The Fact That Rudy And Drew Are Like Besties In Real Life Is So Funny

Imagine: Thomas Brodie-Sangster - Necklace

Word Count: 1215

Smut: Yes | No 

Requested: Yes | No

Inspired by the silver necklace that Thomas always wears.

“Tom?” You called. You listened for his response but it never came. He was mad. Beyond mad. You bit your lip, and wiped the tears from your cheeks, getting off the bed of your room, and walking over to the open balcony door.

There he was. Beautiful as ever, elbows resting on the railing, pants slung low on his hips, no shirt on. “Thomas, please listen to me.” You begged, more tears threatening to fall.  

He banged his hands against the rail. “What is there…” He whispered, trying to contain his anger. “To fucking listen to?!” And it all boiled over. “You cheated!" He yelled. “You were drunk! I was gone! And you cheated!”

That was it. The tears. More after more, after more. They didn’t stop. A choking sound escaped your mouth and your hand immediately covered it. “I’m so sorry,” You said, and then walked back into your room. 

Was this the seventh? Eighth? Maybe even the ninth? You didn’t know. And you didn’t care.  You just wanted to numb the emptiness. Make the hole in your heart full. 

You smiled as the shot of moonshine burned in your throat, you winced a little, and then smiled again, making your way to the dance floor. You wedged yourself in between numerous bodies, and then began to move just as they did. 

Most things were blurry. You could hear the music, but couldn’t really make out what it was. You could barely walk, your feet not really able to move your body the way they usually did. You could barely talk. Your vocal cords slurred the words that wanted so badly to be heard. Really heard. 

You just let it go though. You didn’t care that you couldn’t see, that you couldn’t understand. You didn’t care that your judgment was clouded, or that you could barely walk. You didn’t care that you could barley talk. You really didn’t care. 

Hands made their way around your waist, and although you shouldn’t have, you let them. You just wanted someone’s hands there again. Actually no, that was a lie, you wanted Thomas’ hands there again. But he wasn’t there. He was off somewhere, of course, you couldn’t quite remember where though. He’d be back soon, but you were lonely now, and you wanted him now. 

These hands though… They felt familiar. They felt like his… They felt like Thomas’. Maybe that’s why you welcomed them.

You turned in the mans arms. He was tall. Like Thomas. He was blonde. Like Thomas. He was skinny, but muscular, like Thomas. 

It couldn’t be him… Could it? Thomas was gone. This had to be someone else. But none the less, you kept dancing with him.

You stood on your tiptoes, and leaned in. Wanting to feel close to someone. And that was when you saw it. That silver chain, wrapped around his neck. 

Thomas. Thomas had that same silver chain. It was him. 

“Thomas!” You cried, flinging yourself on him. 

“What?” The guy mumbled back, but you barely heard him. 

“I missed you.” You said into his neck. You felt the coldness of the necklace on your lips, and you smiled. It was him. 

You leaned up to kiss him, and although he was surprised, he kissed you back. It was odd. It didn’t feel quite the same. But it was him. 

From there, you remember nothing. You just know, the pounding headache that woke you, woke you in someone else’s bed. You thought Thomas, but no, it wasn’t him. Defiantly not. 

You didn’t recognize the room you were in, nor the man you were in the bed with. You only remembered spending the night with Thomas, and although the guy you were with somewhat resembled him, it was not him. 

You gasped in horror, and shuffled out of the bed, taking the sheet with you to cover your naked body. 

The man in the bed stirred a little, but didn’t wake, and you took that time to find the dress you wore last night. You gathered the rest of your belongings, and rushed out the doors. 

After leaving the building, you didn’t recognize the area you were in, so you waited for a half hour for a cab to come and get you. 

You told the taxi driver your address, yours and Thomas’ address, and then sat the rest of the car ride with your head in your hands, and your eyes closed, trying to stop your pounding headache. 

How could you have done this? How could you have cheated on your boyfriend? Drunkenness was no excuse. You had so many alcoholic beverages that you couldn’t remember the events of last night. You just remember feeling lonely. But that was no excuse either. 

You should have just called Thomas or something. Anything to have changed your mind, or stopped you from doing this. But it was too late now. 

You got home, and stepped into the shower immediately after taking your grimy clothes off, and let the hot water pour over your skin. 

And you did it again. You didn’t know what to do anymore, so you went to your shower.  You felt weak as you turned on the tap, and rid yourself of your clothes. After your shorts, and your cardigan came off, you stepped in, not having the energy to take off your white tank top, or your under garments. 

You felt physically sick. The amount of guilt piling up in your chest was unbearable. So unbearable, you started to cry. You cried for the ten billionth time that week. 

As you applied the mascara to your eyelashes, you thought about the next few hours again. What would Thomas say or do when you told him what you did? How would he react? Would he leave you? The thought absolutely terrified you, but it wasn’t unrealistic.  

You had spent all day getting ready for Thomas’ arrival. You had showered earlier in the day, you curled your hair to perfection, did your makeup, and even picked out a nice outfit. 

