dilapidated houses

kristsune  asked:

sterek spy au pretty please!? :D

This basically gave me an excuse to write a ficlet set in the same ‘Verse as LYAD. It’s not particularly spy-ish, but the idea wouldn’t leave me alone.

So, some time in the nebulous future after the events of Lay Your Armour Down…

*

Derek gets off the plane and the first thing he does is veer violently to one side – his phone’s alerting him to a voicemail. He curses the flight stewardess who’d glared at him until he’d switched it off, curses the agency for sending him economy in the cheapest flight they could find instead of on one that would allow him to use his phone.

“Hey, honey,” Stiles begins the message - he’s using an accent and a burner phone, but Derek knows it’s him. “I know you reminded me not to, but I think I left the oven on. I’m sorry. I love you.”

Derek goes cold. Stiles would never risk calling Derek’s personal number unless it was an emergency, and the fact Stiles used the ridiculous code name they’d joked about – Honey – but never actually used (Stiles had found the prospect of pet names as code names hilarious), added to Stiles apologising and nattering on about a conversation they’d never had, well, it all adds up to one thing: Stiles is in trouble.

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;a fragment (m)

pairing— kim seokjin x reader, warlock! seokjin
genre/warnings— supernatural, smut, some type of fluff, angst, fantasy 
words  22,361

:: summary— Who’s the mysterious guy that’s just appeared in your life and plagued your dreams? He’s been showing up ever since your “friends” convinced you to do a ouija board in the old, creepy house that looks over your town. Your brain tells you to be afraid of him, but your heart tells you something different… Why aren’t you scared of him? You’re intrigued by the handsome stranger, and you want to get to know him better…even if it proves fatal…or eternal

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Prompt Fic: Shades of Future Past (Zimbits)


I’ve not posted anything original before, and I’ve never written fan fiction.  But I saw the below prompt posted by a friend (original prompt source), and this outline just begged to be written.  Of course, it just kept getting longer and longer.  I’ve left it in outline form, as I truly don’t have the skills to turn it into the monster it threatens to be.

Prompt:

Cleaning out your grandfather’s house after his death you’re going through boxes in his attic when you come across a box of photo albums labeled with your name.

You smile and begin to flip through them. Your smile fades, you don’t recognize many of the people. That is when you realize the dates are from ten to fifteen years into the future.



After the overdose and rehab, Jack returns to his parents’ house in Montreal.  He hasn’t lived there for more than a few months since his first billeting for Midgets years earlier.

He has no idea what he will do with his life.  Hockey is all he knows.

He starts seeing Dr. Turgeon twice a week. He doesn’t say much at first, but an anxiety attack in his 5th week of visits starts their discussions.  He does not talk about hockey or his father. He does talk about how alone he feels. He doesn’t talk about his lack of a future. He doesn’t talk about sex, or whatever that was with Kent.

Bob tries to get him to come to meetings with him (keeping him in view for when he’s ready to return to hockey), but Jack can’t see that far ahead.

Seven months in, one of his Peewee coaches contacts him about coaching some of the kids at his old rink.  He says he’ll think it over.

On his next therapy visit, he brings up hockey for the first time.

Jack’s grandfather died a year after the overdose.

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Some Things Don’t Stay Buried


Pennywise x Reader (Drabble)


Request by Anon: Hi, can you please do a fanfic or HC about walking with Penny in public. Suddenly he smells the reader’s fear (which is the 1st time) and u notice it’s cuz a guy is walking by. U realize it is an abusive ex of hers. He comforts her and unleashes hell on him.


-


It was a typical day as you walked down the streets of Derry with Pennywise following beside you, most people couldn’t see him unless they allowed him to. But this time, he decided to take on a human form as he walked out in public with you. His human form was an absolutely gorgeous, statuesque man with blue eyes. You loved it when he took on this form, but you had grown to love him for what he was.


You made you way down one of the main streets to the Neibolt house. Sometimes you would just go there with Penny and to down time with him, or to just try and fix the place up. Obviously, he could care less if the place was a wreck, but you had convinced him that you wanted to make the place more take on more of a “home”. He had finally agreed and said that someone had referred to it as a “crackhead house”, which sent you into a bout of laughter after he told you.


There wasn’t much said on the way there, neither one of you had much to say, and Penny wasn’t the biggest talker after all. As you continued down the sidewalk, you could see approaching in the opposite direction. Your eyes squinted automatically at the familiar silhouette as it free nearer. “No. It can’t be..” You thought to yourself as your pace slowed down. Penny looked over at you curious with a raised eyebrow. You swallowed hard as the man walking up on you turned out to be who you thought it was. It was your ex. For the first time since you broke up, you felt the fear and anxiety of seeing him. Of course Penny sensed this right away, and he knew something was very wrong, because you had never even shown fear when it came to him.


“(Y/N).” He growled. But you were too lost I your own head. As you ex made he way past you, he turned his head, obviously recognising you. You locked eyes with eachother as he walked in past you, a slight smirk peeking through. Once he finally passed by, you felt yourself being dragged out of your trance by Pennywise’s voice. Your hands were shaking, balling themselves into fists. “Who.. Was that?” He asked.


You glanced up at him, your heart still racing in your chest. You knew that you had to tell him, but not here. “Let’s just get to the house.. I’ll explain.”


He narrowed his eyes at you, reluctant to let it go long enough to get to the house, but he knew as well as you did that a public place wasn’t a time for him to get stubborn and throw a tantrum. He followed along beside you silently the rest of the way until you rounded the corner where the old, dilapidated house sat. Before you even made it near the fence, he was already shifting back into his regular self.


Once inside, the door slammed begin you. He quietly stood in front of you, his eyes orange in anger. He blocked your path, not letting you by. “We’re here now.” He said matter-of-factly.


You sighed. “Why do I need to tell you this?”


“I could smell the fear on you.. For the first time. Why are you afraid of that one.” He glared down at you as if he was disappointed that he wasn’t the one to entice you to get scared.


You chewed your lip. “He used to be my boyfriend.. He someone who used to be a companion to me.. Kinda like me and you are now, I guess.”


“But you’re mine.” He growled, leaning down to you.


“I am. This is before any of this.” You said, gesturing to him and to the house you stood in.


His nose crinkled in frustration as he looked at you. “Why are you afraid of him?”


Your mouth tugged down into a frown as you brushed a hand through your hair. Your hand ran over a scar on the side of your neck as you closed your eyes tightly gathering the courts to speak. “He hurt me.”


Pennywise’s head jerked back, his eyes glowing even brighter now. “Hurt you?” He said in a guttural time.


You nodded slowly. “He’d hit me, a lot. My face would be messed up most of the time. He tried to kill me once..” You said lifting your hair up to show him the scar on your neck, “See. He tried to cut my throat.”


