#Peter Hale Request

[andreafmn]

Ours | Derek Hale Oneshot

Word Count: 3.5K Requested by @gracelynn318: "Derek or Stiles finding out that their significant other (the reader) is pregnant and they try to keep it secret for as long as possible" Warnings: pregnancy, pregnancy symptoms (vomiting, nausea, fatigue)

Summary: Derek Hale and (Y/N) have been together for a long time, and they didn't know something was missing from their lives until it arrived unexpectedly. And all they want to do is revel in the moment for as long as they can, by themselves.

A/N: this story follows 0% of canon, just the character's names. will admit. I am a horrible Teen Wolf fan that has yet to see season 5 and 6, and I've also yet to watch the movie. So, definitely an AU 😬also, be on the lookout for tonight or tomorrow for another surprise regarding this request 😉😉

Derek had noticed the change long before (Y/N) had. Long before she knew why she spent her days expelling her meals down the toilet drain, before she understood why her body craved more food than she could keep down, before she had even noticed that a month had passed and her period had not arrived. 

It came late at night. The soft putter of a heartbeat that felt so far that it could have been confused with the sound of rain against the pavement. They had been lying in bed, the exhaustion of living in Beacon Hills the only thing they needed to crash at night. But the sound had been bothering Derek. The continuous rhythm didn’t allow the wolf to lose himself in much-needed slumber. The sound kept him up, especially from where it was coming from. 

“(Y/N),” he whispered, running his hand up and down her arm to wake her. “(Y/N), baby, wake up.” 

“Mm,” she groaned groggily, cuddling to his body tightly. “Go to sleep, Derek.” 

 “(Y/N), I gotta ask you something. Wake up.” 

“We can talk in the morning,” she whined. “I’m tired right now.” 

“It’s important,” he chuckled softly. “I need your complete focus.” 

With a loud exhale, (Y/N) sat up in bed, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. The sheet fell from her torso, and the coldness of the night made her skin erupt in goosebumps. She rarely got angry with Derek, but she was coming quite close at that very moment. “You better have a good reason to wake me, Der,” she said. “I’m so tired I might just put off killing you until tomorrow.” 

“Listen, please,” he said. “When was the last time you got your period?” 

“What?” the girl questioned. “You seriously just woke me up to ask about my cycle?” 

“More or less. Just answer. Did you get it last month?” 

It took her a moment to think. The grogginess of being woken up still clutched her mind, and recounting the past weeks was hard. But her body startled awake as she realized she had not gotten her shark week in a month and a half. That fact alone did not scare her. She had always been irregular, and in moments of stress, it was more likely than not that she skipped a cycle. The problem was that not only had she missed a period, she had been feeling sick for the past three weeks. And the math was not too hard to do. 

“I-I didn’t,” she stammered. “W-why are you asking?”

“Oh my god,” he answered. “Oh my god!” 

“What? What’s wrong?” 

Instead of answering, Derek pressed his ear to her stomach until he could hear the sound clearly. Alongside (Y/N)’s quickening heartbeat, a quieter, steady pattern joined. It was too indistinguishable now. “You’re pregnant,” he said. So quiet he wasn’t sure if he had said it at all. “There’s a baby in there. Our baby.” 

“Pregnant…” (Y/N) could not believe the word even as it rolled out of her tongue. “I can’t believe it.” 

“We’ll go to Deaton tomorrow, but I’m certain. I can hear their heart beating in there.” 

(Y/N)’s mind was reeling. Pregnant, she thought to herself. The word felt foreign. So did her body. Derek had noticed the change before her. How could she not have known that a life was growing inside her? How could she ever be a mother when she did not even know herself?  

Without realizing it, tears fell down her cheeks. She felt weak and panicked. The strong woman that had faced the biggest dangers and far scarier monsters trembled with the thought of a life depending on her for survival. It was one thing to volunteer to protect the members of the pack. They were old enough to fend for themselves. It was another to be responsible for the life and survival of another human. 

“Hey,” Derek called. His voice sounded like it was underwater. So far away that she could barely hear it. “Baby, what’s going on?” 

She hadn’t noticed that she had stood from the bed and was pacing around their room. Her breathing was shallow, and her chest heaved as she took in short breaths, trying to steady herself. Tears kept falling faster than she could wipe them away. They warmed her cheeks before the air turned them cold. It was the only thing that grounded her. 

And Derek. Always Derek. 

He had gotten off the bed, and within a second, he was wrapping his arms around her. The warmth from his skin calmed her. It brought her senses back to the moment, steadying her rampant heart. 

“What’s wrong, (Y/N)?” he spoke into the crook of her neck. “Tell me what I can do to make it better.”  

“I’m scared, Derek,” she sighed, tightening her grip around him. “A baby. Here. Now.”  

“Why not here?” Derek smiled, his hands running through her hair. “Why not now? With you as their mother, that baby could be born underground, and they would be the luckiest child in the world.” 

“How could you be so sure?” (Y/N) cried. “I forget things all the time, I’m clumsy, I can barely redeem myself when it comes to fighting. If it weren’t for my weapons, I wouldn’t bring much to the fight against our enemies. What good would I be to protect a child? How could I be entrusted with their entire upbringing?” 

“Oh, (Y/N). You’re far more valuable than what you bring to a fight.” His hands cradled her face, the green of his eyes boring into hers. “You are the most caring person I know. If it weren’t for you, I would have killed half of the pack by now. You’re smart. You’re funny. And if anyone should be terrified of becoming a parent, it should be me.” 

“Come on,” she scoffed jokingly, her tears finally subsiding. “You’d be an amazing father. Temperamental, but great nonetheless.” 

“Well, I’m glad it at least got you laughing,” he grinned. “How about we just take this one day at a time, baby? Make sure we take things slow. Tell people on our own time. Instead of going to the doctor, we buy a pregnancy test at the pharmacy; confirm what I already know.” 

“But if you can hear the heartbeat, I am sure all the other wolves will, too,” she worried. “How am I supposed to take things as they come when everyone will know the second they come here?” 

“Then, I won’t let anyone back here,” he smiled. “I’ll have them meet me at the warehouse or at Argent’s place. We can say you’re sick with something and won’t be there. Or that you went to visit family out of state –I don’t know. The point is, we can do this, baby. I know we can.” 

“Well, I do admire your tenacity,” she chuckled, kissing his lips softly and hugging him again. “One day at a time, right?” 

“One day at a time.” 

And it worked. For two months, at least. 

That very morning, he went out and returned home with five pregnancy tests and a bouquet of flowers. And five minutes later, they all showed an array of dark pink plus signs and the word Pregnant on them. Just like that, it had been confirmed. A new baby Hale would be coming to Beacon Hills in eight months. 

They were excited. Of course, they were. But they couldn’t help the terror that overtook them as well. Bringing a new life into their world was a scary thought. The fact that anyone with knowledge of their child could use them against them was terrifying. Still, they wanted that baby more than anything they had wanted before. 

The child that grew inside of (Y/N) was the tangible representation of their love. Evidence that everything life had thrown at them had not been able to push them apart, not for a second. They had been through hell and back, always together, and they had come out of every single occasion stronger than before. That baby was the final piece to their equation. 

The next day, they went to the first available OB/GYN about an hour from the town. The doctor confirmed what they already knew, adding the new fact that she was around seven weeks along. The process was more than uncomfortable, but the result was well worth it. A tiny blob appeared on the screen, and the sound of a rapid heartbeat filled their ears. It made tears well up in their eyes. That tiny thing would soon turn into their baby. And even though it didn’t even have a distinguishable shape, they had fallen in love with them. 

At first, they thought they would pass the first trimester in bliss. That they would only grow more and more excited as the days passed. And they would have. Had it not been for all the symptoms that overtook (Y/N). 

She spent most of her day hunched over the toilet seat, emptying whatever was in her stomach. Even when she thought she could keep food down, an hour or two later, she would be in the bathroom letting it out. And if she wasn’t vomiting, she was ransacked with deep waves of nausea. Then, her breasts started to swell, painful jabs running through her every few days. In addition to heartburn and fatigue, it made her question just how worth it a baby could be. 

But Derek had been attentive as ever, if not a little overbearing. He had kept his promise of moving where the meetings were held, claiming that the loft was under renovation while (Y/N) was out of town for a bit. It wasn’t a complete lie, though. He used his downtime to clean up around the house and fix things he had put off for far too long. 

He fed her saltine crackers and electrolyte drinks, rubbed her back, and held her hair, and he loved her. Every day and every night, he loved her. Even when he had to stay up cleaning the bathroom or he had to carry her back to bed. He loved her through everything. 

