Riarcca
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Summary
“I know you don’t trust me,” Derek grunted. When Stiles inhaled to retort, Derek caught his chin and pressed a finger against his lips, making the boy freeze in place, eyes impossibly wide. “Don’t argue. I expected it. Wolves don’t trust easily, too. I just wanted you to know that… I’m sorry. I was selfish and didn’t see what was in front of me. You don’t need to worry. I’ll take care of everything.”
It was a thought that grew in his mind, spread to his heart and took root there, reincorporating into a deep desire and a vital need. Derek will take care of him and his little pup, he’ll bring the hearts of his enemies and put them at the boy’s feet. He’ll court and he’ll conquer.
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Summary
In a house full of lost names and borrowed futures, one little boy made the same wish every year.
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Derek walks in on Stiles in the loft doing something he never suspected.
Singing and dancing so dirty that Derek can't keep his hands to himself any longer.
He MUST claim what's his.
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Stiles is a touch-er.
Sprawled all over Scott in his sleep, plastered against Erica and Boyd for movie nights, reaching out to fix Lydia’s lipstick or Isaac’s curls with no irritation.
Except for one, glaring exception.
They’ve touched: hands clenched into fists, shoves into shoulders.
But they don’t get touch-y.
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Derek Hale looked terrifying. With his broad frame and muscles, with his wild black hair and thick beard, with his eyes the color of blood and fangs of a killer. Despite his kindness and his apparent attraction to Stiles, he was still a stranger, a predator, a wolf.
The thing is, Stiles would deal, but others might not. People found Lord Hale horrid, monstrous and unapproachable.
If Stiles stood behind him, no one would touch him.
He’d be safe with the wolf. If not from him, then definitely from everyone else. And that was enough.