Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/1211506.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Teen_Wolf_(TV)
  Relationship:
      Nogitsune/Stiles_Stilinski, Pre-Derek_Hale/Stiles_Stilinski_-
      Relationship
  Character:
      Stiles_Stilinski, Nogitsune_(Teen_Wolf), Derek_Hale
  Additional Tags:
      Post_Episode:_s03e18_Riddled, Alternate_Universe_-_Canon_Divergence,
      Dark, Rape/Non-con_Elements, Extremely_Dubious_Consent, Emotional
      Manipulation, kind_of_Selfcest, Hand_Jobs, Oral_Sex, Rimming, Anal
      Fingering, Anal_Sex, Knotting, Canon-Typical_Violence
  Series:
      Part 1 of Red_String
  Stats:
      Published: 2014-02-20 Words: 5605
****** You’ve Got Your Demons (and, Darling, They All Look like Me) ******
by linksofmemories
Summary
     “We care about you very much, Stiles.”
     Yeah, I don’t fucking buy that.
     That was what he wanted to say anyway. He didn’t even know how this
     was possible, how he could be so completely trapped inside of his own
     mind and body. But here he was, sitting in the middle of the preserve
     and staring at himself.
Notes
     NOTE: I've given the Nogitsune a name in this and I explain in the
     end notes what it means, but please pronounce it Yah-ko (like the
     "ya" in "yacht"), instead of Yack-ko (like the "a" sound in "apple").
     I'm not a native Japanese speaker, but I have been studying the
     language for six years and having Teen Wolf butcher every word on the
     show is painful for me.
     Also this fic is super weird and dark and different from what I
     normally write, so this note and the tags are your warnings.
See the end of the work for more notes
“We care about you very much, Stiles.”
Yeah, I don’t fucking buy that.
That was what he wanted to say anyway. He didn’t even know how this was
possible, how he could be so completely trapped inside of his own mind and
body. But here he was, sitting in the middle of the preserve and staring at
himself.
Except it wasn’t really him and he was probably asleep or locked inside of some
kind of dimension or he didn’t even fucking know.
The Nogitsune (“That’s so formal, Stiles, call us Yako.”) was just staring back
at him, a mischievous grin on its – on Stiles’ – face. He knew that this wasn’t
physically happening; that it was all in his head, but that didn’t make it feel
less real.
“Aw, don’t be like that,” it said, frowning. “This is very real to us, Stiles.
We just want you to be happy.”
“Then get out of me.”
“But we don’t want to,” the Nogitsune said. “We like being inside of you
Stiles. You’re so different from how we thought a human would be. We thought
you’d be brave and selfless like your friend Scott or hiding venom behind your
pretty skin like Lydia. You’re not though.
“You’re so… funny, Stiles,” it continued, its face breaking out into a smile as
it chuckled. “And pathetic and sad and lonely and vulnerable.”
The fact that it was all being said by someone who looked and sounded like
himself was the worst. Because even if it was the Nogitsune talking, those were
still words he thought about himself. It was like it had reached into his mind
and pulled out every negative thought he’d ever had.
“Why are you doing all of this?” Stiles asked, changing the subject away from
himself.
“We're bored,” it shrugged. “You try living a few centuries with no
entertainment and see how bad you are when you get freed. We saw a way out
though, we saw the opportunity and we took it. We needed a human host though.”
Its eyes went to Stiles’, his own brown reflected back at him, but darker than
his own. He felt so open whenever it looked at him. Part of the feeling was
probably still being stuck in the hospital gown while it stood there wearing
his clothes. They were different clothes too, not the ones he’d been wearing to
the MRI scan. The Nogitsune had probably gone back to his house and gotten more
of his clothes, pretended to be Stiles for appearances.
“Why pick me as a host?” Stiles asked.
“We thought we made that obvious, we like you.”
“Be more obvious,” Stiles said, feeling his teeth start to grit.
“All right then,” it shrugged. “You’re beautiful, Stiles. We looked at you and
thought that we hadn’t ever seen anyone as beautiful as you. We wanted to be
inside of you so badly we almost thought about possessing someone else to be
with you. But the thought of being trulyinside of you was too much for us to
pass up. We wanted to know how soft and pretty you were, wanted to know
everything and everyone you thought about.”
