I'm A Ghost (I Don't Know Where We're Gonna Go) (1/1)
Title: I'm A Ghost (And I Don't Quite Know Where We're Gonna Go)
Genre: Television
Series: Teen Wolf
Characters: Lydia Martin, Derek Hale
Spoilers: N/A
Rating: T, for language and implication
Summary: Prompted by avarosierthewicked, Kings of Leon - Knocked Up, also known as what happens when Derek makes plans without Lydia's input.
Disclaimer: Hey, ho! Mine? No.
Being a werewolf wasn't what you saw in the movies or read in books; there was no version of the creature in any form of media that came close to what it truly meant. In their teenage years Laura had been obsessed with reading science fiction, creating lists of all the little details that novels had gotten wrong. She'd argue with Uncle Peter over the finer points of metaphor in The Howling, sing Warren Zevon's “Werewolves of London” with their father, and discussed the irony of going as Little Red Riding Hood for Halloween with her mother. Her costume was half-finished, just the barest hint of the red satin cape to come, when the fire gutted their house and their family.
Derek lost more than just most of his kin that day, he lost a part of himself. There was no humor or fun to be found in being a werewolf anymore, only pride and honor and the need to carry on the heritage of his blood. What started as a pack of eleven became three survivors and with Uncle Peter barely hanging on it was more like two. He and Laura were evenly matched in terms of power and if their father had died in a true succession challenge it never would have been an issue. Peter had been his second but he was in a coma and the power filtered down through the blood seeking a home. Derek let Laura have it, dropped knee and gave his loyalty, and did his best not to chafe under her leadership. It wasn't easy, but nothing about being a werewolf was.
There was nothing dual-sided about being a werewolf. There was no beast that existed inside him, pushing at the boundaries of his control. The wolf was as much a part of his nature as his love for fast cars and dangerous women. The wolf was the easy to rile temper that caused his jaw to clench and his eyes to flash red at provocation. The wolf was his burning drive to be physically strong and to take care of those in his pack and that he cared for. Being a werewolf exaggerated the personality and physicality of bitten betas but for an alpha the strength of emotion and instinct was almost irresistible. An alpha was judged by their ability to control themselves; out-of-control alphas were the target of challenge and elimination.
That, of course, was the crux of his current impasse with Lydia Martin. She stood in the doorway of his restored home, her hair curling delicately at the ends and her eyes narrowed at him. “Well? Do you have anything to say?”
“When do you plan on moving back to Beacon Hills permanently?”
“I had planned to spend the summer in New Haven wrapping up all the loose ends, packing my things, giving notice at the office where I've been working. I haven't sent out any resumes to the labs around here, I don't even know if I can get a job nearby!”
“You're graduating magna cum laude from Yale with a degree in Chemistry and Mathematics, and you think you won't be able to find a job here?”
“I'm also three months pregnant and I work with chemicals, Derek. No one is going to hire me when I will not be able to do half of my lab work and will be needing a maternity leave!”
Derek clenched his jaw, crossing the floor to stand near her, stopping several feet away when she backed into the door frame away from him. “Then you don't have to work until after the baby comes.”
“And how will I pay for my apartment? Food?”
“You'll stay here with me.”
Lydia scoffed, her hands clenching on her hips as she glared at him. “In what room?”
“Mine,” he responded, slowly inching forward, his eyes warming as they swept across her face, observing the way anger flushed her cheeks and the skin tightened around her mouth. He knew the way those lips felt on his body, had washed Revlon Red stains from his skin many a time, and had seen her smile at him and frown in equal measure since the two of them had started their on-again, off-again love affair five years ago.
“So we're going to go from casual hook-ups to living together? How does that make sense in your head? I can just as easily stay with my mother until this gets settled. She won't be happy with my condition-”
“It's settled, you're living here,” Derek interrupted, his lips tilting enough for it to be evident to her, who'd made an art of reading his expressions, that he wasn't as stoic about this as he was pretending to be.
