#derek hale angst

[voidpetrova]

all mine — derek hale x reader

☄. *. ⋆

content warnings and genre: swearing, alcohol consumption, p in v sex, vampire!reader, rivalry trope, creampie, sadism, requested fic!!

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

synopsis: he needs recruits for his pack, you need recruits for a pack of your own. the town is big enough for only one supernatural phenomenon, but you refuse to go down without a fight.

✧.*

the night air was thick with tension as you prowled through the dimly lit streets of beacon hills. moonlight spilled onto the asphalt, casting long shadows that danced around you. you were far from the usual supernatural resident of this town. you had no pack, no allegiances, and no high-and-mighty purpose. your existence was fueled by something simpler, more primal—you relished the act of feeding on humans.

stiles and scott, your two unlikely friends, often warned you about the dangers lurking in the supernatural world, and tonight had proven their point. they were your allies in this strange town, and while you didn't exactly need their protection, you enjoyed their company. the trio had faced numerous challenges together, but tonight, you were in the spotlight. derek hale, the brooding alpha werewolf, had been pursuing you relentlessly. he saw you as a potential recruit for his pack, a means to strengthen his power. however, you had no intention of bowing to his authority or becoming a pawn in his game.

tonight, the confrontation reached its climax in a desolate alleyway. derek, muscles rippling beneath his taut skin, blocked your path. the full moon accentuated his fierce demeanor, his eyes gleaming with a predatory glint as he growled, “join my pack, or face the consequences.” you sneered, your lips curving into a wicked smile. your voice dripped with the an almost seductive arrogance as you purred, “consequences? darling, you really don't know who you're dealing with, do you?”

his nostrils flared, and he lunged at you, his claws extended. in the blink of an eye, you moved, a blur of motion, easily sidestepping his attack. his fist struck the brick wall with a resounding thud, creating a shower of debris. the alpha stumbled backward, wincing in pain.

with a self-satisfied smirk, you approached him, your eyes gleaming with a mischievous glint. “derek, darling, let me make something clear. i'm not joining your pack. in fact, i'm here for recruits of my own. i have no noble agenda like yours—i simply have the need to feed.”

derek's rage and frustration were evident, but he couldn't move, couldn't speak. you had compelled him, and he was left powerless to resist. as he helplessly watched you, his hatred slowly morphed into something entirely different—a fascination that burned brighter with each passing moment.

your smile widened, a predatory glint in your eyes. “so, derek, are you curious yet? i have a feeling you and i could have a lot of fun together.”

and in that alleyway, under the watchful gaze of the moon, an unexpected connection began to take root—an alliance fueled by mutual curiosity, defiance, and the allure of the supernatural world that surrounded them.

the tension between you and derek lingered in the air, palpable and charged. he remained on the ground, pinned not by physical force but by your compelling presence. you exuded an aura of enigmatic allure, a dangerous beauty that drew him in like a moth to a flame.

derek's anger, once fierce and unyielding, had transformed into an intricate web of conflicting emotions. he found himself captivated by your honesty, or perhaps it was the brazen way you embraced your darkness that intrigued him. it was a quality he rarely encountered in the supernatural world—a ruthless pragmatism that echoed his own.

his breaths came in shallow, uneven gasps as your words slithered through his mind. he could feel the delicate tendrils of your compulsion wrapping around his thoughts, and he was powerless to resist. there was a raw honesty to your confession, an unapologetic embrace of your true nature that struck a chord within him. “you—you're different," he stammered, struggling to find his voice. "most vampires i've encountered are colder, more ruthless.”

your laughter, like the tinkling of glass against glass, filled the alley. “i assure you, i can be just as ruthless when necessary. but what sets me apart is my honesty. i don't pretend to be something i'm not. i revel in the darkness that courses through my veins.”

the moonlight bathed you in an ethereal glow, casting a halo of radiance around your form. it was a stark contrast to the shadows that clung to derek, a constant reminder of the beast that resided within him. serek's eyes never wavered from yours, and in that moment, he realized that he was drawn to you in a way he couldn't fully comprehend. it was a dangerous attraction, one that defied logic and reason. he knew that aligning himself with you could lead to consequences he couldn't yet foresee, but he was willing to explore this uncharted territory.

with great effort, he pushed himself to his feet, his movements cautious and deliberate. “i won't join your pack,” he said, his tone resolute. “but i won't stand in your way either.”

and so, in that alleyway bathed in moonlight, a fragile truce was born. two supernatural beings, bound by their dark desires and their defiance of the norms of their respective worlds, began a dance of intrigue and temptation. the world of beacon hills had just become a little more complicated, and derek hale found himself entangled in a web of shadows, drawn by the enigmatic allure of the vampire who refused to conform to the rules of their supernatural existence.

in the days that followed that fateful night in the alley, derek found himself unable to shake the allure of your presence. he watched from the shadows as you moved through beacon hills, a graceful and deadly predator in your own right. it was a stark contrast to his own pack, where strength and dominance were measured in more traditional ways.

he observed you with a mixture of fascination and trepidation, like a moth hovering on the edge of a flame. there was a certain elegance to your brutality, a refinement in the way you dispatched your victims. it was as if you took pleasure not only in the act of feeding but also in the artistry of it all.

one evening, he watched you from a distance as you entered a dimly lit bar, the neon sign flickering above the entrance. you sat alone at the bar, a glass of crimson liquid in hand. it was a curious sight—the vampire who reveled in the darkness, seeking solace in the anonymity of a human establishment. derek couldn't help but wonder what thoughts swirled within your enigmatic mind as you sipped your drink.

as the night wore on, he approached the bar, taking a seat a few stools away from you. you acknowledged his presence with a sidelong glance, a faint smile playing at the corners of your lips. the air between you crackled with unspoken tension, a palpable awareness of the connection that was slowly forming.

“you seem to have a fascination with me, derek,” you purred, your voice as smooth as silk. “or is it curiosity?” he didn't respond immediately, choosing instead to study you with those intense, cobalt eyes. “maybe it's a bit of both,” he admitted finally. “you're unlike anyone I've ever met.”

your laughter was low and sultry, sending shivers down his spine. “that's because i refuse to be confined by the rules of our kind. i embrace my nature without apology, and that terrifies some.” derek nodded in understanding. he knew all too well the weight of expectations and the burden of legacy that came with being an alpha. but here, in the presence of a vampire who was unapologetically herself, he felt a sense of liberation, a flicker of something he had long buried beneath layers of responsibility.

days turned into weeks, and your encounters with derek became more frequent. he found himself drawn to your boarding house, a place that exuded both elegance and darkness. the scent of bourbon hung in the air as you sat in solitude, contemplating the world beyond the shadows.

one evening, he joined you on the porch, the creak of the wooden floor beneath his boots breaking the silence. he held out a bottle of bourbon, a silent offering. you accepted it with a nod of appreciation, pouring a generous amount into your glass.

“sometimes,” you began, your voice soft and reflective, “i wonder if it's all worth it. this existence, the darkness that consumes us. but then, i take a sip of this,” you raised your glass, the amber liquid catching the moonlight, “and i remember why i embrace it.” derek studied you, his gaze searching for answers to questions he couldn't quite articulate. “we all have our demons,” he said finally. “our own reasons for living in the shadows.”

a knowing smile tugged at the corners of your lips. “that we do, derek. and perhaps, in each other, we've found a kindred spirit—one who understands the allure of the darkness and the beauty that can be found within it.”

and so, in the quiet moments shared on that moonlit porch, derek hale and the vampire with the seductive allure formed a bond that transcended the boundaries of their supernatural worlds. it was a connection forged in the fires of curiosity and defiance, a fragile thread that held the promise of something deeper, something neither of them had anticipated.

a few weeks into your growing connection with derek, you decided to make a memorable entrance at the local bar. you had a reputation for leaving a lasting impression, and this night would be no exception. the bar was buzzing with activity when you walked in, the dim lighting casting a seductive haze over the patrons. a tray of martinis passed by, and with a swift, graceful movement, you snatched one from it, the crystal glass glistening in your hand. all eyes turned toward you as you made your way through the crowd, exuding an air of effortless confidence.

stiles, always the first to dive headfirst into any opportunity, was the first to approach you. he leaned in intimately from behind, his breath warm against your ear as he whispered, “fancy a game of pool?” you turned to meet his gaze, a wicked gleam in your eyes. “why not?” you replied with a playful smile.

stiles's hand found its way to your waist, his touch possessive as he guided you toward the pool table. as you bent over to line up your shot, he leaned in even closer, his chest pressing against your back. the scent of his arousal hung in the air, and you couldn't help but chuckle at his audacity.

