#derek hale x female reader

[soulofapatrick]

Rebuilding - Derek Hale x female reader

Summary: You show Derek the rebuilt Hale House you did for him

Words: 1.8k

warnings: none really; heavy making out

Notes: I can make a smutty part two

Y/N’s POV

The old Hale House had stood as a haunting reminder of the past, a testament to the tragedy and loss the family had endured. But now, it has been transformed into something new, something hopeful. With the combined effort of the pack and my Dad, it had become a symbol of rebirth and unity, a mansion that has welcomed every member with open arms and spare rooms for new pack members. 

As I stand in front of the restored mansion, I can’t help but feel a mixture of excitement and nervousness. Derek, who had once lived here in its glory days, deserves to see what I’ve done to the place. He’s been through so much, and I wanted this surprise to be a new beginning for him… for us hopefully. 

The anticipation in the air is palpable, and I can’t help but fidget with the key in my hand as I wait for Derek. The old Hale House, bathed in the soft light of the setting sun, seems to hold its breath in eager anticipation of his arrival. And then, I hear it - the familiar purr of Derek’s car engine. It’s a sound that I’ve come to associate with his arrival, and my heart quickens in response. The car pulls down the long, winding driveway, and I keep staring at the house, my hands shaking a little as I fiddle with the keys. 

Suddenly, there he is. Derek appears beside me, his tall, brooding frame casting a shadow on the gravel driveway. He looks rugged and handsome as ever, with that alluring air of mystery that has always drawn me to him. His dark brows are furrowed in curiosity and confusion, his eyes scanning the mansion before us as if he’s trying to work out where we are. It makes my heart drop as he doesn’t recognise it despite me trying to keep it as near as I can to the original Hale house. 

But then, something remarkable happens. As his eyes roam over the mansion’s exterior, his brows furrow even deeper, and then there’s a hint of disbelief in his expression. It’s as if the familiarity of the place has begun to dawn on him, piece by piece. The realisation hits him like a tidal wave. His kaleidoscope eyes widen, and a gasps escapes his pretty and plump lips, “Is… is this….?” His voice trembles with emotion, and for a moment, he can’t seem to find the words. 

I hold out the keys for him and he looks between the house and the keys and then back at the house, “I can’t… I… can you…” His voice falters, and it’s clear that he’s fighting back tears, the enormity of the moment almost too much to bear. Without a word, I’m nodding and reaching for his trembling hands. Our fingers interlace, and with a gentle squeeze, I lead him towards the grand entrance. 

Derek’s eyes remain locked onto the mansion, his disbelief and wonder still etched across his features. But he doesn’t need to say anything more for me to understand the whirlwind of emotions storming within him. 

I turn the key in the lock, my own fingers trembling slightly with anticipation. The door swings open, revealing the lovingly restored interior. The warm, golden light spills into the entryway, painting a new chapter on the old canvas of the Hale House. The grand entrance is now invitingly open, Derek taking a step forwards. His presence is so close to me that his chest is practically pressed against my back. The feel of him so near is electrifying, and it sends a shiver down my spine. 

“Welcome home Derek.” I say, my voice a soft, heartfelt whisper, as we cross the threshold together. 

The atmosphere inside is a mixture of nostalgia and fresh beginnings. The original features of the Hale House have been preserved, the hardwood floors polished, the walls adorned with artworks from the pack. The spaciousness of the rooms has been maintained, yet there’s a sense of cozy warmth that wasn’t there before. 

Derek’s gaze dances the space, a mixture of awe and sentimentality reflected in his expressive eyes. He appreciates the care and attention that went into preserving the essence of the house he called home. 

Then, he grabs my hands again with a gentle yet firm grip, leading me through the echoing halls as the pack gave us the house for Derek to see alone.  It’s a touch that sends a rush of warmth through me, the electricity of his touch palatable. We move through the house, our footsteps echoing, and Derek’s strides confident, as if he’s revisiting his own memories. 

As we ender the kitchen, Derek stops in his tracks. A soft, almost reverent sound escapes him, and his eyes widen again as he takes in the layout. It’s practically identical to the original Hale House kitchen, meticulously restored to match his recollections with the help of creepy uncle Peter. 

His grip on my hand tightens, and he turns to me, his expression filled with amazement, “This… it’s just like I remember it.” He says, his vice soft and filed with wonder, “You’ve brought it all back to life.” 

I can’t help but smile at his reaction. The kitchen holds countless memories for him, both happy and bittersweet, and seeing it so faithfully restored means the world to him. "We wanted it to feel like home," I reply, my voice equally hushed, knowing how much this place means to him. Derek’s thumb brushes over the back of my hand, his touch conveying the depth of his gratitude. It’s a silent exchange of emotions, the unspoken understanding between us.

And then, something changes in the air. Derek turns to me, his kaleidoscope eyes now shining with warmth and something else, something that sends a shiver of anticipation down my spine. His gaze flits down my lips, and in response, I can’t help but wet them with my tongue, suddenly feeling acutely aware of their dryness. It draws a small sound from Derek’s throat, low and almost involuntary, a testament to the magnetic pull between us. He leans in, closing the distance between our lips with a purposeful intent. Our mouths meet in a soft, longing kiss, a silent declaration of the emotions that have simmered between us for so long. 

His lips are soft yet insistent, moving against mine with a deliberate tenderness. I can feel the gentle, rhythmic movement of his mouth, each touch setting my heart racing. There’s a hint of urgency in his kiss, a desire that has been simmering just beneath the surface. Derek’s hands finding their way to my waist, holding e close as if he never wants to let me go. The touch of his fingertips against my skin sends shivers down my spine, and I press my body closer to his, wanting to feel every inch of him. 

My own hands move to rest on his chest, feeling the solid warmth of his body beneath my touch. They gradually work their way up, entwining in his shirt, wanting to pull him closer still. The connection between us deepens with every passing second, a silent confirmation of the emotions we’ve held back fr so long. 

Derek’s hands, which had been gently holding my waist, suddenly tighten their grip and before I can react, he’s lifting me up with a powerful yet careful motion. My legs instinctively wrap around this waist as he sets me on the edge of the kitchen island, never once breaking the kiss. 

Our lips remain locked in a heated embrace, a heated embrace, a testament to the fiery passion that's been ignited between us. Derek's tongue brushes over my lips, seeking entrance, and without hesitation, I part them, with a small, embracing sound escaping my lips which he swallows, tongue slipping past my lips. It's a dance of desire, a clash of longing, and a melding of two souls that have been drawn together by an irresistible force. Our mouths move with a shared urgency, each kiss deeper and more consuming than the last.

As our tongues explore and intertwine, Derek’s grip on my hips tightens, pulling me closer until I’m arched on the edge of the kitchen island. The sensation of his body pressed against mine is electrifying, sending heat down south where I’m pressed against his growing problem. It has my thighs tightening around him, hips jerking a little and drawing sounds from both of us. 

Finally our lips part, but only slightly, our foreheads resting against each other as we catch our breath. Derek’s voice is a husky whisper, filled with raw desire, “I’ve wanted to do that for so long.” He confesses, his words heavy with yearning, “ I couldn’t keep it in any longer.” 

My heart flutters at his admission, and I look into his kaleidoscope eyes, my own filled with the same longing, “Der…” I breathe, “I’ve felt the same way. I’ve wanted this as much as you have.” 

His lips find mine again, and the kiss that follows is fierce and fervent, a passionate culmination of our unspoken desires. It's a promise, a declaration, and a celebration of the love that has finally been acknowledged. 

But then, Derek's lips trail down from mine to my neck, and his kisses ignite a trail of fire across my skin. I gasp as his mouth leaves a mark, a fervent, possessive hickey, and another one right beside it. Each one is a silent proclamation of his desire, a mark of his longing for me. As Derek's kisses continue to trail down my neck, I gasp and my fingers clutch at his shoulders. The sensation is almost too much to bear, the heat of his mouth leaving a trail of fire across my skin, marked by possessive hickeys.

“Y/N,” He murmurs breathlessly voice heavy with desire, “If we don’t stop, I won’t be able to stop myself.” He pulls away slightly, his eyes dark and smouldering now and he lets out a low and sensual chuckle when an embarrassing moan escapes me. 

“Maybe…” I have to clear my throat, “Maybe we should check out your room.” My heart is racing as I say it, looking at him with a mixture of curiosity and desire, eager to hear his response but also somewhat ready for the rejection. 

Instead, he groans, head falling to my shoulder before he growls out, “Don’t… don’t say things like that baby girl.” I stay silent, knowing there’s more and he kissing my collarbone sweetly before murmuring, “But, I think it’s a very, very good idea.”

                           ┈ ✁✃✁✃✁✃✁✃✁ ┈

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Wherever You Will Go - Derek Hale x Reader

A/N: Inspired by the song Wherever You Will Go by The Calling

pairing: Derek Hale x Reader

warnings: angst-ish with fluffy ending, mild swearing, pining, toxic relationships.

word count: 2.4k

“If a great wave shall fall, and fall upon us all, well then I hope there's someone out there who can bring me back to you”

You and your friends piled into your usual booth at the bar, the same one you frequented so many times years ago when you still lived in Beacon Hills, barely old enough to drink, and with no real responsibilities of adulthood to your name apart from the odd phone bill and college tuition payment. Your friends had always called you sheltered, although back then, you didn’t really know what that meant. You had led a cushioned existence until your early twenties came, sick of being the well-behaved, pampered princess your friends and classmates thought you were (and really, you had to admit now looking back, they weren’t wrong), you rebelled. It started with being more open to attending parties, going out with friends every time they invited you, rather than turning them down to study as you usually did. 

Then, you met him.

At this point, you weren’t even sure what it was about Derek that reeled you in, other than the fact that he was everything your parents didn’t want you to date. Reserved, mysterious, rebellious, and often the centre of controversy - you knew Derek was the exact opposite of who everyone expected you to end up with, and that seemed to make you want him all the more at the time. He’d been resistant towards you at first - shrugging you off with a cold shoulder the first time you’d attempted to flirt with him. He was always so closed off, and he liked it that way. 

Everyone you knew warned you that he wasn’t the type to open up and make you swoon with romantic gestures or musings of love - all things you’d talked about wanting from a partner - but once you did start to break down the walls he’d built, you couldn’t deny the fact that he was a different person under the persona. He was caring and passionate, even if he didn’t convey his feelings very well most of the time. Behind the frosty cold exterior he’d created for himself, was someone who just wanted to be loved and appreciated, someone who was scared of losing the people he was close to, and someone who was building up walls to guard themself from getting hurt.

Your love for Derek was hard and fast - you fell almost instantly when he rejected you the first time. You’d spent your whole life always getting what you wanted, and the fact that he’d denied you without as much as a second thought that first time made you crave him all the more. By the second attempt at conversation, you’d changed your approach from flirtatious to friendly, and you’d begun to wear down his resistance little by little, with Derek offering to buy you a drink by the end of the night. By that point, your friends had gone home, and you’d forgotten entirely about how that had meant walking home alone in the dark. 

Derek sarcastically made a comment about not wanting to be questioned by the police if you didn’t make it home safe, with him being the last person you were seen with, and offered to walk you home. The next morning came the first text message, a simple, sarcastic, “Did you make it into bed without dying?” from Derek. Your reply was something along the lines of “Barely, but I’m here. Thanks for walking me home.”, and from there, you thought that the conversation would trail off, fizzling out and leaving you with nothing more than a one time gesture of friendliness from him. However, something ignited between the two of you - and to be honest, neither of you knew where it came from or why, but to everyone on the outside looking in, they’d say Derek fell as hard and fast as you did. 

That one time text exchange turned into daily text messages checking in to see how you were, what your plans were, what his plans were, how he was, if he was planning on being at the bar again when the next night of drinking with your friends rolled around. From there came sneaking Derek into your bedroom window like a pair of high school lovers, forbidden from seeing each other past curfew. One night together turned into a weekly occurrence, and the weekly escapades of sneaking Derek in or you sneaking out turned into nightly rituals of hooking up in any space that was deemed discreet enough to hide your indiscretions. 

All the old memories of your relationship with Derek came flooding back to you as you sipped your tequila sunrise, but just as quickly as they came, you were brought back to your senses by the sounds of your friends laughing and joking about their old college boyfriends. You blinked your eyes a couple of times as you stared off into space before snapping back to reality and looking to your friends, who were now glancing at you with raised eyebrows and sideways looks to one another. 

“You still with us?” 

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine. Just, thinking is all.” “Oh god, here we go.” Your friends all collectively let out a playful groan as they laughed, shaking their heads. Natalie, the least reserved of your group, looked at you with a knowing smirk as she put the straw of her drink to her lips, taking a sip.

“You were thinking about Derek, weren’t you? Wanting him to just walk through that door and sweep you away or some shit?”

“No, but weren’t we just discussing college boyfriends? He was my college boyfriend for two years,” you retorted dryly as you sipped your drink, shooting Natalie a dirty look as she teased you.

“I don’t think any sane person would call what you and Derek had a “healthy relationship”. You literally snuck him around like he was some kind of fugitive.”

“I did not. We just…liked the privacy.”

“Well, the way he ended things alone is reason to stop thinking about him. He was an asshole.”

You felt yourself fighting the urge to defend him and his actions, but you couldn’t deny the fact that Derek had ended things abruptly with you, and that you’d been heartbroken at the time. You knew he had his reasons - he had secrets and he was trying to protect you from them. 

He was scared and didn’t want you to get hurt or risk losing you to something beyond his control, so by making it his decision to let you go, he figured you’d both be better off for it. At the time, you’d argued, stamped your feet, threw your fists against his chest, all but begging him to reconsider, but you knew it was futile, and that his mind was made up. It’d crushed you, but part of you always knew that when your relationship moved at the speed of light, it had to come crashing to a halt at some stage. It just happened sooner and more abruptly than you’d expected. Still, despite you understanding he was doing what he thought was best for both of you, part of you resented him for how coldly and nonchalantly he’d done it. How he’d just ended things without as much as giving you a chance to fight for your relationship.

“It was three years ago. I’m over it,” you responded coyly as you sipped your cocktail, trying to brush off your lingering feelings, or drown them in alcohol.

“Really? Let’s test that theory, because I think he just walked in.” Your head spun around a little faster than you should have considering the tequila you had coursing through your veins at the moment, your eyes looking towards the doorway expectantly as you held your breath before your gaze landed on him. Sure enough, there was Derek, haunting your otherwise uneventful night out with your friends like a nightmare personified. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to see him again, but for every happy memory that came to mind, a dozen reminders of how you’d felt when he left you would accompany them.

“I doubt he’ll say anything, and even if he does, I’m over it,” you reaffirmed, nodding your head as you looked back at your friends seated around the table. 

“You’re right. He never did talk much. I always wondered what exactly you saw in him. He was always so…weird.”

As you opened your mouth to defend your relationship with Derek, you stopped, letting out a slight huff instead. You knew your friends were baiting you at this point, trying to get you to prove that you weren’t truly over Derek. And really, how could you be? He was your first everything - your mother warned you that you never forget your firsts, and as ridiculous as you thought she was at the time, in Derek’s case, it was true. You still loved him, as much as you hated to admit it.

You still loved the way his lips would turn up into a smirk whenever you said something he found amusing, like he was trying his hardest not to smile in public out of fear his reputation as a stoic, reserved individual could be blown. You loved the way his eyes weren’t quite green, yet weren’t quite hazel - sort of a colour all on their own. You loved the way that he would steal a kiss when he thought no one was around, his hand resting on your waist as he pulled you in to his body, holding you as close to him as physically possible, your body heat radiating between you. It had always been like he was starved for your touch, despite having seen him just a day before, and as soon as he held you close, you could see everything in him relax, all the tension and trauma he’d been holding on to, melting away for a brief time with you. 

Turning your attention to your empty glass, you frowned as you excused yourself to head to the bar. You felt your friends watching you closely, almost protectively keeping a gaze on you in case Derek should approach with an unwanted reunion. You let out a sharp exhale as you tried to collect yourself, having not stood this close to him in three years, at least. You couldn’t let him get to you. You knew what would happen if he even as much looked in your direction. You’d get pulled back in within an instant - faster than your heart could beat. You couldn’t let yourself do it again. 

You pretended to not see Derek, indifferent towards him, pretending he didn’t exist. Ordering yourself another drink, you leaned against the bar, your back turning to him in hopes he wouldn’t even see you there. However, sooner than you could request for the drink to go onto your tab, a leather jacket-clad arm extended in front of you, holding a credit card in its hand. The smell of Derek’s cologne enveloped your senses, pulling you in, intoxicating you as it wrapped around you. 

“I’ve got it, thanks,” you responded, yet finding yourself unable to push Derek’s hand away, knowing for sure that if you as much as brushed your hand against his, you’d be a goner for sure.

“I insist,” Derek said, without further argument.

Your drink was handed to you and the moment it entered your hand, you pressed your lips to the straw, taking a drink. You needed the alcohol if you were going to deal with Derek once again and confront your lasting feelings for him once and for all. You turned to face him, your expression cold and and collected as you looked at him, trying to avoid direct eye contact.

“Thanks, but that was entirely unnecessary.”

“I think I owe you a drink, at the very least.”

“I would have settled for an apology.”

“Fine, consider it my way of apologizing,” Derek said coldly, shrugging his shoulders with indifference as he nodded his head. 

“That’s a pretty piss poor excuse for an apology, but ok,” your tone was bordering on cruel as you spoke to him, it almost surprised you how non-caring you sounded.

“Look, maybe I didn’t do things right the first time,” Derek’s voice trailed off as he spoke, almost sheepish as he stopped just short of admitting guilt for how your relationship deteriorated.

“You think?”

Derek sighed as he dragged one of his hands over his face in exasperation and frustration, almost as if he was struggling to find the words to speak, and to make you understand him. He huffed as he looked down at you, shaking his head as if making a desperate attempt to formulate his thoughts before opening his mouth.

“Fine, I admit it. I fucked up. Happy?”

“Not really. That doesn’t make three years of you never really explaining why you couldn’t be bothered to give me a chance just magically go away, Derek.”

Derek furrowed his brows, shaking his head again and sighing. His hand snuck its way around to your waist, pulling you in towards him with one smooth fluid motion. Part of you wanted to push him away, humiliate him by dumping your drink over him and storm out, but the other part of you knew that you’d been craving something like this for the last three years, and you weren’t about to throw it away, especially if it was the last opportunity you might have to kiss him. 

“I’m sorry,” He whispered, almost inaudibly as he breathed the words into your ear. 

“That’s more like it,” You felt yourself smirking as he held you close to his body, knowing for a fact that you wanted him as badly as he wanted you and vice versa. The feel of his hand on your body made your heart race, sending shivers up your spine as he gently gripped your hip.

“You know, if you’re willing, I have three years to make up for, I think,” Derek murmured, his lips brushing against your ear in the way he always did when he was trying to be affectionate towards you.

“I think I could make room for you in my busy schedule. You’ve got a group of girls who think you’re the enemy though, Derek. You may have to charm them too,” You grinned, nodding your head towards your friends who all looked ready to get up and fight Derek until they saw the grin on your face.

“Let me make things up to you first, then you can decide if you want me to try my hand at grovelling to them too, ok?”

[arcane-vagabond]

I think I accidentally deleted the post, but….

The more I rewatch Teen Wolf, the more I wanna do Derek, but what do y’all think?

[inky-writing]

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Code Breaker 1x12

S2 Cast

S2 Episode 1

“No, I’m not letting you leave them here,” Stiles shakes his head, his voice breaking at the thought of leaving them here to die. He couldn’t look Michael in the eye and tell him that he let his daughter bleed out on the lacrosse field.

Peter wiped the blood off the corner of his mouth with a handkerchief, “You don’t have a choice, Stiles. You’re coming with me.”

“Just kill me!” Stiles screams. “I don’t care anymore!”

Peter walks over to the boy, sticking his claws under Stiles’ chin, lifting him up by simply using just the tips of his fingers. “Call your friend. Tell Jackson where they are. That’s all you get.”

Stiles pulls out his phone, his hands shaking as he calls Jackson. The explanation is rushed, leaving the blonde with a plethora of questions Stiles didn’t have time to answer. He feels like his world is falling apart every time his eyes meet Fallon’s form. He can’t even tell if she’s breathing. A few tears finally slip from his eyes, him quickly wiping them so Peter wouldn’t see. He just hopes that Jackson brings Issac or someone to get them both to the hospital.

The only thing Stiles didn’t seem to notice was the way Fallon slowly sits up as soon as he and Peter turn to walk away. Her mind is fogged, nothing making sense to her. There’s a dull sting in her side, she feels like she’s walking through a dream. The world around her seems to be in a purple haze. Every direction she looks is covered by the pretty color. She’s not quite sure if what’s happening is real, or if she died when Peter bit her. Lydia lays still beside her, shallow breaths leaving her body. Fallon tilts her head, feeling the urge to reach out and touch her, but a more primal need fills her. She has somewhere she needs to go. Someone she needs to find.

· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

The woods were a maze of twisting shadows and silvery moonlight, and Fallon stumbled through them, disoriented, her mind fogged with confusion. She could barely remember how she’d gotten here. One moment she’d been at the dance, the next... darkness, followed by pain. Everything after that was a blur.

The only thing that seemed clear, cutting through the haze in her mind, was a single command that pounded with every beat of her heart: Find Derek.