You could feel his finger running over the scar, and a deadly growl resonating from him as he did so. You turned to look back at him. His face was angered beyond what you’d ever seen from him. He placed his hand on your head and pulled you closer to him. He wasn’t well versed in affection, but he was starting to learn enough to know that this was a time to show it. He lowered his body enough so that he could place his head against yours, and licking your cheek, which was always his version of a kiss. “I’ll always protect you.” He said.


×


You were awoken out of a deep sleep the next morning by Penny poking you in the face with one of his claws that has ripped through his glove. Apparently, he was busy while you were asleep. You sat up, squitong and trying to adjust your vision to the room. You were laying on a mattress that you had brought to the Neibolt house previously and it came in handy in times like they when you fell asleep there. Penny was bouncing excitedly, his bells jingling each time he moved.


“What is it?” You yawned, unamused by how early he had woken you.


“I have things to show you.” He gave you a wide grin, nodding his head.


“Oh, if its your skill collection-”


He hissed, cutting you off mid-sentence. He shook his head, his fangs poking our for between his lips. “No.”


You shrugged, “What then?”


He grumbled, rolling his eyes as he grabbed you up by your waist and threw you over his shoulder. “Penny! What are you doing?”


He didn’t answer, he only made his way downstairs towards the basement where the well, and entrance to the sewer was. What the hell was he up to? Once he made it to the well, he quickly jumped down it, making you scream. You could hear his laughter and delight as you did so. You always hated it when he did that. He always landed perfectly though, and this time was no different. He sat you back down onto your feet. “Okay. What is so important?”


He smiled, the drool beginning to drop down his chin. “Just wait.” He said staring off into one of the sewer tunnels. You looked into the direction that he was staring, but you didn’t see anything. “What are we waiti-” you stopped as you noticed that Penny had completely disappeared.


“Shit..” You muttered. You first guess was he eas just messinng with you. “Penny!” You called out, walking forward through the tunnel he was looking into. “C'mon! This isn’t funny.” You sighed, you clung towards the wall because of how dark it was. After a few minutes, you finally saw some light coming through the end of one as another cavern of the sewer was opened up. But you were alone.

As you free closer, you could hear cries for help. “What the hell is going on?” You said to yourself as you walked into the cavern. You squinted as to saw somebody walking around in there, a man. The faint light that was in there not helping your vision much.


You decided to do the decent thing and try to help him out of here. “HELP!” The man cries seemed more panicked than they did before as he wandered around in the darkness.


“Hey,, you’re gonna wanna get out out here.” You said walk in up on the man. He jumped upon hearing another voice, he turns towards you and you gasped it horror. It was your ex again. You backed up quickly out of the way. If this was Penny playing some sick joke, you’d never talk to go again.


“(Y/N)? You bitch.” He growled, trudging his way through the way towards you. “You. You brought me here, didn’t you?”


You shook your head. “What the fuck? No!”


“I should have finished you when I had the chance.” He said bluntly. You tried you best to run through the water away from him, but there was too much and you slipped, falling to your knees in the water, giving him a chance to catch up to you. “But I guess it’s better late them never.” He said, holding you down with his foot. He reached down to wrap his hands around your neck squeezing and determined to snap you neck. You locked and began to scream, but he was too. “Fuck you!” You coughed out. Just as he was ready to crush your windpipe, figure came up, lifting him off the ground, forcing him to release you neck. He was slammed back down into the water, giving you time to move out of the way.


Pennywise towered above you, and you let out a breathe or relief to see him. He turned back towards your ex, who was now the one trying to scramble out of the way. “WHAT THE FUCK! WHAT THE FUCK!” He bellowed over and over as he saw the clown standing over him.


Pennywise smirked as he walked slowly beside him. “Tut, tut, tut.” He clicked his tongue against his teeth in disappointment, “I thought you were supposed to be scary, human.”


“WHAT THE FUCK! (Y/N), HELP ME! PLEASE!” He screamed at you.


You stood up out of the water, backing away. “Fuck you, asshole!” You hissed.


Pennywise yanked him up over his head with ease. He gave him a fang-filled smirk. “Time to float.” He said cheerfully before being him down closer, his gang making contact with his jugular vein. You could hear the girgling and choking of him as Penny bit down into his neck, ripping out a giant chunk of flesh.


You gasped at the sight of it as the blood sprayed out all over Pennywise and into the water, staining it red. Your breath in became hard, you ha never seen Pennywise when he was ravenous and it really was scary. He turned towards you, the blood was soaked into his collar and smeared across his face. He took a few steps towards you, making you cower down, worried that he was going to grab onto you. You cried out when his hand wrapped around your arm, pulling you towards him.

You breathed hard as you were helpless to stop him, you closed your eyes tight, preparing yourself for him to do you just like he had done your ex.


You waited for what seemed like years, but there were no sharp teeth, there was no biting into your neck. Instead, you felt the warmth of his body as he pulled you into him, embracing you.


You cracked your eyess open as you looked up at him. Your heart rate finally settling.


“I told you I’d protect you.”

Catch a Falling Star

Characters: CastielXReader

Word Count: 1832 (Part I)

A/N: Part I of a Soulmate AU mini-series, or as I have come to fondly refer to it, the 1K Follower Celebration request by @trexrambling with prompts for hurt/comfort, protectiveness, and reunion inspired by TKG poem #4 that outlined better for me as a series than a stand-alone drabble.

Summary: What if angels didn’t end up just anywhere when they are banished by sigils…what if sometimes they end up exactly where they need to be? Turns out you are Castiel’s grounding stone, and it’s more complicated than either of you realizes. Sparks fly when you meet a mysterious blue-eyed stranger in the most unexpected of places.

Few sensations exist in creation more unpleasant than the vision blurring stomach churning skin chaffing whirlwind spin of an angel’s vessel hurtling uncontrollably through physical space upon being banished by means of blood sigil. Few sensations, that is, save for the fireball crash landing which invariably follows such expulsions. There are archived plans for a Coney Island roller coaster gradually disintegrating in a drawer at the New York City Public Library which, if the project reached fruition, might have come close to replicating the experience. However, engineers could never work out adequate safety measures to protect the rocketing passengers from being jettisoned into oblivion at the kinetic peaks.

Castiel, like most vessel-bound wavelengths of celestial intent in his current predicament, hadn’t expected to find himself the equivalent of an angelic slingshot just now. Unfortunately, and also fortunately for him, the sensation was not entirely unfamiliar and he knew panicking would accomplish nothing. Practice taught him that accepting fate and relaxing usually made for a slightly softer landing.

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Mafia!Jungkook Imagine Pt.3

 

Summary:

Imagine your a police officer trying to arrest a mafia boss… A quite special one. In the end, nothing goes like planned… And suddenly he’s your boss.

 Genre:

Mafia!Au, and a little bit of everything?