As you looked yourself over in the mirror, you couldn’t help but frown a little. This might go to waste. You had applied a tan shadow to your eyes to make them look a little deeper, you spent hours curling your hair, you wore a tight, white, boat-neck crop top with high waisted shorts, and a navy cardigan over top, and also, your converse. Thomas loved these shoes on you. But… It might all go to waste. 

Thats when you had heard the door slam shut, and although you knew what was to happen in the future, you couldn’t stop the smile on your face when Thomas walked into your house. 

You nearly attacked him when he was near enough. You hugged him tight, and his hands snaked around your waist. “Tom, I need to tell you something,” You had whispered. 

“Y/N,” He moaned, breathing in your scent, “I missed you so much.”

You smiled and looked at him. “I missed you too,” 

Then, his lips were on yours. It all happened so fast, and it all felt so good. You were now laid on the bed, Thomas hovering over top of you, his shirt off his body. His hands roamed up your legs, and that was when you finally had the courage to stop him. 

“Tom, I need to tell you something.”

More choking sounds escaped your mouth as you tried to drown away all your sorrows. You just sat in the shower, body racking sobs etching through out the room. 

“Y/N.” 

You looked up at Thomas who was staring back at you, an unreadable look on his face. 

“I’m so, so sorry,” Was all you could say through the tears. 

Thomas sighed and surprisingly got into the shower with you, leaving his jeans on. He climbed in behind you, and took you undeservingly in his arms. Your sobs eased a bit at this, and you clutched onto his arms. 

You turned towards him, and rested your head in the crook of his neck. And then you really saw it. The necklace. You reached up to touch it with your finger, and Thomas flinched. 

“I’m still mad at you,” He said stubbornly.

“Rightfully so,” You replied. 

Silence overtook the room. All that was heard was the sound of the water hitting the floor. 

“I thought he was you,” You tell him honestly. “That doesn’t make it alright though. I know.” 

Silence. 

“I’m so sorry, Tom. I love you.” You said, squeezing his arm. 

Silence. 

“Please,” You begged. “Don’t leave me.”

This time there was no silence. 

“I could never.”

Imagine: Brett Talbot - That’s Embarrassing

Word Count: 537

Smut: Yes | No

Requested: Yes | No

Can you do an imagine where Mason keeps on flirting with Brett, but he cuts him off saying he’s in love with y/n and that they’ve been dating for a while now? Thanks 😁🙈 - Anon

Brett sat beside Mason on the bleachers, and over looked the sophomore gym class below him. The corners of his mouth lifted when he saw Y/N step onto the field. 

Coach Finnstock blew his whistle at the girl, and after chewing her out for being late, he shoved a soccer ball into her hands, pointing to the net at the end of the field. 

Brett was so busy admiring the way that his girlfriend looked in her gym clothes, that he didn’t even notice Mason talking. 

“Brett?” Mason’s hand gently landed on the older boys thigh, and although he felt a touch uncomfortable, he let it slide, hoping it was nothing but meaningless contact meant to get his attention. 

“Sorry, say that again?” 

“I was just talking about Sinema.” Mason repeated.

Brett smiled a bit, eyes still on Y/N. “Oh, yeah. Sinema is cool.”

“My thoughts exactly.” Mason grinned, his attention solely on Brett. 

When Brett finally glanced at Mason, he concluded that maybe the earlier meaningless contact wasn’t so meaningless... Mason was dropping hints left right and center. The way he was sitting- feet pointed towards Brett, and shoulders perpendicular with the field- was his tell. He was totally into the conversation... Brett however, not so much.

“I saw you there a couple nights ago.” Mason added. 

“Did you?” Brett laughed. “I go there a lot with-” Brett was about to casually add in the fact that he had a girlfriend, but Mason was too fast. 

“You looked great.”

Brett laughed uncomfortably, “Thanks.” 

Brett wasn’t one to get flustered easily. He’d always been good with the ladies, and men. And he was never one to be tied down. At least until Y/N... 

She changed him completely. He found himself getting less sleep at night because she was occupying his thoughts. His smile would get brighter when she was around. She made him a better version of himself. 

When girls and boys would flirt with Brett, he’d flirt back, but now, seeing as he was in a relationship, he felt guilty even talking to Mason. He scratched the back of his neck, then rubbed his clammy hands on his uniform pants. 

Mason laughed a little, noticing the boys nervousness, and taking it in the wrong context. He rested his hand on top of Brett’s and watched as his eyes widened. 

“I mean it, Brett.” Mason moved a little closer. “I think you’re so hot.”

“My girlfriend does too.” Brett blurted out, moving a good five feet away from Mason. “Like, my girlfriend thinks I’m hot too, because I have a girlfriend.” 

Mason just sat there, looking a little shocked. 

“Yeah. A girlfriend.” Brett continued. “She’s really nice, her names Y/N. I love her.”

The two sat awkwardly for a moment, Mason taking in what he just heard, and Brett feeling slightly bad for the way the news came out. 

“Sorry, Mason.” Brett said, scratching his head, and getting up. 

Mason watched as Brett left the stands, once he was out of ear shot, hopefully even wolf ear shot, he muttered to himself, “That was embarrassing.” 

