#scerek fic

[machtaholic]

FYI I WILL be posting ‘Tramp Stamp Fairy Wings’ sometime this weekend, so keep an eye out ;)

[stilesbansheequeen]

Can you rec me some really good TW fics to read please? I have no idea what to read! Like anything, sterek, sciles, stydia, dydia, scisaac, literally anything, please?

A lot of these are heavy angst or intense hurt/comfort, because that’s by far my favorite thing to read (although there’s a few very fluffy/funny ones in there, too), so be warned for that. Also, there are a lot of fantastic fics that always make it onto rec lists with like ten thousand kudos and that you’ve probably read most of, so I’m gonna skip those and go straight to some other absolutely phenomenal fics I’ve enjoyed.

I was originally going to do that thing where you star your favorites, but these are all so incredible that every single one would’ve had a star. Anything on this list will make your day. 

Sterek: 

Windows by dr_girlfriend

here comes trouble by grimm

Fire, Fury, and Flame by IAmAVeronica

A Place We Call Home by KouriArashi

(they say) this should feel something like fire by pr1nc3ssp34ch

Chase Away Every Monster by wangler

Wolves in the Timber by adeepeningdig

You’re Just An Empty Cage Boy (If You Kill The Bird) by cirquedusoleil 

Excess of Liberty by imthealphanow

Not As Described by Febricant

Down the Rabbit Hole by KuriKuri

Don’t Speak by fatale

Gunplay is Not Really Our Kink by theroguesgambit

Unchained by exclamation 

Defiance and Progress by rosepetals42

Mchaleinski:

You don’t have to love me by ANTchan

Bad Decisions | Good Intentions by werewolvesandarrows (nerdy_farm_girl) 

Scerek:

Grocery Tantrums by rileywrites

Sciles:

more power than anything waiting in the dark by wangler 

[reactingcaptain]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Teen Wolf (TV) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Derek Hale/Scott McCall Characters: Derek Hale, Scott McCall, Original Child Character(s) Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Werewolves Are Known, Actual Dad Derek Hale, Pre-Relationship, Charlie Hale is a matchmaker, Scott is a Good Friend, Alpha Scott, Beta Derek, Past Character Death, Canonical Character Death Series: Part 1 of La Loba's Daughter Summary:

Charlie Hale is the world's most adorable two year old. (Derek may be biased.) She does, however, have a tendency for grocery store tantrums and accidental shifts.

Enter Scott McCall, a gorgeous stranger who manages to talk Charlie down from her fit.

Both Hales may be a little in love.

[50-points-for-ravenclaw]

@dasbijou needed a pick-me-up and considering Lonnie was so kind to me this weekend when I had a pretty horrible day, it is only fair that I return the favor. I hope you like it. I tried to make it pretty fluffy but I also loved the prompt and figured it would be a great meet cute. HAPPY BIRTHDAY YOU PERFECT SWEET HUMAN BEING!!

I’m here for you and I hope things get better for you soon love <3

Based off of this prompt: You sit next to me everyday at lunch but you never say anything and I only tolerate it because you’re super hot AU

Derek likes his bench. It’s his bench. He’d claimed it three years ago when he started his residency at the hospital and has used it every day since to eat lunch. It’s secluded but not enough to cut him off from society completely and it also sits among the small garden out behind the hospital where they have the kids who are long term patients plant all different kinds of flowers in spring. It’s kind of his happy place.

But then he started coming out here. It’s been three weeks now to the day and Derek is fed up. The guy hasn’t said anything to him but his presence still annoys Derek to his wits end. He can’t even say what it is about the nurse that irks him. He doesn’t bother Derek in any way, only smiles his bright, friendly smile and sits at the other end of the bench to eat his sandwich while he gazes around the garden.

Sometimes his hair is flat as if he didn’t have time to style it before his shift (or maybe he pulled a double as people are wont to do here) but then sometimes…sometimes its coiffed in these soft waves that just brush the tan skin of his forehead. When it’s like this, the guy’s hair bounces as he moves as if he’s some sort of Disney prince. And every time he smiles at Derek, there’s this sort of sparkle in his eyes, which is absolutely ridiculous because that isn’t a thing that happens in real life so quit thinking about his eyes Derek and move already. You’ve been staring at him for too long.

Derek clears his throat awkwardly, finally unsticking his feet from the ground in order to amble over to the stone bench. The guy turns and gives him that smile and Derek immediately averts his gaze. As he’s settling into his spot, opening the container of leftover empanadas that he just reheated, he can see the guy shift in his peripheral.

“Are those my mom’s empanadas?”

Derek whips his head up with a frown, glancing over the guy’s face. He certainly has the same golden skin as Melissa, the same thick brown hair, the same big puppy dog eyes…oh crap.

“You’re Melissa’s son?” he chokes out. Now that he’s thinking about it, he vaguely remembers Melissa mentioning that her son was going to start working at the hospital a few weeks ago at one of their weekly dinners.

“Yeah!” the guy says. “You must be Derek. She talks about you all the time.”

“Oh,” Derek frowns.

“Yeah, man. I really appreciate you hanging out with her. I thought she might get a bit lonely when I left for college.”

