Derek Hale imagines

23

You jumped when the security box for the loft started buzzing loudly, dropping your book in surprise. You got up and walked over to it, standing with your hand hovering over the button as you tried to decide what to do.

The large door slid open and there stood Derek, bloody and sweaty and exhausted, and you slammed your hand down on the button and sprinted over to him.

"Are you okay? What happened? Who did this?" You asked frantically, your hands fluttering uselessly in the air as you tried to figure out where to put them.

"I'm fine." Derek sighed, waving you away.

"You are not fine." You cried, grabbing his elbow, which seemed to be the only part of him that wasn't bruised or bloody. "Lay down and take your shirt off."

"What?" Derek frowned, giving you a confused look. You dragged him over to the edge of the bed.

"You heard me." You shoved his shoulders and he stumbled back, hitting the edge of the bed and falling backwards. "Take. It. Off."

He stared at you with wide eyes, his mouth hanging open, and you growled, grabbing the hem of his shirt and tearing it straight down the middle.

"Hey." He protested weakly. "I liked that shirt."

"I told you to take it off." You shrugged, eyes roaming over his chest. "It looks like everything's pretty much healed."

"Yeah, I could have told you that. You didn't need to rip my clothes off." Derek grumbled, staring at the destroyed shirt.

"Oh for gods sake." You rolled your eyes. "You are so stubborn sometimes Derek I can't even--"

He growled, jumping to his feet and crashing his lips against yours, cutting off your angry rant.

"What--?" You broke away, staring at him in surprise.

He shrugged. "I'm tired of you yelling at me." His lips met yours again.

You pushed him off, mouth open. "So you kissed me to shut me up?"

He rolled his eyes at you. "You liked it didn't you?"

Your mouth dropped open and you stared at him. "Are you serious? You think I'm just going to be--"

"Oh for the love of god!" This time he locked one of his hands behind your head when he kissed you roughly, effectively shutting you up again. His mouth moved against yours hungrily and you gripped his shoulders, melting into it. He was lucky the shirt was already gone or you would have ripped it off right then.