#deaton x reader

[princesssmars]

practical magick

a stiles stilinski x witch!reader

plot : just when stiles thought he had gotten used to the dramatics of the supernatual, he happens across you performing magic in the forest. when you fail to wipe his memory, his thursday afternoon gets a whole lot weirder.

wc : 4.678

contains : sfw. kissing at the end. the picture for look inspo is fair-skinned but the reader's skin color is not described! reader has hair! google translated latin sorry 😞i like my men loserish and obsessed sorry.

a/n : yasss a little halloween special. rewatching teen wolf for the third time bc idfk. is it obvious i love witch!reader's yet.

for the first time in over a decade, stiles stilinksi was bored out of his mind.

he had previously thought that given his adhd gave him a deep desire to be doing literally anything all the time that the word bored wouldn't enter his daily vocabulary until he died.

yet here he is, kicking his feet at the dead leaves on the ground as he searched for any hidden traces of wolfsbane. the only reasons this had even happened was because he had opened his big mouth too many times and was sent on a busy quest by deaton, to "make sure the surrounding areas were safe for werewolves."

just reminding himself of what led him here was enough to tick him off again. it wasn't like the past two years have been easy, being under the constant threat of werewolves, werewolf hunters, kanimas, etcetera etcetera. it was enough to stress out the most stable of adults, and stiles was the direct opposite of that, so of course he got nervous and started talking over people and pissing them off.

"stupid wolfsbane, stupid werewolves," he mumbles, kicking at more of the dead brown leaves on the forest floor, tearing a line of the familiar purple plant up from the ground and stuffing it into the brown sack in his other hand. once he was done it was likely it would either be tucked in jars in deaton's stash or burned. he wouldn't mind seeing the latter.

its another twenty moments of grumbling and scavenging before a sound in the distance stops him in his tracks. he stands still, making sure that he barely breathes before he relaxes, figuring his anger and memories are making him paranoid of the woods.

a minute later he wishes his mind was playing tricks on him, because he nears the noise again, but this this its louder.

"its closer," he thinks.

he barely even registers when his legs start running. he may have a bag full of wolfsbane, but there was no guarantee the threat was something the plant could harm. and he didn't feel like tempting fate today.

at this point he's slightly lost his direction, but when he passes the stunted redwood stump he and scott carved their names into during the fifth grade he starts to understand where he is, and as his heart beats in his hears he knows if he turns right here he'll come up onto the old willow tree-

in the span of ten seconds he smacks head on into a hard object, falling on his ass and gasping as the air is knocked from his lungs. he blinks quickly to try to rid of the black spots in his vision, and before he can comprehend it he's making eye contact with you.

he's slightly embarrassed that the first thought that races across his mind is how pretty you are. he knows he should be wary of you, but he can't help it. your hair is a rich (h/c), seeming to almost shine despite the sun being blocked by clouds. your skin is smooth and your eyes are gorgeous and big and still staring straight at him.

you both rush to stand up. he holds his hands out in a way that you would calm a wild animal, hoping it doesn't piss you off.

you continue to stare at him. which isn't helping calm down his racing pulse.

"uh, alright. look, i'm not gonna hurt you, alright? i'm just...looking for something..."

before he can finish his sentence, you raise your hands to cup the sides of his face. his words die in his mouth and he feels his cheeks warm up to the point he's surprised they haven't burned your palms. you look determined, and for a second he feels like he's gone to heaven

"convertere et perge quid agas. oblivisceris quid hic vidisti."

turn around and continue what you're doing. you will forget what you saw here.

his mouth opens and his brows scrunch in shock. he never thought those latin lessons he took online and with lydia would pay off, but he's really glad he did them now.

he considers doing what you said, just turning around and forgetting all about this encounter. but unfortunately his curiosity is getting the better of him, and if his suspicions are correct he needs to know more about you.

"i'm gonna guess you just tried to put a spell on me, right?"

your eyes widen so largely he's afraid they're going to pop out of your skull.

"i..i don't understand, that should have worked. are you a warlock? druid?"

"no, no. i'm just stiles." he tells. his guess that you were something supernatural is partially confirmed, since you know about druids and the whole tried to put a spell on him thing.

"well, stiles, unless you tell me why my spell didn't work on you i'm most likely going to have to kill you." you deadpan.

he thinks you're kidding so he eta out a strained laugh. you don't even twitch.

he wracks his brain for a good enough excuse that will save his life before his arm moves without command and thrusts the bag in your direction.

"well, i have a uh, a bag full of wolfsbane, if that matters at all. pretty sure it does since…yeah…wolfsbane”

yours eyes dart from him to the bag, most likely not trusting that their isn’t some insta-death powder that will pop out as soon as you open it, so he looses his thumbs grip and steps closer so you can see the purple herbs inside.

“hate to admit it but you’re right,” you sigh, pushing back some hair from your face. his eyes follow the movement before darting back to yours.“ that much wolfsbane would make most supernatural or magical doings wonky.”

"yes, yes! exactly. that makes sense. im sorry about that-"

"why would you even have that much wolfsbane anyway? are you a hunter?"

"what? no, no! im not, i swear to you im not a hunter. i can explain this, really i can." he nearly chokes on his words at the speed he speaks.

you stare at him for a few seconds more before crossing your arms over your chest, hopefully about to let him explain why he has a bag filled to the brim with a dangerous plant on a random afternoon.

when you start to walk directly past him into the forest he doesn’t think he’s ever been more confused.

"fine. you can explain it on the way back.”

he’s as still as a statue as he process your words. you just accused him of being a hunter and now you want him to follow you to whatever mysterious place your going? even for him this is weird, and he’s ten seconds from refusing-

“hurry up.”

he rushes to catch up behind you.

after around twenty minutes of stiles repeatedly asking where you were going followed by silence on your end, you finally reach a clearing in the woods filled by a large victorian-era house, fully black with large looming windows lit up by warm golden lighting coming from inside. there's a nearly fully glass sunroom/greenhouse on the right side, and he can see from here the varying flowers and plants that fill the room. he wants to ask how a house like this could be kept under wraps from the rest of the town, but then he remembers.

magic, duh.

you lead him through the threshold of the home and down a hallway until you arrive in what must be your living room, not giving him a chance to admire the room before you're pushing on his shoulders so he sits in a loveseat, taking your own seat across from him. your legs spread and you rest your elbows on your knees as you glare at him, causing him to shift in his seat.

"why are you carrying a bag full of wolfsbane?"

"my friend's boss, deaton. he asked me to pick up any wolfsbane in the woods to make it safer for them when they do the whole wolfing out thing."

"deaton's working with werewolves again? does he have a death wish?" your brow raises in confusion, he notes how the fingers on your right-hand scratch at the skin on your right.

"i'll be honest, you're kind of creeping me out."

"thank you. why is he doing it?"

"my friend, scott. he's a werewolf. and so are our friends erica and boyd. and derek and his weird uncle peter-"

"the fucking hale's are back? are you kidding?" a scoff leaves you and you get up out of your chair, starting to pace back and forth in front of his chair.

"yeah, it was this whole thing with peter being evil and killing his niece, and he turned scott but scott thought it was derek who turned him. it was a whole thing. not to mention how peter came back from the dead-"

you continue to walk around the room while occasionally pausing to pay attention as the boy details the events that have happened in the past year. despite you being a stranger it felt oddly cathartic to vent about everything that had happened to him. admitting to the countless times he felt scared out of his mind but had to stay strong lest his enemies take advantage of it.

"that's a lot for a normal human to go through in just a year with no prior knowledge of the supernatural. i'm surprised your brain didn't implode from the stress."

he blinks. "thanks. i guess."

"you're welcome. i'm going to make some tea. stay here," you say, moving from standing across from him to heading to a room near the side of the room, able to faintly see some dark counters and pots and herbs hanging from the ceiling, "not like you'd be able to leave anyway."

that's reassuring, stiles thinks to himself, bouncing his leg up and down where he sits. after a minute he figures you won’t kill him horrendously if hes looks around a bit, so he gets up and starts observing the countless pictures on the walls. some are old, like the people in them are wearing outfits from a few hundred years ago, while some are colored and recent. in most of the recent ones, you’re with three older women who look just as dark but ethereal as you do.

he continues looking at some pictures and hung-up trinkets when you come back into the room with two cups of tea, handing one with a smile to the wary boy with a halfhearted promise that it’s “totally not poisoned.”

“can i ask you a question?” he asks, sipping at his tea after he discovers it’s not poisoned and actually really good. he was never really fond of tea, always preferring coffee or energy drinks when he was in a low-energy period. he remembers his mom liked chamomile tea.

“you just did. but go ahead.”

“why would you let me in here? you could have just questioned me at the willow tree, you didn’t have to let me into your house. not that i don’t like your house. i like the whole victorian gothic vibe.”

you don’t answer for a solid minute, slowly drinking from your cup as you stare into the lite fireplace.

“witches pride ourselves on our knowledge. to be aware of our abilities and surroundings at all times to best stimulate our growth. and as much as i’d like to be this powerhouse who could take down any threat, i know i’m not. if you actually were powerful and i tried to take you on myself? who knows what would happen.”

“and i’m guessing that magical barrier around the house would protect you in case i really did try anything?” he gently asks, not wanting to talk too loudly to distract you from opening up to him.

“exactly. plus if you tried anything my aunts probably would have put a curse on you and your loved ones. something not too flashy to attract attention, but enough to cause great suffering.” he notices your soft sigh when you stop talking, almost like you’re disappointed you won’t get to see this suffering play out.

“plus it’s better to know where your talents excel,” you continue, setting your cup down on a skull patterned coaster on the coffee table in front of you. “i’ve always been better at using my magic to investigate my surroundings. helps to find materials or signs of psychos roaming around.”

something you two have in common. it makes his mouth quirk up.

“so, the werewolves and all the other things being back in town, that’s a problem for you and your aunts, right?”

“yup. if it was just werewolves it’d be normal for beacon hills, but kanimas and a whole pack of alphas? who knows how much that can disrupt the natural balance and what more they’ll bring.”

he thinks over his next words carefully. scott would likely be upset at first at him for trusting you, but he was also the nicest person stiles had ever met. if you could help them then it was worth the risk.

“then how about a trade. you help us with this alpha problem, and you get the experience you need to become a great and all powerful witch. pretty soon you'll be riding your broom to your heart's content."

you can’t help but scoff a laugh as you think it over. he starts to think you’re about to reject the offer as you stare him down before you get up and offer him a hand.

“you’ve got a deal.”

after shaking on it, you send the boy back with his bag of wolfsbane and a few more helpful weeds from your greenhouse, giving him a note to give to deaton so he won’t ask too many questions.

when he returns to the vets office he dumps the materials on the operating table, ignoring isaacs joke about how if he took any longer they’d all be alpha chow by now. he can tell deaton is concerned about where he got the vials of strange red and yellow herbs, but when he reads the note his eyes widen and he lets out a mix between a laugh and a sigh. scott asked insistently what was on the note but his boss refused to tell him what it said.

before he left to drive home, deaton pulled stiles to a corner and told him that he had been in close contact with one of your aunts before something happened a few years after the hale fire that caused them to go into hiding and cut contact with all supernaturals they had previously been helping, including him as the emissary of the hale family.

as he lay in bed that night staring up at his ceiling, all he could think about was you. you were a welcome distraction from the chaos of his current life, a pretty distraction at that. if not a bit scary. which he didn't mind all that much.

the both of you spent more time together in the following weeks. at first, it was just simple conversations by the willow tree talking about the werewolf situations and checking what materials deaton needed from your family. as time went on his curiosity got the best of him and he started to ask you more questions about your life.

"so hit me if this is stupid but did you have any family in salem? or can you like make a potion ina cauldron to see if I did because I could use that as massive bargaining power in fights with issac-ow! why'd you hit me?"

"you said i could."

"yeah but not so hard. jeez, ever thought of quitting this witch thing and trying boxing."

"never thought of it. maybe i should start now. with your face."

"really funny."

(your threats kind of reminded him of derek, but had less of an 'i'm about to rip your throat out and eat your esophagus vibe.' slightly.)

but as time went on it got deeper. as he told him more about himself you started to do the same, once even apologizing for "giving off psycho killer bitch vibes" and chalking it up to being so isolated from people for most of your life. he told you he didn't mind the vibes, assuring you he liked it maybe a little too excitedly.

he could really feel the shift when one day he came up to the willow tree and he saw you, standing with a frame photo in your hands and nearly on the brink of tears. he was so shocked at seeing you show such intense emotion he wasn't watching where he was going and stepped on a branch, alarming you as your head whipped to him like a deer in headlights.

"i...im sorry. i can leave if you want."

"no no, it's," you shook your head, looking down at the photo once again. "it's fine. it doesn't matter."

"well if it's enough to make you cry id say its world ending-"

"could you just shut up? for once in your life?"

it's quiet for a minute, the only sound in the air being the gentle breeze. even thought the comment stings stiles knows all too well you're just lashing out in anger and hurt.

"im sorry."

"don't apologize. i get it, i do." he moves closer until he's standing beside you, walking slowly so he doesn't make you lash out again.

he looks down at the photo and he gets it. its you, about six or seven with a bright smile on your face and standing with two people he can tell are your parents. he can see the resemblance. you have one of their smiles and hair color, the other's nose, and by their clothes, the same dark style.

"its been over ten years. since i lost them," you whisper, your voice sounding more weak than he's ever heard it. "itd be nice if I was staying with my aunts for some sabrina the teenage witch reason but no. i don't have a choice."

he gently puts a hand on your shoulder. "i get it, i do. i lost my mom. every day i remember things about her in things i do. it hurts but its better than forgetting."

you sniff and hes about to back up when you put your hand over his on your shoulder, gripping it tightly. it hurts a bit. he doesn't really care.

"its not fair."

"its not."

"...thank you."

"don't mention it."

you give him with the materials and he's about to leave when you stop him, your hand grasping his wrist. he wants to ask whats wrong but he stops. you're staring right at him, into his soul he thinks, and all he wants is to hold you and tell you any pain he's suffered the past few years is worth it because it led him to you, that even if you asked him to sacrifice himself on an alter for a spell that would make you happy for a minute he would do it-

"this bracelet. i want you to wear it and don't take it off no matter what, all right?"

hey, that works for him.

as soon as the bracelet was clasped around his wrist he felt different. like his nerves were tingling and his brain was warm. he felt like he was going to get the most powerful migraine in existence and reached to take it off when you took his hand again.

"please. just give it a minute."

and so he did.

only thirty seconds of dull pain later and he felt normal, if not better. like when you're a kid and have the best day of your life and return home to a good meal. a nice bath, and a great night's rest. he feels almost powerful.

"hey what is this thing? did you just give me powers? is this gonna make me your servant or something?"

"bye stiles."

he gives deaton the materials after telling scott where he was ignoring the weird look on his face before the boy goes back to examining an adorable beagle on the operating table.

deaton takes the bag and bottles with an appreciative smile, his eyebrows scrunching up when he notices the jewelry on stiles wrist.

"where'd you get that bracelet?"

"uhh, i found it. at a thrift shop. thought it looked cool. why?"

deaton clearly doesn't believe him but decides to entertain stiles anyway. "the band is a normal bracelet but the charms are what makes it special. they're pagan."

"could you explain them to me? just because you know."

the vet just shakes his head and laughs before pointing to each one.

"this one, the witchs knot. standard symbol for warding off evil. its mostly used as a protection charm."

stiles admires the charm, the metal silver with the symbol burned into it. it looks like a circle with a line roped in and out of four points of it.

"this, hecates wheel. a goddess of magic, as you probably already know. symbolizes the power of knowledge and life."

this charm is a bit heavier, the stone looking weathered with a scratched labyrinth engraved on it, a distinct 'x' in the middle of it.

"and this one is..." deaton starts before his words trail off. stiles looks at it. it looks like four combined circles, each with symbols inside them. the two across from each other on the side looking like two crescent moons, the one on the top holding a basic pentagram. but he doesn't recognize the one on the bottom-two perpendicular lines forming an 'x' with little swirly lines coming from the middle on the top and bottom.

"what? what does it mean? is it bad?"

"no, it's not bad at all, stiles. the crescents and pentagram are used in another basic protection spell. more protection for the user."

"and the one on the bottom?"

"well, i don't honestly know what it is. its most likely a personal sigil made by the person who made it. but by my guess, based on others I've seen before, it might mean whoever made it has a deep love and affection for whoever they gifted the bracelet to."

stiles thought he was keeping his cool, but scott made extra sure to remind him the following days and the dumbass look on his face when deaton explained the symbol to him.

he didnt know what to do. this had to mean you felt the same way he did about you, right? why else would you gift him a love sigil on a bracelet you insisted he wear? for a second he considered it was a love spell you tried to put on him, but he was feeling iffy about that. mostly about how he wouldn't care that much.

(he apparently admitted that in a sleepy haze when he was sleeping over at scotts, and he's never wanted to die more than when he woke up and realized issac of all people heard him.)

the next time he saw you he tried as hard as he could to act casual. you asked him about ten times if he was okay, and he eventually came up with a good enough 'just a slight stomach bug' lie and regretted it immensely when you invited him back to your house, telling him you'd been practicing making simple health remedies and you had the perfect thing to fix him.

the whole walk to your house he was on edge, his palms feeling sweaty for the first time in his life as he repeatedly wiped them off on his pants. just like the first meeting, you tell him to wait on the couch and he lets out a shaky breath when you leave into the kitchen.

what does he do? does he confess? does he need to? he was so scared that he was being too obvious and maybe that's why you put the sigil on the bracelet, to let him know you returned his affections. but what is he wasn't obvious? and he was basically telling you he only liked you because you liked him? what if-

"stop staring into space and drink this tea, dummy."

he laughs awkwardly and takes the ornate cup from your hand, sniffing the tea before he drinks it. it's sweet but savory, smelling like nutmeg and milk. he can see little flakes and leaves floating on the top. he takes a sip and hums at the taste.

"screw boxing, you should be a professional chef. i'm gonna need you to give me this recipe."

"yeah right. a witch never reveals her secrets." you scoff before sitting down next to him on the couch. you put your arm up on the back and rest your head on your wrist as you cross your legs, your foot brushing against his leg. he nearly spills the tea over his lap.

he can't help but admire you. he had given you a few magazines he'd gotten from stores and stuff to better show you how people were dressing these days, and while you'd hated most of it you took to some trends, wearing a pair of black ripped skinny jeans and a pair of combat boots. he tried to focus on the rips in your jeans as to not let his eyes wander up, where you were wearing a leather halter camisole with nothing underneath. he can't help but laugh in his head when he thinks of the word camisole. maybe he was spending too much time around lydia.

"stiles? seriously are you possessed or something? normally you'd be talking my ear off trying to guess exactly what ingredients i used for the tea."

he sets the cup down after taking another long sip and turns his body to you, your eyebrows raising in what he can tell is amusement. most people could easily get annoyed by his theatrics, but after your near trauma bonding at the willow tree, you had always made sure to welcome them with a smile.

"look, i have something to say. which you probably already know, but i need to say it to you anyway to make sure you really know, y'know?"

you blink. "go ahead."

he breathes in and out a few times, his previous confidence suddenly disappearing.

"let me guess, you saw the sigil and now you're going to confess your love to me?"

he goes into a near coughing fit.

"how, well thanks because now i dont have to actually say it, but if you had given me a minute-"

before he knows it you're scooting closer, your faces just a few inches apart. you're staring at him with that same look you had when you gave him the bracelet. his breath is picking up and he bites his bottom lip, your eyes darting to the motion.

"can i kiss you?"

"yes, god yes-"

your hand grips his chin and brings his lips to yours, the intensity and plushness of it nearly driving him insane. he doesn't really know what to do with his hands, settling to just keep them on his lap before your other hand brings them to your waist and squeezes them in place. at this point you're nearly on his lap and that combined with the kiss and the fact he swears he just felt your tongue poke his lip is going to be the death of him.

he pulls away from the kiss and kneads his hands on your hips, able to feel the softness of your skin on the places where the camisole lifts up.

"wow. i mean just...arent you a recluse? where'd you learn to kiss like that? have you like, conjured up clones to practice with or something."

"stiles?"

"yeah?"

"shut up and kiss me again."

"whatever you say, babe."

for the first time in his life, stiles stilinksi thinks everything is gonna work out.

ty for reading! had to tell myself to get up off my ass and write at 3am and wrote about half of this so sorry for any dialogue inconsistencies. love you bye bye.

[33-81]

recently...

[averagewriter-inthedark]

Heart of the Ocean 💙 | Teen Wolf Miniseries Part 2

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

Teen Wolf Masterlist | read part 1 here

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

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

Requested 📨 yes/no (rules for requests)

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

——————————

*tick* *tick* *tick*

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

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

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

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

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

The Heart of the Ocean.

What led them to her.

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

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

“Gifts?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*ring* *ring* *ring*

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Because it’s about Titanic.”

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

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

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

“Y/n—.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Last night.”

“Where.”

“U-uh Derek Hale’s loft.”

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

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

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

Stiles scratches his neck, “R-really?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Kinda like you?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The air thickened in the classroom.

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

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

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

“Forty years ago.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

And with his gift of compelling….

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“She was with him for sixty years—.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What’s it going to do, Y/n?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[s0urw00lf]

two peas in a pack

Stiles Stilinski x reader

Stiles had woken y/n up with multiple back-to-back phone calls. y/n rolled onto her back looking at the ceiling in aggravation. She had been trying to sleep because tomorrow was the first day of school and she didn't want to sleep on the first day. but when the phone kept continuously ringing she groaned and answered the phone with a harsh "what the hell stilinski".

Before she could say anything more stiles interrupted her "listen, i'm outside put on a jacket and come out" stiles said over the phone.

Y/n took the phone away from her ear and stared at the screen incredulously before putting it back "Stiles, you do realize that we have school tomorrow and, i’d have to sneak out without waking deaton right?" she asked rolling her eyes tilting her head to the side.