meanwhile, derek watched from a distance, his jaw clenched with a mixture of frustration and jealousy. he could smell Stiles's arousal, and it gnawed at him, igniting a fierce possessiveness deep within him. unable to contain his emotions any longer, he strode forward, his movements predatory. he reached out, firmly snatching your wrist and pulling you away from the pool table and stiles's grasp. with an apologetic glance at stiles, you allowed derek to guide you through the crowded bar and out into a nearby alleyway.

the cold night air hit you both as you stood in the dimly lit alley, the sounds of the bar fading into the background. derek's eyes bore into yours, his voice low and demanding. “you don't belong to anyone, especially not him.” you met his intensity with a challenging gaze of your own. “i don't belong to anyone, derek. i told you, i make my own choices.”

his grip on your wrist tightened, his anger and frustration evident. “i won't let him touch what's mine.” the possessiveness in derek's voice sent a shiver down your spine, and a dangerous smile curled your lips. “oh, der, i'm not anyone's to claim. but perhaps,” you leaned in closer, your lips brushing against his ear, “you can convince me otherwise.”

in the alleyway, amid the tension and desire that crackled in the air, a new layer of complexity was added to your evolving connection with derek. the dynamics within the beacon hills supernatural circle had shifted, and as the night continued, the flames of intrigue and temptation burned brighter than ever.

you liked the way his breath felt on your neck. warm, but still somehow able to raise goosebumps across the surface. it was the same way his touch ignited fire, yet left coldness in its wake. he made you dizzy with his attention to detail, the way he'd leave your head spinning and vision blurry all because he knew exactly what buttons to press and when to press them. he was rough, and yet careful, like every move was calculated in an effort not to cause you unnecessary pain, and he never left any unintentional bruises. he made you feel intoxicated by the taste of his tongue—sometimes, his spearmint toothpaste and sometimes, you. he was god-like, when he had you like that, and you knew he liked the power trip—to feel superior in this one part of his life he could control.

he pressed his lips against yours, stubble prodding at your soft cheeks as his lips melted against yours. it started off slow and sensual, but only for a splot second. his right hand grabbed your wrists, pinning them above your head as he pushed you into the wall. you struggled against his touch, but against the lust that fueled his every move, you were unable to pull your wrists out of his grip.

“you're not going anywhere,” he purred against your ear. you struggled some more, but for the first time in forever, you gave up. you gave up and succumbed to him. “just like that, that's good.” you stopped resisting, finally melting into his touch completely. he smiled against the crook of your neck, stubble littering goosebumps against his skin as he peppered kisses against your neck. you bit back a moan when the kissing turned into sucking, his teeth pulling on your soft skin, popping vessels and leaving bruises that threatened to stay for a while.

you felt weak under his touch, the hairs on your neck standing up as you felt the straps of your tank top slide down your arms. derek's rough, veiny fingers hooked each strap as he pulled them down, revealing your lacy bra as you slipped out of the top. he couldn't help but grunt at the sight of your tits bursting out of your bra, his hands involuntarily rushing to your boobs. he could only toy with them in awe, your moans bringing him pleasure. never had you been able to imagine yourself so powerless, especially not in his presence.

“what's the matter, princess?” he practically taunted, his voice thick with lust as he licked the outline of one of your breasts, the tip of his tongue tracing your nipple before engulfing it whole. “cat got your tongue?” you couldn't help but tug at his locks of black hair, a gasp passing your lips despite your best efforts to bite back your moans.

“i've had better, hale,” you retorted, a small smirk painting your lips as his piercing gaze shot upwards, meeting yours. he was all but pleased with your answer, and he proved that by tugging at your nipple with his teeth, provoking a sensation that was flooded with pain and pleasure. it was his turn to smirk.

he had you crying in a matter of seconda. he had his palm splayed over your mouth, your cute little cries muffled while he bullied his thick cock into your pussy. your nails scraped at his back, marking his broad muscles with your desperation. he was so big and mean—didn't let you move, didn't let you speak, whispering in your ear, telling you to take it. to take what's yours and be his good little bitch. he bit your neck, running his teeth along your skin, telling you all you’re good for is warming his cock. when he finally lost himself in the feeling of your fleshy cunt squeezing around his dick, he told you to pick a number. “six,” you barely managed a whisper. he forced you to count all his hard strokes in your cunt until tears started to spill onto the slope of your cheeks, until you were gritting your teeth at how deep he was fucking you, until you were finally screaming as he came, spilling his white sticky cum into the used pocket of your pussy.

“you okay?” he asked, his voice soft and low, little strands of hair clinging to his forehead while he stared at the way his cum spilled out your pussy, dripping lewdly into your soft, moist folds. you nodded weakly, gasping as he collected the cum out of your pussy onto his finger, licking the sticky white liquid with a sadistic smile.

he knew that if you were still conscious, he must not have gone hard enough.

#tw #teen wolf #teen wolf smut #teen wolf imagine #teen wolf angst #teen wolf fluff #teen wolf x reader #derek hale #derek x reader #derek hale x reader #derek hale smut #derek hale angst #derek hale fluff #derek hale x reader smut

[soulofapatrick]

Rebuilding - Derek Hale x female reader

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

Words: 1.8k

warnings: none really; heavy making out

Notes: I can make a smutty part two

Y/N’s POV

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

                           ┈ ✁✃✁✃✁✃✁✃✁ ┈

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TAGS

@bellabadacadabra

#derek hale #derek hale oneshot #Derek hale x reader #Derek hale x you #Derek hale x y/n #Derek hale fluff #Derek hale smut #Derek hale angst #Derek hale Drabble #Derek hale imagine #teen wolf #tw #teen wolf x female reader #Derek hale x female reader #teen wolf x reader #teen wolf x you #teen wolf x y/n #teen wolf smut #teen wolf fluff #teen wolf angest #tyler hoechlin #Tyler hoechlin x reader

[teenwolffan-with-nolife]

can u write one where Derek and the reader get reunited after. Along time, like he faked his death or smthng and they’re rely mad at him or smthng

thanks for requesting!

"You're not real."

Your entire body was tense as you looked at Derek standing in front of you, finding it hard to believe.

"I'm real-"

"No, you're not. Derek died last year. I don't know who the fuck you are, but this isn't funny. Leave us alone now."

Your gun laid on the table next to you, you quickly grabbed it, aiming it at Derek as he tensed.

"You have every right to be mad, but please just..."

He took a step closer to you as you cocked the gun, keeping strong.

It couldn't be real.

"No, that's not Derek," you could feel the tears rushing to your eyes as you looked away from the body, looking back at Scott.

"I found him like this. He's been dead for at least two weeks," you shook your head in disbelief, stumbling back slightly.

"I don't know what type of sick prank this is supposed to be-"

"It's not a fucking prank, (Y/N) just look," Stiles took your phone from you, dialing Derek's number.

You could hear the phone buzzing from the counter, feeling your heart dropping.

You couldn't believe it.

"Stiles-"

"I'm sorry." you looked at the tears in both of their eyes, shaking your head.

"No, h-he can't... we were..." you could feel the air leaving you as more and more tears rushed to your eyes, feeling your heart in your throat.

"I had to keep you safe, (Y/N). I didn't want it to be like this," you could feel slight tears in your eyes as your hands shook slightly, remembering the events of last year.

"Prove you're Derek," your voice shook slightly.

"I know that we've known each other forever. I was there for you when you ran away. Your birthday's May 5th, you always picked on the fact that you're 7 months older than me. I know you've always wanted a family but you were too scared because of how dangerous everything in our lives was. I remember all the songs on your CD, your mom gave them to you before she died and you never go anywhere without them. I know that we were supposed to get married 9 months ago, but... I wasn't here," your hands were shaking as you lowered your gun, exhaling shakily.

"You... you've been alive this whole time?" you whimpered.

He nodded softly, while you shook your head.

"You couldn't reach out to me, could you? You couldn't have sent me one fucking text or a fucking call to let me know you were alive and okay?" there was slight anger in your voice, you could see the pain in Derek's face.

"I couldn't tell anyone. I'm sorry-"

"You think you can just apologize for making me grieve you and think you were dead for a whole year?!" you exclaimed.

"Yes, because we love each other. I know I... I'm here now and I'm sorry," he said.

You scoffed, laughing bitterly before shaking your head.

"Of course, you think that we can go back to how everything was before like this past year didn't happen, right?"

"(Y/N)."

"You have no idea how this past year has been on me, on any of us. How could you put me through something like this? If you love me so much how could you do this to me?" your voice broke, tears rushing down your face.

You could feel the anger leaving you, sadness taking over.

"(Y/N), I'm sorry. Please just forgive me." Derek begged, putting his hands on your shoulders.

You pulled away, shaking your head.

"I think you should leave," you said.

"(Y/N), please don't-"

"I think you need to go," you repeated once more, as he sighed, before nodding.

