couch.

"She is upstairs, in Laura's bedroom. After the bite, she had an anxiety attack and just simply passed out."

"She saw you?"

"No, but she saw Cora. She was the one who found (Y/N) with Peter."

Suddenly, the front door opens. Derek got into the house just like the Devil himself, with glowing red eyes and a killer gaze. Without any hesitation, he runs in Peter's direction. Scott runs inside the house, and all of that action makes Talia predict what would happen - as well as Scott.

They were fast: Scott grabs Derek's arms in an attempt to hold him. Talia got in his way, staying in front of Derek and between him and Peter. Laura and Talia gave a step forward, prepared to put aside a fight. Isaac, Boyd, and Erica got up from the couch, full of adrenaline through their veins.

Then, Derek let out a loud and threatening roar to Peter. The one that made everyone shiver and cringe, and the one that echoed to far distance indeed.

Derek couldn't be put things straighter with his message to Peter.

The room dived in a deep silence after that. Trying to solve things - because of course that Derek was being unable to do this at that moment - Talia breaths in and break that heavy silence in the living room.

"You and you" She points her finger to Isaac and Erica "I want both of you upstairs, watching the door of Laura's bedroom. I don't want Peter near that door."

Isaac and Erica walk in wide footsteps in the direction of the stairs, going to the door of Laura's bedroom without questioning. Talia's sight was now focused on Boyd.

"I want you to take Peter to the basement. Don't let him leave, and watch him closely."

Well, after Derek's roar that did the entire house shakes, Peter even protested. He just goes in the basement direction, with Boyd near him. Now, her eyes were at her son. Without saying any word, she just shook her head in the couch direction in straighter request to Derek sit - which he did after Scott unleashes him.

Talia runs her hand through her face, already tired of all that mess. Why is it always Peter who causes the problems?

"Derek, look" She started, trying to call her son to reason "I know you are pretty pissed of and-"

"I will kill him!" He said, his eyes glowing red.

"It wouldn't solve anything, Derek. What's done is done. There's no way to come back. We need to deal with this now."

Derek let out a long sigh, with his eyes coming back to usual green. His gaze was lost in somewhere of the room. He was worried as hell because, well, he would never give you the bite. You could die, just like what happened with Paige.

Cora sat on his side, looking at her brother. With a soft voice and trying to calm him down, she said:

"Hey, calm down. She's fine."

"She's not fine, Cora." Now, Derek's voice was not full of angry, but worries. He was afraid of losing you definitely "I can smell her upstairs, and she smells like fear. She's terrified!"

It was Scott's turn to say something.

"She just needs some time, and she's not alone. We can help her to adjust. You did it with me, so you can do it with her."

"You forgot to say 'if she doesn't reject the bite'"

Cora's voice resurged into the discussion.

"Derek, she's fine. I took a peek at her, and I didn't saw any negative reactions to the bite. She's just pretty scared. I mean, of course, she is. Peter simply mutated himself in front of her."

Laura crosses her arms and looks for everyone.

"So... What will we do now?"

Derek stood up from the couch, with his mind cleared and the answer ready to be spoken.

"We will do what Scott said. We will help her and train her. She's one of us now."

No one protested. After all, it was exactly what should be done.

Derek goes upstairs, letting Laura, Talia, Cora, and Scott in the living room. When Derek approach Laura's bedroom, Isaac and Erica let the door behind and goes downstairs. They knew Derek would need some time alone with you. When he put his hand on the door's handle, he could smell your fear.

Derek breaths in. Damn, it would be so freaking hard to see you right now. He knocks on the door softly and opens it slowly. The vision of you broke every inch of his defenses.

You were hidden in the corner of the room, shrunken like a frightened puppy. Your knees were close to your chest, with your arms around your legs, sitting on the floor. Your face was wet, and your eyes were red in tears. When you saw Derek, you shrank yourself even more.

You were afraid of him.

In fact, Peter not just mutated himself in front of you. He actually told you the truth about Derek - and if he had just a few minutes more, you would know the truth about Cora and Laura as well. Now, knowing that Derek could turn himself into that creepy thing, you can feel only but fear.

Derek just stopped in front of the door. He wouldn't dare himself to take a step forward to you. Completely broken, he looks at you. His voice was low and soft.

"Cora told me what-"

"Please, call Laura."

Your voice was low and trembling. Derek could already see your cry approach. Your heart was racing, and your breathing was heavy. Derek didn't know what to say to you. At first, he just stays silent for a few seconds. Derek determines that he should take care of you and calm you down. But when he gave the first step in your direction, you shrive even more with new tears running down your face.

You were terrified by him - the one who, until yesterday, you wanted so much. Derek's heart ached with that vision of you, so scared. Scared to him, the man who loves you so much.

"(Y/N), please. I would never do anything that could hurt you."

"You already did."

His heart ached one more time with your words. It was true. Derek really had hurt you with his sharp words when both of you took different ways. Remembering all that tough words he said to you, Derek's gaze goes to the floor. He had his own reasons to say those awful things to you: It was just to keep you safe. However, you didn't know about that.

"I'm sorry." He said, after a few silent seconds.

"Call Laura. Please, call Laura."

Your voice was tired and almost a whisper. Gosh, all of that was so hard for to Derek absorb. He could deal with you making out with another man. But your fear of him...

It was too much.

"Hey. Can I talk with you?"

When Derek look back, he saw Laura with her crossed arms and a worried face. Without saying anything, he walks out of the bedroom. In the corridor, Laura just looks at him.

"Give her some time, Derek. She just needs a break. Her mind should be a full mess right now."

"I just wanted to see if she's okay."

"I know, Derek. But don't worry. We'll take care of her. Mom's making tea to calm her nerves. I'll keep you warn about everything. But, look, I think you should stay..."

"...Stay away from her for a while. Yeah. I got it."

Laura let out a long sigh, with her heart being broken into small pieces.

"Peter got everything worse, didn't he?"

It was his turn to let escape a long sigh. Derek crosses his arms.

"What do you think?"

"I'll solve this. I promise."

"Good luck with that."

Derek just simply walks away from his sister, going downstairs. Without saying a word for anyone, he took the car's key from his pocket and goes out of the house.

Derek just needed some time alone.

[andreafmn]

I'm Not Afraid - Chapter 3

Word Count: 3,195

Characters: Female Reader Argent Character, Original Male Argent Character, Derek Hale, Allison Argent, Scott McCall, Stiles Stilinski, Isaac Lahey, Lydia Martin, Chris Argent, Jackson Whittemore

Story Description: (Y/N) Argent arrived at Beacon Hills to put to rest her father’s sister, Kate Argent. For the first time, her family has decided to settle down and sustain a life in this interesting small town. After 17 years, (Y/N) has the opportunity to establish interpersonal relationships but will she be ready to face the complications that come with relating to her cousin’s, Allison, friends; especially, the infamous Derek Hale. She will face the adventure of being associated with the Derek and McCall pack as well as being faced with the discovery of certain aspects of her life she never imagined.

*DISCLAIMER* I do not own in any way Teen Wolf, all credits of the pre-established characters, script, and storyline belong to Jeff Davis and MTV Network. The only thing I own is Argent Reader insert, her immediate family, and her storyline, as well as her effects in the others’ storyline.

Chapter: 3/?

Warnings:  brief mention of attempted suicide

A/N: If you enjoy my writing I’ll also be posting them in AO3 and Wattpad along with other stories (I also hope to start taking requests if ya’ll want) Hope you enjoy and all constructive criticism is encouraged.

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Chapter 3

"Time!" Mr. Harris looked up from his watch. "If you catalyzed the reaction correctly, you should now be looking at a crystal."

I looked down at my beaker and saw a horrible concoction of half crystal and half goo. Thanks to Stiles, my last partner of this weird-ass rotation the chemistry teacher had us partake in. Yet even though I didn't get with Stiles that well I was relieved that he was my partner. Isaac had been completely insufferable these last few days and I couldn't handle that.

"Now this part of the experiment I'm sure you'll all enjoy. You can eat it." I was bummed that I couldn't eat mine and I guess Lydia noticed.

"Hey, (Y/N), we can share mine. Don't frown." I smiled at her and she returned it.

After Lydia gave me half her rock crystal, Scott just stood up and screamed our names to stop, and everyone else just stared at us. We both turned and gave the boy a weird stare before diverging our attention back to the candy. After clinking our candies against the other, we savored the sweet treat.

Allison's POV

"Derek is outside waiting for (Y/N) and Lydia," Scott said.

"Waiting to kill them?"

"If he thinks one of them is the Kanima, then yes. Especially after what happened at the pool."

"It's not Lydia."

"Stiles, she didn't pass the test, man. Nothing happened."

"No, it can't be her."

"Well, it's not (Y/N) either."

"Well, it could be her."

"What is that supposed to mean?!" What the hell was his problem?

"Well, we have no idea who she is, and she hasn't really proven to be a good person. And the attacks did start after she first arrived at Beacon Hills."

"You don't know her, I do. Believe me, it's not her. I've known her my whole life. I think I would have noticed her turning into a killing lizard and I don't think I would be here to tell you. So, we can cross her out." We both sighed. "But it doesn't matter because Derek thinks it's one of them. So, either we can convince him that he's wrong or we've got to figure out a way to protect them."

"Well, I don't think he's gonna do anything here. Not at school." Scott stepped in.

"What about after school?" I asked and he sighed. "What if we can prove that Derek's wrong?"

"By three o'clock?"

"There can be something in the bestiary."

"Oh, you mean the 900-page book written in Archaic Latin that none of us can read? Good luck with that." Seriously Stiles, not helping. At least I was trying.

"Actually, I think there might be someone who can translate," I said thinking about our guidance counselor.

"Uh, I can talk to Derek maybe convince him to give us a chance to prove it's not either of them or... But if anything happens you guys let me handle it, okay?"

"What does that mean?"

"You can't heal like I do." I stared at him. I wasn't a defenseless baby. "I just don't want you getting hurt."

"I can protect myself." I took the crossbow out of my bag. He said nothing. "What? Did something else happen?"

"I just don't want you getting hurt. Seriously, if anything goes wrong you call me, okay?! I don't care if your dad finds out. Call or text, scream or yell; whatever, I'll find you as fast as I can." He stared straight into my eyes.

"We have until three."

He turned to leave until my crossbow went off. "Ooh." Scott quickly turned around and caught the arrow.

"Aah. Sorry." Stiles handed me the crossbow. "Sorry. Sensed a trigger on that."

Scott's POV

Currently, Stiles was on Lydia's and (Y/N)'s trail, and I was on the field with Boyd trying to find Derek.

"I wanna talk to Derek."

"Talk to me."

"I don't wanna fight."

"Good. Cause I'm twice the size of you" I looked up to find it true.

"True. Really, really true." He smirked. "But you wanna know what I think? I'm twice as fast." I smirked back and tackled him to the ground. Once we stood up, Derek appeared by our side.

"She failed the test." His face held his iconic scowl, and his arms were crossed.

"Yeah, but that doesn't prove anything. Lydia's different."

"I know. At night she turns into a homicidal walking snake."

"I'm not gonna let you kill her."

"Who said I was gonna do it?" I looked back to the school and realized Erica and Isaac were still back in the building. I tried to run towards it, but Boyd threw me down. "I don't know why you think you have to protect everyone now, Scott. But even so, Lydia has killed people and she's gonna do it again. And next time it's gonna be one of us."

"What if you're wrong? For all we know it could also be (Y/N). She didn't pass either, and how is it a coincidence that the attacks started after she arrived?" For a second I could have sworn there was a sign of desperation and worry in his face. But as quick as I blinked the look was gone.

"Lydia was bitten by an alpha. It's her."

"You saw that thing up close. You know it's not like us."

"But it is! We're all shapeshifters. You don't know what you're dealing with. It happens rarely and it happens for a reason."

"What reason?"

"Sometimes the shape you take reflects the person that you are." He gave me his hand and helped me up. "Even Stiles calls her cold-blooded."

"Well, what if she's immune? What if she has something else inside of her that makes her immune to the bite which is why she didn't get paralyzed."

"No one's immune. We've never seen it or heard of it. It's n... It's never happened." He argued.

"What about Jackson?" He looked away. "That's why you tested him, isn't it? Because you gave him what he wanted, didn't you?"

"Scott..."

"You said the bite either kills you or turns you. You were probably hoping that he would die. But nothing happened, right? You have no idea why do you?"

"No." Derek's jaw clenched and I knew I struck a never, so I pressured on buying more time.

"I have a theory. That she's immune and that somehow, she passed it on to Jackson. You know I'm right."

"No!

"You can NOT do this!"

"Look, I can't let her live! You should've known that."

"I was hoping I could convince you but then, I wasn't counting on it." He looked at me frazzled as to what I meant, I just smirked.

(Y/N)'s POV

Being stuck with Stiles and Lydia in the library is torture, an experiment I did not want to know the result of. Actually, just Stiles. Ever since Chemistry he had been on our trail like a lost puppy. Lydia and I had a project to work with, and he was just in the way. He was acting so weird and fidgety, more than usual.

"Hey, Allison. What are you doing here?" Lydia said looking behind her.

"Oh nothing, just wondering if you wanted to get together for a study group."

"Sure, that would actually maybe let the tension leave this group," I said and as we were leaving, Jackson joined.

"Study group? I'm coming with."

"Great." We left through the back door of the library, lord knows why, and we were walking at top speed.

"If we're doing a study group why don't we just stay in the library?" Lydia said. I was asking myself the same thing but since everyone else had stood up, I just followed.

"Because we're meeting up with somebody else."

"Why don't they just meet us at the library?" I asked.

"Oh, that would have been a great idea! Too late."

"Okay, hold on..." Lydia started saying but Jackson stopped her by grabbing her arm.

"Lydia, shut up and walk." Jerk.

We all got inside of Stile's jeep since he thought it would be faster that way because we were already late. It was an awkward ride to what I learned was Scott's house. No one said much except for the casual groan or scoff coming from Lydia.

"If we're meeting at Scott's house, where's Scott?" Lydia asked.

"Meeting us here. I think. I hope." Stiles said as he led us up to the front steps and into Scott's house.

Once inside he closed every single lock there was on the door. My reaction was involuntary as I stared at the slim boy in front of me as if he was another worldly creature.

"Uh, there's been a few break-ins in the neighborhood." He then put a chair on the doorknob and now Lydia joined in the stare. "And a murder. Yeah, it was bad."

"Lydia, follow me. I need to talk to you for a minute." Jackson spoke up.

"Seriously, what is going on with everyone?" Lydia said exasperated.

"Actually, I've been thinking the same thing. What the hell is going on?" I asked once Jackon and Lydia were out of sight.

"Nothing. Like we said it's just a study group." Stiles answered and I crossed my arms against my chest. Groveling for an answer seemed completely futile in this situation.

Allison's POV

"You know what, (Y/N). Why don't you go into the kitchen and help yourself to anything or go upstairs and lay down? I think Scott will take a while."

"O-kay?" She headed upstairs with an audible sigh and I motioned to Stiles to give me his phone to dial Scott.

"Hey, it's me. You need to get here. Quick." I looked outside and saw Derek and his pack waiting. I looked at the phone after Scott hung up and started dialing my dad's number.

"What are you doing?"

"I think... I think I have to call my dad."

"But if he finds you here, you and Scott..."

"I know." I stared at him. "What are we supposed to do? They're not here to scare us, okay, they're here to kill Lydia... Or, or even (Y/N)." We stood in silence and I debated on whether if it would be a good idea to call my father. If I did my relationship with Scott would be completely and truly over and if I didn't there could be a chance I would be down a friend or even a cousin.

"I've got an idea." I looked at a nervous Stiles. "Shoot one of them."

"Are you serious?"

"We told Scott we could protect ourselves. So, let's do it, at least give it a shot, right?" I debated for a moment.

"Okay." I don't think I sounded too confident.

"Look, they don't think we're gonna fight, so one of them gets hit, I guarantee they'll take off. So just shoot one of them." His reasoning made sense. I looked outside.

"Which one?"

"Um, Derek, preferably in the head."

"Stiles, if Scott can catch an arrow, Derek definitely can."

"Okay, ah, just shoot one of the other three."

"You mean two?"

"I mean three." Quickly he moved the curtains aside and looked outside to check on the pack. "Where's Isaac?" Without being able to think I was attacked and thrown to the ground and so was Stiles. I don't know how but Isaac found a way in.

(Y/N)'s POV

I was laying down on the bed of what I hoped was a guest room, scrolling through my phone when I heard a crash downstairs. I guess Lydia heard it too because when I looked outside the hallway, there she was. We moved slowly and carefully. After, I started to hear snarling and crashing.

"What's happening?" Lydia cried and I half hugged her as reassurance.

"Get back. Someone's trying to break in, okay? Go." Allison appeared from around the corner.

"I can help," I said.

"Stay." We didn't move. "Guys, go!" We both ran back to the room she was with Jackson and closed the door. Yet, Jackson was nowhere in sight.

"Jackson?!" Lydia screamed and we made our way to the bathroom locking the door.

"Who are you calling?" I asked Lydia as she took out her phone.

"Hi, I-I need the police. Th-there's someone trying to break in." She turned off the light and I heard the door outside slam.

"Stiles! It's here!" Allison screamed. What the hell was IT? Then the door crashed down. Lydia started squirming so I engulfed her in a hug and tried my best to calm her nerves.

"We're gonna be alright." But honestly, I was just as scared. Once silence was the only thing surrounding us, I checked the room. "Okay, I think it's gone. We'll go out slowly."

She nodded and followed me out of the bathroom and later out of the room. We made our way calmly down the hallway and the stairs. That's when I heard the worst screech ever and it was not human. We both ran outside to see what had made such an awful sound and were met by Derek, Isaac, Erica, Boyd, Scott, Stiles, and Allison. What the hell were they all doing here, and why were Erica and Isaac limp on the floor?

"Would someone please tell me what the hell is going on?"

"It's Jackson," Scott said. What could that possibly mean?

After everyone had calmed down, Stiles took us back to the school to look for our abandoned cars. As I made my way to my bike, Allison stopped me. Claiming that she was too worried about my safety. Not having the energy to fight, I obliged and got into her car alongside Lydia, who was still a bit shaken from the events.

"I need you to promise that you both won't say anything about what just happened." Allison staged the statement as a request but it was clearly a command.

"I promise not to say anything about what just happened if you could tell me what the HELL just happened," Lydia said, exasperated.

"I'm with Lydia on that one."

"It's kinda complicated." Allison sighed.

"How about you start with why Derek was there?" I spoke. "And Isaac and all of those kids from school?"

"Or where Jackson went or what is wrong with Erica?" She looked down. "Need to come up with a possible lie?"

"Part of the reason I am asking is because Scott and I aren't supposed to be seeing each other, okay?" Seriously? That's your excuse "So it's better if you just keep what you know to yourselves."

"Fine. I'll keep what I know about you and your boyfriend, which is nothing, to myself." Lydia started to get out, but Allison held her back.

"Hey, he's not just my boyfriend, you get that right?"

"Let me go." The strawberry blonde spat.

"Just for one second, please try and remember. "

"Remember what?!" Lydia turned.

"Remember what it feels like. All those times in school when you see him standing in the hall and you cannot breathe until you're with him or those times in class when you can't stop looking at the clock because you know that he is standing right out there, waiting for you. Don't you remember what that's like?"

"No."

"What do you mean no? You've had boyfriends."

"Not like that." She closed the door and left. Allison stared at her until she had reached the door to her house before starting the car back up.

"I know you're lying. This has nothing to do with your relationship with Scott. Maybe like five percent but when you look at the whole picture it's not. So, why don't you actually tell me the truth or I swear I will get out of this car."

"We're moving."

"Doesn't mean I won't jump out."

"What do you want me to say?!"

"The truth. Just tell me why the hell everyone has been acting so weird?"

"You're one to talk." She scoffed.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"You! Ever since you've arrived you have pushed everyone away, even though all they have been is nice to you. You're alienating yourself for no reason."

"No reason?! How about the fact that I don't want to grow attached to anyone because I know that once the year ends, I'm gone? It has been like that for almost ten fucking years. Allison, you have only had to move about three times in your life, maybe four. I have been moving every single year since I was eight years old. Don't you think that it doesn't hurt to leave behind people you have grown to love and won't see again, possibly forever?"

"I didn't think..." she sighed.

"Exactly, you didn't think because you don't understand. The last time I grew close to someone, I had to say goodbye and you know what happened?" She shook her head no. "She was bullied into attempting suicide. I did that."

"Are you talking about Josie?" I nodded, roughly wiping away the tears that had spilled. "That wasn't your fault. It was tragic but there was nothing you could have done. You didn't do it."

"I did. She was alone because I left, and I couldn't protect her. She won't even answer my messages. Now, I don't associate myself with people so I don't have to care about what happens to them. That way it doesn't hurt once I leave."

"I'm so sorry, (Y/N), I didn't know you felt that way. But don't push me away. I will always be a constant in your life. I'm your cousin, I will always be with you." She hugged me and wiped away any other tears left. "I love you but get out."

"Dude, you just ruined the moment."

"No, I mean we're at your house and I have to get home. I love you." She smiled and I got out of the car. Before I could say anything else, she sped off. She knew there was a conversation still lingering and she was trying to avoid it. I just hoped I didn't have to explain myself to anyone else.

I entered the empty house, making sure all the doors were locked, and made my way up the stairs. Opening my bedroom door, Brody jumped off my bed and onto me, slathering my face with kisses.

"Hey, buddy. I missed you too," I laughed. Being near him instantly calmed me and helped me feel more at ease after the night I had.

I changed into my pajamas, too tired to shower, and cuddled with Brody on my bed. Talking about my past always made me tense. I tried my best to stray away from the topic and reveal as little as possible as I could, but it always found a way to be uncovered. As hard as I tried it was the dark cloud that would always follow me around. All I could do was avoid the whole thing as much as I could and hope they didn't bring it up again.

With Brody's warmth next to me, I quickly nodded off to sleep and melted the stress of the day.

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[when-they-write-stuff]

SOMETIMES, STILES THOUGHT he understood Derek Hale.

Other times, he thought he never would.

The man was a million things tucked into a leather jacket. Stiles remembered the first time he’d seen Derek in the preserve; scowling, grey-green eyes hard, with an air around him that made younger Stiles a little bit terrified and a little bit intrigued at the same time. And honestly, if he would’ve known then that one meeting would turn into a whirlwind of chaos afterward, the younger version of him might have turned right back around and walked away without thinking twice.

Or maybe he would’ve just grinned. Grinned, knowing that one little meeting with the grumpiest werewolf in Beacon Hills would one day turn into a little bit more. 