But why? Why was that the only thought running through her mind? Her legs were heavy, her body exhausted, but she couldn’t stop moving. Fallon didn’t know how long she had been running. Maybe hours. Maybe minutes. Time seemed warped out here, twisted by the shadows and the overwhelming sense of urgency that filled her.

Find him.

The thought echoed in her head, like a voice that wasn’t her own, yet completely hers at the same time. She didn’t understand it, but she couldn’t ignore it. The forest pressed in around her, branches clawing at her arms and legs, her footsteps uneven and unsteady over the rough terrain. The cold bit at her skin, but there was a strange heat radiating from inside her, a burning sensation she couldn’t explain.

Her breath came in short, ragged bursts, each inhale sending a sharp pain through her chest. She stumbled over a root, her knee crashing into the earth as she hit the ground. Fallon groaned, clutching her side as she gasped for breath, but the pain didn’t stop her from getting back up.

She couldn’t stop. Not yet.

The moon hung high in the sky, bright and full, casting an eerie glow over the forest. Fallon stared up at it, squinting against the light. There was something about the moon tonight. It felt... powerful. She could feel its pull, like it was connected to her somehow, drawing energy from it. The burning in her veins flared again, and she clenched her fists, trying to fight off the sensation.

She had to keep moving. She had to find him.

Derek.

His name pulsed through her like a drumbeat, and her feet moved forward before she even realized it. Her body felt different, almost like it was working independently of her mind. Her senses were sharper—she could hear every rustle of the leaves, every snap of a twig underfoot, every breath of wind that swept through the trees.

But there was more than that. She could feel something else—something raw and primal stirring inside her. Something that both terrified and exhilarated her. It was as if her body was changing, becoming something new, something powerful. And it frightened her.

What is happening to me? Fallon wonders, her thoughts barely audible over the sound of her own rapid breathing.

The wind carried no answer, only the distant howl of a wolf in the night. The sound sent a shiver down her spine, her heartbeat quickening in response. She felt exposed out here, vulnerable, yet stronger than she’d ever felt before. It didn’t make sense. None of this made sense.

She pressed on, her feet sinking into the damp earth as she moved deeper into the woods. The trees loomed over her, their branches like skeletal fingers reaching out to grab her. But Fallon barely noticed. Her mind was too clouded, too focused on finding him.

Derek. He was the key to this, wasn’t he? He had to be. Why else would her mind keep returning to him? She needed answers, and Derek was the only one who could give them to her.

But where is he? Why does she need to find him?

The moonlight flickered between the trees, casting strange shadows that danced across the ground as Fallon wandered deeper into the forest. Every step felt heavier than the last, her body aching from the relentless push forward. She wasn’t even sure where she was anymore. The forest seemed endless, and every direction looked the same.

Her pulse was racing, and the burning sensation in her chest only intensified the further she went. Fallon could feel it, that primal energy, bubbling just beneath the surface of her skin. She didn’t know how to stop it. Didn’t know if she could stop it.

The branches whipped at her as she broke through the thicket, her breath coming in sharp gasps. She had to slow down. Just for a moment. She needed to think, to figure out what was happening to her. But every time she tried to focus, her mind clouded again, that same thought overpowering everything else.

Find him.

· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

Stiles stumbles into the hospital, out of breath and a strong feeling of panic in his chest. Nurses, Doctors, and patients all whirl around him, only making his anxieties grow. He just got away from Peter, the older man stealing his Jeep in the process. He got Derek’s location for the man and now his only priority is finding Lydia and Fallon. His only hope now is that they’re still alive for him to find.

He charges forward once he sees Lydia’s room, but is stopped by his father. Noah pushes him back slightly, jabbing his pointer finger into his son's chest. “You know what? It’s good that we’re in a hospital because I’m gonna kill you.”

Stiles stammers emotionally, “I’m– I’m sorry. I lost the keys to my Jeep. I had to run all the way here,” he explains trying to get a glimpse of the strawberry blonde. He hasn’t heard anything about Fallon yet.

“Stiles, I don’t care!” Noah exclaims angrily.

The boy finally sees Lydia in full, the girl completely unconscious, receiving her oxygen through a tube. “Is she gonna be okay?” He asks tiredly.

Noah sighs, looking back at the teenage girl with unsure eyes. “They don’t know…” he answers. “Partially because they don’t know what happened. She lost a lot of blood, but there’s something else going on with her.”

Stiles’ chest tightens, “W-what do you mean?” He asks broken heartedly.

“The doctors say it’s like she’s having an allergic reaction. Her body keeps going into shock.”

Stiles’ face falls as he realizes that means her body could be rejecting the bite. Suddenly a more prominent worry takes over his mind. “W-what about Fallon?” he asks with wide eyes. “Where is she? They told me Lydia was up here, but I didn’t hear anything about Fallon.”

Noah’s face scrunches in confusion. His own heart rate quickening, “What do you mean, ‘what about Fallon?’” He questions his son.

“Wait–” Stiles’ lip quivers. “Did Jackson not bring her in? I told him that Fallon and Lydia were on the lacrosse field,” his breathing quickens when he watches his dad get very worried in a short span of time.

“Stiles, Lydia was the only one Jackson brought in.” Noah reveals.

“No–” Stiles shakes his head, trying to keep his fear at bay. Where could she have gone? She was unconscious. “No. Dad, she was there, okay? She was hurt, bad. Like bleeding out from a wound on her side bad. She’s supposed to be here. Why– why isn’t she here? She couldn’t have just gotten up and walked away!”

Noah’s heart drops, but he calmly presses the button on his radio, “All units, I need an APB out on a missing girl. Brown hair, about 5’5, blue eyes.”

“She was wearing a pink sparkly dress with a slit on the side,” Stiles interjects, trying to give as much detail as possible.

His dad nods, ”Her name is Fallon Donovan. Was last seen wearing a pink dress with glitter embedded in it. She won’t have any ID on her, and according to a witness is injured. Wound to the side.”

Stiles runs a frustrated hand through his buzzed hair, his breathing more ragged than ever. He lost his best friend. His best friend since third freaking grade. He lost her. She could be dead, and it’s all because he let Peter control him.

Peter. Maybe he’s the reason she’s gone. Did he send someone to get her body? Why would he do that when he promised he wouldn’t hurt them? His mind runs at a million miles a minute until his dad pulls him out of the rabbit hole he’s going down.

“Stiles,” he snaps his fingers. “Did you see anything? I mean, do you have any idea who or what attacked them? We could use that to try and narrow down the search.”

Telling his father about Peter would mean revealing the entirety of the supernatural to him. He couldn’t risk putting his father in danger. “No,” he lies, hoping there’s another way to find Fallon. “No, I have no idea.”

“What about Scott?” Noah questions.

“What do you mean? What about him?”

“Did he see anything?” Noah elaborates, practically working with nothing to try and find his own best friend's daughter.

“What do you–” Stiles breathes out, confused. “Is he not here?”

“What are you talking about?” Noah furrows his eyebrows. “I've been calling him on his cell phone. I've gotten no response.”

That’s when Stiles remembers. Scott doesn’t have his phone. Derek does. “Yeah…” he mutters looking down to his feet. “And you’re not gonna get one.

· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

Fallon staggers, her legs nearly giving out beneath her as she pressed her back against a tree, trying to catch her breath. The world around her seemed to spin, the trees blurring into a dizzying swirl of darkness and light.

Her chest ached, and she could feel her pulse pounding in her ears, her skin prickling as that strange energy surged through her once again. It was almost too much, like her body was on fire from the inside out. She pressed a hand to her chest, trying to steady herself.

The urge to give up is present, but she needs him. She needs to know where he is. If he’s okay. If he can help her.

She pushed herself off the tree, her legs trembling as she forced herself to keep moving. There was no time to rest, no time to stop. She didn’t know how much longer she could keep going, but she didn’t have a choice.

Suddenly, she heard it—a growl, low and menacing, echoing through the trees.

Her heart leapt into her throat as she froze, her eyes darting through the darkness. The sound sent a wave of fear through her, but there was something else, too. A strange sense of familiarity. The growl wasn’t just any growl.

It was Derek.

Without thinking, Fallon took off in the direction of the sound, her legs moving on instinct alone. Her mind was too foggy to fully process what was happening, but she knew she had to reach him. She had to find him.

Branches snapped beneath her feet as she raced through the forest, her breath coming in ragged gasps. Fallon’s heart pounds loudly. She was getting closer. She could feel it.

The ground seemed to slope downward, and Fallon stumbled, her body careening forward as she slid down the incline. She hit the ground hard, her knees scraping against the dirt, but she barely registered the pain. She pushed herself back up, her pulse racing as she darted forward again.

The growl came once more, a low rumble that sent a shiver down her spine, but it was closer now. Much closer. Fallon’s heart raced as she pushed herself harder, her legs burning as she sprinted through the trees.

The moonlight flickered overhead, casting strange shadows that seemed to dance around her. But Fallon didn’t care. All she could think about was Derek, and the primal, animalistic sound of his growl pulling her forward.

And then, just as suddenly as it had started, the growl stopped.

Fallon skidded to a halt, her breath catching in her throat as she stood in the middle of a small clearing. The forest was eerily silent now, the wind barely rustling the leaves overhead. Her pulse thundered in her ears as she scanned the area, her eyes wide with confusion.

“Derek?” Fallon’s voice was shaky, her body trembling from both fear and exhaustion.

But there was no response.

The silence was deafening, and Fallon’s heart sank as she realized she was alone again. She hadn’t found him. Not yet. But she was close. She had to be.

Her legs felt like they were made of lead as she took a few hesitant steps forward, her chest heaving with each breath. The burning sensation in her veins has intensified, and Fallon could feel her body vibrating with that strange energy. It was overwhelming, like her body was on the verge of breaking apart.

She staggers forward, clutching her chest as she gasps for breath. The moon seemed impossibly bright overhead, its light almost blinding as it bathed the clearing in an otherworldly glow. Fallon squinted against it, her vision blurring as the world seemed to tilt on its axis.

She shakes her head, the purple in her vision becoming more clear as she tries to push through. A low growl emits from her own chest as a newfound energy finds its way into her veins. She sucks in a breath, the pine trees above making her chest pang from the freshness. The air is too crisp to avoid the jabbing in her chest, but she ignores it.

The growl she heard reverberates in her head as she tries to follow the sound. It scares her how her body seems to know exactly where to go just by sound alone. She replays it over and over again until her body halts in front of a familiar structure.

The Hale House.

Her brows furrow, until she gets a rather strong smoky scent of leather and pine. It fills her nose and she closes her eyes. It’s him. He’s here. That’s when she also notices a different scent lingering in the air. It’s familiar to her. Fresh soap, cedar, with a slight hint of eucalyptus. It smells energetic and warm. Much like Scott. He’s here too. He found Derek the same way she did.

She travels through an unnecessary amount of brush and weeds, finding an underground entrance. Her mind is still repeating the same mantra over and over again. The scent gets stronger and pulls her through the winding pathways of the underground looking jail. All of her senses are on overdrive. She can hear, smell, and see things that no normal human should be able to.

“Ready for some more fun?” A dark voice fills her ears. She assumes it’s a hunter. She’s careful not to give away her location, walking on the tips of her toes to remain unnoticed. “To be honest, my knuckles are kind of hurting... So, I brought some help. But, I need to warn ya– I used to play in college.”

She stops when she hears the sound of the bat being caught. Right before she turns a corner, she notices Scott standing in the middle of the hallway, no doubt staring the hunter down. “…I brought a little help too.” Derek reveals.

Scott moves smoothly into the room, eyes glowing yellow as Derek knocks the hunter out. Fallon wonders how neither of them have picked up on her scent, but that’s a question for later. She clutches her side, the bleeding slowing, but still rather prominent.

Chains rattle as she moves further down the way. The brunette stops right before the room Derek’s being held in. She peeks around the corner, watching Derek struggle to pull his other arm out of its restraint.

“Scott, help me with this,” he commands urgently, not wanting to get caught by Kate who is no doubt going to return soon.

“No.”

Fallon fights the primal urge to growl at the defiance. She doesn’t understand why her anger is so high, but what she does understand is that Derek needs help. And if Scott isn’t going to do it, then she will.

“What?” Derek looks at Scott in disbelief.

The younger boy takes a brave step forward, standing up to Derek, “Not until you tell me how to stop Peter.”

Derek tugs at the chain again, “You really wanna talk about this right now?” He asks exasperatedly.

“He’s going after Allison and her family. He’s going to kill them.”

“So what?!” Derek shouts, not exactly caring if the Argents end up dead. Fallon can feel his anger, the bubbling rage that he uses to keep himself human. The purple tint over her eyes makes the room around her look much more menacing, darker than it actually is. She hides in the shadows, creeping carefully against the wall, using the lack of light to her advantage.

“So, tell me how to stop him,” Scott demands calmly.

“You can’t!” Derek reality checks him. “All right?” He once again frustratedly tugs in the chains holding him in place. He angrily looks at Scott, “Now, I don’t know when Kate’s coming back, so just get me out of this right now! Get me out right now!”

“Promise you’ll help me,” Scott persists.

“You want me to risk my life for your girlfriend?” Derek asks furiously, baring his teeth at Scott. “For your stupid little teenage crush that means absolutely nothing? You're not in love, Scott! You're sixteen years old! You're a child!”

“Maybe you're right…” Scott nods, conceding to his point. “But, I know something you don't. Peter said he didn't know what he was doing when he killed your sister, right? He lied.” He pulls out a crumpled up autopsy report from his pocket, holding it up for Derek to read. “Remember this?” There’s a dead deer in the center, a spiral embedded into its side. “This is what brought your sister back to Beacon Hills, right?”

“Where did you get that?” Derek asks breathily.

“My boss told me three months ago, someone came into the clinic asking for a copy of this picture. Do you wanna know who it was?” Scott asks rhetorically, planning on revealing the information without an answer. “Peter's nurse. They brought your sister here so that Peter could kill her and become the Alpha, and that's why you're going to help me.”

Derek’s jaw clenches with anger, his nose flaring as he processes the new information. He balls his locked up hand into a fist, making Scott think he’s still being defiant. The boy turns around with a sigh, “Just say you’ll help me, and I’ll help you unlock your other–”

Fallon takes that as her opportunity, she sneaks up behind Derek, ripping the cuff off of his wrist. Scott stops in his tracks when he hears the metal hitting the ground. He spins around and sees Derek freed, with a very dazed Fallon standing behind him, her eyes flashing purple.

“Fallon?” Scott’s eyes widen. It takes Derek a moment to process that the girl is the one who just released him. He takes in her appearance. Still in her winter formal dress, the right side of it torn and drenched with blood. Her feet are caked with mud and dirt and that’s when he realizes Peter did exactly what he told him not to.

“He bit her,” Derek says angrily.

“Derek…” the girl mumbles, swaying back and forth on her feet. “Found… you,” she barely manages to get that out before collapsing. Derek surges forward, catching the girl in his arms.

He cranes his neck to fully assess the wound, his heart pounding rapidly. His breathing speeds up and his eyes grow worried at the thought of her dying from this. But he slowly calms when he sees that the injury is healing. Her body isn’t rejecting the bite. But she’s still in no condition to be running around in the woods.

“We need to get her out of here,” Derek says. “Now.”

Scott nods his head in agreement, leading the way out of the cellar. They climb uphill and out of the gate and begin trudging through the forest. Fallon’s limp body sways back and forth, Derek cupping the back of her head so she doesn’t accidentally break her neck.

“I don’t understand,” Scott turns to the man. “If he just bit her, how did she know where to find you? I didn’t even think people could adjust that quickly after being bitten.” He says, completely lost as he stares at his best friend with concern.

“I don’t know…” Derek mutters. “But she hasn’t completely adjusted, that’s why she passed out.”

Fallon’s eyes flutter open, but this time they’re her regular color. She groans as the pain in her side returns, no longer just a dull ache. It’s come back with a stinging vengeance. Though the wound is definitely not as bad as it would be if she wasn’t rapidly healing.

She startles when she notices she’s in Derek’s arms. The last thing she remembers was running outside to find Lydia. “Derek…?” She questions, voice groggy. Her head spins and that’s when she notices her best friend, “Scott?”

“Fallon!” Scott exclaims, practically ripping the girl out of Derek’s arms.

She wriggles her way out of Derek’s hold, planting her wobbly feet on the ground. She uses Derek’s shoulder for support. “What the hell happened?” She asks, looking at her own appearance with disgust. “And why am I in the middle of the woods?” That's when she suddenly remembers what Derek did to her a mere few days ago. She slaps his chest roughly, “And where have you been?! You sneak into my room and try to kill me only to disappear for two freaking days!”

“You tried to kill her?” Scott asks angrily.

“I didn’t try to kill her,” Derek rolls his eyes, annoyed. “I gave her a warning, one she clearly didn’t listen to considering the fact she has a whole chunk missing from her side.”

“I didn’t exactly have time to build a relationship with a whole family of hunters,” Fallon replies snidely. “I had about as much time as you were missing.” She looks down at her hip, swallowing thickly as she watches the skin literally mend back together. “So– I–” she sucks in a breath. “Does this mean that I’m…?” She looks at Scott and Derek, both of them sensing the fear in her.

“We don’t know yet,” Scott says comfortingly. “We didn’t see much, but you managed to find Derek on your own. You don’t remember any of it?”

“No,” she shakes her head. “The last thing I remember was going to find Lydia on the lacrosse field. She was looking for Jackson.”

“Well,” Scott sends Derek a worried look. The only thing they do know is that she’s not a normal werewolf. At least not one they know of. Her eyes were purple. “We don’t know for sure, but we do know that you’re something.” He watches as her face falls and tears begin to well up behind her eyes. Of course, being who she is, she tries to hide them. “I’m sorry, Fall.”

She sniffles, waving her hand in the air. “It’s fine,” she mumbles. “I’m fine. Can we please just get out of here?”

Derek has never felt more guilty. He told her he wouldn’t let her get bit. He might’ve threatened her, but that doesn’t mean he actually wanted this to happen. His goal was to protect her, and he did the exact opposite. The very person he’s been helping hurt her. Knowing Peter killed his sister and deliberately went behind Derek’s back to bite Fallon makes the man beyond furious.

Scott helps Fallon climb up the small hill that leads away from the Hale house. All the girl wants to do is sleep for the next twenty years. She’s never felt more exhausted in her life. But apparently, traveling with these two means that request is simply too much to wish for.

“Hey, hold on, hold on, hold on,” Derek stops them, an uneasy feeling settling in his stomach. He analyzes the woods around them. “Something doesn't feel right.”

Scott slings Fallon’s arm over his shoulder, trying to ease the pain she’s feeling as much as possible. Now that her adrenaline has worn off, she’s going to feel the ache of the bite for the next hour or so. That's what happened to him. “What do you mean?” He asks, both him and Fallon trying to see what’s making him skeptical.

“ I don't know,” Derek exhales. “It’s- it's kind of like it was–”

“No!” Scott interjects loudly. “Don’t say ‘too easy.’ People say ’too easy’ and bad things happen,” Derek rolls his head to the side irritatedly. Scott raises his eyebrows challengingly, “What, do you think finding you was easy? Getting away from Allison's dad? Fallon getting bit by your uncle?! None of this has been easy!” He exclaims.

Derek nods his head with a sigh, realizing he might be being a bit over dramatic. “Fine. You're right.”

Scott throws his head back, “Thank you. Now can we please go–”

Scott is cut off by a loud and high pitched whirring. Fallon’s head snaps into the direction it’s coming from, and she gasps as an arrow lodges itself into Derek’s shoulder. He topples over weakly, the wind being knocked out of him as his energy is still depleted after being tortured for the past two days.

“Derek!” She yells, rushing over to him. Another arrow flies through the air, nailing him in the leg. She drops down next to him, moving quickly to try and remove the arrows. She glances in the direction where Derek once had suspicions of and she sees Allison with a large bow in her hand, Kate standing by her side. She whispers something into her niece's ear.

“Now the flash-bolt.”

Fallon’s eyes widen, “Scott!” She screams. “Cover your eyes!” She surges forward, hiding Derek and her own face with her arms, hoping Scott had enough time to do it for himself.

He didn’t. The arrow fires, hitting the tree next to him. A bright light flashes, momentarily blinding the werewolf as he also falls to the ground. He grunts out in pain, the bright light giving him an instant headache. Derek clenches his teeth as Fallon finally pulls out the arrow in his leg. “I know, I know,” she says. “I’m sorry. But you gotta get up.”

She pulls him to his feet, their combined strength being enough to get both of them up. They pull each other closer to Scott, Derek grabbing him by the collar of his jacket. They stumble and fall as they try to run away. Fallon trips over a branch on the floor in front of the Hale house due to Derek losing his grip on her. All three of them fall to the floor, incapacitated in some way.

“Fallon! Scott! Go!” Derek begs them, hoping that they can find a way to escape. Scott sits there, his vision still not fully focused as Allison comes out of the tree line. Fallon grits her teeth in pain, having fallen on the side that’s still healing. Once Derek sees the hunter coming, he pulls Fallon over to him, blocking her body with his own.

Scott scoots backwards as his girlfriend/ex-girlfriend continues stalking towards him. “Allison, I can explain,” he says in a panic.

“Stop lying,” the girl stops him, not interested in what he has to say. “For once, stop lying,” she hisses.

