#derek would fight his resting bitch face so hard if he knew it was hurtful for his son

[rftwfic]

Thinking about notoriously stoic Derek Hale being so open and expressive (for him) with his son. Thinking about 19 year old Derek staring at the course catalog at NYU signing up for his next semester classes and putting down Intro to Child Psychology to meet his social sciences requirement because he has the same morbid curiosity we all do of wanting to know why we're fucked up the way we are. Thinking about Derek with baby Eli sitting in a high chair, engaging him and emoting at him because he knows to do otherwise would hurt his pup. Thinking about the rest of the pack being confused because they've never seen Derek like this before and it's kind of creeping them out, meanwhile Stiles, who seems to know more about the Hales than anyone besides the Hales themselves, doesn't know why everyone is so confused, because Derek grew up with a bunch of little siblings and cousins, obviously he's good with kids.

[snipsnsnailsnwerewolftales]

Blue Moon - Part 2

A/N: See masterlist for prompts used. (And the list of amazing people who have helped me with this.) I apologize for how angsty this one got. I tried to mix in sass and fluff to lighten the load, but by nature, it’s just kinda heavy/heavier than the other parts. I promise the next parts have fluff abounding, mixed in with angst, of course. If you need to refresh yourself on the warnings for this story, this would be a good chapter to do so. It gets a bit graphic and dramatic, just like the show, haha! But just to be on the safe side, if you want to make sure, head to the masterlist to refresh your memory.

I do not own Teen Wolf or it’s characters. Sadly.

Warnings: See Masterlist

Word count: 2,105

Xxx

When you walked into the loft a few short minutes later, Derek’s alarm that someone was trespassing was blaring. He walked over to it and slammed his fist against it, stopping the blaring alarm and blinking light. His eyes searched the loft in the eerie silence that followed, only for the pack members to emerge from behind various walls with hands over their ears, or from out on the balcony. 

You couldn’t contain your giggle at Stiles’ especially pained expression of both annoyance and also fear that Derek would finally follow through on many years of threats. 

“What’s going on?” Derek boomed, and you snickered as more eye rolls were given than jumps at his loud tone and glowing red eyes.

He turned his gaze on you briefly, but you kept your spine straight. After having to sit through a nauseating phone call between him and Jennifer in the car the whole way over here, he deserved it. 

Taking a few steps further into the loft, you tossed down your duffel bag of clothes, inspecting the alarm box. “Damn, Derek. You almost dented the thing. What did it ever do to you?”

“Is this a bad time?” 

Turning at the voice that had the hairs on the back of your neck standing up, you saw none other than Jennifer. You felt a growl brewing in your gut and you took a threatening step forward, fighting any physical evidence of being a werewolf for the sake of the pack. 

Derek was quick to blink away his red glow, but you noticed he didn’t really care if she saw it, and that pissed you off even more. 

Stiles came up and gently grabbed your elbow, tugging you back with the rest of them, not even flinching when you turned yellow eyes on him. “It’s okay, Y/N.”

Looking back, you met Derek’s gaze, once again red. He spoke slowly, but you lived with him and knew him well enough to hear the menace in his tone. “Back off.”

Taking her into the hallway and closing the front door behind him, Derek tried to talk her into leaving, promising to see her soon, and to add to your nauseating annoyance, they shared a brief kiss. 

Turning to Stiles, you hissed through your teeth. “She’s brainwashed him. I swear. No human sees that for as short a time as she has and doesn’t even flinch when an Alpha glows his eyes at her.”

“Why would she do that?” Stiles scoffed. 

“I don’t know. But she is an English teacher. If anyone can do it, it’s her.”

Stiles snorted a laugh. “Good grammar? That’s your argument? Oh come on, Y/N. Next thing you’ll be accusing her of being in cahoots with the Alpha Pack, or, or! Maybe, she’s the one ritualistically sacrificing people!” He was laughing loudly, bending over at the waist with the effort now.

“Oh, she’s something.” You huffed, looking at the still closed door. “For now, she’s just my least favorite bit-”

The door slid open to an angry looking Derek. He leveled his gaze on you, which you met with your own stare. 

“Is it gone?” you asked quietly, smirking almost imperceptibly. 

The rest of the pack meeting went by in a blur, the only things you gleaned from it was something about a club downtown to try and trap some Omega or something, and that Derek was an ass to you. 

Your friends filed out of the loft as you went to get changed for training, which you weren’t looking forward to. You knew Derek was going to kick your ass on purpose. 

As you made your way over to the mats to stretch briefly, eyeing Derek angrily the whole time, he ignored you. 

Rising to your feet, you shook your limbs to release any final tension you could and asked as calmly as you could, “What should we do as a warm up today?”

Before Derek could answer the alarm was blaring again, and your friends’ faces painted in fear was the next thing you noticed before a long clawed hand smashed the alarm box off the wall. 

Kali. 

Pointing a menacing claw to the balcony and looking at your friends, they all filed silently outside. “I can’t hurt any of you, Deucalion’s orders, so don’t test me.” Looking to Ethan and Aiden, she spoke gruffly. “Make sure they stay out there.” Looking to you with an evil smile, she took a step closer. “I want them to have a good view of what happens in here.”

Starting to circle you, she chuckled a little. “You want a warm up? How about me?” Her eyes glowed red before she launched at you with a snarl. 

You wrapped in her swiping arms, twisting with her until you could spin away and put distance between you again. “Fine by me,” you huffed, taking a deep breath and smirking. 

Circling one another, she sneered. “Little Beta, Derek’s precious little new one, you’re no match for me.”

“We’ll see,” you grinned, running at her and sliding between her legs set in a wide spread stance, kicking behind you to knock her knees out from under her, causing her to drop to them on the hard cement floor. 

Snarling, she pivoted back to you as you still smirked, rolling out of the way when she launched at you again, this time with a growl. 

You let yourself chuckle. “This is fun!” You glanced to Derek, ignoring his obvious want to jump into the fight. Looking back to Kali, you grinned brightly. “What else you got?”

She went to sweep your legs out from under you suddenly, but you easily jumped out of the way, jumping on top of her as her whole body was low to the ground in the attempt. 

Your hips straddled her waist, your knees pushing into her rib cage making it hard for her to breathe, and held her hands beside her head. “I win.” Your grin brightened. “Tag. You’re it.”

You could hear Stiles laugh in triumph outside the window, and you glanced at him. Kali took advantage of your momentary distraction and smashed her head into yours, loosening your grip on her, and getting to her feet as you staggered back, hand cradling your forehead. You felt the blood temporarily running down your face until your nose healed. 

Pulling your hand down to where the blood was and pulling it away to briefly glance at it, you twisted up your features and hissed at a smug Kali, “Bitch!”

Jumping and launching at her, you swiped to fake her out, grabbing her wrist when she blocked you and twisting it behind her as you also went over and behind her, landing with a thud on your feet firmly, and leveraging her with the arm firmly in your grasp over you to the floor behind you. Her hand still in your grip, as she tried to catch her breath, the wind knocked out of her, you grabbed her other hand and rolled her under your grasp just enough to pin her hands under her back, placing your whole weight on top of her now, straddling her thighs, knees digging into her sides and your hands holding her shoulders down, and thus also her arms. 

“Would you look at that?” you said in fake awe. “I did all of that without any claws or fangs.” You leaned in close to her face, letting your yellow eyes glow brightly. “But you didn’t really think I wouldn’t flash these beauties after taking down an Alpha, now, did you?”

The tapping of Deucalion’s cane came to the front door, followed by a droll, “Are you done, Kali?”

The rest went by in a blur. Somehow you ended up under Kali with your head being pinned down to the floor, along with your stomach being pressed to the floor by a heavy foot you soon realized was Ennis once she passed you off to go and do what she came to do to Derek. 

You were forced to watch in horror, the cries of your pack on the balcony drowned out after the first few, nothing but your heartbeat and Derek’s meeting your ears. You tried to calm yours down to help him also remain calm, trying to reduce the pool of blood spreading from the pole Kali had rammed through his chest. 

Your head pinned to the floor, you could only watch or shut your eyes, any struggle proving futile against the large Alpha. You didn’t dare close your eyes, you kept trying to meet Derek’s, but he kept them averted out of what almost looked more like shame than pain. The one time they did fleetingly meet, you forced a smile on your face, trying to coax one out of him, and you could have sworn the slightest twitch of his lips up was the most beautiful thing you had ever seen in that moment.

He closed his eyes briefly at that point, and you kept the smile firmly on your face, though your voice was obviously broken, fighting back tears. 

“Hey, Derek,” you said quietly, not wanting to anger the room full of Alphas. It was already almost overbearing being the only Beta in the room. “Derek?” He opened his eyes and looked at you with a gentle smile and you decided that was even more beautiful than before. “Hey. I’m okay, Derek. I’m fine. So is everybody else.” You glanced at the balcony to show him what you meant before meeting his gaze again, smile still firmly on your face. It was purely to help put him at ease, because all you wanted to do was scream and cry and kick and beat an Alpha’s butt for doing anything to him.

“I’m okay. You’re okay. Well, you will be,” you chuckled, and he also let a small laugh pass his lips before he started coughing up blood, which made your worry rise. You didn’t think it could go any higher.

“Derek! Hey! Derek, it’s okay. We’re all okay. Just listen to him and we’ll figure it out.” He was having trouble breathing. “We always do.”

Tears started streaming down your face despite all your efforts, and you held back the ugly sob you felt brewing in your throat. 

His eyes snapping open after he took a labored breath through his nose, he glanced at you wide eyed, and you realized the pheromones had probably tipped him off. Damn senses. 

They finished their evil speech, pulled the bar from his chest, and released you, leaving you to scramble over to him at neck breaking speeds. 

They took the rod once in his chest and used it to lock the balcony door, keeping the rest of your pack out there, but they were all safe, and they just looked on through the window in silence. 

Cradling Derek’s head in your lap, you ran your fingers through his hair. “Hey, hey, stay with me. You don’t get out of this that easy. Stay awake. You need to stay awake, Derek. Stay with me.”

He reached up, placing a hand on your wrist limply, and you had flashbacks to just hours before in your house before he got the phone call. His smile weak, he gave a just as weak squeeze. “I’m not going anywhere. I’m stubborn, remember? You can’t get rid of me that easy.”

“Damn it,” you mocked, making him chuckle, and a little bit of color returned to his cheeks as he healed. 

His face turned somber. “You know what they’re asking me to do, right?”

You nodded. “I know what they’re telling you to do. And I know we will find a way to fix it. We always do. Plus, if you didn’t see, I’m a badass.” You grinned. 

He grinned as well, a soft chuckle passing his lips. “Yeah you are. That was pretty epic. Who taught you to fight? They must be pretty amazing. Like, almost as good as me.”

You laughed loudly, laying his head down on the floor again, softly, and ignoring his groan. “I’m going to let the others in so they can help me get you off this floor with the least amount of pain for you and clean all this up.” Realizing how much blood was on the floor, you went back to his face, resting a hand on his forehead and raking it back over his hair, resting it on top of his head. “I’m really glad you’re okay, Derek. I don’t know what I would do without you.”

“Both sentiments are mutual,” he huffed, smiling mischievously. 

Xxx

Tags: @mayahart02, @palaiasaurus64, @shydinosaurcandy, @lucyqueenofthestars, @c-breanne1999, @l4life, @ethereallysimple, @teenwolffan-with-nolife, @bellabadacadabra, @lilostif16, @wandas-love, @emily500, @babygirl-angel-love What’s This?

[heymacy]

I love all those sentence prompts you just posted.😂 But I feel like the most appropriate one is probably:

“So why did I have to punch that guy?”

Thank you Arrow!! 💗

Ridiculous Sentence Prompts: "So why did I have to punch that guy?"

--

There were only a few things left in the world that made Mickey really, really angry.

The first was their property manager, Melanie, and her stupid-ass dog with its stupid, stupid diaper.

The second was the fact that a single can of beer cost four times more on the West Side than it did back in their old neighborhood. What special brand of bullshit were these crunchy granola hippies trying to churn out at the Wine, Etc. store, anyway?

The third thing, and probably the only one that would stick around after he adjusted to his new life above the poverty line, was any time that anyone disrespected, hurt, or even mildly annoyed his husband.

Every time they dealt with an irritating client or an overzealous new employee, Mickey would clench his teeth and fight the urge to knock them on their ass. One hit was all it would take, he knew that for certain. He'd taken down Ian's exes, family members, hell, even Ian himself on a few occasions, with a single punch to the throat.

Now, he was an adult, a business owner, a husband and partner that needed to play by society's rules if they were ever going to crawl out of the gutter completely.

The very idea made Mickey's teeth ache.

He bit his bottom lip while they sat side-by-side in their booth at the Alibi, waiting for some schmuck to meet them for an interview.

"We need to start interviewing the guys we hire, Mickey," Ian had said one night while cooking dinner. He chopped the carrots and celery on the wooden cutting board while Mickey sat slumped on the couch, nursing a beer and watching a TikTok Mandy had sent him earlier that day.

He looked up at his husband as he watched an orange and white cat chow down on kibble after his automatic feeder malfunctioned.

Mandy 🌻 (6:09pm): plz tell ian this is him in cat form

Mickey snorted at his phone, barely registering Ian's comment.

"Mick?" Ian tried again, and Mickey looked up from his phone.

"Hmm?" he replied through a mouthful of beer.

"I said we need to start interviewing the guys we hire," Ian said again, using the knife to scrape the carrots and celery off of the cutting board and into the giant pot he had boiling on the stove. Mickey wasn't sure what he was making, but it smelled amazing.

"What for? Those resumé things ain't good enough for you?" Mickey's mouth quirked up on the side as he tried to hide a smirk.

Ian rolled his eyes and used the comically oversized wooden spoon to stir his soup.

"No, Mick. So we don't have another Connor situation."

Mickey snorted. Connor was a dipshit they'd hired back in April to help with pickups, a dipshit that had cost the company almost $2,500 after he "forgot" to make the deposit with Ian and Mickey at the end of his scheduled route.

"I mean, his name's Connor. Kinda feel like you should've known what you were walkin' in to with that one."

"I'm serious," Ian said. "Interviews. We gotta do 'em." He stirred the soup vigorously, the spoon clanking against the side of the pot with every twist.

Mickey sighed deeply and rolled his eyes.

"Fine, we'll interview some new guys. But we're not doing it at a Starbucks or some shit. I'm not ready to go full West Side." He scrunched up his nose and made a face, to which Ian just chuckled.

"Glad you're on board," he teased, getting back to work on his soup, which had started to bubble.

--

Kev and Vee had moved to Louisville a month before, transferring ownership of the bar to Carl and Officer Tipping, who promised to keep everything just as it was. It gave Mickey a sense of calm knowing that even as the rest of his old neighborhood was slipping away, his adolescent stomping grounds now littered with coffee shops and yoga studios, some things remained the same.

He ran his fingers along the familiar crack in the table, a sharp sensation prodding the pads of his fingertips and helping him forget, even temporarily, what they were there to do.

Ian smacked the back of Mickey's hand gently.

"Stop it," he said, referring to the way Mickey was two seconds away from giving himself a splinter.

Mickey huffed and rolled his eyes.

"What's this guy's name again?"

Ian looked at his phone where he had an email pulled up. He glanced over the message then scrolled to the bottom.

"Derek," he said plainly.

"Derek," Mickey mocked, and Ian whacked him in the chest with the back of his hand.

"Knock it off," he said, and Mickey rolled his eyes again.

"Whatever. He's late anyway, let's just bail and go get some pizza."

"He's not late, Mickey. It's only..." he looked at his watch. "3:58. He's got three minutes until he's late."

Just then, as if summoned by Ian's voice, a tall, lanky, blond man walked through the front door of the bar and made his way towards the back corner booth where Ian and Mickey sat.

"You guys Ian and Mackie?"

Ian snorted as he tried to hide his laughter. Mickey rolled his eyes a third time, this time so hard that it was honestly impressive he didn't snap his optic nerves in the process.

"Mickey," Ian corrected politely. He nudged his husband with his elbow and the two of them climbed out of the booth to meet with their interviewee.

Ian shook his hand firmly.

"I'm Ian, and this is my husband Mickey." He smiled and turned to Mickey, who was standing with his hands in his pockets and giving Derek, all six feet two inches of him, an intense once-over. Elbowing his husband for a second time, Mickey relented, pulling his hands from his pockets and reaching out to shake Derek's hand. His giant palm was cold and clammy but also somehow uncomfortably hot. Mickey grimaced.

"Hey," he said gruffly. "Mickey."

"Derek," the other man said as they shook hands. "So you two are married?"

Ian nodded.

"Little over a year now, yeah."

Derek nodded.

"Cool, cool, cool," he said, nodding and looking around. "So this place is...interesting."

The judgmental and condescending way Derek said "interesting" wasn't new or unusual to either of them, but tall lanky blond bitches with North Side energy and a terrible fade saying "interesting" like they wanted to say "disgusting" made Mickey's blood boil.

He clenched his fist without even realizing what he was doing. Ian noticed immediately when Mickey's shoulders tensed up, stiffening in a way that reminded Ian of a startled cat, and he turned to climb back in the booth. He squeezed Mickey's arm once, twice, and dragged him down into the booth with him.

"It was a family friend's place," Ian said, nonchalant, eager to move the conversation away from the Alibi and towards their business. "So, Derek, on your resume, I see that you worked--"

Derek cut Ian off mid-sentence.

"Have they ever thought about turning this place into some sort of art installation or something? Just with the open floor plan and the exposed pipes, it's very pseudo-industrial-chic."

If they hadn't already assumed before by his distinct vocal fry and the smell of coconut hair gel, Derek's use of the term "pseudo-industrial-chic" solidified what the other two already knew: there were three gay motherfuckers in this booth.

Ian stuttered for a second, surprised by Derek's interjection and resistance to changing the subject.

"Don't think so, no." He grabbed his phone and opened up the Gmail app again. "So, anyway, your resume says you worked at--"

"You know what would be really cool in here? A movement class. I went to one in LA once that was hosted by Gwyneth Paltrow and it was liberating."

Mickey snorted and Ian elbowed him in the ribs.

"I bet it was," Ian said, unamused at Derek's refusal to talk about his work history. "So you worked at--"

"Have you guys ever been to LA? Oh my god, it's the best. So chic. I mean, I'm from Evanston originally, so basically anything is chic in comparison. I mean, not here, obviously, but you know. Other places."

Ian sighed.

"Totally," he said. "So, your work history, it says--"

"Hey, do you guys know what the best dispensary is around here? Preferably something upscale, with those iPads you can order on. I need a few new carts--"

"Dude," Mickey cut in. "Can you shut the fuck up for five seconds?"

Derek looked surprised, and Mickey could hear Ian's sharp, apprehensive inhale.

"Excuse me?" Derek said, holding his hand to his chest.

"He's been trying to ask you the same question since we sat down, and you won't shut the fuck up about chic cities and weed, so if you could just answer our questions, that would be great." He looked over at Ian, whose eyes were wide and hesitant, unsure about how things were about to unfold.

"You're very rude," Derek said to Mickey, giving him a scowl.

Mickey snorted.

"Yeah, tell me something I don't know."

Derek's eyes narrowed and his forehead wrinkled up, agitated.

"You should be nicer to the people you want to hire." He crossed his arms over his chest like a petulant child.

Mickey laughed out loud.

"Dude, who says we wanna hire you? I'm pretty sure if you worked for us, I'd blow my brains out in the first two minutes."

Ian tried and failed miserably to conceal his laughter, covering his mouth with his hand and looking down at the table. Mickey leaned over towards his husband.

"I kinda wanna punch this guy in the mouth," he mumbled, and Ian side-eyed him from where he sat beside him.

"Please don't," he replied in a whisper before composing himself and turning back to Derek.

"Look, Derek, you seem like a nice guy, but I don't think this is gonna work out." He held out his hand to signal that the interview was over, but Derek didn't return his handshake. Instead, he pouted like a toddler that had just been scolded for bad behavior.

"Your husband's a dick," Derek said to Ian, and Mickey could literally feel Ian's body stiffen next to him.

"Hey," Mickey said, putting his hand on Ian's knee. "Forget it. Let's go get pizza."

"No," Ian said sternly, turning back to Derek. "Listen, dude, you're also kind of a dick, so why don't we just call this a wash and you can go track down your carts or whatever."

Mickey bit his lip, fighting a smile. He secretly loved when Ian got defensive, as long as it wasn't directed towards him.

"You're both dicks!" Derek said, slamming his hands down on the table. He slid out of the booth and stood up, and Mickey and Ian did the same. The three men stood there, Derek facing the husbands with a pissed-off expression.

"You should go," Ian said, pointing at the door.

Derek snorted.

"I guess I shouldn't be surprised. When the ad said South Side, I knew there was a good chance the owners were a couple of trashy, ghetto assholes. But him?" He pointed at Mickey. "He's a world-class dick."

Before Derek could say anything else, he was cut off by a fist to the jaw and dropped to the floor, unconscious.

The ambient chatter and loud clacking of billiard balls came to a halt as the regulars that sat scattered around the Alibi turned in unison to see what had happened. Once they identified the source of the loud "thud" as one of the Gallagher-Milkovich boys knocking out some blond giant, they immediately turned back to their various activities.

Just another day on the South Side.

Ian cupped his right fist in his left hand and turned to Mickey, bewildered.

"I just punched that guy, Mick," he said, genuinely surprised. "I knocked him out. Shit."

Mickey shrugged.

"He kinda deserved it."

Ian looked at Mickey with a really? sort of expression and shook his head back and forth.

"Still," he said, turning to look at Derek, sprawled out unconscious on the floor like a rag doll.

"C'mon man, it's fine. He'll come to, and when he does, we'll be long gone." He grabbed Ian's upper arm and gave him a tug, but Ian just sat back down in the booth.

"Why did I do that?" he asked, but Mickey knew he was talking only to himself. He sat down beside his husband, stepping over Derek's long ass leg on his way back to the booth.

"I mean, you kinda had to."

Ian looked over at Mickey, eyebrows raised. He stared at his husband for a moment, puzzling, before breaking into a smile.

"What?" Mickey asked, confused as to how Ian could go from having some sort of moral crisis over knocking out a hipster to grinning gleefully at his husband in a half second. Ian reached over and put his hand on Mickey's thigh. Immediately, the mood shifted. Pool cues squeaked as they were chalked up and glasses clinked on the countertops. The distinct chhh-chhh sound of a spray bottle punctured Mickey's ear drums as he looked down at his husband's hand on his thigh.

"So," Ian said, voice quieter than before. "Why did I have to punch that guy?"

Mickey smirked. He could be honest, and say the obvious reason, which was that Derek was a total douche canoe and deserved to be socked in the mouth by someone his own size. He could lie, and say it was because Derek seemed dangerous and Ian was just following his instincts, but that would have been the lie of the fucking century.

Instead, he said neither, and opted for something he knew would make Ian smile.

"Because you love me."

Ian's face broke into a full grin and he giggled, leaning over to kiss his husband once, quickly, well-aware of Mickey's hesitancy towards PDA when they were out and about on the South Side.

When he pulled back, he was smirking, and Mickey knew his cheeks were flushed. He hadn't been expecting the kiss, however brief it was, and his stomach felt a little fluttery.