“You did this to me,” she had groaned one day. “All I want is to eat chips and pickles, but I can’t keep anything down.”

“I know, and I’m sorry,” he responded, drawing circles on her back as he cradled her body in the bathroom. “Hopefully, in a week, it’ll subside. You’re almost out of the first trimester, and the morning sickness should get better.”

“Stop reading pregnancy books,” she whined. “By the time this bun is fully baked, you’ll know more than me.” 

“Isn’t that a good thing?” Derek chuckled but swallowed his laughter as (Y/N) gifted him an angry scowl. “Okay, okay. I think the ten books I’ve read will do.”

(Y/N) remained quiet and threw her head against his chest. His arms snaked around her body, a comfort she allowed herself to sink into. The warmth from his body felt nice against her shivering skin. But just his presence was enough to comfort her, regardless of the words she spoke. 

“I’m sorry I’ve been snappy these past few days,” she sighed. Her eyes closed as he wrapped his arms tighter around her, her head falling against his chest. “I love this baby, and I love you, but I don’t love puking all the time. And peeing all the time. And being tired all the time. I want to fast forward to the next few months.” 

“Hey, you can be snappy with me all you want. I can take it,” he said with a smile. “I will be right here every step of the way because I love you. More than you could ever know.” 

“Even when I’m all big and bloated?” (Y/N) chuckled, her hands falling onto the growing small bump. “They're already trying to deform my body.” 

“Well, at least you’re glowing.”

“No,” she sighed. “That’s just sweat.”

“Then you look beautiful covered in sweat,” he laughed. “Now, let’s get you to bed. Alright?” 

(Y/N) could only nod and wrap her arms around his neck as he carried her back to bed, laying right next to her. Even if he couldn’t take this discomfort away, he was trying his best to make things better for her. 

Another week passed, and things started to shift. The woman would only occasionally feel the need to throw up her food, but the constant nausea and heartburn had subsided. And once (Y/N) saw her baby's small fingers and feet in their 12-week ultrasound, she knew it had all been worth it. 

She also knew they couldn’t keep the secret to themselves any longer. 

The pack had become angsty. Wondering when (Y/N) would be coming back from her supposed trip. Two and a half months was far too long to just be with family. With no imminent danger in sight, they had too much time to check up on everyone else. 

“I think it’s time we tell them,” (Y/N) told Derek as they watched a movie. She cradled her small bump, something she had unconsciously started to do. “We’re almost at the five-month mark, and I think it’ll be too hard to hide.”

“Do we really?” he groaned. “I can just keep you hidden here until the nine months are up. They don’t have to know a thing.”

“You would really keep the mother of your child sequestered in these walls until I give birth?”

“Maybe even more,” he shrugged. “Maybe I’ll keep you here forever.”

“You’re quite funny, Mr. Hale,” she chuckled. “But they are our friends —our family. They deserve to know there’s one more person to protect.”

“I’ve just really liked this time,” he sighed. His chin rested on her shoulder, his beard tickling her exposed skin. “You know, just you and me. Basking in the time we won’t have once everyone knows and once the baby is here. It’s all I’ve ever wanted, (Y/N). A family of my own, that I can love and protect. A home that’s ours.”

“And we will have that,” she smiled. “We’re just allowing more love in. The best part, at the end of the day, we can just kick them out.” 

“When you put it that way,” he laughed before kissing her lips, savoring her. “Alright, fine. We’ll tell them next Saturday.” 

“Thank you, Der. It’s gonna be great.”

And it should have. 

Had it not been for the million things that went wrong that week. The A/C was busted for a total of four days, a pipe burst in one of the bathrooms, the paint they had ordered for the nursery had been put on back order, and the Camaro had to be taken into the shop for tuning. Thing after thing occurred, piling onto an already stressful time. 

Nevertheless, the week came and went. And before either of them knew it, Saturday had rolled in. 

To say (Y/N) was nervous was an understatement. For some reason, anxiety was taking over her body. Its claws dug themselves deep into her being. It made her veins run cold and her heart speed. She didn’t know how any of them would react to the baby. Even to the fact that they had kept it from them for so long. And although Derek tried his best to calm her worries, they had already made a home inside her head. 

“God, what if they hate the fact that I’m pregnant?” (Y/N) worried as she laid out more food than necessary on the kitchen counter. “What if they find the idea of bringing a child into a messed up world to be the worst thing ever?” 

“Who cares, baby? It’s our child,” Derek tried to reassure. “We are the ones that will be raising them. The ones to protect them. Always and forever.

“But they say it takes a village, Der. And that is one thing that I know is true. I mean, at some point, we will need their help.”

“And you really think we won’t have it,” he said, rounding the kitchen island. His hands traveled her body and, in one swift move, had her sitting on the counter. At eye level, he could stare directly into her glossy eyes. “We have been through everything with these people. Even the ones I hated at the beginning have become my closest friends. I’m 100% sure they’ll be thrilled that you’re pregnant.”

He snaked his hand to her chin, pulling her down for a soft kiss. But once their lips made contact, it was too much of a temptation to keep it chaste. Soon enough, their tongues danced together, and their hands pulled each other closer. It left them breathless and excited, wanting —needing more. 

“Uh, we can come back if it’s a bad time,” Stiles’ voice rang through the apartment, startling them apart. “But you guys did invite us here. So, it’s kind of bad on you guys.” 

“No. Yes! I mean, it’s not a bad time,” (Y/N) chuckled as she jumped off the counter, hiding her stomach with a comically large bowl. “We just got carried away, I guess.”

“The one day they decide to show up on time,” Derek grumbled under his breath. “Come in, why don’t you?” 

Before they knew it, the apartment was filled with werewolves, a banshee, other werehumans and supernatural beings, and their very own abominable snowman. The couple remained in the kitchen as everyone situated themselves, whispering under their breath what the best way to go about it would be. 

“Not to be pushy,” Peter called out. “But if you guys only called us over for some food, I have better things to do than hang around children all day.”

“You do know we’re all well above the age of eighteen, right?” Isaac retorted. “It’s been quite some time since we have been children.” 

“You’re still younger than me, correct?” 

“Well, yeah…” 

“Then children,” he said. “So, what is it? Am I staying, or am I leaving?” 

“Settle down, Peter,” Derek responded, biting back the urge to roll his eyes. “We do have something important to announce to everyone and would very much appreciate it if you just listen.” 

“Fine,” he frowned. “But you have ten minutes of my time before I decide to leave.” 

“All we need is a couple of seconds, really,” (Y/N) said with a smile on her face so sweet no one dared say anything else. “I’m sure you heard that I was away for a while and that we were undergoing renovations here. Which, as you can tell by the lack of changes, was not true. Derek lied on my behalf and moved any necessary meetings out of our home because I needed this time to myself as I underwent a sort of change in my life.” 

“Oh my god, you’re dying,” Stiles worried. “Is it cancer? Is it at least treatable?” 

“It’s nothing like that, Stiles,” she reassured with a soft chuckle. “But thank you for worrying. It’s just as life-changing but not necessarily life-threatening. At least, I’m hoping it’s not. But you could never be sure until…” 

“(Y/N), you’re rambling,” Derek whispered in her ear. “It’s nothing bad.”

“You’re pregnant!” Lydia exclaimed, a bright smile adorning her face. 

“How would you know that?” Malia questioned. “I thought you predicted death, not new life.” 

“It’s common sense,” she shrugged, disregarding the comment. “She’s been hiding for months. The place smells like paint, and nothing in this room is painted, so I can only assume it’s a bedroom. And she hasn’t stepped out from behind the island that just so happens to cover her stomach. Two and two always makes four.” 

“Except on this occasion, it made three,” (Y/N) chuckled. She walked around the counter and joined Derek’s side, her bump finally on display for everyone to see. “But, yes, Lydia, I am pregnant. Almost five months now.” 

A shower of ‘holy crap’s and ‘oh my god’s rained over them as, one by one, the pack got to their feet and hugged the couple in congratulations. They rejoiced together and started planning how to spoil little baby Hale even before they were born. Every single person was as excited and overjoyed as Derek and (Y/N) were, anxious for when the baby was born. 

Well, except Peter. 

“Yeah, next time you have these kinds of news, little nephew, make sure to make it an email,” he grumbled, looking at his watch. “Can’t believe I canceled evening plans for a pregnancy announcement.” 

“We love you too, Peter,” (Y/N) laughed. “Maybe if you leave now, you can still make it to whatever it is that you had planned.” 

“I’m already here,” he shrugged as he sat back down on the sofa. “Might as well take advantage of the free food.” 

“Ignore him,” Derek told her, wrapping his arms around her waist. “He can’t take this moment away from us. It’s all ours.” 