“She’s nice,” Derek says, simply and the young man grins as if he couldn’t think of a higher compliment.

“Oh, I’m Scott by the way.”

Derek stares at the hand Scott holds out for a moment too long before he grabs it and shakes. He isn’t much for introductions or meeting new people in general. He’s comfortable with the friends he has. Making new ones has never been a priority for him.

“Do you come out here every day?” Scott asks, glancing around at their surroundings.

Derek shrugs, taking a bite of his food and trying his hardest to keep from making eye contact. What would Melissa think if she knew he’d been secretly pining after her son for weeks now without even having spoken to him yet?

“My mom and a few of the other nurses are the ones who started this. Back when I was a kid.”

Derek peers over at him, intrigued. Melissa had never told him that.

“I used to get under her feet every year but I liked playing with the other kids,” Scott continues with a laugh and a shrug. “I started helping when I got older. It’s nice. I can’t wait to do it again this year. It’s been years since I could.”

Derek feels his lips pulling into a smile despite himself.

“She said she got a replacement for me, though,” Scott adds with a knowing look and Derek ducks his head a bit, ears getting warm.

“The kids enjoy it,” he says.

“Yeah.”

When Derek looks up again, Scott’s expression has softened, eyes gazing at Derek with a fondness Derek thinks is a bit uncalled for considering they just met. That doesn’t stop the warm feeling in his chest from expanding out until he’s scooting toward the middle of the bench and holding out his lunch container.

“Melissa said they’re your favorite.”

Scott positively beams at him. He wastes no time stabbing a fork through one of the empanadas and stuffing it whole into his mouth. Derek shakes his head but can’t help but find it endearing.

“Here,” Scott mumbles around his mouthful as he holds his own lunch, some yellow rice based meal, out toward Derek who scoops some up and pops it in his mouth. “My mom made it and brought it to me today. She said she couldn’t watch me eat another PB&J.”

Scott’s chuckling as he says it but his cheeks turn rosy, though the color doesn’t pop much against his darker skin tone. Derek takes a moment to let his eyes wander over the expression before he turns back to his food.

“She always gives me lunch,” he says after a moment. “She probably misses feeding people.”

“Me and Stiles used to be such a handful. She’d always say she would be glad when we were off on our own and she could finally relax,” Scott says. “Guess we miss each other more than we thought.”

Derek doesn’t bother asking who Stiles is. He’s heard enough about the two best friends and their days of troublemaking from Melissa. Instead he nods in commiseration even though he never really got in trouble much as a kid, even when he was far less quiet and far more arrogant.

“How come you never said anything to me before?” Derek asks quietly after a moment’s pause. “When you started sitting out here.”

“How come you didn’t?” Scott returns. He grins triumphantly when Derek frowns. “You just always seemed so at peace. I didn’t want to bother you.”

Derek hums at that, stuffing another bite of rice in his mouth on top of his already half chewed empanada. So maybe he was bit of a hypocrite for thinking Scott was a messy eater.

“I’m glad you said something today,” he says finally, once he’s swallowed his mouthful.

Scott glances at him, a smile he seems unable to control stretching his lips until it’s full and bright. Like sunshine, Derek thinks.

“Me too.”

Scott bumps his shoulder against Derek’s, just enough for the heat of his skin to bleed through their clothes and touch Derek’s before he’s pulling away, snagging another empanada for himself.

Derek doesn’t bother to try and smother the still growing warmth in his chest. It would be impossible at this point. And he thinks that just maybe…Scott could be feeling something pretty similar, the same kind of affection. At least it’s nice to think he is.

(Spoiler: Scott definitely is.)

[stilesbansheequeen]

Scerek + 11 (I saw you in the Scerek tag, and ahhh, I loved your ficlet. Such a cute. <3)

aww, thank you!! <3

11. “Don’t you dare throw that snowba-, goddammit!” 

“Do you miss it?” Scott asks.

They’re standing in the front yard of the house Derek andLaura used to rent for the winter in upstate New York, enjoying the snow falling lightly around them.Well, Scott’s enjoying it, anyway, considering it’s such a sharp contrast toCalifornia. Derek might as well be a native New Yorker,with all his grumbling about the biting wind and the terrible drivingconditions.

He shrugs.

“Sometimes.”

Scott gets that, he supposes. The house must bring back awave of memories—Derek, stoic as he is, had had an undeniable sheen inhis eyes when Scott told him the owner was willing to rent it out over winterbreak. This is where Derek would’ve been right now, just hanging out with Laura, if not for everything back in Beacon Hills.

“Do you miss the snow?” Scott asks, hoping to lighten themood. He grabs Derek’s gloved hand and drags him farther into the yard, lovingthe feeling of making tracks in the perfectly smooth whiteness. “Because dude,this is even better than stepping on crunchy leaves.”

Derek huffs a laugh, and Scott can see his breath.

“It’s pretty up here,” he says. “Laura always loved itbecause it wasn’t like the city. The snow by our apartment—everywhere,really—turned black in a day or two, and you had to shovel it, anyway. Up here,as long as there’s a path for the mailman, we could have the whole yard toourselves. It was nice.”

“It is nice.”

Derek smiles, squeezing Scott’s hand a little tighter.