Part 1// Part 2// Part 3// Part 4


The brown haired guy stood up and slowly walked to the door. You shuddered,  finally noticing how cold it actually was. You tried not to think of anything. You tried not to think about how your life as a sniper would be. Suddenly, you saw that the Mafia guy had turned around and was looking at you with a strange expression. Now you where the one raising one eyebrow.

“Ah, and (Y/N)… I’m not supposed to tell you, but… As soon as I leave this room and tell my boss about your decision, the bomb in your parents house will be activated.”

You felt your heart drop as your eyes grew wide in shock. He walked on, grabbed the doorknob and opened the door…

NO.

“Wait. WAIT!!!”, you screamed in panic.

The guy turned around, smiling in triumph.

“Welcome to the Mafia, (Y/N). I’m Jungkook and I’ll be your teacher for the next months.”

       ~~~    

The next thing you knew, you woke up in a quite normal, clean room. No weapons, no dangerous looking people, and- at least seemingly- no cameras. Not that you expected all those things, but you had to make sure. You didn’t remember how you got here, maybe they used drugs… In the end you probably didn’t even wanna know. There was nothing you could do- Besides then waiting for someone to get you out. And it wasn’t going to be the police, even if you hoped so. You stood up and walked up and down in the small room. Maybe it was like a hostel room or something, they wouldn’t bring you to an actual Mafia building, would  they? In the end you still were an police officer! You searched the room for anything suspicious, or at least a hint, but you couldn’t find anything. Just an average hostel room. Without a phone, of course. That would’ve been way to easy. 

You thought about Jungkook and his words. Teaching you? What the hell was he going to teach you? You already knew how to handle a pistol and you weren't going to let him teach you how to kill people. Definietly not. You sighed. It’s not like you were actually going to be a part of the mafia… Right? Hopefully you would know soon. Right now there were way to much questions flying around in your head. But even more importantly, you had to find a way to escape.

Suddenly, without any warning, the door swung open with a loud bang. You jumped. What the hell!? Didn’t that person know how to knock? Did they come to hurt you?  You turned around,a little bit scared but also curious about the person. You somehow expected Jungkook to be standing there, but that wasn’t the case. In fact, a blonde, young girl was standing in the doorframe. She seemed way to young for the mafia, not even the tons of dark make up would hide that. But there was something about her that seemed strange-  like, really out of place. She was smiling widely. She didn’t seem dangerous at all, not like someone who’d kill people. More like… a bunny? Before you could say anything, she spoke up.

“Hey there, I’m Lisa. So your the newbie? I’m kinda new too!”, she said, still grinning. You didn’t know why, but she seemed quite nice. You couldn’t help it, you instantly liked her. You stared at her until you realized she was probably expecting an answer. 

“Yeah, I guess? I don’t really know…”, you answered, shrugging your shoulders.

Lisa just kept on smiling. She probably knew everything about you anyways. At least she seemed to know why you were here.

“So, (Y/N)! Jungkook told me to get you. Your lesson is going to start soon. But, If I’m honest…”, she said while eyeing you up and down,  “You can’t go like this. I’ll give you better clothes.”

With that, she simply walked to the closet, leaving you perplexed. You hadn't even checked the closet yet, thinking about it. She took out a black, tight jeans and a black tank top. Without saying anything she gave you the clothes. Then, she motioned you to change. However, Lisa didn’t turn around. She was just standing there, looking at you with a more and more confused expression. Would she be, like… watching you? That was quite strange. You didn’t even know her.

“What are you waiting for? Jungkook’s waiting. Can’t say he likes to wait.”, Lisa said with furrowed eyebrows.

“Can you just turn around?”, you asked awkwardly.

Lisa laughed quietly, making her nose crincle a little bit. She was getting kind of strange. But what did you expect? This wasn’t just some random hotel and she wasn’t just some random girl.

“I mean, sure, I can! But the two of us will be getting pretty close. There’s simply no other way. So why don’t why start right now?”.

Luckily, she turned around anyways and you  quickly changed your clothes, checking them for anything strange before wiggling into them. You were happy to finally have fresh clothes, you definietly didn’t expect to get some. They were quite tight, but that was probably normal, looking at Lisas outfit.

“I’m ready, Lisa… So, what now?”.

Lisa just nodded and took your hand, pulling you out of the room. You didn’t make the effort to close it, there wasn’t anything in there anyways.

She leaded you trough a row of lonely corridors. You were actually in a small hotel, but it appeared to be abandoned. The wallpaper was already removed from some parts of the wall and the carpets were stiff from dirt. Great. That wasn’t helping you at all. You couldn’t remember any abandoned building in your city. At least you knew it was evening, since the sun was just going down and the last golden sunbeams were drawing flickering patterns on the floor. If your heart wouldn’t pound like crazy, maybe it would’ve been pretty. But in the end you were being kidnapped and some strange mafia guy was probably trying to make you kill people. You weren’t looking forward to meeting him at all. Yes, maybe you should just try and run from Lisa. But she really seemed to know this building, there was no way you could escape right now. Maybe you should try and get her to trust you. Maybe she could help you out.

After what felt like an eternity, Lisa and you entered a big hallway. At least it was big compared to your room. The dark red carpet here looked way cleaner than in the rest of the hotel and warm, yellow light from some plastic candlesticks made the room appear somewhere near cozy. You heart was still pounding. It was so loud, there was no way Lisa wouldn’t here it. She turned around to you and pointed at a big wooden door.

“This way. This room once was the dining hall, now rookies get trained there. Jungkooks waiting. I think he’s alone, the others are already outside or in their rooms. Just in case you need me, my room is number 233. You’ll… find that somehow I guess. Bye, (Y/N). Good luck.”

You quickly nodded, and before you could ask anything or say thank you, she ran off. Amazing. Now you truly were alone. But you were quite sure running away made no sense. Especially since they didn’t make a big deal out of the black cameras that were installed everywhere.You would’ve no chance. And with that, there was only one option left.

Go trough that door. Face your kidnapper. And let him teach you god knows what.

     ~~~

The door was quite heavy, but you were able to open it. You closed it behind you, trying to be as quite as possible. You didn’t want to to get more attention than necessary. You looked around the big room. It was painted white and the floor was made out of dark wood, but the walls seemed to be isolated with a soundproofing material. God, you never knew the mafia was that advanced. The police didn’t even know half of the truth. They actually thought, the mafia was only hanging around in dilapidated, old houses near the city. That’s what you used to believe. But in fact, they were training rookies in proffessional soundproof rooms. Nobody would believe you, even if you told them!

Besides a few chairs at the side of the room, it was completely empty. No tables, no sofas, nothing. It didn’t seem like a place to learn shooting. And you couldn’t spot any blood on the walls. You had to check, just in case. Maybe you were a little scared too. Who wouldn’t be? The scariest thing was, that the room was completely lonely. No people. Especially no Jungkook, even though he was supposed to be here. You stepped further into the hall. Where would he be? He couldn’t hide in here. Should you go and search for Lisa? Or try to run away?

