This one... -sigh- ...I surprised myself with this one. It's a lot shorter than the others and it's kind of graphic and dark, but I'm really proud of it.
Thankyouthankyouthankyou to SabaChan607, who suggested the song. This was the funnest one to write!
Disclaimer: Anything and anybody you recognize is not mine. The song belongs to Florence + The Machine, and it's fabulous and perfect for Sterek... so you should go look it up.
Howl - Florence + The Machine
It was just something nameless about Stiles that made a tremor run through Derek's body. Made his wolf growl, writhe restlessly inside his chest, tear at his ribcage in vicious desire to be let free.
Not being with the kid made his skin crawl, his teeth ache, his mind concoct obscene images that only forced his hand down the front of his jeans.
Needless to say, Derek would much rather have Stiles by his side at all times.
He was just so fragile. That terrible, blood-thirsty creature inside Derek made him want to destroy everything pure about him. He wanted his teeth buried deep into the boy's neck. He wanted to dig into his chest and nip affectionately at his beating heart, touch and worship and annihilate everything that kept the boy innocent.
Derek wanted to burrow underneath Stiles' skin and stay there for the rest of his life.
He wanted to hunt. He needed to hunt down whatever hesitation there was that held Stiles from him, and rip it apart. Break him. He wanted to take everything away from Stiles, and give him everything at the same time.
And every time Stiles showed up on his burnt and deteriorating doorstep, Derek would move aside with hungry eyes to let him in. He couldn't say no. He would never say no, because Stiles was a fascination, a delicate porcelain doll that he couldn't decide what to do with. His human side wanted to place the boy on a high shelf, stare up at him in awe and pray that he'd never fall off his pedestal. His wolf side, on the other hand, wanted to smash the doll against the floor, toss him onto the bed and watch his porcelain crack and fall apart, scream Derek's name until he couldn't take it anymore.
Derek never could deny his wolf, and Stiles always received exactly what he needed.
Every night when Stiles fell asleep in his arms, Derek sincerely hoped that he'd feel bad in the morning about not putting the boy up on that high, safe shelf. And every morning when Stiles woke up in his arms, looked up at him with those big brown eyes, Derek could only pat his inner wolf while it hummed contently inside his chest.
Well there you go. Funny how possessive!Derek looks a lot like psycho!Derek... ;)
R/R?