@ Jeff Davis

next time you add a bad guy to the show make sure he isn’t cody fucking christian pls & thank you cast some ugly ass bitch that will be easy to hate. sincerely, a frustrated, confused and horny fandom

Chicago Franchise Episodes Timeline

The complete guide to watch every Chicago episode in the correct order

As a lot of people are getting interested with the franchise but don’t know where to start with so many crossovers between the four shows, I made a list to help watch them in the proper, « in-universe » order. I also wanted to go back and binge-watch from the beginning without getting confused with the timeline.

A spreadsheet version is also available for easy read! It always contains the latest updates (as this post here is uh… high maintenance), and more information like cameos and dates. Feel free to leave comments or contribute!

As you will notice, I’m in the process of reordering all episodes to match « in-universe » dates instead of air dates. About half of the list below still follows air dates. The episode number will be blue if I personally verified it follows in-universe order. In the meantime, I suggest you use the spreadsheet and follow the in-universe order established by the community.

Anyway, enjoy! Contact me if anything’s incorrect! :)

FAQs 🌵 Where to Watch

2012-2013 : Fire S01

001. Chicago Fire - S01E01 - Pilot 002. Chicago Fire - S01E02 - Mon Amour 003. Chicago Fire - S01E03 - Professional Courtesy 004. Chicago Fire - S01E04 - One Minute 005. Chicago Fire - S01E05 - Hanging On 006. Chicago Fire - S01E06 - Rear View Mirror 007. Chicago Fire - S01E07 - Two Families 008. Chicago Fire - S01E08 - Leaving the Station 009. Chicago Fire - S01E09 - It Ain’t Easy 010. Chicago Fire - S01E10 - Merry Christmas, Etc. 011. Chicago Fire - S01E11 - God Has Spoken 012. Chicago Fire - S01E12 - Under the Knife 013. Chicago Fire - S01E13 - Warm and Dead 014. Chicago Fire - S01E14 - A Little Taste 015. Chicago Fire - S01E15 - Nazdarovya! 016. Chicago Fire - S01E16 - Viral 017. Chicago Fire - S01E17 - Better to Lie 018. Chicago Fire - S01E18 - Fireworks 019. Chicago Fire - S01E19 - A Coffin That Small 020. Chicago Fire - S01E20 - Ambition 021. Chicago Fire - S01E21 - Retaliation Hit 022. Chicago Fire - S01E22 - Leaders Lead 023. Chicago Fire - S01E23 - Let Her Go (PD backdoor pilot) 024. Chicago Fire - S01E24 - A Hell of a Ride

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Imagine: Brett Talbot - Chaos

Word Count: 781

Smut: Yes | No

Requested: Yes | No

Brett x reader imagine - reader have dissociative identity disorder and no one knows about this, then she changes in bad side of her personality and chaos ensures. Rest is up for you, thx 💗

Disclaimer: This is a disorder that I have no clue about, I’ve never had any sort of experience with it. I got what little knowledge I have of it from google, so if you find any of this offensive, please tell me, and I will try my best to fix it. 

When your eyes fluttered open, you had no clue where you were, it was dark, and the ground was ruff underneath you. You sat up, and looked around. All you could see were trees, and bush. 

You had done it again. It had done it again. 

“Hello?” You called out. You had no clue how you got here, you just knew that you were alone, and you were terrified. You pushed yourself off the ground with all the strength you had, and you got to your feet. 

More light came to sight as you took steps further towards what looked like it could be the line of the forest, and as your steps progressed, you found out you were right. 

You stepped out onto the road, and immediately recognized your surroundings. You were near Brett’s house. 

“Oh no,” You spoke to yourself, tears filling your eyes. “Please, oh my god, please tell I didn’t hurt him.” 

You looked down at your clothing, not in the slightest surprised when you found it to be tatterted, and dirty. “Please, don’t let me have hurt him.” You begged to yourself again.

You knew you were underestimating Brett, but you also knew how you could get when, she, stepped in. You were hoping Brett would never have to find out about this, but as you stepped into the line of sight of his house, you knew he would have to. 

There was dirt spattered across his driveway, his mother’s flower pots were broken, his car windshield was smashed, and there were dents in his garage door. 

You closed your eyes, hoping that when you opened them, this would all be gone, and you’d find yourself in bed, and this all would have been a bad dream, but you knew better than that. This was real. And you did this. She did.

You got to his door, and you knocked carefully, afraid to break anything else. Tears poured down your cheeks, and Brett opened the door, looking you up and down. 

“Brett,” You barely whispered. 

He stared at you questioningly, “You here to go completely crazy again? Break somemore shit?” 

The heavy tears, became thicker, if that was even possible. “Brett, that wasn’t me, you have to believe me.” 

“What the hell are you talking about?” 

“It was her, not me.” You told him. You knew you sounded crazy, but this is what you had to do. Crazy was the truth. And he needed to know the truth. 

“Who is ‘she’?” He asked, his face softening a bit, after witnessing all your tears.  

“There’s something wrong with me, Brett.” You told him, breaking down. You couldn’t hold back the sobs that choked out of your throat anymore. 

He door opened wider, and Brett took your arm, guiding you into his trashed home. He sat you down on his out of place coach and you looked around through cloudy eyes. 