"I mean, I'm not the kind of guy that just stands by and lets people talk shit about the man he loves." He grinned and Mickey rolled his eyes, remembering Ian telling him about the last words he'd said to Glittery Twink Byron the night they'd gotten engaged.

"You're a fuckin' sap, man."

"True," Ian said, standing up from the booth and stepping over Derek's leg as Mickey had done minutes before. He reached out his hand and pulled his husband from the booth. The two of them stood there momentarily, staring at Derek's lump of a body on the sticky, peanut-shell covered floor.

"Should we like, do something?" Mickey asked, kicking Derek's foot with his own boot. The man didn't move a muscle. Mickey wondered for a second if he might be dead, but the shallow rise and fall of the douche canoe's chest let him know that unfortunately, for all of humankind, the asshole was still alive.

Ian shook his head.

"Nah, he can sleep it off."

He reached down and took Mickey's hand in his own.

"C'mon," he said as he dragged them both towards the door. "Let's go get pizza."

[your-eternal-muse]

Half As Pretty

Heather Series Part 5

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

The Song Mentioned in the chapter, Poison and Wine by The Civil Wars aka, the song that made me sob because it was too perfect for this damn fic. I recommend listening to it while you read the part its mentioned in.

Summery: Reader is experiencing her own personal hell, but one midnight confession sets everything ablaze.

Words: 3.4k I told y’all it’d be longer.

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of nicotine addiction, the beginning of an alcohol addiction, suicidal thoughts, slight manipulation from one Derek Morgan, and just a whole lotta hurt.

Paring: Spencer Reid x Heather Charmical, eventual (I promise) Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

A/N: Okay.....I’m finna be real honest.....I was listening to my music on shuffle when Poison and Wine came on, and I started crying while typing, and than I re-listened to it while typing this up and proceeded to cry again. It took me about 3 minutes of psyching myself up to write ONE sentence near the end of it because I knew there was no going back once I wrote it. This was so hard to write in the most beautiful way possible, and I really hope you guys enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Shout out to @toosassy2handle​ for the recommendation of Heather's last name. It’s long and annoying and just reminds me of a stuck up bitch so its perfect.

~~~~~~

I used to love weddings.

They were always so well put together.

I’d always admire the pretty bride, the dress, everything.

I dreamed of having one of my own one day. And when I met Spencer, those daydreams changed so that I was walking down the aisle towards him instead of someone whose face I could never quite focus on.

But that’s all I’m ever going to have. Daydreams.

Because here I sit, all dolled up next to his mother, at none other than Spencer Reid’s wedding.

It’s obvious Heather did most of the planning.

I don’t take him as a ‘dusty rose’ type of person.

I stare at the soft colors and delicate flowers, and fire burns deep within me.

I want to burn this place to the ground.

I can’t, though.

I’m supportive.

I’m happy for Spencer.

I’m happy that he’s happy.

I’m happy.

I’m happy.

I’m happy.

I look down at my hands, playing with the hem of my burgundy party dress.

I don’t think I’ve been this dressed up since….

I think I threw that dress away when I got home that night.

I don’t remember much of that night after coming back to the table.

I’m positive I drank at least half the champagne they had.

Derek had to carry me home.

“My son didn’t plan any of this.”

I look over, and see Diana scowling at the decor. 

I can’t help but let a small smile spread across my face.

At least she agrees with me.

I lean in closer to her, so our words can only be heard by us.

“I completely agree. He’s more of a ‘dark academia’ kind of guy.”

She smiles at me, reaching her hand over, and patting my leg. “You know when he told me he was getting married, I thought it was going to be to you.”

My heart stops. “Y-You did?”

She nods, looking around the room like she hadn’t just said something that made my world stop spinning. “I didn’t meet Heather until a week after he told me. That’s when I learned that they were dating in the first place. I can’t say I wasn’t disappointed.”

I bring a hand up to my mouth, covering the smile and laugh threatening to spill.

“But she makes him happy. Anyone can see that.”

The smile falls, and the laugh dies.

“Though, he did bring you to meet me not too long after meeting you himself.”

I nod, remembering the trip. “It had been a month. I had known him for a month, and he really wanted me to meet you. I was so nervous. I really wanted you to like me.”

Her smile is big, and her hand finds one laying in my lap, squeezing it.

“I liked you the minute he told me about you.”

I loved Diana.

I will always love Diana.

I open my mouth to say something, but someone a few rows back says ‘Here comes the groom.’

I turn my head, and low and behold, there he is, walking with the biggest smile on his face towards the front. He stands, with his hands clasped in front of him, as he waits like the rest of us.

He looks stunning, in a simple black and white tux.

His eyes meet mine, and I smile at him.

He winks back at me.

The moment doesn’t last long before a song starts, and a hush falls over the crowd.

Slowly, one by one, bridesmaids and groomsmen make their way down the aisle. 

Derek is the best man, and he pats Spencer's shoulder as he takes his position behind him.

And then the music shifts, and while she starts to walk, something dawns on me.

I will never be as pretty as she is.

She’s breathtaking.

She’s practically glowing in the white satin ballgown, a bouquet of roses clutched in her hands.

She’s looking around at the crowd, smiling and nodding and it’s only when she’s halfway down the aisle that she meets his eyes.

I look at him, and I don’t think there are any words that can explain the look of pure joy written across his face.

JJ, who is sitting beside me, reaches over and grabs my free hand, giving it a comforting squeeze.

She reaches the front, and all eyes are trained on her, but I can’t tear mine away from him.

He holds her hand so delicately, and I can see him fighting back tears.

I don’t even notice when vows are said and rings are exchanged. I only notice when I see JJ look at me from the corner of her eye as the officiant says “If anyone has any objection to the marriage of these two people, speak now, or forever hold your peace.”

For a moment, I think about it.

“Me! I do!”

The crowd gasps as I make my way towards the front.

“I do. I object.”

His eyes are wide and she looks furious.

“Why do you object?” The officiant says, startled.

“Because I love you.” I’m looking directly at him.

“I love you, Spencer.”

No.

No, I can’t.

I’d lose everything.

You’d be a selfish bitch is what you would be.

“Then do you, Heather Charmical, take Spencer Reid to be your lawfully wedded husband?”

“I do.”

Tears are lipping out of my eyes, though my eyes are not the only wet ones in the room.

I can blame it on the emotions. I wouldn’t be technically lying.

“And do you, Spencer Reid, take Heather Charmical, to be your lawfully wedded wife?”

Please say no.

“I do.”

I don’t have a heart anymore.

This just confirmed it.

“Then by the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may now kiss the bride.”

He takes her face between her hands, and places his lips on hers in a passionate kiss.

That’s it.

They’re married.

People clap and cheer, and they lock hands, walking back down the aisle, now together by law.

I want to puke.

People start to get up, and I suddenly can’t breath.

My chest rises and falls, and I shoot a glance at JJ, before making my way through the crowd as respectively as possible to leave the room as quickly as I can.

I look down to my bag once I make my way into the vast hallway, digging and searching for my cigarettes when I ram into someone, dropping my purse, and spilling the contents over the smooth tile floor.

“Fuck.”

“Hey hey hey, what’s the rush baby girl?”

I look up to see Derek, kneeling down to help me pick up my stuff.

“I just, I just um,”

Breath, y/n, just fucking breath.

“I just really need to find a bathroom. I shouldn’t have drank all that tea before coming here.”

I shove things back into my purse, not even really looking, before standing back up.

“I’ll find you and Pen in a bit. Promise.” 

I don’t wait for him to answer, turning and walking away before he gets a chance to speak.

I’ll find a bathroom eventually.

~~~~

When is an appropriate time to leave the wedding of your best friend, whom you're secretly in love with, without seeming rude?

Because I need to leave.

I’m afraid of what I’ll do if I don’t.

My right leg is crossed over my left, shaking with every anxious heartbeat.

People have plates full of food, and are mingling with drinks from the open bar, another thing that I know for a fact Spencer had nothing to do with.

I’ve barely touched the food on my plate, my appetite gone, at least not for anything other than the fruity little cocktails that keep appearing in front of me.

I’m about to get up and find someone, probably JJ, that I got sick in the ladies room, and to tell Spencer I’m sorry, when he walks up to where I’m seated, his hand outstretched for me.

“Come dance with me.”

The liquor in my system makes me giggle.

“I thought you didn’t like dancing?”

“I’ll make an exception for my favorite girl.”

Don’t let Heather hear you say that.

I place my hand in his, and let him lead me to the dance floor, where he spins me, before bringing me in close to him, resting a hand on my hip, and grasping my left hand with his other.

My hand not in his rests comfortably on his upper arm, and we sway, back and forth to the soft music.

My heart is pounding in my chest, and I’m positive he can feel every heartbeat through the layers of our clothing. 

The lights are soft, and the music is gentle. If I close my eyes, and don’t think about it, I can imagine that this is our first dance, at our wedding that will never happen.

“Thank you, for coming y/n.”

My eyes open, and I can’t hide from him anymore. His eyes don’t falter from my own, and his smile is small.

“Of course I’d come. Why wouldn’t you think I would?”

“I don’t know. You’ve seemed off these past couple months. I didn’t know if you’d be up for it.”

Shit shit shit.

I laugh off my panic. “Spence, I could be bleeding out on my apartment floor, and I would still make it here. You mean everything to me. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

He grimaces at the thought of me dying, but the words that follow erase the worry on his face. “You’d tell me if something was wrong right? Everything’s okay?”

I smile at him, placing my head against his shoulder so I don’t have to look him in the eye when I lie. “Everything is fine. I’m okay. I promise.”

You’ve gotten way too good at lying to him. What’s gonna happen when he finds out? About your secret? About how it's getting harder and harder for you to get out of bed in the morning because it’s just not worth it anymore? Or about your depleting alcohol cabinet, since every night you seem to think drowning out your sorrows will make it easier to sleep?

He rests his chin on my head and we just sway back and forth to the music. 

His fingers start gently playing with my own, and I hear him softly singing to himself as we dance.

“Oh, your hands can heal, your hands can bruise.” His hand moves from my hip to my lower back, holding me there against him as he continues to sing. 

“I don’t have a choice, but I still choose you.”

I move my face farther into his shoulder, like I could disappear if I wanted to. This feels too intimate, feels too wrong. I should step away and congratulate him, tell him to go find his wife for god's sake, and leave with my dignity still intact. 

But I don’t want to. I’ve dreamed of him holding me like this, and the words he’s whispering I know are for only me to hear.

“Oh I don’t love you, but I always will. I don’t love you, but I always will.”

Whoever the dj is, deserves a raise, because while this song is totally not for a wedding, it’s perfect for this moment.

“I always will. I always will.”

The song ends, and we stand, still together, for a second longer than we probably should. 

“I’m sorry to break you two up, but I was wondering if I could convince my son to dance with his mother.” 

Diana’s voice is soft, and I smile against his shoulder before moving back, removing myself from him. 

His eyes are wet.

“Of course, Diana. He’s all yours.” 

She turns to me before I walk away, pushing stray hairs out of my face, fixing my necklaces and smoothing out my dress. “Heather looked like she was about to burst into flames. I thought I’d save you from a public sacrifice.”

Fuck.

“Thank you, Diana.” 

She kisses my forehead before turning back to Spencer, and I use the time to walk back over to my table, grab my purse and make my way out of the room. 

I find a balcony of sorts, and the cool December air cools my skin. 

I once again dig through my purse to find my cigarettes, pulling out the pack once I do. When I open it, however, I find it empty. 

I smoked my last one and didn’t even realize it.

“Damnit!” I crush it in my hands, before placing it back in my purse.

The sun is setting, and I can see my breath.

I walk forward to the stone railing, looking out over the small park below the building. The stone is rough beneath my palms, and dark spots appear as I cry for the second time today.

I don’t have a choice, but I still choose you.

He couldn’t have meant it the way I’m thinking he meant it. He was just singing along to a song he’s probably heard thousands of times the past couple months.

But it’s too perfect not to. 

Is it possible? Did he love me? If he did, does he still love me?

“Aren’t you cold, sweetheart?” Derek’s voice startles me, and I jump a little. 

“Uh, no. It feels nice. It was getting a little stuffy in there so I thought I would come get some air.” 

He hums, and walks up to stand beside me, his hands in his pockets. 

“You know, when you dropped your purse earlier, an envelope fell out.” 

My eyes widen.

“It didn’t have anything written on it, so I just assumed it was for Spencer and Heather and put it with the others. You seemed like you had other things on your mind so I thought I’d help.”

No no no no no no no no this isn’t happening. This isn’t real, he didn’t just give my love confession to the now married man it’s about and his wife. Oh my god, I’m gonna die.

“Y-You what?! No no no, that wasn’t meant for them. No no no. Holy shit.” I start pacing back and forth, combing my hands through what little of my hair was down.  

“I need to go get it. He’ll understand. It’s just a big mix up. He can’t have that envelope.”

I turn ready to run back into that room and make a scene when Derek speaks from behind me.

“You mean this envelope?” I turn and there he stands, holding it in his hand. 

My stomach rises from my feet. “Jesus fucking christ, Morgan. That’s not fucking funny.” I walk forward to grab it, but he’s taller than I am, and raises it out of my reach. “I never said it was.”

“Give it back, Derek.” Even in heels I can’t quite reach his hand.

“I will, once you tell me what's in it that gets you so worked up at the thought of Spencer having it.”

I don’t meet his eye as I reach for it again. “It’s nothing. It’s none of your business.”

“Baby girl, I see the way you look at him.” He grabs my wrist with his free hand, lowers himself so he can look at me straight on. “And that dance that you two just had? That’s not nothing and you know it.”

My lip trembles and I remove my arm from his grasp, walking back to the railing. 

If you jump, this could all end. You wouldn’t have to explain anything. It's a perfect cop out.

I pinch the bridge of my nose, my voice shuddery when I talk. “You have to promise not to tell anyone. Not even Penelope. And especially not Spencer.”

He stands close by my side, his eyes on my face as I stare out over the park. “I promise.”

Is this what having a heart attack feels like? 

I take a short breath in, it's all I can muster, and speak. 

“It’s a confession. I’m horrible with words, so I wrote it down to give it to him.”

“What were you confessing?” 

Tears resume to fall down my face, and I pinch at my cuticles. “That I’m in love with him.”

I feel Derek shift to look down at the railing, the envelope placed in between us.

“I confessed that I’m in love with him. That I have been since the moment I met him. I know how horrible it is, I know but I couldn’t keep it in any longer. Even if he never finds out, I needed to put it out there that I love him.”

“You’re in love with me?”

I choke on my breath, and my nails dig into the stone.

No. Please no. Please tell me this is all just a nightmare, and I’ll wake up this morning and it’ll have never happened.

My body is frozen, but I manage to turn to see him standing in the doorway, a look of pure shock written across his face.

He looks like I just slapped him.

“Spencer, oh my god.” It’s nothing more than a whisper, but it feels like a scream ripping from my chest.

“Y-You’re in love with me? When-, I-,” he runs his hands through his hair, and takes a step forward. 

I'm sobbing, and I can’t stop. This wasn’t supposed to happen. This was never supposed to happen. “Spencer, I-I’m sorry. I didn’t plan on you finding out like this.”

“When were you going to tell me?” His voice cracks, and I realize then that he’s not angry. He’s hurt.

I have to be honest with him now. I can’t lie to him. It’s over. The ruse is over. 

I’m finished.

My fists clench and unclench as I try my best to keep my emotions under control.

“I was going to tell you the day you introduced me to Heather.”

His eyes flicker to the envelope resting on the railing, and they gloss over for a second as he remembers that day.

“You told me-”

“I lied. I lied and said it was for my mom, but it wasn’t.” I cross my arms in front of me, a chill settling itself on my skin.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

I wish his voice would get louder. I wish he would scream at me. I deserve to be screamed at.

“You were dating someone, Spencer. You had been dating someone, and you had just introduced me to her. What would you have wanted me to do?”

“Not lie to me!” There we go. Get angry. Hate me.

“Why? What would you have done!? What would have happened if I didn’t care about your relationship with her and just given it to you?”

It’s getting darker, and the light pouring outside from the building is the only one to see by, so I can’t really make out his face.

“I don’t know! I have no idea of knowing, but I do know that I wish you wouldn’t have lied to me. You’ve been hiding from me, Y/N. Please stop hiding from me. I can help you.”

I roll my eyes, my vision going blurry from the tears. “No you can’t Spencer. You’re married. Did you forget that?”

He’s quiet, and I can see Derek shift his gaze from between us, not really knowing what to do. 

His voice is substantially softer when he speaks next. 

“Give me the letter.”

I choke back the noisy sobs. “No.”

He repeats himself, holding out his hand.

“Please, give me the letter.”

“Why?” I’m exhausted. Can’t this conversation just end?

“Because I need to know that you loved me like I loved you.”

Loved?

He just told you to your face, that while he may have loved you once upon a time, he doesn’t anymore. He doesn’t love you anymore. He doesn’t love you.

I can’t fight this anymore.

“Please don’t hide from me anymore.” He pleads, and I can feel myself beginning to go numb. Whether it’s from the cold, or my mind starting to shut down, I have no idea. 

I grab the envelope from where it sits, walking forward and handing it to him. 

He brings it to his jacket, tucking it safe inside one of the pockets. 

“I’ll call you. Okay? And we can talk this out.”

There’s no talking this out, Spencer. What’s done is done.

He looks between me and Derek, and without another word, he walks back into the building, shoulders tense, and head down.

This is it. This is the end of the line. Nothing will be the same.

“Y/n….”

I don’t respond. I just turn, grabbing my purse and walking down the stairway the leads to the park from the balcony. 

My tears leave hot streaks against my cold skin. 

A snowflake lands on my nose.

~~~

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[eunoiaflow3r]

Actions Speak Louder

A/N: the beginning hurt my heart to write lol, but I promise it gets better.

Warning: mistakes, angst, fluff... fem!reader.

Word Count: 2.41k

Request: Can you do a story where the reader x Spencer are in a heated argument and out of anger she slaps him?

Summary: Spencer becomes addicted to Dilaudid, and Y/N does what she can to help him - even if it takes him longer to realize how good she’s been to him.

~~~~~

Things with Spencer have been...rough lately.

It was the little - subtle - changes you noticed in him everyday that just made everything worse for the both of you.

First, it was him coming home later than usual. The usual was already pretty late considering what he did for a living, but lately when he came home, he was at least two hours late. He told you whenever you asked that he was just working later, and you believed him. Why wouldn’t you?

Next came the distance. Even when he was home, he barely spoke to you. Barely even acknowledged your presence. At first you just thought he needed space as one does, but the more it happened, the more you felt like something was wrong. When you asked him, he’d get freaked out, and say something like, “Nothing! Leave me alone.”

And you did.

It was when he started coming home with headaches, nausea, and dizziness that you really began to worry.

“Spencer are you okay? Let me help you.”

“I said I’m fine Y/N! Just give me some space?”

After this, you gave him his space. So much so that you didn’t talk to him unless you spoke to you first - which he barely did. You didn’t cook him dinner, you didn’t check and make sure he had everything ready for work like you usually do, and you didn’t even kiss him goodnight. When he got into bed with you, he didn’t even come close to you which hurt so much that you started sleeping on the couch.

Living like this was tiring, and you didn’t want to live like that anymore. Spencer barely acknowledged your existence, and when he did, he'd say something rude, or just roll his eyes at you.

When and if he was ever home, you spent most of your time in the bedroom because he’d be in the living room or bathroom, doing God-knows-what.

Since you did spend most of your time in the bedroom apart from sleeping, you decided to do a deep clean. You brought in the trash can and recycling ben and recycled all the excess paper and water bottles laying around. You threw away all his candy wrappers, and made sure the bed was made so that he could sleep well whenever he did sleep.

You went to check if anything was under the bed, and as you were reaching your hand wrapped around what felt like a medication bottle.

You brought it out, but there was no label.

Didn’t matter anyway, you recognized it - it was Dilaudid. Thing was, you were sure that Spencer had not been injured recently therefore it had meant that he had gotten them from somewhere, and had been taking them just to take them.

You shook your head painfully. You should have known. You should have realized sooner that he was addicted. How had you not noticed?

His behavior, the sickness...why didn’t it add up?

“What are you doing?” You nearly jumped, and turned around to a scowling Spencer with his arms crossed.

“What are you doing?” You held up the bottle, and his eyes went wide. “You’re a profiler Reid, if you were going to be a pill-popper you should have known to hide it better.”

“Yeah, well, what are you doing going through my stuff anyway? You don’t even sleep in here.”

“Yeah, well, sorry it’s just not comfortable to sleep next to you at the moment.”

He shakes his head, and looks at the bottle in your hands. “Whatever, can I have it back?”

“No Spencer. I think it’s time you stopped.”

“I don’t have time for these games Y/N, give me the bottle back.” He tried to take the bottle from your hands, but you pushed him away. 

“Son of a bitch, just give me the damn bottle Y/N, I need them!”

“You don’t need them Spence -”

“I need them a hell of a lot more than I need you.” He spat spitefully. This made your heart hurt, and you were fighting to hold back tears.

He tried to reach for them again, but you slapped him. Straight across the face. It was so hard and fast, for a second you both had hardly realized what you had done. He held his cheek with one of his hands and stepped away from you.

You didn’t say anything and instead grabbed a backpack from the closet. You put the bottle in, and then as many clothes of yours that could fit. “You may not need me Spencer,” you began, willing your voice not to shake, “but you need help.”

You grabbed a couple of things from your nightstand and shoved it inside the bag.

“W-what are you doing?” he asks, watching you gather some more of your things. 

He followed you into the living room, and watched as you grabbed your jacket from the closet by the door.

“Where are you going?” He asks clearly hurt.

“I’m staying with a friend, you obviously -”

“Oh, so you’re leaving me? Like everyone else in my life, you’re leaving me too?’

You sighed. “I’m not leaving you Spencer. You just need -”

“Stop telling me what I need, you obviously don’t know what the hell I need.” He was upset now.

“That’s right Spencer, I don’t know what you need. But you keep telling me to give you space, so that’s what I’m going to do.” You closed your eyes for a second. “There’s dinner in the fridge. I love you.”

And with that, you left.

_

Spencer was cold. His stomach hurt, and he was tired. How had he let this happen to him? How had he let himself get this way? He promised he would never hurt you, and now he’s scared that that’s exactly what he’s been doing. Hurting you.

Hell, he’s been hurting himself. He knew he shouldn’t have started taking them again but with all the things going on, he was tempted. The only thing going good in his life was you, and now he had fucked that up too.

_

The next day, you paid a little visit to the BAU. You didn’t see Spencer right away, which was a good thing since if you saw him, you’d probably end up crying. When JJ saw you, she got excited and wrapped her arms around you.

“Y/N, where have you been?” 

“Busy.” You smiled. You and her made small talk until you saw Morgan. You promised JJ you would be right back, and went straight to Morgan. 

Morgan was your best friend, and the entire reason you had even met Spencer in the first place.

“Y/N! Hey!” His smile gets wide but dims once he really takes a look at you. “Woah woah woah, what’s the matter?”

You saw Spencer walk by with his head down, and you tried to avoid his eyes, but he had already seen you, and was walking over.

“Y/N?” he said quietly. “What are you doing here?”

You smiled at him but turned to Morgan and asked if you could speak with him privately. Spencer was confused, and wasn’t sure what to do. You were here to see Derek and not him? What were you going to talk to him about?