“I was gonna tell you the truth at the formal. I was gonna tell you everything... because everything that I said, everything that I did–

“Was to protect me,” Allison interrupts rudely. She tilts her head condescendingly as Scott looks up at her with pleading eyes.

“Yes,” the boy confirms.

Tears well up in Allison’s eyes. She shakes her head at his sentiment, “I don’t believe you.”

Kate groans in relief, nonchalantly waltzing over to the scene with a gun in hand. “Thank God,” she huffs tiredly. “Now shoot him before I have to shoot myself.”

Fallon feels Derek tense up when Kate draws near. The newly bitten girl reaches forward, gently placing her hand on Derek’s back to assure him she’s still there. She shuffles around, moving into a more defensive position. Watching Allison betray her friends so easily makes Fallon realize where her loyalties really were this entire time. They were never safe with her. Maybe Peter was right.

Allison looks back at her aunt nervously. She blinks a few times, not comprehending the request. “You… you said we were just gonna catch them.”

“We did that,” Kate nods patronizingly. “Now we’re gonna kill them.” She raises her gun, firing one shot at Derek’s chest, right where Fallon had just pulled out the arrow. Fallon goes to try and attack the woman, but Kate is quick to cock the gun at her. She tilts her head, a menacing smile covering her face. “Too bad you had to go getting involved in things that didn’t concern you,” she pouts fakely. “I actually kind of liked you.” That’s when she pulls the trigger, a bullet whizzing into Fallon’s thigh. She grunts in pain, falling to the floor as blood pools around the wound. She starts applying pressure to it, trying to get the bullet to come to the surface. She remembers Derek saying that it won’t heal unless the bullet is out.

Allison feels the urge to run towards Fallon, but stops when Kate approaches her. “She-she’s innocent,” Allison says with glossy eyes. “She hasn’t done anything. She isn’t a werewolf.”

“Oh honey,” Kate giggles. “Why don’t you look at that big bite mark on her side? I’d beg to differ.” She turns her attention back towards a terrified looking Scott. “Now kill him.” Allison shifts uneasily. Her mouth opens and closes, at a loss for what to do. She can’t just kill the boy she loves. Kate’s face falls, a small groan leaving her lips. “Oh no… I know that look. That’s the ‘you’re gonna have to do it yourself’ look.” She sighs, clicking her tongue, but doesn’t hesitate to hold her gun up, directly aligned with Scott’s head.

Fallon ignores the bullet still lodged in her leg as she tries to crawl towards Scott. However, Derek is able to gain enough strength to pull her back down. He tugs the girl into his chest, preventing her from going anywhere near Kate or Allison. She whispers Scott’s name, calling for him, telling him to run. She wants to protect him, to throw her body in front of his, but Derek’s tight hold stops her. He keeps his arms coiled around her midsection, not giving her any room to escape.

Allison surges forward, “Kate– Kate, what are you doing?!” She tries to stop her aunt, but Kate is quick to shove Allison to the ground.

The older woman tilts her head, “I love those brown eyes…” She cooes before placing her finger methodically on the trigger, but just as she’s about to shoot, someone calls her name.

Chris.

“Kate!” The man’s commanding voice gets all of their attention. His gun is gripped tightly in his hand as he stares down his sister. He takes a step forward, “I know what you did,” he says accusatively. “Put the gun down.”

As the chaos unfolds around them, Fallon lays on the cold ground, her breath coming in sharp, ragged gasps. The pain from the gunshot wound radiates through her body, mingling with the strange, pulsing energy coursing under her skin as the transition into a werewolf slowly takes hold. She clutches her thigh, her fingers slick with blood, as Derek pushes himself up beside her, his own pain evident but masked behind his usual stoic expression.

"You need to focus," Derek murmurs, his voice low, barely above a whisper as he presses his hand over her wound, applying gentle pressure. His face is tight with pain, but his gaze never wavered from hers. "You’re healing… but you need to control it."

Fallon clenches her jaw, fighting to keep the overwhelming pain at bay. “It hurts, Derek…” Her voice is strained, barely managing to push the words out as her body trembled. She could hear Kate and Chris arguing in the background, but it felt distant, almost like a blur compared to the searing heat of her wound.

“I know,” Derek replies, his voice still calm, though the urgency in his eyes was clear. "But you’re stronger than this. The moon is giving you strength. Use it."

She nods weakly, squeezing her eyes shut. The energy from the moon seemed to flicker within her, almost like it was waiting for her to take control, but it was slipping through her fingers. Her breaths were shallow, each one sending a sharp pain through her chest.

Derek’s hand moves to her cheek, forcing her to look at him. His face was closer now, his eyes piercing through the fog of pain clouding her mind. “Fallon, breathe. You have to let the pain fuel you, not overwhelm you.”

She opens her eyes, her gaze meeting his, the connection between them grounding her in a way nothing else could. For a moment, the chaos around them fell away, and it was just Derek—steady, strong, a quiet force anchoring her. Fallon took a shaky breath, her fingers curling around his wrist for support. The warmth of his skin against hers was the only thing keeping her tethered to the moment.

“I’m trying,” she whispers, her voice barely audible.

Derek’s grip tightened, a flicker of something almost gentle in his otherwise stoic expression. "I know you are. You’re going to heal, Fallon. You’re not going anywhere."

The sound of Kate’s voice rang out again, “I did what I was told to do.” It’s a harsh contrast to the moment between them, but Derek didn’t flinch. Fallon, despite the agony she felt, found strength in his words. She took a deep breath, focusing on the steady rise and fall of his chest next to hers, feeling the energy begin to shift inside her. The pain was still there, but it was duller now, less consuming.

"Stay with me," Derek murmurs, his voice low but firm. "Just a little longer."

Fallon nodded, her hand still holding onto him as the faint glimmer of healing began to take over. She wasn’t sure if she could fight off the transition completely, but with Derek beside her, she knew she wasn’t alone.

“No one asked you to murder innocent people! There were children in that house, ones who were human,” he stares at his sister with nothing but disappointment in his eyes. ”Look what you're doing now! You're holding a gun at a sixteen-year-old boy with no proof he's spilled human blood! We go by the Code– Nous chassons ceux qui nous chassent.”

“We hunt those who hunt us,” Allison whispers, suddenly regretting all of this evening's choices.

Kate rolls her eyes, moving to try and shoot Scott again, until Chris points his gun directly at her head. “Put the gun down,” he commands firmly. When Kate doesn’t surrender, he pulls the trigger, the bullet barely missing Kate’s face, launching into the tree behind her. “Before I put you down,” his voice is laced with warning.

Kate finally listens, allowing Scott a moment to breathe. Then there’s a small creaking sound that makes everyone tense up as they look to the front door of the burnt down house. Derek is quick to scoot him and Fallon back, both of them getting the sense that the following events are not going to be pretty.

“Allison,” Chris cautiously calls out to his daughter. “Get back.”

The door opens slowly, an eerie tone filling the atmosphere. Chris and Kate’s gun immediately goes to the door. Scott shoots up to his feet, claws out and ready for a fight. Derek and Fallon on the other hand stand up slowly and carefully. Derek’s eyes flash blue, “Stay behind me,” he whispers.

Fallon scoffs, her own eyes flashing back at him in offense. She can’t control them, but it was the perfect moment of retaliation. “No,” she defies him, moving to stand at his side. “I’m helping.”

He growls under his breath, but figures this isn’t the best time to lecture her. He rolls his neck, his Cannes slowly revealing themselves. Fallon gulps, realizing that might be her by the time the next full moon rolls around.

Instead of heeding her father’s warning, Allison gets up and grips her bow tightly. “What is it?” She questions.

“It’s the Alpha,” Scott answers.

One by one, the circle of people are taken down by Peter. Chris goes down first, then Allison, and then Scott. Which leaves Kate being the only one standing. She spins around, trying to catch Peter in a moment of weakness, her gun at the ready. “Come on!” She taunts the powerful man, urging him to try and get her. “Come on!”

For whatever reason, Peter leaves Derek and Fallon untouched. They both watch curiously, waiting for a moment to intervene. But watching Kate squirm wasn’t such a terrible thing. Fallon would probably have cared a bit more if the woman hadn’t just shot here a mere three minutes ago.

As Kate spins around once more, Peter appears in front of her. His hand grabs her wrist, the one holding the gun. She grunts out in pain as he squeezes her arm so tightly that his knuckles turn white. She fires her gun, desperately hoping one of the bullets hits him, but it’s of no use. Every single one of them fly in the air, the casings gracefully falling down to the floor.

Peter hits her hand roughly causing the blonde woman to scream and drop her gun. Her scream is halted by Peter wrapping his hand around her neck. Apparently the Hale’s have a thing for strangulation. She screams in pain as Peter chucks her across the clearing and onto the front porch of the house. She cries out, her back hitting the rotting wood with a loud thud before Peter drags her into the house.

“No!” Allison screams, running into the house in hopes of saving her aunt.

A lot of commotion goes on inside the house. Derek moves to go towards the front door, but once he notices Fallon trying to follow him, he stops. He grabs her by the arms, picking her up and setting her down far behind him. “You’re not coming with me,” he says.

“Yes,” she corrects him. “I am.”

“No,” he mocks her tone. “You’re not. You’re going to stay out here where it’s safe.”

“The second you leave I won’t be safe!” She argues with him. “Just stop being a stubborn ass and let me go with you!”

Derek lets out an annoyed breath, but nonetheless allows the brunette to follow him in. Scott also joins them as they dart inside the house, just in time as Peter starts to advance on Allison. Scott and Derek transform easily, baring their teeth as they get ready to attack Peter. Loud growls escape their lips as Fallon just stands there, struggling to even get her claws to show. They make this look much easier than it actually is.

Scott charges towards Peter, the two of them fighting which gives Derek enough time to help Fallon. “Stop thinking so much!” He yells at her. “It won’t happen if you overthink it.”

“I’m trying, Derek!” She snaps, ducking as a piece of wood flies at her head, courtesy of Scott and Peter. “Not exactly like riding a bike!”

Peter turns his attention towards his nephew after he’s satisfied with throwing Scott around. Derek grunts, “Dig deep!” He advises. “Find something that makes you angry. That makes your pulse rise, and lean into it.”

Peter laughs, punching Derek in the face with no remorse. “She’s not ready. You’re sending her to her death, Derek.”

Scott stands up and lunges at Peter, claws outstretched, but Peter sidesteps effortlessly, sending him crashing into the wall. Fallon watches, heart racing, knowing she needs to help, but her body isn't responding. She’s stuck between human and whatever she is, unable to break free.

“Fallon!” Derek barks at her. “You can do this. Focus on your heart rate. Get angry and use it.”

Fallon squeezes her eyes shut, forcing herself to block out the sound of Peter’s taunts, the chaos around her. She focuses on the rhythmic pounding of her heart, letting it grow louder in her ears. She thinks about the fear she felt for Allison, the anger towards Peter, and the fire in her blood when Derek yelled at her. The tension of the moment surges through her body, sparking something deep inside.

Her pulse quickened, and with it, she felt the shift. Her body responded, bones snapping and realigning as her form began to change. The pain is excruciating, but she embraces it, letting the power of the full moon wash over her. Her senses sharpening, her vision clearing, and suddenly, the wolf inside her is unleashed.

The energy coursing through her feels unstoppable, like she can tear the entire house apart with her bare hands. She locks eyes with Peter, her eyes glowing a bright shade of purple, her lips curling back into a snarl as she steps forward, her claws glinting in the dim light.

Peter’s smirk falters, just for a moment, as he takes in her form. “Interesting,” he muses, “but still inexperienced.”

Fallon charges at him, moving faster than she ever thought possible, her claws slicing through the air. Derek and Scott flank her, working together to keep Peter on the defensive. Fallon’s blows are powerful, each one sending shockwaves through the room, but Peter dodges them with ease, his experience as an Alpha giving him the upper hand.

Scott manages to land a punch to Peter’s jaw, sending him stumbling back. Fallon sees her opening and leaps forward, swiping at his chest with all her strength. Her claws meet flesh, leaving deep gashes across Peter’s torso, but it isn’t enough to bring him down.

Peter roars in fury, his red eyes glowing with rage as he swipes at Fallon, knocking her off her feet. She crashes into the wall with a grunt, the wind knocked out of her. Before she can recover, Peter is on her, his hand wrapping around her throat as he lifts her off the ground.

“You think you can fight me?” Peter growls, his voice dripping with venom. “You’re nothing but a child playing with power you don’t understand.”

Fallon claws at his arm, trying to break free, but his grip is like iron. She gasps for air, her vision blurring as the edges of her consciousness begin to fade.

Suddenly, Derek is there, ramming into Peter and knocking him off balance. Fallon falls to the floor, coughing and gasping for breath. Derek stands over her protectively, his own body battered but still standing strong.

Scott joins them, standing beside Derek as the two of them face off against Peter. "Fallon, stay down!" Scott shouts, but Fallon isn’t done yet. She pushes herself to her feet, her body trembling with exhaustion but her determination unwavering.

Peter chuckles darkly, wiping the blood from his mouth. “Is this all you’ve got? Three against one, and you still can’t take me down?”

The three of them run at Peter together, their attacks coordinated, but it still isn’t enough. Peter is faster, stronger, and more experienced. He blocks their blows with ease, countering with vicious strikes that send them sprawling across the room.

Fallon tries to stand again, but her body wouldn’t obey. The shift has taken too much out of her, and her strength is fading fast. She watches as Derek and Scott continue to fight, but they are losing ground.

Peter grabs Scott by the throat, lifting him off the ground just as he had with Fallon. Derek tries to intervene, but Peter swatted him away like he was nothing. “This ends now,” Peter growls, his red eyes glowing with lethal intent.

He throws Scott out of what could’ve been the only window left standing in this house. His body hits the woodsy floor with a loud crash, leaving Derek and Fallon badly beaten on the floorboards inside. Peter jumps out the window, fully transformed as he focuses his full attention on Scott. Fallon groans as she tries to crawl over to Derek who is writhing in pain on the floor. She hears a loud honk from outside and immediately gets a whiff of Stiles’ scent.

“I’ll be back,” she whispers to Derek, placing her palm on his chest. “Don’t move. Let yourself heal,” she instructs him, leaving before he could protest.

Once she exits the house, she jumps backwards as a bottle of liquid flies past her and towards Peter. A Molotov cocktail. She smiles, happy Stiles remembered that little tidbit from the night in the school. Unfortunately, Peter catches the flask with ease.

“Oh, damn…” Stiles says weakly.

Scott’s eyes travel to Allison’s bow and arrow. His golden eyes light up with an idea, “Allison!” He shouts, throwing the weapon over to her. Fallon is quick to jump out of the way as the hunter fires an arrow, hitting the glass dead on. The collision causes the flask to explode, fire encasing Peter’s form.

Everyone watches in complete horror as the man tries to put out the flames on his arm, but it’s no use. Especially when Jackson chucks another flask at him, hitting his other side. His entire body is now on fire. He growls in pain, staggering aimlessly around the front yard of his old home. Fallon would feel bad for the man, he’s about to die the same way he did the first time, but he did try to kill her and her friends countless times. Her empathy can only go so far.

She notices the flaming Alpha about to attack Allison. A low growl reverberates in her throat as she charges at him without much thought. Scott does the same, both of them striking Peter harshly, which sends him spiraling into the trees in the other direction.

Peter shifts back into his human form, his skin completely torched. Scott and Fallon heave heavily where they stand, both of them still stuck in their werewolf form. Or in Fallon’s case, what appears to be a werewolf-like form.

Inappropriately timed, Allison carefully walks over to Scott, kissing him softly. Fallon looks away, not believing after just trying to kill them that Allison has the audacity to do this. Especially in front of her hunter father.

Stiles’ eyes glaze over Fallon’s form. He lets out a relieved sigh, knowing she’s alive and well. But he’s also slightly terrified. She’s a werewolf. At least, he thinks she is. He watches as the brunette closes her eyes, sucking in a deep breath and suddenly she transforms back. Not a trace of werewolf on her. She did that a lot quicker than Scott did.

Fallon twirls in a circle, wondering if Derek ever made his way out of the house. She gets her answer when she hears leaves crunching under someone’s heavy footsteps. Her eyes snap over to Derek who is stalking towards Peter, a clear mission to accomplish.

“Derek?” She calls out softly to him. He doesn’t stop moving. He doesn’t even look back at her. She furrows her eyebrows, “What are you doing?”

He stops over his Uncle’s twitching body, straddling him. The only thing on Derek’s mind is vengeance and power. His claws protrude out where his nails should be and Scott scrambles to his feet. “Wait!” the boy begs Derek, running over to stop him. “You said the cure comes from the one who bit you. Derek, if you do this, I'm dead. Her father, her family–what am I supposed to do?”

Everyone watches tensely. Derek doesn’t even bother turning around, he just keeps his burning gaze on Peter. No one’s sure what his next move will be. Most of them hoping he chooses the path to help Scott.

“You've... already... decided…” Peter says weakly “I can smell it on you...!”

Without even a second's hesitation, Derek raises his hand in the air, claws at the ready. “Wait! No, no! Don’t!” Scott shouts, but it’s too late. Blood flies through the air from Peter’s slashed throat. The man gurgles on his own blood before the red fades from his irises, the power transferring into Derek.

Fallon’s jaw is on the floor. She takes a step back from Derek, a small amount of fear creeping up inside of her. She didn’t think Derek would kill anyone. Even though Peter was a psychotic serial killer, she still never expected Derek to take his life. Let alone for the power of an Alpha. His eyes meet hers, his once blue irises turning into a deep shade of red. One that she isn’t used to.

“I’m the Alpha now.”

· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

“Do we really think this is necessary?” Fallon asks Scott quietly as he unlocks the door to the animal clinic. “I’m really not that curious.”

“You might not be, but the rest of us are,” Scott counters. “And I think Deaton might be able to help give us some answers.”

“How could your boss possibly know what I am? Last time I checked, his specialty was dogs and cats, not were-people,” she says sarcastically.

“He knows a lot more than I do,” Scott tells her with a quickened tone. “Trust me. I think he can help.” He guides her to the back room where Deaton is already waiting. He has a small smile on his face as if he were already expecting them to come in.

"So," Deaton begins, his voice steady, “I hear you’ve had quite the night.”

Fallon offers a tired, sarcastic smirk. “You could say that.”

Scott, still trying to process everything himself, jumps in. “Deaton, you have to help her. She’s different. The way she shifted, the strength—everything’s just... different.”

Deaton’s brow furrows slightly as he looks from Scott to Fallon, his eyes narrowing thoughtfully. “Different how?”

Fallon shifts in her spot, rubbing her hands together anxiously. “I don’t know… It was like I couldn’t control it at first, but then, when I finally did, it was… intense.” She hesitates, searching for the right words. “It felt like the moon was... in me. Not just influencing me but actually... fueling me. I don’t know how else to explain it.”

Deaton leans back slightly, a rare hint of intrigue flickering across his normally composed face. “The moon was fueling you?”

Scott nods enthusiastically. “It’s not like how I turn, Deaton. She—she’s different. Like, stronger.” He pauses, “And her eyes are purple!”

Deaton moves toward one of his bookshelves, pulling down a heavy, worn tome. He places it gently on the table, opening it with care as Fallon and Scott lean in, trying to catch a glimpse of whatever knowledge the pages hold.

“I’ve read about something like this before,” Deaton says, flipping through the pages. “But only in legends. The kind of thing passed down through the ages, not meant to be believed, just stories.”

Scott’s eyes widen as he stares at the book. “Legends?”

Deaton stops on a page filled with intricate drawings and old, faded text. “Lunar Sentinels. Guardians of the moon’s power. Werewolves unlike any others, tied directly to the lunar cycle. But not just influenced by it—amplified by it. The moon’s energy flows through them, granting them heightened abilities, strength, and instincts.”

Fallon blinks, trying to absorb the gravity of what Deaton was saying. “So… that’s me? I’m a Lunar Sentinel?”

Deaton nods slowly. “It’s incredibly rare. I’ve never encountered one in my lifetime. I’ve only read about them in texts like this, and even these are more legend than fact. Most werewolves don’t have such a strong connection to the moon, but you... you’re different.”

Scott shakeshis head in disbelief. “Wait, so Fallon’s... like a werewolf, but more powerful?”

“Not necessarily more powerful, but... unique.” Deaton explains. “She’s directly tied to the moon’s energy, which can give her abilities other werewolves don’t have, particularly during certain phases of the moon. But with that power comes unpredictability.”

Fallon’s brows furrow. “Unpredictability?”

Deaton closes the book softly, his gaze meeting hers. “The stronger the connection to the moon, the more volatile it can be. You’ll need to learn control, Fallon, perhaps even more than Scott did. The moon’s phases will affect you differently, and you may find yourself stronger during full moons... and more vulnerable during new moons.”

Scott rubs the back of his neck, still processing. “So, what do we do? How do we help her?”

Deaton smiles faintly. “You’ll need to train, both of you. Fallon will have to learn how to harness this power, how to control it. The strength that comes with being a Lunar Sentinel is a gift, but without control, it could be dangerous.”

Fallon swallows, her heart pounding in her chest. The weight of everything is now suddenly overwhelming. She never asked for this, never wanted it, but now it was hers. The idea of being something so rare, so powerful, scared her as much as it intrigued her.

