Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

-Sunday, July 1^st-

Fire. The only thing you can feel. The way it casts shadows around when it flickers against the walls, how it rips screams from the bravest of men, the smell of burning flesh.

"Hello?!"

The heat in the air is quite literally stealing your breath, the shadows dance in victory as everything burns. Everything the shadows touch blisters and turns to ash around you. It's like the flames are alive.

More wailing. Enraged howling. Mournful screaming.

A child begging.

"Let me help you! Please! Where are you?!"

"Help us please!"

"We can't get out!"

"We're burning! You have to help us!"

-0-

"Erica, where are the sealable glass jars?" Stiles hollers into the front of the shop. "I have to have Mrs. Lancaster's ointment ready by 2 and it's already 1!" He wouldn't be worried but since opening the apothecary, he has kind of been a bit obsessive about deadlines. Even though it's Sunday and they're supposed to be closed on Sundays.

Fucking pushy-ass clients, I love them. He thinks fondly, grinning.

This is also one of the city council member's wives. Can't. Fuck. Up. Jackson suggested she come here to help heal some kitchen burns on her forearms with a lavender and olive ointment.

The grand opening of the apothecary was nothing short of amazing. The entire pack came out to support Stiles and brought most of their own business clientele with them. Stiles' pride definitely soared to new heights standing among his pack members, hanging off the arm of his mate who just happened to clean up and turn every head in the place while wearing a sleek, gray, smart suit. Didn't matter who stared, his eyes were on Stiles all night. 'So, nanner.'

Stiles goes to grab the flat of sealable glass jars from where he heard Erica mumble their location when he hears the bell over the door chime.

"Can I help you?" Erica asks the patron, sounding confused, since he's pretty sure the door was locked and the sign says CLOSED.

He feels a sharp tug on his pack bond to her. He drops the lavender buds and beeswax onto the steel counter and makes his way to the front of the store to check on his beta. When he steps through the opening into the front of the shop the first thing he notices is Erica's posture. She's all but bristling at the new customer. That's the only word for it.

"The man I must be looking for," tall, dark and creepy says, with a small hint of an accent, offering his hand. He looks like he'd like to offer more than that, the way he's sizing Stiles up.

Stiles ignores the offered hand and instead tries to get a reading on the guys aura. That's odd. There isn't an aura. Witch, maybe?

"Can we help you with something… Mr…." Stiles questions, aiming for polite but landing on awkward.

"Ah. How rude of me. My name is Hayden Złośliwy. My family and I just relocated back to the area. I was in the neighborhood and took notice of your little… shop." He says with an unimpressed air. Stiles is trying to push some small amounts of calm and tranquility through the bond to Erica to stop her from wolfing out in front of the stranger. He can't quite pinpoint what it is exactly that has her so unwound by the man but he trusts her instincts.

Stiles thinks over the name, it's Polish in origin, but the meaning escapes him currently. "I'm Stiles, I own the place. Welcome to Beacon Hills." He offers icily in the hope that the stranger will take the hint and get the fuck out of his store because the longer he looks at the man, the closer to losing his shit he is, and he doesn't know why.

"That isn't your birth name," Hayden says with a smirk as Erica's eyes grow beta gold and lets out a threatening growl that makes Stiles' arms break out in goosebumps.

'Welp. The wolves are outta the bag now.'

Not surprisingly, he doesn't even look impressed.

"So this is how you treat potential customers here, is it?" Hayden grins, showing a mouth full of pearly white, razor tipped teeth. "Keep your bitch on a leash. The rest of my family isn't nearly as peaceable as I am, emissary." His eyes shift black entirely when he says the word, as if it personally offends him. Stiles really doesn't like how he practically spits the words at them, nor the implications behind it. At. All.

Feeling threatened in his own territory makes Stiles' eyes glow with ferocious intent. "Watch how you speak in my territory, jędza. You aren't welcome here. I suggest you leave, before I make you."

Hayden just looks annoyed, like he doesn't know he's playing with fire. "I came here simply to introduce myself, but I see you mingle with lesser beasts." Hayden's black gaze switches from Stiles' glowing, golden eyes to the side of his neck where Derek's mating bite was purposefully put, something to let other sup's know who he belongs to, who Derek belongs to as well. He turns and walks back the way he came. "I can show myself out." The door slamming shut matches the exhale of breath Stiles and Erica hadn't realized they were holding.

"Flip the goddamn sign. We're closing early today. I'll call Mrs. Lancaster later and tell her you'll deliver her order to her tomorrow instead. Let's go home."

Erica is slightly shaken by Hayden's leftover scent. "He reeked of blood, Stiles. I can still smell it. I couldn't figure out what he was, other than a serial killer. I've never smelled anything like him before, he'd smelled rotten." She leans into Stiles' shoulder seeking comfort and reassurance as they lock up and head to his Jeep.

"So he smelled like blood, his eyes shifted black, and he had shark teeth. He sounds like a character from that movie about the town in Alaska that was attacked by really fucking scary vampires," Scott concludes for the room at large. "Stiles, you know the one I'm talking about."