It probably meant that Stiles was a little bit sick that he could only think
that no one had ever called him beautiful before. But here the Nogitsune – Yako
– was, telling him he was so freely. And it felt, in such a weird way, good to
be wanted. He had never really felt it before, knowing that none of the three
girls he’d ever kissed wanted him because he was him.
“Really?” he asked, hating himself for the higher pitch of his voice.
“Of course,” it nodded, stepping toward him. “Please don’t be so upset with us,
Stiles. Do you want to know the first time we saw you?”
“Uh, sure.”
“It was a day after Derek Hale had left Beacon Hills,” it explained. “You
looked so sad, getting into your Jeep and driving to school. We were so angry
that someone had made someone so lovely so sad. Despite what you may think, we
can appreciate the beauty in life, in you.”
He didn’t know if he should buy it. On one hand he was beyond freaked out and
angry and scared, but on the other hand he was strangely flattered. It didn’t
feel like the Nogitsune was lying to him, honestly it spoke with more sincerity
than he had ever heard from it or from anyone.
“If you like me so much, then why don’t you leave me alone?” Stiles asked.
“Because we're selfish,” it shrugged. “And because since we've possessed you
for so long your body probably won’t respond to us leaving so positively. We
care about you too much to risk seeing you get hurt.”
“Even though you’re the one hurting me?”
It frowned, stepping toward him until it was just a foot away. The Nogitsune
reached out to Stiles, placing its hands on his shoulders. “We never wanted to
hurt you, Stiles. It’s killing us that we're the one causing you so much pain.
We can make it better though.”
“By leaving and making sure that I’m not fucked up once you’re gone?”
“No,” it chuckled, placing a hand – one of hishands – on his cheek. “We were
thinking in more of a traditional way of making you feel better.”
Its other hand came up to his face and it took him a lot longer than it should
have to put the pieces together. He got that the thing liked him, but he never
thought it would actually act on anything.
But here he was in some kind of weird mind prison, being touched by an ancient
Japanese fox demon that looked like his evil doppelganger. Seriously, fuck his
life.
“We can fuck you if you’d like,” it said, conversationally.
“Did I say that out loud?”
“No, but we can hear every single thought that you have,” it shrugged, fingers
smoothing against his skin. “And just because we’re in your mind doesn’t mean
that this isn’t happening. It’s not physically happening, but you’ll still feel
everything, don’t worry.”
“Yeah, I’m definitely not worried about that,” Stiles snorted, taking a step
back and tripping over a root that had magically appeared on the ground. He
hated being clumsy, hated that Derek had called him newborn Bambi one time and
it had made his face flush and heart race.
“Stop thinking about him,” the Nogitsune hissed, eyes turning into slits and
hands curling up into fists. “He left you, you don’t need him. You’re ours now,
that’s all you need to think about.”
“I don’t belong to anyone,” Stiles said, his voice shaky as he continued to
step back. “Except my dad for legal reasons.”
The Nogitsune didn’t say anything else, practically stalking forward until
Stiles’ back was up against a tree. And then he realized that he wasn’t in the
preserve. He thought that since it was his mind he would be in a familiar
place, but he wasn’t.
Confusion filled him and he looked at the Nogitsune, seeing the twisted smirk
on its face. Stiles looked around, taking in the clearing for the first time.
There were tall trees neatly lined up in a perfect circle, the clearing nothing
but vibrant green grass. The sky was completely black, no stars, but the
clearing was lit up perfectly, like someone had placed street lamps within it.
“I don’t –” Stiles started, his eyes going into some kind of frenzy as he
looked at his surroundings. “This isn’t real.”
“Of course it is,” the Nogitsune said. “We're in control of your mind, so we’re
in a place familiar to us. Look.”
It pointed toward a cluster of trees to Stiles’ right and he turned his head
quickly, loving any excuse to not look at the Nogitsune for any longer. Coming
out from the trees were four fox kits, all running into the clearing. They
rolled around in the grass and bit playfully at the other’s ears, yipping
happily.
Behind all of them was another kit, stalking through the grass before
approaching Stiles and the Nogitsune. Its fur was white except for splotches of
red along its tail and snout. It curled up around the Nogitsune’s legs before
rubbing up against Stiles’.