If he just had the patience to wait, that is.

But that was then and this was now. Sitting in the loft with the rest of the pack, some rom-com that Lydia had picked out playing on the TV, though most of them were only half paying attention. Scott was all wrapped around Allison, Erica had fallen asleep in Boyd’s lap, and Lydia was scrolling through her phone while Jackson snored at her side. Stiles sat on the floor by himself and watched the TV silently, his brain not even caring what was happening onscreen at the moment.

From somewhere in the kitchen behind all of them, he could hear the faint sound of running water and clinking dishes.

The movie changed scenes— the main couple was kissing. Stiles sighed and pushed himself up.

Isaac made a sound of protest as Stiles accidentally blocked his view, craning his neck to see around. And honestly, the beta seemed to be the only one of them that actually cared about what was happening. Had it been any other time, Stiles might have made fun of him.

But instead, he just rolled his eyes and moved around the couch.

There was a stack of empty pizza boxes on the counter as he entered the kitchen and a line of clean plates next to the sink. Stiles paused in the doorway for a second and stared at Derek literal Hale standing in front of the sink with a towel thrown over his shoulder and an apron wrapped around his hips; a rare sighting of the man without his jacket on.

Then, like a wild animal caught on camera, Derek turned the water off and turned around, giving Stiles an unimpressed look.

“What.”

Stiles hoped his face didn’t look as red as it felt as he snapped out of his thoughts. Forcing himself to just shrug, he moved further into the kitchen and pulled the fridge open, staring unseeingly at the leftovers that he really didn’t care about.

After a long moment of silence, Stiles heard Derek turn the water back on and waited for a few more seconds before stepping back and shutting the fridge again.

“So…” he said, desperately trying not to pay attention to how utterly domestic Derek Hale looked. The man glanced over his shoulder, raising an eyebrow.

“So.”

“Uh. Do you need any help?”

Derek shut off the water again and Stiles noticed for the first time that there weren’t any more dishes left— Derek finished toweling off the last one and gave Stiles a flat look. “No.”

Internally, Stiles cursed himself. “Oh, right. Sorry.”

Derek pressed his lips together, still looking unimpressed. And before he could continue making a fool of himself or Derek could make him feel any more judged, Stiles nodded again and quickly exited the kitchen. Isaac glanced up from the couch as he moved back over, a definite smirk on his lips.

“Nice one, Stilinski. You call that flirting?”

Stiles’s heart skipped at least three beats and he threw a look over his shoulder back toward the kitchen— but all he could hear was the sound of cabinets opening and closing. Derek didn’t seem to have heard the beta.

Clenching his jaw, Stiles gave Isaac the darkest death glare he could muster. “Shut up, Lahey, or I swear to god, will strangle you with your own scarf.”

Isaac smirked wider. “I don’t think Derek would like that very much.”

“I really don’t care what Derek would think.”

“Yeah, we all know that’s not true.”

Stiles glanced over at the others but nobody was even paying their conversation any attention. Well, nobody awake, anyway. Stiles glared back at Isaac, who looked even smugger.

“What, Stilinski? Do you want me to talk a little bit louder?”

“Okay,” Stiles said, shoving himself back up. “You’re an asshole and that’s my cue to leave.”

And just like that, Derek materialized in the doorway of the kitchen. “You’re leaving?”

Stiles blinked at the man, pretty sure his heart had skipped another few beats. Because Derek hadn’t been listening in to any of their conversation, had he? “Uhm, yeah. I’ve got… stuff to do. Important stuff. To do.”

Isaac snorted loudly and then covered it up with the fakest sounding cough Stiles had ever heard. Grinding his teeth together, Stiles reminded himself to throw all of the beta’s scarves into the toilet the next time he came around. 

Derek looked at him for a moment longer before nodding. The man turned around, disappeared back into the kitchen, and Stiles gave Isaac one last furious look.

The beta just smirked and Stiles hated him even more.

Except, as he turned back around to make for the door, Derek came out of the kitchen again. This time, the man approached him with something in his hands.

“Uh,” Stiles froze, blinking at the container that Derek pushed into his hands. He looked down at it, glanced back up at Derek, and then carefully pulled the top off, realizing with a start that it was the rest of the leftover pizza. Blinking again, he gave Derek a confused look. “This is pizza.”

“Yes.”

“Okay.” Stiles didn’t know how to react. “You know my dad will eat this the moment I bring it home, right?”

For a moment, Stiles could’ve sworn he caught a touch of red in Derek’s cheeks; the man almost looked flustered. But then Derek just shrugged, turning back away, and Stiles was left gawking at the werewolf’s back.

Isaac made a strange noise from the couch. It sounded a little bit like a strangled groan.

Shaking his head, Stiles shoved the lid back onto the container and threw one more confused glance toward the kitchen before heading for the door. And, leftovers in hand, he honestly didn’t know what to think.

It was times like this he didn’t think he’d ever understand Derek Hale.

-

The night Stiles was stuck out in the preserve with Derek, it was raining.

He figured that sounded about right. They’d all drawn straws to decide who would be on watch for the omega that was running loose around Beacon Hills, and Stiles had immediately drawn the shortest one. And then, just because it was his luck, Deaton called Scott, his watch-buddy, in for an emergency shift.

So Stiles was going to have to go out on his own. But then Derek stepped in.

Which really wasn’t so bad, right? Stiles had been alone with Derek Hale before. Like… literally the first day after they’d met. When Stiles had been driving the near-dead werewolf around for a full day while Scott attempted to infiltrate the Argent’s house.

So yeah, he could handle one night. Easily.

But then they got out in the preserve and it started raining. Stiles thought that would make things a little less enjoyable.

“So,” he said, trying not to shiver as his hoodie stuck to his skin like wet paper. “This is nice.”

Derek shot him a sideways glance, not even looking the least bit bothered by the cold as raindrops rolled right off his leather jacket. And Stiles thought the entire world was unfair sometimes. Running a hand through his hair, he attempted to pull up his hood, but it was already soaked through, doing nothing but making his hair even wetter.

He groaned. “Yeah, this isn’t nice at all.”

To that, Derek paused and looked him up and down. Then the man sighed— like Stiles was the ridiculous one— and stripped off his jacket, shoving it into Stiles’s chest. 

Stiles froze, not even daring to touch it for a second.

“Er, Derek?”

“Put it on,” Derek said, letting go. Stiles barely managed to catch the jacket before it dropped into the mud and he blinked as Derek started forward again, head slightly bowed against the rain. The man’s long-sleeved t-shirt instantly started to stick against his skin.

Stiles stared after the man, looked down at the jacket held tightly in his hands, and then looked back up. Except, Derek wasn’t slowing down and he cursed silently, pulling the thing over his shoulders before hurrying after the man.

The jacket was like a portable heater. Stiles probably could have melted into it if his mind wasn’t spinning so fast, shoving his hands into the warm pockets as he stumbled after Derek.

“Dude, Derek, dude.”

Derek finally paused and turned around, giving him a pained look. Stiles fumbled to a stop and despite everything, wrapped the jacket further around himself. Even as he asked the question,

“Are you sure?”

Derek raised an eyebrow, looking from the jacket to Stiles’s face. Stiles flushed. 

“I mean, if you’re not—”

“There’s nothing out here tonight,” Derek interrupted, turning his gaze to the dark trees around them. “Let’s head back.”

Stiles snapped his mouth closed, staring at the man. But once more, Derek didn’t wait for an answer before starting off in a random direction. Shaking his head, Stiles hurried after him, feet slipping and sliding in the mud.

So, Derek Hale was officially the biggest grumpy-growly weirdo Stiles had met, he decided. One who owned an incredibly warm leather jacket.

He understood that much about the man at least.

-

Sometimes, Stiles hated werewolves.

Mostly, he decided one day, laying in bed feeling like he was dying, he hated them for their stupid immune systems. Because honestly, how was it even fair that the assholes couldn’t get sick?

Stiles didn’t see how that followed nature’s rules in any way.

He, on the other hand, was very capable of getting sick. And approximately two days after his dad came home with a slight cold, Stiles caught the thing so hard, it felt like he’d been hit by a truck.

Sometimes, he hated werewolves. And laying in bed, his head pounding and his nose feeling like it was about to start leaking out his brain, Stiles very nearly considered calling up Derek and taking the bite.

Then, as if his thoughts had somehow summoned the werewolf, Stiles’s window was shoved up and Derek pulled himself through.

Despite everything, Stiles didn’t even have the energy to be startled. A psychotic murderer could have come through the window and he wouldn’t even lift his head to complain. In fact, he’d take a psycho murderer if it meant his headache would stop.

He was pretty sure Derek had frozen the moment the man’s feet touched the carpet, because silence descended over the room for a moment. Then, he blinked up as Derek plodded over to his bed and glanced down at him, brows knitted tightly together.

“Stiles.”

Stiles gazed up at him blearily. Derek sniffed deeply and then drew back, looking repulsed. Which— rude.

“You smell bad.”

Stiles groaned loudly, which turned into a sharp cough, which turned into a minor lung hacking, before pulling his blankets up over his head. “Fuck you too, Derek.”

Once more, the room was silent. After a long moment, Stiles peeked back out again and saw Derek was still watching him with a mildly concerned look on his face. After another long minute of literal staring, Stiles sighed. 

“I haven’t showered in like two days, dude. Stop looking at me like that.”

Derek raised an eyebrow. Stiles groaned again.

“I’m sick, asshole.”

The man’s face finally cleared. Stiles noticed for the first time that Derek had the bestiary in his hands— and there was no way in hell he was doing research right now. But then Derek set the book on his bedside table and tucked his hands into his pockets, looking a little awkward. “Oh.”

“Yeah, oh.”

“What can I do?”

Stiles blinked. “I’m sorry, what?”

“What do you need?”

And that was the last response he’d expected to hear from Derek Hale. Ever. “Uhm, nothing? It’s fine. I’m just going to lay here until I wither up and die, but everyone has to go at some point, right?”

To those words, Derek definitely looked concerned. The man’s eyes flashed red for a second and Stiles startled, drawing the blankets further up to his chin.

“That was a joke, Sourwolf.”

But the man just looked at him for another moment before turning back around and heading for the window. Stiles didn’t even have a chance to protest before Derek was pulling himself right back out— and Stiles stared at the empty sill for a moment before sighing heavily.

Stupid sickness immune werewolves. Derek probably thought this was a life or death situation or something.

And honestly, Stiles didn’t expect to see the man again. After all, he smelled bad.

God, he hated werewolves.

His dad had gone back to work that morning and though it had been Stiles’s idea, telling the man he wasn’t five anymore and didn’t need anyone to ‘take care of him’, Stiles still kind of wished he had someone to complain to. Or someone to make him soup. Or even someone to bring him more tissues when he grabbed the last one out of the box.

Because honestly, the very thought of leaving his bed and searching for more seemed like an impossible task. For one bleak moment, Stiles had actually debated using the t-shirt next to his bed.

Then he realized he was losing his mind.

After what felt like a million hours had passed since Derek had left, and Stiles was right on the verge of falling asleep, his window was shoved up again. Stiles snapped right back to reality so fast his headache came back like an avalanche. In that moment, he vowed he was going to murder whoever had just interrupted his sweet, sweet escape into the darkness.

When he could make himself get out of bed, that is.

But then Stiles realized it was Derek. Derek, with a round styrofoam container held in one hand and a grocery bag held from the other. Struggling to sit up, Stiles gave the werewolf an incredulous look, and Derek approached the bed carefully.

The man was still looking at him like he was about to spontaneously combust. 

“I brought soup.”

Stiles just stared.

Derek set the round container on his bedside table and then pulled a spoon out of the plastic bag. Close behind it was a packet of crackers, a box of tissues, and a white bottle of painkillers.

“Boyd said chicken noodle works best,” Derek said, still avoiding Stiles’s blatant stare as he popped the top of the container off. “It should still be hot, so—”

“Derek,” Stiles said, cutting him off. Looking pained, the man finally met his gaze.

“... I also brought crackers.”

“Crackers.”

“For the soup.”

For the soup. Yeah, Stiles had to give it to him; that was a fair answer.

But what?

Before Stiles couldn’t even think of an appropriate reaction to everything that was currently unfolding, Derek was pushing the container of soup into his hands. Instantly, the smell of warmth managed to drift into Stiles’s clogged nose and he almost melted into the mattress, mouth watering.

He hadn’t even realized how hungry he was.

“You brought me soup,” Stiles mumbled, still a little lost in his own head. Derek’s face remained carefully blank and the man nodded once.

“You’re sick.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t actually expect soup—”

Except, Derek didn’t even give him a chance to finish that sentence. Instead, as if dropping off an entire ‘get better now’ cold-care package was all he’d come back to do, the man moved back over to the window. Though still, Derek paused there for a moment, glancing back, and Stiles could’ve sworn his eyes flickered for a moment. The man pressed his lips together, looked like he was going to say something else, and then pulled himself back out.

Stiles gaped in shock at the once more empty window. Because Derek was gone. And this time, Stiles was sure the man was not coming back.

He didn’t even know what to think of the werewolf anymore.

-

Stiles thought it was a little ridiculous how Derek had never learned how to knock.

That’s what he assumed, anyway, when his window was shoved up on a random Friday midnight and Derek the Grumpy Werewolf pulled himself through like he owned the place. Had it been any other weeknight or had Stiles been attempting to sleep, he might have been a little pissed. But as of that night, he was completely procrastinating sleep, and honestly, what use was telling Derek Hale ‘no’ anyway?

The man never knew how to take that for an answer.

Sighing, Stiles paused whatever Youtube video had been playing and half-closed his laptop, giving Derek a raised-eyebrow look.

“Yes, oh alpha of mine?”

For some reason, the man automatically frowned. “You’re still awake.”

And wasn’t that was a creepy way to start the conversation? Stiles blinked and closed his laptop the rest of the way. “Uh, yeah, dude, I am. Now please tell me you weren’t hoping for the opposite because this isn’t Twilight and I own an insane amount of wolfsbane. Just so you know.”

To that, Derek rolled his eyes. “No, Stiles.”

“‘No, Stiles’ what?”

The man just gave him a flat look— but that had been a fair question, okay?

One Stiles clearly wasn’t getting an answer to.

“Okay, then,” he said, raising his hands. “Just be all weird and creepy then, why don’t you? Yes, Sourwolf, I am awake. And no, I don’t plan on going to sleep any time soon. So do you need something?”

Derek hesitated for a moment before pulling something out of his pocket and stepping forward. Stiles sat straighter as the man dropped a set of keys onto his blankets— and automatically balked.

“Are those my car keys?”

Derek shoved his hands into his pockets and looked a little constipated. “Your jeep is parked in the driveway.”

“My jeep is… I’m sorry, what?”

“Parked in the driveway.”

Stiles stared at the man. Then he shoved himself up and stumbled to the window. And sure enough, his jeep was there. A little bit shiny looking, the duct tape no longer wrapped around the driver’s door handle, and wearing what looked like a new set of tires.

Slowly, Stiles turned back around. “Derek, my jeep was at mechanics.”

“Yes.”

Stiles stared. “Because it wouldn’t start.”

“Yes.”

“And it’s been there for three weeks because I couldn’t afford to get it fixed.”

Derek gave Stiles a look that made him feel like the idiot. As if all of this was somehow supposed to make sense. Because…

“Derek, did you pay to have my car fixed?”

The man didn’t answer for a long moment. Stiles took a deep breath, forcing himself not to turn right back around and stare at his jeep for a minute longer. Just to make sure all of this was real.

“Dude, I’m gonna need an answer. That really wasn’t a hard question.”

“... Yes.”

For a moment, all Stiles heard was white noise. Then he stalked forward and shoved a finger into Derek’s chest, but the man didn’t even move. “What do you mean, you fixed my car? Derek! Oh my god, how much did it cost? I’m going to need to get a job to pay you back. No, two jobs. And dip into my college funds. Oh my god!”

Derek finally reacted— by rolling his eyes. “I don’t want you to pay me back.”

“You don’t what ?”

If Stiles was overreacting a little bit, it wasn’t his fault. No, it definitely wasn’t. It was Derek Hale’s fault because apparently, the man thought it was normal to go around paying for people’s car repairments and—

Stiles blinked, staring blankly at the wall beyond Derek’s shoulder. “I’m gonna faint.”

Derek’s eyebrows shot up and he stepped forward; to which Stiles reacted by raising his hands and stumbling back. Ramming into the nearest wall, he closed his eyes and shook his head.

“Nope, nope, nope. Do not get any closer, dude. Don’t take one more step. In fact, I think I’m gonna need a minute.”

“I can go,” Derek said, sounding uncertain. Stiles opened one eye and stared at him. 

“That… might be a good idea.”

And it probably wasn’t. No, it definitely wasn’t. But Stiles didn’t know what to think, he didn’t know how to react, and if Derek stuck around any longer, he might feel the need to throw himself out the window instead of sending the man away through it. And his dad would probably not appreciate that. 

Oh god, how was he going to explain this to his dad?

Derek looked at him for a moment longer, concern still written across his face. But then he just nodded and moved back toward the window. Stiles didn’t even watch the man leave, his attention fully fixed on the set of keys on his bed. His stomach flipped.

Derek Hale had just paid to fix his car. 

Stiles had never not understood the werewolf more.

-

It took a while for Stiles to regain the courage to go back to the loft.

The way things had ended the last time he’d been face to face with Derek Hale, he wasn’t really sure what he was supposed to expect. But stepping through the front door, it was clear almost instantly that nothing had changed.

Somehow, literally nothing had changed.

The betas were all gathered around the couch watching something on TV. Stiles caught what smelled like pancakes and heard the sound of dishes clattering in the kitchen. He stood still for a moment, head-spinning, and then moved toward the noise.

Derek was moving around the room with a towel thrown over his shoulder and a line of clean dishes next to an empty sink. The man’s grey-green eyes took their time drifting to where Stiles stood, gaping, and he just raised an eyebrow.

“I didn’t know you were coming by.”

Stiles opened his mouth, then closed it. He had no idea what to say.

There was a stack of pancakes next to the stove.

“Are you hungry?”

And with those words, Stiles finally snapped back to reality. Slipping a hand into his pocket, he gripped his keys tightly and stepped forward, holding Derek’s gaze. Because dammit, all of this was throwing him through a loop and he didn’t know how to react anymore. It was driving him crazy.

“Derek, we need to talk.”

The man’s other brow raised and he crossed his arms; Stiles swallowed hard.

“Somewhere else.”

Because the last thing he wanted was any of the betas listening in to their conversation. Derek studied him for a moment longer before nodding and pulling the towel off his shoulder, dropping it onto the counter. Running his hands nervously through his hair, Stiles followed the man out of the kitchen, toward the loft door.

Isaac was the only one who looked away from the TV. The little bastard was smirking wide and obvious.

Stiles ground his teeth together and followed Derek out of the loft.

He’d kind of expected things to be awkward right from the start when he’d stepped foot in the loft. But Derek was acting like the entire event from a week ago hadn’t even happened. Meanwhile, Stiles could barely even look at his jeep without remembering every last word said.

Out in the hallway, Derek gave Stiles a blank look, his expression not betraying a thing. And, god, Stiles hated that about the werewolf sometimes.

“So,” he said, words sticking to his throat. “Yeah.”

Derek’s brows furrowed. Stiles cursed himself internally, biting down hard on his lower lip.

“Derek, what the hell is going on?”

“What do you mean?”

Stiles gaped at the man before shaking his head. Because he wasn’t imagining these things, dammit. “Uh, what do I mean? Derek!” He rubbed a hand over his face. “My car. The jacket. The constant weird leftovers and that one random time I was sick, you literally brought me soup? Even Scott didn’t bring me soup! And I had been complaining through text to him the entire day.”

Derek’s right eye twitched. The man didn’t say a word. Stiles’s head spun.

“I’m not going crazy,” he said. And he kind of needed to hear that out loud, even if he was the one to say it. “I just… I don’t understand you.”

Derek's face did something strange— maybe he looked a little red. But he didn’t say a word and Stiles hated him a little bit.

“I’m not going crazy, Derek.”

“No,” the man said, something in his expression finally softening. Stiles stared and Derek shoved his hands into his pockets, glancing at the wall over Stiles’s shoulder. “You’re not.”

Stiles swallowed hard, desperately hoping the man wasn’t going to leave him at that. Because he didn’t think he could manage more half explanations. The silence stretched as Derek didn’t say anything for a long moment, and then the man dropped his gaze.

“I… don’t know how to do this.”

“Do what?”

“This.”

“I’m gonna need more than that, dude.”

Derek scowled at nothing. The man literally looked constipated now and Stiles might have been a little bit worried if he wasn’t so confused. So damn confused.

“Derek, do what?”

“All of… this! All of this, dammit, Stiles!”

Stiles startled. But before he even had a chance to react, Derek was moving forward. And then there were hands on the sides of his head, desperate lips pressing against his own, and Stiles jolted, nearly yanking back, and then all but melted into the touch.

For a moment Stiles.exe stopped working. His brain officially logged off and his instincts took over, leading Stiles to press right back, kissing Derek as hard as he could. 

And if this was another thing he didn’t understand about Derek Hale, Stiles never wanted to figure the man out.

He kissed Derek hard and hungry. Because how long had he wanted to do this? There was a not-so-little part of him that had imagined kissing Derek Hale. Ever since Stiles had first laid eyes on the man. And okay, maybe he didn’t understand it, maybe he didn’t understand him, but at the same time, maybe Stiles had never wanted anything more. Wanted to know something, know someone, more.

At the rate his thoughts were going, that’s what he clung to anyway.

Derek broke contact first. The man drew back almost as fast as he had moved forward and Stiles was left standing there for a moment, swaying just a little, torn between catching Derek’s lips once more or passing out right where he stood.

But when he met Derek’s gaze, the man looked terrified. The coolness of the werewolf’s expression had finally vanished and Stiles wasn’t sure he’d ever seen Derek’s expression hold so much before.

“Oh,” he said. And yeah, that was the first thing that left his mouth. If possible, Derek’s face paled even more.

“I’m sorry.”

Stiles blinked. Just like that, he didn’t understand a thing about Derek Hale all over again. “You’re… what?”

“I’m sorry,” Derek said, clenching his jaw. “I shouldn’t— I didn’t—”

“Derek.”

The man cut off and looked at him with what could only be called a fragile expression. Stiles swallowed hard, all of it crashing down on him suddenly.

“Derek.”

“Stiles.”