After a few moments Scott stoops down, picking up a handfulof snow and letting it filter through his fingers.

“You guys ever have snowball fights?”

“More like wars,” Derek says, the hint of a smile on his face. “Laura had a competitivestreak a mile wide.”

“Were you any good?” Scott asks, slipping his hand out ofDerek’s and trudging a few steps backwards.

“Scott,” Derek warns, even as Scott leans down to scoop upmore snow. “Scott, this is a new jacket.”

Scott grins, backing up even farther, and patting the snowinto a lopsided ball.

“Scott!” Derek insists, voice rising in pitch in the wayonly that of someone who knows they’re about to be hit with a snowballdoes. “Oh my God, Scott. Don’t youdare throw that snowba- Goddammit!”

Scott laughs as the snow splatters against Derek’s chest.

“I’ll take that as a No,Scott, I wasn’t any good,” he teases.

“Oh, you’re so in for it,” Derek says, eyes glinting blue.

He takes off running, hardly slowing as he grabs upsome snow from the ground and chases down Scott, who’s already halfway across theyard. As it turns out, Derek ispretty good, because the snowball nails Scott right in the back of the head froma good thirty feet away, and the snow falls down the back of his jacket, too,making him shudder.

And, from there, it does indeed become an all-out war.

They chase each other around for at least an hour, Scottinsisting that Derek must somehow be cheating when he gets him every singletime, and Derek laughing, looking more carefree than Scott’s seen him in ages,insisting that there are no rules when it comes to snowball fights.

Eventually, Derek gives up on the snowballs and goes in forthe kill—that is, he tackles Scott to the ground, where they grin at each otherlike idiots, Derek on top and Scott underneath him, both rosy-cheeked andbreathing hard.

Scott notices how beautiful Derek looks with itty bittysnowflakes caught in his eyelashes, and can’t help but kiss him.

The ground is freezing, but all either of them feel iswarmth.

[stilesbansheequeen]

SCEREK AND 22

22. “I’ve seen the way you look at me when you think I don’t notice.”

Derek Hale [7:16 PM]

Can I come over? Ineed to talk to you.

 Scott McCall [7:18 PM]

Is it important? Like obviously u can come either way, but I’m so not in the mood to deal with roguepixies or something rn

 Derek’s fingers hover over the keyboard uncertainly for amoment.

 It is important,to him at least, but he doesn’t want to get Scott all worried before he evengets there.

 Derek Hale [7:19 PM]

No pixies. Promise.

 Scott McCall [7:19PM]

Lol cool, cmon over ;)

 “So what’s up?” Scott asks, settling down on his bed.

 Derek feels he should sit down too, but he’s full of toomuch nervous energy to sit still, and instead leans heavily against the doorframe, tapping his foot and prayingScott isn’t bothering to listen to his heartbeat.

 “I need to talk to you.”

 “Right, I got that,” Scott says, giving a playful, adorable grin. “Whatcha need?”

God, Derek is in way over his head.

 “I really... I don’t want you to feel pressured or anything.”

 “About what?” Scott asks, looking a little more concernednow.

 “Ireallylikeyou,” Derek says, all in one breath, because he has to get it out. “It’s not abig deal, but- yeah.” He clears his throat, forcing his voice away from that embarrassingpitch and back to its usual gruffness. “I’ve been meaning to tell you. And Iknow you’ve only ever dated girls, and you’re still in college, and you don’tlike me like that, but I just figured I should say something. You know. To you.”

 Scott is silent for a moment, actually looks alittle confused, so Derek plows on.

 “If it makes you uncomfortable, I don’t- we don’t- I can-go. I can go. Sorry. I just- thought you should know.”

 He reaches blindly behind himself, searching for the doorknob,when Scott stands up and walks over. He stops a foot or so short of where Derek’sstanding and shoves his hands in the pocket of his hoodie.

 “I know.”

 For some reason, Scott is smiling.

 “You- what?”

 “Der, I know,” Scott says, nudging Derek’s foot with hisown. “I’ve seenthe way you look at me when you think I don’t notice.”

 Derekstares, wide-eyed.

 Scottknows?

 “But…”he says, brow furrowing. “I don’t- I’m not-”

 “That obvious?”

 Derek can feel a terrible blush creeping up under hisstubble—seriously, how does Scott do this to him?—but before he can worry too muchabout how desperate he must’ve seemed, Scott leans in and kisses him.

 It’s quick and chaste, just a gentle brush of their lips,but it feels better than Derek could’ve ever imagined.

 “Don’t worry, dude. I think it’s adorable,” Scott says,winking. “And uh, for the record, I really like you too. A lot.”

 Derek kisses Scott, that time.  

[dydia]

Hope Is A Thing With Feathers

Ship: Scott/Derek

Rating: Teen & Up

Warnings: None

Other: Canon Compliant, Future Fic, Getting Together, Implied Malia/Kira

Words: 2,800

(Read it on AO3)

Sometimes Scott thinks about how it used to be, before. Before the bite. Before Allison. Before werewolves and kanimas and wendigos. Before he was an alpha. Before Lydia and Liam and Malia and Kira. Before Derek. In The Before things were different. Stiles was his one and only, his best friend, his brother. Maybe that’s the only thing that hasn’t changed, other than his mom. The two of them were his whole world, the only people he could count on for unconditional love.

