Sabora: So, this story has been floating inside of my dark murky brain pond as well, like a crocodile watching the swarming bats diving down to sip the water; because, surely one will fail and begin to drown so my muse can feast. This just happened to be the bat that was left struggling to fly out of the water.
"What if, Derek and his pack WERE evil? What if, behind his charming smile and casual touches he was a monster hiding his teeth; waiting for the hunters to get out of the way so he could lay claim on what was truly his, the town of Beacon Hills and the one boy who drove him mad deep within his very bones. The boy who had his wolf howling in lust; the desire was barely hidden under his skin, bubbling at the surface."
Derek:
There were many people in Beacon Hills. Their bodies varying in shape and sizes, ugly to beautiful to the faces that one just lost in a crowd. But there was no one like Stile Stilinski. The name alone had a shudder slide down Derek's back and lust boil to the surface of his skin.
A fragile child who, despite his fear and humanity, ran with the wolves and risked his life time and time again not only for his best friend, but for Derek and his pack. The boy who struggled to hold Derek's own paralyzed body from drowning in chlorine and water (instead of letting him sink into the darkness were his probably belonged) for two hours to keep them afloat.
The boy who believed good to rest in Derek's heart as if his humanity hadn't been ripped out when Kate Argent burned his family alive. His uncle Peter wasn't the only one to become a monster because of the Argents; he just hid it better. He gave a flash of teeth as he peered into the bedroom of the boy's room.
Despite his attitude, despite his threats and violence this frail human boy had stood up to him, his uncle, to anyone that dared to think he was the weak link in Scott's little merry band of two. Except to Derek, Stiles wasn't apart of Scott's pack no matter what the two said otherwise.
Oh yes, Stiles reeked of Scott, of his best friend and sweat and school. He stunk of casual touches and careless hugs; a beautiful room with dirt swept under the rugs. But Derek made sure that Stiles smelled of HIS pack at all times no matter how faint the scent. It wasn't hard, not really. Stiles who lost his mother so young was affectionate by nature. Derek hid a smirk as he traced the closed window with his claws remembering the day Isaac bounded into his refurbished house practically swimming in the smell of Stiles.
The boy who everyone thought of as some innocent doll was actually sadistically smart. Pressing his nose to Isaac's shirt inhaling the scent of pack and Stiles he listened to his beta tell him how he manipulated Stiles to wear his scent.
Isaac had laughed at how easily Stiles gave him affection; all he had to do was ask, giving a bullshit excuse about his father. The boy who ran with the wolves had pulled him into his lap despite the fact that Isaac was taller than him and hugged him with all his worth allowing Isaac to rub his cheek on his pale neck. He stroked long nimble fingers through curly blonde hair as Isaac grinned rubbing his scent all over the young boy.
But, soon very soon he and his pack wouldn't have to hide their true selves. Once the Argents were gone they'd unleash the beast and lay the town of Beacon Hills in ruin. And Stiles well, Stiles just didn't know he belonged to Derek's pack yet.
Stiles who after getting over Lydia got himself someone, someone other than Derek and his pack to love; A male no less! He growled as he kept his distance from the mountain ash placed at the bedroom window that was to, more than likely, keep Scott away so that Stiles could sleep comfortably in his boyfriend's, Travis his mind sneered angrily, arms.
And everyone absolutely loved Travis. The mixed male was polite and courteous. He was 6'4 compact with muscles. He could fix jeeps, play football, and grill steak. The Sherriff was smitten with the older teen telling his son that if he let this one go he might have to marry Travis himself so he could keep grilling him steaks. The transfer student had only laughed pulling Stiles into his muscled arms. Blue eyes closing in pleasure as Derek's Stiles laid a kiss on his mouth. Scott had even given his approval, smiling at the fact that his friend was finally over Lydia. All the while, Derek and his pack watched from afar with burning hateful eyes.
His wolf growled under his skin wanting to rip the mixed male apart for daring to touch what belonged to not only him, but to his pack. His red eyes drifted over to Travis who even while sleeping held Stiles close to him, arm curled possessively around his waist. And sweet innocent doe-eyed Stiles lay curled up on his chest breathing in and out. He would have killed Travis if not for the fact that he still needed Scott and Stiles to help get rid of the Kanima and the Argents.
Travis. He growled then name out letting it filter through both is animal and human brain trying to decide which one hated him the most. He let out a snarl, fog escaping his mouth and rising to disappear into the midnight sky. He skittered down the roof and ran off into the forest heading home; he had plans to make. He was tired of waiting, his pack would have Stiles soon and he'd erase every trace of Travis off of him.
Sabora: M'k we'll see how this turns out. There is really going to be some fucked up stuff swimming along in this story so if you hate seeing Stiles – sad, abused, crying and hurt, this story is totally not for you. Aheheheh. Please don't kill me.