“GOT you. Watch out, cop girl. Your potentially dead now.”

You couldn’t restrain a high pitched scream as a cold hand landed on your shoulder. You spun around and jumped away, just out of reflex. Now your heart was truly going wild. Where the hell had he come from?

“Jungkook. Damn, can’t you announce yourself like a normal human being?”, you asked, still a little bit out of breath from the shock. He just watched you with an amused expression. His hair was messy, and instead of the suit he was wearing at the bar, he was know wearing black sweatpants and a white shirt. You had to admit he wasn’t even that intimidating, and he was actually really handsome. He looked like a normal young adult. You just wished you could punch that evil smile out of his face.

“Where did you even come from? Did you stick on the ceiling?”, you asked, trying to hide the fear that was still lingering in your bones.

The smile on his face grew even wider.

“Maybe. So, (Y/N). I see you already grew some confidence. But for the next few hours, you better just forget about your funny little attitude. Your head needs to be free from thoughts, you need to concentrate.”

You silently scoffed.  Was he actually telling you to not be confident?  Not like you were in the beginning. You just acted like it.

“What if I don’t?”. You didn’t even know  where those sassy words came from. They just came to your head. Considering the situation you were in you should’ve probably stayed silent. Maybe it was because you hated to be bossed around. Maybe because you were scared for what was to come.

But Jungkook wasn’t really angry, he just shrugged his shoulders.

“Not my choice. May hurt a little bit though, sweetie.”

Oh god. What in the world was he planning to do? You didn’t want to concentrate, right now you just wanted to get out. And get away from him. You took a step back. Jungkook just came even closer and started talking.

“As you already know, your training as a part of the mafia starts now. And since I’m not dumb enough to give you a weapon, we’ll start with physical training. You need to be prepared for everything, even as a sniper. Well, I just don’t know how advanced you are. So shall we just start and test that? It’s easy. Just try not to get hit.”

You gulped. Was he joking? Physical Training? Like, punching and kicking and stuff? You eyed his arm muscles. Jesus. There was no way  you would even last 5 seconds fighting against him. Your eyes grew wide as he slowly came closer. He wasn’t joking at all. You didn’t need to think about your next step. There was only one way for you. Ignoring the fact that you were really making a fool out of yourself, you just tried to run away to the other side of the room. He may be strong, but was he faster than you?

“Oh come on, that’s not fair. Don’t act like a scared bunny.”

The next thing you knew, he had thrown you over his shoulder. Damn. He WAS faster than you.

“What the hell are you two doing? Play tagging? Can I play along?”.

The sudden deep voice startled you and you wiggled yourself out of Jungkooks sharp grip. A young man was standing about 5 metres from you, holding a file. Big glasses were laying on his nose. He looked like a scientist. A big, boxy smile made him look really cute.

“No, Taehyung… I told you I have to train her. What are you even doing here, aren’t you supposed to mix drugs or stuff?”

Originally posted by nnochu


Originally posted by sweaterpawsjimin


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“Don’t Objectify Me” (Dean x Reader)

The first of two for tonight and then I’ve got to study for my finals tomorrow. 

Happy Reading!

Words: 1971

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Warnings: Excessive cuteness

Excerpt:  He huffed again but stayed silent.  The three of you, with the help of Cas back at the bunker, were investigating a string of homicides in Oklahoma.  Three people had been killed inside of a week, but that hadn’t even been the strangest part.  The bodies hadn’t just been mutilated, they’d been practically decimated.  Their chests had been ripped open and their lungs had been removed.  It was positively gruesome.

Forever Tags: @fairchild21

Tagging: @beccaanne814-blog

Originally posted by petuniakestrel

You paced back and forth waiting for Dean to come out of the house of one of the victims.  Of course, you couldn’t go in with him—you were the watchdog. You were always the watchdog.  Dean was always the one putting himself in the line of fire, and you were always just…watching.

“Easy kid,” Dean said, coming up behind you.  “You’re gonna wear a hole in the concrete.”

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Novocaine-Chapter 14

Summary: Shadow attempts to track Cas, but something unexpected happens

Pairings: Bucky x Reader, Dean x Reader, Cas x Reader, Sam x Reader

Warnings: None.

Word count: 1039

You stretch out your mind following the pull of Cas’s grace. It was a faint trail, nothing more than a wisp but it was there. You weren’t a supernatural creature, warding and sigils had no effect on you. It blurred the edges of the person in question, but you could quite quickly pinpoint a location.

Except now. You had no idea how Cas had managed it, but you kept hitting the same wall. A creature far more powerful than you had ever encountered had to be shielding him because you couldn’t even get a read on Kelly. Insanely frustrated, you reach out your arms, sparks of electricity shooting from your fingertips, testing the limits of your psychic abilities.

Slowly, a picture starts to form. An abandoned house in the middle of nowhere. Hues of brown and orange surround it, encompassed by a faint blue glow, growing in intensity as the picture clears. A beautiful brown haired woman steps out of the dilapidated house, large brown eyes set in an oval face. Her caramel skin glows faintly.

Your head begins to pound, the edges of the scene tinging red. Panic bubbles as you realize there’s someone piggybacking in your mind. You struggle to push them out as maniacal laughter sounds in your head.

The pregnant woman’s eyes snap to yours, fear set in them. You can hear shouting, distant and afraid. Dean’s voice you think. Hands pull at you but are repelled instantly as the electricity dancing across your skin shocks them away.

You concentrate your power on the intruder, desperately attempting to shove them from your mind. The evil, the malice this entity exudes is near suffocating, and you wonder why it feels so familiar like you have come across it before in a dark alley. A distant chamber, flashes of chains and screaming are implanted into your head, skin being flayed from bone, gasps, and moans of pain, burning flesh and bubbling sinew, and you swallow down a scream as the pain threatens to overwhelm you.

The blue light becomes brighter, the red recoiling as it touches. The pressure in your head lessening as light overcomes dark, the anger dissipating as the blue fills your vision.

This is not the end, pet. A voice like daggers whispers in your mind before you’re shoved out of the vision. A pained yell escapes your throat as you’re thrown bodily across the room, landing in a crumpled heap on the floor having hit the opposite wall with bruising force. Groaning loudly you crack open an eye to find Dean’s worried face peering down at you.

“Are you hurt?” he snaps, grabbing you by the arm and hauling you to your feet, inspecting you from head to toe, hands roaming your body seeking any signs of injury. “(Y/N) are you hurt?!” he demands, tipping your chin to look at him.

Sam peers over his brother’s shoulder, his face pinched into a worried frown.

“Fine, I’m fine,” you gasp, swatting Dean’s hands away from your face. “I think we have a bigger problem than me getting my bell rung, boys,” you quip.

Dean stops his fussing, staring you down, his face morphing into a hardened hunter in what feels like an instant.