Stiles from the other side of his phone shook his head before replying "yes y/n i'm very aware of those details but it's not like you haven't snuck out many, many times before" stiles said and from the tone of his voice y/n could tell that he had been waving his hands every which way dramatically.

“Your not gonna leave me alone about this are you?” She asked sighing

“No” he stated firmly

Y/n rolled her eyes as she sat thinking for a second. "Fine but if we get caught I'm blaming it all on you" she said before hanging up and groaning because she had to get out of her comfy warm bed.

She got up and made her way over to her window which was her usual routine when sneaking out. She climbed out of her window and onto the tree branch that held the treehouse Scott, stiles, and y/n used to hang out in before they started high school and climbed down the ladder that had been nailed to the tree and ran over to the blue rundown jeep that she had grown to love over time.

When she reached the jeep she was met with the beaming face of stiles stilinski and she opened the passenger door and climbed in.

Before the spasmodic boy could say anything y/n warned "if you ever wake me up like that again and it's not an emergency I will suffocate you with a pillow in your sleep".

Stiles raised his hands in surrender "plus you haven't told me what I'm even out here for." she said. Stiles eyes widened forgetting about what he had called the girl out of her sleep for.

"I'll tell you on the way to get Scott," he said before pulling off in the direction of Scotts who lived 10 minutes away from y/n.

When they reached Scott's house the two climbed up to the roof above the porch and waited for Scott. "why didn't you just call Scott?" y/n asked only now realizing that they could have just called.

Stiles rolled his eyes dramatically "because he wouldn't answer I was calling you both at the same time only you answered" he said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Y/n went to reply but stopped as she heard Scott opening the front door and stepping onto the porch stepping closer to the railing. Stiles turned to me and gestured to fall forward counting down on his fingers. Y/n complied, smiling as stiles held up his fingers and counted down 3...2...1 they both fell forward yelling, successfully scaring Scott who was holding a bat causing stiles to yell and flair his arms hitting y/n. ‘Ow’ she muttered.

" "STILES, Y/N WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING" Scott yelled still holding up the bat.

"you weren't answering your phone" "and why do you have a bat?" stiles and y/n said looking at scott questioningly

"I thought you guys were predators," Scott said, making y/n snort. "a pre- look, I know it's late but, you gotta hear this," Stiles said with his arms hanging.

"i saw my dad leave twenty minutes ago. Dispatch called, they're bringing in every officer from Beacon department, and even state police" he said before falling down bringing y/n with him and landing on her back groaning.

Stiles quickly recovered hearing Scott ask 'for what’. "two joggers found a body in the woods" he said now helping y/n up, when she was standing she punched him in his chest making him mutter an 'ow' "what- a dead body?" Scott asked in what y/n thought was disbelief or shock, she couldn't tell.

"no, a body of water" she deadpanned “yes dumbass a dead body," stiles said following y/n’s statement as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Stiles jumped over the railing of the porch and y/n squinted thinking 'yeah, I'm not doing that' while walking around and using the steps. She walks up and stands beside stiles as she hears Scott ask "what, like murdered?" Scott asked slightly concerned.

"nobody knows yet, just that it was a girl, probably in her twenties" stiles answered. y/n went into thought for a second "wait, so if they already found the body then what are they looking for?" she asked Scott nodded his head as if he was thinking the same thing.

Stiles turned towards her in excitement "that's the best part, they only found half... were going" he said. With that being said stiles and Scott trailed their way over to stiles jeep. "you failed to mention that detail earlier." y/n mumbled trudging after the two.

When the three teenagers reached the entrance of the woods, they hopped out of the jeep, y/n more reluctant than the others.

Stiles was in the front with Scott and y/n not too far behind him. “Are we really doing this” Scott asked warily following behind stiles who had just stepped over the ‘keep out after dark’ sign hanging by a cabin in between two posts.

Stiles was ahead of the two breathing heavily “you’re the one always bitching that nothing ever happens in this town” he said waving the flashlight around the dark woods.

Y/n walked up beside Scott and said “he’s got you there Scotty” before laughing as he pushed her slightly laughing a little as well. “I was trying to get a good nights sleep before the big game tomorrow” Scott said.

Stiles laughed “right because sitting on the bench is such a grueling effort” he said jokingly. “No, because I’m playing this year. In fact I’m gonna make first line” he said tone laced with confidence. Y/n now in front of Scott, “way to go Scotty” y/n cheered full on supportive. “Hey that’s the spirit, everyone should have a dream. Even a pathetically unrealistic one” stiles said sarcastically. Y/n had caught up to the boy and hit the back of his head muttering a “don’t crush his dreams” jokingly. Stiles just shrugged his shoulders.

The trio walked in silence Y/n mostly because she had just started to digest what they were doing. “Hey, Stiles?” She said. He looked over to her, “just out of curiosity, which half of the body are we looking for?” She asks. Stiles paused a moment before saying “huh, didn’t even think abut that” making y/n cringe. “And what if whoever killed the body is still out here” Scott asked from behind y/n. “Also something I didn’t think about” he said climbing up a hill. “It’s comforting to know you planned this out with your usual attention to detail” y/n said with a groan. “I know” stiles said, making y/n roll her eyes in fear and slight annoyance.

Scotts breathing became heavier causing y/n to look back at him “you okay Scotty?” She asked he nodded taking a pump from his inhaler. “Maybe the severe asthmatic should be the one carrying the flashlight, huh?” He said to stiles… who was carrying the flashlight. Stiles didn’t answer still walking ahead, scot stopped and leaned up against a nearby tree taking another pump. Scott quickly catches up to y/n and stiles who ware laying on the ground, much to y/n’s dismay. Scott falls down on y/n’s right, just the stiles had the bright idea to run towards the police and their dogs, and Scott chased after him yelling a “wait” leaving y/n by herself. She groaned standing up to chase after them but stiles had ran right into his dad so instead she opted to stand hidden behind a tree, not wanting Denton to know she snuck out again.

She listened to stiles and his dad go back and fourth before they left. She groaned now definitely in fear. Y/n decided to walk back the way they came in hopes to find her way out of the woods, seeing as she had lost Scott as well. Y/n walked for a while before she had gotten an uneasy feeling of being watched. Her heart sped up as she looked around the dark forest, “Scott? Is that you” she called out looking around. No answer “Scott come on this isn’t funny” she said growing even more uneasy. she began to walk again with a faster pace just wanting to get out of the woods until she heard a low growl behind her, causing her to freeze dead in her tracks shaking frantically. She slowly turned around just to make eye contact with glowing red eyes. Y/n felt as if her heart dropped out of her body.

She decided to turn around and run, it may not have been the best idea but it was either that or stay planted to the ground like an idiot. She ran as fast as she could but was shoved down hard. She groaned in pain not only from her head but her shoulder too. She looked down at her jacket to see it full of holes, dirty, and bloody. Blood mostly on her shoulder. She didn’t care to look and see what was happening she just ran, as fast and as far as she could until she came to an opening to the main road. She sighed in relief just as she saw Scott come out as well, a few feet away from her.

“Scott?” She said beginning to walk over to him but was stopped when she heard a car behind her making her jump out of the way as the car passed. She let out a deep breath before again making her way to Scott. “You okay? He asked. “No, I think I got bit by a wild dog or something.” She replied taking her jacket off of the wound. Scotts eyes widened “me too!” He said pulling up his shirt to show her his bite. “What do we do? She asked, before she heard a loud howl echo through the night. “I don’t think it was a dog y/n” Scott said. They looked at each other worried beofre scott changed the subject “you should come to my house, my mom has all the things to clean the wound.” He said. Y/n laughed “you do know my dad is a veterinarian right” she asked laughing as they started walking. “Yes but veterinarians work with animals” he said sassily. y/n rolled her eyes but agreed.

The next morning she woke up in Scott’s bed, and scott was in the floor, much to her dismay, he had told her that he wouldn’t let her sleep on the couch 1. Because Melissa would catch her and 2. Because it wasn’t very gentlemanly of him. Y/n woke up before Scott and decided to sneak out of his window and head home, not bothering to tell him. When she reached her house she used the same route to climb back into her room it was about the time she normally waked up for school and so she just got ready like normal, throwing on something cute, and comfy. She went downstairs to pick up her backpack and breakfast that her dad always makes before he heads out for work and left the house, making her way to school.

When she reached the dreadful place she called the school, she looked around for her friends who were standing in the middle of rushing teenagers. She laughed shaking her head and made her way over to them. She heard stiles say loud and clear “yes really, there are no wolves in California,” he said with his usual sarcastic tone. “Dude, y/n saw it,” Scott said as y/n had reached them. stiles turned to y/n who stood behind him smiling with a wave. “Is he- is he serious? You saw it?” He asked very skeptically. “Yes stiles, it was big and scary looking. It had red eyes.” She said. Stiles still looked like he didn’t believe them for a second. Y/n rolled her eyes “All right. Well, if you don't believe me about the wolf, then you're not gonna believe me when I tell you I found the body.”

Stiles eyes widened now accepting the fact they they weren’t lying “You-- are you kidding me?”. Scott laughed “No, man, I wish. I'm gonna have nightmares for a month.” He said. “And you wonder why Melissa wouldn’t let you watch horror films” y/n mused giggling causing stiles to smirk at her. “Oh, god, that is freakin' awesome. I mean, this is seriously gonna be the best thing that's happened to this town since--“ stiles stopped what he was saying now staring right at Lydia martin causing y/n’s heart to crack slightly. -Since the birth of Lydia Martin. Hey, Lydia! You look--“. Lydia walks right past Stiles, completely ignoring the boy who stared love sick at her. Making y/n roll her eyes in anger “--Like you're gonna ignore me...” he said biting his lip turning around to Scott. “You know your the cause of this, dragging me down into your nerd depths” he said walking with Scott and y/n following. “Uh-huh” scot said smiling. “I'm a nerd by association. I've been Scarlet-nerded by you.” He said, making both Scott and y/n laugh as they entered the school building “ I don’t even know why y/n hangs you with us”

Time skip to the day of the party———

Y/n and stiles had been up all night researching the effects the bite had on Scott. The room was mostly quiet aside stiles mumbling until the pair heard a knock on the door. Stiles shot up to answer it, it was Scott “Get in. Scott walks into the bedroom as Stiles closes the door. “You gotta see this thing. We’ve been up all night reading-- websites, books, all this information.” Scott sets his backpack on the floor by Stiles' bed, his eyes widening in amazement when he sees all the paper covering the floor and desk, looking over to y/n who just shrugged. Scott’s brows furrowed “How much Adderall have you had today?” He asked stiles who paused his rushing through papers “A lot.” He replied.

Scott looked over to y/n “and you?” He asked, to which she held up a coffee mug filled with coffee “caffeine” she said with a smile. Scott and stiles shake their heads before stiles changed the subject. “Doesn't matter, okay? Just listen” Scott takes a seat on Stiles' bed by y/n who was lying across the bead trying to keep her leg from shaking from all of the caffeine she had digested. “Oh, is this about the body? Did they find out who did it?” Stiles is momentarily distracted by the change of subject “No, they're still questioning people. Even Derek Hale.” He said resting his arm on the back of his chair.

Scott sat up more interested “Oh, the guy in the woods that we saw the other day?” He asked “Yeah” stiles replied. Just then, is reminded of why he called Scott over “Yes. But that's not it, okay?” Scott frowned in confusion asking “What, then?” Stiles expression got more serious “Remember the joke from the other day?” He asked looking nervous to tell him. “Not a joke anymore. The wolf, the bite in the woods... we started doing all this reading” y/n said. Stiles stood up picking up a piece of paper “Do you even know why a wolf howls?” He asked. Scot stood there still confused “Should I?”. “It's a signal, okay? When a wolf's alone, it howls to signal its location to the rest of the pack. So if you heard a wolf howling, that means others could have been nearby. Maybe even a whole pack of 'em.”

Scott still looking even more skeptical asked “A whole pack of wolves?” Bringing stiles to his main point “No-- Werewolves.”. Scott scoffed standing up irritated thinking that stiles was joking “Are you seriously wasting my time with this? You know I'm picking up Allison in an hour.” Scott picks up his backpack and gets ready to leave, but y/n grabs him by the arm with one hand and presses her other against his chest so that he's forced to stay where he is while they try to convince Scott that they’re telling the truth. “We saw you on the field Scott. What you did wasn't just amazing, all right? It was impossible.” She said to him. Scott tried to shove her off of him wanting to leave. “Yeah, so I made a good shot.”Stiles grabs Scott's backpack and tosses it onto his bed so dig around inside of it for something saying “No, you made an incredible shot! I mean, the way you moved, your speed, your reflexes? Y'know, people can't just suddenly do that overnight. And there's the vision, and the senses, and don't even think I don't notice that you don't need your inhaler anymore.” He said still frantically searching through the bag. “Okay! Dude, I can't think about this now. We'll talk tomorrow.” He said trying to reason. This made stiles movements more frantic.

Y/n shook her head “Tomorrow?! What? No! The full moon's tonight. Don't you get it?” She asked getting upset. “You know id expect this from stiles but you?” He said shaking his head. “That’s why you should know were serious.” She said trying to convince him. This makes Scott upset “What are you trying to do? I-I just made first line. I-I got a date with a girl who I can't believe wants to go out with me, and everything in my life is somehow perfect. Why are you trying to ruin it?”scott accused “we’re trying to help!” Stiles said loudly. He takes a deep breath before lowering his tone “You're cursed, Scott. You know, and it's not just the moon will cause you to physically change. It also just so happens to be when your bloodlust will be at its peak.”

Again Scott looked at the two in confusion “Bloodlust?” He asks. “Yeah, your urge to kill.” Y/n confirmed. “ I'm already starting to feel an urge to kill, Stiles.” Stiles stood frantically searching for something in the book about lycanthropy “You gotta hear this-- "The change can be caused by anger or anything that raises your pulse." All right? I haven't seen anyone raise your pulse like Allison does. You gotta cancel this date” y/n stood to her feet and starts digging through Scott's backpack. “I'm gonna call her right now.”. Scott not on high alert hearing Allison’s name yelps “What are you doing?” Stiles grabs Scott's phone from y/n and starts to pull up Allison's number “I'm canceling the date.” He stated. “No, give it to me!” Scott practically roared grabbing the phone out of Stiles' hand, dropping it on the floor before shoving Stiles against the wall and raising his right fist, preparing to punch him in the face. Y/n quickly stood in between the two instinctively, eyes glowing completely white ready to lay down her life to save the boy, Stiles looks horrified at Scott from behind y/n and Scott looks at y.n in surprise before immediately beginning to regret what he's just gone. He looks at the floor with a shameful expression before muttering to Stiles under his breath “I'm sorry. I-I gotta go get ready for that party.”Scott picks up his phone and his backpack and heads for the door, giving the pair one last apologetic look before he leaves. “I'm sorry.” He said before walking out of the door.

Stiles turned y/n around and his face turned to complete shock as he saw her eyes shift from a vibrant white back to their (y/e/c) color. Y/n looked confused at the expression on his face “are you okay” she asked worriedly. “I’m fine, a little spooked,” he said before going to pick up the chair Scott had thrown down only to see claw marks going across the fabric “y/n” he called to the girl who had been in a daze at the surge of energy. She had felt. She hummed turning around to stiles and gesturing to the clawed chair. “Oh this is bad,” she said. Stiles nodded standing up and walked towards Her putting a hand on her arm gently “do you feel okay” he asked softly. She nodded “I think the moon affecting me differently.” She said shaking her head. “You should go home, I’m going to the party I don’t think you should be there,” he said genuinely. She was about to protest but stiles grabbed her hand bringing it up to her face. Her fingernails had been replaced with sharp claws. She sighed and nodded for stiles to take her home.

During the night y/n had figured out how to keep herself from running wild by going through memory books of her and stiles. Stiles kept her grounded until she was able to fall asleep, shed woken up not too long after, in the middle of the woods. She sat up looking round worried but was startled by a man pulling her to her feet and dragging her away quickly. She protested but the grip the man had on her wrist was strong. He stopped soon after looking behind him before letting her go. She got a good look at the man, it was the man Scott, stiles and herself had seen when they were looking for Scott’s inhaler. “Who the hell are you” she asked. “I’m Derek, I’m not gonna hurt you, I just wanna help” he said. She opened her mouth to reply but she was interrupted by a voice she recognized to be her best friend.

“Where is she” scott commanded, “safe from you” Derek replied tackling scott down a hill, y/n followe quickly not fond if the idea of being left alone in the woods again. Derek had Scott pinned up against a tree “what did you do with her” Scott yelled. “Shh, quiet. Too late, they’re already here. Run” Derek commanded f=grabbing y/n’s wrist again pulling her with him. Scott was left behind blinded by a bright light before being shot by an arrow. Three men late 30’s early 40’s emerged out of the darkness “take him” The one in front said. At this Derek took down the three men while y/n tore the arrow worm his arm, causing him yo roar in pain before the tree ran away. “Who were they” Scott asks panting. “Hunters, their kind have been hunting us for centuries” Derek said. “Us? you mean you” he accused “You did this to us”. Y/n shook her head sighing in aggravation with the boy. “Is it really so bad, Scott? That you can see better? Hear more clearly? Move faster than any human could ever hope? You've been given something that most people would kill for. The Bite is a gift.” Derek stated glaring at the younger boy. Scott glared back irritated “I don't want it.” He said. Derek rolled his eyes “You will. And you're gonna need me if you want to learn how to control it.” He said as he places his hand on Scott's shoulder. “So you and me, Scott? We're brothers now.”

Derek walks away, causing y/n to chase after him “wait!” She called. He turned around looking at her questioningly, “what if I’m not like Scott” she asked. He sighed “you're not” he confirmed crossing his arms. “I’m not?” she copied. “No, I would sense it, I don’t know what you are, but I can tell you, your energy is strong,” he said, making her frown in confusion. “You're going to be strong, very strong,” he said smiling comfortingly before walking off. Y/n stood confused but walked over to Scott who was waiting for her. Neither of them said anything as they made their way back home.

[evanpeterscoffeemachine]

Calum x reader where they’re either having a nice time with their friends or the reader is taking care him somehow and he accidentally says he loves her but then gets all awkward

SAY YOU LOVE ME

Pairings : f!reader x Calum hood Warnings : I haven't mentioned age gap anywhere so there's only pure fluff

Y/n had some friends over at her house for a small gathering, party kind of a thing. Calum's friends had also come over to her house.

The pair had been dating for 4 months and thought to introduce each other's friends to them at a nice party. They liked each other so much it was amlost unreal. They hadn't met each other's parents because they weren't dating for that long.

There was light music in the background of her house. Her couch was occupied, kitchen had the booze and food was on its way. He room was upstairs so no one went there but the house wasn't so crowded because there were around 12 people there. Y/n was standing in her living room and acting host asking if everyone was having a nice time when they told her to relax and they all liked each other enough to talk. She started talking to Luke and Sierra when one of her friends joined in a chatter.

"I don't know when was the last time I saw her this glowing. I mean there is a definitely a glow on her face. She looks happy with Calum."

Turning to her friend she said, "Y/n, I approve."

All four of them laughed lightly when Luke chimed in and said, "Yes I agree with you y/f/n. I mean Cal is the guy in the band who is the anti love dude but this lady right here has him in some spell." He said while raising his drink in his hand, giving a soft smirk. "Cal is happy Y/n", said Sierra. They all started talking about their work and how that made her happy too.

She noticed a soft touch on her arm and looked back to find brown eyes.

"Hey Cal, where were you?

"Oh well, mum had called so I was just talking to her"

He joined in the circle of friends and started talking when the bell rang to her house. She walked to the front door to see what interrupted the party. She saw a food delivery guy at the door and thanked him because she was getting a little impatient because the food took so much time arriving. She took the food, paid the person and walked towards the kitchen annoucing the food was there. The kitchen was getting flooded slowly when Calum came in and snatched the stack of plates from her.

"No no. Leave it. They'll take food on their own love"

"Cal, they're my guests. What a host would I be if I'm not atleast putting down the cutlery on the table?" she gave him a knowing look.

He moved a little away from her. Luke was standing at the kitchen table when he said, "Yeah Yeah y/n it's okay. We'll be fine".

She looked at the two of them and laughed and told them to shut up and muttered what Calum heard you're both idiots. He started helping her and Luke aimed at the food which made the three laugh.

She bended a little over at the table and her hair followed. Calum pushed her bangs behind her ears and felt so deep in love. He was sure he was going to say it.

He thought he was alone when he said, "I love you y/n."

Luke's food was halfway in her mouth. Y/n stopped in her tracks and looked at him. "What?"

Poor Calum got so flustered at her simple question that he felt his entire world crumble at his feet and saw himself going back to the statement of love being a scam.

"Huh? What?" he looked at her all puzzled like a small boy who attended his first day at school.

"No wait. Go back. What did you say?"

"What did I say?"

"Calum"

"Y/n..?"

"Wait. For real? You love me?"

"Uh. What when did I say that? No. I mean what? No wait Y/n"

She lost all her patience with him when he said that. She was so shocked to hear him but it was such a cute moment. It didn't matter if Luke was present. To them, it was so intimate a moment.

"So you don't love me?" she felt a part of her being torn away as if a child's first attempt of colouring goes awry.

"No I do. I do love love. What am I saying? ugh" He ran his hand and massaged lightly onto his face. He turned towards her, when he saw Luke who was by the way, still in shock.

"Dude, what?" He asked him when he left the couple alone.

"I love you Y/n. I'm soi am in love in love with you sorry. I got flustered and I didn't know how would you react. But i know that. I love you."

He confessed.

"Oh Cal" she cupped his face lightly and he leaned in her touch. "I love you too. But i gotta say, you almost gave me a heart attack when you said no." She tapped his arm and he chuckled.

"Well, i'm glad we're finally on the same page baby. I love you lady."

They couldn't stop making heart eyes at each other the entire night. They went to bed wine drunk, half naked and all loved up. He stayed the night and dreamt of staying there for a longer time.

But wait, one step at a time.