Stiles stared. Derek Hale… god, Derek Hale was an enigma wrapped up in a leather jacket. Every time Stiles thought he was getting close to understanding even the smallest thing about the man, something had to change. Soup on a shitty day or a set of keys dropped onto his mattress. And sometimes Stiles thought he understood Derek Hale. But other times, he thought he never would.

The feel of the kiss still lingered on his lips. Maybe… just maybe he could understand that much. For a moment.

Stiles stepped forward carefully. “You confuse the hell out of me.”

Derek stayed stiff and silent. Reaching out, Stiles brushed the tips of his fingers against the man’s own.

“You’re like a thousand lines of red string, Derek Hale.”

Something flickered in Derek’s eyes. Stiles couldn’t tell if it was confusion or a hint of nervousness. Maybe it was a little bit of both.

Licking his lips, Stiles tilted his chin up and searched the man’s face. “I’m not sure I’ll ever fully understand you.”

This time, Derek looked a little pained. Stiles offered a small smile.

“But I’d like to.”

Grey-green eyes flickered with the faintest hue of red. Stiles closed that last foot of space between them and took Derek’s hands fully, hoping the werewolf couldn’t hear how fast his heart was racing. Because he felt a little lightheaded and a little nauseous— like if this didn’t work out, he might throw up.

Which totally was not sexy at all.

“Derek?”

The man stared at him. The barest hint of color had finally returned to his cheeks. “Stiles.”

“You should totally kiss me again.”

Derek blinked. His expression did something strange. And then it was like the tension had been wiped from his face. In the breath of a moment, warm lips were pressing against Stiles’s again and this time, there was nothing desperate about it. Nothing hard, nothing sudden, nothing rash. The man kissed him warm, careful, and it was kind of like a leather jacket being draped over his shoulders in the cold of the rain.

Stiles smiled against Derek’s lips. Because honestly, there was something about it that just seemed right. And he thought he knew what it all could become. 

He'd like to, at least.

For the moment, though, Stiles kissed the man with just as much hope and decided he understood that much.

[anxiousstark]

S4 01 | The Dark Moon

BIG MASTERLIST | TW REWRITE | KO-FI

Stiles Stilinski x Reader! Half-sibling!Mccall

Word count: 3956

Warnings: Mentions of  injuries, blood, poison, death, seizures, dead bodies, swearing (always), etc.

A/N: Wow. This is the 4th Season already?! I noticed while writing this entire chapter this morning that we were starting season 4. This is crazy. Enjoy and I didn’t have time to proofread!

↪ PLEASE RESPECT MY WORK. DON’T COPY, TRANSLATE OR CLAIM THEM AS YOURS. NOT ON THIS WEBSITE OR ANOTHER. ALL RIGHTS ARE RESERVED.

I glanced around, sighing, not knowing what to expect and seeing a different scenario from the one that I was used to seeing every day. There was a lot of people in the street, wandering through street markets, trying to get the best deal.

"This doesn't seem so bad." My boyfriend rubbed his hands together.

"It's not the town, it's the plan."  Lydia rolled her eyes as I chuckled. "Stiles. This could be the stupidest plan we've ever come up with. You're aware of that, right?"

"I'm aware it's not our best." His voice lowered.

"We are going to die." The three of us started walking.

"Are you saying that as a Banshee or you're just being pessimistic?"

"I'm saying it as a person who doesn't wanna die."

"Okay." Stiles's tiny gesture made my chest pound like crazy. He had grabbed my hand, scared I would get lost as there were many people. "Would you just mind restricting any talk of death to actual Banshee predictions?"

"This plan is stupid and we're going to die," Lydia said in a cheerful tone, attempting to make the hazel-eyed boy happy.

"Oh, thank you." He smirked.

It was night when we arrived at a building. The door was being watched by two men. They both smiled at us, especially eyeing Lydia and me, which made us feel a little bit uncomfortable.

"Estamos aquí para la fiesta." I murmured to them, letting them know that we were there for the party taking place inside the building.

One of them smirked, shaking their head as if to let us know that we weren't invited to go inside. I shifted my gaze to Stiles, who was searching for something inside one of the pockets of his trousers. As soon as he found what he wanted, he lifted it. A black card. And even though it seemed like just an item without much meaning, one of the men standing in front of us stopped smiling.

Stiles noticed that there was a camera just above them, lifting the card so whoever was behind it could see the object. Automatically, the door opened and the men had nothing more to do than let us go inside.

When the door closed behind us, we sighed, worried about what we could find. There was a small corridor, walls were of an intense red that was making my headache. And it seemed like the door in front of us and the walls embracing us shook.

As Stiles opened the door, we were hit with loud music, colourful lights and the smell of alcohol and sweat. Bodies ground against each other, following the compass of the music.

Stiles clutched my hand harder as his other hand rested on Lydia's arm. He didn't want us to get lost in the crowd. We ended up in front of the bar, where three drinks were placed in front of us even though we haven't ordered anything. I furrowed my eyebrows as Stiles sought money inside his pocket.

I felt a hand gripping my shoulder, and jerking around I was met with a man. "No. On the house." He offered us an insincere smile. "Most American teenagers don't cross the border to refuse a drink."

"We didn't come to drink." Lydia clarified, dropping what seemed like a bullet with a skull on it inside the drink.

Of course, we were taken out of the party, to the insides of the building where everything was dark and where now, a woman stood before us. "Severo hates this music. Me? I've always loved the music of youth." We were sitting in front of her, while there were men all around the room, keeping an eye on us. "This kind, especially. It has a savage energy."

"We're here for Derek Hale." I was the first one to speak aloud.

"Is that so?"

"We know you have him. We've heard you can be bought." Lydia was the one continuing while Stiles placed money on top of the table with a loud thump.

"It's 50,000 for Derek."

"Now, where does a teenage boy get money like this? Japanese mafia?" A woman behind us loaded her gun, making Lydia and I jump in our seats as a man did the same next to Stiles. "Not smart to come alone."

"What makes you think we came alone?" The boy next to me smirked, and I couldn't help but take the grin out of my face. Malia, Kira and Scott had come with us.

"You brought a wolf into my home?" She got up from her chair.

It was my turn to smirk. "No, of course not. How could we do that?" She seemed to relax, but only for a couple of seconds due to my following words. "We brought an Alpha."

"My friends..." She sighed as she turned around. "I don't think you're aware of your poor timing. Do you know what the dark moon is?"

"The part of the lunar phase when the moon is least visible in the sky," Lydia said in a robotic tone.

"But do you know its meaning?"

"Some people say it's a time of reflection. Or grief." I intervened.

She glanced at me. "Grief and loss, mija. I wonder why, when you and your friends have suffered so much loss, you would risk it again for someone like Derek Hale."

"'Cause, we don't like to lose."

One of the men next to Araya stopped us from continuing talking as he started speaking to someone on the other line of the walkie talkie. I couldn't help but have a tiny smile on my face when I heard the voice of my brother through it. "Stiles. Take 10 off the table."

As the button-nose boy did what my brother had asked for, I decided to speak up. "Maybe you should just take the deal." Lydia nodded her head, smiling at the woman in a sickeningly way.

"While I'm keen to follow the warning of a Banshee," She glanced at me. "And of course, the one of a Siren. I'm going to have to decline."  

"Aaaa... Come on. Just give us Derek. You don't want him anyway. Haven't you noticed what a downer he is? No sense of humour, poor conversationalist." I tried to maintain a serious expression as Stiles's continued speaking. "Just come on, take the money."

Araya grabbed the walkie talkie once again. "Severo? Show them how the Calaveras negotiate." When Araya left the room, the three of us were manhandled by the men. And I wasn't a Banshee, but even I could feel that Scott, Kira and Malia were in great danger right now.

Thinking back, we ended up here because Scott had gone to Derek's lot, just to find that he wasn't there. He had found bullets, and sending a picture to Deaton, he had learnt that it was the mark of a family of hunters based out of Mexico. The Calaveras.

Lydia said that he wasn't sure he was dead, but she also wasn't sure if he was alive, which was perturbing.

"He is awake!" Kira informed us as Stiles and I got closer to my brother, who was lying down on the floor of a dirty and abandoned bathroom, where we have been taken. "Guys, he's awake."

"Scott, you okay?"

"Yeah." He tried to get up. "They don't have him. They don't have Derek."

"We know." I sighed, offering him a smile that he sent back, trying to let me know that he was alright. "But right now, they've got Lydia."

"Lydia? What do they want with Lydia?" He asked rapidly.

"We always have the same question and it is always answered the same way," I spoke as everyone glanced at me. "The power of a Banshee."

My brother rapidly got up from the floor, trying to open the door with his bare hands, which wasn't working.

"We already looked for a way out. I think a lot of people have." I furrowed my eyebrows as Kira talked, not sure of what she meant until I saw the marks on the walls. Marks of people who desperately tried to escape, scratching the walls with all of their strength.

Malia was leaning against a column. "I say when that door opens again, we take out whoever's standing in the way and run for it."

"What about Lydia?" Kira asked, and I sighed, knowing Malia's next words.

"What about her?"

"We're not leaving without her."

"Why not?"

Stiles shook his head, getting closer to her. "Because we don't leave without people. Remember, we talked about this? Rules of the wild kingdom don't apply to friends."

"Is that what you would do as a coyote, leave her for dead?"

"If she was weak and injured, yeah. If hunting had been bad that season, I would eat her. Then I'd leave."

"Mmm. Believe it or not, that's progress." I crossed my arms over my chest. "Stiles and I've been trying to explain everything to her."

"All right, guys, we're not dead yet." My brother interrupted. "And that means Araya wants something."

Kira glanced at the dark-haired boy standing by her side. "But if the Calaveras don't know where Derek is, that means they didn't take him from the loft. Right?"

"Maybe he left on his own." Stiles completed.

Scott glanced at the floor. "Maybe someone else got to him."

We couldn't continue with our theories as the door abruptly opened, showing three men that quickly walked to us. However, we were soon met with darkness.

When I opened my eyes, my head was aching and everything around me seemed to move in circles. My throat was dry as if I haven't drink anything in days. I gradually noticed that I was tied to a chair and that my brother was tied to another one, right next to me.

The door of the room where we were now opened, showing Araya with another man and Lydia. "Oh, God," Lydia murmured as she saw us.

"Let her go. Look... you've got me. Just let the others go." My brother begged as Araya smirked. Her gaze moved to me. My brother followed her gaze, and it seemed like he had noticed from the first time that they had taken me too. "Why did you bring her?"

Lydia was chained to another chair as Kira came inside the room, also chained while a man grabbed her. What was going on? "So, let me explain what's about to happen." The man grabbing Kira spoke. "This one, the fox, has an immunity to electricity. So she's going to turn the dial on the Alpha. If she doesn't, I turn the dial on the Banshee and the Siren."

"No. I'm not doing this." Kira tried to resist.

"I see. Are you sure? One of your friends has the power to heal. The other? Not so much." Severo smirked. "And the other one might end up dying." Who?

"What are you doing?" Scott glanced at the old woman. "Is this a game to you?"

"This is a test, lobito. Let's see if you pass. We're going to ask some questions. You answer them, nobody gets hurt." She walked around us, but I had to close my eyes and lean my head down as everything continued moving around me. "You don't answer, we turn on the dial."

When I looked up again, my brother was looking at the fox girl. "Do what they say. Okay. Whatever they want. I can take it."

"So... We don't know where Derek is. We want to find him as well. You know who took him."

"What?" My brother asked her. "How would I know that?"

"That doesn't sound like an answer to me."

"We don't know." Lydia intervened. "Why do you think we came here?"

"Kira, turn the dial." The woman ordered, but Kira shook her head. "Should we turn the dial on Lydia instead?"

My brother quickly spoke up. "No, no! Do it, Kira. Do it."

"Let's start at one." As soon as she said that, my brother grunted, his hands gripping the chair he was sitting on, trying not to scream in pain. "Tell me! Who actually has Derek? Who had a reason, a vendetta particular to the Hales?"

My brother continued panting. "I said I don't know."

"Oh, you don't know because you haven't figured it out yet. So think! Who could've taken him?" They turned the pain even stronger. "Who had the power? The power of a shapeshifter?"

"I-I don't know."

"Oh! Someone who could have turned without you knowing. Turned, but not by a bite!"

"I don't know!" He screamed.

"Y-you.." My voice was a mere whisper, but swallowing I was able to scream. "You are going to kill him!" There were tears in my eyes. "You are going to kill him! Stop!"

Araya laughed, shaking her head. "No, mi amor." She smirked. "You will die first." I furrowed my eyebrows, feeling the temperature in the room dropping. I was cold. "Something told me lobito right here was going to be hard to peel." Her gaze shifted to my brother. "Your beautiful sister has poison running through her blood." My brother quickly glanced at me. "The longer it stays in her system, the more difficult to take it out. She can end up having seizures." I closed my eyes for a couple of seconds, feeling dizzier than before. "Say the name, Scott."

"Kate." What? Kate Argent?

"Okay," I heard Araya's voice. "Stop the machine." Severo did as he was told as another two men walked to Scott and Lydia, freeing them. My brother quickly walked to me, extending his hands to touch me. However, my body started shaking and I couldn't make it stop. "Severo bring the shot."

The door of the room opened again, this time two men were grabbing Stiles and Malia. Stiles's eyes widened as he saw me shaking while being tied to a chair. Before he could step forward, the man grabbing him stopped his movements.

"Don't dare any of you to touch her now." Araya's strong voice resonated through the room. Severo walked to me, stabbing the side of my neck with the syringe. I could feel the liquid running down my blood. Severo unleashed me, lying me down on the freezing ground as my body continued shaking.

"W-What did you do to her?? You old troll." I wanted to smirk at Stiles's use of vocabulary, but I was too busy being scared of the constant shaking of my body.

"She will be alright," Araya replied. "She has more water in her body than a human. The liquid we injected plus the water will do a quick job in removing the poison."

"N-nice." I tried to sound sarcastic.

"Fever might be a side effect of the poison, but you will be alright."

I watched as my brother talked to Araya while I was leaning against Roscoe with the others. Stiles was constantly asking me if I was alright. I felt a little weak, but my temperature was back to normal.

Scott finally walked to us. "So what now?" My boyfriend asked.

He shrugged. "She thinks she knows where we can find Derek."

"She gonna tell us where?" Malia asked while she leaned her head against my shoulder. My hand went up to play with her hair.

"Uh, actually, she's giving us a guide."

Stiles's face transformed into confusion, but it went away as soon as a big motorbike stopped in front of us. "You know her?" Stiles asked my brother.

As soon as the person took their helmet off, we saw a beautiful black woman whose neck seemed to be scarred. "Braeden."

"Who's Braeden?"

"She's a mercenary," Lydia added.

"Right now, I'm the only one who's gonna take you to la iglesia."

"The Church?" I questioned. "What's The Church?"

"It's not a place you'll find God," I smirked, liking her way of talking.

Getting inside the jeep, we followed her as she took us to la iglesia.

There was a comfortable silence inside Roscoe. The three girls were sitting behind as I sat on the front between my boyfriend and my brother. "Okay, I'll ask." Malia was the one interrupting the silence. "Who's Kate Argent?"

Kira put her hand up. "Uh, I'd like to know, too."

"Well, we were at her funeral. So, I'd like to know how she got out of a casket that was buried six feet underground." I chuckled, nodding my head that was resting on Stiles's shoulder as he drove.

"She was never in it." I glanced at my brother.

"She was Allison's aunt," Lydia spoke, and I could feel the pain in her voice. The pain of someone who recently lost her best friend. WAnd a total sociopath."

"You don't have to talk about it now if you don't want to." Kira whispered while glancing at the back of my brother's head.

"Um, yes, he does." I was going to scold Malia as if she was a curious child that didn't know when to keep her mouth shut.

"Yeah, she's right. You guys should know. You need to know."

"All right." Stiles sighed. "Kate was the one who set the fire that killed most of Derek's family."

"Some of them survived, like Cora, and Peter." Scott added.

"A very angry Peter," Lydia appended.

"Yeah, he's the one who bit and turned me." My brother sighed.

"And the one who scratched me." I added.

"And the one who finally caught up to Kate and killed her." Lydia explained.

"And we saw her buried." Stiles and I replied at the same time. He took his eyes off the road for two seconds to place a kiss on my forehead and ask once again, if I was feeling alright.

"No." Scott shook his head. "We saw a casket, remember? She wasn't in it. The Calaveras heard that Kate had been killed by an Alpha's claws. They wanted to make sure she was really dead. Her body was healing. More and more, as she got closer to a full moon. She was coming back. So they switched out the bodies. If a hunter is bit, they have to take their own life before they change. The Calaveras, they treat the code like law. They make it their responsibility to enforce it."

"Good for her." The were coyote intervened. "I wouldn't do it either."

"Would you kill half a dozen people to get out? Because that's what she did."

Kira sighed, placing her hand on my brother's shoulder. "So Kate's a werewolf now?"

"I don't know. You know, there's a saying, sometimes the shape you take reflects the person you are." I nodded along with my brother's words, remembering Jackson Whittemore. What was of him now?

"What kind of shape is sociopathic bitch?" As soon as the Martin girl spoke, the car was hit by something, making Stiles stop driving as we all got startled. We all got out of the car as Braeden got off her bike to ask what had happened.

"I don't know. It felt like we hit something." Stiles and Scott were examining Roscoe.

"Scott, we need to get there by night. It's too dangerous otherwise."

My brother sighed. "Go." Stiles made a gesture with his hands, trying to let him know that it was okay for him to leave with Braeden.

"Not without you."

"Dude, someone needs to find Derek. We'll figure something out. We always do. Just go."

I walked to my brother, kissing his cheek and embracing him. "Be careful, okay?" He nodded his head, wishing the same for me and sharing a look with Stiles. A look pleading him to take care of me.

Before he walked to the bike, he was stopped by the fox girl. "Scott... I can't think of anything else to say except for be careful. And...and I know 'Be careful' sounds kind of lame and I'm totally sure the second you're gone I'm gonna think of something much better, but I..."

"Uh, 'Be careful' works for me." I smiled as they embraced each other.

I sighed. "They are so cute," I whispered while wandering close to Stiles as his hands rubbed Roscoe's side, making sure that there wasn't any scratch.

"We are cuter." He replied while biting his lower lip and inspecting his jeep. I laughed and nodded my head and watching my brother disappear with Braeden.

"Guys," Malia grunted. Therefore, I turned around to look at her. "I don't think we hit something. I think something hit us." She was holding up what seemed like giant teeth or claw. I couldn't differentiate them, to be honest.

I sighed, leaning against the jeep as I examined my boyfriend inspecting the hood of his car. A screwdriver in his mouth. "Stiles, baby. Don't hate me. I know you love Roscoe but maybe we should just walk." He glanced at me with wide eyes. "It's getting colder and darker." I made a gesture to the girls as they rubbed their arms.

"Hey, I will never abandon this jeep. You understand me? Ever. Ever. Ever."

Malia glanced around. "Work faster, Stiles." She paused as her eyes continued examining the whereabouts. "There's something out here with us." I gulped.

However, night had fallen upon us and Roscoe wasn't working. Malia continued in front of us, glancing around, prepared to attack whatever was observing us. Kira had grabbed her sword while Lydia and I tried to help my stressed boyfriend. "Lydia, could you please hold the light still for a second? It's really hard to see anything if you keep shaking it like that."

Lydia scoffed. "I'm shaking it like this because we're in the middle of nowhere with your broken down jeep and we're being attacked by yet another razor-clawed monster. And I'm terrified."

"Well, just be slightly less terrified." He answered back. "You hold this." He handed me a big metal piece.

"What's this?" I inspected it.

"I don't know. I'm hoping it's not important."

"Oh god." I sighed. Things got worse as the next thing that happened was Malia running towards somewhere or something. "Malia!" I yelled. Kira ran after her while Lydia told Stiles to continue fixing the jeep.

"You... you please don't do that ever again!" Stiles scolded Malia as he drove. The jeep was finally fixed or so we were hoping.

"Do what?" She innocently asked.

"I... I thought you just took off. I thought you were running."

"I was running."

"No, I mean, like, I thought you were leaving."

Malia pouted, looking between Stiles and me. "I wouldn't leave without you guys." We glanced at her. "I would never leave without you two. Them I would leave."

"Yeah. Uh, it's progress." Stiles sighed. "I feel like the dad of a teenager girl." I nodded my head. Stiles and I had taken the paper of teaching Malia what she shouldn't do. The actions she must separate between a human and a were coyote.

"Don't do it again, okay?" I begged. "You scared us." She apologized. "And that doesn't look good."

"It's okay."

"Are you sure?" Kira looked worried as the rest of us. "It looks deep."

"I can feel it healing." I sighed in relief.

"You didn't see anything?" The Martin girl asked.

"Barely. It had a strong scent, though."

"Like what?" I asked while offering her water from my bottle.

She smiled at me as if she was a little puppy, grabbing the plastic bottle. "Like death."

When we finally arrived at the place where Scott and Braeden where we noticed that they were grabbing a young boy. Malia asked if that was Derek, to which Stiles replied 'Sort of'. That young boy was Derek Hale.

Derek Hale was a teenager once again.

.

.

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People in bold means it doesn’t let me tag them.

[imaginefan]

I Promise

Derek Hale X Stilinski Reader 

Word Count: 2078

Requested: Anon

Request: Hey this is my first request but would you be able to make one with stiles younger sister and derek.She sees him in her house with stiles and Scott when she comes downstairs to go to school with stiles,And she like says “hey are you rea-“. Then stops when she sees derek, and blushes etc. And stiles and Scott are like asking her if she’s okay etc and she looks read and derek can sense what it is due to being a werewolf and he starts smirking and she says she’s fine etc and they go to school in stiles Jeep and derek comes with themAnd they keep on bumping into each other all the time and one time he saves her etc and they start to like each other a lot and then they secretly date but then get found out by stiles.Also derek gets super protective of her and no one knows why and he tries to brush it off etc and he keeps on getting jealous when other boys look at her.Thank you :)

A/N: I think I got a bit carried away with this one, I just kept writing I really enjoyed this one though and might write a part 2 for myself but let me know if your interested.

Stiles often thought that he was good at hiding things from you but it became very clear very quickly that he was terrible at you, you being his younger twin meant that you were often the one to see him doing weird hard to explain things when your ad was at work and you were the one that was covering things up for him before long you found out what it was that he was hiding and in some ways wished that you never had to deal with it but the truth of the matter was there was no way that you were getting away from it.