"I'll be back tomorrow and every day after that. I'm sorry, I'll do whatever I need to in order to get your trust back," you stayed stiff as he spoke, your tears falling.

He stroked your cheek softly, giving you a small smile.

"Bye," you didn't reply, keeping still as he made his way out the door, looking back at you before walking away.

You wrapped your arms around yourself, letting out a quiet sob as you fell to your knees.

All the pain from the past year hit you once more, leaving you feeling worse than ever before.

---

"You didn't tell her what happened," Scott gave Derek a look as he sat in the car, while he exhaled slowly.

"She needs some time-"

"No, she's gonna feel even worse if you tell her everything that happened. You should've told her now," Stiles added in.

"No. Shut up and drive, Scott." Derek's eyes flashed blue, earning an eye roll from the two boys.

He looked away from them, staring out the window, listening in to your broken cries as they drove off.

Nothing could hurt him more than listening to your cries, not being able to hold you.

Taglist:

@bellabadacadabra

@sonnydoesrandomshit

@aprilfire18

@Confuscita

@asheradamsbicep

@teen-wolf-obsessed4life

@eunoia-kth

@angelgtzdar

@mrs-woodwesleyobrien

@shortimaginewriter

@linkpk88

@lokisgoldscepter

@Mrs-scottmccall

@thetiny-hufflepuff

@gabbyper1215

@noncannonships

@mystic-writings

@tinyprettyevil

@thetiny-munchkin

@primswan

@lilianareads

@thedumbgirl

@Msrawog

@cevans-winchester

@ssa-volturi

@katherinepetrovawife

@sarcastic-sourwolf

@lelapine

@deepsketchsupernaturalcowboy

@alexxavicry

@onyourgoddamnleft

@Leelizzz

@hoodforcalum

@raynelbabe

#teen wolf #teen wolf angst #teen wolf fics #derek hale #derek hale imagine #derek hale x reader #teen wolf text #teen wolf fic #derek hale angst #derek #derek hale x reader angst #teen wolf fanfiction #teen wolf imagines #derek hale x platonic!reader #derek hale fluff #derek hale text #derek hale x y/n #derek hale imagines #teen wolf imagine #derek hale imagine angst

[hedwig394]

The Piece That Doesn't Fit

Derek Hale x Sarah McCall

Timeline: After the last episode of Teen Wolf: Season 2

Derek's POV-

Sarah sleeps in my arms peacefully. Idly stroking her arm, I look at the ceiling and then back at her head, which is lying on my chest. I wonder what she thinks when she looks at me. I wonder why she trusts me. I kiss her head, whatever the reason is, I'm grateful that she does.

Gerard is dying, quite fast compared to cancer, according to what Chris said. He deserves it. I'm not big on forgiveness, and I haven't forgiven Allison either, but that's a story for another day. Everything else in the world can wait, I just want to be here with Sarah.

I have no one in my pack now, I realise. It's only Isaac, but he's more loyal to Scott. And I don't want to fight with Scott again, not after I've seen what it does to Sarah. Being torn between her brother and her boyfriend isn't the best place to be, and she used to be so frustrated and angry at everything.

Words flash into my mind for the hundredth time after the fight, words belonging to Gerard Argent. I'd rather never think of the bastard, but what he said feels like it's true.

"Scott, don't. You know that he's gonna kill me right after. He'll be an Alpha." I plead. Scott doesn't listen. He walks towards me determinedly, and Sarah yells, "Scott stop!" She tries to run towards us but the kanima throws Allison to the ground and grabs Sarah's throat instead.

My own death doesn't scare me more than that monster's hand around Sarah's throat. She isn't giving up, though. My brave, strong woman. My heavenly fire, she isn't giving up even in the face of imminent death.

"That's true... But I think he already knows that, don't you, Scott?" Gerard says, smirking. "He knows that the ultimate prize is Allison. Do this small task for me, and they can be together."

Sarah looks at her brother with disbelief, her eyes slowly flood with tears. "Scott...don't." She chokes. But her brother doesn't stop. He walks towards me, and I've never imagined a day where I'm afraid of Scott. But today is that day.

"Scott if anything happens to Derek, I'll never forgive you!" Sarah shouts, tears streaming down her beautiful face.

I try to reach for her, but can't. Listening to my name from her mouth feels like a declaration of love, and the fact that she's willing to go against her own brother for me makes me feel more loved than I have ever been. But it also makes me feel shameful. She's going against her brother for me.

Scott gives her a pleading look before sinking his claws in my neck. I groan in pain as he hauls me up.

"How very touching," Gerard says, looking at Sarah with malice. "You are the only piece that doesn't fit, Derek. And, in case you haven't learned yet, there is just no competing with young love." He spits at me.

Scott forces me to bite Gerard's arm and drops me to the cold ground. But I never hit it because two soft yet strong arms wrap around me, cushioning my fall. I collapse in Sarah's arms, resting my head on her shoulder. Sarah holds me tightly and whispers, "Don't worry. I'm here for you."

She is. I wrap both arms around her, inhaling her scent. She is here for me. She shouldn't be. What have I ever done to deserve her?

That's the same thought in my head as I reel out of the memory and look at her again. She stirs as if woken by the gravity of thoughts. Holding me tighter, she doesn't have to even look at me before saying, "Can't sleep?"

I pretend to be asleep, but she says, "Don't pretend. I may not be a werewolf but I can detect when you're not asleep."

"Fine," I grumble, turning to my side so that I'm spooning her now. "I can't sleep. Happy?" I kiss her shoulder and inhale her scent of vanilla and jasmine.

"Of course, I'm not 'happy'." She says, turning around to look at me. "Tell me why you're awake. You're supposed to be asleep."

"I know." I sigh, "I was watching you sleep."

"Right. And that's not creepy at all."

I laugh. "You look beautiful when you sleep. Your mouth's slightly open, and you hold me close to yourself. Of course, I'd love to see that."

Sarah blushes. Even after we've been together for months, she still blushes every time I say something romantic to her. She pulls a straight face again, and says, "Hey! You can't distract me by being romantic. Tell me, what's keeping you awake?"

"Nothing," I say, shrugging. She doesn't believe me. "I'm not stupid, Der."

"It's nothing, Sarah." I say, "Go back to sleep."

"I will once you do." She says adamantly.

Even when I don't want to, I turn my back on her, facing the other side. She hugs me from behind and says, "Tell me. What's bothering my Sourwolf?"

Stiles Fucking Stilinski. He gave me that nickname long ago and Sarah loved how mad I got because of it. So much so that even she calls me that.

I don't get mad at her when she calls me that, but still, it's obnoxious.

"Is it what Gerard said?" She asks, and my silence gives her the answer.

"Der, look at me." She says. I turn around and she kisses me. I kiss her back, pulling her on top of me. She breaks the kiss and lays her head on my chest again. I sigh contentedly.

"He was wrong when he said that," She murmurs, and I shake my head, "Was he? I think he was right. I don't fit among you guys, Sarah. I don't fit in Scott's perfect pack, not the traumatised, rude wolf, no."

Sarah doesn't say anything for a long time, and I almost think she has fallen asleep. But then she says, "Not yet."

I scoff. "You think's Scott gonna wanna want me as his ally? After we've been hating each other for months?"

"If there's anything my brother excels at, it's forgiveness." Sarah says slowly, "You may not be a part of Scott's pack, but that doesn't make you insignificant, Der."

I'm sure that she does not want to see me wallow in self-pity, but I can't help but say, "Gerard said otherwise."

"Since when do you take the old hog hag's words seriously?" She chides and I almost laugh. She's right, I shouldn't take Gerard seriously. But I cannot help it. I can't help but doubt if his words are true. Sarah would never let me believe it, but I do feel insignificant.

I turn around, and hug her. What would I do without her? When I came back to Beacon Hills, my sole purpose and focus was finding out who killed Laura, and leaving immediately after.

But then I saw two boys trudging around my house, one of them too noisy and the other wheezing from asthma. When the latter lost his inhaler, I had hoped that he wouldn't come back. I don't want anyone near my house.

But they did. And not just them this time, with them was a woman. Great, I had said to myself, I did not script in more guests. But then I saw her face, only from afar, but my breath was stolen out of my lungs. After a long time, I found myself smiling.

Sarah tries not to fall asleep, and I kiss her. She kisses me back and gives me a goofy smile. But then her face turns serious again.

"Gerard did whatever damage he could." She says grimly, "He said what he wanted to. And Derek, there are going to be people in your life who'll say some pretty mean shit to you."

"And I should rip their throat out." I say nonchalantly and she rolls her eyes, "No. How many people would you kill?" She asks me, and doesn't wait for an answer, "You know what, I actually don't wanna know."

