the sleepy derek

anonymous asked:

Oooooooo tell me more about Derek feeling small and safe and loved 😍

You hit me at exactly the right time because I was just finishing this:

Just picture Derek waking up late on a quiet Sunday morning, pulling on Stiles’ worn FBI shirt in a sleepy haze, and shuffling out to the kitchen where there’s a mug of fresh coffee waiting for him. Stiles is making breakfast and just lets him putter around in the background while he wakes up–he still finds a half-asleep Derek impossibly endearing, and if he can avoid waking him up fully, he does. Every chance he gets. It’s still something of a novelty that Derek doesn’t jerk awake at the slightest movement or creaking floorboard.

In this particular future, they’ve got a house up in the mountains overlooking Beacon Hills, and Derek likes to shuffle out onto the deck to drink his coffee and read the paper when he’s conscious enough. It usually takes a few tries to get both the sliding door and the screen unlocked and open, but he gets there eventually. Stiles just lets it happen, however long it takes.

When breakfast is ready and on the table, he follows Derek outside and hugs him from behind so he can hook his chin over his shoulder and look out at the city. There’s a chilly breeze because it’s moving into fall, but with Derek in his arms blocking the wind, he’s still warm. 

He presses kisses to Derek’s neck and stubbly jaw, and runs his hands up under the front of his own shirt, and marvels at the extra space through the chest and shoulders. Derek’s eased up on his workouts over the years, the further from danger and memories they got, and he’s not soft by any means, just less obsessive with being prepared for an attack of any kind. He doesn’t feel like he has to be a physical wall against any and all threats, not anymore.

There are good days and bad, of course there are bad days with everything they’ve been through in life, but the weekends are always theirs. The weekends are for waking up late and having real breakfast that’s not a rushed piece of toast in the car on the way into the Sacramento field office, and half-asleep coffee on the deck while the city comes alive. 

They’ll probably go back to bed after they eat–maybe have some lazy and playful sex if they’re in the mood. Maybe they’ll just spoon and doze into the afternoon, because even though Stiles loves being the little spoon when he sleeps, he also loves holding Derek in his arms while the sun’s light lazily inches across their bedroom.

“Breakfast’s ready,” he murmurs quietly, and presses a kiss to Derek’s shoulder before pulling him back into the house. Derek’s eyes still aren’t open all the way, but he willingly goes where Stiles tugs him, knowing he’ll never steer him wrong.

         On moving-in day, emotions are high, as is the radio, and mostly everyone is sweating and/or in some kind of state of undress. Nursey, who falls into both categories, as he is glistening and smelly as well as shirtless, is busy carrying boxes up and down the Haus stairs. Having already transferred all of Lardo’s stuff into the moving truck that is taking her, Holster’s, and Ransom’s stuff to their newly leased apartment in Boston, Nursey is now transferring his own things from the carts the that he and Dex borrowed from Faber that are traditionally used for moving around large amounts of equipment to his and Dex’s new room.

         His and Dex’s. It’s stupid, but there’s a little fluttering, not unlike the butterflies that Nursey finds to cliché to reference, in the middle of his chest at the thought of theirs. Even if it’s a shared room. Even if it’s a forcibly shared room. Nursey, who is now painfully familiar with the tango of unrequited love, takes what he can get.

         He sets down the newest box next to a couple of other ones on the desk that Shitty left, Lardo kept, and is no handed down to Dex and Nursey. They managed a pretty good set up, considering that the room really is meant for only one person. One bed, which Shitty had pushed up against the right-hand corner when you first enter the room, has been put back from where Lardo had it up against the wall of windows. It’s a raised bed, the same one Shitty used, and it had been salvaged from the basement and cleaned and checked thoroughly for weaknesses prior to being installed by Dex. Where the closet used to be, but now is just an alcove-type thing due to a mishap with a sledgehammer in Johnson’s frog year, houses the other bed. That bed takes up the entire space of the alcove and is a cozy place to study. Nursey got dibs on that one, simply because he and Dex decided that a drunk, clumsy Nursey would never be able to get up the ladder to the raised bed. A desk is shoved next to Dex’s bed and a dresser and a clothes rack have been squeezed in to make room for their clothes.

