You Accidentally Killed Someone (Gender Neutral Reader) (Teen Wolf Preference)
Requested by @starbornuser
Genre: Angst, Fluff
Characters: Peter, Parrish, Theo, Liam, Stiles, Isaac
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Peter Hale
The call comes late. Too late.
Peter feels a flicker of annoyance when his phone rings. That disappears the moment he hears your breathing; ragged, desperate, thick with panic. He sits up straighter, all irritation gone. “Y/N?” His tone sharpens instantly. “What have you done?” Silence. Then a whisper: “I didn’t mean to…” That’s all he needs.
When he finds you, you’re huddled on the ground, hands bloody and trembling, eyes wide and glazed, staring straight through him. The metallic scent of blood hangs heavy in the air, sharp and coppery, mixed with the sour sting of spilt adrenaline. Each breath is thick and damp, carrying a hint of sweat and fear. The body isn’t far. A broken chair and deep scratches in the floor suggest there was a struggle, something feral and sudden; nothing about this was cold or calculated. The steady, relentless ticking of a distant clock and the faint patter of your shallow breaths fill the silence, amplifying the raw sense of chaos lingering in the room.
Peter surveys the scene with clinical detachment. When he looks back at you, though, he flinches at your shaking shoulders and the silent tears running down your face. “Look at me,” he says, quieter now. You refuse. “I killed them,” you choke. “I couldn’t stop. I just lost it.” Peter lets out a slow breath and crouches in front of you.
He keeps his distance at first, knowing it’s not the right moment to reach out. “You didn’t lose control,” he says. “You have control. You just don’t know how to use it yet.” Your head shakes rapidly. “No,no, I’m dangerous.” “Of course you are,” he interrupts, sounding almost amused but still gentle. “So am I.”
That gets your attention. Finally, you look at him. And Peter, usually so cold and calculating, softens just a little. just slightly. “You called me,” he says. “That means you’re not as far gone as you think.” A pause. Then, quieter: “I’ll take care of this. And I’ll teach you how to never feel like this again.”
He glances around, already calculating. He notes the footprints near the threshold and the bloody handprint smeared along the wall, taking inventory of everything he needs to erase. You watch as Peter pulls out his phone, scrolling to a number you don't recognise. He lowers his voice and speaks briefly, mentioning a warehouse out by the rail yard and instructing the caller to bring a certain cleaning kit and a black duffel. When he hangs up, his movements are methodical as he begins to track the blood droplets with a dishtowel, checking for stray evidence. In minutes, he's orchestrating the entire cover-up, from disposing of the splintered chair in the struggle to making sure your fingerprints disappear. Still, even as he wipes away blood and traces, there's the uneasy sense that something may have been overlooked—a faint print, a stray thread, a security camera nobody noticed. All it would take is one loose end, and everything could unravel. Tonight, your secret will stay buried. For now.
Jordan Parrish
You don’t even realise you’re crying until Parrish points it out. “Hey… hey, slow down,” he says gently through the phone. “Where are you?” Your voice breaks. “I hurt someone.” His stomach drops.
When he arrives, he already knows. He notices the smell, the stillness, and the way you’re curled up with your arms wrapped tightly around your knees, rocking as if you’re bracing for an earthquake. Parrish approaches with care, as if you might break at any moment.
“Y/N,” he says softly. You flinch. “I didn’t mean to,” you sob. “I got angry and then—it was over, they weren’t moving—” He kneels beside you, hesitating only a second before placing a steady hand on your shoulder. “You didn’t mean it,” he repeats. “I killed them, Parrish.” His jaw tightens. He refuses to lie or let you fall apart. “Okay,” he says quietly. “Then we deal with it. Together.”
