My Scarf
Peter Hale(ooc) x mixedFEM!Reader
Warnings: Cursing, she/her pronouns, violence, blood, mentions of rape, death, murder, angst, comfort, smut, mentions of rape via spiked drink, not beta read
SMUT WARNINGS: SMUT AHEAD, biting kink, choking kink, mentions of rough sex, kinda rough sex (?), breeding kink, unprotected sex (Y’ALL BETTER WRAP IT UP)
If you have been the victim of rape or know someone who has, PLEASE PLEASE DO NOT BE AFRAID TO GET HELP!
Word Count: 12085
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!!
Peter wasn’t sure exactly why he found himself watching Y/N, but he knew he didn’t like it. He was so upset when Derek invited the little human girl into the loft— well, she wasn’t a little girl, she was 23, but small, thus earning her the title ‘little girl’.
He never spoke to her and she never spoke to him, but she would tilt her head in recognition whenever she saw him— much to his surprise, he’d do the same.
He didn’t know why she bothered, he wasn’t a fool, he can recall all the times Stiles and Scott would tell her what monster he is and that she shouldn’t be near him. Hell, he heard Derek warning her the day she came to the loft.
He could hear her steady heartbeat beat a bit faster before calming down, but she’d walked into the living room and sat on the couch playing a game on her phone, nodding her head at him with the smallest of smiles.
She was an odd one. She never spoke much, never smiled much— just sat and listened, adding small suggestions here and there, but never overstepping the boundaries— she was in a room with supernatural people, it’s not like her opinion mattered; but Peter found that he liked her silence almost as much as he liked her little suggestions, that worked 90% of the time.
What he couldn’t figure out is why she was so quiet and reserved, when her friends were not. How could she be friends with Stiles and his loud obnoxious self? Or goodie-two-shoes Scott? Let alone the self- centered and prissy Lydia. Derek, his nephew, he could maybe understand— he was quiet, but also very untrusting and angry, whereas she was just quiet and serious— but more relaxed compared to Derek.
None of it added up to him, but it worked for everyone else. There were times when she would grace them with a small smile here, and a small laugh there, but they were scarce and when they did happen Peter found himself trying to commit these moments to memory.
For instance, the first time was around the fourth meeting; Stiles, Lydia, and Scott were sitting in the loft pouring over their homework after the meeting (mainly because of Lydia) when Stiles asked Y/N out of the blue,
“Hey Y/N, I’ve gotta question for you.” The brown skinned girl looks up from her phone to Stiles, not answering with her words, but with her face. Raising her eyebrows slightly, she gives him her full attention (Peter won’t admit it, but he was a little jealous that Stiles got her attention before him), “Why don’t you talk?”
She pauses, looking at Lydia and then back at Stiles, before opening her mouth, “I talk, I just talk to people I like.”
“Like me!” Lydia said, beaming brightly at the boys. Lydia didn’t catch the look Y/N gave her, but Peter did, and he chuckled, making her quickly look at him, smiling bashfully.
“Ouch, that hurts Y/N— that… that really hurts.” Stiles pouts at the girl, clutching his chest and Y/N just shrugs her shoulders looking at the three of them with an awkward kind of air.
“You asked.” She quipped after a few seconds, glancing at Peter. He simply nods his head and she smiles again leaning back into the couch, more relaxed.
“Well yeah— but I— oh, forget it.” Stiles throws up his hands before turning back to his homework, sighing deeply, “God I hate math.”
“Same.” Y/N says going back to her phone.
“…Y/N?” It’s Scott’s turn now.
“Hm?”
“Why aren’t you doing your homework?” At this she furrows her brow looking at Scott like he’s an idiot, and then to Lydia once again— who gives Scott the same look, “What?”
“Um, probably because I’m not in school anymore…?”
“Wait, did you drop out?” Stiles chimes in, staring at her with wide eyes.
“…No.” There was a grovelliness in her voice that pequided Peter’s interest more than it should have. It wasn’t like a wolf, but someone who was getting really annoyed very quickly, “I already graduated-”
“-Oh-”
“-College.”
“…What?” The boys say together looking at her like she grew an extra head.
She doesn’t bother to repeat herself, as she looks to Lydia who shrugs.
“They’re stupid, what can I say?”
“Wait a minute, wait a minute…” Stiles closes his eyes trying to think clearly, “How old are you?”
“23.”
“Wha?!”
“Yuuup, what? You thought because I’m friends with Lydia I’d be the same age as you guys?”
“Yes!”
“Stiles. Have you ever seen me walking around your school-”
“Ye-”
“-Going to classes?”
“No, but-”
“There you go. I was there visiting the library with Lydia and a few of her friends. That’s the only reason why I was in your school- and yes, I got permission to be there. Still have my visitors pass.”
“You still have that? Why?” Lydia’s face contorted to one of disgust, “It’s so tacky.”
“What’s your point?” The banshee is at a loss of words and turns back to her homework. Y/N glances over at Stiles’ math problems, “Oh, you’re working on that. I love doing those kinds of problems.”
“You like this?!” Scott sneers at his homework looking up at Y/N. She nods her head with a small smile, Peter takes this time to watch her commenting this whole interaction to memory.
“Well, since you like it… and I obviously don’t… you wanna do my homework?” Stiles says with hopeful eyes to Y/N, who just smiles, places her hand on his shoulder squeezing it gently and says in the sweetest, kindest voice,
“No.” A beat of silence goes by before the room erupts with laughter at her words and she leans back into the couch trying to hide her smile at Stiles' broken expression, “Sorry, not sorry. Just cuz I like it, doesn’t mean I’m going to do your work for you.”
The rest of the night was pretty normal, and everyone went their separate ways, but that was the night Peter found he liked having Y/N around more than he should.
The second time she graced him with a smile was when the Pack was fighting off a creature that liked to kill everything in its path (much like everything else). Derek and Peter had been the ones to find it— well, Stiles found it first and it had Stiles cornered ready to rip him to pieces— but Peter had been the one to kill it. When he was done, he was covered in its blood— nothing new to him, but Y/N had never seen him drenched in blood before, and he was apprehensive about what she might say or do.
Lydia, Scott and Y/N run up to them panting and out of breath, she looks over the group and looks at the creature, now unrecognizable with wide eyes. Looking over Derek she flicks her eyes to Peter taking in his appearance and he almost jumps at this. Lingering on his form she raises a brow, taking another deep breath, looking down at Stiles,
“Remember that time when you said you'd protect me?”
“Uh, yeah.” He takes her hand as she helps him up.
“I don’t have a lot of confidence in those words now.” She pats his arm smiling at the shock on his face, “I’m just saying, you almost died. How’re you supposed to protect me if you can’t protect yourself?”
“It caught me by surprise!”
She just laughs nodding her head, glancing at Peter again saying, “Sure it did, of course.”
He didn’t hide his amusement, he just looked over at Stiles and added, “She has a point.”
The boy glared at him, but didn’t say anything more, instead he just walked with the rest of the group to their vehicles and they all went their separate ways.
