"It took you exactly 125 days to fall out of love with Derek."

Right now, you really don’t want to talk because with everything spiraling out of control, you just need a second to just breathe. You’re all too aware of his hand rubbing your shoulder, and actually, that’s more distracting than it ever was before. You’re imagining that hand in other places, and you know you shouldn’t because of everything that’s going on, but just for a second, you need to- 


His voice brings you out of your reverie, and you snap out of it and stare at him with a questioning look, but before he can ask what’s wrong, you lean in. You know you shouldn’t because other things are more important, but you need a distraction. Just for a second. One. Little. Moment. 

You can hear his heart, and it’s beating at a rate so fast and loud that even if you weren’t a werewolf, you’re sure that you could hear it as clear as day because it beats like a drum on a quiet summer night. And as your hand comes up to rest on his cheek and your thumb rubs, softly, almost hardly noticeable, you hear his heart skip a beat. His breathing quickens, and you can hear him swallow nervously.

He shifts his position above you, and he brushes against you just slightly, and that’s when you can’t take it anymore. You lean up and close the distance between your lips, and just when you think he’s going to pull away, he kisses back.

the body under the train tracks: sheriff stilinski

"What would you sell your soul for, Mr. Stilinski? Money, or fame? Or do you want that pretty little brunette of yours back. The one who fought desperately for her life? The one that spent her last years in that pristine hospital, attached to wires and machines?"

He can’t see a thing in the blackness, and if he wasn’t sober, he would think that he hallucinated the whole thing, but no, the woman came out of the shadows and she had those cold, dead, red eyes. And the worst part is, he wants to say yes. He really does.

"I want her back." 

But he can’t. He knows he can’t make the deal because he can’t leave Stiles. Not in 10 years and not ever, because he promised Stiles that day 6 years ago that he would never leave him. Not for anything.

"But I can’t do this." 

He wants her back more than anything in the world, but it would kill him to leave his son. 

"I can’t leave Stiles."

You adore everything about her: the way she smiles, the way she brushes her hair over her shoulder, and the way her nose crinkles when she smiles. It’s the way the sun shines on her bare back in the early morning and how she runs outside barefoot when she’s chasing butterflies. You like the way she moves her hips as she shimmies to music and you love the way snow falls on her dark eyelashes. She’s all you’ve ever wanted, all you’ve ever needed, and your heart beats out of your chest every single time she kisses you. 


"She was great, you know. She was all I ever wanted," She started, crossing her legs underneath her as he leaned back against her headboard. "She was a beauty, with long, dark hair and green eyes that sparkled like crystals and legs that went on for days, the kind that look even more gorgeous in heels and under a dress, the kind of tan legs that make you wonder what else is that tan,"

She took a breath, breathing in slowly and then letting it out even slower, “She loved winter. She would bundle up until all you could see was her nose and the second you’d look away, she’d lob one at you, and she would get so mad when I put snow in her hair! She really, really loved winter.” 

She clenched her fists tightly until he reached out and held her hand in his, and she squeezed his hands as tight as possible as she bit her lip and shook her head, “They buried her a week before Christmas while I was away at college.” She let out a choked sob, “They didn’t even fuckin’ call me!” 

the body under the train tracks: vernon boyd

"What would you give anything for?" Red glowed in the moonlight and she cupped his chin in her hand, "That pretty blond friend of yours?" She could see his expression change from angry to sad within seconds, but then it was back to anger. 

"You’re lying." 

"I can bring her back, and more, sweetheart. Just with a price." 

He clenches his fist, but he wants her back. He really does. She was all he had, she was the only one who understood him, and he still remembers her warm hand holding onto his as they ran from hunters. He can still hear her screams in his dreams at night, and he can’t block them out no matter how hard he tries. 

"What’s your price?" 

"I’ll come for you in ten years. You’ll have ten glorious years with that girl, but once your time comes, I’ll see you once more." 