The first time that you met Derek you had been the last one to get ready for school, you were headed down the stairs "Hey are you guys rea-" You stopped when you saw Derek in the kitchen, Stiles and Scott looked back in time to see you blush. "Are you okay?" Stiles asked, "you look a little red." "She's fine," Derek said a smirk on his face and Stiles looked between the both of you before his eyes widened. "No!" He said as he pointed at you. "Can we just go to school?" You asked. "Yeah about school." Stiles scratched the back of his head. "Look I don't care how many classes you skip, I'm not skipping any and you're the one that got the Jeep so you're dropping me to school." You ordered and you nodded. "How about we all drop you to school," Derek suggested. "It's quicker." "Whatever just hurry up or I'll drive it myself." You threatened as you grabbed the keys on the way out.

"You are blissfully unaware for being the sheriff's daughter," Derek said as he walked up next to you. "I'm not unaware of anything." You mumbled. "What are you doing out here anyway?" He asked. "Walking home." You answered. "Where's your hyperattentive brother?" He asked. "Probably off chasing supernatural with Scott." You shrugged as you looked through your bag for your keys and coming up empty, when you looked up Derek was holding them up in his hand. "You were talking about my keys earlier." You said in realisation and he smiled before handing them over. "Be careful, I'm not always going to be around to find your keys for you." He said before he was gone, you rolled your eyes before walking up to your front door and walking into the house.

From that night onwards it seemed like you bumped into Derek everywhere even when you were with your brother and it was becoming increasingly common for him to be overprotective when it came to you being involved in anything and that was why you probably shouldn't have been but you were out late one night, Stiles and Scott were at Lydia's party and it was a full moon but  then you saw Lydia, you knew that she was supposed to be at her party but she looked completely zoned out as she dragged Derek to her car, you knew that you weren't going to be able to keep up with her so you tried to call Stiles but when he didn't answer the phone "Useless." You muttered as you did your best to follow her which was definitely easier when she hit the dirt road of the preserve because you could follow her tyre tracks. When you got there, you saw Peter coming out of the house, your eyes widened as you hid behind a tree hoping that he hadn't seen you, you moved when you heard Lydia's car leave. You ran into the house and saw Derek on the floor, you fell to your knees ignoring the fact that in any other situation you would have taken a second to admire him and shaking his shoulders "Derek!" You called. "You can not be dead, I'm sure you've been through worse." "You might need something a little louder," Deaton suggested making you just as you looked around to see him, he was holding something in his hand and you were out of options so you nodded. You didn't hear anything but Derek did. He was awake within seconds, he looked over at you for a second before looking at the floorboards. "That sound, what was it?" Derek asked as he looked back at Deaton who held up the whistle in his hands, he rolled his eyes before touching his arm. "Don't worry. You're still an Alpha, not a particularly competent one." Deaton said "Where is he?" He asked. "I don't know," Deaton answered. "Then why don't you tell me why you're helping me?" He asked as he stood up. "Helping your family used to be pretty important to me." Deaton answered "Helping you was a promise I made to your mother." "You're the one my sister told me about a... Kind of adviser." Derek said. "She was right. And I have some advice that you need to listen to very closely right now. What Peter managed to do doesn't come without a price. He'll be physically weak, so he'll rely on the strength of his intelligence, his cunning. He's gonna come at you, Derek. He'll try to twist his way inside your head, preying on your insecurities. He'll tell you that he's the only way you can stop Gerard. Do not trust him." Deaton warned. "I don't trust anyone," Derek said and you rolled your eyes. "Edgy much?" You muttered to yourself which he of course heard. "I know. If you did, you might be the Alpha you like to think you are. And unfortunately, the one person you should trust doesn't trust you at all." Deaton explained. "Scott." Derek sighed. "He's with Stilinski right now. You need to find him, you need to find him as fast as you can. I've known Gerard for a long time. He always has a plan. Something tells me - it's going exactly the way he wants it to." Deaton answered.

You had been with Scott and Matt when the Argents started shooting, you had hidden under one of the tables, hands pressed against your eyes as you tried to stay hidden, the smoke helped and all the noise stopped the Kanima from coming back to find you, you don't actually know how long you were there for before someone crouched in front of you, they grabbed your wrist and you pushed away from them, your eyes opening for a second and catching that it was Derek, he gestured for you to come out "What are you doing back here, they'll kill you if they find you." You scolded him and he rolled his eyes before picking up. "Well, I'm not leaving you here." He muttered as he pressed your face to his shoulder "Keep your head down." It only took a couple of minutes for Derek to get you out  "Are you okay?" "I think so." You answered as he put you on the ground. "Wait here until everything is over." He said and you looked at him and nodded. When you finally got home that night, you didn't know what to do with yourself, you paced for a second before you were sitting on your bed, hands ran through your hair before you pressed the heel of your palm to your eyes in an attempt to stop yourself from crying. You looked up at your window when you heard it open but a second later Derek was in your room. "What are you doing here?" You asked wiping at your eyes but he just walked over and sat next to you pulling you into his side. "I wasn't going to come in but I think you need someone." He said softly and that was all it took for you to cry wrapping your arms around him as he pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

Everything was fine for a couple of days Derek came to see you and make sure that you were okay but then everything changed after he tried to kill Jackson, you stopped talking to him, you started locking your window and made an effort to be with Scott and Stiles and never being out late, that is until everything started up again and a pack of Alphas made their way into Beacon Hills and you knew that you were going to have to see him again "so are you going to tell me what happened between you and Derek?" Stiles asked as he walked into your room and walked over to your laptop. "What are you doing?" You asked. "I ran out of ink. I need your printer." He answered, "now answer my question." "Nothing happened between us." You shrugged. "So he didn't sneak into your room almost every night?" He asked you opened your mouth to lie but instead decided against it "How did you know?" You asked. "Scott could smell him on you." He answered. "Right." You nodded "well don't worry we haven't spoken since he tried to kill Jackson." "Maybe you should talk to him," Stiles suggested. The truth was that Stiles had been to see Derek with Scott to ask about the tattoo and he realised that for a few seconds he watched the door waiting for something, he was waiting for you. "What are you doing anyway?" You asked. "We found out where Boyd and Erika were being held." He answered. "So you're going to get them?" You asked. "Yeah." He nodded. "You don't need help?" You asked. "You wanna help?" He asked. "Well, I can't just sit around and do nothing." You shrugged.

The truth was the reason that you had never gone to see him was because you knew the moment that you looked at him you were going to forgive him and you had been right, you could feel him looking at you as Stiles talked "concentrate, we'll talk later." You said lowly knowing that he would hear you from your place on the sofa. "I'm thinking a diamond bit," Stiles said and you rolled your eyes. "Stiles you don't need a drill." You informed him and he looked back at you. "Sorry what?" He asked. "I'm sure the Alpha werewolf can punch through a wall." You said. "She's right." Derek agreed. "You're gonna punch through the wall?" Stiles asked. "Okay, okay, big guy. Let's see it. Let's see that fist. Big, old fist. Make it, come on. Get it out there. Don't be scared. Big, bad wolf. Yeah, look at that. Okay, see this? That's maybe 3 inches of room to gather enough force to punch through solid co..." Derek punched him and he doubled over in pain "he can do it." Stiles fell away from Derek and Scott and towards you. "Walk it off, big brother." You muttered as you clapped his shoulder and directed him back to the desk where the plans were. "try to remember that two of them combine bodies to form one giant Alpha. I'm sure Erica and Boyd were sweet kids. They're gonna be missed." You heard Peter say. "Can someone kill him again please?" Stiles asked. "What about you?" Derek asked as he looked at Scott. "If you want me to come-" "You're not going!" and "Not you!" Said at the same time yours and Derek's voices overlapping and cutting off your brother as he realised the question was directed at Scott.

When Derek came back the next morning his heart warmed at what he found, you were still on the sofa where he'd left you before, he walked over and crouched in front of you, he gently shook you away and it took a moment but you shot up eyes widening "what happened?" You asked. "Nothing, I'm fine don't worry." He said softly. "What are you still doing here?" You're going to be late for school." He said. "I promised we would talk." You reminded him and he nodded. "I'm sorry for avoiding you and basically cutting you out of my life, I just didn't know what to do after everything that happened I was scared that you... didn't need me anymore or that you didn't want me anymore and-" He cut you off by pressing a kiss to your lips. "I will always need you and I will never stop wanting you." He promised. "I'm sorry about everything with Jackson and I know that's not enough but I promise nothing like that will ever happen again."

*Part 2*

Requests and general question!

[maxineswritingcenter]

You Saved Me - Derek Hale x fem!reader part 4

I’m really chugging these out. Mostly because its practically written already. But I will let you know that in the original, I did write in “blue orbs” so you can assume how much I had to fix. 

----------------------------

“Um, hi.” I said, very surprised and confused that he was here. 

“We need to talk.” 

“As you mentioned. But we can’t talk here, you are a suspect in a crime and this is the sheriff’s house.” I crossed my arms over my chest. 

“Then can I get my jacket back, since you don’t want to be associated with a criminal.” This was the first time he had shown any sort of emotion besides seriousness. Granted, it was condescending. 

“I didn’t say I didn’t want to be associated with you.” I handed him his jacket, a little sad to see it go, “You saved my life, I just don’t want you to get in trouble.” 

“A little late for that.” He said, putting his jacket on. 

“What’s going on?” I asked, stepping closer to him. He looked at me warily (as if he needed to be wary of me) but didn’t move away. 

“You wouldn’t understand.” Usually, I would reply ‘then make me understand’, but I was still on the fence about him. He perked up a bit, like he was hearing something. 

“Here.” He held out his closed hand, I held mine out and he dropped my locket into my hands. I gasped, reaching up to my neck and realized it wasn’t there. I looked down at the locket.

“Oh my god, thank you. I would have never forgiven myself if I lost-” I looked up and realized I was talking to no one, “And you disappeared. Okay.” My phone beeped in my pocket and saw a text from Stiles move across the screen.

“Scott woke up in the woods and ran into a swimming pool this morning.” I read aloud. This town was starting to just become weirder and weirder. It was a nice distraction from my own personal life, but now it was getting borderline concerning. 

- 

At practice, Stiles filled in Scott and I on what he had heard over the police radio. The body, or half of the body, had been sent into the LA coroner’s office where the lad had found animal hair, specifically wolf hair. Scott wasn’t paying too much attention though, he looked like he was in his own little world. 

It was the first scrimmage game of the year and Coach was pretty excited, which wasn’t his usual tune. As the game started, I watched Scott pull off the craziest moves I had ever seen attempted on the field. He was moving so incredibly fast and he even flipped over someone and scored a goal at the same time! Finstock looked like his head was about to explode, which meant that he was happy. Or at least I think so. In a time out, he waved Scott over. 

“What in god’s name was that? This is a lacrosse field. You wanna try out for some gymnastics team?” 

“No, Coach.” Scott said. What I found weird was that his breathing was that of someone who had normal lungs and never had a breathing problem in his life. That just gave me a weird feeling, something that would stick with me for the rest of the night. 

“What the hell was that?” Coach asked, motioning to the field. 

“I-I don’t know. I guess trying to make the shot.” 

“Yeah, well, you made the shot. And guess what? You’re startin’, buddy.” Coach smiled, slapping a shocked Scott’s shoulder, “You made first line.” 

 Scott grinned looking between Finstock and me. I put on a smile. I was happy for Scott, but there was too much weird going on. 

-

I managed to beat Stiles home, even though he was driving like a maniac. I grabbed his arm as he walked up the driveway, “What is going on?” He shook my arm off.

“Leave me alone.” He grumbled, stomping through the house, up to his room and slamming the door shut. It was times like this that knowing Stiles well came in handy. He was pissed. And talking to him about it had a ten percent chance of working. They had put him in therapy when his mom died and the therapist told Uncle Noah that when Stiles was mad, it would be better to let him cool off on his own. 

Scott was at the door soon after, after letting him in, I patted his shoulder, “Good luck.” I could hear the arguing from my room, but the words were muffled by insulation. Things used to be so normal before, but it seems like the fires in this town caused unnatural things to occur. 

Maybe it was time I asked Derek some weird questions. Was this a good idea? Absolutely not. Regardless, I needed answers.

As I drove the dark back roads to get to the Hale house, I noticed that the moon was full. I hummed absentmindedly to my music and argued with myself on whether or not this was a good idea. It probably wasn’t.

-

I debated on whether or not to knock. The door was already halfway open and the whole back of the house was practically missing. I opted to knock. 

“Derek?” I called, after stepping inside, “Derek, it’s (Y/N). We need to talk. There are a lot of weird things going on and I need answers.” I turned and when I saw Derek standing right behind me, I thought my heart almost stopped. 

“Jesus, you gotta stop doing that.” I sighed in relief.

“What are you doing here?” That seemed to be his favorite question to ask, “Didn’t your parents tell you not to go out on full moons?” Oddly specific. But it was true, my parents never let me go out on a full moon. And when I was younger they would drop me off at Uncle Noah’s house, they called it a date night. 

“Actually, yes. How did you know that?” I narrowed my eyes at him. 

“You need to go home. Now.” He turned me around, pushing me towards the door. 

“Hey hey hey, no no no.” I dug my heels into the floor, “I came here to talk to you. Something weird is going on and it involves you. I know it does.”  

“You could not have come at a worse time.” He grumbled. 

“Listen here, Hale, I came here for answers and I intend to get them so I’m not going anywhere until-” I was cut off by Derek throwing me over his shoulder and hurriedly taking me outside. I pounded his back with my hands and kicked my legs. But he was too strong for me to move.

“Put me down! Derek!” He growled and set me back on my feet in front of my car door. He slammed his hands on the car, caging me between the door and his body. He was so warm, actually radiating heat. I tried to fight the blush that was creeping on my cheeks. 

“Why are you so stubborn?” He raised his eyebrows. He was so close and his actions made me speechless, “And why aren’t you scared of me? If you were smart you would go out of your way to avoid me like everyone else.” I finally found my voice. 

“Well, clearly I’m not like everyone else. I can see that something fishy is going on. Scott is practically bouncing off the walls all after being attacked by something in the woods. And you were talking about something in the woods so that means you know what it is, so tell me!” I shouted the last bit. Our eyes locked. It was hard not to look away, his stare was so intense. 

He sighed, “Fine.” He backed away, the cool night bringing a chill back after being so close to him. 

“Meet me in the woods by your house tomorrow. I’ll answer your questions.” 

“All of my questions?” I asked, a small tremble in my voice. 

“Don’t push it.” He looked around, clenching and unclenching his hands, “Now go home.” And I did, I got in my car and left. I was going to get my answers. 

-

“Arrested?!” I shouted in disbelief. I’m sure Uncle Noah took the phone from his ear.  

“We had to take him in. That body in the woods was his sister, Laura.” He said. Laura Hale was a name I vaguely recognized, but I never met her before. 

“We aren’t convicting him, but he’s already a suspect in his family’s deaths and now that we found his sister, he doesn’t look entirely innocent.”

“Derek wouldn’t hurt anybody.” 

“(Y/N), you don’t know that.” 

“He didn’t hurt me. He brought me to the hospital.” 

“And that is one of the reasons why I am giving him the benefit of the doubt.” He said, then sighed, “Look, we don’t have anything to hold him over night. We’re just getting his statement and then he’s free to go. As long as he doesn’t leave the area. Now I gotta go, I’ll see you at home.” 

“Okay, see you later.” I hung up the phone and fell back on my bed, staring up at the ceiling. Derek couldn’t have killed his sister. Especially cutting her in half. Or at least, that’s what I hoped. It scared me though, to think that Derek could be capable of that. But, no, he couldn’t be. He was the victim of happenstance. I think. But Laura had been out there a while, so the possibility of Michael was high. By running was he trying to frame Derek? 

They found wolf fur on Laura’s body and while it doesn’t explain who killed it did say something about the area. It seems like the wolf population is coming back. They could have come from somewhere else in search of food or maybe the national wildlife service moved them in to control the deer population. I feel like everyone would have heard about that though, at least an email or something. 

-

After dinner, I decided to go into the woods to see if Derek would actually meet up with me. I told Stiles that I was going on a walk to clear my head. A few minutes into the woods, I decided to wait instead on a boulder in a clearing near the creek. I had only been there maybe ten minutes when I heard the footsteps approaching. I smiled and stood. 

“Now is it that hard to make your presence known?” I turned and stared, but the person I was looking at was not Derek. It was Michael. 

He smiled, tilting his head to the side, “Hey, sweetheart. Miss me?” 

“Stay away from me.” My body started to tremble, “Stay back!” I backed up, keeping my eyes on him but cursed myself when my back hit a tree. Michael closed the gap between us, leaning closer. I turned my head away, listening to him sniff my hair. 

“You smell so good.” He hummed. 

“Get away from me.” Tears made their way down my cheeks. 

“C’mon. Just relax.” He placed his hands on either side of my face. 

“No, NO!” I screamed, and shoved him. He fell back a few feet, looking surprised at my strength. I looked down at my hands, then him. He was pissed.

“Alright, enough fooling around.” He got up and I started running. I didn’t get too far, Michael had always been fast. I heard him stumble, but he grabbed my foot, bringing me down to the ground. 

“HELP!” I screamed, “SOMEBODY!” 

“Nah, not this time.” he dragged me up from the ground, wrapping his arms around my body and beginning to drag me towards the creek. I struggled, thrashing my torso and legs. 

“HELP! DEREK!” I shouted, hoping that he was nearby, coming to meet with me like he said he would. Michael turned me in his arms, gripping tight. 

“Derek Hale? You shacking up with that freak?!” He shook me. 

“Michael, please, please, let me go, please.” I begged, my pleads were met with a sharp slap with the back of his hand. I yelped. 

“HELP!” I cried again. 

“Shut up! I said shut up-” A  loud roar cut him off, his grip loosening. It sounded like a bear, but when I looked to the source, my heart started to pound more than it already was. 

It was Derek, but he wasn’t entirely himself, not human. His eyes were a bright, glowing blue, his face was different. His brow bone was more pronounced. His hair grew down the sides of his face. his ears were pointed. He had large sharp fangs on his canines. He had claws on his hands. 

Derek leapt from the hill that he stood on, landing on all fours and letting out another hellish roar. He came towards us, Michael shoved me towards Derek, starting to run the other way. But Derek maneuvered around me, chasing after him. The chase went down a hill, towards the creek. What I heard next was Michael’s screaming and then a heavy sounding thud. I stood there for a while, still trying to process what the hell was happening. What is he?

My eyes shot back up to the hill, Derek was walking upright, his face and hands back to normal. I stayed in my spot, waiting for him to come up to me. He stopped, he was breathing heavily through his nose. I looked over at him, he was splattered with blood. I grabbed his hand, seeing normal fingernails and hands. My eyes then went to his face, I touched his cheeks. No more hair growing down. His eyes were back to their normal green. Derek slowly took my hands in his, bringing them back down to my sides. 

“What-What are you?” I whispered, not trusting my voice.

He looked at me for a moment before answering, “I’m a werewolf.” I left out a deep breath. Letting his words settle into my mind. 

“Are you okay?” He asked softly. I could only nod, still speechless. He softly brushed his fingers over my cheek where Michael hit me, I winced. It was already starting to feel sore. 

“Are you scared now?” He asked. I should be. I should be running for the hills. It was insanity to even believe in werewolves and yet, here one stood in front of me. 

I shook my head, “No. I do have questions though. Um, you answered one of them.” I ran a hand through my hair. He nodded, placing his hand softly on my lower back. 

“Let’s get you home.” We started walking, but I stopped us. 

“Wait, no, we can’t go there. I can’t bring you to my house. My uncle could be there and when he sees you covered in blood, he will arrest you.” I thought for a moment, “Dammit.” I had to think of something, something to protect him. Whether he saved me or not, he still killed Michael and that was still murder. 

“I got it.” I said, “Can you climb well?”

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Read part 5 here!

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Thanks so much for reading and the next part should be out soon :)

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[teenwolffan-with-nolife]

New Life Pt.9

Word Count: 2,889

Characters: Derek Hale, Laura Hale, Stefan Salvatore, Zach Salvatore, OC Characters, Reader

Pairings: Eventual Derek Hale x Reader

Warnings: angst, some fluff, TW:abuse, near-death

A/N: I’d like to clarify that this series does not have an actual plot, and that is a pre-series to another series i’m writing after

Masterlist    Series Masterlist

You zoned in and out of consciousness, everything was distorted around you. You felt the car come to a stop as you turned your head slightly, facing Jay.

“Hey, how do you feel?” he asked softly.

“Let me go, please,” you begged.

“Oh, (Y/N), the fun's just getting started,” he stroked your cheek, as you sniffled.

“I have something that’ll make it feel better,” he parked the car, walking out to the trunk.

Here’s my chance

You pulled the handcuffs off gently, you always had a bobby pin on you to pick locks.

Make a run for it, (Y/N)

You opened the door slowly, looking around for Jay before quickly running forward, feeling him wrap his arms around you tightly as you cried out.

“Oh, where do you think you’re going?” he held onto you, dragging you back to the car.

“You have to let me go. Y-You left Derek on the… please let me go,” you cried softly.

“You know, I wanna know more about Derek. You three seem awfully fond of him,” he led you back into the car before you let out a shaky breath.

“On second thought, tell me more about him later. Take this,” he motioned to a vial in his hand as you shook your head.

“What is that?” you asked softly.

“I told you, it’ll make you feel better,” he replied.

“No, I don't want it,” you shook your head.

“(Y/N), be a good girl. Don’t make me force you,” he raised an eyebrow, while he put his fingers through your hair, grabbing your head.

“Stop,” you whimpered.

“Shh, take it, (Y/N),” he grabbed your chin, forcing your mouth open as you pushed him away once more.

“You bitch,” he grabbed onto your head again, pushing it down as you felt it hit the roof of the car, falling unconscious.

“Why is it so hard for you to listen?” he lifted your unconscious body, wrapping rope around you as he tied you to the seat.  

He wiped the blood from your forehead, before grabbing your chin, opening your mouth as he poured the liquid down your throat.

He locked your door, before making his way back to the driver’s seat.

Only 100 miles to go.

---

“Hey, what the hell happened here?” Derek paced around the house, tears at the brim of his eyes as Stefan and Laura entered the house. 

“Where’s Zach?” Derek’s voice broke.

“I don’t know. What happened, Derek? Where’s (Y/N)?” Derek let out a shaky breath, looking up at Stefan.

“There was some guy here. He took her,” Derek held back his cries as Laura put her hand on his shoulder, pulling him in.

“He didn't do anything to me. He gave me something and I just woke up on the doorstep,” Derek cried softly.

“How long ago did he leave with her?” Stefan asked.

