they're just so fucked up
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Sometimes, when they're close like they are now, Stiles wonders if Derek is seducing him. He wonders if the fingers rubbing calming circles into his thigh and the warm, salty breath against his neck are maneuvers to earn his trust. He wonders about Derek's plans, if—once he has Stiles fooled—Derek will rip his throat out.
The thoughts might seem paranoid, except that's exactly what Stiles did to Peter.
Bookmarked by bookwyrm7
15 May 2019
After that, Derek’s memories come rapid fire: Stiles ripping apart Derek’s pillow. Peter telling Stiles to choose. Derek raising the sword.
The undercurrent is strong and constant: Derek hates himself—he loves Stiles.
Years pass. Two or three? It’s a normal morning when Stiles wakes up and realizes he isn't afraid anymore. He hasn't been for a while. There are no more secrets from the people he cares about. If he gets paranoid, it’s because he can't remember the deadline for his next paper.
At his side, Derek’s cheek is mashed in a spot of sunlight. He must be dreaming because there’s a smile on his face even as a slight growl is humming through his teeth.
He isn't afraid. And he knows exactly why