Things are different, in The After.

He’s a twenty six year old alpha now, no longer the kid wonder from high school. He’s got his own apartment too, in one of the buildings Derek bought and renovated when he returned like the prodigal son to Beacon Hills a few years ago. There’s still unpacked boxes scattered around the living room and bedrooms, serving as makeshift coffee tables for the beer bottles and soda cans and empty pizza boxes left over from the pack. The apartment feels empty now, lonely, without Malia’s bark like laughter and Stiles’ snide jokes and the quiet puffs of air Derek lets out when he tries not to laugh. Scott already misses the special smiles Lydia saves just for him, all soft and proud without any of the razor sharp edges they usually possess. He misses the warmth of Liam pressed against his side, the comical way Brett and Mason still flit around each other, how Kira looks at Malia like she’s her sun, moon and stars. They’re a mature pack now, at least that’s what Deaton says. They all subconsciously know where they fit, their roles. They’re established. Scott still not sure what to make of it, but right now all he knows is that he’s lonely.

When he was at school he always had roommates, and if he was feeling alone he’d call up Stiles or his mom or Derek. But they were all just here, and he shouldn’t be feeling like this already. It’s strange, to know he’s loved but to feel so alone. He stares at his phone, opened up to his conversation with Derek.

It’s always Derek.

He’s not sure when Derek became more than a tentative ally. Derek’s not his best friend, no, that position will forever and always belong to Stiles. And anyways, whatever this is with Derek is different. He likes spending time with Derek, likes when they go talk to other packs together, likes it when he catches his mom and Derek gossiping over tea and cookies. He likes the way Derek smells, like the forest in the morning and faintly of old spice and just a little bit like worn leather. He likes the way their shoulders bump sometimes, the way Derek will clap him on the back after he’s done well, likes the steady sound of his heart beat in the background of every conversation. He likes the way Derek smiles at the ground almost sheepishly, the way his eyes crinkle in the corners when Stiles does something dumb. He like the way Derek looks half shifted, eyes glowing blue and fangs bared, the sight sending little thrills from his chest right down to his toes. He just really, really likes Derek.

Stiles says it’s an obsession.

Scott wouldn’t go that far. It’s true that he hasn’t dated in two years, hasn’t had a serious relationship since he and Kira ended things (amicably) in sophomore year of college. There were a few hook-ups in the interim, but nothing serious. And as Scott was quick to realize, he only does serious. And for the past two years the only person he’s wanted to get serious with is Derek.

Except…

He remembers what it was like, after The Before but before it was good. The animosity, the lying, the screwed up relationship they had. It’s so close to perfect now, and the last thing Scott wants is to hurt Derek again. He doesn’t want to rock the boat, doesn’t want to lose his friend.

Stiles says he’s just being a chicken shit.

Stiles also says that Derek’s been all ‘heart eyes mother fucker’ for Scott since junior year of high school. Scott thinks that’s bull shit. Yeah, things changed between the two of them that year, but Derek isn’t in love with him. Scott can see Stiles’ dubious look in his head right now, lips pursed, eyebrows raised, annoying as all hell. God. But what if he’s right?

Scott sighs and pushes himself to his feet, slowly gathering up the trash left over from the pack and eating the leftover piece of pepperoni pizza he finds. He wishes Derek were here with him now, watching him with soft eyes from the kitchen, big hands and strong arms embracing him, soft lips and stubble scratching against his cheeks. That’s what he wants, to know what beard burn feels like on the insides of his thighs, and what Derek’s mouth tastes like first thing in the morning. He wants to love Derek, in every way.

“I’m so screwed,” he grumbles under his breath, shaking his head sadly. “So, so screwed.” His cat, Spooky, doesn’t respond, just flicks her tail and stalks off in the direction of his bedroom, probably heading for his pillow. Because she’s a dick. Scott follows her anyway, feeling melancholy as his socks slide across the hardwood floors he helped Derek restore last summer. That’d been when he’d first realized how bad he had it. It had taken them two weeks to do the whole building and it was hotter than hell, temperatures breaking records even for California. It wasn’t the heat that bothered Scott, it was working side by side with Derek, stripped out of his shirt, torso sticky with sweat and sawdust clinging to the dark hair on his chest. It was the tool belt hanging off his hips, the way his biceps bunched and his tattoo rippled on his back when he ran the industrial size sander he’d rented. It was when they’d meet up with the rest of the pack at the lake after, and Derek would shed his jeans and dive into the water. Only Scott was the one gasping for air.

Just as Scott’s about to flick the hall light off, there’s three rapid knocks from the door. He knows it’s Derek immediately, can identify his heartbeat, a little faster than normal, but still familiar. His own heart leaps with anticipation and he has to wrestle it into submission, taking purposefully slow steps towards the door as he attempts to reign in his emotions. He’s sure it’s not working, knows there’s a flush on his cheeks and he’s smiling too wide for it to be normal. Derek’s staring at the floor when he swings open the door, hands shoved in the pockets of his indecently tight jeans, eyelashes like dark smudges across his cheeks.