“Last night. All her weapons… why didn't you answer her calls?” 

Your vision was blurred, you could barely make out the faces around you. You felt like you were floating, finding it hard to keep your balance and stay vertical.

You felt Jay’s grip on you, pulling you out of the car.

“I don’t feel well,” you said softly, your words sounding slurred.

“You’ll get used to it,” he replied.

“I thought you said I was gonna feel better,” you slurred.

“I said it will feel better, meaning your wounds. You can’t feel them now, right?” you struggled to make out where you were, it was somewhere dark.

“I feel…” you couldn't find the words, fighting to keep your eyes awake.

“It’s like being high minus the fun part,” he finished.

You groaned softly, walking into a house.

“Where are we?” your voice was weak.

“This was my parent’s house. I found their bodies right…” he pulled you further into the house, leading you to what you’d assume to be the living room.

“Here. This entire place was covered in their blood,” you felt his grip on you tighten.

“So, what's your big plan now?” you scoffed.

“Well, for starters, I know there’s a group of hunters coming near here tomorrow,” he explained.

“So you’re just gonna kill them?” 

“You’re saying that like they don’t deserve it. They all have it coming,” you shook your head, before he pulled you away.

“Hungry? I know how to make… well… I can warm up some macaroni,” he sat down next to you, pulling you to a table.

“You haven’t told me why I’m actually here,” you said softly.

“Think of it as being the bait. You’re a hunter, you know how they think and how they are. You can lure hunters in while I finish them off,” you ran your fingers through your hair.

“No.”

“You won't have a choice. You know, vampires have compulsion, right?” he walked behind you, putting his hands on your shoulders.

“What I have is more like mind-control. You don’t do what I say, it’ll feel like you’re dying. You can't take that type of pain,” you felt a tear fall from your cheek before he wiped it away, resting his hand on your neck.

“I’m gonna kill you,” you cried.

“Maybe one day, but for now-” he put his hands on your head, while you cried out, feeling him press down on it.

His eyes glew a light gray, while you felt your consciousness leaving you once again.

---

Derek dialed your number, walking outside to his balcony as he wiped away his tears. It went to voicemail as he let out a shaky breath.

“Hey, loser. It’s been a while,” he said softly.

He felt tears rush to his eyes as he paused.

“It’s almost a whole month. We can't find you anywhere,” he said softly.

It was sometime past midnight, as he looked up at the sky.

“I miss you.”

“Do me a favor and call me back when you can, okay? At least let us know if you’re alive,” he hung up the call, his hands shaking as he rested his head in his hands.

“Hey,” Laura walked up to Derek, before wrapping her arms around him tightly.

“I should’ve helped her,” he said.

“This isn’t your fault kiddo. We’re going out tomorrow to go look for her again. Zach said you can come,” Derek nodded softly in response.

“Why can't we pick up her scent?” Derek asked softly.

“We can’t find it anywhere. I’ve been looking as hard as I can. It’s like she’s…” her voice drifted off, seeing the pain in Derek’s face.

“Like she’s dead,” he finished.

“We don’t know for sure. We’re not gonna rest until we at least find her body, worst-case scenario. Go to bed, it’s getting late,” he sighed, before nodding once more.

Laura kissed his forehead, before leaving his room.

---

You wrapped your arms around yourself, looking around the room carefully. The clock said it was 8:38, but you couldn't see the sun or anything to confirm. Tears rushed down your face, remembering the events of the previous nights. He was in control of you, he forced you to help him kill those hunters. You remember them yelling out for you, crying.

You heard the door open, seeing Jay walk into the room.

“Hey,” he pressed his lips to yours as you pulled away.

“We’ll work on that too. How are you feeling?” he asked.

You kept your eyes off of him, staying silent.

“The first time’s always hard. It’ll get easier,” he replied.

You felt your arm aching, as you frowned, looking down at it. Your face dropped, seeing a small green light inside your arm.

“Oh, it’s just a tracker. Don’t want you to run off. Which reminds me, it's time for your next dose,” he reached behind you, grabbing a small box.

“Here you go,” he opened a small vial, handing it to you.

You wiped away your tears, before taking it from him. Taking it was always better than the alternative.

“Good girl,” you coughed softly, as he stroked your cheek.

“I’m having a good time with you here, you know,” he pressed a kiss to your forehead as you remained stiff.

“Breakfast in ten. I’m thinking some pancakes,” he walked out of the room, while you bit your lip, wrapping your arms around your head to refrain from crying out.

All you wanted was to be back home and be safe.

---

“It’s been almost two months. School starts next week. I told Emily and Dean that you were out of town, you went on vacation. They kept asking a lot of questions,” Derek walked around his room, leaving another voicemail for you. It became his coping mechanism, the thought of hearing your voice on the other end.

“Promise me that you’ll kill that asshole,” Derek laughed softly, before pausing.

“I miss you,” he ended the call, before sighing. He walked out of his room, walking to yours.

He looked around, everything was the same as before. Your bed was unmade, all your weapons were out, lined up in a perfect order. 

---

You waited for Jay to fall asleep, his arms around your body. You pushed yourself up slowly, making sure he didn't wake up. Your escape plan was perfect. You knew all the entrances of the house, you knew where everything was located. You felt slightly dizzy, putting your hand on the wall next to you. Your entire body ached, filled with all the wounds and bruises left by Jay. If you tried to escape you’d get hurt. If you disobeyed him, you would get hurt. If you did something he didn’t like, you would get hurt.

Every time you attempted something, it would always go bad. It had been nearly two months of this hell, you were ready to leave. All this had been death and pain. 

You walked out of the room, making your way to the kitchen as you grabbed a knife, pressing it against your arm.

You held back a cry, feeling the blood dripping down your arm as you put the knife down, reaching for the tracker.

You pulled it out, before wrapping a cloth around your cut.

You reached for the box of matches, seeing something fall before you quickly caught it, covering your mouth.

You stayed frozen, listening out for any noise or sign that Jay was awake.

You let out a shaky breath, before walking towards the door.

“Where the hell do you think you’re going?” you jumped, hearing Jay’s voice behind you.

“I’m leaving,” you spat.

“(Y/N)...” his eyes went gray as you felt your head pressing in as you winced softly.

Your head was aching, as you tried to keep strong.

“No,” you lit a match, holding it out in front of you.

“Don’t be stupid, (Y/N),” you reached for the knife on the counter behind you, holding it tightly.

You heard Jay chuckle, shaking his head.

“We had such a good time together. Why are you ruining it?” he frowned.

“I want to go back,” you said.

You could feel your head pounding, your vision blurring slightly.

Jay ran to you, pushing you back before you dropped the match, seeing the rug on fire.

“Oh, you-” Jay put his hand in your hair, pulling you up as you yelled out.

You took the knife, using all your strength to push it through his chest.

You saw him freeze, feeling his body go limp as he leaned against you.

You stood in shock, watching him fall in front of you as tears rushed to your eyes before you put your hand over your mouth.

Your headache went away, you could feel your heart racing in your chest.

Shit! The fire

You snapped from your thoughts, running out of the house.

---

You stop frozen in front of the Salvatore house, it had been a day since you left and burned down Jay’s house.

He’s dead now, (Y/N)

You tried to breathe in slowly, before feeling your chest tighten, feeling a sob erupt as you closed your eyes, putting your hands on your head.

It’s okay, it's okay

You wiped away your tears, walking to the front door. You couldn't find your key, using the spare to open the door before you walked into the house.

You saw Zach in front of you, looking straight across from you in shock, seeing your face. He hung up the call he was on, walking slowly towards you.

“(Y/N)?” he said softly.

You nodded, finding it hard to speak as he ran to you, wrapping his arms around you tightly.

“Oh my god. Y-You’re alive,” you felt tears rush to your eyes as you buried your face into his neck, before nodding your head quickly.

“Are you hurt?” he asked softly.

You motioned to your arm, before he pulled you to the side.

“No one else is home right now. God,” he pressed his lips to your forehead before following him to the kitchen, where he kept his first-aid kit.

You watched as he cleaned your wound, shaking slightly. You couldn't bring yourself to say anything still.

“What did he do to you, (Y/N/N)?” you wiped your tears, sniffling softly as Zach spoke.

“Hey,” Zach put his hand on your shoulder as you rested your head on his shoulder.

He stroked your back, holding you close.

“I’m sorry,” your voice broke as he frowned slightly, looking at you as he put his hands on either sides of your face.

“Nothing here is your fault, kid,” Zach replied softly.

“I killed-” your voice broke as you stopped yourself, feeling your heart rate increasing.

“Shh, it's okay. We don’t have to talk about this right now, okay?” you nodded as he pressed a kiss to your forehead once again.

“Jesus. What the hell happened to your arm?” Zach laughed softly as you stayed quiet.

He began to sterilize your wound, while you winced, feeling the alcohol pour through it. He continued to clean it, wrapping up a bandage on it as you remained quiet.

Memories of the past two months came back to your head as you closed your eyes, holding back your tears.

It’s okay, he’s dead

He finished wrapping up your wound before you heard the front door open. Laura, Stefan, and Derek were back.

You walked to the door, pausing as you heard it slam shut.

“We’re gonna keep looking-” Stefan started.

“It’s been two months already!” you heard Derek yell, feeling your heart drop.

“We’ve been looking for two months and we’re not getting any closer to finding her,” his voice broke as Laura walked to him.

“We’re trying what we can,” she said softly.

“We need to try harder. Maybe we should ask Emily and Dean what they know about Jay,” he started.

“I told you no already, we’re not bringing anyone else into this,” Stefan scoffed.

“Which part of you thinks I care? (Y/N)'s gone and it’s my fault. I don’t care who’s part of this or not. I want to find her and I want her to be okay,” you wiped your face, before walking out from behind the wall.

“It wasn’t your fault,” you heard Laura gasp, while Derek paused, slowly turning to face you.

“Oh my god,” in an instant he ran to you, wrapping his arms around you tightly.

You hugged him back, closing your eyes as you buried you held back your cries.

“I’m sorry,” he cried softly.

He buried his head in your neck as you stroked it softly, pressing a small kiss to his forehead.

“This isn’t your fault,” you shook your head.

You could see him shaking as he let go of you. You stroked his cheek, pressing a kiss to his forehead as sniffled.

“Come here,” Stefan and Laura wrapped their arms around you, you could see tears in both of their eyes.

“Are you okay?” Stefan whispered.

“I’m fine,” you nodded.

Laura stroked your cheek, before noticing your wound.

“It doesn't hurt that-” you started, before she held your arm, taking your pain. You saw the black veins appear on her arms before she frowned. 

She looked back at you, quickly smiling softly.

“Come on, let’s go upstairs and get you out of these clothes.”

She led you upstairs, to your room before locking the door behind her.

“Take off your shirt, please,” she said softly.

Your eyes watered as you frowned.

“Why?” you asked.

“You’re in more pain than just that cut on your arm. Please, let me see,” she replied.

You slowly pulled your shirt up, hearing her gasp. Your entire stomach and body were littered with cuts and bruises.

“Don’t tell Zach please,” you whispered.

“God, what did he do to you?” she put her hands on either sides of your face, while you saw black veins appear on her arms as she took your pain.

You let out a breath of relief, before leaning into her arms.

“What Jay did to Derek…” you started.

“Derek’s fine. Look, we don't need to talk about this right now. It’s already late. You look exhausted and dirty. I want you to take a shower and go to bed,” you nodded, hugging her once more before making your way to the bathroom, letting your tears fall freely.

I’m home now, I’m safe

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[softranswolves]

For It May Not Be My Time

Fandom: Teen Wolf

Rating: Teen

Ships: n/a

Characters: Derek Hale, Laura Hale, Lydia Martin, Stiles Stilinski, Deaton

Words: 1598

LAURA HALE APPRECIATION WEEK - DAY FOUR THEME: resurrection

When Lydia shows up at his door to tell him his name unlocked the last of the list, he doesn't react. He knows Braeden is watching him, gauging how he responds. He knows Lydia will slowly come down from her premonition and switch to fix-it mode. She came alone, not wanting him to feel subjected to the pack's stares, but he knows that Stiles knows, and the kid has never been great at keeping pertinent information quiet.

He insists that he's fine each time he's asked, Braeden deciding to let him stew in whatever he's feeling while Scott and Stiles try to get more out of him. The latter goes so far as to goad Derek, trying to taunt him into talking but that isn't something they've ever done and he doesn't plan on starting now. It's easy to push back when they ask, because he's being honest. He isn't looking forward to dying, but he's resigned to it, knowing he's made his mother proud, made his family proud. He's worked to right the wrongs Peter has done, making Hale a respectable name again. Maybe he'll get to be with them soon.

"She didn't show you the whole list, did she?" Stiles asks a few days later. The whole pack has been working overtime to protect their own and figure out who is behind the deadpool in the first place. Kira returned after staying in hospital with her mom, and Scott has taken some time away from everyone to be alone with her, leaving Stiles with nobody else to pester.

"Why does it matter, Stiles? I'm marked for death, I know that already." He's exasperated but tolerant, realizing he might actually end up missing the banter they have. His gaze doesn't leave the gun he's reassembling, a task Braeden gave him for when he needs something to fill the spare time.

"Because there's a name on it that might draw your attention, sour wolf." Stiles is serious, and while this has become the norm after his possession, it's still out of place.

"So? Who was it?" He can hear the uptick in Stiles' pulse, scents anxiety in the air, but maintains his focus. If he engages, Stiles may take it as invitation for another attempt at a heart-to-heart.

There's no response for a moment, just the sound of paper unfolding, before a crumpled sheet slides into Derek's line of sight. He looks up at Stiles, who crosses his arms and simply nods toward the paper to emphasize Derek should look at it. Obliging, he scans the sheet, landing on a name two-thirds down the list.

"That's not possible," he says, eyes stuck on the letters. He doesn't pay attention to the numbers, just that string of impossibility.

"Are you sure?" Stiles asks, voice tense but gentle.

"You saw her body, you know it's not possible."

"Also shouldn't be possible for Peter to be alive, what with his quasi-possession of Lydia a few months ago, yet here we are."

Silence blossoms between them, and Derek thanks the universe for Stiles letting him sit with the information.

"Could it be outdated? Maybe the list isn't live, maybe it was made years ago," Derek suggests. He looks up to Stiles, eyes wide in hopeful shock. The only response he gets is a shrug as Stiles considers and starts to pace, running a hand through his hair in contemplation.

"I mean, it could be. We still don't know anything about it besides where the money came from. Lydia says she can feel a tangible thread to Laura, but she never met her and couldn't say for sure what it means."

Derek nods, standing to look out the window in thought.

"Have you talked to Deaton? Maybe he knows something, being human like you."

"We were kind of waiting to see what you wanted us to do," Stiles says. "She was your sister, after all, and there's no way we're bringing it to Peter without you. Y'know, her literal murderer?" He's pushing at Derek's buttons again, but this time he doesn't mind quite as much. He just nods again before turning back to Stiles.

"We can take the Camaro," Derek says, walking toward the door after grabbing a jacket and his keys."Though we should stop to pick up Lydia."

"Why Lydia?" Stiles asks as he follows after Derek.

"She can explain to Deaton what feelings she's having about Laura. He may be able to interpret them better than you or I could."

"Makes sense." Stiles is quiet after that, not saying anything for so long that Derek thinks it may be the longest he's gone without talking.

While he may have preferred this conversation to happen between the veterinarian and himself privately, he knew Lydia and Stiles would be useful at asking questions he may not consider and keep Derek from going too far off the deep end. The last time he'd been in a room with him alone was the night he kidnapped Deaton, thinking him to be the Alpha at the time. Things may have changed but he still kept his distance.

The boys drive to the Martin house, texting Lydia to join them, and continue the last few minutes to the Vet Clinic. Lydia was unsurprised when she sat down in the car, but seems uneasy around Derek, as though his impending death prediction is making her uncomfortable. He doesn't let himself dwell on it, instead focusing on clearing up his confusion.

"To what do I owe this pleasure?" Deaton asks when the trio arrives, motioning to the chairs in the back to sit in. Lydia takes a seat while Stiles continues the pacing he had started at the loft, and Derek simply hands Deaton the list of names.

"See anyone on there that shouldn't be? Any impossible names jumping out?" His voice is raised despite his efforts, and he clenches his fists to ground himself.

"I do," Deaton starts, his usual tone of knowing more than the rest of the room. "What do you think?" He directs the question at Lydia.

"I think... it's not an accident that her name is there," Lydia tries. "These lists, they don't feel arbitrary, as if everyone supernatural in Beacon Hills was added. Cora isn't on there, and as far as we know she's alive." She doesn't seem to want to meet Derek's eye, but he can understand it.

"So you think she's alive." It's a statement, not a question, but Derek' bluntness cuts through the room.

"I didn't say that," Lydia says quietly. "She doesn't feel dead, but she also doesn't feel alive either. It's not the same as when you were taken by Kate, but it's similar." She stands and puts her hand on top of Derek's, a similar motion to a few weeks ago when he'd been lying on the same table they're gathered around now, only a teenaged version of himself.

"So where does that leave us?" Stiles asks. He notes the way Derek has gone tense, and decides to push once more. "Derek, what's wrong? Isn't it a good thing if your sister is still with us?"

He's leaning over the table, arms holding his weight up at the edge, and he shakes his head, smiling to himself a little.

"I was so ready to die," he breathes out. "I'm just so... tired, and when Lydia told me my name was a key for the deadpool? I was relieved. I could stop fighting, stop pretending I know what the hell I'm doing, and be with her again."

Lydia reaches her arm up to rub circles against his back, feeling his sigh beneath her hand.

"The others, I miss them everyday. But for years it was just me and Laura against the world. I don't know what I'm supposed to do if she's alive somehow."

"You keep fighting," a voice chimes in, and it's familiar, too familiar. Derek spins around to see his older sister standing there, a sad smile on her face as she plays with the pendant hanging from her neck.

"Laura? Wha- how?" Derek is frozen in place, mouth hanging open as he stumbles over his words trying to speak properly.

"I'm sorry, Derek, I'm so sorry." She rushes forward to pull him into a hug before taking a step back, holding him at arm's length. "You've grown in just these past few months, Der. Look at you." She has tears in her eyes and laughs a little.

Derek still hasn't spoken, but Laura doesn't seem to mind.

"I haven't been back too long, I promise. I just needed to get my bearing before I came back into your life, especially considering how mine ended."

"How did you come back?" Stiles cuts in, curiosity getting the better of him. Laura turns to look at him but someone else answers first.

"Peter," Lydia says. "It happened when I brought back Peter, didn't it?" Her voice is small, shaking slightly as she recalls those traumatic months, only part of which she actually remembers.

"You're the smart one, aren't you?" Laura answers. "I still don't really know how, and Deaton hasn't been able to fully explain it either. But yes, when you resurrected him, it ended up like a package deal. Whether it was some karmic twist of fate or just Hale blood keeping us bound together, I'm back. And apparently being hunted despite only the people in this room knowing I'm alive." She scoffs at this last bit, turning her attention back to Derek.

"I'm back, baby brother. What do you say we figure this out together?"

[poisonintopositivity]

(My Very Own) Top 20 Sterek Fics

Here is my very own Top 20 Sterek Fics (out of order)

For me, these fanfictions are a “MUST READ NOW!!!” kind of deal. These authors have so much talent, it’s incredible. These stories are just marvelous and deserve LOVE ! So, I decided to share them with you.

I’ve read most of these fics several times and some of them are even my bedside table books (with Harry Potter and the Prisonner of Azcaban and Jane Eyre)

So here we go!

1:  Enemy Lines by @qhuinn -  150k - Explicit - Dystopia - Enemies to friends to lovers - Action/adventure

This is the story of werewolf Derek Hale and human Stiles Stilinski: two people who grew up in the same town but completely different worlds, their realities split by the war between men and wolves.

Years later when Derek returns to Beacon Hills, he does it as Alpha of a military pack on a mission to capture those responsible for the region’s resistance. With his main objective, Sheriff Stilinski, out of sight, he settles for the next best thing: his son, Stiles.

Neither of them suspects they’ll need to trust each other if they want to make it out this alive.

2:  Actions Speak Louder than Words by @isthatbloodonhisshirt - 435k - Explicit - The BEST and slowest burn there is - Spark Stiles/Mute Derek - Friends to Lovers

“I apologize.” The cop finally looked back up at his face, seeming thrilled. “It’s just—it’s been so long. And we finally have you.”

That was a bad word. Not found.

Have.

Stiles wrenched his hand free and took a step back, but before he could even think up a gameplan, he felt a prick in his neck and jerked away, reaching up to slap one hand against it and twisting in the same moment.

One of the others had come up behind him while he hadn’t been paying attention, and his vision began to swim even as his eyes caught sight of the half-empty syringe the guy was holding.

3: Radio Tower by @hyperlittlenori - 130k - Explicit - Dystopia - Hope - Slow Burn/Build 

Everything was different. The world he knew was gone. It’d been a long time since he’d started thinking he was probably one of the last humans on earth, that out there the only sentient beings were those that would devour him whole. He wasn’t sure why he continued with the radio broadcasts, continued to talk into nothingness. The only explanation was that there was a spark of hope in him yet that he wasn’t alone. The lonely safety Stiles has built around an old radio tower in the middle of nowhere is about to be broken. Stiles isn’t sure if Derek is a harbinger of chaos or hope at the end of the world. 

4:  The Hollow Moon by @thepsychicclam - 180k - Explicit - Fix-It - Memory Loss - Slow Burn/Build

It's the summer after Stiles' first year of college, and he's working a crappy job and dealing with nightmares and anxiety - but he's okay, he swears. He makes it through most days without too much trouble. Then, a certain werewolf comes back into town. Which Stiles doesn't care about, nope, not at all.

After two and a half years, Derek returns to Beacon Hills with his small Pack. Though he tried to move on, something just kept drawing him back to Beacon Hills, he's just not sure what. Now, he figures he can start building something like a life - but he keeps getting distracted by Stiles Stilinski of all people.

5 :  Amor Fati by @alocalband  - 43k - Explicit - Consent is sexy - First Time - Fluff & Angst

When Stiles gets thrown into the bank vault about twenty minutes after him, Derek isn’t even surprised.As it turns out, neither is Stiles.

6 :  (not so) Pure Imagination by theroguesgambit - 33k - Explicit - Shared fantasies - Angst with a happy ending - hotdamn! 

"There is a world where whenever someone fantasizes about you, you can physically feel it, but you have no idea who is thinking it about you."

Stiles knows it's wrong, but he's been Fantasizing about Derek and he can't bring himself to stop. Derek doesn't know who's taken an interest in him, but he's enjoying it way more than he probably should.

