he's like yeah this is jennifer

So what do the actors think Emma and Killian’s “dream honeymoon” would be? “Five minutes alone probably,” O'Donoghue chuckled.

“Yeah, exactly!” Morrison smiled. “Just somewhere with a door locked. I think just a couple bottles of wine and some french fries and a bath, maybe?”

“Oh really, what else?” O'Donoghue pressed.

“I don’t know!” she answered playfully. “I just feel like it should be really relaxing because their lives are very stressful because they’re always trying to save people and I feel like a romantic bath might be nice.”

“Well, there you go!” O'Donoghue said as he and Morrison burst into laughter.


Jen & Colin talk Honeymoon in Leanne’s ETonline interview

Give me all the honeymoon bath fics now!!

Her Favorite Genius

This is my fic for @passionate-hedgehog‘s exchange!  I got @stunudo to write for!

She only had a couple preferences: that it takes place within the first eleven seasons and that it has JJ, Garcia, and Spencer in it.

Coming up with an idea for this was easier than I expected.  This is inspired by the end of season 8 episode 5, where JJ announces Henry is going trick-or-treating as his favorite profiler, Spencer.  In this fic, Spencer and Y/N’s daughter decides to go as her favorite tech genius!

Hope you like this darling, I really enjoyed writing it!  Sorry, it’s a little short, I’ve hit a stump and really needed something to get me out of it.  This helped, but I hope it’s good nonetheless!

Originally posted by heroofretribution

“No trick-or-treating for you this year?” Rossi asked Morgan as they made their way through the bullpen.

The chiseled man chuckled and shook his head.  “Tempting but I think not.”

“How about dinner?  I’ll buy,” Rossi offered, smirking at his coworker.

“I’ll take a free meal any day.”

“What about Jenn, Y/N?  She still not going to trick-or-treat?” Rossi asked Y/N.  She was stacking file folders on her desk, trying to organize quickly so she could get out of there.

“Funny you mention that,” she replied with a smirk.  “She’s changed her mind.”

“Everyone,” Spencer said from the doorway.  “As you all know, little Jenn said she didn’t want to go trick-or-treating this year because she was a bit nervous about it.”

“Takes after her father,” Penelope said with a smirk.  “What changed her mind?”

“Well,” Y/N said, “I told her that if she doesn’t want to go, she doesn’t have to, but that meant she wouldn’t get to show everyone what she dressed up as.”

“You blackmailed a toddler?” Derek asked amused.

“She wanted so badly to dress up as her hero and favorite genius that she decided to come here and around the rest of the Bureau to get her candy.”

“She’s dressing up as Spencer?” Penelope gushed, placing a hand over her heart.

“Nope,” Y/N said with a grin.

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And my bartender Santa gave me an extra dose of Christmas cheer.

(warning: long story)

I’m a regular at a bar. I don’t have family, my room mate was out of town. So I went to the bar.

I was having a good night. Then this mother f*cker showed up.

Now this mother f*cker and I don’t have a lot of history in my mind. I was dating a girl three years ago. She cheated on me. I broke up with her. The whole relationship lasted all of a month. In my mind, that was the end of it. Shit happens, move on.

The person she cheated on me with, was this mother f*cker.

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Tales from OUAT Con Vancouver

Jennifer Morrison (Emma Swan) talked about how awesome it was to be paired with an actor you really like and can be friends with (Colin O'Donoghue who plays Killian Jones).

“He knows me better than I know myself. Like one time on set my hand kept itching, and Colin totally figured out why. ‘Did you eat the carrots?’ I said yeah, and he said the carrots were next to the peppers and I probably brushed up against them. He remembered that I was allergic to peppers.”

Raphael Sbarge (Archie Hopper) talked about reconnecting with an old psychiatrist friend over Facebook just before his audition.

"I asked her if she had any glasses I could use for the audition, and she said, 'It’s funny, I just found these ones in a drawer, and I bought them 20 years ago when we first met.’ Those are the glasses I wear as Archie. Usually they don’t let actors bring their own props on set because it would be disastrous if they broke, but the props folks are very careful with the glasses and snatch them back between takes. At the end of this season, they very carefully put them in the case and reverently handed them back to me.”

Keegan Connor Tracey (Blue Fairy) talked about her first day on set.

"I was in the green screen room, and there was no people, just a water bottle for Prince Charming. I was hoisted into the air about 40 feet up for hours and hours. And since I was a new mom, eventually things started getting… uncomfortable, and I had be like, 'Um, excuse me, do you think someone could get me a breast pump?’ Otherwise I would have started leaking through my corset.”

Karen David talked about her audition for Princess Jasmin.

“The part originally stated it was for Shahrazad, who was described as a tough tomboy sort of person. So I thought I would wear the same outfit I wore for my Galavant audition, which was a baggy jean jumper and riding boots with some dried mud still stuck on them. And I get there, and all these other women are wearing beautiful elaborate dresses, and I’m like, 'Did I miss the memo?’ Because they had all figured out it was for Princess Jasmin, of course, but I got the part anyway.”

Gil McKinney (Prince Eric) was such an awesome singer! He talked about his first time on set, and how his first scene was to walk down the stairs in the green screen grand ballroom.

“All I could think about was, ‘Don’t fall. Don’t fall.’”

And of course, who could forget Papa Hook, aka Adam Croasdell?

Here’s a bunch more Jennifer and Colin pictures, because they’re my favorites.

Yearning to learn

Originally posted by tabis-eyebrows

Originally posted by s-tttop

A/N ~ Ok so this is pretty long, 9.7K words to be precise. This honestly is supposed to be a oneshot but it I like it so much it may get another chapter or two.

Theme ~ College/University AU

Pairing ~ Professor Choi Seung hyun x Reader

Featuring ~ BTS


“Hello, are you there?” Your best friend Jennifer asked as she waved a hand in front of your face startling you out of your thoughts and bringing you back to the cafeteria you were sat in.

“Sorry, what?” you asked as you picked up your drink and took a sip.

“Oh my god, have you not heard a word I’ve said?” she asked with a tisk and a shake of her head.

“Sorry” you replied sheepishly as you played with the pitiful excuse of what they called ‘food’ that sat on your tray.

“You’re hopeless, you know he’s never going to notice you right? He’s your professor”

“I know but he’s just so god damn gorgeous” you replied with a sigh as you lent back in your seat.

Ever since your old literature professor retired and was replaced by the new one, you had found it extremely hard to concentrate on anything at all. From the moment he walked in the room you couldn’t take your eyes off of him and how could you, everything about him commanded you look. He was the tall, dark and handsome type, with broad muscular shoulders and eyes that could kill with just one look and a jaw line that was so sharp you were sure it could cut diamonds.

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Maid - Joker x Reader imagine part 4

a/n: yes babes its finally here ehehehheh it will be quite rough cause people have requested me that so yeah i am sinning as i am writing this help me god!! oh and this is really long btw, at least for me

oh and (h/c) means hair color btw :)

characters: ok you know the drill but for anyone new its JOKER ; READER

warnings: quite rough smut, daddy kink (cause i know you perverts love that ;])

Time passed and it was all settled. A new maid had been hired, new stuff for me bought… I told him that I didn’t need anything new, that I could just drop by my place and get my stuff, but J insisted. He said ‘i will have everything for my princess to be happy’. That made my heart melt, but also many bank-robbings and heists happen. I didn’t know much about his business, only that it was dangerous.
Usually the day went by with me reading books, cooking, shopping or drawing while he was out - sometimes he’d take me with him to meetings to show that I was his girl. He came home either happy or mad but either way we’d end up having sex. Was I complaining? Not at all. I loved it, there was always something different each time.
As for today, he had woken up before me and probably gone out. But not before leaving a small bag on the floor next to where I was sleeping. I stretched out, sat up in the bed and picked up the bag. It was black and it had a little pink envelope of my name attached to it. He rarely did this. I carefully opened the envelope because I liked to keep them and read what the letter inside read.

my precious angel,

here’s something i’m definitely going to rip off of you, but put it on before 9pm and if you like, put some of that makeup on your face, there will be a car waiting for you at 9pm

there is some business i’d like to do and take you with me

- J

I smiled at the letter and put it back in the envelope. I looked at the clock on the nightstand - it was half past 11am. I smiled again and reached my hand into the bag. The material of something felt like silk. Oh my, I thought, pulling the contents out. I took the shiny one in my hands and laid it out on the bed in front of me. It was a shiny, kind of short silver dress with a very deep V cut. The cut ended where the belly button should be, starting on very thin straps that had beads all over them (a/n: ok we all know that joker likes his lady in a revealing attire so yah)

The other thing were panties. Well, they barely counted as because they were more strings. They were a blush-y red tone, and it was lace and only lace. He must really love lace on me. Last time I wore a pink lace lingerie set, he needed me right there right now. We were at a restaurant - yeah, how romantic - at one of his business meetings and, as J got a little hot and bothered, he discovered my choice of lingerie and had me there in the restaurant’s men’s room. That’s how much he loved lace on me.