“Derek-”
“Three months? That would've been spring break, right?” Derek asked, pressing his forearm to the door frame so that he leaned over her, her honeysuckle and lavender scent hitting his senses like sledgehammer and clouding his eyes with sensory memories of the last time he'd been this close to her. His free hand spread over her stomach, warming the curve of her torso where their child grew unnoticed.
Lydia's eyes drifted half shut, her lips parting with a tremble as she tilted her head back to meet his eyes. “We forgot the condom that one time, which is all juiced-up Alpha sperm needs, apparently.”
“I didn't forget,” Derek contradicted, smirking when her eyes shot back open and she gaped at him.
“Excuse me?”
“I didn't forget,” he repeated, his thumb rubbing back and forth against her stomach soothingly. “We'd been drinking, but I wasn't drunk. I hadn't seen you in three months, you were flashing your panties at me, and you are my mate. I brought you home, bent you over that table right there, and I fucked a baby into you. I did it because I wanted to. I did it because I've wanted to do it since you were seventeen and sneaking into my room after pack meetings. You test my control, Lydia.”
“I am not your mate. We just-”
His grin split his face, the sharp white of his teeth almost predatory in the shadowed entrance way. “Mated?”
“Derek!”
He silenced her protests with a kiss, nipping and suckling gently at her bottom lip until her trembling fingers slid into the hair at the base of his neck and she stretched out on the tips of her toes to curve her body into his. It was easy for him to lift her into his arms and swing her fully into the house, using his foot to send the front door swinging shut. He nuzzled his way down her neck, zeroing in on her ear lobe and with a practiced move of his tongue, unhooking and removed her earring.
“You could've just asked me to remove them,” Lydia pointed out huskily, moaning softly when Derek wrapped his tongue around her lobe and sucked hard.
“Sure,” he agreed, leaning back and setting her on feet. “Take off your skirt. I want to re-enact conception.”
Lydia smiled at him, though he could see that she was trying to suppress it. “Don't think you're forgiven for that. There will be repercussions.”
The sound of her zipper and his lowering in tandem was grating and he could see the shivers that slid across her skin as the sound carried.
“I look forward to it.”
_____
Review, please.
Genre: Television
Series: Teen Wolf
Characters: Lydia Martin, Derek Hale
Spoilers: N/A
Rating: T, for language and implication
Summary: Prompted by avarosierthewicked, Kings of Leon - Knocked Up, also known as what happens when Derek makes plans without Lydia's input.
Disclaimer: Hey, ho! Mine? No.
Being a werewolf wasn't what you saw in the movies or read in books; there was no version of the creature in any form of media that came close to what it truly meant. In their teenage years Laura had been obsessed with reading science fiction, creating lists of all the little details that novels had gotten wrong. She'd argue with Uncle Peter over the finer points of metaphor in The Howling, sing Warren Zevon's “Werewolves of London” with their father, and discussed the irony of going as Little Red Riding Hood for Halloween with her mother. Her costume was half-finished, just the barest hint of the red satin cape to come, when the fire gutted their house and their family.
Derek lost more than just most of his kin that day, he lost a part of himself. There was no humor or fun to be found in being a werewolf anymore, only pride and honor and the need to carry on the heritage of his blood. What started as a pack of eleven became three survivors and with Uncle Peter barely hanging on it was more like two. He and Laura were evenly matched in terms of power and if their father had died in a true succession challenge it never would have been an issue. Peter had been his second but he was in a coma and the power filtered down through the blood seeking a home. Derek let Laura have it, dropped knee and gave his loyalty, and did his best not to chafe under her leadership. It wasn't easy, but nothing about being a werewolf was.
There was nothing dual-sided about being a werewolf. There was no beast that existed inside him, pushing at the boundaries of his control. The wolf was as much a part of his nature as his love for fast cars and dangerous women. The wolf was the easy to rile temper that caused his jaw to clench and his eyes to flash red at provocation. The wolf was his burning drive to be physically strong and to take care of those in his pack and that he cared for. Being a werewolf exaggerated the personality and physicality of bitten betas but for an alpha the strength of emotion and instinct was almost irresistible. An alpha was judged by their ability to control themselves; out-of-control alphas were the target of challenge and elimination.