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[vikingstoner69]

Peter Hale/Reader: His

Fandom: Teen Wolf

Pairing: Peter hale/reader

Summery: peter calms you in the way you have always wanted 

Rating:Smut

You sigh and dry off throwing on Peter's shirt and boxer shirts. You walk into the living room to find Peter sitting on the couch shirtless. You walk over to him till you touch his knee and you straddle him.

"I missed you" you say kissing his neck. His hands go to your hips and you bite your lip.

"I had to hold Derek's hand today while looking for that body" he huffs and you grin. You play with the hair at the base of his neck and run your nails down his neck.

"Maybe you should come to the bedroom and I'll rub your back?" You grin, nipping his neck and his hold tightens.

"Kitten behave" he growls in warning but you don't listen and suck a mark on his neck making him growl.

"What if I don't want to behave? What if I want to be your bad girl?" You say nipping his ear and you grind down on the growing bulge. Peter chuckles and his hand lands on your thigh and his other around your throat making you moan.

"You just can't help yourself can you?" He chuckles and you bite your lip. You both knew this was because of the super full moon but the other part is you loved to fuck Peter.

"Oh please we both know you want me" you smirk moaning as you roll your hips and his hand gose to your hip holding you still making you growl and he flashes his eyes in warning.

"There is something I want even more" he growls, he pulls your mouth to his and he kisses you deeply biting your lip when he breaks the kiss. At this point you are soaking your panties and his pants as you try to catch your breath.

"What's that?" You pant catching your breath. You felt your cunt throb painfully and whine when he held you still.

"Your hot little mouth wrapped around my cock" he growls against your neck and ear making you moan and whine. He pulls back till your lips are almost touching and he nips your lip and you moan.

"You know I always love to suck your cock" you smirk and slide to the floor and undoes his pants and pulls them down letting his cock spring free. You reach up and grab his cock and slowly start to stroke him. You lean forward and suck the head of his cock and you both moan.

"Fuck! Good girl" he growls as you deep throat him. You Moan at his words and you look up at him as you gag a bit and you pull off for some air.

"I love how your cock feel in my mouth" you say before sucking his head back into your mouth and his free hand winds in your hair and he holds your hair still as he fucks your mouth and throat. Peter lets out a growl as he cums down your throat. He lets you go and you pull off him and swallow down everything he has given you.

"Come here!" He growls pulling you back in his lap and ripping your soaked panties in the process.

"Peter!" You cry out when he rubs your clit. Peter bites your lip and you lean down and kiss him deeply. Peter's other hand touches your breasts making you moan.

"Strip and get in the bed" he growls letting you go and you whine at the loss of his touch. But you walk with shaky legs to his room and strip naked and you crawl in the middle of his bed and you let out a whimper when his scent fills your nose and you feel hot and needy.

"Spread your legs show me what's mine" he growls stroking his cock. You moan and spread your legs showing him your soaked pusay and he groans.

"Please" you moan as your cunt burns and throbs for him.

"What do you want?" He groans, stroking his cock faster.

"I want you to fuck me till I can't move" you moan your hands roaming your own body. You moan as you rub your clit as you watch Peter jerk off over you. Peter let his cock go and he crawled over you.

"But first i'm hungry" he growls as he sucks your clit in his mouth and you grab his hair as you thrust up. Peter holds you I still and you moan and scream for him.

"Fuck! Peter! Please fuck me!" You scream as he shoves his tongue deep inside of you. Peter growls and kisses and bites up your hips and stomach to your breasts where he takes a nipple in his mouth and sucks hard as you wrap your legs around his waist. Peter kisses up to your neck where he sucks and bites making you moan.

"Who do you belong to princess?" He growls in your ear pulling back to look down at you. His blue eyes shining electric blue, your own eyes shining just as bright.

"You Peter! My alpha I'm yours!" You cry out as he bites your neck leaving his mark claiming you as his. You moan as he thrusts into you making you cry out.

"You're mine!" He snarls as he pounds into you. Your nails leave bloody marks behind. You lean up and kiss him deeply and nip his lip as you flip you both over.

"And you're mine!" You snarl as you ride him. Peter's hands hold your thigh and hip as you bounce on his dick.

"Fuck your tight!" He growls as your sharp nails leave marks down his chest as you moan feeling closer to cummung. Peter snarls and you are on your back once again making you moan loudly.

"Please" you moan as he fucks you hard. Your claws in his back making him growl and snarl. Peter grabs your throat as he fucks into you his bright blue eyes shine in the dark making your cunt clench around him and he groans.

"You wanna cum? Then be a good girl and beg for me" he growls, kissing you sloppily making you moan when he pulls back.

"Peter Please!" You whine and he starts to slow his thrusts and you growl.

"You can do better than that baby girl" he growls, slapping your breasts making you cry out.

"Fuck Peter Please! I want to cum! I want to cum so I can feel you cum deep inside of me! Cum so much I have your pup" you cry out Peter snarls and pulls out and flips you over onto hands and knees. He pushes back in as he grabs your hair pulling you back into his thrusts.

"Fuck! Such a good girl! Cum on my cock" he growls smacking your ass making you cry out. You scream as you cum hard your cunt clamps down on him and he moans deeply. You knew Peter was close.

"Fuck Peter give it to Me fill me full!" You moan and he growls and stiffens up as he cums you moan and bite your lip when you feel his hot cum. Peter flops onto his back and looks over to you with a cocky smirk on his face as he tries to catch his breath.

"I think maybe you should help me with a shower and maybe a rub down?" You grin and lean down to kiss him and he grabs your lip with his teeth making you shiver.

"You just can't get enough can you?" He smirks as you straddle him.

"Well what can I say? You make me so wet all the time. Now let's go get in the shower while I suck your cock" you grin standing up and walking naked to his bathroom leaving him staring after your.

"Your asking for it" he chuckles as he gets up to follow you.

[exequien]

finally drew peter again!!!! only a quick sketch because I'm struggling a lot with art right now. My wrists decided they hate me at the start of the year and now i have severe chronic wrist pain. so. but i started physical therapy and hopefully whatever is wrong with them (probably tendinosis) will improve!! The peter art withdrawal finally got to me though, so maybe expect a few drawings in the near future, i can't promise anything though! :P

[notalotjust4ever]

Welcome to my blog! 🎀

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Renesmee + Any of the Cullens/ EX: Renesmee + Rosalie (PLATONIC ONLY)

Any of the Cullens + Any of the Cullens/ EX: Jasper + Rosalie (PLATONIC ONLY)

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Harry Osborn X Peter Parker (PLATONIC OR ROMANTIC)

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NSFW about any character under 18+ (Renesmee) 🚫

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Any other POV than 3rd person (just a personal preference!) 🚫

Character X Reader (also personal preference!)🚫

WHAT I ✅WILL ✅WRITE

Characters with a disability or chronic illness! I'm actually so happy to write these, as a person with a chronic illness I believe representation is important in all forms (yes even fan-fiction). These requests might take a bit longer though just because I would like to do my research so I can portray the disability/ chronic illness correctly.✅

Neurodivergent Characters! (Written by neurodivergent author:D) ✅

Characters who you head canon as not cis! I also have my personal headcannons and not all of them line up with the canon so of course will be happy to write any character as trans (MTF/FTM), Non-binary, or gender fluid:) gender is beautiful folks!✅

Mild yandere behavior✅

Slightly suggestive works (WILL HAVE A WARNING) ✅

Smut (WILL HAVE A WARNING) ✅

K!nk (this changes in a case to case bases but chances are I will say yes more than I say no EXCEPT if it is one of the k!nks in the no-no area (WILL HAVE A WARNING) ✅

A character struggling with bullying or ableism✅

•Fluff✅

•Hurt Comfort (PLEASE PLEEK I LOVE HURT COMFORT ITS MY BABA)✅

Light angst✅

Active ED recovery!✅

Headcannons✅

GENERAL RULES AND TIPS FOR ASKS

Please do not interact with my NSFW posts if you are not 18+, it is more comfortable for both of us.

Don’t be afraid to talk to me! Ask me about my day, what I had for lunch, headcannons, whether I think Jasper would still love Alice if she was a worm LITTERALLY WHATEVA🎀 I’m here to talk to y’all and share my silly thoughts!

Please be specific with your requests! I don’t want to get something wrong plus it just makes for a better story!

I will not write your request or answer if you are being rude/ impatient, I have a life outside of Tumblr too<3

Please don’t ask me any personal questions that will risk my safety or security, I will not reply.

Please remember I am not perfect, I might not get to your request right away, I might get something wrong, be forgiving with me.

Please don’t fill my ask box with character hate.