Should I try the dress on now? Yeah, probably. I took off the large shirt I was sleeping in and stood up from the bed, taking the dress with me. Slipping on the dress and zipping the back of it, I looked in the mirror at myself. Wow, did the dress look good on me. It looked perfect on me, I looked perfect in it. I was turning and posing in front of the mirror when I heard a knock on the door.

  “Just a second!” I yelled out, slipping out of the dress. I put it and the lingerie back in the bag and put on the large shirt on me. It came down to my knee, so I was safe form exposure. I walked to the door and opened it. There was our maid, Jennifer who was only ten years older than me, standing with a smile.

“Good morning, miss.” She said and I smiled in response. J insisted on everyone in the house calling me 'majesty’ or 'queen’, and they’re scared of him. So I tell them to call me less… higher than them when it’s just me, but around J - they call me as he pleased. Oh, I felt pity for them.

“Hi.” I said, leaning against the doorframe with a goofy smile on my face.

“Breakfast is in the dining room.” She announced. Jennifer was almost like a mother to me. “Is everything okay, miss?”

“Yeah, everything is just perfect, Jen.”

“Okay. You just seem to be in a very good mood now, which is unusual but good.”

“All is good, my friend. I will be down in a few minutes.”

“Alright, miss. Anything else I can do for you?”

“No, thank you. You’re dismissed.” I said and closed the door after seeing Jen nod and leave. I actually felt bad for her and the other staff members - Joker was a scary guy around everyone and there were strict rules for the staff.

First and most important, you can’t tell anyone where and who you’re working for unless you want to get killed because Joker knows everything. Second, strict working hours. You must come to work 20 minutes before your actual shift starts and can’t leave until everything’s done. Third, you must do everything and anything Joker or the Princess ask you. This payed good money, but it was also a very hard and kind of a dangerous job. You just had to keep your mouth shut.

Breakfast was wonderful, as always. Jennifer always made amazing food, especially breakfast. There were always fruits, pancakes, eggs and everything else that I could desire. Sometimes she’d make glorious English breakfast, which she was good at, too. When J wasn’t having breakfast with me, I always let Jennifer sit with me. I tried to be nice to every staff member, even J’s henchmen - they deserved it.

The day all-together had gone by pretty quickly, and - sooner than I thought - I was already doing my makeup in the bathroom. Nothing major, just some mascara and pink lipstick. I took off my comfy clothes, put on the lacy lingerie and slipped into the dress again. My (h/c) curled hair fell perfectly over my shoulders and it was for me to decide what shoes to wear. Luckily, I had just the  pair of white heels, which would go well with the dress. 

Putting the shoes on, I noticed that it was already 8:59pm. I looked at myself in the mirror one last time and then exited the bedroom. I walked down the stairs, only to be met with two of J’s henchmen. 

“Good afternoon, miss.” One of them said and I smiled.

“Hi, boys.” I replied. “Here to take me to your boss?”

“Yes, miss. Let us escort you to the car.” Another one said. I walked up to them and they led me out of the house, into the chilly afternoon of Gotham’s autumn. They walked me to a black car and opened the backseat door for me. I gladly took a seat in the car and they closed the door.

The car ride was short, but it felt as if it was so torturously long. Maybe I just couldn’t wait to meet him. The man at the wheel stopped at J’s club and I couldn’t stop smiling. I really wanted to see him.

One of the henchmen opened the door for me and I stepped out of the car. My heels clicked against the ground as the henchmen led me into the club filled with music and drug-driven youngsters and gangsters. The henchmen walked me to the bar table where he was standing. He was slowly turning around and once his eyes found me, they sparkled. He was in a suit, he had a small purple bow around his neck. His green hair was slicked back, as always.

“Darling,” he said with the famous smile of his. “Come to Daddy.” He said and I needed no more to run into his arms. My arms went around his neck as his snaked over my waist and stayed there. 

“I missed you,” I said, putting my hand on his cheek. He growled.

“Mmm, I missed you too, baby girl.” He said through a growl and looked at my lips before kissing them roughly. One of his hands slid down to butt and grabbed onto it, and I was sure it’d leave a mark. “I really love how you look in this dress.”

“Well, I can only thank you, Mr. J for buying it for me.” I said with a smile.

“Yo, J,” I then heard somebody say from behind us. Joker’s head turned to the voice and the look in his eyes changed. It was probably a business guy. “Can we have the meeting now?” 

“You are not to say when we meet.” Joker sternly said at the tall guy. He was in a simple attire, unlike other people, and us, in the club. “But I’ll have my men escort you while I’m taking care of other business here.” His eyes narrowed at the guy. He followed J’s men while J himself turned back to me. “Now, my dear. Do you want to go dancing with other girls while I’m at business or do you want to come with me do business and show that guy you’re all mine?” J asked, tilting my chin upwards with his gloved hand.

“I want to come with you…” I almost moaned in response. 

“Then let’s go, my dear.” J said and turned around, putting his arms around my waist as we walked to the back of the club. There was a round section that was separated from the outside with bead curtains. A guard parted the curtains to let us through. The guy, J’s business partner was standing at a round table in the middle of a - also round - golden sofa chair. Joker moved me before him and whispered in my ear: 

“Sit down, doll.” I nodded and made my way into the circle, taking a seat on the sofa chair. Joker soon followed, sitting right next to me and putting an arm around my waist. “You can sit down.” He coldly spoke to the guy, who sat down across us. “Do you want anything.. to drink?”

“Nah, I’m not thirsty. Thank you, J.” The man responded. “Although I have to say - everything you offer is pretty valuable and priceless.” This man already seemed really sketchy to me. J had probably already cracked open his shelf by reading the man like an open book.

“What are you trying to do?” J asked in a menacing tone. “Sweet talk me?”

“No, J, I was just telling the truth.” He said, looking me up and down. A sketchy creep? Jesus. I felt J beside me tensing up and breathing heavily, seconds later his hand left my waist and was on my thigh, dipping his fingers into my skin. I put my hand over his and caressed his rough skin to calm him down.

“See her?” J gestured with his hand at me, looking the guy right in the eyes. “She… is all mine, only mine.” J saw the way the guy looked at me. Now he was afraid of Joker. “Do we have that clear?” 

“Yes, J.” The guy nodded. “But where’s Harley?”

“Harley? Who? Where’s Harley? Harley, Harley, Harley…” Joker turned his head all around. Harley? But who was that? “Harley… is not your business.”

“Yes, sorry for asking, J.”

“Now, let’s cut to the chase. I feel like there’s something you have to give me. Isn’t that… money?”

“Y-yeah, about that…” the guy trailed off, the fear was evident in his eyes. J narrowed his blue eyes at him. “t-the money’s gone.”

“The money’s gone?” Joker repeated. Oh, this was bad. 

“Y-yes, I’m sorry, J.” The guy’s head hung low. “If there’s anything I can do, I will. But it was so unexpected, if we-”

“You could shut up.” Joker interrupted in an angered tone. J then rose to his feet and walked over to the guy, sitting next to him. What was he about to do? “You know, people do deals. One does something in favor for the other and the other does them a favor in return. You know what I’m talking about?”


“Well, you and I had a deal. I did something in your favor. But you… didn’t do me a favor back. Now, do you know what I do with people like that?”

“No, J.”

“Doll face, don’t look.” J said as he was taking a gun from behind him, only I could see. Oh my God. “Sweets, look. Away.” He said again and I turned my head away from them, focusing on the beaded curtains. “I do this.” I heard right before the sound of a shot being fired sounded through the club. I screamed, as well as many other people. I turned my head back around and there sat J with a sinister look and blood splattered on his face. One of his henchmen handed him a handkerchief and he cleaned his face with it. Did he kill the man?

There was blood all over the sofa chair above the now dead body. I put my hand over my mouth, not believing what had just happened. It was the first time I had witnessed him killing somebody. Oh my God. And this was business for him. Oh dear.

J rose to his feet again and reached his hand out for me. I looked up at him with fear visible in my eyes.

“C'mon, sweets, let’s go. We have to go.” He said, impatience audible. I stood up, not to anger him even more and he took my arm, pulling us out of the round lounge. “We have something to do back home, baby doll.” We and J’s henchmen walked through the backdoor of the club and J pulled me into his lamborghini, in the passenger seat. I was really scared of him. He just killed someone. In front of me. So that was his way of taking care of people who don’t do him good. I definitely did not want to be on his bad list.

The car ride home was deadly silent and J’s hand was on my thigh all the time, creeping up and down. Once we were out on our driveway, J barked at his men to stay outside in case someone comes looking for us and dragged me inside. After he closed the door, I turned away, standing before him with my eyes to the floor. His fingers raised my chin up, but I turned away. He cupped both of my cheeks in his hands and raised my face to look at him, but my eyes were anywhere but looking in his. 

“Look at me, doll.” He said. “LOOK AT ME!” He shouted, making a tear escape my eye and I looked at him. “Good girl. Now… Daddy has some rage to express..” he said, sliding his hand underneath my dress. I didn’t want this, not in this situation. Yes, he came home angry and we had sex, but this was different. He killed a man with the same hand that was on my waist now. This was not wanted by me.

