The Hell You Came From [Derek/FemStiles]

Blood-Bag

When the wolf follows the woman back to her bedroom, the only reason he–keeps behaving himself–doesn’t hop up onto her bed with her (like he really wants to) is because she doesn’t know he’s not just a wolf. (He feels a little creepy for even having the thought of wanting.)

The woman, however–this Stiles...well, she clearly has other plans.

Stiles grabs the TV controller and hops up onto her bed. She makes herself comfortable, busies herself with finding the comedy channel and chuckles to herself when she sees that Dave Chappelle is on. She tosses the controller down beside her and looks up to see the wolf trotting over to the blankets.

She watches him then, doing that little spinning thing that dogs do before they lay down. She almost smiles to herself, until she remembers just why they do this...

He’s looking for the best position he can readily attack, if he needs to.

It’s a self preservation tactic...

Stiles watches him plop down finally, curled up tightly, tail and limbs tucked under his body and his face is pointed at her bedroom door.

Stiles slips off of her bed, walks over to close and lock her bedroom door. She turns to him with a light grin as she asks, “Better?”

The wolf keeps his lips tightly taught–only because he’s fighting not to smile. Obviously, he doesn’t want her to suspect him (not yet, anyway), and not to mention the fact that a wolf’s grin is rather scary (at least compared to most humans.)

Stiles huffs out a laugh; laughs at herself as she shakes her head at her ridiculousness. “I know you can’t understand me, but...” She slowly walks over and kneels down beside him. She looks him in the eyes as he simply stares back up at her, green eyes unblinking and solely focused on her. She can still see an intelligence behind those ever curiously watching eyes.

Stiles reaches out to stroke him softly along his curled back. “You really are safe here.” She grins proudly as she tells him, “This town is, like, a haven for all beings. And it’s all thanks to Talia Hale. It’s why I decided to move back here. Scott, the guy you met and growled at–“ She chuckles, shoots the wolf a cheeky smirk, ”–he and his mother are both special, like the Hale Family.”

Stiles is mostly just thinking out loud as she continues to pet the wolf. “I found them four years ago. They were on the run from hunters. And I know I’m not Emissary material, like my mother was, but I just felt like I had to help them. I told them that I knew a safe place for them to live, so, I brought them here.”

Stiles warily pulls her hand away when the wolf slowly raises his head. His expression doesn’t change, but his stare is even more piercing than before. Stiles gulps silently. “What’s wrong, boy?” She asks, voice barely above a timid whisper.

The wolf has never fought so hard not to shift. Not even on the worst full moon he’s ever had.

He knew she looked familiar.

She’s Claudia’s daughter... The girl with the funny name..

(Claudia was his mother’s Emissary before Deacon.)

“If you’re still hungry–“ Stiles clears her throat (as if trying to clear away that nervous wobble in her voice), ”–I’m sure I can find you something el–oh...”

Stiles clamps her mouth shut when the wolf shifts just close enough to rest his chin over her left knee. “You just want a little love, too, huh?” She giggles, grins, happily uses both hands to scratch under both his ears.

The wolf fights back a low groan at the wonderful sensations.

And she may say those words with a light-hearted tilt, but the wolf feels the pang in his own chest. He sees that loneliness he felt before, and suddenly, he never wants to leave her side.

It’s that simple. At least, for him it is.

But it’s not just his choice anymore–not from the moment he felt a real connection to her (rather than just using her as a good hiding spot, like his initial plan was.)

Her sweet tone pulls him from his dark tainted mind–“If you want cuddles, Mister Wolf, you’re gonna have to follow me to bed...”

Stiles blinks, wrinkles her nose, then, finally laughs at how that sentence might sound to...well, people who aren’t weird, like she is.

Stiles pushes herself back up onto her feet and walks back over to her bed to get comfortable and warm again. “Wait...do wolves shed a lot?” She shoots him a teasing glare before breaking out into a bright grin, pulling back her own blankets and patting the empty spot beside her.

The wolf slowly sits up, but doesn’t make any other movements, simply stares at her again.

Stiles pouts. “No?”

The wolf blinks, while every other muscle in his body is fighting to stay completely still. He may be a wolf, but he’s still–

“You’re such a gentleman.”

(See? He can be one.)

The wolf wags his tail, just once; just for a split second, letting himself lose focus as the sound of her praises go straight to his insecure head...and then, further down, straight to his fur-cased cock.

(And to think...that monster’s praising always just made him feel nothing other than sick to his stomach–and rotten to the core of his soul...)

(But now, in one moment, this beautiful creature in front of him undoes all the years of trauma he associates with any single word of praise...)

The wolf stares at her, longingly. Thankfully, to her, he only looks to be stubborn as she rolls her eyes (in a teasing way, not really with annoyance or disappointment–maybe she secretly knows his secret yearning for her...) and pulls her blankets up before turning onto her side, her back facing away from him.

“Suit yourself.” Stiles says with a light chuckle in her voice.

The wolf takes a silent breath of relief before slowly making himself comfortable (as possible, if he wants to protect her) again in his same spot.

“Night, boy.” Stiles whispers.

As the wolf lets out a content sigh, his eyes almost closed, the woman turns to face him, lying on her side, her head hanging over her pillow to see him properly. The wolf stares up at her, knows she wants to speak as he watches that cute look of curiosity brewing in those bright whiskey coloured orbs. He simply waits, not like he can do much else. But he keeps his eyes on hers and keeps still to let her know he’s listening.

Stiles smiles softly. “I can’t exactly ask you for your name, but I can’t keep calling you ‘boy’ either...”

The wolf’s heart softly races as she stares back down at him like he’s the most precious thing in the world. When really, he knows it’s the other way around.

“How about... Max?” Stiles grins when the wolf tilts his head without lifting it. “After Mad Max, ‘cause that’s what you are for running in front of my Jeep...and ‘cause Mad Max is awesome. Witness me, blood-bag!!” She cheers through a whisper, pumping her first and silently snarling at him.

The wolf’s heart only races all the more.

“Max.” Stiles whispers softly as the wolf watches her eyes slowly drooping shut.

He stares at her for as long as he can stay awake.