“You didn’t even ask who it was,” he murmurs, a teasing lilt to his soft voice as he looks up at Scott. He feels breathless, like he just jumped off the swings on the playground and landed flat on his back.

“I knew it was you,” he manages to spit out, the words rolling off his tongue too freely compared to the panicky nature of his thoughts. “I can recognize your heartbeat.” It would be comical, the way Derek’s head tilts and his eyes narrow like a confused puppy, if Scott wasn’t panicking internally. It’s not a big deal, Derek’s isn’t the only heartbeat he recognizes. He can pick Stiles and his mom out of a crowd within seconds, and the rest of the pack after a few moments. But the way Derek’s looking at him makes it a big deal, makes it seem like a declaration of some sort. And it kind of is, but that wasn’t Scott’s intention.

The questions never come though, instead Derek just almost smiles, his eyes a soft green in the dim hall lights. “I forgot my sweatshirt.” He says, a clear lie that Scott doesn’t even need to be a werewolf to detect. It’s visible in the sparkle in Derek’s eyes, the almost mischievous curve to Derek’s entire expression that does nothing except light a flame of hope in Scott’s chest. He let’s him in, closing the door carefully behind him and turning to watch Derek wander through the apartment. There’s a grin on his face for no reason, and it feels like a game, waiting to see what Derek’s going to do. There’s no sweatshirt here, there’s just boxes full of crap and a second hand couch that has a few to many unidentifiable stains on it. There isn’t even a TV in the living room yet, just the one set up in his bedroom. It was the first thing he and Stiles did when they got there that morning.

Derek runs his fingers across the back of the couch, fists his hands in the curtains Lydia hung in the windows. The motions are very deliberate and it takes Scott a minute to realize what he’s doing. When Derek turns back around he finds himself smirking, enjoying the almost guilty look the flickers briefly across his face.

“I think that couch might need a little more aggressive touch if you want it to smell like you,” he teases, stomach flipping when Derek’s ears burn decidedly pink. Scott’s torn between wanting to coo at him and kiss him breathless. Derek opens his mouth like he’s going to explain, but then his scent sours just slightly and he snaps it shut, eyes shuddering. It makes Scott ache to watch him shut down like that, and he just has to fix it. “Derek.” He steps cautiously forward, curling his fingers around Derek’s wrist. It always surprises Scott, how big Derek seems, but his skin and bones always feel so delicate beneath his touch, like he could shatter so easily. “Want to come watch TV with me? I have The X-Files queued up on Netflix?”

Derek’s body loosens by degrees, slowly, until he’s almost smiling at Scott and nodding in agreement. Scott feels warm all over, excitement thrumming in his chest like he’s seventeen again and Kira is coming over to watch a movie. He wants to be embarrassed, but the idea of his bed smelling like Derek for days after this is enough to distract him. Plus he can tell Derek’s excited too, can sense the minor changes in his scent, his heartbeat, and the lines of shoulders.

He leads Derek down the hall, only letting go of his wrist once they step into his bedroom. It’s still a mess, boxes half unpacked and scattered around, stacked precariously on top of his dresser. But his bed is made (he thinks Kira and Liam did it), with more pillows than any one person needs and his favorite quilt that his abuela made him for his thirteenth birthday. The TV is just a tad lopsided on the wall, tilting slightly to the right, but Scott doesn’t mind. It’s distinctively scottandstiles, and he wouldn’t want it any other way.

He can sense Derek hesitating behind him, but he doesn’t turn to check, instead half bouncing onto the bed and squirming his way under the covers. Over the years he’s learned that Derek responds better when he’s given the opportunity to make his own decisions, that pressure and urgency only make him clam up and angry. So he busies himself with turning on his Xbox and pulling up Netflix, watching out of the corner of his eye as Derek slowly toes off his sneakers and hesitantly nears the bed.

“I hope The X-Files is okay with you,” he says after a moment, smiling in what he hopes is an inviting way. “I started it a couple month ago and I’m hooked.” The bed dips, and he fights back a smile, forcing himself to keep his eyes on the TV. “Mulder and Scully are definitely Stiles and Lydia, though.” Derek’s pressed all up against him now, from their shoulders to their thighs, and all Scott wants is to turn and crawl into his lap, wrap his arms around him and bury his face in his chest. Instead he just kind of melts against him, eyes glued to the TV as the familiar intro music plays. They’re not really touching though, not fingers on skin, and it’s all Scott can think about. He has his own show playing in his head, images of him and Derek, holding hands, snuggled up under the blanket, noses brushing followed by lips, the soft drag of skin on skin. He would let Derek roll on top of him, he thinks, would bare his neck in invitation, and wouldn’t let the marks heal either.

“Scott.”

Derek’s looking at him with wide eyes, although there might be amusement dancing around his mouth. He’s beautiful in the soft light from the TV, the hollows of his cheeks and neck in shadow, eyes almost gray in the dark. Scott wants to kiss him, wants to taste his lips and their mingled breaths. “I didn’t mean to intrude.” Derek continues, his brow creasing in the middle. Scott doesn’t like it when he does that, so he reaches up to smooth it with his forefinger, tracing the entire length of his thick brow.