[okay-j-hannah]

Part 6: Orange Cream and Peachy Sugar

Teen Wolf : Multishot

Stiles Stilinski x Reader

Word Count: 13.6k

Warnings: series rewrite, season 1 {aka 2011}, slow burn, friends to lovers, Stiles pining, slight NSFW, usual teen wolf levels of violence and gore, heart conditions, talk of scars {good and bad}, dementia, hospital death, abuse

Request: This just came from my own head 😊  

A/N: I COULDN'T RESIST 😭 Their chemistry is TOO GOOD

Part 5: Mieczyslaw

Part 6: Orange Cream and Peachy Sugar {You Are Here}

Part 7: The Summer Filter

Scott was frantically searching his bedroom for his phone, arguing with Stiles along the way. “The Argent’s plan was to use Derek to get the Alpha. They’re not gonna kill him.”

Stiles sways in a swivel chair, blatantly not helping. “Alright, so then just let them do what they’re planning, you know? They use Derek to get Peter, problem solved.”

“Not if Peter’s going after Allison to find Derek!”

Frown growing on his face, Stiles picks at the weathered wood of the chair, “You know this wasn’t why I came over.” He waits for a reply that doesn’t come – Scott is under his bed, throwing socks and crumpled papers out of the way. Stiles huffs, “We’ve had a major (Y/N) development… hello? Earth to Scott! (Y/N) slept in my bed last night!”

He grinds his teeth at the lack of a reaction, “And she asked me to take Allison to the formal, which is stupid because we could get Jackson or another lacrosse meathead to do that. I should be taking (Y/N) to the formal!”

Scott bangs his head on the underside of his bed, scrambling to get out, “Shut up!” he hisses.

“Ex-fucking-cuse me?!”

Scott hushes him, “I hear voices in the driveway.” He cocks his head to the window and squints his eyes in concentration.

“Who is it?”

“My mom coming home from work… and she’s been crying,” Scott deflates, sinking in on himself. “And (Y/N)’s with her.”

Stiles wheels the chair towards Scott, looking ridiculous with his legs spread out and paddling against the hardwood floor. “What are they saying?”

“(Y/N)’s trying to cheer her up. She’s asking to see me. She’s worried.” He doesn’t even have the energy to groan his sorrow as he sits on the bed, void of dramatics.

Stiles takes a breath, hearing his friends anxiety without needing the words. “Scott, you can’t protect everyone.”

The beat that follows is short and tense, resignation in Scott as he says, “I have to.”

“Well, we’re going to have to put a pause on that because (Y/N) is probably coming inside any second now.” Stiles straightens his jacket, “And she doesn’t want to be involved in any werewolf stuff, remember?”

“I don’t know how we’re supposed to be friends with her and keep her from all that,” Scott sighs, laying on his back and covering his face with his hands.

“Like it or not, she may be the eventual love of my life, meaning you have to suck it up and deal with it.” Stiles chokes on his breath as you knock on the wall before entering the open door.

You wince at the coughing fit Stiles is in, “Good morning.” Your eyes fall on Scott, “I hear something went down last night,” you fold your arms, “Melissa just told me outside. She’s seriously torn up about it.”

Scott finally is able to groan his frustrations, “Everything is going to shit.”

“Someone’s down in the dumps,” you smile, but stop upon seeing the lack of enthusiasm on Stiles’ face. “Any updates?” You play with your fingers, worry evident in your stance as you look between the boys. “Look, just because I don’t want to be there for the werewolf crap doesn’t mean I don’t want to hear about it afterwards.”

“Derek took Jackson to the Hale House and drew Scott out,” Stiles resigns, “It turned into a giant werewolf battle that ended with Scott being shot by the Argents and Derek going missing.”

You whip your head to Scott, lines of worry in your brow, “Are you okay?”

Scott lifts his shirt in a silent reply – no bullet wounds in his torso. He rolls over onto his feet and grumbles, “Deaton patched me up.”

If it was possible, your brows arch even closer to your hairline, “Deaton like your vet boss Deaton? He knows about all this too?”

“Evidently,” Stiles shrugs his shoulders.

“And Peter showed up to threaten Allison’s safety. He thinks the Argents have Derek and now I have to be on guard 24/7 to make sure she’s safe. Not to mention my mom went out with the maniac last night and you are the number one first target should a werewolf want to kill my pack…” Scott was tangling his fingers in his shaggy hair, “And with not going to the dance I don’t know how I’m supposed to keep her safe.”

You walk to stand in front of him, “Scott,” you say softly, “Noone expects you to be a guard dog for all your friends 24 hours a day. That’s impossible and too high an expectation for yourself. You’re just a sophomore in high school.” You raise your arms to grab Scott’s wrists, easing them from his head, “You shouldn’t have to be worrying about all this – it’s why you’re failing your classes.”

He lets you hold onto his arms between you, “But I have to worry; it’s all my fault. And I’ve screwed myself in the long run because now I’m banned from a whole night where anything could happen to you guys.”

You listen, eyes soft and sad, “I wanted to talk to you about who you think should take Allison to the dance, just so you feel more at ease about it.” You finally let go of his arms, returning to your finger picking. “Any ideas?”

“Jackson,” he says, ignoring the silent cheers coming from Stiles behind you. “He likes her, and they have a decent friendship, even if he won’t admit it.”

You nod, “Sounds good. Do you need me to help in any way?”

“Are you going to the dance with Andrew?” he asks, checking all his boxes.

“I don’t know,” you say, “He hasn’t asked me yet, but I have a feeling he might after our date tomorrow.” The smile on your face says it all and Scott again ignores the despair hitting Stiles – the poor boy banging his head into his crossed arms on the chair.

“Let us know,” Scott says, now fixated on finding a way to protect his mom, “We still have a week until the dance.”

You smile, but your eyes are pinched with empathy, “I’ll try to have as many sleepovers as possible with Allison and Lydia this next week,” you say determinedly, “I know you were thinking about stalking her house at night.”

“Only to keep watch,” he says with a slight upturn of his lips.

“But you need your sleep,” you pat his shoulder, turning around, “Doctor’s orders.” You spy on the last remnants of Stiles’ despair as he wipes his face of emotion. You grimace at the terrible unevenness of his hoodie strings. “And have you figured out someone to ask to the dance?”

You move to pull on his hoodie strings, evening them out as you adjust the fabric around his neck. He gulps and takes a second to respond.

“Not yet,” he gasps out a laugh, “We’ll see.”

“There’s always Lydia,” you smile, flattening the fabric against his wide shoulders. “Or you could just go stag.”

~~~

You drive with Lydia that night. It had been so long since the two of you hung out that it was almost awkward visiting the strip mall together – the same one you went to on your first date with Andrew.

The white fairy lights were just starting to turn on as you enter a beauty shop. Lydia goes right for the latest face serums while you follow along. “Don’t you already have every skincare product alive?”

“You can never have too many,” she says, holding up something pink and shiny.

“Actually, too many products can mess with your skin barrier and…”

Lydia holds up a finger, “That doesn’t stop me from having them sit pretty on my vanity.”

You giggle, running your eyes over the pretty packaging of various bottles. They really knew how to draw your attention. “I need a new lip gloss,” you say, encouraging Lydia’s shopaholic tendencies.

“Let me show you some of my favorites,” she says quickly, purse hanging from the crook of her elbow.

Shopping with Lydia was fun, especially when she made you feel beautiful and offered to buy things for you. She had you holding a few things for herself, but also a couple products for you that she refused to let you buy.

“Have you found someone to go to the formal with?” you ask nonchalantly, checking Lydia’s mood.

“I’ve narrowed it down to a couple lacrosse players. We’ll see who asks me by tomorrow.” She purses her lips and leads the way to the checkout line. “Do you know who Allison is going with?’

You hum your response, “Um… I think Jackson might ask her.”

Lydia takes a deep breath, “Sure. Why not.”

“Are you not okay with that?” you ask quietly, “I’m sure Allison will say no if you want her to.”

“I’m not going to control what that conceited little man wants to do. He was a moron to let me go – clearly I’ve been doing better than him since. You know after every lacrosse practice he just goes home? I haven’t seen him at a single after practice party.”

You pull your card out to pay for your things and she smacks your wrist. “How often does the team meet after practice?”

“Like once or twice a week,” she shrugs, “Jackson never liked to go, though. He doesn’t like doing things for popularity’s sake.”

“I’ve noticed he kind of just does things that serve his own best interests.”

“Exactly,” she says a little exasperatedly, handing you the shopping bag. “He’s so full of himself. I don’t know what’s going on with him.”

You hold open the door as Lydia storms out, shoulders tense at the thought of him. “Hey, crazy thought…” you say with a giggle, “Do you want to go spy on him?”

Lydia stops on the cobblestone sidewalk, giving you a dose of skepticism. “Are you crazy?”

“Come on, we could just drive past his house,” you say, still smiling, “It’s what girls do after a hard breakup.”

Consideration fills her gaze, slowly starting to walk again. The click of her heels builds a rhythm as her confidence grows, “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to see what he does on a weeknight. I swear he’s become so boring now.”

You laugh, linking arms with her and going for the car. You think about what Stiles said at the hospital. Jackson was focused on getting the werewolf bite. He was becoming an obsessive recluse in his hunt for power. It was no wonder that he avoided people that wouldn’t help him with his mission.

The drive to the upper class part of town was fast and full of loud music. Lydia looks determined as she turns into the neighborhood, headlights blinking off. You turn down the radio and look upon the grand estate that was the Whittmore house.

It looks renovated in comparison to some of the other houses on the street.

“They sure like a clean and modern look,” you remark at the plain white walls and geometric windows.

Lydia scoffs, parking across the street a little away. “He was always so proud of his money. Like it made him something he’s not.”

You feel a twinge of pity. “The poor thing. His Porsche is here – I bet he’s brooding in his bedroom.”

Pointing a finger, Lydia picks the window to Jackson’s room, “He’s up there; the lights on.”

The pair of you deduce what the reclusive boy might be doing. You were just laughing about anime porn and edibles when a loud voice starts yelling within the house you’re parked in front of. Lydia stops her laughter, looking to her right to peer out your window.

“Someone’s having a fight inside.”

You wince at the persistent yells, “Sounds pretty serious.” There was a crash and a boom. It made you jump being the closer of the two to the house. “Oh my god, what are they doing? Breaking things?”

A breath catches in Lydia’s throat when another bellowing yell seems to shake the windowpanes. “Maybe we should get out of here.”

Your mouth falls open when it sounds like someone slams into the front door. “Maybe we should call someone for help.”

The front door opens and a teenager falls out onto his side. He scrambles to get away from whatever was happening within. He trips down the concrete stairs of the front porch and finally makes it to his feet.

You audibly gasp, recognizing the teenager as Isaac Lahey. “Holy shit, I know him!” You go to open the door and Lydia cries out.

“Wait! We should…”

“Lydia…” you spot something bleeding on the side of Isaac’s face, “He’s hurt and he needs help.” You don’t even let her begin a retort as you leap out of the car at Isaac’s retreating form. “Isaac!”

He flinches, turning around in a frenzied motion. He looks wild with fear, holding his hands out like he was going to stop whatever was after him. In a second he looks even more uneasy, “(Y/N)?”

“Get in the car,” you say, keeping your distance, “We’ll get you out of here for a while.”

He looks at the slightly open front door and the look of desperation on your face. He swallows hard and seems fidgety with adrenaline.

“It’s okay,” you say quietly, taking a step forward. “I can help, Isaac. I work at a hospital – I can fix you up. Let’s go take a break somewhere else. Somewhere safer.”

Isaac looks to be choking on something – whether breath or words, you weren’t sure – but you feel a drop of relief as he follows your lead into the car.

Lydia looks petrified as she faces forward, two hands on the wheel. “This is not how I expected tonight to go.”

You put on your seatbelt and ask her firmly to drive to your house. “Is that okay, Isaac? My dad is at the firehouse and my mom is probably napping on the couch. She always does after having some of her tea.”

“Um…” Isaac wraps his arms around himself, trying to hide just like he did in the computer lab. “Yeah, sure.”

In those few seconds you look over your shoulder, you check the bleeding to the side of his face. The skin must’ve split open from some kind of force. In another second you notice the bruise around his eye.

It was yellow and green with age.

It’s quiet as Lydia tensely drives the car to your house. You try to silently thank her for going along with your plan. You were concocting scenarios in your mind as to why Isaac was so hurt. The yells, the bruises, the crashes and bangs, the fear as he scrambled away.

You think, sadly, of how alone Isaac always was. You realize that there wasn’t a single instance you could think of when he was with anyone. There was just that one time you spoke with him in the computer lab.

What was he actually dealing with at home?

Lydia was curt as she drove away from your house, no doubt brewing a passive aggressive text for you. Isaac, though extremely tall, seems to shrink beside you. He doesn’t look up as he follows your footsteps.

“Is this okay?” you ask gingerly, stopping at the door. “I just want to take you upstairs and have a look at that cut. It’ll be a quick bandage and then we can do whatever you like. We’ll take a break for a while.”

He seems to stew for a few seconds, not daring to look you in the eye. You suddenly wish to see them bright blue with the smile he got from laughter. The one you complimented him on. He finally speaks in a quiet tone, “Yeah, that’s okay.”

“Good,” you say, opening the door and going for the stairs. Peering over the banister you see just as you predicted. Your mother is fast asleep with a book resting open on her chest, and an empty mug of tea on the side table. “I swear that chamomile one she has puts her right to sleep.”

You walk upstairs and to the hallway bathroom. You put the toilet lid down and gesture for him to sit. Under the sink, and next to an array of things that sometimes help you when you feel faint, is a first aid kit.

Isaac looks wary as he holds his hands in his lap. It seems pretty plain what was going on. Something to do with an angry dad at home. You suddenly remember how apprehensive he was when you mentioned asking his dad for permission to go on the spring retreat.

“What was it that split your cheek open?” you ask gently, just a few inches taller than him as he sits.

He looks fearful to admit the truth. “I uh… fell.”

You nod, knowing it was a lie. “Pretty hard fall,” you give him a sad smile as he appears relieved you don’t question further. “I’m just going to clean it and put a butterfly bandage on, okay?”

He swallows again, wringing his hands, “Sure.” He winces as you swab a disinfectant wipe along his cheek.

“I’m sorry,” you say softly.

“It’s okay,” is his reply. He continues to be on edge as you pinch the cut closed and place a butterfly bandage on it. You let the silence continue if that is what he wants to do.

You’re throwing away the used wipes now, “Is that what happened to your eye?” you ask, “Another bad fall?”

He looks at you and seems to soften at the understanding in your gaze. It was warm and safe. He takes a deep breath, “Yeah. Another fall.”

“Would you consider yourself pretty clumsy?” you ask vaguely, stating the obvious without saying it out loud.

He catches on pretty quick, “It depends. Some days are better than others.”

You nod again, “Would you like something for the pain? I’ve got some ibuprofen or Tylenol.”

He agrees and follows you down the stairs again to find your mother groggy on the couch.

“Oh, hello sweetie,” she says, rubbing her eyes, “Who’s this?”

“This is Isaac,” you introduce, filling a glass with water. “He lives by Jackson Whittemore.”

Angela smiles though her eyes are droopy, “Nice to meet you, Isaac.” She suddenly squints, “What happened to your face, dear?”

He freezes as you open the medicine cabinet, “Oh, just lacrosse practice.”

He looks grateful, adding quietly, “I uh… got tackled without my helmet.”

“Boys,” Angela says funnily, “Well, hopefully it heals fast.”

Isaac gives a half smile before accepting the medicine from you, “Thank you.”

You’re still gentle as you reply, “You’re very welcome.”

~~~

The next night turns into a better one as you go on your second date with Andrew. He takes you to a Barnes & Noble, buying you a book and a coffee inside. Sitting in the little indoor café, sipping hot drinks and nibbling on pastries, you discuss your favorite genres.

Andrew listens to you with bright eyes, a sweet smile on his face. He takes you back to his house after that, turning on a Disney movie like you agreed on the last date. It only took about twenty minutes before he was pulling your chin towards his.

The night ends with a long-winded makeout and a winter formal proposal.

You were fit to burst with the information the next day, wanting to talk to the girls about the whole thing – but Allison had been off the radar the last couple of days and Lydia was attending after practice parties with the lacrosse team.

No doubt scouting for her next boyfriend (and date to the formal).

The next best option was Stiles. He picks you up and takes you to the nearest gas station for drinks and treats. You grab all your favorites, including peach rings and a large orange creamsicle.

The perfect summer treats to remind you of your favorite season.

Stiles insists on paying for the load, throwing his gummy worms and sodas on the counter. “I’d slip you cash anyway if you tried to pay.” He’s amused by your sweet smile as you open the creamsicle.

He even opens the jeep door and holds all the packages before dumping them on the floor between you.

“You’re going to step on them as you drive,” you cry, reaching down to shove all the snacks towards your feet. You almost lose a line of melting orange from your creamsicle. You lick a long stripe up the cold pop, “Should we just stop at the park?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah sure,” he says, putting the jeep in gear. “You enjoying that popsicle?”

Your lips kiss the tip of the pop, embarrassed when it makes a slurping sound, “Of course, it’s the best desert besides cheesecake.” The park isn’t far from the gas station, Stiles parking in front of the field and playground, turning off the engine. You continue to kiss and lick the creamsicle until orange and white ice cream is coating your lips.

Stiles wonders what it would taste like to kiss it off.

“My mom used to take me to this park when I was little,” you say, settling against the door and kicking your feet onto the seats.

Stiles does the same, one leg bent onto the seats and the other off the edge, able to bounce if needs be. “My mom did too,” he adds, a finger at his temple and thumb at the beginning of his jawline. He considers you, “I can see you just dying to tell me what happened.” He says it with convincing eagerness, but his face is placid as he says it.

He chooses to focus on how you lick the last remnants of ice cream off the wooden stick. It made him squirm within five seconds.

“Well, Andrew did ask me to the winter formal,” you say in hushed tones, “But that isn’t the best part. We kissed again and not just a goodbye on the doorstep kind of kiss – like a on the couch with a movie in the background kind of kiss. It must’ve been like forty-five minutes before his parents got home.”

And before you knew it, you were delving into the details of the entire night, focusing on the exciting kiss at the end. You start to compare the kissing with other boys you’ve been with before, critiquing the skill level and any corresponding downsides.

You open the sugary peach rings, chewing on them as you say, “Overall, I’d give it a solid B or B-.”

“You’re kidding!” Stiles retorts, stretching a gummy worm between his fingers, “You just went off about how great it was.”

“Yeah, but…” you shrug, sticking a peach ring on the tip of your finger like it was a life preserver for it. “… his technique was a little much.”

Stiles bites the head off his gummy worm, “What do you mean?”

“He was kind of abrasive, I had to keep telling him to slow down.” At the look of confusion on Stiles’ face, you keep going – you forget that he’s never kissed anyone before. “From the first kiss it was like he was eating my face. They were very open mouthed, and he kept trying to use tongue. I finally told him to slow down after I felt our teeth knock a couple times.”

Stiles grimaces, “That doesn’t sound fun.”

“I didn’t peg him for being the aggressive kisser,” you shrug, “It might’ve been nice if I wasn’t so surprised – like I could’ve matched his energy a bit better.”

“So, you… wait – what kind of kissing do you like?”

You ponder the question, eating the peach preserver on your finger, “I like it slow at first, you know – like you hold a cheek and draw each other in. Then it should get heavier, like more firm kisses, and you usually start moving at that point. Like… you get closer and I might sit on his lap or something.” You pull apart another peach ring, playing with the sticky gumminess between your fingers, “Then I like it when… oh my god, this was another thing! He never left my mouth.”

Stiles was only able to listen because of (1) his feelings for you and (2) the possibility that he could get some pointers on how to charm you. He had to listen to your previous encounters – a very real knife of white hot pain stuck in his collarbone and digging down his sternum – but he was getting a front row seat to your kissing preferences.

“I thought that’s how kissing works?”

You throw a candy at him, and he chases it down his chest. “Yeah, one type of kissing. But that gets boring after ten minutes. I like it when they start to kiss my neck and chest. How did you think people got hickeys?”

Stiles grumbles, head drifting to not just your ice cream lips, but the warm pulse at your neck, and the beauty marks on your skin below that. He quickly understood the desire to kiss other parts of the body.

“I get it,” he says, taking another sip of his soda. He kept finding his throat going dry, “So start slow, get more intense, and don’t forget to kiss other areas.” He nods to himself, “And the tongue thing?”

You grimace, “It can be nice if they know what they’re doing.” You sigh, slouching against the car door, “Easton from down the street was a heavy tongue guy. Like he saw one couple frenching on tv and decided that was the best way to kiss. It was like… so so wet. My chin was covered in drool by the time he left.”

Stiles was already hot around the collar, skin splotchy with red and pink. But he was starting to get an awful anxious feeling in his stomach, “There are so many things to remember.”

You look endeared as you lean forward, “But when you’re with the right person, it just feels natural. You click like all the puzzle pieces fit between you. You stop thinking about all the details and just go with what feels good.”

He tilts his head, and he looks so nervous and curious, “Was that Adam from San Fransico?”

The breath catches in your throat for a second, “Nearly. It was like a first love. It did feel natural with him, but our puzzle pieces didn’t all fit right.”

Stiles bites at his lips, “I think I had something similar to that. Never to the point where we kissed, but… I kind of obsessed over Lydia for a couple years.”

Your eyes widen, “You’re kidding, our Lydia?”

He nods, embarrassed, “Our puzzle pieces didn’t fit right either. Come to think of it, it didn’t really feel natural either. I guess that’s a pretty crummy first love, huh?” He smiles like he pities himself.

You frown, so entirely endeared by him that you feel a warmth enter your chest at his somber expression. The desire to hold him and show him what it feels like to be natural and wanted came on hard and fast.

“You can always learn to be a good kisser,” you smile, “But yes, having your puzzle pieces all fit makes all the difference in the world.”

“And how did you learn to be a good kisser?” he asks, crumbling his candy wrappers and throwing them in the back.

“That’s a bold assumption,” you laugh, “I never said I was a good kisser.”