I chuckle and she smiles at me softly.

"My point is," She says, "People talk. One day about one person, and the next day about the other. You cannot silence everyone. You cannot control what you hear, but you can control what you listen to."

I blink. That was a very heavy statement.

"Don't listen to people who don't care about you." She shrugs, "Listen to those who actually care about you."

"Like who?" I tease, stroking her thigh.

"Oh, fuck you." She yawns, "I'm sleepy. Not tonight."

I laugh. As much as I would like to tear our clothes apart and bury myself inside her, she's right. Even I'm getting sleepy.

"And just because someone said something doesn't make it necessarily true." She says and kisses my cheek. "I know it's easy to talk about all of this and much more difficult to actually implement it, you have to try."

Her hair fan her face, and I stroke them away as I plant a kiss on her head. There she is. My paramour. Capable of understanding me.

I keep her hand on my heart, wishing that she'd be able to feel what I cannot say. Feel what runs through my veins, feel that every single beat of my heart calls her name.

She's right. As much as I still feel like an oddball, I feel different with Sarah. With her in my arms, I feel like I'm home. I feel that I fit in, in her company. In her arms. In her life.

#teen wolf #teen wolf fan fic #teen wolf fanfiction #teen wolf fanfic #incorrect teen wolf quotes #derek hale #derek hale fanfiction #derek hale fanfic #derek hale love #derek hale one shot #derek hale smut #derek hale fluff #derek hale x reader #derek hale x sarah mccall #derek hale imagine #derek hale angst #imagine #oneshot #fanfiction #fanfic

[marriedtobigfoot]

I'm about to be really controversial right now...Derek Hale would be a secret Swiftie. No, I am not taking criticism at this time.

#this message is brought to you by the song “The Best Day” #It came on and all i could picture was Derek randomly hearing it on the radio and having to pull the car over and take some deep breaths #Derek Hale #Derek Hale angst #Teen Wolf #sterek adjacent #He would also listen to the love songs and feel weird about just who they make him think of

[teencopandthesourwolf]

He freezes. Doesn't know what the hell else to do. 

He can't picture it: Derek can't remember the last time somebody put their arms around him. 

Was it Laura?

Of course it was Laura. How could he forget that? Derek has gotten pretty good at blocking things out—a little too good, it seems.

She didn't tell him she was going before she left New York. Didn't say a fucking word, just vanished. Derek had woken up one morning and she was gone. She'd known without doubt that Derek would only follow her if she had said a single word to him.

Nobody ever granted Derek’s wishes, no matter who he prayed to. The desperate pleas where he asked to go back and get a chance to fix things, they all went unheard.

Laura left to go back to the place they both wished still existed just as it had; a place they were wanted alive, not dead. It wasn't fair that it was the very same place they would be hunted down if they did return, like the rabid animals the Argent's presumed they were.

Leaving the way they did meant they hadn't gotten the chance to see if anything was left at the house. They couldn't mark graves, or grieve properly. 

That same place also happened to be the place they'd been born, the place they'd grown up and called home.

Derek had never wanted Laura to face all of that alone.

The burnt down house. The nothing where there was once everything.

The thought still haunts him. One of so fucking many. 

Beacon Hills is home—but it's the home Derek had helped raze to the ground with his selfishness and stupidity. Everything he and Laura had ever known, everyone they'd ever loved, it was all gone, now. Derek had taken those things away from his sister and hadn't even had the guts to tell her. Tell Laura they were all gone because of him, tell her that everything that had happened to their family, to them, was all his fault.

In the aftermath of the fire Laura hugged Derek, and had kept hugging him, over and over in those weeks and months and years that followed. She would pull him into her arms hold him tight, whenever she could sense it was all getting to be too much for him again.

Alpha.

Big sister.

But Laura only knew about some of the reasons why it sometimes felt like too much effort for Derek to keep on breathing.

He never told her about Kate.

And Derek, the fucking coward, he'd allowed Laura to hold him, feeling the flames of shame on his cheeks every time, hot as those that took the lives of his parents. His family. His pack. 

Now, he remembers that last time. 

“I'm going out.” 

Laura stood up, walked around the two mismatched armchairs and stopped him by throwing both her arms around his neck, pulling him into her and hugging him, scenting him. 

It always took him a moment to respond these days, but Derek hugged her back. 

“What's this for?”

“You. Because I know whomever's bed you end up in tonight, you won't be asking for one of these.”

Oh, fuck no. Derek couldn't handle that. Did she think he was out sleeping with people? Never again, not after…

He pushed his sister off him, gently; a stark contrast to the harsh words that followed. 

“Don't fucking coddle me. And fuck you, Laura—I don't sleep in anybody's fucking bed but my own.” A single mattress on the floor of the lounge of their shitty one bedroom apartment. Derek had so many shameful memories, and crawling into his sister's bed every night for the first year after the fire was one of them. “Just—leave me alone.”

Laura was the one—the only—person Derek had left in the entire world, yet his guilt was constantly pushing her away. 

“Then where do you go to all these nights, little brother? You might not be clinging to me anymore, night after night, nightmare after nightmare, but you're so rarely in your own bed in the mornings.” She hadn't meant it as a dig. She was his sister and she loved him.

Maybe she thought he was making progress? Seeing people. Moving on.

Derek spent his nights waiting outside of dive bars, hanging around in back alleys and dark places, desperately trying to find scumbags he could taunt who were big enough and hard enough to at least attempt to kick the living shit out of him.

Derek hated being a werewolf, now. He wanted to get hurt and stay hurt.

“Just—out.”

Then Derek turned his back on Laura, leaving her to stand there and watch him walk away as he left her to go out looking for a fight, without looking back. 

That was the last time somebody put their arms around Derek—and the last time he saw his sister alive.

It was two years ago. Derek doesn’t think he has taken a full breath, since. 

Now here he is, standing in his big stupid loft that he bought for his betas—yet another pack he managed to destroy—having given away more than he should, with skinny yet strong arms wrapping themselves as far around his shoulders as they can reach. 

Stiles.

“You don't have to hug back. But you can, if you want to. I won't tell,” the kid jokes. It's his way to connect, his connection to the world. A coping mechanism, Derek thinks.

He knows all about those.

“I…” he doesn't have the first fucking clue of how to handle this. Or how to admit he needs it—to himself, let alone somebody else. He doesn't know how to admit that he wants it. 

But this is Stiles. The one person in Derek's life who seems, for some unfathomable reason, to give a fuck about Derek. To care about him.

Slowly, very slowly, Derek lifts an arm and awkwardly rests a hand on Stiles's upper back, feels the muscles jump slightly under the kid's baggy clothes as he tentatively spreads his fingers and finds the back of Stiles's neck. 

Stiles's voice hitches just a touch as he says, “These can be on tap, you know. If you want them. Stilinski hugs are the best hugs, dude. Believe.”

And Derek finds he does believe. For the first time in forever, Derek believes there could be something good in his life again.

More confidently, now, he brings his other arm up to wrap around Stiles's waist and hugs Stiles tighter, properly, and allows himself to be hugged back.

Derek wonders how he has gone so long without this kind of closeness. Lived without this kindness.

He decides to let the 'dude' pass. Because maybe—maybe it wouldn't be so bad after all, to be somebody's dude? 

Stiles's dude.

It's a fucking ridiculous moniker and yet Derek suddenly couldn't care less. 

“I think I'd like that,” he whispers into the forbidden place where Stiles's jaw meets long, pale neck. "Dude."

Derek can feel Stiles's smile as the kid squeezes him harder. And, ironically, Derek feels as if he can breathe again. 

.

for @greyhavenisback bc i want to hug you in person and can't <3 (unedited, forgive me!)

#sterek #sterek ficlet #sterek fic #sterek oneshot #POV derek #derek hale #stiles stilinski #derek x stiles #stiles x derek #m/m #queer fic #teen wolf #teen wolf fic #sterek fanfic #sterek fanfiction #teen wolf fanfic #teen wolf fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #fic #laura hale #derek and laura #hale pack feels #angst #hurt/comfort #hugs #derek hale deserves nice things #stiles stilinski is a nice thing #tcats writes #teencopandthesourwolf

[celestialvoid-fanfiction]

Imagine Derek going to visit his family’s graves and he sees Stiles laying flowers on them. He approaches quietly, trying not to startle Stiles and says he's always wondered who put the flowers there because he wanted to thank them. He admits he hasn’t been able to bring himself to lay flowers on their graves since they were buried because he feels like he’s back at their funeral(s) and the pain is too much.