“Nah man, I was thinking about you anyways.”

Derek looks surprised, blinking rapidly as he stares at Scott. He really hadn’t meant to say that, but at this point he’s tired of hiding it, tired of pretending not to want. “I mean…” He sighs and pushes a hand through his hair, shifting slightly on the bed so that he can see Derek better. “You just… I think about you a lot, I guess, is what I’m trying to say.” Derek’s face is carefully blank, and dread curls in his stomach, cold and sour. “I uh, sorry? I don’t want to make things weird or anything ‘cause I really like being your friend dude but sometimes I just… get lost in my thoughts?” Silence follows his not-declaration, and he can’t bring himself to look up at Derek again, fearing the rejection he might find there. But at the same time he knows Derek needs a minute to process this, that he likes to think things through before speaking (the complete opposite of Stiles). Knowing that only makes it worse, the sound of Scully recording an autopsy in the background not exactly settling his nerves. He’s preparing himself to be let down easy when thick fingers curl around his jaw, warm palms cupping his cheeks and tilting his face up.

“Scott,” Derek whispers, the sound sending thrills down his spine, the little flame of hope flickering back to life in his chest. Derek opens his mouth like he wants to say more but can’t, eyes bright and brimming with emotion. He doesn’t need to say anything else, Scott can see it all there on his face, the affection and possibly adoration that transform his often hard expression into something soft and beautiful.

Scott’s gaze drifts down to Derek’s lips and then back up again, unable to stop himself from smirking at Derek’s sharp intake of breath. He takes that as an invitation but moves slowly anyways, giving Derek as much time as he can to pull away if he wants. He doesn’t though, and their first kiss is unbearably gentle, a simple press of lips, sticking slightly when they pull apart. Scott grins when he pulls back, stomach flipping when Derek smiles too, wide and beautiful and live changing. There’s no stopping him now, curling his hand around Derek’s neck and pulling him down into another kiss, this one wetter and longer and dirty. Derek’s hands are under his shirt, curling around his ribs, sliding up his back as he drags him into his lap. They fit together better than Scott imagined they would, Derek all solid strength beneath him. He tastes like Listerine and it makes Scott want to laugh, thinking that maybe Derek had been hoping for this all along. Any laughter is dragged into a moan when Derek’s lips close around his Adam’s apple, their hips rolling together and making Scott ache in the best way.

“I’m in love with you, you know.” He whispers, ridiculously pleased when Derek just whines against his throat, the arousal and want in the air only growing thicker.

In the background Mulder is trying to convince Scully that aliens were somehow involved in their latest case, Derek’s fingers are pressing bruises against Scott’s hips, and he wouldn’t want to change a thing.

[stilesbansheequeen]

The Things We’ve had to Do

When Derek has a nightmare about being forced to bite Gerard, Scott tries his best to comfort him. Unfortunately, he’s not the only one who needs comfort…

[angst war pt. 6 for velociraptervevo]

Scott wakes to a knee in his back.

“Wha-?” he slurs, flopping over in bed. “Der’k?”

Derek, apparently still asleep, is lashing out wildly under the sheets.

Scott scrambles to the edge of the bed to avoid the line of fire, dragging the back of a hand over his face to get the crud out of his eyes.

“Derek?” he says, more awake now. A knee in the back will do that to a guy. “Hey, wake up.”

Derek pays him absolutely no mind, just continues thrashing around, punching and kicking at the air like it personally offended him.

“Derek! Wake up!”

The only response he gets is Derek rumbling under his breath.

Scott sighs, because this really isn’t the best way to be woken at 3:08 in the morning. Besides, Derek’s always horribly embarrassed by his nightmares, and rather than talking it out, he absolutely insists Scott shouldn’t worry about them and then goes back to bed. Or, pretends to. He usually ends up laying there for at least an hour, and Scott tries not to abuse his enhanced senses by letting Derek know he knows he’s not really sleeping. Derek probably knows, anyway.

When Derek stills for second, Scott darts a hand out to grab his shoulder, shaking him.

“Der! Wake up!”

Derek throws out a clawed hand and grabs him by the wrist, flipping him onto his back and pinning his arm behind it before Scott even has a chance to register what happened. Suddenly Derek’s face is right in his, his blue eyes unseeing as they pierce the darkness, his fangs out and breath hot on Scott’s face.

“Derek,” Scott says carefully. “You need to calm down.”

Apparently, that was the wrong thing to say.

Derek snarls and yanks Scott’s arm further up the mattress, and it twists painfully as it nears his shoulder blade.

Scott takes in a sharp breath, but otherwise does nothing to upset Derek further. He could alpha command him to get off—he remembers roaring at Isaac when he’d panicked and dug his claws into Allison’s wrist, roaring at Liam in the woods once, Stiles telling him about how Derek had cowed Isaac on his first full moon—but the last thing Derek needs is for Scott to terrify him. Clearly, he’s already scared enough.

Derek moves his face impossibly closer, body pressed hard into Scott’s, growling right in his face. There’s cold sweat beaded on his forehead, and all Scott wants to do is shush him and tell him it’s alright. Instead, he has to overpower him.