J growled and pressed a kiss between my cheekbone and ear. I sobbed, closing my eyes.

“What is it, angel?” He asked, slowly kissing down my neck. “Aren’t you enjoying this?” I didn’t speak a word for some reason, as much as I wanted to. Joker took me by my waist, hopping me over his shoulder. He walked through the house, up the stairs and entered a room - our bedroom - and dropped me on the bed. 

He crawled over my body and looked at me with that menacing look in his eyes. His lips pressed against mine as he growled, sending vibrations through my body. In the wrongest ways possible this was turning me on slightly.  His hands slid up under the dress, massaging my breasts with his rough touch while tears were rolling down my cheeks one after another. 

“Daddy..” I moaned out in a crying tone and J suddenly ripped the beautiful dress apart, exposing my upper half to him. 

“Now this is a sight I like to see.” He growled and there was even more aggressiveness and anger in his voice. He tugged the lace panties off of me, down my legs and threw them away. He then unbuckled his belt and I used the opportunity to back away from him. I brought my knees to my chest when I reached the headboard of the bed. J was at the edge of the bed, only in his boxers. He noticed me huddled away from him and snarled. J’s hand reached out politely at first, but then he grabbed my ankle and yanked my body towards him. “Why don’t you be a good girl and obey Daddy.” He said, growling the last two words, almost barking. Not waiting for my reply, he turned me over so I was on all fours before him. “You know Daddy doesn’t like it when you don’t obey him.” He spoke, running his hands up and down my sides, taking my breasts in his hands and groping, kneading at them. I released a moan and almost lost balance on my arms. 

Suddenly, without any kind of warning, he slammed his length into me (a/n: dear god help me i am sinning my father), releasing a high pitched moan from my mouth. His fingers combed through my hair, then grabbed it all in one hand and yanked my head up so my back was pressing into his chest. I yelped, but moaned again as he thrusted deeper. 

“O-oh, my God…” I managed to croak out. J pulled my head back by my hair so now it was resting on his shoulder.

“Do you like that, doll?” He asked huskily in my ear, thrusting into me again. I let out a breathy moan. “Do you like Daddy fucking you from behind, huh? Are you enjoying this?”

“Y-yes, Daddy, I am…” I said in between moans. He had already touched my G-spot and I was near my release already.

“You see, baby girl,” he spoke, lowering both of us onto the bed, “Daddy is very mad at the man not doing me good. But,” he said, running his hand down to my pulsating heat, “Daddy disliked even more the way that man was looking at my baby girl.” His lips sucked onto the skin on my neck, his fingers circled my clit and his cock thrusted into me from behind. I was already out of breath, he was driving me insane. 

Moans kept leaving my mouth as J was grunting and growling in my ear when he started thrusting even faster into me. I released an almost pornographic moan, grabbing the sheets around me.

“Nobody. Can have. My baby girl.” He growls in my ear, sending me over the edge. My whole body shivered as I rode out my orgasm and I felt him release his load into me. My breathing was ragged, but heavy as J pulled his cock out of me and exhaled deeply. I tried to calm down my breathing , sweat leaking everywhere on my body as well as his. 

His hands were on my waist as he turned me around so i was facing him. He kissed my lips with a growl of satisfaction and bit onto my lower lip. 

“Let’s get you cleaned up, baby girl,” he whispered. 


This Isn’t Happening- Chapter 1

She was absolutely certain that Jared freaking Leto was staring at her. Then she shook her head and pinched herself because of course he wasn’t. Was he? No. That’s ridiculous. Just stop. Was he pointing in her direction? She turned her head slowly, trying to see what he was pointing towards, but there was nothing behind her but empty space. The guy he was talking to laughed and Jared lightly punched his arm. Jennifer kept walking down the path, eyes down, focusing on the packed dirt beneath her feet. The fangirl side of her brain was obviously giving her delusions.

Keep reading

Do You Sleep Anymore?

Summary: Phil has insomnia and Dan has bruises on his knuckles.
Word Count: 4916
Warnings: booty sex, punching walls, cussing
Title: Sleep - Citizen
A/N: ok I am working on a SHIT TON of fics rn ok so this one just happened to be finished first, as I was working on this one (or at least the idea) for like a couple months. Sorry I haven’t been able to write as much lately, I’m a bit overstressed due to school, and I literally have a month of school left before I’m graduating and I’m trying very hard to keep above a B in all of my classes so I graduate with an Academic Honors diploma! i hope you guys understand <3 But I would like to dedicate this to both wanksclifford, for helping me out with my ideas for this and telling me this was a good idea, as well as whalefairyfandom12 for keeping my ego up and being an all around wonderful person <3 I love you both and I hope you like this story haha!


There was a breeze wafting through Phil’s window that made him shiver, but he didn’t move to shut it despite the fact that his hands were quivering and his nose felt like ice. The joints of his fingers were sore from gripping the pen for hours on end, and his eyes were burning from the lack of sleep, but yet release refused to come. So he kept writing as if that would stop his thoughts enough to allow him to sink into darkness.

He was longing for it, the dreams, the darkness that came with sweet sleep, and yet it wouldn’t come. He was left with bruised eyes, pale skin, and mussed hair, receiving looks from strangers because he looked like an actual character from the Walking Dead, and that was apparently socially unacceptable. 

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Hurting For A Secret

Derek Hale X Reader 

Word Count: 718

Requested: Anon

Request: Hey I’m sorry I really don’t know how to do this because this is the first time I’m writing a request. I was wondering could you do a Derek Hale imagines where he is dating Jennifer Blake and the reader is in love with him but he doesn’t know. Then Jennifer tries to hurt her because she knows about the reader and the reader thinks she’s gonna die so she finally tells Derek she has feelings for her and you could end it however you want. Also the reader goes to school with the pack. Thank you.

Originally posted by teenwolf--imagines

You and Derek had been friends for years and you had been in love with him for that long too. You were sure that Derek only thought of you as a friend since you were so much younger than him and that was confirmed when he started dating Jennifer Blake, you decided that if he wanted to date her then you would support him and so now you were just his best friend. Jennifer, however, thought that you were a threat and felt like she needed to get rid of you. You and Derek had been friends for ages and there were thing that you did like dragging Derek out or he would never get out of the loft and there were the movie nights that you dragged him into but you never imposed on their nights, you always left when she showed up and you always encouraged him to call her and talk to her.

One day Jeniffer decided to put a stop to your friendship she came around your house and knocked on the door. “oh hi Jennifer.” You smiled as you opened the door “can I help you with something?”
“Yeah, do you mind if I come in?” She asked smiling.
“Sure.” You nodded opening the door. “What’s up?”
“I wanted to ask about you and Derek.” She smiled.
“What about us?” You asked.
“Well I know that you like him, so I wanted to make sure that you knew that he was mine and there is no way that you could take him from me,” Jennifer warned and you frowned.
“I’m not trying to take him from you, he chose you, so you get to have him.” You answered.
“So you admit that you are in love with him.” Jennifer glared.
“What?” You asked.
“You didn’t deny that you were in love with him.” She answered and you stepped back away from her as she took up a threatening stance.
“Well, we’ll have to so something about you.” Jennifer sneered before you thrown backwards and knocked out.

It was a movie night for you and Derek and he was little worried when you didn’t show up, he frowned as he tried to call you but you didn’t pick, you never ignored his calls so now he was very worried, he picked up his phone and keys and left the loft. When he got your house he saw Jennifer’s car and he thought that maybe you both had lost track of time and he calmed down for a second. Then he heard you scream and rushed up to your house, he knew where your spare key was, he opened the door and looked around, he saw Jeniffer standing over you a knife to your throat and the deep cuts in your arms and chest. “Jennifer what are you doing!?” Derek asked and she turned to him, eye widening and then looking over at you.
“She’s doing it… Because… I love you.” You answered tired from both the fighting and blood loss.
“(Y/N)!?” Derek called as your eyes started to close.
“Derek!?” Jennifer asked as she watched push passed her to get to you, he started to take you pain and grabbed his phone calling Scott telling him that he needed to come over and to bring his mum.
“Get out!” He ordered.
“What?” She asked crouching in front of him.
“Get. Out.” He growled his eyes bright red.
“I don’t care just leave.” Derek glared, Jennifer’s face contorted into anger as she got up and left slamming the door behind him.
“It’s going to be okay…” He whispered into your hair as he started to take you pain in hopes to keep you alive until help got there.

That evening you woke up in the hospital bed, you tried to sit up but your arms hurt. “(Y/N)?” You looked to see Derek was sat next to your bed.
“What happened?” You asked.
“Don’t worry about it.” He said gently getting up and guiding you to lay back down “rest.”
“Okay.” You nodded eyes closing, he leant down and kissed your forehead.
“We’re moving all your stuff you going to be safe with me I promise.” He mumbled before sitting down taking your hand in his and rubbing his thumb over it gently.

*Part 2*

Requests and general question!