7: What I Did On My Summer Vacation by grimm - 119k - Explicit - Wolf!Derek - Slow Burn/Build - Friends to Lovers

There's something weird about Beacon Hills that Stiles can't quite put his finger on. The way everyone in town knows his name the day he arrives. The way they insist the melancholic howling that echoes through the forest every night is just a dog. The way his dad denies getting a dog, even though Stiles comes home to find one sprawled across his bed, some big black thing whose eyes gleam red in the right light. The way that massive oak tree out in the woods vibrates under his touch, pulsing with sickly life.

There's something weird going on in this town, and Stiles is determined to get to the bottom of it.

8:  Stand Fast in Your Enchantments by @devildoll - 77k - Explicit - Captivity - Feral!Derek - Angst with a happy ending

"Stiles knew damn well what a pissed-off wolf sounded like, and every hair on the back of his neck was telling him that somewhere in this room was a very pissed-off werewolf." An AU in which Derek is feral, Stiles is magical, and they eat a lot of fast food.

9 :  What Fresh Twilight Bullshit Is This? by @isthatbloodonhisshirt - 196k - Explicit - Soulmate - Slow Burn - Misunderstandings 

“I am not Bella!” he insisted, shaking his fist angrily at Jackson, as if he’d been the one to suggest he was. “I am not Bella! I am, like, a Jacob, at least!”

Lydia made a noise of debate from his right and he whipped around to look at her.

“What?! What was that sound?!”

“You’re more of a Mike,” she insisted, shrugging neatly and flipping some curls over her shoulder.

“Wha—” Stiles had never been so offended in his life! “I am not! No way! I am a solid Jacob!”

“Mike,” she argued.

“Who’s Mike?” Scott asked.

“Shut up, Scott!” Stiles insisted, pointing a finger at him but still glaring at Lydia.

10 :  taste your beating heart by @cinematicnomad​ - 112k - Mature - Pack Dynamics - Slow Burn/Build - Stilinski Family Feels

Something was wrong in Beacon Hills. Derek was halfway across the country when he felt a call to return to his hometown, and somehow Stiles had been talked into letting the werewolf stay in his guest bedroom. This could lead to nothing good.

11 :  between the click of the light and the start of the dream by @thepsychicclam 105k - Explicit - Pack Dynamics - Getting Togheter - Fluff & Angst

A twig snaps, and then Stiles hears breathing and the rustle of leaves. He strains to get a better glimpse into the darkness, but it’s pointless. There’s nothing but a black void.

It's Stiles' senior year, and he's trying to concentrate on normal things - like the lacrosse championship, spring break, prom, graduation (and definitely not Derek) - when he starts having nightmares and waking up in the middle of nowhere. Oh yeah, and he's being haunted by a hag. Great.

12:  And You Say You're Alone by taelynhawker - 30k - Explicit - Pack Dynamincs - Bad Friend Scott - Romance

Between the kanima, the Argents, and Peter's untimely return from the dead, everything has fallen apart. Stiles and Derek try to put their lives back together once the crisis has passed. Stiles deals with the aftermath of being tortured, and the distance growing between he and Scott. Derek attempts to become a stronger alpha and keep his pack safe, and that includes Stiles.

13:  Trust Fall by Stoney - 144k - Explicit - Body Swap - Hurt/Confort - Slow Burn/Build

Stiles is fairly certain that a case could be made for every bad thing in his life coming back to Peter Hale. This time it's pissing off a powerful witch, who retaliated by swapping Stiles and Derek a la Freaky Friday, because sure. That makes sense. Um, there are GPAs on the line, not to mention the whole thing where his dad wants to shoot Derek on sight. Except who he sees as Derek is actually Stiles, and Stiles did not sign up for filicide.

Great. Wait...does this mean he's the Alpha until they figure this out? Holy. Shit.

****

Derek had stood in front of the bathroom mirror for a few minutes trying to control the panic as he saw himself as Stiles. As the loud mouthed human friend of the pack. He was going to kill Peter. He was going to kill the witch, then he was going to kill Peter. Maybe even resurrect him again just to kill him all over.

They were going to have to play this cool. They would have to stay calm and focused. Which is of course why the universe threw him into this situation with someone who physically couldn't be calm and focused.

Of course.

14:  Gravity's Got Nothing on You by @zosofi - 84k - Explicit - Fake/Pretend Boyfriends - Humor - Romance

“Three weeks,” Derek says.

“Still don’t want to,” Stiles says.

“I’ll pay you,” Derek says, and that… that has Stiles interested. Alf’s Antique’s may be a great job, but it’s not a high-paying job, and half of Stiles’s tuition is coming from financial aid, so…

“How much,” Stiles asks, “are we talking here? Because I know your family, dude. And it’ll be kind of awkward after.“

“My family thinks you’re some sort of fucking gift to the world,” Derek seethes, like he’s jealous, “they’ll probably be pissed at me when we break it off, so don’t worry about that. Five hundred bucks.”

“A thousand,” Stiles says, because screw ethics. Also, the Hale family is loaded. Derek can deal.

15:  Every Step You Take by @nokomiss - 49k - Mature - Magic - UST - Secret Feelings

Stiles accidentally ends up magically bound to Derek. It’s super.

16:  Baking My Way Into Your Heart by theSilence - 179k - Mature - College AU/Coffee Shop AU - Slow Burn/Build - Friends to Lovers

Derek is an uptight college student, all work and no play. His carefully scheduled life is thrown kilter when his regular barista is replaced with someone new.

17:  Windows by @drgrlfriend - 83k - Explicit - Blind!Stiles - Friends to Lovers - Found Families 

Derek has a new neighbor who won't stop looking.

Excerpt:

“You’re blind,” Derek said flatly, the anger draining from him so suddenly he felt almost woozy. His vision cleared, his claws sliding back into blunt fingernails.

“Thanks for the memo, genius,” the kid said acidly. “I can still fucking defend myself, so don’t take another damn step.”

“Fuck, I...I’m sorry,” Derek stuttered.

“What?!” The kid’s brow crinkled. “I mean — what?! You’re fucking sorry!?” His lips thinned into a harsh line. “What, is this some kinda Hallmark movie where you’re discovering the error of your ways because you don’t want to rob a blind person?! That’s fucking condescending, man. I’ll have you know that —”

“Just, wait.” Derek interrupted what was apparently the start of a convincing argument as to why he should rob the kid after all, feeling his head start to spin. “This is — it’s a misunderstanding. I’m — I’m not robbing you. You’re — you’re safe, okay? I’m taking three steps back. Just — just let me explain.”

“Explain why you came busting into my apartment? Yeah, go right ahead, man, I can’t wait to hear this epic tale.”

18 :  Just to See You Again by MellytheHun (@loserchildhotpants​) - 15k - Explicit - Love Letters - Getting Together - College AU 

A sterek college!AU where writing student Stiles specializes in love letters, runs a blog about it and can be commissioned to write love letters on behalf of lovers who are at a loss for words.

He makes some cash, he’s good at what he does (especially when he gets to be a little more explicit in his letters), it pays for his textbooks and that’s all he’s really looking for and life is fine. That is, until someone anonymously commissions him to write a love letter to mathematics student, Derek Hale.

19:  Chasing Slumber by @hyperlittlenori - 21k - Explicit - Post-Nogitsune - Porn With Feelings - Fix it

Stiles finds solitude and a glimpse at recovering from his ordeal with the Nogitsune in a dingy motel far from Beacon Hills. Inhuman blue eyes follow his silent struggles in the darkness of the room and he can no longer pretend to sleep, pretend he hasn’t been profoundly changed by all that has happened. He can only let his fingers stretch out across threadbare but clean sheets and clench around them, in a failed attempt at not reaching for Derek.

20 :  the thread is ripping by @thepsychicclam - 36k - Explicit - Pinning - Angst with a happy ending - Flashbacks

Stiles is 27 now, with a master’s degree and a career and a house and a serious boyfriend and a life in San Francisco that doesn't include Derek. But then Stiles unexpectedly shows back up in Beacon Hills, and Derek would recognize that scent anywhere.

If you are interested, feel free to check out my Sterek Fic Recs Collections on A03.

On this lovely note, happy reading guys!

[liliaeth]

Fix it’s for Teen Wolf

I can think of a few things that would have made Teen Wolf better.

1.  I wanted more focus on Scott’s emotional response to what happened to him.  I don’t mind that Scott isn’t the type who complains about getting hurt. The problem for me was that the show rarely dealt with the consequences of Scott’s pain, and thus to the casual viewer often made it look like he simply didn’t mind, that being hurt didn’t bother him at all. Or worse, that nothing all that bad had happened in the first place.

 Doing this undermined many of the hallucination scenes.  For example, in Season 2’s Party Guessed, we get hallucinations for Stiles, Jackson, and Allison which give us a view into psychology, letting us know their issues without spelling them out.  For Scott, we got Allison making out with kanima Jackson.   Compared to the others, it felt shallow and confusing.  The writers couldn’t even bother to give us dialog.  He received the same treatment in Season 5, when they read the book designed to trigger their memories about the Dread Doctors. Stiles gets yet another scene about his dead mother who has been crucial to his story since Season 1.  Lydia sees her grandmother and her connection to both Lydia’s powers and Eichen House, as well as foreshadowing her treatment at the hands of Valack.   Malia about her Mom and sister’s death at the hands of the Desert Wolf, which is her entire arc.  And Scott?  He gets a nightmare about a dog that was never mentioned before and would not be mentioned after.

 2. I wanted more focus on Scott’s trauma in general. In Season 1, Scott was repeatedly mentally and physically violated by Peter, terrorized and abused by Derek, and hunted by the Argents, and it was taken as a given.   Even the recaps at the beginning episodes in other seasons barely show any of that.  For example, Gerard attacking Scott in clear view at the hospital, stabbing him, and threatening his mother, never appeared in any of the recaps, even in episodes where it would have been important to remind the viewers about it.

While the show had no issue showing us over and over again how Stiles or Derek or Isaac or Allison or any white character really was hurt, they did not focus on the pain Scott was put through, and thus let the viewers conclude that those events didn’t matter.

The show literally had Scott try and kill himself, twice in less than two days, first in Frayed, by refusing to let himself heal, and then again in Motel California, yet neither of those suicide attempts are mentioned even once afterwards. And this while it would have been a good call back in s5b, when Scott is once again not letting himself heal after Theo killed him. and yet again, no mention whatsoever.

 3. I wanted more consequences for certain characters.   I liked that Scott and to a lesser extent Derek were confronted with the consequences of their actions. When they screwed up, they got called out on it. When they did something wrong, it wasn’t excused.  Then they made up for it.

In contrast, certain characters, especially Stiles, got to do whatever they wanted and it was either dismissed as funny or used to make them look sympathetic.  Stiles got to be mean and cruel, and the narrative still treated him as if he were the best friend ever.  He got to assault people, hurt them, and it was treated as if somehow he was the victim. 

For example, I would have liked Stiles a lot better, if when he tortured Scott with lacrosse balls, punishing him for who-knows-what, if someone else had called him out on it or if Scott had got to defend himself, instead of just taking it because Stiles was angry.  Scott allowing Stiles to hurt him to maintain their friendship was a pattern between them, just as much as Scott taking responsibility for things that aren’t his fault.  He keeps on doing it over the course of the show, but it would have been nice if the show at the very least had made it clear that that didn’t make Stiles behavior acceptable.

Just like I wish that Peter had actually faced consequences for his actions – and/or shown some kind of true remorse for his misdeeds--instead of the others just letting him hang around after all the horrible things he’d done or reduce it pettiness.

 4. I would have liked more time spent on Melissa and the McCall family in general, especially on Melissa’s initial reaction to Scott being a werewolf. In the show, they barely spent two minutes total on Melissa’s reaction to finding out her son has been turned into a werewolf.  By the end of s6b, she was barely even behaving like a mother anymore. Even to the point where we don’t even get a conversation between her and Chris about his attacks on her son before the two of them start dating.  Now don’t get me wrong, I liked Chris and Melissa in a relationship, but it was missed opportunity to humanize both her and Scott that they didn’t bother to show her finding out about that and her reaction to it.

Instead we got the whole horror reaction, of her being horrified at seeing her son’s other face, the reaction that any LGBT kid fears when they come out to their parent. Which could have been a great metaphor, especially if they had then made it clear that Scott was bisexual.

 5. I would have liked more focus on Boyd.   The production time spent on Isaac and Erica, while Boyd’s arc was treated as almost an afterthought. We barely even got any hint on his past, in the episode before they killed him off.    They started out with Boyd as the one who wanted to be like Scott, and then never explained it.  Why not focus more on that, and their relationship?

(similar complaints go about Mason, and how little we knew about Mason, outside of him being Liam’s friend. Like... what was his relationship like with his parents? What is Mason interested in, what does he want to do with his life... how did he deal with the after effects of the Beast...

 6. I would have liked more focus on Alan Deaton. The show had such huge potential with this character’s backstory, not just with the Hales but as an emissary in general.  There was this whole mythology about druids that they barely even delved into.

To not even start on how little we knew about his personal life? Why did he and his sister have different last names? What was their relationship like?

Does he have any romantic relationships? Friendships, relationships in general?

Or how about more time spent on his role as a father figure to Scott, we got so few crumbs of their relationship when we should have gotten so much more

 7. I would have liked more focus on Scott and Theo’s interaction in Season 6.   I get that in 6a, they had Scott primarily focused on getting Stiles back, but I’ll never understand why they then didn’t use 6b, to deal with the fact that Theo had tried to murder Scott and was trying to make it up to him and the pack for what he’d done to Scott and the others.

I don’t mind Theo interacting with Liam.  Those scenes were great, but they should have at least one scene with Scott and Theo dealing with the issues between them.  For Theo’s sake, as much as Scott’s.

 8. I would have liked a complete rework of Season 6A in its entirety.  If you’re going to focus a season on an actor who isn’t available, then you have to make it about his impact on the others. Show us what difference this character made, by showing us the effects of his absence, rather than just try and make it about a romantic ship. (I’ve written a post about this already in greater detail, so limiting it to that, but seriously, that season was such a huge wasted opportunity.)

 9.  Actual character growth for Stiles. For a character who had as much screentime as Stiles did, it’s shocking just how little character growth Stiles had over the course of the entire show. This contrasts in a really bad way, when you look at how much every single other character grew and changed over the course of the show.

Just look at the last four episodes of 5b, to give an example. After almost an entire season of watching Stiles at his worst, focusing on emotional scene after emotional scene with him, he suddenly got relegated to comic relief. Why? Because they didn’t want Stiles to grow, because unless he grew, there was no way for him to go but down. If Stiles had taken responsibility for his actions, then they’d have had to admit that he did wrong in the first place. And they couldn’t have that happen.

 10. And last but not least. More moments of the kids being kids. Even if it’s just proms and beach parties. Moments where we see the characters spend time together, when they aren’t trying to stop some bad guy. Where we can see them be friends, hang out with kids their own age. Even just to remind the audience just how young these children are. And where the viewers along with the characters can rest in between the horror, because doing so makes the horror hit far more strongly in contrast to the light.

 11. Also, a better lighting budget, pretty please Davies, were a few more light bulbs that much to ask for?

[sparkandwolf]

I Can’t Even Drink Champagne (read on ao3)

Pairing: Stiles Stilinski/Derek Hale Rating: General Summary: You never said sorry, I guess you forgot. Or maybe you’re not sorry at all.

At least, Stiles wanted to believe that. Derek was chatting with people Stiles knew he could care less about and ignoring every glance that Stiles sent his way. Maybe he had read their relationship all wrong. He had thought that their fire, the spark they had between them, meant they were worth fighting for, but maybe Stiles was just as much of a fool as Derek had accused him of being. Maybe he should take one of the offered hands and run away forever without giving a second thought to Derek Hale.

(Or, the Bridgerton Musical Songfic no one asked for.)

For @sterekvalentineweek day five and seven: Champagne & Fate

What a beautiful party, I’m looking up at the ceiling a lot. The chandelier is so sparkly.

Stiles stared up at the intricate details etched into the ceiling, ignoring the pang in his heart that hadn’t seemed to disappear since the last time he laid his eyes on Derek. The last time they had truly spoken had been to fight. It was the only way they had been able to communicate since their ruse had ended. He thought back to the game they played on the townspeople and felt his chest tightening. It was never in the plan to fall for Derek but he was powerless against it once it had started. 

They had spent weeks under the guise of courting; the famous Bachelor of Beacon Hills that would never take a mate and the son of the most well-respected consort the royal family had ever seen. Stiles was grateful to have someone like Derek on his side. He trusted the plan and in the end, had some of the most eligible men in the country fighting for his hand. But Stiles didn’t want any of them even when he had felt Derek pulling away. 

When it was time to stop their ruse and for Stiles to choose a real mate, neither of them had wanted their plan to end. It didn’t matter to Stiles that Derek wasn’t always honest or shirked around the truth of his past. Stiles didn’t care about living a little differently than he intended if it meant he got to spend the rest of his life with Derek. He thought Derek had understood that as well, but all he ever did was fight. Derek’s first instinct was to argue, to berate, but Stiles knew that wasn’t who he wanted to be. 

You never said sorry, I guess you forgot. Or maybe you’re not sorry at all.

At least, Stiles wanted to believe that. Derek was chatting with people Stiles knew he could care less about and ignoring every glance that Stiles sent his way. Maybe he had read their relationship all wrong. He had thought that their fire, the spark they had between them, meant they were worth fighting for, but maybe Stiles was just as much of a fool as Derek had accused him of being. Maybe he should take one of the offered hands and run away forever without giving a second thought to Derek Hale. 

What a beautiful evening. I want to know just what the hell are you drinking?

Stiles couldn’t stop his gaze from wandering to Derek with every passing moment. Even through the chatter and laughter the echoed through the open space, Stiles was all too aware of the sounds that belonged to Derek; the husky tone of his low voice, the way he cleared his throat when he was anxious, the exasperated sighs that were like music to Stiles’ ears as he rejected yet another offer of courtship. 

Derek sipped on his flute filled with bubbles that seemed to stay on his lips, only disappearing when his tongue would slide out and pull them into his mouth. Stiles was mesmerized by everything Derek was and did, and Derek just stood there as if Stiles didn’t even exist. 

Stoic, emotionless, over us all so quickly. What am I missing? 

“Are you okay, Stiles?” His father’s voice knocked him from his thoughts as he tried to figure out what game Derek was playing at. Stiles was stewing in his mind and Derek was wandering around the room as if he owned the place, as if his heart wasn’t shattered into a million pieces as Stiles still continued picking up the remains of his own. 

“I just want this party to be over,” Stiles admitted, leaning into the way his father squeezed his shoulder comfortingly. “I’m sorry that I--”

“You have nothing to be sorry for. You’re in love with Derek and if I could, I would kill him for making you have the look in your eyes that you have right now,” his father stated, narrowing his eyes over Stiles’ head. Stiles had known that Derek was behind him. He started to avoid looking at Derek’s face in hopes that his pulse would slow down and his stomach would stop leaping in hope whenever their eyes almost met, but that meant knowing where he was at every moment. 

“Derek is not the only one to blame. You taught me how to be a man and I let all your lessons go to waste,” Stiles challenged as he rested his palm over his father’s hand, removing it so he could reach for a glass of champagne on the nearest table. 

“I taught you to follow your heart and you did that. I’m proud of you, son,” his father stated, leaning to catch Stiles’ gaze so his son could see just how true the words were. Stiles held up the flute to his lips and nodded just as his father was pulled away by someone else. 

I can’t even drink champagne without seeing your face. 

Stiles gazed into the slim glass, attempting to lose himself in the way the liquid bubbled and fizzed, but all he could see was Derek. The reflection of Derek’s smile as he faked a chuckle that Stiles could easily discern from his real laugh, the way Derek’s eyes glanced around the room before they settled on him. He had thought Derek wasn’t looking at him, but in actuality, Stiles just hadn’t noticed the way Derek’s eyes bore into the back of his head or the way his gaze seemed pulled by some magnetic force of fate to always land on Stiles when he smiled. 

Stiles could work with that. 

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

What a terrible soiree. With terrible people pretending they’re happy in this masquerade. 

There was no way that everyone in that room had been as joyful as their fake smiles and childish giggles had let on. Derek knew for a fact that the town wasn’t as perfect as everyone seemed to pretend it to be and events like the one he was forced to attend just made it that much more real to him. When he finally forced himself to glance over at Stiles, the wide smile on his face made Derek’s heart skip a beat. He couldn’t be sure that Stiles was pretending to be happy. He wasn’t positive that he ever made Stiles happier with their ruse and that fact tortured him every day since the last they had spoken. 

The ruse had been Derek’s idea, that much was true, but he never expected it to go out of his control. He saw Stiles, eager to please and find a mate to make his father proud, and thought it would be a flawless idea. He could make nerdy, talkative, overly enthusiastic, and quite spastic Stiles look like the perfect catch and keep his uncle off his back by obtaining the perfect mate to restore the family name. It made perfect sense, at the time. 

He never expected Stiles to be his perfect mate. Stiles made his heart burst in a way no one had before, made him feel secure and worth something when all he had ever felt was rejection and unease. Stiles would smile at him and tease him and talk circles around him and Derek made the choice to continue their ruse no matter how much his mind cautioned him against it. 

We go through the motions when all that we wish is escape, from the choices we make. 

There Stiles was, catching the eye of every eligible person in the room, and all Derek wanted to do was run. He had Stiles in his grasp and he let him escape. He got to know Stiles deeper than he had bothered to with anyone before and let Stiles in further than he had expected. He gave Stiles the chance to escape and he stayed. He gave Stiles the chance to run away and he just danced closer as if the thought had never occurred to him. What was Derek to do other than push him away? 

They were too close, too far removed from their initial ruse to think clearly and Derek did what any reasonable person would have done. He picked at Stiles’ insecurities and made his own blatantly clear in order to push Stiles to rush away. Yet he still stayed and Derek had to remind him that what they had was a game. It was a game they had both played to the finish. He wasn’t going to allow himself to hurt or be hurt by Stiles and it left him broken inside. 

And I see him smiling. How can he be smiling? There’s been no reconciling. And when he’s in my focus, he won’t even notice my gaze. 

To see him smiling was too much for Derek even after a few short minutes. He took his time wandering around the broad expanse of the decorative room, trying to ignore the way his eyes seemed to gravitate toward Stiles with every move he made. He shook his head to rid himself of the thought of Stiles, but he couldn’t shake off the way Stiles’ smile seemed just as bright as it always had. 

