can u do Derek Hale season 6b (the reader is scotts twin
A/N: Hi! I hope you enjoy :) ♥
Warnings: Violence, a
swear or two, and incoming angst. But don’t worry, there’s some cute fluff at
the end, I promise.
We can never seem to catch a
break, you think
came out of nowhere, trucks packed with hunters pulling up to surround you. And
then the shooting started. You all scatter for cover under the overpass, the
sound of the guns cracking like firecrackers in the air. One of the trucks has a
mounted spotlight, shining into the darkness so that you’re easier to see,
structural pillars casting shadows across the expanse underneath the overpass
like prison bars. Fitting, you think
again more cynically, considering they had you trapped like animals. There were
at least seven of them, maybe more, all equipped with heavy duty firepower.
You look for
your friends, and see that Lydia has ducked behind a pillar with her hands
clamped around her ears, next to a beat up blue dumpster which Malia is crouching
behind. Column stone is breaking off around them, puffs of dust hanging in the
air. Your brother, Scott, has found cover at the other end of the underpass from
you, trying to peer out from around a column to assess the situation. But he’s
forced back into hiding by a spray of bullets every time.
catch sight of Deucalion, dragging himself across the pavement for cover as he
bleeds out. You take a steadying breath, crinkling your nose at the strong
scent of blood, and follow Peter, darting across the open space. He ducks
behind a metal barrel, and you manage to throw yourself behind another pillar
across from Lydia and Malia. When there’s a break in the gunfire you drop to
your knees, crawling out from cover to get to Deucalion, pointedly ignoring the
look of admonishment Peter sends you.
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This dude that told me he had a dream about getting me drunk to rape me keeps requesting to follow me on instagram like this is the 3rd time in 2 days and its been 3 YEARS since i talked to you and youre THIRTY TWO!!!!! AND MARRIED?? im TIRED
car trip to Quantico makes me think a lot.
What was life before that night, before Scott became a werewolf? How was Derek
Hale’s first life?
It’s the only thing that comes to mind; I almost don’t remember anything about
my ‘previous life’.
But when Scott had become a werewolf, and I was still human, I had hope: sooner
or later, at least for some of us, things would return to normal. Not for Scott
though. Nothing is more normal for me, my
brother once said. At first, I didn’t understand his words; until, one day, I
became myself a werewolf.
The day when one of Deucalion Alpha - Ennis - bit me.. the most horrible day of
my life. As soon as I knew what was happening to me, I hid myself. I was
afraid; fear for myself. Afraid to say to Scott. The first to find me was
Stiles, but just because I was so stupid to hide in his bathroom.
“Stiles.. please. Don’t tell
Stiles approaches me slowly. He is scared, I feel it. I am also afraid of
myself. He kneels so our eyes meet.
“Scott will find it anyway, Y/n.”
“I know. I want to tell him. But.. I can’t calm down, I can’t
The tears wet my face, and I close my eyes, feeling the irises change color. I
have not yet seen my eyes in the mirror; I don’t have the courage. I try to
hold the tears, but I can’t. I try to breathe regularly, but I can’t. I no
longer have control over myself.
Stiles gets up and leaves the room for a few minutes, leaving me alone. I hear
him talking to someone on the phone - in fact, to argue. After a while, Stiles
is back next to me.
“I called someone who can help you. Everything will be fine.”
The first person I think Stiles called, is Lydia. Second, Allison.
About thirty minutes later, someone rings the doorbell Stilinski. Stiles comes
down to the first floor of the house to open the door. I hear everything now. I
can hear every step, every breath, every beat of his heart.
I cover my ears for nothing to hear, but it’s useless. The steps of Stiles and
the other person is getting closer and closer.
“She’s in the bathroom.”
The door opens slowly and I am breathless when I see in front of me the only
person I never imagined to see.
He approaches and kneels in front of me. I just look at his eyes to calm
myself. And they aren’t even red.
“How are you?” he asks me.
I can’t answer; I would say ‘I’m a sucker, thank you.’ but I’m breathless. Why do
I feel that way? I feel like.. stunned. Maybe that’s because he’s an Alpha.
Derek sighs, and after getting up, he gives me a hand to help me lift. Me and
him go to Stiles’s room, where the latter is waiting. I don’t move away from
Derek, indeed, it almost seems that he is my only salvation at this time.
“So, she’s fine?”
“She’s under shock. I’ll take her home. ”
“You can’t!” screams Stiles, a bit too loud, “Scott is at home,
and she doesn’t want him to see her like this. She must remain hidden for at
least a couple of days.”
“And where do you want me to bring her?”
Derek seems annoyed; I didn’t blame him. It’s been a while since he’s finally
in control of his beta; now, Stiles is asking him to look after me. Real
“I don’t know Derek. But you are the only one who can help her; tomorrow
night there is a full moon, and she was transformed a few hours ago. She didn’t
even have time to understand what is really happening, that tomorrow will lose
I’ve lost control, I think to myself. Why? Why did Deucalion choose me? Why did
he want me to become a werewolf? And he couldn’t choose a better day? Just the
day before the full moon. Suddenly, I remember the first full moon of Scott. I
froze; Derek felt immediately, and turns to me. He looks at me for a few
seconds, and then sighs, once again.
