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Deal With the Devil

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“You can’t kill me!”

For the first time since this whole disaster started Derek actually thinks that’s true. Maybe they can't, not without killing Stiles too. But he’s just not quite yet ready to give up. He’s not quite ready to give up on the shell of the human in front of him, the sarcastic teenager who manages to push all of his bottoms without even realizing it, the teenager who got Derek to fall in love for the first time on a very long time. No, Derek isn’t ready to give up on him and that’s what leads him to lock himself, all day and night long, in his loft with Stiles, mountain ash surrounding them so he’s not leaving and the others are not coming in either. He can admit it was his brightest idea. By sun down, Stiles was free from his restrains and kicked Derek’s ass spectacularly.

When Derek woke up, he was the one in restrains, wolfsbane laced restrains he would say, Stiles nowhere in sight. He was held in a standing position, his arms stretched out above him, clenched around wolfsbane ropes, his back tightly secured on something metal cold. He could with that, he told himself as pictures of his time with Kate Argent invaded his mind. But then he felt it. The electricity running through him and he shut his eyes tight and tried to remember it was really his Stiles doing this. It was the thing possessing him. The thing he would kill even if it was the last thing he did with his life.

“You really though some silly chains could held me down Derek?” he heard a harsher version of stiles' voice ask from behind him. “How silly of you.”

He felt current burning its way through his body again and growling, bared his fangs. The devilish laugh he heard hurt more than any voltage. And then the boy was standing next to him, a devilish smile to twin the laugh on his lips. He got closer and closer to Derek, until they were touching from hips to chest, their lips merely inches away. And then, he let his tongue out of his mouth, running it across Derek’s lips, tasting him.

“So sweet…” it breathed into the werewolf’s mouth and looking up at him excruciatingly familiar brown eyes. Derek determinably closed his eyes.

“It’s not Stiles, it’s not Stiles, it’s not Stiles…” he chanted inside his head as he felt lips descend from his lips, passing by his neck and settling on his chest, where he felt various open mouthed kisses against his skin.

One hand trailed down, undoing Derek’s jeans. Derek groaned, head bumping back into the wall behind him and the Nogitsune placed a filthy open mouthed kiss just above his waistline. Derek closed his eyes tighter.

“Look at me, Derek.” it sounded so much like the real Stiles, Derek almost did. Almost.

“Look at me, Derek!” the boy screamed and Derek had no option but to.

“You know, he’s screaming in here. Begging me not to.” He said as he lowered Derek’s jeans to a poll at his feet. “He’s aware of every fucking thing he’s doing and we would be crying out right now if it was him who was running the show.” He continued as his boxer briefs followed his jeans. “But he’s not.”

And then Stiles is lowering to his knees and has his lips around Derek and he loses his cool for a moment, growling louder than before, his eyes flashing bright red and his fangs on the show. Stiles' only response is to chuckle around his shaft and Derek has to actually bite his lower lip not to moan any louder than he does anyway.

“Real cute Derek.” He says, coming down around Derek one more time. Derek is almost positive he’s having one of those weird dreams that you’re not sure it’s a good dream or actually a nightmare. The warm tightness of Stiles mouth equal portions of heaven and hell.

For a moment all Derek can focus on is the mole on the back of Stiles’ neck, until it’s all too much and Derek comes in Stiles mouth. But the pleasure only lasts a few seconds before Derek is forced to look into the boy’s eyes, the Nogitsune’ eyes, and the look in his eyes slap him across the face.

“You’ve wanted this,” the Nogitsune whispers against Derek’s lips before kissing him. “He wanted this too,” the Demon continues and that damnn devilish smile is back. “He wanted you… But you… you needed him. Still do, actually, don’t you? When did you find out he was your mate?”

Derek feels ready to throw up even though he has never in his life but he’s sure this sick feeling inside must be what people feel before throwing up. He can’t believe this is actually happening. Can’t believe this is how Stiles finds out his Derek’s. Or he was supposed to be.

“Oh how I wish you could see his reaction. Its priceless.” The monster in front of him says.

No. It’s not a monster. It’s Stiles. Somewhere inside its still Stiles. Derek almost convinced himself of that but then it speaks again and proves him wrong.

“I want to propose a deal. I’ll let you see Stiles, maybe a couple times a week. How about that? Real Stiles with minimal to none interference from me. You can talk to him, be with the real Stiles. You can pretend you defeated me and the two lovebirds worked things out. I can even make him forget every bad thing he did under my control. How does that sound Derek?”

Derek allows himself to fantasize about it for a few seconds. A world where he and Stiles can be together, without the fucked up shit hunting both of them. Just the two of the, how they are supposed to be. He looks at the familiar, yet so strange at the same time, eyes and waits. He waits to hear what it wants in return.

“I’ll let you live your happily ever after. And you’ll convince his friends to stop trying. No more schemes to hunt me, to imprison me, to kill me, to separate me from my delicious vessel.”

Derek knows he shouldn’t listen to any of it. He knows, ok?! But it’s so damn tempting.

“Maybe we should hear what Stiles himself has to say.” He says as he closes his eyes for a few seconds.

When he opens them Derek has no choice but to believe it really is Stiles at the look of pure terror in his eyes.

“Derek I’m so sorry. Please don’t leave alone with it.” Stiles says, desperation and panic in his voice.

Derek knows he shouldn’t listen. Knows that most likely this isn’t even real Stiles. That that doesn’t stop the words to come out of his mouth.

“Deal.” He says as the devil comes back to the surface in front of him.

There’s no going back now.