Derek didn’t want him to be upset or sad, but maybe just a little bit as broken as Derek had felt the last few days. Was it so easy for Stiles to toss aside what had started as a ruse but turned into so much more? Derek had thought he had done the right thing in ending their game before it could get too out of hand, but there was a part of him that had thought Stiles was just as far gone as him. 

Derek thought that tossing the ruse aside would mean that their real feelings could be expressed, but his plan had backfired the minute he let Stiles out of his grasp. How could he have been so stupid to pretend that someone like Stiles wouldn’t move on easily and ignore the emotions that Derek thought were so evident on his face? 

Without even trying, his gaze settled on Stiles once again. His stunning face reflected off of the bubbles fizzing in the champagne flute he held up to his lips, slowly draining the liquid down his throat. Even a reflection of Stiles was enough to have Derek’s heart racing and his hand fisting as he resisted the urge to reach out and pull Stiles close to him again. 

How can he be okay? When I can’t even drink champagne without seeing your face. 

Derek downed his glass of champagne just in time for an arm to slide through him and he jumped at the touch. 

“Care for a dance, Derek?” At the casual use of his name, he glanced over at the figure pulling him toward the dance floor and was happy to see his sister on his arm. “You look like you’re about to drink the entire bar or go punch someone in the face,” Laura noted, patting Derek gently on the cheek with her perfectly manicured hand. 

“I guess either of those are possible at the moment,” Derek muttered, swirling his sister around if only to avoid seeing Stiles wrapped around another man. The music was slow and swelling and Derek’s heart beat to bursting at the fact Stiles wasn’t the one in his arms. 

“Why don’t you just ask him to dance, Derek?” Laura asked innocently, taking control of the dance so she could twirl them around and Derek could face Stiles. He closed his eyes but he couldn’t dodge the sight of the hand resting on the small of Stiles’ back or the way Stiles’ feet moved perfectly with the beat. Derek loved dancing with Stiles which said a lot because Derek was never one to dance. 

“I can’t do that, Laura,” Derek argued because he truly couldn’t. At the beginning of he and Stiles’ agreement, they said that when it was over, it was over. Stiles was dancing happily with a potential suitor and Derek was being held up from rock bottom by his sister. It wasn’t where he had expected to be that night, but it was where he would end up. 

Am I the one to blame when we’re dancing in the same room, but you’re an ocean away?

But apparently, Laura didn’t like that answer. At the change of tempo, Laura pushed him in Stiles’ direction and grabbed the person that was wrapped around Stiles. As Stiles started to fall, Derek was there to catch him. He pulled Stiles upright and Laura booted them into position as they continued their dance. Stiles looked everywhere but Derek’s eyes and Derek had to ignore the way his stomach trembled or embarrass himself more horribly than he already had. 

“I didn’t ask her to do that,” Derek explained. His hand hovered over Stiles’ back, unsure if he could touch Stiles again without repercussions, but Stiles’ hand fitted into his more securely and he figured they could at least get through the dance. 

“Of course not. It would be such a hardship to dance with someone you could care less about,” Stiles retorted, still avoiding Derek’s gaze. 

“You know how much I hate danc--” Derek froze, tripping over his feet at what Stiles had practically spat. “You think I don’t care about you?” Derek asked incredulously. His eyes widened as Stiles glanced up at him with a glare which told Derek that was exactly what Stiles was thinking. 

“You ended our rela-- our ruse and have spent the entire evening joyfully to yourself and actively avoiding me. It’s pretty damn obvious,” Stiles scoffed, rolling his eyes and staring up at the ceiling as Derek had seen him do many times that night. 

“I’m avoiding you because you obviously don’t feel the same about me as I do you,” Derek argued, pulling Stiles closer as the tempo of the music sped up. They twirled around the dance floor, too focused on each other to realize that everyone in the room had formed a circle around them. 

“What are you talking about?” Stiles whispered as he tightened his grip on Derek’s shoulder. His nails dug into Derek’s skin but he couldn’t bring himself to care with Stiles so close again. 

“I ended the ruse because I fell in love with you,” Derek blurted before he could change his mind. He had danced around his feelings for too many days to not be honest with Stiles then, when he might not have another chance. 

“You told me that we couldn’t be together anymore and I thought--” 

“You thought wrong, Stiles. I told you the ruse had to end because we didn’t need it anymore. I thought I was clear when I said that I cared for you,” Derek choked out as Stiles’ hand moved to his face, holding his cheek so gently Derek had to hold his breath to stay focused on the task at hand. 

“You weren’t. You never are, Derek, but it’s one of the things I love about you,” Stiles whispered, leaning forward to rest their foreheads together as the music faded into a soft, dull beat. They stood still, staring into each other’s eyes as if waiting for the other to make the final move. 

“Our ruse may have ended, but I don’t want to pretend I’m not in love with you anymore,” Derek admitted, shaking his head before relenting to what his heart wanted and finally pressing his lips to Stiles’. He felt Stiles’ sharp intake of breath and was almost scared he had done something wrong once more, but Stiles’ fingers threaded through his hair and they kissed as passionately as they always had.

When Derek finally convinced himself to pull back, his lips tasted of champagne and Stiles no longer felt so far away. The crowd applauded around them and he finally felt as though fate had gotten her way. And so had he. 

[christinesficrecs]

Hi!! I might actually have already sent something similar, but I’m not really sure?? I’m sending it again lol just in case I didn’t Do you know any fics where Stiles like never sleeps and the pack notices?

Maybe one of these sleep-deprived stiles fics. You can also try this tag. 

Sleepy Cuddles (are Good for the Soul) by artenon | 5.1K

Stiles jerks awake, his cheek smeared with his own drool—gross, but at least he was drooling on his jacket sleeve and not his keyboard, which his arm had been pressed against, and the Word document he has open has an impressive several new pages composed entirely of a string of lowercase “h”s.

Sense of Home by siny | 53K | Explicit

Home can be a place, but it can also be a person.

After the events with the Nemeton, Stiles starts suffering the consequences of their sacrifice. A journey he attempts to make on his own, but only becomes worse with every step he takes. In the process he seeks comfort in an unexpected place and it draws him toward an unexpected person.

(they say) this should feel something like fire by pr1nc3ssp34ch (martyrsdaughter) | 11.1K | Explicit

Drip. Drop. Drip. Drop. Drip.

"Turn it off." The pack looked up, stunned into silence by the first words they'd heard from him in weeks.

Stiles stood, trembling - his knees weak. He tried to run and collapsed, his bad leg failing him once again. Derek caught him. "Turn it off," he said, his voice unmistakably a growl.

The water continued leaking from the loose faucet, and all Stiles heard was Erica's blood against the concrete. Drip. Drop. Drip. Drop. Drip. Drop. Drip.

Inertia by apocryphal | 21.6K | Mature

The last thing Derek and Cora are expecting to find outside their motel room is a gaunt Stiles Stilinski, lacrosse bag on one shoulder and the weight of the world on the other.

A Delirious Proposal by Rubyredhoodling | 8.5K

Stiles looks like hell. The puffiness of sleep deprivation and the slimness around his cheekbones only add to the stern line of his lips.

“What’s wrong?”

Stiles’ jaw clenches as he sets the bags from Rita’s on the counter. “I need you to marry me.”

“What?” Derek wheezes.

In Case The Daylight Never Comes by plume_bob | 82.2K | Explicit

There's a relentless dark shape tearing through the pack and that's only the half of it. Stiles just wants to sleep and stop being haunted by the faces of his night-time tormentors. His dad thinks he's suffering from post-traumatic stress, Scott thinks he's suffering the after-effects of the ritual; Stiles thinks they're both reasonable theories, except for the part where Derek Hale is the only thing that can take his nightmares away and it seems that fact is no coincidence.

I won't sleep if you won't sleep by dragon_temeraire | 4K

After the nogitsune, Stiles is unable to sleep. To help, he has a spell cast on him that will link him with Derek.

To Sleep, Perchance To Dream by eeyore9990 | 2.1K

Stiles hasn’t slept in… a long time.  A long, long time.  He can’t actually remember the last time he slept peacefully through the entire night.  These days, if he sleeps long enough to wake up screaming and crying, tormented by the memories left to him by the nogitsune, he almost counts that as a win.

between the click of the light and the start of the dream by thepsychicclam | 105.1K | Explicit

It's Stiles' senior year, and he's trying to concentrate on normal things - like the lacrosse championship, spring break, prom, graduation (and definitely not Derek) - when he starts having nightmares and waking up in the middle of nowhere. Oh yeah, and he's being haunted by a hag. Great.

[princeescaluswords]

Fandom trashes Scott for "not trusting" Derek, who has betrayed him in canon. Scott is blamed for the pack not functioning a certain way, he's deemed stubborn and arrogant. When in canon, he told Derek that nobody trusts anybody and they need to work together to stop the Kanima and Gerard.

You know how many times Scott’s trust in Deaton is referred to in the fandom as blind or Deaton is referred to as having Scott ‘under his thumb?’  You know how many times Scott’s suspicion of Derek (and even Peter) is portrayed as stubbornness and egocentrism?   Why is that?   You know why and so does everyone else, but let’s look at what happened.

Derek Hale’s actions toward Scott McCall in Season 1.

must have noticed that Scott was Bit when they met in the woods the day after it happened.  Derek didn’t say anything even though he knew that Scott could hurt someone.

somehow figured out that Scott was going to a party on the full moon.  Instead of intervening, Derek must have followed him there in order to find out who bit him.

takes his date (Allison) home from the party by introducing himself as Scott’s friend and steals her jacket. 

lures Scott out into the woods, throws him into a tree, gets him shot, and tries to convince him that they’re now brothers.  This is the first goddamn episode.

broke into Scott’s house, threw him up against the wall, and threatened to kill him if he didn’t obey.  Like Brothers!

chose to allow Scott to believe that he Bit him until Scott threatened to go to the police, and only then revealed the existence of an alpha.  This is at the end of the third episode.

seemingly unable to use a phone and unable to find Scott’s house unless he wants to threaten him, he shows up at the high school and can’t stop changing apparently because he will die without Scott’s help and then yells at him constantly.

attacks, kidnaps, and attempts to kill his boss on the strength of a hunch and a flyer.

promises that if he helps Scott find the alpha, he’ll help him kill the alpha at the end of the eighth episode.  Scott risks his life in a high-speed chase and risks his future relationship with Allison to help Derek find out who the alpha is.

betrays Scott to the alpha at the beginning of the tenth episode.

tries to murder one of his teammates on the lacrosse team.

even after Scott saves his life, goes back on his word in allowing Scott to try for the cure, seizing the alpha power for himself

Impressive for twelve episodes, and yet fandom wonders why Scott said in the second-season episode Party Guessed (2x09):

Derek: “Why do you always think I’m keeping something from you?”

Scott: “Because you always are keeping something from me!”

I mean, what’s the saying here?  Once is an incident; twice is a coincidence, three times is a pattern?  How about half-a-dozen times?  In a month-and-a-half?

Alan Deaton’s actions toward Scott McCall in Season 1.

has worked with him for much longer than he knew Derek.

praises and believes in him.

has a good working relationship with the sheriff, his best friend’s father.

doesn’t call the police when Scott becomes an accomplice in Derek’s kidnapping of him.

calls to check up on him when he misses work.

saves his life when he’s dying from a poisoned bullet in the woods.

protects him from the alpha.  

The overall nature of these actions are somewhat different, aren’t they?  Even if you want to hold it against him that he didn’t reveal the secrets of the Hale family to Scott - though why would he? - or immediately started teaching him about being a werewolf, he demonstrated a care for Scott and a concern for his future and well-being to which Derek doesn’t even come close.

Why would any rational person expect Scott to trust Derek and not Deaton?  Though I will point out that he never trusted Deaton over Derek -- Deaton never told Scott not to listen to Derek and never contradicted anything Derek said to Scott.  So there wasn’t a conflict between them.   So, why is it such a flaw?

You know why, and so do I.  Minority characters are meant to obey.  They’re meant to exist to support white characters completely.  It doesn’t matter that Scott is right not to listen to Derek.  It doesn’t matter that Deaton’s advice is beneficial to the person he gives it to.   It doesn’t matter that Deaton went out of his way to help Derek and Derek’s pack, even after Derek beat, kidnapped, and nearly killed him in Season 1.  

Instead, the fandom will create reasons to distrust the black character.  They will argue that Deaton, as Talia’s emissary, had been inherited by Peter and Derek, like he’s a piece of property.  They will argue that pack is like a family, even the Emissary, and then claim that the loss of Derek’s family justifies Derek’s (and even Peter’s) harsh actions but forget that Deaton was part of the pack as well. 

Why does the tragedy of the Hale Fire get to justify Derek’s refusal to trust anyone and Peter’s murderous anger, but it doesn’t justify Deaton’s reluctance to get involved in the supernatural world again?  You know why, and so do I. 

Only white characters get to react to trauma.  Only white characters get understanding.  Only white characters get to receive justice.   It’s why Derek’s or Peter’s or Stiles’s bad behavior toward Scott must be looked at through a lens of understanding but Scott’s behavior toward Derek or Peter or Stiles must be seen as  the sign of tyranny and self-righteousness.

The most popular story with Scott McCall in it today (and no Bad Alpha Scott or Bad Friend Scott tags to be seen anywhere!) repeats this.  Stiles has made friends with Magnus Bane and Alec Lightwood, and the implication is that Magnus is going to scold Scott for being stuck on himself and they will probably kill Deaton.   What’s Deaton’s crimes?  

“And Stiles would have done the same with magic. If only he hadn’t had to rely on the mere scraps of magical knowledge Deaton ever deigned to show him.  He pauses, a scowl overtaking his face. Because, yeah, that’s likely the reason for the secrecy right there. God forbid Stiles ever actually learn enough to keep up with Deaton, much less to outpace the druid.”

Deaton is holding the white man down!  And, he has the temerity to have a moral code and not serve Stiles as his magical tutor the way Stiles wants him to.

“Stiles’ scowl is dark and immediate at that thought. Because, yeah. Deaton. For all his ‘no interference with the balance’ bullshit, the druid has rather clearly been aiming for Scott to be ruling over Beacon Hills in all his spectacularly blind ‘True Alpha’-ness from the very beginning. Of course, while Scotty is also firmly under Deaton’s own thumb.“

That’s it.  That’s the only two explanations of why Stiles doesn’t like Deaton and why Magnus Bane, like a good little character of color, will kill Deaton and punish Scott on Stiles’s say-so.

So you don’t don’t have to worry about the Sinister Black Man, the white genius and his friends will kill him and put the Arrogant Latino in his place.  Why?  Because the author demands that Peter trying to kill Scott in Mexico and his first-season serial-killing spree to something that requires context and understanding, but reduces Scott putting Peter in Eichen House to the idea that he didn’t like him.  Because, how dare he?  How dare a Latino hold a white man accountable for his actions?

It never occurs to these people that putting Peter in Eichen House was his third chance, even if somehow Scott could have Peter committed.  He could have had Severo Calavera chainsaw him in half. 

I talk about it because this story has 1600 kudos.  People love this story and not a single comment points out -- hey, maybe you might want to note that Magnus Bane and Alec Lightwood might not listen to a serial killer and a teenage boy before deciding to execute someone who actually hasn’t done anything wrong?  

BUT THE TEEN WOLF FANDOM DOESN’T HAVE A RACISM PROBLEM.

[when-they-write-stuff]

I'm really curious about 39. “I want to marry you.” but like asked in a serious way. So glad you're back, take care 🤗

The first time Derek came swinging through Stiles’s window without permission, Stiles freaked out so hard, he ended up launching his can of coke at Derek’s face. 

The man had fallen off the roof in his own surprise. He hadn’t seemed very happy about that.

But when Stiles had started to realize that hey, maybe Derek Hale wasn’t such a giant creeper, he still didn’t expect the late-night visits, okay? Even Scott didn’t do nearly as much stalking. Well, not over him. Maybe over Allison. But he only went creepy werewolf on Stiles occasionally, which he really appreciated.

Derek seemed to be a different story.

The first time he came swinging through Stiles’s window without permission, Stiles threw a can of coke at his face, Derek fell off the roof with a barked curse, and then he hadn’t come back to the house for an entire month.

That had been fine by Stiles at the time. And Derek knocked more often than not now.

Sometimes, he came to talk about the Monster of the Week. Sometimes, he came to chew Stiles out for putting himself in danger when they were facing the Monster of the Week. Sometimes, he just came to sit broodingly in the corner and that was something Stiles still had yet to understand.

Sometimes, Derek came with food.

Stiles may or may not have made that a mandatory rule when the man came anytime before eight in the morning or after eleven at night.

“Oh my god,” Stiles said, taking the offered bag Derek had brought that night. The moment he opened it, the best smell in the world came wafting out and Stiles moaned. “Curly fries. Oh my god, Sourwolf, I want to marry you.”

In a split second, Derek’s face had gone from neutrally blank to bright red. Except Stiles was much too busy digging the container of fries out to really notice.

He might have been a little intrigued if he had.

“So,” Stiles said, stuffing a few into his mouth and glancing back up. “What is it tonight? Hunters? Witches? I know for a fact I haven’t done anything wrong lately, so if you’re here to go all bossy Alpha on me—”

“It’s nothing like that,” Derek said. Stiles narrowed his eyes, still chewing.

“Uh, okay?”

“I was in the area,” Derek said, suddenly focusing on the floor. Stiles swallowed and continued to study the man, a little more carefully this time. Because he was pretty sure something was off.

“So you got me fries?”

Derek froze. He stared at the floor as if it was the most interesting thing in the world before turning around. Stiles stared in confusion as Derek pulled himself right back out the window; without another word or hint. Without literally anything. In a second, Stiles was left alone in his room with a bag of curly fries and he had no idea what had just happened.

But Derek was gone and Stiles was alone.

He was so confused.

-

There was this one time Stiles had been awake for so long, he’d started to think he was living in a TV show and he was pretty sure their entire group was basically the Scooby-Doo gang brought to life with a lot more tragedy.

If Derek’s plans never worked out, did that make him Fred? He thought the man might kill him if Stiles even dared call him Scooby.

But that wasn’t the point. The point was, they had been chasing a witch around Beacon Hills for two weeks now and Stiles hadn’t slept in three days. Every time he thought they were getting close, it was another dead end. And Stiles was about to tear his hair out.

He was half-asleep at the loft when Derek came looming over the couch. Stiles nearly startled out of his own skin, sure he was seeing things for a moment. But that was definitely the growly-brows that he knew so well.

He closed his laptop and smiled tiredly at the man. Derek frowned harder.

“You smell tired.”

Stiles rolled his eyes. “Oh, thank god, I thought you were going to say I smell- smell for a second there. Which might be fair, because I might have forgotten to shower this… week? But it’d still be rude and I might’ve had to punch you.”

From across the room, Erica snorted into her cereal. Derek shot her a red-eyed glare before fixing Stiles with a dark look again. “You need to get some sleep.”

“Yeah, no kidding. And once the witch is caught, dude, I will sleep for at least a straight day.”

“No,” Derek growled. Stiles blinked.

“Uh, no?”

“No. You need to sleep now.”

Stiles stared at him for a long moment. Then he shook his head and opened his laptop again, only to squawk in protest as Derek grabbed it off his lap, closing it again and setting it on the coffee table. The moment Stiles tried to reach for it, the man gave him a threatening look.

Stiles carefully drew his hands back.

“Okay, Sourwolf, use your words. What’s happening here?”

“You haven’t slept in days,” Derek said gruffly. “Now you need to either go home and get some sleep or sleep here, I don’t care. But you need rest. You’re not going to do the pack any good if you’re sleep-deprived.”

“Oh, I’m so glad to see this is for the betterment of the pack, then.”

Derek narrowed his eyes. Stiles sighed, flopping back onto the couch. He would never admit out loud that even doing that was like a weight had been taken off his shoulders. But maybe he could do with a little power nap.

Derek was still looming over him like a giant fluffy thundercloud. Stiles raised an eyebrow, gesturing down at himself.

“Dude, see? I’m resting. You can stop being all grumpy Alpha now.”

Derek looked at him for a long moment. Then he turned away, disappearing down the hall, and Stiles watched him until he was out of sight. Then he sighed, turning his gaze up toward the ceiling.

But Derek came back after only a few seconds with a blanket and pillow. Stiles sat straight back up.

“Dude, what are those?”

“I don’t know, Stiles. What do they look like to you?”

“You’re using sarcasm. I’m confused.”

Derek gave him a look that screaming nothing other than; ‘Of course, you are’ and Stiles frowned at that. But then the man was tucking the pillow at the end of the couch and draping the blanket over him, and Stiles felt a bit like a child being tucked into bed.

“You know, Sourwolf,” he said, laying back down. “We have to be married for you to be so marital about this. I’m just saying.”

Derek froze, standing over him. The man’s jaw ticked and Stiles was sure he was going to get his throat ripped out for a second. But then Derek just turned away, shooting Erica another red-eyed look as she continued to laugh, and Stiles was left alone.

He blinked at the ceiling again, head spinning.

Because he was pretty sure he still had no idea what had just happened.

-

Movie nights had quickly become a pack favorite and that had thrown Stiles through a loop at first. Because he was pretty sure the pack would have a ‘to the death’ tournament before ever agreeing mutually on a movie. But then they figured out a pretty fair system which was really just Lydia tending to make the final decisions, and everyone was really just too scared to risk disputing her.

Even Derek never said a word.

That might’ve been why they watched romcoms and Hallmark movies more often than anything else, but Stiles didn’t really hate it. Pack nights meant spending his Friday nights with the pack instead of alone at home while his dad worked. They meant pizza, popcorn, and the occasional accompanying board game that almost always ended in declarations of revenge.

They were nice. Or something.

Because Derek was the one with the secret fortune, he always ended up buying the pack an entire stack of pizzas. Stiles had felt a little bad at first but then Derek got this glow when he ordered and passed out his pack’s favorite pizzas, and Stiles hadn’t said a word after that.

They’d already picked out some rom-com movie by the time Derek showed up with the pizzas and the pack was instantly crowding around him, each searching for their own. Stiles stayed lounging on the couch, fast-forwarding through the commercials, when Derek came over and set a box in his lap. Blinking, Stiles glanced up.

“Usually, I share with Scott.”

Derek’s ears turned red and he didn’t say a word, dropping onto the couch at Stiles’s side and facing the TV. Stiles continued to eye him, waiting for the other shoe to drop, but it never did. Carefully, as if it was going to grow arms, legs, and maybe attempt to eat him, Stiles lifted up the top.