Morgan pulled you into Garcia’s office and she was beyond ecstatic to see you. After the hugs and catching up, Morgan asked what brought you here, “lookin’ all sad.”

You went into your purse and brought out the bottle of Dilaudid, and handed it to Morgan.

“Is this?” 

You nodded.

“I don’t know if you guys noticed, but he’s been acting -”

“Oh we know.” Penelope exclaimed. “He’s been kind of an asshole lately.”

“I’m not sure what to do. He’s not listening to me, and I don’t - I don’t know how to help him when he’s like this.”

“We’ll figure it out.” Morgan told you. “We’ll get pretty boy back.”

_

Spencer has been going crazy. There were broken glasses on the kitchen floor, dirty clothes strewn everywhere, and couch cushions flipped and thrown across the room. His hair was messy from pulling at his curls, and his eyes were red from crying.

He couldn’t sleep, and he couldn’t eat, and he was shaking. He didn’t know what to do. All he wanted to do was call you, but he wasn’t even sure if you were going to answer him. 

He had a headache, and all he’s been doing these past few days is going to work, and coming home to a dark, dirty, and depressing apartment.

He had had countless panic attacks, and he was driving himself mad.

His team members have all tried to help him, and they've spent time with him, but all he really wanted to see was you.

He found his address book and tried to think about who you might be staying with. He knew it probably wasn’t Morgan because you hated where he lived. He knew it wasn’t any of your sister because she would have called him and told him he was a dick. He thought really hard and finally figured out you were probably with your friend from grade school that you always talked about missing.

He grabbed his car keys not caring how he looked, and drove to Y/F/N’s house.

When he got there he swore for a second that his heart stopped beating. He took a few breaths and knocked on the front door.

You answered.

He noticed that you looked just as bad as he was. This made him feel worse. How could he do this to you?

“Spencer?” You were almost happy to see him. “I thought - well - I thought you needed space?”

He shook his head and tears fell down his face. You wanted to wipe them away, but you weren’t quite sure where the boundaries were at the moment.

“I don’t need space Y/N, that’s never what I needed.” He’s almost sobbing now, and you allow him to walk closer towards you. “I need you. I need you Y/N. That’s all I ever needed.”

This was your Spencer. 

The Spencer yelling at you and ignoring you...that wasn’t him.

The Spencer in front of you now? This is him.

You wrap your arms around his neck and he rests his head on your shoulders, wrapping his arms around your waist - squeezing tightly almost like he was afraid you’d leave.

He cries into your shoulder, and you run your fingers through his tangled hair. “I’m so so sorry Y/N. That wasn’t me Y/N.” he cried, “That wasn’t me. I was a dick, I’m- I’m so so sorry.”

“Shhhh, I know it wasn’t Spence. I know it wasn’t. Let’s go home okay?” He brings his head up and you wipe away his tears, unaware that you had shed a few of your own. “Let’s go home.”

_

The next few days Spencer spent right by your side. He wasn’t letting you go anywhere. You helped him clean the apartment back up, and you made sure he ate and took showers. You made sure he slept, and slowly Spencer went back to how he was before the Dilaudid.

Adorable, dorky, and fun.

You made sure to take him to meetings too. Sometimes Morgan went with you guys too, but you just wanted to remind Spencer that he wasn’t the only one out there dealing with what he was dealing with. You wanted to show him that he wasn’t alone, and that he should be proud of himself for what he has overcome and accomplished.

Still the way he treated you that month tore apart his soul and he made sure that with every breathing, waking moment he was making it up to you. You didn’t deserve that. You’ve always been right there, always by his side, always there for him, and the way he treated you was unacceptable.

_

“I love you Y/N.” He told you one night after he got home from work. You had both had busy days, but he had made sure to always, always make sure he had time for you. “I love you with everything I’ve got.” he kissed your temple. “And everything more.”

~~~~~

feedback appreciated, thanks for reading!!

~~~~~~

[maxineswritingcenter]

You Saved Me - Derek Hale x fem!reader part 21

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

What the hell....

Blinking slowly, the wolfsbane finally leaving my system. And I was not where I had been before. I was back at the Hale house in Derek’s bed. I pushed up on my wobbly arms and slowly slid out of the bed, stumbling to the hall and trying to find whoever did this to me-

Heart beat. It was strong, but there was a slight skip, bad heart. It couldn’t have been the Argents or else they would have taken me to the Argent’s. I slowly walked to the stairs, looking over the landing and down into the living room. 

“Yes, sir, I have located Miss (Y/L/N).” That voice. That damn cocky voice. It was him. 

Michael. That sly son of a bitch was alive. Why was it that all the psychos in Beacon Hills were coming back to life?

“Uh... Good evening.” He was looking up at me with those grey eyes of his. I knew them well. I had seen them so many times before, through good times and bad. And these were the worst times, weren’t they? Those grey eyes widened when I shifted. I jumped down from the top of the stairs, landing on my feet. He backed up a few steps, a nervous smile on his face. 

“Ah... I see you’ve finally shifted. And you’re an alpha. Congrats.” He chuckled nervously, “I know you’re probably wondering ‘how is he alive? Right? Well it’s a very interesting story.” 

“I don’t care.” I growled. 

“L-Look, I can explain everything. Please.” He licked his lips, “Let’s talk.” If my heart wasn’t beating hard then it was now. All of my fear had turned to rage. He was here and alive. And he was a weak human man. And I’ll be damned if I let him get out of here alive. Not after what he’s done. 

My roar was loud and long, enough to make him cover his ears. His heart was beating rapidly and he smelled of fear. 

"Ok, um, how about we tussle a little, would that make you feel better?"

"I’m gonna rip your throat out with my teeth.” 

His eyes widened, "Ah, well, uh, we can't do that, ya see, I'm... I’m supposed to be taking you to Scotland.” He was my guide? To take me to the Lunar Circle? I don’t think so. 

I grabbed him by the collar and threw him against the wall. His back slammed against the wall, the same area that Peter had fallen through. He moaned in pain, struggling to sit up. I stalked closer, grabbing his shirt and roaring into his face. He was terrified and rightly so. I am a powerful werewolf alpha and I want him to be scared, to instill the fear he put in me by kidnapping me. The fear of death. 

"(Y/N), please, listen to me, this is all a misunderstanding!" He pleaded. I pinned him down to the ground.

"Misunderstanding?" I spat, "You murdered my family! You tried to kill me!” I opened my mouth wide, rearing my head back to strike.

"PETER! IT WAS PETER!" His words made me pause, my fangs grazing the skin of his jugular. I pulled away from his neck, causing him to breathe a little easier. 

“Start talking before I change my mind.” My grip tightened on his wrists that were pinned on either side of his head. 

“I’m a part of the Lunar Circle. My family were hunters but I wanted out. You parents got me involved. I was a double agent. Until.” He swallowed thickly, “Until, a few years ago when Peter started using his influence to get into my mind. He wanted me to use my connection to the hunters to bring Kate Argent out of hiding and... Your parents became collateral damage.”

“Why would Peter do that?” I growled. It did sound like something Peter would do, but I couldn’t trust his word. 

“Why wouldn’t Peter do that? He’s a total psychopath that wants mass hysteria.” He panted, “You believe that, don’t you?” Dammit, he’s right. I stood up, grabbing Michael by the collar and dragging him across the room. I shoved him to sit down in an empty chair. 

"You're going to tell me everything.”

“O-Okay. Well, uh where do you want me to start?”

“The Lunar Circle.” 

Michael let out a small laugh, probably in relief, “They, well, they’re a society based in Scotland meant to create a network of werewolves in communication. To keep families and clans protected from hunters and other things.” 

“Other things?” I crossed my arms over my chest. 

“I’ll get to those later. Anyway, I was assigned to your clan to keep them and, most importantly you, safe. Originally in two-thousand-four.” 

2004

“It’s a pleasure to meet you.” He grinned. I looked him up and down, shaking his hand with my thumb and pointer finger instead of my whole hand. 

After a long day of training with Talia and Laura, I walked through the front door. My parents were in the kitchen, talking seriously with someone, he looked around my age. He had dark hair and grey eyes. Average looking, seemingly ordinary. 

”What’s going on in here?” I dropped my gym bag on the counter. 

“This is Michael. He’s a representative from the Lunar Circle.” Dad said, patting the boy on the back. Michael stepped forward, holding his hand out. 

Mom shook her head and laughed a little, “Well, yes, but he’s going to go into your school and watch out for you there.” 

“Isn’t he a little young to be a representative?” I stepped around him, opening the fridge and grabbing a water bottle. 

“Why? Dad has an agreement with the Argents.” I said before taking several long gulps of water. 

“(Y/N), you can never be too careful.” Dad said seriously. His tone made her lower the bottle from her lips. 

“How come the Hales don’t have a representative?” 

“They didn’t want to join the circle. Talia thinks she can handle herself.” Her mother said, washing dishes in the sink. I raised an eyebrow at her. 

“She can handle herself. Even with werewolves,” I looked at Michael, “It’s a man’s world, and women fight tooth and nail to get to the top.” 

Dad smiled in a way that told me to straighten out my attitude, “Just humor me.” 

I closed my eyes, blinking away the vision. My memories were coming back. But how? Maybe because he was here, he knew everything, it was jogging my memory. 

“Tell me about the Hales.” 

“Well,” He leaned back in the chair, “I know that they had an agreement with your parents, a treaty if you will. But they had to give up their alpha status. Alphas bring attention, sometimes it’s the bad kind. They gave their alpha sparks to you, thinking you would never turn.” 

Tossing and turning, in and out of sleep. My parents had been on edge all day after a meeting with Talia. This would be a night that my parents told me I had dreamed about. They thought I had been asleep, but I was awake. 

“Don’t wake her. This is going to hurt her, I can’t look at her when I hurt her.” Mom’s voice quivered, “(Y/D/N), do we really have to do this? Maybe if we talk to Talia-”

“(Y/M/N), we are drawing too much attention as it is being a two alpha pack in a town where there is already a large clan.” He said, “My agreement with Chris is strictly with him. I can’t say the same for the rest of them. The Hales are a powerful ally. This needs to happen now.”

“But what if she turns?” 

“She won’t. We made sure that her change would be delayed.”

“Her dose a wolfsbane keeps going up. Her tolerance is going up. I don’t want to kill her by accident.” 

“Well... There’s always the Wolf Eclipse...”

“No.” Mom said hurriedly, “I don’t know how that would affect her memories. She would forget Derek, he’s her best friend.” 

“She has Stiles.”

“I love Stiles. you know that. But Talia would be furious.” 

Dad sighed, “I’m tired of running. I want to raise her here. We have a home, friends. Plus... with Stiles’ mother being sick... it’s only a matter of time before the pain we take from her gets to be too much. It would kill Noah and Stiles to take (Y/N) away too.” He grunted, “Now. On the count of three.” 

“One.... Two.... three.” A sharp pain stabbed into both my hips, pulling a shrill scream from my throat. 

I held my head, all the new memories were pushing at a barrier inside of my head. 

“What else?” I said, looking towards him as I paced back and forth in front of him. 

“They tried to arrange a marriage between you and Derek.” 

Derek and I couldn’t have been older than nine or ten, spying on our parents in another one of their serious meetings. They sat at the kitchen table, Talia with a devilish smile on her face. Her husband besides her, he was mostly a silent figure. 

“(Y/D/N), (Y/M/N), I’m sure you know what this is about.” 

“No, Talia.” Dad said, “Peter’s invitation was... vague.” 

Talia chuckled, “My brother does have a touch for the dramatic.” She hummed, “You and I both know that your clan has diminished with (Y/N) as your only heir.” We were a small clan but I never realized that we were all that was left. Derek looked at me out of the corner of his eye, putting a hand on my back. We continued to listen in. 

“We’re aware.” Dad said grimly. 

Talia leaned forward, “Then I would like to propose... A proposal.” She tapped her fingers on the table, “Your daughter to be arranged with my son. In the event that anything happens to my daughters, (Y/N) would become the matriarch.” She smiled fondly, “Derek and (Y/N) already share a bond, why delay the inevitable?” Derek and I shared a glance. Us? Get married? Gross. 

“No.” Dad shook his head, “Our daughter should choose her life partner.” 

“Her mate?” Talia asked. 

“An outdated term.” Mom chimed in. 

“Hmmm.” Is all Talia replied with.

“What. Else?” I said between gritted teeth, leaning my head against the wall. 

“Before the treaty, Talia tried to sneak you into their clan for you to train since your parents had no interest in training you to fight. She tried once when you were young, that’s when the treaty started.” 

I was six, sliding down the big green swirly slide at the playground, at the bottom was Peter Hale. He caught me in his arms. He was twenty then. 

“Well hello there.” He smiled. 

“Hi Peter!” I opened my mouth wide, “Look, I lost a tooth!” I pointed to the gap in my teeth where my canine had been. 

“Well, well, well, look at that. Making room for your big bad wolf teeth to come in.” He growled and snapped his teeth. I giggled and shook my head. 

“My mommy says that I should have turned by now, I think I’m a dud.” 

“Now I don’t think that’s true.” He set me down on my feet, “But I do know that a lost tooth means we have to celebrate.” He leaned down, “How about we go get some ice cream?” I looked around the playground, seeing my mother reading a book on a nearby bench. 

“But mommy says I can’t go in a car with anybody but Uncle Noah and Aunt Claudia.”

“Your mommy knows me. Besides, we’ll only be a minute. Trust me.” He held out his hand. As a small child, there are only a few things in life that make you disobey your parents: the promise of a new toy and ice cream. I took Peter’s hand and we walked towards the diner in town. 

Once at the diner, Peter sat me down in a tall booth at the bar. The man behind the counter looked us over. 

“What can I get for ya?” He asked gruffly. 

Peter looked down at me, “How about a hot fudge sundae with two cherries.” I squealed in my seat, swinging my legs wildly. My body couldn’t sit still at the thought of an ice cream sundae. 

Soon the sundae was placed in front of me with a large spoon. I gripped the spoon tightly, awkwardly getting a large scoop and placing it in my mouth.

“Did your mommy and daddy tell you that you were a dud?” Peter asked, grabbing a cherry off the sundae by its stem. 

“No, I overheard them talking with Miss Talia.” 

“Did you?” He hummed. 

I nodded, talking around another spoonful, “I’m not gonna turn.” I swallowed, “I would have shown signs by now.” 

“Well that doesn’t mean you can’t get the bite.” 

“Peter.” A deep voice made us both turn. Standing there was Chris Argent. Daddy and him had an agreement about something. It was adult stuff. 

“Argent.” Peter said back. 

Chris looked down at me, “Hi (Y/N).” 

“Hi Mister Argent!” I grinned, a ring of ice cream around my mouth. Chris smiled, reaching onto the counter and wiping my mouth with a napkin. 

“There you go. Your daddy called me to take you home.” 

“I’m taking her home.” Peter said with a strained smile. 

“Well, I’m already here.” Chris lifted me off the stool and took me by the hand. 

Chris brought me home to my parents who were incredibly worried. Maybe Peter wasn’t someone that her parents trusted. 

“After that your parents realized that Talia wasn’t going to take no for an answer when it came to training you.” Michael said, resting his arms on his legs. His feet was shaking. He was still holding something back. But I didn’t know if I could handle any more memories. My brain was already fried as it was. But how could I just stop remembering... One more memory... Then the dam would break. 

I rubbed my temples, “What else aren’t you telling me?”

“(Y/N), removing the block on your memories like this isn’t safe.” 

“I don’t care.” I snapped, flashing my eyes at him, “My whole life was taken from me. Now tell me!”

“Okay.” He sat up, holding his hands up in surrender, “Okay.” He lowered his arms slowly and sighed, “They put the Wolf Eclipse spell on you after the Hale house fire...” He looked up at me through his lashes, “Because you were there.” 

All of my pacing and other nervous movements stopped at this revelation. 

I licked my lips, “I was there?” 

“The night of the fire, you were there.” That’s what broke it, the dam in my brain. I shouted as searing heat spread through my head. Leaning against the wall for support, I squeezed my eyes shut.  

2006

I stormed through my house, stomping up the stairs to my room. My parents had picked me up from school instead of letting me stay after for Derek’s basketball game. I had plans with Laura and Derek to go to their house and train afterwards. But no such luck. My parents wanted me to stay home and they didn’t want me training with the Hales anymore. 

“This isn’t fair!” I shouted at the top of the stairs, looking down at my parents, “Talia says I have the right to train with them just like any other werewolf can!” 

“It’s too dangerous now to train with Laura and Derek, they don’t hold back.” Mom held her hands together, “Look what happened to your arm.” I looked down at my arm. There were thick bandages from Deaton that hid the wounds from Derek’s claws from the rest of the world. It had put me on the bench from lacrosse, but that’s what happened sometimes. 

“It was an accident.” I said, “Derek didn’t mean to hurt me.” 

“Yeah?” Dad put his hands on his hips, “Well, this’ll hurt. You’re grounded. You go to school, you go to practice, you do your homework and that’s it.” 

I scoffed, “You can’t do this! I have to train so I can defend myself for when I turn-” 

“You’re not going to turn, (Y/N)!” Dad shouted, his eyes were stern and dark, “You would have turned already and I refuse to continue this conversation. Go to your room. Now!” Tears burned at my eyes as I glared down at them. Letting out a little sob, I ran from the steps and into my room, slamming the door behind me. I leaned against the door, sliding down it as I cried. 

They knew how insecure and odd I felt about being the last of our clan and a human. It felt like I had failed my ancestors. I wouldn’t be able to carry on our legacy. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair how they treated Derek. Paige was dying and the only way to end her pain was killing her, it wasn’t his fault that this was deemed as killing an innocent person by the natural laws of lycanthropy. He was my friend, he had been through enough. 

The car starting made my head perk up. I ran to the window in time to see my mom and dad pulling out of the driveway. Probably a meeting with Michael about the stupid Lunar Circle. But since they’re gone....

I opened the window, carefully jumping to the roof that covered the first floor, then using the bushes to break my fall to get to the ground. Now it was just a matter of walking to school... Or I could meet Derek and Laura at their house after the game. That was better and less likely to cause me to pass out. 

-

I knocked on the door of the elaborate manor and waited. It was getting dark out. Hopefully, Derek’s game would end soon. Talia opened the door, a beautiful smile gracing her face. 

“Well, this is certainly unexpected. But not unwelcome.” 

“My parents grounded me from training.” I said, realizing I was very much going to be in trouble if they found out, “But I want to fight.” 

Talia nodded, “Of course.” She ushered me inside, closing the door behind us, “I’m happy you came, I was just on my way out to see you.” 

“You were?” I looked up at her as she led me through the house and into the kitchen. 

“I was. I wanted to discuss your future.” She opened the fridge and grabbed a pitcher of water. She motioned to it, I nodded, she poured a glass and handed it to me. 

“My future? Like... College?” 

“No, my dear.” She chuckled, “While education is important, I had something else in mind.” It was around the time I noticed Cora, sitting at the kitchen table, doing her homework. 

“You know that we love you, the whole family thinks of you as one of our own.” She came around the counter, “And I think you have the ability to become an amazing alpha someday. So my offer is this: I give you the bite and you join my pack. I know how you feel being the only human in your pack.” Getting the bite seemed like a no brainer. Maybe I just needed it to get my juices flowing. 

“What about my parents?” I asked, setting my water down on the counter. 

“They could join us too. One pack, all together.” 

I wasn’t sure how my parents would react to assimilating packs. The Lunar Circle certainly wouldn’t like it. 

“Could I have the day to think about it?” I said after a while. 

“Of course.” She smiled, “Take as long as you-” Glass breaking cut her off and the flames caused her to back away from the kitchen window. Talia grabbed the pitcher of water from the counter and threw it on the flames. But they only spread. More and more windows breaking, more and more flames. From the next room, Peter ran in through a cloud of smoke. 

“Talia, they’re setting the house on fire.” Peter said, coughing. Talia looked down at the basement. Flames spread rapidly through the house. The fire was already traveling down the stairs from above. 

“Get them out.” Talia shouted, running towards the basement. Peter led both of us towards the front door and opened it. A glass bottle was thrown at us, hitting Peter in the face. His skin was ignited by the Molotov cocktail. He screamed, trying to put out the fire but it only spread on his clothes. Cora and I screamed, taking off in separate directions. As I ran I heard her scream again. I should have gone back, but I was afraid. I just ran all the way home. And when I got there, the danger hadn’t ended. My parents were out in the lawn, seeing the smoke. 

“Mom! Dad!” I called, I stopped just short of them, panting heavily, “Hunters are attacking the Hale, you have to help them.” Evidently, they didn’t understand the urgency of the situation. I grabbed my mom’s hand and tugged, “Come on! They need our help!” The next thing I knew, the world went black. 

-

When I woke up I was on my bed, candles gave the room a warm glow. I saw my mom sitting in a chair beside my bed, my dad was putting what looked like hair into a glass bottle. My hair. 

“Hey... What is this?” I tried to sit up, but saw that my arms had been tied to my sides. I looked at my mom, eyes wide, “Mom?” Her lips were pressed tight together and trembling. She was crying. 

“We’re sorry, sweetie. But we had no other choice.” She whispered. I looked at my dad, seeing that he had a spell book in his hands. It was an old family book dating back a few hundred years. What spell could they be-

It hit me. The Wolf Eclipse spell. They were going to take away all of my memories. Once my dad sealed the jar and said the incantation, I would lose everything. I would lose Derek. I can’t. 

“No! NO!” I screamed as dad poured hot wax over the cork top of the glass bottle, “NO PLEASE! I promise I’ll never sneak out again!” Tears started pouring down my cheeks. Dad started the incantation. 

“DAD! DAD DON’T DO THIS!” I looked at my mom who was avoiding looking anywhere near me, “MOM!” I could feel it, like a drain of energy. I was losing memories already, precious moments where the Hale family that were gone forever. 

“NO!” I screamed, my fate sealed with the blowing out of a candle and a few words of Latin.

So, they were back, everything I forgot was back. And Michael was able to get me there. That dick. Everything still hurts though: my head, my body. 

Michael stood up slowly, closing the distance between us, “Hey are you alright?” He asked before the door was kicked open. Derek stood in the doorway, huffing. He was covered in blood and looked like he wanted to shed more. His eyes flashed to red when he saw Michael in the room. He roared loudly. 

Michael sighed, “Not again.” With inhuman speed, Derek pounced on Michael, his claws catching Michael’s cheek. Michael shouted. I ran over, grabbing Derek by the shoulders. 

“Derek, stop!” He looked back at me, angry and confused. 

“What?!”

I let out a shaky breath and cupped his hairy cheeks, “I remember.” I said softly. His werewolf features slowly morphed away, leaning the face I loved. He looked on in wonder, like seeing a meteor shower for the first time. 

“You remember?” He whispered. I nodded slowly, smiling so hard my cheeks hurt. He grinned, wrapping his arms around my waist and holding me tightly. I wrapped my arms around his neck, running my fingers through his hair.

-

The next day was made for decisions. Michael had gone to a hotel near the airport and probably to be as far away from Derek as possible. It took a while but eventually Derek understood. That night had been... eventful to keep it PG. We both needed it honestly. The night as we slept in his bed, loud howling woke us up. 

“What was that?” I said, very much awake. Derek sat up, looking towards the window. 