“Okay, I take her to my house.”
Stiles makes a sigh of relief, and he thanked Derek, almost hugging him. He
approaches me, and embraces me, telling me to trust Alpha. But a few days ago,
Stiles wasn’t to say that we shouldn’t trust Derek?
A few minutes later, I’m sitting in Derek’s car; he drives, and I look like a
walking dead. I watch the world out, around us, and it doesn’t look the same
anymore. Yet, the plants are always the same, the sky is always the same. I am
changing. I look at the moon; tomorrow evening will be full. What will happen
Derek stops the car; we are in a place I’ve never seen. It is not the old house
of the Hale in the woods, and it is not the old abandoned station.
I do exactly what he orders me. We enter the structure in front of us, and
after a few ramps of stairs, we enter into a loft.
“Welcome to my home.”
I didn’t know that Derek had a house of his own; probably this doesn’t even
know Stiles, or Scott. That’s why he brought me here, no one knows this place.
Only him, and me.
“You need to rest. The bed is all yours; I will sleep on the couch.”
Derek closes the door behind us as I walk toward the center of the room.
I turn to look into his eyes; he holds a shirt a bit too big for me, but
comfortable enough to sleep.
However, I don’t want to undress; I don’t want to wear the shirt, I don’t have
the strength to do anything. It’s as if I have drained all the energy I had in
my body. Or it is just a psychological problem.
I head to the bed without saying a word. Derek, however, doesn’t seem to be
happy with my gesture; he grabs my wrist and turns violently toward him. I feel
his gaze penetrating into the skin, but I don’t care. At this time, I just want
to close my eyes and reopen them the next day, discovering that in reality all
this is just a dream.
Suddenly, Derek’s hands lay on the button of my jeans. My body froze as he begins
to undress me. He lowers my pants gently, his hands touch my naked and cold
I feel a strange flicker at the stomach at the same time as Derek takes off my
boots and pants. Derek stands up, and our eyes meet; his gaze doesn’t seem to
want to get off mine, when he, clutching the hem of my shirt between his
fingers, pulls it off.
After he has put his shirt, Derek looks at me, then he moves away, going to sit
on the couch. I lie on the bed, where I can see Derek, his gaze fixed on me.
I lie on the back, and I close my eyes, hoping that the next day will be better
than this. …but who am I kidding?
finally getting to Quantico, I park my car, and I head to the FBI headquarters.
Fortunately, I’m a cop; if I had been an ordinary person, I couldn’t even pass
It takes about ten seconds to find Stiles, which means the time to go over the
large glass door of the federal structure. I see him running and hug me,
probably happy to see a familiar face. He is my brother’s best friend since he
was little, and now I consider Stiles as my second little brother.
“So what do you think about this story?” he asks as we walk through
the corridors; there is no time to lose, our first step is the office of the
agent who deals with the case of which Derek is suspected.
“I think Derek doesn’t kill people. And he didn’t kill those werewolves.”
I expect some response from Stiles to defend our friend; instead, he only nods.
I look at him confused, not understanding his strange attitude. I grab him by
the arm, and oblige him to turn to me.
“You don’t think it was him, didn’t you?”
Stiles doesn’t seem to be convinced of his answer, but we don’t have the time
to continue the conversation, one of his professors approaching us, telling
Stiles that his lesson is about to begin.
“Let’s talk about this later. Agent Walker’s office is just around the
corner. Good luck.”
After that, Stiles leaves me alone, to think about the doubts that surely he
has on Derek. Does he really think Derek might have committed mass murder? I
shake my head to eliminate these absurd thoughts from my head, and I prepare
for the conversation I’ll have with an FBI agent.
Just as Stiles had said, I just walk around the corner of the corridor, the
first door I find in front of me is Walker’s. I knock a couple of times, before
I heard someone in the room to tell me to come; After that, Stiles leaves me
alone, to think about the doubts that surely he has on Derek. Does he really
think Derek might have committed mass murder? I shake my head to eliminate
these absurd thoughts from my head, and I prepare for the conversation I’ll
have with an FBI agent. The office is so small that inside there is only a
small desk - full of papers - and a chair where a boy is seated. He is fixed on
some cards in front of him, but when I close the door - a little too strong to
attract attention - he looks up, and his brown eyes meet mine.
“Hi.. you are?”
“Y/n. Deputy of Beacon Hills.”
“What does a deputy do with the FBI?” the agent asks with sarcasm.
Five seconds, ten words, and he’s already annoying me.
“I would like to have information on a case that you are working on.”
He smiles, and without saying anything else, he gets up and approaches the
door, gently opens it. He wants me to leave.
“I’m sorry, they are private information.”
“I have not even told you what the case is.”
“Here at FBI all the cases we deal with are private.”