If I refuse an ask just remember it’s not anything personal, I just didn’t feel comfortable writing what you requested.

Have fun! This is a safe space where you will find there is no place for judgement or haters!

RP

WHO I WILL RP FOR⋆.*ೃ✧

DM’s are always open for RP

୭̥°⋰˚ ALICE CULLEN ୭̥°⋰˚

✦°．• JAPSER HALE ✦°．•

•ू♡ HARRY OSBORN •ू♡

ೃ•୭ ೃ•୭ ೃ•୭ ೃ•୭ ೃ•୭ ೃ•୭ ೃ•୭

GENERAL RULES AND TIPS FOR ASKS

Please do not reach out unless you are 18+, I’m sorry I’m just not comfortable doing an RP with a minor.

The rules for RP are the same as my writing rules as it goes for do’s and don’ts so check it out above!

I only RP in advanced literate style. Check out the RP styles here⬇️

Please be understanding, I will probably not reply right any especially not on a week day as I have a job and hobbies🎀

If I refuse an RP please remember it’s not anything personal, I just didn’t feel comfortable doing the RP you purposed.

Please do not vent to me in my DM’s, I will not reply to keep my own peace.

THIS INTRO IS TEMPORARY UNTIL I GET THINGS MORE ORGANIZED ON THIS BLOG WITH MASTERLISTS🩰

Thank you🎀

[blindbunnii]

[marsafter-dark]

The SVSSS Teen Wolf crossover no one wanted or asked for. But yet it’s here.

[ash-mcj]

hi! for the new prompt list you posted, could you do either 6 or 7 (kisses) with steter? thank youuu <3

A KISS OF RELIEF ♥ (sorry for writing this a over a year later, anon)

"when life gives you a monday, kiss a werewolf (or however the saying goes)" | STETER | A03

Despite half of the pack being reluctantly civil with Peter at best, the entire room seemed to hold a collective breath as Deaton poured the liquid over the deep gashes in his chest and abdomen—where they had literally had to hold his organs in his body as they sped to the clinic in Theo’s truck. Finally, slowly, Peter’s wounds began to stitch themselves back together—and Stiles saw his vision blur with unshed tears before he even registered the urge to cry.

It felt like far too long, but eventually, Peter’s eyes snapped open with strangled gasp—and the pack sagged in relief. If Peter was conscious, he’d be okay. He was a survivor, after all.

“Gods, I hate Mondays,” Peter said hoarsely.

“You bastard,” Stiles chuckled, or maybe sobbed—it was hard to tell.

[or: peter almost dies, stiles is sick of waiting for the right moment, and they share their first kiss in front of the (disgusted) pack]

[natsvenom]

Hello! I'm new on your blog and I was wondering if you could do a Derek Hale x reader. Where reader and Derek have a child who is learning how to talk so when the child call for reader they make kissing faces because the child always saw their dad kissing their mom and one day where the pack come to Derek's loft for whatever reason and when the child saw stiles they growl or say wolf ( because they always hear stiles say sourwolf) and when the child see Peter they just hit or try to bite Peter when he takes them in his arms. Just something domestic, a little bit chaotic and fluff please.

Of course! I tried my best with this one, but I'm not really sure how it came out, so let me know if you like it! | @@bakakara666

Snuggles & Snarles | Derek Hale x Reader

Summary: The pack comes over to see your son, Eli, and things get a little chaotic.

Warnings: None! Just fluff <3

Requested: Yes | No

Chaos was not an uncommon visitor in Beacon Hills. Usually, you were used to the common threat of some unknown supernatural creature trying to kill you and your friends. Luckily this time, the only chaos you had to put up with was the babbled attempts of speech from your baby boy, Eli.

The whole pack was gathered at the loft, paying extra attention to Eli. They claimed they had come to see you and Derek, but you both knew the truth. Ever since you two welcomed Eli into your home, the pack had been over almost daily. You couldn’t blame them though, your son was adorable.

Scott and Stiles were sitting on the floor, saying random words to Eli in a baby voice to get him to speak. Eli had stumbled on his feet, toddling over to you, putting his hands in the air for you to pick him up.

“Traitor,” Stiles mumbled, pouting and crossing his arms over his chest like a child. Scott smiled, admiring how much your son had loved you.

“Hi, baby.” You said softly, picking your son up in your arms. Derek kissed your cheek, causing Eli to giggle. He puckered his lips, making kissy faces at the both of you. Scott and Stiles busted out laughing, finding the whole interaction amusing. Peter even smiled a little bit. As much as a pain in the ass Peter could be, he loved you and Derek a lot, and maybe Eli just a little bit more.

Lydia walked over to the both of you sticking her arms out for Eli. He instantly leaned over, going straight into Lydia’s arms, “Aw, do you love your auntie Lyds? I think you do!” Lydia said in a high-pitched baby voice. Derek rolled his eyes playfully, Lydia was probably the biggest baby hog the world would ever see.

You looked around the loft, smiling to yourself. You loved your chaotic little family and you wouldn’t trade any of them for the world. Derek put his arms around you, pulling you into him. It was moments like these that made everything you had all gone through worth it.

Stiles sat down by Lydia on the couch, pinching Eli’s cheeks. Eli growled at him, causing Stiles to throw his hands up defensively, “He started it.” Stiles said. Eli stuck his tongue out, spitting on Stiles’ face. Stiles had a disgusted look on his face, slowly wiping away the saliva.

“Babies… disgusting.” He muttered.

“Aww, are you disgusting? I don’t think so, Stiles is just a grumpy grouch.” Lydia cooed, bouncing Eli in her arms. Stiles rolled his eyes, looking the other way.

“Yeah, don’t be such a sourwolf Stiles.” You teased, remembering all the times Stiles had said that to Derek. He narrowed his eyes at you, giving you the finger. You sent him a playful smile in return.

“Alright, I think someone wants to see their uncle Peter,” Peter said, snatching Eli out of Lydia’s arms. Lydia scoffed, getting up from her place on the couch to chase Peter down for Eli.

Eli started biting and scratching at Peter, “Looks like someone takes after their father a little too much, huh?” Peter joked, referring to the time Derek had killed Peter by slashing his throat. You shook your head, watching as Peter tried to get Eli to quit biting him.

“Exactly, he doesn’t like you. Now hand him over.” Lydia argued, attempting to take Eli back from Peter.

“He likes me better than you.” Peter scoffed, dodging Lydia’s grabby hands.

Lydia gasped, “He does not!” Lydia protested.

“Put him down and see which one of you he walks to,” Scott suggested.

“Fine,” Peter said, setting Eli down in the middle of the room. Lydia and Peter instantly began calling out for Eli, patting their hands on their knees, signaling for Eli to come to them. Eli looked around the room, slightly confused. He started running in Peter’s direction, his arms in the air.

“Yes! I told you—”

Eli ran straight past Peter and up to Derek, “Dada!” Eli said, grabbing onto his dad’s leg. Derek bent down, picking up Eli into his arms. Peter looked back, looking at the baby offended.

“Guess we know who his favorite isn’t.” Derek taunted, sending Peter a smirk.

[sundrop-writes]

you were nice to me and acknowledged my existence so i hope you know that means you’ve unknowingly asked for all my dumbass, hyper-specific 12AM bullshit thoughts.

you can turn this into a mini blurb or teen wolf pack headcanon - whatever works for you, but who do you think in the pack is would be into you wearing a necklace (or any form of jewelry really) with their name/initial on it? are they buying it for you or is it something you would have to initiate, do they want one too with your name/initial on it?

i know it’s not everyone’s thing but i think it can be really adorable 🥰

if this isn’t your vibe just let me know, no biggie 🩷

This is absolutely my vibe!!! I love this prompt so much omg. Also, I love it when people come to me with their random 12am bullshit - whether it's just to rant in my inbox about fictional characters or to suggest fic ideas. This is what Tumblr inboxes are for

My requests for Teen Wolf are open!! Just make sure to read my rules first!!

What would the pack think of you wearing a necklace that represents them?

A/N: I changed it from an initial to a representative symbol, partially because of a tiktok that Star sent me the other day of someone selling Teen Wolf necklaces in an Etsy shop that I can't stop thinking about and I want one so badly, and partially because I think Derek's tattoo would make a really amazing necklace.

Warnings: descriptions of canon level violence, I tried to make the reader as gender neutral as possible (please let me know if I messed up anywhere on that), Isaac's low self eesteem due to his father's abuse, mentions of Jackson x Lydia, references to sex (but nothing descriptively smutty), I think that's it.

Includes: Derek Hale, Isaac Lahey, Scott McCall, Stiles Stilinski, Erica Reyes (I got tired while writing this so that's all the characters we have lmao)

Derek would love it. It would be his idea - he would be the one to give you the necklace.