         Dex says that he’ll put up some shelves for their stuff in the fall, but he wants to wait until he can get back home to get the wood. One of his uncles runs a lumber yard and will give him a discount on planks, and his part-time job at a hardware store up in Maine has an employee discount on the various hardware that he needs (Nursey stopped listening after Dex started mumbling to himself about bolt sizes. It was easier just to watch his lips move and sigh.)

         It’s a good set up and they won’t be on top of each other if they’re both in here at once. They’ll probably survive. They might even be able to manage a few good memories. Nursey’s eyes catch on the slit in the flooring, where a quarter rolled itself not three months earlier, and his subconscious starts spewing musings of fate. His lips quirk into an unbidden smile, just like they had that day. No, he hadn’t been able to conceal his excitement at the thought of sharing a room with Dex. He had been incredibly disappointed to learn that Ollie and Wicks had gotten the attic, and not just because that had meant, at the time, that he and Dex would have to fight over Lardo’s dibs.

         “Nursey, honey, come downstairs!” Bitty calls. Nursey shakes himself and follows the voice down to the kitchen, where most of the SMH, plus a few more, are congregating over an apple pie alamode because it is fucking hot. Caitlin came over to help move them in, so she and Chowder are sharing a piece of pie- fine, Nursey thinks, but doesn’t say. The season’s over; no more fines. Dex had gotten his dryer back in February and everything Valentine’s Day entailed. Nursey had spent his birthday fining the team right along with Dex, and then they watched Monty Python movies and ate the birthday pie Bitty had made Nursey together on the couch. Nursey considered it to be one of the best birthdays he’d ever had.

         Aside from Chowder and Caitlin, most of the SMH couples were present as well; Jack and Bitty, Lardo and Shitty, Ollie and Wicks, Ransom and Holster (who weren’t dating, but everyone considered them a couple), and Ford and her most recent drama girlfriend. Sadly, none of these girlfriends stuck long. As well as the couples, Johnson had also come back to visit, and Tango, Whiskey, and Whiskey’s lax bro friend, Baby Chad (who everyone had agreed was kind of alright) were there to help move as well. It was a big job; clearing out Lardo’s room and the attic and then moving all of the new tenants’ stuff in. Nursey’s stuff had taken the longest, boxes and boxes of books, so he’d been left to finish up his own stuff alone as the rest of the guys set up the stuff for a picnic.

         Dex slides into place next to Nursey, offering him one of the pink hard lemonades that Bitty had gotten everyone addicted to. Nursey takes it with a small smile and marvels a bit at the similarities between the color of the drink and Dex’s skin in the almost-summer heat.

         “I have to set up some shelves and we’ll definitely need more space for all your fancy hipster clothes, but I think it’ll be okay,” Dex says, eyebrows pulling together seriously before smoothing out as he finishes the sentence, offering Nursey a small smile.

         “Hmm, yeah.” Nursey takes a sip of lemonade. He glances at Dex and grins. “It might not suck.”

         “Of course, you will have to keep your books from getting underfoot,” Dex says, the tone he uses for their banter tinging his words playfully.

         “And if I step on some kind of hardware thing, I’ll wake you up with a bucket of water.” Nursey nods seriously. Dex nods back.

         “Of course.” He takes a sip of his own drink. “And if you try to talk to me while I’m tweaking over school work, I’ll put a live lobster in your bed.”

         Nursey can’t help but laugh at that one after all the references to lobsters that he’s made Dex endure over the past two years. Dex smiles back, arm paused halfway through the motion of bringing up the lip of his bottle to his mouth, and it’s such a good look on him that Nursey can’t help but sigh through his nose.

         “Look!” Chowder cheers, smiling brightly and a little too much- he’s probably hit the hard lemonade too. “ They’re getting along!”

         The rest of the group laughs as Dex says, “Don’t get used to it.”

“I bet this’ll be the last time they get along until graduation,” Holster says, grinning happily even though his cheeks are tear stained from earlier.

Dex flips him off good-naturedly. Then he rolls his eyes, sharing it with Nursey, as if to say, they’re ridiculous. Then he grins, a bit of mischief in his eye, and Nursey takes this to mean, let’s prove them wrong.