“They’re coming.” 

-

I parked at the high school after I saw Stiles’ Jeep parked there as I was driving towards the Stilinski’s. Derek said I needed to talk to Uncle Noah and I had to agree. Especially if I decided to go to Scotland. But I probably wouldn’t, not with the new threat of an alpha pack. He said he would meet with me tonight to talk. 

Scott and Stiles were on the field, Scott in goal while Stiles was shooting pearls. 

“Now, remember-- no wolf powers.” Stiles said, positioning himself. 

“Got it.”

“No, I meant it! No super-fast reflexes, no super-eyesight, no hearing-- none of that crap, okay?”

“Okay. Come on!”

“You promise?”

“Would you just take the shot already?” Scott shouted. Stiles took a few steps forward, shooting the pearl. Scott caught it with ease. 

“I said NO WOLF POWERS!” Stiles shouted. 

“You don’t need wolf powers to know that was a bad shot.” I smiled as I walked towards them. They both looked over at me. Scott seemed a little surprised, Stiles didn’t really meet my eyes. 

 “Hey, what happened to you last night?” Scott asked, coming out of the goal to meet me in the field.

“Long story. But Derek filled me in. Y’all fought the kanima, you killed Gerard, Jackson is a normal werewolf. Win win.” I looked over at Stiles, then Scott, “Can you give us a minute?” Needing a few seconds to figure out what I had said, Scott nodded. 

“Yeah, sure.” Scott walked over to where they left their lacrosse bags. I walked to stand in front of Stiles. 

“I was just kidding, by the way. That was a great shot.” I smiled. 

“You should have seen the game I played. I actually made us win.” He said with no emotion. He was pissed at me and so was I. I missed the first game he’s ever played and I should have been there. 

“I know, I should have seen it.” I tinkered with my locket, snapping it open and closed again, “I’m sorry.” 

“It was to protect him, wasn’t it?” 

“They were going to kill him, Stiles. If I had gone, they would have taken me to get to him. And odds are I would be in a shallow grave somewhere.” He didn’t seem to care much, “Come on, would you please look at me?” 

He looked up at her and sighed, “I understand. I know that you really care about him. And if things weren’t as crazy, you would be around more.” 

“I’ll make it up to you, I promise.” I glanced back at Scott, “I’m heading home right now. Gonna talk with your dad. I’ll see you for dinner?” 

A small smile, better than nothing, “Sounds good.” I softly punched his shoulder. 

“Go to his left side.” I whispered, “Make him work for it.” I winked, walking back to the car.  Now was the hard part, talking to Uncle Noah. 

 -------------------

Read part 22 here!

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And there is the ended for season 2 in the canon and the end of the second “book” of the series. Will I get back to writing my other series soon? We’ll see. 

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Late - Part 2

Spencer x Reader

(Warnings: Torture, blood, cussing and death, ya’ll have been warned)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You had just fallen asleep, you had been crying so much that despite the uncomfortable position, your eyes had gotten heavy and you closed then, that was five, maybe seven, minutes ago? You almost groaned out loud as you heard the heavy door open, raising your head and glaring at the man as he walked around your side to face you, carefully stepping over your previous meal on the floor, grinning like it was something he had expected. You watched him sit down in the chair across from you, picking up the mask and dusting it off carefully like it was made of glass, “most do that when they first see the mask, I’m impressed” he said cheerfully, making you scoff “don’t worry, it wasn’t the mask, just you” you spat back, seeing him freeze up, anger flashing in his eyes before he forced himself to calm down, which didn’t seem to be working all that well, as seconds later he got up, glancing at the table he flipped earlier before going behind you, you tried but you couldn’t see him, but you heard him lay down the mask on something, and then pick up something made of metal and put it down somewhere else, and finally he came back into view, pulling a small portable table, the wheels squeaking as you eyed it with suspicion. It had something on top of it, covered by a piece of cloth, and when he pulled it off your eyes widened, seeing a tray underneath with tools, bloodied ones at that.

You looked back at him and for the first time, you truly couldn’t help the fear that overtook you, you felt your whole body shake out of fear and you couldn’t hide it anymore, you began to fight against your restraints and he laughed at your attempts while you screamed, ripping at the leather bonds until you created sore marks on yourself, but you ignored the pain, you ignored his laughter, you had to get out of here. In your frantic state you noticed something you hadn’t before, a small door on the opposite end of the room, facing you, it was small and hidden with tiles, but if you crouched, if you got free, you could probably find a way out, it was no doubt an escape tunnel of sorts. You did everything you could to focus on that, trying to focus on keeping up with a plan, even as the blade slid along your arm, the cold metal leaving goosebumps as a trail.

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

“Where is she?” Derek asked as he was sitting across from the man who had been driving the taxi, who just shrugged “don’t know man, I drive alotta folk around, gotta be more specific” the man said with another shrug, Spencer watching form behind the two way mirror, anger practically oozing off of him like a bad smell, Hotch and Emily was standing by his side when Penelope burst through the doors, tears in her eyes “I got it! I got it!” She moved closer with her laptop, showing them the screen that held the man’s information, backstory, and all of his past criminal records, and there were a lot of them. Axel Erickson, 38, unmarried, renting a shitty apartment, no real job so the taxi ruse was most likely to get victims or extra money, or both. Spencer were about to move into the interrogation room but Emily and Hotch stopped him “stay her” he ordered, leaving no room for debate as Hotch walked in, joining Derek and putting a picture of you on the table in front of the man, Emily holding Spencer back and saying comforting things that he didn’t even hear.

Hotch leaned closer “Axel, we know you took her, one of our agents saw her get in your car, she even called for christ’s sake!” Hotch yelled, Axel looking a tad more nervous now but he kept denying it, and that’s when Reid snapped, Penelope trying to stop him as he barged into the interrogation room, grabbing Axel by his collar and pushing him against the wall, his arm on Axel’s throat, choking him “WHERE IS SHE?! You have exactly one chance to tell me, five seconds before I shoot you in the gut and rip open your stomach! A man can live up to a month with a gut wound but it’s not a pleasant month so tell me where she is!!” Spencer yelled, getting out his gun and pointing it at the man’s stomach “one” Spencer counted, Axel continued to cry and beg to get Spencer off of him “two” Axel then pleaded with Hotch and Derek to remove Spencer but they just stood there “three” Axel then tried to fight against him but Spencer kept him in place “four” Axel continued begging “five-”

“She’s in an abandoned building downtown! It’s underground! That’s all I know man, I wear! Please I don’t know anything else I swear!” Axel cried, Spencer grabbing his collar again, pointing his gun at his neck “show me” was all he said as he led him out of the interrogation room and towards his own car, Hotch and Derek sharing a shocked look before following, Emily joining them as well as Rossi and JJ, who had been asking around to see if you had gotten home safely, leaving Penelope to call in practically everyone to go with them, from SWAT to the local police.

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

You couldn’t help the sob that escaped your lips as the man before you put his drill down, fresh blood smeared on it and a hole in your shoulder, bleeding rapidly. You felt cold and tired, your new wound joining the others that littered your body, from knife wounds to cuts to the new wound made from a drill. You flinched as he gently stroked your cheek, as if he tried to soothe you “aw no, don’t be like that, what’s the sad face for? We’re only just beginning” he said in a mocking voice, another sob escaping you as he got out the knife he had used on you countless times already, your whole body flinching as the cold metal touched your thighs, that he hadn’t touched yet. You sobbed once again as he made a small cut on your thigh, barely enough to draw blood, and when he wasn’t satisfied with that he plunged the knife straight through your leg, the tip touching the metal chair under you and you let out a loud scream in pain, leaning over in agony as he laughed “that’s just… sweet music” he said in a disturbing, calm voice, as if he was listening to Beethoven or Mozart.

“Y-You s-s-sick f-fuck” you managed, and it was enough to make him freeze in his track before grabbing your chin roughly and forcing your face up to look at him, which wasn’t hard with how exhausted you were from all the pain. His eyes were burning with rage at your comment, but you managed a smile, making look at you with confusion “y-you’re so f-f-fucking d-dead” you managed, laughing briefly before cringing in pain, but you forced yourself through it to look at him “when h-he finds you… y-y-you’re g-going to p-pay” he looked at you even more confused now and you chuckled “y-you’re even d-dumb enough to n-not know who y-your victims a-are… I’m d-dating an F-FBI agent you i-idiot” you once again managed a chuckle, seeing his shocked face, but it was cut short as he ripped the knife out of your leg, hearing you scream in pain with a smirk “as far as I know, you two broke up” he said tauntingly and you narrowed your eyes at him through the pain “oh yes, the guy who took you? He told me... I’m assuming the guy you left standing in the street was your ‘boyfriend’, well, where is he now, you whore?!” The man was about to plunge the knife into your other thigh when you heard a voice you knew.

“Right here” you turned your head in an attempt to see Spencer but you couldn’t, but you still cried with a smile on your lips, he was here, he was really here. Your joy was cut short as you felt a blade against your throat, your eyes moving up to look at the man that had tortured you for hours, a sick smile on his lips “well, well, well. What do we have here, a Romeo looking for his Juliet? Don’t you already know how that story ends?” he said in a mocking tone, slowly kneeling in front of you, the knife still at your throat “step away from her, now” Spencer’s voice sounded unhinged, like it took everything in him to not shoot the man in front of you both. You felt him release your ankles from their restraints, knife still pressed firmly against your throat as he then moved on to your wrists “why? We’re just talking ‘agent’, besides, you wouldn’t want your little Juliet to get hurt, would you?” he said in a taunting voice, grabbing you by your hair, pulling you up and in front of him, holding you so you faced Spencer with the knife to your throat, your captor’s face hidden behind your head as he laughed “come now, ‘agent’, aren’t the bureau all about teamwork, where is your team now?” he laughed again as he slowly walked backwards with you, that it, until you heard a gun cock and felt his movements stop “right here, you son of a bitch” you exhaled relieved when you heard Derek’s voice, he must have used the escape tunnel you had spent the last few hours trying to figure out a way to get to, Spencer had been distracting you captor while Morgan found the entry and sneaked in, the rest of the team must be waiting somewhere, the thought bringing relief and hope.

“Fair play” your captor murmured and you felt the knife press against your throat and cut a line, it was odd, you barely felt it, like it was just superficial, and when you heard a gunshot ring out, you thought that maybe it was. You moved your hand up to your throat as you felt weak, feeling a warmth streaming from the cut, the pain first now hitting you as you fell to the floor with wide eyes, tears streaming down your cheeks as Spencer ran to you, his hands on your throat to stop the bleeding, tears littered his eyes as well. You tried to gasp for air but you felt like you inhaled water, making you cough, only for your body to try again and repeat, your hands flailing around you for something to hold onto, as if it would ease the pain, but it didn’t.

You began to feel even more cold as Spencer and Derek yelled something, Spencer kept his eyes on you while Derek yelled for someone through a tunnel. It must have been the tunnel he went through, or maybe the door your captor had used led to a hallway? You weren’t quite sure, but you found yourself slowly raising your hand, cupping Spencer’s cheek gently, smearing it with blood, but you didn’t notice, and oddly enough, you couldn’t feel the pain anymore, not really, everything was just numb and cold. You gently smiled up at Spencer, seeing his confused look as he kept crying, keeping pressure on your neck “hey Spence…” your voice was barely audible, but he heard it, he always did.

“Spence… I’m cold” you muttered, trying to look around you but Spencer kept a hold on your neck, forcing you to look at him, instead of seeing the corpse next to you. You felt something being draped over you, seeing Derek having taken a jacket he had on off, and you smiled gently up at him “hey, Derek, what’re you doing here?” you asked in a whisper, seeing Derek frown as well before looking back to the tunnel “WE NEED A MEDIC!!” he shouted loudly and you felt even more cold, you could barely move your legs, a frown on your face as a thought crossed your mind and you looked at Spencer in a daze “I’m cold, where’s my jacket? Did I forget my jacket? We have to go back, Spence it’s my f-favorite jacket…” you slurred, trying to get up but Spencer kept you on the ground “stay with me, (Y/N), please, I need you to stay here with me, please stay with me, don’t leave me” you heard Spencer begging, crying above you, some of his tears lending on your face, and you gently stroked his cheek with your bloody thumb “hey, what’re you talking about? I’ll never leave you” you whispered and it made Spencer cry even more, but he never lost his grip, not even when the medics finally arrived and put you on a gurney, asking Spencer to let go of your throat but he didn’t, not until he was forced to, but he was right behind you all the way outside, the sun blinding you and you cringed, looking around for Spencer, the paramedic asking you to keep still as he was losing his grip on your throat every time you moved your head “no… no where’s… where’s Spencer…? Spence..?” you tried calling out but your words began to slur as they hurried you to the ambulance, your eyes feeling heavy as fresh tears began to roll down your face “no.. no my boyfriend, he was with me… he was going to dinner with me and he said he’d-... he’d meet me there… Spence?” you began to slur your words even more and just as you were about to pass out you felt someone grab your hand tightly in the ambulance, sitting next to you, and when you looked you saw a blood soaked Spencer, a frown forming on your face again “Spence… what happened to you?” you slurred, feeling dizzy.

Spencer looked to one of the paramedics concerned, who then leaned in “she’s in shock, she said something about going to dinner with her boyfriend, her mind is probably trying to block out everything she’s been through” the paramedic explain and Spencer, with tears in his eyes, forced a smile at you “d-don’t worry about it, I’m here now” he whispered and you managed a smile as the ambulance sped off towards the hospital “I was so scared you were gonna be late again…” you slurred and Spencer almost broke down, but he forced himself through it, gently smiling at you “I’m here, I made it” he whispered, leaning over and with his free hand he gently stroked your forehead, which seemed to soothe you somewhat, your face almost blissful “good… I’m cold and tired, Spence… I know it’s early b-but… can we go? Please” you felt your eyelids grow even more heaving, a weird beeping noise in the background, it sounded erratic, you heard something along the lines of ‘we’re losing her’ but you didn’t know who they were talking about, so you forced your eyes open, looking around you in fear, your heart rate spiking “where am I? Spence where am I?” you asked through newfound tears, Spencer quickly shushing you “it’s okay, it’s okay, I’m here with you, alright? That’s all that matters” he whispered and you seemed to calm down at that, sighing as you turned your head to him, looking weak and far too fragile for his liking “are we home yet? I’m so tired” you slurred, you and Spencer hadn’t moved in, but you were going to ask him once the two of you had eaten at the restaurant.

“W-We’re a-almost home, baby, almost, just a little while longer…” he whispered and you felt more tears run down your cheeks, but your face was still dazed “I’m so tired Spence…” you slurred before your eyes closed against your will, you heard someone scream and yell and cry, but you didn’t know why, you were just going to sleep, why was he crying? But no matter how hard you tried you just couldn’t open your eyes, you couldn’t wake up. Your eyelids were too heavy, you were so cold, until you weren't, suddenly you felt numb, you couldn’t feel the coldness anymore, or the exhaustion, you didn’t know why you were so exhausted, you were waiting outside the restaurant, how does that make one so exhausted? You hoped you were home soon, you had to be, but you don’t remember, all you remember is Spencer crying as you fell asleep.

[stilesxeveryone]

The Rewatch, pt4

Feel free to message or comment any of your own thoughts/opinions!

Season 2, episode 7

All adults in the vicinity crossing their arms as soon as Stiles opens his mouth to say something stupid 

“No stiles!” Rip all of his Stiles privileges 

I have to assume that kanima!Jackson assaulted Allison because Matt is into her, which is a whole new level of creepy because oh god that means Matt can control the kanima more than just “hey kill that guy”, like this suggests it sort of takes on Matt’s emotions and shit

Stiles knows Jackson’s birthday

Uhhhh missed the rest of the episode because I was drawing, whoops

Just Peter traumatising Lydia, it’s fine

Season 2, episode 8

I always love Stiles and his father interacting tbh, they very much know how to deal with each other’s bullshit a lot of the time and I appreciate it. Seeing them work on a case together is wonderful

Again, this scene between Stiles and his dad about him losing his sheriff position is actually heartbreaking, goddamn 

Ah, the first hints of Scott/Isaac 

Reminder that Jackson is canonically queer

Also yesssssssssss magic Stiles! That’s my boyyyyyy! I need to write witch Stiles again

Stiles being pack mum will continue to always be one of my favourite tropes and this is just reminding me that I want to rewrite my 10 chapter fic about human alpha Stiles

Deaton saying the teenagers are “more capable than you think” is a goddamn terrible take, they need so much help. Like yeah they can get out of this alive, but your job as emissary/mentor/adult/whatever is to help reduce their trauma

Season 2, episode 9

I feel like the only time I ever really see Lydia’s trauma mentioned in fics is like in passing about why she hates Peter, but maybe I just don’t read enough fics about Lydia

Also I don’t mean this in a weird way, but I really like the sound of Lydia’s scream. Sometimes shows just use bad screams and it’s a tragedy, but the scream they use for Lydia is brilliant 

“Doesn’t being a part of your pack mean no more secrets” I can’t tell if that’s Scott being hypocritical or manipulative but wow

Even though I don’t like Allison’s mother, it still breaks my heart to see her try to talk to Allison before she takes her own life, and Allison doesn’t know so she just brushes her off

Stiles kept in touch with the drag queens which is actually amazing information 

Again! Stiles and his father! Making me cry! I mean this time it’s a hallucination but goddamn 

Chris was killing his wife, I was thinking about how strong his forearms looked

I’m really interested to know how in the world Peter knew that Lydia was immune/a banshee, and that she’d be able to bring him back

Season 2, episode 10

Someone needs to explain this part to me. Like I literally don’t understand the order of events of Matt and the kanima bonding and Isaac’s dad dying. Like did Jackson kill him before they bonded, and if so why didn’t he bond with Isaac instead? Or did he somehow bond with Matt before killing Isaac’s dad, even though this flashback clearly shows them bonding after the fact?

Please someone give me an explanation 

“Scott I trust” that is such a sad line

Hhhhhhh wish people would stop manipulating Allison, and can we get some better communication over here please!

Okay Stiles’ dad shouting Scott’s name first when he hears a gunshot kinda hurts guys

I do appreciate that this show doesn’t half ass their villain character motivations. Sometimes I see villains and I have literally no idea why they do what they do, but not this guy

Okay clearly this show enjoys killing their villains in the same way twice, like they burned Peter twice, and now they’re drowning Matt twice

Season 2, episode 11

Stiles (Dylan O’Brien) is so pretty (and clearly this cameraman knew it)

Isaac coming into the vet clinic like a lost pup is really adorable, and him crying after taking the dog’s pain away 🥺

Peter you manipulative son of a bitch, stop looking so good

Oh boy Allison going off the rails and hunting Erica and Boyd, I wish she’d go feral in the other direction and shoot Gerard

Stiles winning the game, and having this amazing moment and having something to be proud of, and then immediately getting kidnapped is kinda fucked up and I appreciate it

Season 2, episode 12

As always, give me pack mum Stiles or give me death

And as always, Stiles never shutting his mouth during interrogations and fights is my favourite thing to see. Also would be into a Stargent or Stallison fic where one of them realises Stiles is down in the basement and they step in

Why does Stiles look so good with that blood on his face

And that no one! No one knows! That Gerard beat Stiles up! As far as we see, he doesn’t tell anyone about it!!!

I honestly appreciate that Chris goes to the side of the werewolves before Allison does, I think it’s very fun and cool

And here it is, the moment we’ve all been waiting for. Scott using Derek to kill Gerard. He’s just so uncaring about the fact that he lied to everyone about what was happening, planned to violate Derek’s autonomy and had planned to murder Gerard, like it’s so weird to see him so nonchalant about it 

Erica and Boyd just can’t catch a break

I think there are definitely parts of this season that I enjoy more than the first, and parts I enjoy less. I love the characters they introduce (Isaac, Erica and Boyd) and I love the exploration of Allison’s character, and Stiles’ relationship with his dad. I hate Gerard (which is a good thing), and god bless Chris coming round to the winning side (even though technically he went through this same thing last season, of realising his family member must be stopped before his daughter gets hurt).

I do wish the ending was different, and that Scott went about defeating Gerard in a different way. Or at least for him to show any empathy? He just feels so callous and uncaring as he uses Derek and as Gerard dies and I don’t know if it’s bad acting or bad writing or maybe even my misunderstanding of his character, but I feel like that just doesn’t fit him. 

Also maybe this is just me, but I kinda wish that Matt wasn’t major stalking Allison. It feels a little like an unnecessary cherry on top, or maybe I’m just not thinking hard enough about what it added to the season.

[porcelain--roses]

𝑪𝑯𝑨𝑷𝑻𝑬𝑹 𝑻𝑾𝑶: 𝑊𝐸𝐿𝐿, 𝐻𝐼 𝑇𝐻𝐸𝑅𝐸.

Angelique rolled her eyes, her annoyance manifesting itself in a heavy sigh that escaped her scarlet lips. 

‘Listen, Damian—’ 

 ‘Derek, ma’am,’ her assistant — and intruder — interrupted. 

 ‘𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳,’ the witch gnarled. ‘Do you think it’s excusable to come disturb me about “a group of eccentric hippies passing Collinsport”, as if that weren't an everyday event?' 

She waved her hand in the air and returned to the files to which she had been tending before Derek, the moron, decided to come into her office yapping. ‘Now kindly scat. I’m in the middle of something important.’ 

 ‘Well, 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘦 eccentric hippies seem to have decided to stay a while,' the man insisted. 'It seems they have been around the extremities of town for the last couple of days – a few RVs parked up next to each other.’

Angelique stopped in her tracks. 𝘕𝘦𝘸 ��𝘦𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘴 in Collinsport was odd news to say the least; people barely cared about visiting the town -- why would anyone be interested in moving there? 

She finally eyed her assistant attentively, resting her chin on her clenched fist and quirking her eyebrows. 

‘𝑶𝒉? Fresh meat, yes?’ 

The young man nodded. ‘Yes, ma’am. No one had ever seen them before.’

'Interesting,' Angelique muttered, nodding distractedly for a couple of seconds. ‘Well then,' she said, grinning, as she started from her seat, maybe I should pay our new neighbours a visit.’

𝘛𝘰 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘪𝘵 𝘤𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘳𝘶𝘭𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦, she added in her mind.

‘I'm sure a friendly little welcome won’t hurt.’

________________

The woman sat with her face stuck in a frown, poking at the remnants of last night’s fire. 

“Another disappointment.” 

It seemed that all that Collinsport had to offer her crew was more stories and local haunts— and that goddamn smell of fish. 

Anyone who could’ve testified firsthand to the atrocities committed long ago seemed dead or forgotten. 

How very odd, Rose thought to herself.

But as she sat in the summer’s heat, a shadow appeared, coming between her and the sun. “Back so soon from the grocer, Daddy?”

His Shine was a bit more powerful today, she thought. But of course, everyone had their good days... even her. 

Curious to the occasion, she looked up. “𝑾𝒆𝒍𝒍... 𝑯𝒊 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆.”

________________

"𝘉𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘴𝘰 𝘴𝘰𝘰𝘯 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘳𝘰𝘤𝘦𝘳, 𝘋𝘢𝘥𝘥𝘺?" 

The blonde gave out a low chuckle. That wasn't exactly the way to which she was used to introduce herself. 

 'I'm afraid 𝑫𝒂𝒅𝒅𝒚 hasn't really come from the grocer,' the witch mocked, her eyes fixed on the mysterious figure. 