He lets himself go completely lax, and in a moment of confusion, Derek lets up his grip. Scott immediately uses his superior strength to flip them over, so he’s the one on top. He grabs both Derek’s wrists in one hand and pins them over his head, and uses the other to hold himself up over him.

“Derek,” he growls, letting his eyes glint red. It’s not a real command, not enough to force him to submit, but enough to remind him who Scott is.

Derek glares defiantly for a second, eyes still angry and feral, before recognition flickers there. Suddenly they go wide, and he stops straining against Scott’s hold.

“Scott?” he asks, and it comes out a little distorted past his fangs.

“Hey,” Scott says softly, loosening his grasp a little. “You good?”

Derek jerks his chin, hard and quick, and Scott can already smell embarrassment snaking its way in with the other scents in the room.

“Good,” he says, rolling off him.

Before Scott even has a chance to sit up, Derek is rushing into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. Scott winces as he hears his back smack into it, before he sinks to the floor.

Well, that’s not going to work.

“Derek?” Scott says tentatively, getting up to knock. “You okay?”

“I’m fine.”

His frantic heartbeat and too-quick breathing say otherwise.

“Mind if I come in?”

“I-” But apparently, even Derek knows he can’t just tell Scott to go back to bed on this one. “Yeah.”

There’s a slight shuffling as Derek moves away from the door, and when he settles again, Scott opens it slowly.

“Hey,” he says, closing the door behind him and sitting cross-legged in front of it. Derek’s leaning against the bathtub now, looking anywhere but Scott. “What’s up?”

Derek shrugs.

“I’m sorry,” he says, frowning guiltily. “I didn’t mean-”

“I know,” Scott says, cutting off the needless apology. “It’s alright.”

“Because attacking your boyfriend in the middle of the night is perfectly alright,” Derek says flatly.

“You’ve got quite the grip,” Scott says, rolling his shoulder back. “But it’s no match for my mighty alpha healing.”

“You should leave the jokes to Stiles,” Derek says, but it’s the closest he’s come to a smile yet.

“I’ll send him your praise. But uh, you wanna tell me what that was about?”

Derek’s smile falls away fast.

“Just a stupid dream,” he tells his knees.  

“You wanna talk about it?”

It’s not like they can not talk about it. They’re sitting on the bathroom floor together at 3am. It’s kind of the point of no return, as far as Scott’s concerned.

“We don’t have to,” Derek says, shrugging. “It’s not that big a deal.”

Neither of them needs to be werewolves to figure that lie out.

“Was it-” Scott falters, not sure where the line is on what they can talk about. They’ve been together for three years, but there’s some shit in both their lives so screwed up that they still haven’t touched on it together. “Um, a family thing?”

Derek shakes his head.

“A, um- a… Kate thing?”

And again.

This is the most painful guessing game ever. Derek seems to think so too, because he mumbles something so quietly Scott almost doesn’t catch it.

“It was about me?”

He nods.

“Oh.”

They’re both silent for a moment.

Finally, Scott asks, “Did I die? Or get hurt? Or…?”

“No. It was… the thing with Gerard,” Derek says quietly.

Scott almost wants to say what, to get confirmation on that, because he desperately wishes he heard wrong. Unfortunately, he’s pretty sure he knows exactly what Derek’s talking about.

“Biting him?”

Derek swallows hard. Nods.

“Oh, fuck.”

“It’s really not important,” he says, voice soft. “It was forever ago.”

It was forever ago. Back when they first knew each other, and Scott was still a stupid sophomore in high school. A stupid, selfish, unthinking-

“It’s really fine,” he adds, after Scott doesn’t say anything for a while.

Except it’s not. It’s really, really not, because it had freaked Derek out so much that he’d wolfed out, even though he’s always so good with control, and had even gone against instinct and roared at his own alpha. Had roared at Scott. And now they’re two full gown adults sitting on the cramped bathroom floor in the middle of the night, and nothing’s really fine at all.

“It’s not,” Scott says. “That was- that was probably the stupidest thing I’ve ever done, Derek.”

“I don’t know,” Derek says, looking up at him with a sad little smile. “You’ve done some pretty stupid things.”

Scott scoffs. He appreciates him trying to make light of this, but he can’t go along with it.

“Der, seriously. I’m sorry. I don’t even know how to apologize for it. I mean- that was a dumbass move, and I didn’t take your feelings into account.” But no. No, that’s not true. He purposely didn’t tell Derek, because he thought he wouldn’t approve. “I mean- I did. I knew it was an asshole thing to do, and I did it anyway.”

“You were trying to save everyone. You did save everyone,” Derek points out. “And it’s not like we were even friends back then. Allison… she was your girlfriend, and you wanted to protect her.”

And isn’t that ironic?

A heavy weight settles in Scott’s stomach as he remembers it, the horror on Derek’s face and the triumph on Gerard’s. The fact that he can picture it so perfectly after all this time really goes to show how screwed up the entire thing was.

“Scott- Scott, don’t. You know he’s gonna kill me right after. He’ll be an alpha.”

 “That’s true. But I think he already knows that, don’t you, Scott? He knows that the ultimate prize is Allison. Do this small task for me, and they can be together. You are the only piece that doesn’t fit, Derek. And in case you haven’t learned yet, there’s just no competing with young love.”