         Yeah, Nursey thinks, let’s.

        ~original lifeline~

“Maybe Void is your wolf, and the thing that
pulls you back… that’s your anchor. It’s not
exactly the same, but it’s not as different as
you’re making it sound, either. It is you, a part
of you, like the wolf’s a part of me. And I’ll help
you focus it, help you control it and harness it. 

“But if you’re looking for someone to judge
or punish you for it… I’m not going to.”

          @master-nikoli || @haletheking

Parenthood Means No One Sleeps

Stiles and Derek are new parents and they haven’t slept in days.

‘Laura is sleeping in the laundry.’

Derek stared at his phone in disbelief, reading the text over five times before he was sure that that was what it said. He paused, wondering if his husband was really so sleep deprived that he had put their daughter in the laundry like a dog.

Neither of them had slept in the past week; “One of the many joys of parenthood,” Melissa called it. But Derek had no doubt that Stiles loved their daughter too much to ever leave her in the laundry.

That did, however, leave Derek with a lot of questions.

He quickly dialled Stiles’ number and called.

He heard Stiles answer but Derek cut him off before he could speak.

“What have you done?” Derek asked, trying to hide the panic in his voice.

“I was doing the laundry,” Stiles explained. “And I put Laura in the basket of blankets that was on top of the washing machine so she didn’t get under my feet. I set off a load of washing and started folding up the towels, and when I turned back to get the basket of blankets, she was asleep. Wait, I’ll send you a photo.”

Derek heard Stiles juggle his phone and step back into the laundry, the familiar quiet hum of the washing machine reaching Derek’s ears.

After a minute, his phone buzzed in his hand.

Derek put the call on loud speaker and opened the message Stiles had sent him. He opened the photo of his daughter and couldn’t help but smile at what he saw.

As Stiles had said, she was curled up in one of the baskets, nestled in a cradle of soft bedsheets. She was laying on her side with her chubby little arms and legs drawn in close.

She sleeps like Stiles, Derek thought to himself.

Laura’s glimmering hazel eyes were hidden beneath heavy eyelids and her chubby cheeks were coloured with a soft rosy colour.

“The machine rocked her to sleep,” Stiles explained.

“We spend hundreds of dollars on mobiles, rockers, cradles, and toys, and all she needs is a basket of laundry and the washing machine,” Derek muttered.

“A woman of simple needs,” Stiles said with a weak chuckle.

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Watch It

A/N: Also slightly based off of the song “Shape Of You” by Ed Sheeran. I hope you guys like it! It turned into something much longer than I expected.

I do not own Teen Wolf or it’s characters. Sadly.

Word Count: 3,291

Warnings: None that I know of. Mild language?

Beautiful people who helped me when I came to them with this crazy idea and said to run with it: @aworldmadeforme @life-what-life-i-dont-have-one

Anon said: “I thought of a Roomies thing that maybe plays into the direction of their storyline you might be headed in?? Y/n is having a rough night, and she doesn’t want to be alone with her thoughts, but on this particular night, Isaac isn’t home. After/while debating with herself over it she tentatively creeps across the loft to Derek’s room and peers in, before changing her mind at the last minute. As she goes to creep back to her room again, he’s like “what the hell is it you’re doing?” And-she’s caught in the headlights of Derek’s glowing alpha eyes. Basically, she ends up staying in Derek’s bed, and they predictably are awkward and funny but it’s ultimately sweet?? Idk, if it’s a bad idea don’t worry about it or anything haha ☺️x”


Anon said: “derek x reader based on bad liar by selena gomez pls?”


You tossed and turned, battling with the sheets just as much as you were your mind. They wrapped around you like a cocoon from the way you must have thrashed in your sleep, keeping you confined to the bed like restraints. Normally you wouldn’t have minded, waking up as a human burrito was actually quite calming, but the thoughts that came to mind every time you closed your eyes just made the safe swaddle feel like a strangling stronghold.

You chuckle at the thought. You could be quite poetic with the right amount of sleep deprivation.

You huffed, slapping a hand to your forehead. Of course tonight was the night Isaac was gone, out on some night patrol with Peter per request of Scott because of some tiny, but disturbing, series of events that had everyone in the pack on edge.

