#selfignitingimagines

[selfignitingimagines]

Theo-Revenge

A/N- Hey guys, I hope you’re having a good holiday, whatever you’re celebrating. I’m feeling the Christmas spirit a little differently this year, but I’ve been working on this one for a long time. It might not be your typical cozy holiday story, but I hope you enjoy it.

“Y/n! Come take a shot with me!”

As soon as you stepped through Lydia’s front door, you smiled. 

Malia paid no mind to the cold wind rushing through the door as she strode over in shorts and a tank top. The only item of clothing on her body indicating it was winter was the fuzzy, red Santa hat she was wearing. 

She grabbed your arm and yanked you toward the kitchen before you could even take your coat off, leaving the door to slam behind you. 

You laughed. “Hold on!”

You barely had a chance to take in the decor before she was pulling you behind her.

Fake candle lamps lit the front of the house in every window. Tinsel and colorful, glowing 

lights were wrapped around the banister of the staircase. You could even smell the pine from the live wreath hanging from the door. 

Lydia’s parties were always extravagant, and this Christmas was clearly no exception.

When you stepped into the kitchen, she looked over her shoulder and smiled at you. She was leaning over one of the countertops, wearing a pair of elf ears tucked into her red curls. She was attempting to perfect a charcuterie board that already looked flawless. 

“Jesus, Malia, let her breath before you get her drunk.”

“Well she’s gonna need it.”

“Wait, what?” you asked.

She never got the chance to answer, but you managed to catch the dirty look Lydia 

flashed her. They knew something you didn’t.

“Why are you always going around slamming doors?” Stiles joked as he dug around in a large cooler on the floor.

 He pulled a couple beers out, dripping icy water onto the floor. “It’s like you were raised in the woods or something.”

He grinned at Malia. She rolled her eyes, but caught the beer he tossed to her without complaint. “Thanks.”

“I think that was technically me who slammed the door,” you told him, deciding to brush off Malia’s earlier comment.

“You want one, Y/n?” he asked. He was also wearing a pair of elf ears. 

“No thanks. I think I’ll take you up on that shot though.”

Malia grinned. “Yes!”

“You have to try the eggnog!” Lydia insisted.

Stiles groaned. “Aw, come on, Lydia. You know no one likes it.”

Lydia huffed and crossed her arms over her dress. “That’s actually not true. Scott’s drinking it right now. Right, Scott?”

“Scott just got a cup to be nice.”

Scott popped his head over the couch. He had been sitting on the sectional, in full view of the whole kitchen as Home Alone played quietly on the flat screen TV. Liam and Mason were sitting next to him, sporting their own Santa hats.

Sure enough, Scott was holding a bright red solo cup in his hand. 

“Isn’t it good?” Lydia asked pointedly.

Scott let out a nervous laugh. His brown eyes were wide and guilty. “It’s, uh…better than last year’s.”

Stiles burst out laughing. Lydia huffed and turned back to the charcuterie board in a flurry of curls and sparkly fringe.

“I’ll try a cup,” you promised her.

She flashed you a grateful smile and gestured with the knife she had been cutting cheese with. “It’s in that punch bowl.”

You pulled off your coat, and tucked it into the hall closet. When you returned to the kitchen, Malia was waiting eagerly with two plastic shot glasses in her hand. 

You eyed the amber colored liquid carefully, and then decided to pour yourself a cup of eggnog to wash it down with. Once you were ready, you tapped your shot against Malia’s and tossed it back. 

You winced at the burn of the alcohol and quickly chased it down with the eggnog, grimacing at the taste. 

“That was disgusting.”

“The whiskey?” Lydia asked hopefully. 

“Both. Sorry Lyds.”

Deflated, she turned back to slicing up her block of gouda, muttering to herself. “There’s always next year.”

Stiles grinned and threw an arm around her shoulders. “That’s the spirit!”

“You do realize I’m holding a knife don’t you?”

You laughed at their banter as you followed Malia into the living room. She headed straight for the stereo, cranking the volume up.

“Dance with me!” 

The rest of the night became a blur. You, Malia, and Lydia danced for what felt like hours. Even the boys joined you after a while, though everyone took a break when Stiles insisted on performing his own rendition of ‘Last Christmas’. 

You took shot after shot and, eventually, you didn’t even mind the taste of Lydia’s spiked eggnog. She was so proud she nearly burst into tears. You didn’t have the heart to admit that you were so drunk you didn’t care anymore.

Right as Malia was managing to talk you into your sixth shot, Lydia’s doorbell rang. You glanced across the room, taking a mental tally of your friends. Everyone in the pack was there.

“Did we invite someone else?” you asked Stiles. 

A strange look crossed his face. You couldn’t read it.

“Scott?”

The Alpha had never had the best poker face, and tonight was no exception. He looked guilty as hell. 

“Guys, what’s going on?”

Liam and Mason shrugged. They looked just as clueless as you were. 

“Malia?” you demanded.

“They said I couldn’t tell you!” she blurted. 

Stiles hissed her name, but you never got the chance to ask her what she was talking about. Lydia walked back into the living room, casually gesturing toward the kitchen. 

“If you want something to drink,” she was telling someone. “Eggnog and liquor are in there.”

Trailing behind her, looking sheepish, was Isaac Lahey. He was bundled up in a gray coat and a matching scarf that was tucked around his neck. His dark blonde curls weren’t even mussed from the wind. He looked as perfect as he always had, and the sight filled you with rage.

As if he could sense your anger, he looked toward you. He had the nerve to smile. “Hey, Y/n.”

Instead of saying all the insulting things that were hovering on the tip of your tongue, you simply shoved past the others and hurried down the hall. 

This wasn’t happening. It couldn’t be. 

It had taken you months to stop crying when Isaac had betrayed you and disappeared off to France when the pack needed him most. Now, over a year later, you felt like you were finally healing. Of course Isaac had to return and ruin that too. 

“Y/n, wait!”

You paused in the middle of the hallway. Your gut was telling you to keep walking, but there was a small, wounded part of you that wanted to see what Isaac had to say.

“Just hear me out,” he begged. “Please?”

Before you had a chance to answer, he was already pulling you down the hall and into one of Lydia’s guest rooms. He shut the door behind you, muffling the sound of “Santa Baby” that was playing in the background. 

You crossed your arms over your chest and glared at him bitterly. What could he possibly say that could make things right between the two of you?

“Listen. What happened with me and Allison…that wasn’t me.”

Your jaw dropped. You certainly hadn’t expected that. 

“I was possessed by the Nogitsune,” he continued. “It made me do that on purpose. It knew it was going to ruin our relationship.”

You felt rage boiling up inside you. “Seriously? Okay, what’s your excuse for completely disappearing with Allison’s dad?”

“I was hurting-”

“You never even called!”  

He stepped forward, grabbing both of your hands. “Y/n, I still love you. I’ve always loved you and I’m sorry. I’m so sorry for everything-”

You shook your head and jerked your hands out of his grasp. “Nope. No way. I’m not doing this with you.”

For over a year, you had ached for some kind of explanation, for an apology from Isaac. Now that it was coming out of his mouth (however half-assed it may have been), you realized it didn’t matter. You didn’t need one anymore.

When it came to your friends, though, that was an entirely different story. You couldn’t believe they had just sprung this on you.

You shoved open the guest room door and headed right for Lydia’s coat closet. You yanked the fabric off the hanger, not even bothering to shut the door behind you.

“Where are you going?” Isaac asked. “You’re drunk.”

“Anywhere but here,” you muttered. 

You stalked down the hall, passing the living room on the way out. Everyone was staring at you. Aside from Liam and Mason, the guilt was plain on their faces. 

“Fuck all of you!” you spat.

You turned away and walked toward the door, hurt that your friends had kept Isaac’s return from you. 

You heard heels clicking on the tile behind you. Lydia was trying to follow you. 

“What the hell?” you hissed, whirling around to face her. “You couldn’t have given me a head’s up?”

“If you knew he was going to be here, you would never have shown up,” she protested.

“You’re damn right.”

Lydia sighed. “Don’t you think it’s time you forgave him?”

“For cheating on me with Allison and then disappearing off to France? I think I have every right to never forgive him.”

When you turned, Lydia grabbed your wrist. “Y/n, you can’t drive like this!”

“I’m not going to!”

You jerked open the front door and stormed out, slamming it behind you.

You trudged down the icy sidewalk, still attempting to zip up your coat. The zipper was caught on the lining, and no matter how much you tried to force it up, it wouldn’t budge. 

Your frustration was beginning to boil over. You couldn’t believe the entire pack had lied to you about Isaac’s return.

Tears began to slip from your eyes. You stubbornly wiped them away. Even though Lydia’s neighborhood was deserted, you didn’t want to take the chance of someone seeing you cry. 

Despite your fears, no one seemed to notice as you stalked past countless multi-colored lights and obnoxious blow-up decorations. Everyone was inside their warm houses, celebrating Christmas Eve with their own friends and family. 

Your vision began to blur slightly, and it occurred to you that maybe that fifth shot with Malia had been too much. 

You kept walking until you were sure no one would follow you. The cold December air was stinging your face, but you were too stubborn to turn around and go back. 

You knew you looked ridiculous, stumbling around in the cold, but at that point going back would have drawn more attention to yourself. At least out there, there was no one to see you.

You walked so far that you reached a part of Lydia’s neighborhood you didn’t recognize, even though you had been visiting her here for 12 years.

There was a playground about forty yards ahead with a small parking lot next to it. It was deserted, save for one black truck that didn’t seem to be running. 

Just as you looked back toward the walkway, your legs flew out from under you. Your back slammed onto the cement, and you wheezed in pain.

When you felt the ground underneath you, it was slick and cold. You must have slipped on a patch of ice and gotten the wind knocked out of you.

Theo Raeken, who had been sleeping in the back of his truck, looked up when he heard your footsteps. He had parked in this neighborhood hoping to find a place to sleep without someone calling the police on him. When he looked out the back window and saw you stumbling around with your coat half-way unzipped, he began to think he had picked the wrong parking lot. 

But as you trudged down the sidewalk, he realized you didn’t seem to notice him at all. You were probably too plastered to recognize his truck, but then why were you all alone?

Part of him wanted to get out and check on you, but he hesitated. No one in Scott’s pack liked him, and they certainly didn’t trust him. There was a pretty good chance you would spit in his face if he offered to help you. 

As if the universe was making the choice for him, you suddenly slipped on a patch of ice. Theo watched you slam onto the ground with a violent thump, and he sighed. 

It looked like he would try to be the good guy tonight.

You laid there on the ground for a few moments, unable to move until the breath came back into your lungs. It was a clear night in Beacon Hills, and the stars were shining brightly in the night sky.

Suddenly, the constellations above your head were replaced with a familiar face looming over yours. His dark brown hair had grown longer and shaggier, and he didn’t look as clean and polished as he once had, but you would recognize those piercing eyes anywhere.

“Theo?” you asked, your voice hoarse.

“Need a hand?”

You nodded, and he knelt next to you. Theo helped you up into a sitting position, examining the back of your head. You weren’t bleeding, which was a good sign. 

He glanced down at your face, which was still flushed bright red. He could tell that it wasn't from the cold. 

“Rough night?”

“You could say that.”

“Here,” he said, standing up and offering his hand. “Let me walk you back to wherever you came from.”

You snorted. “Hell no.”

“What? You don’t trust me?”

You raised an eyebrow. “Did you seriously just ask me that?”

“Alright,” he agreed. “I deserve that.”

You shook your head. “You’re not the problem. I’m not going back there.”

“To where?”

“To Lydia’s.”

“So what? You’re going to walk around here in the cold all night?”

“Maybe.” You crossed your arms stubbornly over your chest, still sitting in the patch of ice. “What are you doing out here?”

“Well, I was trying to sleep, until you fell on your ass and woke me up.”

You frowned, glancing over at his truck, which still wasn’t running. “Why are you sleeping out here in the cold?”

“Why do you think?” he asked. “I can’t exactly get a job or an apartment when I’ve been living in underground tunnels for the past ten years.”

“Oh.”

“Come on,” Theo insisted.

He reached out again, and you reluctantly took his hand. “Be caref-”

When you stood up, your boots hit the exact same patch of ice, sending you sliding again. 

Luckily, Theo was there to catch you this time. His arm came around your waist, catching your body pulling you against him before you could fall. 

He had pressed you against his chest so tightly that you could feel the heat emanating from his body. He was gazing down at you with those piercing blue-green eyes, and you swore you saw a hint of a smile on his lips. 

Your heart was hammering in your chest, and it wasn’t from fear. 

You cleared your throat. “Uh, thanks.”

“No problem.”

He let you go, easing you back onto the sidewalk. 

“Let me take you back. It’s only going to get colder.”

You bristled. “No. I told you, I’m not going back there.”

“Why?” he asked. “You have a fight with Lydia or something?”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” you snapped. “I’m not going.”

Theo huffed and threw up his hands. “Fine. Sit out here and freeze then.”

“As if you actually care.”

You stalked away as your breath billowed out in front of you. Theo was right. It was getting colder by the minute.

You fumbled with your zipper as you headed in the opposite direction. Theo looked over his shoulder. You were struggling with your coat as you walked, and if he looked close enough, he could see tears slipping down your red cheeks. You  weren’t just drunk, there was clearly something wrong.

He sighed and then, against his better judgment, he turned and called out your name. 

You paused. “What?”

“At least let me fix your jacket.” He jogged over.

You were too drunk to protest as he stepped closer, and you realized that you didn’t really want to. He felt so warm. You were briefly tempted to lean in and curl up against him, but you told yourself that was the alcohol talking. 

Theo grabbed the zipper and fabric, and, in one smooth motion, pulled them apart without breaking them. Then, he zipped the coat all the way up to your chin and smoothed down the shoulders.

You stared up at him, a little shocked. The action was so tender. It was something you never would have expected from Theo. 

“You don’t have to tell me why you won’t go back,” he began. “But at least come sit in the truck. It’s warmer.”

“Okay.”

When you followed Theo into his truck, he started his car and turned up the heat. 

“You don’t have to turn it on just for me,” you told him. 

“I’m cold too,” he promised, but you had a suspicion he was exaggerating for your sake.

You leaned back into his passenger seat. “Why are you being so nice?”

“I’m trying this new thing where I actually help people instead of hurting them.”

You smiled. “I think you’re doing pretty good.”

He looked over at you. He was smiling too.

“Do you want me to take you anywhere else?” he asked. “I can drive you home.”

You shook your head. “My keys are in Lydia’s house. I’m gonna have to go back there eventually, just not now.”

“Do you…wanna talk about it?”

You took a deep breath. “It’s kind of complicated.”

“I’ve got all night.”

You bit the inside of your cheek. Spilling your guts to Theo Raeken was something you weren’t keen on, but then again, he didn’t really have room to judge. You needed to open up to somebody, and it looked like it was going to have to be him.

You took a deep breath. “So I used to date this guy named Isaac…”

Theo sat there and listened as you explained the events from earlier that night. 

Much to your surprise, he listened intently. He nodded along with what you were saying, sometimes raising an eyebrow or frowning, but he never interrupted you once. 

When you were finished, he whistled. 

“I don’t blame you for being angry. That guy sounds like an asshole…and that’s saying something coming from me.”

“And the worst part,” you continued softly. “He tried to tell me he still loved me.”

Theo raised an eyebrow. “Seriously?”

You nodded. “He said he loved me the entire time. Even when he kissed Allison…even when he left without telling me.”

Theo could see the tears welling in your eyes. 

“You wanna believe it, don’t you?” he asked gently. 

You nodded again, reaching up to wipe the tears off your cheeks. “Yeah I do, but…I think he’s lying. I mean, I’m not a werewolf, but I can tell.”

“No one who loves you would let you walk around in the cold, drunk and alone. He’s lying. And you don’t have to be a werewolf to see that.”

“Yeah,” you agreed softly. “I know.”

Theo let out a scoff. “What a dick. If that were me, I would have chased after you. I’d be running up and down the street looking for you, trying to prove it.”

You smiled. “That’s sweet.”

He shrugged. “It’s true. It’s what anyone who loves you would be doing.”

You nodded. 

“Speaking of,” he continued. “Where’s Scott and his little band of heroes?”

You bit the inside of your cheek. It felt strange to be bad-mouthing your pack with Theo, but they were the only friends you had. It wasn’t like you had anyone else to talk to.

“They’re back at Lydia’s…partying with Isaac.”

“They knew he was coming and they didn’t tell you?”

You shook your head.

He snorted. “And they were surprised when you stomped out of there?”  

“They think I should forgive him.”

Theo seemed thoughtful. “Would that make you feel better?”

You shrugged. “I don’t know.”

He shook his head, leaning back in the seat and throwing his arms behind his head. “You want my opinion?”

“I have a feeling you’re going to give it anyway.”

He rolled his eyes. Then, his face grew somber again.

“Forgiveness is overrated,” he told you softly. “Revenge is much more satisfying.”

“You’re saying I should get revenge?”

“No, I’m saying you don’t have to forgive him, not if you don’t want to. Sometimes you can’t. Sometimes there’s no good way to feel about something.”

You knew he was talking about the Dread Doctors. They had stolen him as a child, and manipulated him into killing his sister and becoming their monster.

You opened your mouth, but before you could say anything, Theo spoke. It looked like that would be a conversation for another day.

“I should get you home.”

“I think I’m sobering up-”

Before you could finish protesting, he waved you off. “I’ll run into Lydia’s and get your keys.”

You blinked. “You’d do that? But-”

“They already hate me,” he told you with a shrug. “I’m not worried about it.”

You briefly wondered why Theo was being so nice to you. Of course, it could have been a ploy to worm his way back into the pack, but he didn’t seem like he thought very highly of them anymore. 

Maybe this was his attempt at trying to be human. That was something you could respect, and, after all, he had helped you up off the ice. He had listened when no one else seemed to care.

“You wanna come home with me?” you asked him suddenly. 

Theo laughed. “I thought you said you were sobering up.”

“I am.” You rolled your eyes at him. “What?  You think I’m trying to invite you into bed with me?”

Theo grinned. “Are you offering?”

You smacked his shoulder, and he laughed. “You’re a fucking pig!”

“You know I can see you smiling, right?”

You glanced away, looking out the foggy window, suddenly feeling like the whole idea was silly. “I was going to offer you my spare room.”

Theo didn’t answer. You looked back, but he was no longer smiling anymore. He seemed more guarded than he had been all night.

 “You don’t have to do that.”

“I know I don’t, but you’ve been keeping me warm. I’m not letting you freeze in your truck all night.”

“I’m fine.”

“Stay for one night,” you insisted. “Then we’ll be even.”

Theo studied you for a moment. He was clearly skeptical of your kindness.

“You’d be doing me a favor. I probably shouldn’t be driving anyway.”

You understood his hesitation, but you didn’t want him to be out there alone, especially around Christmas. There was also the fact that you didn’t want to return to an empty apartment and stew about Isaac’s return all night by yourself. Maybe your motives were partly selfish, but if Theo picked up on that, he didn’t seem to care. 

“Alright. I’ll stay for tonight.”

He put the car into drive and pulled out of the parking lot. Though you had walked for what seemed like forever, he was pulling to a stop in Lydia’s driveway in about ten minutes.

“I’ll run in and get your keys.”

You glanced toward the house. It looked warm and inviting, glowing bright with all the multi-colored lights Lydia and her mother had strung up. You wanted more than anything to go back in there and enjoy the holiday cheer with everyone else, but you knew that wasn’t happening tonight. You were too angry.

Theo began to get out of the truck, but you called out to him.

“Wait, I want to come with you.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

“You said revenge is much more satisfying, right?”

His lips curled into a grin. “Yeah, I did.”

You walked up to the porch and instructed Theo to stay there and wait. When you walked back inside the house, Lydia, Scott and Isaac all rushed into the foyer. 

“Y/n,” Lydia snapped. “What’s wrong with you? You scared the hell out of us!”

“Lydia,” Scott chastised. “We were just worried about you, Y/n.”

You ignored them as you grabbed your purse from where you had placed it in the coat closet.

When you began to turn away, Lydia grabbed your wrist. “You’re leaving again?

“You didn’t even come after me,” you pointed out. “So clearly you weren’t that worried.”

Lydia flushed. Scott looked down at his feet, and Isaac was standing there with a dumbfounded look, as usual.

“You can’t drive like that,” she said softly.

“I’m not the one driving.”

They all stared at you with a mixture of confusion and disappointment. Before they could ask any more questions, you were gone, slamming the front door behind you. 

You remained there on the porch for a few seconds. Theo was waiting there, hands tucked into the pockets of his jacket. Once you were sure they were watching, you grabbed Theo by the collar and kissed him. He froze for a moment, surprised at the feel of your lips on his. He hadn’t expected that this was what you had in mind, but he wasn’t complaining.

He suddenly gripped your hips with an eagerness that startled you. His lips were warm 

and hungry. He was kissing you like he was starving, but, then again, maybe he was. You weren’t the only one who had been alone for so long. 

You gripped the soft flannel of his jacket, digging your nails in when he bit your bottom lip playfully. You suppressed the moan that was threatening to escape your mouth.

You and Theo were so lost in each other that, for a moment, you forgot your original plan. You were quickly reminded when you heard a low growl coming from behind Lydia’s door. 

“Isaac, stop,” a voice warned.

You pulled away, breathless and a little stunned at the fervor Theo had shown when he kissed you. “Let’s go.”

He held open the passenger side door of the truck for you, and you were both silent as you got in the car. You refused to look at him until you were out of Lydia’s neighborhood. When you finally did, you saw that he was grinning. 

“What?” you asked. 

He looked over at you, raising an eyebrow. “You sure you’re not trying to invite me into bed with you?”

You laughed. “We’ll see how the rest of the night goes.”

#teen wolf imagines #teen wolf #teen wolf movie #theo raeken #theo raeken imagines #selfignitingimagines

[selfignitingimagines]

Void Stiles- Made For You

Request- your ability to create art through writing never fails to amaze me!! been reading and rereading your work for years 🧡 may i just ask if we will ever get to see part 2 of insatiable w void stiles?

A/N- After literal years, here is part 2 of Stiles- Insatiable :)

“Are you ever going to stop moping?” 

You glanced up from where you sat on the grimy floors of the Oak Creek barracks. You were curled in on yourself, knees tucked up to your chest as you sat against one of the moth-eaten bunks. 

It had been days since Allison died and Void whisked you away, but you were still reeling from the grief. Not just yours, but everyone else’s too. The burden of Lydia’s pain was still a particularly heavy weight on your chest. It was a sensation so horrifying that you weren’t even sure you could accurately find the words to describe it. It was almost as if you could feel her spirit splintering in two.

Void studied you as tears continued to stream down your cheeks. You hadn’t responded to his snide comment, instead glancing up only briefly to meet his gaze. Your eyes were sharp, glinting like a knife with hatred and rage and fear. 

Yet, as he continued to watch you sob and tremble, it occurred to him that the fear wasn’t directed toward him. You were afraid of yourself, of your own ability to tap into the emotions of others. You had never felt something this strongly, never experienced the crushing weight of grief quite like this. 

He felt a twinge of something stirring inside himself. An emotion he once thought dead was rising to the surface, spurring him to move toward you. 

“You poor little thing,” he cooed, crouching in front of your shaking form. 

You recoiled as he reached out for you, startled at the sympathetic look that had replaced his usually vacant expression.

“Don’t touch me.”

He could see the distrust in your eyes, the confusion at his gentle actions and words. You couldn’t be sure that this wasn’t just another one of his tricks.

Your back was still flush against the rusty metal of the bed, but you made an attempt to scramble away from him. 

Void was simply too fast for you.

His hands sank into the musty fabric of the old mattress on the bottom bunk, caging you in. The two of you were now chest to chest as he forced you back against the bed. Your combined weight caused the ancient springs to creak and groan under you.

“Not so fast, Little Rabbit.”

He reached up, causing you to flinch back in anticipation. You closed your eyes, but the expected blow never came. He simply traced his thumb across your skin, swiping the tears from your wet cheeks. 

“It’s too much for you to feel,” he observed. “You can’t control it at all, can you?”

You shook your head. He was right.

“If you continue like this, it’s going to destroy you.”

You finally risked a glance up at him. “You mean…”

“You’ll die…or if you’re lucky, you’ll slowly go insane.”

He seemed to be frowning at the thought. He absentmindedly reached up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear, lost in his own contemplation.

“Isn’t…isn’t that what you want?”

Now it was his turn to be shocked. His hollow eyes widened. “No. Of course not.”

“But I thought that was what you wanted…chaos, strife, pain?”

“Not yours. If you couldn’t handle it, if it overtook you…you’d be lost to me forever.”

“I…I don’t understand.”

Void sighed. “Let me explain in a way that your feeble little human mind can comprehend.”

He reached up, cupping your cheeks gently in his hands. His fingers were freezing. The icy twinge of his skin on yours made you flinch, but you couldn’t pull away.

 “In the thousand years that I’ve existed, I’ve never seen anything like you. I wouldn’t have to destroy a pack of werewolves or level a city to feed off the chaos. I wouldn’t have to kill your friends. I could feed off of you alone.”

“What if I don’t want you to?” you asked softly.

“Then I guess more people will have to die.”

His hoarse voice sent a chill down your spine. He trailed his hand down your neck, feeling your muscles tense under his fingertips. 

Void inhaled deeply. He could practically smell the grief and fear coming off of you in waves. It was taking its toll on your trembling body. He could feel how exhausted you were. 

“I can take it from you,” he murmured against the skin of your neck. “I can take it all away.”

You closed your eyes, considering his offer.

 Your entire life had been colored by the flood of other people’s emotions. There was no way to separate yourself from them, no way to silence the flow of constant chatter, no matter how hard you had tried. 

As terrifying as it was, the only peace you had found was in Void. When he placed his cold hand on your neck, he was taking the weight from your shoulders.

You knew Void was a monster. He had killed one of your classmates, possessed one of your friends...but why couldn’t you bring yourself to refuse him?

“Stay with me,” he pleaded. “Be with me. I was made for you, Y/n. You know it just as much as I do.”

You felt yourself nodding against his cheek, before you could even think about stopping yourself. His grip on your throat suddenly tightened. He stole the gasp from your mouth before you could even make a sound. 

His lips were on yours, urgent and surprisingly warm. When he kissed you, it felt like he was stepping right inside your skin, bringing with him an icy chill that spread through your entire body. 

Void latched onto everything you had been feeling, the fear, the grief, and slowly drew it out of you. 