Scott reaches out and places a comforting hand on her shoulder. “You’re not alone in this, Fall. We’ll figure it out together.”

She nods, feeling a surge of gratitude for Scott’s unwavering support. “Thanks, Scott. I... I appreciate it.”

Deaton, ever the calm guide, stands once more. “I’ll look into more information about Lunar Sentinels, but for now, just focus on grounding yourself. The moon may fuel you, but you are in control of your own power.”

As they turn to leave, Scott couldn’t help but glance back at Deaton one last time. “This is crazy. We’re really dealing with something... legendary here, huh?”

Deaton smiles knowingly. “In Beacon Hills, Scott, legends have a way of becoming reality.”

· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

Returning home from the animal clinic felt odd to Fallon. She doesn’t know what to do with all this newfound information about herself. She barely even knew what to tell her dad about her disappearing after the formal. Thankfully, Chris Argent gave her and Scott a pretty good alibi, despite the older man pretty much hating Scott.

She collapses onto her bed, her eyes going straight up to the ceiling, “I’m a werewolf…” she mumbles.

“That’s one way to come to terms with it.”

Fallon shoots up in her bed, eyes widening as she sees Derek just casually sitting in her desk chair. He gently closes the book he was reading, his eyes meeting hers with their usual stoic glare. Yet his words have some sort of playfulness to them.

““Jesus, Derek!” she yelps, clutching her chest. “Can’t you knock like a normal person?”

He shrugs, his usual intense stare is locked on her. “I needed to see you,” he explains shortly.

Fallon rolls her eyes, her pulse still racing from the jumpscare. “Well, you scared the crap out of me. One of these days, you're going to actually give me a heart attack.”

Derek’s expression softens ever so slightly, but his eyes hold the weight of everything that had happened. “I wanted to apologize.”

Fallon frowns, crossing her arms. Apologizing isn’t exactly Derek’s thing, so whatever this is, it has to be serious. “Apologize? For what?”

“For killing Peter in front of you,” he says quietly, standing from the chair and taking a step towards her. “And for not being able to stop you from getting bitten.”

The sincerity in his voice hits her like a punch to the gut. Fallon shakes her head, trying to brush it off. “Derek, you don’t have to apologize. Peter was a psycho. I’m not exactly losing any sleep over him being dead.”

Derek’s jaw tightens, and he glances down as if weighing his next words carefully. “Still... I should’ve protected you better.”

Fallon huffs, sitting down on the edge of her bed. “I don’t need protecting, Derek. And, in case you forgot, you were kind of busy getting your ass kicked at the time. I’m not exactly holding it against you.”

Derek looked back up at her, his eyes searching hers. “You’re taking this better than I expected.”

“Being bitten and turned into a werewolf? Oh yeah, piece of cake,” Fallon remarks sarcastically, though the smile on her face told a different story. She rubs the back of her neck, trying to ease the tension. “I mean, it’s a lot to process, sure. But it’s not like I can change what happened. So, I just have to deal with it.”

Derek’s lips twitched slightly, a ghost of a smile. “You’re handling it better than most would.”

“Well, I’ve had good company,” Fallon replies, smirking. “Plus, Deaton gave me some... interesting news today.”

“About what you are?”

“Yeah,” she says, nodding, the weight of the information still settling in her mind. “Apparently, I’m not just a regular werewolf. I’m a Lunar Sentinel.”

Derek’s brow furrows, though Fallon can see a flicker of recognition in his eyes. “A Lunar Sentinel?”

“Yep, a living myth,” Fallon says with a wry smile. “Deaton said they’re rare. You know, super special. No big deal.” She shrugs with a polite brag.

Derek crosses his arms, leaning against her desk. “He’s right. Lunar Sentinels are rare... almost unheard of.”

Fallon raises an eyebrow, her grin widening. “So, you’re telling me I’m one of a kind?”

Derek’s lips quirk into a faint smile. “Always were.”

Fallon snorts. “Right. Because if there’s anything I needed on top of this whole werewolf drama, it’s a mystical title and the weight of centuries-old legends hanging over my head.”

“You’ll figure it out,” Derek says surely. “You always do.”

“I guess,” Fallon shrugs, a playful glint in her eyes. “But seriously, if I’d known turning into a werewolf would come with this much responsibility, I might’ve considered running a little faster when Peter came at me and Lydia.”

Derek’s expression shifts to something softer, almost amused. “You didn’t run.”

“Yeah, well...” Fallon waves a hand. “Maybe I should’ve.”

Derek shakes his head, stepping closer to her. “You don’t run from anything.”

Fallon glances up at him, her smirk softening into something more genuine. “Neither do you.”

For a moment, they stand in comfortable silence, the tension between them gone, replaced by something else. Something lighter.

“So,” Fallon says, breaking the silence, “are you done lurking in my room, or...?”

Derek smirks. “I don’t lurk.”

“Sure, you don’t,” Fallon teases. “Next time, try knocking. It’s a pretty standard practice among normal humans.”

“I’ll consider it,” Derek replies, the faintest hint of a smile on his face.

Fallon can’t help but laugh. “You’re impossible.”

“You’re the one that keeps letting me in,” he shoots back, his eyes flicking over her face before softening again. "But seriously, if you ever need help... with the transition, the shifting, any of it... I'm here."

Fallon nods, her teasing demeanor melting away for a moment. “Thanks, Derek.”

Derek gives her one last lingering look before turning to leave, but Fallon calls after him. “And next time, I better hear a knock!”

Derek’s only response is a faint chuckle as he disappears through the window.

*ೃ༄ tags˚◞♡ ⃗

@iamaslytherin0 @famousrunaway1329 @avengersheart @random-fangirl003 @mysticliars-blog1

[hedwig394]

I'm Not Yours

Derek Hale x Sarah McCall

Timeline: In S2E4, when Derek is training his betas, one of them tries to kiss him.

Derek's POV -

Isaac barrels towards me with a vicious look on his face. I stare at him, unfazed. Like that can scare me. He leaps at me but I push him out of the way effortlessly. Sure, the momentum makes it difficult, but not difficult enough.

Erica jumps at me from above and I toss her to the ground. She's no better. In fact, she's worse. Isaac at least has the mind to know that he isn't the best, but Erica is full of overconfidence. It's going to get her in trouble someday.

Boyd looks at from above, and cringes as both the betas fall to the ground. I know their bones are broken, they must be. Guilt creeps up my spine, but I shove it down. If I'm to teach them how to protect themselves, then they must sustain a few injuries.

"Does anyone wanna try not being completely predictable?" I ask with a frown.

It is then that Erica jumps at me. But she doesn't try to attack. Instead, she wraps her legs around my waist and presses her lips to mine. Eyes widening in shock, I push her away immediately.

"Don't ever do that again," I say, fury churning through my body. My eyes flash red and I see fear in hers, but I don't care.

I don't want to be kissed by anyone who isn't Sarah.

"Why?" She asks, scared, "Because I'm a Beta?"

"No." I say, "Because I'm Not Yours." I make sure to wipe my lips, just in case her lipstick has left a mark.

Isaac groans from beside her, uninterested in what just happened. "Are we done? I got about a hundred bones that need a few hours to heal."

I bend down in front of him and break his finger, "A hundred and one."

Isaac looks at me in shock and pain, and I hiss at him. "You think I'm teaching you to fight? Huh? Look at me! I'm teaching you how to survive! So if you don't wanna die, I suggest you take this seriously."

I stalk away from them and rush to my loft after putting my jacket on. I had promised to meet Sarah there, and I don't wanna be late. I don't want to miss even a single minute I have with her. Her brother thinks that it's just him who has to do a lot just to see his girlfriend, but he's wrong.

I have to do twice as much just to catch a glimpse of Sarah.

She waits at me at the loft, her long hair flowing behind her because of the wind.

"Angel..." I say. It's one of the few nicknames I have for her, another main one being 'honey'. She turns around and looks at me. Joy fills her eyes and she rushes towards me, throwing her arms around me. She doesn't care that I smell like tar and dirt, doesn't care that the dirt is all over my clothes and face.

I wrap my arms around her, breathing in the scent of her sweet-smelling hair. I kiss her cheek and all the emotions I've bottled down almost spill out. No, I can't let that happen. I have to stay strong for her.

She steps back and looks at me with tearful eyes. I pull her towards me and kiss her deeply, savouring the flavour and taste of her soft lips. She opens her mouth and I slip my tongue inside, exploring her mouth. She tastes like the sweet fruit at the end of countless hardships.

Sarah tastes like mine. There's not a lot I can call mine, but Sarah is mine. And I'll be damned to let anyone hurt her or take her away from me.

And the moan she gives makes me wanna carry her inside and show her just that.

But I have to keep the lust in control since I'd rather talk to her and hold her in my arms in those few stolen moments we have together than have sex with her.

I draw my head to let her catch her breath. I can go on for longer, werewolf lungs and all. But she's human. My human.

I caress her cheek gently and press a kiss to her forehead. "I've missed you, my Angel."

"I've missed you too, Sourwolf." She sniffs.

"Come on," I say, "Let's go inside."

She slips her hand in mine and we walk inside the loft. Sarah beams at the simple arrangement of the place and looks at me. "I've missed coming here."

"I know, I'm sorry," I say ruefully. The loft has not been the same without her. After we got together officially, Sarah used to hang out at the loft frequently. At one point, she was living with me. Those were the best days of my life. Just being with her, inside her and spending time in her presence gave me more happiness than anything else.

But then Gerard Argent showed up along with his pack of Hunters. I turned Isaac and Erica, and Sarah's brother started to hate me. I don't care, Scott's a child. He'll understand the ways of the world after growing up.

But unknowingly, that caused a rift between me and Sarah. It was too unsafe for her to be with me, with hunters prowling around and an unknown beast to add to the list. I know how low Gerard can sink, he can threaten and hurt Sarah just to get to me.

I once had a thought of breaking up with her for her own safety, but she had said to me "I'll carve your heart out with a scalpel and keep it as a prized possession if you ever do that." And that had led to a passionate make-out session.

"Derek..." Sarah's voice makes me look at her. But she isn't looking at me, she's staring at my jacket. "Why do you smell like women's perfume?"

Aah, that is Erica's fault. "Oh, it's nothing. I was going to tell you." I begin casually, but she looks anything but casual. Sarah's glaring at me like she never has before, and I gulp. "Angel, believe me, it's not what you think."

"Then what is it?" She hisses viciously, and at that moment, I can't help but admire how strong and confident she looks.

Right, back to the point.

I explain everything to her, starting from training to the point where Erica kissed me, and at the end, Sarah looks like she could commit first-degree murder. "I pushed her away immediately," I say, desperation clawing at my insides. Will she believe me?

Sarah glares at me. Then, she looks at her feet with a sigh. "Do you like her, Derek?"

"No!" I exclaim, aghast. "Honey, she's my beta, and she's also underage. I don't like her. I don't like anyone but you."

She doesn't look at me. "It's fine, Derek. If you don't like me anymore. I get it. It's been a hard couple of months. And I understand if you wanna be with me. Maybe a werewolf will be better for you."

"Sarah," I ball my hand into a fist. "Look at me."

She doesn't budge, and I gently lift her chin up. Her warm, chocolate eyes meet my werewolf red. She looks a bit frightened, and I wrap my arm around her, pulling her hard against me.

"Look at me, Angel." I growl, "You're the only one I like, the only one I want. So don't even think for a second that I'll look at anyone else the way I look at you."

"I'm sorry," She says and my eyes go back to the usual green. "It's been so hard recently, so I thought that you'd give up and...." She looks at me worriedly, "Start looking for someone else."

"Sarah," I say calmly, "It's been very hard, yes. But I'm not giving up on you. On us. It's you for me, Angel."

Sarah gives me a shaky smile, and I continue, "And as for Erica, I pushed her away immediately and warned her to not do that again. You know why?"

She looks at me expectantly and I kiss her softly. "Because I'm not hers, Angel. I'm yours."

Masterlist

[cmncisspnandmore]

Masterlist

Last Updated: 5/28/2024

Fair warning to anyone who reads some of the series on here, a lot of them are unfinished, I started writing them years ago. I may go back and finish some of them, i may not. If there is a series you find that you enjoy that is unfinished let me know!

ALL FICS ARE FEMALE READER UNLESS OTHERWISE STATED. (I am more than happy to write all other kinds of readers, I fully support LGBTQIA+on this blog.)

One Shots

Spencer Reid: Stir Crazy Alone Late Nights Bothered Dr. Reid? What Should I Reid? Bookworms (Male!Reader) You're Dating Who?! Home Silent Moments Turned Tables

David Rossi: Homework Pile Up (Daughter!Reader)

Aaron Hotchner: Ruined (Platonic!Reader) Soothing Voices

Series

Spencer Reid: Mistakes Were Made; 1,2,3,4 Boy Wonder and Family Prequel; 1,2 Boy wonder and Family; 1,2,3, Don't Let Me Go; 1,2,3,4,5

Blurbs

Headcannons

One shots

Dean Winchester: Baby Mine

Sam Winchester: Living Blood Bank S'pise

Sam and Dean Winchester: Without you

Blurbs

Headcannons

One shots

Simon "Ghost" Riley Don't Own Me Bittersweet Troublesome Feelings

Keegan P Russ Brothers Best Friend

Series

Poly!Task Force 141 All Hands On Deck, 2, 3

Simon "Ghost" Riley One Night Stand: 1 ,2,3,4 5,6,7,8

Captain John Price Coming Home To You: 1,2,3

Blurbs

Simon "Ghost" Riley Faking his own death Money Teenage Daughter Simon hates seeing you cry, "Yeah i think you're hot," Not Coming Home

John "Soap" MacTavish Hopeless Flirt Coming home from a long mission Sundresses and Sorrow

Simon Riley X John Mactavish X Reader Dad!Simon and Dad!Johnny, missing gear.

Captain John Price Tarmac and Tears

Requests

Simon "Ghost" Riley Body Image Freckles Control

Headcannons

Oneshots

Stiles Stilinski Study Breaks

Series

Blurbs

Headcannons

[rogerswifesblog]

Christmas bingo!

Hi, I’ve decided to create s little bingo for y’all!😌 it wasn’t planned and @jamneuromain helped me with some ideas for it but I hope you’ll like it! I hope it’ll get my blog to be a bit more ‘alive’ again after my ‘break’:)

Okay, how does it work;

You send me an ask/or reblog this with the chosen topics and characters you’d like me to write for. And if it’s smut/angst/fluff. ❤️ (I’d also appreciate a summary or idea of what you’d like to read in the one shot / Drabble! ❤️I can also create some moodboards if you want:))

And that’s it! :)

Characters I write for:

🎄CE characters

🎄SS characters

🎄 any pairing between CE x SS characters (for example simply Steve x Bucky or if you want to be adventurous Andy x TJ!😇)

🎄 Teen Wolf characters: Derek Hale, Peter Hale, Stiles Stilinski, Isaac Lahey

🎄Harry Potter: George Weasley, Fred Weasley, Remus Lupin, Sirius Black

🎄 You can always text me and ask if I’m comfortable writing for a different character:)

Taglist: @rogersbarber @inlovewithchrisevans

[hannya-writes]

Masterlist II

Harry Potter Universe

Something Wicked this way comes (Percival Graves x reader)

Something Wicked this Way Comes (Part II) (Percival Graves x reader)

Deleramentum (Sirius Black x reader)

Chapter I

Chapter II

• • •

Once Upon a Time

Your home Is Were I am (Jefferson x Reader)

Almost Magical. (Jefferson x Reader)

Jefferson’s Happy Ending (Jefferson x Reader)

• • •

Star Wars

Obi Wan Kenobi

Only you

A White Demon Love Song

The Promise

Why would you ask that?

Melting Waltz

By Her Side

I’ve Always known

Before Our Masters Found us

Is this a Dream?

You are my friend, right?

Even in Death...

Forget

Offspring

• • •

Supernatural

It’s Our Daughter, Cas (Castiel x Reader)

Gone Angel (Dean Winchester x Reader)

Summon the Father (Dean Winchester x Reader)

• • •

Teen Wolf

Your Kind (Part I) (Derek Hale x reader)

I like you the way you are (Derek Hale x Reader)

• • •

Law and Order SVU/Marvel Multiverse

Wanna see a trick?

Don´t Tell Anyone (Requested) (Carisi x Reader)

Two Mistakes (Billy Russo x Reader)

Supernatural/The Walking Dead

Stop coming by (Negan x Reader)

Genshin Impact

The Broken Contract (Morax x Reader)

Sandbearer (Morax x Reader)

Destressing (Alhaitham x Reader)

Solo Leveling

Bonus Stage (Sung Jin Woo x Reader)

Shadow exchange (Sung Jin Woo x Reader)

Hero Killer (Webtoon)

Hc about Engen (Engen x Reader)

Continue to Masterlist I

[soulofapatrick]

Loves Antidote - Derek Hale x Reader

Summary: You were affected more than the others in the crypt during the events of ‘Weaponised’

Words: 1.2k 

Warnings: None

Y/N’s POV

I can hear Scott moving after Kira tells him what Stiles’ muffled voice yells. He’s reaching for the jar and moments later there’s a crash, I’m gasping for air, feeling like I can breathe finally. My vision is returning and my muscles are finally reacting to me but it’s slower than the others who are already up and on their feet, Malia by my side as she has to pull me to my feet while Scott gets the door open. 

I’m clinging to her, my legs struggling to move and Stiles is suddenly on my other side, the pair of them helping me regain the strength to stumble forwards with my weight being held by them. They’re leading me down the empty hallways of the high school, towards the exit where I can hear myriads of people talking, yelling and preparing for our exit. I know dad’s gonna be out there, Stiles knows he is too, as he’s the sheriff but I’m resisting as I don’t want him to see me like this. He has enough on his plate. 

“Y/N, please, you need help.” Stiles is urging, voice filled with concern. His grip around my ribs tightening, determination shining through his wide and worried eyes as I lull my head in his direction. I can hear Scott and Kira trying to find the others, checking on teachers and students alike while Stiles and Malia want to get me to Melissa who I can hear bustling about outside. I can hear dad too and there’s another voice. It sends my heart pounding and Malia is sending me a concerned look as she can hear how fast my heart is beating. 

I try to push the pain aside and focus on that voice, knowing he’s just outside. I want to get to him before I even think about Melissa and getting help. I need him. Together, the three of us stagger through the double doors, the taste of freedom so sweet and the sun temporarily blinds me but I can smell him. Three voices call my name: Dad, Melissa and him. The strange mixture of musk, something slightly spicy like oranges and vanilla fills my senses as my eyes try to adjust to the blinding brightness. My knees are giving in and I’m falling until the pair get a better grip on me. 

The sound of pounding feet feel like gunshots in my head but the scent of him coming closer and closer spurs me on, giving me the strength to push Stiles and Malia away. My already aching body collides with solid and strong arms are wrapping around me, the smell of him is almost overwhelming it’s so intoxicating. The cool and smooth leather of his jacket against my skin is a stark contrast to the feverish heat pulsating through my body. 

“Derek.” My voice cracks and sounds raw even to my own ears, Derek’s arms tightening protectively around me. The emotions radiating from him prickle my eyes and before I know it I’m burying my face in his shirt, trying to staunch the onslaught of tears. 

“Shhhh, it’s okay sweetheart,” Derek’s voice soothes, a gentle balm to my shattered nerves, his words washing over me like a healing salve. His arms providing a haven of safety and comfort as I cling to him like a lifeline, seeking solace in his unwavering presence. His lips pressing against my temple calms me even more, a tender kiss that ignites a flicker of hope within me. I can feel the softness of his touch, the warmth of his breath against my skin, and it’s as if the world narrows down to this single point of connection. 

As his hand moves in slow, gentle strokes, shooting down my hair, a sense of tranquility washes over me. It’s as if he’s leaving a sense of calm back into the frayed edges of my being, the tremors in my legs begin to subside and the fog surrounding my mind begins to dissipate. The ache and pain is still there and I still feel weak, like I’m going to collapse if Derek lets me go but I know he won’t, especially when the hand that was on my hair moves to cup my jaw, pad of his thumb gliding across my cheekbone gently, a surge of warmth and reassurance following it. 

I’m pushing myself away enough to meet those kaleidoscope eyes, seeing the depth of his concern and care reflected in them. It’s a silent understanding that passes between us, a recognition of the need for me to heal and the inability for my body to do it. And as his thumb continues its soothing motion, I feel that spark of hope ignited within me grow into a flame or two. 

Then, as if guided by an unspoken agreement, Derek is drawing me up into a kiss - a gentle and tender meeting of our lips. It’s a moment that transcends words, the kiss a conduit for my healing and I feel it. With each press of our lips, I can feel the ache slowly fading and my legs stand steadier, the weariness that had taken over my body replaced by something else. It’s sweet on my tongue as Derek’s arm around my waist pulls me closer and the one of my cheek tilts my head to deepen the kiss more. 

Our breaths mingle, a symphony of shared exhales that carry the weight of something new and something good. It’s in the event meeting of our mouths that I find solace, a sanctuary where healing takes root and blooms. The sensation of his lips moving against mine is electrifying and breathtaking all at once. 

Someone is clearing their throat, startling me and pulling me away from Derek, my eyes flickering open to find Dad standing there, a mixture of sternness and amusement playing across his features. While his words carry a reprimand, there’s a twinkle in his eyes that betrays his true feelings. The corners of my lips curling into a sheepish smile, and Derek’s arm remains securely around my waist.