“Brett, did I hurt you?” You asked him, terrified of the answer. 

“A couple bruises. They healed though. Nothing I can’t handle.”

You furiously cried once again, and you hugged your boyfriends waist. He flinched a little, but eventually wrapped his arms around your shoulders. 

“I’m so sorry.” You cried. “I did all this, but it wasn’t me. It was the other person, inside of me.” You told him. 

Then another voice stepped in. “Dissociative identity disorder.” It was Stiles. He stepped into the room, Scott and Liam behind him. 

There was a large bruise on Stiles’ cheek, and you looked at him with apologetic eyes. Knowing that you were the reason for that bruise. He just nodded at you and stepped forward a bit more. You guessed that you gave Liam and Scott a few hits as well, but theirs must have healed by now. 

“You were different the moment you stepped in the house.” Scott stepped in. 

“It wasn’t me.” You told them again, “There’s someone else inside of me.”

“We know, baby.” Brett spoke. “And we’re going to get you help, okay? You’re going to be alright.” He kissed your forehead, and you leaned into his touch. 

“Do you still love me?” You asked him. You were sure of his answer though. Who could love you? How could he love you when when you had this crazy other side of yourself?

“Yes.” You were interrupted, and shocked by his answer. 

“You do?” 

“Of course, Y/N. I could never stop loving you.” Brett soothed. “We’re going to get this under control, okay? And you’re going to be fine.” 

Theo: *Sends Donovan after Stiles.*

Me: It's okay. He probably has a reason. He's a good guy.

Theo: *Sells out Scott, Kira, Stiles & Lydia to doctors.*

Me: It's okay. He probably has a reason.

Theo: *Burns my house down.*

Me: It's okay.

Imagine: Theo Raeken- Sick Of Loving You

Word Count: 1708

Smut: Yes | No

Requested: Yes | No

Hi Boo! Uh I was wondering, (only if you do it) if you could do an either Theo Raeken or Brett Talbot smut. I'd prefer Theo but whatever you wanna do. And like hes being dominant in the bedroom, kinda like 50 shades (i know, desperate but oh well) And if you don't do smut, can you write like, a one where we get into a huge fight and we kinda like "break-up" and he does all kinds of shiz do get me back. Thanks so much, and i love your blog - thewildwilkinso

Livid. That was the only word to describe how you felt as you walked through the door to your apartment.  You entered to see Theo sprawled out on the couch, wearing just a pair of sweatpants, and a snap back. 

Normally, you'd be happy to see this, but seeing as you got two and a half hours of sleep last night because of this asshole, you weren't. Today, you had a really big job interview, and you were counting getting the gig, but after Theo didn't come home last night, you were unable to sleep because you were so worried about him. 

At around 3 o'clock in the morning you decided to text Scott, thinking thats who he was with, but when Scott replied right away, saying that he hadn't seen Theo the whole night, you just got angry. 

 Because of your lack of sleep, you woke up an hour after you were supposed to get up, and had only fifteen minutes to get ready before you had to leave the house, and to make matters worse, Theo still wasn’t home. 

You checked your phone, and at 3:26, a couple minutes after you’d finally convinced yourself Theo was fine, and fallen asleep,  Theo had texted you saying that he was crashing at a friends house. 

It was safe to say you weren’t exactly happy with him at the moment. 

You took off your heels as Theo rose from the couch, walking over to come and greet you. 

“Hey baby,” He grinned, grabbing your hips.

You rolled your eyes, and scoffed, pushing his hands off your hips. You walked towards your bedroom, and opened your closet door, pulling out a pair of leggings, and a white T-Shirt. You threw them on the bed, and pulled at the zipper on the back of your pencil skirt. 

Theo strode into the room, eyebrows furrowed. “Y/N?” He questioned. “You okay?” 

You succeeded in unzipping your skirt, and you let it fall to the floor. “Oh yeah! I’m great.” You said sarcastically. 

Theo laughed a little, and leaned against the dresser, watching you undress.

You unbuttoned your blue blouse, and threw it to the ground as well, leaving you in your thong and bra. 

“Mind telling me what’s wrong?” He pushed himself off the dresser, and took a couple steps towards you. 

You grabbed the leggings off your bed, and tugged them up your legs. Putting your shirt on shortly after, thinking of multiple witty responses to Theo’s oblivious question. 

“I don’t know, Theo.” You started. “Maybe it’s the fact that I look like shit because I had to get ready in fifteen minutes this morning. Or maybe it’s that my interview went horribly because I was so angry that I couldn’t think about anything else. Or it could be that I’m tired as hell because I only got two and a half hours of sleep last night, because I was waiting for you!”

He looked stunned. He stuttered for a minute before swearing under his breath. “Shit, baby, I completely forgot that you had that interview today.”

You laughed to yourself, and looked down at the floor. “Well, I may as well do that too, because they sure as hell aren’t giving me the job.” 

“I’m so sorry,” He apologized, his voice barely even audible.

You laughed again, and looked up. “You see, that apology just might have worked if this was the first time it happened. But it’s not. There’s been multiple times, where I’ve stayed up until unearthly hours of the night worrying about you, and wondering why you’re not home, or if you’re alright, or even alive, but then I’ll get a text or some bullshit message from you saying your just over at a friends house.”