When he finally pulled his fingers away from your throat, you felt bare and raw, but strangely satisfied. That crushing weight had been lifted off of you. Now all you felt was exhaustion. 

Your knees buckled, and you pitched forward into Void’s waiting arms. A shaky breath escaped your lips as he lowered you into his lap, supporting your head with one cold hand. 

“It’s alright,” he murmured. “You just need to rest.”

His other hand pressed softly into the small of your back, cradling you against him.

The edges of your vision were blurring, but as you slipped into unconsciousness, you saw his pale lips curl into a tender smile.

#selfignitingimagines #teen wolf #teen wolf movie #Teen Wolf Ships #stiles stilinski #void stiles #void stiles imagines #stiles stilinski imagines #nogitsune stiles

[selfignitingimagines]

Derek- For The Better

A/N- Here is part 2 of Maybe You Should. Sorry for the three month wait! Hope it lives up to expectations.

Original Request: can you do an imagine where the reader is a well known vocalist in  beacon hills and one night the pack goes to an underground party(you  know the umm like illegal shows something like that whatever im  sorry😂)and they see her again when their like a following a lead and  they see her there and she's like getting information(she's a hunter)  with like you know slight seduction but nothing excessive but the guy  sees the pack and he runs and reader gets really badass like woah and  can the pairing be with derek?

----

    “Derek! Derek! Hey, let me go!”

    Derek turned at the sound of your familiar voice. You were sprinting up to the barricade that separated the Hale property from the rest of the world. Fire trucks and police cruisers surrounded  his house, which had been reduced to nothing but a burned out shell.

    “Ma’am, stop!” 

You were shoving past a couple of Beacon Hills Sheriff’s deputies, too quick for their pudgy, fumbling hands to grab. Acrid smoke filled the air, making you gag, but you never stopped running.

    Derek had been standing in his front yard, staring in horror as the Coroner began to carry the bodies of his family members, covered in white sheets. They had run out of body bags a while ago.

    “Derek!”

    You suddenly crashed into him, throwing your arms around his broad shoulders. “God, I thought you were-”

    You yelped as he shoved you off, sending you crashing onto the leaf-covered yard. 

    “Derek-” you began, scrambling to your feet. 

    Before you could finish, he was grabbing you by the throat and shoving you up against a nearby tree. 

    “I know you did this!” he screamed in your face. “I know you helped them!”

    “No! I didn’t-”

    “Stay away from me or I’ll kill you! I swear to god, I’ll kill you!”

    Derek sat up in bed with a start. He was drenched in sweat, and he had kicked his covers off in his sleep. They sat on the cold floor of the loft in a jumbled heap, looking sad and forlorn as the first rays of morning light shined onto them.

    He sighed, burying his face in his hands. Derek couldn’t get you out of his head. 

    Since the night at the underground show, thoughts of your reunion had plagued him. You had always been able to hide your feelings behind a hunter’s bravado, but you forgot that Derek knew you better than anyone. 

    It wasn’t just the circles under your eyes that you hid with concealer, or the urgency in your voice when you confronted Lydia that made him think something was seriously wrong. What set off alarm bells inside Derek’s head were your final words before disappearing that night.

    Maybe you should hate me. 

    Admitting guilt had never come easily to you. It was something you would never have done unless you had to. Unless you felt like you wouldn’t have another chance to say it.

    Your words had an air of finality to them, one that sent Derek’s stomach working itself into knots. Something was missing when it came to this whole situation with Kate. He was sure you held that missing piece, but he didn’t know if you would survive long enough for him to figure it out. 

    Yes, you had been reckless in the past, but he had almost watched you launch yourself off of a balcony and onto a werewolf three times your size. That wasn’t just reckless. It was suicidal.

    “She’s spiraling, Dude,” Stiles had told him in the parking lot. “She put a knife up to my freaking throat!”

    They were all crowded around Stiles’ jeep, going over how their plan had failed and what their next steps would be.

    Lydia, who normally disagreed when anyone said something negative about you, was uncharacteristically silent. Her lips were pressed together in a grim line. 

    “Maybe we can reach out,” Scott suggested. “Maybe she’ll tell us what she knows. ”

    Derek shook his head. “She doesn’t trust us.”

    “But she might trust you.”

    Derek glanced over at Lydia. He raised his eyebrows. 

    “Are you serious?”

    As it turned out, she was. 

    That was why Derek was now walking up the stairs of your apartment building, following the directions Lydia has given him. She was the only one you trusted with the location of your home.

    “She’s going to kill me for doing this,” the redhead had muttered to him.

    Derek reached up, knocking softly on the door of your apartment. He tapped his foot nervously, but he could hear you moving inside your apartment. 

    The sound of a television was playing softly in the background, and the fabric of your jeans began to slide across your leather couch. You were getting up.

When you heard the knock on your door, you walked over to peer out of the peephole. When you saw that it was Derek, you bristled. How the hell had he gotten your address?

For a second you considered not opening the door, but you knew he could hear you. It would be stupid to ignore him.

    Derek waited for what seemed like ages. He stood on the other side of the door, listening to your racing heartbeat. You took so long to open it that he began to turn away, sure you weren’t going to. 

    Then the lock clicked and the two of you were standing face to face. 

    “I’m going to kill Lydia,” you stated.

     “It’s not her fault,” he lied. “I insisted.”

    You crossed your arms over your chest. “What do you want?”

    “To talk,” he told you.

    You frowned. “What? Are you here to scold me again?”

    “No. I just…I just wanted to see if you’re okay. Can I come in?”

    You thought about it for a moment, glancing down at the brown paper bag in his hands. “What’s that?”

    “Wine.”

     “I’m listening.”

    “You still like rosé, don’t you?”

    “Maybe.”

    The smug look on Derek’s face was almost enough to make you slam the door right then, but there was something in his eyes that made you pause. 

    He did look worried. He might have been grinning at you, but his green eyes were stormy. Stress lines were forming at the corners. 

You could tell he was just as afraid for you as you were, even though he had no idea what was going on.

“Fine. Come in.”

    —-

    An hour later, you and Derek were sprawled out on your sofa, finishing off the bottle of wine. You were situated at one end with your legs extended next to his. He was leaning back against the opposite arm of the sofa, studying you intently.

    It reminded you of the countless nights the two of you had spent on the Hale’s basement couch before the fire. You and Derek would stay up until 4am, sitting just like that while you talked for hours or watched horror movies. 

By sunrise, Talia would usually find the two of you asleep on the cushions with the blank, fuzzy screen of a finished VHS tape still on the TV.

    The memory made you smile fondly, until Derek broke the silence.

“I owe you an apology,” he began. 

    You waved him off. “Don’t worry about it. You’re right. It was stupid.”

    Derek frowned. “I’m not talking about the underground show.”

    You leaned back against the end of the sofa, setting your wine glass down onto the nearby end table. “What are you talking about then?”

    He took a deep breath. “I blamed you for the fire. I pushed you away. You didn’t deserve that.”

    “We were kids,” you reminded him softly. “You had just lost your entire family.”

    “So did you.”

    A lump began to form in the back of your throat. You blinked hard, attempting to stop the tears that were threatening to spill. 

    “I left you with the Argents,” he continued. “I left you with Kate.”

    You shook your head. “Derek, they would have killed you. That was why I told you to stay away and-and then the fire…”

    You broke off, unable to bring yourself to even speak the words.

    “I should have fought harder for you…and for that I’m sorry.”

    “You don’t need to apologize.”

    You tried to say it confidently, but the tears were coming down now. There was a slight tremor in your voice as you spoke. 

    Derek moved closer, grabbing both of your hands in his own. “I do. I need to. And I need you to know that I’m going to fight for you.”

    “Derek,” you whispered. “I’m not the same person anymore.”

    “Neither am I. Just let me in,” he pleaded. “I want to help. Whatever is going on with Kate, whatever you’re afraid of, it doesn’t matter.”

    You shook your head and reached up to wipe your eyes. “You don’t understand-”

    “I know she killed your parents too. I know exactly how you feel, but you can’t keep running away from the people who are still here.”

    “I-”  You took a deep, shaky breath. Could you really come clean and tell Derek the truth about that night? 

 “I don’t want to talk about Kate.”

    “Okay,” he agreed. “We don’t have to.”

    He watched as the tension melted from your shoulders. Any questions he had about Kate weren’t going to be answered tonight.

    He let go of your hands and leaned back. “Can I ask you something?”

    “As long as it’s not about me and Kate.”

“You know, I’ve never seen you with a...you’ve never had…”

Derek paused for a bit, unsure how to broach the question.

    You let out a disbelieving laugh, wiping the stray tears from your face. “Are you asking me why I’ve never dated anyone?”

    Derek went red. “I just…I haven’t seen you with anyone in, like, ten years.”

     “Dating is kind of hard when your whole life is a secret, don’t you think?”

    He nodded. “Yeah. I get that, but some people already know.”

    “Which reminds me,” you said with a smile. “What happened to Braeden?”

    “Nothing. I mean, she was a great fighter, a great person, but…”

    “But what? She wasn’t good enough for the big, bad Derek Hale?”

    Your voice was teasing, but Derek wasn’t smiling back at you. In fact, he looked pretty grim.

    “No,” he said softly. “She wasn’t you.”

    The words slipped out before he could stop them. The minute he spoke, he realized he had made a mistake. You were staring at him in absolute shock, but now he had told the truth, and he had to keep going.

    “It’s always going to be you,” he admitted. “No matter what I’ve done, who I’ve been with…I’m always going to love you.”

    “Derek, all I’ve ever done is hurt you.”

    “That isn’t true. Y/n, I love you and I know you still love me.”

    You couldn’t deny it. You had loved Derek since you were fifteen, and you always would.

    “Please,” he begged. “Just stop running from me.”

     His green eyes were desperate and pleading. When you looked into them, you caught a glimpse of the Derek you had fallen in love with those years ago. The one who would have done anything, even died for you, if it meant keeping you safe. 

     Maybe it was time to let him try.

     “Okay. I’m done running.”

     You moved forward, closing the distance between the two of you. His lips met yours, and for the first time in ten years, you kissed him back. One of his arms came around your waist and pulled you closer, up and into his lap. 

     You clung to him, to the warmth emanating from his chest. You had ached for Derek for so long, ever since he had ended your relationship. It hadn’t mattered that he had forgiven you years ago. You never let yourself give in to those feelings until now.

 Your love for Derek was something you had kept locked away and hidden with the darkest parts of yourself. Now, as you faced what might possibly be the end of your life, you realized you couldn’t keep it from him any longer.

    “Wait. I need to show you something.”

    Derek followed you as you pulled away and rose from the couch. His brow furrowed in confusion, but he walked behind you as you headed toward your bedroom. 

    “I swear to god,” you told him, as you opened the door. “I’m not crazy.”

    “I know you’re n-”

    Derek froze. His words caught in his throat as you revealed the inside of your room. One entire wall was covered in newspaper clippings, looseleaf note pages and printed out photos. Almost all of them had been scrawled on with sharpie, and some of the items were connected with red string tacked to each piece. 

    You walked over and grabbed a single piece of paper, tearing it from where it was stuck to the wall. You offered it to Derek silently, and he gently took it from your hand. 

    He recognized Kate’s handwriting instantly. His stomach churned as he began to think of the love notes she used to write him, all those years ago when he had fallen for her manipulation.

    The note was short, but the four words scrawled on the paper were enough to make the hair on his arms stand up. 

    “‘I’m coming for you,’” he read aloud.

This was why you had been so desperate to find Kate. You had wanted to get to her before she could find you.

    “I should have told you,” you said softly. “I just…I didn’t want you to get hurt, Derek. I couldn’t live with myself if something happened to you.”

    Derek had a deep frown etched onto his face. He shook his head and then stepped forward to envelope you in his arms. 

    You stood there for a moment, stunned, but leaned into him nonetheless. 

    “God, Y/n, how do you think I would feel?”

    You didn’t say anything. Instead, you just buried your face into his warm shoulder. He reached up, running a comforting hand down your hair.

    “She’s killing hunters, isn’t she?” he asked. “Everyone from her past.”

    “I think so,” you whispered. “And I’m pretty sure I’m next.”

    He reached up, cupping your face in his hands. “She’s not going to touch you, Y/n. I promise.”

    You nodded, not sure what else to say. 

    “Do you trust me?” he asked softly.

    You took a deep breath. 

    Your relationship with Derek had become so twisted and broken. After the death of your parents and the fire, you had known things could never be the same between the two of you. For years, you weren’t sure if you could even be allies.

     Now, you were beginning to realize that, despite the rift between you, Derek had never stopped fighting for you. 

     “If there’s anyone I can trust,” you began. “It’s you.”

      Derek nodded. He began to turn away, but that was when you grabbed his hand. 

      He smiled against your lips as you tugged him closer. He couldn’t remember the last time he had been this happy. 

     Derek walked you backwards until you hit the edge of your bed. Your duvet began to brush against the back of your thighs. That was when he reached down and scooped you up, wrapping your legs around his waist. 

      He laid you onto the bed and you tugged him down by his shirt, attempting to close the distance between you. You had been apart for too long. You needed him close, and Derek was happy to oblige.

—--

      A few hours later, Derek awoke and rolled onto his side, feeling the cool fabric of your sheets brush against his chin. He groggily reached out for you, but his fingers only found empty covers. The space where you had been sleeping still felt warm, as if you had only gotten up moments ago. 

     A twinge of unease crept down his spine, but, for a moment, he assured himself that  you must have gotten up for a glass of water. That was when the coppery smell of blood wafted toward him. 

     Derek lept from the bed, throwing open the door with a bang. He followed the scent of your blood, only to find you in the living room. You weren’t alone.

     “Hi, Handsome.”

     In the moonlight shining from the window, Derek could see Kate standing there, holding a clawed hand to your throat. 

      Her blonde curls shimmered in the light. Kate looked like she always had, beautiful and blood-hungry. 

      She was grinning at him, revealing her sharp canines. She held a shotgun in her other hand, already stained red with your blood.

     There was a large gash on your head, no doubt the way Kate had subdued you. Blood was still dripping down your face, trickling onto your neck. 

     “Let her go,” Derek snarled. 

     Kate burst into laughter. “Seriously? Could you be any more cliche, Derek?”

     He let out a low growl. Kate rolled her eyes.

      “Let her go, or what?” she asked smugly. “In case you didn’t notice, I’ve got all the leverage here.”

     Derek met your eyes. They were filled with tears. 

     “What do you want?”

     “No, no, no,” she mused. “This is between me and Y/n.”

     She let out a sharp laugh and tightened her grip on your throat. Derek winced as you let out a pained, choking sound.

     “Would you believe that this little bitch has been trying to hunt me down?” she asked Derek. “She was going to try and kill me! After everything I did for her!”

     “Fuck you,” you managed to choke. 

     Kate let out an enraged snarl. In seconds, she was tossing you onto the floor. You hit the cold, wooden floor with a violent thump. 

     Then, Kate was pressing the muzzle of the shotgun up to the side of your head. 

     “Kate, no!” Derek shouted. “If you kill her, everything you taught her means nothing!”

     The Blonde paused. She glanced back at Derek with suspicion. “You’re just trying to stop me from blowing her pretty little head off.”

     “I don’t want you to kill her. You’re right. But you don’t want to kill her either. Everything that you did, everything you taught her…it made her who she is. I can tell that you’re proud of her.”

     You glanced up cautiously. Kate was gazing down at you, past the barrel of the gun. 

     She was wearing an expression that was so foreign, you felt like you had been transported into an alternate reality. Derek was right. As fucked up as it was, Kate was proud of you.

     “She’s the one thing you did right, isn’t she?” Derek continued. “If you kill her, that all goes to waste.”

     “I made you,” she said softly. “And you were going to try to kill me.”

     “I-I was,” you admitted. “But only because that’s what you taught me.”

     Kate laughed. “You’re right about that, Kiddo. See, you like to think that we have nothing in common. But we’re the same…more than he knows.”

     She nodded over her shoulder at Derek. “Or does he know?”

    You were silent. Derek watched as the color drained from your face. Kate let out a sharp peal of laughter. You flinched at the sound.

    “You are exactly like me,” she mused. “So what? You’ve been lying to him all these years?”

    “What are you talking about?”

    Derek glanced between the two of you. Kate’s expression was gleeful. You looked horrified.

    “Tell him,” Kate ordered, leveling the gun at you once more.

    Your voice came out in a broken whisper. “I can’t.”

     “Then I’ll shoot you, and I can tell him after you’ve bled out on the floor.”

     When you didn’t say anything, her finger moved toward the trigger. “Suit yourself.”

     “Stop!” Derek ordered. “Y/n, just tell me. Whatever it is, I won’t care.”

     “I wouldn’t make promises you can’t keep, Derek.”

    “Kate, please,” you begged.

    “Tell him!” she snarled, slamming the butt of the gun into your face once more.

    You collapsed onto the floor with a cry of pain. Kate had hit you so hard that white bursts were exploding across your vision.

    Derek had to fight to hold himself back. If he made one wrong move, Kate would kill you without a second thought. He watched, practically trembling with rage as you pushed yourself up on shaky hands. A bruise was already beginning to form across your cheek.

    “Last chance,” Kate told you. She pointed the shotgun at you once more. “Tell him you’ve been lying to him.”

    “Fine,” you whispered. 

    You looked up at Derek, and when you spoke, your voice was thick with shame. “Kate didn’t kill my parents. I did.”

    The stunned look on his face only confirmed that you had been right to keep it from him. 

“What?” he asked. “But you always said-”

    “She lied!” Kate snarled. “And she told you I did it? No. She killed them on the full moon. Not me.”

    “I didn’t want to-”

    “But you still pulled that trigger,” Kate cut in. “That’s why you’re just like me, Y/n.”

    “You locked me in the distillery with them!” you screamed.  “They were going to tear me apart!”

    Derek watched as the tears streamed down your face, leaving streaks in the blood that was already beginning to dry on your skin.

    “You did exactly what you were trained for,” Kate snarled. “Hunt and kill…and that’s all you’ll ever be able to do. Just like me.”

    “You’re right,” you whispered shakily. “I am just like you.”

    Kate smirked. “See? I told y-”

    Before she could react, you swept your leg into hers, knocking her off balance. 

     Kate roared as she fell onto her back, fumbling with the shotgun. When she managed to get to her knees and point the gun toward you, you were ready. 

     You shoved the barrel away just in time. As Kate pulled the trigger, the bullet sailed toward your living room window and shattered the glass. 

     Derek took the opportunity to lunge toward Kate, but she quickly ripped the gun from your grasp. She backed away from you and racked the shotgun. 

     You screamed as the bullet hit Derek in the chest, creating a large, bloody hole in his shirt. He let out a painful, ear-splitting howl, but then his knees hit the hardwood floor. A few moments later, so did the rest of him. 

     Kate began to pull more shotgun shells from her pocket, but you tackled her to the ground before she could load the gun. It spilled from her hands and clattered onto the floor, but she didn’t stop.

     “You stupid little bitch,” she snarled.

She yanked you up by your hair, shoving you into the wall behind you. The plaster cracked at the force.

Kate was pinning you by the throat. You scratched and clawed at her arms, but she was so much stronger than you. A scream was working its way up your throat, but you couldn’t breathe enough air to let it out.

This was the moment you had been terrified of. This was the moment Kate promised would come. 

She grinned at you, and you could tell she knew it too. That was when she thrust her claws into your stomach.

The pain was sharp and immediate. A strangled gasp escaped from your lips. Your fingers slipped from her hand on your throat, instinctively clutching at your abdomen.

“No!” Derek shouted. 

“Say hi to mommy and daddy for me,” she spat, before yanking her claws away. 

You fell to your knees, clutching your bleeding stomach. 

Then, the world suddenly tilted. You found yourself lying on your side with your cheek pressed against the wooden floor. Through blurry vision, you could see Kate climb out of the broken window.

The coppery taste of blood began to well up in your mouth as she disappeared into the night.

“No, no, no!”

Derek was suddenly leaning over you, pressing down onto the wounds Kate had left. Your vision went white with the pain, and you were pretty sure you screamed, but everything was hazy. 

Derek was breathing heavily, barely able to hold himself up as he held pressure to your wounds.

“Y-you,” you gasped weakly. “You’re hurt.”

Derek shook his head. “I’m healing. But you…”

“D-Derek-“

“Scott and the others are coming. They heard me howl.”

The look on his face was still stricken. 

“Not fast enough, huh?”

“I don’t know. I-I don’t know.”

You swallowed, gagging bitterly for a moment on the blood in your mouth. “I’m sorry for…for lying…for everything.”

“No.” His green eyes were welling with tears. “No. No you don’t have to apologize. I never should have believed Kate. I never should have let you go.”

“I pushed you away.” You reached up, grasping one of his hands, which was now wet with your own blood. “I’m…I’m most sorry for that.”

Your grip on his hand began to grow limp, and Derek could tell you were fading. 

“No!” he cried. “No, Y/n, come on. Stay awake. Please. Please!”

This was Derek’s worst nightmare, repeating itself all over again. The thought of losing someone else he loved, losing you, was unthinkable. 

You looked back up at him, but it was a struggle to fight the darkness creeping at the edge of your vision. Soon, the sound of his desperate voice began to fade too.

“Y/n, come on, please. I can’t lose you. I can’t…I can’t…”

His face began to blur, along with the other dark shapes that had entered your vision. You were just barely able to recognize a familiar pair of brown eyes before white hot pain spread through your arm and up your body.

Then, there was nothing.

—--

    You woke to the sound of birds chirping. The incessant chattering was sharp in your ears, almost painful.

When you opened your eyes, you could see bright sunlight shining through a row of large, square windows. You flinched away from its intensity, rolling over onto an unfamiliar mattress. 

You yanked on the fluffy gray comforter wrapped around you, pulling it over your head in an attempt to block the light and sound out. Once you were enveloped in the darkness, you tried to orient yourself.

The last thing you remembered was being attacked in your apartment, but you definitely weren���t there anymore. That was when you felt the bed dip. 

A warm hand came down to rest on your shoulder. “Y/n? What’s wrong?”

“The light,” you whispered. “It hurts.”

“Ah.”

 You felt the bed shift and,suddenly, the covers by your feet were being carefully lifted up. 

He wriggled under the comforter until he had crawled up beside you in the bed. His warm fingers came to rest on your cheek. 

“Hey, look at me.”

You opened your eyes. Derek was studying you carefully. “Do you know what’s happening?”

You thought back to the night before, when Kate had nearly killed you. Your hand came up to touch your abdomen. There should have been pain where Kate’s claws stabbed through you, but there was only smooth, bare skin.

When you pulled up the oversized T-shirt Derek had dressed you in, you saw that the wound had completely healed. 

“Scott bit me,” you realized. 

Derek nodded solemnly. “I’m sorry. I know he would have given you the choice, but…”

“There wasn’t one.”

“Yeah.”

“She would have killed me, Derek. You guys did what you had to do.”

“I’m still sorry.”

You shook your head. “I’m the one who should be sorry. I should have told you about my parents.”

Derek shook his head. “No. Don’t apologize.”

“But-”

“It wasn’t you. It was Kate. Nothing you told me changes the way I see you.”

He stroked his thumb down your cheek, swiping away the tears that were beginning to fall. “Nothing could ever make me stop loving you. You have to know that.”

“What if I hurt you?” you ask. “What if I can’t control myself on the full moon?”

“You’ll be able to eventually. It takes practice and patience.”

“I’m not very patient,” you muttered. 

Derek smiled. “Trust me, I know.”

You looked up, playfully smacking him in the chest. He caught your wrist, and pulled you closer. His other arm snaked around your waist, tugging you against him until your lips met his.

You felt surprisingly giddy, even though you were terrified at the thought of what would come next. You weren’t sure how you would handle becoming a werewolf, or what that would mean for your relationship with Derek. 

Yet again, the life you knew had been ripped away from you in a single night.  While the idea frightened you, you had a feeling that, this time, it was for the better.

#teen wolf #teen wolf imagines #selfignitingimagines #derek hale #derek hale imagines #teen wolf movie

[selfignitingimagines]

Derek- Maybe You Should

    A/N: I’m finally filling this wonderful request. I figured I’d split it into two parts, so you’ll have to let me know what you guys think.

    Request: can you do an imagine where the reader is a well known vocalist in beacon hills and one night the pack goes to an underground party(you know the umm like illegal shows something like that whatever im sorry😂)and they see her again when their like a following a lead and they see her there and she's like getting information(she's a hunter) with like you know slight seduction but nothing excessive but the guy sees the pack and he runs and reader gets really badass like woah and can the pairing be with derek?

     The moon was rising in the sky as Stiles’ jeep pulled into the parking garage. His brakes groaned as they came to a halt. 

    “Scott and Derek are already here,” Lydia told him from the passenger seat. She was glancing down at her phone, reading a text from one of the boys. 

    “Great. Let’s hope our guy is here too.”

    Stiles hopped out of the jeep and walked around to open the door for Lydia, who stepped down and pulled her purse onto her shoulder. 

    It had been a long time since anything supernatural had threatened Beacon Hills, but Lydia was beginning to find dead bodies again. 

    Each of the victims had been brutally murdered, and the evidence pointed to a familiar face. At every crime scene, the werewolves had discovered the unmistakable scent of Kate Argent.

    It wasn’t surprising, considering Kate’s new supernatural abilities and her insatiable search for power. Scott had always known she would be back at some point. He wasn’t sure why she was in Beacon Hills now, but he knew they had to stop her.

    After meeting up with Stiles and Lydia, he and Derek would meet the informant that had Kate’s location. It was an odd place for a meeting, but this venue was small enough that they could corner the man, and large enough that they could remain inconspicuous. 

    This was why, when he suggested the underground show location, Scott hadn’t said no.

    You were there that night as well, doing some recon of your own, though Scott and the others didn’t know it yet. As a prominent vocalist in Beacon Hills, you were a permanent fixture at these sorts of things. They were perfect for gathering information discreetly, and on top of that, they were fun. 

    You loved to sing. You always had, and it was the perfect cover for your real job. Being a werewolf hunter wasn’t the type of thing you could put on a business card.

     If you were being honest, you were more of a mercenary than a hunter. You tried to stick to a tight moral code, one based less on traditional hunting values and more on not being an asshole. That was why you were searching for a connection to Kate tonight. 

    She might have been the one to kill Gerard, but she was still the reason your whole family was dead. She was motivated by personal gain and vendetta, just like she always had been.

    You hated Kate more than you would normally hate a target. They were all scum, but when you looked at her, all you could think about was what she had tried to turn you into. 