He shrugs, playing with the hem of his shirt now, “I can just tell. There’s no way you’re a bad kisser.”

You feel rosy at those words, “I just learned from trial and error. I never had a teacher or anything.”

“I bet you’d be an excellent teacher,” he mumbles. His eyes go wide, clamping his mouth shut, biting his tongue.

You’re giddy as you laugh, “There’s only one way to find out, I guess.” Your eyes trail around his mole-dotted skin, guiding you to his slightly chapped lips and the cupids bow that leads to his perked nose. You love how red and flushed his skin is.

“What are you implying, Miss. Westbrook?” His eyes are bright, but he is deadly still.

“I don’t know,” your hands go to your temples, laughing a bit breathlessly. “Must be a sugar rush, don’t mind me.” There is something hot and heavy filling the space of the jeep, and you suddenly want to open the window to let in some cold air. You feel Stiles’ eyes on you like a deer caught in the headlights.

The silence is deafening as you turn your peachy gaze to his. He is flushed and breathing heavy and…

You consider it.

“Friends can kiss.” You pout adorably as you reason, “Scott and I kissed.”

“Not willingly,” Stiles says in his breathless voice, a small smile curling his chapped lips.

You wave a hand, “It’s purely a teaching moment.”

“Exactly…”

“But we did already make a kissing pact.”

“We can null and void the whole pact. Make it invalid based on… new circumstances.” He looks deep into your eyes before snapping out of it, shaking his head. “Wait… no, I… kissing you (Y/N)…” he was really struggling, fidgeting in his seat. “I want to but… what if I’m a terrible kisser and you’re so nauseated by it that you never want to kiss me again? I don’t wanna – I don’t want to mess it up.”

You try to decipher the speech, fogginess entering your brain as you focus on the shadows dancing across his skin.

“It’s a chance you have to take,” a smile on the tip of your words, “I did say I would help you get your first kiss out of the way.”

He struggles for breath, “Does that mean the offer still stands… to happen right now?”

You inch across the seats, in the middle now and loving how Stiles was having such a visible reaction. He goes rigid, his mouth open and eyes turning desperate. He looks scared and wanting. It looks conflicting… and hot.

“If you really want a lesson right now.” You whisper it like a newfound secret, “Only if you want to.”

“If I want to?” he sounds disbelieving, “Of course I… I mean, I don’t think I could ever say no to you, (Y/N).”

Something blossoms in your chest and it’s warm and addictive, you chase after it – prompting you to get closer, “C’mere,” you say gently and smile at how responsive Stiles is. He moves forward like a puppy searching for a treat.

You raise a hand and pause right before touching his cheek, “You sure?”

“Positive,” he says immediately, nearly leaning into your hovering hand.

You smile, touching his face and winding your hand to under his ear, your thumb in the perfect position to rub along his cheekbone. His eyes flutter close and an inaudible sigh escapes his open mouth. With the tips of your fingers reaching the back of his neck, you pull his face closer to yours. You position him at a slight angle, and he responds to your direction instantly.

He opens his eyes to find your noses nearly touching. You’re both breathing shallow, sharing the air between you, feeling it breeze and dry against your lips. He smells like candy.

And you… you smell like orange cream and peachy sugar.

“Put one hand here,” you direct his hand to your waist. Your heads stay close, gazes flickering between eyes and lips. “And another here,” you put his other to the side of your neck. His hands are so large – his fingers so long – you feel them shake as they engulf the space between your neck and shoulder. His thumb rests on your jawline while the side of his pinky sits on your collarbone. “Do what feels natural,” you whisper. “It’ll come to you.”

One hand shakes on your waist, testing a light pressure while his other hand rests very warm against the side of your neck, afraid to move.

You tilt your head to match his and find his dark honey eyes illuminated by the park streetlamps. They were still slanted in nervous desperation. He didn’t dare move, but you can tell he wants to – wants to badly.

“Close your eyes,” you say quietly, and your lips barely brush against his as you speak.

His lids close instantly – he is so pliable under your hand.

“Sorry,” he mumbles, nervously twitching his fingers against your skin.

You smile, still looking at his eager expression as you brush your nose against his slightly upturned one. And then you slot your mouth on his bottom lip. You hold it there as he tenses, his hand gripping your waist suddenly – the other digging his fingertips in the soft skin of your neck.

You pull away a few inches and say, “There… you’ve had your first kiss.”

His lips search for you, leaning forward until his eyelids fly open, “What? That’s...” his throat bobs and he clenches his teeth so you see the muscle bulge on his jaw. “Any more things you can teach me?”

You lick your lips, giggles falling out of your mouth until he cracks a small smile. You put your forehead to his, smiling wide, “The night’s still young.” You press a chaste kiss to the corner of his mouth, “You need to relax. You’re super tense, mischief. I’m giving you permission to move your hands to whatever feels natural.”

At his quick question of hesitance, you continue, “I would tell you if anything made me uncomfortable. As long as you do too.”

He nods frantically, eager to go again with less nerves this time. Winding a hand to the back of his neck and into the short crop of his hair, you pull him towards your mouth. You kiss him softly but curiously.

You peck and move. Lip lock and switch sides. Press firmly and repeatedly. And slowly the tension falls from Stiles’ shoulders. He grips you with less anxiety and with more curiosity. A hand drags up your side, feeling the dip of your waist up to your ribcage and the line of your bra beneath your shirt. His hand drags down the same path, feeling all the same things before landing on your hips, thumb feeling the edge of your jeans.

His other hand finally relaxes, long fingers winding around your neck until his thumb is resting right on your artery. The pad of his thumb tickling under your jaw. He was being light and soft near your face, only using the pads of his fingers – while his other hand was searching with more pressure.

He was just going down to put his hand on your thigh to squeeze when your breathing hitches. He pulls away instantly, lips pinker than before and eyes wide with worry. His hands are off you in a second and you almost… almost… whine in protest.

“Are you okay? Did I hurt you? Did I do something you didn’t like?”

You take a calming breath, slumping your shoulders, “No, in fact you’re taking my advice beautifully. You relaxed and started exploring – that’s one of the best parts about kissing someone new.” You brush a few strands of hair behind your ear, made loose when Stiles moved his hand to the back of your neck.

“Then why did…”

“I…” it was your turn to be shy, “I liked when you gripped my leg.”

Stiles widens his eyes with wonder now, “I made you make that noise?”

“Like I said, you take advice beautifully… and it works.”

He smiles wide, his turn to laugh at your endearing shyness. “Can we keep going?”

You match his smile and reply by going in for more kisses. This time you cup both his cheeks between your hands and Stiles squeaks in surprise. Both his hands land on your thighs, squeezing them under his larger palms.

You take a sharp intake of breath instead of making a noise, and Stiles fucking smiles against your lips.

Your hands touch his abdomen, and he sucks in taut, probably never having been touched there before. You quickly move up to his chest to find the expanse of his pectorals. Like you expected, Stiles isn’t rippled with worked muscle, but there’s a kind of lanky natural muscle beneath his shirt. You trail your hands up past his collarbones and around his shoulders. With your arms there you can pull him even closer.

He has to move his hands to the small of your back to remove any more space between you. He’s able to press you into him from that position.

Your hands search for his shoulder blades, fingers applying pressure there. His fingers were spreading wide against your lower back, thumbs wrapping around your waist while his fingertips touch your spine.

Your lips still fall into an easy pattern of firmly pressed kisses, switching sides and from top lip to bottom lip. Some are quick and rapid, others are longer and deeply felt. Your noses brush and press into cheeks as you struggle for air at times.

“When can I…” he kisses you, “…move from your mouth?”

You smile, kiss him, smile again. “Whenever it feels like…” you kiss again, “…the right thing to do next.”

He hums deep in his throat, moving his hands up your spine beneath your shoulders. Then he moves his lips. He places two quick kisses along your jaw and lands on your neck, right beneath the bend in your jaw. Your head falls back as he leaves chaste kisses there.

“Is this good?”

You breathe with your chest pressed against his, “You see how my head fell back? That means I like it and I’m giving you more access.”

He makes another low sound and it sends tingles of pleasure down to your core.

You keep a hand on his shoulder, supporting yourself while the other hand scrapes against his head, short hair bristles tickling your palm. You love the sound it pulls out of him.

“Open your mouth a little more,” you say, “Bigger kisses.”

He responds eagerly, excited to see what the change will do to you. His mouth opens more, leaving big, wet kisses under your ear and down your neck. A shiver runs through you, making your shoulders tense a little.

Then your watch starts to blare with an alarm.

Stiles flies off you like he was killing you, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” he cries, backing away to assess you. “I didn’t mean to, I’m so sorry.”

You steady yourself by gripping the back of the chair, realizing too little too late that your breathlessness was catching up to you. Your heart was working overtime. You lift your free hand, eyes scrunched as it gets harder to force air into your lungs.

“God, shit…” Stiles mumbles, coming closer again. He puts one hand on your chest, over your sternum. And his other hand holds the side of your face, thumb resting at your temple. “You feel my hand? Do you see it moving with your breaths? You need to move your breaths to your belly – your belly should move with breaths, not your chest. Try to make my hand stop moving.”

You look at him with watering eyes, your heart beating erratically in your ears. Stiles was counting the seconds until you start belly breathing – breathing with your diaphragm.

“There you go, that’s better.”

You slump into his neck and his hand wraps to the back of your head, the other to your back.

“That was unexpected,” you say quietly, lips tickling his neck.

He laughs, “I’m guessing you liked the other kisses more than the grabbing the thigh thing?”

“Maybe just a tad bit,” you say, “I told you I liked it beforehand.”

“You did,” he says, pulling you back to get a good look at your face. “You’re okay.”

You smile, “I’m okay.”

He starts to get this giddy look, “We kissed.”

“That we did.”

“Like a lot.”

“It was a lesson in many things.”

He screws up his lips, “And you liked it.”

“You take direction well.”

“I don’t know why guys don’t ask more,” he marvels, “It would make every makeout exactly what you want.”

“You are a rare breed,” you bite your lip and his eyes dart to look. “Did you like it?”

“I loved it.”

His quick answer pulled a laugh out of you. And once you start, you can’t stop. Stiles finds it cute and finds himself laughing too. Just two friends giggling in the car after an impromptu round of kissing. It was warm and light and felt… good.

“I don’t think you need to worry about messing things up with the next girl,” you say, scooting back to your side of the car, “You’ll do just fine.”

His laughing stops abruptly. “The next girl?”

“Yeah…?” you smile with a furrowed brow. “You wanted to learn to be a good kisser, right? To have your first kiss out of the way for any future girls?”

He looks put out, slightly angry, and… defeated. “Right, we had that pact.”

“Right,” you say, wondering what was miscommunicated between you two. “Maybe we should… head home for the night.”

“Yeah,” he says quietly, looking for his keys, “Andrew will probably be sending you a goodnight text any second now.”

You scrunch your brow, lips resting in a frown as he turns the jeep on. You’re quick to notice the steamy windows from your hot and heavy kissing. You would’ve laughed at it if you didn’t feel like something was off in Stiles.

With the air conditioning and heater broken, you roll down the windows and Stiles tells you to stay in the car as he wipes down all others outside.

You watch him with a finger between your teeth. Did you just mess up?

~~~

You spend the next couple days trying to convince yourself that kissing Stiles was simply practice kissing. There wasn’t anything past friendly feelings between you two. It was a no strings attached kind of makeout.

It had to be.

You didn’t have feelings for Stiles. You were going out with Andrew Wickstrom for gods sake.

And again you feel guilty. If you acknowledge any interest in Stiles, then kissing him was a betrayal to Andrew.

But it’s not like you were seriously dating Andrew.

But maybe to him you are.

You hadn’t found a reason to talk to Scott and Stiles outside your friendly conversations at school. Scott didn’t usually text you, but Stiles? If he couldn’t think of a good enough reason to climb the garden trellis, he would text you about the most random things.

Facts about honeybees, star wars memes, updates on a Dateline investigation you were following, werewolf puns, and links to things he thought would make you smile.

Recently? He hasn’t texted you at all. While he wasn’t avoiding you at school, he sure as hell was when you were home.

You are currently in the mall with Lydia and Allison, picking out dresses for the winter formal. All three of you are acting distant and suspicious of each other, which is not a good look for the pretty girls club.

Getting onto an escalator, you question Allison about her frequent absences.

“Nothing’s wrong,” she says, “I just have a lot on my mind.”

You wonder if there’s been a recently discovered secret in her family – maybe like a kidnapped werewolf?

“But Jackson’s taking you to the formal,” you say, “That was nice of him.”

“Yeah, just two recently broken up friends supporting each other by going to the school dance,” Allison says with smiling sarcasm. “And what dumb, roided-up jock did you say yes to?” she asks Lydia.

“Ben Manley,” Lydia sighs, “More of a himbo if you ask me, but he’ll look good in the pictures.” She drags you two towards the prom dress section, quick to pull dresses to try on. She’s four hangers in by the time you find one you like.

“Advice,” you say to Allison, “Do I care if my surgery scars show, or do I go with a collar that climbs up to my neck?” You hold up one deep blue dress that has a lower heart-shaped neckline and another soft purple dress with a small v-neck shape that stops just under the collarbone.

Allison considers for a second, “The blue is more flattering, and you’d look great in that color. I’d say screw whoever doesn’t like you for your scars. They’re the reminder that you’re still alive.”

“Damn, okay,” you smile, “I’m going to try the blue one on.” You fling the purple chiffon dress onto a mannequin display and head for the dressing rooms.

Lydia is there with a small pile of dresses she’s already said no to. You talk to her loudly between the dressing cubicles.

“How’s it looking?”

“The cream chrome one is promising,” she says, “Hey, are we hanging out after this? I’ve got a new foot soaker I want to try. We can do mani pedis before the dance.”

You shimmy into your blue gown, loving how it flairs at your waist in beautiful night sky sparkles. “Yeah, I’d love a sleepover! It’ll be the perfect way to get ready for the dance.” There are two thick straps of the same dark blue fabric that go over your shoulders. The neckline falls lower in a heart shape, outlining the curve of your breasts and revealing your arms and chest.

The scar from your heart defect correction is less raised, less discolored, and less noticeable – but you see it run down the center of your chest. The small, three-inch incision scar from last summer is newer and still red and raised above your heart. And finally the four deep claw marks that dig around your left shoulder and arm – they leave actual divots in your flesh, and you can’t help running a finger over them. They went up and down like tiny rollercoasters.

“Get out here, Westbrook. I want to see if it’s a keeper.”

You take a deep breath, shaking your fingers through your hair to give it more volume. You step into the hallway and find Lydia in a shiny cream colored dress, complete with a black flower in her hair.

“You look amazing,” you say, smiling, “And the dress really shows off your legs. You gotta pair it with a heel.”

“I look amazing?” Lydia gawks, “Look at how flattering that one is on you! It doesn’t flair out like a ballgown, but enough to give you an airy look. And the top is stunning, it fits your figure well.” She doesn’t even mention the scars.

You grin, “I think that settles it. We’ve got our winners.” Lydia goes to change, and you agree to show Allison since she picked the dress for you.

You walk out barefoot, lifting your dress a little to give you easier access to walk faster. You find Allison holding a funny feathered dress to a mirror. It takes you a second to realize that she isn’t alone.

A man is there holding a silver dress to her figure. A man you recognize at a second glance.

It was Peter Hale, one of your long-term patients at the hospital – and the Alpha.

You run over, calling for Allison’s attention, “What do you think?”

She looks grateful to be rescued, “Absolutely beautiful, (Y/N). That’s the one for sure.”

“(Y/N)?” Peter says, “Ah, yes – you look stunning.” He goes to shake your hand, “Peter.”

You hesitate. He’s playing the ‘never-met-you-before’ coverup. “I think I’ve seen you before. Maybe… at the hospital? That’s where I work.”

He has a clever smirk on his face as he retracts his hand, “No, I don’t think so.”

“Somewhere else maybe…” you stare him down. “Like the local video store perhaps.”

“Never been much into movies,” but he does look at your exposed skin to admire his handywork to your shoulder, “You’ve got quite the collection there.” He smiles, “Wearing them like badges of honor.”

“Like a friend said,” you say, chin held high. “They’re a reminder that I’m still alive.”

He still has that subtle smirk, otherwise very rigid and unsettling, “Yes, you are.” He sounds like he would add, ‘not for long’ to the end of that.

The PA system comes on and a fuzzy woman’s voice says, “Attention, shoppers. The owner of a blue Mazda, your car is being towed.”

“What?” Allison says, “That’s my car!” She runs to find the front desk or the car outside.

You’re left with Peter, barefoot and in a pretty starry dress. He looks to you with a plain expression that held sinister notions regardless.

“Well played,” he mutters, “Scott.” You don’t dare look away from him as he talks to the thin air. “Just remember… you can’t be everywhere all the time.” He looks to you with roaming eyes, “It’s been nice seeing you, (Y/N). I’m glad you like my addition to your complexion so much. It makes me think you may want more to add to this masterpiece.”

You hate the way he stays there to gauge your reaction. You stand firm, but your fingers dig into the fabric of your dress.

“You really do look stunning in that dress,” he smiles, “It’d be a shame if it got shredded.” He walks away, leaving you feeling strangely violated and targeted. You feel angry and unsafe.

Scott was at your side in seconds, grabbing your arms, “(Y/N)? Are you okay?”

You take a shaky breath, “He’s a persistent bastard.”

“Yeah, and he’s just threatened to attack you – probably at the dance judging by how he complimented your dress.” He stands straight, listening for Lydia or Allison. “Listen, I heard how you’re having a sleepover tonight. That’d leave me free to…”

“I’ll look after the girls,” you smile, still cold and shaky from the encounter. “You look after your mom and the boys.”

He gives you a look, clearing his throat, “Right, course.”

You squint your brow, “What has Stiles told you?”

Scott scratches at his head, looking anywhere but you, “Nothing much, he’s been quiet these days.”

“Impossible,” you snort, “You may be a super cool teenage werewolf, Scott – but you are a terrible liar.”

He looks defeated, “Look, he told me how you guys kissed and he’s… he’s kind of hung up on it.”

“In what way?”

He bites his lip, looking painfully awkward, “He doesn’t want you thinking it was a mistake. He’s… scared you regret it.” Scott shoves his hands in his pockets, “He realizes it might be weird trying to be friends, and you with Andrew… he’s trying to keep the friendship civil.”

“Civil?” you scoff, “It was a no feelings kiss.”

Scott keeps his mouth shut, nodding his head and backing away, “I’ll see you at school tomorrow.”

Your mouth is left hanging open as he walks away. Did you feel regret for the kissing? You put one hand on the silken fabric covering your hip, the other hand going to rub away the worry lines in your forehead.

Did you feel guilty because you had been going on dates with Andrew? Had you ever set clear expectations with Andrew before? If he felt like this was taking a direction into serious relationship territory, you would definitely feel guilty.

And Stiles not being completely himself…? Was that really because he was worried you thought the kiss was a mistake? Or was it because of some other unknown reason.

Returning to the dressing rooms, you knew one thing was for sure. You were in desperate need of a girls night.

~~~

In the second story living room of the Martin house, you three spend hours into the night pampering yourselves and raving about whatever came to mind.

When Harry Met Sally plays quietly on the tv in front of you, Allison leaning onto the couch and painting her toes a white color.

“I hope I don’t smudge these before they dry.”

“Here’s a fast drying topcoat you can put on them,” Lydia tosses a small clear polish. She was stuck in the armchair beside the couch with her feet bubbling in the new foot soaker. “I think I’m going to go with black for my toes. Maybe black French tips with my fingernails.” She admires her hands as you place the black polish bottle near her for later use.

You sit between the two, your toes drying an inky blue color while you prepare to paint your nails. You unscrew a pretty sapphire blue. “Can I ask you guys something?”

“Please,” Lydia pouts, leaning back in her chair.

“Do you consider Andrew and I in a serious relationship?”

Allison frowns, focusing on her brush strokes, “Um… maybe? You guys have been dating exclusively, right?”

“Only two dates.”

“No,” Lydia clicks her tongue, “You guys have had two dates and a few noncommittal kisses. I don’t think that means you’re dating seriously.”

Allison dips her brush again, “But if you’re not seeing anyone else then people will think you’re exclusive.”

“But what if I have seen someone else,” you shrug, “I guess that doesn’t matter if Andrew thinks something different.”

There was a splash, “Hold the phone. Are you saying you’ve gone out with someone else recently?”

You pull an indecisive face, “Well, no – just maybe had a… makeout.”

Allison gasps while Lydia giggles, “Oh my god, with who?!”

“I don’t know if I want to talk about it yet.”

“Well, if you’re kissing other boys then you definitely don’t think you’re seriously dating,” Allison shakes her head, “Does Andrew?”

Your shoulders tense as you focus on your nails, “I don’t know. We never had a ‘what are we’ talk. And I never told him I didn’t want anything serious.”

“Ouch,” Allison grimaces, “I think he really likes you.” 

Lydia has her arms folded tightly, “Was it Josh Arnett?”

“Gross,” you accuse, “Absolutely not.”

“Tanner Humphries?”

“No, Lydia,” you huff, “What do I tell Andrew?”

Allison stretches her legs out and wiggles her newly painted toes, “You tell him the truth. At least, you tell him you don’t want anything serious.”

“I bet it was Lucas McCrary,” Lydia muses.

“Should I do that before the dance?” you ignore Lydia. “I think it’ll hurt him.”

Allison fishes in the bucket of self-care on the couch cushion, “It’s better than leading him on further.” She extracts an avocado sheet mask.

“Was it at least someone on the lacrosse team?” Lydia interjects.

You give a tired smile, “Because those are the only boys you know?”

“The only boys I care about.”

You finish one hand and ask Allison to help with the other, “What if Andrew decides he doesn’t want to take me to the dance anymore?”

“Then…” Allison takes the sapphire blue from you, “You go stag and hangout with us. I have a suspicion that Jackson isn’t going to be the most enjoyable date.”

“Oh! Please tell me it was Tyler O’Connell – no girl can get her hands on him.”