“Y/N-” He started, but you cut him off.

“No, don’t Theo.” You said, holding up a hand. “I’m sick of it. I’m sick of staying home, and cleaning up after you, I’m sick of your stupid partying all the time, and your god damn commitment issues. I’m sick of worrying about you all the time.” Tears were starting to form in your eyes now, and you had no clue what you were saying, you just knew that you were angry. You were so angry at the gorgeous, confused boy standing in front of you. 

“Theo, I’m just sick of loving you.” You said, a couple of the tears falling.

Once again, he was stunned. “You don’t mean that.” He choked.

You nodded, and squeezed your eyes shut, refusing to look at him. 

“No,” He said, a little louder. “You don’t mean that.”

“I do,” You replied. You wiped your eyes, and headed for your closet once again.

You just wanted out, out of the relationship, and out of your house. So you pulled out a suitcase, and that’s when Theo started to panic.

“Shit, Y/N, no.” He rambled.

You grabbed a couple shirts, and blouses from the hangers, and threw them on the bed, folding them and placing them in the suit case.

“Y/N, listen to me, okay? This isn’t going to happen again, I promise.” 

You ignored him, and added more stuff to the suitcase. 

“Baby, please. I’ll never do it again.”

He was getting more and more anxious, and your suitcase was getting fuller and fuller. 

“Fucking hell, Y/N! Listen to me!” Theo yelled, getting in between you and the suitcase. 

He was angry now. You could see it on his face. His eyes were no longer pleading, they were infuriated. Just as yours were when you walked in the door. 

“You actually are just going to pick up and leave after one fight?” He questioned. “You think that you can just walk out the door when you get angry?” 

You attempted to add a pair of shorts to your growing case, but you were abruptly stopped by Theo’s hand clamping down on your wrist. 

“No.” He said, grabbing the shorts and flinging them somewhere in the room. “You’re not leaving.”

He started to pull things out of your bag, placing them on the dresser, in the drawers, anywhere but something you could leave with. 

“You’re going to stop me?” You challenged. 

Once he had finished emptying the suitcase, he took it off the bed as well, throwing it into the closet. 

“Hell yeah I am.” 

You rolled your eyes at him, folded your arms over you chest. “Grow up, Theo.”

He stalked closer to you, and you scowled at him. He startled you by yanking your hips towards him. 

He stared at you for a second, and you looked back at him, eyebrows furrowed.

He let out a small laugh, and took both you wrists, placing them on his shoulders, before sliding his hands back down to your waist. 

He licked his lips ever so slightly, and leaned in a bit more. You had to try so hard not to physically and emotionally melt at the sight of this. 

“Can I kiss you?” He asked lips millimeters away from yours. 

Your whole entirety was screaming yes, because as much as you wanted to be angry at him, you couldn’t. This little facade he had going on, diminished your hate as fast as a fat kid eats ice cream. You weren’t mad at him anymore, and you didn’t want to leave anymore, but you couldn’t give in to him that easy... He needed to work a little to make you stay.

You leaned in a tiny bit more, so your noses and chins were just slightly touching. “No.” You whispered, pulling back completely. 

Theo laughed again. “Well, if I can’t kiss that pretty mouth of yours, then I guess I’m going to have to take alternative measures.”

He smirked, and ducked his head into the crook of your neck, placing light pecks all over the skin. 

You bit your lip, and closed your eyes, trying your best to not give into him. 

He moved down, getting to your chest, before he pulled away, grabbing the hem of your shirt and lifting it over your head. 

He took a minute to look you up and down before he shoved you onto the bed. 

You were gone now, there was no denying it. 

He got on top of you and reattached his lips to were he had left. 

You clutched the sheets as he got further and further down your body. When he reached the line of your leggings, you were almost squirming for him. 

He began to pull them down your legs, chuckling to himself. “I don’t even know why you put them on.” He remarked. 

He traced the line hem of your thong, and that’s when you actually started to squirm. 

“Can I?” He asked.

“Fuck, I hate you.” You responded.

He smirked, and pulled your thong off. “That wasn’t a no.”

He attached his mouth to your clit right away and you let out a loud moan. “Shit, Theo.”

He kept on sucking and you shook at the pleasure erupting in you. Your breathing was heavy, and you were getting clammy. “Theo, please,” You whined.

He sucked even harder, and you banged your fists on the bed, screaming with euphoria. 

As he continued, you got closer, and closer to your high. And right before you were at your weakest he did his best work. 

“Theo!” You screamed as you came. 

He pulled away from you, and you sat up on your elbows on the bed. 

Theo rested his elbows on either side of your stomach before leaning down and kissing your navel. “You’re not going to leave?”

You laughed to yourself, still a bit out of breath, but then you shook your head. “No.”

His mouth pulled up, in a half smile, and he reached for his snapback, pulling it off his head, and placing it on yours. “Am I forgiven?” 

“After you put away all those god damn clothes you scattered everywhere. I am not cleaning up after you.” 