    You thought about that as you sat in the makeshift dressing room, staring at your reflection in the glowing lights that bordered the mirror. Dark lipstick and sharp eyeliner were part of your signature look when you performed, but even with the familiar makeup, you didn’t recognize yourself. You hadn’t in a long time. 

    As you gazed in the mirror, you noticed the curtain that was covering the door rustling behind you. Your whole body went rigid. Maybe Kate had heard you were looking for her and decided to beat you to the punch.

    Your fingers inched toward your right boot, ready to grab the knife hidden inside it.

    “Y/n, you’re on in two minutes!”

    A stagehand popped through the curtain. The tension in your shoulders eased. 

    “Thanks,” you said curtly.

    She was gone as quickly as she had appeared, her dark ponytail bobbing behind her.

    You took one last look at yourself in the mirror and smoothed down your curls. 

     Maybe you weren’t sure who you were anymore, but you weren’t concerned about it. As long as you were eventually the woman who killed Kate Argent, nothing else mattered.

------

    Stiles and Lydia walked into the warehouse, peering through the crowd. Beacon Hills had made a name for its Underground Show ever since Matt Dahler murdered one of his victims during a performance there. The event had become a sort of morbid cult favorite, drawing in all sorts of performers from across the state. 

     The warehouse was crowded, and as Stiles and Lydia scanned the crowd for Scott and Derek, they spotted them down by the bar. After what felt like ages, they were able to weave their way through the sea of sweating bodies to get to them. 

    “So,” Stiles quipped. “What are we drinking?”

    Derek rolled his eyes.

    “Kincaid is up in the sound booth,” Scott explained. 

He was leaning against the bar, scanning the swarming crowd. 

    “Kincaid?” Stiles repeated. “Like Japanese mob-boss, bodyguard Kincaid? The guy who kicked all our asses?”

    Scott nodded. “I guess he’s doing anything for money these days.”

    The music faded in the background, and people shuffled around the stage. Some headed toward the bar for their next drink as the DJ got up to announce the next act. 

    “Next up, we’ve got a local artist. Some of you may know her, the Siren of Beacon Hills, Y/n Y/l/n!”

    Derek froze, then glanced over his shoulder.

    “Wait a second,” Stiles said. “Is that-?”

    “It’s her.” Derek sounded tired. 

    Stiles looked over at Lydia, who was studying Derek intently. 

    “That’s not good,” Scott said with a frown. 

    As Lydia liked to say, you and Derek had a history, and a painful one at that. The two of you had been high-school sweethearts before the death of your parents, but the relationship crumbled when you were adopted by the Argents at sixteen. 

     After being raised with a moderate take on the supernatural, you were suddenly a part of one of the most violent and dogmatic hunting families in the country. Shortly after, Derek’s entire family was burned alive inside their home by Kate Argent, now your adopted older sister. 

     Needless to say, things were never the same between the two of you. You didn’t speak for almost a decade, and for a while, Derek didn’t think you ever would.

     Years later, when Scott brought a new generation of supernatural problems to town, the path of your lives still seemed hopelessly intertwined. You remained neutral at times, helping the pack mostly for Allison’s sake, but that meant rekindling some sort of relationship with Derek.

     You would disappear for months at a time, and when you did show up, it was always in the middle of whatever supernatural disaster was blowing through Beacon Hills that month. 

     Each time you came back, he was reminded of what could have been.

    After Allison died, you took a step back, blending into the background once again...until you learned that Kate was still alive. 

    Scott always believed you meant well, but your recklessness had gotten in the way more than once. At the end of the day, you had your own priorities.

     You preferred to think of yourself as dedicated to your mission. So what if you got in the way of every carefully crafted plan the pack made? You had your own way of doing things, and it was faster and more effective. 

     At this point, you would kill Kate and anyone working for her if you had to.  You weren’t going to justify that to Scott or anyone else. You didn’t need to.

     Down at the bar, Stiles narrowed his eyes.

     “Anyone else think it’s weird that she’s here at the exact same time as us?”

     Lydia rolled her eyes.

     Derek slammed his beer down onto the counter. The Redhead jumped, startled, as he lunged from his seat.

     The legs of the stool scraped against the cement floor as he moved, though it was barely audible under the heavy base and your crooning voice.

     Before he could shove his way through the crowd, Scott grabbed his arm.

      “What are you doing?” he hissed. “We’re supposed to be laying low.”

     “It won’t matter if she gets to Kincaid first! She’ll make a scene in front of everybody. Kate will know we’re onto her and be gone by morning.”

     “What are you gonna do, Derek?” Stiles cut in. “Just pull her off stage?”

     “I’ll drag her down by her hair if I have to.”

     “Someone’s bitter.”

     “That’s just going to cause a bigger scene,” Scott protested.

     “Oh for god’s sake,” Lydia breathed, throwing up her hands. “All three of you are ridiculous. Why don’t I just go talk to her?”

     “Because she’ll sweet talk you into letting her go,” Derek snapped. “I know you have a soft spot for her.”

     Stiles looked between the two of them with an uneasy glance. “I’m gonna have to agree with Derek on that one.”

     Lydia huffed. “She’s Allison’s godmother.”

     “Was,” Derek corrected. “She’s only looking out for herself now. Once she gets that location, she won’t tell us where it is. She’ll go there alone and get herself killed, then Kate will be in the wind again..and where does that leave us?”

     Lydia glared at him with sharp green eyes, but she couldn’t find it in herself to bite back a reply. As much as she wanted to believe you would help, she knew Derek was right. 

     “If we keep fighting we’ll never find Kate,” Scott pointed out.

     “You got a better idea?” Derek asked him.

     “Yeah, actually, I do.”

----

     “Great set, Y/n!”

     “You too!”

     You thanked the band and crew as you walked off stage, still feeling that natural high from performing. The cheers of the crowd echoed back into the dressing room, and you allowed yourself a moment of vanity as you enjoyed the sound. 

     Sweat was pooling at the back of your neck. You pulled a scrunchie from your bag and tied your hair into a bun, tucking it back in preparation for what was coming. 

     You reached into your boot, feeling for your knife just to make sure it was still there. You were just about to slip out of the dressing room when you heard an unfamiliar male voice calling your name. The person sounded like they had a thick, exaggerated southern accent.

     “Y/n? Hey, uh, are you in there?”

     You walked forward, but paused outside the curtain.

     “Who is it?”

     “Oh, uh, you don’t know me. I just thought your set was awesome, and uh, I just really wanted to see if I could get your autograph. I came all the way from the great state of Texas-”

     Suspicious, you yanked back the curtain. When you saw the figure standing outside the dressing room, you scoffed.

     “Stiles, what the fuck are you doing?”

     “Oh, hey!” he cried. “Heh, sorry I thought that you would think that was funny. It was just a little prank, you know? Uh...I just wanted to come say hey. We haven’t seen each other in forever and I saw you on stage…”

     “Stiles, you don’t like me,” you reminded him, crossing your arms over your chest.

     He feigned surprise. “Wh-what?! Me? Come on, I mean, I admire your unorthodox methods, actually-”

     Before he could speak another word, you had pulled the knife from your boot and shoved him up against the nearest wall. He gulped as you placed the blade at his throat. 

     “I know you’re trying to stop me.” 

     “Hey, hey, hey! I-I’m just trying to help. I swear!” 

     “You can tell Scott I don’t need anyone’s help.”

     “Y-yeah. I can...I can, uh, pass that on.”

     You glared at him, but pulled the knife away from his throat nonetheless. You stormed off, leaving him still plastered against the wall, too scared to move. 

     You headed for the sound booth where your informant was working tonight, shaking your head in disbelief.  

     You couldn’t believe that Scott and the others had the nerve to get in your way. You knew they were trying to stop you from killing Kate. Scott didn’t believe in killing anyone, no matter what they had done. If he had it his way, Kate would never get what she deserved.

     You crept down through the building, headed toward the sound booth. You passed a few people on your way, but they were all working backstage and seemed to be too busy with their own jobs to give you much thought. A few recognized you and gave a quick wave, but that was about it.

     When you made it to the room the sound booth was in, you peered through the heavy metal door, which was cracked and propped open with a brick. You could see your informant sitting in a folding chair in front of the sound equipment. 

     He was wearing a dark, baggy hoodie with the hood pulled up. He seemed smaller than you anticipated, though it was hard to see in the dim room. The only light came from the glow of the soundboard and speakers.

     Your fingers tightened around the knife, ready to put it against the man’s throat. It would be easy enough to get Kate’s location. Most people were willing to talk with a blade pressed to their jugular vein. 

     You reached forward and yanked down the hood, intending to press the blade down. When you did, you saw a long shock of familiar, strawberry blonde hair spill down from the hood. 

     “Lydia?!”

     You stumbled back in shock. She rose from the chair and turned to face you, looking guilty the whole time. “What the hell are you doing?!”

     “Trying to stop you from doing something stupid!” 

     “You have no idea what I’m doing!”

     You turned, intending to run out the door in search of the informant, but she reached out to grasp your arm. “Y/n, wait!”

     You reluctantly turned back to face her. “What?”

     “Allison wouldn’t want you to do this.”

     You felt a pang in your chest. Lydia was telling the truth. Allison would want you to be a team player, to ask for help, but you could never bring yourself to do that. 

      In the end, it didn’t matter. She was dead anyway. 

     “You don’t understand. I have to do this. I have to find Kate.”

     Lydia frowned. The look in your eyes was desperate, almost crazed. You really did believe what you were saying. 

     “Y/n, we’re working on it.”

     You huffed. “Not quick enough!”

     “Why can’t you just let us help?” she cried. “You can trust us.”

     “Scott will never let me kill her, Lydia. Don’t you understand? As long as she’s alive, she’ll never stop.”

     “Scott’s not the only one who wants to help.”

     “Derek would never go against Scott. He comes first.”

      “Are you sure about that?”

     You paused. “Yes.”

     She raised an eyebrow. “You hesitated.”

     “Let go of me, Lydia. You can’t stop me.”

     She stared at you for a moment, her green eyes dark and troubled. “I know.”

     She released your wrist, and you stalked out of the room and down the hall. You rubbed at the marks her pink-painted nails had left in your skin. 

     You didn’t have time to analyze what she said, but a part of you had latched onto her words as you raced down the hall. Maybe at one point, Derek would have put you before anyone, but that was a long time ago. You weren’t sure why she would think that now.

     You shook away those thoughts, trying to focus on where the informant could have gone. If the whole pack was here, that meant they had their own plan. 

     You had known Scott for a long time, and Derek even longer. If they wanted to meet with someone, they’d want to do it somewhere private and away from the crowds.

     After exploring the warehouse for a few minutes, you noticed a rusty metal door on your right. The faded red paint on it told you that it led to a fire escape. You opened it and slipped outside, stepping onto a rickety metal platform. 

     You had a good vantage point from the second floor, and you could see that you were standing at the back of the building. A few cars and vans were parked below you, no doubt from people working the event or transporting equipment. 

     There were some flood lights attached to the building that cast a dim glow and illuminated the pavement lot below. Even with the light, you didn’t see anything worth noting. 

     A breeze blew past you as you leaned over the fire escape. You welcomed the sensation of the cool air on the back of your neck, but you still had work to do. You were just about to turn to go back inside when you heard the creaking of a metal door opening below. 

     You pressed yourself back against the fire escape, keeping to the shadows as voices began to drift up from below. You didn’t recognize the second voice, but you could tell the first one was Scott’s.

     “I appreciate you meeting me here.”

     “I’d appreciate my wire transfer.”

     You peered down through the holes in the metal platform. Scott and another man were standing next to the warehouse door, carefully keeping out of the light. Someone else was standing next to Scott, but you couldn’t see who it was from that angle.

      You could see that the informant was huge, definitely bigger than Scott. His hair seemed to be completely gone or buzzed very close to his head. 

     “Woah, woah, hold on. We already sent you the money, Kincaid”

     That was Stiles, but where was Derek?    

     “That was the fee for a meeting. If you want information, it’ll cost you more.”

     You rolled your eyes. Kincaid was right under the fire escape. If you jumped over the ledge and took him down, you would catch him off guard. With a little force, you were sure he would give up Kate’s location.

    You stood up, ready to leap over the edge of the fire escape. Before you could make another move, the door behind you flew open.

    A hand clamped down over your mouth and an arm snaked around your waist. Before you had time to react, you were being yanked back through the door and into the warehouse. The door slammed shut in front of you. 

    You bit down on the fingers covering your lips.

    “Ow! What the fuck?!”

    The hands dropped you, and you stumbled forward, trying to balance yourself. Derek was standing there, a sullen look on his face as he shook out his hand. You could see a tiny trickle of blood dripping from his fingers. 

    You shoved past him and ran toward the fire escape door, but when you reached out, the handle was gone. In its place was a broken metal stub. 

    When you glanced back at Derek, he smirked and pulled the crumpled metal handle from behind his back. He had pulled the door handle right off. 

     “Looking for something?”

    “What the hell is the matter with you?” you demanded.

    “What’s the matter with you? Are you trying to get arrested?”

    “The Sheriff wouldn’t arrest me.”

    “You’re drawing too much attention,” he insisted. “What was your plan, huh? Just tackle Kincaid?”

    You scoffed and rolled your eyes. “Maybe.”

    “Why do you always have to do things the hard way?”

    “Because my way is faster…and, no offense, but it doesn’t look like you and your little band of heroes got any information either.”

     Derek was fuming. His green eyes were cloudy and dark. He was clenching his jaw and his hands were curled into fists. It would have been hot if it weren’t so annoying.

    You started to turn away, but Derek grabbed your wrist. You gritted your teeth. 

    “Get the fuck off me.”

    “You’re going to get yourself killed.”

    “I don’t care.”

    You tried to pull your wrist from his grip, but you couldn’t compete with his strength. He stepped forward, caging you in against the wall. 

     The cement was cold against your back as he pinned your wrists above your head. He stared at you, his expression unreadable.  

     “That’s your fucking problem. You don’t care, but they do. Do you have any idea how upset they would be if something happened to you?”

    He nodded at the wall behind him. Scott and the rest of his pack were on the other side of it with Kincaid, stealing the information you had fought so hard to get.

    “Just them?” you asked. “Or you too?”

    There was a cool glint in his eyes, and you could only imagine the memories that were flitting around in his head. It was no use though. You were trying to hit a nerve that had lost feeling a long time ago.

    When he didn’t answer, you flashed him a bitter smile. “Don’t worry, Derek. I know you still hate me.”

    His eyes held yours for a moment. He looked like he wanted to say something, but before he could, his phone rang. 

    With one hand, he reached down and pulled it from his jeans. “Yeah?”

    You could hear Scott’s muted voice on the other end of the phone. “Kincaid ran.”

    Derek’s mouth formed a grim line. “What?”

    “He got spooked when you pulled Y/n back inside. I think he thought she was one of Monroe’s hunters.”

    Derek closed his eyes and let out an exhausted sigh. “Alright. Thanks.”

     Without another word, he dropped your wrists and stepped back. You kept your eyes trained on the cement floor, avoiding Derek’s at all costs. You couldn’t stand to see his sullen, puppy-dog eyes and the disappointment they held.

     You turned away from him and headed back toward the dressing room, but before you could get far, he called out to you.

    “I don’t.”

    You paused, glancing back over your shoulder. “What?”

    “I don’t hate you.”

    You swallowed. “Well, maybe you should.”

    Derek frowned as you turned away. Every cell in his body was aching for him to follow you down the shadowy hallway. There was so much he wanted you to know, but it had been so long since you had let him close.

    Maybe that was his fault for pushing you away so carelessly. It had been years since then, but he had accused you of helping Kate start the fire that killed his family. 

     He knew you were forced into training as a young hunter. He knew she had used you just as much as she had used him. At the time, he didn’t care. He was so angry, and even though you had loved him, Kate planted the seeds of doubt in his mind long before the fire.

     Derek let himself be manipulated by her, and, even a decade later, he had never managed to heal your relationship. He wasn’t sure if he ever would.

#teen wolf #teen wolf imagines #teen wolf imagine #selfignitingimagines #derek hale #derek hale imagines

[selfignitingimagines]

“You come back from a trip to the East, but you don’t come back from the dead.”

Argent! Twin AU mood board based on the new clip from the Teen Wolf movie.

#teen wolf #selfignitingimagines #teen wolf imagines

[selfignitingimagines]

Liam- Badass

A/N: This one has been in my ask box for a really long time, but I hope you guys enjoy it! I’ve been rewatching season 6, and Liam has grown on me a lot as a character!

Request:  Hi can you plz do a review where (based in season 6 episode 14 where everyone Is judging Liam and all that) and the reader is trying to be nice to him and be his friend when no one else will but Nolan has a crush on her and that is another reason he wants Liam to change so she can she the “monster” he is thx❤️❤️😘

“Find anything interesting?”

You jumped. The voice had startled you as it came from behind a library shelf. When you turned, a pair of blue eyes caught yours through an empty space between books.

“Sorry,” Nolan Holloway apologized, smiling sheepishly as he came around to your aisle. “I wasn’t trying to scare you.”

“It’s fine,” you told him. “I was just trying to find another copy of the bio textbook for Liam. He forgot his.”

Nolan glanced back toward the collection of tables in the middle of the school library. One was occupied by Liam, Mason and Corey, with a single empty seat waiting for you. 

“Study group?” he asked. 

“Sort of,” you told him. “It was kind of spontaneous.”

He nodded. “You know, I don’t really get why you hang out with those guys. Mason and Corey, I sort of understand, but Liam? He just seems like he’s hiding something.”

You raised your eyebrows. It wasn’t the first time someone had questioned your friendship with Liam because of his temper, but Nolan seemed to be talking about something else entirely.  “What do you mean?”

“You have to notice all the weird stuff that goes on around here, right?” 

“I think everyone does.”

“Yeah, so haven’t you noticed that they’re always at the center of it all?”

“Not really, no,” you told him. “You sure you’re not imagining things? The bio exam is coming up and I don’t think anyone is getting much sleep…”

You trailed off as you noticed he was still staring at your friends. You were about to just back up and leave when he turned to you. 

“I’m not sleep-deprived. I just pay attention. I pay attention to you too, you know.”

He had this strange, intense look in his eyes, and you were suddenly uncomfortable.

“Okay,” you agreed, struggling to keep a polite smile on your face. “Well, I’ve gotta get back to studying so…”

You trailed off and turned, quickly walking back to your table. 

“There aren’t any more books,” you told Liam.

“That’s fine. We can just share...hey, are you okay?”

Liam had seen Nolan getting a little too close to you over by the bookshelves. He knew he had a tendency to be a little overprotective, and, as Mason had also pointed out, a little too jealous. Maybe he didn’t have a right to be, but there were many times that he couldn’t help it. He had heard the way the other lacrosse players talked about you in the locker room. 

Nolan himself had said a few disgusting things when he didn’t think Liam had heard him. Though he couldn’t confront his teammate outright, he made sure to check him extra hard at practice. 

Maybe that was why he had been so suspicious as he watched Nolan breathe down your neck while you searched for an extra textbook. Maybe it also had something to do with how much Liam cared for you, and the fact that Nolan seemed to be up to something worse than getting into your pants. 

You nodded as you sat down at the table. “Yeah, I’m okay. It’s just...I don’t know. Do you ever get the feeling like something bad is about to happen?”

Corey and Mason shared a concerned look, but Liam tilted his head. 

“Like what? We might fail the test? Cause I don’t think I need a feeling to tell me that.”

“Shut up,” you complained, feeling the worry roll off your shoulders. “We’re going to make sure you don’t.”

You scooted your chair closer to him and opened up the textbook you had left on the table. “Let’s start with Chapter Nine.”

He leaned in to read next to you and flashed you a grateful smile. You were just about to turn the page when a couple of books slammed onto the table. You flinched at the noise, instinctively moving closer to Liam. 

Nolan was standing at the edge of the table, smiling at the four of you. “Hey guys.”

“Hey, Nolan,” Mason said politely.

“Mind if I sit?” Nolan asked. 

Liam opened his mouth to protest, but Nolan was already pulling a fifth chair up to the table.

Corey glanced over and met your eyes. He had seen you talking to Nolan in the stacks, and by the way his eyebrows were raised you knew he was wondering if you had invited him over. You shook your head.

Mason cleared his throat. “Studying for the bio test?”

“Trying,” Nolan said with a strange grin, sitting down next to you. “Trying to understand how organisms evolve and change.”

“I don’t think this is on the test,” Corey said hesitantly.

Nolan’s lips twitched, and he clicked the pen in his hands, over and over. He glanced around the table. “Do you think DNA changes?”

“If it’s damaged,” Mason told him. 

“I wonder if any of us have changed,” Nolan wondered aloud. “And if we did...would there be any way to tell?”

“Like a DNA test?”.

Nolan smiled as he turned the pen over in his hands. “I was thinking a different type of test.” 

Liam stood up suddenly. 

“You know what, Nolan? This is a private study group. Get lost.”

Nolan nodded, seeming to understand. He pushed himself up from the table, flashing you a warm smile. For a second, it seemed like he was going to leave. Then, looking right into your eyes, he stabbed his pen into Corey’s hand.

You let out a shriek, and Corey cried out as blood splashed onto the table. Now it was glistening on the wood and your textbook.

“What the hell is your problem?” Mason demanded, but Nolan wasn’t phased. 

He reached forward, jerking Corey’s hand up and holding it high for everyone in the library to see. The hole that should have been there was gone, like it had completely healed. 

“Look at him!” he snarled at you. “Look at him!”

The entire library was staring. Kids looked up from their textbooks and phones to find a sight that confused and terrified them. What they didn’t know, and what you didn’t know, was that this was only the beginning.

In seconds, Liam had shoved Nolan off of Corey, knocking him to the floor of the library. “Get the hell away from us. Now.”

Nolan glared at Liam, shoving himself up from the ground. He snatched his books from the table and glanced toward you. “See what I’m talking about?”

Then he stormed off, shoving the library doors open and disappearing into the darkened hallway. 

When you looked back, Corey, Liam, and Mason were all eyeing you carefully, as if you were an animal that might bite. You glanced at Corey’s completely healed hand, and you made a decision that would define everything that came after that night. 

“Nolan is nuts,” you said firmly. “Let’s go study at my house.”

Their shoulders seemed to slump in relief, and Liam reached out to squeeze your hand.

You met his baby blue eyes, and a look of understanding passed between the two of you. What you had seen didn’t matter. These were your friends, and nothing could scare you away from them.

-----

It only took a few days for things to escalate to the unthinkable. Suddenly everyone was afraid of your friends.

You didn’t understand it. There had only been about ten other people in the library that night. Word shouldn’t have traveled that fast, and even if it had, what was there to be afraid of?

If Corey could suddenly heal from his injuries, that should have been a miracle. Unfortunately, not everyone thought that. 

When the three of you had walked into school that Monday, all people had done was stare or shy away from you and your friends. You couldn’t hear the whispers, but Liam seemed to be able to. He looked pained as you stood in front of your lockers. 

“Just block it out,” Mason assured him.

“They know,” Liam whispered nervously.

“It’s just rumors. They don’t know anything.”

You looked between the two of them. You didn’t know anything either, but you could at least tell that Liam and Corey were different. For some people, that was enough to be upset about.

Before you could interject, someone else did.

“They know everything,” Corey told them, coming up from the hallway behind you. “Two sophomores on the lacrosse team were there last night.”

Mason shook his head, still trying to convince Liam, and maybe himself, that things were okay. “Yeah, but it was late. It was pitch-black out, and there was fog on the road.”

Corey frowned. “It was a clear night, a full moon, and a well lit intersection.”

“Look, I have to get out of here,” Liam hissed. 

“No,” Mason insisted. “If you leave, these rumors never stop. You gotta just convince them that you’re a regular kid.”

“I’m not a regular kid.”

You blinked, looking between them. “Wait, what happened last night?”

The three of them shared a glance. No one said anything. 

“Look, you can tell me. I already saw what happened in the library. I don’t care.”

Liam and Corey hesitated, but Mason spoke up. “Okay, I’ll tell you.”

“Mason,” Corey hissed. 

“Come on, she already has all the pieces. She just hasn’t put them together yet. It’s safer for her to know the whole story.”

Corey didn’t look convinced. He was eyeing you carefully with his arms crossed over his chest. Defensive. 

“You’re right,” Liam told Mason, but when you looked into his eyes, he looked scared.

“Can you come with us?” Mason asked you.

You nodded and they led you away from the main hallway. You followed them into a quiet chemistry lab, where they locked the door behind them. There, they explained everything. 

Finding out that Liam and Corey were both supernatural creatures was a lot to take in. If there was nothing else going on, you might have needed more time to process everything. However, the news that a group of werewolf hunters was targeting and killing your friends seemed to override the shock. 

They explained that wasn’t their only problem, because after Liam had shifted in front of half the town last night, everyone, including the kids at your high school, seemed to know that he wasn’t human. 

“So,” you finally said. “What do we do?”

“Good question,” Liam said. “Cause I have no idea.”

“Remember what Scott said?” Mason asked him. 

Scott was the assistant coach for the lacrosse team, but he was only a couple years older than you. He hung out with you guys a lot, and he always seemed like a sweet, caring guy. You guessed he was probably in on the secret too. 

“He said ‘Be like Clark Kent’.”

Liam looked exasperated. “Clark Kent turns into a guy with a red and blue outfit and a cape. I turn into a monster with claws and fangs.”

“Then just get through the day without shifting,” Corey told him.

“Liam,” Mason said softly. “People are saying that Brett and Lori died in a car accident. We know the truth. They didn’t just die.”

You sucked in a breath. “They were murdered?”

Liam’s face softened. “The people who are after us are dangerous, Y/n. They’ll kill us, and anyone else that gets in the way. That means you too.”

“I don’t care,” you insisted. “You guys are my best friends. I’m not just gonna run and hide, especially if I can help.”

You reached out to grab his hand and squeeze it. His lips turned up at the corners, if only for a moment. 

“Then you’re with us now.”

You all agreed that Liam would try to keep cool. The rest of you would try to listen out for anything that might suggest someone was coming after him. Mason and Corey left the chemistry lab to head to their first period classes, leaving you and Liam alone together. 

You were both supposed to head to your own classes, but you lingered for a moment. 

“So...you’re not afraid?” he asked sheepishly. 

You shook your head. “Liam, I know who you are. Having claws and fangs doesn’t change that, even if it’s a little weird.”

He smiled. “A little?”

“Okay, maybe a lot,” you admitted with a grin. “But that just means you can eat the people that piss me off on a full moon.”

