this title has like .5% of anything to do with this fic but i don’t know if i’ll ever have another omega-centric fic and i’m not one to let titles pass me by so here you go bby
Warning: PTSD behaviours, panic attack andÂ
Request:Â what if you were an omega that has come to beacon hills and Derek oddly has a sweet spot for you. Only problem is you've been through hell and is very flinchy and scared all the time. (Can be whatever you think fits best) I dont know if this is good, but if I'm not gonna write it might as well ask someone who can
“You obviously like her.” Scott sighs, watching as Lydia holds a purple dress up to you.
“I- What? I’ve never liked- I’ve never liked anyone in my life!” Derek scoffs, gaping comically and Peter huffs a soft chuckle.
“I can attest to that.”
You peek over your shoulder at the three of them, a small smile on your lips and Derek feigns a blank mask.
Holding your ground, you pressed your lips together hard and watched the alpha circle you. You couldn’t help quaking just the minutest bit with every step he took.
Bowing your head, you stared hard at his feet, trying to pretend that there weren’t four others in the clearing with you.
“What’s your name?” The alpha demands and you take a slow, steadying breath.
“Y/N.” Your voice doesn’t waver and it fills you with a flimsy confidence. You might by as jumpy as a doe in hunting season, but you’ve always had a steady voice in the worst of circumstances.
“What’re you doing in our territory, Y/N?” The alpha stops circling and instead stands above you like a god. Your skin crawls.
The others around him step up beside him, nearly even with him and while it’s unusual, you’re not about to question this hierarchy.
“I’m an omega, I only do one thing.” You snip, clenching your teeth once the words are past your lips. Bracing for a blow, you try not to quiver as the moment drags.
“That’s fair.” The alpha seems to chuckle and it makes your insides curdle. Exhaling a breath through your teeth, you let your eyes flicker to the men and women around him, but it doesn’t help. “Are you looking for sanctuary or passage?”
One of his people grunts, or snorts, and you shiver at the sound. The brush behind you shakes and you nearly trip in your tiny jump forward.
“Check it out.” The alpha orders and one of them peels away, the girl, and he exhales a sigh. “You’re welcome to remain in our territory for as long as you need, I don’t expect you’ll hang around long.”
“I won’t, I promise.” You gasp, letting your gaze flicker to where his heart rests.
“None of my pack will harm you while you’re here. What’s the word…” He’s telling the truth and you don’t even notice the soft answer from his side and the short jokes between him and whoever answered him.
“Look! A squirrel.” The woman calls, throwing a bloody little mass of fur between you and the alpha and your fingers twitch. You want it. So badly, you’re so bad at catching anything to eat.
“What the f- Dammit, Malia.” The Alpha snaps, taking a few steps back and your hand snatches forward and you hold the squirrel in a tight grip.
“Why is she…? Wait, what?”
“Tell her she can’t have it.”
“It’s probably diseased, tell her she can’t have it.” The insistence of the voice worries you. Maybe he wants the squirrel, and you’d have to give it up.
“Drop it.” The Alpha orders and your fingers release the bloody morsel automatically and you hear one of the three relax. Your gaze doesn’t move from the wasted meal. In the dirt, discarded. “We’ll feed you.”
The red-haired girl gazes at you curiously. Malia sits across the room, watching you pityingly. The Alpha consults with the Insistent Voice from earlier and the human.
“What was your name again?” The red-haired girl asks and you stare at her for a second, stock still before you chew fast and swallow hard.
“Y/N.” You answer, ducking your chin and filling your mouth with another forkful of the fried rice.
“Has anyone told you who we are?” She asks and you shake your head once, not looking up. She’s high ranked, with how disregards the Alphas presence. Even Malia, who was in the field at his side, gravitates around him.
“I’m Lydia.” She says, ducking some and forcing you to meet her eyes. “The other girl over there is Malia, and the human over there’s name is Stiles.”
You track the people as she says their names, watching as they individually look up at the sound of their name before avoiding your gaze.
“Beside Malia sits Isaac, and on the couches are Liam, a Beta and Mason, the human.” She continues and you inhale a long breath, your head tilting as you take in the boy beside the human. His cheeks flush and his body tilts toward Mason as if for a shield. “Beside Mason is Cory, a Chameleon.”
You blink at the rarity owlishly. You’d never met one but your mom had told you legends of them and where they sat on the fence. They might not have danced along it like Banshees, but they sat on it, their legs swinging over the side of the living. The subtle opposite of the Wild Hunt.
You’d loved her legends of the realm of the living dead. Banshees who were queens of an entire hidden world. Hell hounds who ran into a battle like an avenging knight and walked out of a pile of corpses and back to their waiting Banshee.
When she’d spoken of the dead realm, it’d always put chills down your spine but you couldn’t deny the curiosities.
But in all the legends, nothing was clearer than that the Banshees were rulers, above Alphas, the Wild Hunt, the Hellhounds and any other creature that faced against them. Chameleons included.
“Those two girls are Kira and Allison. Allison is another human, from a Hunter family-” You flinch violently before you can brace and Lydias words die on her lips. You want her to continue, but you’ve made it weird and your throat is getting tight.
Setting down your fork, your eyes go to the closest exit.
“And by our Alpha over there is Derek Hale.” She continues hurriedly and your racing heartbeat slows. That’s a name.
Your eyes slide over the dark-haired man, the insistent voice, and he stares right back at you. You remember your mother making jokes about betrothing you to “the little Hale prince”. She made the joke so often, for a while you thought it was a fact, that he was a prince and you’d become a princess.
