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This Girl Is Afraid of Elevators What She Did Next Will Astound You!>>Derek Hale

Title: This Girl Is Afraid of Elevators, What She Did Next Will Astound You! 

Paring: Derek Hale X Reader

Warnings: anxiety, fear of elevators, panic attacks, fluff, angst, humour. 

Spoilers: um I don't think so, but be caught up on Teen Wolf just to be sure (but remember I'm an Australian and I haven't seen the new-new Season 5 yet so don't write spoilers in the comments okay thanks)

Author's Note: Based on an elevator ride I had, except none of this happened, it was my own anxiety which caused this fic to come around and be written.

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It didn't matter that you were an adult. That you were a teacher. Could drink alcohol, could drive. It didn't matter that you were the girlfriend of Derek Hale, the well-known black sheep of Beacon Hills, and that if it came to it, he'd fight until the death for you. None of things mattered...when there were elevators involved. For as long as you could remember the sensation – a sort of jolt of your stomach falling to your knees when the metal cage dipped down, a nausea when it jerked upward – it had made you feel sick, especially when you were by yourself in the space. It didn't help that loads of movies had scenes where the elevators broke down, often leading to the two protagonists to make out until help came, or fall to their deaths.

But over time, a near-miss accident in the mall, a prank gone wrong ("Screw you, Jackson, and the horse you rode in on!") your fear was completely, and utterly rational. Apparently, in the USA alone, there were an average of twenty-six deaths per year on the account of elevators. There was a Facebook page community for people like you who hated metal death traps. But be it rational or not, you had to shake it off. Or stay another night at Derek's place.

For the last week, you'd stayed in his bed, wearing his clothes, eating his food. The pack thought it was gorgeous; almost drop-dead domestic that Derek would have you hang around and spread your scent everywhere. You had rolled your eyes, and gone and used your toothbrush (that had been hiding in a package under the sink), and prepared to shower. Not that you could really hear them; you had no special stuff, powers, or any of that jazz. You were just a human. If you could hear, you'd be surprised how much snooping was going on.

As soon as the door to the bathroom was closed behind you, Scott turned to Derek, and looked up at him. "It's been days, _________ hasn't left your place. Doesn't she have work?"

Derek shrugged, indifferent. "I guess. I don't know, she hasn't said anything."

"Dude," Stiles raised a single eyebrow, shaking his head slowly, "You need to ask her. For all we know, she's been kicked out, and mooching from you." He chuckled at that, but upon catching sight of Scott's small shake of the head, added quickly, "I mean, ah, it's the right thing to do."

From the corner, Isaac piped up. "She's been here almost six days, right?"

Scott nodded. "Yeah. Since Thursday." The Alpha confirmed, and narrowed his eyes at the scarf-loving blonde. "Why?"

The curly-haired werewolf got up from his seat on the couch, and his fingers to count his points on. "On Thursday, we had the attack on the apartment block, remember? The stairs got smashed up, and we're still waiting on the supplies and maintenance to come from Sacramento." He grimly reminded them. "Your fire escape is kind of out of order, Derek...since the Oni, I think. You need to work on that. Which leaves, the elevator."

Stiles frowned. "Yeah, what of it?"

Derek's eyes widened. "_________ hates elevators."

Scott swallowed. But instead of commenting on it, their werewolf-senses heard you turn the shower off, and before you'd even wrapped a towel around yourself to come out, they'd dispersed, and changed the subject to something less touchy, but dumbed down enough for any old idiot to get what they were playing at. But as you went upstairs and changed into clean clothes, you rolled your eyes, and made your way downstairs.