#my friend sent me a disturbing video about sea cucumbers so I sent her this #sterek #sterek au #eternalsterek #sterek imagine #imagine sterek #hale family #sterek angst #angsty sterek #stiles stilinski #derek hale

[wheredidhiseyebrowsgo]

Sry I know you probably have a lot of asks so no rush or anything- but if you had any Fics where people always acted annoyed or told stiles to shut up when he would talk a lot and then when he’s quiet the get like unnerved or feel bad or like smth like that

Yeah!

A Little Less Conversation by sweetbutterbliss

(1/1 I 1,316 I Teen I Sterek)

From anon on tumblr "A prompt if you are interested. Derek telling Stiles to shut up, like usual, but then, to the surprise of everyone, he does. And continues to do it, never speaking in Derek's presence and asking the pack to warn him when Derek arrives. Derek then needs to find a way to get the spastic kid to START talking."

An Understanding Passed In Silence by cjr 

(1/1 I 4,4464 I General i Sterek)

It started off as something of a joke. One moment he was talking Scott’s ear off about some homework assignment and Scott made a joke that Stiles couldn’t spend a day without talking if he tried.

I Can't Heal You (but I'll hold you) by Sophtly

(1/1 23,327 I Mature I Sterek)

After the Nogitsune leaves Stiles a shell of his former self, Derek decides to take him on a road trip out of Beacon Hills.

#teen wolf #sterek #stiles stilinski #derek hale #hurt/comfort #angst #fluff

[teenwolftuesdaytrash]

Derek stands by the window and watches as Stiles’ reflection appears and leans by the doorframe.

He ran away from their conversation (confrontation?) earlier, and Stiles is kind enough to follow at a more sedate pace.

Derek expects a reprimand, a word vomit of how not-okay it is to just run off mid very important conversation. But Stiles keeps quiet, arms crossed, face carefully neutral. He looks unimpressed by his tantrum but determined to patiently wait him out.

The rush of confusion and jumbled mess of thoughts in his head make Derek cave in.

“I don’t even know you,” he continues from where he left off earlier, “but I remember…I remember loving you.

He can see Stiles hold his breath.

“I remember a pool,” Derek goes on, “I remember you and me in a car with my arm bleeding. I remember watching you leave.”

He looks away from Stiles’ reflection and into the trees.

“I remember leaving. And then staying. For you.”

Derek clenches his hands into fists, his claws coming out and digging into his palm as the frustrating block of darkness sips into his mind again.

“I can’t remember who I am, where I am, or anything else. I don’t remember you. But I remember loving you.”

He wants to look at Stiles again, but also not. He chooses the latter as he gives in to the question at the tip of his tongue.

“Did you…love me, too?”

“Yes.”

Stiles is standing straighter when Derek whips around to face him and his answer. His arms are now at his sides, and there’s a furrow between his brows as he takes a careful step towards Derek.

“Yes, but you didn’t know. I didn’t tell you,” he keeps walking towards Derek until they’re much closer in front of each other, “and you never told me.”

There’s a challenge and confrontation in those last words, but Derek doesn’t have an answer. Only more questions.

“So what does that make us?” he asks. Because Stiles is the one with the answers, Derek also remembers that.

Stiles gives him a look of disbelief for a moment, an unspoken how dare you turn this on me on the upturn of his brow and the slight opening of his lips.

Then he drops his head, huffs, a disguised laugh Derek thinks.

“That makes us two morons who have a lot to talk about. And a lot of dates to go on.”

Stiles shakes his head and gives Derek another look. He searches for something there, seems to find it.

Then, without any more hesitation, he takes Derek’s hand and leads him back out of the room, “after we get your memory back, you big failwolf.”

Derek remembers how easy it is to just hold onto Stiles and follow.

Part 2

#sterek #derek hale #stiles stilinski #angst #drabble #amnesia #amnesiac!derek

[hedwig221b]

TREASURE | sterek | 71k | Explicit - AO3

Angst, beautiful soft and insecure Stiles, possessive and protective alpha Derek, the sweetest baby Eli, courting, murder

Summary:

“I know you don’t trust me,” Derek grunted. When Stiles inhaled to retort, Derek caught his chin and pressed a finger against his lips, making the boy freeze in place, eyes impossibly wide. “Don’t argue. I expected it. Wolves don’t trust easily, too. I just wanted you to know that… I’m sorry. I was selfish and didn’t see what was in front of me. You don’t need to worry. I’ll take care of everything.”

It was a thought that grew in his mind, spread to his heart and took root there, reincorporating into a deep desire and a vital need. Derek will take care of him and his little pup, he’ll bring the hearts of his enemies and put them at the boy’s feet. He’ll court and he’ll conquer.

#sterek #sterek fic #sterek fanfiction #stiles x derek #derek x stiles #eternal sterek #sterek angst #sterek fic rec #sterek fanfic #eli stilinski hale #my fics #sterek ao3 #stiles stilinski #derek hale

[undercoverbastard]

Judging a Derek by His Cover

“Seriously? You have to ask?” Stiles asked, in a bit of a disbelieving tone. “I mean I-... have you seen you? Resisting you sounds impossible, Derek, I mean seriously. I don’t think anyone in their right mind would tell you no if you gave them even a second look that’s- that’s impossible, you’re-”

Derek had already begun to tune out, a sick feeling crawling from the pit of his stomach upwards. He had grabbed for his shoes, fumbling slightly as he slid them on, in the middle of Stiles’ rambling. Before the other could continue, Derek waved away the rest with a nod.

“Right, right - you’re not… blind,” Derek interrupted. Stiles seemed a bit stunned at the overly neutral tone. Moving past Stiles without looking him properly in the eye, Derek mumbled about needing to get ready. Stiles attempted to stop him, his voice going low once the door opened, but it was of no use.

+.+.+

OR: a fic from the vaults, inspired by modern-day royalty au, derek’s penchant for being sought after just for his looks, and im not sure what else was going on in my brain at the time tbh

Word Count: 4387

———

“I have to get ready,” Derek said, pushing himself up and out of the bed. He sighed, sitting on the edge, staring at his hands a bit blankly. He wished he could freeze time - stay in moments like these. These moments are stolen in between chores and tasks, family and staff. He didn’t want to have to leave.

“Oh?” Stiles asked, stretching out lazily, tucking his hands behind his head. “What’s on the agenda today, sir prince?”

The tone was teasing but it made Derek cringe. Another reminder. He didn’t hate his position or his family or his people or any of it - he loved Beacon and his family was amazing and he adored being able to be a part of what made all of it. But, his position - his title - came with limitations. Expectations.

“Some gathering,” Derek mumbled, ducking his head a bit lower, “my mom says it’s in celebration of the peace treaties - ten years this week. But…”

“But…?” Stiles prompted, moving to curl behind Derek, his chin resting on a pillow as he gazed up at the other’s face. Derek cut his eyes to the side, letting the slightest of smiles curve across his lips before it fell off again. That was another one of Stiles’ talents - his ability to make Derek laugh and smile, no matter the day or its events.

“But,” Derek gathered a deep breath, “she’s been hinting at… socializing, at dating. She keeps bringing up names and countries and heirs and… I don’t know. She keeps mentioning Braeden and just…”

Stiles moved away, crawling up to a sitting position himself. Derek cast a look back at the other, waiting for some sort of response. It took a minute, Stiles facing away from him and seemingly fiddling with his shirt and hair. When he turned back he had a wide grin, cheeky and teasing.

“Oh you’ll do fine, Der, who could ever resist you? Huh?” Stiles said, giving him a nod of appreciation. It made Derek’s throat dry up, a reminder creeping in.

“Resist me…” Derek repeated a bit dumbly, staring now to the side of Stiles’ head, looking unseeingly out the window on the opposite side of the room. He heard Stiles give a huff of laughter, saw the shaking of his head from his peripheral.

“Obviously,” Stiles scoffed, “they’d have to be blind!” And that’s when Derek’s blood ran a bit cold, color draining from his face ever so slightly. “Anyways, I should - uh- get going. Let you get ready for the party and all that.”

Stiles stood up, fingers carding through his hair before tugging at and smoothing down his shirt. They’d laid lazily in the spare room for hours, taking turns carding fingers through one another’s hair, biting lingering kisses into one another’s lips, straddling each other’s laps as they got lost in the quietness disturbed only by soft groans and gasps. It had been bliss, those couple hours together. It was one of the only times Derek didn’t feel like he was on display or out of place to some degree. It felt right. Comfortable.

Staying quiet, Derek watched as Stiles stood up, slipping his shoes back on and fretting over his clothes again. He was always busy, mind and body in constant motion even if it didn’t make sense. It used to infuriate Derek when Stiles first began working in the library - he could never focus with the other’s mumbles and murmurs and humming and moving. It was chaotic in the smallest of ways. Now, though, he felt restless if Stiles didn’t move - his skin felt prickled if the younger man stayed still too long, a wrongness about it.