Luckiest Girl : Spencer Reid

Request: First of “Dance with me” was awesome! (It would make an awesome fic) 😉 and Second I saw you were taking requests and I was wondering if you could please do one with reid where him and his heavily pregnant wife (reader) go to a team event (dinner, wedding, etc) and she goes into labor and spence and the team freak out? Lol sorry that was super long! Thanks so much!

requested by: @frickin-bats

A/N: first off, you are an absolute doll!! Second, I really hope you like it, and feel free to message me if you want something different. I add a little bit after the reader has the baby and is in the hospital and some godmother JJ too.  xx aubree

pairing: Spencer Read x pregnant!reader

warnings: uh, none that I can think of, maybe cussing? who wouldn’t cuss while giving birth. does giving birth count as a warning? lol

word count: 913

(gif is not mine, but it’s so damn cute!)


Originally posted by toyboxboy

Dinner with Spencer’s team was always fun. No matter where you guys went, it was always a night for the books. 

“Spencer!” Y/N called down to her husband. Within seconds, Spencer was next to her.

“Yes, sweetheart. Are you okay?” He looked you up and down making sure you weren’t having your baby. You were nearing your due date, and Spencer was always on edge. You hoped that when the baby did come, he would be in town and not on a case.

“I’m fine, Spence. I need you to zip this up.” You laughed at your husband’s manic expression. 

The longest sigh you’ve ever heard escaped his lips, “Right, okay.” Zipping you up, he knelt down so he was level with your stomach, “Listen little booger, as much as I want to meet you, can you give your mom and I one night with some friends?” He kissed your stomach.

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sourwolfstories recent rereads

List 4

John Hughes Did Not Direct My Life by nascentgalaxies

Stiles and Derek are childhood friends who drifted apart. When Stiles joins the lacrosse team against his will, the universe (with a little help from Laura and Lydia) chooses to push them back together.

Cabbages and Kings by emilyshka

“Hey Derek, why don’t you give this nice young man an oyster menu?”

A voice behind him says, “Thought he was drinking his dinner.”

“Hey! I’ll have you know I am in the middle of a very delicate, um–”

Stiles trails off as he turns to look at the most beautiful man he has ever seen, who has been shucking and plating oysters behind the bar the whole time he’s been sitting there. He was way more stressed than he’d thought if he hadn’t noticed that.

Reach Out by weathervaanes

Or, In Which Stiles Falls in Love Twice…With the Same Person


Stiles sees the flyer on his very last day at Beacon Hills High School. It’s hanging, unassuming, in the hall near the front entrance along with bulletins and other flyers, advertisements, posters for free student concerts, but the fact that the word “sex” is written in a font two times larger than the rest of the page catches his attention.

It’s an advice hotline for a whole range of things, from teenage angst to how to deal with your parents telling you you’re adopted and a whole mess in the middle. Stiles thinks it’s funny, though, that they offer advice on sexuality and sex education. It makes sense on the one hand, since high school sex ed does jack shit for actual learning, but anyone who really wants to know stuff has an infinite source of knowledge right on their phone—the internet.

So it starts off as a joke.

Anything to make you smile by Oywiththepoodlesalready

In which Derek gets a new roommate whose best friend takes to practically living on their couch pretty quickly.
Which wouldn’t be a problem except for the fact that said best friend is the same guy who’s been holding Derek’s table at the library hostage for the better part of a month.
And, oh yeah, there’s also this thing where Derek might maybe be the tiniest bit in love with him.
Easy peasy.

This Might Be Irony by thepsychicclam

Stiles and Derek have been close friends since the Hale siblings moved in next door after their parents’ death. But Derek’s in the popular group, he’s a star baseball player, and he dates popular Pep Squad captain Jennifer Blake. Stiles doesn’t have any of that, just his skateboard and a hopeless crush on Derek (oh yeah, and his Vote Lydia Martin Prom Queen button). As prom and the baseball state championship grow closer, Stiles and Derek start rekindling their friendship.

And it all begins with two white boards.

No Homo by RemainNameless

Stiles’ sophomore year starts something like this:
3 FourLokos
+ 1 peer-pressuring cat
- 1 best bro to end all best bros
= 1 Craigslist ad headline that reads “str8 dude - m4m - strictly platonic”.
Derek is the fool who replies.

It Starts when You’re Around by strobelighted

“Earth to Derek. You okay, man?”

Derek’s eyes are drawn back to the guy in front of him, who’s starting to look more worried now.

“I –” he starts, then swallows against the dryness. “Who are you?”

or, Derek gets amnesia.

Amor Fati by alocalband

When Stiles gets thrown into the bank vault about twenty minutes after him, Derek isn’t even surprised.

As it turns out, neither is Stiles.

Hey Baby

For @dadharbour, @elevenknope, @stevemossington, and @eggo-my-leggo (and no, it’s not what you think)

August 1987

“Ta-da!” Steve said, jumping cautiously onto the fallen tree.  Jonathan looked at him, then at the creek, then back at him, mouth falling open.

“No.  No way.”

Steve’s shoulders dropped and he pouted.  His puppy dog eyes had nothing on Nancy’s but Jonathan looked away just in case.  There was no way he was changing his mind.  “Why not?”

Jonathan looked at him with wide eyes, gesturing to the tree.  “Because for starters, that tree is going to snap in half and we’re both going to fall into that creek, and I am not going to the hospital just because you want to reenact a scene from Dirty Dancing.”

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hi! yesterday, i flew into new york in the morning and then got the chance to stagedoor dear evan hansen! i met ben, olivia (who was on for zoe), will, jennifer, kristolyn, rachel, and michael. and OH MY GOSH THEY WERE AMAZING! ben came out first and was the sweetest thing ever. i’m really short so after he talked to me for a minute, he reached over my head to grab another playbill, and HE TOUCHED MY HEAD. he didn’t mean to and he apologized for it but it was so amazing i literally started crying. michael was so friendly and he was telling me a story of how is twelve year old daughter wanted the shirt that said “kinky!” on it and he made eye contact when he was talking to me and it was amazing. olivia and kristolyn were the SWEETEST THINGS EVER TOO! will was so animated and so funny, too. the moms of the cast were literally so motherly with everyone they met. when someone would talk to them they would do like a motherly smile and look into your eyes, and it was fantastic. but yeah, i cried a lot yesterday after that.

The Little Things

5 times Derek notices things about Stiles he has never noticed before.

1. The tiny specs of colour in their eyes.  

For a moment, Derek was floating. He was weightless, mind adrift. And then suddenly, it was like he was dropped into a pool of cold water and he was being thrown into consciousness.

His eyes snapped open, breath leaving his lungs. He barely caught the fist swinging towards his face, the small, cold knuckles swarmed in his own collaused palm with a painful slap of skin against skin. He looked above him, eyes leaving the two hands, and found Stiles staring down at him. It was just as much of a shock waking up as it was seeing cold, stomach dropping fear glistening in Stiles’ eyes. His face was illuminated green, shadowed from the prominent cheekbones and ridiculously long eyelashes. The lights around them were flickering on and off, making Derek’s sense of his surroundings even more off.

He looked around, dazed and confused because what the actual fuck? He couldn’t figure out what was going on. What happened and why was Stiles staring at him like he’s dropped from the fucking sky?

Suddenly, it all came rushing back like a tidal wave.

“Where is she?” He shakily asked after he glanced out of the elevator he was laying in, looking at the dimmed and abandoned hospital ward.

“Jennifer?” Stiles croaked above him, voice raspy like he’d been crying. His eyes didn’t look red, but Derek did find himself unable to take his eyes off them - doe and big. “Gone— with Scott’s mum.”

Derek felt his stomach twist uneasily, guilt swarming his gut. “She took her?”

“Yeah,” Stiles nodded. “And if that’s not enough of a kick to the balls, Scott left with Deucalion. Okay? So, we gotta get you out of here—” he could hear the teenagers breathing picking up, noting the anxious way he was sparing nervous glances down the end of the hall. His wrist was still in Derek’s hand, shaking. “The police are coming right now, and we gotta get you the hell out-ta here—”

“Woah,” Derek cut him off, sitting up and ignoring the scream from his muscles.  He felt so impossibly drained. “What about Cora?”

“She’s fine,” Stiles replied, quick and high. “She’s with Peter and Isaac. Look, we gotta go, okay? Can you stand? Did she break anything or—”

“I’m fine,” Derek answered shortly. He wasn’t fine, but he wasn’t broken or physically injured. Maybe mind-fucked and internally scarred by the fact that he was sleeping with a goddamn Darach who while she wasn’t in his bed, was actually out killing people for sacrifices. He was more worried about Cora at the moment, but Jennifer was large play in his mind - especially now she has Stiles’ dad and Scott’s mum.

“Okay, good,” Stiles nodded and he didn’t waste another moment before he was grabbing Derek by the shoulders and pulling - non helpfully - Derek to his feet. He stumbled when he was vertical, blood rushing to his head like he’d been hanging upside down instead of laying on the floor. “Woah—” Stiles rushed to his close side, hands everywhere and eyes tracking him. “You okay, big guy?”