She came closer. The brown-haired woman was hauntingly beautiful, and the eyes beneath the obnoxious hat, the bluest she had ever seen.

𝑰 𝒈𝒖𝒆𝒔𝒔 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝒏𝒆𝒘𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒎𝒆𝒓 𝒉𝒊𝒑𝒑𝒊𝒆 𝑰 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅 𝒕𝒐𝒍𝒆𝒓𝒂𝒕𝒆, she thought. 

 'I'm sure you've mistaken me for someone else.' She offered the woman her hand. 'Angelique Bouchard. 𝘐 𝘳𝘶𝘯 𝘊𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘱𝘰𝘳𝘵.'

________________

Rose laughed at her mocking banter, nipping at her bottom lip as the woman introduced herself. 

With Bouchard’s hand graciously extended, Rose made a bold decision to 𝒅𝒆𝒄𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒆— instead, using her own weight. And once standing, she took in the figure standing before her. 

Bleach blonde hair, bright blue eyes, and of course— a pinstriped suit that plunged further than most would dare to look. Of course, Rose did. She admired a power-suit... that is, one accompanied by an equally powerful woman. 

Yes, Bouchard seemed up to par for the task. 

 “So you’re in charge of this little haunt? I do hope you haven’t received any complaints, 𝑴𝒊𝒔𝒔(?) Bouchard. Me and my 𝒇𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒔 were just curious to the stories of this place.” 

Surely the woman emanating Shine like an exploding star could tell her a story or two.

________________

The stranger's refusal to take her hand astounded Angelique, but she could not deny that the irreverence amused her. 

She retreated her palm, eyeing the other woman from head to toe. 4

'That I am,' she responded. 'But I must admit I know nothing of these "stories" you mention.'

She hoped the deceitful tone of her words would pass unheeded. 

'Anyway, I stopped by to bid you welcome, really.' A devilishly beautiful but menacing smile crept upon her lips as the blonde reached out to gently touch the other woman's arm.

Angie knew of her power of persuasion, and she liked to make the most out of it. She loved to see people giving in to her charms; which, of course the blue-eyed stranger would, too. 

𝑾𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅𝒏'𝒕 𝒔𝒉𝒆? 

'I'm afraid I haven't got your name.' 

“That’s because I never gave it, ” was Rose’s most casual reply, placing her own hand atop Angelique’s. 

With a polite squeeze, she wiped it off, eyes penetrating the blonde as if she were her next meal. “But if you’re so keen to welcome me to your humble town, I suppose you could ask me over dinner.” 

 A chance to spend some time alone with her next victim? Oh, Rose could hardly contain herself. So very rarely did they waltz up to her like this. 

Not since 1852.  

Angelique quirked an eyebrow, eyed the mysterious woman from head to toe, and scoffed amusedly. 

The stranger’s petulance was rather entertaining. 

‘Dinner,’ she muttered. ‘Well, why not? Seven o’clock tonight at my place, shall we?’ She smiled stiffly.

The witch either had too much to lose or nothing at all, but the latter option seemed more like it. After all, Angie couldn’t possibly come across anyone half as powerful and menacing as her, right?

The tilt of Rose’s head seemed wholly amused ( or somewhat flattered ) by the woman’s gesture. More-so by the permanent smile resting upon her newfound companion’s face. 

“Should I assume we are dining alone, Miss Bouchard?” 

That didn’t seem mildly suspicious at all.

But her thoughts were soon interrupted by the sights of the others. True Knot’s most devoted member (besides herself), Crow Daddy, stood in front of the rest. 

Ignoring him, Rose returned to Angelique— grin partly interrupted by a newfound look of worry. 

Had they noticed too?

The blonde took a small step back when she noticed the eerie figures surrounding her and her new acquaintance. They did not look friendly — but Angie was never one to back down.

Especially not from newcomers in 𝑯𝑬𝑹 town.

Tilting her chin up, she shook the feeling of threat off, but the pearly smile was gone from her lips. 

‘Unless you’d like your friends to join us,’ she purred as she glanced back at the brunette. ‘I suppose that’s... 𝑫𝒂𝒅𝒅𝒚?’ she taunted, eyeing the man who led the others.

Rose 𝒅𝒊𝒅 feel a tinge if embarrassment at the nickname she deemed her... 𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒏𝒆𝒓— as evident by the widening of her eyes as it escaped those pillowy lips. 

“I’m sure I could escape them for a few hours,” she said, stepping forward to return the distance that had previously been between them. 

“In fact— I would request that you 𝒊𝒏𝒔𝒊𝒔𝒕 that much, Miss Bouchard. I might dread any one of them 𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒂𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈 you from me.”

Especially if they had already detected her Shine. 

But a grin had returned to her face, trying to save the moment with a final burst of charm. 

“What do you say? Would you have me all to yourself?”

Angie easily recognised the tinge of flirt in the woman's words, but remained unfazed — even though on the inside she was savouring every bit of it. 

She bobbed her head:— 'I think some 𝒑𝒓𝒊𝒗𝒂𝒄𝒚 would do us good, yes.' A side smirk crept on her lips in spite of her wishes.

And speaking of privacy, the witch had no desire to let the meddling, ill-looking people around them know her address, and so she stepped closer to the stranger, leaned into her ear, and whispered slowly, 

'My house is the only mansion in town. You shouldn't have much trouble finding it -- but if you do, just ask around for what was formerly known as the 𝑪𝒐𝒍𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒔 residence.' 

 And then she simply walked away, not a single glance back. 

________________

The way she walked away was with such confidence... it was hard to dismiss the small swing in her hips. 

Yes, the blonde was certainly proud of herself, wasn’t she? Alas, there was no time to dwell on that, as her posse soon accompanied her. 

 “Who was that?” 

“An acquaintance,” Rose replied in a rather innocent lilt. It was hardly a lie, that was for sure. 

“She seemed full of 𝒊𝒕...” 

 “Hush, Crow.”

Unfortunately, her dark-haired companion didn’t take so kindly to this, taking Rose to the side and grasping her hand as if it was a threat. 

( Even Grandpa Flick seemed to kiss his teeth in disapproval. ) 

“You’re not holding out on us, are you Rosie?” 

“Of 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒔𝒆 not. You think I’d let all of us starve for some city bitch in high heels? I want to know if there are more of them here.” 

He didn’t seem wholly satisfied with her answer, but it didn’t matter. Rose jerked her hand from his, stomping off to her RV. 

“𝑹𝒐𝒔𝒊𝒆...” 

“I’ll drain that damn Shine from her fighting corpse when the time is right, but not before I get the information that 𝑰 want.” 

The door slammed behind her, rushing to the sink to wash her face. After all, the Irish Rose would need to present her best side tonight. She’d need to be ready for whatever the evening brought. 

And since it seemed like it would be a rather formal dinner, it was eventually decided that she could ditch her overtly Bohemian style for one night.

Searching her small closet, she fingered through every skirt until she reached a deep blue suit with a satin collar. 

“Power suits,” she mumbled to herself. 

“I do wonder if Miss Bouchard is accustomed to being the 𝒐𝒏𝒍𝒚 big fish in her little pond. Such a  𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒚 little thing... but a damn good waste.”

________________ 𝐄𝐍𝐃 𝐎𝐅 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐖𝐎 ༄

[noahstilinski]

Just a Scratch - Derek Hale

Ok wow I got a little... Carried away with this one

You must forgive me lmao

Masterlist

Requested: Yes

Prompt:  Hey I wanted to request a Derek Hale imagine- hope that's not too much. Fem!reader(has Hunter skills) and Derek are in relationship and in love. TheY both get in a nasty fight and reader get a *little* hurt but Derek goes all protective and AAAAAHHHHHH. Basically a little fluff. Thanks and have a good day.

Pairing: Derek Hale x Reader

Word count: 3511

Warnings: Language, violence

"Remember you have an essay due for next Monday on the economic crisis of 1929" You reminded your class as the bell rang. "Mr. Dunbar, if you could please stay for a minute" You dropped the chalk on the holder and wiped your hands on your jeans. You waited for the class to empty and faced Liam, a sympathetic look on your face.  "I know, I know" He beat you to it. "I'm sorry" "Liam, I understand that you're out there literally protecting this city from all kinds of evil, and I'm all the more grateful for it, believe me" You sighed. "But as your teacher, I really cannot give you anymore free passes without it becoming suspicious"

You had done your best to pick other people to summarize the readings or answer the questions. You even made him retake tests when you knew he had been on werewolf duty the night before. But you couldn't cover for him forever, especially not with the school board on your heels. 

This time, he failed to give back a homework sheet that counted for five percent of his grade. You told him out loud he'd get zero out of it, but you knew you'd find a way to cheat the system yet again. However, you also knew you couldn't keep doing that for long without losing your teaching license.  "I'll do it tonight, the sheet" He replied. "I swear" "Alright" You nodded. "And heads up, tomorrow I'll randomly choose you to do the readings summary. Don't make us both look like fools, please" "Thanks (Y/N)" He gave you a faint smile. "I won't, I promise" "Now woosh, go save the world" You tilted your head toward the door. "Let me grade my papers in peace" His smile widened a bit at your joke and he scurried out of the class, nodding in salutation at someone outside the class. You thought it might have been a student until the person stepped in the doorframe. "Don't tell him that, or he's actually going to do it" Derek snorted, walking nonchalantly in the class.  "What are you doing here?" You had meant to be stern, but your happiness to see him betrayed your facial expression.  "Coming to see you" He replied easily. "Isn't that obvious?"  "What did we say about visit on work hours?" You scolded, even though you went straight for his open arms.  "Technically, school's been over for..." He trailed off and looked at his watch over your shoulder. "Two minutes five seconds" "Smartass" You rolled your eyes, but smiled nonetheless. "But seriously, did I forget we had a date or something?" "Can't I just pick you up from school as a grand gesture of love?" He raised an eyebrow, which made you squint your eyes at him in suspicion. You knew he wouldn't pick you up without telling you, he hadn't done it in the years you've been with him. Derek hated surprises.  "Der" You warned, taking a step back. "What's going on?" "Nothing" He shrugged unconvincingly. "I just want to make sure that you're safe, that's all" "Is this about the wannabe hunters swarming the town?" You crossed your arms against your chest, and the shift on his expression confirmed your thoughts. "I'm fine, Derek. You don't need to watch over me" "What if they ambush you?" He asked with an edge in his voice, like he was genuinely scared they'd get to you. "We've seen what they're capable of" "Should I remind you I'm not a supernatural being?" You sighed as you sat back at your chair. "It's not me they want" "But they want me" He countered. "And correct me if I'm wrong, but we haven't been exactly subtle in terms of hiding our relationship. They could want you by association" "You're not wrong" You gave him a short chuckle. "Okay, let's say they decide to take me down to get to you. I doubt I'm high enough on Gerard's priority list for him to do it himself, so who'd he send? His pet, Monroe?" "She's more vicious than she lets on, (Y/N)" He almost pleaded.  "I know how she is, and I'm not afraid of her" You smiled at him. "That little martyr act is quite pathetic, if you want my opinion. And no matter what she got, remember I've been doing this for way longer than she has" At that, Derek let a quick smile pass through his serious demeanor. He probably had an idea of what went down, knowing you and your hatred for people like her. She had cornered you after school a few weeks ago, pushed you in a corner in a poorly executed grip and sent you an ultimatum. Either you'd leave Derek, or you'd perish with the rest. Now, you weren't the one to get involved, but this direct attack on you had made you angry.  When she had been done talking and gloating about how much of a champion she was, you had easily overturned her grip and changed role, pushing her back on the wall and kicking her down to her knees. Your grip, at opposite of hers, had been much more solid and efficient. You had then told her that you wouldn't play her game and wage war on her, unless she came after Derek or yourself first.  Apparently, your little demonstration of force worked, because she had left you alone ever since.  "I know you're not scared of her, (Y/N)" He said. "But it's not the point" "You think I can't defend myself?" You challenged, eying the little cylindrical shape poking out of your pencil basket. Derek followed your line of sight and shook his head.  "That you definitely can, not arguing" He replied. "But if they decide to come anyway, we'll be glad we have each other. Strength in numbers, remember" "I know, but I'm at school. I doubt they'll hit a human here, in a public place. Too much PR to handle" You explained. "Besides, I have papers to grade" "Okay that was a lame excuse for a life or death situation" He pointed out and you rolled your eyes. "But it's fine by me, I'll stay here" You were about to protest when he pulled out a chair and dragged it back loudly enough to cover any other sound in the room. He let himself fall down and threw his keys on the desk, still making as much noise as possible. Asshole. "I'll stay here. If something happens, you'll be glad" He spoke again. "And if not, you'll have the satisfaction of being right and knowing you wasted my time for nothing" "Deal" You smiled tightly. "But not a sound, Derek Hale. Or I'll throw you out of the window" He made a zipping gesture over his mouth and threw the imaginary key over his shoulder. You sighed and shook your head, taking the first copy on your desk and getting back into the grading rhythm.  Before you even knew it, the sun set and darkness took over. It was actually a yawn coming from Derek that made you notice that much time had passed and that you only had one copy left.  You hurried grading that one, and you were sorry in advance for the poor student that would have to read your correction. But to be fair, you had a hard time reading his handwriting too, so much you couldn't even understand the last two questions. "Oh Greenberg, what the hell did you write" You muttered to yourself as you massaged your temples. You then heard Derek's chair scrape on the floor as he stood up abruptly.  "Did you hear that?" He asked, furrowing his eyebrows. "T’was just me complaining" You yawned again. "It's fine--" "No..." He trailed off, gesturing you to stay silent. You sat up straighter as you suddenly became more alert of your surroundings, your hand hovering closer to your pencil basket.  Then, total silence fell over the room. Not even the pipes could be heard, and it made your blood chill in your vein. This could never be good.  "Get down!" You felt it coming before Derek's shout by watching him tense up all at once, his eyes widening considerably. You dived under the desk, but not before snatching your weapon before you did. You ducked under the wood as bullets flew everywhere. Derek then came crashing down beside you and scurried for cover too.  He nodded at you to let you know he was fine, and you nodded back. No bullet had gotten to either of you yet, or at least not fatally to him. You waited until the guns were emptied, and your attacker stepped in the room. "(Y/N)" Monroe taunted. "Come out, I know you're here" "Oh hey" You replied, still under the desk. "I thought we had come to an agreement. I'm disappointed" "I don't agree with people who protect murderers" She sneered. "Ah, and I'm guessing your current backup have picked firearms recently as a hobby" You scoffed as you and Derek quietly planned your strategy with hand gestures. He’d take half of her back up, you’d take the rest and Monroe. "Or have you brought kids this time?" "Those kids know the only way they'll stay alive in this town is if they take arms against those who pose a threat" She growled. "And that includes you" "Tamora, most things you say are painfully whiny, but I gotta admit" You nodded at Derek and slowly raised to your feet. Four men in black were standing at her side; too bad it wouldn't be enough. "You're goddamned right" You pressed the button on the black cylinder in your hands and it extended to a full staff with sharpened steel edges. Behind you, Derek roared, and you could almost feel the raw power emanating from him.  "I am a threat"  Before any of them could reload their guns, which you noted to be a beginner's mistake, you both jumped in action. You kicked Monroe's gun out of her hands, then kneed her in the stomach as she bent to catch it mid air. As she was catching her breath, you dealt with the man at her right. You spun your staff and brought it down on his riffle, sending it to the floor. You sneaked a punch before ducking his incoming fist, but you were thrown off your feet when another man slammed into you.  "Son of a bitch" You groaned as you got back on your feet. You grabbed a book that fell off the shelf and slammed it in the face on your new assailant with a mean swing, sending him to the ground unconscious.  The first man charged to you and backed you to the wall, pushing you into it hard enough to cave it in. You lifted your arms to block his punches, waiting for his rhythm to fade. When it did, you grabbed his fist mid air and twisted his arm, pushing his elbow inside out with a loud crack.  While he howled out in pain, you grabbed your discarded staff and slashed both his shoulder muscles and the back of his knee, so he wouldn't be able to stand and shoot again. You wiped out the blood from your lips and nose and turned around to find Monroe, but you had to throw yourself on the ground before you saw her. A gun had fired, and you heard the bullet whistle past your ear. You saved your fall with a roll, and came face to face with the barrel of a gun, halting your movements all at once. At least you had found her.  "You don't wanna do this, Monroe" It was Derek who said that, the two unmoving bodies at his feet.  "I actually want to do this bad" She replied with a cocky grin. "If you try anything, I blow her brain" "It's find Der, let me handle this" You spoke carefully, giving him a quick glance and a nod. Then, you looked up at Monroe. "So. I guess you already have a story prepared to explain this mess" "Don't even try" She scoffed dryly. "I won't let down my guards" "Oh, I know" You chuckled. "It was probably the first thing Gerard taught you, wasn't it?" She cocked the gun as an answer. "Here's the thing" You kept talking, not breaking eye contact. "You think you're all high and mighty because you've been training with Gerard for a few months. You've learn a lot, you think. Maybe you really did. You think you're experienced because you've taken down scared teenagers, so you think you can go against targets above your skill set" "Does my gun on your forehead seems above my skill set?" She taunted, and you smiled. "You're feeling invincible now, don't you?" You hummed. "But let me remind you, that while you were still a clueless civilian, I had already years of experience. And right now, your lack of it gave the opening I needed" Before she could register your words, you swatted her wrist away and kicked her knees from the ground. Her gun fired again, but this time you didn't back down. You jumped on her and straddled her, a hand on her throat and your legs restraining her arms.  "Next time you try that, no matter how much fire power you bring, I'll kill you" You hissed before knocking her unconscious with the rest of her men.  You stood up and grabbed your staff, retracting it to the smaller cylinder shape. You then dusted off your material and put back the copies in your bag, sighing when you noticed Greenberg's was decorated with a long splatter of blood. You threw the strap of your bag on your shoulder and walked out of the class with Derek, wincing at your sore arms.  No words were exchanged until you were well away from the school. The radio in Derek's car played some billboard's songs, but you tuned the sound out when you started feeling some pricking pain on your side. You reached to it and felt a wet liquid covering you, which you noticed was red when you got a glimpse of it under a street light.  "You're bleeding" Derek stated and you didn't miss the new panic in his voice. "The bullet hit you" "It's alright" You reassured. "It's just a scratch, not even that deep" "Shit, I should have taken her down" He gritted his teeth and tightened his hand on the wheel, so much his knuckles turned white. "I'm sorry (Y/N), fuck" Your eyes widened when he floored the gas pedal, you knew he wanted to get you home asap.  "No really I'm fine" You tried to make him realize that you were, in fact, okay. "I don't even think I'll need stitches" "We're almost there" He mumbled as he almost drove into the half opened garage door.  "Are you crazy--oof" You winced when he slammed the brakes in his designed parking. He sent you an apologetic glance before rushing to your side of the car. "I can walk, you know?" He didn't listen to you as he gently picked you up and carried you to his apartment. You knew it was useless to protest, he was like a rock in every sense of the term. He then placed you on the wooden table and grabbed the first aid kit in the cabinet. "Take off your shirt" "I don't think this is the right moment for that, babe" You joked, but took off the ripped clothe nonetheless.  "Really? You're doing this right now?" He scolded, eyebrows raised. "Come on, lighten up a bit" You laughed, but it made your side hurt. "Ouch" "Don't--" He caught your wrist before you could give in to the reflex to cover your wound with your hand. "Here, let me" You pulled back your arm to give him access to the wound so he could clean it and check the damage better. When he sighed in relief, you knew you had been right and that it was only a minor flesh wound.  "Told ya it was nothing" You smiled warmly at him as he carefully cleaned the skin around that was covered in blood. "See, I'm alright" "Still need to bandage it" He mumbled as he grabbed the gauze and tape, getting to work without wasting time. "Better to be careful" "I know" You whispered back as your hand went to rest on his cheek. He looked up at you with tired and worried eyes when he was done patching you up, and it made your smile widen. "I'm tougher than you give me credit for" "I know how tough you are" He replied and nuzzled his face in your neck, intertwining his hand in yours. "I'm just scared one day the bullet will hit somewhere you cannot heal" "Then we make sure this doesn't happen" You shrugged lightly. "Damn right" He replied as he took a step back, but didn't let go of your hand. "I'm not letting you out of my sight until this hunter problem is settled" "That's a bit unrealistic, don't you think?" You raised an eyebrow.  "Watch me"  "And what about school tomorrow?" You asked again. "I doubt the school board will let me have my boyfriend looming in the back of the class" "Call in sick" He suggested. "Absolutely not" You gasped. "You're all banged up anyway" He tried to convince you. "Stay here. With me" "As much as it sounds appealing, I'm still going to work tomorrow" You denied him. "What if Monroe shows up and I don't? Bam. She wins. Besides, they won't try anything against a human during school hours, and if they're stupid enough to try it, Liam will be there" He knew you were right. It was just history classes on a Friday, after all. And unless the hunters decided to shoot a bunch of innocent kids just to get to you, they would get more legal trouble than they could handle.  "Fine" He finally conceded. "But I'm driving you AND picking you up right after school hours. If you feel there's anything wrong, and I mean anything: with the wound or even just a feeling, you call me. Okay?" "Okay" You agreed, even though it was a bit much. But Derek was like that, and it was fine by you. "Should I call you mom? It would feel right after that speech" "Don't call me mom" He said sternly. "Alright then" You grinned at his offence. "Now if you don't mind, I'm gonna go to sleep" You started getting off the table, but Derek stopped you. "Nope" He shook his head. "You need to take it easy, so no walking tonight" "You must be kidding me" You deadpanned. "You saw the wound, it's nothing" "It's something enough to be careful" He argued, picking you up in his arms and carrying you again upstairs to the bedroom. He then put your down on the soft surface of the mattress and grabbed your pajama shorts from the dresser. He took off your jeans and replaced them by the stretchy clothing, all while you gave him an unimpressed look. It was something you could have done yourself without a problem.  He then paused and looked away, a distant look in his eyes. His shoulders slouched as he made his way around the bed and laid down beside you. "Derek" You called softly, and his glance met yours. They showed vulnerability, which was a rare occurrence for your boyfriend. "Thank you. For taking care of me" "Always" He mumbled as he took your hand and placed a kiss on it. "I'm sorry you got hurt because of me" "It's not because of you" You said, carefully rolling on your good side to face him. "It's because they're stupid and wrong and they don't like that I'm exposing them" Derek cracked a smile at that.  "I bet they'll be so jealous of my personal escort and bodyguard tomorrow" You added with a yawn. "They wish they had someone as good looking to do the job on top of it"  "We've been together for two years and a half, you don't need to flirt to get what you want" He rolled his eyes playfully, poking your shoulder where he was sure it wasn't bruised.  "What if flirting is what I want?" You challenged before laughing it off. Just seeing his smile made up for the terrible evening that had happened. "Come on, get your pretty ass closer. You can't protect me from all these feet apart" "Very funny" He tried to stay stern, but failed miserably. He scooted over and wrapped his arms around you, careful not to put weight over your injury. "I love you, (Y/N). So much" "I love you more" You smiled against his chest. "Goodnight, my fierce protector" "Goodnight, queen warrior" Your laugh at the nickname got lost as tiredness took over you, making you fall asleep in the arms of your lover.