From that moment on Peter wanted to make it his mission to get Y/N to crack a smile or let out the tiny laugh just for him. It started with small snarky comments thrown at different members of the Pack, and even when they weren’t funny, Y/N found herself trying her damnedest to hide her smiles behind her phone or her curly hair; hide her laugh behind a cough or fake sneeze. He found himself fill with pride at those times, but the Pack would also give their own jabs at him that had her doing the same thing— this left him less amused, but he dealt with it; he’d send her a glare to which she’d jump slightly and give a small ‘sorry’ before moving away from him.
Other moments around the loft, they’d be sitting on the couch, her on her phone or watching TV, while he’d be lounging eyes closed or reading a book. They kept a reasonable amount of distance between each other, but they weren’t afraid to share the couch with one another.
Once Stiles tried to sit on the couch and he growled at him, making the boy curb himself right to the floor, when Y/N came in she sat down where Stiles had tried to sit. Stiles just motioned at them with a ‘what the fuck’ face, looking at everyone else who just ignored him.
Peter didn’t want the Pack to think he was growing soft for the human, so the next time everyone met up he was laying down on the couch when she walked in. She paused in her movements and just stared at him confused. Sighing she just sat on the floor in front of where she normally sat (which is where Peter’s head is) and crossed her legs pulling out her phone. Derek walked in giving her a look and she just shrugged saying,
“I’m not gonna sit on his face.” Looking back at her phone she adds, “Besides he looks comfy, why mess that up?”
After 5 months of being with the Pack, Peter was growing annoyed with how blasé blah she was with him now. It was as if she wasn’t afraid of him and he hated and loved the idea. He did everything in his power— short of physically hurting her— to get her to hate him, but she didn’t seem phased by it all. She’d get annoyed or mildly angry, before sighing, rolling her eyes and agreeing with whatever mean thing he said to her. He was growing tired of her not fighting back and made up his mind to voice that she was a liability and needed to stop coming to the meetings, if she wasn’t going to take things seriously.
Unfortunately that never happened, because she didn’t show up; in fact she didn’t show up for the next 3 meetings and he was not happy. He was going to ask Derek, but before he could open his mouth, Y/N walked in, pulling off her scarf and sweater, and collapsed on the couch. Miffed, he grabs her arm roughly, picking her up demanding to know where the hell she has been.
She just raises a brow at him, she wrenches her arm out of his grasp and shoves him out of her way. He takes a few steps back, not expecting that kind of response from her as she grabs her sweater and walks out of the loft.
He follows after her into the he parking lot, when she swiftly turns to face him,
“WHAT?!”
He abruptly stops at her loud voice before schooling himself, “Where have you been?”
“Why do you care? It’s not like we’re friends.” She’s right, they aren’t friends, but that didn’t stop the sting in his chest, “I have a life that doesn’t revolve around the supernatural. I have bills to pay, Mr. Hale. I can’t spend all my time and energy in this crazy lifestyle like the rest of you. Besides I’m not included in half of the stuff you guys do, mainly because I’m human— sure Stiles is too, but that’s because he’s so pushy and nosy and best friends since the womb with Scott. I do some stuff concerning technology because the boys didn’t realize there were cameras in the area, but that’s about it. I’m not really a part of anything. So if I’m not here, it’s my business not anyone else’s. I’ll tell whoever I need to tell about certain parts of my life, but you— you are not one of those people, Mr. Hale. So don’t come here scolding me, or demanding to know where I’ve been, when we’ve never had a decent conversation. You don’t get that right— now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going home after working a double shift.”
Not waiting for an answer she gets in her car and peels out of the parking lot, leaving a very intrigued and stunned Peter in her wake. He was impressed with the fact that she said what she did to him, it was the most emotion he’d ever seen from her— she was angry, annoyed and exhausted with everything. He’d never seen her so… so… beautiful. Her clothes were messy and her dark brown curls were falling out of the messy bun she threw it up in when she walked into the loft. Her face was tired and there were bags under her eyes as she glared daggers at the older werewolf, giving him a piece of her mind.
Smiling to himself he walked back into the loft and laid down on the couch ignoring Derek’s questions about what just happened. Putting his arm under his head, he closed his eyes, smelling Y/N’s scent on his couch— it was much stronger than he anticipated, but soon realized that she left her scarf. Opening his mouth to get Derek’s attention, he decides that he’ll hold onto it until she comes back. For now he tucks it away in his jacket for ‘safe keeping’.
The next week rolls around and Y/N comes to the loft looking much better than before, but still quiet as ever. She never acknowledges Peter’s presence as he smiles at her, she doesn’t even sit on the couch with him, opting to sit in a single chair across from the couch. Squinting at her slightly Peter lets it go as the meeting begins, but keeps trailing his eyes to her— not once did she look at him.
The next few meetings go exactly like this and he’s not amused anymore, he’d ask her questions, simple everyday questions, “How are you? Whatcha been up to? You don’t look so tired anymore.”
And she’d look at him like he was stupid— the stupidest person she’d ever met, before answering with, “Fine. Nothing. I slept.”
He’d just stare at her waiting for more words to follow, but she didn’t give him the pleasure of that, she’d just stare back at him with the same ‘you are an idiot’ face and he’d just puff out his cheeks and nod his head saying, “Awesome.” Ignoring her the rest of the night, which she didn’t mind in the least.
The Pack wasn’t blind and watching their interactions (if you could call it that) with awkward and wide eyes. Derek and Lydia knew it took a lot for Y/N to be so done with someone after she showed them a decent amount of her personality. So either she just didn’t want to put in the effort of being nice anymore or Peter said something to her and she hated him for all eternity now. Whatever it was they confronted both of them— at separate times of course.
Derek spoke with Peter and didn’t get very far with him, and Lydia talked with Y/N and it was going well until she brought up Y/N’s change in attitude with Peter and that ended just as quickly.
The pair were confused and had no idea what to do about the situation; Lydia suggested they just let it go and see what happens as time goes on. Derek wasn’t thrilled with this idea, but finally agreed and called a meeting about Pack members needing to get along. Both Peter and Y/N rolled their eyes during the whole meeting. Once it was done, Y/N informed the group that she won’t be around for the next meeting, she needed to take a day for herself and left without saying anything else.
Peter went to his apartment feeling annoyed with Y/N’s words and began pacing, wondering what she’d be doing that she couldn’t just do at the loft to relax. Sitting on the edge of his bed, he lays down staring up at the ceiling, sighing heavily before her scent hits his nose. Sitting up quickly, he’s mind is swirling with thoughts, why was he smelling her? Did she know where he lived? How? None of the Pack know. Did she follow him?
Then he remembered the scarf.
Getting up he walks over to his dresser pulling out the dark green sheer scarf. His whole drawer smelled like her now and he was surprised her scent hadn’t diminished. Walking backwards to his bed he allows himself to fall into his bed placing the scarf over his eyes and nose just breathing in her smell.