Mason: *is the beast*

Me: *rewinds* *pretends I didn't see the last minute of the episode*

Me: I wonder who the beast is. (✿◠‿◠)

Imagine: Liam Dunbar - Wait It Out

Word Count: 2101

Smut: Yes | No

Requested: Yes | No

Can you do an imagine where the pack all gets sick, like slowly then all at once not knowing what to do because they haven’t been sick in a while so they all meet at Derek’s loft to see what's going on, but its nothing fatal so they wait it out and then Liam and the reader get all cute and stuff? 

“And I had no clue what to do, so I just guessed, so I’m sure I-” You stopped and looked at Liam, who clearly wasn’t listening. He was staring at the ground, a nauseous look on his face. His usual clear complexion looking paler than usual, and slightly green. “Liam are you okay?” You asked him.

“Hm?” He stuttered, looking up. 

“I asked if you were okay…” You repeated. “You look kinda sick.”

“Na, I’m okay.” He tried to smile. 

“Maybe you should go home…” You told him. “You really don’t look good.”

“I’m fine, Y/N.” He insisted. 

You studied him once more, then decided not to argue with him. “Okay. Let’s go to English then.”

“Alright.” He agreed, grabbing his books and following you down the hall. 

As you sat in your desk while the teacher talked, you couldn’t bring yourself to listen, your focus was more trained on Liam. 

Every once and while you would glance at him. He seemed to be looking worse every minute. He rubbed at his neck while coughing, and you felt genuinely worried for him. And then half way through the class, he was asleep, head rested on his desk. And that’s the way he stayed. 

When the bell rung, signalling the end of your third class, you watched as the rest of the class got up, and filed out of the classroom, while Liam stayed, sleeping soundly on his desk. 

You walked over to your best friend, and sighed, a small smile growing on your face. He looked adorable. You couldn’t help but think how nice it would be to wake up next to that in the morning. There was no denying the massive crush you had on Liam. 

You reached out and rested your had on his forehead, feeling the burning surface. Seconds later, he was awake, and taking hold of your hand. He grabbed your small wrist in his large hand, and you felt tingles fill the contacted skin. You nearly gasped, but you stopped yourself. 

“You’re burning up, Liam.” You told him. “Go home, get some rest.” 

“Maybe I will…” He finally gave in. 

“Good choice. I’ll walk you to the nurses office.” You offered. 

“No, go to class. I’ll be okay. I’ll call my mom.” He tried to smile once again, and your heart ached for the sick boy. 

“Okay,” You nodded. “Feel better, Li.” You smiled, walking out of the classroom. 

As the rest of the day passed on, you found yourself wanting to text Liam, just to make sure he got home okay, but you stopped yourself, knowing that he most likely did, and was probably sleeping now. When the bell finally rang, you nearly jumped out of your seat, excited to get home yourself. 

When you got to your locker, the first thing you heard was a chorus of coughs coming from a couple lockers down, you looked innocently, noticing the culprit was Scott…

“Scott you okay?” You asked.

“Yeah I’m good,” He tried to push a grin the same way Liam did, but failed. 

“Are you sure? You don’t seem alright. Liam went home earlier today because he wasn’t feeling good as well.” You explained.

“Really?” Scott asked. “That’s strange. We don’t usually get sick… I don’t know what’s happening.”

“You think this could be something supernatural?” You asked.

“Yeah, this has never happened.” He replied. “I’m gonna call Deaton.”

You nodded. “Good idea.” You watched as he held the phone to his ear, mumbling a series of words that you couldn’t exactly make out. 

He hung up and you raised your eyebrows at him, “He doesn’t know what it is, but Derek’s got it too. He was there a half hour ago.”

“Oh man,” You furrowed your eyebrows. “Should I go and tell Liam?” 

“Can you call him? Derek wants to meet at his loft in a couple minutes, I’ll drive you over. I’m gonna call Stiles and tell him to bring Malia too.” 

You pulled your phone from your pocket and dialled Liam’s number. His groggy voice answered the other end of the line, and you smiled. “Hey Liam, can you meet the pack at Derek’s in a couple minutes? It’s important. Everyone is sick.” 

“Yeah,” He replied. “I’ll be there soon.”

You nodded and hung up the phone, Scott flicked his head towards the door, and you followed him over to Stiles’ Jeep where they were waiting for you, a pale Malia in the passenger seat, and a worried Stiles beside her. The two of you hopped in, and Stiles wasted no time in speeding towards Derek’s. 

You patiently looked out the window. There was a large pit of worry in your stomach. What if this was something bad? What if it was fatal? What if Liam was dying? 

You looked at Scott, his head was rested on the window, eyes closed, his breathing even. The same for Malia. Light snores escaped her open mouth. 

“You’re thinking it too, aren’t you?” Stiles’ voice startled you. 

You knew what he meant. “Yeah. Of course I am.” 

“It’s hard not to.” He commented. “What if they die?

“I know. They’ve gone up against the enemy so many times, and faced death so many times, It’s never even crossed my mind that they could go to something as stupid as a sickness. I always thought that if one of them did die, they would go fighting, knowing they’re life was at stake, ya know?” 

“Like Allison?” Stiles’ whispered. 