I totally know what you're talking about and yes that is an accurate description, but you sir, are a fucking dopey faced idiot and I'm not going to even acknowledge that assumption with a response.

Malia interjects, "Vampires don't have a scent so they wouldn't smell like blood, Scotty. We've fought the one with the bloodlust, remember? Not to mention they don't hunt in families. They're singular hunters." Aiden nods in agreement with his mate.

"Not just blood, Erica said he smelled rotten. Like corpses." Isaac interjects.

"Then what the fuck just moved here then? Stilinski, weren't you supposed to be warding the whole town?" Jackson questions.

"Well we did, but then had to stop halfway through because Malia's face started melting, or don't you remember?" Stiles snipes back. He's still feeling a bit bristly since the run in with Hayden earlier, not that Derek's back rub isn't helping him unwind. God is it ever.

"I went back and finished the wards the next day myself. Speaking of… Lydia, have you figured out that wolfsbane serum yet?"

"I'm waiting on Peter and Nadia to get back from Atlanta before we do it," the banshee states while she sits back against her mates legs, looking pale and exhausted. Been a long day for everyone I guess.

Derek stills mid stroke, "Did he say how many there were with him?"

It's Erica's turn to offer information, "He didn't say how many there were. Just that he and his family moved here. He was creepy as fuck, and very sure of himself. It was like he thought he was entitled to something, the way he was looking at Stiles."

Stiles felt Derek slide his hands down to his hips and relished in the possessive behavior. "We need to check every bestiary we have available. Allison, call your father and ask if he's heard anything from his hunter channels. I'll talk to Peter. They're not staying here unless they know the laws of our territory," Derek growls out. He growled in approval as everyone got up and went about the night. Danny and Ethan made their way to the kitchen to start dinner, Allison and Scott went outside to call Chris while the rest of the pack went to patrol and see if they could pick up any scents in the preserve. I love it when he's a smart alpha.

"Want to get a shower with me?" Stiles whisper while running his palm along Derek's inner thigh. He smiled when Derek's eyes bled through and he felt a rumble against his chest as Derek snatched a giggling Stiles up and throws him over his shoulder and carries him upstairs to Stiles' room.

Derek throws Stiles across the bed and climbs up to straddle Stiles stomach. Stiles licks his lips and stares at Derek's mouth. "Pull your dick out, alpha," Stiles goads, pulling Derek's thumb into his mouth. Derek's eyes shift and he all but shreds their clothes while Stiles smiles.

Derek slides back up Stiles body until his dick is just in front on Stiles lips and he just stares through crimson vision as Stiles licks a stripe up the base of his cock. "Your mouth is so pretty around my cock, those perfect lips were made for me. My big dick was made to stretch your lips Stiles." He moans and throws his head back as Stiles smirks around the head of his uncut cock and thin swallows him down to the root. "God, baby you're so perfect, so good for me."

Stiles loves nothing more than to suck and swallow these delicious noises right out of Derek and has quickly figured out what makes the older man squirm and beg, he always a quick learner. Swipes of his tongue across the slit, humming while Derek rests in his throat, cradling his heavy balls while he twirls his tongue around the hood, staring up at Derek with big doe eyes while he's quickly losing control. It all makes Stiles ache that this beautiful man belongs to him. He pulls his swollen lips off of the breathless alpha.

"I need you in me, like five minutes ago. I want you to show me who I belong to."

Derek rumbles in his chest and flips Stiles over on to his stomach with supernatural speed and strength. He holds Stiles' hands behind his back and locks his hands with his larger, more calloused ones. Derek's eyes roll back and he can't help the purr that escapes him because of how potent Stiles' natural scent is this close. Spice and weather and magic. He pushes his face, beard first, directly in between Stiles pale, mole dusted cheeks just to hear the younger man shout.

"Please Derek, please. I ca-ohh," Stiles bleats and whines as Derek licks a wet stripe across his hole. Stiles keens as he does this repeatedly as Stiles starts to leak precome onto the sheets below his cock. Derek leans back and sniffs the air and grins evilly when he smells Stiles' mix of adoration, lust and precome, he looks down at the flushed back of his mate and now he wants his ass to match the red rutty color of the rest of him. He gives Stiles' pert ass a firm slap and rumbles when he hears Stiles' appreciative moan as he watches blood rush to the surface of his backside. He rubs a hand across the visible, red handprint appreciatively.

He flips Stiles over so he can see his face and when he sees Stiles 'O' shaped lips, he can't help but want to feel the shape with two of his fingers. Stiles' sucks down on his fingers like he's trying to win a medal, and, God, could he. He licks and sucks on Derek's thick fingers until they're dripping with his spit.

Derek's eyes at this point haven't shifted back and Stiles loves every bit of it as he pushes Derek further out of control. He watches as Derek leans down and swallows his cock in one easy go and nearly jolts off the bed when he feels more than hears the pleased growl around his hard cock. He's moaning and whining when he feels Derek's spit slick fingers push inside and instantly caress his prostate. His eyes roll back and Derek keeps on sucking and stroking for what feels like hours and it's all suddenly too much for Stiles.