Water. A glass of the cold liquid would surely scare away the demons, right? After all, most of your thoughts consisted of flames and burning things, so water it was.

After fighting with the sheets wrapped around you for too long a time to be reasonable, you plopped to the floor with a soft thud, moaning gently before you rose to your feet, dragging them sleepily across the floor, not even putting in the effort to lift them even a little. This proved a bit harder to handle as you made your way across the concrete floors of the living room, proving to be a slick ice to your sock clad feet, and you floundered just a little before regaining your footing.

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Dex drops to his knees. “This cannot be happening.” Dimly, in the background noise of the utter ruin of his whole entire life he hears Nursey says, “Chill.”

“King Solomon himself could not have come up with a solution more wise,” Bitty says.

Dex wants to die right now. Just sink through the floorboards and expire. Sharing Lardo’s room with Derek Nurse. Seeing sleepy Derek Nurse with morning scruff and tired eyes, electric Derek Nurse hunched over his poetry notebook. Shit. Fuck. Shit.

“Don’t worry,” Nurse says. “I give it until September before you move out. Maybe October.”

Dex grinds his teeth.

“Chill,” Derek says again, and Chowder pokes his head into the room.

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A Sleep Study

Its five in the fucking morning, but why not write a fic about a much better version of my awake perdicament.

I just wanna let Y'all know that I read all of your tags, every single one, and I really like them, so please tag as much as you want.

Anyway, this one’s pretty short but here you go.

Its four in the morning when Derek wakes up to soft contented huffs of warm air against his neck. He doesn’t remember letting Stiles sleep in his bed, probably because what he does remember includes sticking the little shit on the couch where he belongs.

More than likely, the boy wriggled himself into Derek’s space long after the wolf had fallen asleep, entered REM, and begun to dream. It surprised Derek endlessly that he could sleep so comatose with Stiles wandering around his personal space, sometimes even loudly. Anyone else could crack at the joints around him when they walked and stir him awake. He supposed that’s what trust felt like.

Really, he should kick the teen out of his damn bed. Push him away, tell him to fuck off, and stop letting him frequent his loft so often if this is what he was going to do. But, as he lay on his side and stare down at the sleeping form of the offender, he just can’t bring himself to do it.

Stiles is curled sweetly into his chest, nose pressed into his collar bones, sending furls of his breath in every which direction. His hands grip loosely at the nearest fabric they can find, the left taking hold of the sheets, and his right fingers tangled in Derek’s own sweats. He’s be sleep warm, but as usual, his hands are cold.

Derek thinks the boy’s hair is getting a little long, if the way it sticks up in every direction is any indication. He can’t help but run his fingers through it carefully, wondering for what must be the dozenth time how its always so soft. The sent of the sweet chamomile shampoo he uses assaults his nose when he does, and he inhales it deeply. He’s sure he hated it before, his sensitive nose almost always preferring a person’s natural scent, but now it’s comforting in a way he can’t quite put his finger on.

Stiles makes a little sound if contentment in his sleep, so Derek repeats the motion a few times, until he snuggles up closer, jamming his face right into the crook of Derek’s neck.

He resigns himself to counting the moles he can see peaking out from under Stiles shirt, which has ridden up to his waist, since he’s not tired enough to sleep, but too sleepy to get up. He realizes, only after he’s pressed his palm into the soft skin of Stiles’ back and started to rub, that it’s actually his shirt. Not even a clean one, but the one he’d taken off and tossed on the floor before he went to sleep.

He grins toothily to himself at the image of Stiles finding it and tugging it on unabashedly. Likes its not just about the strangest thing in the world to pick up someone’s dirty laundry and just put it on. He supposes if they were lovers it would be normal, but as they are now it makes him itch to tease. Stiles has obviously picked up the need to scent mark himself from the rest of the pack, probably unknowingly, and it’s stupidly cute that this is how he chooses to do it.

He wonders idly when the things Stiles stopped being ridiculously aggravating, and started being cute. He fondly remembers a time when something like this would have him slamming the kid’s head into his steering wheel.

Now though, his violent urges have been replaced with the urge to pet, and rub, and maybe even kiss. He sternly tells his intrusive thoughts to knock it off and let him sleep, but all he gets in return for his efforts is Stiles’ wriggling around and somehow ending up pressed even close to him in his new position.