You laugh and faceplant into the couch, “Tyler O’Connell is gay. Danny has had a little crush on him for months.”

“Huh,” she huffs, “I’m usually good at catching those things.”

“I think I’ll talk to him after school tomorrow,” you rub your worry lines with your free hand. “If anything Allison, you and I could just be each other’s dates.”

“I have a feeling I’ll be abandoned by the end of the night with how Jackson’s been acting,” she sighs, doing a second coat on your nails. “I wouldn’t mind a sweethearts dance with you.”

Lydia is having an existential crisis in the armchair, confined with her feet in the soaker. “Well, it can’t be Cameron Sanchez because he’s going with that Brittany girl in homeroom. It’s not Henry, is it?”

“What’s with the tone?” you giggle, “I like Henry Greenburg even if Coach is a little harsh with him.”

“What about…” she widens her eyes, “What about dork #2?”

Allison freezes with the paintbrush still on your nail. You take a moment to decipher what Lydia just asked.

“Who is…” you clamp your mouth into a thin line.

“Oh my god!” Lydia stands with her feet still in the soaker.

Allison flinches, “Holy shit.” She looks at your nails, “Oh, shit – I’m sorry, (Y/N).” She takes a cotton swab to fix the smudge of blue going down your ring finger. “I just… I mean…”

“What was that dorks name?” Lydia squeals, waving her hands frantically and snapping at Allison. “He’s – god, what’s his name!” She looks ridiculous being rooted to one spot but moving her upper torso like a madwoman, “He’s the little weirdo… the idiot in love!”

Your face is positively blooming red, it’s scorching, as you bury your face in a couch pillow. Allison is quick to correct her mistake to your nails, replying in a much calmer and heartwarming voice. “Stiles Stilinski.”

“Stiles!” Lydia cries in triumph before frowning, “That’s his name?”

“Yes,” you cry out, “Yes, Stiles. And it was another noncommittal kiss. It was absolutely no feelings. I was just helping him out.” In your embarrassment you slap your free hand to cover your mouth, “God, don’t ask me why,” you mumble.

Allison waits for Lydia to ask – like she knew she would.

“Why?” Lydia says, still standing in the foot soaker.

“It doesn’t matter,” you pat at your flaming hot cheeks, “What matters is that I did kiss him, and I need to clarify with Andrew that I’m not looking for a relationship.”

“I knew he was going to grow on you,” Allison mumbles with a sweet smile on her face. She finishes doing your nails and sits back on the couch. “He’s been obsessed with you for months now.”

You shake your head, “Stiles is just… very enthusiastic. He was just excited about getting a kiss.”

“From you,” Allison smirks.

Lydia is jumping out of the foot soaker and toweling her feet, “At least he’s on the lacrosse team.”

You blow out a breath and hope it calms the redness in your face. “It’s not like that. He’s…” you hesitate. “He’s a good friend.”

Allison grimaces, “I wouldn’t be too sure about that.”

~~~

You wring your hands as you pace at the end of the hall, next to the vending machines. You wait for Andrew to leave his last class, the bell having just rung. It was eating at you thinking of a way to talk to him without hurting his feelings.

But there was no way around it – even if the dance was in two days, you weren’t going to continue playing with Andrew’s feelings.

The tall, dimpled boy comes out and sees you instantly. He smiles and jogs to reach you, excited to see you waiting.

Shit.

“Hey,” he gives you a hug and a kiss to the cheek, “How are you?”

You swallow hard, “I wanted to talk to you about something.” You pick and pull at your fingers, looking up at him with a face that scares him.

He furrows his brow, nodding his head toward the empty ceramics classroom. There weren’t any art classes on Tuesdays and Thursdays. “Then let’s go talk.” He guides the way and opens the door for you.

You have a terrible guilty feeling in your stomach. You’ve never had to let someone down before.

Among the desks with spinning wheels dusted with dry clay, you stand in the middle of the room. “Andrew… I wanted to ask what you see between us… for the future.”

He still looks skeptical, but there’s a smile enveloping his face. “Well, I’ve liked how our dates have been so far. And I really like you, (Y/N).” His dimples are out full force, shadowed by the dim lighting. “I want to see where this goes. I think we could get serious. I’m – I’m looking for something serious. But… I want to hear what you have to say first.”

You pinch your fingertips, “Um… well I’m glad we’re having this talk.” You swallow thickly and the smile on Andrew’s face dips. “I… I’m not looking for something serious.”

“Oh,” Andrew says dryly. His face is in full shadow now. “I see, uh… have you always felt that way?”

You nod while you try to find your voice again. The look of hurt on his face was making the guilt in your stomach flare tenfold. “I don’t want a boyfriend in high school.”

He nods slower, looking to the ground. “I wish I knew that sooner.”

“I’m sorry,” you say, “I should’ve been more clear in the beginning. I thought we were just having some fun.”

“Fun,” he laughs sardonically. “No, I should’ve been more honest with what I was looking for.” His eyes were sad, but he put a smile on his face. “I’m glad you told me.”

You nod, desperate for his words. “I totally understand not wanting to see each other anymore…”

“That would probably be for the best,” he runs a hand through his curly hair.

“And… and we can go separately to the dance,” you say quickly, “I don’t mind.”

He looks at you with slight concern, “I don’t want you to go alone.”

“I have some friends I can go with.”

The room feels smaller, colder than you remember. It was an awful feeling telling someone you don’t like them in that way. You did not like hurting people.

Andrew was nodding to himself in agreement, “Then I hope you have a good time with your friends.”

He was being so kind to you when you felt you didn’t deserve it. It was your fault he was sad. Your fault that he didn’t have a date for the dance. Your fault that his feelings were being hurt now.

A stinging was building behind your eyes. “Thank you. I hope you do find someone to be serious with. You deserve it.” A lump builds in your throat, “You’re a good guy, Andrew.”

He sighs deeply, “I guess I’ll see you later then.”

“Sure,” you say quietly, voice being overtaken by emotion. And you’re left in the dark, cold room. Guilt eating at you and shame whispering terrible things in your ear. You almost wish he had blown up about it; yelled at you for not being completely honest in the beginning. It hurt worse hearing his quiet acceptance of the rejection.

You’re grateful the classroom is abandoned when a tear falls from your eye.

~~~

“Why didn’t you stop by Lydia’s house?” Stiles accuses, arms in the air, “That was prime time to overhear girl talk!”

“I wasn’t going to spy and eavesdrop,” Scott scolds, leading the way out of their last class of the day. “That wouldn’t be right when I still need to keep you and Jackson safe.”

Stiles rubs harshly at his face, silly noises of outrage spilling out, “But how else am I going to hear how (Y/N) feels about the whole jeep-makeout thing?!”

“I don’t know, talk to her?” Scott deadpans.

“Yeah, right,” Stiles scoffs, “I’m such an idiot. How else is she supposed to feel about it? She told me she doesn’t date seriously, and she told you how it happened with no feelings…” A white hot pain stabs his sternum, his heart roiling excruciatingly. “I just… I wanted it to be real.”

Scott sighs, pulling at his too long hair, “Listen, if she is seeing you in a friends with benefits kind of way, I don’t see why you can’t give it a shot.”

For a few moments Stiles dwells on the thought of having all the benefits of a relationship without commitment. It was tempting but... “I want more than that.”

“Wow,” Scott raises his eyebrows, “I’ve never heard such mature words leave your mouth before.”

“Shut up,” Stiles groans, “I just wish she’d talk to me!” He goes for one of the back doors by the vending machines, “She does this thing where she tells me the truth without the whole truth.”

“You mean with her heart?”

Stiles rubs hard at his eyes, “It’s got to be the reason for everything. I tried to get my dad to tell me about it and he pulled the ‘doctor-patient-confidentiality’ thing on me.” He grumbles, letting his backpack drop from his shoulders, “I’ve never… I don’t know how I’m supposed to go on like this.”

Scott sits on a hallway bench, watching his friend wallow in his self-pity and broken heart. “It starts out that way. But it gets easier.”

“What do you know about unrequited love, genius?” Stiles puts his hands on his hips, “You got to be Allison’s boyfriend with the dating and the kissing and the feeling her up…”

“Watch your mouth,” Scott points a finger.

Stiles slumps to the floor and against the stone wall. “And now we’re all targets in a major werewolf operation. How do you think the dance is going to go?”

“I don’t know. I’m still going to be there,” Scott says with a sad smile, “Even if Coach is up my ass.” He stands from the bench, “I should probably find a suit before my shift at the vet clinic.”

“Yeah,” Stiles mumbles, lifting a few fingers in a goodbye, “I’m gonna grab a snack before I go – see you later.”

It took another minute before Stiles could get off the ground. Thoughts of you swirling permanently there. The feel of your warm, soft skin. The pressure of your lips on his. The thrill of hearing you react to the things he was doing. He could still smell the sweet fruity scent of your hair, your lips sticky sweet with sugar.

Had it all been a dream? You sure acted like it with how the whole night was yet to be a topic of conversation.

But the feel of you, as dreamlike as it had been, was grounded in his mind like a chain to a wall. He would never forget how your head fell back, how your fingers went through his hair, how your lips fit so well between his own. Fit like a puzzle piece.

He thought that the kiss would lessen his ache of unrequited love – that he would have at least gotten a taste. But sitting there with the deep ache beating a little stronger in his chest – he knew it was going to be even more painful to be around you and not spout what he was feeling.

Like he told Scott, he wanted more. It was more than the sugar left on your lips. It was the way his dad smiled at the homecooked meal. The way he felt he could mention his mom around you. The fact that you were the first girl he could be alone with and not feel completely at a loss.

He rubs his forehead again, standing as though lead was in his stomach. He felt nauseous. It was making him sick how much he wanted you.

Then an empty classroom door swings open and Andrew Wickstrom walks out, head down and expression bleak.

He walks right out the back doors into the late afternoon light. And the slump in his shoulders made Stiles curious. All thoughts of a snack out of his mind, he stands, abandoning his backpack, and inches toward the empty classroom.

He wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but seeing you standing there, holding yourself as tears fell from your eyes was not it.

The deep ache in his chest pulses like it yearns for you. Having you in his vision was enough to make the roiling in his heart pucker with hope. But the lead in his stomach becomes heavier as he pushes the door open.

“(Y/N)?”

You snap your wet eyes to him, “Stiles, what are you doing here?”

He continues to inch forward, eyes never leaving your face, “I was just going to stop by the vending machines before heading out.” He stops a few feet from you, “What happened?”

You sniff, wiping at your eyes that just continue to stream. “I told Andrew I don’t want anything serious.” Your brow is furrowed into permanent lines, face screwed up like it’ll stop whatever emotion is trying to get out. “And he was pretty hurt by it.”

Stiles takes another step forward, fingers twitching at his sides. Was it okay to touch you? “Andrew doesn’t seem like the type to get real upset by a breakup.”

“He was being so kind to me,” you hiccup as you continue to hold back, “And I was hurting him.”

“But you were being honest, which is better than leading him on,” Stiles says quietly. He’s now just a foot away from you.

“I’ve never had to turn someone away like that,” more tears were cascading down your face, much to your chagrin, “It did not feel good.”

Stiles lifts one of his hands, meaning to touch your shoulder, but you accept it as an invitation for a hug. He almost sighs in relief and wraps his arms around you tightly, keeping you pressed to him like it would staunch the ache in his chest.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers into your strawberry scented hair, “If it had to be with anyone, though – I’m glad that it was Wickstrom. He is a good guy.”

You sigh and it stutters with emotion, “It’s all my fault.” You nuzzle into his shoulder, “If I was braver I would’ve kept it going.”

“What do you mean?” Stiles was holding your waist with one hand and rubbing up and down your spine with the other.

“If I was braver, I’d get into a relationship.” You let the tears run from your cheeks and soak into Stiles’ shirt. “I’m a coward.”

Stiles runs his fingers down your back in a soothing motion, “It’s okay not to be ready for a relationship.”

“That’s not it,” you pull away, wiping at the tears making your skin itch. “I’m sorry, I’m talking nonsense.”

“No! No, wait…” Stiles was getting desperate, “You don’t have to stop there. (Y/N), I want to know what’s wrong. I want to know why. Please don’t brush it off like it’s nothing – I can see how it bothers you.”

You shake your head, trying to swallow past the lump in your throat. “Trust me, this is not the time and place for that conversation.”

Stiles pinches his lips together, finding it more difficult to be patient. “What could be so terrible that you avoid it this badly?”

There’s a heavy silence and you open your mouth like you’re about to say something. He can see it on the tip of your tongue, eyes shiny and cheeks raw. It looks painful for you to say it out loud. He feels instant regret for trying to force it out of you.

“I’m sorry,” he says, walking over to pull you into a quick, but firm, apology hug. “I’m sorry, I just want to help. I hate seeing you like this.”

You gulp, “I… I think I’ll be able to tell you soon. I just… right now with… it’s not the right time.”

He nods quickly, “I get it.” He puts some space between you, watching your face carefully, ready to catch you should your heart give out. He puts a thumb between your brows and wiggles it around like it’ll ease the tension enough to remove the lines of worry.

You melt a little, a smile curling the sides of your mouth, “I’m sorry you walked in on that.”

He shrugs, “I’m not sorry at all.”

You take a deep breath, remembering to fill your belly with it and not your chest. “I guess I’m going to the dance without a date now.”

There’s a leap in his chest and Stiles wonders if his heart was the one about to give out. “I can take you!” he says before you even finish your sentence.

You smile wide this time, “I probably shouldn’t go with another boy after just breaking things off with Andrew. I am going with Allison and Lydia, though.”

His leaping heart crash lands, “Sure, right – that makes sense.” He’s grateful for the dimly lit classroom keeping his embarrassment blush in shadow. “I’ll still be there though, for a dance or two.”

“I’d like that,” you grin, eyes bright but no longer tear-filled. “Could I get a ride?”

“Always.”

~~~

Melissa trades patient files with you at the newly refurbished nurses station. You exchange some words of note about certain patients on the floor. She reminds you to drink more water and you remind her to take a break.

She smiles at your avoidance, “How are the dance preparations going?”

You show her the shiny blue nail polish on your fingers.

She squeals and admires them, “Ah, I miss dances. And the dress?”

“Like starlight,” you breathe, taking a twirl around the hall, “But with flats because I am not venturing into battle in four-inch heels.”

Melissa sighs, “Dances are so much more fun with girls. Scott refuses to show me his suit and he’s never home anymore.” She leans against the counter, “I hope he’s okay.”

You give a thin smile, “He’s doing his best. With Allison and lacrosse and his grades… he’s doing his best. Trying to do more than that actually.”

“He expects a lot of himself,” Melissa nods. “I’m glad he has friends like you with him.” She checks her watch when she asks, “And the Andrew thing?”

“Over,” you shrug, a day after the breakup and still a little tender. “We wanted different things, and I thought it best not to drag it out.”

“Man, better than just ghosting him,” she says with a bitter tone, “How mature of you.”

You remember the terrible date she went on with Peter Hale. Jackass. “It was the right thing to do. And I’ll just save a few dances for my friends. It’ll still be a nice night.” You sit in a swivel chair, arms folded, “There’s no way I’m going to miss my chance to go to a school dance.”

Melissa gives you a soft, sad smile, “Well, kiddo – I’m off to make my rounds. Mr. Hendrickson has been calling my button for the last ten minutes. I swear I’m going to take his tv away if he keeps asking me how to change the channels.”

You laugh, saluting her off, and returning to the rest of your charting. You were just marking when you administered medications when a soft tap to your counter caught your attention.

Standing there was Scott and Stiles.

“Hello,” you say cheerfully, “How are my boys?”

Both lift their hands to reveal brown paper bags. Scott grins, “We might’ve brought you guys dinner?”

“Greasy takeout,” Stiles corrects, “But edible enough for dinner.”

You sigh, heart warmed, “Well, your mom just went into room 18 down the hall,” you point, “But we can take our break when she gets back.”

“No, I’ll wait for her,” Scott says quickly, already down the hall, “We’ll catch up with you guys later.”

Stiles shrugs at your look of suspicion, “Where do you usually eat?”

You lead Stiles from the elevators to the hospital cafeteria. There you find a round table by the windows to sit. It was dark outside with the perfect view of the moon over the mountains. Stiles seems a little uncomfortable as he follows you through the building.

He keeps looking behind his shoulder and peering into patient rooms with big eyes.

“Burgers and fries?” you ask hopefully.

Stiles lays the meal out on grease stained napkins, “Bon Appetit.”

You lean into him, “Thank you, I wasn’t planning on dinner tonight.” You start with your fries as he looks at you with contempt.

“Because that’s a great idea with your prone to fainting condition.”

“Why did you guys really stop by?” you always start with your fries, saving the main meal for last. You focus on them as Stiles thinks of something to say, eating his hamburger like it was his first meal in days.

He gives a funny half shrug, “Scott needed to check on his mom with his whole ‘patrolling-the-pack’ schedule. He asked if I wanted to come, and we came up with the excuse of getting us all dinner.”

“Brilliant,” you say, finding that the drink he brought was filled with your favorite soda. “Any news from the Alpha?”

“Not since you guys went dress shopping,” he wipes at his mouth with his sleeve. “Which, by the way, I would’ve loved to come to.”

“No you wouldn’t of,” you laugh, “Helping girls carry their dresses and waiting forever to critique every outfit with the same indifferent words… sounds terribly boring.”

He takes a deep breath as he downs his drink. “Sounds like fun. Helping you pick out a dress? I’d run out the red carpet so you could practice your model walk. We’d play montage music with different colored lights. We can make trying on dresses fun.”

“I don’t know how to model walk,” you giggle.

He nods in mock seriousness, “You just have to look like you’re about to sneeze and the thing you’re wearing is giving you a massive wedgie.” He moves his shoulders around in a pretend walking motion, his face slightly pinched like his nose was itching.

You were laughing by the time he coached you into making the same ridiculous face. Then he flinched when a group of resident doctors walked in loudly, ready for their dinner. He looks uncomfortable again, picking at his fries half-heartedly.

You consider him for a minute, “You don’t like hospitals, do you?”

He huffs a laugh, “What gave you that idea?”

“You’re being more twitchy than usual.”

He eyes you, “I’ve been here plenty of times, you haven’t made that observation before.”

“You’re really thinking about it today,” you press, “Is something wrong?”

He ticks his jaw, playing with his fries. “I used to eat in here a lot… when my mom was here.”

Your chest goes tight. Of course it has something to do with his mom, “Stiles, I’m…”

“My dad used to leave me here when he went to work,” he keeps going, “The nurses were all my friends, and I ate dinner in the cafeteria all the time. They would save an extra chocolate pudding for me sometimes.” He smiles in painful fondness, “I was alone when… when she…”

He couldn’t say it.

You scooch closer to him, letting him talk without you interrogating him. He looks at your eager expression with a soft smile, “She had frontotemporal dementia.” He leans closer to you subconsciously, enjoying the security he felt near you.

“It started with little things like she couldn’t pick up her keys and she wouldn’t sleep at night. Then she couldn’t function at her job, so she stayed home. Then she started to get… scary.” He takes a deep swallow, “She started seeing things – hallucinations – and became paranoid sometimes. We had to hospitalize her soon after that.”

You knew the symptoms of frontotemporal dementia. Some of the long-term patients at the hospital had dementia. But you let him continue to talk without your input. You could guess that he didn’t talk about his mom very often, especially her death.

You put a hand on his arm as silent support.

He takes a breath at your touch, “When I’d visit, I didn’t know if I’d see my mom or the patient dealing with dementia.” His eyes look a little glassy as he continues, “It was hard spending so much time here. I knew she wasn’t going to come home. And then one night when my dad was on call… it was just me at her bedside.”

You rub your thumb into his forearm, “How old were you?”

“Eight,” he says, sniffling as the emotion burns his throat. “Seeing her deteriorate that fast… it was awful.” His lip trembles, “That was my mom, you know?”

You move your arm around his back, resting your head on his shoulder. It was a hug you could give while sitting at a table. “I know.” You squeeze him tight, “It must’ve been horrible.”

His breathing was shaky, “It was,” he rubs roughly at his eyes, “I wouldn’t wish that on my worst enemy. Not even Derek Hale.”

“What about Mr. Harris?”

He makes a considering face, a smile curling his lips. “Maybe.”

You pinch him, “That’s terrible.” You trail your fingers across his back, looking for more tears, “Why tell me?”

He watches you wipe away a tear before it reaches his chin, “Because I wanted you to know.” He shrugs, eyes a little redder, “I like you, and I trust you.”

You watch him with rosy cheeks. An immense feeling of pride was swelling in your chest. Stiles chose you, out of dozens of people, to talk about the death of his mom. A horribly sensitive subject for him. He had gone out of his way to be in an environment that reminded him of uncomfortable things to bring you dinner. He opened up to you and gave you a large part of his heart.

He was doing it partially to tell you things he wanted you to know – things you needed to know to be close to him – but also to partially tell you that it was okay to open up about horribly sensitive stuff.

He wanted to hear your story too.

But how could you now? You feel a pang in your chest. How could you explain to Stiles that you would reach a similar end before too long. An end like his moms.

~~~

Taglist: @assassinsasha23 @tasty-book-fans @lovelybaka @the-fandom-queen @runs-with-sciss0rs @iamaslytherin0 @n3muru @bethsvrse @taylorbrooke-0912 @iloveyou2mia @everrrsincenewyork @gisellesprettylies @dullypully @taylordaughter @greenoliveslover

[loverslodge]

Trusting Love

Summery: You are a nemeton born prophet and Stiles maybe had a difficulty trusting you while you kept on falling in love with him

Pairing: Stiles Stilinski x Reader

Warnings: mention of trauma, angst, fluff

A/N: this is my very first work. very excited to dive into writing the world of fanfictions that have occupied my brain.

The fight with Nogitsune had ended. Stiles had returned to his pack and Scott was glad to have his best friend back. but there was still tension between them. unsaid, they both were under a guilt. Stiles was living with the guilt of harming his pack while Scott was guilty of not being the friend he used to be.