Oh if the Pack could see him now.
He chuckles lowly at the thought, but just focuses on the scarf on his face. His mind goes blank as he slowly drifts off to sleep, thinking of Y/N.
He does this every night until the next meeting where he momentarily forgets Y/N won’t be joining them. Irritated by this he falls into a grumpy mood felt by all the members, when Stiles asks him what’s bothering him he just growls at him. He misses her scent and then he remembers he brought her scarf with him and left it in his car, he doesn’t know why he brought it, but he did. When he parked he saw that he still had it in his hand and tucked it in his glove box (not creepy at all).
As the meeting went on, he couldn’t help but feel like something was amiss. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but he had the feeling something was going to go wrong today. He asked Lydia if she had any weird Banshee visions, to which she just snapped him a quick no and went back to listening to Derek and Scott. Both were annoyed by the interruption, but let it slide.
Until he asked Lydia again,
“Oh my God! Peter for the last time, NO, I haven’t had any visions!”
“Seriously, dude, what’s with you and death?” Stiles asks from his place on the chair across from Peter. Peter smiles at Stiles shrugging his shoulders.
“Can you stop interrupting us? Please?” Scott all but begs glancing at Derek.
“It’s not like we’re going over anything important.” He lays his head back, closing his eyes before casually asking, “Anyone know where Y/N is?”
“It’s her day off, so she’s relaxing.” Lydia snaps at him. Derek didn’t like his uncle asking about Y/N after pestering Lydia about visions of death, so he takes a step forward growling.
“Why do you want to know? It’s not like the two of you are friends.”
“You’re right— we aren’t friends, but she’s your friend. And you have enemies— and it’s been so quiet as of late, that I couldn’t help but wonder if today might not have been the best day to ‘relax’.” He opens his eyes as Derek grabs his shirt pulling him off of the couch.
“What did you do?” His voice is heavy and threatening as he sneers at Peter.
“Well, I was relaxing.” Peter smirks as he’s thrown back down on the couch. Derek opened his mouth to say something when Lydia chimes in.
“She’s going for a drive. She’s fine and we need to stop worrying about her.” She looks up from her phone at eight pairs of eyes looking back at her, “Her words, not mine.”
Derek gives his uncle one more glare before moving to stand next to Scott who looks at Peter, “Happy now?”
“Very.”
They conclude the meeting and Peter still can’t shake the feeling of impending doom that keeps creeping up on him, he knows Y/N is fine, she went for a drive— where? He doesn’t know and maybe that’s what’s bothering him. Getting fed up with the nagging feeling he gets up and leaves the loft in search of Y/N. Looking at his phone he remembers that she never gave him her number and he has no idea where she might be. Opening the glove box, he grabs the scarf and starts his search the old fashion way.
Y/N drove about 45 minutes out of Beacon Hills and pulled into a nature sanctuary, grabbing her phone, she walks down the dirt path enjoying the nature around her. As a little girl, she and her family would drive out on the weekends to this very place and just enjoy life, talking, gazing at the plant and animal life, and have picnics— just having fun. As she grew older, moments like these became scarce and when her dad passed they stopped coming out here all together.
Everywhere she looked she saw the child version of herself laughing and running with her dad in tow and she felt a swirl of emotions rising up. Sitting on a bench where her dad would always have to tie her shoes, she couldn’t help the tears that fell. Wiping her face, she just let time slip by as she watched a few people walk in and out of the sanctuary. She loved this place, and getting up she pushed herself to walk the rest of the trail. It hurt, but she needed this. The times she missed the Pack meetings, she had purposefully thrown herself into work because the anniversary of her dad’s death was coming fast.
And today was that day.
He didn’t die a horrible death or die in the sanctuary, he passed away peacefully in his sleep, but it had been the day that they all made the plan to come here. And that shit hurt her like nothing else. Stopping by the little bridge that overlooked the lake she recalled the moments when they would go canoeing and see how many turtles they could find and if they could count all the tiny fish swimming under them. She remembered when her dad taught her how to fish in this very lake— it was the most boring thing she’d ever done, but she loved it when he bought her ice cream for being such a good sport. She could still hear his laughter, see the crinkly of his eyes as he smiled brightly to her when she caught the tiniest fish known to mankind.
She always wondered why she didn’t have his blue eyes, or his strawberry blond hair. She looked like her mother, just lighter and with curlier hair, and she hated it for a long time. Lots of kids growing up would ask if she was adopted or if she had a different dad since she didn’t look like him. She’d come home upset and angry at her parents and they’d break out the wedding, pregnancy, and baby pictures to help put her mind at ease— it wasn’t until she was in high school that she found she was more like her dad than she had thought— not in looks but in personality. He was always very welcoming and happy, but never crossed any boundaries with people he didn’t know— family is free rein, they don’t count.
Smiling to herself at the absurdity of her thoughts when she was a child, she shakes her head lightly watching a family of ducks swim by. A breeze blows by and for the first time she wonders,
“Where the hell did I leave that scarf?”
“Bit windy isn’t it?” She turns her head to the random voice next to her, she gives the guy a small nod as she moves away from him a little, “I shoulda brought a sweater or something.”
She looks at his short sleeves and shorts agreeing that yes he should have. Not continuing the random conversation he keeps walking to the other side of the bridge and down the rest of the path. Looking both ways she scrunches her face in the direction the man went, not feeling very great about the interaction.
Sighing she looks back over the water, “I’ve been spending too much time with the Pack.”
Feeling that enough time has passed from when the stranger spoke with her until now, she calculates that he should be a good 15 minutes ahead of her, and they shouldn't be meeting again any time soon. Walking off of the bridge at a leisurely pace she watches the leaves blow in the wind, hears the calls of birds, the scurrying of squirrels jumping from the ground to the trees and back to the ground. Smiling, she watches two squirrels chase each other occasionally pouncing on one another and then running away.
“Cute.”
She continues her walk feeling much better about everything and sits in the gazebo searching for something. Smiling triumphantly she pulls out her pocket knife going over the carving her dad made when she was little.
“I miss you so much dad. I wish I could be with you again.” Blowing the shavings away she runs her fingers over it, next to it she puts her initials and pockets her knife looking to the sky, “Damn, it’s almost sunset.”
Picking up her pace she walks to the front gate where an attendant is waiting to lock up the sanctuary, giving the lady a sheepish smile as she slides past her and towards the parking lot. The lady just smiles knowingly saying,
“Me too, kid, me too.”
Getting in her car she pulls out her phone, wondering why no one’s called or texted her,
“I know I said not to worry about me but damn guys, at least show me you care.” Looking at where her bars should be she sees that she has none, in fact it says ‘No Service’, sucking her teeth she nods, “That explains it. Well, better get back.”
Turning on her car, she’s startled by the sound of beeps she hasn’t heard in a while, “Tire Pressure low, what the hell?”