Liam frowned. “Werewolves don’t eat people on full moons.”

“So what do they do?”

“Exactly what we’ve been doing every full moon for the past two years. Eating junk food and playing video games.”

You thought for a moment. “And you have super reflexes?”

He nodded. “Yeah, basically.

 “So why do you suck so bad at COD then?”

Liam rolled his eyes, but he was still smiling. He was relieved you were still treating him the way you always had. Telling you about the supernatural was always something he had wanted to do. You were one of his best friends, and he had always felt wrong hiding it from you.

He had thought about admitting his secret countless times before, but something had always stopped him. What you didn’t know was that Liam had always thought of you as more than a friend. He was pretty sure you felt the same way, but he had never asked you out.

Scott had questioned him about it once on the way home from a pack movie night. They had dropped you off at home, and as he pulled away from the curb in his mom’s sedan, he was looking at Liam with a smile on his face. 

“What?” Liam had asked. 

“Why don’t you ask her out?”

Liam flushed. Scott grinned at him. “I haven’t seen you look at anyone like that since Hayden.”

“I don’t know,” Liam said. 

“What do you mean?” he asked. “She likes you too. You can’t tell?”

“I know she does. It’s just...with everything going on, I don’t want to drag her into this.”

Scott nodded. “I get it...but you can’t spend your whole life doing that.”

“Doing what?”

“Sacrificing your happiness to keep people safe. Even when you do that, they’re never really safe.”

“I don’t know,” Liam mumbled, glancing out the window into the darkness. 

“I had to learn that the hard way,” Scott had told him. “But maybe you do too.”

Now, as he stood across from you, he didn’t want to leave the chemistry lab. He wanted to hide in there with you for as long as he could and tell you everything, including how he felt about you. Before he could get the chance, you spoke. 

“Come on,” you said, nodding toward the hallway. “Let’s make sure you stay alive so I can beat your ass again this weekend.”

He had missed his moment, but he smiled at you anyway. “Can I walk you to class?”

“Duh.”

You looped your arm through his and headed out into the hall, ignoring the stares and fearful looks the entire way. 

------

You met up again in biology class, which you all had together. When you sat down at the table next to Liam, he pulled you close to whisper in your ear. 

Your heart skipped when he placed his hand on your arm, but he was too agitated to notice. 

“Nolan and Gabe are going to try to force me to shift. Corey said they’re going to block all the exits.”

You frowned. “Then we have to find a way to sneak you out.”

You glanced behind you, where Corey and Mason were sharing a table. 

“We’ve got a plan for that."

Mason explained that Corey could make himself and Liam invisible. They would sneak out down the halls and hopefully find an exit that wasn’t guarded by lacrosse players. 

When the bell finally rang, the four of you headed out of class. Corey and Liam slipped behind a pillar and disappeared into thin air. You and Mason led the way as they shuffled behind you, completely unseen. 

The four of you hurried through the school, but every exit you passed was blocked by an angry-looking lacrosse player.

“What do we do?” you muttered to Mason.

“Just keep going.”

You turned down another hallway, only to run right into Nolan. He was standing in the middle of the hallway with a few other lacrosse players. Gabe was right behind him. You and Mason stopped short at the sight.

“Hey guys,” Nolan said. His tone was casual, but there was no friendliness in his eyes.

Before you could attempt to go around him or the others, he stepped in front of you. His hands were curled tightly into fists.

“What are you doing?” you asked him.

“You should leave, Y/n. You shouldn’t get in the middle of all this. You’ll get hurt.”

You frowned. “Nolan, please.”

His gaze softened. He looked like he wanted to say something more, but then he simply opened his hand and blew a handful of white powder at you. The smell of flour drifted through the air as you and Mason were dusted. You felt terror grip you as you realized that Corey and Liam were covered too, making them suddenly visible.

You turned in horror, but before you could make a move, Gabe darted forward and threw Liam to the floor. Both Gabe and Nolan hauled him up, dragging him down the empty hall and into a deserted classroom. The other lacrosse players didn’t bother to grab you or Mason. Instead, they flooded into the classroom behind the others.

Some students passing by followed suit, eager to watch the fight they sensed was about to happen. 

“Wait here,” Mason told you, darting after them. 

He shoved his way into the classroom, ready to come to Liam’s rescue, but he was immediately grabbed by two lacrosse players. You frantically looked around for Corey, but he had disappeared again. You only hoped he was hiding somewhere safe, just in case they were planning on coming for him next. 

With Corey nowhere to be found, you shouldered your way into the classroom, but you were trapped behind the sea of kids trying to catch the action. 

You watched in horror as Nolan landed a punch to Liam’s face, causing blood to run from his nose. They shoved him to the ground, kicking and punching him. Every time Liam seemed to be close to snapping, he seemed to hold himself back. You were relieved, but you also weren’t sure how long he could keep that up.

“You’re fighting it!” you heard Nolan snap. 

Your blood boiled. You were sick to your stomach with both rage and terror. Liam was getting his ass handed to him. He couldn’t even fight back. 

You watched as Gabe snatched a tuft of Liam’s brown hair. He yanked him up from the classroom floor, only to slam his knee into Liam’s face. You flinched.

“What is going on here?!”

Suddenly the clicking of heels sounded from down the hallway. Mrs Finch was striding over, and the crowd of kids parted for her. Instead of looking angry, she just seemed scared as she realized what was happening. 

“Do something!” Mason pleaded, but Mrs. Finch just held up her hands, as if she were surrendering. 

“Sometimes it’s best to let them work things out on their own,” she told him, before turning back down the hall. 

Kids stared in shock, dumbfounded at her response. You took the opportunity to shove your way into the space she had left in the crowd. As you got closer, you saw that Liam was lying on his back. Blood was streaming from his nose, his mouth, and various other cuts on his face. 

Gabe was kneeling over him, punching him over and over. He raised his arm to land another blow, and that was when you moved forward. You had no idea what had gotten into you, but you couldn’t watch another second of Liam’s suffering. 

Gabe grunted in surprise as you knocked him to the ground. The two of you spilled onto the tiled floor, but he quickly recovered. He yanked your head back by your hair, causing you to cry out. 

Before you could register what was happening, pain was shooting through your skull. He had punched you so hard that it left you lying on the floor, dazed and seeing white for a few seconds. 

“Gabe-” Nolan began to say, but he was cut off. “Is this what’s gonna do it, Liam?” Gabe demanded, pulling you off the floor by your hair. “Maybe you won’t change if we beat your ass, but what about hers?”

Tears were streaming down your face, blurring your vision. You could still see Liam's eyes glowing yellow though. As much as it hurt, you weren’t willing to be the reason he shifted in front of everyone. 

“Liam,” you begged. “Don’t.”

You could taste your own blood on your lips. Judging by the look on Liam’s face, you probably looked terrible, even from the single punch. You knew they were going to do much worse.

Gabe balled his hand into a fist once more, and you closed your eyes, bracing for the next punch. 

“What the hell is going on?! Back off!”

Suddenly, Gabe was ripped off of you by the back of his shirt. His fingers uncurled from your hair, and you dropped to the ground on your hands and knees. 

“Get to the Principal's office now!” Coach Finstock was screaming. 

He had Gabe and Nolan by their shirts, and he practically tossed them out the door and into the hallway. He looked absolutely livid. You had never seen Coach so angry. He gazed out at the crowd of students around you.

“What the hell is this?” He demanded. “Get out, all of you! I can’t stand to look at your faces!”

The crowd dispersed, and Mason was let go. You scrambled over to Liam, who was still on his back. He was taking short, gasping breaths and his face was covered in his own blood, but he looked relieved. He coughed as the four of you, including Corey, who had reappeared, helped him off the ground. One of his arms was slung over your shoulder, and the other was slung over Mason’s.

Mason stared at him in awe. “I can’t believe you did that...and Y/n, I can’t believe you just tackled Gabe. That was insane.”

Liam nodded, looking between the three of you. “Clark Kent, right?” he muttered. 

“Yeah,” Mason breathed. “Clark Kent.”

Liam glanced over at you. He felt a lump in his throat when he saw the state of your face. There was a small gash on your cheek from where Gabe had punched you. A trickle of blood was making its way down to your jaw, and your lip was split open. The worst part was the bruising. The blood could be cleaned up, but the bruise that was beginning to form would be there for a while. That side of your face was also beginning to swell.

His blood was boiling. He wanted to tear Gabe and Nolan apart. In that moment, he didn’t care who saw. Then you spoke. 

“Liam,” you said softly. “I’m okay. I promise.”

You squeezed his hand. The feel of your fingers wrapped around his seemed to ground him. The tension melted from his shoulders. 

“Come on,” he said. “Let’s get out of here.”

------

“God, I have no idea how I’m going to explain what happened to your parents.”

You looked over at Liam from the passenger seat of his Toyota. He had a white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel. You raised your eyebrows.

“Why do you have to explain?” 

“Because I’m your best friend. I’m supposed to protect you...and everything that happened is my fault anyway.”

You lifted the bag of frozen peas that Coach had given you off your cheek. He had assured you it would bring down the swelling, but you were skeptical.  You pulled down the visor in front of you and glanced at your wounded face in the mirror. 

            Mason had cleaned the blood off with the lacrosse team first aid kit, but there was a visible gash where Gabe’s knuckles had connected with your cheekbone. The bruise, now a deep blue-ish purple, spread out across your cheek. Your lip was also busted and there was no way you’d be able to hide it.

“It’s not your fault. I’ll just tell my parents the truth. Someone was getting their ass kicked and I stepped in to stop them. Well, I tried anyway.”

“Okay, now you’re kind of making me sound like a little bitch.”

You shrugged, and you and Liam both burst out laughing. The movement in your face caused you to wince and Liam’s expression darkened. 

“I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to keep saying that.”

“I feel like I do.”

“You don’t,” you assured him. “Liam, none of this was your fault. It’s the hunters and Nolan, and that fucking psycho Gabe. Plus, I’m the one who tackled him…”

He didn’t answer right away. He was anxiously chewing on his lip, staring out the windshield. 

“Liam?”

“I think you need to leave town.”

You balked at him. “What? No way!”

“Gabe could have done a lot worse to you. Now he knows you’re involved. Staying here could get you killed. You and Mason both.”

“So what are we supposed to do?” you demanded. “Just run away?”

“Yeah. That’s exactly what you should do. I can’t protect you, Y/n. I can’t protect anyone.”

“I can protect myself-”

“No you can’t!” he snapped. “Look at your face!”

You flinched back at his sharp tone. Wordlessly, you turned away, slouching down in your seat to stare out the window. Maybe he was right, but his words had touched a nerve.

Liam wasn’t trying to hurt you, but he was terrified. If he couldn’t even protect you from Gabe, how was he supposed to protect you from trained hunters?

“Y/n...I’m sorry. I’m not saying you’re not strong. I just…I can’t lose you.”

You felt a flutter in your chest. Taking a deep breath, you looked back over at him. 

“Even if you can’t protect me, why would I leave you? If someone’s trying to kill you, I want to help. Even if it means getting hurt...even if it means dying. I can’t just leave.”

“I can’t be the reason something happens to you,” Liam protested. 

“You wouldn’t be,” you pointed out. “If these people are coming after you, that’s them. Not you.”

He shook his head and you could tell he was trying to work something out inside his head. He was about to turn down the street to Scott’s neighborhood, but he hesitated for a moment. You were both supposed to be at a pack meeting, but now he was having second thoughts about bringing you.

“Maybe I should just take you home. I promise I’ll come and get you as soon as this is over,” he swore.

“I can’t just leave you.”

“You can,” he insisted, pulling up to the nearest curb. Scott’s house was still a few blocks away. 

“If you want me to leave you, you’re gonna have to pick me up and carry me kicking and screaming out of town,” you told him stubbornly.

“Fine,” he said with a shrug. “Then that’s what I’ll do. I’ll throw you over my shoulder. I don’t care.”

You rolled your eyes. “You’re not serious.”

“I am!” he shouted. “You don’t realize how much danger you’re in.”

“You’re Clark Kent, right?” you demanded. “What if I’m Lois Lane then? I don’t remember her ever running away.”

He opened his mouth to protest. This wasn’t a comic book. It was real life, and you could die. But as you stared at him defiantly, he realized you already knew that. 

Asking you to leave him would have been like asking him to leave Scott and the others.

“Fine,” he said.

He put the car back into drive and pulled away from the curb. You drove in silence for a couple minutes, until he pulled into a driveway you presumed was Scott’s. There were several other cars out front. You recognized Stiles’ rickety, blue jeep right away, along with Lydia’s Martin’s Toyota and Scott’s motorcycle.

“Promise me you’ll just think about leaving?” he asked. “Just think about it.”

“Fine,” you told him.

Liam eyed you. “You’re lying.”

“So you can read minds now too?” you demanded. 

“Your heart skips when you lie. I can hear it.”

He slammed the door behind him, but came around to open yours for you nonetheless. You could tell he was pissed at you for saying you wouldn’t leave, but he would do the exact same thing and you knew it. 

As you followed Liam into the house, you saw a group of people clustered around the coffee table, examining a map. You recognized Scott, his mom, Malia, Lydia and two other men you didn’t know. One was tall with dark hair, and he was wearing a suit. There was an FBI badge hanging from his neck. The other was shorter, with piercing blue eyes. 

“...no one can leave,” the taller one was saying. “Gerard’s distributed all of his weapons throughout Beacon Hills, to anyone who wants them.”

The shorter one looked grim. “He’s arming his army.”

You turned toward Liam, wanting to ask what they were talking about. Before they could, Lydia, who had been staring vacantly out the window, yelled “Get down!”

She pulled Mason to the floor just as two arrows flew through the glass windows at the front of the house, shattering them. A bright flash spread across the room, blinding you just after you saw Malia shove Scott down. Liam tackled you to the floor, covering his body with yours.

Gunfire echoed across the room, and you felt a sharp, stinging pain in your side. You cried out, and Liam pressed himself harder on top of you. You closed your eyes, terrified of what would happen next. 

Suddenly, the gunfire stopped. You glanced up, and saw the taller man, who you now realized bore a striking resemblance to Scott, stand up. He must have been his father, you realized, as he drew his weapon from a holster on his side.

Liam pushed himself up, but when he did, he realized there was blood soaking through his t-shirt. When he felt for a wound, he realized it wasn’t his blood, but yours.

You were lying below him, and a pool of dark, red blood was staining your right side, soaking into your shirt and your jeans. 

“Liam, what happened?” you whispered. Your voice was soft and scared.

“No!” he shouted, looking around frantically for the others. 

But Mason and Melissa were both unconscious on the floor, lying in their own pools of blood, which were slowly widening on the floor. Lydia was bleeding, but awake, and she was using a hand to prop herself up using the coffee table. Scott’s dad was groaning in pain, one hand holding pressure over his bloody arm.

Everyone was hurt. Everyone needed help. 

When Liam looked back down at you, your eyes were closed. Your breathing was growing shallow, and he resisted the urge to scream. He reached down, frantically pressing both hands over your bleeding side. 

“Scott!” he cried. “What do we do?”

The alpha, riddled with bullet holes himself, struggled to his feet. 

“I don’t know.”

------

“You doing okay?”

Liam looked up at the sound of Scott’s voice. The older boy was looking down at him sympathetically, and Liam felt a twinge of annoyance. 

“Not really.”

“Mind if I sit?” Scott asked. 

“Sure,” Liam said, looking back down at the floor. 

The flimsy chair next to him groaned as Scott sat down. He had two plastic-wrapped breakfast bagels in his hands, one of which he held out to Liam. 

“No thanks.”

“Come on, you haven’t eaten since last night.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“Okay.” He set the bagels on the side table next to them. “You know the nurse said she was awake. You don’t wanna go see her?”

Liam was silent. His mouth was pressed into a grim line.

“Liam,” Scott said softly. “What happened wasn’t your fault.”

“I brought her to your house,” he grumbled. “I was trying to get her to leave town, but she wouldn’t. So I agreed that I wouldn’t make her.”

He shook his head in disbelief. “God, I should have just dragged her out of town myself.”

“She’ll be okay,” Scott reminded him. “The bullet didn’t hit anything important.”

“Yeah, and it’s a miracle it didn’t. I could have gotten her killed, Scott.”

Scott reached out, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Liam, look at me.”

Finally, he did. His blue eyes met Scott’s brown ones, and he felt himself tearing up, though he hated himself for it. He had forced himself not to cry all night, afraid that once he did, he would completely break down. 

But now, as the tears slipped down his cheeks, he couldn’t stop them. “It’s my fault she got hurt, Scott. This is what I was afraid of, and it happened.”

“None of this is your fault.”

Scott leaned over and brought Liam into a tight hug. “Remember when I told you that sacrificing your happiness doesn’t always keep people safe?”

Liam nodded. 

“You couldn’t have stopped this. Whoever was shooting at us was going to do it regardless. Who’s to say they wouldn’t have gone after her when you weren’t with her?”

“I could have made her leave town though.”

“No you couldn’t have. Making her leave you would have been like making you leave us. You never would have done it.”

“Maybe you’re right.”

Scott smiled and pulled away from the younger boy. “I know I’m right. I’ve been doing this for a while, remember? I know you feel like you’re responsible, but you’re not. She made her choice, and it was the exact same one you would have made.”

Liam nodded. 

“I think you’re perfect for each other, actually,” Scott continued. “You’re both stubborn as hell.”

“Yeah,” Liam said with a soft laugh. “We are.”

“Go see her. I’m sure you guys have a lot to talk about.”

Liam nodded and rose to his feet. “Thanks.”

Scott smiled in response, and Liam headed down the hall to your room. The nurse had given him the number a few hours ago, but he was afraid to visit you. He knew you wouldn’t be mad at him, but it was his own guilt he hadn’t been able to get past. Now he knew he couldn’t control what happened to you, and it wasn’t fair to punish you by staying away. 

He knocked on the wooden door, and heard your soft voice say “Come in.”

When he pushed it open, you were lying there, propped up against the pillows. You smiled when he entered, and he felt relief rush through him. Even in a hospital gown, you still looked beautiful.

He strode forward and leaned in, wrapping his arms around you. You buried your face in his shoulder, hugging him back. 

“I was worried you weren’t going to show,” you admitted. 

Liam flushed. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t sure if I should come.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” you told him. “I knew you’d feel like it was. That’s why I told Scott to go talk to you.”

He balked at you. “You...you told Scott to come talk to me?”

You nodded. “He came in to check on me once my parents left to eat. When you weren’t with him, I figured you’d be beating yourself up about it.”

Scott had been right. You really were perfect for each other. 

“You’re still in this mess because of me.”

“Yeah, but I made the choice to stay. And I’d do it again in a heartbeat. You’re telling me you wouldn’t do the exact same thing?”

He sighed and lowered himself down into the chair next to your bed. “No, I would’ve.”

“Look, there’s something I need to tell you,” you admitted. “I could never have left you, Liam. I know you wanted me to go, but if I’m gonna die, I’d rather do it with you. I love you too much to run away.”

He reached out, placing his hand over yours. “It wasn’t like I wanted to be away from you. I just thought that you would be safer. I was afraid of...well, this.”

He gestured to you, lying in the hospital bed. 

“Oh come on,” you said with a roll of your eyes. “I’m fine. Plus, I’m gonna have a kickass scar. It’ll be just like a video game.”

You reached down and pulled up your hospital gown, revealing the gauze over your side. “I’m gonna look like a total badass.”

Liam grinned. “You already are a total badass.”

You smiled up at him, and he felt his heart skip. Without hesitating any longer, he leaned in, cupping your face with his hands and pressing a soft kiss to your lips. Being gentle wasn’t exactly his strong suit, but your bottom lip was still busted from when Gabe had punched you. 

“I love you,” he murmured, pulling back to look down at your face. “And whatever happens, I want you by my side.”

You nodded. “Me too.”

He pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, and you shifted to the other side of the hospital bed. You patted the space beside you. 

“Are we allowed to do that?” he asked. 

“I just got shot,” you complained. “I should be able to do whatever I want.”

Without another thought, Liam crawled up beside you. He wrapped an arm around your shoulders and pulled you close so that your side was pressed against his. You snuggled into him, and for the first time in months, he felt like everything would be okay.

#teen wolf #teen wolf imagines #Teen Wolf Ships #liam dunbar #liam dunbar imagines #selfignitingimagines

[selfignitingimagines]

Derek- I Think I Can Handle It

A/N- Well this was supposed to come out before Halloween, but spooky season is just a state of mind anyway. I’ve been doing a season 3 rewatch and angsty Derek is *chef’s kiss*. I hope you guys enjoy reading this one as much as I enjoyed writing it. 

Request- Hey :D! For the fall prompts, how about number 7 with Derek? Idk if you’ve done it before but it seems kinda fitting for him, thank you!

Derek sat inside his car, staring out through the windshield. He could see the shadow of the house looming in the darkness. It was barely visible, even with the moonlight shining down through the trees. 

He didn’t need to see it to know that it was deteriorating. Month after month, the burnt husk of his old home would sag further under the weight of dead leaves and fallen tree limbs. The wood continued to rot from the moisture and, inevitably, some stupid kids would trek out into the preserve to the see the sight of the worst thing that had ever happened to him. 

Every. Goddamn. Year.

It usually happened around Halloween, when the urge to be scared overcame the local population. Not that they needed it. Beacon Hills was scary enough as it was, although most people didn’t seem to realize it. 

He would never be able to understand why regular people continued to live in this town, raising their kids and commuting to work while monsters lurked around every corner.

Then again, it was probably for the same reason he didn’t demolish the old house. He just couldn’t let go. 

He reached for the thermos he kept in the center console. It was filled with chamomile tea he had brewed shortly before he left the loft. Lydia had told him once that it was supposed to be calming.

He was just about to take a sip when, like clockwork, a beam of light began to shine through the woods in front of him. It was headed right for the house. 

Derek sighed and set the thermos back down. So much for being calm.

He silently slipped out of the car and headed toward the light. He would go around the house on the other side and wait until the person passed. There, he would hide in the bushes and let out a feral growl. Without fail, the trespassers would freak out and run. 

As Derek headed down the hill from where he had parked the car, he smiled to himself. If they wanted to be scared, he would give them just that. 

He watched as the flashlight moved up toward the porch. Before he could take another step, the sound of wood splintering echoed up the hill. He heard a scream, and the unmistakable snap of human bone.

“Shit,” he muttered.

------

15 MINUTES EARLIER

“You cannot be serious.”

Your stomach churned as the car rolled to a stop. The headlights cast a glow on the old wooden sign at the edge of the woods. The printed words on it were faded and nearly scratched off. You could just barely make out them out. 

Beacon Hills Preserve.

Danny Mahealani looked over at you from the driver’s seat and grinned. “Deadly serious.”

“This is my dare? Go into the preserve at night?” you asked incredulously. “Do you know how many dead bodies they’ve found here?”

He rolled his brown eyes. “Duh. It wouldn’t be scary if they hadn’t. But you can’t just go into the preserve. That would be too easy.”

“What else do I have to do?”

“Find the abandoned Hale House and bring me back something to prove you were there.”

You swallowed nervously. You were beginning to regret coming home after graduation. 

Since it was the night before Halloween, Danny had insisted you play games in the spirit of the holiday, something he called “Mischief Night”. 

“I thought it was called Devil’s night,” you had pointed out earlier that day.

Danny had waved his hand as he sat on the edge of your bed.“Devil’s Night, Mischief Night, whatever. It doesn’t matter. But we’re both off tomorrow, and I want to do something fun for once!”

“By playing truth or dare?”

“Yeah, but the stakes are upped. If you don’t do something, you have to prank someone.”

“I think you miss high school a little too much.”

“I just miss pranking Coach Finstock.”

“Fine, if it makes you feel better, we can play. As long as I get to crack open a bottle of wine after.”

Now, as you were sitting in the passenger seat of his Toyota, wondering why you had offered to go first. 

“This is stupid,” you told Danny. “Isn’t the Hale House private property? And didn’t it pretty much burn to the ground? What happens if a rafter falls on my head or something?”

“Oh come on, if you die, you don’t have to pay off your student loans.”

“True,” you muttered. “But that doesn’t mean I want to.”

“Y/n,” Danny complained. “You work at a grocery store. Your degree means nothing and you’re not dating anyone. You literally have no excitement in your life. Don’t you wanna live a little?”

You huffed. He had a point. “Fine. I’ll do it. But only this one.”

“You don’t want to give me a dare?”

“Unlike you, I don’t enjoy trying to get my friends killed.”

Danny simply shrugged and handed you a flashlight he had pulled from the center console. 

“It shouldn’t be that far. The old driveway should be about half a mile into the woods.”

You shook your head in disbelief and got out of the car. Just as you stepped over the chain hanging over the path, Danny rolled down his window.

“Get me a piece of burned wood or something so I know you actually did it!”

“You’re a dick!” you yelled back.

You trekked into the woods nonetheless.

Danny was right. It was easy enough to find the old gravel driveway as you crunched through dead leaves. From there, it seemed to take forever to walk up to the house. The Hales had been prominent figures in town before they died, but they clearly enjoyed their privacy.

When you finally made it to the burnt shell of the house, you stared up at it in awe. While it was dark, the moon outside illuminated its hulking form. It was practically a mansion, or at least it had been at one point in time.

You shined your flashlight onto the structure, illuminating the charred walls and window frames. The glass over the windows was either broken or completely missing, and the only thing that looked like it might have been touched up was the front door. The red paint on it looked to only be a few years old, though it was scratched up a bit.

You wondered why someone would only paint the door and not try to fix anything else. Maybe they started a project that they didn’t have the heart to finish. If it were your entire family that died in that house, you weren’t sure you would be able to come back to the property at all. 

The death of the Hale family was a gruesome part of Beacon Hills’ history, and that was saying something. Even for a town that seemed to be plagued by murders and suspicious deaths, Kate Argent burning an entire family alive was one of the worst things that had ever happened there.

It sent a chill down your spine just thinking about what it must have been like to die in that way. You looked around, trying to find something you could bring back to Danny. This place was starting to freak you out. 

You shined the flashlight up onto the porch and noticed a loose scrap of wood that must have broken off a window pane. It was small enough to carry in one hand, and looked like it was still stained with soot. 

You stepped up onto the porch steps, but before you could get to the top, the wood caved in from underneath you. Your right foot went straight through the rotted board and hit the earth beneath at an odd angle. You felt a sharp, stabbing pain so intense that your vision went black for a few moments. 

When you opened your eyes, you were on the ground, lying in a pile of damp leaves and rotten wood. With a groan, you pulled yourself onto your side. When you tried to move, you gasped in pain. There was something wrong with your ankle. 