Not by a long shot, Derek wanted to say. “I’m fine,” he gruffed instead. It was obvious Stiles didn’t believe him, his brown eyes unconvinced and shining evident disbelief, but he didn’t mention it. Instead, he nodded, breathing shakily. They were at eye level, eyes directly looking into one another and if it was under different circumstances, Derek would have taken the time to admire the fire behind the teens eyes, or the way lighter shades of brown sparkled along side the dark, glowing whiskey. But right now, the circumstances were shit, and they needed to get out.

“Let’s go,” Derek said, and neither of them wasted another moment before they turned and ran.


2. How someone looks when they think nobody can see them.

Everything was better now. Cora was cured and currently out of town. She’d left only two days after she was well enough to stand, calming telling Derek she couldn’t stay because everything here reminded her of pain and misery. Derek couldn’t disagree with her, or make her stay. But he also declined her offer to go with him, knowing he needed to stay with his pack and some Hale member had to stay here. But things were better. The sheriff, Melissa and Chris were rescued and safe. Scott, Allison and Stiles got their parents back. The sacrifices worked, or, at least that’s what Derek was told.

He didn’t believe they worked, didnt believe everything was alright. The sacrifices gave them the location of their parents, but it’s physically and mentally scarred them for life. The darkness around their hearts, as Deaton explained, was perminant. It was a scar, ugly and unremovable. Derek had no idea what it felt like, but he imagined it was like a hole in your chest, a big black void of nothing, just gaping like a bloodless bullet wound. He assumed it felt like grief, consuming and a consistent ache or feeling.

Derek couldn’t imagine what it actually felt like, pooling in his chest continuously.

The pack meeting came to a stuttering end about half an hour before the members began to leave. Lydia and Allison went first, claiming they needed shopping as Lydia was sure it was the only way to properly cheer Allison up. Derek could see the frustration in Allison’s form, the aftermath of the sacrifice turning her paranoid, saying she can keep seeing the ghost of her dead aunt.

“Hey, Scott,” Stiles said, catching the doe-eyed true alpha. They were standing in the middle of the loft, Scott having just began to make his way to the loft door. He turned around on Stiles’ call and waited for him to continue. “Are you still free today? I was wondering if we could hang out, I need to tell you—”

“Sorry, buddy,” Scott cut him off, and the drop in Stiles’ hopeful expression told Derek the younger teen knew he was being ditched. “I was gonna hang out with Kira, do some history notes together,” Scott looked at Kira over his shoulder, the small girl sending him a sweet wave when she noticed him looking. Scott, like a lovesick middle-schooler, waved back with doe eyes. He turned back to Stiles, talking in a low voice so no one could hear, stupidly forgetting he’s surrounded by werewolves with enhanced hearing, “she’s finally noticing me, Stiles. I know you wanted to hang out, and we will — I promise! But, I really like her, like, like her. I haven’t felt like this about anyone since…” He trailed off and the small ‘Allison’ didn’t go unheard.

Stiles shook his head, lips pulling up into a smile that was so painfully forced. “It’s fine. Totally cool. You go, write notes and woo her with your puppy eyes. I can talk to you another time.”

Scott grinned. “Thank you!” He clapped a hand on Stiles’ shoulder. “You’re the best, Stiles. I promise we’ll hang out tomorrow, okay?”

Stiles nodded, muttering, “Okay. Sure.”

But Scott was already turning away, going to Kira and it took all of Derek’s willpower not to grab Scott by the collar and drag him to Stiles’ feet and force him to apologise to his best friend that so obviously needs him.

The second Scott was out the door, it was like Stiles was physically punched. Derek watched his face morph into a mixture of pain, anxiety and hurt. He wrapped his arms around his middle, cuddling himself as if it would give him some source of comfort. Derek could tell his eyes were trained on the floor, despite standing behind him. The angle of his head was down and bowed, and Derek officially declared Scott the biggest oblivious idiot in the pack. How could he not see? How could he not see the obvious signs of his best friends suffering? Derek has watched Stiles turn up to meeting after meeting since the sacrifices, watching his skin get paler and tighter from exhaustion. The purple half moons under his eyes becoming horrifically prominant, standing out against the white of his complexion. His hair was hazardous, sprawled in every direction like it’s been pulled with stress.

Stiles was suffering, and Derek could see him suffering in silence.

Derek didn’t know if Stiles realised he was there, especially considering it was his loft, but Stiles seemed to be in his own head. He seemed unconscious that Derek was standing behind him, watching and observing the way he’s curling in on himself like a wounded child. The way waves of misery and hurt are rolling off him and smacking Derek like a physically tsunami. Realisation dawned on him that Stiles wasn’t okay, and that everything wasn’t better now just because no one was in immediate danger.

Derek moved, the floor beneath his feet moaning and Stiles spun around so fast Derek was surprised he managed to stay standing. Stiles’ eyes were wide, swimming with surprise and also a hint of embarrassment, which had Derek almost frowning because, why?

“Are you okay?”

Stiles nodded, and suddenly, it was like a masked was slipped on. His face became neutral, emotionless and all the pain shining through the exhausted whiskey eyes was covered like a shield. “Yeah. I’m fine.”

Derek nodded back. He didn’t have another chance to speak to Stiles, for the brunette teenager was grabbing his bag by the strap and darting out of the loft like a streak of light.


3. Real meanings behind spoken words.  

Derek didn’t know how it had come to this. He didn’t know what he did to deserve this, but through out his entire life, he’s never been so terrified. Even when he watched his family burn, or spent years hiding away in New York, grieving with Laura, or when he came back to this god-forsaken town to find his older sister dead at the hands of his psychopathic uncle. He has never felt as truly scared as he is now.

He was standing in Deaton’s veterinary. It was cold, the chill from outside seeping into the dark room. Scott was leaning against a metal table, hand on his recently healed stomach. There was a large blood patch on his t-shirt, the wet, sodden fabric ruined by the gaping hole in the middle. He looked close to tears, and that wasn’t because he was stabbed and basically had death flash in front of his eyes. No, Derek knows he’s close to tears because of the teenager laying on the table opposite him.

Stiles had been unconscious when Derek ran in from the rain. The teen then, however, had been laying on his side on the cold floor, Deaton standing above him with a needle in his hand like a mad scientist out of a horror movie.

At first, Derek had demanded answers. He wanted to know what the fuck was going on and how the hell Scott, the true alpha, had managed to get stabbed by his hyperactive human best friend. Except once Derek had lifted Stiles onto the table, his body disturbingly lax in his arms, Deaton had then explained that Stiles was not only Stiles, but actually possessed by a thousand year old Japanese spirit.

It had been quite a shock. Sure, Derek had his suspicions, but no one had confirmed it to him and to hear Deaton tell him, when Stiles was drugged to unconsciousness and Scott was recovering from a stab wound to the stomach, it made Derek want to throw up.

After ten minutes of eery silence, Derek asked the only question he was sure he could voice without vomiting. “What do we do?”

His voice broke the quiet like a sledgehammer on a sheet of glass; shattering it. Scott physically flinched when he did, and for the first time in a long time, Derek saw the vulnerability in the True Alpha.

“The wolf lichen should knock him out for a while, and when he comes around he should be in control of himself,” Deaton answered.

Derek looked at him. “And what happens if Stiles isn’t in control when he wakes up?”

“We’ll deal with that if and when it happens. For now, we need to assume the wolf lichen will work and the fox will be effected.”

“Is it going to hurt him?” Scott asked, his eyes still locked on Stiles’ form. When no one answered, he looked up and directly at Deaton. “Is the wolf lichen going to hurt Stiles?”

“No,” Deaton said. “It won’t harm his human side, only the fox inside him.”

“Then why is he still passed out?” Scott shouted, a growl itching into his tone.

Deaton seemed unfazed, as usual. “Because the wolf lichen will act as a sedative until the fox is weak enough for Stiles to take control again. He’ll be fine, Scott.” His last words sounded flimsy but it was the best they had.

“Okay, so assuming Stiles is in control, what should we do? The wolf lichen isn’t permeant, and if the fox is as powerful as you said it was, then it isn’t just going to sit back and let Stiles have his life back again,” Derek said, and once the words left his mouth, he felt like he was going to be sick again.

He looked at Stiles, and instantly he regretted it. The teenager was still passed out, lax and limp on the table. His head was turned to the side, face in their direction. His skin was white, eyes bruised and purple. His lips were cracked, colourless like the rest of his complexion. His hair was stuck to his forehead in wet curls like seaweed washed up on a pale shore. It was scary, to see Stiles so still. In all the years Derek had known him, Stiles was a constant flurry of movement and colour but now, he was like a grey form of stationary misery.

“How can we help him?” Derek asked. “How do we stop whats inside him?”

Deaton shook his head. “I don’t know enough,” he said.

“Well learn something!” Derek snapped. “We need to help him.”

“I know,” Deaton said, and it almost sounded like a sigh.

“We need to get it out,” Scott murmured. “We need to get that thing out of him.”