Getting out she sees that her front tire is flat, like completely flat. Groaning she turns off her car looking at the back tire and it too is flat. Furrowing her brow she walks around to the other side— all four tires flat, glancing around she sees one other car, a black Nissan with three guys standing around.
One of them begins to walk over to her and her heart starts to hammer in her chest. Looking out the main road she sees a blue car pass by thinking that that might be the attendant going home for the night, leaving from an employee's exit. He reaches her smiling looking down at her tires, not giving him a look of fear, but innocent curiosity as she waits for him to speak first.
“You too huh?”
“Me too, what?”
“Your tires are flat right? Ours are too.” He points back at the car as the other two men stare at the back tire lightly kicking it, “We called Triple A, we can see if they can help you out too.”
“Um, yeah, sure thanks.” Y/N eyes him wearily, but only when he turns away from her. She watches as he walks back to his car and she feels herself relax a bit, until she feels someone grab her from behind. Throwing her head back she hits the person square on their nose. Groaning they drop Y/N to the ground and she picks herself up quickly, walking backwards towards the black Nissan. One of the guys shouts and they run standing behind Y/N.
As the guy stands up straight she sees that it’s the guy who spoke to her on the bridge, glaring at him she’s about to take a few steps forward when she’s grabbed again, this time from one of the three men.
“Oh, great.” She mutters, stomping on the guy's foot and then elbowing him in his gut. Another tries to grab her arm but she runs under it running towards the sanctuary gate. Jumping up she scales the gate in record time— her assailants not far behind, and she books it down the dirt path.
Breathing heavily, she tries to make sure she doesn’t trip on any loose rocks or branches, but in her haste she does end up slipping. Cursing she picks herself up, and is body slammed into from behind. She’s then hoisted up and pain radiates from her face as she feels blood gushing from her nose. She can hear voices yelling at her, and feel someone tugging her hair, but the force of the punch has her seeing stars and hearing ringing in her ears.
One of them grabs her legs and they quickly carry her back to the parking lot. Breathing as evenly as she can, she tries to not freak out and gather her senses— it’s not easy to fight back when you can’t think straight.
Passing the gate she sees that they used bolt cutters and they begin debating on what they're going to do to her first. Dropping her legs, one of them punches her in her stomach making her gasp out, he sends a few more punches to her gut and she’s dropped to the ground gasping for air. She’s kicked in the ribs twice before she’s laying on her side coughing up blood onto the gravel road.
“So what’s the plan now?” One asks, catching his breath— might have been the one kicking her.
“I don’t know, didn’t think she was going to run like that-”
“Yeah, or punch you in the face.” Another quips cackling.
“She didn’t punch me! She headbudded me, prick!”
“Whatever dude. You said you had an easy target.” The one that asked her about her tires spoke next, glaring at her from her curled position on the ground, “I at least wanna get my dick wet, before we kill her, and if she’s gonna be this much trouble, I say we kill her now— just make it last.”
There’s a moment of silence until one yells, “Drake! Did you get the tire switched yet?!”
“Nah dude, I need help with the car jack, it’s jammed.”
“Useless idiot.” One mutters going to help Drake.
Looking around the dark parking lot, she sees that they’re mostly paying attention to what’s happening with their car and she takes this opportunity to breathe deeply and run back into the sanctuary. They weren’t expecting that and a slew of curses are heard behind her along with ‘I thought you were watching her!’ Pushing the gate open she swings it forcefully behind her and makes her way down the dirt path, noting where she slipped the first time.
She can hear footsteps close behind her and sliding on the ground where she fell before she grabs dirt in both her hands, spinning herself around throwing one hand full at the one she headbudded, and the other at the one who kicked her ribs. Both cry out in pain, because it wasn’t just dirt she threw— small pieces of twigs and mulch are thrown into their eyes and it burns.
Reeling her foot back she kicks one in the jewels as hard as she can, his gasp for air lets her know he’ll be down for a good minute, and swinging around she roundhouse kicks the other in the face almost knocking him out. Turning back to the one clutching his package she pushes him off the side of the path making him tumble down the terrain hitting tree stumps and rocks all the way down, not wasting time she turns back to the other and grapples him down into an anaconda choke hold. He starts to struggle against her and she applies more pressure hearing him gasp out for air. Hearing his struggle she lets up slightly, but remembers what was said in the parking lot and applies all the pressure she can. About a minute goes by and he isn’t moving anymore, but she doesn’t let up, she just keeps her body in place and jolts at the sound of someone shouting,
“MARK, TIM! WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU GUYS?!”
Getting off of Mark… or Tim, she looks up the path seeing two flashlights making their way towards her. Looking down at… the guy, she sees his lifeless eyes staring up at the night sky and she glances to the edge of the path and decides to cross that bridge when she comes to it, for now she’s running down the path and finding a place to hide.
Her heart lurches in her chest as she hears the other two yell out that they're gonna kill her when they find her and she moves off of the path into the wooded area. She recalls her dad telling her never to do that because she might get lost or hurt, but now seems like a good time to throw her assailants off her track. Finding a big tree by the bank of the river she hopes that there isn’t anything currently living there, as she climbs in between the giant tree limbs burying herself deep inside holding her breath.
Her eyes are wide as she looks across the water and the quiet is deafening as she tries to hear the sound of footsteps approaching her. Oh, how she wished she told the Pack exactly where she was going, and when they should expect her to be back, but no, she had to be in her feelings and not say a damn thing. Soon the sound of someone calling her name pulls her out of her thoughts, it sounded like Peter, but there was no way.
Not one to be fooled easily she searches her pockets pulling out her wallet she uses the moonlight to see that yes, her license and cards were still in it, did she lock her car? No, she didn’t. They could’ve easily gone back and looked at her registration learning her name and were now trying to lore her out.
That’s when she remembered she has her pocket knife.
Click it open she steps forward leaning against one of the tree limbs hearing the sound of footsteps coming closer to her. Crouching down she moves to the other side to circle behind the guy and take him by surprise— which she did.
She kicks his knees in making him trip, turning him over, she gets on top of him, holding her knife up ready to plunge it into his face. Her reaction to who it is is slow, because by the time her knife is halfway to his face she can’t stop herself.
Grabbing her wrist quickly, he rolls the two of them over, now hovering over Y/N with wide eyes and a smirk.
“Y- you. It’s you?” She asks quietly, not sure if Peter was really there.
“In the flesh.” He studies her face, noting the blood drying on her face. Pulling her up, she shocks him by wrapping him in a hug, tightly squeezing him, like he’ll leave her at any moment. Gently patting her back he pulls her back and tears begin forming in her eyes.
“Please tell me they’re gone.” Her voice is still quiet and almost hollow sounding as if someone was listening to them.
“Who?”
“The other two guys— possibly three. One fell over the edge not far from the gate.”
“I didn’t see anyone, but when I do I’ll take care of it.”
“Okay.” She numbly nods her head holding his hand tightly as they make their way back to the dirt path. Peter is full of anger as he looks at Y/N over his shoulder seeing this once sassy, quiet, fun loving girl now skittish and afraid of the twigs snapping under their own feet.