“I had a piggy backer in my head,” you explain. Dean’s face is blank, Sam’s masked in confusion, sighing loudly, you move toward the couch, taking a seat and dropping your head backward, screwing your eyes shut tightly. “Sending out power like mine, it’s like a signal, a beacon instantly recognizable if you know what you’re looking for, and a skilled person could hop onto it, see what I see, feel what I feel, like an amplified radio station. One could even manipulate what I see if they had the power,” you explain.

Dean nods his head, dropping his head into his hands while Sam cocks his head to the side, processing the information like only Sam can.

“So what you’re saying is, someone, hopped the signal and came along for the ride?” Sam asks.

“Exactly, and I’m afraid it wasn’t friendly,” your eyes trained on Dean, he lifts his head, rubbing his lips with a finger.

“How much did it see?” he asks quietly.

You swallow thickly, knowing Dean might fly off the handle with your next words. “Everything. It saw everything,” you reply tightly.

Dean groans out loud, and Sam raises a hand, his eyes snapping to yours.

“What did you see, Shadow?” Sam barks, his voice demanding, businesslike, no hint of Sammy left, only the trained hunter, the one that had seen hell and survived it, the one who had spent time with Lucifer in the cage, who watched his fiance burn.

Your boys, they had lived through so much, seen so much. Dean, who had survived purgatory, been to hell, died countless times, watched everyone he loved die, including Sammy, who drowned himself in whiskey and junk food. Yet they still went on, still fought the good fight, trying to rid the world of its evil, receiving no thanks and no breaks for their troubles. Your boys who deserved more than this.

“I’m sorry,” you begin, “I tried to push it out, but I couldn’t. It was too strong. I didn’t have enough power,” you babble.

Dean stands and strides toward you plopping himself next to you on the couch and drawing you to him. “It’s not your fault, sweetheart, just tell us what you know,” he says soothingly.

You snuggle closer to him, placing a quick kiss on his chest. “I know where they are, exactly, I know how to get there, but we don’t have much time. The thing saw it, too. I’m afraid it might get there before us.” You tense at the realization.

Dean’s hand tangles in your hair. It never failed to soothe you. “No, it won’t, sweetheart,” Dean says fiercely, nodding discreetly at Sam who rises to begin the packing.

Strangely, you believe him. It was Dean after all. He always found a way to kill the thing, save the world, and protect people. It was the family business after all.

You had no reason to doubt his word. You only hoped you would all come out of this unscathed.

Tag List: under the cut

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Something Other Than Remaining. 1253w

I posted the second half of this a while back and just found the rest in my drafts folder. I had already written the first half but didn’t post it for some reason (I think maybe I wasn’t confident in it? But rereading it now, it’s not quite as bad as I remember it?) So here, have the rest!

This all started when I was wondering “What if only born werewolves have mates?”

Title taken from the Hammock track of the same name.



“Why didn’t you tell me mates were a thing?”

Stiles watches Derek roll his eyes at Scott’s question as he continues to sift through the debris in what used to be the kitchen of the burnt out Hale house.

What’s he looking for? Bones? Stiles can’t imagine what else he might be expecting to find. He tries not to shiver or look too closely at what he might be standing on.

“Because you don’t have one,” Derek answers flatly when he realises speaking will get them to leave quicker than silence.

“Why not?” Scott asks, indignant.

“You’re not a born werewolf.”

Scott cocks his head. “That doesn’t sound fair.”

“You’d rather your choice was taken away?” Derek snaps, looking up at Scott for the first time since they arrived.

“Why, aren’t you satisfied with yours?” Stiles crows.

All Derek does is scowl at him.

But after that, Stiles can’t stop thinking about who Derek’s mate could be. He hadn’t denied that he’d already found them, and for a moment, Stiles entertains the idea of it being Finstock, the real reason Derek came back to town. He sniggers for a good few minutes about that.

When he’s done, he rolls onto his back and blinks up at the ceiling through the darkness.

Derek had said there was a pull to be with them, to protect them, so Stiles must have seen him with them at some point. But the only person he can think of is that one time he spotted Derek paying for gas and giving the woman behind the counter a very nearly almost smile. Other than that, he’s always showing up at the school being a creeper watching Scott, and Stiles can’t decide if that’s more shudder-worthy than the Finstock theory.

If a mate is supposed to be a born werewolf’s other half, there must be a reason the thought of them gives him such a sour look, beyond having no ability to choose. Like always pushing his buttons. Or being an embarrassment. Or underage. And maybe with a relative in law enforcement.

Stiles lifts his head off the pillow and stares wide-eyed into the darkness. But only for a second before he drops back down with a snort.

There’s absolutely no way.

Except, now the thought has crossed his mind and been discarded, there’s a strange weight pushing down on his chest.

He pictures Derek tossing and turning in that derelict house in the woods, all walls and no roof, alone but surrounded by ghosts.

The weight begins to ache and he flips over, burying his face in his pillow with a groan. He’d wanted to make a discovery about Derek, not himself! That’s what he gets for sticking his nose where it doesn’t belong.

Or maybe does belong?

He pulls the covers over his head. It’s going to be a long night.

*

After that, he can’t stop reading into everything. Like why Derek climbs in through his window when he needs help instead of going to Scott, or when research needs to be done instead of going to Deaton. Stiles knows Scott’s not much better than a puppy and the vet’s cryptic as all get out, but surely that’s better than the fragile human teenager who has no idea what he’s doing?

And why does Derek start catching a ride with him when shit goes down instead of taking his own? Stiles doesn’t argue and tells himself it’s because Derek was willing to rip his throat out with his teeth when half-dead on wolfsbane, so at full strength he’d have no chance of survival. Not because he kind of likes being in a private, enclosed space with him.

One night, when Stiles is dropping Derek off at the Hale house after another close run-in with Kate Argent and her pesky wolfsbane bullets, he can’t contain his curiosity any longer.

“Hey,” Stiles says and Derek pauses with one hand on the car door handle, turning back to look at him with impatient eyebrows. Stiles has never really been one for mincing words, and he doesn’t start now. “Am I your mate?”

Derek stares at him, a brief parting of his lips the only sign he was caught off-guard, and when he finally speaks it’s accompanied by a low warning growl. “Go home, Stiles.”

The door slams shut and Derek disappears into the darkness using that werewolf-y trick of his, the one he still hasn’t taught to Scott.

Stiles sits back in his seat, realising he’s breathing hard, heart hammering in his chest.

But Derek didn’t answer and he can’t let it go.

He stumbles out of the car and up to the dilapidated Hale house, ignoring Derek’s bellow of “I SAID GO HOME!” echoing from somewhere inside - or outside, depending on the state of the roof wherever it is he’s standing.

He opens the front door to find Derek in the entryway, feet planted and arms crossed, glare verging on murderous - though it’s hardly the first time Stiles has been on the receiving end of the expression.