He pushes himself back and away, not to escape, but because he wants to continue watching the boy sleep. He keeps an arm around Stiles waist, and uses the thumb of his free hand to trace over his face. Thickly lashed Eyelids, turned up nose, soft pink lips, each feature perfect in its own right.

He’s only a little surprised when Stiles chooses to flutter awake just then, all the moving and touching having been pushing it after all.

He blinks sleepily up at Derek, and Derek, undeterred, continues to have his fill of the boy’s pretty face. This should the part where he pushes Stiles onto the floor and goes back to sleep, but instead he leans forward and presses his lips against the pair he’d just been thumbing.

If Stiles is surprised, he’s too half asleep to show it, and after a few more gentle kisses, he scootches closer with a soft smile and returns the treatment enthusiastically, as if they’ve done this a thousand times. Though they haven’t , Derek decides a discussion about this new development can wait until the late morning.

It’s five in the morning when Derek drifts back to sleep, Stiles held tightly to his chest, blissfully warm and sated.

~ Stiles sleeping on top of Derek. Sleepy nuzzling and neck kisses follow. ~

My entry for the Sterek Reverse Bang 2017! Check out @godetiawrites​‘ story “Like the Red String of Fate” here on tumblr!

Excerpt: “From the age of twelve, Stiles had recurring dreams of a set of eyes. Well, it was a guy he was dreaming of, but in the morning, he could really only remember his eyes… ”

landseers  asked:

27 + whatever you're feelin the most

27. “I don’t give a damn.” “You give so many damns, they’re visible from space.”

NurseyDex Week Day 6 - Soft

I was inspired by those prompts lol. It’s softer than the first implies but oh well haha thanks baby! Also… has anyone realized yet that at the current time of the comics, the summer they’re about to go into is The Summer of Pokemon Go?! :D haha anyway, I listened to this while writing this to set the mood, so if anyone wants a soundtrack to this here ya go :)

“She’s got 585 CP,” Dex is saying excitedly into the phone, and Derek can practically hear the smile on the other man’s face. “She’s beautiful, I can’t believe I found her.”

“I’ve caught like 6 Ponyta already,” Derek says, barely containing his own smirk.

“Whatever,” Dex grumbles, and it’s almost enough to make Derek regret ruining his happy moment. “I don’t give a damn.”

Derek laughs. “You give so many damns they’ve visible from space.”

“Do not,” Dex says. “Besides, that screenshot you sent me showed like a hundred of these stops around your building, you can just sit your happy ass at home and collect the Pokemon. I actually have to leave my house? By car? To get to half of the ones in my town.”

“Not my fault you live in a tiny nothing town in a tiny nothing state,” Derek says smugly.

“Stop speaking nonsense about things you know nothing about, Nurse.”

Derek laughs.

The line goes quiet for a moment, the only sounds the clinking of dishes and the closing of cupboards from the other side. Derek snuggles deeper under the blankets.

He’s lying in bed, covered in three warm quilts, the cool AC on, and the only light the fairy ones tacked over his window.

He adjusts his hold on his phone, imagining Dex walking around the small kitchen in his parent’s home in Maine, making himself something to eat after his late-night Pokemon Go adventures.

Derek hears a door open down the hallway in his own home, and then footsteps in the hall. He waits for a knock but it doesn’t come, the footsteps carrying past his room and toward the main living space of their home.

He figures his dad is probably gonna make himself a midnight snack too, and he considers joining him for the briefest of moments, but doesn’t wanna end the call with Dex. Not… not yet.

“Your parents don’t care you’re making so much racket at 1 am?” Derek asks.

“Nah, they’re heavy sleepers,” Dex says.

Derek hums into the phone, pulling at a loose thread in his quilt. “My dad is such a light sleeper I think he’s walking the hall as we speak. Gonna come in here and tell me to keep it down.”

Dex laughs softly. “You’re practically whispering as it is.”

“I know,” Derek says, smiling.

“Well I… I hope he doesn’t.”

Dex’s voice has gone soft, gentle, low. It makes Derek’s chest warm from the inside out.