But in that scene, there was someone else too. You. You became their friends when you came new to the school. But your new arrival was overshadowed by Kira’s arrival, the clumsy kitsune who immediately became a big part of the pack. You were brought into this mess when Deaton found a birthmark on your shoulder that looked like Nemeton. You had walked in the animal clinic with your cat for her routine checkup when this happened. Deaton helped find the displaced feeling of belonging in you. He helped you with the research that determined that you were born of Nemeton and that made you a beacon to the supernatural as well. That made you understand why you kept on having strange prophetic visions. They would come to you when you least expected them. But one of those visions saved Allison Argent, the anchor and soulmate of the pack’s alpha.

That’s how you met the pack and that is how you know how Scott and Stiles are feeling towards each other. Something in you wanted to make things right but the distance between the two kept on growing and the anxiety of not being close enough to either of them to talk about this was also not helpful. Soon, Scott had a beta Liam and the distance grew.

Stiles was always there for Scott though and you saw that. Your eyes, involuntarily, would always follow Stiles. You knew that Stiles was deeply into Lydia and now was dating Malia, who was the first one to lend you a friendly hand other than Kira. The girls of the pack had taken you in quicker than the boys which you understood.

But hearing good things about you drew in the boys one by one except Scott who trusted you as soon as you saved Allison. It started with Issac when you helped him get hold of his wolf because he hallucinated that he was trapped in a closed space. It came to you as a surprise when Derek started trusting you after you rushed into his loft and dragged him out before he would blow up along with his house. Liam came to you one day with a little claw problem but you fixed it up by helping him get out of his own head. Even Parrish took a liking to you when you helped him get closer to discovering who he is by providing vital information. It was Stiles who took his sweet time. He had gone through so much so you understood his distance, especially when you were born of the thing that nearly killed him and his friends.

Lydia was the first one to tell you that she knows you have a crush on Stiles. Allison overheard her and now she knows too. The three of you decided not to tell anything to Kira because of her clumsiness. She is more likely to spill secrets than turn into an actual fox which was a high possibility and telling Malia was completely out of the question.

Pack meetings would happen often and being that close to Stiles was getting out of hand. Your brain would fuzz up and your heart won't calm down. Every supernatural in the room probably knows about the raised heartbeat by now. It was Scott who held you back after the meeting. Lydia was waiting for you in her car. “Is everything alright?” Scott asked you worriedly. “Yes I am fine. Nothing is wrong. Everything is ok.” You rambled before stopping yourself.

Stiles walked into the room to talk to Scott and your heart skipped a beat. Scott’s eyes widened and you knew he found out. Before he could say anything, you jumped up and took off without a second glance. You sit in the car with Lydia when you let your mind drift to Stiles. You have always wanted to know what he thought about you. You muster the courage to ask Lydia to do you a little favour. She smirked as if she already saw your question coming and agreed to follow up on it. But you had to meet Stiles, way before you got the answer.

You became the pack historian and researcher along with Stiles. Because of your lack of superpowers except prophetic visions, you weren’t exactly an active member on the field. Stiles, having more experience than you since the beginning of the tale, held a bit of a superiority to you regarding research and history. So you decided to do something about your lack of work. You pulled a few all nighters but finally finished writing the tale of true alpha and his pack with utter detail.

You brought your document with you when you had to work one on one with Stiles. It was last minute really. Till the last moment, you thought Scott and Allison were joining, mostly to help you stay focused. But now, here you are, with a bit of a grumpy Stiles and fuzzed brained you in Stiles’ kitchen. Even his dad had a night shift tonight so it was literally just the two of you.

The papers were scattered all over the counter and all the books you could find on the topic were also all over the counter and dining table. Stiles was standing near his crime board. He looked so hot. Not to be crass but you could not think anymore! Your research abandoned, your eyes roamed all over his body. You did not realize and you are pretty sure nobody else has that Stiles had started growing muscles. His freckles spread across his face and arms made him look like covered in stars. His hair looked so soft and silky, you wanted to run your hands through them. His eyes narrowed in concentration and the crinkle on his forehead made you wish you could kiss it away. His lips, oh dear his lips were so kissable. You could not move on from his lips till you heard him clear his throat.

Stiles was looking at you with raised eyebrows. You stood up from the chair and walked to the kitchen counter. “Here, see this? This is the closest to what we have been looking into. I think this is the direction we should go with.” You point to the chapter in the book and few other printed pages that match your story.

You were so much trying to avoid his eyes that you didn't realize when he stood near you, almost enveloping you into his arms. You were trapped between his arms. His chin almost rested over your shoulder and his chest squishing you against the counter. You suddenly became more aware of the situation. Was he doing this on purpose? Does he like you? Did he know you are in love with him and was teasing you?

You straightened yourself and turned around just to find his lips almost on yours. You look up to see his eyes on your lips. Your thoughts, barely formed, are shattered, when Stiles’ lips meet yours. Your eyes close itself and your lips kiss him back. Your hands make their way to his neck and pull him even closer. His one hand wraps around your waist and the other holds your face. The kiss grew heated, urgent. His hand slipped in your shirt but just to hold you tighter. You finally had the chance to roam your hands in his hair. Your breathing was going ragged and his scent had filled in your heart.

He slowly pulled away and looked right in your eyes. You were looking for questions but he was not going to answer them. The look in his eyes was bright enough to tell you that what happened was a mistake and should never have happened. You pick up your bag and laptop and walk out of the door leaving Stiles standing right where it happened.

You told Lydia, Scott and Allison everything. You knew that Stiles had told Scott about what had happened and you knew that Scott knew what Stiles was feeling. But you did not want to know. Your fear of rejection had taken over you and you left the question at the back of your mind.

Stiles did everything to avoid you. Even in the classroom, he pretended to study. You sighed and dragged yourself through the day. The kiss just won't leave your mind. It gave you tingles, butterflies, hell, the whole zoo was still jumping in you every time you think about it. You confess to yourself that you were aroused. Not that it was shocking since thinking of Stiles was usually your way to enjoy yourself. You did research on your own and forwarded your findings to Scott.

Lydia tried to talk to you about Stiles but you cut her off and told her you were not in the mood. Two weeks had passed since the kiss and every time you saw Stiles, he avoided you very obviously. Scott would always look at you apologetically before running off after Stiles. The pack divided itself into two. Malia was also nowhere to be seen. You wanted to talk to her. You wanted her to know that stealing Stiles was never your intention. You talked to Kira as well. She understood why you did not tell her and forgave you. Allison, Lydia and Kira arranged an intervention for Malia to get her to talk to you. Malia would not say anything. She lets you finish talking for the first time before jumping to conclusion. Once you were done, she sighed and held your hand. She told you that she had broken up with Stiles way before any of this happened. Stiles had grown distant and the pack took up so much of their time, that a breakup made much more sense. She told you she figured you liked him but did not say anything till you told her yourself. It seemed that things were healing around you.

Scott had run out of patience. He wanted Stiles to not mop around and so he gathered the rest of the pack and ran a plan. He trapped you and Stiles in Derek’s loft. Derek was against it but then again, he wasn't exactly around to oppose. Scott told you that this is an important pack meeting and this time you cannot avoid Stiles. You said yes. You showed up only to have the loft door locked behind you. You look around to find Stiles sitting on the sofa with his head in his hands.

You walk up to him and ask him if he is alright. He looks up and you see tired eyes. Worry take over you and sit next to him with your hand on his back, caressing him. “Are you alright? You need to sleep, Stiles.” Your soft voice makes Stiles look at you. “Why, Y/N?” he whispered. “Why what?” His question confused you. “Why did you let me kiss you? Why did that kiss leave me senseless? Why do I trust you even though I don't want to? Why?” Stiles’ questions stumped you.

“I cannot answer any of those questions but one. I let you kiss me because I wanted you to.” You gulped. It was time to tell him how you felt and you were not going to hold back today. “I let you kiss me because I am in love with you.” You move away from Stiles, ready for rejection.

You feel his hand on your wrist and before you know, he pulls you on him. His head rests on the armrest of the sofa and your face lands very close to his face. He wraps his arms around you and traps you on him. Your eyes widen. You don't know what has gotten over Stiles. He lifts his head and brushes his lips against yours. You capture his lips and hold his face. You lay his head on the armrest and this time, you control the pace.

The kiss was slow, soft. Stiles put his hand in your hair, angling you towards more passion. His other arm lifts your shirt and snakes his arm around your exposed waist. The kiss got more urgent but you wanted to hear Stiles say that he at least liked you. But Stiles’ kiss would not let you. He moved his lips from your lips to your neck. Your moans fill up the empty loft. He nibbles your neck, trying to leave a mark. You run your hand through his hair and your moans vibrate in his ears. Satisfied, he kisses your cheek and lifts your face to look you in the eye.

“I do like you. It might take me time to reach love but I would like to be your boyfriend. I really do like you.” He sits up with you still on his lap. He leans his forehead on yours and kisses the tip of your nose.

“Maybe this is why you trust me?” You brush his hair in place. His hands in your hair, detangling them. His soft gaze is on her. He cannot believe he was ignoring his feelings all this time.

He saw the pack trust you but the Nogitsune had messed him up. He wanted to talk to you but the pack was always near you and then he started dating Malia, just because. Maybe he wanted her attention. He got jealous seeing her talking to other pack members. It made him question if he was good enough for her. He had lost opportunities. Malia breaking up with him was probably the best thing that happened to him. The night they had to research together, he was thrilled. He pretended to stare at the crime board longer than necessary when he saw you staring at him. He liked how it made him feel. He couldn't hold himself back. He had to kiss you and he did. It felt like a relief, like he could finally breathe. And now, after a long time agonizing, thanks to Scott, he was able to kiss her again and tell her he wanted to be with her.

[greer2301]

Theo Raeken X Liam Dunbar X Fem Reader

MDNI!

Thiam X Human fem reader

You're beautiful. Pale ivory skin, blushed cheeks, plump build, wonderful green eyes, unfortunately for them you're also beautifully human.

Theo and Liam watched as you hung, a battery hooked up to your body delivering shock after shock from the turning hand of Gerard Argent. Your body soaked and shivering or maybe you shook from convulsions, truthfully they couldn't tell as they wolfed out and tried to help you attacking every warm body near by. The fighting only stopped when Scott arrived, accidentally killing the old hunter as Liam and Theo helped you down.

A trip to the hospital to see Melissa, a check up from Deaton and you were finally home wrapped up in Liam's spare lacrosse joggers and one of Theo's sweaters. Criminal Minds played on the TV for noise as you just rested your head on the arm of the couch, the only sound other than that was your cat messing around with his catnip mouse.  Liam sat beside you first, his hands gently massaging your thighs as he wasn't quite sure what to say yet. Theo followed sitting next to the couch playing with your hair hanging over the edge, you knew what was coming.

They've told you, Scott and Stiles have told you. Hell you've even thought it a few times, humans shouldn't get mixed up with the supernatural business here in Beacon Hills. You couldn't help it tho, the second you laid eyes on the beautiful blue eyed explosive Beta you fell hook line and sinker. You only dug a deeper hole for yourself when you and Liam fell for Theo, the way he protects yous and takes you both seriously even when you sound off your rocker with theories. When anyone would speak out about the relationship your defense had always been, making a point that Stiles has been involved since day one and no one has pushed him away.

"I know, I know what you're thinking. I don't care what you're going to try and reason with, or how bad you want to fight me on it. I love you both. I do not care what I have to fight to keep loving you, I know what I feel for you is worth everything because I will only feel it once in my life. So, no we aren't breaking up, and I won't be going anywhere and if you want to fight about it fight with each other because I won't even entertain it." You tell them, not bothering to look at them as you feel both of them tense and then look to each other. "Sugar, things aren't going to get any easier" Theo says as he rests his head on the cushion.

"Nothing worth having is easy Theodoré" with that you stand and walk into the bedroom, resuming the show in there tucked under the big black duvet. After some time Theo comes in and lays beside you, his hand trailing over the blanket and resting over your hip. Liam comes in after and turns you over to your side so he can lay behind you and be the big spoon, his body heat warming up the underneath of the blanket making you slightly drowsy. "You want to know why we work?" You ask, your voice just above a whisper. "Why do you think?" Liam asks as he rests his head on your shoulder. "Theo would kill for us, I would be killed for us and you, you always save us but you would live for us." You whisper as you look between them.

Liam breaks first, he grabs your chin turning your face to kiss you, his hands pulling your waist closer as he sticks his tongue past your lips wrapping his around your own. Theo kisses your exposed neck, Liam's fingers work your nipples through the light sweater you stole from Theo. Your moans are being swallowed by Liam as he dominates your mouth, your fingers curling in Theo's hair as he sucks his mark into your unmarked ivory skin. Liam removes his mouth from yours turning you to Theo as he starts peppering your neck with kisses, smirking as Theo swallows your moan as he found your sweet spot. His hands trailing from the back of your shoulder to your covered ass as he works over your cheeks.

You can't help it as you rutt your hips back into him, his hardening length causing your already wet pussy to drool. Liam groans as you push back harder becoming more needy for his cock, Theo doesn't bother to swallow your moans anymore as he focuses on rubbing your clit having snuck his hand into your pants. Liam reaches back into the drawer of the bedside table and takes out the finger condoms, actual condoms and numbing-cooling lube. He pushes down your pants and puts his covered prepped fingers on your hole massaging it at first.

Theo's fingers skillfully manipulate your clit as he finger fucks you, keeping you on your side by the arm that's under your head, your eyes closed in pleasure as your jaw slackens with the pace Theo keeps your moans leaving you almost breathlessly. Liam kisses your neck before pushing one finger in, your moans only increase as you enjoy the feeling of being fuller. Liam waits a minute before adding his second finger and scissoring them to help stretch you out, between Theo's fingers fucking in and out of you and Liam's prepping you needed to cum. Theo felt it, loving the way your pussy pulsated and contracted around his digits. "Mmm-mm, not yet baby" Theo tells you, his face beside your ear peppering kisses just below as he admires your fuck face.

Liam adds his third finger and you nearly lose it, your pussy gushes more slick as you fight back your orgasm your stomach muscles contracting as your body shakes, the feeling of being completely full nearly too much to bear. Liam kisses your back along your spine tattoo, loving the way you shake against them, disposing of the finger condoms Liam places the actual condom on his cock, Theo moves you to lean with your back against the pillows propped up a little. "Come on pretty girl, cum for us" Liam whispers in your ear as he manipulates your nipples, Theo's fingers quickly thrusting into you and your juices squelching as your pussy weeps. You shake as your body listens to their command, the ball snapping off the tether as your body creams and leaks more slick.

Liam moans just from watching, scooping your cream with a finger and sucking it off with another moan. Theo smirks, diving face first into your pussy licking from your opening to your clit letting out a moan that vibrates your core making you gasp. Theo sucks and licks your cum until it's gone, small tears have formed at the corners of your eyes and your body convulses. Liam watches with hungry eyes his hand stroking his hard length as you let out nearly chocked sobbed moans, leaning over your side he claims your lips as Theo finishes his work on your pretty pussy. "You taste so fucking good baby" Theo praises as he comes back up for air.

Liam helps you get into position, one all of you enjoy as you're on your knees on a hard pillow between them. Theo aligns himself with your hole as Liam kisses your shoulder and does the same to your rear, Theo can't help but smirk at the barley functional fucked out look on your face, Liam having seen it when Theo's face was between your legs was something Liam will have ingrained in his brain forever. Theo kissed you as he and Liam began sliding into your holes, your body feeling unbelievably full as their lengths bottom out pulling a loud moan from your parted lips as Theo lets his head fall back with a groan. Liam sighs as he rests his head between your shoulder blades pressing light kisses to your tacky damp skin. Their hands holding each others while on your hips holding you in place, their pace slow as we all get used to the position.

You pull Theo's mouth to yours with one hand passionately kissing him as you fight back moans, your other hand found a home in Liam's hair as he peppered kisses along your back, soft moans leaving his mouth as he looks to the mirror on the wall across from the bed watching his boyfriend fuck their girlfriend while he fucks her cute little ass, it was almost enough for him to cum right there.

Theo turns your head back and you bring Liam's head forward connecting your lips aggressively, moans leaving both of your mouths as your teeth clash together and Theo kisses your chest while they pick up speed. Your hands leave their bodies to play with your nipples, their hands gravitating to touch each other as your peak becomes closer again.

"S'close" you whimper out your neck slack and head leant back against Liam's shoulder as Liam and Theo make out passionately beside your face adding to the incoming climax, Liam's hand trails down your body to your clit rubbing circles as he and Theo place kisses to the closest skin they could reach as your body tenses. "Cum with us baby" Liam whimpers as he speeds up, Theo moans as you clench around him Liam's throaty moan pushes both of you over the edge as yous cum together and Liam shoots into the condom. Theo's thick hot cum painting your pretty pink walls as your juices coat his cock and your cream creates a ring at the base of his length.

They hold you tight to them as they pull out a whimper leaving your mouth as Liam places you onto the bed and discards the condom coming back with two wet wipes, he hands Theo one and uses the other to clean up the mess between your thighs and your bum. Liam kisses your cheek and places Theo's sweater back on you properly before tucking you in, he hands Theo clean boxers and puts on a pair himself before crawling in bed behind you holding you close, Theo kisses Liam's cheek before crawling in bed in front of you and slinging an arm over you and Liam pulling the string on the lamp to shut the light off before getting under the blanket.

[topazy]

Blood moon

Pairing: Scott McCall x reader

Warnings: Swearing, smut

Chapter: 7.02

You step into the kitchen and drop the glass of orange juice from your hand as you jump backwards, startled by the figure leaning against the island in the middle of the room. So much for werewolf reflexes. Since the sleepover Wyatt was at got canceled, you had awkwardly suggested everyone regrouped at another location. As much as you cared for Lydia, you didn’t want your son near anything that was going on.

“Jesus McCall, haven’t you ever heard of knocking?” You huff, looking down at the sticky liquid spreading fast across the floor. You grab a handful of kitchen rolls and dab at it before the juice runs onto your cream carpet in the next room.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to- Sorry. I just wanted to see if you were okay,” Scott said. He sighed, noticing you were avoiding his gaze. “Are you okay?”

“I'm fine.”

Scott puffed out his cheeks, feeling defeated already. “I don’t usually ask when it comes to you and Isaac, but what’s going on? He left kind of abruptly.”

You re-enter the living room fidgeting with the silver band on your middle finger, the pad of your thumb feeling the small rubies on it. “Guys, I hate to do this, but Wyatt’s coming home, and I don’t want him around... whatever this is.”

Scott looks up at your alarm. “Why, what’s wrong?”

“He’s fine; his friend's mom just texted and said one of the kids started vomiting, so everyone’s gotta go.”

Isaac yanks his jacket from the back of the coat hanger. “I’ll go get him. Take him to the arcade or cinema.”

“He still needs to have his dinner.”

“Then I’ll take him for pizza first,” Isaac slams the front door behind him when he leaves the house.

You cock your head to the side, looking up at Scott, still irritated by your brother. “He’s just... he's got an issue with his girlfriend. Where did everyone else go?”

“The animal clinic.”

After all this time, no matter what changed throughout the years, Deaton’s vets was the safe place you and your friends gravitate towards whenever times are tough. A small smile creeps onto your face as you think about the times as teenagers when your pack would gather in the same place.

“What’s so funny?”

“I was just thinking how, after all this time, we still go to the same place for help.” You squeeze Scott’s shoulder. “Did I ever tell you I’m proud of you for becoming a vet?”

“Uhh, you have,” he chuckles. “But it means a lot coming from you, no matter how many times I hear it.”

“Are you staying here until Wyatt gets home?”

“Yeah,” he pulls his phone out of his pocket. “I’ll just let Stiles know I’ll catch up with them later.”

—

“Daddy!”

“Hey, little man.”

Smiling, Scott picks Wyatt up and kisses his cheek. “Where did Uncle Isaac take you?”

While your son fills his father in on all the fun games he played at the arcade, Isaac mumbles an apology as he walks by. He places a stuffed toy on the kitchen counter; it looks just like one I had as a girl. “I’m going to be out for the rest of the night,” he says. “I don’t know if you’ve seen it, but Stiles asked if someone who’s werewolf could spend the night in case he needs help with Lydia.”

“It’s probably for the best that someone is there for her. I think Scott was going to meet them at the vets.”

“Actually,” Scott walks over with Wyatt now sitting on his shoulders. “I was going to put this little monster to bed once he has showed me his new toys.”

Scott wasn’t outright asking, but from his tone, you knew it was a question. You smile, although he was a good dad. Scott never got to spend the same amount of time with your son as you did, which made him feel guilty. “Sure, but first he’s going for a bath.”

—

You yawn into the back of your hand, not wanting to interrupt Scott and Wyatt playing before bed. You curled up on the couch to watch a film. You’re starting to doze off when Scott comes back down the stairs and sits next to you, much to your surprise.

“Is he asleep already?”

“Yeah, probably a sugar crash.”

You reposition yourself on the couch so Scott has more space; the thick fluffy grey blanket covering your lap slides down at one side, revealing. Noticing, Scott pulls on the bottom of your nightgown, “cute.”

Your nightgown was light pink, silky, with little stars and moons on it.

“Don’t tease.”

Smirking, Scott lowers his head till your lips meet. At first the kiss is soft and gentle, but it quickly becomes heated. Feeling his hand on your bare thigh, your legs part, and Scott begins rubbing at the most sensitive spot through your underwear.

“Oh,” you slap your hand over your mouth to stop making noise.

Scott kisses your neck while sliding two of his fingers inside you, muffling his own groans. Just as you go to unzip his jeans, you open your eyes and notice the blinds had opened slightly and were now open, and something was outside looking in.

Abruptly, you push Scott’s hand away and jump to your feet. He stares at you alarmed, “Shit, did I hurt you?”

You shake your head, “There’s someone outside.”

“Keep an eye on the doors.” Without needing any further explanation, Scott sprints upstairs and then quickly runs back down with Wyatt in his arms. “Is it still there?”

