I Will Run You Like A Thread (Fem!Stiles x Derek)

Blood on the rise, it's following me

Anyone who knows Stiles merely has to take one look at her to know that graceful is something she is decidedly not. Yeah, she gets injured a lot, and the sad part is, like seventy-five percent isn't even for supernatural reasons. Most of it comes from being an unfortunate klutz with the frightening ability to trip over every impediment she stumbles (har har) across, and the unfortunate habit of running into every sharp corner of every possible piece of furniture in her vicinity with any number of vulnerable body parts. To be honest, she kind of lucked out with the whole fiance with super-saliva-healing power, because it's really cut down on her overall band-aid usage.

So, she's got a lot of experience with watching Derek both figuratively and literally lick her wounds. What was it her dad always said? One's an incident, two's a coincidence, and three's a pattern? Hell, it didn't even take three instances to figure it out...that Derek kinda had like, a thing about blood, specifically hers. Because she's definitely not stupid, and she's certainly not blind, and Derek might think he's being subtle about it, but he's not.

He's really, really not.

It's not like he's a vampire or anything. The way he laps at her skin, the way his tongue lingers like it's searching for the taste of her, it doesn't feel like that kind of hunger. She's know what kind it is, can tell by the way he always touching her afterward with shockingly reverent fingers, dancing over her split open flesh in a way that isn't just for comfort or to heal. The way he always shivers, so imperceptible she only notices it because it's like the air shifts around him, vibrates, just a little.

Yeah, she knows what kind of hunger that is.

So in retrospect, she really shouldn't have been so surprised.

..

As Lydia had felt the need to tell literally every single person she knew about the status of Stiles's reproductive system, the entire pack now knew that she was firmly on team IUD. And thankfully she, despite her bad luck in literally every other aspect of her eighteen years of existence, had been blessed with the immense fortune of being one of the lucky twenty percent to not get her period while using one. Whatever, karma totally owed her anyway. So of all the things of which to become complacent, her persistent lack of a monthly bleed was not something she gave much thought about.

Until right now, of course, because right now she's sprawled out on the floor of her bathroom alternating between puking her lungs out and wishing for death, because what feels like the shit-weasel from Dreamcatcher (a movie Derek had not appreciated being forced to watch, to which Stiles had replied disdainfully, what, you don't like art?) was trying to eat its way out of her poor, poor uterus. Because apparently being free of the tyranny of aunt flow for two years meant she came back with a motherfucking vengeance, like she was John fucking Wick and Stiles had murdered her dog.

God, she'd thought they were bad before the whole IUD thing. That was the whole reason why she'd gotten it in the first place. Ever since she was ten years old, getting her period had felt like getting run over by a fucking Mack truck. She'd get migraines for days, hardly able to open her eyes, and cramps so bad she'd feel like she was throwing her entire guts up. Sometimes she'd even pass out from any unfortunate combo of either pain, blood loss, or just plain exhaustion. So thank god, she thinks, for Mrs.McCall, because while her dad was many things, willing to talk in frank terms about her gynecological health was just not one of them. And honestly, Stiles was super, duper fine with that. And her dad, he always tried at least, in any other way he could. He'd bring her hot water bottles, painkillers, even chocolate, as cliche as that certainly was, and he never once complained when she'd needed him to buy her supplies. So as far as single dads went, he definitely did okay.