Oh, whoever did this to his Y/N was going to pay.
He stops walking when he feels Y/N tug on his black jacket, looking back at her she stares at the dirt path in front of them as the sound of two male voices reaches his ears— how she heard them before him was beyond him, but he lets her hand go making his way to the path.
“Peter, please. Don’t leave me.” A tear rolls down her cheek as she curls in on herself almost crouching to the earth. Livid is the only thing he's feeling at this point and shrugs off his jacket putting it around her shoulders.
“Sit right here, I’ll be right back.” He finds a tree log she can sit on while he goes to take care of business.
Tugging his jacket around her like a lifeline, she inhales the smell of his cologne, feeling more at ease— and then the screaming starts. She jumps at the sounds of a roar and bones being broken, closing her eyes tightly, she hopes that Peter is okay.
“Of course he is. He’s a werewolf. He- he’s fine, perfectly fine!”
“Y/N?”
Opening her eyes she sees Peter standing before her with his bright cobalt blue eyes watching her carefully. Sighing in relief she gets up and runs into his chest, not wanting to hug him unnecessarily again. She knows the man likes his space, but she needs to feel close to him, so she leans her forehead against his chest as her eyes begin to water again.
“Come on.” Following him to the dirt path she looks at where the two men should’ve been. She can see an outline of something, but she can’t make out what, placing a hand on her back Peter guides her to the exit, “They won’t be bothering anyone ever again.”
She looks up at him with wide eyes, but nods her head quietly making her way up the path. Still she’s skittish as the sounds of the wooded area fill the space. He notes that she keeps looking over the edge of the dirt path as the make their way up,
“What is it, Y/N?”
“Th- the other guy fell down there somewhere.” She points down at an angle once she sees the body of the man she choked to death up the path. Looking over he does in fact see someone down there— and they’re still alive, but not for long.
“I’ll be right back.”
She nods watching him make his way down, sliding her arms into the sleeves of his jacket, she squats down picking up pieces of mulch tossing them over the edge as screams soon fill the air. Smiling to herself she waits for Peter to come back, what she wasn’t expecting was to see his wolf face as he emberged back to the path. Rolling his neck he changes his face back to normal helping her stand up again. She winces slightly as her adrenaline levels out and the pain is slowly kicking in, she begins to limp not that far from the gate and Peter picks her up carrying her the rest of the way.
“They slashed your tires.” It’s not a question, as they pass her car to his— which isn’t even parked in a spot. She nods her head locking her car as they go by. Placing her feet on the ground he helps her get in the front seat, holding his hand out for her keys. Furrowing her brow she hands it to him. Walking to her car he places it by her front tire under the car, and walks back to his car, sliding in smoothly, “Trust me?”
She doesn’t know why she nods, she barely knows the guy— sure he saved her life, but that doesn’t mean she has to trust him. Smiling at her answer he peels out of the parking lot back towards Beacon Hills.
Her mind has one question, but she doesn’t know how to ask it, sensing this he says,
“What’s on your mind?”
“…How did you find me?”
He keeps his eyes on the road, smirking, “I was out for a drive when I caught your scent, thought I’d stop by and say hi.”
She doesn’t say anything, just stares at him waiting for the truth, sighing he reaches over to the glove box, handing her her scarf.
“Th-that’s my scarf! You stole my scarf?”
“Noooo, you left it, I just haven’t been able to give it back to you. And aren’t you glad I didn’t? You’d be dead right now.” He laughs as she glares at him, snatching her scarf holding it close.
“Thanks for your vote of confidence.” She turns her attention out the window looking at the stars, still feeling nervous about what just happened, mumbling to herself she leans on the armrest, “When I said ‘I wish I could be with you’, I didn’t mean today.”
“What?”
“Nothing.” She says, shaking her head leaning forward in her seat. She jolts at the feel of Peter’s hand pushing her to sit back. Removing his hand from her with a look of dejection, she quickly grabs his hand placing it on her lap, “S-sorry, just everything’s still got me hyper aware.”
She squeezes his hand and he does the same nodding at her, but now it’s his turn to ask a question on his mind.
“How is it that you fight literal monsters, but a few human guys terrify you?”
She stiffens at his question letting his hand go as if it’s the most disgusting thing she’s ever held.
Okay, so that might not have been the best thing to say to her, and he could’ve worded it differently, but it’s Peter, come on.
“With monsters I know all they want to do is kill me or eat me. With humans the sky's the limit, and they made it very apparent what they had in mind before they killed me, and I wasn’t about to go through that again.” She gives him a hard look and he doesn’t have to be a rocket scientist to know what she’d talking about, he gives her a once over— not in a condescending manner, but out of concern, sighing she looks down at her hands on her lap, messing with her fingernails, “I was a freshman in college— wasn’t drinking because I’m responsible, but someone still managed to spike my soda. I’m sure you can fill in the blanks.”
“Why didn’t you say anything?”
“Why would I? We aren’t friends, besides Lydia and Derek know— in vivid detail.”
“Derek knows?!”
“Yeah, only because he was there when I dropped Lydia off the first time I came back to town. Lydia and I were already talking about my time in college and she wanted some tips of do’s and don’t’s. So I shared.” Y/N shrugs like it was the most normal thing ever— they both know she’s just coping.
“What happened to the guy?”
“I don’t know, I never saw him after that— not that I saw his face, he wore a ski mask and had a condom. I didn’t even bother to go to the police.”
“Y/N.”
“What I was dealing with a lot of stuff at the time, I couldn’t let one more thing be added to my plate. Not when my family was going through so much, the last thing they needed was for someone else to be shattered and broken.”
“You still should’ve gotten help, or called the Pack— we would’ve helped you.”
“Pete.” She chuckles out turning her head to him smirking, “You were the certified ‘vegetable turned bad guy’ and Derek was in his feelings, you didn’t even change Scott at the time this happened.”
“Oh.” She lightly pats his hand still on her thigh, smiling at him, before looking back out of the window. Seeing the sign for Beacon Hills she puffs out her cheeks thinking about what the Pack will say when they see her. Her heart begins to beat fast and the light squeeze on her thigh gains her attention, “Relax, I’m taking you home.”
“No! That’ll be the first place Lydia will look for me, and I cannot let her see me like this.”
“Alright, I know where they can’t find you.”
Driving across town, he pulls into his apartment parking lot texting Derek with instructions to get her car from the nature sanctuary and hints that he might want to clean up the mess inside the sanctuary. Derek is quick to reply with questions and when those go ignored he starts calling Peter’s phone. Clicking his tongue he shuts his phone off helping Y/N into his apartment. He carries her to his room and into the bathroom placing her on the sink counter.
“I’ll get you some clothes.”