You do your best to discreetly peek out of the window; at first you don’t see anything, but then you notice there’s a white mask left laying on the grass. “Not that I can see.”

He hands you Wyatt, who was still half asleep. “We gotta run for the car. Once we are inside, call Stiles and tell him we are going to the clinic, then call the police.”

You didn’t have time to ask questions, but something had scared the hell out of Scott as well.

[specialagentlokitty]

Derek hale x Sister!reader - my sister

Hi so this is the request I try to send you before through the inbox. I wanted to know if you could write a Derek Hale x big sister reader where the reader is very very protective like almost overprotective of him ( he could be her anchor )and I wanted to see how the whole pack would react to that because everyone know that Derek can take care of himself and also that he's very strong, they don't really understand why the reader is so protective over him and then someone explain why she so protectives over him ( it could be Chris, Peter, Noah or even Deaton) and that since the fire it got a little bit more worse. Please, I love how you write the siblings bond that I read on your blog. Sorry it's very long - @bakakara666💜

Looking at your little brother come limping into the loft, you pointed to the couch and he sat down, watching as you wondered away.

Everyone else filed in behind Derek, Scott a little injured but nowhere near as bad as Derek was, and they watched as you came back over.

You dragged the coffee table over and sat in front of Derek, taking his arm in yours as you wordlessly tended to his wounds.

“Doesn’t he know how to do that himself…?” Stiles whispered.

“Of course he does idiot.” Peter hissed.

Peter looked at you carefully tending to your brothers wounds and he sighed softly.

“Then why is (Y/N) doing it?” Lydia asked.

You glared at them all, and Peter ushered the into a different part of the loft while you carried on helping your brother.

“What happened?” You asked.

“Hunters, nothing serious don’t worry.”

You nodded your head very slowly, and began to clean the wounds on his other arm.

“How’s your side?” You asked.

“Healing, it should be mostly healed now.” He said.

You nodded again.

Derek looked down at you, your tired eyes focusing carefully on what you were doing and he sighed a little bit.

“You don’t have to do this.” He said.

“Yes I do.”

Derek reached up, grabbing your wrist in his hand and stopped you, forcing you to turn your attention up to him.

“You don’t. It’ll heal.”

“I have to do this Derek.”

You both stared at one another for a few moments before he slowly let go of your wrist, letting you go back to looking after him.

“Are they still alive?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

You tossed everything into a bag and set it aside, standing up, you began to walk towards the door.

“(Y/N) don’t!”

Everyone else came out of the room to see you standing in front of the doors to the loft, yellow eyes fixated on the door.

“(Y/N).” Peter warned.

You glared at him.

“Leave it, they’re not worth it.” Derek said.

You slowly turned around, your yellow eyes staring into his blue ones.

“They hurt you. That’s all the do. Hurt.” You growled.

“And we handled it they’re not coming back. It’s fine.”

Derek walked over and he placed his hand on your shoulder.

“Don’t do it…” he whispered.

Gazing at your brother, you sighed, letting your eyes return to normal as you nodded and walked away to properly clean up.

Derek sighed heavily as he looked at you.

“What would she have done…?” Alison whispered.

“She would’ve ripped every hunter she came across to bits without thinking twice about it.” Derek said.

“So she’s dangerous? Great!” Stiles scoffed.

Derek turned around, grabbing stiles by the shirt and pulled him of his feet a little bit while everyone called for him to stop.

“My sister is not dangerous.” Derek growled.

He dropped stiles, shoving him back a few steps.

“Don’t ever call her that again.”

With that, Derek stormed away and when you noticed you went after him, calling his name.

Stile turned to Peter.

“What the hell is his problem?” Stiles asked.

Peter glared at Stiles.

“He doesn’t have a problem you called his sister, by niece, dangerous of course he’s going to be pissed.”

“Why is (Y/N) so protective of Derek?” Lydia asked.

Peter glanced towards the stairs then gestured to the couch, so everyone went to sit down and he stood in front of them all, arms crossed over his chest.

Upstairs you were sat with Derek, your hand in his as you both just sat silently.

“She’s always been protective of him. Older than him by 5 years, (Y/N) always felt the need to look after Derek. If he fell, she was there, scared, upset, angry she was right there for it all.”

Peter sat down on the table like you did.

“They were incredibly close. After the fire she became more protective, she had lost everyone aside from him.”

Peter glanced to the stairs again before looking at them.

“Derek is protective of her, sure. But she would bring this whole town to its knees if she had to just to keep him safe. (Y/N) can’t loose anymore of her family, it would tear her apart.”

Everyone nodded their heads.

“That’s why she was going to go find those hunters, right?” Scott asked.

“Exactly, she’d have killed them if Derek hadn’t stopped her. He’s the only one who can keep her temper in check, so remember that when you’re trying to get him arrested again.”

You stood up, placing your hand on Derek’s shoulder as you turned around to look at him.

“You’re okay, right?” You asked.

“I’m fine, I promise. Don’t worry about it’s nothing.”

You nodded your head a little and walked over to the window to look outside.

“Next time I’m coming with you.”

Derek glanced at you and said nothing about it because he knew he wasn’t going to be able to stop you.

If you wanted to go you would, and he knew there was absolutely no way that he could stop you from doing it, all he could do was stop you from trying to kill anyone who hurt him

[mysecretlittlelibrary]

New Faces in New Places

Pairing: Derek Hale x Reader

Word Count: 3.3k

Warnings: none really, just run of the mill teen wolf dangers lol

Genre: fluff I'd say

Summary: After a few signs from your familiar you're moving to a new town and you find out very quickly that it is anything but ordinary

***

You cross-reference the address your mom gave you with the building you're currently parked in front of. It looks like the right place but man, moving to a new town is always a hassle.

"We finally made it Ellie. You almost burned down my old apartment to get me here but- we made it. You'll have to wait here though, okay? I know mom trusts this guy but I'm not too eager to bring you into a vet's office for no reason." You say to your bird before you get out of the car. You make sure to leave the windows down because heavens know how long you'll be here. You walk into the office, startled slightly by the sound of the bell over the door. A Black man walks out of the back room wearing a lab coat over his maroon colored button-down. He's bald and has neatly trimmed facial hair.

"Hello. How can I help you?" He asks.

"Hi, Dr. Alan Deaton, I'm guessing?"

"Excuse me, do I know you?"

"Not me. But you do know my mother."

"And who is your mother?" He asks, an eyebrow quirking up at you. You wave a hand over your wrist, exposing your family crest marked into your skin, and show it to him.

"My goodness." He gasps stepping back. He swings open the door by the counter and gestures for you to follow him through the doorway he originally came through. "It's like seeing a ghost. I never thought I'd be seeing that crest again after your mother and I went our separate ways. Wait is she-"

"She's fine. Living her best life in Europe." You say, eyes shifting around the room to take it in as you lean against the metal exam table.

"That's good. What brings you here then?"

"Actually, my familiar. Kind of. She knocked over a candle that burned this spot on a map and when I did some digging, spoke to my mom and she told me it had to be here. Also that I'd find you at this place."

"I wasn't aware your mother still knew where I was but honestly leave it to her to keep track of her associates." He chuckles.

"Yeah, she told me if I was coming to Beacon Hills I had to find you first. So what do I need to know about your little town?" You ask.

"Oh well, we definitely get a lot of strange activity here. Beacon Hills has a nematon."

"Beacon Hills has a nematon?" That gets your attention. You had no idea.

"It was cut down many years ago so it's been dormant for quite some time until recently when a group of teenagers accidentally reactivated it."

"A group of teenagers reactivated a nematon?! What the hell kind of teenagers are running around here?" You blink at him.

"They weren't trying to. They were only trying to track down their parents and stop some human sacrifices."

"And they somehow reactivated a nematon? And they did that accidentally on their own?"

"I didn't know it would reactivate a chopped down tree but we also didn't have many other options at the time."

"So I take it you're quite involved with this group of teenagers?" You ask.

"Their ringleader works for me." He shrugs.

"Their ringleader works for you? So you're the adult to our resident Scooby gang." You laugh.

"What?"

"A Scooby gang is the term I use for a group of teenagers who have a knack for getting into shenanigans they have no business getting into." You shrug.

"Well, you know. Druids are advisors by nature."

"Sure- to supernaturals usually. Is this group of kids supernaturals?"

"Not all of them."

"Not all of them?! Are there a lot of supernatural kids around here?"

"Relatively?"

"What does that mean-?" You shake your head.

"Deaton! We need your help! It's Isaac- something's wrong he's not healing!" The frantic yelling along with loud movement from the front of the office turns your attention from Deaton to the doorway, your question forgotten as a man with dark hair comes barrelling in with a younger boy behind him carrying another. They all halt at the door when they see you standing there and you're smart enough to pivot so you're standing next to Deaton, out of the way assuming they intend to lay the half-conscious one on the table.

"Well don't just stand there bring him here. What happened?" Deaton asks. The man steps to the side boy carrying the other can lay him on the table.

"Wolfsbane." You say quietly, immediately picking up its signature with a magical scan of the boy.

"What?" Deaton's gaze snaps to you.

"It's Wolfsbane, we have to get it out of his system if you want him to heal himself. Do you know what kind? How it got in his system?"

"Does that matter?" The man asks staring at you from across the exam table.

"Kind of. All of that stuff affects potency and subsequently the best solution to-"

"Y/n." Deaton says gently.

"He's a bit old for your Scooby gang but I take it he's part of it?"

"I should've prefaced. They aren't all teenagers."

"Noted. But he is. And he's dying." Your gaze shoots down to the kid on the table again. "How do you want to go about this?" You ask crossing your arms.

"Can you tell me if it's yellow wolfsbane?" He asks.

"It's not." You say after a moment of your eyes flitting across the gash in his side.

"Good. So we can burn it out of him."

"You're going to induce a fever?" You ask and Deaton shakes his head.

"He's bleeding too much too fast. You'll have to burn it out."

"Me?" You blink at him.

"You know how to right?"

"Of course I do." You say.

"Well I don't keep a torch in the office so yes you'll have to do it." Deaton nods. You hardly notice the other two watching your conversation like it's a tennis match, both sets of eyes darting back and forth between you as you talk quickly with Deaton.

"Very well." You sigh rotating your neck and cracking your knuckles in preparation. You grasp the young boy's hand.

"What is she doing?" The man asks, almost growling as he shoots a glare.

"Saving Isaac's life. Back down Derek. You came here for help." Deaton says.

"Hi, Isaac. My name's y/n. I'm gonna do my best to make it quick but this is gonna be uncomfortable for a little while so- feel free to scream or break my hand." You say gently to the boy on the table, Isaac you presume, before closing your eyes. When they open again your irises are literal flames that shock the two people watching you carefully as their friend's life is in your hands. Isaac groans, his back arching off the table and his fingers squeezing around your hand with a strength that would probably crush it if he wasn't currently bleeding out on the table. It takes longer than you expect, seeking out and burning the wolfsbane coursing through his blood, but after a few minutes his blood starts to boil and you know there's no more of the deadly plant in his system. You close out your spell and wait for his grip to loosen before releasing his hand.

"I think you should wrap that gash. He's clear now but- there's no way of knowing when his healing will kick in." You tell Deaton. Deaton nods and grabs a gauze pad and medical tape.

"He'll be okay?" The other teenager looks at you and Deaton.

"Yeah he'll be fine." Deaton nods.

"What are you?" The teenager looks at you curiously.

"Who are you?" The man asks, his gaze is still skeptical but much less hostile, there's something in his eyes that you can't quite identify. Akin to awe but not quite.

"Scott, Derek, this is y/n. She's new in town. Y/n, this is Scott McCall and Derek Hale."

"Members of your Scooby gang." You say.

"Why do you keep saying that?" Derek asks.

"Before you walked in here Deaton was telling me about a particularly atypical group of teenagers that had a knack for getting into shenanigans."

"I'm not a teenager." Derek says.

"You haven't already met Stiles have you?" Scott asks. You turn to Deaton with a confused look on your face.

"Scott's best friend. Shenanigan might as well be his middle name. He's quite the erratic kid." Deaton explains.

"Ah- well, no. You, four are my intro to Beacon Hills." You say. Isaac groans as his eyes finally start to open. His half-lidded gaze turns to you and his brows furrow as he tries to identify the stranger in the room.

"You saved me." He mutters. "Are you an angel?" He asks suspiciously making you giggle at the question.

"No sweetie. In fact, some people would call me the opposite."

"Y/n don't freak him out." Deaton chuckles.

"No angel, just a witch. But welcome back. Whoever did this knicked you real good." You tell him with a soft smile and gentle squeeze of his arm.

"Well- thank you." Isaac says.

"A witch?" Scott blinks at you.

"Yep. I don't understand how this kid got wolfsbane poisoning. Are there hunters in Beacon Hills?" You frown at Deaton.

"Sometimes." Deaton says.

"One of them's an ally now though. He helps us a lot." Scott says.

"Hunters and werewolves working together. This is one interesting little town." You muse.

"You'll get used to it pretty quick." Deaton chuckles.

"Oh I'm sure. I'd hang around but Ellie will start to get antsy if she doesn't get out of her carrier soon so I have to find my house. I'll be in touch Deaton. I have a feeling this conversation is far from over." You say.

"You can call me when you get settled if you have any immediate questions. Or swing by later." Deaton says writing his number on the back of a card.

"You rest up Isaac at least a few hours before you do anything strenuous. And watch that gash, if it doesn't start healing within the hour come back to Deaton. And I assume you two will look after him. Nice to meet you all." You say to the trio of wolves before taking the card from Deaton and leaving the office. You don't notice the way Derek's eyes follow you but Deaton does, and he has to make a conscious effort to stifle his smile.

A week later and you're mostly settled into your new home. Ellie is also pretty well acquainted with her new space, which is great because she can be quite particular.

"Something interesting out there Ellie?" You ask when your bird perches by the window, staring outside as intently as a bird can. Her wings flutter fiercely for a moment and she attempts to pry open the window with her beak. You quickly stand from your couch and whistle at her, tapping your finger to guide her over.

"I take it we have to be somewhere? Now when I take you out there wait for me to get on my bike before you start rushing off to whatever danger you're chasing." You warn her as you put on your shoes. She coos at you with her head tilted slightly and you roll your eyes before leaving your apartment. Outside you barely manage to get the bike running before Ellie flies off down a street.

"Dammit Ellie." You huff, speeding after her on your bike, looking up every so often to check her flight path. She eventually perches on a perches on a light by a warehouse and you take off your helmet ready to curse her for being so frantic but the sound of voices inside grabs your attention.

"I told you not to rush off you silly bird." You hiss at her when she flies down to sit on your shoulder as you approach the door curiously. You can see two people standing to the side but ready to jump in along with three, no four, people circling each other and you can hear growling, which is cleared up when one of the faces is revealed to be Scott from Deaton's office. You've had a couple more conversations with Deaton since your first one and have since learned that Scott is the ringleader he'd mentioned that first day and that he's got a whole bunch of supernatural friends. You whistle loudly enough to get everyone's attention and six pairs of eyes snap to you. You recognize Isaac in the bunch too. The two other guys they were growling at don't match any of the descriptions Deaton's given you so, process of elimination tells you the other two people looking at you must be Stiles and Lydia.

"Whatever you think you saw, you didn't we were just teens doing- teen goof things." Stiles, you're pretty sure, frantically says.

"You know Stiles I'd have expected a better excuse from you." You say. "That is Stiles right?" You ask Scott. He and Isaac nod which causes Stiles to look frantically between the three of you.

"How do you know my name?! And you two know her? Why don't I know her? Who are you?" Stiles asks.

"I'm gonna ask that you hold all questions briefly." You tell Stiles before turning your attention to the two unidentified individuals who still look to be on guard. "You two, I'm guessing, do not belong here." You address them only to be met with a growl that you immediately counter with a command. "Ciúin." You say sharply and their aggression dwindles. "I suggest you both return to where you belong of your own free will while you can. This territory is not up for grabs." You say sternly, flashing your magic in warning. The boys glare at you as if they are planning to challenge your demand but neither seems willing to take the risk when they meet your warning gaze. After a stretch of silence, they let out another growl at Scott and Isaac before leaving.

"We totally could've taken them." Isaac huffs.

"What did you do?" Scott asks.

"Nothing really just- a scare tactic I learned some years ago." You shrug.

"Well thank you." He nods.

"Can I ask my questions now?" Stiles asks.

"Stiles, Lydia, this is y/n. She's new to Beacon Hills." Scott says to his friends.

"So how do you already know her?" Stiles asks.

"She knows Deaton. And, she saved Isaac's life." Scott says.

"Yeah." Isaac nods. "Hi again." He says to you with a shy smile.

"Hi, Isaac. You look much better than the last time I saw you." You return his smile with one of your own when he straightens up at your attention.

"So do you! I- I mean, now that I'm not like half-conscious or whatever." He says awkwardly shifting his gaze from you.

"Hey, how did you even know we'd be here?" Scott asks you.

"Ellie." You say lifting your shoulder slightly to show off the bird still perched there contently. "She flew right to you." You add, handing her a treat you conjured.

"That's a pigeon." Stiles says.

"She's my familiar." You correct him.

"You have a familiar?" Lydia asks.

"Correct." You nod.

"What does that mean? Is she not human?" Stiles asks Lydia.

"I'm a witch. Think druid but cooler." You wink at him. "Don't tell Deaton I said that." You add in a stage whisper that makes the others laugh.

"So is that how you knew my name?" Stiles asks.

"No. Deaton's just been giving me the 411 on everyone I need to know about so I made a guess based on the names and descriptions I have." You say.

"Scott we've gotta have a talk man. When you meet people who might be of significance like witches you're supposed to tell me!" Stiles says.

"I figured you'd meet her yourself soon enough." Scott shrugs.

"Before this continues- because I'm sure it will. What were those guys doing here anyway?" You ask interrupting the couple's quarrel that's about to start.

"They were- sending a message." Isaac says.

"A message? To whom?" You frown.

"Scott. Looks like word's gotten around that he's an alpha."

"It's a good thing you showed up when you did because I had a really bad feeling about them fighting." Lydia mutters.

"I guess Ellie's taken a liking to you all. She's the one who sensed there was trouble."

"Thank you Ellie." Scott says nodding at your bird.

"You all should get out of here and head home before any more trouble comes looking for you." You say.

"Will you be alright getting home?" Isaac asks you.

"I should be asking you all that." You chuckle.

"Stiles will drive us." Scott tells you.

"So?" Isaac prompts.

"I appreciate the concern hon but I am an adult, with enough magical power to level a city. I'll be fine on my bike." You laugh. "Now you guys get going." Everyone starts to move towards the door except Stiles, who starts to object when he sees his friends leaving.

"Hang on now just because you stopped a fight doesn't mean you can- woah woah hang on!" Stiles loses his train of thought as Scott drags him towards the warehouse entrance and you chuckle.

"Come on man don't be an ass." Scott mutters to his friend.

"I just want you to know I have more questions for you that I will be asking at a later date!" Stiles calls to you even as he's being removed.

"Deaton has my address! Have him give it to you and you can come by and ask as many questions as you want!" You shout after him.

"I will do exactly that!" He points just before the group exits and you laugh to yourself in the empty warehouse.

"You brought me across the country to protect this group of teenagers?" You ask Ellie. "I hope you know we'll have no more peace." You scoff at her before the two of you leave the warehouse yourselves.

A few hours later a knock on your door pulls you away from the movie you're watching. You place your mug of hot chocolate on the table before walking over to your front door and checking the spyhole to find Derek on your porch.

"Derek?! What are you doing here?" You ask with a frown. You haven't seen him since you met last week and quite frankly you weren't sure you would. He seemed rather apprehensive around you all in all.

"I- heard you helped the kids out of a jam earlier. I wanted to thank you." He says.

"Oh- no need. They probably could've sorted it out themselves honestly but Ellie really felt we had to step in."

"Ellie?"

"My bird, familiar."

"Familiar- that's right, you're a witch."

"I am indeed." You chuckle. "You- said you came here to thank me? I don't want you to feel like you have to do-"

"Oh I don't! Didn't. I'm not here out of obligation I wanted to come. It's not every day someone as pretty as you moves to Beacon Hills."

"Are you flirting with me Derek Hale?" You ask, surprised at his direct line.

"Depends on if it's working." He says.

"Are you here to ask me on a date or not Derek?" You ask. There's a moment of silence before he replies.

"Will you go on a date with me?" He asks.

"I would love to." You smile at him.

"I've been trying to work up the courage to ask you that all week." Derek breathes out.

"How cute. Do you have a phone?"

"Of course I do."

"Do you have it with you?" He hands you the device eagerly and you input your number for him. "You can call me when you've figured out the details." You say handing it back to him. "Okay?" You prompt when all he does is give you a goofy smile.

"Okay." He says still giving you a pleased look that makes you want to laugh at how cute he is. You jolt suddenly when your own phone rings on your coffee table.

"Oh shoot- one second." You say rushing to grab it. Unknown number. "Hello?" You answer walking back over to your front door where Derek has his phone pressed to his ear, looking at you cheekily as he speaks and his voice comes through your device.

"I'll pick you up at 7:30 on Friday?" He asks and you laugh before you give him an answer.

"Didn't realize you already had a plan."

"Oh, I've been planning all week. If you said yes I wanted to be ready."

"Then I will see you Friday. For now, you should go home, looks like it's going to rain." You say noticing the clouds obscuring the usually starry night sky. Derek looks up as if he didn't even realize.

"Right. I'll see you Friday." He says with one last smile before he takes off. You smile to yourself as you return to your movie and hot chocolate. Friday just can't come soon enough. Maybe moving to Beacon Hills was a more perfect idea than you gave Ellie credit for.