You glanced around, looking desperately for the flashlight Danny had given you. It must have rolled a few feet away when you fell, but you could just barely grasp it with your fingers. 

You snatched it from the dirt and shined it onto the end of your leg. What you saw made you gag. It was purple and swollen, and twisted at an odd angle. You had probably broken it.

“Shit,” you gasped.

You fumbled for your phone, pulling it out of your jacket pocket. You attempted to call Danny, but you quickly realized there was no signal in the woods. 

Derek watched from nearby as you pulled yourself up. He was surprised to see that you didn’t look as young as he thought you would be. You definitely weren’t a teenager. 

“Oh my god,” you muttered to yourself. “This is the stupidest thing I’ve ever done.”

Derek’s lips twitched. “Agreed.”

You jumped, wincing in pain from the sudden movement of your ankle.

When you shined the flashlight over toward the voice, you could see a man standing a few yards away in the dead leaves. He had on jeans and a leather jacket, but he was shielding his face from the light. 

“Can you stop shining that into my eyes?”

“Oh my god, sorry.”

You tilted it down, and he pulled out a light of his own. Judging by the shape, he was using his phone flashlight.

He walked over and knelt next to you, examining the state of your ankle. “Yeah. I’d say that was pretty stupid. You know this is private property, don’t you?”

You swallowed nervously. He didn’t seem angry, but his voice was stern. He couldn’t have been that much older than you, and it was embarrassing to have another adult look so disappointed in you. 

“I wasn’t sure,” you told him honestly. “Look, I’m really sorry.”

He knelt down next to you, and you were able to see his face clearly. He had a scruffy beard and light-colored eyes, though you couldn’t be sure of the exact color in the dark. He looked like he was in his late twenties.

That was when you realized you knew who the man was. It was Derek Hale...and he had just caught you trespassing in the place where his entire family died.

“You look a little old to be breaking into abandoned houses.”

“I wasn’t trying to break in,” you protested. “It was a dare…and that doesn’t make it sound any better.”

He simply stared at you with one bushy eyebrow raised. 

“You’re right,” you said. “It was stupid.”

Derek nodded. Out of all the years he had scared people off the property, no one had ever gotten hurt there. He felt a sinking feeling in his chest, wondering if that meant it was finally time to tear it down. 

“Hey, are you okay?”

“I...uh, yeah. Sorry. We should probably get you out of here.”

He looked down at your face, and suddenly got the bizarre feeling that he knew you. He must have seen you somewhere before, maybe around town. 

“You’re not going to call the cops are you?” you asked hesitantly.

That was when it hit him. You did look familiar, but it wasn’t because he had seen you before at all. 

“Do you know Stiles Stilinski?”

You groaned. “He’s my cousin.”

Derek laughed softly. “I’m guessing you two aren’t close?”

“Not really. To be honest, I think he’s kind of annoying.”

“He’s actually a good friend of mine,” Derek admitted.

You flushed. “Oh, um, sorry.”

Great, you thought to yourself. You had trespassed on this guy’s property and now you were insulting his friend. You were surprised he hadn’t already left you there to hobble back to the car alone.

“But he is annoying.”

He smiled at you, and you felt your shoulders sag in relief. 

“Did you drive here?” he asked. 

You shook your head. “No, my friend Danny drove us. He’s waiting by the entrance. You know, the one with the Jurassic Park looking sign?”

“I know it. I can take you.”

He reached down, and before you realized what was happening, he scooped you up bridal style. “Put your arms around my neck.”

Awkwardly, you listened to him, wrapping your arms around him. You clung to the smooth leather of his jacket as he carried you up the hill, a little worried that he wouldn’t make it up the slope of the hill with you in his arms.

“Don’t worry. I won’t drop you.”

It was as if he could tell exactly what you were thinking. 

“Are you sure? Because I can definitely try to walk…”

He couldn’t help but tease you.

“Are you scared?”

“Of you dropping me down this hill and breaking another bone? Yes!”

Derek suppressed the urge to burst out laughing. Maybe you  had more in common with Stiles than you thought.

“Just hold on to me,” he said. “Besides, you’re shivering anyway.”

Though you hadn’t realized it, you were trembling from the cold. Your clothes were damp from the wet ground, and it was unseasonably cold, even for Beacon Hills. 

You hated to admit it, but Derek’s jacket was warm, and he was even warmer. The heat radiating from his chest made you want to snuggle in and fall asleep. 

You immediately felt embarrassed, suddenly aware that this guy was practically a stranger, and that you were having these thoughts about him after you had trespassed on his property. He was probably going to drive you straight to the police station once you got out of the woods. 

“I’m not going to call the cops on you,” he said, as if he could sense your anxiety. “Isn’t the Sheriff your uncle anyway?”

“That’s exactly what I’m worried about,” you admitted. “I can’t have another person thinking I’m a fuck up.”

The words came out of your mouth before you could stop yourself. You went red, shocked that you were being so honest with someone you didn’t even know. 

“Why do you say that?” Derek asked thoughtfully.

You remained silent for a few moments, but for whatever reason, you felt like he might be able to understand. 

“I have no idea what I’m doing,” you admitted. “I just graduated with a degree in English and everyone is saying I made a mistake. My whole family is disappointed in me.”

“Were you doing it because that was what you wanted?”

“Yeah. I’ve always loved words and books. I thought maybe I could be a writer, but obviously it’s not that easy...and now I work at a grocery store. Everybody is telling me that I should have done something else.”

Derek smiled to himself. “I have an English degree.”

You blinked. “You do?”

“Yeah. My dad always loved the classics. I guess he passed that onto me, so when I left town and went to New York, that’s what I majored in.”

“And no one ever criticized you for it?”

“Oh definitely. At that point I just didn’t care.”

“Huh.That’s cool.”

“Have you ever thought about teaching?”

“In Beacon Hills? Yeah. But all our teachers seem to have a habit of disappearing or dying.”

“But if that wasn’t the case?”

“I think I’d like it. Getting to teach kids to love English would be cool...you know, despite the low survival rate.”

Derek laughed. A few yards ahead, you could see Danny’s headlights shining through the trees. 

“I think you should look into it.”

Before you could respond, Danny’s voice called out through the trees. 

“Y/n?! Is that you?”

He was standing at the edge of the woods as Derek’s flashlight beam began to shine out through the trees. When he saw the light coming toward him, he let out a sigh of relief. For the last few minutes, he thought he might have actually gotten you killed. 

Then, as Derek stepped into the pool of light cast by the car’s headlights, Danny’s jaw dropped. 

“Hey,” you said. 

He stood there, looking from you to Derek. “Uh...you wanna fill me in?”

“I went through a porch.”

“Um, okay…”

Danny continued to stare at Derek, and you couldn't help but feel like the two of them knew each other. Maybe Danny had recognized him from all the news about the fire, but how would Derek have known Danny?

“You need to take her to the hospital,” Derek told him. “I think she broke her ankle.”

Danny stood there for a few moments, still staring, until Derek raised an eyebrow. 

“Are you gonna open the door or not?”

Danny scrambled for the door handle and pulled it open. You gave him a questioning look, but he wouldn’t meet your eyes. 

Derek set you down gently in the passenger seat. You flinched at the pain as your foot touched the floor, but you were distracted by the sight of Derek stripping off his jacket. 

“What are you doing?”

“Here,” he offered, holding it out to you. “You’re still cold.”

He was wearing an olive green henley underneath, but it didn’t look nearly thick enough to shelter him from the chill.

“Won’t you be cold when you walk back through the woods?”

He shrugged. “I think I can handle it.”

He gestured for you to hold out your arms. You felt your cheeks growing warm again as he leaned in and wrapped the jacket around you. He buttoned it up to your chin, then smoothed out the lapels. 

When you looked up at him, there was a softness in his green eyes that he hadn’t had while talking to Danny. He smiled at you, revealing a set white teeth with a slight overbite.

“How will I get it back to you?” you asked. 

He shrugged. “I’ll find you. Plus Danny has my number.”

You blinked. “He does?”

“Yeah, he can explain that one to you himself.”

Before you could respond, Derek turned away with a smile and shut the door. He walked around to the other side of the car and placed one hand on Danny’s shoulder. While it looked innocent enough to you as you watched through the window, he was squeezing Danny’s scapula hard enough to break it. 

Danny grunted in pain as Derek pulled him closer. 

“You know what’s in these woods,” he hissed. “Why the hell would you send her out there alone?”

“I thought it was safe. Nothing’s happened in months!”

“You could have gotten her killed.”

“Okay, I get it!”

“If you ever do something like this again, I’m gonna rip your throat out.”

“Okay!” Danny cried. “I swear it won’t happen again.”

Derek let go of him. “Good.”

Danny began to rub his shoulder, wincing at the movement.

“God, Stiles was right,” he muttered.  “You are dramatic.”

Derek rolled his eyes. “Take her to the hospital...and give her my number.”

He shot Derek a sullen look and opened the driver side door. “Fine. I’m sure I’ll see you later, Miguel.”

Derek suppressed the urge to burst out laughing. As Danny drove you away, he could hear you peppering him with questions.

 “What was he talking about? And who’s Miguel?”

He watched Danny’s tail lights disappear down the desolate road. He waited until their glow faded and then headed back into the preserve, thinking about you the entire walk back. 

When he got back into the car, the first thing he did was text Stiles.

I need your cousin’s phone number.

#teen wolf imagines #teen wolf #derek hale imagines #derek hale #@bellabadacadabra #selfignitingimagines #Teen Wolf Ships

[selfignitingimagines]

Stiles- I Need You (Obsessed Part 5)

A/N- Sorry for the delay on this one, but part 5 is finally here! I’m thinking I might end the series with part 6. If you’d like to be tagged in the next part, please let me know!

Stiles sat in the chair across from Ms. Morrel’s desk, fiddling with the mesh on his lacrosse stick. The early morning sun was shining brightly through the windows of the guidance office. It was a nice day, but after the events of the previous week, he couldn’t bring himself to enjoy it. 

Ms. Morrell had invited him in for a counseling session that his dad had pretty much forced him to attend. After the events of Matt’s murderous rampage and his subsequent death, Sheriff Stilinski had coordinated visits with the guidance office for everyone involved. 

Stiles wasn’t sure if you or Scott had gone to yours yet. The three of you weren’t really talking. 

He didn’t exactly want to talk either, but Ms. Morrell had sat him down in the cold leather chair and told him they could start wherever he wanted. As he strung the mesh into netting, looping it through his fingers over and over, he said the first thing that was on his mind.

“You know when you’re drowning, you don’t actually inhale until right before you black out. It’s called voluntary apnea. It’s like no matter how much you’re freaking out, the instinct to not let any water in is so strong that you won’t open your mouth until you feel like your head’s exploding.”

Stiles had researched drowning on one particularly sleepless night at the end of spring break. Scott wasn’t really talking much, and you were simply ignoring him. All he could think about was Matt and what he had done to you, and why he had done it in the first place. 

After learning more, he concluded that Matt’s childhood trauma from being tossed into that pool wasn’t a good enough excuse, at least not for him. 

“Then,” he continued. “When you finally do let it in, that’s when it stops hurting. It’s not scary anymore. It’s actually kind of peaceful.”

“Are you saying that you hope Matt felt some peace in his last moments?”

Stiles sighed, finally looking up from the lacrosse stick. Morrell gazed at him from behind her desk. Her expression was completely neutral. 

“I don’t feel sorry for him,” he told her. 

Morrell clasped her hands together in her lap. “Can you feel sorry for the nine year old Matt who drowned?”

Stiles frowned. “Just because a bunch of dumbasses dragged him into a pull when he couldn’t swim…that doesn’t really give him the right to go off killing them one by one.”

Ms. Morrell leaned back in her chair, studying him. Stiles could tell he was getting heated. His voice was getting louder and louder as he spoke, but he couldn’t stop himself. 

“And by the way, my dad told me they found a bunch of pictures of Y/n on Matt’s computer...and not just of her though. I mean, he photoshopped himself into these pictures, stuff like them holding hands and kissing. You know, like he had built this whole fake relationship in his head. So yeah, maybe drowning when he was nine years old was what set him off the rails, but the dude was definitely riding the crazy train.”

He could practically feel his blood boiling as he explained what his dad had found. No wonder you had been so freaked out when you finally escaped from Matt. Stiles wasn’t sure what kind of sick fantasy he was trying to live out by kidnapping you, but whatever it was had clearly messed you up. 

Ms. Morrell listened thoughtfully with one hand resting on her chin. “One positive thing came out of this though, right?”

“Yeah,” Stiles agreed. “Yeah, my dad got his job back, but I still feel like there’s something wrong between us. Just like...tension when we talk. Same thing with Scott.”

“Have you talked to him since that night?”

Stiles shook his head, twirling the lacrosse stick over in his hands. “No. Not really. I mean, he’s got his own problems to worry about. I don’t think he’s talked with Allison either, but that might be more her choice, you know? Her mom dying hit her pretty hard...but I guess it brought her and her dad closer though.”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Jackson? Jackson hasn’t really been himself lately. Actually, the funny thing is, as of right now, Lydia’s the one who seems the most normal.”

“And what about Y/n? I know the two of you are pretty close.”

“We are...or we were. She hasn’t really answered any of my calls or texts, so…I don’t think she really wants to talk.”

“It’s typical to withdraw after going through something like she did,” Morrell informed him. “I’m sure she’ll reach out when she’s ready.”

Stiles nodded, but he wasn’t sure he believed her. The way you had flinched away from him in the Sheriff’s station had scared the hell out of him. It was like you were afraid of him too.

“And what about you Stiles?” Ms. Morrell asked. “Feeling some anxiety about that championship game tomorrow night?”

“Hwhyhwouldyouaskmethat?”

He pulled the lacrosse stick away from his mouth, realizing he had been nervously chewing on the mesh netting. It had muffled his words. 

“Oh, uh no. I never actually play...but, hey, since one of my teammates is dead and another one’s missing, who knows, right?”

“You mean Isaac...one of the three runaways. You haven’t heard from any of them have you?” 

Stiles looked out across her desk, suddenly realizing she had no laptop or pad of paper spread out in front of her. “How come you’re not taking any notes on this?”

Morrell smiled. “I do my notes after the session.”

Stiles’ eyes narrowed. “Your memory’s that good?”

She eyed him carefully, knowing full well he was trying to divert the conversation. “How about we get back to you?”

He was silent for a few moments.

“Stiles?”

He shook his head. “I’m fine. Yeah, aside from the not sleeping, the jumpiness...the constant, overwhelming, crushing fear that something terrible is about to happen.”

“It’s called hypervigilance,” Morrell explained. “The persistent feeling of being under threat.”

“It’s not just a feeling though. It’s like it’s a panic attack, you know? Like I can’t even breathe.”

“Like you’re drowning?” she suggested. 

He swallowed. “Yeah.”

“So, if you’re drowning, and you’re trying to keep your mouth closed until that very last moment, what if you choose to not open your mouth? To not let the water in?”

“You do it anyway,” Stiles reminded her. “It’s a reflex.”

“But if you hold off until that reflex kicks in, you have more time right?”

“Not much time-”

“But more time to fight your way to the surface.

“I guess.” “More time to be rescued.”

“More time to be in agonizing pain,” he added. “I mean, did you forget about the part where your head’s exploding?”

“If it’s about survival, isn’t a little agony worth it?”

“Is it?” he asked her. “I mean, when I think about what Y/n must have gone through with Matt, it probably was agony. Waiting to be rescued, almost being strangled to death...and now... now she can’t even look at us. She’s like this...this shell of herself. She looks like she’s going through hell. I mean, it feels like we all are.”

Morrell pursed her lips. “Then think about something Winston Churchill once said. If you’re going through hell....keep going.”

-----

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

You rolled over onto your side, grasping wildly for your phone. Your morning alarm was going off once again and you felt the undeniable urge to hit snooze for the fourth time. 

Today was supposed to be your first day back in school after Matt’s rampage, but every time you thought about actually getting up, you hesitated. You couldn’t stop picturing the looks on everyone’s faces as you walked through those doors. By now, everyone knew some of what had happened, or at least they knew that Matt was dead and you had been involved. 

If you were being honest, you weren’t sure if you could handle the eyes on you or the curious whispers of your fellow students. Especially not with Scott and your friends dealing with their own problems. Allison hadn’t answered your texts or calls in days, Lydia seemed to be ignoring everything and everyone, and Stiles...well, you were the one ignoring Stiles.

You finally grabbed your phone and turned off your alarm. The screen was crowded with notifications, all from him. He had been trying to reach out for days, but you had deleted all of his texts and voicemails.

It wasn’t like you didn’t want to talk to him. You just didn’t know what to say. Every message was some variation of him asking if you were okay or telling you he was there for you if you needed him. 

You weren’t okay, but just coming out and explaining that to Stiles wasn’t as easy as it sounded. It was hard enough to process your time with Matt in your own mind, let alone process it enough to share the details with someone else. 

Ping!

As you held your phone in your hand, another text appeared on the screen.

Stiles 7:33am

Not sure if youre gonna be at school today. No pressure to talk or anything but I’m here if you need me.

You set your phone back down on the nightstand. Even if you didn’t go back to school that day, you would still have to do it eventually. Wasn’t it better to get it over with?

With one last reluctant glance at your phone, you shoved away the covers and got up to take a shower. 

You only allowed yourself a few minutes under the hot water before hopping out. You needed to make sure Scott didn’t leave without you. 

When you were finished, you pulled a soft towel from where it hung on the back of the bathroom door. You stood in front of the mirror for a few minutes, combing through your hair and examining the state of your face. 

Dark purple bags encircled your undereyes. You pulled out your makeup bag, searching for the crusty pot of concealer you rarely used. As you patted the product onto your skin, you grimaced. No amount of makeup could hide the fact that you were barely sleeping. 

The bruises Matt had left on your neck were also still there, though they were beginning to yellow and heal by now. Still, you dug through your closet, searching for something that could cover them up. 

You found a maroon colored infinity scarf, though it was way too warm outside to wear one. You pulled on a pair of jeans and a tank top, then draped the scarf around your neck. You gazed at your outfit in the mirror and decided to add a cream colored cardigan to the outfit. If people were going to stare at you, you might as well look cute while they did.

“Mom?”

Scott’s voice was muffled behind your bedroom door, but you could tell he was standing in the hall.

“Mom, we’re going to have to talk about this eventually...Okay, I’m going. I love you.”

You felt a twinge of sympathy as you realized your mom wasn’t going to answer him. 

Things had been tense between the two of them ever since she had watched him shift at the Sheriff’s station. They were barely speaking, but you knew she was probably terrified of the whole situation.

Instead, she had been focusing her energies on you, making sure you had everything you needed. Even on the days you hadn’t left your room, she still made sure that either she or Scott would leave a plate of food in the hall. 

You heard Scott’s sneakers thumping down the stairs, and you rushed to pull your own shoes on. You scooped your backpack up from the ground and slung it over your shoulders, hurrying to catch up to your brother. 

“Hey,” you called. “Can you give me a ride today?”

Scott floundered for a moment, staring up at you from the bottom of the steps. “Wait. You’re going to school? Are..are you sure?”

You bristled at the shock on his face.

“What?” you asked, as you came down the stairs. “You think I’m that fragile?”

“No,” Scott said quickly. “It’s just, even if you weren’t ready, that would be okay. You know that, right? You don’t have to go.”

You fidgeted with the straps on your backpack, thinking over his words. 

“Yeah. I know. But I’m gonna have to go back sometime.”

Scott nodded. “You ready?”

“Yeah.”

The two of you headed out to the car. Normally, Stiles would pick the two of you up in the jeep, but that didn’t seem to be an option at the moment. 

You guessed Scott and Stiles weren’t speaking either. That definitely made you nervous, especially considering everything that was going on. 

“Hey, did you talk to Derek about Peter?” you asked as he pulled out of the driveway.

Scott shook his head. “He’s not answering my calls.”

“Great. So now we have two homicidal maniacs running around and no help.”

“But Peter didn’t try to kill you, so maybe that’s a good sign?”

He said it like it was a question, which did nothing to calm your fraying nerves. 

You sighed. “From now on, I’m just going to assume everyone is trying to kill me.”

“Yeah, that’s probably smart.”

You didn’t respond. Instead, you stared out the window as Scott drove. The thought of facing both the entire school and the latest villain in town made you want to scream. The farther you got from home, the more you wished you had stayed in bed. 

You watched the trees and houses whiz past outside, becoming a blur in the glass. As soon as Scott pulled into the parking lot, you were sure you had made a mistake. People were already beginning to stare. 

The hushed whispers were just out of earshot as you got out of the car, but you were certain they were talking about you.

Scott put an arm around your shoulders as you headed up the sidewalk.  

“Just block it out,” he whispered. “I’ll walk you to class.”

You knew he could probably hear your heart pounding. His worried frown never left his face as you headed into school.

“I can take you back home,” he offered.

You came to a stop in front of your algebra classroom. It was tempting, but you didn’t want to make Scott late. He was already doing poorly in all his classes.

“I’ll be fine,” you promised him, though he could probably tell you were lying.

It wasn’t until after he dropped you off that you realized just how bad the day was going to be.

People would stop you in the hall to ask if Matt had really kidnapped you. Their eyes would remain glued to the marks on your neck, still just barely peeking out from behind the scarf. 

You tried to take Scott’s advice and just block people out, but that was proving to be impossible. Questions and whispered remarks followed you wherever you went. If people weren’t saying things right to your face, they sure weren’t careful about not letting you hear.

You hadn’t even made it to your second period class when you began to pick up on the nasty comments. The first one came as you were trading your algebra binder for the history textbook in your locker. 

Though your back was turned, you could feel eyes on you.

“Weren’t she and Matt going out?” you heard a girl’s voice ask.

“Yeah, I saw them at the underground show together,” a boy responded. “I bet she was being a tease and he just got sick of it.”

You whirled around, but the couple was nowhere to be seen. They had already disappeared into the crowd of kids flowing down the hall and into other classrooms. 

Without even bothering to grab your history book, you slammed your locker shut and headed to class. When Mr. Westover realized you didn’t have your book, he didn’t scold you, but he did make you share with the girl next to you. She didn’t say anything, although her eyes kept shifting toward the yellowing bruises on your neck. 

At one point, you got frustrated and ripped off the scarf, shoving it into your bag. If people wanted to stare, you were going to let them see the whole thing. You thought maybe if they saw the full extent of what Matt had done to you, the horrible comments would settle down. You were wrong. 

By lunch, you had zero appetite. Listening to what people were saying about you had your stomach churning. You definitely weren’t going to eat, but you stood in the lunch line anyway. Maybe going through the motions would give you some sense of normalcy. 

You grabbed a plastic tray and moved down the line, grabbing an apple and a greasy slice of pizza. Just as you placed the items on your tray, you heard a hushed whisper from farther down in the line. 

“Do you think he, y’know...touched her?” 

You looked back at the two boys standing a few places down in the line. One of them had blonde hair tucked into a beanie, and the other was wearing a long-sleeved striped shirt and checkered vans. He had dyed black hair. You could see his light brown roots showing through. 

You recognized them both from your gym class, but you didn’t know their names, and you didn’t think you wanted to.

“I don’t know, man,” Vans guy responded. “But if he did, I hope he took pictures. I’d love to see that.”

A wave of disgust washed over you, and you slammed your tray down on the metal counter. Without looking back, you rushed out of the lunch room, wiping the tears from your eyes. The last thing you needed was people watching you cry. 

You hurried down the hall and tried to ignore all the stares. No matter where you went, everyone was looking at you. 

You darted into the library, hoping it would be mostly empty during lunch. Luckily, only a few people were sitting down at the tables and you made it into the stacks unnoticed. 

Once you were at the back of the room, you dropped your backpack onto the carpet with a thump. You slid down against a shelf and put your face in your hands. You never should have come to school today, but how could you have known the horrible things that people would say to you?

Even though Matt was dead, you were still living a waking nightmare. You texted Scott, begging him to drive you home as tears dripped down your cheeks. The idea of walking past another person and hearing one more disgusting comment had you close to sobbing.

You pressed your hand over your mouth, fighting to keep yourself quiet as you hid among the books. You felt like you couldn’t even breathe.

Your vision began to blur, but as you wiped your eyes, you realized it wasn’t because you were crying. It was because you were freaking out. 

You took a few gasping breaths, but they seemed to get stuck in your throat. You had to call Scott, or your mom, or Stiles. When you picked up your phone again, it slipped from your trembling fingers. 

The sound of your own heartbeat was slamming in your ears. You fumbled for your phone on the ground, but the world was blurring around you. 

“Y/n?”

A familiar face was looming over you. When he dropped to his knees in front of you, you realized who it was. 

“St-Stiles?”

“Hey...oh my god, what’s happening?” he asked.

“I can-I can’t b-breathe.”

Stiles blinked, suddenly recognizing what was wrong. Your face was flushed red and you were shaking as you sat on the floor. Your breath was coming in quick and short.  He had seen the same symptoms in himself countless times after his mom died.

“You’re having a panic attack.”

“Great. H-How do I...How do I stop?”

“You’ve gotta try to slow your breathing. Just try to calm down.”

If you could have smacked him, you would have. He must have seen the look on your face, because he flushed. 

“I know it sounds stupid, but just...just look at me.”

He reached up, placing his hands on either side of your face. His fingers were warm on your cheeks. 

“I know things don’t seem like they’re ever going to be okay again. But trust me, they will. I promise. And...and if they aren’t, you can kick my ass, okay? Because I know you totally can.”

You looked up into his brown eyes, and you knew Stiles was telling the truth. Maybe he couldn’t guarantee that things were going to be okay, but he was going to try his damnedest to make them that way. 

Your short gasps slowly began to turn into measured breaths. Eventually, you stopped shaking and collapsed against Stiles, wrapping your arms tightly around him. He sat there in shock for a moment, hesitant to put his hands on you after the way you had reacted in the Sheriff’s station. 

Then, he realized you weren’t pulling away. He reached out, running a hand down your back and squeezing you against his chest. 

“It’s okay. You’re okay.”

“Thank you,” you sniffed, pulling away slightly. 

 You weren’t crying anymore, but your tears had drenched his t-shirt, darkening the gray fabric. You gestured to the stain.

“I’m sorry.”

He shrugged. “I don’t care. Probably needed a wash anyway.”

You wrinkled your nose and he grinned at you. He was joking with you like nothing had changed, and you felt a wave of relief wash over you. Stiles was making you feel calmer than you had in days. You were beginning to think it had been a mistake to ignore him.