“Yeah,” You answered. “Like Allison.” 

There was a few more moments of silence before Stiles’ spoke again. “Liam.” He stated. “Do you love him?”

Your eyes widened, and you nearly choked. No.Was the first thing that came to your mind. But it was no use lying to Stiles. This was a question he already knew the answer to. 

“Yes.” You replied. 

Stiles did nothing but smile, and for a moment you did too. 

The Jeep pulled up in front of the big building, and you gently tapped Scott’s shoulder. He woke with a start, and then a cough, and muttered a thanks, before getting out of the Jeep. 

You followed the three up to Derek’s loft to meet with him and Deaton, they were already waiting, standing against a table when you walked in the door. 

Derek might have looked the worst out of all, his skin was sickly pale. He looked weak, as if he were barely living. 

Stiles smiled at this, “Hey Derek,” He chirped, “Wanna arm wrestle? I bet I’ll beat ya now.” 

There was no reaction, Stiles just spent a minute laughing at his own joke, and Derek glared at him. 

You heard the door open behind you, and you immediately turned around, knowing who it was. 

Liam shuffled in, grey and tired as ever, and your heart ached for him. 

He stood on the other end of the line beside Scott, and you stomach sunk a tiny bit, as little of a deal as this was, you kind of wanted him to stand beside you. 

“As you all know, sickness is not a common encounter for wolves. Most wolves go their whole lives without experiencing it, but no, it’s not impossible. What you all have is a virus called the ‘rapaces flu’, its a flu not known among men, only among the supernatural. As all of you are wondering, it is not fatal.”

You let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding, and looked at Liam, he was already looking at you, but when you met eyes, he looked away.

“It is highly contagious though, so to prevent the spread to other wolves, like Brett, or Satomi’s pack, I recommend you all stay here, and wait it out. It will be gone in 8-10 hours.” Deaton nodded, and headed for the door. 

A few exchanges were made, but mostly everyone went straight for a couch. Derek was in his bed, Malia sprawled out on the recliner, and Liam was laying on the couch. Scott made a bee line for the love seat beside the door. 

You smiled a little, and lifted yourself onto the table, and rested your back against the wall. Stiles came and sat beside you, and for two hours, while everyone slept, you and him exchanged pointless conversations, played countless games of x’s and o’s, and threw things at Scott while he slept. 

“I’m kinda tired too,” Stiles yawned. 

You smiled at him, and nodded your head towards Malia. He grinned and made his way over there, laying down on the recliner with her. 

You decided to move too. You walked over to the couch, and looked at Liam, he was sleeping soundly. You sat down on the edge, and felt his forehead. Ice cold. You winced and felt grabbed his hand, ice cold. 

This awoke, him and he moaned a little, making you almost lose your mind. 

“You’re warm,” He said groggily. He caught your hand and held it for a moment, before running his own up your arm and to your neck. “It’s freezing in here.” He said. 

“No, you’re just sick.” You giggled. 

“Lay down,” 

Your eyes widened. What did he just say? What did he just tell you to do?

“Huh?” Was all you were able to get out. 

He laughed a little, his hand sliding down to your waist, pulling slightly. “I said lie down, you’re so warm.”

“O-okay.” You mumbled, laying down. Your back was to his chest now, and he immediately wrapped his arm around you, wasting no time in getting close. 

He nestled his head into the crook of your neck, and stayed there for a couple seconds. “You smell good,” He mumbled.

Shit. You thought. He was just stringing you in deeper. You’re already in love with him, and here he goes, saying all this stuff and making you think that maybe, just maybe, he likes you too, but he doesn’t. And you know that. Because it’s Liam. 

“I’m gonna go,” You say, getting up, tears filling your eyes. You didn’t need to lay here and be led on. It would hurt too much when he went back to flirting shamelessly with other girls tomorrow.  

Liam furrows his eyebrows and pulls you back down effortlessly. “Don’t leave,” He begs. 

You huff and wipe your tears quickly, hoping he wouldn’t notice. But of course he did.

“Y/N,” He said, “Look at me,”

“Huh?” You said again. Famous last words. 

“Face me, now.” He demanded, not sounding sick anymore. 

You groaned in annoyance, not wanting to let him see you cry, but you turned your laying body to face him any way. 

He looked at you, eyes filled with concern. “Why are you crying?”

You didn’t say anything. You just avoided eye contact with him. 

“Y/N,” He said again. “Tell me,”

You just shook your head. “No.”

He didn’t respond to this. He surprisingly reached up, and wiped the tears from your face. Then even more surprisingly, he kissed your cheek softly. 

You shook your head again, “Don’t,” You said, pushing him away softly. 

He furrowed his eyebrows. “What are you-”

You cut him off. “Don’t do that. Don’t act like you like me. Because you don’t. Don’t pretend like I’m your girlfriend, because I’m not, and it’s just going to hurt me in the end, so don’t do it.” You say, tears falling from your eyes. 

Liam was appalled. He just stared at you for a couple seconds. 

“I’m gonna go,” You said, again, but, again, Liam pulled you down. His time differently. 