It didn’t attempt to attack or eat him. He blinked at the pizza for a moment and then stared at Derek again.

“This is black olive and pepperoni.”

Derek gave him a flat look. Stiles narrowed his eyes.

“I never get black olives.”

“But you like them.”

“Yeah, but Scott doesn’t.”

“So?”

“Usually, I share with Scott.”

Derek rolled his eyes and faced the TV again. Stiles was half-aware of the pack watching them from their own spots and pizzas, but he proceeded to act like the rest of the loft was empty. Derek was very determinedly avoiding his gaze now and Stiles was ninety-percent sure that no one actually knew about his secret favorite pizza. Other than his dad, maybe. But Scott hated black olives so in return, Stiles never even bothered with that order.

Lydia muttered something about tension from the side and then the movie was officially starting. Slowly, Stiles tore his gaze away and faced the TV.

Derek moved closer and for a second, Stiles’s breaths caught. But then the man just took a slice of his pizza and Stiles stared at him incredulously.

“Derek.”

“What?”

“I’m so confused right now.”

Derek looked defensive. “Maybe you don’t always have to share a pizza with Scott.”

Stiles glanced across the coffee table, but Scott was wrapped around Allison and didn’t appear to have heard a word they said. When he looked back at Derek, he could’ve sworn the man looked a little smug, grunting and pulling the pizza closer to himself.

“Whatever. Don’t eat all my pizza.”

“I did buy it.”

“Oh, I see. So the Sourwolf is a fan of black olives too, huh?”

Derek shrugged and took another slice. Stiles made a few noises of protest which earned him shushing from all around the room. He gave the rest of the pack a stink eye and then turned it to Derek. 

“You’re eating all of my pizza.”

“I’ll buy you another.”

“Soon? Tonight? Is this a marriage proposal, Sourwolf?”

“You’re an idiot, Stiles.”

But Stiles just eyed the man and his red face and wondered if he really was. He stared until it had probably been too long and Derek gave him another flat, slightly murderous look, and then tore his gaze away. But he wasn’t even paying attention to the movie now.

And he didn’t for the rest of the night.

Not with Derek sitting right up next to him, so close that Stiles could probably fall asleep on his shoulder if he wanted to. Not that he ever would. He appreciated having a throat. But he was also pretty sure there was plenty of space further down the couch.

Not that Stiles was complaining. Not at all.

He was just… intrigued.

-

Stiles sat in the middle of his bed with a blanket wrapped around his shoulders and tried to pretend the man sitting a few feet away wasn’t Derek Hale.

It was nearing midnight and Stiles had attempted to kick Derek out, he really had! But then the man had grunted something about needing help with the wendigo that they were tracking and Stiles found himself unable to dispute that. Which might have been why he was sitting in his pjs while Derek Hale poured over the research he’d attempted; two empty fast food bags abandoned a little ways over and Stiles’s open laptop playing the first Avengers as he claimed a need for the second distraction.

This was probably a dumb idea. Because his dad was home, Derek had never come over when his dad was home, and every time Stiles heard a noise outside his bedroom door or downstairs, he had to smother the fight or flight urge.

It wasn’t like his dad didn’t know Derek swung by sometimes, but… Stiles didn’t often divulge the consistency of Derek’s nightly visits. He was terrified his dad might have words to say about that if he did.

“Hey, dude,” Stiles said, glancing back over. “Remember that one time you used to be afraid of my father? Yeah, I do too. When did that change?”

“We’re not doing anything wrong.”

“Oh wow, no. Not at all. Other than werewolf stuff at midnight in the middle of a school week.”

Derek blinked, glancing up from the bestiary. He actually looked confused and Stiles wondered for the first time if Derek even realized the hours that had passed since he’d shown up. Through the window of course, because Derek might claim to not be scared of his dad, but he never actually used the front door, did he?

Stiles wondered if that was a werewolf thing. But no… that was vampires, right? The whole, invite-only shebang.

Derek glanced at the laptop screen and winced. Stiles barked a laugh.

“Oh my god, Sourwolf, you totally lost track of time. What, does being around this amazing token human make the hours blur by? I always knew you liked me.”

“Shut up, Stiles.”

“The classic response. I think that means I’m starting to get through to you. Or underneath your skin. Or something.”

“Like a parasite.”

“Hey, rude!”

Derek just smirked at him. Literally smirked. Stiles didn’t really know what to do with the way his heart fluttered at that and he very pointedly fixed his gaze back on the laptop screen. Derek shuffled around a little bit more, gathering up the papers, and Stiles blinked at him.

“Uh, what are you doing?”

“... Leaving.”

“Okay, dude. Why?”

“It’s past midnight and your father is home.”

“Oh my god,” Stiles said, rolling his eyes. “Look, he already knows you show up and random times like a total creeper. Heck, from the things he asks me sometimes, I’d be worried he thinks we’re married or something. If you hear him come upstairs, just duck under the bed or something.”

Derek’s expression was flat but his ears were burning bright red. “Stiles, I’m not hiding underneath your bed from your father.”

“I mean… there’s always the closet, but—”

“Good night, Stiles.”

Stiles clamped his mouth shut and watched the man set the stack of papers and books on his desk. He offered his best glare when Derek glanced back, but the man didn’t seem to care. In a couple of seconds, Stiles’s window was being pushed up, the cool night air was breezing in, and then Derek was gone.

Stiles stared at the window for a moment longer, still glaring. That slipped away into a small frown, which slipped away into nothing. Sighing, Stiles shut his laptop and pulled himself up.

It was then that he realized Derek had forgotten his jacket on the back of Stiles’s desk.

For some reason, that made him smile.

-

The intruding pack took Stiles because he smelled like Derek. Which meant maybe wearing the man’s leather jacket around all the time and conveniently ‘forgetting’ to bring it back to the loft during pack nights wasn’t the best idea he’d ever had.

But Stiles didn’t always have the best ideas. So whatever.

He may or may not have been conveniently wearing Derek’s jacket when he was taken from the school parking lot and at first, he was pretty sure they thought he was Derek. But then when he severely lacked in blazing red eyes and fangs, Stiles was hit over the head and stuffed into the trunk; not the best way for them to introduce themselves, if he had a say in it.

He didn’t get a say in it.

By the time the car stopped moving and Stiles was moderately coming back to consciousness, he was hauled out and dumped to the ground with enough force to nearly knock him out again. His ears rang and Stiles groaned, a foot sinking into his stomach the moment he tried to make a sound.

“Can it, kid.”

Stiles clenched his jaw, eyes squeezed shut in pain. The ground beneath him was cool; probably cement. The sound of footsteps around him echoed through the air and Stiles had put two and two together before he was opening his eyes again.

What was it with the Beacon Hills big-bads always living in abandoned warehouses? Stiles would just like to ask.

The pack wasn’t very big when Stiles glanced around. A handful of blue-eyed betas gave him guarded looks as the man that Stiles could only assume was the Alpha stepped out of the shadows. He flinched away as the wolf approached and promptly scrambled up, only to be kicked back down by a beta behind him again.

Laughter filled the air. Stiles scowled.

“You realize Derek’s going to kick all of your little furry asses, right?”

Laughter turned to growls. The man paused in front of Stiles and offered a sharp-toothed grin. “Derek Hale. The Alpha to a bunch of teenagers.”

“Have you ever pissed off a teenager? Cause it never ends well. Especially if they have furry problems and terrible control.”

“You smell like the Alpha.”

Stiles felt his face turn a little hot. “That’s an innocent mistake.”

The man must have heard his heart skip an audible beat because his expression turned even more amused. Stiles scrambled back as he took a step forward; but a sharp growl at his back had him freezing. Swallowing hard, Stiles turned back forward.

“What do you want with Derek?”

“We wanted to talk.”

“Dude, you nearly ripped my throat out earlier. That’s a crappy start to a conversation.”

The Alpha’s expression was nothing but sinister. Stiles dropped his gaze to the floor before the Alpha moved closer and he was on his guard again. Because he wasn’t Derek. So what the hell did they want with him?

“Clearly, kid, you matter to the Alpha.”

Stiles looked up in surprise, but the man looked completely serious. Despite himself, Stiles rolled his eyes. “Yeah, about as much as a parasite living underneath his skin.”

The man’s eyes narrowed. Stiles snorted.

“It’s an inside joke.”

“I see. If we killed you, how much would it hurt him?”

Stiles’s blood went cold. He froze in his position and tried to ignore the growls that erupted behind him. A shiver crept down his spine and he silently wondered how long he’d have to ramble for in order to keep his throat intact until Scott, Derek, or someone came.

“I’m a thorn in Derek’s side,” Stiles said weakly. “Seriously, dude. He won’t care if you kill me.”

“So you’re useless then.”

Stiles swallowed hard. “Uh, no? I know some really good jokes and have been told that my rambling is the perfect way to pass the time. I mean, if you really want me to shut up then grunt, growling, and the occasional shove into the closest wall is usually Derek’s go-to. Might I recommend that?”

The Alpha stepped closer and Stiles scrambled up. This time, there was no one there to kick him back down and he stumbled in panic across the warehouse as the pack advanced closer. Stiles would really rather not be found by his dad mangled and torn apart, thank you very much. He’d really rather not go that way. 

Stiles had wolfsbane mace in his backpack. But that had been left on the ground when he’d been taken.

“Look, look,” Stiles said, throwing up his hands. “I’m sure we could make an arrangement here! How about you let me go, I’ll give you a thirty-minute head start to run from Beacon Hills, and then never mention to my pack how ugly you all were?”

Eyes lit up the darkness; four pairs of blue and one pair of red. Stiles chuckled weakly.

“Or I could just never mention the ugly part ever again?”

The Alpha’s face shifted and a squeak built up in Stiles’s throat as the man moved forward, fangs and claws gleaming. But before he could have his throat ripped out, there was an echoing roar that filled the air, followed by a series of howls.

Sometimes, Stiles hated the pack’s timing. Sometimes, he was just relieved they actually showed up.

The Alpha whirled around and howled back. Stiles stood stock-still as he spotted Derek coming out of the darkness and the man’s eyes snapped to him first, face fully shifted.

“Stiles, get back!”

He really didn’t need to be told twice. Stiles scrambled back as the others moved forward, wishing for nothing more than his mace or baseball bat. He was totally going to start carrying a knife on his person. Goddammit, he was going to start carrying multiple knives on his person.

Stiles didn’t make it far before there was a pain ripping through his shoulder and he was yanked back. He went hard to the floor, vision spotted red with pain, and then he spotted one of the betas from earlier. The one who’d kept kicking him around.

Stiles snarled, trying to pull himself back up. The man’s blue eyes shone in the dim light.

“Don’t mean anything to the Alpha, huh, kid?”

“I really think he just hates doing research,” Stiles said, scrambling back. “I also have a theory he doesn’t know how to properly work a computer. Or you know, I’ve just gotten underneath his skin. Like a parasite.”

“Inside joke?”

Stiles offered his most winning smile. “Inside joke.”

The beta snarled and leaped forward. 

In the past, Stiles had been used as bait, become a popular accidental target, and spent too many of his weekday nights running through the preserve for his life. So he was able to dodge swiping claws fairly easily, pinwheeling around the beta with a yelp. Stiles retreated away and caught sight of his friends beyond the approaching ‘wolf, noticing with a sinking heart that they were all still engaged.

The beta seemed to realize that as well because he approached slowly. Claws out, fangs bared. Stiles moved backward until he was tripping over a bunch of cargo boxes and wood planks, and then he realized he was nearing the wall.

“Guess you don’t mean quite enough, kid.”

Stiles’s breaths lodged in his throat. God, he could not die like this.

He grabbed the nearest wood plank, swinging as the beta leaped forward again. It cracked off the side of his skull and the man roared, stumbling sideways. Stiles attempted to use that chance to make a break for the others, but he really should have known better than attempting to outrun a werewolf.

He was tackled back to the floor in less than five seconds, flipping to his back and kicking wildly out. It was times like this Stiles really wished for a pair of his own claws.

The beta dug claws into his shoulders. Stiles howled in pain.

Then the man was being yanked off.

Stiles caught a blur of movement. There was a thud and a whimper as the beta was shoved into the nearest wall and Stiles thought he caught the metallic scent of blood. Glancing blearily up, Stiles caught a flash of red eyes and Derek’s shaking body as he restrained a set of claws against the man’s neck.

“Your pack turned tail and ran,” Derek snarled. “This is your chance to follow them. But if I ever catch even the slightest whiff of your scent back in Beacon Hills, next time, I’ll rip out your throat. With my teeth. Got it?”

The man nodded. There were hands helping Stiles up as the beta moved around Derek and took off. He was gone from the warehouse in a matter of moments.

Stiles groaned as Erica steadied him by the shoulders a little too roughly, swaying on his feet. Derek’s red eyes flashed as he turned around and she quickly drew back.

“Perfect timing as always Sourwolf,” Stiles said, attempting a small grin. But dammit, he hurt. “Quite nice. Very romantic. I’d totally propose or something right now, but if I get down on one knee I don’t think I’ll be getting back up.”

Derek growled again. Stiles winced.

“Keep the grunts and growls on the down low, dude. I’m fine.”

“You’re hurt.”

“I’m moderately fine.”

Derek’s gaze snapped beyond his shoulder. “Go after the pack and make sure they are out of Beacon Hills tonight. I don’t want them even attempting to stick around. And call Scott. Tell him his best friend was hurt while he was skipping school with Allison and I’d like to have a chat.”

Stiles winced at that. “Oh my god, dude, please don’t do that. No chats needed. I’m moderately fine!”

“You,” Derek said, fixing his red eyes back on where Stiles stood. The shiver he got from that wasn’t fair at all. “Are going to a hospital.”

“Or maybe I could just take a shower and the loft and avoid freaking out my dad?”

There was blood making his shirt— and Derek’s jacket— stick to his skin, Stiles noticed. The leather had actually provided a little more protection against the beta’s claws, though. It was better than being in nothing but a thin t-shirt. Derek stepped forward, searching him up and down, and his face did something funny.

Stiles’s stomach twisted. He dropped his gaze.

“Fine. If you don’t say anything, I’ll go to the hospital. But only because I might need stitches.”

The sound that left Derek’s throat was nothing but feral. Maybe with a little bit of a whine? But Stiles just hunched deeper into the jacket and turned away, not waiting for the man. The other betas were already gone. Stiles had thought Scott might have been with them, but his heart sunk a little when he realized the boy had not been.

Though it's not like he could have known, right? Stiles could have been anywhere. He’d skipped out on classes before.

Usually for pack stuff.

He waited silently by the Camaro parked outside of the warehouse for Derek, still looking anywhere but the man’s face. And the ride to the hospital was a tense one.

Derek never asked for his jacket back. Just checked him in, stayed until Melissa came, muttered something about Scott and the others, and then was gone. Stiles didn’t know how he was supposed to feel about that.

He needed stitches. And when his dad had shown up, he’d seemed too relieved to be furious. 

Stiles supposed it was the little things.

-

He didn’t see Derek for a little while after that.

He didn’t know if it was because Derek was avoiding him or Stiles was avoiding Derek… but he wasn’t outright trying to, okay? He just didn’t go to a few pack meetings and Derek stopped swinging through his window every other night. Stiles stopped wondering if he would. Scott had a come by a few times for a solid two weeks and then he tapered off too.

Stiles threw himself into upcoming finals for his first senior semester. He couldn’t tell if his dad seemed relieved at this or worried at how little Stiles was leaving the house.

The man had even tried to bring it up a few times. Or, more so, he tried to bring up Derek.

Stiles did his best to just wave it all off.

So four weeks passed. To say Stiles was settling into the lull of things would be completely accurate and he was actually starting to remember what it was like to have a regular schedule. Not like he didn’t kind of miss pack movie nights, unexpected Derek Hale visits, or running around Beacon Hills for his life because... maybe he did? Just a little bit. Stiles figured he’d just give it time. So he could look Derek in the eyes without feeling like he was going to drown in embarrassment.

Derek’s jacket hung in his closet. Stiles hadn’t touched it since returning home from the hospital and he was pretty sure it was still covered in blood. Though, dammit, if Derek wanted it back, he could come get the thing himself.

And then Derek did come.

The last thing Stiles had expected was a visitor, so when his window was opened without a warning, his first reaction was to leap out of bed and launch the closest thing nearby at the intruder. Much like the first time.

Except this time, it wasn’t a soda.

There was a loud grunt and a curse as Stiles’s fifth-grade soccer trophy bounced off of Derek’s head. This time, the man didn’t fall off the roof, which Stiles thought was a plus. But he did look downright pissed off.

“Dammit, Stiles!”

“Dammit Stiles? Dammit, Stiles? Dude, what have we established about knocking!”

Derek glared with red eyes, pulling himself all the way into the room. Stiles glared right back, folding his arms over his chest and raising an eyebrow.

“What the hell are you doing here anyway?”

“What does it look like?”

“Uh, I dunno. Crawling into my bedroom like a total creeper after nearly a month of radio silence?”

Derek’s eye twitched. But Stiles didn’t budge.

“I’m fine, if that’s why you came. Or, your jacket’s in the closet. I…” he faltered a little bit, uncrossing his arms and dropping down onto the edge of his best. “I didn’t wash it. But I can do that and bring it by the loft later if that’s what you’d prefer.”

Derek was looking at him like he’d grown horns now. Stiles scowled.

“What?”

“I didn’t come for the jacket.”

Stiles looked at him for a long moment. His scowl slipped. “Oh.”

“I did come to see if you were okay.”

“I’m fine.”

“The stitches are out?”

“One week ago.”

“Oh,” Derek said and this time he was the quiet one. The man nodded, eyes dropping to his feet. “That’s good.”

“Yeah, well, you can go now.”

Grey-green eyes snapped back up. Derek actually looked startled. “You want me to leave?”

“You want to stay?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“Oh geez,” Stiles said, his anger mounting again. “Dude, I don’t know. Maybe because you haven’t come by in ages. You know, after dumping me at the hospital and then making like it was hot. I’m so sorry if I did something to offend you. I’m so sorry if me nearly dying was offensive to you!”

“Do you know why you nearly died, Stiles?”

“Because the token human is always the easiest to take a jab at?”

“No, you idiot. Because you smelled like me!”

Stiles froze, all of his anger dissipating. Derek looked at him with red eyes and if he was honest, Stiles had known that. He’d been an idiot. He’d pranced around in a leather jacket that made him feel all gooey for some reason and in return, the big baddies actually thought he mattered. Actually thought that Stiles Stilinski, token human, mattered.

Mattered to Derek Hale.

“You smelled like me,” Derek said, stepping closer. “And that got you hurt.”

“So what, you take off for a few weeks? What, Derek? What do I smell like now? Do I even smell like pack anymore?”

Derek’s face fell. Stiles felt his stomach twist.

“I don’t, do I?”

“It gets you hurt. I shouldn’t have— started things.”

Stiles stared at him for a long moment. Then he swallowed hard, retreating a step back. “Things? What, like the research projects? The pack nights? Cause that’s not allowed, is it? Derek Hale isn’t allowed to let people think he cares. Well dammit, Sourwolf, you were really good at that. I almost fell for it too.”

Derek’s eyes flashed for a moment. Shaking his head, Stiles turned around and pulled the closet open, pulling out the man’s jacket. It was still a little bloody when he shoved it into Derek’s hands and the man visibly flinched.

“Just… tell Scott the things your pack needs. I don’t have to come over anymore, dude. And you don’t either.”

Derek’s face was tight when he looked at Stiles, expression betraying nothing. The man nodded and started to turn away and Stiles clenched his jaw hard, looking at the floor. Because dammit, he’d messed things up. He’d turned a good thing sour.

He should have returned the stupid jacket right away. He shouldn’t have been so dumb.

Silence fell over the room. When Stiles dared glance back up, Derek was looking at the jacket in his hands. The man’s shoulders were tense and he just stood there. Window open, the cool night air breezing in. His grip was white-knuckled around the jacket.

Stiles clenched his jaw even tighter when the man turned around.

“I do care.”

Stiles’s heart skipped a beat. Derek dropped the jacket to the floor, nudging it away, and then glanced back up. Grey-green eyes searched Stiles’s face.

“I— I do care. And I’d like to care. For a while. But I can’t do that if you get hurt and I can’t do that if you die, Stiles.”

“I’m not going to die.”

The man gave him an exasperated look. Stiles swallowed hard.

“... I don’t plan on dying?”

“But you can’t say that for sure.”

Stiles looked at him for a long moment. Then he stepped forward and brushed the tips of his fingers against Derek’s. The man shuddered, catching his hands, and Stiles offered a small smile. “Okay, so I can’t. But come on, dude, that’s the thing about promises. I promise stupid stuff all the time. Remember that time I vowed I was gonna marry you just because you brought me curly fries?”

Derek’s face turned red. Stiles grinned harder.

“How about you care a little, I care a little, and we trust that’s going to be enough? Because hell, dude, I don’t plan on dying anytime soon. I really don't plan on dying soon. And I mean, am I really much safer tagging at the pack’s heels instead of being a part of it? Instead of being… the Alpha’s?”

Derek’s eyes were red now. And they were locked on Stiles’s face as he shrugged.

“I just require the occasional curly fry delivery every now and then because you were in the area. And you’re not allowed to run after dropping them off.”

Derek didn’t say a word. Stiles raised a brow.

“Sourpuss?”

“You’d be mine,” Derek said. Stiles grinned.

“I mean, I don’t know a ton about marriage, but is that like a proposal? Because I am an eighteen-year-old teenager, Sourwolf, and I still need to finish high school. But yeah, I’d probably be okay with being werewolf married to you one day. Of course, that’s going to require a bit more bribing than some curly fries—”

Stiles cut off mid-sentence. Because suddenly, there were lips on his own, effectively shutting him up, and Stiles’s brain logged off as he realized Derek Hale was kissing him. Derek Hale. Of course, maybe he should have expected if because possible werewolf proposals—

Derek drew back for only a second. “Stop thinking so hard.”

And Stiles just grinned. Because Derek Hale was kissing him, Derek Hale cared, and Stiles was totally going to start making sure he used the front door instead of the window. His dad was going to have to be slowly introduced to this.

Or you know… with time. A little bit more time.

Stiles kissed Derek harder and decided maybe it could take just a little bit more time.

- -

I swear, this was not supposed to nearly be 6k words. But I wanted to make it 5+1 things and then I couldn't decide where I wanted to end it. So here we are! Thank you so much for the prompt nonnie, I had so much fun!

(if you enjoy my writing, consider supporting your student writer? You can also request a prompt if you’d like!). https://ko-fi.com/rh27writer