“How did you find me anyway?” you asked.

“I was looking for a book for my English project,” he explained. “I kind of heard you crying, but I didn’t know it was you until I came over.”

“Oh yeah. It’s your free period right now, isn’t it?”

“Yeah. Isn’t it your lunch?”

“Yeah, but...I couldn’t even make it through that. The stuff people were saying, I just...I had to get away.”

Stiles nodded. He had heard the buzzing of rumors since the bell rang that morning. Most of the whispers were sympathetic or curious, but a few disgusting words sent him snapping at his classmates. The last thing he wanted to hear was speculation about what Matt had done to you.

“Do you want me to take you home?” he offered. 

“Yeah,” you admitted. “I need to get the hell out of here.”

Stiles rose to his feet and held out a hand, helping you off the carpet. The two of you grabbed your backpacks. You followed him out the backdoor of the library and stepped into the warm spring air.

“I’ll let Scott know I’m taking you home,” he said as you walked through the parking lot.

“I thought you two weren’t really talking.”

“We’re not, but he’s gonna worry if he doesn’t see you after school.”

He held open the passenger door of the jeep for you. You tossed your bag in the backseat.

“I can text him,” you offered.

He shook his head. “Nah. This gives us a reason to start talking again.”

He shut the door behind you and came around to sit behind the wheel. You watched as he pulled out his phone, sending a quick message to Scott. 

“Why weren’t you guys talking anyway?” you asked curiously.

He shrugged and put the keys in the ignition to start the car.

“I think for the same reasons we haven’t been talking. Everything that happened was just...overwhelming I guess. I think we all needed some time to process things.”

Guilt washed over you as Stiles began to drive out of the school parking lot.

“I’m sorry,” you apologized. “I didn’t mean to ignore you. I just didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know how to explain that I wasn’t okay.”

He reached across the center console, placing one hand over yours. “You don’t have to be sorry...and you don’t ever have to explain anything to me. I just needed you to know that I was there for you, whenever you did need me.”

As soon as he spoke, relief washed over you. You were so glad he wasn’t mad at you, and so happy he seemed to understand exactly what you needed.

“I always need you,” you told him softly.

Stiles smiled, taking his eyes off the road for a split second before looking back out the windshield. “I need you too.”

Just like that, it felt like nothing had changed between the two of you. Stiles was still your best friend and maybe a little something more.

You sat in silence for the rest of the drive as. He rubbed his thumb over the back of your hand comfortingly. When his brakes screeched to a halt in your driveway, you almost didn’t want to get out of the car.

“Do you want to skip and hang out here?” you asked.

He smiled and stopped the car. “Yeah. I can only stay for a little bit though. I have to be back in time for Coach’s big meeting.”

“Oh, right. The game is tonight.”

“I could probably skip it though. You know I’m always on the bench.”

Your phone suddenly pinged. You pulled it out of your pocket, glancing down at the text from Scott. 

Stiles watched as the color drained from your face. “What? What’s wrong?”

“You can’t skip the game,” you told him. “Jackson showed up and he’s playing tonight.”

Stiles sighed. “So that means Gerard’s playing too.”

You nodded. Stiles reached out, taking both of your hands in his. “You don’t have to be there tonight. Actually, it’s probably safer for you to stay home.”

“No way,” you protested. “If something’s going to happen, I want to be there.”

Stiles hesitated. You were just like your brother. If someone needed your help, you didn’t hesitate to throw yourself into danger. Before Matt, Stiles never would have tried to stop you from doing that. Now he wanted nothing more than to keep you out of the chaos. 

“What?” you demanded. “Are you going to try to stop me?”

He shook his head. “No. It’s just...after what happened...what if I can’t protect you?”

“Stiles, what happened with Matt wasn’t your fault.”

He glanced down at the bruises on your neck, feeling a wave of anger rise up inside of you. “I should have stopped him.”

You reached up, placing your hands on either side of his face. “Look at me. You couldn’t have. I’m sure he would have used Jackson to rip you to shreds if you tried, and then where would we be?”

“Probably better off,” he muttered.

“Stiles!”

“Kidding. I just don’t want to lose you again. I can’t lose you again.”

“You won’t,” you promised. “Let’s just stick together tonight, okay?”

Your eyes were bright and determined. You looked so sure of yourself that Stiles was inclined to believe you. 

“Okay,” he whispered. 

Your hands were still on his face. He wanted so desperately to lean down and press his lips to yours, but he wasn’t sure if that was a good idea. Hugging you was one thing, but he didn’t want to go too far and make you uncomfortable.

He glanced down at your mouth, and you knew exactly what he was thinking.

“You can kiss me if you want.”

“Are you sure?”

“Stiles, that is the only thing I want right now.”

That was all he needed to hear. 

He moved forward, grasping one of your hands and gently pulling you toward him. You leaned into his warmth, pressing your lips back against his. He let you take the lead, careful not to push you. 

Your stomach fluttered as you kissed him. For a few brief moments, you were able to forget about the chaos and just melt into Stiles. He made you feel warm and safe and stable. It didn’t matter if you fell, because he would be there to catch you. 

After a few seconds, you reluctantly pulled away. 

“You should go find Scott.”

Stiles frowned. “I thought you wanted me to stay.”

“I do,” you promised, squeezing his hands. “But now that Jackson’s back, you guys need to talk in person. That’s more important right now.”

He nodded, but he was still hesitant. “Will you be okay alone?”

“Yeah,” you told him. “My mom’s off today anyway. I can catch a ride to the game with her.”

“You sure you’re up for that? I mean, I guess if Jackson tears someone apart on the field, no one’s going to be talking about you anymore.”

You tried to fight the grin threatening to break out on your face, but you couldn’t help it. 

“I’m trying to be serious here.”

“I know. I just like seeing you smile.” 

He reached up, running a thumb across your cheek. “I’ll see you tonight then?”

“Yeah. Just let me know what you guys decide to do. Whatever it is, I’m with you.”

You grabbed your bag from the backseat and pressed one more quick kiss to Stiles’ lips. “See you later.”

Stiles smiled. “See you.”

He watched as you hopped out of the jeep and made your way up to the front door. He sat there in the driveway for a few moments, making sure you got inside. Before you entered the house, you turned around to smile at him one last time.

He drove away grinning at first, but as he turned out of your neighborhood, he couldn’t help but wonder what the night had in store for both of you. Somehow, he had a feeling that the moment you shared would be the last peaceful one he was going to get for a while.

#teen wolf #teen wolf imagines #selfignitingimagines #stiles stilinski #@screamxqueenx94 #@derangedangel #Teen Wolf Ships #stiles stilinski imagines

[selfignitingimagines]

Stiles- If I Can’t Have You, No One Can (Obsessed Part 4)

A/N: When I was initally writing this series I had a set plan for where I wanted it to end and how. I was recently rewatching the last few episodes of season 2 and I got struck with some inspiration. Let me know down below if you guys want a part 5 so I can continue the series!

TRIGGER WARNING: Stalking, kidnapping

Here are the links for Part 1, Part 2, and Part 3.

“Right there!” Stiles cried, frantically gesturing toward the computer screen on his dad’s desk. “Stop! Stop! See? There he is again.”

They were scrolling through hours of security footage recorded at the hospital the night one of Matt’s victims was killed. So far, all they had managed to capture were shots of him with his back turned. This tape was no different. 

“You mean there’s the back of his head again,” the Sheriff told him. 

“Okay, but look. He’s talking to someone!”

Scott followed Stiles’ gaze. His eyes widened. “He’s talking to my mom.”

He hastily pulled out his phone out of his jeans and called his mom, hoping she would be able to confirm that it was Matt. Stiles tapped his foot nervously as they talked. His shoulders slumped in relief when he heard her say that Matt was the one she had seen. 

“Alright,” the Sheriff said when she hung up. He picked up a manila evidence folder from his desk. 

“We’ve got shoe prints alongside the tire tracks at the trailer site...”

“And if they match, that puts Matt at the scene of three murders,” Stiles said. “The trailer, the hospital, and the rave.”

“Actually four,” the Sheriff told him, flipping through the documents in the folder. “A credit card receipt for an oil change was signed by Matt a few hours before the murder.”

Stiles let out a sigh of relief. “Alright, Dad, if one’s an incident, two’s a coincidence, and three’s a pattern, what’s four?”

“Four’s enough for a warrant.”

Stiles curled his fist in triumph. “We can find Y/n.”

“Scott, call your mom back. See how quickly she can get here. If I can get an official ID, I can get a search warrant. Stiles, go to the front desk. Tell them to let Scott’s mom in when she gets here.”

 “On it.” Stiles nodded hastily and turned down the hall. 

His whole body was humming with adrenaline now. He had spent the whole night terrified, wondering what Matt was doing to you. Stiles knew you were probably betting on the fact that they would find you. After all, it was what he would have done in your situation. 

You have saved each other plenty of times before, and now it was his turn again. He knew he could do it, he just wasn’t sure what Matt would do to you in the meantime. 

Stiles had tried his best to protect you, but he knew it hadn’t been enough. He should have pushed harder when he suggested you go to the police the other night. He should have kept a closer eye on you at the party, but he had been too caught up in his own issues. 

He tried to shake off those thoughts as he walked down the halls of the station, telling himself that he still had time to make up for it. He had told you the other night that everything he did was to keep you safe, and that was still true. 

As he rounded the corner of the hall, Stiles realized that the officer on duty was no longer standing at the front desk. 

“Hello?” he called, looking around for her. 

That was when he noticed her black combat boot sticking out from behind the corner of the desk. He felt a shiver run down his spine, and he realized she was lying on the floor among a mess of fallen papers. Her eyes were wide open, but they weren’t moving, and her tan uniform was stained dark red with blood.

She was dead, but as Stiles took in the horrific sight, he also noticed another chilling detail. The holster on her hip was empty. Someone had taken her gun. 

Stiles stumbled back, turning around, only to come face to face with you.“Y/n?”

Tears were slipping from your eyes, and your lip was trembling. You looked terrified, standing there in your disheveled dress. It was the same one you had been wearing at the party last night.

Matt was standing behind you, one hand one your shoulder as he pressed the dead officer’s gun into your back. 

“If you make one move I’ll shoot her,” he told Stiles. 

Stiles reluctantly held up his hands. “Okay. Okay, fine.”

“I’m sorry,” you mouthed, but he shook his head. You had to know this wasn’t your fault. 

Matt kept the barrel of the gun pressed against your back as Stiles led you further into the station. He turned into his dad’s office, and you realized that the Sheriff and your brother were also there. 

“Y/n!” Scott cried. 

He started forward, but Matt ordered him to stop, waving the gun so he and the others could see it. 

“Matt,” the Sheriff said slowly. He held up his hands. 

“It’s Matt, right? Matt, whatever’s going on, I guarantee there’s a solution that doesn’t involve a gun.”

Matt’s lips curled into a sick grin. “You know it’s funny you say that, because I don’t think you’re aware of just how right you are.”

“I know you don’t wanna hurt people-”

“Actually, I wanna hurt a lot of people. You four weren’t on my list, but I could be persuaded...and one way is to try calling somebody on your cell phone like McCall is doing.”

Scott ripped his hand out of his pocket, looking between you and Stiles apologetically.

“That...that could definitely get someone hurt.”

“Everyone?” Matt gestured with the gun, and you knew he was telling them to give up their phones. “Now!”

“Come on,” the Sheriff told the boys calmly. 

Stiles looked back at you. 

“Pretty sure he tossed mine out the window last night,” you muttered. 

Matt led the four of you to the tiny jail at the back of the station. There, he made Stiles handcuff his dad to a bench. You felt your stomach drop. Now the three of you were completely on your own with Matt.

He waved the three of you in front of him and forced you to walk up to the front of the station. As you passed by another hallway, you gasped.

Three other officers were lying in the hallway and all of them appeared to be dead. Their chests had been ripped open so forcefully that every wall around them was splattered with blood. 

You looked away, fighting the urge to vomit. 

“What, are you gonna kill everyone in here?” Scott demanded.

“No,” Matt said with a scoff. “That’s what Jackson’s for. I just think about killing them...and he does it.”

He forced you back into Stilinski’s office, where he made Stiles log into his dad’s computer. Matt had him delete every bit of evidence, including the video footage of him at the hospital. Scott was destroying the paper evidence in the shredder, including the shoe prints that would have matched Matt’s boots. 

Stiles glared at Matt from behind the desk, wanting to rip him apart as he stroked his fingers down your hair. He had forced you to sit next to him on the couch, and you were currently staring intently at the tiled floor. 

Stiles had already seen the bruises Matt had left on your throat. The only thing keeping him from jumping across that desk was the knowledge that Matt would have Jackson rip all of you to pieces at a moment’s notice. 

“Deleted,” he told Matt bitterly, gesturing toward the computer. “And we’re done. So, Matt, since all the people you brutally murdered deserved it, because they killed you first-whatever that means-we’re good here, right? I’ll just get my dad and we’ll go. You know, you continue on the whole vengeance thing, enjoy the Kanima.”

Before he could respond, the glow of headlights swept through the windows. You could hear tires crunching on the gravel of the parking lot outside.

“Sounds like your mom’s here,” Matt told you and Scott.

���Matt, don’t do this,” you begged. 

“When she comes to the door, we’ll just tell her to leave,” Scott added. “I’ll tell her we didn’t find anything! Please, Matt.”

The sound of the metal door creaking open echoed through the station, and Matt grinned. “If you don’t move now, I’m gonna kill Y/n first, and then your mom.”

He pressed the gun up against your back, and Scott glared at him. Matt pulled you up by the back of your dress and gestured for Scott and Stiles to go first. 

“Open it,” he ordered Scott, when you had made your way back to the front lobby.

“Please,” Scott begged one more time.

“Open. The. Door,” Matt told him, enunciating each word carefully. 

Scott reached out, shaking his head regretfully. When he turned the knob, the door slowly creaked open to reveal the person standing there. It wasn’t your mom, but Derek Hale. 

“Oh thank god,” Scott breathed. 

But Derek simply stared at him. Then, he pitched forward and slammed straight onto the floor below. Jackson was standing behind him, half transformed. He held up one scaly hand, still dripping with clear venom, and stalked into the lobby.

Matt walked over and knelt in front of Derek, flipping him on his back. He was now completely paralyzed.

“This is the one controlling him?” Derek asked from the floor. “This kid?”

“Well, Derek, not everyone’s lucky enough to be a big, bad werewolf.”

Matt straightened up, glancing between you, Scott, and Stiles. “That’s right! I’ve learned a few things lately. Werewolves, hunters, kanimas...it’s like a freakin’ halloween party every full moon.”

He smirked. “Except for you Stiles. What do you turn into?”

Stiles glared at him. 

“Abominable snowman,” he snarked. “But it’s more of, like, a wintertime thing. You know...seasonal.”

Matt rolled his eyes, and in seconds, Jackson was swiping his claws across the back of Stiles neck.

“Hey!” you cried. 

“Bitch,” Stiles swore at Matt, before his knees went out from under him. He crashed onto the ground, right on top of Derek’s chest. 

“Get him off of me,” Derek growled. 

Matt laughed. “Oh, I don’t know, Derek. I think you two make a pretty good pair. It must suck though, having all that power taken away from you with just a little cut to the back of the neck. I bet you’re not used to feeling this helpless.”

Derek glared up at him from the floor. “Still got some teeth. Scoot down here a little closer, huh? We’ll see how helpless I am.”

“Yeah, bitch.”

Stiles’ voice was muffled from being facedown against Derek’s chest, but you couldn’t help but smile. 

For the second time that night, headlights flashed through the windows of the sheriff’s station. You could hear another car pulling to a stop outside. 

“Is that your mom?” Matt asked. “Do what I tell you to, and I won’t hurt her. I won’t even let Jackson near her. 

“Scott, don’t trust him,” Stiles mumbled into Derek’s shirt.

Scott remained frozen in front of the door, but Matt was impatient. He reached forward, snatching you by your hair and tugging you back against him. He wrapped his arm around your neck, squeezing against your windpipe and cutting off your breath.

“This work better for you?” he asked Scott.

You reached up, scratching at his arms, but he didn’t even flinch. 

“Okay, stop, just stop,” your brother begged. 

“Then do what I tell you to!” Matt spat. 

“Okay, alright, stop!”

Matt finally let you go, right as you were on the verge of blacking out. You hit the floor on your hands and knees, gasping and dizzy from the lack of oxygen. 

“You,” Matt said, gesturing to Jackson. “Take them in there. You two, with me.”

He yanked you up off the ground by your arm, and gestured for Scott to open the door as Jackson hauled Derek and Stiles out of the lobby. 

When the door finally opened, Matt pulled you behind the corner of the hallway. You could hear the door squeaking open, and your mom asking “Scott?”

You were trembling as Matt held you back against his chest. What would he do to your mom?”

“You scared me,” you heard her say. “Where is everyone?”

That was when Matt shoved you out in front of him. Your mom gasped your name. As far as she had known, you were still missing. 

When she saw Matt come out behind you and press the gun against your back, she froze. 

“Mom,” Scott told her nervously. “Just do what he says. He promised he wouldn’t hurt you.”

“He’s right,” Matt agreed. 

Then, he raised the gun, and shot Scott in the stomach. You and your mom both screamed, but as she rushed forward, Matt pointed the gun at you. 

“But I didn’t say I wouldn’t hurt him.”

Scott was holding himself up using the wall, just barely managing to not fall to his knees. He had one hand pressed against his side, and blood was beginning to pool through his shirt. You knew he would heal from the gunshot wound, but your mom didn’t.

She tried to step forward, but Matt waved the gun.

“Back! Back!” he ordered. 

“Mom,” Scott choked. “Mom, do it. Please mom.”

You could hear Stiles' dad from all the way at the back of the station. He had undoubtedly heard the gunshot. 

“Matt! Matt, listen to me-!”

“Shut up!” Matt roared. “Shut up! Everybody shut the hell up!”

He gestured to Scott before training the gun back on you. “Get up, or I shoot your sister next.”

“Please,” your mom begged. Tears were running down her cheeks. “He needs to see a doctor.”

Matt tilted his head. “You think so?”

“It’s alright,” Scott insisted. “I’m okay.”

“No, sweetie, you’re not,” your mom insisted. 

She began to babble about how he was just feeling the adrenaline, how he needed to get to the hospital. You looked over at your brother, and he met your eyes. There was no way he was going to be able to keep his secret after this, provided you all made it out alive.

“They have no idea, do they?” Matt asked you. 

You didn’t answer him. Your mom was still trying to convince Matt to let her take Scott to the hospital. 

“Lady, if you keep talking, I’m going to put the next bullet in her head.”

He raised the gun to your skull. Your breath caught in your throat when you felt the barrel of the gun against your skin.

Your mom took a deep breath, and held up her hands. Tears were streaming down her face, leaving wet lines of black mascara. “Okay...okay.”

Matt shoved you in front of him, pushing you down the hall. He paraded you back through the station, and locked your mom into the cell next to the bench Stilinski was cuffed to. 

When Matt shut the cell door, your mom reached out through the bars, grasping your hand tightly. “You’re okay?”

You nodded, tears slipping from your own eyes. “I’m okay. Stiles and Scott made sure I was safe.”

“Back to the front McCall!” Matt barked. “Both of you!”

You glanced back at your mom reluctantly as Matt shoved you in front of him. He walked behind you and your brother as you headed out into the hallway. Then, he herded you into the station breakroom. 

There were a few tables and some chairs, but even though you were exhausted, you were too afraid to sit down. Scott leaned against one of the tables, still grasping his bloody side. You guessed the wound wasn’t fully healed yet. If the bullet hadn’t exited, it wouldn’t be able to close unless someone pulled it out. 

“The evidence is gone,” Scott told him. “Why don’t you just go?” Matt raised his eyebrows. “You really think the evidence mattered that much? No. No, I want the book.”

“What book?” Scott asked him,

“The bestiary!” Matt snarled. “And not just a few pages. I want the entire thing.”

“I don’t have it. It’s Gerard’s. You told him that, didn’t you?” He was looking at you now. You shrugged. “I tried.”

Scott glanced back over at Matt. “What do you need it for, anyway?”

“I need answers.”

“Answers to what?”

Frustrated, Matt yanked up the edge of his shirt, revealing his scale-covered side. “To this!”

Scott’s eyes went wide. If Matt was turning into another kanima, there was nothing stopping him from killing whoever he wanted. When you looked at your brother’s face, you had the sneaking suspicion that you two would be next on his list. 

------

Stiles laid on the floor of the station, staring up at the ceiling. The tiled floor was cold against his back, which was a welcome relief considering sweat was dripping down his neck. He wasn’t sure whether it was just hot in the station, or if he was nervous. If he was being honest, it was both. 

He and Derek had been lying there for what felt like hours, but Stiles knew it was probably only thirty minutes. 

“Hey,” he said, breaking the silence. “Do you know what’s happening to Matt?”

“I know the book’s not gonna help him,” Derek said grimly. “You can’t just break the rules. Not like this.”

Stiles tried to look over at him from the corner of his eye. 

“What do you mean?”

“The universe balances things out. It always does.”

“Is it because he’s using Jackson to kill people who don’t deserve it?”

“And killing people himself,” Derek added.

Stiles thought for a moment. “So if he breaks the rules of the Kanima, he becomes the Kanima?”

“Balance,” Derek agreed.

“Will he believe us if we tell him that?”

“Probably not.”

Stiles sighed. “Okay, he’s gonna kill all of us once he gets that book, isn’t he?”

“Yep...except for maybe Scott’s sister.”

Stiles gritted his teeth. “I’m gonna kick his ass the second I can move again.”

“That’s a great way to get her throat ripped out too.”

Stiles didn’t respond. He knew Derek was right, but a part of him wanted to go after Matt without thinking about the consequences. He knew he had left those bruises on your neck. He knew that the minute you shattered Matt’s fantasy, he would kill you too. He had to do something before that happened. 

“I know you’re in love with her.”

Stiles swallowed at Derek’s words. “Maybe.”

“I can tell. I know you’d do anything to save her, but right now, we need to be smarter.”

“Alright,” Stiles relented. “So what do we do? Do we just sit here and wait to die?”

“Unless I can figure out a way to push the toxin out of my body faster, like triggering the healing process.”

“Wha-”

He glanced down, only to realize that Derek’s claws were now protruding from his fingers. They had grown into his jeans, right into his skin, where blood was beginning to ooze.

Stiles gagged. “Oh, gross.” 

-----

Back in the breakroom of the station, Matt shook his head, letting his shirt fall back down. He glanced between you and Scott.

 “You know, I feel sorry for you guys. Cause right now you’re probably thinking ‘How am I gonna explain this when it heals?’. And the sad part is, you don’t even realize how incredible it is that you are healing. Cause you know what happens to anyone else when they get shot? They die!”

You and Scott exchanged uneasy glances.

 “Is that what happened to you?” your brother asked.

Matt was silent. He was staring at the ground, but he didn’t look as vicious as he had earlier. He actually seemed kind of tired. Scott seemed to notice this too, so he continued to press. 

“You drowned, didn’t you?”

“He shouldn’t have let them drink,” Matt muttered, still staring at the floor.

“What?” you asked. “Who? Matt, what do you mean?”

“Lahey!” He suddenly exploded. “He shouldn’t have let them drink.”

You flinched back, closer to your brother.

“What?” Scott asked. “Who was drinking?”

“The swim team, you idiot! I didn’t know what was happening. I didn’t know they had just won State…”

You and Scott listened to Matt as he went on and on. He explained how, when he was in eighth grade,  he had been heading over to Isaac’s to trade comics. Mr. Lahey was throwing a party for his swim team and letting them drink around the pool. All of Matt’s victims had been there. Tucker, Cara, Bennett, even Jessica and Shawn, the married couple.

 They were joking around when Matt came into the backyard, tossing each other into the pool. Isaac’s brother Camden decided to throw Matt in too. They didn’t know he couldn’t swim.

“And the next thing I know, I’m lying by the pool,” Matt explained. “And Lahey’s standing over me, and he’s saying ‘You don’t know how to swim? What little bastard doesn’t know how to swim? You say nothing. You tell no one.’ And I didn’t.”

He let out a sharp, bitter laugh. “I would wake up every night, gasping for breath. My parents thought I was an asthamatic. They even got me and inhaler. They didn’t know that everytime I closed my eyes, I…I was drowning.”

He was silent for a few moments, and then he looked back at you and Scott. “And then came Kate Argent’s funeral.”

His lips began to curl into a smile as he explained how he had realized he and Jackson were bonded. 

“I was taking some photos, and then, purely by accident, Lahey gets in one of them. I looked down at my camera, and I just had this unbelievable rage that filled up inside of me. I looked at him and I just...I wanted to see him dead.”

Matt let out a disbelieving laugh. “And the next day, he actually was! You know, Einstein was right. Imagination is more important than knowledge. It was like something out of Greek mythology, like...like the Furies coming down to punish Orestes.”

He looked over at Scott, who was staring at him, dumbfounded. Matt rolled his eyes. “You have no idea what I’m talking about do you?”

Scott swallowed. “Was that...was that the guy that stabbed out his eyes.”

“That’s Oedipus, you dumbass!” Matt barked. 

His gaze snapped over at you. “You know what I’m talking about don’t you?”

You nodded carefully. “The furies were deities of vengeance, weren’t they?”

 Matt nodded. “Their tears ran of blood and they had snakes for hair. If there was a crime that had gone unpunished, the Furies would do the punishing. Jackson is my Fury. You know, when I saw him the next night, I knew he had killed Lahey for me, and I knew he would do it again.”

Matt began to smile to himself again. “So I went to Tucker’s garage. I even paid for an oil change, and guess what? He didn’t even recognize me! So when he wasn’t looking, I took a shot of him with my camera...and in a few hours, he was dead. So I took more pictures. All I had to do was take their picture, and Jackson would take their life.”

You glanced over at Scott, who looked just as concerned as you were. Matt was giving no indication that he would stop the killings. You were pretty sure that he and Stiles were next on his list. 

Scott opened his mouth, maybe to try and convince Matt to let you all go, but he never got the chance to speak. The thick, acrid smell of smoke filled the air, and suddenly the room was engulfed in a white cloud. 

Sirens began to wail, echoing through the halls of the station. They let out a sharp, bleating sound that hurt your ears.

“What is this?!” Matt demanded. “What’s happening? What’s going on?!”

He suddenly reached out, snatching you by the arm.

“I don’t know!” Scott cried. “Y/n, where are you?”

“I’m right here!” 