He met you shortly before becoming an Alpha, and you were the defining member of his pack. You were the first person he had bitten in order to turn them - you had been bleeding out outside of the Hale house after Peter had stuck his claws through your stomach, sensing Derek's attachment to you (even if it was something that Derek himself hesitated to admit), and he had called Derek weak for taking a liking to you. So the moment after Derek had slashed Peter's throat open, making him the Alpha, he had used his new found power to bite you, ultimately saving your life.

You were someone he had once viewed as his weakness, but he had come to realize that you were his ultimate strength. You showed him how to interact with Erica, Isaac, and Boyd with kindness and understanding, you showed him how to harness his Alpha power with more than just the anger he harboured inside. You showed him love - something his isolated heart hadn't felt in years.

To him, the triskele tattoo on his back represented the three forms of a wolf could take - the powerful, leading Alpha, the following Beta, and isolated, weak Omega. It represents how a wolf can rise to power, but he can also fall to weakness if he's not careful.

When he gave you a necklace with that same symbol as its pendant, he explained to you why it was so important to him that you wear it.

"You have helped me rise to my full potential." He told you, pinning the clasp behind your neck. "Every time I look at this around your neck, I want to be reminded of that. I want to be reminded not to fall to anything less." He kissed the base of your neck, causing you to break into a large smile as his thick, warm arms wrapped around you from behind. "I need to be reminded to serve you a good, loyal Alpha every single day. Not to fall back into my former weaknesses."

"I thought I was your weakness?"

"No. You're my strength."

Isaac would be unsure about it. And it most definitely was not his idea.

It started with you and Lydia hanging out before a lacrosse game - the two of you were getting ready in her room, and while she finished up her makeup, she said 'oh!' as if suddenly remembering something, and then went to her jewellery box. You looked on in curiosity as she pulled out a necklace, and when you squinted closer, you saw that it was a silver pendant with the number 37 on it.

"What's that?" You asked.

"It's Jackson's jersey number." She told you. "It's good luck for a player's girlfriend to wear his jersey number, and I didn't want some big ugly jacket with the numbers written on the back."

It made you wonder if you should wear Isaac's jersey number to the game, even though the two of you had been playing around with dating, not exactly official. Isaac was hesitant on PDA and labels. Lydia encouraged you, though, and she ended up using a red lipstick to write his number 14 on your cheek, making you look like a crazed fan - but everybody at the game already knew who you were there for.

Before the next game, Lydia gifted you with a necklace similarly to her own, with the promise that she wouldn't have to freeze her ass off in the stands alone - and to her, it was like the two of you had matching best friend necklaces, representing the lugheads that you cheered for on the field together. At first, you only wore it to games. But then you found comfort in wearing it all the time.

Isaac, of course, took notice of this - his eyes easily magnetized to the number 14 glimmering on the silver chain around your neck.

He felt like he didn't deserve to have a mark on you. He was undeserving of claiming you, undeserving of being called your 'boyfriend'. He was worthless, and you wearing something that represented some kind of serious relationship between the two of you - why did you want him? Why?

After a long, tiring night of talking, some tears, and eventually some kissing - he finally understood. And from then on, he was more than proud to have his 14 constantly shining around your neck.

Scott would love it. But it would be your idea.

The two of you had to date in secret - your family had a loyalty, an alignment with the Argents, so you couldn't be seen with Scott in public, creating a deep frustration between the two of you when you couldn't hold hands in the hallways or go on 'real' dates like other couples could. Scott expressed a deep frustration at loving you, being your boyfriend, but not getting to be yours twenty-four seven like he wanted to, and that's what caused you to come up with the idea.

You got a silver heart locket necklace, and inside, put a picture of the two of you. Well - it was a piece of the picture of the two of you. You grabbed a photo of the two of you kissing, and cut out the space that had formed between your necks when your lips came together in a kiss - to anybody else (most important, if your family saw it) it would have looked like a photo of blank sky. But you and Scott were the only two people in the world who knew what the photo truly was.

And you gave him the rest of the photo with the missing heart shape cut out between the two of you so that he could be reminded of your next words every single time he looked at it.

"The space between us isn't what matters." You told him firmly, pointing to the space you had cut out of the photo. "No matter how big that space gets, we always know how much we love each other. We'll always have each other."

From then on, every single time he looked at the silver heart dangling around your neck, it was something he remembered with a smile. No matter how far the two of you had to be apart, no matter for how long - your love kept you together.

Stiles would absolutely love it. It would be his idea.

Stiles would be incredibly shy and shitting his pants nervous about asking you to wear his numbers, but the week before, you had asked him to be your boyfriend after a roaring success of a first date that he had no clue how he landed with you. His first game as a first linger was coming up, and he felt like things could only go up from here.

He had you, he was first line, so - he steadied his courage as he tightly gripped the black velvet box that had the shiny gold necklace in it, praying that this wouldn't be too much, too soon. Praying that he wasn't going to scare you off.

"Um, hey." He greeted you at your locker, a ball of nervous energy that had you giving him a questioning eyebrow.

"Good morning." You smiled at him, wondering why he was acting so strange. You leaned in and kissed him on the lips - a light, chaste kiss in greeting, and he felt himself nearly knocked over by the joy of it.

This was really real. He had you.

"What's that?" You asked, motioning toward the box in his hands.

"Oh, uh - a gift." He said. "For you."

"Stiles, you didn't have to. It's not my birthday or anything."

"I know." He said. "I want to - to do something special. To celebrate you being mine."

An intense wave of butterflies overtook you at this, and you look on in awe as he opened the box, presenting the necklace to you.

"It's - um - it's my jersey number. Ya know - 24. Just - it's a thing that people usually do, wearing their boyfriend's number... and I - am I being too weird? I'm sorry." He went off rambling the longer that you didn't speak, and you quickly raised a hand to his wrist, trying to calm him with a soothing touch there.

"I love it." You assured him with a smile. "Thank you. I can't wait to wear it."

"I could... help you put it on now?"

You nodded enthusiastically, and he excitedly grabbed it out of the box.

From then on, you never took it off. You were more than proud to be his, and proud to show it off by wearing the necklace.

Erica would fucking love it, but it wouldn't really be intentional on either of your behalves.

One thing Erica never expected about becoming a werewolf - how possessive it would make her. But being able to smell when someone had touched you, being able to hear how hard your heart pounded when you were scared or anxious - it made her want to rip apart anybody who even looked at you the wrong way. The two of you weren't even officially dating. Your friendship always crossed weird lines - you were the only person who was kind to her when she was an outcast, and after she transformed, you were the only person she knew for certain didn't just want her for her body.

The sex between the two of you was amazing, but you never talked about feelings.

One night in the haste of undressing, she dropped a necklace on your floor - a nameplate necklace that her parents had gotten for her birthday a few years ago. You didn't want to forget to bring it back to her, and you thought it was funny, a kind of joke - so you put it on. You thought nothing of having the name 'Erica' dangling around your neck in bold silver letters.

When Erica saw it - it drove all of her wolfish instincts insane. Seeing her claim on you, her name literally written across you - it took everything she had in her not to throw you across a table in the middle of the library and fuck your brains out, then and there.

And she saw the way other people reacted to it too. The way guys would go to flirt with you, but then their eyes would dart down to the necklace and then look to her, as if finally noticing her presence glaring at them, telling them to back off - and then they would scatter in fear. It was the first time in weeks that the two of you actually had peace.

So she implored you to keep it. She loved having a silent little claim on you. After all, wolves love claiming their territory, right?

...

Teen Wolf Masterlist

[vikingstoner69]

This was crazy, you knew this was. And yet here you were running in the middle of the woods on a full moon while Peter hunted you down. You could feel your heart race as your mind thought up all of the things he would do to you once he found you.

"You're going to have to do better than that" you hear his voice come from the darkness and you bite your lip. You take off running through the creek and going back to your house hoping that your own scent would hide you.

Making it back to the house you take deep breaths and try to calm your breathing and your heartbeat. Even though you felt so excited and wet. You knew he could pick up on it. You grin as a chill runs down your spine in excitement, he was coming.

Hearing a sound in the living room you go see what it is only for it to be empty of anyone. You look throughout the house and then go back to your bedroom not looking when you come in closing the door behind. Turning around you run into a hard chest and you look up to see Peter with a smirk on his face and his eyes glow in the darkness of the room. You try to take a step back but your back hits the door and he chuckles.

Peter leans in and sniffs your neck with a soft growl that made you shiver and your cunt to throb and leak for him and he knew it. Peter brings his head close to your ear.