He yanked so hard that you fell on to him, connecting your lips. Your kisses you long, and passionate, and when you pull away, the wind is knocked out of you. 

“What if I do like you though?” He said, out of breath, “And what if I want you to be my girlfriend?” 

You just stare at him for a second. “Then I guess you can do that,” 

This time, it’s softer, his arms wrap around you, and his lips attach themselves to yours softly. “I’ve loved you for so long,” 

“Me too, Li.” You smile at him. 

Imagine: Liam Dunbar - Hunter

Word Count: 975

Smut: Yes | No 

Requested: Yes | No

Can you do an imagine we're your a hunter and you fall for liam, but you can't be together bc hunters can't date werewolves and liam ask scott for advice but he tells him about Allison - Anon

“We can’t do this,” She spoke, her frail arms wrapping tighter around me. 

I rubbed her back and she sighed into my neck. “I know.” I replied. 

I pulled away from her,and she put her head down right away. I sensed the nerves from her as soon as my arms no longer encircled her. I placed my fingers under her chin and gently lifted up. Her face was soaked with tears. 

She immediately pushed my hand away and turned around, walking further from me. “Y/N,” I sighed. 

“You don’t need to see me cry.” She sniffed. “Please just go.” 

I walked over to her, and looked at the side of her face. My sight was limited and I could only see the glassy texture of one tear rolling down her cheek. 

I put my hands on her hips, and kissed her left shoulder. “Look at me.” 

She tried to shake her head, but I demanded again. “Look at me.” 

She turned ever so slightly, so I took it upon myself, controlling her movements and forcing her body to the side. 

Once again and pulled her chin up, and this time she didn’t push me away. She just stared up at me with wide, watery blue eyes. “You should go,” She repeated. 

I just nodded to her, because I knew that I needed to go. Her father might catch us any moment. 

I replaced my hand so they were resting gently on the sides of her face, holding her jaw. “I love you.”  I told her. 

I couldn’t be more honest about my feelings for her. I loved her. With every ounce of my being, I was in love with her. I didn’t care if I was only sixteen, I knew what we had, and what I felt was real. I couldn’t control how my pulse would race when I’d see her, or how my hands would suddenly start shaking. 

Her pulse raised when I said the words, as did the corners of her mouth, the tears that soaked her face seemed millions of miles away when she smiled like that. When she said it back to me, her pulse stayed steady. “I love you too,”

That was all I need to hear, I leaned in and pressed my lips to hers. Her hands went straight into my hair, and I lowered mine to her hips, pulling her as close as I could. 

Every emotion that the two of us were feeling was poured into one touch of the lips. Overbearing sense of love, with a small amount of anger, and it made for the perfect last kiss. 

She pulled away and distanced herself from me, looking down as the words fell from her swollen lips. “Bye, Liam.”

I didn’t respond, instead I took one last look at her, before I hopped out the window. 

I don’t know how long I walked for, but it had to be at least an hour. The sky was dark, and my phone kept on vibrating, but I ignored it. The more I walked, the angrier I got. 

Soon, a blue jeep pulled up beside me, and Stiles spoke quickly. “Get in Liam.” 

I got in the car, slamming the door as hard as I could before running my hands frustratingly through my hair. 

“We’ve called you like eight times.” Scott told me.

“I know.” I responded, keeping my head down.

“What’s going on?” Scott asked. “Why are you so angry?” 

I didn’t answer, I just tried to keep the rage from boiling over. I rocked back and forth, and grabbed harder onto the seats.

“Liam.” Scott repeated, “What happened?”

He waited for a few moments, and then Stiles spoke. “Is he gonna have an I.E.D meltdown in my jeep? Scott if he starts wrecking anything you’re paying for it, because you’re the one who gave little angry beta Liam wolf powers.” 

Stiles’ comment only made me more pissed off, and I could start to feel my claws coming through. 

“Stiles shut up,” Scott groaned, before turning back to me. “Liam, tell me what hap-”

This time I cut him off, my angry coming out in the form of my voice. “The hunters fucking happened, okay?” I didn’t usually swear, and I was a little surprised when Stiles didn’t make any remarks about me being too young to say that word. 

“Hunters?” Scott questioned.

I nodded and pulled my feet up onto the seat, resting my elbows on my knees, and putting my head in my hands. 

“Y/N.” I started. “Her family are werewolf hunters, and we can’t be together because of it.”

I was surprised when both of the boys started to laugh. I looked up at them, and they smiled at me. 

“Liam, being a hunter doesn’t mean shit.” Stiles laughed. 

“It does if it means her dad wants to turn me into a rug.” I replied.

“I had a girlfriend, her name was Allison.” Scott started.

I nodded, I remembered the pack talking about her at different times. 

“She was a hunter too. And we somehow managed to make it work. She decided that she didn’t want to be the same kind of hunter that her family was. She wanted to protect those who couldn’t protect themselves. That’s all Y/N needs to do Liam,” He told me, a small smile on his face.

I immediately pulled my phone out of my pocket, I clicked on Y/N and I’s conversation and typed in the words, “We can make this work.” Before sending it, and opening the door. 

“I’ve got to go.” I told Scott and Stiles, sprinting down the street.