He reached out, trying to see if he could grab you, but Matt yanked you backward against him. He pressed his gun against your side and forced you out the nearest exit.

Bright yellow emergency lights began to flicker, illuminating the breakroom. Jackson passed you and Matt as you left the room. He was headed right toward Scott. You tried to pull out of his grasp, but he dug his nails into your arm. 

“Scott!” you screamed.

“I’ll have Jackson rip your mom apart next,” he snarled. 

He dragged you through the halls of the station, keeping the gun pressed tightly against your side. The smoke was starting to dissipate now, and the flashing lights ensured that Matt knew where he was going. 

He shoved open a door and hauled you into a darkened garage. The long room was bordered by bay doors on one side. A few desks littered the room, but it was mostly filled with police squad cars or transport vans.

Matt dragged you past tool carts and spare tires, and you struggled not to trip.

“Please, Matt,” you begged. “Just let me go.”

“Shut up!” Matt snapped. He looked around frantically until he spotted a door with a glowing, red exit sign. He pushed you toward it and forced you outside. 

Cool air hit your face as you stepped out into the night, but you didn’t have time to appreciate it. He broke into a run, keeping one hand on your arm as he pulled you further from the building. Panic began to build in your chest.

  A couple hundred yards ahead, the clearing you and Matt were running through ended with a line of trees. There was a small creek running at the edge of it. Farther downstream, a bridge crossed over the water. Matt began to pull you in the opposite direction. 

Suddenly, you stumbled, falling onto your knees in the grass. Matt reached down to haul you up, but when his guard was down, you knocked the gun out of his hand. It landed somewhere in the grass, and he was unable to see where it went in the dark. 

You scrambled onto your feet as Matt felt for the gun in the grass, but when he realized you were running, he abandoned it. 

“No!”

He tackled you to the ground before you could even make it five feet away, and the impact knocked the wind out of you. 

You squirmed, but he quickly pinned you down into the grass. 

“Get off me!” you gasped, but his hands were pressing your wrists into the grass. 

He smiled down at you, but there was an empty look in his eyes. Your heart began to pound even harder against your chest.

“Do you remember when I said that I’m not the type of guy that’s gonna say something like ‘If I can’t have her, no one can.’?”

You writhed under him, but your exhaustion had caught up with you. He was much stronger, and now that he was turning into another kanima, you didn’t have a chance of fighting him off.

Matt didn’t wait for you to respond to him. He just kept talking and grinning down at you with that sick look in his eyes. 

“See, that’s not entirely true,” he mused. “Because, Y/n, if I can’t have you. No one can.”

Then his hands were on your neck, squeezing. You fought him, gasping for air that wouldn’t come. He was going to kill you. 

You reached up, scratching at his hands and wrists. You could feel his skin peeling away under your nails and the warm, wet blood you were drawing. Still, it wasn’t enough. 

Your vision was beginning to cloud. Your attempts to fight him off were growing weaker by the second. All you could think of was Stiles. 

The two of you always seemed to be saving each other in one way or another. This time, you had hoped he would be able to rescue you, but it looked like that wasn’t going to happen. You knew there was no use in hoping for anything else. 

Instead, you tried to think about something good. As your mind wandered, you thought of Stiles’ honey brown eyes. You thought of the surprise and delight on his face when you said something funny that he hadn’t expected. You remembered the way he had kissed you the night at the rave, his hands warm on your cheeks. 

Everything was beginning to go dark, but you were content. You swore you could hear Stiles’ voice, warm and soothing...and then it was gone. 

You opened your eyes, taking one painful, gasping breath. Matt’s weight was no longer on top of you. You rolled over onto your side, desperately sucking in air as you struggled to lift yourself up into a sitting position in the grass. 

You looked around, wondering what had happened. That was when you saw Matt being dragged down the hill by Gerard Argent, of all people. You didn’t understand what was happening at first, but then, Gerard threw him down into the bed of the creek. 

Gerard waded out until he was knee-deep in the water. Then he grabbed Matt by his t-shirt and thrust his head under water. You watched, horrified, as he drowned him in the creek. 

That was when you ran, occasionally glancing over your shoulder to make sure Gerard wouldn’t follow you. He didn’t even look up. Either he would come after you later, or he just didn’t care.

You sprinted past the bridge, only to have a pair of arms reach out and snatch you back. You opened your mouth to scream, but a hand clamped down over your lips, muffling the sound.

You were pushed up against the side of the bridge, the rough stone scraping against your back. When you saw who had grabbed you, your eyes went wide. It was Peter Hale.

It suddenly crossed your mind that maybe you hadn’t escaped Matt in the clearing. Maybe you were dead. Maybe that was why you were face to face with Peter, whose throat Derek had slashed open last month. 

He held one finger to his lips as he stared down at you, and while you should have been terrified, you had the odd feeling that he wouldn’t hurt you. 

“Watch,” he said quietly.

He grabbed you by the shoulders and spun you around, forcing you to look back at Matt and Gerard. You could see Matt’s motionless body floating in the water. Gerard was now standing up on the bank of the creek, his clothes still dripping wet. His lips were moving, but you couldn’t hear what he was saying. It didn’t seem to matter, because what you saw next told you everything you needed to know. 

The Kanima was creeping out from the shadows, wandering toward Gerard on its hands and feet. Instead of running, Gerard lifted one arm and raised his palm. The Kanima moved closer, hesitantly. Then it lifted up one scaly, clawed hand, and touched its palm to Gerard’s.

He was now its master. 

“Go,” Peter urged in your ear. “Tell your brother what you saw.”

You blinked up at him, confused. “Why?”

A smile played at the edge of Peter’s lips. “I have a feeling we’re all on the same team now.”

He let go of your shoulders and you slowly backed away from him, keeping your eyes trained on his shadowy form the entire time. When you were a few yards away, you turned your back and took off running toward the station.

Your chest was burning as you raced back toward Scott and the others. When you pushed open the doors of the station, several officers whirled around and trained their guns on you. You guessed Stiles’ dad had called for backup at some point. 

As you threw up your hands, you were able to see the Sheriff, your mom, and Stiles all standing in the lobby.

“Y/n!” Stiles cried. “Oh thank god.”

The officers lowered their guns, and Stiles rushed over. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you tightly against his chest. You froze in his arms, not quite sure how to handle his touch. The feeling of being caged against him made your skin crawl. Though you hated to admit it, it reminded you of Matt.

He pulled away suddenly, realizing you weren’t reciprocating. 

“Hey...are-are you okay?”

You shook your head, suddenly feeling overwhelmed. The lights of the station were too bright, and the sound of the deputies’ boots thumping on the floor caused you to flinch. You didn’t even know where to start.

Stiles watched in shock as you suddenly burst into tears. He wanted to reach out and hold you, but by the way you had just reacted, he was afraid to touch you. 

“Oh, uh…”

Before he could think of anything to say, your mom rushed over and put a hand on your back. “Let’s get you somewhere quiet, Sweetheart.”

She cast a sympathetic glance in Stiles’ direction and led you down the hall. The Sheriff followed after the two of you, no doubt planning to take your statement. Matt was nowhere to be found, and Stiles was willing to bet you knew what happened to him.

He wanted to follow, but he knew if he did, his dad would just kick him out of the room. You were a witness now, and they would need an official statement from you. 

Scott came jogging down the hallway. Stiles realized he must have heard you come back.

By then, the door to the office you had disappeared into was shut. 

Scott headed over to Stiles. “What happened?”

“I don’t know,” Stiles admitted. “But I don’t think your sister’s okay.”

#teen wolf #teen wolf imagines #selfignitingimagines #stiles stilinski #stiles stilinski imagines #@screamxqueenx94 #tw kidnapping #tw stalking

[selfignitingimagines]

Stiles- Gone (Obsessed Part 2)

TW: Stalking

A/N- As I said in my last post, I wrote Obsessed almost two years ago. I always wanted to finish the story, but I never got around to it and fell off from posting for a long time. I decided to split this next part into two, because it was getting pretty long. Part 3 should be out soon. Part 1 is linked here. 

“Where is everyone?”

Your quiet whisper caused your brother and Stiles to glance over at you. They seemed to be thinking the same thing.

Lydia’s birthday party was the event of the year. Actually, all of her parties were popular enough that she usually had to turn someone away. Now, as you stared out at her deserted back patio, the opposite seemed to be true. No one had even shown up, save for a couple people who had disappeared into the house a few minutes ago. 

The deck surrounding Lydia’s pool had been artfully decorated with string lights. Several tables nearby were stacked with snacks and drinks, and she had even ordered a silver fountain that contained some kind of bright pink punch.

It was a shame that the only people out there to appreciate the hard work were you, Stiles, and Scott. You knew Allison was coming because you had gotten ready at her house with Lydia, but you had left separately and she had yet to show up.

Suddenly the sliding glass door opened behind you, and Allison stepped out onto the patio. Her dark hair was done up in an intricate braid, similar to the one Lydia had threaded your own hair into. She smiled at you as she walked over, but it didn’t meet her eyes.

“Jackson’s not here,” she informed the three of you.

“Yeah,” Stiles agreed. “No one’s here.”

“Maybe it’s just early,” Scott suggested.

Stiles rolled his eyes. “Or maybe nobody’s coming because Lydia’s turned into the town whackjob.”

“Well we have to do something,” Allison insisted. “Because we’ve completely ignored her for the past two weeks.”

“She’s completely ignored Stiles for the past ten years.”

“I prefer to think of it as me not being on her radar,” Stiles told Scott.

Scott sighed. “We don’t owe her a party.”

“What about the chance to get back to normal?” you asked. “I mean, she wouldn’t be the town whackjob if it wasn’t for us.”

Scott’s face softened. “I guess I could use my co-captain status to get the lacrosse team here.”

“Yeah,” Stiles agreed. “Me and Y/n also know some people who can get this thing going. Like, really going.”

You grinned at him, knowing exactly what he was thinking, and Allison stared at the two of you in confusion. “Who?”

“We met them the other night,” you explained. “Let’s just say they know how to party.”

About half an hour later, Lydia’s house was filled to the brim with people. The entire lacrosse team arrived fashionably late, along with half the school. Even the drag queens you and Stiles met at Jungle had shown up. 

As it turned out, no one cared if Lydia had run naked through the woods for several days. She still knew how to throw one hell of a party.

You were currently helping her hand out drinks near the back door as people continued to flow in. Stiles watched you longingly from across the pool. He thought you were beautiful all the time, but with your hair done up and the party lights shining down on you, he felt the undeniable urge to walk over and kiss you. 

“What are you looking at?” Scott asked, following his gaze over to you.

“Uh, n-nothing,” Stiles sputtered. “Are you going to apologize to Allison?”

Scott frowned. “Why should I apologize?”

“Because you’re the guy,” Stiles reminded him. “It’s, like, what we do.”

“But I didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Then you should definitely apologize. See, anytime a dude thinks he hasn’t done anything wrong, it means he’s definitely done something wrong.”

“I’m not apologizing.”

Stiles raised his eyebrows. “Is that the full moon talking, buddy?”

“Probably,” Scott grumbled. “Why do you care anyway?”

Stiles threw up his hands in exasperation. “Because, Scott, something’s gotta go right here! I mean, we’re getting our asses royally kicked here, if you haven’t noticed. People are dying, I got my dad fired, you’re gonna be held back in school, I’m in love with your sister-”

Stiles suddenly let out a choking sound, realizing what he had just said. Scott stared at him with raised eyebrows, and then he let out a soft laugh. “I know, dude.”

“You...you do?”

Scott was looking at Stiles like he was stupid. “It’s pretty obvious. Plus, I heard you talking together in her room last night. You do remember I have super hearing, right?”

Stiles scratched the back of his neck. “Oh...right. Why didn’t you call us out on it?”

Scott shrugged. “I could tell something was wrong. I’m just glad she has you to talk to about it.”

Stiles nodded. “Everything’s so crazy right now. I don’t even know how we’d make it work, but if I don’t get the chance to find out, I’m going to stab myself in the face.”

“Don’t stab yourself in the face,” Scott said suddenly. 

“Why not?”

“Because Jackson’s here,” Scott told him. 

Stiles glanced over to the door. Sure enough, Jackson was walking into the party. Lydia smiled at him and placed a glass of punch in his hand. 

“Glad you could make it,” she told him.

He simply nodded at her and walked over toward the pool, closer to Stiles and Scott. You watched as Lydia’s lips turned into an ugly frown, but she quickly plastered a smile back on her face. 

“Maybe you should talk to him,” you suggested quietly.

Lydia let out a short laugh. “Please. He’s going to come talk to me by the end of the night. I refuse to chase after him...but I know he’ll probably be chasing after me later.”

You nervously glanced over at Jackson. If he was here, the person controlling him probably was too. Lydia had no idea how right she was. 

You couldn’t shake the feeling that this party was going to end in disaster. The last thing you and the boys wanted was another dead body, but that seemed inevitable at this point. 

“I’m going to bring some punch to Scott,” Lydia told you, scooping another cup off the clothed table. “I wanna figure out what’s going on with him and Allison.”

You nodded, and as she walked away, you saw the back door open once more. You put down the glass of punch you had been sipping on. It was almost finished anyway, and you had to take over giving them out now that Lydia was gone. 

That was when you realized the figure walking through the door was Matt. You froze when his eyes landed on you. He stepped closer, and you wanted to turn away, but you were rooted to the spot. 

“Can we talk?” he asked. 

He looked sheepish, and you felt a twinge of sympathy. Matt didn’t look threatening. He had his hands nervously stuffed into his pockets, and he was rocking back on his heels. 

Besides, you were in a house full of people. What could he possibly do to you?

You nodded, and walked into the house, gesturing for him to follow. “You get two minutes.”

You headed toward one of Lydia’s spare bedrooms in the packed hallway, weaving through the crowded house. When you stepped into the room, Matt reached out to close the doors. When he saw you eyeing him, he stopped. 

“Right,” he muttered, propping the door back open. “So I know I took some pictures of you that I probably should have told you about...but is it really bad that I think you’re beautiful? And that I think you should be the subject of a perfect photograph?”

“Matt...I don’t even know how you got some of those pictures.”

“ A telephoto lens,” he informed you. “I mean, come on, Y/n. Photographers call them candids.”

“Well Stiles’ dad would call it stalking.”

Matt scoffed. “Stalking? So I’m a stalker now, is that it? You think my bedroom is wallpapered with your photos? You think I’m the type of guy that’s gonna say something like ‘If I can’t have her, no one can.’?”

A flash of bright red hair caught your attention as you looked past Matt. Lydia was weaving through the halls, pulling Stiles behind her as he grasped one of her hands. You felt your stomach flip.

You looked back to Matt, who was still talking. “Well you know what? Get over yourself, because there’s another pretty girl walking through the room every five minutes.”

You held up your hands. “Well then all you have to do is wait another three.”

“Y/n, wait!”

You strode past him, but he grabbed your arm, yanking you back to face him. The hair on the back of your neck stood up when you met Matt’s eyes. They were cold and angry, and they didn’t leave your face once. 

Suddenly, he let you go. “Hey, I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. You must think I’m such a freak.”

He was back to being sheepish, self-deprecating Matt, but you weren’t sticking around to fall for the act any longer. You had to find Stiles and tell him what happened. The first chance you got, you were going to take his advice and go to the police. 

You rushed out of the spare room and headed in the direction of Lydia and Stiles. They had disappeared down a deserted hall, and when you turned down it, you saw the two of them tucked into a corner. 

Lydia had her hands resting on Stiles’ chest. He was leaning down and kissing her as his hands tangled in her strawberry blonde curls. You swallowed, and started to back up, but then he looked up at you. 

His lips curled into a cruel smirk, and Lydia glanced over her shoulder at you.

“What?” he asked with a sharp laugh. “You actually thought I’d choose you instead of Lydia?”

Your throat went dry. You wanted to say something, to tell him that you thought he had cared about you the other night, but you couldn’t speak.

“Come on, Y/n,” Lydia chimed in. “You really think you could compete with me?”

“You’re Scott’s little sister,” Stiles continued. “Your little crush was never going to turn into anything.”

Stiles turned back to Lydia, and the two of them began to make out again. You stumbled back, bumping right into someone else. 

“Hey, watch where you’re going!” A blonde girl in a tube top snapped. 

You blinked, suddenly realizing that there were other people flowing through the hallway. When you looked back into the corner Stiles and Lydia had been in, it was empty, as if they had never been there at all. 

You shook your head, trying to shake off what you had just seen. It wasn’t real, but it definitely felt like it. You stumbled back toward the pool, wanting to find the others. You had only had one full cup of that punch, but there was definitely something wrong with it. 

You had only been drunk a few times before, but you had never hallucinated an entire conversation with two people. This had to be something else. 

You tried to make your way back toward the living room, but you only made it as far as the kitchen. Lydia’s house seemed to blur before your eyes, and you realized that the punch had hit you harder than you thought. 

You leaned back against the counter, but you ended up slowly sinking down to sit on the kitchen floor, too dizzy to stand up. You were probably only sitting there for a few minutes, but it felt like hours until you heard a familiar voice say your name. 

“Y/n?”

It was Lydia. She was kneeling in front of you, clearly concerned. You felt a twinge of jealousy as you thought back to that scene in the hallway. You wanted to tell her to leave you alone, but you knew you had no real reason to be mad at her. Lydia didn’t actually have feelings for Stiles. 

“Are you okay?” she asked. “Should I get Scott?” “No,” you said quickly. “He’ll be upset at me. What did you put in that punch?”

Lydia’s lips quirked up. “It’s a secret recipe. You should really be more careful, Y/n.”

“Is she okay?” you heard someone else ask. 

You glanced up, but the other figure blurred as your head began to spin. 

“I think I can handle this on my own, Jackson.”

“Do you want me to get her a bottle of water?”

“Uh, yeah, that would be great.”

A couple minutes later, a blurry hand was holding a water bottle in your face.

“Can you stay with her for a second? I actually have something I need to take care of.”

He must have said yes, because Jackson sat down next to you and opened the bottle. “You need to drink as much of this as you can.”

You eyed him carefully, and even in your drunken state, you managed to be suspicious. 

“What?” he asked. “I can’t do something nice?”

You were silent, and he rolled his eyes. “Fine. Have a killer hangover in the morning. See if I care.”

The more you thought about it though, the more you realized Scott would be disappointed if you couldn’t sober up. So you took the bottle from Jackson’s hand and began to drink. 

You didn’t know how long you were sitting there, but Lydia never came back, and Jackson eventually got up and left. Even after drinking the water, you felt terrible. In fact, you might have even felt worse. 

The room was blurring around you, and you were getting sleepier by the second. When a pair of legs came into your view and stopped, you weren’t even concerned that you didn’t recognize them. You didn’t protest as arms came around your waist to steady you and pull you to your feet.

You felt something wet soaking into your dress, and you flinched away. 

“It’s just water. I fell in the pool.”

“Stiles?” you mumbled, as you were led out of Lydia’s house. 

“It’s okay,” a voice was telling you, but you were too out of it to realize who was talking. “We’re going to the jeep.”

Your head lolled onto the figure’s wet sleeve, and you caught sight of the stars, blurring above your head in the night sky. 

“It’s pretty,” you mumbled. 

“It is,” the voice agreed.

Stiles laid you in the passenger seat. He clicked the seatbelt across your chest and shut the doors. You ran your fingers along the seat and the door, feeling the smooth leather interior. 

“This isn’t the jeep,” you realized sleepily. 

The car was too sleek. It was too nice to be Stiles’.

“It’s okay, we’re just going home.”

Steady fingers tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear. You felt sicker by the second, and it wasn’t just because of the alcohol. “Where’s Stiles?”

When you heard the driver’s side door shut, you looked over to see who had rescued you. You felt your stomach drop. 

“Matt,” you choked. 

He looked over at you and smiled. You reached up, weakly fumbling with the door handle, but your fingers kept slipping. Everything was too blurry, and Matt wasn’t offering any help either. 

“No,” you whispered. “Please let me out.”

He laughed softly and hushed you, reaching out to grab your hand. He squeezed your trembling fingers and smiled. “It’s going to be okay. I promise.”

“No,” you kept mumbling, but as Matt started the car, you began to fade. 

You watched as the streetlights passed through the window, blurring into gold and white blobs. With your eyes slowly drifting shut, you wondered where your brother was. How long would it take Scott and Stiles to realize you were gone? Would they be able to find you? And if they weren’t, what would Matt do to you?

-----

“The cops are here!”

All of Lydia’s guests scattered from around the pool. Scott grabbed Stiles by the arm and tugged him back from the panicking crowd. 

“Where’s Matt?” he demanded. “Where did he go?”

They scanned the crowd, but Matt, along with Jackson, was gone. 

“Wait, Scott, have you seen your sister?” Stiles asked. 

“Not for a while.”

Stiles went pale. “We need to find her.”

“Why?” Scott demanded, grabbing Stiles’ shoulder before he could turn away. “What do you know that I don’t?” The horrified look in his friend’s eyes sent an uneasy chill through Scott. “Stiles?”

“Matt was watching her,” Stiles admitted. “She told me last night that he was taking pictures, stalking her. She saw them when he left his camera in the car. I wanted to tell you, but there wasn’t time…”

Scott felt the air leave his lungs. If Matt was controlling the Kanima and he got his hands on you, there was nothing you could do to protect yourself. 

Together, he and Stiles searched through Lydia’s house, narrowly avoiding the cops outside. His attempts to catch a scent failed, and they had no idea where Matt would have taken you. 

Allison had left a few minutes before the cops showed up with no explanation. Scott never got the chance to ask her about it, but he was willing to bet it had something to do with her family. His texts to her had gone unanswered, so he had to assume she hadn’t seen you. 

Lydia was nowhere to be found either, but Scott was able to track her scent to the treeline at the edge of her property. It was strange, though she could have just been taking a walk to clear her head. You were his biggest priority right now, and neither he or Stiles could find any trace of you.

“We have to call the police,” Scott told him after they finished. “She’s gone.”

Stiles nodded, running a nervous hand through his hair. They were standing in Lydia’s driveway, gazing out into the dark neighborhood. The cops were long gone by now, but Stiles had a feeling they wouldn’t take your disappearance seriously. It was a party, you had been drinking, and everyone had scattered. 

Stiles had grown up with most of the police officers at the station. He knew the way they thought. He knew how plausible it was for them to assume you were just laying low for a while, trying to avoid getting busted for underage drinking. 

“No,” Stiles told Scott. “We have to call my dad.”

“Isn’t he still mad at you?”

“It doesn’t matter. If Matt’s willing to kill the people who piss him off, what do you think he’s gonna do to Y/n when she rejects him?”

Scott didn’t answer. All he could think about was the way Matt’s victims had been ripped apart by the Kanima. If he was really obsessed with you, maybe he wouldn’t hurt you, but they had no way of knowing for sure. They could only hope that you were clever enough to stay alive as they raced to find you. 

#tw stalking #teen wolf #selfignitingimagines #stiles stilinski #stiles stilinski imagines #Teen Wolf Ships #teen wolf imagines

[selfignitingimagines]

Derek- Unlikely Allies

A/N: Hey guys, this is a rewrite of something I made a really long time ago. I wanted to mess around with some old concepts that I feel I didn’t flesh out enough. Let me know what you think, or if you want a part 2 of this one!

You raced through the pitch black corridor, shining your flashlight back and forth. You caught glimpses of grimy cement as you ran, narrowly dodging debris on the floor of the old rail depot. It was littered with rusted metal and broken glass, no doubt remnants of Beacon Hills’ abandoned subway cars. 

It was fitting for Derek to have his hideout here, you thought. He seemed to have a habit of living in abandoned places. It must have been working pretty well, because finding him had been difficult. You had torn up your father’s office trying to find the place, knowing Allison must have discovered Derek’s location somewhere in the maps cluttering his desk. 

Your father had narrowed down a couple locations, one of them being the abandoned rail depot on the outskirts of town. When you took a chance and drove out there, a glimpse of Allison’s car out front confirmed your suspicions. She was here to kill Derek. 

You cursed yourself as you searched the depot, wondering if you could have stopped Gerard from getting into her head. Maybe if you had paid more attention, you wouldn’t have had to try and reverse the damage your grandfather had done.

A light up ahead caught your attention. There was a staircase to your right, dimly illuminated from the floor below. You clicked the flashlight off and crept closer. 

“Wait, stop. You don’t know what you’re doing.”

That was Derek’s voice.

“Shut up!”

And that was Allison’s.

You swore under your breath. As you crept down the stairs, you saw Allison standing in front of one of the old subway cars. She had her crossbow raised, and Derek was lying on his back in front of her. He held one hand up defensively, while the other gripped an arrow that was sticking out of his right thigh. Blood was pooling around the wound, which wouldn’t be able to heal until the arrow was removed.

“You killed my mother!” she spat. Her voice was trembling. 

“Your family’s little honor code killed your mother,” Derek snapped. 

You rolled your eyes. Leave it to Derek to still be an ass, even with a crossbow trained on his chest. 

Allison’s finger moved onto the trigger, and you bolted down the stairs. “Wait!”

She glanced over her shoulder, and when she saw you approaching, her brown eyes widened. She turned back to Derek, keeping the crossbow steady. 

“You shouldn’t have followed me, Y/n.”

“I’m trying to protect you,” you told her. 

She let out a bitter laugh. “From what? The monsters? I think we’re past that.”

“Allison-”

“You hid this from me!” she spat. “And now you want to try and protect me? Mom is dead. Maybe you should have protected her.”

You looked down and met Derek’s eyes. He knew that Allison was willing to pull the trigger and so did you. He seemed to be asking the same question you were. Could you stop her?

“I’m trying to protect you from yourself. Killing him won’t bring her back, Allison.”

“No, but it will make me feel better.”

“You sure about that?” Derek asked. 

“Yes,” she snarled, moving her finger back onto the trigger.

She might have actually pulled it if you had given her the chance. You couldn’t have been sure, but you weren’t willing to risk it. Derek was an ally that you needed, whether Allison knew that or not. If saving him meant Gerard would be stopped, you had to do what you did next.

Allison froze at the sound of you cocking your gun behind her. “Put it down.”

“Or what?” she asked bitterly. “You’ll put me down?”

A chill ran down your spine. It was the same thing your father had said to Kate on the night she was killed. Allison’s words brought back the bittersweet feelings your aunt’s death had caused.

“If I have to,” you finally said.

“I’m your sister.” Her voice was uneven, as if she was trying to stop herself from crying. 

“I don’t know what you are anymore. All I see right now is the monster that Gerard created.”