“Okay, okay, I think that’s enough,” Dad asserts, his voice firm but indeed with an undertone of lightheartedness, “Those healing vein things have gone, none of that in front of me thank you.” 

I can’t help but let out a small chuckle, feeling a mix of embarrassment and affection for Dad’s protectiveness. With a gentle squeeze of Derek’s hand, I start to disentangle myself from his embrace, though the warmth of his touch still lingers on my skin. Derek lets out a growl deep in his throat when Stiles moves towards me, his cheeks turning a brilliant shade of red as he clears his throat and squeaks out an embarrassed, “Sorry.” 

“Derek,” Dad turns his attention to the very embarrassed werewolf, “I want you to take her home and make sure she is okay. You do not leave her side until either Jordan or I come home, I want nothing like this to happen again.” 

“Yes Sir.” 

“Good lad.” 

                           ┈ ✁✃✁✃✁✃✁✃✁ ┈

Teen Wolf Masterlist

TAGS: Tag List Form

@bellabadacadabra

[ellswritings]

Formality 1x11

Episode 12

“Call it again,” Scott orders his friends as he jumps up from the floor. The boy somehow managed to lose his phone within the last twenty four hours from when they were together. He’s checked under his bed about a thousand times, making Stiles and Fallon roll their eyes. If he didn’t find it the first time, he’s not gonna find it now. They tried to help him look for the first hour and a half, but eventually gave up.

Fallon presses the call button on her phone, a loud ringing echoing throughout the room. Unfortunately, that’s the only sound reverberating in the small space. Scott’s ringtone is not heard by any of them. There wasn’t even the loud vibrating noise it usually makes.

Fallon readjusts the white turtleneck she’s wearing, the fabric feeling slightly suffocating. The brunette is going to be stuck wearing this style of shirt for a while. At least until Derek’s handprint fades from her neck. He left bruises scattered across it, which would definitely raise a few eyebrows if anyone she loves saw it. She really didn’t want to answer any questions, or to see the pity in Scott and Stiles’ eyes when she told them. Fallon herself didn’t even want to talk about it. Reliving it just makes her want to punch Derek more. The fact he didn’t even try to apologize also infuriates her to no end.

“It’s not here, Scotty,” Fallon sighs, her voice sounding almost tight. Like Derek managed to dent her vocal chords or something.

“You know, so what, you lost your phone,” Stiles tries to say positively. “Why don’t you just get a new one?”

“I can’t afford a new one,” Scott groans frustratedly, still fervently searching his bedroom. “And I can’t do this alone. We have to find Derek.” He glances at Fallon with a hopeful look, “Have you been able to get ahold of him?” He asks, walking closer to the two.

Fallon shrugs, “I texted him.”

“That’s it?” Stiles scoffs. “You texted him? Seriously?” He narrows his eyes at her. “I thought you would’ve been over the moon that you were given the job of reaching out to him. And all you do is text him?”

“Yes, Stiles,” Fallon responds, annoyed. “All I did was text him. He’s probably not gonna answer me anyway. You’d have better luck getting Peter to call him if you want a response.” She looks back at Scott, “Plus, didn’t you say he walked into gunfire?” Scott nods. “Probably not in the position to be answering text messages then,” she says.

Scott shakes his head, “Argent's plan was to use him to get to the Alpha. They wouldn’t risk killing him.”

“All right, so then, just let them do what they're planning, you know? They use Derek to find Peter, problem solved.” Stiles says with a nonchalant shrug.

“Not if Peter’s going after Allison to find Derek!” Scott exclaims frustratedly. “I can’t protect her on my own which means we either find Derek first–” he stops, stammering as he tries not to picture what will happen if they don’t find Derek. “Just-just help me!” He shouts, going through the minimal miscellaneous items he has on his dresser. He tosses a toy basketball backwards, knocking Fallon in the head.

She glares at him, fighting the urge to chuck the ball back at his head. “You know, you probably lost it when you two were fighting,” Fallon brings up passive aggressively. Most of it towards Derek. “Remember? When he was trying to kill you for trying to save Jackson from also being killed by him. Anyone else noticing his pattern of violent behavior? Or just me?”

“Since when do you say anything negative about Derek?” Stiles furrows his eyebrows.

Scott groans loudly, “He wasn’t actually going to kill anyone,” he defends. “And I’m not letting him die.”

Fallon believes that Derek is still buried in his mind, just under the control of Peter. She knows even despite his cold hard exterior, he wouldn’t actually let Peter hurt someone innocent if he could help it. She doesn’t necessarily want him to die either, but maybe a couple hours of torture would serve him right after crawling through her window just to assault her.

Stiles huffs exasperatedly, “Could you at least think about letting him die?” He requests with a pout. “For me?”

Fallon tosses the basketball up in the air and sighs, “No, Stiles… Unfortunately that isn’t considered ‘morally correct.’ We have to save him.”

“This whole hot and cold thing towards him is making me very confused,” Stiles tells her.

Scott continues to rummage through his things as his other two friends just sit in their own separate chairs, arms crossed. Scott wants to save Derek, Stiles doesn’t, and Fallon is somewhere in the morally gray area. Normally, she would side with Scott, but today apparently isn’t the day.

Suddenly Scott’s head cocks to the side, his face visibly falling. Stiles and Fallon notice this, figuring he must be hearing something from outside. “What’s wrong?” Fallon asks him tentatively.

“My mom just got home from work,” he tells them dejectedly.

“Is she okay?” Stiles asks worriedly, sitting up straighter. Scott shakes his head. “What’s she doing?”

The werewolf slowly moves away from his desk, looking down at the ground sadly. “Crying,” he mumbles.

There’s a moment of silence shared between the three of them. None of them like to hear when Melissa is upset. Fallon stands up, walking over to put her hand on Scott’s back. “It’s not your fault, Scott,” she whispers.

The boy moves away from her touch as he goes to sit down on his bed. His frantic mood from mere seconds ago has completely vanished. Stiles sighs, trying to find the right words to comfort his friend. “Scott, you can’t protect everyone.”

Scott barely looks up at the two of them, “I have to.” He insists.

· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

Fallon walks into the school after her free period. She’s been spending most of her day with Allison, still paranoid about Derek’s warning/threat. She has lacrosse practice this afternoon with the boys and then afterwards she’s going shopping with Lydia and Allison. In her hand are two Starbucks cups, one of them containing Allison’s favorite beverage. She grunts when her phone buzzes and she pulls out the device.

It’s a message from Stiles, You’re gonna be in seventh period right?

Yeah. What’s up? She replies, setting the drinks down in her locker as sixth period hasn’t ended just yet.

I may or may not have forgotten to do the homework…

Fallon can’t help but smile even though she rolls her eyes. Gimme a sec. I’ll send them to you.

I literally love you more than life itself. Stiles texts overdramatically. Btw have you managed to get a hold of Derek? Scott’s asking.

I haven’t talked to Derek at all, no. Do you want me to try calling him again? She asks, hoping he tells her not to worry about it.

If you could, yeah.

She bites the inside of her cheek. Of course he wants her to. She fights off the urge to rip out her eyes and reluctantly plugs in Derek’s phone number. It rings as expected and goes directly to voicemail. Sometimes she thinks the number he gave her is fake. She’s skeptical that he even has a phone in the first place. His voicemail is also not set up, so after the female automated voice is done telling her to leave a message, she does just that.

“Hey, Derek. It’s me. Again. I know you’ve probably got your whole ‘brooding lone wolf’ thing going on right now, but maybe you could break that habit and actually pick up your phone for once. Just a thought.” She comments sarcastically, grabbing the homework for her next class that she can send to Stiles.

“Anyway, Scott, Stiles, and I have been trying to reach you because, surprise, Peter is getting even more psychotic than usual. Scott’s worried Peter’s going to come after Allison to find you, and, you know, we’re all kind of invested in keeping people alive. So, if you could let us know you’re not dead in a ditch somewhere, that’d be great.”

There’s a pause, and Fallon sighs, frustration creeping into her tone.

“Also, in case you forgot after your whole threat debacle thing the other night, Peter wants me to get close to the Argents. So, yeah, I’m working on that. I’m trying to cozy up to the family of hunters that, oh right, could kill us all at any moment. Just thought you should know since you’re the one who got me into this mess in the first place.”

Her voice softens a bit, though the passive-aggression remains. “Look, Derek… I get it. You’ve got your reasons for working with Peter. And I’m not thrilled about it, as you can probably tell. But… if you’re in over your head or if something’s wrong, you can’t just shut us out. I’m still trying to figure out why I even care, but—" Another pause. “Just… be careful, okay? Wherever you are. Call me back, please. I—”

She cuts herself off, frustrated with herself for caring so much. “Just… let me know you’re alive.”

The voicemail ends with a soft click.

She closes her eyes, sucking in a deep breath as she tries to shake off the emotions swirling inside of her. She readjusts her purple turtleneck, the bruises still pretty prominent. She doesn’t know how she’s going to hide them at lacrosse practice.

That’s when the bell finally rings and the brunette grabs the notebook she needs and her two coffees before bed-lining it towards Allison’s locker. By the time she gets there, Allison is just putting in her combination. Fallon smoothly slides up next to her, leaning on the locker door next to Allison’s holding up the drinks with a wide smile.

“I come bearing gifts.”

Allison turns to look at her and her eyes light up at the sight of caffeine. “You got me a coffee?” She asks brightly, not expecting the touching gesture.

“Of course I did,” Fallon grins, handing her the cup with her designated drink. “You’re my best girl friend. And I figured you could use a little bit of pick me up before dress shopping later with Lydia,” she giggles. “I don’t know how she does it, but she can genuinely walk through Macy’s for a solid six hours without breaking a sweat.”

Allison gratefully takes the drink, using her free arm to pull Fallon in for a hug. “You’re the best, seriously. You have no idea how much I appreciate this.” She takes a sip of her coffee, “I’ve been having a hard time sleeping, so…”

Fallon furrows her eyebrows, a concerned look taking over her face. “How come?”

Her lips form in a tight line but she just shakes her head. “Just a lot going on. I’m fine though, really.” She nods, but Fallon doesn’t believe a word that just came out of her mouth.

Fallon wants to push for more information, but doesn’t want to come across as overbearing. She feels a couple of eyes on her and briefly glances down the hallway. She sees Scott and Stiles peeking their heads around the corner, checking to make sure that Fallon is still glued to Allison’s side. Her two best friends think that she’s staying with Allison so Peter doesn’t try to take her, but she has her own reasons as well. She hasn’t told them about Derek or Peter’s threat, but she’s been trying to protect Allison while simultaneously getting dirt on her family.

Fallon sips her own latte before looking up at Allison, “So, are you going to the formal?” She asks curiously.

“I want to,” She admits. “Jackson asked me to go as friends the other day, but we haven’t really finished talking about it. And I know Lydia wants to go with some jock, but I don’t really wanna be a third wheel.”

“I wouldn’t either,” Fallon agrees. “I definitely don’t blame you.”

“Has anyone asked you?” Allison glances at her, turning from her locker for a moment.

Fallon nods slowly while rubbing the back of her neck, “Yeah, actually… Scott did.” Allison’s eyes shoot as wide as saucers which makes Fallon break out into a fit of laughter. She wanted to keep the charade up for a couple seconds longer, but her face was too priceless to hold back from. “I’m kidding. But someone did ask me. He’s actually the guy I sit next to in my creative writing class,” she admits shyly.

Allison shoots her a hopeful smile, “Be my date instead?” She asks with her gorgeous doe eyes.

Fallon huffs, feeling torn between saying yes to her gorgeous friend or to the cute guy in her writing class. She hasn’t gone out on a date pretty much ever. So the appeal of going with the guy who asked her is very strong. But she could never leave Allison hanging.

“Of course I’ll be your date,” Fallon grins. “Now we just gotta match our dress colors later today and it’ll be perfect.”

“Yes!” Allison claps. “Okay, this is going to be so much fun.”

Fallon’s eyes travel down the hallway once more, falling on her spastic best friend. “I know you said Lydia already decided to go with one of the guys on the lacrosse team, but… do you think we could convince her to ditch him for Stiles?” She asks with a small smirk. She watches as Scott leans over to whisper what Fallon had just done and Stiles begins to rapidly shake his head.

“Oh my gosh, wait, that would be perfect,” Allison smiles. “He would treat her so much better than the loser that asked her.” Allison goes to shut her locker so they can walk to their final class together, but Jackson sliding up to the empty space where her locker door was prevents them from going anywhere.

His eyes are wild and a bead of sweat drips down his forehead. He looks terrified and once Fallon sees Scott snickering from afar, she knows it was his doing. “Hey,” he greets anxiously. “What time should I pick you up for the dance tomorrow?”

Allison tilts her head curiously, but nonetheless smiles, “Are you okay?”

Jackson nods, despite his body trembling where he stands. He readjusts his backpack strap, feeling the need to fidget. “Yeah, I-I'm great! I'm just excited to go to the formal. With you. As friends. Just friends. Just-just friends.”

Allison nods in agreement which forces Jackson to walk away, mumbling something under his breath as he goes. She should’ve figured this would’ve been something Scott would do. He’s not allowed to be there, so the next best option of protection would be Jackson.

“Well, that solves the whole date debacle,” Fallon loops her arm through Allison’s.

“I’ll tell him no if you still want to go together,” Allison says seriously. “You come first.”

Fallon waves her off, “No, don’t worry about me. I want you to have fun, and if you want to go with Jackson, you should.”

“Then you should at least say yes to the guy in your class,” Allison persists. “That way you, me, and Lydia can all have dates.”

“You know what?” Fallon smiles giddily. “I think I will. I have his number so I could call him.”

“Do it!” Allison encourages with a nod. “Class can wait. This takes priority,” she bumps her side playfully.

“Okay, okay, I’m doing it.”

· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

Stiles stands at the Macy’s perfume counter which is near all the dress racks, smelling each and every bottle on display. Fallon watches with an amused look, shaking her head as he sneezes because of one of the particularly strong scents. He insisted on smelling the cheap, off-brand section before moving over to the more expensive ones. She told him not to even bother with the cheap stuff as Lydia would never wear it, but he was very persistent.

Fallon grabs Stiles wrist as he goes to spray one of the bottles in the air to smell it. She hands him one of the small papers designated for said purpose and he makes an ‘o’ shape with his mouth. He nods, spraying the bottle before sniffing it and cringing. He hacks loudly, “Okay, absolutely not. I’d kill you and then myself if you ever wore something like that.” He shakes his head. “I promise I’ll find you the perfect perfume for tomorrow,” he swears. “And for Lydia.” He picks up a strawberry shaped bottle. “Do you think she’ll like this one? It matches her hair.”

“Sti, I already told you,” Fallon giggles. “She’s not gonna like these ones. The better smelling ones are on the other side.”

“Okay, but I’m still not done with these,” he points to the wide array of colored bottles. “If you want me to get done quicker, maybe you should help a friend out and start sniffing for me,” he instructs, pointing to the other side.

Fallon huffs but doesn’t bother hiding the smile on her face as she goes to smell the more expensive perfumes. The girl bops her head along to the pop music playing throughout the retail store. She moves down the line of bottles, taking note of the ones she knows Lydia would like. Her and Allison have yet to get there. Fallon and Stiles wanted to get there a little bit early so she could help him pick out a suit and he could help her a bit with the dresses. She didn’t want to be completely clueless when Lydia and Allison got here. Unfortunately, Stiles was practically useless as every dress he pulled out for her was far too short and risqué for a school dance. He practically begged her to put on a green dress that barely went over her thighs and was completely backless.

Finally after what felt like forever, she found a small purple glass bottle. She sprayed a small bit of it and immediately fell in love with the scent. It smells like something a royal would wear. Lydia would love it. She holds it up, “What about this one?” She suggests. Stiles leans forward and smells it. He immediately nods his head in approval, sending her a thumbs up.

Right at that moment, the ladies of the hour come up the escalator. Fallon smiles as she runs over to Lydia and Allison, pulling them both on for a hug. Lydia looks slightly less thrilled than Allison, no doubt because the latter just revealed she would have to go to the dance with Stiles. She might be disappointed now, but Fallon knows Lydia will have the best time with him. Stiles is a great guy.

Soon enough, Lydia drags Stiles off towards the dress racks, immediately using him as her own personal hanger as she selects multitudes of different dresses. Fallon and Allison go off with each other, giggling as they jokingly hold up the most posh looking dresses to their bodies.

Lydia definitely has the most dresses chosen out of the three of them. Fallon has two draped over her arm and even then she’s not completely sold on either of them. She had some ideas of what she wanted, but so far she’s just grabbing what she thinks looks good. Her eyes are drawn to a light pink floor length gown, sparkles embroidered all around it with a slit on the side. She grabs it off the rack, a content feeling filling her chest. This is definitely the one.

She turns on her heel to show it to Allison, but the girl isn’t there. She must’ve gone off to find her own dress. Fallon moves through the racks and different people, trying to find her friend. She keeps her eye out for a head of luscious brown hair, but ends up being met with the icy blue stare of the exact person she didn’t want to see. Peter.

And he’s talking to Allison.

Fury and fear burns in Fallon’s gut as she marches over to where they’re standing. Allison is standing in front of a mirror, holding a dress in her hand as Peter’s predatory gaze beats down on her. When she stops, she pretty much puts herself in between Allison and the Alpha. A fake smile is plastered across her lips as she looks at her friend, “Everything okay here?”

Allison nods, nervously tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. “Um, yeah. He was just helping me out finding colors that match my skin tone.”

“Yeah, I’m sure he was,” Fallon says rather aggressively, her eyes never leaving Peter’s.

The man simply smirks, sensing her uneasiness. But it does please him to see Fallon taking his threat seriously. “This is nice. Shopping for dresses with friends is always a good time. Let me guess, high school dance?” He quirks a brow, trying to act as if he’s some normal person making conversation.

“Formal,” Allison answers, still trying to be kind despite being uncomfortable.

Fallon grabs Allison’s hand, turning more defensive as Peter doesn’t seem to be grasping the hint. She’s here to protect Allison for Scott. That’s her priority right now. Peter can clearly see her trying to grow closer to the family, so he needs to take his leave. “Listen, I think we can handle this from here. I’m sure you have better things to do than question two teenage girls about dresses.”

Before he can retaliate with a response, a female voice echoes over the intercom, stopping the song that was playing throughout the store. “Attention shoppers... To the owner of a blue Mazda, license plate–”

Allison tenses as she looks at Fallon, “Did she just say a blue Mazda?”

Fallon ignores the announcement completely, keeping her eyes on Peter the entire time. He seems to revel in the attention, only smirking whenever he decides to meet her fiery gaze. She feels like a double agent. Fighting against Peter while also helping him get to the Argents. But as of right now, her only concern is making sure he doesn’t touch a hair on Allison’s head.

“–5768. Your car is being towed.”

“That’s my car!” Allison realizes before taking off towards the escalator to try and save her vehicle.

That leaves Fallon alone with Peter. Every part of her body is screaming at her to turn the other way, to simply walk in the other direction, or call out for Stiles. Just so that she’s not alone with him, but something about his eyes holds her in place and keeps her mouth shut. A fake smile etches its way onto his lips. He reaches forward, lightly caressing the dress on her arm. “While I do believe this will look absolutely exemplary on you… don’t you think there are more pressing matters to attend to than dress shopping?” He enunciates the last two words, running his slimy hand over the glittery fabric.

“You told me to get close to the Argents,” Fallon replies through her own tense smile as she pretends to be having a conversation with someone she likes to avoid suspicious looks from other customers. “That's what I’m doing.”

“Oh, no. No, no, no,” Peter chuckles. “You were already close with Allison long before this. As far as I can tell, this is just two friends spending time together,” his fake smile drops. “I want you to get close to all of them. Specifically her psychotic aunt.”

Fallon feels her breath catch, her heart pounding against her ribs. “Kate?” She echoes in almost disbelief. “How the hell do you expect me to do that? She’s not exactly approachable. I’ve been to Allison’s house a thousand times and I’ve had maybe one conversation with the woman.”

“Then make yourself useful and figure it out,” Peter responds coldly, closing the distance between them in one swift movement. “Find a way. Get into her good graces. Charm her, manipulate her, I don’t care. Just do it.”

Fallon swallows hard, her fingers gripping the fabric of the dress tighter as she feels the familiar chill of fear creeping up her spine. She’s trapped. She’s known for a while now that Peter has a plan for her, but this new directive feels more dangerous, more impossible.

“And if I don’t?” she whispers, her voice barely audible.

Peter’s sinister grin returns, his expression hardening as he steps even closer, his presence suffocating. He reaches out, yanking her closer to him so he can whisper . The threat is clear in his touch.

“Then I’ll have no choice but to take matters into my own hands,” he murmurs, his voice low and menacing. His eyes flicker to the quickening pulse on her wrist, his fingers tracing lightly along her skin. “You wouldn’t want me to bite you, Fallon. Not unless you’re prepared for what comes after.”

Her breath hitches, fear pooling in her chest as his words sink in. She knows he isn’t bluffing. Fallon has seen what Peter is capable of—felt his power firsthand. The idea of being bitten, of becoming one of them, terrifies her more than she can admit.

“I-I’m trying,” she stammers, barely able to maintain eye contact. “I just—Kate’s different. I don’t know how to get close to her.”