Before Stiles could open the door and sneak a look outside before he darted out, Derek asked, “Why didn’t you?”

Stiles paused, looking at the other in confusion and a half tilt of his head. “Why… why didn’t you resist me or - turn me down? Why?” Derek elaborated. His voice held steady and sounded normal but his heart was lodged in his throat and the tips of his fingers felt numb.

The question at least gave Stiles pause. He stepped back closer in the room, an incredulous look on his face once his mind seemed to catch up. He began waving, hands exaggeratedly emphasizing the length of Derek’s form still sitting on the bed before he gave an answering huff.

“Seriously? You have to ask?” Stiles asked, in a bit of a disbelieving tone. “I mean I-... have you seen you? Resisting you sounds impossible, Derek, I mean seriously. I don’t think anyone in their right mind would tell you no if you gave them even a second look that’s- that’s impossible, you’re-”

Derek had already begun to tune out, a sick feeling crawling from the pit of his stomach upwards. He had grabbed for his shoes, fumbling slightly as he slid them on, in the middle of Stiles’ rambling. Before the other could continue, Derek waved away the rest with a nod.

“Right, right - you’re not… blind,” Derek interrupted. Stiles seemed a bit stunned at the overly neutral tone. Derek always spoke in an even manner, known for being a bit brasher in his tone than others but fairly neutral and even overall - it was a mark of the Hale family, after all. To be balanced in all ways. He couldn’t risk being too nice or too rude. He may toe the line of overly curt and brash but he was never outright cold with his words. But even he could hear it - the change in his voice. It was exceptionally vague - not a hint of brashness. He was as even as his mother in her political discussions - unreadable.

Moving past Stiles without looking him properly in the eye, Derek mumbled about needing to get ready. Stiles attempted to stop him, his voice going low once the door opened, but it was of no use. Even the soft touch to Derek’s shoulder as he stepped out slid off with just a single step, allowing the steadily growing wall between them to commence.

Derek tried not to think about it. Shoved the thoughts out of his mind as he left the mostly empty hall and trailed back to his own room. He shouldn’t have thought Stiles would be interested in anything else besides his looks. It was, after all, his saving grace. After Kate’s stunt years back, most people averted their eyes - unable to meet Derek’s. It lingered with some, but it only took a year or two at most before he was once more a display.

Giggling visitors from other countries bashfully complimented him on how handsome he was, eyes raking up and down his body at parties and celebrations. Tabloids posted dozens of photos whenever he left the palace - endless remarks of his looks and how well clothes fit him and how others were sure the good looks didn’t stop at just his face pouring from every media outlet in the country and even in others.

He was used to it. He smiled his practiced smile, knew when to bow his head and murmur thanks. He was used to the squeezes to his bicep when being requested to dance and the lingering eyes of his partners. But that was it. Even Kate had said so when she still played the part of smitten girlfriend.

She’d tease him for his quiet nature and his lack of ability to feed into normal conversations. He could talk policy as needed and he had a plethora of books surrounding philosophers, history, and even art at his disposal - but they were drab topics outside of negotiations and proper business. And even if the analysis of Picasso’s The Old Guitarist was one Derek found interesting and showed the necessity of the arts and their value to civilizations old and new, Kate didn’t want to hear about it. Besides, even with his most impassioned topics on the table he still was a man of few words. Part of that came from being the son of the reigning Queen of Beacon, another part came from Kate’s backhanded nature.

Either way, it didn’t matter. Derek earned his keep with his looks. He was a nice face to look at and a figure that harnessed desire. Either no one cared what else he might be able to offer or his lack of personality drove them back to their distanced gazes. Just because Stiles could quote at least one line from every book Derek has ever picked up since he started working in the library and just because Stiles had enough words for five people let alone a conversation of two didn’t mean he wouldn’t be the same.

It was to be expected.

+.+.+

Several hours later found Derek in one of his more casual attires but one fit for a prince nonetheless. The party and celebration were not one for hosting political affairs - they were for rejoicing. Sure, it was shared amongst several other visiting countries, and the sprawling room and subsequent halls were filled with faces far and wide, but none of them came to talk about further negotiations, treaties, or trade options. They all came to eat, dance, and laugh - embracing the decade’s worth of peace since King Christopher took his father’s place in Silvenia and ended the wars and trade blocks.

Derek stood off to the side, doing his best to obscure himself as much as possible in the throng of people. He’d eaten, he’d talked to his family, and he’d even danced with several people. He had done his share, he thought. This was meant to be enjoyed, and he enjoyed being alone.

He couldn’t, however, forever hide from Braeden. He’d seen his mother walking with her, laughing. His mother’s eyes seemed to search the crowd, trying to find him, and he did his best to slink away before she caught a whiff of his location. He’d done a good job so far, but he knew it was a fruitless endeavor to try and avoid her all night. It had only been two hours and the celebration would more than likely go well into the night. His mother would find him eventually.

Musing the odds of success if he were to try and slink away to his room or possibly to the gardens for a couple of hours to avoid detection a bit longer, Derek zoned out momentarily - unaware of his surroundings. He acknowledged the movement of others, the change in music, but it was all background noise in his mind. Which is why it was the perfect time for him to be found.

Just not by his mother, it seemed.

“Derek?” Stiles asked, gently laying a hand on his arm, eyebrows scrunched up in concern. “You okay?”

Shaking himself out of his clouded thoughts, Derek nodded and went to pull away from Stiles’ touch - planning to test out his garden escape. He should’ve been looking out for the man. After all, Stiles has been a regular attendee of nearly all the Hale family’s gatherings and parties for over 10 years. His father was now the Head of Palace Guards and his mother had once overseen the library he now worked in. Stiles’ presence was all but guaranteed between his two parents both working in the palace on a daily basis. Derek had just distantly hoped he wouldn’t approach him here - similar to all previous events.

“Then you wouldn’t mind me asking for a dance, would you?” Stiles asked, his eyebrows now unscrunched, one raised in question as he held out his hand. Derek stared for a moment, bewildered.

In all the years Stiles had attended these gatherings, he’d never once asked to dance with Derek - he rarely spoke to him. He’d danced with Cora once or twice, the two having been closer as kids since they were the same age and Cora deciding Stiles was the perfect partner for her scheming ploys. But even now in recent times, since Derek and Stiles had begun their… whatever it was between them, he had never asked. It had been nearly a year of sneaking into hidden library corners, empty guest rooms, and ducking into stable stalls - stealing kisses, fingers unbuttoning shirts, hands roaming skin. In that same time over a handful of parties, political events, and other such gatherings had come to pass of all different magnitudes and Stiles had all but avoided Derek.

Cautiously, Derek put down the drink in his hand and laid the other in Stiles’ open palm. He let the other pull him seamlessly into the throng of moving bodies. The music wasn’t slow enough for proper dance steps but it wasn’t fast enough to deter other couples from swaying and moving across the floor together. Blessedly, Stiles moved into the crowd and guided one of Derek’s hands to his waist, clasping the other in his hand while Stiles laid his second hand on Derek’s shoulder.

No one really led in this dance, but Stiles letting him control the speed and direction was a godsend as he was sure to stumble if he had to follow. Derek was sure he had Cora to thank for that, as he recalled his younger sister demanding to be the lead and making a young, 11-year-old Stiles learn to follow in all their dance numbers. He recalls hiding smirks and laughs behind his hand and drinks, watching the two kids stumble about when Stiles accidentally went to lead them and Cora stubbornly refused to follow.

He pushed those memories aside, trying to remove the fond film he’s learned to lay over all the memories with Stiles in them. He doesn’t know when he’d begun to do it, but it was harder than he’d expected to try and stop it.

“You left kinda fast earlier,” Stiles finally murmured, voice low as his eyes danced around the room. They got a couple of second glances, those who knew of Stiles’ position a bit surprised to find the two dancing together. Sure, he danced with Cora over the years, but that was largely when they were kids and it was cute - something for the adults to coo over and take pictures of.

“Yes,” Derek answered simply. He didn’t know what Stiles wanted and he preferred to keep his cards close to his chest. Stiles huffed at the minimal response, a fond eye roll following it shortly after.

“Okay, thanks for that,” Stiles teased, “what I meant is why? Did- did I say something to upset you? Did something happen - are you okay?”

Even in shorter sentences, Stiles still somehow rambled. His tempo was a bit too fast, his tone of voice wavering and pitching in odd places, teeth biting at his lips as he came up with a dozen more thoughts - his face mirroring his reaction to each one in live action. Derek quelled the amusement he found in the mannerisms.

“Just wanted to leave.”