You shake your head frantically. “I can’t—I can’t tell Scott, I can’t tell anyone; if anyone finds out, they’ll never look at me the same. Scott would try to help, but what if he can't? What if I put everyone in danger just by saying something?” “You told me,” he reminds you. That matters. Parrish shifts closer, grounding you. “You’re not alone in this,” he says. “And you’re not a monster.” For a brief moment, the thought of Scott lingers between you, heavy and uncertain. Parrish hesitates, as if weighing his next words, then offers quietly, “I know Scott would do everything he could. He always has. Maybe someday, when you’re ready, you’ll let him in… and maybe that’s how you’ll find some peace.”
Parrish glances away for a split second. "I remember the first time I lost control," he adds, voice low and honest. "I was terrified of what I'd done... what I might do again. But someone helped me realise I could come back from it." He looks at you, steady and sure. "You can, too." A beat. “I’ve lost control too,” he admits, voice low. “It doesn’t make you beyond saving.” You finally lean into him, shaking. He holds you firmly, protective and unafraid.
Theo Raeken (Chimera Reader)
Theo answers on the second ring. Your voice is barely there. “Theo…” He’s already alert. “What happened?” “I messed up.” A pause. “…How bad?” Silence answers him.
Theo finds you quickly. Of course he does. The scene doesn’t faze him. Blood and a body are nothing new to him. But you? You pace in wild, frantic circles, fists tangled in your hair. Your breath comes in short, ragged gasps, as if you might tear yourself apart. “I didn’t mean to!” you snap the moment you see him. “It just happened-”
Theo watches you carefully, something unreadable flickering in his eyes. “Hey,” he says, calm. “Look at me.” You do, and your expression cracks. “I killed someone.” Theo nods once. No shock. No judgment. “Okay.” That throws you. “Okay?” you echo.
Theo glances at the blood, jaw tight for just a moment before he schools his features. He keeps his voice even, but something sharp and protective flickers in his eyes. "You're a chimera," he says simply. "Chimeras are unpredictable. Sometimes the different parts inside you fight each other, or your emotions go haywire. The thing about chimeras is, you're part human and part something else—sometimes multiple creatures at the same time. That makes you stronger, sometimes even harder to kill, but it also means your powers can clash inside you. Some chimeras have abilities nobody's ever catalogued before, and that can make even the most experienced supernatural creatures uneasy. We've all seen chimeras lose control when they're scared, angry, or just overwhelmed. It isn't just you. It happens." "That doesn't make it okay!" "No," he agrees. "But it makes it understandable." You stare at him, looking for disgust but finding none.
Instead, he steps closer. “You trusted me enough to call me,” he says. “That was the right move.” Your voice drops. “You’re not scared of me?” Theo huffs a quiet laugh. “Y/N,” he says, almost gently, “I’ve done worse.” That lands heavy. He reaches out, tilting your chin up slightly. “You’re not broken,” he adds. “You’re just learning.” A pause. “And I’ll make sure you don’t lose control like that again.”
Liam Dunbar
Liam almost doesn’t pick up. But something tells him to. “Y/N?” You’re crying. Hard. “I messed up, Liam. I messed up so bad.” His heart starts racing. “Where are you?”
When he finds you, he’s not prepared. Not for the body. Not for the blood. Not for the way you look at him, wide-eyed and jaw trembling, as if you’re terrified he’ll run away the moment he sees you. “I didn’t mean to,” you say immediately. “I swear, I didn’t mean to-” “I know,” Liam says quickly, even though his chest feels tight. “You don’t-” “I do!” he insists, stepping closer. “I’ve lost control before, too, remember?”
You hesitate. “I got angry,” you whisper. “And then I just… couldn’t stop.” Liam swallows hard. He gets it. Too well. “Okay,” he says. “Okay. We can fix this.” Your eyes widen. “Fix- Liam, they’re dead.” “I know!” he snaps, but then his voice softens. “I know. I just mean… We’ll figure it out.” You shake your head. “You should hate me.” “No,” he says instantly. And he means it. “I’m scared for you,” he admits. “But I don’t hate you.” That breaks you more than anything else. Liam steps forward and pulls you into a tight hug, even though he’s shaking too. “We’ll tell Scott,” he murmurs. “We’ll figure it out. You’re not dealing with this alone.”
