A/N: i just needed to write out some angst and i love scotty so much so here you go kids.
You gripped the edges of your lunch tray tightly, your fingers turning white as you leaned on your tiptoes; your head in the air as you searched for your small group of friends. The bold red head’s laugh could be recognised in the most crowded place and you smiled when you finally saw her turn around; a wide smile on her face as she laughed at something Stiles had said. Falling back to the base of your feet, you rushed over to them, excited to tell them your idea for your upcoming art project.
Relationship: Derek x Reader
Warnings: mild swearing, cheating
A/N: sorry this took me a bit to post. I got busy with some stuff and didn’t have the time to write. I hope you enjoy it! also, probably my shortest imagine yet. I’m really sorry about that, I’m trying to overcome a bit of writers block, but I hope it’s still decent.
Request: Prompts 20, 43, 70. “I’ve seen the way you look at me when you think I don’t notice.”
“Hey, have you seen the..? Oh.”
Word Count: 695
You grumbled lowly to yourself as you searched through the house. You’d been looking for the tv remote for what felt like hours, but had only been a few minutes. You’d checked everywhere. In the couch cushions, on the table next to the couch, under the couch, in the remote holder - where the remote should have been in the first place. Everywhere you looked, and every time you saw no remote, you fell even deeper into despair.
Deciding to give up on your search tactics, you settled on asking Derek if he’d seen the remote. You knew he was in training, but this episode of Friends was just taunting you to be watched.
You made your way through the loft, into the same room where Derek and the pack always trained.
“Hey Derek. Have you seen the…? Oh.”
When you walked into the room, you’d found Derek and Braeden (who Derek had said was supposed to be Lahey) kissing. You could see his arms on her shoulders, gripping tightly, and her hands were tangled in his hair.
“What the hell? Derek, you said you were training with Isaac today. Not training sucking each others faces off with your ex.”
His mouth opened to say something, but no words came out.
“You better come up with an amazing excuse, Derek. Or you’ll be a sorry, sorry boy.”
“I’m a grown man. I’m not a boy.” He smirked.
“Grown man your ass. You’re acting like a boy, same difference.”
“My ass? Y/N, it’s ‘grown man my ass.’”
You responded with an annoyed eye roll.
“Derek, I just walked in on you kissing another girl while dating me. Now is not the time to be correcting me.”
He purses his lips, thinking about what to say.
“She kissed me. I would never do that to you, Y/N.”
“Oh c'mon Der, you know you wanted it. I’ve seen the way you look at me when you think I don’t notice.” Braeden winked at him from behind, and ran her long lacquered nail down his bicep.
“Are you serious right now? You’re flirting with my boyfriend when I’m standing right here? Back the fuck up, or we’re gonna have some serious problems.”
Derek smirked, chuckling and shaking his head. He took a few steps towards you, stopping once you were just a few inches apart, and leaving a chaste kiss on your forehead.
Even when you were upset with him, you still managed to go to putty underneath his touch. Every little but of physical contact made your heart rate pick up and your knees to go weak.
“That’s my girl.” He rasped, snaking his arms around your waist. “I promise you Y/N, I did not kiss her. You just walked in at the wrong time, and I promise you I was fighting back. She means nothing to me. You’re all I’ve got my eyes out for.”
“Der, come on. We could have so much more fun. You know that I’m so much better at turning you on than she is.”
Derek stepped away from you slowly, before racing over to Braeden. His hand found its way around her throat, gripping tightly.
“Braeden, get the hell out of my house, before I make you. And don’t come back.”
Her eyes went wide, and she jutted out her bottom lip in a god-awful pout. Before she could open her mouth to say something else, Derek shouted another demand in her face, his words booming off the walls of the loft.
She scurried out of the room after that, leaving the house as fast as she possibly could. Derek ran back over to you, his hands tangling in your hair as he pulled you into a passionate kiss.
Today I went out to eat with some new friends. At first I was so excited and feeling like, girl you got this. And then I checked in with myself and noticed some apprehension. They I sat down to eat and I got nervous.
I immediately took noticed of how much food was on everyone’s plate. I also panicked when I saw that everyone finished before me.
And I wanted to put a napkin over the rest of what was left on my plate, to signal to myself that I no longer “have” to eat. And I also to signal to people that I finished.
But I ate every last bite at that table with three other people present. I leaned on them for support and I enjoyed myself.
I was absolutely unaware of what I was eating, I was not in the present moment. I was present for the experience and conversation but not of what I was eating.
And you know, I just realized, this was my first restaurant outing with friends since I’ve been out of treatment! I am so fucking proud of myself!
Enjoy recovery guys; there are lot’s of downs but these victories are worth it!
I’ve been really sick lately! Still fighting a nasty virus. JUST GO AWAY ALREADY! Anyway, here’s something that I’ve managed to work on despite the flu. It was hard working with dark colours, but I think the neon green works well to create a nice contrast!
PSA: i have some anons in my inbox right now who are not too happy that i use trigger warnings. however, trigger warnings, in my eyes, are a necessity. it’s not my place to judge what anyone else has been through, and if writing a simple “tw” in the tags of my replies or posts can help a person get through their day easier, you bet i’m going to do it. i don’t know what others have been through, and so tagging common triggers on my posts, again, is necessary in my eyes. i will never stop tagging things because saving someone the pain from seeing or reading something that could push them over the edge again is more important than the ‘inconvenience’ (which, by the way, there really isn’t one) of sifting through tags. if you have a tw i’m not currently tagging but would like me to tag, please never hesitate to contact me. i’d expect the same in return for those who write with me. thank you.
“Trust your gut.” But I can’t. I can’t trust myself in any manner, because today I might not be who I really am, whoever that is. What if this is a manic whim that will pass in the morning. What if when I kiss him I’m just using him as another brick wall to slam my body against. What if my gut says slam the accelerator, don’t bother trying, shoot yourself in the foot. What if I get fear for no reason, anxiety in the sixth floor bathroom, what if my gut says stay home but my heart says go. What if my gut says check the lock again, and again, and again, and again, and, what if my gut says seven is good but did you count it right. what if my gut says leave the party nobody wants you here, what if my gut says why did you leave now everybody thinks you’re weird. What if I get a bad feeling about everyone because one person once opened me up and sewed all their bad into my pockets, what if I go with my gut and overshare a lot and leave awkward silences that stretch in wet muslin bandages over pity-frowns, what if my gut says give in and my gut says I’m worth nothing and my gut says give up. What if you’re right and I’ve been ignoring signs that keep coming and I belong in a box somewhere, un-becoming.
My mom asks me what I want. Where I want to be. I wish I knew how to want things. I wish I had one feeling I knew wasn’t just a rush or a spiral or a warning sign. Something I knew was pure. Something actually mine.