"I win" he growls hotly in your ear making you bite your lip. Peter strokes your face and makes you look at him with a firm hand around your throat.

"Naybe this time but next time I will win" you grin and he chuckles as he uses his claw to cut down your shirt exposing your breasts your nipples hard and begging to be touched. Peter growls and kisses you deeply making you moan. You grab the back of his head pulling on his hair making him growl.

"You know what that means sweetheart" he smirks down at you. You get on your tiptoes to nip his lip as you rip open his button down shirt and running your nails down his chest.

"You can fuck me however you want but I'm still having fun here" you grin kissing his chest and biting a mark making him growl as you kiss and bite on his chest and lower stomach. Peter growls when you undo his pants and he groans his head falling back. You look up at him as you stroke him before you suck him down your throat making his hand go into your hair and he snarls.

"Fuck! Such a good girl for me" he groans hotly as you deep throat him. You look up at him as you moan around his hard cock. He groans and holds you still as he fucks your throat. You gag and moan as he fucks your face how he wants. Peter growls and shoves deep in your throat and he cums with a growl of your name. Peter pulls back and looks down at you as you lick your lips while looking up at him.

"I love how your cum tastes" you grin standing up. Peter grabs your throat and kisses you deeply making you moan and you reach up to pull him closer.

"Strip for me sweetheart" he growls slowly and you bite your lip as you Strip out of all your clothes. Your hands go to his shoulders as he kisses you deeply.

"Please Peter I need you"you moan as he bites and nips your neck you were soaking wet for him.

"What do you want?" He growls lowly in your neck. You had a hard time thinking or speaking with his mouth on your neck.

"I need you to fuck me" you moan, Peter chuckles and leads you to the bed. You get unto bed and spread your legs. Showing him your dripping wet cunt. Peter crawls over you and you reach up touching his body and loving how he feels over you.

"Oh I plan to" he growls, grinding his hard cock Into you making you moan and cling to him.

"I love how you feel over me. I love how safe I feel" you moan kissing his mate mark on his neck you had made months ago.

"I'll always keep you safe" he says slowly, kissing and biting marks everywhere he goes. Peter grabs his cock and rubs it through your folds making you whine and beg for him.

"Please! I need you! Fuck me hard! Make me your bitch!" You beg your nails clawing at his arms and he groans.

"Good girl" he growls as he slowly pushes into you. You moan and cling to him as he fills you full.

"Ah fuck! Peter!" You cry out as he starts a hard and deep pace making your toes curl and your nails to dig in his back. Peter loved watching you as he fucked you. He loved all the sounds you would make just for him. You were his in ever since of the word, you were his mate and he yours.

"I want you to scream my name! Let everyone know who you belong to!" He growls as he fucks you into the bed. Peter's grip was firm but not painful. Peter was so deep inside of you felt so full.

"Yes! I'm yours! All yours! Please, I want to cum!" You beg feeling so close to Cumming but not quite able to.

"Cum for Me! Fuck cum so I can fill you full!" He groans as he fucks you hard and deep. You cry out out and cum hard your nails leaving marks down his back and he snarls.

"PETER!" You scream his name and he growls as he cums filling you full.

Peter takes a deep breath and leans down kissing you deeply and he grabs your throat, his eyes flashing blue.

"I'm no way near done with you sweetheart heart so rest while you can" Peter chuckles as he pulls you into his chest. You kiss his chest and look up at him with a grin. You swing your leg over his hip and straddle him and you grin down. Peter rubs your tighs and hips.

"What If I don't want to wait?" You grin and lean down to kiss him deeply knowing it wouldn't be long before he took over making you his once again.

[exequien]

For the drawing prompts, would it be possible to request Peter as a dragon or in a full wolf form? Thank you!

haven’t drawn wolves in a while, but this is how i imagine his wolf :DD I'm always open for requests btw, though I could be slow responding!!!

[wheredidhiseyebrowsgo]

So… I already have like 70 Sterek fic tabs open on my phone (there’s so many good authors in this fandom it’s not my fault!) but I was thinking that despite some fantastic tumblr posts about it I don’t think I’ve actually read a necromancer!Stiles fic.

I went through your fabulous tag page but I didn’t see one so hopefully I didn’t miss it. If you or your loverly followers have any recs I sure would appreciate it!

(And no rush, I seriously have so many tabs but I am greedy)

Hi @arora-kayd! @kevaaronday made this list for you.

Murder, Magic and a Masterclass in Denial by Noxnthea (9/9 | 41,940 | Explicit | Sterek) “No, seriously, I need to talk to you really quick,” Stiles interrupts. “Before Peter gets out here.” 

Derek braces himself. “Okay.”

“I need you to make sure I can be alone with the body for a few minutes.” 

Derek stares at him. “You get that that’s like…a really weird request, right?”

In the three months since Derek left the NYPD and joined the FBI’s Behavioral Analysis Unit, he’s gotten used to a lot of things: he’s learned to deal with seeing Peter every day, he knows how to hide his enhanced senses on the job, and he doesn’t mind the late nights and early mornings.

One thing he’s still not used to, however, is Stiles Stilinski.

You only Live Once… or Twice by WonderWolf (6/6 | 32,949 | Explicit | Sterek) “Anything,” Derek’s eyes are determined, boring into Stiles’. 

Stiles huffs a laugh, “Careful there, big guy. Don’t want to be promising anything to every necromancer you meet. Some might ask for your soul or someth—”

“I’ll give you my soul to bring her back,” Derek says, his voice steady and strong with resolve, “if that’s what you want.”

Stiles’ mouth gapes open for a moment before his brain kicks into gear and he stutters out, “N-no, I don’t ask for that. I only ask for money.”

(Or the one in which Stiles is a necromancer who needs help stopping a rogue alpha and Derek is the solution, but at what cost?)

I See Dead People by Asteria_Star (13/13 | 15,318 | Teen | Sterek) Stiles has been able to see Ghosts for as long as he could remember. Having a ghost tell you that you are a necromancer and that the supernatural exists was nothing. What isn't nothing is trying to navigate your best friend becoming a werewolf while trying to hide what you are. 

Features Stiles and Talia having a mother-son dynamic that I didn't know I needed.

Sarcasm, Suspicion and Raising the Dead: A Necromancer’s Guide to Getting the Guy (Your Murderer and/or Your Boyfriend) by Aerica_Menai (1/1  |13,917 | Teen | Sterek) Stiles met Derek’s blue, blue eyes - still striking, even bloodshot from crying - as he slid into the other side of the booth. Immediately, the request came tumbling forward: “Could - would you bring her back?”

“I can - I will - but only temporarily,” Stiles warned.

“Thank you,” he breathed. “Whatever extra time I get with her will be - “ He took a deep breath as his voice broke. “ - appreciated,” he finally choked out.

And that’s when Stiles knew he was in trouble.

formed in the very poetry of nature by frankie_31 (4/4 | 7,984 | Explicit | Steter) Stiles can raise the dead. Stiles can put them back down. But what happens when one of his undead minions stays up?

Peter Hale is back from the dead. Kind of. And he'd like to stay that way.

Burial Rituals by aurevell (1/1 | 4,989 | Gen | Sterek) The necromancer freezes halfway over the fence, stuttering to a halt the second Derek flashes his red eyes. It’s an awkward pose to hold: leg hiked up over the waist-high bars, hands gripping the rail for balance. The fence’s wrought-iron spears dig into his calf a bit as he settles, clearly caught off guard.

“Uh,” he says lamely, his face pale in the scant moonlight. “Shit.”

Derek guards an abandoned cemetery. Stiles is the necromancer trying to break in.

[okay-j-hannah]

Part 6: Orange Cream and Peachy Sugar

Teen Wolf : Multishot

Stiles Stilinski x Reader

Word Count: 13.6k

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

Request: This just came from my own head 😊  

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

Part 5: Mieczyslaw

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

Part 7: The Summer Filter

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ex-fucking-cuse me?!”

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

“Who is it?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Evidently,” Stiles shrugs his shoulders.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

~~~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Someone’s having a fight inside.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Wait! We should…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was yellow and green with age.

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

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

What was he actually dealing with at home?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m sorry,” you say softly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

~~~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I thought that’s how kissing works?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You consider it.

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

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

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

“Exactly…”

“But we did already make a kissing pact.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Then why did…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Is this good?”

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

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

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

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

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

Then your watch starts to blare with an alarm.

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

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

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

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

“There you go, that’s better.”

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

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

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

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

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

You smile, “I’m okay.”

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

“That we did.”

“Like a lot.”

“It was a lesson in many things.”

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

“You take direction well.”

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

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

“I loved it.”