Deaton nodded. “I’ll see if I know any contacts who might be able to help. I recommend speaking to Chris, he might know more about this than me.”

“I’ll do it,” Derek said, knowing Scott wasn’t up for anything else tonight. “You should go home, Scott. Get some rest-”

Scott’s head snapped up at the mention of his name. “W-What? No! I can't— you don’t… I need to help—”

“Scott, you had a sword pushed through your stomach. You need to rest and heal—”

Scott pushed off the table. “I’ve healed! I—”

Scott,” Derek said, voice rumbling. If he was an alpha still, he knew he would have flashed his red eyes, but he didn’t bother now. “Go home, we’ll phone you if anything changes,” he added, “I promise.”

Scott looked like he was going to protest, but then he must have come to his senses and realised he needed to go home.

“Call Kira when you go,” Deaton said. “Make sure she’s okay.”

Derek doesn’t know who Kira is or what happened to her, and if he was honest with himself then he didn’t want to know. The only thought that connected in his mind was if Stiles had hurt her? If the thing inside his head had hurt someone?

Derek cut out of his thoughts when Scott began to head towards the door, looking over his shoulder ever three seconds, eyes on his best friend as if walking out the door without him is like he’s saying good bye. The door shut behind him with a deafening silence.

“Take me to Eichen,”

Derek spun on his heel as fast as light, ears ringing with the croaking voice.

Stiles was awake, eyes open and shining through the whiskey orbs was such raw fear that Derek could literally taste it on his tongue. He hadn’t even realised Stiles was awake, and now he listened, he could hear the racing beats of his heart.

“What?” Derek asked, brain not fully processing Stiles’ words.

“Take me to Eichen House. I can’t be around you guys—”

“No way in hell are you going there,” Derek said adamantly.


“Stiles, Derek is right. I don’t think—”

“I have to. I heard what you said about the wolf lichen, and I know it isn’t going to hold forever. You can’t just let me roam the streets. I might— it might hurt someone. Please, I need to do this.”

Derek sighed. His chest was aching. “Stiles, Eichen isn’t safe,”

“It doesn’t matter. If I’m in there, so is the damn thing possessing me. Everyone will be safe, and it will give you guys more time to figure something out.”

“We’re going to kill it, Stiles,” Derek said, voice more solid than it had been all night. He was confident that Stiles was going to get out of this alive, and no way in hell was Derek going to let the brave, stupid, idiotic spaz go down this way after everything he’s been through. “You’re going to be okay.”

“You can’t,” Stiles whispered. His voice cracked, croaking when he spoke.

“Stiles, we can and we will,” Derek snarled.

“How?” Stiles asked, and then Derek noticed the glistening in his eyes and the salty tang to the air. “How do you destroy a monster without becoming one?”

The words hit Derek so hard he had to take a physical step back. He didn’t know exactly what Stiles was implying, but the words were cold and sharp.


Was Stiles implying that Derek was a monster? Or that Stiles himself is a monster? The questions flew back and forth like a boomerang, spinning inside his head.

“Stiles,” Derek began, but prominently cut himself off. What the fuck was he meant to say to that?

Please,” Stiles begged, sounding so small and hurt it physically wounded Derek like a punch to the chest.

Derek sighed. He looked to Deaton, who met his eyes with a familiar gaze. Derek looked back to Stiles, who was staring at him with a hopeful and desperate look that could have made the newly made beta crumble, even in alpha form.

“Call your father,” Derek said. “You need his consent first.”


4 . Emotions they are trying to hide.

When Derek next saw Stiles, it was a week after the Nogitsune was diminished and two friends were buried in the ground. The remaining pack were damaged, the entire pack and its balance fractured, possibly beyond repair.

Scott was heart broken, internally destroyed from having his first love die in his arms. Derek could relate, horribly, and he knew that kind of pain didn’t just go away with a few good nights sleep and a lot of hugs. It was scarring, deep and un-healable.

Lydia was just as distraught, though her’s was less visible. She had been the one to plan the meeting at Derek’s loft, insisting they needed to get back to some sort of normalcy. She’d turned up the following day, Kira at her side, saying the pack meeting was happening and everyone was going to be there.

At first, Derek didn’t believe her or the idea that everyone would come. Grieving was hard, and for most people, it was actually easier to do alone. Or at least, that’s what people believed when they were grieving. It was like dark cloud hanging over you, and your constant worry was getting  everyone caught in your own storm. Derek knew what it was like to hide away in grief, he’d done it twice before and he was sure as hell not going to criticise the pack for doing it themselves. The only member of the pack Derek had actively seen was Isaac, and that was only because he’d moved back in with him. He didn’t comment, the first night Isaac turned up at the lofts door with a duffel bag and red eyes, he only opened the door wider and offered his bed, knowing the beta needed it.

Scott and Isaac arrived together, looking hunched and sad. They barely said a hello to everyone before dropping down on the sofa.

Stiles was the last to arrive, and when he did walk through the door, Derek could have cried. Stiles was the definition of mentally broken. His physical appearance was haunting, from his translucent skin and exhausted eyes to his sluggish movements and sharp cheekbones. He walked with hunched shoulders, like he was carrying the weight of the world on the producing bones. Lydia approached him as he crossed the loft and immediately pulled him into a hug. Derek noted the raise in heartbeat and how Stiles stiffened like a plank, muscles stiff. Lydia didn’t remove herself, and eventually, Stiles sagged against her, shaking hands wrapping around her back and forehead dropping to her shoulder. Derek shoved down the swell of jealously and was instead thankful that Stiles was even there.

When Lydia detached herself, she grabbed Stiles by the hand and guided him to the sitting area. Stiles situated himself in the empty love seat, looking small as he curled in on himself against the mountain of pillows.

“What are we doing here?” Scott had asked, voice small and cracking.

“We need to heal, and we should do it together. Allison wouldn’t want us like this, she’d want us to carry on with life. We need to find some normalcy, so we’re going to watch a movie together and eat some food like we used to.”

No one had argued when Lydia put a Disney film on the TV and curled up on the couch beside Scott. After that day, things did improve. The pack began to heal, slowly but surely. The meetings and Friday movie nights became routine again. Everyone was beginning to fall back into place, sealing the cracks that had formed and repairing the damage done. It wasn’t perfect, and it was never going to be. They had lost a large, vital and irreplaceable member of their pack and lives. It was never going to be the same, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t be happy and heal.

Derek doesn’t know what urged him to go over to the Stilinski house hold a few weeks later, but he’s bloody glad he went. He was barely a few feet away from the grass below Stiles’ bedroom window when he heard the familiar sound of a faint sob. The sound, despite being quiet and muffled, sent Derek’s wolf into overdrive and he was leaping up onto the window ledge and climbing inside before he could really think about it.

He was startled to find the bedroom empty. The first thing that hit him was the scent of misery and guilt, so strong and suffocating as it clung to every inch and object in the room. Derek could barely stop himself from whining, unable to understand why Stiles had to suffer through this alone.

The next soft cry snapped him out of his thoughts. He was following the sound before the next cry followed, leading him to the bathroom where he found the door wide open and Stiles sitting under the sink.

The teen hiccups when he looks up, tears streaming down his cheeks like small rivers and eyes puffy and red, swollen with misery.  He’s curled in on himself, knees up his chest and trembling arms wrapped around himself as if he could make himself unseen.

Derek felt his heart literally break.

“Stiles,” he whispered, approaching slowly and cautiously. When he was close enough, he crouched down almost at eye level with the shaking male that was no more than a child. Now he was closer, he could see the sharp lines of his prominent cheekbones, the colourless lips disgusting with the sickly pale skin. Underneath the blood-shot eyes were bruises of obvious exhaustion.

Derek wasn’t expecting Stiles to launch himself into Derek’s chest, but he reacted quickly, taking in the sobbing teen and wrapping his arms protectively around him. Stiles cried into his chest, wailed and trembled. His pain was pouring out, coming so unexpectedly that Derek cursed himself for not seeing it sooner. Not addressing the pain he had suspected Stiles was in, should have acted on instinct and the duty of a friend, because it was obvious Stiles needed a shoulder to cry on.

“You’re okay,” Derek murmured, rubbing a hand up and down the shaking knobs of his spine. “You’re gonna be okay, Stiles. You’re not alone, it’s not your fault. Breath with me, calm down. Everyone’s okay, everyone’s fine.”

Stiles choked a sob against his chest, hands wrung in his shirt, gripping tight and desperate. He sounded so fragile, so hurt and broken that Derek could barely blink back the tears in his own eyes. He’d never felt this sad and distraught since the fire, and the time before that when Paige was dying in his arms. But even then, it didn’t hurt like this. This was worse, deeper like a never healing knife wound. This hurt more because it’s been going on for weeks, Stiles has been crumbling and suffering alone because Derek was too weak and pathetic to act on his feelings and help Stiles.

Derek doesn’t know how long he was sitting on the Stilinski bathroom floor, cradling and supporting his pack mate. But when Stiles finally found the breath to sit back, he looked worse than before. His eyelashes were clumped together, jet black with tears. His cheeks were wet and tinted red. Eyes sore and raw. He looked open and vulnerable, ruined and battered like a old toy that has been abandoned after years of careless play.