She conveniently left out the part where hellhounds drag him to hell, not like it would scare him since he’s a hound himself, a killer in the darkness. He’s ripped out throats and held hearts in his hands, like a usual thing, killing. 

"I’ll do it." 

He can still feel the demon’s lips on his own later that night when he’s pressed against Erica, memorizing every inch of her body. He doesn’t count the days, but instead lives every day like it’s his last. 

"I’m going to die ten years from today." 

He knows it for a fact, and he never tells her, because she doesn’t need to know that he sacrificed his own life just to see her again.

the body under the train tracks: allison argent

"I don’t want to feel weak." 

"You ready to make a deal, beautiful?" Red lips were all she could see in the moonlight, and her heart beat just a tad faster as the woman stepped forward, "It’ll cost you." 

"I want to be strong." She holds her ground, her fists clenched, and she says no more as she watches the demon grin. 

Honestly, the demon doesn’t understand for once. She doesn’t understand why this girl would ask to be strong, when she’s already strong. She knows for a fact that Allison is fearless, not because she’s been watching her, but because she just knows. 

This is the girl that braves everything and runs with the wolves in the night, and she’s the one that can put an arrow through a heart from a mile away. She’s the one that fought for everyone that she’s ever loved and protected those that she didn’t, because that’s her way. 

"You sure?"

"I’ve never been more sure." 

She seals the deal with a kiss, and when she pulls away, there’s blood on her hands and a knife in the demon’s stomach. 

the body under the train tracks: derek hale

"Tell me, Mr. Hale, what would you give your life for?" She cocks her head before smiling a little, "Family? Friends? Love, perhaps?" She analyzes his expression- sorrowful, longing, and anger- before she finally knows precisely what he wants. But she wants him to say it for her, it’s more fun that way. 

"I think you know what I want," He growls and his teeth elongate in his mouth, and she knows he’s moments away from baring his teeth at her like an animal. 

"Oh no, no you don’t, Mr. Hale. Put those teeth away. That’s not very polite, considering I’m granting your wishes-" 

"For a price." He snarls, and next thing you know, his claws are inches from her throat. 

She rolls her eyes. 

"You can have all of them back. Your family. Mommy, daddy, and Laura dearest."

That seems to strike a chord in him, and he backs up, but still doesn’t say a word. 

"Do you want them or not, Mr. Hale? Because I have other work to do tonight." Not really, she didn’t, but she knew it would make him make a quicker decision, and hopefully the right one. 

"I do." 

And she leans forward, and kisses him, before pulling away and whispering in his ear, “Ten years, Mr. Hale. I’ll see you then.” 

When he gets home, Laura is sitting on his couch, watching some wedding show, and she turns, asks him to pop some popcorn for her, and he’s pretty sure that his heart stops. 

the body underneath the train tracks: stiles stilinski

"This comes with a price, you know."

She pulls him in for a kiss, unable to resist the grin that spreads across her lips. The red of her lipstick matches the color of the eyes in his mind, and as she pulls away, he finds himself wondering if this was a good idea or not, but he pushes it away because he honestly doesn’t care.

"Ten years, Mr. Stilinski. I’ll see you then." 

And she’s gone in a puff of air and he makes his way back to his jeep, knowing fully well what he’s done. He’s given up the rest of his life for ten years of absolute bliss. 

That Girl

She fucks to feel alive. 

It makes her feel sick inside at the end of the night when she’s putting on that same dress and those high heels, and when she’s reapplying her makeup in the mirror, she feels disgusted with her reflection. Her red lipstick is a little smeared and her hair is tangled, and she just wants to rip everything away sometimes and become someone new, if only for one night. 

She’s entirely aware of what this does to her. But sometimes, she just needs something with no strings attached, where she doesn’t need to worry about someone claiming to “love” her at the end of the night. Those words make her sick because they aren’t real, love isn’t real and she doesn’t understand how anyone could feel otherwise. 

But it’s fine, because she can finally feel again when her hands grip those sheets and she’s screaming out some random guy’s name that she won’t even remember in the morning.