“Me neither,” Derek whispers.

He can hear Dex sigh deeply on the other end and suddenly Derek wishes so badly to be in that kitchen with him. Or to have Dex in this bed with him. To wrap around him under these quilts and hold him close.

They’ve been doing these midnight calls all summer, and with each one Derek finds himself falling a little for this man, and with each one he wonders if he’s not the only one.

Dex is just so… soft. At midnight. Quiet. Content.

Usually he’s lying in bed too and they talk about their days and they bitch about their summer work and how soon they’ll have to head back to the Haus for the pre-season SMH stuff.

But honestly, Derek is getting less and less upset about the prospect of being back at Samwell with each passing day.

Every time Dex speaks quietly into the phone, his voice raspy and sleepy, his words starting to slur together, Derek can’t wait to finally be in the same place as him. To hear Dex be sleepy and see how it affects him in person. To have that every single day and every single night.

Derek is gone on him, and he’d be a little more upset about it if he wasn’t so. sure. it was reciprocated.

Because Dex has been really sweet to him. Being kind and flirty and considerate and fond. God, Derek can tell when Dex’s voice takes on this particular quality, like when Derek is sleepy and feeling particularly silly and he says the most random things and Dex will respond in a way that makes Derek picture him with his head tilted sideways and this dumb smile on his face that Derek hasn’t really ever seen but he’s imagined it so much this summer.

He’s imagining it now. Dex standing in his kitchen, half-made pb&j sandwich sitting on the counter and Dex smiling sweetly down at where his phone sits on the counter next to the bread, his ear phones dangling from his ears.

“Hey Dex,” Derek says.

“Yeah?” Dex asks, and he sounds so much more quiet now than he did moments ago when he was excited about catching a Ponyta tonight.

Derek turns on his side, pressing his phone into the pillow with his face and staring at the city of Manhattan out his bedroom window. All the lights make him feel warm and fuzzy, and Dex’s presence on the other end of the line makes him feel safe and content, and Derek feels this longing in the depths of his soul.

“Can we do this?” Derek asks quietly, hoping he doesn’t sound as desperate as he feels. “You know - these midnight talks - can we make this a thing? When we’re moved in at the Haus and we’re sharing the room, can we have these midnight talks then too?”

“God, of course Nursey,” Dex says, breathing lightly into the phone and damn if Derek doesn’t hear that fondness in his voice there.

It’s deep and raw and that yearning in Derek’s body is physical and not going away and if Derek has got it all wrong here he’ll make a fool of himself but if he’s right about even part of this Dex is falling in love with him too and from the sounds of it it just might kill them both before they can even make it to the second week of August to get back to the Haus.

But Derek will take it, he’ll take dying every night being here alone in his bed with Dex on the phone if it means he gets to live even one night holding him tight when they’re in the same place again.

“Great,” Derek says, and his own voice is raspy now. “I can’t wait.”

“Me either,” Dex breathes, soft spoken and light and airy.

Derek stretches out in his bed and then pulls his quilts tighter around himself. He stares out at the city, listening to Dex continue to make his food on the phone and watching the lights twinkle in the distance, letting it lull him to peaceful sleep.

midnight snack pt. 1 (Derek Hale one shot)

“Shit!” you cursed loudly. It was the middle of the night and you were hopping up and down on one foot in Derek Hale’s kitchen. All you wanted was a midnight snack, but at this rate, you were going to wake up the whole town.

In your defense, you had managed to be stealthy so far, sneaking out of Derek’s guest room, tiptoeing down the stairs and across the loft with nothing but tiny, strategically placed nightlights to guide you. Maybe you got a little too excited in the final moments and didn’t see the protruding cabinet in your path, slamming your pinkie toe right into the corner. You limped to the counter and slumped against it dejectedly.

After your rage dissipated, you shuffled over to the fridge and pulled out some milk, rolling your eyes at Derek’s fat free selection. You made a mental note to go grocery shopping as you rifled through his dishes, spotting an appropriate cereal bowl trapped under several containers. You tried your best to quietly remove the ones on top, gingerly setting them aside.