Peter’s voice is soft, but the danger laced within it is obvious. “Then you’d better discover how. Quickly.”

Fallon’s mind races, panic blooming in her chest as she searches for anything to say, any excuse that might buy her time. But the cold reality is settling in: she’s running out of options, and Peter knows it.

“You don’t have long,” he continues, his fingers sliding up from her wrist to rest on her shoulder, deceptively gentle. “Kate knows more than she lets on. If you can’t get information from her, I will—and I won’t be so polite about it.”

The threat hangs heavy in the air between them, and Fallon feels like she’s suffocating under the weight of it. “I don’t think I need to remind you what happens to those who fail me,” he says, his tone giving anyone who could be listening a fake sense of security. “You have until the dance to get me what I need, or consider that your last night as a human.”

The gravity of his words hits her like a punch to the gut, and Fallon feels a wave of cold fear wash over her. She can’t bring herself to say anything, her throat tight with the realization of just how deeply she’s caught in this web.

“I’ll… I’ll figure it out,” she whispers, her voice shaky, barely more than a breath. She hates the way it sounds—so small, so scared—but there’s nothing else she can do.

Peter gives her one last satisfied smirk before turning toward the door. “Good girl,” he says over his shoulder, the words dripping with condescension. “I knew you’d see things my way.”

And with that, he’s gone, leaving Fallon standing frozen in place, her pulse still racing, fear and dread twisting in her stomach.

“Oh, and tell Scott while I am impressed with his ingenuity… he can’t be everywhere all the time.” He starts to walk out towards the escalators, “It’s either you or Allison, and considering Scott’s track record when it comes to saving you or her. I’d be a little worried.”

· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

Fallon exhales shakily as she steps out of her vehicle and walks up to the Lahey residence. Issac originally was supposed to pick her up from her house for the dance, but his father forbade him from using the car under the impression that Issac was lying about having a date. Luckily, Michael was more than understanding and allowed Fallon to use his car for the night since he didn’t have to work. She would’ve taken her bike but figured it wouldn’t be best in such a long dress.

She knocks on the front door and is met with a muffled string of profanities before the door swings open. She immediately gets a whiff of the whiskey on the breath of who she assumes is Mr. Lahey. The man’s eyes widen when he sees Fallon standing in the doorway.

Peter was right, the dress looks absolutely exemplary on her. The pink shine compliments her perfectly, the light dusting of eye shadow matching the color of the dress. Her heels are only about an inch off the ground and completely white with no stains. She forwent putting on lipstick and stuck with a light layer of chapstick to give her lips a glossy shine. Her hair is left down and curled, small braids wrapping around the crown of her head to make her appear more elegant.

“Dad–” She hears Issac’s frustrated voice as he clambers towards the door. “I said I got it.”

“Yeah, well I got it too,” Mr. Lahey fires back with an unnecessary amount of aggression. His eyes fall back on the brunette at the door, an unsettling smile on his face. “I’m surprised you’re real. You sure he’s not making you go against your will? Or maybe he paid you for your services? Even then I don’t think he’d actually have the guts to pay for an escort.”

His laugh is almost like nails on a chalkboard. Issac’s face flushes red from embarrassment and anger. Fallon feels herself growing more irritated by this man’s behavior. That's his son, and not to mention, they just met and he basically already accused her of being paid to spend time with Issac.

“Thankfully I’m not an escort then,” She replies stiffly. “Your son was sweet enough to even ask me. He doesn’t need to pay me for my services. It’s a pleasure being able to call him my date.” Her tone is definitive and strong, leaving the man unable to argue with her or try to insult Issac.

“I don’t believe you,” Mr. Lahey says flatly, leaning against the doorframe. “Isaac never mentioned anything about a date, and he sure as hell didn’t ask me for permission to go.”

“Well, maybe that’s because he knows how you’d react,” Fallon snaps before she can stop herself. Her voice is sharp, frustration bubbling over. “He deserves to go out and have fun, just like everyone else. You don’t get to control him forever.”

Mr. Lahey’s eyes flash with anger, and he steps closer to her, his posture menacing. “Watch your mouth, girl. You don’t know anything about how I raise my son.”

“I know enough,” Fallon mutters under her breath, her hands clenching into fists at her sides.

Just then, the door opens a little wider, and Isaac tries to wriggle his way out of the house. He looks between his father and Fallon, clearly uncomfortable.

“Dad, let me go,” Isaac says, his voice quiet but firm. “I told you last week, I’m going to the dance.”

Mr. Lahey scoffs, turning to Isaac. “You’re not going anywhere,” he says, his voice dripping with disdain. “You think I’m going to let you leave with some… girl you probably had to beg to go with you?”

Isaac flinches at his father’s words, but Fallon steps forward, her protective instinct kicking in. “He didn’t have to beg me,” Fallon says sharply, glaring at Mr. Lahey. “And he’s going to the dance with me. Whether you approve of it or not.”

Mr. Lahey sneers, his eyes flicking between Isaac and Fallon. “You think you can just come into my house and tell me what my son is doing?” he growls, his voice low and dangerous.

Fallon doesn’t back down, her eyes locked on his. “No, but I do think Isaac deserves better than this,” she says, her voice steady. “And you know it. So I’m not telling you what your son is doing, I’m giving him the option because it’s his choice, not yours.”

Isaac’s dad takes a step toward her, but Isaac moves quickly, stepping in between them. “Dad, stop,” Isaac says, his voice shaking slightly. “I’m going with Fallon, and that’s it.”

There’s a tense silence, and for a moment, Fallon wonders if Mr. Lahey is going to lash out. But instead, he just sneers again, backing away slightly.

“Fine,” he spits. “Go ahead. But don’t come crying to me when you screw it up like everything else.”

Isaac winces, but he doesn’t respond. He just nods to Fallon, signaling that they should leave.

Fallon glares at Mr. Lahey one last time before turning on her heel and walking toward the car, Isaac following close behind. Once they’re outside, Fallon lets out a shaky breath, her heart still pounding in her chest.

“I’m sorry about that,” Isaac says quietly, his eyes downcast as they reach the car. “He’s not always like that… but when he gets mad…”

Fallon glances at him, her anger softening into something more protective. “You don’t have to apologize for him,” she says gently, opening the car door for him. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Isaac hesitates for a moment, then nods, giving her a small, grateful smile. He gets into the car, and Fallon follows, sliding into the driver’s seat.

As they drive away from the house, Fallon can’t shake the feeling of anger still bubbling inside her. She glances over at Isaac, who’s staring out the window, lost in thought.

“Hey,” she says softly, catching his attention. “You don’t deserve any of that. You know that, right?”

Isaac looks at her, surprised, but then he nods slowly. “Yeah,” he murmurs. “I guess I do.”

Fallon smiles, reaching over to squeeze his hand gently. “Good,” she says, her voice firm. “Because tonight, we’re going to have fun. No more thinking about him.”

Isaac manages a small smile, nodding again. “Fun sounds good,” he says, his voice lighter than before.

As they drive off toward the winter formal, Fallon glances back at Isaac’s house one last time, her jaw set. She knows this won’t be the last time they have to deal with his dad. But tonight, she’s going to make sure Isaac gets the chance to forget about all of that, even if it’s just for a few hours.

When they arrive at the school, Fallon ends up parking next to Stiles and Lydia who seem to have just arrived as well. She doesn’t even have the chance to open her door before Issac is rounding the car to do it for her. She smiles as he sticks out his hand for her to take. She jumps down, smoothing over her dress before leaning up to kiss his cheek.

“Thank you,” she smiles.

“Oh my gosh, Fallon!” Allison runs up to her. “That dress looks amazing on you,” she gushes while Jackson follows begrudgingly.

“Well, you look absolutely stunning,” Fallon compliments back. “Jackson’s lucky he got to take you,” she tries to lighten the expression on Jackson’s face, but he seems too busy brooding on his own. She clears her throat, pulling Issac forward, “And this is Issac, my date. He was sweet enough to take pity on me and ask so I didn’t have to go alone.” She jokes, nudging his side with her hip.

Issac fights off his own blush, rubbing the back of his neck, “I didn’t take pity,” he clarifies. “I actually wanted to ask you like a month ago but it took me a while to actually get myself to do it…” he admits.

Allison smiles at their cuteness, “That’s really sweet.”

Fallon leans into his side slightly, “Yeah, he is.” She loops her arm through his as Allison and Jackson start to head towards the gym. They follow after them, stopping to talk to Lydia and Stiles while Jackson rudely brushes past them.

“Jackson… you look handsome,” Lydia compliments politely.

The blonde smirks, barely even addressing his ex-girlfriend. “Obviously,” he says smugly. “It’s Hugo Boss.” He wraps his arm around Allison before reluctantly escorting her into the school.

Lydia bites the inside of her cheek, looking up at the sky, “I don't care. I don't want compliments. I will not fall prey to society's desire to turn girls into emotional, insecure neurotics who pull up their dresses at the first flattering remark…”

Stiles’ eyes soften as he looks at the short strawberry blonde next to him. “Well, I think you look beautiful,” he tells her genuinely.

Lydia looks up at him, a faint smile covering her cherry red lips. It’s almost like she’s never gotten a compliment that meant so much. “Really?” She asks gently. Stiles simply sticks his arm out for her to take, and she does. She loops hers through his before the two of them start strutting towards the school.

Fallon grins as she watches her friend get a date with his dream girl. Her own arm is still laced with Issac’s. The curly haired boy gets a small surge of confidence, lacing their fingers together which catches her attention. “Y’know you look beautiful too, right?” He tells her, a bit nervous. “I know I haven’t said it until now, but you do look stunning.”

His compliment goes straight to her cheeks. She can’t fight off the small giggle that leaves her lips. “You look pretty handsome yourself,” she says smoothly, messing with his jacket.

“You ready to head in there?” He asks, gesturing over to the blasting music and bright, colorful lights. Shouts of joy are heard from the gym, their fellow peers already starting to enjoy the night's festivities.

“I am if you are,” she replies.

Issac pulls her closer to him before the duo heads into the school. Their eyes widen as they take in the area that once was their high school gym. Whoever is on the dance committee really outdid themselves. The decorations look amazing. While the strobe lights are a bit much, it does add a bit more of a party feel.

Although she has a great date and plans on having a good night, there's still a bit of fear lingering in the back of her mind. She hasn’t even had a chance to talk to Kate. After dress shopping, Fallon spent the night over at Allison’s house in hopes of getting some information from her aunt, but the woman never came home. Peter told her she had until tonight to deliver results, and she has nothing.

“You want some punch?” Issac asks her, his voice raised so she can hear him over the thumping music.

Fallon nods her head, “We should probably get some before Jackson and the rest of the lacrosse guys spike it,” she says, making Issac laugh.

The two head over to the refreshments table, Issac politely grabbing two cups while Fallon gets a plate, filling it with snacks for them to share. Stiles waves the duo over to his and Lydia’s table, causing Fallon to playfully roll her eyes at his inability to talk to women without her present. She places a cookie in Issac’s mouth as they travel over to the table. Fallon takes the seat closest to Lydia, Issac pulling it out of her before taking the chair next to Fallon.

Issac and Fallon have their own hushed conversation as Stiles stares longingly at the dance floor. He wants more than anything to dance with Lydia. Just a chance to get her attention off of Jackson and onto him. Issac tosses a grape into the air, Fallon catching it with her mouth. The two of them cheer obnoxiously making Stiles’ frown more prominent. He doesn’t understand how the two of them can make sitting at a table so entertaining.

He’s slightly jealous by how easy Fallon makes things look. Issac has never been the type of guy to be outgoing or bold, but sitting here with Fallon, no one would be able to tell. Hell, most people forget that the curly haired blonde is even on the lacrosse team. He doesn’t go to parties or school events, yet with her he looks like one of the most popular guys in school. It irritates Stiles to no end that Fallon can do that for Issac but he himself can’t even ask Lydia to dance with him.

Stiles bites his tongue, his leg bouncing up and down. “Screw it,” he mumbles. He turns his head to Lydia, sticking his hand out towards her. “You wanna dance?”

Lydia twirls her hair around her finger, sending him an uninterested smile. “Pass,” she turns him down snidely.

Stiles clenches his jaw, rolling his head back and forth. He stands up from his chair, leaning onto the table to show that he means business. Fallon watches with an amused grin, not used to seeing Stiles take charge. “You know what? Let me try that again-- Lydia, get off your cute little ass and dance with me now.”

Lydia smacks her lips together, pretending like she’s thinking about it. “Interesting tactic,” she hums. “I’m gonna stick with no.”

“Lydia, get up, okay?!” Stiles demands exasperatedly. “You're gonna dance with me. I don't care that you made out with my best friend for some weird power thing. I don't–” Fallon shakes her head, silently saying that is not the route to go to convince her to dance. He sighs, knowing she’s right so he switches gears.

“Lydia, I've had a crush on you since the third grade... And I know that somewhere inside that cold, lifeless exterior, there's an actual human soul. And I'm also pretty sure that I'm the only one who knows how smart you really are. Uh-huh. And that once you're done pretending to be a nit-wit, you'll eventually go off and write some insane mathematical theorem that wins you the Nobel Prize.”

Lydia looks down, a small blush appearing on her cheeks. No one has ever paid that much attention to her before. Or taken the time to notice who she really is. “A Fields Metal,” she corrects him quietly.

Stiles shakes his head, “… What?” He asks, confused.

She stands up, dusting off the imaginary dust on her dress. She takes a step towards him, “Nobel doesn’t have a prize for mathematics. The Fields Medal is the one I’ll be winning,” she states matter-of-factly before pulling Stiles out onto the dance floor. He sticks his hand in the air, quietly celebrating his win.

Fallon chuckles, popping a piece of fruit in her mouth. She watches the teens around her dance to the upbeat music until Issac suddenly stands from his seat. He looks down at her causing her heartbeat to quicken. He offers his hand out to her, “I don’t exactly have a big speech like that to make you swoon or anything… but uh– would you maybe wanna dance with me?”

Fallon places her hand in his with a small smack, pulling herself out of the chair. “I thought you’d never ask.”

The beat of the song is infectious, the kind that makes it impossible to stand still, and Fallon wastes no time throwing herself into the music. She starts moving to the rhythm, her energy vibrant and carefree.

Isaac, on the other hand, is a little more reserved. He sways awkwardly, trying to keep up with the fast tempo but clearly not as confident. Fallon grins at him, shaking her head in mock exasperation.

“Seriously, Isaac? You can’t just stand there like a statue. Have some fun!” she calls over the music.

Isaac chuckles nervously, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t really know how to... I mean...”

Fallon isn’t having it. She grabs both of his hands this time, spinning him around before letting go. Isaac stumbles slightly but starts laughing, the awkwardness slowly melting away. Fallon’s infectious energy draws him in, and soon enough, he’s attempting to dance with her.

“There you go!” Fallon shouts, grinning wide as Isaac loosens up.

Isaac shakes his head, laughing. “You’re relentless, you know that?”

“You’ll thank me later,” Fallon retorts, spinning in place and throwing her hands up to the beat. “Now just follow my lead!”

Isaac does his best, moving a little more freely now, though his dancing is still a bit hesitant. Fallon doesn’t mind—she’s just happy he’s finally getting into it. They start to dance together, not caring if they look ridiculous, laughing as they mimic the other students’ more over-the-top moves.

At one point, Fallon twirls around and nearly bumps into Isaac. He catches her by the wrist, pulling her back into the rhythm of the dance. Their eyes meet, and for a second, Fallon can see the genuine smile on Isaac’s face—something that makes her heart swell a little.

“You’re not so bad at this,” Fallon says teasingly, swaying to the fast beat, her hair bouncing along with the music.

Isaac grins, his confidence slowly building. “You’re just saying that because you’re stuck with me for the rest of the night.”

Fallon rolls her eyes and spins around again, this time pulling Isaac with her. “I picked you, Lahey. Get used to it!”

They continue to dance, their movements syncing up as they get more comfortable. Fallon’s laughter fills the air, and Isaac’s initial awkwardness is completely gone, replaced by a kind of carefree fun that Fallon rarely sees in him.

At one point, Isaac takes a bold step and spins Fallon around, catching her slightly off guard. She stumbles for a second but quickly recovers, bursting out laughing. “Whoa! Look at you, showing off!”

Isaac shrugs, smirking. “Guess I’m a fast learner.”

“Oh, you think you’re hot stuff now?” Fallon teases, stepping closer to him and raising an eyebrow.

Isaac chuckles, his eyes gleaming with newfound confidence. “Maybe a little.”

They continue dancing, the fast song driving their energy higher and higher. Fallon can’t help but feel completely alive in this moment, surrounded by flashing lights, laughter, and the thumping beat of the music. And Isaac—he’s right there with her, laughing, moving, and just... being himself.

As the song reaches its climax, Fallon grabs Isaac’s hand and raises it in the air, twirling underneath it one last time. She lands back in front of him, slightly breathless but grinning ear to ear. Isaac is laughing, too, his eyes bright with excitement.

“Okay, okay,” Isaac says, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “I admit it, this was a good idea.”

Fallon flashes him a playful grin, stepping closer and playfully shoving him on the shoulder. “Told you. Now you just need to loosen up more often.”

Isaac shakes his head, still smiling. “I’ll work on it.”

Fallon smirks, giving him a playful wink. “Good. Because I’m not letting you sit out on any more fast songs tonight.”

Isaac groans, but there’s no hiding the smile on his face. “Deal.”

A few more songs pass, the two of them enjoying the dance floor a little too much. It gets to the point where other couples start surrounding them, cheering on their eccentric behavior. It makes Fallon smile to see Issac not care what everyone else thinks. In class he’s usually pretty shy, doesn’t say much unless he’s asked to. That’s why she was so surprised when he asked her to the dance. But, of course, she could never say no. She’d be crazy if she did. It's just nice seeing him let loose like this, despite his father, his social anxiety, all of it. He’s a really sweet guy and deserves to have a good night.

“McCall!” Coach Finstock’s voice reverberates around the gym causing most heads to turn to him. Fallon internally facepalms. She hoped Scott would at least be able to last an hour without being seen, but that was clearly an unreasonable expectation. “I see you!”

Fallon leans into Issac’s chest, hiding her laughter as Coach shoves through some students to get to Scott. He looks tucked. Scott darts through the auditorium with wide eyes, trying to find a way to escape being kicked out. “Come here, buddy! Come here!”

“McCall! It's a small gym, buddy!” The raven haired man points aggressively at Scott who is still evading his wrath. “I'm gonna find you! I gotcha, McCall! Come here, come here! Get outta my way!” he shoves two dancing students to the side. “McCall!”

Fallon’s jaw drops when she watches Scott frantically run up to Danny. He gesticulates wildly before pulling the goalie up from his chair and wrapping his arms around his neck. He forces Danny to sway back and forth making Fallon cover her mouth with her hand. Issac simply watches with amused eyes while everyone else looks at the scene unfolding with concern.

“McCall! You're not supposed to–” Coach pauses when he realizes who Scott is dancing with. “What the hell are you do– What the hell are you doing?” He asks, flabbergasted.

Scott bats his eyelashes with an innocent smile, “Yes, Coach?”

Coach feels the eyes of every person in the gym on him. He suddenly realizes what this situation could be interpreted as and immediately tries to correct it. “Okay, ho-ho-ho, ha-ha. Hold on, you– I was just saying he's not supposed to– I mean, I wasn't saying that he shouldn't-- You guys don't think– You don't– I-I was–” He throws his hands up, giving up on trying to explain himself. “Just dance, everybody! Just dance! Dance! It's a party!”

Fallon shakes her head as Coach disappears into the crowd, not missing a chance to yell something at Greenberg. Scott lets go of Danny, letting the poor boy return to his own date. Scott walks right over to Allison who greets him with a bright smile and the two begin to dance to the slow song that comes on.

She sighs, taking a step closer to Issac so she can wrap her arms around his neck. He eases his hands onto her waist, the two of them lazily swaying back and forth to the song. She grins up at him, “Thanks for taking me tonight. I’m having a lot of fun.”

“Thanks for saying yes,” he counters. “I probably wouldn’t have come if you didn’t.” He twirls her underneath his arm and pulls her back into him.

Fallon leans her head onto his chest, “Well, I would’ve ended up being a fifth wheel, so I really appreciate you saving my ass from that.” She giggles softly.

“Think of it as payment for you saving me from my dad,” Issac replies gently. “The least I could do after what you did for me back there.”

“Y’know… if you ever need another place to stay, just to get away from your dad for a bit, you could always come to my place,” she suggests kindly. “My dad and I have a spare bedroom, and I know he’d be okay with it if he knew you needed it. He lets Stiles and Scott sleep there all the time.”

He sucks in a deep breath, “No, it’s okay,” he says unsurely. “I couldn’t ask you to do that.”

“You’re not asking,” Fallon counters. “I’m offering. I’d feel much better if I knew you were in a safe environment at least some of the time.”

Issac sees nothing but genuineness in her eyes. He knows his father would never allow him, but maybe that’s the point. This could be his potential escape. “Okay…” he mumbles with a nod. “If I need it, I’ll call you.”

Fallon can take that, “Okay,” she agrees.

Another slow song comes on, allowing her and Issac to simply dance in silence. He rests his chin on her head as she keeps her head on his chest. She closes her eyes, relaxing into his warmth. It’s nice having a normal night. Being here almost makes her forget about Peter's threat.