[inkandblade]

Derek was glad for the four compass-point fires lit around the grand hall they’d been brought to; with this much smoke, no one in attendance could possibly scent the deception that Stiles was likely seeping through his every pore. Derek was not going to survive this. He was naked and hard and he needed to be closer to his mate. But no matter how hard he licked, how raw his stubble rubbed Stiles’ skin, he couldn’t taste him. Derek couldn’t taste or scent Stiles because of the potions they’d been fed by the Elders a few hours before — they’d separated him and Stiles and Derek was glad that his mate wouldn’t have been told the secrets of the liquids they’d been given. Derek licked a long line up Stiles’ throat again and settled against his chin to lave and lap and caress the skin there for what was the first, and likely last, time. Even now, as the chemicals and magic from the Elders’ concoction held it down, the wolf deep in Derek’s veins was clawing its way higher, impatient to test if the man before him was who it suspected but could not confirm. Derek had long since lost the fight with his claws. He let them scratch and skewer his own skin so that he didn’t risk doing it to Stiles instead — drawing mate’s blood without being able to scent it would be beyond maddening. He suspected that the change to his wolf-eyes would soon follow, then soon after his fangs. Before long, once the skylight was opened above them, the moonlight would hit his skin and enhance the effect of the potions and if the person standing before him was not his mate he’d kill them. This was the test Derek had been set, and the test he was taking: firstly to keep calm and satisfied by only that which his human-senses could perceive of his mate, and then confront them as fully wolf and have them survive. If he failed in either step the Elders would apparently choose a more suitable, a more purewolf appropriate mate for him. Stiles had stood beside him the week before when these so called Elders had descended on Beacon Hills, announced their decision to visit now that it was a safe place to exist, then informed them all that as a purewolf Derek had certain responsibilities to shoulder. If he refused the test, he and his Pack and anyone who might stand witness would die. It was the first time Derek had regretted inheriting his mother’s full-shift. The Elders had assumed that Stiles standing with Derek — taking Derek’s hand, holding Derek back from attacking them — had been as they were mates. They’d not approved, and both Stiles and Derek had purposefully fueled the misconception before realizing exactly what it would mean to the visitors. Stiles had refused the plane ticket to the other side of the world that Derek had bought him when they’d figured out just what the Elders were there for. Derek had only agreed to let him stay because, even if Stiles didn’t reciprocate, even if the human couldn’t feel the connection with his faculties, Derek knew without a doubt that Stiles was his mate. Even if they Elders killed Derek for the half-made bond he carried, Stiles should survive the rest of the night. The Pack would likely be left alone, too: the Elders were only concerned with those they considered worthy of their concern. They were only horrified by those they considered worth of their horror. They had no concern for anyone in Beacon Hills that wasn’t a full-blooded Hale-wolf. Derek whimpered at the thought that he would soon leave them all. “Hey, hey.” Stiles’ voice was soft and deep and it was definitely his. Derek couldn’t hear a heartbeat, though. He pressed his face into the thin skin of Stiles’ neck to feel the pulse just under the surface. Derek couldn’t speak. His fangs were in the way and his mouth didn’t want to make human noises. He huffed out what he hoped was a good response. “You’re looking wolfier by the second, Der.” Stiles wrapped his arm around Derek’s waist and used his other hand to bring Derek’s chin up a little so they were looking eye to eye. “I’m still me, even if I can now smell that they are burning the same stuff they fed us in that nasty cup-of-ick earlier. Talk about overkill.” Derek sucked in deep breath to try to test that idea and then realized what Stiles had just said. “Oh, what big eyes you have, Mr Wolf,” Stiles chuckled out. “They might not have deemed me worthy of really explaining what was going on, but I’m not an idiot. Even my human nose could identify what they gave me to drink, and they somehow didn’t figure that an emissary might know a little Latin. Their chanting was pretty transparent in its purpose. Transferring your senses to your mate is pretty cool, even if they’re asshats for doing it.” Stiles’ grip on Derek’s back grew harder. “I never wanted this to be a public declaration, and we are definitely talking about not keeping important secrets from each other once this is all over, but…” He looked so much like a wolf as he drew in air and his nostrils flattened then stretched. Derek licked at the skin he could reach. He couldn’t taste Stiles properly or hear his heart or say anything back but hopefully he could get his comprehension across. “I’m glad you agree. The mojo and the herbs they put in that potion are going to suck wearing off, but I want you to know that whatever you thought was going to happen because I wasn’t your mate isn’t going to happen. Obviously.” Derek had to concentrate on the sound of Stiles’ voice over the pounding of blood in his own ears. Stiles tapped out the rhythm of Derek’s pulse. “It’s cool hearing your heart speed up like that.” He pulled Derek even closer and then turned his head. “They’re about to open the skylight.” Derek couldn’t help the whine he let out. Stiles caught his gaze again and rubbed a thumb across his lips. “It’s going to hurt like a bitch. You are going to howl. I am probably going to scream. The moon will right the imbalance they’ve set up here, though. You’ll wake up with your eyes and ears and nose and everything back to normal again, and so will I. They’ll see that we survived, then they’ll fuck off and we can go back home and go back to normal after we have that chat I was talking about.” Derek growled softly and hated, for the first time in a very long time, that he couldn’t make words. The skylight above them creaked and then started to move. Derek looked up a moment and when he looked back Stiles’ eyes were wide and bright, and there was a smile in them and on his lips as he leaned in and pressed a kiss to Derek’s mouth.

[Image source] More Sterek ficlets and pornlets on tumblr and AO3.

[irronstarkss]

target.

pairing | derek morgan x reader

word count | 3183

warnings | mentions of blood 

part one | part two | part three | part four

criminal minds masterlist

|

Shakily, she did as she was told, sliding into the cabin of the truck and helping Freeman get Derek’s body in with her. She leaned against the other door, Derek’s head in her lap, as their abductor slammed the open door shut. She let out a sigh, whimpering a small bit as her fingers caressed her fiancé’s cheek.

Leaning down, she placed a kiss on his forehead, “Please, baby, wake up. Please.”

|

“H-Help,” she stuttered over her words, “help me.” It was selfish, meaningless whine that left her lips, something she knew would do no good in the long run. She had no energy to scream, and she knew that – even if Freeman hadn’t locked the doors, she had no chance of dragging Derek’s body to the building. As she rested her head against the door, she couldn’t help but think about how it had all happened so fast,  how she didn’t even have time to yell out for him in their house.

When he took her, he kept a knife to the bottom of her spine, and a hand over her mouth, quickly walking her to the front door. He took the hand over her mouth off, using it on the doorknob. Had he not pressed the knife deeper into her back, she would have yelled out for Derek, but the searing pain that came from the cut of the blade assisted Freeman in keeping her voice at bay.

He walked her out of the house, then made them stand on the sidewalk, watching Derek’s shadow dance across the curtained windows as he searched for her. Then, as his shadow disappeared, he dragged her into the dark space between their house and the neighbors, laughing as he watched Derek get in his car and drive off.

She let out a shaky breath as she remembered the pain of the knife cutting across the back of her knee, the blood spilling out and onto the floor as he made her walk across the bedroom. He grabbed her hand, taking the ring off her finger as she tried to fight against him, shoving her back onto the bed and leaving the room.

She looked around the room in horror, noticing the pictures on the wall and the jewelry on the dressers. It was a replica of her own bedroom, the photos framed of her and Derek the same as the ones in her own home. She wanted to scream, to cry out, to run out of the house. But she couldn’t walk out of that bedroom, from both physical and mental inhibitions, and she knew that if she did anything to piss him off, she would’ve been dead where she was.

She felt a knot in her throat form at the thought of dying, at the thought of never getting to live her life the way she wanted to, never getting to see Derek, her friends, her family, ever again. It terrified her, more than any situation she was caught in did.

The driver side door to the truck opened, snapping her out of her thoughts as she looked through the little space between the wall of the truck and the seat, watching Freeman clamber into the truck. She heard the spark of wires touching, then felt the vibration of the engine revving to life. She sighed, a tear ran down her cheek and she rested her head against the door behind her.

Her hands cradled Derek’s head, fingers delicately tracing across his features, and her eyes closed as she began to fall into the grasp of fatigue. She began to replay the night through her mind once more, remembering each detail as vividly as possible. She remembered the cut, the idle waiting for him to get back upstairs. She remembered feeling him make a crude stitch to the back of her knee, of which she couldn’t help but whimper through, and then wrap it, whispering that she couldn’t die just yet.

It confused her, truly, to think that he would repair her wounds like that. But it hurt her head to think about it any further; her pulse was slamming against her temple, and the man laying against her legs only reminded her of the pain of the moment. She wished she could help him, that she could uncuff him, get him out of the truck, and away from wherever they were going.

But, the reality of the situation was, she couldn’t.

She was woken by a sudden jolt, and then the sound of a car door slamming. Opening her eyes, she looked down and saw that Derek was still unconscious. Then her eyes snapped up to the door opposite to her, watching as it flung open and Freeman grabbed Derek’s ankles, yanking his limp body out of the truck.

She tried to tell him no, tried to pull back on him, but Freeman ended up dragging her, too. Within seconds, they were both lying on the ground, Derek’s wrist beginning to bruise and lacerate, her own wrist already bleeding. Freeman grabbed her by the chin, “Help me, or I shoot him.”

Y/n looked down, then noticing that Freeman was holding Derek’s own gun to his forehead. Swallowing hard, she nodded, “Please, don’t shoot him. Don’t hurt him.”

“Then pick up his arms, and help me,” he said, grabbing Derek by the legs. The two of them dragged him into – what y/n realized was – their house, pulling him up the stairs and then throwing him on the bed. He then loosened Derek’s cuff, grabbing both of her hands and cuffing them behind her while pushing her onto her knees on the floor.

He used Derek’s own cuffs to restrain him, then left the room for a few moments, only to return with duct tape. As he came into the room, he ripped out a piece, tearing it down the edge and pushing it against Derek’s mouth. He left her alone, throwing the tape onto the bed and then walking over to Derek’s body.

Reaching down, he slapped him a few times before Derek woke with a start, jolting forward, then rocking back onto his shoulder, while straining against his cuffs. His eyes darted around until they connected with yours, widening. He tried to speak, his voice coming out as nothing more than a muffled mumble. Freeman grabbed his bicep, pulling him up and onto his knees, across from y/n.

Derek looked up at Freeman with a rage in his eyes that y/n had never witnessed before, and it was more than terrifying to see him so primal. Freeman looked down at Derek with a sadistic grin, pulling his knife out and pointing it toward y/n. “You ever heard her scream?” Freeman laughed as Derek glared up at him in anger, trying to mask his fear through infuriated stares, “I think you should.”

Derek watched as Freeman walked over to y/n, grazing the flat side of the knife across her face and over her chest. She kept her breathing steady, staring at Derek and shaking her head, telling him not to give in. Freeman grabbed her chin, jerking her head upward and asking her where she wanted to be cut.

“Let me go,” she said calmly.

“What’s Derek’s favorite part? Your chest? Maybe, just maybe, your stomach?” As he asked, he let the blade lightly caress the mentioned areas, and a shiver racked her spine. Freeman looked at Derek, watching his reactions to his words. Derek’s eyebrows drew together at the mention of cutting her stomach, and Freeman laughed. “Stomach it is.”

Carefully, he pulled up her shirt, cutting just below her ribcage. She let out a breath, and Derek a grunt, reaching forward, straining against his cuffs once more.

“Son of a bitch,” she whispered, breathing through the stinging sensation pulsing from her stomach.

“No scream?” Freeman taunted, cocking his head to the side, “How about if I cut you again?” Again, he dragged the knife across her skin, leaving another cut opposite the already existing one. He saw the tears well up in Derek’s eyes, so he cut harder on the left side, tracing over his previous cut. Then, y/n began to break.

“Stop,” she said, hissing as he pushed the knife deeper into the cut, “please, stop.”

Freeman let go of her chin, letting her body go limp, “Okay. I’ll stop.” Walking away from her near-limp form, he dropped the knife on their bed, picking up Derek’s gun and turning on the flashlight. Shining it in the bound man’s eyes, he watched Derek squint, flinching at the harshness of the bulb and  trying to see past the light and over to y/n.

He kept the light shining in Derek’s eyes for a few moments longer, before looking over his shoulder at y/n and giving a single nod. Rearing back, he pistol-whipped Derek across the cheek, a cut appearing on his cheekbone. He fell over, grunting in pain, and shutting his eyes. Y/n tried to whisper his name, keeping her cries at bay – the last thing Freeman needed was the satisfaction of her screams.

Freeman walked back over to y/n, dropping down onto his knees and wrapping his hands around her throat. She started to choke, unable to breathe as he gripped tighter and tighter. She coughed, fingers twitching, arms trying to reach forward and claw at his hands. His thumbs pushed on her windpipe, threatening to crush it.

Derek yelled out, voice pushing against the tape across his mouth. Freeman laughed at the yells, loosening his grip on her throat, still threatening her life. Y/n gasped for breath, closing her eyes and coughing. Derek began to thrash on the floor, pushing up and onto his knees, then to his feet.

Freeman let her go, pushing her back on her calves and standing up to Derek. Robert Freeman was considerably shorter than Derek Morgan, standing inches below him. Using this to his advantage, Derek brought his knee up, connecting it with Freeman’s crotch as hard as possible. Doubling over, Freeman cradled himself, his knees beginning to buckle. Again, Derek kneed him, this time connecting with his forehead and knocking him out.

Stepping over to his fiancée, he dropped to his knees and got her attention, speaking through the duct tape over his mouth as best he could. Her chest was heaving, and he felt so powerless, seeing her laying there, unable for him to help. He tried to work the tape off his mouth, moving his lips around until they were finally apart underneath the vocal bind.

“Y/n,” he said, though it still came out muffled. “‘ey.”

She opened her eyes, moving her head so that she could look at him, “Derek,” she whispered. Turning onto her forehead, she pushed herself up and onto her knees. “We need,” she breathed out, still trying to catch her breath from being choked, “we need to get these, these cuffs off.”

Derek nodded.

“Here,” she turned around, “bend down, let me get the duct– duct tape off.”

He leaned down, letting his face meet her fingers and moving his head so that she could get the tape off his mouth. Once she had it off, he let out a sigh, leaning back on his calves and letting his head fall back. Y/n looked around, turning on her kneecaps to face Derek, “The key, he left the keys on the bed.”

Derek pushed himself onto his feet, walking over to the bed and looking at the comforter, taking a moment to find the silver key against the grey bedspread. Turning, he sat on the bed and leaned backwards, fingers searching the bed in the area he knew he saw the key. The tips of his pinkies brushed against the metal, so he leaned back further, finally grabbing the key and getting it securely in his hands.

Walking back over to y/n, he told her to stand and turn around so that her back was to him. He crouched down just a bit, using the key to trace the lines of the cuffs until he found the keyhole. It took maneuvering, but he finally managed to turn the key in the slot, unlocking the cuffs. Quickly, y/n pulled out of them, grabbing the key from Derek’s fingers and unlocking his.

As soon as the both of them were free, Derek wrapped his arms around y/n, and y/n wrapped hers around him. She let her forehead fall against his shoulder, breathing calming down and steadying out. Derek pressed a kiss to her head, letting his lips rest there as he closed his eyes and sighed into her hair.

“I love you, y/n,” he said quietly, tightening his hold on her, “so goddamn much.”

“I love you, more than you know, Derek Morgan,” she whispered into his shirt, before pulling away and staring up at him. Leaming down, Derek met her lips with a kiss, soft and meaningful.

Derek held her to his body a little longer afterward, kissing her temple before pulling away and looking around her face. There were little bruises, a gash on the side, and her neck was beginning to purple where Freeman had gripped her neck.

“I’m sorry,” Derek said, holding her head in his hands, “I’m so sorry.”

“Derek, baby,” she said, holding the hands against her cheeks with her own, “this isn’t your fault. Things happen, I knew they would. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t already accept that.”

He stayed silent, kissing her forehead once before taking her hand and leading her into the bathroom. “Let me see your cuts, baby,” he said softly, grabbing the hem of her shirt and lifting it, looking at the cuts just below her bra with dark, worried brown eyes. “Can you take this off?”

Y/n nodded, grabbing the shirt from Derek’s hands and pulling it over her head, hissing slightly at the sting of stretching her arms. Derek went into the cabinet below her, pulling out the gauze kit from beneath the sink and grabbing a towel to clean her wounds to the best of his ability. He kept his touches light, dabbing the blood off her stomach and carefully swiping across the cuts.

“Derek, babe,” y/n said lightly, catching his attention, “I think it’s time for a move.”

Derek chuckled, putting down the towel and pulling out the gauze, “You know, baby girl, I think you’re right.”

She let out a breathy giggle, straightening up as Derek wrapped the gauze around her stomach and lower ribs. He cursed himself for letting this happen to her, but thanked whoever was above them that she was safe, and strong enough to get through the pain. Going into his closet, Derek pulled out a black henley shirt like the red one, giving it to her to slip over her head.

She smiled, putting the shirt on, and then leaning against his chest for a few moments. The silence in the room was soon broken by a shuffling coming from the floor of the bedroom, and y/n tensed in Derek’s arms. Pulling away from her, he warned her to stay there and walked out into the bedroom, seeing Freeman standing with the knife in his hands once more.

“You’re serious?” Derek said under his breath, walking forward and grabbing Freeman’s hand. The man was still shaking away the light-headedness, meaning he was in no state to fight. But, he pushed against Morgan’s hands anyway, attempting to drive the knife into Derek’s stomach. The bigger man’s grip countered it easily, though, leaving Freeman to give all his remaining energy to a vain purpose.

Focused on the hand with the knife, Morgan didn’t see the fist to his left side – the same side that had been pistol whipped – swing and meet his left eye. He stumbled over, just a little, but kept the knife at a safe distance, twisting Freeman’s arm so that he turned around against his chest. Ripping the knife from the man’s grip, he threw it onto the ground and twisted Freeman’s arm harder, hearing the man groan.

“Don’t like that, do ya? Does it hurt, you son of a bitch? Huh?” Derek grabbed Freeman’s other arm, wrapping it around to his back and holding his wrists together. Leaning down, with the man still in his grip, he grabbed his cuffs off the ground and wrapped them around his wrists, tightening them uncomfortably so.

There was a blast of noise downstairs, and Derek tensed, looking over his shoulder and out the bedroom door. 

“FBI!”

“Up here!” Morgan called, walking Freeman to the doorway and pushing him out and into the hallway. He looked down the stairs, seeing Hotch and Reid coming up toward them, “Get him the hell out of my house.”

Hotch grabbed him and walked him down the stairs, passing Reid along the way. Spencer looked up at Morgan, watching as the man clenched his jaw and frowned. JJ and Prentiss came up behind them, the three on the stairs looking up to Morgan, asking if he was okay in their own, silent ways.

“‘M fine. We need a medic, though. Son of a bitch got y/n,” he said, and Reid nodded, passing the women and leaving the house.

The two women watched as y/n walked out of the bedroom, standing beside Derek and grabbing his hand, intertwining their fingers. Derek looked over at her, pressing his lips to her temple, and then back at the door. She looked at JJ and Emily, smiling weakly, “Hey, guys.”

“Hey, you okay?” JJ asked, looking over the bandage on her knee and the bruises that littered her exposed skin.

“Been better,” she let go of Derek’s hand, looking up at him and nodding before walking down to JJ, wrapping her arms around the blonde woman. JJ hugged her back, giving her a reassuring squeeze before she moved onto Emily,, thanking them both for everything that they did. “Even the smallest things helped get him here. Thank you.”

JJ and Emily nodded, letting the couple know that they would have to go upstairs and process their bedroom. Y/n nodded, looking up to Derek and silently asking him to come down with her. Quietly, the two women stood to the side and let the two walk past them, giving each other looks of sadness before going up into their bedroom.

Derek and Y/n walked out of the house and to the paramedics car, y/n sitting against it and informing the medic of her wounds. Derek felt himself bristle at the thought of Freeman stitching and wrapping her knee, but he knew there was no point in being mad now. Robert Freeman was going away, longer than he was originally sentenced, and the relief that filled Morgan’s heart at that thought was beyond words.

Sitting beside her, letting his arm drape across her shoulders as she leaned against him, he whispered, “You know what, baby?”

“What’s that?” She asked, closing her eyes.

“I think we should move that marriage date up,” he smiled, earning a sweet chuckle from the woman below her.

“Agreed, babe. Agreed,” she kissed his shoulder, resting her forehead in the crook of his neck and blocking out the rest of the sound around her, focusing on the soft thrum of his heart against her palm, and letting lull her into a light rest.

|

taglist

@literallyprentissstwin @jennferjareau @rottendaisies @yes-this-is-doggo @gabriellewritermua 

[ratwrites]

Imagine: Changing Thorin’s Ending P.2

Masterlist.

If you’d like to be added to the forever taglist or a specific character’s taglist please feel free to let me know!

Warnings: None

Pairing: Thorin Oakenshield X Reader

Word Count:  2,040

A/N: One of my readers wanted a part 2 so here it is! I actually wasn’t gonna do a part 2, but why not ^^ I actually wrote this while I was on school. I wrote it on paper and now I am transferring it to Tumblr!

Ever since I had returned to my world I had been searching for a way to return to Middle Earth. This place was hell and it was an even worse hell now that I had been separated from Thorin.

I walked through town one hand running the Durin  bead through my fingers. My headphones blasted music drowning out the unwanted world around me.. My thoughts were locked on Thorin, and what could be going on after I left... died... I flinched as someone rammed into me almost knocking me from my feet. One of my headphones fell out. “Hey watch where you’re going!” a man snapped. “Sorry,” I murmured. I did not look at the stranger as I began to put my headphone back in and keep walking. A hand grabbed my wrist causing me to freeze. I looked at the stranger with a glare. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude,” he started. I pulled my wrist from his fingers. “I’m Derek,” he smiled, holding out his hand so that I could shake it if I wished. I examined the stranger. He was a decent looking fellow who stood a good foot or so above me. His sandy hair was cut neatly against his skull and his crystal eyes seemed to sparkle even though there was no sun to trigger it. “And I’m not interested,” I replied, sharply. Derek frowned. “Come on now don’t be so coy! Can I at least get your name?” he pouted. “No,” I replied. The frown on his face grew. “Awe come on now darling, why not?” he cooed, taking a step closer to me. I took a step back. Ever since I had returned from Erebor I kept a weapon with me at all times. It was a simple dagger that Thorin had granted me in Rivendale, yet it was the most useful thing I had ever been given. I shifted on my feet feeling the dagger shift within my winter boot. I turned my back to walk away, but a hand grabbed my upper arm pulling me back. As I turned I collided with a solid chest. I swiftly brought my hands up and hit the man in the chest pushing him backwards. I was fairly small compared to him, but he hadn’t been expecting me to fight back. “Back off,” I hissed, taking a few steps away from the stumbling body. “Why should I? A beautiful lady like yourself shouldn’t be wandering these streets alone; especially when the sun's going down,” he purred, catching himself and stalking closer. “I can handle myself just fine thank you,” I growled. I moved to leave once more but rough fingers caught my arm. Without thinking I swiftly used my free hand to snatch the dagger from my boot. I lifted myself up and with a quick movement I slashed a light cut through the skin of his fingers. He let out a yelp and let go throwing himself backwards. “Bitch!” he seethed, holding his bleeding fingers with his other hand. “Then keep your hands to yourself, creep,” I huffed. I slipped the dagger back into my boot before turning and strolling away. Calmly I placed the headphone back into my ear and continued my journey home.