He invited me again to leave the room, but I don’t give up. I put a hand on the
door, and I slap violently, jumping the boy; he doesn’t seem so authoritarian
as he wants to look like. I approach him threateningly, our faces a few
centimeters away; I feel his heart, it beats so strong that it almost comes out
of his chest. He’s afraid. Good.
“Listen to me, Agent Walker,” I say, looking at the nameplate he
proudly put on his desk, “the case I’m talking about is mass murder. And
one of your prime suspect is a boy of my town. So, in part, this case is also
part of my jurisdiction; instead, you are investigating about him without even
asking the Sheriff of Beacon Hills explanations. You want the case to be yours,
keep it. I just want to read the files on this survey, look for my information,
and then go home.”
He swallows, embarrassed and afraid of the situation; maybe I’m going to
“Ehm.. I couldn’t give it to you..”
I sigh; he’s a tough guy, but I’m more stubborn than him, and I will not leave
this room without the cards I need.
see. Then I think I’ll go talk about it with your superior. Then I’ll have to
tell my superior too, and I think they will be very angry. And finally, I’ll
have to talk to the superior where murder happened… in Brazil, right?”
the door again, and I leave, leaving the agent alone, and hoping that he will
believe in my words, and give it away.
I smile. Screwed.
I turn around, and the boy has been already behind me, with a couple of
dossiers in his hands; he gives them to me, while I know that his hands are
shaking. What a candy-ass, I thought the FBI was badass people.
“Twenty-four hours. Then you’ll have to bring them back.”
I nod, and after greeting him –and thanking him, of course- I leave the office,
waiting for Stiles to return.
takes longer than expected with his lessons, so I decide to go to some bar to
eat something, and start reading the files concerning Derek.
The first thing I look at is the autopsy of the bodies found in Brazil; as
Stiles had said, all of them had claws, and fangs. They were transformed when
someone-or something-killed them, and after that he ripped off their eyes. I
imagine their pain while being tortured and wounded. I didn’t know any of them,
but to see people like me, like Malia, my brother, like this, shape me a
strange anger in the chest; as if they were my brothers.
Perhaps this is what Derek meant, the first time he told Scott that they were
brothers, because they were werewolves. When Derek did the same talk to me, I
started to laugh, perhaps because they were odd words, maybe because I didn’t
want him to be just a brother to me. I shake my head driving away these strange
memories from the mind. I don’t have all the time in the world, there is no
time to remember. I have to find Derek. Perhaps after understanding this story,
he could help me with what’s happening at Beacon Hills. Would he help me? And
what will Braeden think? Are they two still together? I shouldn’t ask myself
these questions; it shouldn’t matter to me. Not anymore.
The bar door opens, and I look up, looking at Stiles coming in and sitting next
to my table. He apologizes for late. I immediately remembered the conversation
between me and him a few hours earlier, interrupted by his professor.
“So, did you find out something by reading these?”
“Do you think he did it?” I ask Stiles, avoiding to answer his
question. He looks up at me, and I already feel his heart beat a little faster.
He swallows, and rubs his hands on his knees; he is nervous.
“Y/n.. I don’t know what happened. I think Derek wouldn’t kill wolves for
“So if he has a reason he would kill them?”
I feel the anger invade my body, but I try to stay calm; I don’t want to scare
Stiles. I don’t want to argue with him, but I want to understand why he has
those doubts about Derek, the one who saved him, me and the others many times.
“I didn’t say this. It seems so much that you feel like it’s not him. What
if it was him?”
“It wasn’t him, Stiles.”
“But if he did, Y/n?”
I look down, looking at the files in front of me, the photographs the FBI
agents did when they found the corpses, the people putting one over each other.
It couldn’t have been him; Derek is not like that.
He is not.. a monster.
“There’s only one way to figure out if it was him. Find him.”
the night, I decide to stay in a motel. Relaxing on the bed, I keep reading the
dossiers; Derek is the main suspect because a man confirms that he has seen him
at the crime scene. This man claims that he and a group of men had found the
corpses, and that after they left, Derek Hale found him. The file doesn’t say anything else. How is it possible? What happened next? I sigh, and tired, I close the file, and put it on the bedside table beside the
bed. Tomorrow I have to return the file to the agent, and I didn’t figure it
out anything to find Derek. I watch my phone; the desire to call Derek is high. Even though he definitely
will not answer, after about five minutes, I pick up the phone, and sitting on
my bed, I type his number. It goes to voicemail. “Hey Derek, I’m.. you know who I am. I need to talk to you, I need to see
you. Strange things are happening in Beacon Hills. And I’m following a survey,
and you’re the main suspect. I know it wasn’t you. I.. I think I know. I hope
you hear the message.”
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one time my mom woke up at 3 am and rolled over to see my dad sitting awake playing that iphone game Ballz because my sister and i were having a competition with him to see who could get the highest score and he completely lost track of time hyperfocusing on this app and if that’s not the most relatable adhd thing you’ve ever heard then i don’t know what is