“‘Kay.” She kicks off her very muddy sneakers and looks down at her clothes in the light, “Oh, shit.” Her black skinny jeans have dry mud and twigs caked on, her once clean red sweater is muddy with pieces of gravel stuck to it and shoe prints on it, some dry blood and that when she turns to face the mirror. Her eyes widen at the amount of dry blood leading from her nose to her chin, she can see there’s going to be a bruise on her cheek and there was no way she would be able to keep this from the pack.
Peter walks in, placing a towel, a shirt and a pair of sweats down on the counter, stopping to look as Y/N examines herself. He feels himself getting angry all over again as she tries to rub the dirt from her hands.
“It’s not as bad as it could’ve been.” She says, sliding off of the counter, she winces as she takes off his jacket and unzips her sweater, moving to help her, he remembers her words in the car about what happened to her in college, freezing as his fingers graze the hem of her shirt, “I need help taking off my shirt, Peter, yes you can help me.”
Lifting her arms up with a groan, he opts to just use his claw to cut her shirt open, she lets out a sound of despair as watches the shirt fall off of her body, “I’ll get you another one.”
“The fuck you will, money doesn’t grow on trees. That was my favorite shirt.” He smiles at her but it soon fades at the bruises forming on her stomach and ribs, gently he traces one of them, stopping when she flinches at his touch, “Can I just shower now?”
“Yeah.” He steps back as she motions for him to turn around. Turning he hears her unzip her jeans and it takes everything in him not to peck at the mirror. She uses him for support leaning against his back as she pulls them off and then sheds her underwear. Stepping into the shower she pulls the curtain, turning the water on and then the shower. She hisses as the water hits her aching body and groans as she watches blood and dirt roll off her body, running her fingers in her hair she sighs deeply as she begins to pull small twigs, mulch, and tiny pebbles out.
“Is it okay if I use your shampoo and stuff?”
“That’s kind of the point of taking shower— to use the stuff.” She rolls her eyes at his response and begins to clean her everything.
When she gets to her face she takes her time, not trying to make it worse than what it already is. Ringing out her hair, she snags some more conditioner and works that in her hair, turning off the water and padding to the counter, wrapping herself in the fluffy towel. Carefully drying herself off she pats her hair dry letting the air do the rest and begins searching for the lotion.
“Why the hell do white people not use lotion?” She mutters to herself, when she hears Peter reply on the other side of the door.
“It’s under the sink.”
Glancing at the door with mild trepidation she looks in the cabinet under the sink— sure enough there’s the lotion, the same one she uses no less. Holding it up she pauses, looking at the door, then back at the bottle of lotion and then to the side, the gears moving in her head.
“There’s no way he uses this, he doesn’t even smell like this… did- did he… no, no maybe he has a girlfriend or something. Yeah, he’s a good looking guy, wouldn’t be surprised if he did.”
Pushing any more thoughts from her head she puts it on, lightly going over her bruised areas and then skillfully slips on the shirt. When she picks up the sweats that’s when she realizes she doesn’t have any underwear. Closing her eyes she sighs deeply, remembering she put it in the pile of clothes he took out. Shaking her head she puts them on and double knots it, just to be sure they won’t fall or anything.
Limping out of the bathroom, she finds Peter coming into the bedroom holding a cup of hot something.
“Um, I don't know if you like tea, or coffee- since you know, we aren’t friends.” She smiles at his words, rolling her eyes jutting out her hip as he continues, “But I made hot chocolate— everyone likes that.”
“I don’t.” She bursts out laughing at the look on his face and he soon glares at her growling as he sets it down on the nightstand, “I’m sorry, I couldn’t pass that moment up, it was too perfect.”
“Yeah, yeah. Drink your hot chocolate and go to bed, Y/N.” He walks to the door when she calls out to him.
“You aren’t staying?”
“Not if you don’t want me to.” He glances at the bed and back to her, taking in how she looks wearing his clothes. It fills him with pride seeing her look so comfortable and in place standing in his apartment— in his room. He’d be lying if he said their scents didn’t mix perfectly, he is sure glad he bought that lotion when he did. He never thought he’d see the day Y/N would be here, he’d have liked it more under different circumstances but he’ll take what he can get.
“I want you to.” Nodding his head he walks over to the bed and lays down and just watches her as she seems too flustered to do much. Shifting her weight she asks, “Don’t you… want to shower first?”
He’s about to say something suggestive, but follows her eyes as they go over him, looking down he sees the problem,
“Yeah, I probably should.” Getting up he pulls off his very bloody shirt tossing it out of the bedroom and begins unbuttoning his jeans, Y/N looks away as he basically strips in front of her and makes his way to the bathroom. Closing the door he calls out, “Can you just put those in the washer machine?”
“Um, yeah?” Picking up the various items of clothing she walks out of the room hunting for the washer machine, “Just wish I knew where you keep it.”
Finally finding it, she pauses the cycle and tosses in his clothes starting it up again, and can’t help but feel at home here. It’s quiet, it’s calm, it’s peaceful. She’s almost envious of Peter for being able to keep a place to himself for so long without the Pack finding it and making it their ‘new home’.
Going back to the room, she sits on the bed, back to the headboard sipping her hot chocolate. She hears the water turn off and her heartbeat quickens as she doesn’t remember Peter taking any clothes into the bathroom with him.
He opens the door, and sure enough all he has is a towel around his waist as he steps out smirking at Y/N as she turns her head away from him, sipping her hot chocolate.
Moving to the dresser— which is in front of her— he pulls out his clothes letting the towel fall to the floor. Biting her lips she tries to hide behind her cup and her hair sneaking glances at him.
She thought she was sneaking glances. What she was doing was just staring, and he could see her out of the corner of his eye. Smiling, he looks at her, making her jump and turn her head to look at the wall, clearing her throat. She feels herself growing hot but blames it on the drink in her hands coupled with the sweat pants.
Now fully dressed Peter lays down next to her, smiling like a fool, he opens his mouth but Y/N cuts him off,
“Not a word, Mr. Hale. Not one word.”
“Oh, so it’s, ‘Mr. Hale’ again now is it? What happened to ‘Peter’ or my favorite, ‘Pete’?”
“I didn’t… oh I did call you Pete, didn’t I?”
“You did.” He places his arms under his head smiling up at Y/N, who is at a loss for words.
“Sorry about that.”
“It’s fine, just don’t make a habit of it.” She nods her head, sipping her hot chocolate looking straight ahead now, he bumps his elbow on her knee gaining her attention, “Penny for your thoughts.”
“No thoughts, head empty.” He grins at her words waiting for a real answer, “I don’t think I can go to sleep, my body is exhausted but I just don’t think I can sleep, not after everything that happened. Not with what today is.”
Furrowing his brow, he sits up looking at her as she stares into her cup, “What’s today?”
“Today’s- today is the day my dad died. It wasn’t a horrible death or anything dramatic like you’re used to, he died in his sleep, at home. The nature sanctuary was where we planned on going today, but he was already dead— we used to go there all time when I was a kid. It was a happy place for me growing up, now it’s just added to my list of trauma— and that list is growing.” She stifles a laugh looking into her cup.