“You didn’t answer my question,” he accuses, planting his own feet despite knowing it will do nothing to anchor him if Derek decides to physically remove him.

Derek snarls, eyes flashing blue and fangs coming out to play, but he’s trembling, like he’s barely in control of it.

Stiles may be stubborn, but he doesn’t want to die, so he tries to back away, but Derek jerks in what he’s sure is an aborted pounce. He stills, realising, somehow, that it’s not an attack coiling Derek’s muscles.

“Get out,” he grits through his fangs. “Get out before I-”

“What? Rip my throat out?” Stiles challenges. Slowly, hesitantly, not sure what’s even driving him to do it, he tilts his head back and bares his throat.

Derek’s eyes flare even brighter as they widen and there’s a high-pitched whine before he seems to go slack, sagging forward until his face collides with the side of Stiles’ neck. He sways under the weight, shivering at the flutter of Derek’s eyelashes against his skin.

“Come on, big guy,” he grunts. “Let’s get you sat down.”

He manages to shuffle Derek back a few steps to what used to be the lounge doorway, but halts when he catches sight of what’s left of the sofa, covered in ash and- well, Stiles doesn’t even want to know. “On second thought, back to the Jeep. You can’t stay here.”

Derek’s grip tightens and Stiles soothes a hand over his back.

“You can’t stay here, Derek,” he repeats, gently, speaking into his hair. “Not anymore. I won’t let you.”

The tension that had returned to Derek’s shoulders loosens once more and Stiles coaxes him outside into the fresh air with no more fuss. It’s only when he’s gotten him in the car - finally seeing his wide, innocent eyes when they’re forced to part, the ghost of the boy who lost so much - that he realises his plan has more than a few holes. But he knows his dad has the same drive to do what’s right as he does and it will take just one look at Derek’s vulnerable shell to crumble and agree to offer up their spare room.

And if Derek is too skittish to part from him and Stiles allows him to spend the night in his room - as the hand he curls around Stiles’ wrist as soon as he climbs in the driver’s seat tells him - well, that’s something his dad never needs to find out.

8

Once a well-known hub of silver mining, Lake Valley got its riches in the late 19th century from a single vein that produced an abundance that made the town of 4,000 quite wealthy. But as is common in mineral mining, the riches eventually became depleted, and Lake Valley soon had nothing with which to support itself. 

It is now a ghost town in the arid hills of southern New Mexico, crumbling and dilapidated. 

Slow Fade (1)

Overview: Being forced out of the only life you want comes with its hardships, but hiding it from the two people you care about the most proves to be the most challenging situation you’ll face.

Characters: Dean, Sam, Reader, Bobby (mentioned)

Warnings: mild language, violence, blood

Word Count: 1,709

A/N: Hello to a new series! This one has been rolling around in my brain for awhile. I hope you guys like it :)

Beta’d by my sole sister @wheresthekillswitch“This is where you leave me?!!!”

and my writing soulmate @hannahindie“WHAT IS THIS SNEAKY SHENANIGAN”

Masterlist

Do you know that feeling of utter exhaustion?

It’s the kind of tired that sits in your bones, slowly creeping its way through your system as the hours drag on. It’s when your eyes feel like they want to close all the time, but even when they do your thoughts refuse to let your mind rest. It’s when walking across a room feels like running a mile, when people talk to you and it takes all of your focus to even listen, when caffeine gives you an instant headache and sleep catalysts just send you into fitful dreams.

Does anyone else know that feeling?

Because that’s been me. Consistently. For the past month.


It was the slamming of the breaks that woke me. Or maybe the seat belt cutting into my chest, knocking out a short breath. Or the snap of Dean’s fingers in front of my face while his slightly annoyed tone slowly drifts to my ears.

“Y/N? Earth to Y/N?”

I shake my head and blink to clear my vision, reaching a hand up to rub crust out of my eyes while using the other to yank the seatbelt to return some breathing slack. “What?” I snap. I feel the last remnants of rest trickle away, and my heart longs after them.

“We’re here,” Dean replies, giving me an odd look. “You feeling okay? Didn’t you get, like, ten hours last night?”

If only.

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6

This Time Imperfect 

{{SPN AU: hunter!Lucifer angel!Sam}}

It was the same voice, night after night - the same breathtaking eyes, undefinable, yet entirely unforgettable, lingering behind the hunter’s eyes long after the sun had risen and the day had begun. They had been haunting him from the beginning of his relatively limited memory - from the day one Bobby Singer had found him, slightly battered and entirely confused, shut away in the back room of some unnamed, unmapped facility. 

He’d known little more than his name - though of that he was certain - but a nagging in his mind had convinced him to conceal that truth from the rough, yet kind man, offering him the shortened “Luce” to be safe. Bobby had taken him back to his humble home, for which Luce was eternally grateful. He had cleaned him up, given him clothing and a place to sleep, and when it became undeniably obvious that the displaced man’s memories would not be returning anytime soon, he had allowed him to stay. 

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Go Home, Stiles.

This was meant to be the second half of something bigger, but I’m struggling with writer’s block and wanted to feel like I’d finished something, however small, and this is the result.

Canon divergent somewhere in season 1.



“Hey,” Stiles says and Derek pauses with one hand on the car door handle, turning back to look at him with impatient eyebrows. Stiles has never really been one for mincing words, and he doesn’t start now. “Am I your mate?”

Derek stares at him, a brief parting of his lips the only sign he was caught off-guard, and when he finally speaks it’s accompanied by a low warning growl. “Go home, Stiles.”

The door slams shut and Derek disappears into the darkness using that werewolf-y trick of his, the one he still hasn’t taught to Scott.

Stiles sits back in his seat, realising he’s breathing hard, heart hammering in his chest.

But Derek didn’t answer and he can’t let it go.

He stumbles out of the car and up to the dilapidated Hale house, ignoring Derek’s bellow of “I SAID GO HOME!” echoing from somewhere inside - or outside, depending on the state of the roof wherever it is he’s standing.

He opens the front door to find Derek in the entryway, feet planted and arms crossed, glare verging on murderous - though it’s hardly the first time Stiles has been on the receiving end of the expression.

“You didn’t answer my question,” he accuses, planting his own feet despite knowing it will do nothing to anchor him if Derek decides to physically remove him.

Derek snarls, eyes flashing blue and fangs coming out to play, but he’s trembling, like he’s barely in control of it.

Stiles may be stubborn, but he doesn’t want to die, so he tries to back away, but Derek jerks in what he’s sure is an aborted pounce. He stills, realising, somehow, that it’s not an attack coiling Derek’s muscles.

“Get out,” he grits through his fangs. “Get out before I-”

“What? Rip my throat out?” Stiles challenges. Slowly, hesitantly, not sure what’s even driving him to do it, he tilts his head back and bares his throat.