 “Scott- don’t. Don’t!”

 “I’m sorry. But I have to.”

He remembers Derek’s labored breathing, the desperation in his voice, the look in his eyes as Scott dragged his head back, forced him to give the bite—the gift—to the man whose daughter murdered his family.

“If anyone knows about doing stupid things for a girl…” Derek says, dragging Scott back to the present. He thinks of the blue eyes flashing at him in the darkness. “And it wasn’t stupid. You saved a lot more people than her. Isaac and Stiles. Lydia and Jackson. Chris and Peter. Me.”

But that’s not the problem. The problem is that Scott had been a complete jerk about it.

He remembers Derek looking up at him, eyes wide and vulnerable and betrayed. Remembers the careless cruelty of his words.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

 “Because you might be an alpha, but you’re not mine.”

You’re not mine, so you deserve to think you’re going to die over a plan I could’ve fucking easily let you in on.

Derek seems to be thinking along the same general lines, because he says, “I get why you didn’t tell me, Scott. I wouldn’t have thought it could work. I thought you were a bunch of stupid teenagers in way over your heads, and there’s no way in hell I would’ve willingly bit him.”

“It doesn’t- that doesn’t matter, Derek. I should’ve convinced you, should’ve at least tried talking to you, should’ve done something.”

“It wouldn’t have worked,” Derek shrugs. “I would’ve been an ass about it.”

“And that makes it okay for me to let you think you were going to die? That I was going to sacrifice you? That’s- You know that’s screwed up, Derek. You don’t have to act like it’s okay.”

“We’ve both done things that aren’t okay, Scott. I was trying to kill Lydia right before that. I got a group of teenagers together to help me kill one of your friends. I never apologized to you for that. I never even apologized to Lydia for that. So, if you weren’t interested in running your plans by me, I get that. We could sit here doing this all day. We’ve both done some fucked up shit to protect people, but that doesn’t mean it wasn’t worth it.”

Scott will never understand how Derek does that; how he’s not big on talking most of the time, but how even when he’s upset, he can pull an inspirational speech out of thin air if he really believes in something.

The fact that Scott is one of the things, the people, that he really believes in means more than Derek probably knows.

“I never even think about that anymore,” he continues, frowning. “I don’t know where it came from. I mean, I guess I used to think about it, for a while after it happened, but it wasn’t that bad. We’ve all almost died way too often, so in the one case where I wasn’t in any actual danger, I just… put it out of my mind. You really don’t need to feel bad about it.”

Scott doesn’t know what to say. That should be comforting, but it’s not; Derek’s almost died enough times that even something as traumatic as that usually doesn’t even faze him. Scott has the urge to reach across the tiny bathroom, to lean forward and put a hand on the back of Derek’s neck, because that always comforts him, even if he doesn’t like to admit it. He stops himself just in time, though, remembering how he’d grabbed Derek by his nape, dragged his paralyzed body off the ground, hauled him over to Gerard as Derek pleaded with him to stop. A horrible chill creeps up his spine.  

Silence settles over them, and they sit just sit there a while, staring at the floor.

After a while, Derek abruptly stands, and reaches a hand down for Scott.

“We have work in the morning,” he says, as he pulls him to his feet. “My boss probably won’t accept ‘supernatural nightmares’ as a good reason to take a personal day.”

Scott follows him back to bed, feeling empty. They lay down and Derek spoons him, and Scott feels sick that they’re just going to sleep. They talked about it, sure, but not enough. He hadn’t apologized enough. He can’t apologize enough.

They lay there for a while, Scott feeling completely undeserving of the warm arms wrapped around him. He stares at the alarm clock till the numbers start to blur a little.

Derek snuggles in closer, and his breath is warm on Scott’s neck when he whispers, “You still smell upset.”

“I just can’t believe we never talked about that before. That I never even apologized for scaring you like that, Derek.”

“I told you, it’s not-”

“Not a big deal,” Scott finishes. “I know. Even if it’s not a big deal to you now, it was then. That was horrible of me, and I’m so, so sorry for doing that to you, and I don’t- I don’t even know how to apologize.”

The numbers on the clock are just a glowing green blob now, and his eyes are cloudy for a different reason.

“You just did,” Derek says, pressing a kiss to his hair. “I did more stupid stuff than anyone as a teenager. I get feeling like your back is against the wall, and I get feeling guilty for it. But you don’t need to, I promise. I love you, okay? The dumbass things we do balance each other out. This isn’t about me not wanting to talk about it anymore. This is me knowing you did what you had to do, and forgiving you for not telling me, because you saved my life. It’s okay, Scott.”

Scott could almost cry when his heartbeat stays strong and steady.

“Thank you,” he murmurs.

“Of course,” Derek whispers. “Besides, between me and Peter, we’ve turned three hunters. That’s a pretty impressive record.”

Scott laughs, and even though it comes out a little wet, it makes him feel better.

“There we go,” Derek says softly.

He smiles into the back of Scott’s neck, and while everything they’ve done isn’t suddenly fixed, they both know they’re going to be okay.  

Eventually Scott falls asleep, still listening to the sound of Derek’s heartbeat.