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

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

His laughing stops abruptly. “The next girl?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

~~~

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

It had to be.

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

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

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

But maybe to him you are.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How’s it looking?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“In what way?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

~~~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Only two dates.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Tanner Humphries?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“The only boys I care about.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“From you,” Allison smirks.

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

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

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

~~~

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

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

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

Shit.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I have some friends I can go with.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

~~~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You mean with her heart?”

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

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

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

“Watch your mouth,” Scott points a finger.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“(Y/N)?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He shrugs, “I’m not sorry at all.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Always.”

~~~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Standing there was Scott and Stiles.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Burgers and fries?” you ask hopefully.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He huffs a laugh, “What gave you that idea?”

“You’re being more twitchy than usual.”

He eyes you, “I’ve been here plenty of times, you haven’t made that observation before.”

“You’re really thinking about it today,” you press, “Is something wrong?”

He ticks his jaw, playing with his fries. “I used to eat in here a lot… when my mom was here.”

Your chest goes tight. Of course it has something to do with his mom, “Stiles, I’m…”

“My dad used to leave me here when he went to work,” he keeps going, “The nurses were all my friends, and I ate dinner in the cafeteria all the time. They would save an extra chocolate pudding for me sometimes.” He smiles in painful fondness, “I was alone when… when she…”

He couldn’t say it.

You scooch closer to him, letting him talk without you interrogating him. He looks at your eager expression with a soft smile, “She had frontotemporal dementia.” He leans closer to you subconsciously, enjoying the security he felt near you.

“It started with little things like she couldn’t pick up her keys and she wouldn’t sleep at night. Then she couldn’t function at her job, so she stayed home. Then she started to get… scary.” He takes a deep swallow, “She started seeing things – hallucinations – and became paranoid sometimes. We had to hospitalize her soon after that.”

You knew the symptoms of frontotemporal dementia. Some of the long-term patients at the hospital had dementia. But you let him continue to talk without your input. You could guess that he didn’t talk about his mom very often, especially her death.

You put a hand on his arm as silent support.

He takes a breath at your touch, “When I’d visit, I didn’t know if I’d see my mom or the patient dealing with dementia.” His eyes look a little glassy as he continues, “It was hard spending so much time here. I knew she wasn’t going to come home. And then one night when my dad was on call… it was just me at her bedside.”

You rub your thumb into his forearm, “How old were you?”

“Eight,” he says, sniffling as the emotion burns his throat. “Seeing her deteriorate that fast… it was awful.” His lip trembles, “That was my mom, you know?”

You move your arm around his back, resting your head on his shoulder. It was a hug you could give while sitting at a table. “I know.” You squeeze him tight, “It must’ve been horrible.”

His breathing was shaky, “It was,” he rubs roughly at his eyes, “I wouldn’t wish that on my worst enemy. Not even Derek Hale.”

“What about Mr. Harris?”

He makes a considering face, a smile curling his lips. “Maybe.”

You pinch him, “That’s terrible.” You trail your fingers across his back, looking for more tears, “Why tell me?”

He watches you wipe away a tear before it reaches his chin, “Because I wanted you to know.” He shrugs, eyes a little redder, “I like you, and I trust you.”

You watch him with rosy cheeks. An immense feeling of pride was swelling in your chest. Stiles chose you, out of dozens of people, to talk about the death of his mom. A horribly sensitive subject for him. He had gone out of his way to be in an environment that reminded him of uncomfortable things to bring you dinner. He opened up to you and gave you a large part of his heart.

He was doing it partially to tell you things he wanted you to know – things you needed to know to be close to him – but also to partially tell you that it was okay to open up about horribly sensitive stuff.

He wanted to hear your story too.

But how could you now? You feel a pang in your chest. How could you explain to Stiles that you would reach a similar end before too long. An end like his moms.

~~~

Taglist: @assassinsasha23 @tasty-book-fans @lovelybaka @the-fandom-queen @runs-with-sciss0rs @iamaslytherin0 @n3muru @bethsvrse @taylorbrooke-0912 @iloveyou2mia @everrrsincenewyork @gisellesprettylies @dullypully @taylordaughter @greenoliveslover

[writersmess]

Hello, how are you? I hope you're doing okey so I see that you are taking request again I wanted to know if you could do a Derek Hale x reader when they have Eli and he is at the stage where he's learning how to talks and he only knows how to say his last name so when Derek and reader leave Eli on peter's watch and at one moment Eli is missing his parents so he goes to Peter and says his last name and Peter just don't understand why he is saying that and Eli ends up crying so Peter calls Derek because poor uncle Peter don't know what to do, just something funny and chaotic please ( sorry if this long and if you don't understand everything it's because english is not my first language so I might have confused everything ).

MISSING YOU | DEREK HALE

Pairing: Derek Hale x fem!reader

Summary: While under Peter’s care, baby Eli wouldn’t stop crying. Until everyone found out why.

Warning: none

Word count: 1.4k

a/n: hey sweeties! Thanks for the request! I loved it so much! I hope you enjoy it!!! I apologize for any mistakes, English is not my first language.

Masterlist

................................

“did you get this on tape?” you asked excitedly and Derek agreed in a murmur. You looked at him and your eyes automatically filled with tears as you saw him with a few tears streaming down his face. he was completely dazzled.

Hale.

It was baby Eli’s first word.

You were playing with the child when he randomly dropped the word. Derek was filming the moment unpretentiously as he always did to keep all possible memories of his little family, and he got to record this moment. It was magical.

“of all the words, he had to chose Hale” Derek said as he hugged you from the side and looked fondly at the baby carefully positioned on the floor with his toys.

“what can I say? He is just like his mama” you joked, hugging him back while laying your head on his shoulder.

You knew exactly why Eli chose that word.

You were Scott and Stiles’ classmate and when the supernatural world began to take over the town, you found yourself in a pack full of scared and inexperienced teenagers. Scott and Stiles took you in and explained what was going on, after you were caught in the middle of the crossfire between hunters and werewolves. Suddenly this bunch of teenagers were best friends and together they were fighting supernatural and human threats.

And there was Derek Hale.

A sourwolf who after so many losses, had to deal with these teenagers full of doubts and fears.

The moment you laid your eyes on Derek you knew your heart was his. And he knew that too, he wanted to love you. But you were too young, it was totally against his morals. And then you went away to study in another state, all of you did. Derek would never admit it but he missed you, missed your irony, missed your passionate glances, your contagious laugh.

He didn’t expect that after a few years you would come back to the city, but your father was sick, he needed you. And it was supposed to be for a while, until you decided to stay. You got a job, got your own apartment, and settled in.

You never imagined that your story with Derek would unfold, indeed you never thought that he would even look at you with second thoughts. The way you looked at him. But you decided to give each other a chance. And it worked, you were perfect for each other. Until a few months after you started to get involved, you found out that Derek’s one-night stand had resulted in a baby. It happened way before you moved back to the city, but that doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt. It did.

But you learned to deal with it and you were willing to help in Eli’s upbringing. You loved him as if he were your own.

Since your school days you have never been able to call Derek by his name. He never really understood why, but you were too embarrassed to address him by his first name so you chose to call him by his last one. Hale. And everyone got used to it, at one point it even became cute. And even after you were together, you didn’t lose that habit, what you didn’t expect is that your son would use that as his first word.

“morning sunshine. the party is about to begin” you exclaimed excitedly as soon as Peter opened the door and he let out a grunt. He had just woken up.

“jesus, i don’t remember arranging that so early”

“what better way to start the day if not with your adorable nephew”

You said, passing the baby into Peter’s arms, and you could see how his face lit up with the baby’s presence. A smile immediately broke out on his face.

“this is not the first time, so I don’t need to remind you of the rules, also I am very eager to enjoy the day with my boyfriend, so I’m gonna get going” You let out a mischievous smile and Peter rolled his eyes.

“first of all, gross. Second, the Hale’s men are ready to take over the town” you laughed leaving them alone.

***

“okay pal, it’s just you and me and a whole day ahead of us. You have to help me” Peter talked to the baby as if he was understanding. It was comic.

He was preparing breakfast when Malia and Parish arrived at the house.

“check it out, looks like we have company today”

Malia said, changing her voice tone and moving towards the baby. She absolutely hated pda, but when there’s a baby as cute as Eli in the house, she couldn’t help herself.

“thank God you arrived. He is here for like an hour and has cried at least three times” Peter spoke and the couple could see the desperation in his eyes, making them laugh.

“he’s a Hale, it’s not like he’s easy to deal with” Parish said and both Hale’s looked at him with deadly eyes. He laughed and went into the kitchen, trying to get out of they sight “Sorry”

***

“did he just say Hale?” Parish asked as the three looked stunned at the baby playing on the floor.