At this, Stiles seemed to stutter in movement, feet delayed and causing the two to stumble momentarily. Both of Derek’s hands moved to hold him at the waist, righting him before he could fall while Stiles’ hands both gripped Derek’s shoulders to help anchor himself. They found themselves closer together, the stance becoming a bit more personal and intimate than before.

“Leave… me?” Stiles whispered quietly, looking over Derek’s shoulder. Derek stayed quiet, unsure how to answer without giving too much away. “Is it because of what I said? That I’m attracted to you? Did that upset you?” It was Derek’s turn to bring a stutter to their movements, going rigid. He thankfully composed himself much quicker, only setting them off by a step at most that was easily regained.

“I don’t have an issue with you finding me attractive, Stiles,” Derek sighed, “like you said, who isn’t.”

It wasn’t a question. But he couldn’t control the bite that came out with the last two words, a bit of a sarcastic drawl underlining his words. At this, Stiles snapped his eyes to the side, looking questioningly at his dance partner. Derek didn’t explain any further, instead avoiding direct eye contact as best he could while still dancing.

“Is that…” Stiles’ words faltered, dying off. Even without looking at his face, Derek could see his thoughts play out. He swear he could hear the gears grinding in his head as he raced through all possible questions, answers, scenarios, and each of their meanings in a span of a few seconds. It would never cease to impress and exasperate Derek how Stiles thought just as quickly as he spoke - often one blending into the other without filter or regard for how his words came out.

“Der,” Stiles said, his voice suddenly a bit louder and demanding. Derek just raised his eyebrows in response, gaze still not meeting Stiles’. The younger boy huffed, hides sliding up from Derek’s shoulders to grip either side of his face and force Derek to look at him before he continued speaking. “What I said was true. I don’t know any sane person who would turn you down, but - that’s not the only reason I’m attracted to you. You know that, right? You have to know that.”

Derek swallowed the lump in his throat, giving a partial shrug to try and show his indifference on the matter. It seemed to be the wrong response, however, when Stiles growled out low in frustration, his fingers digging in a bit more into Derek’s skin and demanding his attention.

“You have to know,” he said, incredulous. “You think - what? All this time I just wanted some casual… fling? That I just saw a pretty face and that was all it took? A pretty face and I spend hours sneaking away from my work, hiding from my dad, skirting around guards?”

Stiles paused, but not long enough for Derek to actually respond. He shook his head as if in disbelief before continuing, “Is that it? You thought I just wanted to fuck around with you? Jesus Christ, how shallow do you think I am? Better yet! How stupid?! If I just wanted someone for their looks why would I go after a prince? A prince, Derek. I know we’re evolved and all but I’m sure your mom would still approve a hanging or beheading or some other medieval offing of me, fuck.”

Derek couldn’t help but crack a wry grin at Stiles’ vomit of words, head ducking down slightly as he tamped down on his laughter. The idea of his mother not only approving but requesting a beheading seemed comical - the woman was terse and poised, levelheaded beyond compare, but she was also the same woman who cried over Animal Planet at 9 PM on a Tuesday after seeing a crocodile eat a baby zebra. She blubbered about ‘the poor baby’ for half an hour, squeezing Cora into a smushed hug against her chest and all but breaking Derek’s bones as she held his hand. It was a hilarious thought, all things considered.

Stiles’ noise of exasperation broke him from his daddling thoughts, surprising Derek. Another thing Stiles was good at; even without trying, he got Derek lost in his own rambling thoughts - Stiles’ jabber and ranting offering endless avenues of thought and consideration, even if absurd. It was a nice change of pace, having something to ponder and get lost in. Something that was entertaining and not all too important that demanded his full focus or response all at once.

“Derek, I am about to make a damn fool of myself and if someone overhears this and then sees you walk away from me I think I’ll be forced to exile myself but, Jesus fuck , here it goes,” Stiles let out a long breath, eyes closing briefly before reopening and settling on Derek as if he were a target. “I am in-fucking-love with you. I love how you speak with your eyebrows and eye rolls better than any person can with words. I love how you obsessively read fucking historical books and pour over goddamn poetry and art journals. I love how you get spaced out when we talk about centuries-old plays and hundred-year-old paintings as if you can’t comprehend what they mean and are stunned by their mere existence. I love how you talk and sound like you’re thinking of murdering me and then just- laugh! And god, your laugh - I still can’t figure out if it’s your smile or your laugh that’s my favorite. And, fuck- I just… I can’t think of a single thing I don’t obsessively think about when it comes to you. And of course, of course, you’re fucking beautiful - work of art, walking god, all the usuals - but I… I just love being with you.”

They stopped dancing, coming to a halt in the middle of the mass of people. Derek is sure the song changed, people who still lingered a bit further away now going through similar steps and movements he couldn’t be bothered to recall or put a name to. He also knew they were being watched - hell, he’s sure half a dozen people caught at least half of that spiel, with Stiles’ voice raising in tone and pitch and volume like crazy throughout as if he couldn’t control it.

He felt a bit punch drunk, in a way. He didn’t know if he should be embarrassed that Stiles caught him wistfully zoning out over paintings or if he should laugh at the fact that Stiles has somehow done what not even his family has by being able to read and understand his responses just by facial expressions alone. It felt like a weight had been removed from his shoulders but his stomach felt heavy, stirring with nerves.

“You love me?” he finally asked. Stiles groaned, smacking his head against the curve of his own arm that rested against Derek’s shoulder. He was muttering and cursing quietly.

“I only repeated it about a hundred times but, yes. Yes - I love you. I am in love with you, I will figure out all the euphemisms to say it and learn it in as many languages as I can. Hell, I’ll do it old school - find a fucking boombox and sta-”

Stiles’ remaining rant cut off as Derek pulled his chin up, pressing a harsh kiss against the other’s lips. It wasn’t soft or biting, just… hard. Solid. Reassuring. Stiles helped quell the bruising press of lips by softly dragging a thumb over Derek’s cheek, the gesture making the kiss soften until they both were pulling away. Stiles looked awestruck, eyes dancing and sliding side to side to take in the room before ultimately landing once more on Derek’s face, a pleased grin taking over his face as their eyes met.

“I’ve been stupidly in love with you ever since you began singing that awful song when I tried to explain what a Blue Period was and then I kept humming it all week because it was stuck in my head,” Derek offered as an explanation for his actions. Stiles paused, eyebrows pulled together in consideration for a second before he broke out into loud laughter, probably remembering the exact scene from two years prior. If no one saw them before they surely had garnered enough people’s attention by now.

“I think I’ve been in love with you since you told Harris off for making me cry during the Polka,” Stiles grinned. It was Derek’s turn to bark out a laugh, louder than he had laughed in a while. He remembered that, it was 8 years ago - when Stiles and Cora were still learning various dances. Cora had to learn for the sake of her title and appearance, Stiles was just the poor culprit she wrangled into the mess and who could barely keep time with the three-step beat, leading to lots of stumbling and Harris berating him before Derek growled out a retort about being so pathetic to bully a child.

Derek remembered it as a scarring experience, Stiles refusing to dance for two weeks after. Stiles, however, decided it was the moment in which he’d fall in love with a then-angry, overly private 16-year-old that barely even spoke to him. Derek wasn’t sure which moment of realization was more absurd between them.

“You were thirteen !”

“And I was in love!”

It got quiet between the two, both of them just grinning at the other. Neither bothered to realize just how quiet it had gotten, or how much space had been carved out around them during their conversation. They were lost in their own world, ignorant to the rest of the room around them.

It wasn’t until a minute or two passed when a cleared throat caught their attention, making them realize the quieter atmosphere and their center stage set up among the crowd. Talia - Queen Talia - stood beside them, a knowing smirk on her face as she regarded them with a raised eyebrow, hands clasped in front of her.

Stiles gave a half-choked squawk in realization while Derek bowed his head, his cheeks heating in embarrassment. They separated abruptly, standing side by side to face Talia head-on.

“So,” Talia broke the silence, “I don’t think I’ll be introducing you to Braeden anytime soon. Seeing as you already have a boyfriend, hm?”

Stiles choked again, some mangled word dying in his throat, while Derek simply looked up at his mom with a deer-in-the-headlights look. When she gave a pointed tilt of her head, eyes shooting to Stiles as the younger man seemed paralyzed on the spot, Derek knew she was encouraging him to confirm. To say something .

“Yes,” he finally managed to pull out, his hand reaching out to grasp Stiles’ and squeezing it in question. When he got an immediate squeeze in response, he gave his mother a wide, genuine smile. “I’m dating Stiles.”

With that, Talia seemed pleased. She clapped her hands, announced that further celebration was to commence, and then left them as they were. It was oddly anti-climatic, the room returning to its usual activity and volume as before - only sneaky side glances were thrown their way in curiosity. It was easy for Derek to pull Stiles back to the outskirts of the room, however, the two of them were unable to stop glancing at each other and sharing smiles.