***

[in-act-ive]

Theo Raeken x GN/NB!human!reader

Request : nope

Type : headcanon

A / N : Theo Raeken x a reader who is OBSESSED with his werecreature-ness because i have so many cute ideas

When Theo and you started dating he didn't tell you

He didn't want to hurt you

When you found out through your own terms he was scared you'd leave him for a human who wouldn't hurt you

You let him know you loved him for him and nothing coulf change that

" Not even the fact im a murderer? " " Nope. "

The first time he shows you his cool glowing eyes you're sitting on his lap

You cup his face with your hands and look at them

Taking in every detail you can

He esplains what the different colors mean and you wrote it down

You have a dedicated notebook to all of the werewolf stuff

When he tells you about how he got his powers you immediately feel bad and promise to protect him

He knows its more of him protecting you

The first time you see his fangs you immediately force his mouth open so you can look at them and draw them

The moment he tastes the medal taste of blood he realizes you've cut yourself on his teeth but you don't seem to worried by it at all

He maks sure to bandage your hands and he scolds you not to do it again

The first time you see his claws you are immediately in love with how pretty they are

You've probably painted them once or twice and he finds it hilarious

The first time Theo accidentally hurts you he feels so horrible but you're too focused on making sure what he did wont turn you

He reassures you that he's not an alpha do he can't turn you

Theo knows you want to stay human so he keeps you safe from danger to ensure nobody has to bite you to save your life

He doesn't want another Liam incident...

When he finds you in pain he immediately takes your pain even when you protest

He loves you too much to see you in pain

He tries to keep you shielded form all the mythical stuff but fails

You always manage to snake your way into places you shouldn't be in

Theo finally lets you talk to Deaton and you become the packs babysitter

You mainly make sure nobody's biting random kids and that they're taking care of themselves

It makes you be involved in everything but Theo knows it makes you happy using your skills and your special notebook to help others

Derek practically drags you into his pack against Theo's will

You end up happy and you stay human

Theo knows your safer with Derek than you would be with Scott and he appreciates it

Note: This was not spell checked nor grammer checked! I apologize in advance for the mistakes

[hawkeyetrained]

You Can Trust Me

Derek Hale x Fem!reader

Other Characters: Kate Argent, Scott, Malia, Stiles (mentioned), Lydia (mentioned), Braeden (mentioned)

Warnings: slight spoilers for s4ep1&2, cannon level violence (though nothing too graphic at all)

Summary: When Derek gets turned back into his younger self, she promises he can trust her.

Word count: 2594

Scott, Stiles, and I had been friends for as long as I could remember. I moved into town when I was just 10 years old, instantly becoming friends with the two. That’s how I met Derek Hale, and how our crazy involvement with the supernatural began.

Derek and I had a different relationship than the rest of the pack. He would often keep me in the loft if the current threat ever got too close, opting to have Peter stay back and keep an eye on me instead of allowing me to help like Stiles. For the last few years, the crush I had on Derek only grew stronger and Lydia was the first to call me out on it. When we were sitting in the loft for one of our pack meetings, she had noticed how I tuned Scott out as he talked but instantly focused on Derek when he spoke. She had nudged my side, making my cheeks burn pink, and later took me out for dinner to talk about what she saw.

We talked at the diner for more than two hours about my crush, going into detail on everything that she could get from me. I had her sworn to secrecy to not tell anyone for fear that he would completely reject me.

So, while broken down on the side of a road in Mexico, she had stuck to my side in an attempt to keep me calm. Stiles was busy fixing his Jeep, Malia and Kira keeping watch on the sand around us, while Lydia and I tried to attempt helping Stiles. Scott had gone off with a woman named Brayden in search of Derek, promising to be back by morning.

I spent the night sitting on the ground by the front tire of Roscoe, Stiles’ jeep. Lydia kept sending glances my way all night, but I ignored her until I was able to see the motorcycle coming back down the road just after sunrise.

Scott had jumped off to grab my arms, pulling me off to the side. “Hey, he’s alright, but something happened in that church. Derek, he’s different.”

“What do you mean?” I tried pulling away only for Scott to stop me. “What happened?”

“I don’t know what happened.” Scott shrugged. “Something changed him, made him younger.”

I spent the entire ride home in the back of Stiles’ jeep, worrying over Derek and wondering why he wasn’t waking up. Once we got back, we went to Deaton’s office first. Scott had called ahead, letting the doctor know about our situation and to see if there was anything he could do to help. Once we got Derek inside and laid on the exam table, everyone watched as Deaton worked for a few minutes on checking for anything unusual, and once coming up empty handed, he sent everyone home for school in a few hours.

“Someone should stay here with him.” Scott mumbled to the group as we turned to leave.

“I think it should be Y/N.” Lydia said, stopping in her tracks.

“What?” I looked up at her. “Why me?” My cheeks were stained a soft pink.

“Out of all of us, you and Derek were closest. And he trusts you the most.” She explained. “When he wakes up, I’m sure he’s going to be confused. You’ll be the only face he’d want to see.” Everyone seemed to agree with her, so they headed out to gather their things for school while I went back into the exam room to join Deaton.

It seemed like hours passed since my friends had left. Deaton had continued to check on Derek when he needed breaks from his paperwork in his office. I had sat myself down in one of the plastic chairs, pulled up beside the table, my arms crossed on the metal surface with my head resting on them. My phone would occasionally go off with a text message, one of the pack members checking in, but there was never much to say other than a finger twitch or a deeper breath than I had been listening to all day.

Deaton had come back in yet again to check on Derek, but this time, the young wolf’s eyes snapped open, his body launching up into a seated position. The doctor had been fast enough to grab my arms and yank me back before I was swiped at by a clawed hand. The boy’s eyes softened ever so slightly when he got a look at our faces and heard our racing heartbeats, but it wasn’t long before he was running out of the clinic.

Stiles and Scott were able to get Derek from the police station hours after he ran from the clinic, the three of us headed towards Scott’s house. Scott’s phone buzzed in his pocked and he told us how he had to go take care of something, leaving Stiles and I alone with Derek.

Derek had seemed apprehensive about following Stiles into the McCall house, but a soft smile and a few encouraging words from me and helped him follow us inside. “Scott?” An older male’s voice called from the kitchen.

Stiles and I shared a worried look, and before we could turn around and get out, Scott’s father showed up in the doorway with a paper bag held in his hand. “Um, hi.” I greeted, offering a slightly awkward wave.

“Stiles. Y/N.” Mr. McCall nodded to us. “Who’s your friend?”

My eyes flashed to Derek, trying to think of a believable excuse. “He’s my cousin.” Stiles blurted out, wrapping an arm around Derek’s shoulders. “My cousin Miguel.” Both Derek and I looked to Stiles to see if he was serious or not, and to our horror, he was completely serious.

We were all quickly pulled into the worst dinner of our lives. Scotts father continuously asked Derek questions, obviously seeing right through Stiles’s lie, but Derek was able to play along. I ate a little food before excusing myself and heading up to Scott’s room, wanting to call him and warn him of his father being home.

I barely managed to send the text before the door was being pushed open. “Y/N?” I recognized Derek’s voice as he called out, not wanting to startle me.

“Yeah, come in.” I smiled at the Hale boy, sliding my phone into my back pocket, and sitting down on Scott’s bed. “How are you holding up?” I asked him as he sat down beside me, leaving more space than usual between us.

Derek shrugged. “It’s all so confusing.”

“Is there anything I can try to help with?” I asked.

He shrugged his shoulders again. “I don’t even know what to ask. I mean, you three look at me like you know who I am, but I’ve got no idea who you are.”

A deep sigh left my nose as I adjusted, pulling my legs up under me and turning to face him. “You’re Derek Hale. You’ve helped us through a lot recently, taught all of us a lot of things about the supernatural world.” His dark eyes lifted up to watch me. “You’ve saved all of us too many times to count. It’s been a hard few years for all of us.”

“If I’m going to be honest, I’m a little scared.” His voice dropped to a whisper, almost like he didn’t want anyone hearing his confession. “I woke up in a strange place, surrounded by strange people, in a city that doesn’t even have my home, and no one will tell me what happened. I don’t know who to trust.”

My fingers twitched together nervously. “I know how scary that must be, but I can tell you one thing. You can trust me. It’s gotta be weird having people know you without you knowing them, but we are actually really good friends. You’ve watched out for me since we met. Let me help watch out for you until we can figure out how to help you.”

“I can trust you.” He didn’t phrase it as a question, more so a way for himself to finally believe it.

The window creaked from behind Derek, alerting both of us. Derek’s arm had crossed protectively over me as he turned to look for the cause of the sound, something he did normally that was showing through his younger self. “Kate?” Derek’s eyes adjusted to the dark of the night faster than mine, but I was able to see her climbing through the window.

“Hey, handsome.” She greeted with a smile. “Been a long time.” Right, Peter killed her, or so we had thought. “Longer than you think.” Her eyes flashed back to me as both Derek and I stood from the bed, my feet automatically drifting closer to Derek’s side. “Aww, little Y/N, still playing shadow?” She taunted, a sick smile on her face before she came closer.

Derek didn’t tense up like he typically does. Instead, he stayed pretty relaxed, making me think that younger Derek had known Kate better than I thought he did. “Derek.” I shrunk closer to him as she got closer to me, not trusting Kate at all after what Peter had done to her.

His hand flexed at his side a little, like he wanted to do something but couldn’t think of why or what to do. “Still scared hun?” Kate stalked closer, ultimately putting herself between Derek and me. “He doesn’t even know you sweetheart.” As she continued to draw closer and closer in the dark room, I had taken steps back, trying to keep as much space between her and I as I could. “He knows me. He can trust me.” My heart started to race, images of her clawed hand swiping at my throat flashing through my head, eyes frantically flickering between her and Derek as I backed up.

In a blur, one of her hands had enclosed around my throat, holding me still and putting just enough pressure to where I was uncomfortable. “Kate, please. Let me go.” My hands reached up to try prying at her fingers, but I was no match for her newfound strength.

“Kate.” Derek’s voice growled out from behind her in a warning. “Let her go.”

A sick smile crossed her face. “If you say so.” Her hand slipped from my throat and just a second after my eyes met Derek’s, she had kicked her boot into my chest and send me stumbling back into Scott’s adjoining bathroom. The door slammed shut and I could hear something being pressed against the outside of the door.

“No.” I scrambled into my knees. “Derek!” I call, banging on the door. “Kate, let me out.” I could hear muffled voices of her and Derek going back and forth, a little worry in the boy’s voice as he said my name. “Derek don’t listen to her. Don’t go anywhere with her. You can’t trust her.”

Minutes of silence passed by before whatever was leaned against the door was pulled away and the door swung open. Stiles stood on the other side, phone pressed to his ear. I rushed out of the room, frantically looking around for Derek, but the still open window confirmed my worry. “Calm down.” Stiles tried.

“Kate took him.” I looked back at Stiles. “Kate took Derek. Ask Scott where she would take him.” My hands grabbed the keys to Stiles’s jeep from his hands before I raced down the stairs and out to the car. I jumped into the passenger seat as Stiles came chasing after me, getting into the already running car and heading towards the school.

He managed to pull up quick enough, letting me jump out and meet Scott and Malia while he went off to delay Scott’s dad. “Hey, calm down.” Scott pressed his hands to my shoulders.

“Kate took him and somehow managed to age him back, before kidnapping him, again. I can’t stay calm Scott. What if she kills him?”

“I don’t think that’s what she’s going to do.”

“Scott.” Malia called from the stairs going up to the second floor of the school. “Scott, what’s that smell?”

Chris Argent had told me stories of some of the supernatural beings he had faced in the past. I tried to check up on him as much as I could after Allison died. I didn’t have a father myself and I had seen him as a fatherly figure since Allison and I had become friends. This creature though, he didn’t have a lot to say on it, other than the fact that they were pretty much soulless creatures that were practically invincible. Berserkers seemed to scare the older Argent man, and so they scared me. I never thought I’d face one, let alone be running from one as my friends battled the other.

I had managed to put enough distance between myself and the one chasing me, but the one that Malia and Scott had been focused on caught me by surprise. It’s thick, bone covered hand swept out just as I was running past, sending me flying across the school floor and sliding up against the lockers in a corner not far from my friends.

Both of the berserkers faces locked on me, slowly creeping closer. “Scott!” I shouted, cowering as far as I could into the corner of lockers. “Scott!” Before any of their hands were able to grab at me, a large shadow managed to knock both away from me. The berserkers went after the shadow, giving Scott and Malia enough time to come to my sides and pull me to my feet.

Once the shadow was able to scare off the berserkers, it stood to it’s full height and turned to face us. Derek, as we knew him, stood in front of us, panting slightly from the fight and running all the way up to us. “Derek?” Scott was the first to ask, holding onto my shoulder.

His eyes locked on my face, and with a subtle nod, I was running across the hall over to him. Derek’s arms wrapped tightly around my waist as I threw my arms around his shoulders. He was back, after months of wondering what happened to him and the past few hours trying to convince him that we were friends, he was back.

“Are you ok?” I asked as I took a step back. “What happened to you?”

“Kate broke into the loft and shot me with wolfsbane. I don’t remember much after that.” His hands had yet to leave my waist as his head came to rest against mine. “All I remember is that I can trust you. I did, I do trust you.”

A breathy laugh escaped my nose as he tipped his head down to press his lips against mine softly. My fingers drifted from his shoulders to his hair, pulling him closer to me. His hands tightened their hold around my waist, slowly wrapping his arms around me completely.

A cough pulled the two of us apart, my cheeks flushed a bright pink as I glanced up into his eyes. “Guys.” Scott spoke, his feet shuffling loudly against the hall floors. “We should probably get out of here.”

“Go.” Derek told him. “We’re right behind you.” I could faintly hear Scott and Malia walk down the stairs, back towards the front of the school. “Come with me.” Derek didn’t ask, seemingly already knowing my answer when I linked my hand tightly in his. “You can trust me.”

A bright smile covered my face. “And you can trust me.”

@thetallassgirl @hallecarey1

[s0urw00lf]

Teen wolf movie comes out soon! SOOOOO EXCITED!!! I really hope stiles is in it… thoughts?

1 hr and 17 mins left to wait!!!

[obsessedwithitall]

Sometimes Its Fate (Stiles x witch!reader)

This is part of a big project of small writings of conversations and situations of a long story line I've daydreamed for a long time between Stiles and a witch!reader.

***

This one is set before they actually meet witch!reader

***

Scott and Stiles had been at the vets for hours talking through homework while Scott was working. The bell on the door rang out signalling someone had entered the establishment.

“Deaton?” a voice rang out. They didn't recognise it. “Are you here? I think left my book.”

Deaton rushed from the back room to greet the young woman in the reception area. Both voices went quiet but Scott listened in. He didn't recognise the signals the person was giving off, they weren't human but they also weren't any supernatural he had encountered.

“Which book did you leave?”

“The big one, sorry I know you said I had to be extra careful with that one. And I think my French book. I mean not that mum would mind.”

“Where did you leave it?”

“Can't I just go find it? I'm not 100% sure where I left it.”

“Stay there, I’ll find them for you.”

Scott started speaking to Stiles as Deaton came back through.

“Yeah, and if you throw it to Danny, then that should be a winner right there.”

“What are you talking about?” Stiles asked, confused.

Deaton left quickly 2 books in hand, one large battered one and another they recognised as a school textbook.

“Here. I’ll expect you to read the chapter on lay lines tonight.” Deaton whispered to the

“Yes, ok, fine. But I've got an assignment for English and some other homework as well, but I'll definitely try.” The bell rang again and the girl left.

“Who was that?” Stiles asked Deaton. Scott rolled his eyes at his friends bluntness.

“Um...my niece. I'm lending her some books for some homework.”

He wandered into the backroom again, leaving the two boys alone.

Stiles looked at Scott with wide eyes. “That was weird.”

Scott agreed with Stiles, but with a different reason. Scott had heard Deaton’s heartbeat when he told the it was his niece. He was lying.

[websterss]

WORRY — BRETT TALBOT

REQUEST: You get hurt protecting Brett and Lori.

WARNING(S): Angst

WORD COUNT: 1,341

PAIRING: Brett Talbot x fem!Reader  

A/N: Hope you enjoy it! Feedback is always welcomed!

MASTERLIST

The front doorbell had caught Deaton’s attention from the back. The jingle alerted him someone entered the clinic. He knew he had to be cautious.

“We’re closed!” Deaton called out. Though the hushed whispers of voices were enough to pique his sudden interest. He walked back to the front desk and stopped upon seeing Satomi, along with the sight of you barely holding onto Brett’s neck as he tried to keep you upright. All your shoes squeaked from the water. Lori was on your right, letting you lean some of your weight against her.

There was a loud heavy pour outside. It had been raining.

“Satomi. It’s nice to see you again.”

“I wish it was under better circumstances.” Satomi looked back at you. Black blood spilled past your lips.

Deaton opened the little gate door to let you all pass through towards the examination room. Deaton immediately cleared the center metal table and informed Brett to place you on top of it. You began to panic not wanting to be out of his hold. Your eyes grew big as you reached out for him.

“Hey, hey it’s okay. I’m here.” Brett pushed you back down gently. 

“Y/n I’m going to need you to relax okay? It will make it harder if you struggle.” Deaton looked down at you. “What was she poisoned with?”

“It’s Wolfsbane. She was hit with a bullet.” Brett said.

“Wolfsbane. I thought so.” Deaton grimaced. “Well I’ll need to get it out of her system before-“ You interrupted him as you let the silver bullet clatter onto the table. Deaton stared at the bullet speechless. Brett let his mouth hang open.

“I-I already…took care of it.” You said in labored breaths. Then you fainted. Your head fell back on the table with a tiny bang.

“Very well then…” Deaton gave a tight-lipped smile to the three of them, then turned his back to search for the thing he needed. He faced the group again and lit the blowtorch up.

“Woah woah woah. What are you gonna do with that?” Brett stood up straighter, as he eyed the flames burning fast.

“Well seeing as I’m left with no other choice.” Deaton edged the torch closer to you. “I have to burn it out of her.”

“Satomi?” Brett looked to her for reassurance.

“Deaton knows what he’s doing. It’ll be alright Brett.” She nodded.

Brett looked back to Deaton and then to you.

“You might wanna hold her down.”

Brett swallowed thickly before pressing his hands on your body. Satomi and Lori followed suit. The second the flame touched your skin. Your eyes sprung open. Glowing yellow, as the pain became too much. You pushed against the hands holding you down but they only kept pushing harder.

“Hold her!”

“We’re trying!” Brett yelled.

You roared out in agony as the ache grew and grew. It didn’t take long till your body gave out and you fell unconscious again.

-

“Is she gonna be alright?” Lori asked him.

“Her wounds appear to be healing now. Slowly, but healing.” All eyes drifted down to you. Your chest rose and fell with each inhale of breath you took.

“She pushed us out of the way.” Lori held her arm. She was distraught. You were suffering because of them. You had pushed them out of the way when the blast of a gun rang out. It hit you when it should’ve hit one of them. “It should’ve been one of us lying here.”

Brett placed a hand on her shoulder rubbing it back and forth for comfort. “She saved us. Half the pack got away but most of them weren’t so lucky. I told her to run, but she stayed back with me.” Brett recalled what had happened to you.

“What the hell are you doing? I told you to run!” Brett held you at arm's length.

“Well, you should’ve told me to do something else. When are you going to learn that I’m not going to listen to every word you say in this relationship.” You sputtered as the water got into your mouth. Your hair stuck to your face. You blinked rapidly, it was hard to see in the dark, but it grew more difficult with the heavy downpour. “I mean some of the shit you say is really stupid-” Brett cupped your face.

“Shut up.” Then leaned down to press his lips against yours. He pulled back slowly before giving you a once-over. “Are you hurt?”

“No.” You let your eyes drift from his chest to his face, then to his shoulders. No signs of injury. “Where’s Lori?” You looked behind you to see her standing a few feet away. “Lori?” You inched closer, but Brett put his hand out to you.

“Lori you alright?” He asked her. He stepped forward and laid a hand on her shoulder. Once he saw past her shoulder he realized why she stood so still. A red dot was aimed at her chest. Brett quickly pushed her behind him, blocking her view from it. 

“Brett…” You stepped closer seeing two more red dots inch their way up their bodies from the ground. “Move.” You risked another step. “Brett, move!” That’s when the blast rang out. You had shoved your body into their sides causing a domino effect. The bullet had made its hit, but it didn’t meet its right target. You groaned feeling pain shoot up your system. 

“Y/n!” Brett quickly helped you up. “Can you walk?” One shake of your head was enough to have him hoist you onto his back. Lori running in front of you two. “Lori go!”

It wasn’t out of the ordinary to watch one of your own get hurt every now and then. It came with life as a werewolf, the path some of you were born into. Satomi had restored what little hope you had when she found you. She saved your life. You owed her everything, and now there she stood brushing back the hairs on your face, watching your face contort in discomfort. You were in pain, and the black veins running up her arm were enough to show for it. You were one of her own. She took you in after you and your parents were on the run. You were given the chance to keep running, but it came with the cost of your parents stopping and fighting back. Satomi found you hiding in fear in a cave. She offered herself as a friend, a mentor. As an alpha. She made sure you weren’t alone.

It was rare to see Satomi show any other emotion. Her expression remained mostly stoic and reserved. Strength and anger is what most came across, but it was moments like these that Satomi let her guard down in front of her betas. She let a tear shed and it didn’t go unnoticed.

“We got her here in time, Satomi. She’s okay.” Brett spared his alpha a glance. “Besides you know how she is, she’ll be back to herself in no time, begging you to make your beef stew tomorrow.” Brett’s eyes crinkled at the thought. It brought a smile to Satomi’s face.

Satomi had let her head fall down. She spared your unconscious state a glance every now and then. She strained her ears enough to hear the slow rhythmic pattern of your heart beating. It was still there. It was enough to bring her some comfort.

“Her heart is slow.” Satomi frowned.

“But it’s still beating. That’s all that matters.” Brett put his hands out and placed it on top of hers. 

“I don’t know if I can’t take losing any more of you.” Satomi looked up at Brett and Lori.

“You’re not. Besides, we got Scott’s help now. This Deadpool will be over before you know it.” Brett offered a bit of peace of mind to his alpha, but even she knew that things were never going to be truly over. Not with the life you all lived.

“Let’s hope so, my dear boy.”