She opens her eyes momentarily and immediately frowns. She watches as Lydia walks away from Stiles, leaving her buzz cut best friend with a dejected expression. The strawberry blonde walks out of the gym, making Fallon tilt her head out of curiosity.

“Hey… do you mind if we go check on Stiles?” She asks Issac kindly. “Lydia just walked away from him and he looks pretty beat up about it.”

“Yeah,” Issac nods. “Let’s go.” He takes her hand in his before walking over to the table where Stiles just sat down at. Issac sits down next to Fallon while she sits next to Stiles.

“What just happened?” Fallon asks curiously. “You guys seemed all up close and cozy up there. Where’d she go?”

“Went to look for Jackson,” he grumbles irritatedly, slumping down in his chair. “I should’ve expected she would.”

Fallon’s mouth is agape, “And you just let her go? By herself?” She flicks his forehead. “You could’ve gone with her, stupid.”

“And witness her try to win him back?” Stiles scoffs sarcastically. “I’ll pass.”

“Okay, but what if she can’t find him?” Fallon brings up. “It’s probably not a good idea to let her wander around the school at night by herself. Doesn’t exactly go great for us when we do that,” she mutters the last part.

“She doesn’t want me to go after her,” Stiles says, his confidence shot. “She’ll just call me annoying and tell me to go away.”

Sympathy fills Fallon’s veins. Lydia is literally the love of his life and she can tell how upset he is by her leaving. He doesn’t blame her though. Lydia loves Jackson. She can’t turn that off just because she’s having a nice time with Stiles.

Fallon sighs, “You’re not annoying, Sti,” she squeezes his knee reassuringly. “You have no idea how much tonight probably meant for her.” She smiles at him, standing up from her chair. “I’m gonna go see if I can find her, okay?” She glances up at Isaac, a teasing grin on her face. “If you wanna finish the song out boys, I’d love to get a photo of you dancing with each other.” She pats Stiles’ shoulder. “Issac’s a really good dancer by the way. I think you’d like it.” She shouts to them before walking out of the gym.

The brunette girl takes a step out into the quiet hallway and feels instantly refreshed. She didn’t realize how sweaty and suffocating it was in the gym until now. She brushes a strand of hair behind her ear, looking around the hallway and peeking into unlocked classrooms. They have teachers patrolling the halls so they wouldn’t have been able to go upstairs.

She keeps an eye out for either Jackson or Lydia, in hopes if she finds one, she’ll find the other. She huffs, crossing her arms over her chest as she takes a step outside. She left her jacket in the car, feeling the slight urge to go and grab it, but she doesn’t. She keeps her head on a swivel, “Lydia?” She calls out.

The night air is crisp, the stars shining brightly overhead. It’s eerily quiet as she walks around the outside of the campus. She would’ve assumed there would be more teens fraternizing in their cars, but it doesn’t look like there’s anyone. It’s completely deserted. The moon illuminates her body, her white shoes shining under the glow. Even her dress sparkles underneath the natural lighting. She normally would stop and admire the environment around her, but her mind is too preoccupied with being worried about Lydia.

She rounds the corner of the building and over to the lacrosse field. That’s when she finally hears Lydia’s confused voice. “Jackson?” She yells out into the darkness. “Jackson?!”

“Lydia!” Fallon calls out to the girl, taking off her heels before beginning her trek into the field. She didn’t want to ruin a perfectly good pair of shoes on the freshly watered grass.

Lydia stops, tilting her head as Fallon grows closer. Once she reaches her side in the center of the field she furrows her eyebrows, “What are you doing here?” Lydia asks.

“Stiles told me you came out here alone to look for Jackson,” Fallon explains. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

Suddenly the lights to the field turn on one by one. The girls freeze, panic striking them from the top of their heads to the soles of their feet. Lydia grips Fallon’s hand tightly, the brunette not protesting the contact. Something doesn’t feel right. Her heart thumps against her ribcage, neither of them being able to see past the blinding lights.

“Jackson? Is that you?” Lydia says, walking them slightly closer. That’s when Fallon sees it. Someone’s walking towards them from the woods behind the field. She can’t quite make out who it is, but something inside of her is saying that it’s not Jackson.

“Lyds,” Fallon tugs her arm, trying to move further away. “I think we should head back…”

“Jackson!” She tries again. “Is that you?” She narrows her eyes, her voice fading as the person grows closer.

Fallon’s breath catches in her throat as she gets a small glimpse of who is barrelling towards them, “Peter,” she whimpers.

��FALLON! LYDIA! RUN!” Stiles’ voice carries over the empty field, the boy shouting at the top of his lungs as he runs as fast as he can towards the two. He has to save them.

By the time they turn back around, Peter is too close to escape from. Fallon screams in horror as he attacks Lydia, rendering her unconscious. She tries to run, but her world fades into black as a sudden pain surges through her side. Her eyes slide shut, eyelashes fluttering as her body collides with the floor. Blood leaks from her side, Peter kneeling menacingly above both her and Lydia’s bodies.

Stiles falls to his knees, body trembling as he sees the torn up state the two most important women in his life are in. “Don't kill them…” he pleads, completely terrified. “Please…”

Blood drips down from the corner of Peter’s mouth. He looks up with a fake kindness, “ Of course not,” he says as if he isn’t slowly letting them bleed out beneath him. “Just tell me how to find Derek.” He states.

“W-what?” Stiles stutters, not understanding how he would know that.

“Well, since Fallon here failed at getting close to the Argents, I don’t have a connection to help me find my nephew,” Peter pouts. “So Stiles…. Tell me how to find Derek Hale.”

Stiles scoffs, his eyes flashing down to Fallon who seems to be bleeding a lot more profusely than Lydia. “I don’t know that,” he says fearfully. “How would I know that?”

“Because you're the clever one, aren't you?” Peter asks rhetorically, setting his hand dangerously close to Fallon’s bite mark. “And because deception has a particularly acrid scent, Stiles.” He leans forward making Stiles shake even more, “Tell me the truth…” he glances down, “or I will rip them apart.”

Tears start to well up being Stiles’ eyes. He can’t watch them die. He can’t sit here and watch his best friend die. “Look-look, I don't know, okay? I sw-swear to God, I have no idea

“TELL ME!” Peter growls loudly, his voice deepening a few octaves, making the ground shake beneath them.

Stiles winces, wracking his brain for information quickly, “Okay, okay, okay, look... I-I think he knew–” His voice cracks as he tries to calm his breathing.

“Knew what?” Peter questions impatiently.

”Derek,” Stiles elaborates as best as he can. “I think he... I think he knew he was gonna be caught.”

“By the Argents?” Peter clarifies, his claws still tracing the gaping wound in Fallon’s skin.

“Yeah…” He nods with begging eyes, silently praying that he leaves the girls alone.

Peter continues fishing, needing more information. He can tell Stiles is holding something back. “And?” He gestures for the boy to continue.

“When they were shot, he and Scott-- I think he took Scott's phone,” Stiles finds the courage to make eye contact.

The older man creases his eyebrows, “Why?”

“They all have GPS now. So, if he still has it, and if it's still on... you can find him.”

*ೃ༄ tags˚◞♡ ⃗

@iamaslytherin0 @famousrunaway1329 @avengersheart @random-fangirl003 @mysticliars-blog1

[randomperson351]

Meet the parents - MH

Summary: Malia can't believe you would betray her like this, and with her own father.

Do not repost or rewrite any of my work. Minors and ageless blogs get blocked.

Masterlist Asks

...

There was something wrong. Malia could sense it as soon as she stepped out of the elevator. There was the sweet ringing of your laughter but it was combined with a deeper male chuckle and the scents coming from the apartment were all wrong.

Surely this couldn't be happening, things had been going so well between you two recently.

Preparing for the worst Malia turned the door handle and craned her neck round the door, finding the very thing she was afraid of.

"Oh hey Lia!"

"Malia, I wondered when you might be joining us."

"What are you doing here?"

"Parental concern. I was going to go looking for you but then I met this wonderful young lady here, who is an absolute delight by the way, and decided to stick around until you got back."

Malia stepped all the way through the door and closed it with her foot, eyeing you with a look of betrayal at letting Peter into your apartment to stain the couch with his expensive cologne that was currently burning her nostrils.

"Sorry." You mouthed to her and shrugged, biting your lip to contain the smile that threatened to burst at the disgruntled expression on her face.

"What are you even talking about anyway? I could hear you laughing from outside." Begrudgingly Malia set her bags down and flopped practically all the way over you, swinging her legs up to rest her socked feet over her father's legs. You wrapped your arms around her middle and gave her a squeeze, pressing a small kiss to her forehead in greeting.

Peter smiled at the adoring look on his daughter's face as she leaned up to get a proper kiss from you, contentment rolling off her despite the blase front she was putting on. His hand found its way to the exposed skin on Malia's ankle and rubbed at the smooth surface, pleased at the way she melted even further.

"How I'm planning to make sure this one becomes my daughter in law."

Malia balked at first but then softened the more she considered it; coming home to you bundled on the couch waiting for her, shared kisses under the moonlight of a full moon, making dinner together in the late hours of the evening.

"Well who's to say I haven't already planned something?"

"You don't have to lie Malia, we were just joking." You whispered in her hair, although she caught a subtle dip in your scent.

"I wasn't. I think you're it for me."

You didn't know what to say, you could only stare at her earnest expression with rapidly glistening eyes.

"Really?"

"I hate to break up the love confessions but I do feel, as father of the bride, that I should get a say in at least the gifts of the wedding."

"I haven't even proposed yet." Malia told Peter, wiggling her toes when he tried to massage the balls of her feet.

"Well you'd better get on with it because she is coming into this family whether you do it or I do."

Malia looked up to you in doubt, caressing your hands that were still wrapped round her. "You sure you want to join whatever this is?"

"Mmhmm." You nodded.

Lifting herself up to press your foreheads together Malia took a moment to breath you in deeply before smiling to herself and giving into the temptation to press soft kisses to your cheeks, finally taking your lips and starting what was really an inappropriate make out session in front of a parental figure but she didn't pay Peter much mind when she had your tongue licking against hers.

"What about a spring wedding?" Peter mused. "I've always loved the flowers that come out in spring."

"That's for me and my fiancé to decide, father. You can set the gift list." Turning back to you Malia licked along the seam of your lips, sneaking in a kiss before you pushed her away with rapidly reddening cheeks, suddenly aware of Peter watching you both.

"But I have great taste!" He remarked offended.

"Which is why you're in charge of the gifts, so we only get the good stuff."

"I guess it will do for now." He sighed. "If you're seriously going to do this you'll want to get in touch with Derek so he join your bond and officiate you into the pack."

"I'll text him tonight." You agreed.

"Now will you please leave so I can have sex with my girlfriend?" Malia begged, using her feet as leverage to kick him off the couch.

"I think you mean fiancé."

Peter narrowly missed being assaulted by his daughter's shoe on the way out.

[plutoswritingplanet]

am I the only sour cherry on your fruit stand? (Derek Hale x Female!Reader)

a/n: I have no expanation, other than me and my partner are rewatching Teen Wolf together, and I really wanted to write some filth

Warnings: Carpet Munching (ha), Enemies to Lovers except not really enemies to not really lovers, Full Moon Shenanigans, Shotgunning,

Summary: It's a constant dance between you and Derek. You hate him, he's supposed to hate you. He wants you in his pack, you want him to leave your brother the hell alone. Either way, the full moon always brings out the darkest of truths to the surface.

MASTERLIST

Your body is so cold.

An overwhelming feeling of a slow, creeping chill climbs through your veins. Breath coming out in quick, sharp gasps, you lay frozen on the wooden floor, the charred and twisted presence of the Hale house looming over you. The broken roof stares at your form, laughing mockingly at your predicament, as the floorboards greedily soak up your blood. As if they try to eat the very essence, suck the marrow from your bones. 

You can feel it leaving your body. A steady, crimson stream, dripping out like a broken faucet, your vision blurring with each drop. And, by God, does it hurt. It hurts like nothing you've ever felt. You've been hurt before, of course. Throughout your life, you've suffered injuries big and small, but this... Nothing could prepare you for the sharp, burning sensation spreading throughout you, frayed nerve endings screaming for help. You'd take a broken bone any day, instead of this. 

The bullet went right through the side of your stomach. A last hurrah on Kate Argent's part, as she pulled the trigger blindly, right before her throat was ripped out. She's in here somewhere, as well. Her lifeless body staring at you with unseeing eyes. Some twisted sense of ancient justice, her dying in this house. The Hale family has finally gotten their revenge. You'll join the Hunter soon enough. Perhaps this is your punishment for being unnecessarily rude to Derek. 

Just another soul claimed by this cursed place, about to join the tally. Innocent? No, that's for sure not the case. You could be called many things, but innocent wasn't one. Hell, some people wouldn't even call you good. But if there's anything you've got going for you, it's you're loyal. Which, is the sole reason you've landed in this situation, in the first place. You're loyal to your fucking grave. 

Someone grabs your hand, the back of your head cradling it softly, you can feel shar points of a clawed hand scratching lightly at your scalp. Through the fog of darkness, you can see your baby brother. Tears gather in his eyes, and despite your sorry state, you can't shake the instinct to make it better. To somehow protect him from the pain of your own imminent passing. Like you've always done, combining your efforts with your mother, and keeping all the monsters away. Shining a proverbial flashlight under the bed. 

"It's okay" you manage to choke out, not entirely able to recognize your voice "You'll be okay" 

Your hand shakes in his, and Scott screams for help, teeth growing into sharp fangs at the sudden crash of emotions. His eyes shine that blasted shade of yellow, as he begs for something. Anything. Your heart breaks for him. You've managed to save him from a stray bullet, but you can't do anything now. You can't protect him, and it tears you apart more than any Wolfsbane covered casing could. 

And then you see another person, looking at you through the fog.

Your heart skips a bit, although whether it's from the blood loss, or the man leaning above you, is anyone's guess. 

Red eyes bear down onto you, a calloused hand resting on your cheek, and your eyebrows furrow, as Derek Hale brings his face closer. Perhaps it's the delirium setting in, but for just a split-second, you're almost convinced his expression twists into that of concern. 

Which, given your current situation, would be warranted, if not for one simple fact, that's been hanging over the both of you, ever since your first meeting. 

You hate each other. 

Or at least, you hate him. Deeply despise everything he stands for, especially since he's been acting like a complete and utter dick to your brother, threatening him at least two times a day. And you couldn't let that slide, couldn't see the tremendous amounts of stress, he's been putting your brother through, and not react. 

"Please, Derek." your brother begs, his voice breaking, "Save her, please."

It takes you a moment, your brain is slowly, but surely being deprived of oxygen. But once the implications of your brother's words hit, a new sense of purpose floods your bones. It's not panic, not necessarily. You've always been much too calm and collected, to let yourself be drowned by fear. 

You suppose it's the curse of being the oldest sibling, this outward tranquility, mixed with boiling rage just beneath the surface. 

Derek leans down, red eyes search yours, although, you can see by the determined tick of his jaw, that he's already made his decision. For just a second, you're tempted. You don't want to die, of course you don't. And the idea of being so much stronger, more resilient, being able to protect those you love, without tearing your veins out in the process... You'd be a fool not to consider it. 

But then, you look into his red eyes, burning like coals in a dying fire, and something akin to a steel conviction settles itself over you, like a protective blanket. 

Your shaking hand rises, fingers trembling, as they slide over Derek's cheekbone. He freezes under your touch, eyes widening slightly, at the unexpected, tender contact. Your eyebrows scrunch in concentration, and he sucks in a sharp breath, as the pads of your fingers press against his mouth. 

With the last, fraying remnants of strength, you push, until you can feel his teeth through the soft plush of his lips.

"Don't..." a wheezing intake of breath rattles through your lungs, as you force yourself to focus

"Don't you fucking dare"

Derek's mouth opens, a silent gasp pushing past your fingers, and your hand falls onto the ground. 

The sudden, cold steeliness of his burning, red gaze is the last thing you remember, before waking up in Beacon Hills General Hospital, your mother and your brother at your side.

***

From that point onward, Derek's name is like a constant presence, looming over your life, whether you like it or not. And truth be told, you really, really don't like it.

Having now taken the power of the Alpha, he's become even more insufferable, if that's possible. And as such, you've decided the best course of action, was to steer clear of him, to save yourself from any more anger issues. 

After recovering from having the right side of your body obliterated by a bullet, you took time to search for a job. You've found one relatively quickly, as a waitress at a small diner right at the edge of Beacon Hills. It was such a typical, American place, filled with the smell of grease and cheap coffee. But it payed well enough, and the owner, an older woman with a warm, round face, was almost too excited by a prospect of 'fresh blood' working for her. You didn't mention, that you're not exactly 'fresh blood'. Nor did you remind her, that during your rebellious teenage phase, you used to draw graffiti over the back of her establishment.

You're not that angry, troubled teen anymore. You've dealt with it. For the most part. 

Doesn't change the fact, that every time you slip out the back entrance for your break, your eyes follow the painted over ghosts of your highschool years. Doesn't change the small, almost wistful smile, tugging at the corners of your perpetually frowning lips. You used to smile more back then. You used to be kinder.

Derek never invades your place of work, not once. Small blessings, you suppose. 

For the most part, he tries to keep his distance from you, despite the fact, that circumstances keep forcing him to work with your brother, and as such, bringing him into your orbit. 

Even the mention of his name, in passing conversation, evokes emotions you're not sure how to deal with. Because yes, you hate him. He's annoying, he's all that. But there's also this strange hint of understanding, of kinship between two born protectors. Two people, who care so deeply, in such an overwhelming manner, they have to hide behind a mask of thorns, just to keep themselves safe. 

You can't shake the feeling, that during that small interaction, where he almost made you the first addition to his pack, he saw you. He saw, what you are, every part that makes you, who you are, and understood it without a second thought. 

And you can't have that. The idea is so preposterous, so terrifying, you have to actively fight it away, everytime you even catch a whiff of his presence. 

Avoiding him goes pretty easily. You tend to stay away from the supernatural aspects of your brother's life anyways, too focused on helping your mom keeping the house afloat. Sometimes it's better not to know, and you consciously make the effort to know as little as possible. 

That is, until one evening, you exit your run down car, and see him standing right outside your house, throwing daggers at the closed door. One of his Betas, you're pretty sure his name is Boyd, stands next to him, his overgrown-for-a-teenager statue practically dwarfing Derek. The sight would be comical, if you weren't so god-damned tired, and this wasn't your house they were standing in front of. 

Turning the ignition off, you wonder for a moment, if this is worth the trouble. Perhaps a couple laps around the neighborhood would do you good. Avoiding confrontation went so well until now, you're almost mournful to end it. But then again, the gas prices are definitely more annoying, than the werewolf's presence, so you open the creaking door and leave the car.

His eyes snap to you, as the car door slams shut, and for a moment he seems almost surprised you're here. Then, his jaw tightens, as he schools his expression back to a grumpy frown, one you've come to consider synonymous with him. 

"Miss McCall" Boyd nods at you, to Derek's general displeasure, and you respond with a wave.

"I don't remember inviting you guys for dinner" you say, stopping to stand a safe distance from the two werewolves "I would've bought kibble"

A low hanging joke, you're aware, but your legs hurt from running around the diner, and your hair smells of grease, so you feel justified. 

Something sounding almost like a low grow,l grumbles deep in Derek's throat, as he tears his gaze away from the house, pinning you in place with the sheer intensity of the look he gives you. 

Boyd just looks confused.

"We're not here for you" he says, keeping his voice low and measured, although, it doesn't take a genius to gather, there's something else hidden behind his words. 

"Well good" you respond, barely keeping your eyes from rolling, your gaze landing on the kitchen window of your house. 

A soft 'huh' leaves your mouth, as something moves the curtain behind the glass. You can see quick movement inside, but before you can take a step towards the direction of your place, Derek interjects, almost hurriedly.

"Although since you're here..."

Containing an eye roll around him, should become your personal sport niche. Shooting him an unimpressed look, you cross your arms in front of your chest, and definitely ignore the way his eyes linger on the cleavage of your work uniform, which just so happens to be pushed up by the gesture. Hate is a funny thing, and you're not sure, if you can blame it for the sudden fluttering, stirring in your stomach. You're not about to dwell on it, not at all. And you're absolutely not going to dwell on the way, he wets his lips before speaking. 

Nope. Not at all. 

"I've been meaning to talk to you" he starts, after taking a deep breath, as if to compose himself.

Now, that must be a lie, because you know good and god-damned well, he hasn't approached you since the Hale House incident. 

"About?" the borderline indifferent tone of your voice, cuts through the invisible bubble of tension between the two of you.

A moment of silence stretches in the rapidly approaching evening, shadows growing on his face, accentuating the frown that's settled over his expression. You try to remain unaffected, determined not to give him the satisfaction of a reaction. Your eyes catch a glimpse of a blue jeep, that most certainly belongs to Stiles, and although his visits at your house aren't unexpected, something akin to suspicion climbs up your back. Stiles and Scott camping at the house, that's nothing new. But the addition of Derek, alongside his teenage bodyguard... That's definitely a reason for being worried.

As if sensing the sudden change in your thoughts, Derek takes a step closer, his boots crunching on the gravel road. Your muscles tense involuntarily, an instinct you can't seem to get rid of, and your eyebrows shoot up, daring him to come even closer. Daring him to do something, you'll both regret. 