Sitting up Peter lifts her chin up so she’ll look at him. She’s met with soft caring blue eyes, and it startles her for a moment, looking away she clears her throat knowing he heard the change in her beating heart. Sighing, Peter wraps an arm around Y/N, pulling her into a hug; she lets out a sound of surprise, not wanting to spill her drink. Peter ignores this and tucks her under his chin, holding her close lightly rubbing her arm. Pulling herself from his grasp, she places the cup on the nightstand and turns back to him getting comfortable in his hold. He smiles to himself as she drapes an arm over his waist, slotting herself against him— it feels right, it feels perfect… he feels whole.
“… You’re warm.” She mutters listening to the werewolf’s heartbeat, slowly feeling sleep creep up on her.
“Just one of the many perks of being me.” He laughs at the soft scoff she gives him, before looking up at him with tired eyes.
“You’re so humble.” Giving him a lazy smile, her eyes drop to his lips before going back to his eyes and there’s a shift in the air. The once tired and calm air between them is now alight with a buzz; a buzz that seems to tickle their skin, give her butterflies, make goosebumps trail on her arm where he touches. It makes his heartbeat faster— his senses become flooded with her.
He can smell the change in her, and then he sees it. Her pupils are blown, almost blending in with her dark brown eyes, her breath is coming out shallow and her heart is beating as loudly as his. Pulling away from her, he tilts his head searching her face for something, furrowing his brow they just stay still watching each other— not sure what to do.
Her brain is flooded with questions, but they soon become muddled and fuzzy as she watches his eyes shift from blue to cobalt with wide pupils. Willing herself to sit up, she leans forward slightly, eyes never leaving his.
Taking a deep breath she asks, “Can I kiss you?”
Not giving her a verbal answer he leans the rest of the way, careful not to hurt her, and they both sigh into the kiss. Placing a hand on his cheek she tries to deepen the kiss, making him growl in response, pushing her down to the bed. She lets out a small moan as he cards his fingers in her curls tugging on it, exposing her neck to him, as he trails kisses up and down it.
Her fingers are tightly gripping his shirt pulling him closer. Grabbing her hands, he holds them over her head looking down at her with lust filled eyes. Sighing deeply he pulls away from her, leaving her confused.
“What?”
“We shouldn’t do this.” There’s a sting in her chest as his words bounce in her brain, shaking his head quickly rephrases his statement, “We shouldn’t do this now— not while you’re injured. I’m not one for really being gentle.” She shivers at his words and he groans at the sight, leaning his forehead on her shoulder, “You really are making this hard.”
“Good.” Y/N lightly bites his ear causing him to lay on top of her, she can feel the effects of what she’s doing to him, and she loves every second of it, “If you were gentle, we’d have a problem.”
“Y/N, seriously…” Peter’s tone was meant to be scolding, but it came out wanting— wanting her, wanting to make her scream his name, wanting her to feel how he really felt for her, wanting her to be his forever. She has him wrapped around her little finger so tight, he’s stuck wondering if she’s always felt like this for him. Propping himself up he looks down at the girl needing to know, he moves his face further away from her as she moves to kiss him, grinning at the whine she gives him, “Y/N, just answer one question for me… Do you really want me or is this just White Knight Syndrome?”
Y/N gives him a questioning look before thinking hard about her answer. She knows that she never had a dislike for him, even when he would throw insults her way, but those were much less than what he said to the others. She always felt like they had a connection of sorts, but never tried to explore it, because of the Pack.
When Derek first invited her to the Pack meetings it was because she was attacked by a hunter, after they saw her walking around town with Lydia and Scott. Derek didn’t want her to get hurt, but he had to warn her about his uncle— he couldn’t be trusted and he hates humans, so he told her everything about him. How he killed Derek’s sister, changed Scott, killed a few people in town— she was freaked out, but when she saw him.. when she laid eyes on the ‘big bad wolf’ she was smitten.
Of course she couldn’t let anyone know that— especially not Peter! He was a master manipulator, he’d surely twist things around in her head if he ever found out how she felt for him; so she kept it hidden. She hid it so well, she herself forgot she had a thing for the older wolf— that is until she saw him again.
She was surprised he didn’t speak to her when she walked in, in the sense that he didn’t say anything rude or snarky. He just watched her from his seat on his couch with a smirk of sorts playing on his lips. They seemed to fall into a kind of rhythm and got comfortable with one another pretty quickly and that was starting to freak her out a bit, and with her father’s death anniversary coming up it wasn’t helping her in the least.
So she went AWOL for a bit and she hated every second she was away from Peter, it was like he was her lifeline of sorts and that scared her more. Y/N wasn’t sleeping or eating properly, and overworking herself just made it worse, that she started smelling Peter at random times during the day— but of course he wasn’t there.
Someone would walk into the bakery wearing cologne that smells similar to his and her heart would skip a beat from the smell alone; when she had enough of the teasing smells provided by the universe she drove to Derek’s loft to get the smell straight from the source. Seeing the couch vacant she makes a beeline for it laying down, finally relaxing as his scent encompasses her— and then he bursts that bubble demanding answers from her.
Y/N was so angry that she did the only logical thing, she yelled at him, and then she ignored him. His need to know where she was and what she was doing was so off putting to her that she couldn’t stomach to be near him— but she still felt that need. She became angry with herself and she knew she needed to think clearly about everything, she just couldn’t figure out why Peter was so concerned with her when they never had a decent conversation before— and sure what’s currently happening probably isn’t the best thing, after what just happened to her, but it feels right.
Taking a deep breath she looks Peter dead in his eyes, “I want you, I’ve wanted you since the beginning.” Peter almost loses himself at her words, stopping himself from making her his as their conversation in the car replays in his mind, seeing his hesitation Y/N slides her hand out of his grasp and gently cupping his face, “I want this and I trust you.”
Relief floods his body as he kisses her deeply, as she allows him to explore her body, lightly trailing his hands under her shirt, pulling it over her head. She huffs out an annoyed, “Oh sure, you don’t rip your shirt, but you’ll rip mine. I see how it is.”
Smirking, he nips her bottom lip, “I like that shirt, and I like you in it.”
Chuckling at his words, her next words get caught in her throat as he takes her nipple in his mouth, giving it as much attention as he can before moving to the next one. Y/N tugs on his hair pulling him back up to her kissing him fervently.
“You have too many clothes on, Peter.” She mumbles against his lips making him laugh as he begins to suck on her neck— there’s definitely going to be a mark. Sitting up he begins undoing the knot she tied on her sweats, not once bothering to shed any of his clothes. Y/N glares at him, but soon gets lost in the feeling of his fingers teasing her folds.
“So wet already.” He teases her as he pushes his fingers inside her, using his thumb he lightly rubs her clit leaning down watching her get lost at his touch, “Fucking gorgeous.”