Derek’s eyes flare even brighter as they widen and there’s a high-pitched whine before he seems to go slack, sagging forward until his face collides with the side of Stiles’ neck. He sways under the weight, shivering at the flutter of Derek’s eyelashes against his skin.

“Come on, big guy,” he grunts. “Let’s get you sat down.”

He manages to shuffle Derek back a few steps to what used to be the lounge doorway, but halts when he catches sight of what’s left of the sofa, covered in ash and- well, Stiles doesn’t even want to know. “On second thought, back to the Jeep. You can’t stay here.”

Derek’s grip tightens and Stiles soothes a hand over his back.

“You can’t stay here, Derek,” he repeats, gently, speaking into his hair. “Not anymore. I won’t let you.”

The tension that had returned to Derek’s shoulders loosens once more and Stiles coaxes him outside into the fresh air with no more fuss. It’s only when he’s gotten him in the car - finally seeing his wide, innocent eyes when they’re forced to part, the ghost of the boy who lost so much - that he realises his plan has more than a few holes. But he knows his dad has the same drive to do what’s right as he does and it will take just one look at Derek’s vulnerable shell to crumble and agree to offer up their spare room.

And if Derek is too skittish to part from him and Stiles allows him to spend the night in his room - as the hand he curls around Stiles’ wrist as soon as he climbs in the driver’s seat tells him - well, that’s something his dad never needs to find out.

Reverse burglary (a Christmas miracle)

(Based on this post. Sterek prompt, with a poor, grieving Derek who gets the safety and rescue he so desperately hopes for)

Derek sighs. The way to home from campus looks as unappealing as the stack of work that weighs down his bag. Snow and slush has filled the streets while he had been confined to the monotonic walls of the lecture room, coloring the ground with whites and grays and browns. 

Things have been tough for a long time now. Ever since Laura was killed, her body buried underneath the old and dilapidated Hale house, Derek’s been all alone. Grieving, anchorless mess. The fact that his own uncle had taken his alpha’s life, someone that was supposed to be family, was such a big blow that Derek hadn’t even known what to do with Peter afterwards.

Not that he had to do anything. His uncle had been killed by a hunter, Chris Argent, after Peter had gone rampant and apparently turned a couple teenagers in his fury. At first, a glimmer of hope had burst in Derek’s chest. Other wolves, just as lost and clueless as he was. It could mean a new start of a pack, a new family. Someone to get to be in contact with, to rely on without having to give anything but love in return.

It… Did not happen. 

The first boy that had been turned, the one with the slightly magical smelling friend, had rebuffed Derek so hard he was still blinking back tears whenever he thought of it. The second one he had approached from afar, but after getting the gist that the kid, Jackson whats-his-face was a self-entitled, rich and spoiled jock, Derek had turned on his heels and never looked back.

But even if he didn’t get to have a pack, his chest burning with longing and sadness so deep it ached whenever he saw the other wolves (The other kid, Scott, had turned into a true alpha, and had turned three other kids as well to join their pack. They looked happy.), at least he was safe in Beacon Hills from other hunters. Peter had killed Kate, Derek shuddering at the thought of her still roaming these streets, and Chris had taken the position of the local hunter, and had mostly only threatened Derek.

Apart from that one time that Chris and his goons had destroyed Laura’s Camaro, the only thing he had left of her. He had sobbed for the whole night, ready to curl into a ball and disappear, crawl into the grave with Laura’s body and hope Mother Nature would caress him into sleep so deep he’d get to see the rest of his family.

He stayed.

But one problem (among many others) that he had, was that Derek had no money. With Laura’s death, the human society unaware of her passing, since ‘werewolf territory death match’ wasn’t a viable explanation to the police, all of the money that their inheritance held was in Laura’s name. In Laura’s bank accounts. Derek had no access to those.

The only thing he had was the apartment Laura had rented, with a automatic payment contract to the monthly rent. Without an anchor, or at least a stable one, Derek was unable to get a job because he was so afraid he would fuck it up. He’d enrolled into Beacon Hills community college, because that too had been pre-paid, but other than the three pairs of henleys, two t-shirts, four pairs of boxers and one pair of jeans with his Converse shoes and Kånken bag, he virtually had nothing for himself.

He was piss poor, unemployed full-time student with no friends, no family and hunters that were ready to put him down with only a wrong twitch of the eye.

His life was a disaster.

Trudging through the melting snow, Derek listened to his stomach mourn for food. In three days time there would be a full moon, and in that time, the woods would be dangerous to hunt in. If he wanted food, he’d have to go either tonight, or tomorrow. He tskd, thinking of the pile of essays waiting for him.

Thank God he was allowed to hand write them. If he wasn’t, he’d practically have to live in the library or at the school campus, because he didn’t own a computer. Even his apartment held only one working lamp with a light bulb, an empty fridge and two towels. He did have a plate and a fork, as well as a meat knife he’d snatched from the outdoor diner that didn’t look close enough for their customer’s empty dishes. 

When he nears his apartment, Derek stiffens. Someone is inside his apartment. Wary, he carefully steps the three sets of stairs up to his door, and listens. The burglar doesn’t seem to be doing anything though. Which makes sense. Derek doesn’t even own a bed, for Christ’s sake. He usually sleeps as a wolf on the floor.

He rattles the lock loudly, hoping for whomever it is that’s on the other side would take the hint and bolt. But the person doesn’t. Derek opens the lock slowly, letting the door creak from its hinges, and steps inside. He drops his bag near the entrance as he closes the door behind him and stares.

The stranger is standing in a what should be a living room, his back faced against the front door. And it is a he, Derek realizes. It’s the kid, the friend of that true alpha. He’d never gotten his name, though, but he could smell the sheriff and the kid shared a scent, so he knows he’s a Stilinski at least.

The kid turns slowly, his eyes wide as he locks them with Derek.

‘’Dude,’’ the teen says with a feeling. Derek can sympathize.  

‘’This is where you live? There’s - There’s nothing here! I don’t even see a bed. Your fridge is so empty it doesn’t even have a light. Does any of your lights in this apartment work?’’

Confused, Derek quietly points to the one in the bathroom. ‘’That one works,’’ he says blankly.

‘’… Only that one?’’

‘’Uh,’’ Derek says, ‘’Yes?’’

‘’Dude,’’ the kid says with horror. ‘’What do you eat? You look like you have bones and skin, and… Stubble. Very manly and uh, wolfy, but not very nutritious.’’

Getting the wits of him, Derek scowls, growling a little. He crosses his arms. ‘’What are you even doing here?’’ he snarls. ‘’How did you even get in?’’

The kid looks unimpressed. ‘’I’m a cop’s kid. I know how to pick locks. Which, by the way, my dad’s the sheriff. He’s uh, in the know now. So.’’

‘’So what?’’

‘’So,’’ the kid says, ‘’You don’t need to hide in a place like this anymore. We know you’re a werewolf, and the Argent douche is a hunter, but dad will keep you safe. He’s not letting Argent mess with any of us, so I’m sure he’d be happy to help you out too. So, you know, move to a better apartment, get some food and clothes and stuff.’’