Instead, your world had come crashing down with a rogue alpha and a pack of hunters that’d been tracking him.
“Scott is our Alpha. A true alpha.” Lydia continues, though your gaze hasn’t broken from Dereks until the words work themselves into your brain. Suffused with amazement, your gaze clashes with the Alphas and the kindness in his eyes drains the blood from your face.
“Nice to meet you, Y/N.” Scott smiles and you drop your gaze. Shovelling in another mouthful of food, you chew fast.
“She needs new clothes, any unperishable food she can carry, new shoes and either a haircut or a hairbrush.” Derek says, drawing Scotts attention, and yours right along with it.
“Sure, sure. What else?”
“I can’t remember, we just need it fast. I remember Mom didn’t meet many omegas, the territory had too much status, but mostly, they were gone before she could help them.” Derek continues, the stench of grief wafting from his pores. You feel your own rise up to meet it and his gaze flickers to you curiously.
“You’ll look so pretty, you just have to wear this.” Lydia fusses about you, throwing the dress in her hands onto the couch and picking the brush back up. Your new haircut had your hair much shorter and there were no knots anymore.
You squeak softly as she roughly tears the brush through a knot. Maybe a few domestic knots, the kind of knots of a pack wolf.
Across the room Derek is scowling at Scott and Peter. His ears are a soft pink and you feel a surge of affection for him.
“Derek.” You say, glad when the three of them look up. Beckoning the wolf to your side, the other two share a look and smile that doesn’t make much sense. “I’m confused about what is happening tonight?”
Lydia pauses in brushing your hair and she shares a look with Derek. They think something wrong, obviously. You’re rescuing him from his family.
“We’re all just going to a club because Malia bullied everyone else into a night of dancing.”
A growl sounds across the room and you feel yourself go still, your gaze boring into Dereks eyes.
The quick movement of his hand has you flinching, even though you don’t feel threatened by him. His eyes cloud over, and you let your gaze drop to the hand that had just flipped over. You stare at the palm before you, watching him slide it toward you.
Lifting your own hand, you hesitantly set it in his and he exhales a relief filled breath.
“You’ll be safe, we’ll all be right there and if you want to leave at any time, I hope you’ll come to me before any of the others. Any reason to cut tonight short.” He grumbles playfully and you nod, letting a smile twitch at your lips.
“Let’s get you dressed.” Lydia says, pulling your hand from Dereks and snatching up the dress. You don’t look back as you follow her, the muscles in your shoulder tight and ready if someone tries to jump you from behind.
The music is twenty shades of too much, to say the least.
You’d been groped, in turn nearly revealed your supernatural secret, whisked from the dancefloor, plied with bitter alcohol that did nothing for you and all night you’d been ducking left and right from imaginary foes.
You’re safe, you’ve been told, assured and promised that you’re safe but your body just can’t compute and every time someone throws their arms in the air you’re filled with raw fear.
Dereks arm rests over your shoulders and you’re tucked tight into his side.
You feel bad, you’re cramping his style and ruining his fun night but every time you try to move, he gives you half a glare and you sigh and lean back into him.
“We can leave in half an hour.” Derek whispers to you, the words flimsy compared to the thumping beat and you’re glad of your werewolf ears.
Scott shoots him a look from across the table and Derek smirks at the young alpha.
“We don’t have to go, I don’t want to ruin your night.” You whisper back and he laughs, sighing lazily as he presses his forehead to yours. His breath runs over your lips and you force yourself not to tilt your face and bridge the tiny gap that separates your lips.
You’re torn up inside and you can’t let anyone love you until you’re better, it’s just better that way.
“C’mere.” Derek rumbles, his expression lazy and sleepy. He looks warm, rumpled and comfy and you ache to do just as he says.
“I- I can’t, I need to get the- thing.” You say, instead darting around the back of the couch, only to scream as he captures you and pulls you over the back and into his arms. Your heart races a mile a second and you feel your muscles lock up.
It’s Derek, you know it’s Derek, but you can’t physically see him and your brain feels like it’s going to explode.
“Y/N, inhale.” Derek orders softly, adjusting your paired positions so his eyes fill your gaze and you feel yourself hiccup on nothing, panic filling you the more you try to inhale. His warm palm settles over your mouth, stilling you and you blink at him. “I’m so sorry, I’m so, so sorry.”
His palm leaves your lips and you inhale a short breath, the panic leeching from your skin.
“I shouldn’t have done that, I didn’t think, I’m so sorry.” He says, his worry stark in his expression and you nod. You’re not going to say it was okay, it wasn’t.
“I accept your apology.” You say, the words even and devoid of emotion and a smile twitches his lips.
“Thank you. I’m still sorry.” He agrees, raising his hand slowly enough for you to stop him, before he tucks a lock of your hair behind your ear. When he doesn’t make a move to remove his hand, you sigh and he presses his forehead to yours.
Love, want and affection fill the air, spiced with touches of need and regret.
You’re dizzy on the scent and your eyes fall closed to breath in the sweet smell.
“I’m sick.” You say before he can make a move and he nods a little, your head moving with the movement. “I want to get better.”
“I know.” He answers, a smile in his voice and it makes you pause.
“You’re- You know and you’re-”
“I’ve been there and I get it, I’ll be whatever you need when you need it. We all will.” He promises and you feel the wound up feeling in your chest unravel, your body melting against his and the couch back. “You have a home here, you have a home with me.”
excuse my awkward randomized capitalization of the wolf terms (idk, honestly)
also excuse any mistakes and ugly bits that’re in there- soz