Y/N lets out a gasp at his words, fisting the sheets under her as her walls clench around his fingers. Growling at the feeling he starts pumping his fingers faster, bringing her closer to her orgasm. Gripping his arm tightly in one hand, she feels the coil in her core getting ready to snap, her body grows hot as she gets closer, and closer; and right when her release is about to wash over her, he pulls his fingers out of her. Mouth agape she watches him in disbelief as he licks his fingers clean, he gives her a shit eating grin pulling his shirt and pants off. Her eyes widen at his size as he pumps himself a few times, hearing the spike in her heart beat he kisses her lightly.
“If you want me to stop, just say so and we will.”
“No, I want this.” She puts her arms around his neck, kissing him back adding, “Just don’t break me please.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”
Carefully and slowly he pushes himself inside her, relishing the feeling of her taking him so well. Cursing under his breath at the feeling of being inside her, he looks at the look on her face— the warmest and brightest of smiles. He feels himself twitch inside her and she clenches in response earning a growl from him; pulling out of her he snaps his hips forward, kissing her as she gasps at the feeling.
He hits all the right spots, quickly setting the pace as he hooks her leg around his waist. Resting his head in the crook of her neck, he can’t help but imagine how perfect she’d look with his mark on her for all to see.
Seemingly reading his mind Y/N pants out, “Bite me, please.”
Her breathing becomes heavy as his fangs rip into her skin, the pain was there for a moment being replaced with pleasure soon after. His thrusts become harder but sloppy as he listens to her mumbled ‘yes, harder, don’t stop’.
Pulling out of her, he flips her onto her stomach sliding back inside he snakes his hand to her throat squeezing it lightly. Moaning at the feeling, she arches her back glancing at him over her shoulder, getting the hint he squeezes her throat again while rubbing her clit again.
Her body is nearing the end once again, as her eyes become hooded, “Don’t you dare stop this time.”
He chuckles lowly in her ear whispering, “I can’t, not when you take me as well.”
Y/N mewls at his words as she reaches her peak, shaking as her walls start to milk him, he helps her ride out her orgasm feeling his approaching. His thrusts are sloppier than before and he lets out a loud moan when Y/N says, “I want you to finish inside me.”
Two more thrust later he holds her close emptying himself inside her, both panting at the feeling. She shivers at the thought of having Peter’s kids and involuntarily clinches around him again. They stay unmoving for a few minutes enjoying the bliss of one another— him behind her, holding her to his chest not letting her go.
Peter finally pulls out of her watching his essence spill out of her, smiling as it does, gently turning her on her back. Her eyes are closed and he knows she’s already sleeping, getting a cloth he cleans her up and pulls the covers over the both of them.
When the sun comes pouring into the room, Y/N stretches stopping when she feels her body protest. Peter was right, they should’ve waited, but it was worth it; looking around the room she finds that she’s alone. Getting up slowly she goes to the bathroom smiling at the mark he left her. Putting on her now clean clothes she walks into the kitchen where Peter is making breakfast. Hearing her footsteps he turns, giving her a warm smile and motions for her to sit down, she spots her phone in the corner being charged and reaches for it, turning it on as he places a plate of food in front of her.
“I don’t remember putting this to charge.” She states taking a big bite of food.
“You didn’t, I did, and you’re welcome.”
“Thank you Peter.” She playfully rolls her eyes at him, and her face is shocked as notification after notification fills her phone.
55 missed calls from Lydia, 162 unread texts from Lydia, 132 missed calls from Derek, 45 unread texts from Stiles, 208 missed calls from Scott, and the worse one yet… 3 missed calls from Mom. “Oh god… I’m so dead.”
Peter walks around looking at her phone reading the notifications, “Wow, they really blew up your phone, but I doubt they’ll kill you.”
“That’s not the Pack I’m worried about! I missed 3 calls from my mom—3!” Y/N begins to panic and rehearses what kind of excuse would be good enough for her mom.
“How about, I was almost killed yesterday by 4 guys and needed time to recover?”
“She won’t fall for that, Peter!” She pauses hearing her words, “Oh wait. That did happen though. Okay I’m gonna call her—”
FACETIME MOM
“WHAT DO I DO?!”
“Answer it, babe.” Peter reaches over answering the call, smiling at the woman on the screen. “Hi there.”
“Y/N, who is that and why is he answering your phone?” Her mom pauses looking at her daughter’s face closely.
Needless to say the next three hours were full of yelling and cursing— not directed at Y/N, but at the events that happened the night before. At the end her mom was a crying mess informing Y/N that she was coming to visit her right away, to help be there for her child and personally thank the man that saved her child’s life… of course she doesn’t know how Peter saved her, but she’s still thankful.
Hanging up, Y/N leans back in her chair sighing deeply, “Well… that was my mom.”
Peter laughs rubbing her back soothingly, “Nice lady.”
“Yeah, when she wants to be.”
They gaze at each other leaning in for a kiss when Y/N’s phone starts ringing again. Groaning, she answers it without checking the caller ID, “Yes?!”
“Y/N YOU’RE ALIVE?!?! WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU?!?! DID PETER HURT YOU, I SWEAR TO GOD IF HE DID ANYTHING—”
“WHOA!! SLOW DOWN THERE… Lydia?”
“YES!?”
“Stop yelling at me, you are not my mother— who coincidentally I just spoke to. What’s going on? What’s with all the messages and missed calls? You realize I’m never going to get through all 359 voicemails right? And if I was actually dead I’d never get to them at all.” Y/N gives Peter an exasperated look, to which he moves to stand behind her, brushing her hair to the side and kisses the mark he left her. She shivers at the feeling and lazily swats him away, but he continues.
“We were so worried, we went to the location Peter gave us to get your car— all your tires were slashed, there was blood— a lot of blood, and 4 dead guys! Not to mention Peter was the one who got there first, so we didn’t know what to think.” As Lydia speaks Y/N isn’t paying much attention, as Peter sneaks his hands up her shirt massaging her breasts whispering suggestive words in her other ear.
“I get it, but I’m fine— apart from a few bruises and mild trauma. But I’m fine.” Getting up from her chair she lets Peter walk her to his room, pushing her on the bed.
“You sure?” Lydia asks with uncertainty in her voice.
“Positive, I’ll see you guys tomorrow at the next meeting, I need to get my car from Derek anyway. Right now I just need to relax and recover.” She bites her lip glancing at Peter who is taking his clothes off and unbuttoning her jeans pulling them off, “Lydia, I’ll uh call you later. Bye.”
“By-”
“You didn’t have to hang up on your friend, Y/N.” Peter smiles devilishly at her as he kneels in front of her kissing her inner thigh, placing his hand on her stomach, pushing her to lay down on the bed.
“Oooohhh yes I did.” Her words come out shaky as he licks her folds teasingly. Her hands find their way to his hair as he starts to suck on her clit making her say— loudly, “YEAH! DefiniteLY did!”
Chuckling he lays his head on her thigh smiling, “Oh we are going to have so much fun, Y/N.”
——————————
A/N: Well this was fun to write, I should really stop opening new docs and finish my WIPs…. Naaaaaahhhhh. I kid, I kid.