"Why didn't you let me change you?" he asks, voice so low, you can barely hear him. 

Boyd's head snaps in your direction, confusion mounting on his face. 

And just like that, all thoughts and suspicions about the werewolf's presence, get thrown out the proverbial window. Sucking in a sharp breath at the question, your lower lip migrates between your teeth, Derek's gaze zeroing on it with laser-sharp focus. 

"You could've died, and yet, you refused" he continues, taking another step "I could've saved you."

A sharp scoff leaves you, as if the scenario is beyond preposterous. And to some degree, it is. 

"Is it really such a ridiculous idea?" his tone dips even lower, into something almost too seductive, too much like dark persuasion "Imagine the power, the strength I could give you..."

"Strength to do what?" you challenge "Wipe tables faster? Be fucking for real."

A small, almost imperceivable smile splits his lips, and you catch a glimpse of his perpetually sharpened canine teeth. One more step closer, and suddenly he's standing right on the edge of your personal bubble, dancing on what's considered proper between two people, who supposedly despise each other. That small change whispers to you, compels you to let your arms fall from your chest, your defenses lowering without your consent. 

"You wouldn't have to wipe any tables, ever. If you'd join my pack" Derek promises, and the way words leave his mouth, makes you want to believe him. 

Alas, you're a realist, through and through. Your feet stay planted on the ground, no matter what, and in this moment, you know, you have to end this. Before any more ridiculous promises are made. Before you actually fall for one of them. 

"And how would that work, huh?" another challenge, and Derek's eyebrows jerk upwards "Is there a magical, supernatural fund for new werewolves? Do you pay hourly?"

This time, it's Derek's turn to roll his eyes, and the gesture makes heat rise in your bones. He shouldn't look this good while frustrated, the clicking muscles of his jaw almost begging you to go further, to push him.

"I have a family to take care of, you know." you seethe through your teeth, before stopping yourself. 

You could say more. You almost want to say more, words already forming on your tongue, and tasting like bitter venom. Scolding words about his family, about his strange determination to remain detached from the real world. But you swallow them, knowing full-well, that despite Derek's many faults, he doesn't deserve that much. And yes, you're confrontational, sometimes even rude. But you're not cruel. 

Derek notices your angry restrain, his eyes flitting around the way your lips are pressed tightly together. There's a slight note of appreciation, when he speaks next, as if the previous animosity was lifted, by the evening wind, and carried somewhere far away. 

"I know, you're a protector, through and through" he whispers, finally crossing that imaginary line "You'd fit so well, you're just what I need"

Boyd's eyebrows nearly jump off his face, as he looks between Scott McCall's asshole sister, and his Alpha. Derek never mentioned wanting to turn you. Hell, he never mentioned you at all, despite Isaac's efforts at baiting him into a discussion about your tits, and other, less important values. 

"My pack needs someone like you" Derek presses, his hand sneaking closer, fingers brushing over your wrist, and it's as if you've been touched by fire itself. 

End this. You have to end this now. 

A sharp, cutting scoff leaves you, as you rip your hand back, crossing your arms around your chest once again. 

"So you came here to baby-trap me with a bunch of teenagers." your voice is like ice, crushing the bubble of tension between your teeth, and Derek reels back.

He's stubborn, of course. Years of constant defeat have made him desperate to get what he wants. But in this moment, looking into your cold, stinging eyes, he understands with utmost clarity, there's no going through to you. Not today, at least. And so, he steps back with a small nod, an acceptance of temporary failure, before his gaze hardens enough, to make a shiver run up your spine. 

"No" he says, with a strange sort of finality "I didn't come here for you. I came here to kill Lydia Martin."

Immediately, your mind flies to the metal baseball bat, you keep hidden in your car, and deep down inside you're glad, you haven't lost your cool completely. He soaks in the way your expression twists, into one of unbridled, righteous rage, already imagining, how your eyes would look like, burning with amber flames of werewolf powers. And what a glorious sight it would be. You were already so fierce, such a strong personality, he could only picture, what a wonderful Beta you'd be. Loyal to a fault, protective beyond control. The tough alone makes him shiver. 

As if on cue, the door to your house opens, two bodies flying out of the darkness, and you watch, with growing confusion as Erica and Isaac land on the front lawn, grunting in pain, and precariously unable to move. 

"What the f-" you murmur under your nose, and Derek seems to echo the sentiment. 

Then, much to your relief, your brother steps out onto the porch, Stiles and Allison in tow behind him. Your body reacts faster, than your brain can comprehend, your feet carrying you forward. That is, until Derek's now clawed hand, wraps around your wrist, stopping you in your tracks. His touch burns you, shoots through your body like an arrow. The way his thumb presses into the underside of your wrist, the ligt scrape of his claws on your skin. You must be going insane. You must be. 

For a second you're ready to whip around, and show him, why your right hook was famous throughout the whole Beacon Hills. But before you can, the window to Scott's room opens, and some strange, lizard creature crawls out, it's scales shining in the moonlight. It throws a menacing hiss in the general direction of the group, then jumps off into the darkness, leaving you confused, and maybe, just a little bit terrified. Derek hand tightens around you, tugging you back in a gesture, that would be considered protective, if you weren't struggling with an onslaugh of confusing feelings right now. 

By the time Lydia Martin exits the house, your wrist has a perfect imprint of Derek's fingers around it. 

***

Nothing fixes supernatural nonsense better, than throwing yourself into work. 

At least, that's what you tell yourself, as you swish all over the diner, serving coffee refills, hash browns, and slices of not-exactly-homemade cherry pie. White tennis shoes squeal urgently on the linoleum floor, when you finally get called over for your break. The kitchen welcomes you with the sounds of oil cracking, and the main cook throwing another crappy pick-up line your way. You've grown to appreciate them, knowing full-well he would never step out of line. It's the beauty of working in a diner, you suppose. 

Pushing the back door open, you pull out a half-empty pack of cigarettes, another habit you've picked up, while working here. First, it started as a way to relate to other workers, make yourself more social, in a way. Now however, as all addictions, it's a subconscious need, a welcome distraction from the absolute cluster fuck, that is your life. 

The air is crisp, and fresh, filled with an ever-present scent of the woods, which surround the diner on three fronts. A perfect horror setting, you think with a small laugh, as you perch yourself on a stack of cardboard boxes, leaning your head against the wall of the diner. The AC unit hums loudly above you, and you soak in the rhythmic sound, so much more calming, than the constant chaos inside. 

With a small huff, you set the timer on your phone to fifteen minutes, and finally pull out a cigarette, alongside a well-used lighter, you totally did not steal from one of your coworkers. The bombshell blonde in an American flag bikini stares at you from the plastic, as you light one up, taking a long, glorious drag, the delicate burn in your lungs grounding you.  

"These'll kill you" a familiar voice chokes the smoke out of you, and your eyes fall onto none other, but Derek Hale, approaching you with a strange sense of purpose from the tree line. 

Standing up, you throw him a glare, that doesn't look half as hostile, as you would've liked.

"I told you not to come around he-" 

The rest of the sentence gets cut off, as Derek crosses the remaining space between the two of you, kicking the cardboard boxes away, so he can fully push you into the wall. Coldness of the concrete seeps into your skin, despite the flimsy covering of your work uniform, and before you can shake off the shock, of being so close to him, he leans even further in, taking a deep breath, his nose sticking into your hair. There's a low, almost whining sound coming from him, as he exhales, and despite your general distaste for the man, your body warms up in a way, you haven't felt for a while now. 

An involuntary gasp leaves your lips, as the cigarette slips from your hand. Derek catches it in a casual display of his werewolf reflexes, and you will never admit, that it was very fucking cool. 

"The fuck are you-"

"No" he interrupts you again, causing your teeth to grind against each other in frustration "Stop this. Just stop talking." 

There's an unexplainable tension in his voice, something not entirely human creeping into the surface. Your eyes flicker up, above his shoulder, above the tree line, until it lands on the full face of the moon, staring back at you, almost taunting. Still, shouldn't he be practically immune to those things, he's supposed to be an Alpha, or whatever goofy thing he calls himself these days. 

Despite his status, Derek's eyes drop to your neck, where your pulse is picking up more and more, sprung on by the strangeness of this situation. 

You can feel the warmth of his breath on your skin, goosebumps erupting all across your arms, as something not entirely unpleasant twists inside your stomach. Your chest expands in a shaky breath, and suddenly you're surrounded by the smell of pine tar and smoke, mixed with something so distinctly his, it makes your head swim, just a little. 

"Derek..." his eyes snap up to your face, when his name leaves your lips, and for the first time, since you've met him, you notice just how blue his eyes are. 

They're nearly burning, glossed over with something you don't dare to decipher, as they trace a slow path down, right to your lips. 

A resounding chorus of 'What the fuck?' repeats inside your brain, when he sucks on his own bottom lip, wetting it with his tongue, as if noticing something too delicious to resist. 

Your hands find purchase on his upper arms, fingers digging into the muscles, stuck in a limbo between pushing him away, and just... Letting him.

"Just..." he starts, then cuts himself off, swallowing thickly "Just stop talking."

Now that'll be the fucking day, you think, but before you can formulate some biting response, Derek's hand travels upwards, the still burning cigarette held firmly between his pointer and middle finger. Eyes zeroing in on your mouth again, he presses the filter between your parted lips. 

"In" he says firmly, voice low, bordering on a growl, and the undertone of command tinging that single word, makes your insides melt into a puddle.

Seemingly on their own, your lips close around the filter, as you take a deep inhale, feeling the familiar burn travel through your throat, all the way to your lungs. Nicotine filters through your blood, stealing your breath away, and making your head feel so much lighter. You shouldn't have brought such strong ones, and now you're paying for it.

"Hold it" Derek murmurs, his free hand climbing up your body. 

Clawed fingers slide up the apron, teasing the white ties on your lower back. Then, without a warning, he grabs a hold of your breast, squeezing it tightly, before running his thumb over you rapidly hardening nipple. The action forces a gasp out of you, alongside a cloud of smoke, which immediately gets swallowed down by Derek, as he closes the remaining distance. His lips are hot and slightly chapped, the stubble on his chin scratching your face, as he presses even further in, his tongue diving behind your teeth with such determination, it would be a shame not to respond.

So you do. 

However confused you are, by this unexpected turn of events, you welcome him into your mouth, a small grunt of content forming at the back of your throat. Because by some strange magic, or fate, or a curse placed upon you both by a witch, it feels right. It feels like this is where you belong, where he belongs. And the realization is both exciting, and deeply terrifying. But fuck, it feels beyond good.

The moment you kiss him back, he moans. Actually moans into your mouth, his hand on your breast squeezing once again, before moving lower. You can feel the scrape of his claws on the cheap fabric of your work uniform, and you almost scold him. 

"Wha-" you manage to let out between the kisses, before he dives in again, this time focusing all his attention on your neck.

This shouldn't be happening. You hate him, he's supposed to hate you too. And yet, for the time being you can't seem to find it in yourself to push him away, because god above, he's good. He's devastatingly good. 

"Keep smoking" he growls into the pulsing vein on your neck, as he pressed the filter back to your mouth, and despite your very nature, you comply. 

Taking the cigarette into your own, trembling hand, you huff in another drag. Derek groans in approval, lips sucking hard on the spot right behind your ear. The smoke pushes past your lips with a loud moan in tow. He turns his head, just for a second, his eyes dragging across the slowly fading imprint of his hand on your wrist. The sight slows him down for just a second, and he lets his sharpened teeth scrape down the column of your neck.

Now, having freed both of his hands, he's back to your skirt, pushing the edge up, and tugging it behind your apron. He acknowledges the small, wet patch at the front of your underwear with a pleased hum, then gets back to work. First, he grabs ahold of your thigh, dangerously close to the curve of your ass, and you can't really stop your body, from angling towards him. His other hand latches itself to your other breast, giving it the same, rough treatment. Tugging, pushing, squeezing like a stress ball, your usually tense body becomes pliant in his grip

"I said, keep smoking" he throws you a warning look, and you immediately take another drag.

Satisfied with your compliance, he dives down, burying his face in between your breasts, his lips descending upon your skin with hard, wet kisses. 

The combination of his ministrations, and the nicotine flowing through your system, effectively shuts your brain off. You let your head fall back against the wall, let your legs squeeze around his knee, which had precariously found it's way in-between them. A wave of white hot arousal crashes over you, stronger than you've felt in years, and you don't know what else to do, other than grab his shoulder for balance. 

Derek murmurs something inaudible against the cleavage of your uniform, before popping the first two buttons free, and reaching into your now exposed bra, freeing your breast in a way, that is bordering on desperate. He doesn't liger there for long, however, your smoke filled breath catching, as he falls to his knees in front of you, without a warning. 

Another heated look exchanged between the two of you, and you nearly yelp, when his tongue runs a long strip across the cotton of your panties. You don't even have the common sense to be embarrassed, by the washed out marihuanna pattern, or by the fact you've been on your legs for hours, because he doesn't let you gather your thoughts. 

If anything, the broken, growling sound he makes, when he buries his face between your legs makes you feel like the most powerful person on the planet. 

"God..." he groans, his hands grabbing onto the fullness of your ass, pulling you closer to his waiting mouth, all but grinding you into him.

"God..." you echo, letting your thighs fall open, as you try to take another drag of your cigarette from your shaking hand. 

Encouraged by the breathless moans from above, Derek tugs your underwear to the side, too impatient to bother with taking it off properly. 

Cold air of the rapidly approaching evening hits you, and with it, a sudden sense of clarity washes over you, like a bucket filled with ice water. The realization of what you're doing, what you're letting him do, hits you like a freight train.

The cigarette slips from your fingers, landing on the concrete, as Derek dives in, immediately locating your clit and sucking on it with a groan, that is downright pornographic.

Your entire body shudders, knees almost giving out. Your fingers dig into the leather material of his jacket, your knuckles turning white from the force. The noises he makes, as he begins to devour you, coupled with the obscenely wet sounds, would make Satan himself blush, and you can't contain the gasping moans spilling from your lips. Derek is relentless, shifting and squirming on his knees, hands digging into your flesh in an effort to bring your closer, to drown himself in the sweetest of tastes. Your back flies off the wall, then slams against it, thundering waves of pleasure crashing through you with each movement of his tongue, his mouth. 

In your darkest, most shameful of dreams you would've never imagined Derek Hale being this good at eating out. And yet here you are, thighs clenching desperately around his head, as he brings you higher, and higher. You twist in his unrelenting grip, as the coil snaps, your mouth hanging open in a silent scream, your entire body shaking with the intensity of your orgasm. His tongue fucks you through it, until you can't take it anymore, until you slam your hands onto his shoulders, ripping him away from between your legs.

Derek makes a growl of discontent, as he lands with his ass on the concrete, and you take just a second to admire his expression. The wild red, burning in his eyes, the blush covering his entire face and the tips of his ears, the obvious traces of your arousal on his chin, which he immediately licks clean. Stars slowly die down in your vision, your breathing leveling, and you notice a growing patch of wetness, staining his jeans. He looks beyond debauched, and you're certain the look is mirrored on your face, if not more so. 

"How can someone so tart, taste so sweet?" he asks, his voice rough and breaking.

You don't know. You don't know a lot of things right now, but one is certain. And it's the sound of an alarm coming from your phone, signaling the end of your break. In a daze, you tug your skirt down into place, fumbling with the buttons of your shirt. Derek watches, still seated on the ground, still occasionally licking his lips. 

"I gotta..." you whisper, not trusting your voice at all, and Derek's mout splits in a grin, that will haunt you every future night. 

He hums in acknowledgement, and you take his lack of protest in stride. The gravel crunches under your white tennis shoe, when you turn on your heel, and stumble back into the diner.

And the moon keeps laughing from above. 

[twins-write]

Request Information

We write x reader and x OC stories/oneshots, so don't be afraid to give your character a name, unless you prefer it being the reader!

We typically write the reader as a female, but if you prefer gender neutral, let us know!

We generally write for male people/characters as well.

We write:

Fluff

Angst

Hurt/Comfort

Comfort

We do not write smut!

Feel free to send any request for one-shots/imagines, or if you have an idea for a mini-series, don't be afraid to suggest that as well.

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When something is requested, we will try to get to it as quickly as possible, but we are both full time students and play sports, so please bear with us!

We write for a lot of things, but here is the list if you want to go through it all! If you don't see a specific person/show or anything on the list, still feel free to request it. We might have accidentally left it out, but if not, we can still attempt to write that person for you!

You can submit requests by clicking the link at the bottom of this post or the link at the top of the blog, both will take you to a form to submit your request!

FULL LIST OF WHAT WE WRITE FOR:

Shows/movies:

13 Reasons Why

Clay Jensen

Justin Foley

911 (Lonestar and the original)

Eddie Diaz

Evan Buckley

Judd Ryder

Owen Strand

Paul Strickland

TK Strand

Wyatt Harris

American Horror Story

Jimmy Darling

Kit Walker

Kyle Spencer

Michael Langdon

Tate Langdon

Xavier Plympton

Attack On Titan

Armin Arlert

Jean Kirstein

Big Time Rush

Carlos

James

Kendall

Logan

Breaking Bad

Jesse Pinkman

Cobra Kai

Eli Moskowitz (Hawk)

Johnny Lawrence

Miguel Diaz

Robby Keene

Criminal Minds

Aaron Hotchner

Derek Morgan

Spencer Reid

Game of Thrones

Bronn

Jaime Lannister

Jon Snow

Robb Stark

Goosebumps

James Etten

Lucas Parker

Gossip Girl

Chuck Bass

Eric Van Der Woodsen

Nate Archibald

Grey’s Anatomy

George O’Malley

Mark Sloan

IT

Bill Denbrough

Eddie Kaspbrak

Richie Tozier

Jujustu Kaisen

Megumi Fushiguro

Satoru Gojo

Toge Inumaki

Yuji Itadori

Lab Rats

Chase Davenport

Malcolm In The Middle

Francis Wilkerson

Reese Wilkerson

Malcolm Wilkerson

Marvel

Bucky Barnes

Deadpool

Druig

Loki Laufeyson

Peter Parker (Tom’s or Andrew’s)

Steve Rogers

Thor 

Wolverine

My Babysitter’s a Vampire

Benny Weir

Ethan Morgan

My Hero Academia

Denki Kaminari

Eijiro Kirishima

Hitoshi Shinsou

Izuku Midoriya

Katsuki Bakugo

Keigo Takami

Shota Aizawa

Shoto Todoroki

Takami Amajiki

NCIS (LA and the original)

Anthony DiNozzo

Eric Beale

G. Callen

Jimmy Palmer

Marty Deeks

Timothy McGee

Nerve

Tommy Mancuso

New Girl

Coach

Nick Miller

Schmidt

Winston Bishop

Now You See Me

Jack Wilder

Outerbanks

JJ Maybank

John B.

Pope

Rafe Cameron

Topper

Percy Jackson

Percy

Pretty Little Liars

Caleb Rivers

Holden Strauss

Jason DiLaurentis

Mike Montgomery

Noel Kahn

Toby Cavanaugh

Shadowhunters

Alec Lightwood

Jace Herondale

Simon Lewis

Shameless

Ian Gallagher

Kevin Ball

Lip Gallagher

Smallville

Clark Kent

Lex Luthor

Stranger Things

Dustin Henderson

Steve Harrington

Supernatural

Castiel

Dean Winchester

Jack Kline

Sam Winchester

T@GGED

Ash Franklin

Brandon Darrow

Trevor Askill

Teen Wolf

Derek Hale

Isaac Lahey

Scott McCall

Stiles Stilinski

Titans

Dick Grayson (Nightwing)

Gar Logan (Beast Boy)

Jason Todd (Red Hood)

The 100

Bellamy Blake

Jasper Jordan

Monty Green

The Chilling Adventures of Sabrina

Ambrose Spellman

Harvey Kinkle

Nicholas Scratch

The Hunger Games

Finnick Odair

Peeta Mellark

The Maze Runner

Minho

Newt

Thomas

The Middle

Axl Heck

Sean Donahue

The OC

Luke Ward

Ryan Atwood

Seth Cohen

The Originals

Elijah Mikaelson

Klaus Mikaelson

Kol Mikaelson

The Outsiders

Darry Curtis

Dallas Winston

Sodapop Curtis

The Rookie

John Nolan

Tim Bradford

The Umbrella Academy

Five Hargreeves

The Vampire Diaries

Damon Salvatore

Jeremy Gilbert

Kai Parker

Stefan Salvatore

The Walking Dead

Carl Grimes

Daryl Dixon

Glenn Rhee

Negan Smith

Rick Grimes

True Blood

Eric Northman

Jason Stackhouse

Sam Merlotte

Twilight

Emmett Cullen

Jasper Hale

Paul Lahote

Seth Clearwater

Wizards of Waverly Place

Justin Russo

Real people:

5 Seconds of Summer members (all)

Ateez members (all)

Cody Fern

Jamie Muscato

Sam and Colby

Stray Kids members (all)

The Boyz (all)

Tomorrow x Together members (all)

Request form: https://docs.google.com/forms/d/e/1FAIpQLSdf15DK07JIGzKMNPC2FrEgP7ces4KfIxTngYcNwvmusaXxGA/viewform?usp=sf_link

[shinyasahalo]

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