~

I unlocked the door to my apartment and slipped inside closing and locking the door behind me. A sigh slipped from my parted lips as I walked into my small living area. I plopped down on the old worn couch that rested in the center of the room. I removed the dagger from my boot quickly noticing that most of the blood had been wiped off inside my boot. I groaned and removed my boots tossing them aside. I set the dagger down on the coffee table in front of me placing it neatly next to my book. I leaned back into the couch and stared blankly at the TV which rested silently against the wall. My eyes trained down to meet the cover of The Hobbit. I gently reached out and took the book into my hands making myself comfortable on the couch. I opened the book and began to read where I had left off. I had read the book six times since I had returned from Middle Earth. Each time I read it I noticed small changes that hadn’t been there before. Each change seemed to correlate with what had happened when I was present, except I wasn’t there. The note from Thorin was tucked neatly at the last page of the book. I hadn’t moved it since I had first read it. 

I paused in my reading to examine the poor thing. Before I had left to Middle Earth it had been brand new book. When  I returned it was weather worn and old looking. I hadn’t bothered to buy a new book just in case this one still tied me to Middle Earth. Considering I had received the bead and a note from Thorin, I could only assume that it still had ties to Middle Earth. I sighed and continued my reading making it through a few chapters before my eyelids began to sag. With a yawn I set the book at my side and curled up on the couch lying myself down into a comfortable position. I stared at the wall for a moment before sleep began to take me. I forced myself awake as I remembered the horrid dreams that occured when I slept. I actually hadn’t slept properly since I had returned from Middle Earth; which had been almost a year ago. I forced myself to stay awake until I could do so no longer.

Pain shot through every inch of my body. The sword slowly left my chest leaving a gaping bloody hole. My legs came out from under me, but my back never hit the ice. A short warmth flooded through me as Thorin’s arms wrapped around me. I couldn’t move my body. Thorin’s mouth opened, but no words came out. My body became weaker as my vision began to blur. “The book,” Thorin’s baritone voice sobbed. “The book...” he repeated. Everything darkened around me. I could hear voices, but I couldn’t make them out. “The eagles! Quick signal one down here!” A voice cried. A silence fell over me. “I cannot lose her!” I knew that voice. A loud crash sounded around me. “I cannot loser her...” it repeated, softly.

I woke up with a gasp as my body went erect. My hand instantly flew to my chest touching where the sword had pierced me. I lifted my shirt and examined the large scar. I didn’t know why, but I did this every time I dreamed. This time was different. I hadn’t ever heard speaking after death; I always woke up. I glanced around my dark apartment. The night had completely taken over. I stood from the couch and sluggishly walked out of the main living area and into the small kitchen. I moved to the refrigerator opening it. The light was almost blinding. I closed it quickly allowing the darkness of the apartment to take me again. I walked out of the kitchen and back to the couch. I sat down with a huff. The book slid against my thigh startling me. “The book,” Thorin’s voice rang in my ears. I scooped the book into my hands. I had forgotten about my headphones that had somehow been in my ears until this moment. I tore them from my ears and pulled my phone from my back pocket. I shook my phone until the flashlight turned on. (Using my phone Moto Z Play for this! It has that feature) I opened the book to the back page only to see the note that I had found upon my return. I shifted the book in my hand until I could skim through the pages easily. As the pages went by something caught my eye. I went back until I spotted a small piece of paper just big enough to sit on the page. It read “FOUND A WAY” My heart seemed to leap out of my chest with excitement. I took the page from the book and removed my bookmark placing it where the paper had once been. I stood up and used my phone as a light as I rushed to my bedroom scooping a pen off of my small desk. I set the paper down and wrote how on the paper. I wasn't sure if he would be able to see this, but it was worth a try. I moved back into the main living area and sat down on the couch once more. I picked up the book and slipped the paper back into the page I had found it on. Now I waited. I waited for something to change about the book, but nothing did. My eyes began to sag once more, but I forced them open. They continued to sag. A wave of exhaustion swept over me taking me by surprise. I couldn't fight it. I slipped back into sleep the book falling from my hands.

"Thorin, everyone is very concerned for you," a female voice spoke, gently. I didn't recognize it. "I cannot do this Dis. I can't do this," Thorin's baritone voice growled. "I know it is hard for you brother, but you are king. You have a responsibility," Dis scorned. It sounded as if a chair had been pushed back against a floor. "I cannot rule without her Dis. I cannot force myself to keep up this act," he snapped. My heart clenched. "I am going to find a way "

"Find a way? A way for what Thorin?" Dis asked. "I'm going to find her," he replied. "Thorin, (Name) is dead! She saved your life! You cannot bring her back from the dead!" She whimpered. "She is not of this world Dis! You saw it. Her body dissolved! It disappeared before our eyes. She is out there!" He bellowed. There was a silence. "I am going to find her,"

I woke up to a loud crash. My body went ridged as I sat up. Someone was in my home. The sun was starting to rise through the closed curtains of the appartment. It was light enough to see the outline of everything in my apartment. I quietly reached forward and grabbed the dagger from the coffee table. I gripped the handle as I stood from the couch and sneakily moved toward the sound. I'd had a break in before, and she didn't get off very easily, and neither did I. I crept around the apartment slipping behind my kitchen table as a large silloutte came into view. The intruder stood a foot or so taller than myself. This was bad, very bad. I flipped the dagger around readying it into a fighting position. Before the figure could turn to me I lunged out at it. I never struck with my dagger until they fought back. I didn't want to hurt someone who might not be an intruder. A few people had the keys to my apartment so I was always careful. My mistake was made. The large figure swung around knocking me off balance. I quickly recovered. This was an intruder. I jumped forward and slashed out the dagger only for a strong hand to grab my wrist and disarm me. I threw myself behind them taking their arm with me. Once they let go I swiftly kicked behind their left knee causing them to collapse. I learned this stunt from Dwalin. Before they could recover I snatched my dagger into my hand. I sank my fingers into their hair and pulled their head back placing the sharp dagger against their throat. "Who are you and what are you doing in my apartment," I snarled. I yelped as their hands came out and tore my legs out from under me. The knife left my hands once more. The strong intruder jumped on me straddling my waist and catching my hands against my waist. A hand rested on my collar bone pushing down so that I couldn't sit up. My heart skipped a beat as their face became clear. "Thorin?"

To be continued...

Thorin Oakenshield

@evyiione @tschrist1 @nelswp​

Forever Taglist

@elain1205 @xaviersmutcnt

[celestial-diana]

Road Rage Pt. 2

Okay, so here is the most anticipated fic of the year! Not really, but I am sorry it took me almost a whole year to finish this! I promise I will be posting more and different fandoms! SO YOUR BITCH IS BACK AND READY TO POST!

Author: celestial-writings

Word Count: 4.1k

PS: Specially thanks to my good friends @just-jordie-things and @dumbass-stilinski for helping me with this and supporting me!

Part 1

“(Y/N) can you tell us again...slower. What happened?” Melissa said calmly, clearly trying to put her own worry for her son away from your blubbering self.

“S-Stiles...h-he hit him with the j-jeep…” You let out a few more tears. “He should be okay right? He should with h-his healing right?”

“I hope sweetheart…” She smoothed back your hair and let out shaky breath. “I don't know why Stiles would do this.”

You closed off when she brought up Stiles, storing all of your rage at Stiles and putting your worry to Scott, who wasn't allowed to see anyone, not even Melissa, but she somehow got Deaton in there to check him out. She got called away by another doctor to talk about Scott so you were left alone again. Isaac, who sitting next to you took your hands and held them so they would stop shaking.

“He’s gonna be okay. I promise.” He whispered with a small smile. You nodded softly and stared at the door where he was being kept.

The sounds of footsteps echoed down the hallway and you saw Lydia, Allison, and Derek heading towards you. Allison soon ran down and hugged you closely, holding you as you tried not to break into her arms.

“Hey...how’s Scott doing?” She asked softly, brushing away tears that leaked from under your eyes.

“I don't know...he hasn't woken up…which isn't good. Deaton’s in there with him.” You whispered softly, looking down at the floor trying to hide yourself from your friends concerned

“He’s going to wake up and be just fine.” Derek put a hand on your shoulder and you gave a weak smile and nodded.

You sat back in your chair waiting as the rest of the pack talked, keeping your hands intertwined with Lydia as she rubbed calming circles into them but then the door swung open and you jumped out of your seat to see a exhausted Deaton.

“It’s seems to be more than just being hit by a car...” He looked at you solemnly, the hope you had disappearing by the second.

“Wolfsbane was found in his system. Derek, I need you to check out the Jeep with the girls, see if anything weird was modified to it. I don't think this was all Stiles’ fault.” Deaton gave a pitying look towards you.

“C-can I see him?” You asked softly, everyone looking back to see your arms wrapped around yourself to give comfort from the information given to you.

“Of course…” He nodded and you walked but you were stopped by Isaac, concern etched on his face,

“Do you want me to go in with you?” He asked softly.

“No...you guys should go home. It’s late…” They nodded looking down. Allison rubbed your shoulder and gave a reassuring smile and Lydia kissed your cheeks before heading out. You looked at Isaac to leave but he didn't, he just sat down in the chair and let out a sigh.

“A-aren’t you going home?” You looked at him nervously, not wanting to bother Isaac.

“I’m not letting you handle this alone...not with what your brother did and you don't have a ride home.” He played with his fingers and you nodded mouthing a silent ‘thank you’.

You slowly opened the door and saw Scott, just lying there wrapped in bandages, his usual perfect caramel skin covered in dark bruises that were slowly healing. You choked out some tears, trying to keep yourself calm before walking to the bedside and taking his hand and sitting in the uncomfortable sitting chair. Deaton had gotten most of the wolfsbane out of his system but still some had lingered and it was clearly affecting Scott.

It broke your heart seeing him like this. He wouldn't be like this if Stiles didn't overreact and hit him. But who would put wolfsbane on Stiles’ jeep in the first place? How would they know about it anyways? All these questions spun in your head and you were squeezing his hand quite hard because you were slightly freaking out that you didn't hear the small groan.

“Ow…” Scott’s gravely voice broke the silence and your head whipped around to see his chocolate brown eyes opening to look at your face. “I-I thought I was the one with super strength.”

You tried not to launch at him in a hug, restraining yourself by carefully wrapping your arms around him and feeling his arms slowly wrap around yours. “Thank god, you're okay...I don't know what I could of done if I lost you...I love you so much Scott. I’m so sorry. Scott I’m s-”

You were cut off by soft lips, silencing your babbling but also communicating words and feelings you couldn't describe. You pulled away, your foreheads pressed together as his fingers wiped away the tears that cascaded down your face.

“I’m okay (Y/N). I’m okay…” He whispered and you nodded, relief filling your senses.

“I don't know about that Scott...something happened. Wolfsbane got into your system and you weren't waking up...I was so scared Scott. I was so scared that you were going to think that I hated you. That I didn't love you but I love you so much…” Your voice filled with worry and regret,

“I love you too, (Y/N). I always will...” His hands held yours and his thumbs reassuringly caressed the back of your hands. “Where’s Stiles?”

You looked down and took a shaky breath. “I don't know...not that I really want to know. If he came here...I don't even know if I could look at him…”

Scott nodded, knowing that saying anything could lead to a fight or something worse. Loud shouts from Isaac came from the hall and your head shot around to see your brother, Stiles, in the doorway.

Scott immediately got up and you grabbed his arm to sit him down but he didn't listen, standing defensively at your side, his body was weak against yours but he was still intimidating. Stiles had blood on his shirt, the signs of old tears running down his face.

“Stiles?” You whispered, getting up and going forward. All your anger drained away when you saw your brother, looking broken towards you.

“(Y/N), don't!” Scott demanded, walking towards you but Stiles looked at you with those honey brown eyes and you knew what was going inside his head. He didn't do this.

“Get out of here...they are coming.” He spoke gruffly, looking back at the ground.

“Who? Who is coming?” You asked.

“The Alpha Pack, and they will kill you…”

                      “So you’re telling me that Deucalion made you hit Scott...” You looked at him confused, his eyes fixated at a tile on the ground. His eyes began tearing up and it broke your heart.

“Yes...he said I-I had to. Or he w-was gonna kill you (Y/N)! And I was so mad at you guys, so mad that you hid what you are from me.” He stuttered, sniffling as he wiped his nose with his sleeve.

“So you thought hitting me was the best option, Stiles?!” Scott was looking at him furiously, his eyes glowing golden.

“N-no! I told you I didn't do this! Please, (Y/N)... b-believe me...” His voice broke at the last words he spoke. Your eyes flickered to his and you sat Scott down.

“Stiles you need to leave…” You whispered, you were holding back tears and it blurred your vision.

“W-what?” He looked at you sadly, tears threatening to spill down his face.

“I said you need to go!” You yelled,a sob escaping your chest. Scott’s arms wrapped around your waist as your head fell on his shoulder. Stiles mouth opened to object, but he shut it quickly, seeing the look on your face. He backed away, sniffling as he slipped out the door and let it click closed behind him.

“I want to believe him Scott…but why would they want me?” You asked confused, wiping away the tears that had fallen.

“Maybe Stiles is right…they wanted Stiles to hit me...so that if I got into a long enough coma they could take you…” His thoughts lingering on what could've happened, his grip on you tightening.

“Scott...you're probably still dazed from the accident. You rest, okay?” You mumbled softly into his neck.

He opened his mouth to retaliate but closed it and nodded slightly and walked carefully back to the bed. You kissed his forehead gently, smiling softly as he closed his eyes.

“I’m just going to head to the vending machines to grab something to eat.” You headed towards the door but stopped when you heard Scott’s voice.

“You’ll be back, right?” His voice cracking slightly at the end.

“Of course Scott, it’s not like i’m going to get kidnapped or anything.” Your tone was sarcastic but the look on his face said he wasn't in the mood for it. “I’ll be careful. I promise.”

He nodded his head and closed his eyes and you slipped out of the room into the sterile hallway. You walked down the hallway, looking around, slightly paranoid, until you finally got the vending machines.

You put your money into the machine, tapping impatiently for it to take it. You then heard a sound behind you, like a crash from one of the rooms.

You turned your head to see the twins behind you, your breathing hitched and your thoughts started to swim. You pressed a number on your phone, hoping you hit the one with Stiles on speed dial and that he would pick up. You then tried to make a run for it but claws grabbed your arms and you let out a scream as they cut through your shirt and left drops of blood on the floor.

“SCOTT! ISAAC! HELP-” You were cut off by a hand clamping down on your mouth and dragged out of the hospital. You heard sounds of running but You heard the sounds of running behind you, but before you knew it you were blindfolded and bound by your wrists, thrown into a car that was already speeding away. You were terrified, praying silently that Stiles had gotten your call, or that the boys had heard you scream. Stiles was right, you should have listened to him. You should of trusted that your brother would never hurt you unless he was forced to. That wasn't Stiles. Scott also entered your mind, you’d just gotten him back and now you were in a car? Van? Truck? And you were scared that maybe you would never see him again.

(Tumblr Separator)

Isaac skidded around the corner to the place where he's heard your scream come from, Scott right on his heels, bleeding from his arm where he'd ripped out his IV. They looked around to see you were gone, but your scent lingered, mixed with the smell of Aiden and Ethan.

“They took her.” Scott’s voice shook as Isaac looked at him rage brewing behind his blue-green eyes.

“I’ll track her scent. She can’t be far-” Isaac was interrupted by his phone going off. He quickly answered the call, seeing Stiles’ face flashing on the screen.

“Isaac! It’s (Y/N), she got taken by-” Stiles’ nervous voice screamed through the receiver.

“Yeah I know. I heard her scream and I ran to her but she was already gone.”

“I know. I heard. She called me.” He rushed.

“Wait did you talk to her?” Scott added, listening to the conversation.

“No. She must of pressed my speed dial button but she’s in some sort of warehouse on the north side...please get there soon. I got my dad on the case but I know you guys can find her quicker. Scott, find her please and when you do tell her I love her. That I’m sorry.” He trailed off, a hint of finality in his voice.

“Stiles what are you say-” Scott questioned but was cut off.

“I have to go, Dad may have found something. I’ll talk to you guys later.” He rushed, hanging up abruptly.

“Let’s go, Scott.” Isaac grabbed his arm and tugged at him but he stood his ground..

“She said she would come back, she promised.” Scott looked around the hallway and saw drops of blood on the floor. “Blood. It’s hers, Isaac…”

“Hey. We are going to find her safe. Just let me track it, okay?” He knew the scent of blood was easier to find with their werewolf senses.

“Got a lock on it?” He asked, worried and Isaac nodded. “Call Derek and the pack, we’ll need them.”

You were dragged out of the vehicle onto hard concrete,  the sound of birds, a strong gust of wind, and shouts from a distance filled your ears as you were being dragged towards where you assumed the alphas were waiting.

“I told you unharmed, we need her as bait.” A thickly accented voice filled the air, which you assumed belonged to the famed Deucalion.

“She didn’t come easily...they heard us and I’m sure they are coming after her.” One of the twins answered pulling off the blindfold that had placed over your eyes. The man in front of you let out a scoff, but straightened up as the woman behind him checked her nails.

“Hello (Y/N), nice to finally meet you. It’s so sad we have to cut this little chat short.” Deucalion flashed a smile and bent down to your level.

“It will only be short for you, My pack will save me. I know it.” You spat out, struggling against the twins that were holding you, but the grip that they had on your arms grew tighter.

“Ahh, I remember a time when I trusted my friends...my pack...and when I killed them. Like I’m going to do to your friends and that twin brother of yours. Then Scott will join my pack after we frame someone for your deaths and wallah! We will have a true alpha on our hands for our bidding.” He stood up and took some steps away from you and smirked. You couldn't believe he would think that Scott would ever help him, your stomach churning at the thought.

“Scott would never would go with you.” You spat out towards the alpha.

“He will when his little girlfriend is dead and I blame your brother.”

“Scott will never believe that, you sick bastard!” You screamed at him, trying to lunge at him but you were pulled back and growled at by the twins.

“I got your brother to hit the boy you love with a car, didn’t I? I sure as hell I can frame him.” He let out an annoyingly overconfident laugh.The loud roar of an engine ripped through the woods, Roscoe appearing through the closed off road you'd come down earlier.The Alphas got ready to attack as Stiles parked the car.

Stiles found me! He got my phone call and heard everything behind me! Maybe he has the pack with him to fight off these annoying alphas and to fucking save me.

Stiles hopped out of the jeep with his hands up, quickly saying nobody was with him and he just wanted to talk. The hope you had still lingered, but you let go of the breath you were holding. Stiles looked over at you and gave you a fearful look and swallowed away his anxiety.

“Should we trust him?” The woman you assumed was Kali asked, walking toward Stiles. You stared at her long taloned feet with awe.

“We should see what he wants to say, clearly he doesn’t want to attack us yet.” Deucalion walked towards Stiles with the assistance of another woman you didn’t recognize before, until she walked into the beam of the headlights. It was the guidance counselor Stiles went to see when Matt and the crazy Jackson kanima shit was happening.

“Please just listen to me, take me instead of her. She is harmless...I did everything you told me too. J-Just don’t hurt her...please.” Stiles pleaded with the man and tried not to look at you as you were pleading for him to leave.

“Stiles stop! No! Take me! Don't listen to him. Stiles get out of here!” You yelled towards him, hoping he would just listen and go back to the jeep, but sadly you knew your brother would never do that if he was in your situation. You would trade your life in a heartbeat if it meant your brother���s life.

“I don’t think I can just take your deal, Stiles.” Deucalion’s voice held a lingering hint of pity.

Deucalion nodded his head and before you could scream for him to run, Stiles was ambushed. Kali punched him in the jaw, where he reacted by falling to the ground with a loud groan. One of the twins let go of your arm to help Kali drag Stiles’ half-conscious body next to yours. Your body started to shake as sobs escaped from your chest and you tried to not let the realization set in that nobody was going to save you.

At that moment, flash arrows fired next to the alphas, making them all deflect away from the light, struggling to see the attackers that had just intruded. A loud growl ripped through the air, and out of the shadows came running three human-like figures with glowing eyes. As they came closer you could make out their faces, a sigh of relief escaping you when you saw it was Isaac, Scott, and Derek.

Isaac caught you eyes and bolted to you but the twins let go of their hold on your arms and merged together into the mutated mega wolf.

“Isaac! Don't!” You screamed but Stiles limply grabbed your wrist to calm your warning. An arrow whizzed passed Isaac and lodged itself into the throat of the twins. You heard grunts from behind you and saw Derek and Scott dodging attacks from Kali. Your heart beat out of your chest when you saw Scott, moments before thinking that you would never see the boy you loved again.

“Scott!” You yelled, your eyes wide as your boyfriend ran towards you, you hand gripping onto your brothers arm. Scott was stopped in his tracks when Deucalion stepped in front of him, his focus shifting to the alpha in his way. Isaac lunged at the twins, his claws out and teeth barred, only to be swatted aside by the abnormally large creature, it's feet planted firmly in front of you. Your eyes swept across the clearing, spotting Allison hidden within the treeline, her face calm as she reached behind her and pulled another arrow from her quiver.

Stiles groaned beside you, sitting up and holding his face in his hand. “Where’s Ms. Morell?”

“I don't-”

Allison screamed from the forest, the sound ringing out over the clearing. You felt helpless as you watched your friends fighting, your gaze landing on Derek as he fought Kali, her foot flying up and kicking him in the side of the head. Hot tears ran down your cheeks when you saw him fall to the ground, as Allison was pushed out from the trees with Morell on her heels. The twins swatted Isaac to the side, a sickening crunch filling your ears as he skidded away from you. Stiles was up and pulling you to your feet, his arm wrapped around your middle as he tried to drag you away from the chaos.

“Stiles wait, we can’t-”

“It’s you they want, don’t you understand? If we stay-”

“I’m not leaving Scott.” You dug your heels in, standing firm. “We can’t leave them.”

He sighed, his shoulders slumping in defeat. “We can’t help them, even if we tried.” His head snapped up and his eyes widened, and followed his line of sight, watching as the fused twins stalked towards your boyfriend, taking over from the beating that Deucalion was delivering to him.

The blind alpha turned suddenly, his eyes glowing red as he stalked towards the two of you, hands and claws extended. “You’re coming with me.”

“I won’t let you!” You yelled and threw your fist towards the alpha, his claws grabbing your wrist right before it collided with his jaw. His cane came up and swiped your cheek and the force knocked you back down to the ground.

Stiles eyes darkened as he had the overwhelming sense  to protect his twin sister, his baby sister. He balled up his fists and tried to use the element of surprise but the little technicality of Deucalion being the ultra-heightened blind alpha werewolf stood in his way. The alpha simply grabbed Stiles wrist and snapped it, which made Stiles cry out in pain and fall to his knees.

“Stiles!” You and Scott both yelled out as he whimpered from the snapped wrist, then a fist collided right into Stiles’ jaw and knocked him out cold, his head slamming down onto the hard forest floor. Scott growled and ran towards the Stilinski twins but the Alpha twins bit down on his shoulder to stop him. Scott let out a strangled noise that broke your heart, that the love of your life was going to be manipulated, broken down, and damaged. You couldn't let that happen.