That, of course, was the crux of his current impasse with Lydia Martin. She stood in the doorway of his restored home, her hair curling delicately at the ends and her eyes narrowed at him. “Well? Do you have anything to say?”
“When do you plan on moving back to Beacon Hills permanently?”
“I had planned to spend the summer in New Haven wrapping up all the loose ends, packing my things, giving notice at the office where I've been working. I haven't sent out any resumes to the labs around here, I don't even know if I can get a job nearby!”
“You're graduating magna cum laude from Yale with a degree in Chemistry and Mathematics, and you think you won't be able to find a job here?”
“I'm also three months pregnant and I work with chemicals, Derek. No one is going to hire me when I will not be able to do half of my lab work and will be needing a maternity leave!”
Derek clenched his jaw, crossing the floor to stand near her, stopping several feet away when she backed into the door frame away from him. “Then you don't have to work until after the baby comes.”
“And how will I pay for my apartment? Food?”
“You'll stay here with me.”
Lydia scoffed, her hands clenching on her hips as she glared at him. “In what room?”
“Mine,” he responded, slowly inching forward, his eyes warming as they swept across her face, observing the way anger flushed her cheeks and the skin tightened around her mouth. He knew the way those lips felt on his body, had washed Revlon Red stains from his skin many a time, and had seen her smile at him and frown in equal measure since the two of them had started their on-again, off-again love affair five years ago.
“So we're going to go from casual hook-ups to living together? How does that make sense in your head? I can just as easily stay with my mother until this gets settled. She won't be happy with my condition-”
“It's settled, you're living here,” Derek interrupted, his lips tilting enough for it to be evident to her, who'd made an art of reading his expressions, that he wasn't as stoic about this as he was pretending to be.
“Derek-”
“Three months? That would've been spring break, right?” Derek asked, pressing his forearm to the door frame so that he leaned over her, her honeysuckle and lavender scent hitting his senses like sledgehammer and clouding his eyes with sensory memories of the last time he'd been this close to her. His free hand spread over her stomach, warming the curve of her torso where their child grew unnoticed.
Lydia's eyes drifted half shut, her lips parting with a tremble as she tilted her head back to meet his eyes. “We forgot the condom that one time, which is all juiced-up Alpha sperm needs, apparently.”
“I didn't forget,” Derek contradicted, smirking when her eyes shot back open and she gaped at him.
“Excuse me?”
“I didn't forget,” he repeated, his thumb rubbing back and forth against her stomach soothingly. “We'd been drinking, but I wasn't drunk. I hadn't seen you in three months, you were flashing your panties at me, and you are my mate. I brought you home, bent you over that table right there, and I fucked a baby into you. I did it because I wanted to. I did it because I've wanted to do it since you were seventeen and sneaking into my room after pack meetings. You test my control, Lydia.”
“I am not your mate. We just-”
His grin split his face, the sharp white of his teeth almost predatory in the shadowed entrance way. “Mated?”
“Derek!”
He silenced her protests with a kiss, nipping and suckling gently at her bottom lip until her trembling fingers slid into the hair at the base of his neck and she stretched out on the tips of her toes to curve her body into his. It was easy for him to lift her into his arms and swing her fully into the house, using his foot to send the front door swinging shut. He nuzzled his way down her neck, zeroing in on her ear lobe and with a practiced move of his tongue, unhooking and removed her earring.
“You could've just asked me to remove them,” Lydia pointed out huskily, moaning softly when Derek wrapped his tongue around her lobe and sucked hard.
“Sure,” he agreed, leaning back and setting her on feet. “Take off your skirt. I want to re-enact conception.”
Lydia smiled at him, though he could see that she was trying to suppress it. “Don't think you're forgiven for that. There will be repercussions.”
The sound of her zipper and his lowering in tandem was grating and he could see the shivers that slid across her skin as the sound carried.
“I look forward to it.”
_____
Review, please.