meaning [scott mccall]

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Y/N was walking down the dimly lit streets, the strong scent of petrol lingering in the air. She usually went for a walk when she felt stressed or upset, and today was one of those days. 

Where she walked and when didn't really matter, all that she aimed to do was clear her mind. And this time, she was trying to get her head around her feelings for Scott Mccall. The kind hearted, puppy eyed boy had completely changed her outlook on relationships, and he was the only person who had ever made her feel like she could spend the rest of her life with him. 

 You could say that commitment was a great fear for Y/N. In fact, she was known by her friends as 'the least likely to get married, or be in a relationship for longer than a week', and this fact was fairly set in stone until Scott came into her life. 

She didn't have any inkling of doubt about her feelings for him, not at all, but she was scared. Deep down, underneath the walls she put up around her, she feared rejection and she feared letting someone in, because she just couldn't open her heart and have it broken. It wasn't that she wanted to not love Scott, she just didn't know how to love him. 

Y/N's thoughts were quickly interrupted as a familiarly blue jeep pulled up on the side of the road, causing her to jump. She let out a mostly relieved sigh as Stiles rolled down the window and poked his head out, grinning cheesily. 

"Hey, Y/N-" He started. "If you're asking me to come watch Scott get his tattoo again, no's my answer. You both know I hate blood." She told her friend, folding her arms. 

Stiles closed his eyes, groaning dramatically. "Aw come on, Scott really wants the support, y'know? He needs you there." He told her, gesturing theatrically.

 The boy in question poked his head out of the window next to Stiles, showing off his bandaged arm. "Hey Y/N! I got the tattoo." He exclaimed happily, blissfully unaware of his best friend's eye roll. "Thank you, so much for that."

 Y/N let out a light laugh, grinning at Scott's unabashed excitement. Stiles gestured for her to get in, smirking. "You guys are too cute." 

Y/N climbed into the vehicle, piling into the backseat. Scott turned to face her from the passenger's seat, a wide smile still on his face. After a few seconds of glances and silence, she rolled her eyes. "Well come on then!" She exclaimed.

 Scott furrowed his eyebrows, confused. "Oh, uh.." She raised an eyebrow and began to drag him onto the backseat, Titanic style. They both laughed as he awkwardly sat down next to her. "I think you were better off not coming, Y/N." He told her, smiling. "Yeah, I fainted." Stiles added, starting up the jeep. 

She touched the bandage wrapped around his arm, feeling the strong muscle underneath. "Does it hurt?" Scott shrugged. "Only a little bit." They shared a look between them, her eyes locked onto his warm brown ones. The corners of his mouth turned up, his chocolaty-brown orbs for eyes lighting up. 

They were literally inches away from their lips meeting, and in that moment Y/N had never wanted anything more. Stiles turned his head to look at them for a second, smiling and retracting his gaze back to the road as he felt it was a private moment between Scott and Y/N. 

Scott screwed his face up in pain, wincing. "What's wrong?" She asked him, concerned. He frowned at the bandage. "I don't think it's supposed to feel like this." He yelped in pain, shaking his head. "Nope, definitely isn't supposed to hurt this much." Y/N groaned in disgust as he began to tear off the bandage, muffling a yell of pain. 

"Oh, Scott.. Scott!" She muttered, close to gagging. Scott returned his gaze to his now bare arm, his mouth a perfect 'o' as the tattoo faded quickly. Within a matter of seconds, the ink had completely disappeared and his expression was pained. "Aw, no!" The pair of them stared at his arm, eyes wide. 

"Oh thank god, I hated it." Came Stiles's voice from the driver's seat. Scott looked at him as if he'd been betrayed. "Sorry." 

Y/N squeezed his hand comfortingly, reveling in his familiar warmth. "Wanna tell me what the tattoo was?" She asked the now non-existent-tattoo-mourning Scott. He sighed. "It was two bands.." She looked at him questioningly. "What- what did it mean?" She asked, smiling when Scott held her hand tightly. 

"It was just supposed to be there, you know? Leave a mark, symbolize a part of my life." He told her, looking into her eyes and not breaking his gaze. "So like, something durable, something everlasting?" She asked him slowly, her heart pounding out of her chest. 

"Yeah, that. Exactly that, actually." He grinned, his smile melting her heart. Y/N took a deep breath, slowly opening her eyes again. "I think.." She stopped to rethink her words. "That's how I feel about you." 

Silence. No words, nothing. The tension in the air was so thick you could cut it with a knife. "R-really?" Scott exclaimed, breathing out slowly. Y/N nodded, her expression sincere. She awaited what was about to come with baited breath, so nervous she almost wanted to stop the jeep and get out. 

"I love you, too." He replied, not waiting a moment longer to kiss her. Y/N felt herself melt into the kiss, the feeling of it more incredible than she could have ever imagined. He tasted like sugar and everything sweet, his lips velvety and soft. 

She pulled him closer, running her hands through his soft hair. "Holy freaking god you two, get a room." Stiles exclaimed, his words meant with affection. Y/N gave him the middle finger, encouraging a laugh from Scott in between kisses. "You stole that from a movie," Stiles pointed out, rolling his eyes for the twentieth time that night. 

When the two of them broke apart to catch their breath, Scott cupped her cheek with his hand, smiling. "I am so glad Stiles pulled the jeep over." He told her, grinning even wider. Y/N had never felt happier.

"You're welcome, Scotty Boy."


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