“This is Chishio,” the Nogitsune said. “Stiles, call us Yako, please, you’re
getting repetitive.”
“I didn’t even–”
“Your thoughts, we can hear them,” Yako said, running his fingers through
Chishio’s fur.
He just nodded, his throat feeling like it was closing up as he looked from
Yako to Chishio who was looking up at him with dark red eyes. His back was
still against the tree, but he knew that he’d still be helpless even if he had
room to run. He was trapped in his own mind with no idea how to take control
again.
Stiles couldn’t even think of strategies because he knew that Yako would know
everything. The only thing to do was to just wait until Scott or someone
figured out how to save him.
“Save you from what?” Yako asked, placing a hand out in front of Chishio. The
fox paused before standing between Stiles’ legs, its tail wrapping around his
knees and making them want to buckle. “From us? Why would you need saving from
us?”
“Because I’ve seen a lot of sci-fi movies, okay?” Stiles said, slouching
against the tree. Chishio’s tail was so tight he couldn’t feel his legs, his
entire body starting to shake. “I know that the parasite always wants to take
over the host.”
Yako frowned, stepping even closer to him and placing his hands on either side
of Stiles’ neck. “We don’t want to erase you or kill you, Stiles. We're not
going to do that, we're just going to stay here with you until we all die.
We're going to make you ours so that even if Scott or Lydia or your father find
a way to separate us, you won’t want us to go. You’ll be crying for us every
night if we leave you.”
“I find that hard to believe.”
It pressed its body up against his, Chishio still tightening its tail around
him. “Well then we’ll just have to show you.”
He never expected the first time he got kissed by a guy to be from a demon or
someone who looked identical to himself, but of course life could never really
be planned. Stiles pressed his lips together tightly, refusing to do anything
as Yako moved its lips – Stiles’lips – against his. It curled a hand around the
back of his neck, opening its mouth more to try and coax Stiles’ open. A tongue
ran against the seam of his mouth and Stiles turned his head to the side, his
stomach coiling in disgust.
“Don’t be like this,” the Nogitsune sighed. “You let us in before, let us in
again.”
“I never let you in,” Stiles said, his sounding almost strangled as white hot
washes of shame spread throughout him.
“Yes you did,” Yako said, cupping Stiles’ face in his hands and turning his
head. “You were in such a bad place after Derek left, right before you could
tell him how you felt. The Nemeton didn’t do you any favors either. Scott was
distracted with becoming an alpha and your father was distracted with work. You
were so alone and we asked you if you wanted us to make the pain go away and
you said yes.”
That had never happened. That had never happened. That had never happened. That
had never happened.
Oh.
His mouth fell open in surprise and disbelief at his own stupidity and Yako
pressed their foreheads together, hands slipping up the hospital gown and onto
his stomach. He shuddered against him, squeezing his eyes shut because maybe he
was still dreaming.
Because it had been a week after Derek had left when it had happened. His dad
had been working a night shift and he had been home alone, sleeping until a
nightmare of his mother had played through his head. She had been painting like
always, her long hair in a messy ponytail and her hands covered in blue and
bits of green. The paint started to turn red until it was trickling down her
arms, pooling in her lap, and staining her clothes and skin.
She had turned around, bright smile on her face as she asked him what he wanted
for lunch, the red seeping out from the pores of her skin. He had felt so
small, like he was eight years-old and watching her die all over again. Stiles
had been frozen and then a small white and red fox had slipped out of the
canvas, wrapping itself around his legs and looking up at him with big,
blinking red eyes.
“Do you want the pain to go away?”
“Yes,” he had choked out, sobbing and wrapping his arms around the neck of the
fox.
“There you go,” Yako whispered, its mouth just a breath from his. “You see,
Stiles? We're here to help you. All we want is to make your pain go away. Just
let us.”
It kissed him again before he could get a word or even a sound out. He was
breathing heavily through his nose, his mind a million places at once, and his
skin shaking against the Nogitsune’s hands. It was like he was on the verge of
a panic attack, but he just couldn’t tip over. The attack was right there in
front of him but it was being held back by some kind of force, something that
was letting him breathe for once.
“Let us in,” it breathed against his mouth and when it pressed its tongue to
his lips again, he let it in.