Derek blinks. ‘’I live here,’’ he says, uncomprehending. He doesn’t have any money to get a better apartment. He doesn’t live this way because he wants to.

‘’Well, yeah, but can’t you like, move somewhere else? You have money, I know, because I, um, might have seen the police file and the um, amount of money you got from the uh …’’ Death of you family, the kid doesn’t finish, but Derek hears it loud and clear. He looks away, the loss of it all hitting him renew.

‘’I don’t have any money,’’ he grits out. ‘’My sister… She’s got it all.’’

‘’Oh, uh, cool,’’ the kid says, swaying on his heels. ‘’So where is she? Do you want me to help you find her?’’

Derek snorts humorlessly. ‘’I know where she is,’’ he murmurs, hugging himself. ‘’And that’s where I hope I would be too.’’

The kid blinks. ‘’…And where is that?’’

‘’In a grave,’’ he answers roughly, ‘’and all the better for it.’’

The kid takes a few fumbled steps backwards. ‘’She’s dead? She uh, who - ‘’

‘’My uncle,’’ Derek sighs, and suddenly he’s weary, defeated. He comes to the living room, charting away from the kid and slumping against one of the walls, sliding it down so that he’s sitting on the floor.

‘’Everyone is dead. There’s noone left but me.’’

The kid frowns, whispering, ‘’That’s rough.’’ He comes to sit next to Derek, mimicking his position. They’re both quiet for a while, the moon filtering through the curtainless window, revealing the dust speckles swarming the floor. 

Abruptly, the kid stands up. ‘’I know what to do,’’ he says to nobody in particular, and then looks down at Derek and winks. ‘’Just wait here. I’ll be back.’’

The kid dashes to the door, only stopping to excitedly tell Derek, ‘’My name’s Stiles by the way. And I’ll be back so just sit tight, mister. I’m gonna - Yeah, this is going to be good, just wait - ‘’ And then he’s gone.

All that’s left of the guy is mixed smells that permeate Derek’s den. He waits a couple hours, but the kid doesn’t come back. So he goes to sleep, already regretting not getting any essays done. But that’s a problem for tomorrow.

When Derek gets home late the next day, there are strangers again in his apartment. This time it’s multiple someones. He doesn’t bother going quietly like last time, because he can smell the pack of wolves and they probably already know he’s coming.

Stiles is the one who opens the door before he has time to fish out his keys, and he’s beaming, ushering Derek inside.

Derek stops just shy of Stiles getting the door closed. He blinks dumbly at the sight that greets him. There are lights on everywhere at the apartment. There’s a fucking rug on his hallway, and he can see furniture in the living room, peeking from the corners. Stiles comes from behind him, pushing him more inside. At first he’s greeted by Sheriff Stilinski. The man is in his uniform, his face apologetic and reassuring.

‘’Mr. Hale,’’ he says, extending his hand. ‘’I have heard from my son that you are someone I can come to if I have any questions about the supernatural. I’ve been educated within the past four months, but information from a person who’s clearly more knowledgeable than my son’s friends or our town’s cryptic vet would be appreciated. And,’’ he says, bringing Derek into a comfortable hug, ‘’I’m very sorry for your loss son. I knew your family. If you ever need anyone to talk to, I’m always available.’’

Then the man extracts himself and offers a smile. ‘’And call me John, son. I’l be sure to have my number in your cellphone after tonight.’’

‘’Derek,’’ Derek says in response. ‘’And uh, I don’t have a phone.’’

‘’You do now!’’ Stiles pipes up. Derek looks over, and then he sees the herd of teenagers that are the wolves he’s been seeing around town.

‘’I’m Isaac Lahey,’’ the first kid, Isaac, says. ‘’Nice to meet you.’’ He doesn’t offer his hand, but nods shyly. Derek knows him. He’d listened to the kid get beaten up more often than not, and even went to threaten the kid’ father a couple times. It’s nice to see Isaac to not be in pain or scared.

‘’Derek,’’ he offers in response. 

‘’I’m Erica, and this is my best friend Boyd,’’ the blond, white teen says, and points to the guy behind her. Derek nods at them.

‘’And I’m uh, Scott McCall. And I um, wanted to …’’ the kid whines in protest when Stiles jabs him in the side, but lowers his head. ‘’I’m sorry I was rude to you when we met. You tried to help me and I was being an idiot. I would like to start from a clean slate, and um, offer you a place in my pack. That is, if you want it.’’

Derek looks around. There are two sofas and a coffee table, a couple rugs and a bed. Even red curtains have made an appearance, and he can smell food in his kitchen that he knows wasn’t there before.

‘’Why all this? You don’t even know me. I don’t know you,’’ Derek says, baffled.

Stiles shrugs. ‘’It’s Christmas time and that is a time of giving? Because dude, I’ve seen you brooding away, thinking we don’t see when you look at us. I kind of know now what wolves need, and wolves need a pack. And you don’t have one. And we rejected you when you tried to form one with us, but we regret that. Because leaving someone alone after so much tragedy is, well, pretty much a punishable crime to me. So.’’ The kid spreads his hand. ‘’Here we are, if you want us. And you don’t even have to decide now. Just, think about it. Get to know us, let us get to know you. Let the odd ones gather into one big, smoochy family.’’

There are groans from the others, and the sheriff facepalms so hard, Derek hears the slap sound it makes, as the man’s palm hits against skin.

Derek hugs himself, already feeling a little bit better at having someone similar to him, someone with the same set of instincts than him be near him. Fill his den with their scents.

‘’I’ll think about it,’’ he promises, and Stiles fist pumps. Then the teens start carrying food from the kitchen, and Derek can’t help but think that, yeah. Maybe Laura will have to wait for awhile before Derek joins him.

Just for a little while.

Coach

You can find my Masterlist HERE!

Prompt: Heyy, if you’re up for it, can I request an imagine where Negan was coach before the apocalypse (your 18-19 now) and  he finds you by  the road, realising you were his student and he takes you back to the Sanctuary and is really protective of you?? Sorry if it’s too long, love your blog <3 – Via @maddiemoo16602

Ships: None
Words: 1,369
Warnings: Curses
Category: Angst with a dash of fluff

***

You were walking down a street of an abandoned town, dilapidated houses either side of you. You kept your eyes peeled for any sort of movement. You heard nothing except the winds rushing through broken windows and long absent streets.

Ivy crawled up the once neatly panelled houses like a parasite. The neatly trimmed lawns and flowers which may have once been well kept and colourful were now overgrown with weeds which had killed the beautiful roses and daisies that once bloomed there long ago.

Your stomach rumbled as it had been for the past week. You had eaten nothing but a dead rat and even then you only ate half of it, its milky eyes felt although it was staring at you from beyond the grave.

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