#ao3 #ao3fic #derek hale #stiles stilinski #sterek #royalty au #modern royalty au #alive hale family #fluff and angst #derek hale x stiles stilinski #stiles x derek #derek x stiles #teen wolf stiles #stiles stilinksi fanfiction #derek hale fanfiction #teen wolf fanfiction #teen wolf fic #sterek fics #ao3 fic #sterek fic rec #my fic #teen wolf #teen wolf derek hale #oneshot

[voidpetrova]

pack mentality II — derek hale x reader

you can find part 1 here

☄. *. ⋆

content warnings and genre: no warnings — fluff, angst if you squint

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

synopsis: you love him, but when it comes down to it, he will always choose the pack's power over you

✧.*

isaac's grip on your hand tightened, his fingers threading through yours as if creating an unbreakable connection. his touch was warm and reassuring, a lifeline in the midst of the emotional whirlwind. through his eyes, you could see the genuine concern he held for you, a silent promise that he would be there no matter what.

derek's retreating figure left behind an atmosphere thick with unresolved emotions. his rigid shoulders and conflicted expression betrayed the inner turmoil he was grappling with. his gaze lingered on Isaac's comforting gesture, a mixture of envy and resignation flashing in his eyes. the façade of indifference he projected was cracking, revealing the raw edges of the emotions he struggled to suppress.

As the echo of derek's footsteps faded into the distance, isaac's focus shifted entirely to you. his gentle gaze sought to understand the storm of feelings raging within you. without words, he asked if you were holding up okay, his concern carrying a weight that words couldn't capture. with a fragile smile, you conveyed your gratitude for his unwavering support.

days melted into nights, each one a canvas painted with shared moments and whispered confidences. Isaac's presence in your life became an unshakable pillar of strength, a refuge you could turn to in times of uncertainty. the bond between you two deepened, a companionship built on empathy and trust.

meanwhile, derek's demeanor underwent a subtle transformation. the walls he had built so meticulously started to crumble as his internal battle raged on. the mask of detachment he wore was chipped away by the truth of his own emotions. he watched from the sidelines as you and isaac navigated your newfound closeness, a bittersweet ache lodged in his heart.

under the luminous glow of a full moon, derek appeared at your doorstep, his presence unexpected yet somehow anticipated. his gaze held a mixture of trepidation and longing, a vulnerability he had long denied. as his words tumbled out, he bared his soul, confessing the depth of his feelings and the fear that had kept him at arm's length.

“i never meant to hurt you,” derek admitted, his voice heavy with regret. “i pushed you away because i was scared. scared of loving, of losing. but seeing you with him made me realize that i can't keep running from this.”

isaac stood beside you, a silent witness to the vulnerability that derek had finally allowed himself to show. he was the last person derek expected to see inside your house, but he made the silent realization that nothing was going on. “it's never too late to make amends,” isaac said softly, his voice a thread of encouragement.

“you're an asshole,” you snapped, heartstrings tugging as your tone remained harsh. isaac looked at you in surprise. “we all have pain, we all deal with it somehow. you need to find a way, too.”

derek's expression wavered between defensiveness and a flicker of regret. je knew your words were a reflection of the truth he had been evading. the pain he carried had driven him to act in ways that hurt those around him, and the façade he had constructed was crumbling under the weight of your honesty.

“i'm sorry,” derek murmured, his voice carrying a hint of surrender. “i've messed up. i've been scared for so long that i forgot how to do anything else.”

your anger began to ebb, replaced by a mixture of sympathy and frustration. it was a complicated cocktail of emotions, but beneath it all, there was still a glimmer of the connection that had drawn you to derek in the first place.

the following days were a whirlwind of conversations, soul-searching, and hesitant steps toward reconciliation. the emotional landscape shifted as serek began to peel back the layers he had hidden behind for so long. it wasn't an easy process — wounds were still tender, trust still fragile — but it was a journey of growth and redemption.

amidst the tension and catharsis, the bond between you and derek underwent a metamorphosis. the love that had once been tangled in a web of pain was now redefined by newfound understanding and the willingness to heal. derek's guarded façade gave way to a man learning to embrace his emotions, and you found yourself allowing hope to blossom anew.

rhrough tearful conversations and hesitant laughter, the three of you navigated this uncharted territory. the scars of the past served as a reminder of the obstacles you had overcome, and the path forward was illuminated by the shared realization that love, in all its complexities, was worth fighting for.

#teen wolf #tw #derek hale #isaac lahey #scott mccall #stiles stilinski #derek hale x reader #derek hale angst #derek hale fluff #derek x reader angst #derek x reader fluff #derek hale x reader angst #isaac lahey x reader #isaac lahey angst #isaac lahey fluff

[soulofapatrick]

Loves Antidote - Derek Hale x Reader

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

Words: 1.2k 

Warnings: None

Y/N’s POV

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes Sir.” 

“Good lad.” 

                           ┈ ✁✃✁✃✁✃✁✃✁ ┈

Teen Wolf Masterlist

TAGS: Tag List Form

@bellabadacadabra

#derek hale #derek hale oneshot #Derek hale x reader #Derek hale x you #Derek hale x y/n #Derek hale fluff #Derek hale smut #Derek hale angst #Derek hale Drabble #Derek hale imagine #teen wolf #tw #teen wolf x female reader #Derek hale x female reader #teen wolf x reader #teen wolf x you #teen wolf x y/n #teen wolf smut #teen wolf fluff #teen wolf angest #tyler hoechlin #Tyler hoechlin x reader

[teenwolffan-with-nolife]

Can I get prompt 51 with Derek Hale🥺

"I can walk, I'm fine," Derek helped you to the couch, your arms around his shoulder as you limped, taking a seat.

"You're injured and you're bleeding, just let me help you. What were you thinking, going in after I told you not to? You could have avoided getting hurt, you know," you watched as he walked around, grabbing a small first-aid kit.

You sighed deeply, putting your hand on your wound.

"I'm sorry, I was-" you started.

"It doesn't matter, just hold still," you nodded softly as he lifted up your shirt while you winced.

"Sorry," he apologized.

You clenched your jaw, shaking your head.

You watched as he gently sterilized the wound, letting out a shaky breath.

It was silent, but it was a comfortable silence, nothing was awkward.

You looked in slight shock as he continued to patch up your wound, being careful. You thought back to all the things you'd heard about him, everything Stiles and Scott ever told you, they were wrong.

Derek was kind, he was helping you.

"I'm done," you tried to get up before he stopped you once more.

"(Y/N), just sit down and rest for a minute," he replied.

"Fine. You know, you're not who I thought you were," you started.

"Is that supposed to be a bad thing?" he replied.

"You're better," he gave you a look before you saw a soft smile on his face.

"Dude, your face is twitching, it looks like you're trying to smile. Let me help you," you put your hands in his cheeks as he pulled okay, scoffing.

"Okay, you're insane." he scoffed.

You smiled softly before he sat next to you on the couch.

"If you tell anyone, I'll kill you," he said.

"Are you gonna rip my throat out with your teeth?" you mocked him as he rolled his eyes.

You smiled to yourself before he sighed.

"You can stay here for the night, just be careful, okay?" he said.

You nodded before he gave you a small smile.

"Goodbye, Derek," you laid back on the couch, closing your eyes.

"See you," you heard him walk up the stairs as you smiled to yourself, feeling a slight warmth in your chest.

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#teen wolf #teen wolf angst #teen wolf fics #derek hale #derek hale imagine #derek hale x reader #teen wolf text #teen wolf fic #derek hale angst #derek

[hedwig394]

Derek Hale x Sarah McCall Masterlist

Summary - These are one shots of Derek Hale/Original Female Character(Sarah McCall, who's Scott's older sister)

NOTE - These don't need to be read in any order. Choose any one you want, it does not follow the chronological order of the Teen Wolf series. I'll add a summary wherever it's required. Thanks!

The First Meet

Rescuing Him

Are You Still Here?

The Piece That Doesn't Fit

Headcanons

I'm Not Yours

#teen wolf #fanfic #fanfiction #derek hale #derek hale fanfic #derek hale fanfiction #teen wolf fanfiction #derek hale love #derek hale one shot #teen wolf fanfic #soft derek hale #derek hale angst #derek hale smut #derek hae fluff #fanfic masterlist #masterlist #fluff #smut #drabble #original character #original female character #stiles stilinski #scott mccall #sarah mccall #teen wolf fan fic #teen wolf imagines #teen wolf one shot

[brwlvs]

by hellfire

#sterek #eternalsterek #stiles stilinski #derek hale #teen wolf #mieczyslaw stilinski #beerwolfart #tw: death #well well well im back and im bringing the angst :^)