He grabs onto Derek's hair and begs him, tells him he's so close, maybe he just cries because that's how amazing it feels, and then Derek's sucking Stiles' cum right out of him. Straight from the source. Stiles isn't completely incapacitated though, oh no. He jumps into Derek's lap to feel that gloriously hard cock pressed against his entrance and he wants to taste himself in his alpha's mouth. He kisses Derek with an unadulterated hunger and a possessiveness to match.

He moans when he licks into Derek's mouth and finds that the alpha hasn't swallowed his cum but is savoring it, and then shares it with Stiles. Derek's so close to wolfing out and Stiles just wants to push just that much more until he does. He loves dancing around the edge of the fire, so close to burning up with the man that he loves until he is, until they're burning together, no lines or separations.

He pushes Derek onto his back and reaches into the night stand for a bottle of lube, warms it in his fingers and slicks his mates cock up. His hole is still leaking Derek's spit and his own saliva. He keeps his eyes locked with his alpha's crimson gaze while he lines himself up and slides slowly down until he feels wrung out too thin, sat completely down to the base of Derek's fat cock, listening to the growls and whimpers of his alpha below him.

Stiles feel so full, so complete. It startles him into a stilled silence, almost unbearably at peace with everything until Derek whimpers, like he's afraid he had done something wrong. Stiles looks back into hazel eyes and smiles, a full smile, bringing out the dimples that hide in the corners of his kiss swollen mouth. He knows his cheeks are flushed and knows that he's covered in a thin sheen of sweat. He also knows without a doubt that he looks completely debauched.

He grins wickedly and works on a pace that is painstakingly slow and deliberate. Stiles has been working on his core and thigh endurance for this very reason. He wants to ride and tease Derek into sexual oblivion.

He grips Derek's sides with his thighs and slides up, all the way up to the head of his mates beautiful, uncut cock. Then he flexes his hole, massaging the tip of his mates cock, and then slides back down. All while listening to the desperate noises the alpha makes below him, staring at the look of pleasure that he brought. I did that, I put that flawless look on his beautiful face. When he's growing close to his second orgasm and his thighs start to tire, Derek knows the tell-tale signs, he stills.

"You're so beautiful, Stiles," Derek praises. "You're so perfect. Such a good mate, knowing exactly what I need and what to do to drive my wolf fucking crazy, you make it so fucking hard to control myself. My wolf wants to come out and mark you up to let everyone know who it belongs to, who I belong to. Wants you to mark me too. Wants your scent all over me. I want your scent all over me."

Hearing Derek praise him so much makes a wave of love and comfort and possessiveness run through him and through the mate bond, that's practically feeding them each other's moods, that if he were a wolf, he'd be out for blood. Which is apparently a kink now. Yay! Super healing!

"Pop your claws, baby." Stiles whispers from his position against Derek's lifted knees, where he's currently flexing his sphincter around his mate's thick cock.

Both of them standing at a precipice, waiting for the dam to break, trying to hold onto the last bit of control they have and making it last as long as possible.

Derek has a curious look but does as instructed and gasps when Stiles takes his palm and uses one of Derek's clawed fingers to slice across his palm. Stiles is pretty sure Derek's cock just got harder and bigger in his ass as he sees him scent the air and smell Stiles' blood. Stiles drops his blood around Derek's neck and follows the trail leaving a bloody, spit soaked mess with his tongue.

Derek licks hungrily between Stiles' blood soaked lips, devouring the bare essence of him, wanting to keep it there forever. He starts fucking up into the younger man with gusto then. He swipes a claw across his own hand and wills himself not to heal. He smears the blood across the pale expanse of Stiles' throat just to see the beautiful contrast. Seeing his bloody handprint around Stiles' beautiful neck is what does it for him apparently. He flips them over onto Stiles' back so his legs can wrap around Derek's waist and he can pound the boy relentlessly into the mattress; and pound him into the mattress he does. He has one hand behind Stiles' knee, and the other is his blood soaked hand wrapped around Stiles' throat while he stares down at the beautiful face below him, fucking these gorgeous noises out of him until he's sobbing with it, "I'm gonna c-," is all the boy gets out when his eyes roll back and he's cumming, untouched, across his tattooed abs. Derek keeps fucking through the tightened ring of muscle until he's soaking his mate's insides with his cum, filling him up.

He collapses on top of the body below him and Stiles just wraps his arms and legs around him like an octopus, breathing the scent of him in. When their breathing has calmed down and Derek has went soft inside him, he giggles. "Can we get a shower now? I'm pretty sure we missed dinner, and I'm fucking hungry. Plus, I'm covered in blood and sweat and come and spit. I love it, but the moment has passed. I fucking love you," he says stupidly, love drunk.

-0-

The large, floor length, black mirror goes dark as they watch the alpha kick the bathroom door shut. Hayden's eyes turn black and he grins like a shark as he turns to the large throne-like chairs seated before the large mirror, "Are you sure he won't be of use to us, Helena?"

Helena stares appraisingly at Hayden, her eyes slowly shift black, and with a razor tipped smile that contorts her beautiful features into something menacing, she tells her younger brother, "Bring him to me, but destroy the pack, slowly."