“i guess so” Malia replied and they could see how Peter was smiling. “look at this, uncle Peter is getting emotional”

“shut up” Malia and Parish couldn’t hold their laugh.

What they could not imagine, was that from that moment on baby Eli would not stop crying and repeating his last name for the rest of the afternoon.

“I think he’s broken” Malia said as she shook some toys in front of the baby on Parish’s arms, trying to get him to stop crying.

“dont be stupid, Malia” Peter said with his hands on his head, he couldn’t stand to hear the child’s crying anymore “okay I’m gonna call Derek”

“he’s gonna get crazy, I don’t think it’s a good idea” Malia warned.

“well I don’t know what else to do” Peter said desperately as Eli continued to mumble the word Hale non-stop. “then I’ll call y/n I’m sure she won’t want to kill me”

You and Derek were in the middle of a make-out session when the phone started ringing. You declined the first time, but the fourth time it was impossible.

“jesus christ Peter, what happened? Is everything okay?” You answered preoccupied and you could see Derek’s watchful eyes. He was listening to the conversation.

“Ok don’t go crazy about it, the baby is fine, I’m the one who isn’t” This only made you even more worried. Derek was already starting to get out of bed and look for his clothes.

“why? What happened?”

“there’s the thing! I don’t know! Eli started to cry and hasn’t stopped for at least a couple of hours”

“did you try-“

“yes I did” he cut you.

“but the-“ you tried to say and he cut you off again.

“i tried absolutely everything that you can imagine”

You could sense the tiredness in Peter’s voice and the baby crying in the background.

“he’s not in pain. I tried that too”

“okay we’re coming to rescue you” you said as you finished getting dressed and noticed Derek grabbing the car keys.

“thanks” he mumbled and you laughed.

“he’s okay baby, don’t worry” you said comforting Derek already in the car and he sighed.

“yeah I know”

As soon as you opened the door, you could see what a mess the house was. Toys everywhere, Malia and Parish sitting on the couch and Peter pacing up and down with a crying baby on his arms. Peter was defeated. Eli had swollen eyes from crying and you could see that he was desolated.

“Hale” Eli muttered and stretched his arms out the second Derek entered his field of vision.

“oh hi baby boy” Derek said walking towards him.

The moment Derek held him in his arms, the crying ceased. His little head rested against Derek’s big shoulders and he was now letting out little sighs.

Your heart melted watching that scene and the urge to cry was huge.

“really?” Peter said and the three of them watched the scene in disbelief.

“so hale is Derek? He kept saying that all afternoon” Parish commented and you nodded.

“I can imagine why” Malia said sarcastically looking at you and you felt your face turn red.

“Well what can I say if he’s just like his mama” You joked and let out a laugh.

All this time the baby was just missing you guys, especially Derek.

He really was just like you.

[k0juki]

♡¸.•*'K0juki's Masterlist'*•.¸♡

Last update: 21. 8. 2024

Requests are OPEN!

Rules

Kimi Räikkönen

• Bodyguard!Kimi

• It's just a vase

• Such a tease *

• Race day

• Finnish

• She fell first, he fell harder trope

• You did great

• His girl

• Birthday boy

Mick Schumacher

Mafia!Mick Schumacher

• Mafia!Mick Schumacher

Charles Leclerc

• Charles dating girl who smokes

• "I believe you"

Max Verstappen

• Mafia!Max headcanons

Mafia!Max Verstappen

• Mafia!Max headcanons

• Revenge

• Carneval night

Lando Norris

Vampire hunter x vampire

• You don't wanna dance?

Joost Klein Eurovision

• Just be yourself

• That's what I like * /favorite/

• Jealous

• Joost's return

• Where have you been?

• Enjoying this moment *

• Wolf in sheep's clothing

• Kisses and cigarettes

• Good things take time /favorite/

Headcanons

• Dating Joost Klein hc.

• Cuddles

• Dad!Joost hc.

• Sleeping hc.

Blurbs

• You're mine

Ski Aggu

• Friends don't do that

Tyler Harrison (Alien: Romulus)

• it's waiting outside

Baby Lasagna Eurovision

Nothing yet...

Luke Castellan

Nothing yet...

Jesse tlou2

• Burned cake

Formula 1 Jesse

• F1 Jesse

Peter (red riding hood 2011)

Nothing yet...

Liam Stewart

• Nothing to worry about

Headcanons

• Sleepy headcanons

Samuel "Sam" Witvicky

(Transformers)

Nothing yet...

Joe Black (Meet Joe Black)

Nothing yet...

Peeta Mellark

Nothing yet...

Finnick Odair

Nothing yet...

Jasper Hale

Nothing yet...

Eric Coulter

Nothing yet...

Four Tobias Eaton

Nothing yet...

Deacon Frost

Nothing yet...

Will add more🩷

---

Kind anons here!

• 13. 5. 2024

• 14. 5. 2024

• 14. 5. 2024

• 14. 5. 2024

My favourite Quotes

Butterflies flying through open windows

Writing tips

General tips

Emotions

Relationship

[cryptfile]

ᝰ FANDOMS I’M CURRENTLY WRITTING FOR:

those marked in colored letters are the ones i’m currently simping on. Feel free to send promps, requests of characters or anything honestly. Always nice to recieve a message! / This list will be updated regularly so you guys can know what i’m into, also, if I forgot someone.

THE BOYS

Billy Butcher, Soldier Boy, Victoria Neuman, Starlight/Annie January, The Deep, A-Train, Frenchie, Sister Sage, Queen Maeve, Firecracker, Homelander, Hughie Campbell, Kimiko.

GEN V

Cate Dunlap, Jordan Li, Sam and Luke Riordan, Marie Moreau, Emma Myers.

HOUSE OF THE DRAGON

Rhaenyra Targaryen, Daemon Targaryen, Alicent Hightower, Jacaerys Velaryon, Aemond Targaryen, Aegon Targaryen, Harwin Strong, Criston Cole.

MARVEL

Loki Laufeyson, Sylvie Laufeydottir, Moonknight x3, Hawkeye/Comic!Clint Barton [recasted as Oliver Jackson-Cohen], Yelena Belova, Kate Bishop, Scarlet Witch/Wanda Maximoff, Pietro Maximoff, Steve Rogers, Matt Murdock/Daredevil, Deadpool, Peter Parker/Spider-Man’s in general, X-Men’s in general, Thor Odinson, Carol Danvers, Tony Stark, Doctor Strange, Bucky Barnes, Fantastic Four, Adam Warlock, Ant Man, Druig, Natasha Romanoff, and more since there are too many characters, feel free to ask!

HARRY POTTER

Remus Lupin [marauders era, post I war, nothing weird], Sirius and Regulus Black [marauders!era], James Potter [usually recasted as Dev Patel], Draco Malfoy, Theodore Nott.

BRIDGERTON

Eloise Bridgerton, Anthony Bridgerton, Benedict Bridgerton, Colin Bridgerton, Francesca Bridgerton, Daphne Bridgerton, Simon Basset, King George.

THE BEAR

Carmy Berzatto, Sydney Adamu, Richie Jerimovich, Luca.

TWILIGHT

Carlisle Cullen, Charlie Swan, Bella Swan, Edward Cullen, Alice Cullen, Rosalie Hale, Emmett Cullen, Jasper Hale, Leah Clearwater, Alec and Jane Vulturi, Benjamin.

YELLOWJACKETS

Natalie Scatorccio, Jackie Taylor, Shauna Sadecki, Van Palmer, Lottie Matthews, Taissa Turner, Misty Quigley.

GRISHAVERSE

Nikolai Lantsov, Kaz Brekker, Alina Starkov, Matthias Helvar, Aleksander Morozova / The Darkling, Nina Zenik, Inej Ghafa, Malyen Oretsev, Zoya Nazyalenski.

DAISY JONES AND THE SIX

Daisy Jones, Karen Sirko, Billy Dunne, Warren Rhodes, Eddie Roundtree.

THE HUNGER GAMES

Peeta Mellark, Finnick Odair, Young!Haymitch Abernathy, Katniss Everdeen, Johanna Mason.

STAR WARS

Anakin Skywalker, Qimir / The Stranger, Kylo Ren [yes, I have a type], Shin Hati, Han Solo.

MISC

Rafe Cameron [OBX], James Beaufort [Maxton Hall], Drew Starkey, Dean and Sam Winchester [Supernatural], Aaron Taylor Johnson in most of his roles aka Kick-Ass or Bullet Train, Robin Buckley [Stranger Things], Steve Harrington [Stranger Things], Rick Flag [DC], Harley Queen [DC], Battinson [DC], Art Donaldson, Mike Faist.