You picture Scott, the pack’s anchor, and the way he always tries to fix things, no matter how bad. Maybe he'll be angry, or scared, but he won't turn away. If anyone can help you through this, it’s him, and suddenly, just the thought of Scott stepping in, ready to fight for you, helps you breathe a little easier. You imagine the others too - Lydia, Malia, and the rest of the pack; each reacting in their own way if they learned the truth. There would be fierce arguments, and trust might waver, but deep down, you know they would refuse to leave you to face this alone. Already, you can sense the chaos and loyalty that would come from the pack rallying around you, the beginnings of a plan forming that could either save you or destroy everything if one mistake is made. For now, it’s just a possibility, but the shadow of what comes next lingers, and you can almost feel the pack shifting closer, ready to face whatever fallout is coming.
Stiles Stilinski
You don’t even say hello when he answers. “I killed someone“…Okay,” Stiles says. “Not my favourite way to start a call, but where are you?” You almost laugh. Almost.
When he arrives, he takes one look at the scene and visibly pales, but he doesn’t run. Instead, he looks at you. “Hey,” he says softly. “Hey, hey…” Your chest is tight. You can’t catch your breath. Panic claws at your throat as your hands tremble violently. “I didn’t mean to- I just got so angry and then everything went blank and- Stiles, what if I do it again?”
He walks straight up to you, ignoring everything else, and grabs your face gently. “Look at me.” You do. “You’re not doing this alone,” he says firmly. “I killed someone-” “And?” he counters. “That doesn’t mean you’re gone.” You stare at him. “Stiles-” “I mean it,” he insists. “We’ve dealt with way worse. Okay? Possession, murder spirits, actual serial killers - this? This is awful, yeah, but it’s you. You didn’t choose it.”
His eyes flicker, and for a second, Stiles lets something raw show through. “You know, I still have days where I wake up terrified I’ll cross a line I can’t come back from. That maybe the darkness wins, and I lose myself. But every time, someone pulled me back. I promise, you’re not alone in this.”
“I lost control.” “Then we help you get it back.” His voice softens. “You called me,” he adds. “That means you trust me.” A small nod. “Good,” he says. “Because I’m not going anywhere.” Then, quieter, “We’ll fix this. Together. Like we always do.”
Isaac Lahey
Isaac knows something is wrong the second he hears your voice. He doesn’t ask many questions. He just comes to you.
When he arrives, he freezes for a moment at the sight. But then he sees you. And everything else fades. You look terrified, your shoulders shaking, eyes full of tears, and lips pressed together so tightly they turn white. “I didn’t mean to,” you whisper immediately.
Isaac approaches slowly, as if you might bolt. “I believe you,” he says gently. “I killed them,” you say, voice hollow. He nods once, not in agreement but in understanding. “Okay,” he says softly. Tears spill over. “You should be scared of me.” Isaac shakes his head. “I’m not.”
You look at him like it doesn’t make sense. “I’ve been there,” he admits quietly. “That feeling… like you’re not in control of yourself.” He steps closer. “It doesn’t make you a monster.” You choke on a sob. “Then what does?” Isaac hesitates for a moment, then reaches for your hands, ignoring the blood. “Nothing,” he says.
You break. He pulls you into a gentle hug, holding you as if you’re fragile and worth protecting. “We’ll figure this out,” he murmurs into your hair. “You’re not alone anymore.” He squeezes your hand and adds, “We can talk to Scott, or someone from the pack, or even someone outside; whatever you need to get through this. There’s a way forward, and I’ll help you find it.”
As the worry tightens in your chest, Isaac stays with you, patient and steady. There is fear, and there is guilt, but there is also a promise - in his arms, you start to believe that healing is possible, even after everything. Maybe redemption won't come all at once, but with Isaac by your side, hope finds a way to return. Step by step, you realise, you might just find yourself again.