The final obstacle was a rather large tupperware container tucked deviously between a ridge of the dish rack and the cereal bowl. You grabbed the sides of the container, attempting to separate it, but the movement caused tension between the surfaces and created a whiny creaking noise. You kept pulling to no avail, and the noise just got louder.

Finally, in one sweeping motion, you yanked the container from its position, but this knocked the bowl completely out of the dish rack and you squeezed your eyes shut as you heard a sharp CLANK! against the tile floor.

You peeked one eye open, and to your surprise, there were no beautifully bearded werewolves baring their teeth at you. You bent over to retrieve the bowl, reaching for the fallen object when all of a sudden, the lights came on. You froze.

“What. The hell. Are you doing?” you heard a familiar voice say. You shot up, coming face to face with a very sleepy and very distraught Derek.

(Part 2)

For @sterekweek2017 day 2, Scene Stealer!

Title:  Witch and Witness

Rating:  T

Warnings:  Major character death (not Derek or Stiles), contains Jennifer Blake/Derek Hale

Words:  1642

Summary:  Derek will always love his wife, but his feelings for his fellow Witness have been growing deeper.

An AU of post season 2 Sleepy Hollow, with Derek as Ichabod Crane and Stiles as Abbie Mills!

AO3 link

You Don’t Love Me Do You

The early morning sun broke through a crack in the bedroom curtains casting a thin shaft of bright light across the room gently illuminating the face of a deeply slumbering Derek. Stiles had been awake for a while, laid on his side watching Derek as he slept, following the steady rise and fall of his chest with each breath. His right hand had been resting on Derek’s chest when he woke up and he hadn’t felt any need to move it. The wolf’s heart beat slow and rhythmical yet strong against the palm of his hand. Everything about Derek was calm except for his face, even in deep sleep his face retained a certain stern and serious quality to it that made Stiles smile.

Stiles traced his middle finger softly over Derek’s chest weaving through the dark hairs twisting them around  his finger while trying his best not to wake him. He stopped twiddling Derek’s chest hair and rolled over to his own side of the bed sighing audibly as he did. Knotting his fingers behind his head his lay there trying to stop himself from thinking about what he knew would ultimately worm its way in to his mind. But trying not to think about something only makes you think about it more and it wasn’t long before it was infecting his mind again. He grabbed handfuls of hair and squeezed tightly, screwing his eyes shut, trying to force the though away from him. I shouldn’t be thinking this, he’d been telling himself for weeks he had no reason to worry about it. And yet, here he was again on a perfect California summer morning letting his doubts poison his mind.

“What’s wrong?” Derek sleepy voice sounded cracked and dry as he spoke. Stiles jumped a little thinking Derek had been sound asleep.

“Nothing.” Stiles tried to sound casual, failed miserably.

“Stiles.” Derek could convey a thousand different thoughts and emotions simply by the way he said his name. And right now he was saying he knew something was wrong. Just don’t turn and look at me Stiles thought to himself, I can try and lie and stay calm just as long you’re not looking at me. Stiles opened his eyes and glanced across straight into Derek’s examining eyes. Oh shit! He thought to himself.

“I’m fine honestly.” Stiles half smiled to try to put Derek at ease.

“I know you’re not fine.”

“How can you kn-” Stiles didn’t finish his sentence. “You know the whole werewolf chemosignals thing is unfair. I’m sick of everyone I know knowing how I feel better than I do.” Stiles didn’t mean it to come out quite as harshly as it did, or maybe he did, he wasn’t really sure. He did know that he wasn’t angry at Derek though and immediately regretted how he’d sounded. Derek watched him in silence for a moment.

“I didn’t need to read you to know something’s off. Something’s been bothering you for a while and it been getting worse. I had hoped you’d tell me what it is. Aren’t you happy?” Derek asked, his eyes searched Stiles face for any reaction. Stiles looked at him not really knowing how to put his feelings into words.