With a gentle touch, Derek brushed the pad of his thumb under one of Stiles’ eyes, wiping away the falling tear. Stiles was staring back at him, whiskey orbs bright in the florescent bathroom lights.

“What are you doing here?” Stiles whispered, voice cracking and raspy.

Derek flashed him a small smile, hoping it would transfer some sort of comfort to the aching teen. “I came to see if you were okay,” he replied, tone as gentle as the hand rubbing Stiles’ shoulder with small circles. “You’re not okay, are you?”

Stiles continued to stare at him with unblinking eyes. He opened his mouth as if to say something, and Derek would bet his right arm he was going to lie 'I’m fine’. But then his mouth snapped closed, lip trembling and eyes filling with a fresh pool of tears. He shook his head, small and shakily.

Derek didn’t hesitate to pull Stiles back into his chest, arms winding around his back for security. Stiles curled into his chest without protest, small sobs starting again.

“It’s okay. It’s okay not to be okay,” Derek whispered into the soft, messy mop of brown hair. “You’ll heal, it’ll get better and one day you can say you’re fine and won’t have to lie about it. But it’s okay that today is not that day.”

They moved into the bedroom sometime later, laying down on the bed. Derek wasn’t planning on staying, but when Stiles grasped his wrist and looked at him with those big, hopeful and scared eyes, he didn’t hesitate to kick off his shoes and climb under the covers next to him.

Stiles was the same as he had been at the pack meetings. He hadn’t changed, good nor bad. He was still keep his distance from the pack. Still looking pale and sick, tired and wary, jumping at every sudden and small sound. It pained Derek to see him so uncomfortable in his own skin.

Stiles was falling asleep next to him, breaths deep and soft, but Derek could see him resisting. In the dim light of the room, Stiles kept desperatly blinking his eyes open in the will to stay awake. Derek couldn’t stand it any longer, looking at the exhausted face and sunken eyes in so much need for rest. He grabbed Stiles’ hand, the skin cold against his own and small. Stiles’ eyes met his, and Derek squeezed his hand gently.

“Go to sleep,” he whispered into the silence. “I’ll be here when you wake up.”

The short reassurance seemed to calm Stiles somewhat. His tense body lost some of the stiffness and he relaxed slightly against the mattress, but not by much. He was still too wired to fall asleep, so Derek took charge.

He moved closer, pulling Stiles into him gently. He kept their one hands connected, pressed between their chests and he wound the other one around Stiles’ neck to hold his head, running his fingers gently through the soft strands of hair at the back of his head. The small, comforting gestures caused Stiles to drop like a hot rock into the abyss of sleep.

Derek followed soon after, rocking and comforted by the steady heartbeat and rhythmic breathing.


5. The melody of someone’s voice.

“What was it?”

“There’s a lot of myths,” Derek began, looking up from the locker room floor to Stiles, who was standing a few feet away. “About how people can be turned into a werewolf. Usually, it’s a bite, and there’s one about rain water.”

“Rain water out of the puddle of a werewolf’s print,” Stiles said, nodding.

“There’s another one,” Derek continued. “A way that someone can be turned by a scratch, if the claws go deep enough. I dreamed…I dreamed about Kate. She wasn’t dead, she was alive, she was a were but I don’t know which one. She didn’t die when Peter killed her, she turned, and she was in my loft.”

“Derek,” Stiles sat down on the bench opposite him, looking at him with concern, “if this is all just a dream, then why do you look so worried?”

Derek shook his head in small movements. “Because I don’t remember waking up. So…so tell me, how do you know? How do you know if you’re still dreaming?”

“Fingers. In dreams you have extra fingers,” Stiles replied. Derek didn’t hesitate a moment before he snatched Stiles by the wrist and brought his hand up.

6 fingers.

Suddenly, the world folded like an envelope. Stiles was gone, as was the locker room. He was standing in his loft, smoke and darkness around him. His chest burned, fire and pain burning through him. He dropped to his knees, hands hovering over the sudden gun shot wound at the bottom of his chest.

He looked down at the blood stain. “It’s real,” he whispered to himself.

Looking up, he saw a figure approach and appear in the white fog around him.

“You’re real,”

“That’s right, Derek,” Kate replied as she stalked forward, hips swaying and gun loose at her side in her fingers. “And if seeing me is a surprise, watch this,”

Suddenly, like a werewolf would, her face began to morph and shift. Only, she wasn’t shifting into a wolf. Her eyes glowed green, teeth canines growing and skin turning blue with black smudges. She let out a roar, deep and loud.


The voice that spoke didn’t belong. It wasn’t here, it was distance, like an echo. Derek barely heard it over the deafening roar.

“Derek, wake up,”

He couldn’t pin point who it was or where they were. Black spots were dancing in his vision. His head felt cloudy, ears muffled. Kate was watching him, Kate was alive and he couldn’t breath.

“Derek! Wake up!” The voice was more urgent, pleading.

His lungs stopped working. He was suffocating. He couldn't—

“Wake up!”

Derek snapped into consciousness with a breathless gasp. The first thing he saw was the ceiling, and then he was jackknifing into a sitting position. His skin was crawling, tingling and too tight. His hand went to his chest where the gaping hole was no longer there, where his t-shirt was no longer sticky with blood. His lungs were clenched, muscles tort and refusing to expand. His breath was short, neck cold with sweat.


The small, unsure voice sent him into a spiral of confusion. His head snapped in the direction to see Stiles sitting up next to him, eyes wide and skin white pale in the moon light that glowed in from his bedroom window.

Derek tried to calm his breathing, to find some kind of steady pattern or rhythm, but he couldn’t.

A hand grabbed his own, another one coming to rest on his shoulder.

“Derek,” the voice was steadier this time, more stern and commanding. Stiles’ eyes met his, the whiskey colour gleaming with a determination that had been missing for so long. “Breath with me. Hold you’re breath.”

It wasn’t helping. This had never happened, in all of Derek’s traumatic years, he’d never had a panic attack and he hated this. He couldn’t breath and the lack of oxygen filling his lungs only made him panic more. It was a vicious circle, no way out, trapped and—

A pair of lips covered his. He was so startled and surprised he didn’t even register the intake of breath he stopped. He sighed into the kiss, melting against the lips against his. Something warm and pleasant fluttered in his chest, replacing the recent panic and tight feeling. It was over as soon as it started and Stiles was pulling away.

Silence settled. Derek was speechless, awed and embarrassed. He’d panicked like that in front of Stiles, something that made him open and vulnerable - something he’d tried so hard to mask. His eyes were conflicted between looking at Stiles’ lips or his eyes, both open and unreadable. Stiles was staring right back at him, his own breathing deep as if the kiss had surprised him as much as it had Derek.

The wolf couldn’t stand it anymore. He grabbed Stiles by the cheek and collided their lips together again. This one was better, longer, deeper. It was passionate, sweet and sour, like burnt sugar. It was captivating, sending tingles down Derek’s spine. Stiles’ lips moved with his, as if they had done this a million times. What surprised him most was Stiles was kissing back with as much if not more enthusiasm.

The next time they pulled away was because they were breathless. Derek took in Stiles’ appearance with one look. He was still pale and he looked just as tired as he was hours ago before they fell asleep, but now his cheeks were tinted with a healthy red glow, eyes dilated and lips swollen and pink.

“You like me?” Stiles whispered, breaking the silence that was only filled by their heavy breathing.

Derek smiled and nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, I do.”

Stiles smiled back, a small action that had been absent for too long and made Stiles look hypnotising-ly beautiful. “I like you too. I like you a lot.”

“Good,” Derek replied, pulling him in for another hungry and desperate kiss. “You’re it for me, Stiles.” He whispered against the teens lips. “You’re everything.”

They were healing, Derek decided. And now, they could heal together.

— fin.

Void - part 4

Series summary: Reader has lost her memory and Sam and Dean try to find a way to get her life back.

Summary, part 4: Fractions of the past and of hearts.

Characters/pairing: Reader x Dean (eventually), Sam, Crowley, Cas

Word count: ~1700 (Oh, a short one!)

Warnings: angst, mild language, fire, mentions of (past side) character deaths, tiny bits of fluff if you look really hard

Author’s note:  For catching up: part 1, part 2, part 3.

I know it’s short - I’m sorry! The rest are more lengthy, I promise!

There’s plenty of room on the taglist, so give me a shout if you want on it. :-) Tags at the end. As always, I’d like to hear what you think, so a line or two would be much appreciated!

This is where we left off (from part 3):

You heard your family’s screams, heard the baby crying but you couldn’t get to them. You felt the heat from the flames and the despair as you run out of the house you grew up in. It was like you lived it all over again, lost them all over again. You lifted your legs to the chair and hugged your knees, trying to hide from the pain. You heard mumbled words and chairs scraping the floor, but it was like you were under water. Everything else was distant. It was just you, all alone and more lost than ever.

