The trouble with dating a werefox
He may throw in some stumbles and check his pace to stay a bit behind at all times, but old habits die hard.Just because he's been allowed in, doesn't mean he can stay, and it most certainly doesn't mean he can get comfortable and lax. The woods flash by as they move further into the territory and Stiles fights the unease of the increasing strength of .Unless the guy is crazy on bloodlust and looking for an easy fight to maim some innocent werefox butt, there's always that, and with Stiles' luck…let's just say he's been there, done that."You're on your own," the Alpha states. You haven't stayed in any territory long enough for a scent to settle."Cringing, Stiles shrugs and makes a 'well what can you do' sort of grimace/gesture, hands flailing. I'm a wandering spirit, dude, road tripping like the best of them; searching for myself, self-discovery and adventure and all that!"It's fake cheer but it's such an integrated part of him now that the only people who would've known him enough from are long gone from his life. The last person who called him that was his father."I'm Stiles," he settles for.Never let it be said Stiles Stilinski doesn't tempt fate."But I'm on the right side of the border, aren't I? "The man remains unimpressed, flashing a set of gleaming fangs. "Shuffling, Stiles hunched in on himself, shrugging with a hopeful smile that showed no teeth. Give me a trial period; see how much I really don't want to fuck shit up, yeah? "The Alpha eyes him suspiciously, stalking nearer and sniffing the air around him.Stiles squirms in discomfort at being so close to an Alpha but keeps his gaze averted, reminding himself the wolf have stepped out of his territory to meet him now and it's, sort of, neutral grounds.Pairing: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski Category: Alternate Universe, Romance Other tags: werefox! You can find the full and explicit version of the fic on my AO3 (archive of our own dot org for those who doesn't know) account. To the wolves here, he probably smells more like prey than a threat but the less teeth and claws he possesses the better.Stiles, scent marking Tags for unedited version on my AO3: Knotting, dirty talk, bottom! Derek Warnings: Minor Character Death (off screen), English isn't my first language, Explicit sexual content in unedited version Notes: For Minor Character Death, see end notes, though it's rather obvious :, DAnyway, this fic has been on my computer for, like, months. I got tired of it lying around so excuse the questionable quality. There's also the fact that it's the polite thing to do, because it's not only a sign of some civilized manners (he's not an ), but also a much more effective way of communication than growls and yips and howls.
Forever haunted by supernatural assholes."All right, but be quick about it."Stiles wastes little time, stripping out of his jeans, shoes, shirts and hoodie with practiced ease and stuffing everything into the duffel before shifting.
He's learned the hard way when sarcasm and cheek stop being a form of defense and start being just another weapon of self-destruction.
The Alpha seems somewhat satisfied, and Stiles breathes a deliberate sigh of relief as the wolf backs down. "My name is Derek Hale, and this is Hale Pack territory. Come."Jerking into action, Stiles jumps over to the place he'd dumped his worn duffel bag, babbling with nerves.
Stiles doesn't like interest, doesn't like attention drawn to him, but he shrugs it off and plucks the duffel from the ground with his teeth and trots over to the Alpha warily.
Snorting, the wolf turns back to the direction he came from and takes off, only half-shifted to aid his speed, and Stiles follows easily.