“It’s not that I’m not happy. I just… I don’t know…” Stiles voice faltered as the left his thought half finished. Derek didn’t push him to continue, he could see Stiles was struggling with something and didn’t want to put words in to his mouth,. But it wasn’t just that, he was terrified of what Stiles might say next. He’d felt something wasn’t right between them, it started a couple of weeks ago. He’d brushed it off as him over reacting to something Stiles had said but over the past few days the feeling had intensified to the point that he couldn’t let it go any longer. What ever it was was tearing at Stiles and Derek didn’t need his heightened wolf senses to know something was wrong. And he knew what it was, he’d been trying to convince himself that everything would be okay but right there in that moment he knew it was over. Stiles just wasn’t in love with him the way he was in love with Stiles. He didn’t want to face this moment, had been avoiding it as much as he could. Asking the question a minute ago had felt more like a involuntary action than a need to truly know the answer. So here they were, there was no point dragging it out any longer than it needed to be. That’s how people ended up getting really hurt. Derek’s heart physically ached and his stomach felt hollow at the thought of what he was about to say.

“You don’t love me do you.” The words sounded flat and harsh, each one felt like a wound. Derek felt like he was drowning, a crushing pressure constricting his breathing, it was all he could do to just not completely break down right there and then.

“What?!” Stiles snapped up straight in bed. “Is that what you think?” He was in shock, what had he done? As he turned to look at Derek he saw a tear running down the Sourwolfs face.

“Oh God, no Derek. How? What? Jesus Christ yes, of course I love you. What? Why?” Stiles words fell out of him in a rush without him having any real control and without making much sense but from all of that all Derek heard was ‘of course I love you’ The crushing weight all of a sudden had been lifted from his chest and a sense a joy and relief flooded through him. He could breathe again. Stiles pushed himself across the bed and straddled Derek’s waist. He grabbed his face in both hands, using a thumb to gently wipe away the tear. It proved a waste of time as it was quickly replace by another happier one.

“Derek, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean for you to think… why would you think I don’t love you?”

“Something’s been wrong for a while, you wouldn’t talk about it. I don’t know. I’m not used to having good things in my life. I guess part of me has been waiting for it to end. Like I’m not supposed to be this happy, so it won’t last.” Derek wiped his eyes with the heels of his hands. “I feel stupid now.” Stiles stifled a laugh.

“You mean you really are happy?” Stiles asked him.

“I don’t think I’d ever been happy before I met you. I’ve been living in a dream world these last few weeks with you. It’s been perfect.” Stiles leaned forward and kissed Derek, the bitter taste of tears barely ever registered with him. Derek’s arms wrapped around Stiles and dragged him tightly to him, rolling him over as they kissed. Derek ran a hand through Stiles scruffy bedhair as they stared into each others eyes.

“What is it that’s been bothering you?” Derek asked him. Stiles didn’t want to answer, the whole thing was irrelevant now anyway. But Derek had opened himself up so Stiles felt he needed to as well, after all that had been the root cause of it all.

“I didn’t think you were happy with me. I felt more and more like I was holding you back or something. You can do so much better than me. I mean, you’re hot as fuck, you have this whole broody alpha male thing working for you and on top of that you’re a freaking werewolf, you have your own pack and you do all this cool supernatural stuff and I’m… natural. I’m just this skinny kid, there’s nothing particularly special about me, I just didn’t see why you would want me. I guess I just thought it was too good to last too.” Derek looked a little hurt hearing Stiles talk about himself.

“There’s a lot about you that’s special. I should’ve told you before now. I’m not great at this whole communication thing. Everytime I’ve wanted to tell you how I feel about you it’s sounds stupid in my head so I don’t say it. I always thought you just knew anyway, that I didn’t need to tell you. Stiles, I’ve never known anyone who’s meant as much to me as you do, who makes me feel like you do. Just being around you makes me happy. I feel like everyday I find something new about you that makes me love you more.”


“Yes really.”

“It doesn’t matter that I’m just a normal human?”

“Stiles, you are a long long way from normal.” Derek laughed. Stiles tried to look indignant but eventually he broke out in to a smile.

“I love you because you have a wonderful heart.” Derek paused almost like he was weighing something up in his mind. “And you have a great dick. Actually it’s mostly that. I’d say I love you ninety eight percent because of that and the rest because of your wonderful heart.”

“This dick?” Stiles asked with a cheeky smirk as Derek felt something stiffen against his thigh.

“Oh yeah, that’s the one right there.” Derek said reaching a hand below the covers and kissing Stiles deeply as all the emotions of the morning completely took them over.