“(Y/N)! Run!” Scott’s voice reached out to you. You tried to find him but you were yanked back by your hair and pulled right next to your captor’s side again.

The sound of a fist hitting Scott’s already bruised cheek filled the air, and mixed with the growls, grunts, and yelps of pain created an overture for your death. You were dragged away deeper into the woods with Stiles dragged right behind you. You gave up yelling because you knew nobody was coming to save you. Deucalion had set you up both on your knees, Stiles more slumped on the ground and using all of his energy to keep you away from Deucalion and his red eyes bore into yours. A large hand wrapped around your throat and pulled you to your feet as claws dug into your soft skin.

“I’m sorry it had to come to this but these are the hard sacrifices you have to take to survive in this world.” His expression was sincere but you didn’t care for the shitty excuse to murder, but the reality had finally set in. You were going to die, Stiles was going to die and you had no way to stop it. You would never have another secret night with Scott again. You wouldn't have another chance to tell him how much you love him. You wouldn't be able to kiss the living daylights out of him when he wins a game. Tears slipped down your cheeks as the claws pierced into your skin, taking away your breath and dark spots covering your vision.

“Any last words?” He asked but knew there would be no answer.

“Not from my kids, you son of a bitch.” A silver bat came swinging at the back of Deucalion’s head and knocked him out instantly from the force. The grip on your throat disappeared and you instantly gasped for air and dropped to ground. You heard the bat drop and warm arms wrap around your waist and the scent of Woodworker’s Musk your father put on every morning engulf you. The feel of the thick sheriff’s jacket he always wore for the night shift was rubbing against your face and you have never felt so safe in your life.

“D-Dad…” You mumbled numbly as he held you tightly in his arms. “Am I dead?”

“Not on my watch, sweetheart.” You let out a choked sob and clutched onto your father as he moved you over slightly so he could grab Stiles under his arms and hold  him too. “I’m not losing you guys too..”

“How did you get here?” You asked, confused how he even found you and stole Stiles’ baseball bat.

“I had some help from the Argent’s...Who may or may not be kicking some werewolf ass right now.” He chuckled slightly.

The sound of frantic footsteps rang into your ear and you turned to see a battered Scott, staring at you with his eyes wide, relief flooding his features when they met yours. Sheriff Stilinski’s arms loosened around your waist and you looked at him and he nodded with a soft smile. You got up weakly and rushed over to Scott who had his arms already outstretched, ready for your embrace.

He kissed you passionately, blood from his nose gushing onto your skin, but you didn’t care. You were safe with him, and he was safe with you.

“I will never let anything bad happen to you.” Scott whispered.

You nodded but then another pair or arms wrapped around you and your boyfriend.

“You guys are so cute..” Stiles chuckled.

“Let’s go home and have a movie night.”

“Your a lovesick puppy…” You pushed his shoulder.

“Let’s go home guys.” Scott wrapped his arms around his favorite people and headed towards his pack.

[tweenw]

Claw Marks-(Derek Hale)

Characters: Scott McCall, Kali, Erica Reyes, Derek Hale and (Y/N)

Pairing: none, hint at Derek Hale x Reader

Warnings: Swearing and mentions of Erica’s death

Word Count: 1964

Summary: A month after Erica’s death, Derek offers the bite to her best friend, (Y/N).

Day 23, and I still find it hard to leave my room to go have a shower unless I get forced by my mother. It’s been 23 days and I still have dreams with her, whether it be the first day in kindergarten when I met first met her, or when she miraculously started getting better from her epilepsy. But by far the worst are the nightmares in which she dies. You could say that my best friends death has effected me pretty bad, rendering me practically useless. 

I run my hand through my now-dry hair as I look at photos of Erica and I from the week before her body showed up. It’s us at Starbucks, both smiling at the camera. She’s holding her pumpkin spice latte and I’m holding my hot chocolate. Looking at the photo daily has made me immune to the tears that used to come. Now I just stare at it blankly. 

There’s a knock of my window which makes me jump out of my skin and almost makes me scream. I look behind me to see a man standing outside of my window, a grim look on his face. 

I slowly stand up from my bed and walk towards the window where he’s standing. In any other situation, I would not open the window for a strange man that’s trying to get in, but I know this guy. Erica used to hang out with him a lot. I think his name’s Derek?

I slide the window open and walk back a little so he can climb in. He looks a little awkward, he’s totally out of place right now, with his boots and leather jacket in a baby-blue room with some posters up and about. 

“What are you doing here?” I ask, the first question of many to come. Why’s he here? What does he want? How well did he know Erica? Was he even at her funeral?

Derek shifts awkwardly so I just point to the window seat and the two of us sit down. He looks uneasy, like he’s ready to fight or flight. 

“I’m Derek. I’m here because there were some things you didn’t know about Erica that maybe you should.Things she’d want you to know, (Y/N).” He says, causing a chill to run up my spine involuntarily. What could he possibly tell me about my best friend that I don’t already know? I raise my eyebrows, silently telling him to go on. Whatever it is he has to say, I probably already know. It’s not like Erica and I had secrets between each other.

Derek stands up and takes his leather jacket off, placing it next to me. He then kicks off his boots and begins to take his shirt off. I quickly jump up and turn around to shut the curtains so nobody will see. Is he insane? What is he doing?

“Are your parents home?” He asks as he stops at his belt buckle. Rationally, I should be scared. Some random guy who knew Erica is stripping in front of me and asking me if my parents are home. And yeah, maybe red alarms should be going off inside my mind, but something tells me that he won’t hurt me.

I hesitantly nod but I don’t sit back down. His intention may not be to hurt me, but my fight or flight senses are razor sharp. 

Hesitantly, he pulls his jeans down and kicks them aside. Weird and possibly threatening situation aside, he’s quite attractive. He’s got the whole package, attractive face and a body to die for. And he doesn’t seem to be a cunt either, so there’s that.

“You might want to step back.” He whispers, and the desolate tone of his voice makes me oblige. 

The next minute is a blur that when I later look back at, makes me weak at the knees and wonder how I didn’t pass out when I seen it. His limbs tangle as they impossibly merge together, the sound of bones snapping and cracking fills the silent room. Ears are no longer human ears, hands are no longer human hands, Derek is no longer Derek. The snapping of bones ceases, and in front of me stands a black dog. No, a black wolf with bright blue eyes. 

Shakily, I take a step towards the wolf that was Derek mere minutes ago and reach out to touch him, to see if he’s real, to cease my terrifying thoughts. Is this real? Are the anti-depressants making me hallucinate the wolf in front of me? The whole ordeal with Derek? Am I asleep or awake?

But those thoughts all disappear as soon as my skin makes contact with the wolves fur. It’s soft, sort of like a German Sheppard's. The wolf, or Derek, looks up at me with curious eyes, probably mimicking me. Is this what Erica was hiding? A whole new world invisible to the naked eye? Was she like Derek? Could she turn? What even is Derek?

I drop down to my knees and gently run my hand across the wolves face, scratching it’s ear and marvelling at it’s beauty. The eyes look burdened, like they’ve seen things they’re not proud of. They’re so bright, so beautiful. My other hand comes up to pet the wolf too, and for a brief moment, it’s like the rest of the world doesn’t exist. Like the last month hasn’t happened. It’s just the wolf and I, and nothing else matters. 

Of course, I snap back into reality when the wolf in front of me starts to grown and shake and snap. I let my hands drop but don’t move away. This time there isn’t any bone snapping or crunching, there’s just suddenly a naked Derek. 

My body reacts quick as I dive for the jacket he took off beforehand and pass it to him without looking. My hand shakes slightly, there’s never been a naked guy in my room so I don’t really know what to do. I stay facing away from him until I hear the zip of his jeans go up. I turn around once again but take a seat on the ground. If I kept standing I’m pretty sure my knees would give away. 

So this is what Erica was hiding. Was she one of them, or did she just know about them? What exactly is ‘them’? Werewolves? My head pounds. I notice the claw marks on the floor that Derek left behind. 

“I know this is a lot to take in, but I’m here to answer any questions you have. And I also have a proposal.” Derek says and sits down in front of me, legs crossed and a look of understanding on his face. 

I rub my eyes for a second, trying to make sense of what just happened. Derek is not human, he’s a werewolf. And so was Erica, I’m pretty sure. Is the entire group that hangs out with Scott McCall involved with this? Are they like Derek? Can they all change into a full wolf?

“Okay, fuck. I don’t even know where to start.” I laugh humorlessly and look back up at Derek, who seems more comfortable that when he came in. Probably something to do with the fact that I seen him shape shift into a fucking wolf.

He just stays quiet, obviously knowing that I’m a little bit overwhelmed. 

“Right. So was Erica like you? Could she.. Could she do that too?” I ask, my voice catching a little. Speaking about her hurts. Speaking about her in past tense hurts even more.

“Not exactly. She couldn’t shift fully like I just did. But she could still get halfway.” Derek says. I just nod and take the information in. 

“So is the silver and full moon all bullshit?” I manage a small smile at which Derek chuckles, a soft and melodic sound, which somehow puts me at ease. It’s like as long as he’s here, I have nothing to worry about. I wish we’d meet under different circumstances.

“Yes, the wonders Hollywood does to get money. The only moon that effects us is the Lunar Eclipse, when we’re powerless. But other than that, yeah its bullshit.”

A hundred other quiestions prod at my mind, begging to be asked and answered. And as much as I want to bombard the man in front of me with all of these questions, they can wait. 

“What is the proposal?” I ask, brows furrowing. I’ve seen enough terrible teen movies to know that it can’t be anything good. 

Derek looks around my room until he spots a photo of Erica and I on my bedside desk. It’s from a few months ago when we were at the cinema to see her favourite movie. Derek stands up and walks to pick the frame up. He studies the photo for a few seconds before a light smile appears on his face and he sets the photo back down. 

“Erica didn’t die from a bear attack. It was an Alpha pack that killed her. Kali, to be more specific. Do you want to know why she wanted the bite? To be like me?” Derek slowly paces around my room, hands in his jacket pocket as his eyes roam the walls. 

I feel my throat tighten a little at the new information. Somehow, that makes me feel worse. More mad, more angered that someone did that to her. The flame in my stomach grows. 

When I don’t answer, Derek turns around to look at me. His expression in unreadable. 

“She was tired of being defenceless, of not being able to fight for herself and protect those around her. She was tired of being the, how did she put it, ‘epileptic fat bitch with a target on her back’. I gave her the choice of the bite. She could take it, but there would be a 50% chance she might die. Or she could continue her life the way it is. She chose the first.”

The flame in the pit of my stomach burns brighter, more intensely. The feeling of hatred and disgust floods my mouth, bitter, acidic. I want to call him out on lying, of course Erica wouldn’t say that about herself. But I know she would, without hesitation. The Erica I knew, even before her epilepsy suddenly disappeared, was consumed with self-hatred and anger. She would take the opportunity. 

“I’m here to offer you the bite. You’d become my beta, would train with me and you could help me avenge her death by killing Kali. You’d be stronger, faster and your sight and hearing would improve. There’s other perks too. Of course, there’s still a chance you might not make it. Or you could refuse and stay living the way you live now.” Derek takes a seat in front of me once again, eyes scanning me, awaiting my reaction. 

I could kill the monster who killed Erica. I could finally feel at peace, I could become a better version of myself. I could immerse myself in this new world and forget about this old, boring and washed out one. The fire burns, brighter and louder as it climbs up my body. 

Slowly, I hold out my hand. Derek takes it gently and brings it up to his mouth. 

“Are you sure? There’s no going back after I do this.” He asks, his voice soft, almost comforting. It soothes me. 

I nod my head and close my eyes, awaiting the bite that will change my entire life, hopefully for the better. As his teeth sink into my forearm, the fire engulfs me and a scream erupts from deep within. The noises around me cease, the cars on the street are no longer there, the buzzing of the light bulb ceases to exist, and so does the old (Y/N) (Y/L/N). 

Taglist:

@superhero-lover101  @jannalionheart

[scilessecretsanta]

Cowardly Confessions

Sciles Secret Santa gift for @static-abyss form @druidandwolfboy!

Cowardly Confessions

Stiles and Scott look up from the set of bags in the back of the jeep and at each other. Once the initial craziness of being back in existence started to subside looking at Scott was a whole new kind of strange. But now that school was over and these new challenges; “real world,” college, and impending adulthood was just on the other side of this last trip in Roscoe.

“Ok i get to drive to the airport but then after that he’s all yours … ” Stiles tenderly shut the back of the jeep and gave it a gentle pat.

“I still can’t believe you aren’t taking him with you … you love this thing more than … , i mean it helped … ”

There was a pause, there was always a pause when conversations veered too close to their last adventure with the paranormal. Things had seemed to settle into some final calm after the Wild Hunt took that crazy Nazi werewolf with them to … honestly who cares. The district took over the school finally and instituted some FBI assisted vetting measures, meanwhile unbenounced to most of the citizens, Deaton and a returned Derek and Braeden put a very concrete end to the Nemeton’s nonsense; and more publicly built a new very modern looking Hale mansion. Honestly the last semester of school passed in a quick blur of refreshing dullness as they got further and further away from the paranormal.

But now this pause, this pause had a new weight, it was Stiles last chance to fill in one of the pause that lingered from before … before everything

—

He blew it … of course he blew it …

But at least he had a back up plan, well more of a failsafe  … a coward’s last defense

Scott finally pulls his head up from the steering wheel of the jeep, the drive back from the airport wasn’t that long and ended at least an hour ago. The tears mostly ended about 15 minutes ago, but now the rest of his body was starting to assert it’s needs. At the very least a need to move into a more comfortable position to sulk in. he slumped back into the seat, he sagged away from the window and settled into a comfortable half sprawl across the bench seat of the jeep. From here he could also reach for the glove box, there was sure to be some kind of junk food in there!

There wasn’t, but there was a roll of duct tape and a letter.

Scotty,

If you are reading this i blew my last chance to tell you this face to face …

Look i know i’m not great at not being a sarcastic idiot about my feelings, and, well other people’s feelings. Add in the fact that the last time i tried to tell you this i disappeared from existence for a while … but now it’s very much “later” so it’s time to tell you …

I love you, i mean i know i tell you all the time, but this time, that time, all of the timei mean in the like Love you (notice the capital letter!) way …

So yea, that’s the thing i needed to tell you … the thing i spent most of that time in a magical train station having to work with Peter thinking about. God it was like my own personal hell. Trapped in my own head kicking myself for the latest in a long line of hiding how i actually feel about you, about everything, behind layers of attitude and sarcasm. And then the only person i find in that stupid place to help me is like the living embodiment of pointless sarcasm …

Then it was another clusterfuck of running around in the the dark saving a town that barely noticed us (thankfully honestly), and … and … and you never asked what i was going to tell you so i just … wet back to my human cowardly ways till it was too late. It was the last day of school and i still hadn’t told you.

And now here it is, we are meeting in like 3 hours to drive me to the airport. I have one last chance to tell you this before i fly across the country for school i’m not even excited about. And i’m so sure i’m going to blow it again i’m writing this …

Yes i Love you, i mean i’ve Loved you … forever it feels like. Maybe that’s why it’s so hard to tell you, it had been there so long that i didn’t realize how important it was till it was gone. Thanks to Theo and and that colossal cluster fuck of poor communication and supernatural assisted blundering we … broke up … ? Or whatever, and of course we fixed it … but i got so scared that i would just ruin us again, that i decided to tear up the Plan and get myself as far away from you and the rest of the people i loved that i kept hurting.

So really what i was going to say before “tell me later?” was this

“Scotty, i Love you, like 100% Love you but i’m a total disaster, even when i’m not possessed by a demon i’m still a raging asshole to you, to me, and everyone around us like 90% of the time, so i’m ditching the “let’s go to Davis together” plan and i’m gonna go to Georgetown in DC and try and figure out how to be a good person that actually deserves you.”

So that’s that, and that’s why i’m leaving you Roscoe, i’ve owned thia guy for years and i’ve never even learned how to actually take care of him. I just throw duct tape and attitude at it and he still works for me. he deserves better and i know you’ll take good care of him because you’ve always taken good care of me. You and your mom are better people than Beacon Hills deserve and i hope Davis know’s what it’s getting.

Love, love and i’m sorry

-Stiles-

——

Stiles,

I’m sorry this took so long to write. But this was important so i made sure to give it time. I’m sorry that meant leaving you hanging on your confession. To save you any more finger biting and nervous twitching i’ll start with this

I Love you too … capital letter and all …

And you aren’t a coward, or at least not anymore than i am, I maybe didn’t realize how strongly i felt till i felt it in others, there were days when i was with Alison that i couldn’t stop thinking about how it felt like i was cheating on you. But i was afraid to test you, i was afraid that if i popped the bubble of your fun jokes and telling me i’m the hot girl and … well i was afraid that if i asked the question then the whole thing would fall apart, so i never did.

And if you think your side of the Wild Hunt was bad … from the day you disappeared i had this ache, it took days before i started to figure out what it was … but when we realized what happened i knew why it felt so bad. We stood in the woods, all three of us and realized at the same time we missed some one we Loved, but at least they could say it out loud. I stayed behind in the woods and cried for an hour as these little shards of memory of you and what you meant to me started pouring back into my head.

I was so happy when it was all over, to just go back to the status quo, that i didn’t want to remind you of that day you disappeared, didn’t want to remind you that the last thing that happened to you before you vanished was your best friend blowing you off … and now that i know what you were going to tell me i feel like the coward. You knew something was coming and you tried to tell me not just something important but something that could have helped me find you, when i think about it i can see the feelings in your eyes, i can smell the scents i missed, i can see what i missed. I should have been able to sense how you were feeling and known it was more important than a “tell me later.”

So if you feel like you need to be sorry so do i.

Look neither of us are perfect, we are, as someone once told me “only human” i Loved you when the Demon controlling you had a sword in my chest, i loved you all through the Theo bullshit, and i will Love you through whatever nonsense you, me, or a demonic stump in the woods throws at us.

-Scotty-

PS: as far as Roscoe goes … he knows you love him too, and actually he’s been helping me reconnect with Derek, he’s much more sensible now that Bradeene is testing him for fatherhood-readiness. We’ve been slowly sorting out the duct tape nest that is the engine and he taught me how to paint it so he’s looking fresh. Derek doesn’t say hi, but he did make a slightly less angry rock face when i told him about … our new capital letter …

PPS: oh and Davis was actually ready for me, turns out they have a little “paranormal club” of their own. One of the professors knows Deaton and he warned them they were about to get a True Alpha … they threw me a welcome party!

—

Scotty!

Awesome! So much awesome!

I’ll cop to being a bit of a brat and making you wait to get this before i call you but if my timing is right and my connections to local government as strong as i think they are i should be calling you about an hour after you get this. (remind me to thank your Mail Carrier Donna … )

We are both dumb idiot cowards! But considering what we went through to get here i’m just gonna say we were saving all our heroics to keep from … you know … dying(and worse!). maybe this is our reward for putting up with all that, and if that’s what it took to get to here i’m ok with that (… well no i will forever bitch about many parts of all of that bullshit.)

As much as things already feel different beyond just the lack of impending doom and being apart from you (and Roscoe!) for so long, and finally for non-magic reasons! i know things will change after this phone call. Now when i say i love you in the middle of a fight about anything from Mario Kart to monster bat demons i’ll know you understand what i mean, that you’ve always understood what i meant. Even better now i know that in those times when i want our hugs to go further, our sleep overs to get a lot more … adult-y that i can make that happen. All i need to do is use my words and just tell you.

Ok i don’t want to drag this out too long, you’ve got a phone call to get ready for … and so do I. i’ll be home for thanksgiving in a few weeks, and then winter break! I can’t wait to actually see you in person again!

Love !

-S-

PS: you let Derek near my Roscoe!!! Kidding, the way that dude loves his Camaro i trust him with the engine of my poor chariot. I can’t wait to see what he looks like! I miss him so much, Georgetown is actually working out well (see below) but i think i need my Roscoe back … January road trip to DC you me and the sexiest Jeep in history?

PPS: thanks for asking your new friends about DC, there is a little “pack” at our school too. No actual wolves but there are a few druids, two warebears (one of whom is basically a bear even when he’s not shifted), and of course some witches, they are excited to have their first “human” though i think i’m going to study with the druids, finally, i wish i’d learned more from Deaton when i had the chance!

PPPS: so i’m just gonna throw this out here now because i know that if i try and say anything about it on the phone later it’s just gonna be silence and crazy sounding giggles. But in addition to the capital letter we are adding on to things … i’m very excited about the more um, intimate developments so for the record i have been looking forward to having non imaginary sex with you. And yes … yes i’ve had A LOT of imaginary sex with you … which we should talk about … because if you thought i was a brat before … well lets just say that at least 50% of the imaginary times involve me getting a spanking for something … there now you have a sure fire way to get me to blush and shut up on the phone in … maybe 20 minutes?

—

Stiles,

If i’ve timed this right … kidding, i know i stuck it in the textbook you said you needed to read on your flight so unless you skipped doing your homework …

It took us a long time to get here … and i think we are better for some of the stops we took along the way to get here, i know Malia and Lydia are happy for us and i’m sure Alison would have been too (Isaac just laughed and then tried not to look a little jealous when we Skyped). And i’m glad Georgetown is working out, i Love you but sometimes you can plan too hard and forget that not everything needs to be a puzzle. If anything i think this is a good way for us to start this new stage of our relationship. We both have lots of studying to do in both the real world and the magical one and i’m sure if we were closer we would get … distracted.

I don’t know what’s next for either of us, and that’s kind of been the most freeing part of the last few months. Ever since that night i followed you into the woods our lives have been determined mostly by other people, now it feels like the two of us are onto something new and are for the first time in control of where we are going, or at least learning how to be. I’m really looking forward to our road trip (and not just for various assorted … sexy reasons) i’ve been making lists of packs and druids to meet along the way, and yes i got the invites to the 14 spreadsheets of other university magic and supernatural clubs, UFO sightings, national parks, “mystery spots,” and a few other i’m just not gonna look at (and you used to call me the nerdy one!).

After years stuck in a small town that seemed like it just wanted to kill me i don’t even know how to really process what my life is right now, thank you for being there for me, keeping me human when i needed to be, and reminding me how strong i can be … and for using up all your bravery running face first into danger with me even if it mean you didn’t have any left to tell me what we both should have known anyway …

-Scott-

PS: Derek says Roscoe should be ready for a January road trip … he says he needs to teach you a few things before he’ll trust you to drive it again. But don’t worry he knows that whatever happens we are going on our road trip … all i really have to do is start telling him what we’re gonna get up to in those roadside motels and he gets all grossed out and walks away.

PPS: yea i feel like if we’d ever had a moment of rest in High School we could have made for a really well organized pack, we just kept learching from one disaster to the next so we only really got to learn what we had to and not any of the other things that might have come in handy. Or any of the fun perks of living in this alternate reality.

PPPS: oh Stiles, you should hopefully be more directly aware of this by now … but i too have had lots and lots of imaginary sex with you, and yes the paddle has come out a few times, though i’ve got a few surprise accessories of my own. Oh and i’ve already been scouting out some good roadside motels for our trip … maybe for Christmas i’ll get us some of our own non imaginary toys to keep us entertained in those cheap motels …

-The End-