Her hands were trembling. The crossbow was shaking in her grip. For a moment, you wondered if you had said the wrong thing. 

Then the weapon fell from her hands, clattering to the cement floor. Allison bolted, running out of the room and up the same stairs you had come down. You could see the tears dripping down her cheeks as she left. Guilt washed over you, but you knew you couldn’t go after her. 

You holstered your gun and walked toward Derek.

“I’m sorry,” you apologized, holding out a hand.

Derek glared up at you from the dirty floor. He yanked the arrow out of his thigh with a grunt. He didn’t take your hand as he got up, but he did mutter gruffly “You’re not the one who shot me.”

You watched as the  wound in his leg began to close up, leaving nothing but a bloody stain and a slight rip in his jeans. He began to turn away from you, heading toward one of the rickety subway cars.

“I need your help,” you blurted out.

Derek paused, and turned to raise an eyebrow at you. “With what?”

“I need to kill Gerard.”

“You think that’s gonna save your family?”

You didn’t falter under his gaze. “It’s going to save Allison.”

He crossed his arms over his chest, staring at you for a moment. You looked exhausted, and the dim lights of the old subway station hollowed out your face. Your eyes were still full of life though, sharp and gleaming. Derek could see how desperate you were.

“What if it can’t?” he asked. “What if she…?”

“What if she turns into Kate?” 

He nodded solemnly. 

“Then I’ll kill her myself,” you said softly. “But she doesn’t understand that he’s manipulating her right now. She thinks she’s doing what she wants.” 

“And how do I know I can trust you?” he asked. 

“We have a common enemy. And right now, I couldn’t care less about you being an alpha. Bite as many kids as you want. Hell, bite me if you want to. I just want my sister back.”

Derek’s lips twitched. Was he actually smiling at you? 

“You’d let me bite you if I helped you?”

You felt your breath catch in your throat. “If that’s what it takes.”

Derek raised his eyebrows. “Really?”

“Yes.”

“Fine. Give me your arm.”

You cautiously held out your left arm. He reached out and took it, stepping toward you so that your chests were almost touching. He raised your arm to his mouth, and his teeth were so close that you could feel his breath on your skin.

He gazed down at you and grinned, revealing his abnormally sharp canines. You swallowed, and suddenly, he chuckled. That broke the stillness in the air, and you realized he was only messing with you. 

You wrenched your arm out of his grasp as he laughed. “What the hell is the matter with you?”

He grinned. “You should have seen the look on your face.”

“You’re such an asshole,” you spat. “Forget I asked.”

You turned to go, but he grabbed your wrist. “Wait. If you want to stop Gerard, we need to talk to Scott.”

You turned back, shooting him a skeptical look. “Why Scott?” 

“Because we have a plan,” he told you. “And it might be the only chance you have to save your sister.”

“How do I know you’re being serious?” you questioned.

He shrugged. “Like you said, we have a common enemy.”

“And after that?” you asked. 

“We can go on hating each other. Just like old times.”

He was right. The werewolves helping you kill Gerard didn’t necessarily mean you would continue to be allies. As soon as he was dead, you could go right back to the vitriol and violence. 

Deep down though, you knew things in Beacon Hills were shifting. Without Gerard at the helm of the Argent empire, maybe fighting wouldn’t have to be the only option.

“What if things could be different?”

“Like if we didn’t hate each other?” Derek asked.

“I’ve never hated you.”

“I can’t say the same,” he admitted. “But...I don’t hate you anymore.”

“There shouldn’t always be a war going on between us.”

Derek tilted his head. “That’s the way it’s always been.”

“Maybe...maybe it doesn’t have to be.”

Derek’s gaze was skeptical, and you suddenly felt embarrassed for saying it. Of course the idea of peace sounded ridiculous to him. Then he spoke, his words catching you off guard.

“We’ll see,” he said softly. “Hey, what’s wrong with your arm?”

You glanced down, just now noticing the purple bruising that was blooming along your right forearm. It was throbbing with pain, but in the chaos of trying to stop Allison, you had barely noticed. 

You had been headed out of the house after her when you ran into Gerard in the foyer of your home. He was blocking your exit, and when you tried to move past him, he snatched you by the arm. His fingers had gripped you so tightly that you swore the bone was about to break. 

“You’ll never catch her in time.”

“Let go of me,” you spat at him. 

Gerard had simply stared at you with those dark eyes of his. “You’ve always been my greatest disappointment.”

Without a second thought, you slammed your knee between his legs. “Good.”

He had grunted in pain, and his knees buckled. You wrenched your arm out of his grasp and ran. You sped all the way to the rail depot, paranoid he would chase after you and stop you.

“It’s nothing,” you told Derek. “I’m fine.”

He wasn’t buying it. “Did Gerard do that to you?”

“Does it matter?”

“Here,” Derek told you, reaching for your arm. 

“What are you-”

“Trust me?”

You didn’t say anything more, and he took that a yes. He placed one hand under your wounded arm to steady it, and the other one over the bruise. His movements were tender and soft, something you wouldn’t have expected from Derek. You gasped as the veins in his arm began to turn black, and you realized your pain was ebbing away.

When you looked up, there was a hint of a smile playing at his lips. “I bet the hunters never told you we could do that, huh?”

You shook your head, still stunned as he gently held your arm in his hands. “Why did you do that?” 

“Maybe you’re right,” he said softly. “Maybe things can be different.”

You looked into Derek’s green eyes, and for once, you saw something similar inside of them. You and Derek  were both struggling under the weight of your families’ bloody past. You both needed to prove them wrong. If anyone could understand you, it was him. 

You pulled away, but a part of you hesitated for a moment. Something was stirring inside of you, but you refused to acknowledge it while there was so much going on. By the way Derek was looking at you, you could tell he felt it too. 

Finally, you cleared your throat. “So we need to talk to Scott?”

“Yeah,” he said, awkwardly bringing his arms back down to his sides. “We’ve got a homicidal maniac to kill.”

For now that was the plan. Kill Gerard, take back your family, and save Allison. After that, maybe you and Derek could be something more than unlikely allies.

#teen wolf #teen wolf imagines #selfignitingimagines #derek hale imagines #Teen Wolf Ships

[selfignitingimagines]

Stiles- Meant to Be (Obsessed Part 3)

A/N: Here is part 3 of Obsessed! It’s a big long so I’ve decided to split it into two parts based on your feedback. Thank you to anyone who responded to that post! 

TRIGGER WARNING: Stalking, kidnapping, brief descriptions of attempted sexual assault

Here are the links to part 1 and part 2!!

You woke to the feeling of nausea blooming in your stomach. With a groan, you rolled onto your side, only to realize that your hands were bound. When you opened your eyes, you found that you were lying in a dark room on an unfamiliar bed. 

Confusion washed over you, and when you tried to remember the events of the previous night, there was nothing but a blank spot in your mind. The last thing you knew, you were walking into Lydia’s birthday party with Stiles trailing in front of you. You remembered his crooked smile as he glanced over his shoulder, and then there was nothing. 

You could see sunlight filtering through a pair of gray curtains, so you knew you must have slept through all of last night. You struggled against the duct tape for a few more minutes, but you eventually realized you couldn’t break out of it.

A whimper escaped your lips, but it was muffled by the tape pressed over your mouth. That was when you heard footsteps outside the bedroom door. You closed your eyes quickly, trying to quell your panic. 

You heard the door swing open. The footsteps paused. That was when the sound of a camera shutter cut through the silence. It happened a few more times, and then the bed dipped with the weight of someone else. Warm fingers were suddenly running down your face, stroking your cheek. 

Then the tape over your mouth was pulled off, causing you to flinch in pain. You opened your eyes, knowing you would be unable to hide the fact that you were awake now.

Matt was staring down at you, smiling in a way that made the hair on the back of your neck stand up. There was something eerie about the look in his blue eyes. 

“I’m sorry I had to trick you,” he murmured. “After we talked, I knew you would never just come with me. I knew you wouldn’t understand.”

He had a water bottle in his hand, dripping with condensation. He held it out to you. “You should drink some water. You’re probably dehydrated.”

You glared at him. How stupid did he think you were?

“I didn’t put anything in it this time,” he promised. 

So he had drugged you. You were suspicious, given your lack of memory of the previous night, but you weren’t sure until now. 

“Look,” he said, unscrewing the cap. He took several big gulps and offered the bottle to you once more. 

Finally, you sat up and took the water. It was a little difficult with your hands still taped together, but you drained it in seconds. He was probably right about you being dehydrated. 

He took the empty bottle and tossed it into a black, plastic trash can on the side of the bed. It was then that you really had the chance to look around the room. 

The decor was sleek and modern. There were some art pieces decorating the walls, all of them pictures or paintings of sports cars. There were a couple of lamps, a nightstand, and a desk in the room. The comforter and pillow cases were all a dark grey color. It was then that you realized where you were.

“You brought me to Jackson’s house?” 

Matt’s eyes narrowed. “You’ve been here before?”

You rolled your eyes. “Why? Are you jealous?”

“You’ve been spending too much time with Stiles,” he snapped. 

Clearly he didn’t appreciate the sarcasm.

“I had to come here when Jackson and I got partnered up for a project in graphic design class,” you explained. “I remembered cause he’s the only guy who has fifteen pictures of his own car up on the wall.”

Matt smiled. “I like to think I’m humbling him.”

You swallowed. “Yeah, by using him to kill people? Where are his parents anyway? Where is he?”

Matt sighed, and reached out. You flinched back, but he simply placed his hand over yours. He ran his thumb across your skin in a gesture you assumed was meant to be comforting. It wasn’t.

“They’re out of town until next week. He’s downstairs, but it doesn’t really matter, considering he does whatever I want right now.”

Your face contorted his disgust. Matt frowned.

“You don’t understand right now, but all of those people deserved it.” 

He leaned in close, as if the two of you were sharing a secret. “You’re telling me you’ve never wanted anyone dead?”

“I think there’s a big difference between wanting someone dead and actually killing them,” you protested.

Matt tilted his head. “I don’t think so. You’re telling me that you wouldn’t kill that guy who attacked you on the lacrosse field if you had the chance?”

He had to be talking about Peter Hale. It was no secret that you and Lydia almost died at the winter formal, but you wondered if Matt knew the exact details now that he had discovered the supernatural. 

“He’s already dead,” you told him quietly. 

“That’s a shame, because if I could, I’d kill him for you. I’d rip him apart for doing what he did to you.”

He reached up, stroking his thumb across your cheek. “I’m sure what he did left scars.”

You looked down. You didn’t like to think about that night. Peter had almost killed you when you tried to stop him from attacking Lydia. Even so, you felt lucky. You hadn’t made it out with any of the strange behaviors or hallucinations that she seemed to be plagued by. If you had your way, you would pretend it never happened. 

 “You know, I don’t know what you see in Stiles. He was the one who left you there, bleeding.”

You glanced up in shock. There was only one way he could possibly know that. “You were watching.”. 

“I was,” he told you. “I was taking photos for the winter formal. That night was the first time I ever saw you. I wanted to ask you to dance, but you seemed distracted. You were looking for Lydia, but I didn’t know that, so I followed you.”

Your stomach churned at the thought of Matt watching from the shadows. He would have witnessed every bite, every slash of Peter’s claws. He would have been watching as you dug your fingers into the grass while you attempted to get away, breaking your nails in the process.

“So you saw everything?” you whispered. 

“No, I didn’t. I didn’t make it out of the gym in time to see where you walked off to. By the time I found you, you were lying next to Lydia on the lacrosse field. You weren’t moving, and I couldn’t really see the guy who attacked you. His back was turned, but I could see Stiles was with him. And then he just left you there.”

“He had to,” you insisted. “Peter threatened to kill us if he didn’t leave with him.”

 Matt let out a short laugh. “Is that what you tell yourself? You think Stiles is this big hero, but I was the one who saved you that night.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you told him.

“You really don’t remember?” he asked incredulously. “I was the one who called 911. I thought you were dead when I ran over, but you weren’t. I held your hand. I waited with you while the ambulance came, and you opened your eyes and looked at me before you passed out again. That’s when I knew that we were meant to be together.”

You swallowed. The thought of Matt being there as you bled out on the field, and then deciding to stalk you for months because of it sent another wave of nausea through you. Had he really been watching you for that long?

“Y/n?” Matt asked. “Are you-”

Before he could finish, you leaned over and vomited into the trashcan next to Jackson’s bed. Matt reached forward and swept your hair back and out of your face, but the feel of his hands on your neck just made your skin crawl. 

It reminded you of the time you and Stiles had gotten drunk with Scott in the woods after Allison had broken up with him. You had thrown up in the bushes as Stiles held your hair back. You remembered the comfort of his hand on your back and how he told you that you didn’t have to be embarrassed, that everyone got sick from drinking at least once. 

Matt’s hands were the opposite of comforting. All they did was remind you that you were stuck with him. 

When you finished throwing up, Matt guided you into the bathroom. He pulled out a pocket knife and cut off the tape around your wrists. He leaned against the door frame, probably intending to watch you, but you looked back at him. “Can I just have a second alone? Please?”

Matt seemed a little hurt, but he nodded and shut the door behind him. As soon as he was gone, you let the tears spill from your eyes. You washed your mouth out in the sink and then took a swig of Jackson’s mouth wash. 

When you were finished, you kept the sink running, hoping it would be able to cover up the sound of you crying. You wiped your face, over and over, but you couldn’t help it. The tears just kept flowing and the more you thought about it, the more scared you became. 

You wondered where Scott and Stiles were. You had no doubt they knew you were missing by now and were trying to find you. You just weren’t sure if they would be able to.

------

“So this kid’s the real killer...and you think he took Y/n?”

Stiles looked back at Scott before answering his dad. The three of them were in Stiles’ bedroom, examining one of the old Beacon Hills Highschool yearbooks he had resting on his desk. A picture of Matt was on one of the pages below, circled several times in red sharpie. 

“Yeah.”

Sheriff Stilinski stared down at it for a few moments. Then he shook his head. “No.”

“Yes!” Stiles insisted. 

“No.”

“Dad, come on!” Stiles protested, jumping out of his desk chair. “Everyone knows the police look for ways to connect victims in a murder, okay? So, like, all they have to do is look through their transcripts and figure out which class they all had in common.”

“Yeah, except for the fact that the rave promoter, Cara, wasn’t in Harris’ class.”

Stiles rolled his eyes. “Alright, okay, you’re right, sorry. So I guess they just drop the charges against him?”

His father glared at him. “No, you know what? They’re not dropping the charges, but that doesn’t prove anything. And no one saw Y/n being taken. I mean, no one even saw her and Matt together last night.”

Stiles opened his mouth to continue, but the Sheriff cut him off. “Scott, do you believe this?”

Scott nodded. “It’s really hard to explain how we know this, but you just gotta trust us. We know it’s Matt.”

“Yeah, he took Harris’ car,” Stiles insisted. “He knew that if a cop found tire tracks at one of the murders and that if enough of the victims were in Harris’ class, they’d arrest him!”

“Alright, fine. I’ll allow the remote possibility, but give me a motive for the murders. I mean, why would this kid want most of the 2006 swim team and its coach dead?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Stiles asked. “Our swim team sucks! They haven’t won in like six years...okay, we don’t have a motive yet. I mean come on, does Harris? Plus, the guy’s a total creep. He has to have Y/n. He was stalking her. And if they can arrest him, they can find her.”

The Sheriff nodded solemnly. “What do you want me to do?”

“We need to look at the evidence,” Scott told him. 

“Yeah, that would be in the station...where I no longer work.”

“Trust me. They’ll let you in,” Stiles said. 

“Trust you?” his dad repeated. 

Stiles pursed his lips. “Trust...trust Scott?”

His dad looked back and forth between them. 

“Scott I trust.”

------

You sat on Jackson’s bed, hugging your knees as the credits from another old movie ran across the screen. This one was Jaws.

While Matt was holding you hostage in Jackson’s room, he insisted that the two of you have a classic movie marathon, since Jackson’s parents had quite the collection. You had already made it through Casablanca, The Exorcist, and It’s a Wonderful Life.

It was dark outside by now, and Matt got up to pick another movie from the stack sitting on the nightstand. 

“Now this is one of the best,” he told you, holding the DVD case up for you to see. 

It had an old, creepy looking house on the front of it. The title read Psycho in bold white letters.

Fitting, you thought to yourself.

You honestly weren’t sure if you could stand another second cooped up in the room with Matt. He had been sitting next to you for hours, pointing out all the little nuances in each movie. If you were in a different situation, you might have been happy to learn why these movies were considered classics. Being forced to watch them while you were held hostage seemed to take all the excitement out of it. 

You couldn’t even bring yourself to take a bite out of the pizza Matt ordered, though you hadn’t had anything to eat since last night. 

You had actually considered screaming for help when the pizza guy arrived, but Matt had already thought of that. He made Jackson wait with you upstairs while he went to the door, and he kept a clawed hand at your throat, squeezing just hard enough that you couldn’t make a sound. 

“Can we go outside?” you asked Matt suddenly. 

“You haven’t even touched your pizza,” he complained. 

He gestured to the paper plate sitting on the comforter. It had been sitting there long enough that grease was beginning to soak into it.

“I’m not hungry. I think I need some air. Can we please go outside?”

Matt thought for a moment. At first, you thought he might agree. Your hopes were dashed when he got up from the bed. “I’ll just open a window for you.”

“Fine,” you muttered. 

You crossed your arms over your chest and leaned back against the pillows. You were exhausted, but you were too afraid to go to sleep. Your head was pounding, and you were weak from the lack of food in your stomach. 

Matt smiled as you reached for the paper plate and finally started to eat. You ignored him as best you could. Halfway through Psycho, Matt’s eyes started to droop.

You felt a flutter of hope as you realized he was falling asleep. You closed your own eyes, hoping he would let his guard down. When you felt his body slump back against the pillows, you opened your eyes again. He began to snore softly.

You waited a few more minutes until you were sure he was sleeping soundly. That was when you rose from the bed and moved toward the open window. Thankfully, Jackson had no screens over the windows. His house was two stories high, but you were willing to risk breaking something if it meant getting away from Matt. If you rolled off the roof and tucked in your limbs, you might make it out unscathed. 

You were just starting to pull yourself through the window when you heard the bed creak behind you. You froze. 

“Y/n, no!”

You threw yourself through the window and out onto the sloping roof, but Matt’s hand locked around your ankle. You screamed as he started to drag you back inside, grasping desperately at the window pane. One of his hands came around to cover your mouth, muffling your cries.

“What the hell are you doing?!” Matt snarled. He grabbed a handful of your hair and yanked you back through the window. 

You whimpered as he tossed you onto the carpet. You scrambled back on your hands and knees, but he grabbed you by the throat and dragged you up to your feet. He walked you backward, slamming you against the wall. 

The back of your head hit the plaster, causing you to see white for a moment. 

“What the hell is wrong with you?!” he screamed in your face. “What were you gonna do?! Jump off the roof?! You could have broken your leg, or-or your neck! You want to leave me that bad?!”

When he said that last part, his voice seemed to change. It dropped what seemed like ten octaves, and he almost sounded like he wasn’t human for a second.

His face was bright red as he screamed at you. His fingers were digging into your neck so forcefully that you knew there was going to be a bruise.

“I’m sorry,” you sobbed over and over again. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

Tears were streaming down your face, and you were shaking. You weren’t sure what Matt was going to do to you, but then his face softened. 

“Hey. Hey, don’t cry, Y/n. I’m sorry.”

His fingers left your throat, and you collapsed onto the ground, still sobbing. He lowered himself to his knees and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you against his chest. 

“I’m sorry,” he murmured against your hair. “I didn’t mean to scare you like that. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

He stroked your hair with one hand, but you couldn’t stop shaking. You wouldn’t look at him. You were too afraid of what you would see in his icy blue eyes. 

“Y/n, please look at me,” he begged. 

You closed your eyes. 

“Look at me!” he ordered.

Finally you did. To your surprise, he was crying too. He reached up, cupping your cheek with his palm. “I’m sorry. I don’t ever want to hurt you like that again. You just scared me.”

You were silent, terrified that if you said the wrong thing it might set him off again. He leaned in, pressing his forehead against yours. 

“I love you, Y/n,” he murmured. “I couldn’t live with myself if something happened to you.”

He traced your jaw with his thumb. Your face was still flushed from crying, and there were still undried tears dripping down your cheeks. Matt tenderly wiped them away, but you still flinched at his touch. 

“You don’t have to be afraid of me,” he whispered. 

Says the psycho who kidnapped me, you wanted to shout, but all you could do was sit there. 

“Tell me you’re not afraid of me,” he begged. “Tell me that you love me too.”

“I...I’m not afraid of you,” you whispered hoarsely.

“Tell me that you love me.”

“I love you.” 

Your voice was so soft that he barely heard you. 

“You do?”

“I do,” you lied. 

He smiled, and cupped your face in his hands as he leaned in to kiss you. You felt your stomach sinking when he pressed his lips against yours. You had played into his fantasy, but you weren’t sure you had any choice. 

He placed one hand against your lower back, pressing you closer. You felt like you could barely get a breath in, and you were growing dizzy. 

Then he moved forward, laying you down on the carpet. You pushed back, but he reached down to pin your wrists onto the ground. 

“Matt, wait-”

“It’s okay,” he murmured against your lips. “It’s okay. I’m not gonna hurt you.”

“Matt, stop. Plea-”

His mouth was back on yours, cutting you off. He ran one hand down your hip, and his fingers grasped the hem of your dress. He was pushing it up your thighs. 

You panicked, glancing around to see if there was any possible way you could break out of his hold.

That was when you noticed the bottom of his t-shirt riding up. His stomach was exposed, but there was something wrong with it. Instead of smooth, pale skin, it was a dark, brownish green. It looked textured.

“What’s wrong with your stomach?” you gasped. 

“What?”

Matt drew back and lifted up his shirt. When he looked down at his side, he found that it was partially covered in dark green scales, exactly like the Kanima’s. 

“W-what is that?” he asked. “What does that mean?”

“I don’t know.” you admitted. You took the opportunity to sit up and readjust your dress with trembling fingers.

“Who would know?” he demanded. “Scott? Stiles?”

“I’m not sure,” you told him. “The Argents, maybe. They’ve got this book, it’s like a history of mythical creatures or something. It’s called a bestiary. Scott knows more about it than I do.”

“A bestiary?” he repeated.

You nodded. Your shoulders sagged in relief as you realized Matt was too preoccupied with himself to try and touch you again. You weren’t sure what was happening to him, but whatever it was had bought you some time. 

“I need to get that book,” he muttered to himself. “We need to find your brother.”

#teen wolf #teen wolf imagines #selfignitingimagines #stiles stilinski #stiles stilinski imagines #@screamxqueenx94 #tw stalking #tw kidnapping

[selfignitingimagines]

In that case, could I please request one TW ship?

I'm a bisexual girl, so if you wouldn't mind both pairings - with boy and a girl.

When it comes to physical description, I have dyed, vibrantly red hair and blue-grey eyes. People tend to not notice me, given I'm barely 5'1", but if they do such mistake, they are sorry soon enough because what I lack in height I easily make up by attitude.

I usually make being bisexual and short my whole personality, but my God(ess)-complex has enough influence over my behaviour. Out of my other traits, only few are worth mentioning: I'm extremely stubborn, sassy, but loyal to fault. I easily hold grudges (I usually quickly forget those...). Just ideal combination of INTP and Leo with moon Sagittarius and ascendant in Pisces...

I don't usually participate in any kind of physical activity, but I'll make an exception if it involves dancing, horse riding or archery.

Thank you so much! ♥️❤♥️❤

For a boy, I ship you with Theo.

When he first met you, your stubborness and attitude annoyed the hell out of him, but he still found himself drawn to you. Other than Stiles, you were the only person to call him out on his bullshit. He finds it hilarious that your big personality seems to make up for your lack of height.

Theo doesn't know much about horse riding or archery, but he loves to take you out dancing.

For a girl, I would ship you with Erica.

It's a never-ending sass fest between the two of you, but she pushes your buttons in all the right ways. Before she was a werewolf, Erica didn't have as much confidence, so she admires that you have it even without the supernatural abilities.

She loves spending time on you and your passions, but she's not sure about horses. They kind of freak her out if she's being honest, but she does love to dance with you. The two of you are a true power couple.

#teen wolf ships #selfignitingimagines #teen wolf #theo raeken imagines #erica reyes imagines #theo raken

[selfignitingimagines]

Hi there! Can I get a ship please? I'm a pan girl, 5'3" and plus size. I have long brown and blonde ombre hair, blue eyes that occasionally change colors and acne I'm self conscious about. I love to write and make art and hope to make a comic book one day. I dress casual but love to do my hair and makeup. I care for people a lot and put a lot of people before myself so much that I forget about me sometimes. I'm a single mom to a little boy. I love all music and love to cook. I also love animals

I ship you with Derek!

Like you, Derek cares for people and puts others before himself, but that was a skill he had to learn over time. He admires that it comes so naturally to you.

Even though you forget to care for yourself, Derek always makes sure that he has that covered. He loves to do sweet little things like draw you a bath and put on your favorite music, or surprise you with a new dish for dinner.

He's a great father figure to your little boy. While he might have lost his family, he's found a new one with you.

#teen wolf imagines #selfignitingimagines #derek hale imagines #teen wolf ships #teen wolf #@screamxqueenx94

[selfignitingimagines]

Hey guys! I really wish tumblr had a poll feature but it doesn’t, so I’m just going to ask you guys to respond to my question below. Part 3 of Obsessed is ready to post, but it’s pretty long (its like 20 pages oops). Would you guys rather me post it all together in one long post with a read more link? Or in two separate, smaller parts?

Comment below!!!

#selfignitingimagines #stiles stilinski #teen wolf imagines #stiles stilinski imagines

[selfignitingimagines]

Heyy, idk if u still do ship requests but if u do, could u please write one for me?💕 I’m 5’2 and have brown, middle long, curly hair and brown eyes. I think I’m funny, kind and cute and my family is very important to me. I’m also loyal and always there for my friends. I’m from germany and a muslim (but I don’t wear a hijab or smth) :)) 💕💕 Thanks in advice💕

I ship you with Scott!

Scott fell for you because of your loyalty and kindness. Family is just as important to him as it is to you. Because of that, you're a perfect addition the pack. You're the "pack mom" to his "pack dad".

He loves that he has someone to back him up no matter what, and make him laugh when he's at his lowest.

#teen wolf ships #teen wolf imagines #selfignitingimagines #teen wolf #scott mccall imagines #scott mccall