You came slowly back to reality. There was a hand on your back, gently rubbing in circles. You tried to wipe the tears away, but you knew you’d still look puffy-eyed and flushed. You sat straighter and faced Dean. He leaned his elbows on his knees and rubbed his stubble with his left hand. His eyes glistened like he too had been crying and he looked just as sad as you felt.

“I’m sorry I punched you”, you blurted.

He looked surprised at first, but then smiled. “You still punch like a girl.”

No I don’t! you wanted to say but burst into desperate laugh instead. Dean joined you a few seconds later, eyes crinkling at the corners and your heart thudded. It was adorable. I think I’m adorable, Dean’s voice said in your head. Aren’t we cocky, you heard yourself answer. That made you laugh harder and it felt so good after the crying that you kept laughing much longer than necessary. Dean’s eyes twinkled when he looked at you.

“I’ve missed your laugh.”

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anonymous asked:

A dark!Stiles sterek fic that I've never written: The pack is tracking down Jennifer Blake, a darach, who has been making human sacrifices. They find her in the middle of the woods drawing energy from the nemeton, but they interrupt and one of the pack kills her. The energy that had been drawn out needs a vessel and it recognizes Stile's spark, so it moves into him. Stiles gains immense power but he also inherits the darkness that taints it. Bad shit happens.

But yeah dark!Stiles is my fav and feel like I’ve read every fic out there. So I hope this inspires more 😭

Oooh! I love the idea of this. Mostly I love the idea that Derek doesn’t even realise the darach’s spark has migrated into Stiles until they’re at least a few months into a relationship. 

Things have been going well. Derek is cautiously happy. This thing with Stiles feels good, it feels healthy, and Stiles is everything Derek has always wanted, and always secretly believed he never deserved. Derek’s working hard at not self-sabotaging this relationship, because he wants a future with Stiles. 

He likes waking up in the loft and knowing Stiles is with him. He likes hear him pottering around in the kitchen, or the bathroom, or still snoring and snuffling gently next to Derek. 

And then, one morning, Derek’s still dozing when he hears the shower turning on, and the spray of water hitting the screen. He smiles to himself, eyes still closed, as Stiles swears at the cold water. Because Stiles never waits for it to warm up. He’s an idiot. 

For a few moments there’s silence, and then Stiles starts to hum, and then sing. 

And it’s nothing. It should be nothing. Just a weird little tune that Derek shouldn’t even know, except he does. He’s heard it before. Jennifer used to sing it too. 

She laughed once when he asked what song it was. 

I made it up for you, she told him, and laughed as he kissed her. 

And in the shower, Stiles is singing it. 

Derek’s blood runs cold.


A/N: this is really rushed, i’m sorry for the delay and if it sucks.

word count: 1k?

pairing: christoffer x female reader (sorry!)



You could’ve paid good money right now for having an identical twin, that’s how much you wanted to skip the party and stay home binge watching something that you’ve already seen four times. The truth was that you didn’t, so as days went by agonizingly fast, you found yourself at Eva’s place getting ready.

Vilde and Eva were still picking dresses when you decided to sit down next to Chris. You couldn’t help but let out a small sigh.

”What’s up girl?” She asked, actually looking concerned.

”This party stresses me out a little. I would rather be home than here, but can’t help it can I?” You were staring at Vilde, who was probably blabbering about just how dreamy is William.

”Sure you can, but Vilde and Sana will kill you. I wouldn’t want to see Sana mad to be honest, she would probably be quite scary then.”

”Yeah” was all that you could say, before Chris went on.

”It’s going to be okay, you know? Flirt with my name twin and try to get his hot friends hook up with me if I fail in it.” She said with a wink, earning a laugh from you. She never failed to make you feel better.

”Uhhuh, got you.”

Few seconds later Vilde and Eva announced that they were ready as well and that you could all leave now.


The place where the part was held at wasn’t that far away, so it took you only 10 minutes to get there by foot, much to Vilde’s dismay. She wanted someone to drive so she didn’t have to walk in her incredible high heels for a party, her words not yours.

Vilde walked up and rang the bell a few times, before someone opened it. Neither one of you recognized the boy, but Chris immediately started to flirt with the stranger only making Sana roll her eyes and walk inside. You gave a quick look to Eva and Vilde, before shrugging and joining Sana inside.

You were glad to find out that the party wasn’t huge, since crowds freaked you out sometimes. You had still managed to lose all your friends in the matter of seconds, making you groan under your breath memories flooding back from the first party you had attended with Vilde. Christoffer was there too, hell, you had even flirted with him a little and had enjoyed it. If you were honest, it scared you a lot to be around him. There had to be a reason all the girls were drooling for him after all?

You pushed the thought aside, making your way to the table where all the drinks were. A grimace found its way on your face when you saw the liqueurs that there was, they all sucked. Even so, you started to make your own drink when you felt someones arms wrap around you. Your reflexes kicked in, making you literally kick the person.

You turned around, only to see Chris on the floor groaning in pain. You felt somewhat happy that it was him who got kicked.

”We really need to talk about where’s the limit, even if I like it rough I don’t like being kicked” he said with a large smirk, before groaning again in pain.

His words made you blush a little, this not going unnoticed. ”Oooh, did I make my little princess blush?”

You let out a shaky breath. ”Nah, that only happens in your dreams. I also told you to stop calling me that, didn’t I?”

”I don’t recall, nice to see that you showed up here.”

”For my friends, not you.” You turned around, continuing on making the drink you needed a lot at this very moment.

”Damn, at least give me a chance here.” Chris said with a chuckle. ”I really want to get you know you though.”


”Let’s play a game then? I won’t try to make a move on you, so it’s harmless right?” He said with a sweet smile. You were doubtful, but just nodded as a yes since he seemed serious.

”I will ask you questions and you’ll answer the first thing that comes in mind.”

”Wait, they had this game in friends..” You said, shocked.

”Yeah, so? It’s a good show and Rachel is really hot.” He was smiling, the chances of him thinking about Jennifer Aniston high.

”Just figured out guys like you watch some car movies that’s all” you muttered, Chris hearing this.

”Guys like me? You really do think I’m a walking cliché, unbelievable.” Chris looked pretty hurt, your features softening up for a moment.

”You really don’t give me any reasons to think otherwise. Anyways, the game?” You were avoiding his gaze, ashamed that maybe you had just hurt his feelings.

”Oh right. You answer first. Cats or dogs?”

You couldn’t help but let out a laugh at his question, but when you saw the face he was pulling you stopped. ”Dogs.”

”Vilde or Sana?”

”Sana.” That came out much faster than you thought it would. “Wow, I thought it’d be Vilde.”

”Do you think I’m hot?”


A large smirk appeared on his face, making you feel confused before realization hit you. You couldn’t find the right words to answer him, so you just were there silently. He took a step closer to you, making you take a step back and hitting the wall. Chris took your hand in yours, intertwining your fingers together.

”For the record princess, I find you really fucking hot too.” He leaned in, closing the gap between the two you.

Your brain was yelling to push him away and run, but you did quite the opposite. You kissed him back for a moment before pulling away.

“I could like you if you’d just stop playing these sick games and let me get to know you.” with that you pushed him off of you, rushing out of the room feeling disappointed in yourself.

Twinkle: The Six Times It Was A Secret & The One Time It Wasn’t

For @queerstanuris & @ghost-grantaire, two lovely people 😘

1. Nine: Sunny For You And I

They are small and they are reckless and she is laying in the grass at school, on her back, watching the leaves sway above her. He is alone, he looks troubled, but he lies down next to her because it’s right and it’s good and she’s kind and he knows it.

They don’t speak, but they both smile, and it’s worth something to say that in this moment, something is born between Jennifer Hayes and Will Byers.

2. Ten: Lungs With Roses

She can’t breathe. Her lungs are crackling like sandpaper and her eyes are wide and she claws at her pale throat with desperate fingers, as though tearing it open will fix the problem. Red lines are drawn from the middle of her neck to her collarbone.

She sags against the wall. The hall is empty. No one can help her. She’s going to die here and she just knows it.

But then, like a knight in shining armour, a little boy emerges from the bathroom. His eyes widen when he sees her. He looks so small in his brother’s jean jacket. He is Will Byers and she knows right then that he has come to save her in more ways than one.

“Jennifer? Are you okay?”

Rasping, she chokes out a ‘No’, followed by a ‘Help’.

He kneels beside her, uncertain. “Get a teacher?”

She nods, and he runs off. When Mr. Clarke bursts out of the science classroom, worry written all over his face, he is not alone. Will has followed him, and she knows, she knows, that he is good.

“Ms. Hayes? Can you stand?”

He helps her, Mr. Clarke, who comes to her house regularly on Sunday nights, and eats the tofu her mother makes with a false smile (before sneaking Jen a few sweets—she loves the man, dear God she loves him). He helps her stand and helps her breathe and takes her to the nurse’s office, and all the while Will stands nearby like a shrunken shadow, but he holds her hand while she waits for her parents and promises her that it’ll be okay, you’ll get better, they’ll find out what’s wrong.

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