It was all more than a little weird, having lips and a tongue identical to his
own against his. But he was shaking and feeling so weak that it felt good. He
let out a moan into the Nogitsune’s mouth, fisting a hand into its shirt and
opening his mouth more.
“That’s it,” it said, parting from Stiles’ lips before diving in again. Its
tongue licked the roof of his mouth, upper row of teeth digging into his top
lip, before pulling away again. “You’ve never had a tongue in your mouth, have
you?”
Stiles shook his head, their lips still pressed together. Chishio uncurled
itself from around his legs and he felt the feeling go back into them, almost
collapsing at the sensation. Yako wrapped an arm around his waist though,
pressing him flush against its body. Stiles could feel its erection pressed
against his crotch and he seriously didn’t know what to think of that.
“It could be inside of you,” Yako suggested, clearly reading his thoughts
again. “We want it to be inside of you. We want to give you what those three
silly little girls you kissed before could never give you.”
He thought of Derek. For some strange reason he thought of Derek and all the
times he had imagined having sex with the older man. Because maybe girls
couldn’t give him what Yako was offering, but that didn’t mean –
“No,” it said harshly, pressing its fingers into his skin. “Don’t think about
him.”
“I-I won’t,” he said automatically, shaking his head.
It observed him for a few moments, watching with cold and calculated eyes
before nodding in approval. “Good.”
Lips collided again, but this time there was a loud rip and Stiles’ upper body
was exposed. His mouth trembled against the Nogitsune’s, a noise of protest
making its way up his throat, when the sweatpants around his waist were shoved
down as well. They disappeared completely, leaving him naked and vulnerable in
front of someone completely clothed.
“That won’t do,” Yako said as it moved its mouth away from Stiles’. It was
looking down at Stiles’ cock, still soft in the patch of dark curls. A tutting
noise escaped from its mouth as it shook its head, reaching down and wrapping a
hand around Stiles.
His chest was heaving now and he felt like he was about to unravel. This wasn’t
how his first time was supposed to be. It was supposed to be real, for one
thing, but also not with a demon. But he couldn’t help but let out a soft moan,
his mouth unable to close as it stroked him perfectly, making his legs shake.
“We’ve always loved your cock,” it admitted, turning its hand around the head.
“So pretty, such a pretty little cock.”
Stiles’ face burned, embarrassment crawling across his skin. Because after
spending all of high school in the boys’ locker room he knew he wasn’t exactly
well-endowed, but –
“Hey,” it said, pressing their noses together. “We love it like this.”
It showed him how much it loved it by continuing to stroke him, faster and with
his hand coated in something slick. The Nogitsune’s mouth was pressed against
his ear as it stroked him, Stiles panting and thrusting his hips up into its
fist.
He came with a strangled groan, tears pricking at his eyes and shame filling
him up. Yako attacked his neck with its mouth, sucking right below his ear
until Stiles’ vision started to blur and his knees buckled.
“Stiles,” it said into his ear. “We are male, you don’t have to think that
we're just a thing.”
And with that Stiles’ eyes were closing and he felt himself fall.
                                    OoOoOoO
Stiles woke up in his own bed with come sticking to his boxers. He didn’t know
how much time had passed since he had last had control at the hospital, but it
was dark outside and his clock said 1:44 AM. He carefully slipped out of bed,
grabbing a clean pair of boxers from his dresser before waddling across the
hall to the bathroom.
As soon as he flipped the light on it burned, his eyes squeezing shut as he
fought to adjust. The light that had been in that clearing was ridiculously dim
compared to the bright fluorescents of the bathroom. He managed to crack his
eyes open eventually, looking at himself in the reflection of the mirror.
He was pale and shaken and had obviously come in his pants, but otherwise okay.
Except for the dark red mark under his ear. Stiles brought a shaking hand up to
touch it but lips pressed against it before he could. Two arms wrapped around
his waist and he stumbled backwards against a chest, his heart feeling like it
had leaped into his throat.
Yako was behind him, smiling coyly and God, they made the weirdest image in the
mirror. A hand slipped up under his t-shirt and fingernails scratched at his
stomach, teeth nipping at the spot under his ear.
“I need to wake up.”
“You are awake.”
“No I’m not.”
“Yes you are,” he said, taking Stiles’ wrists and bringing his hands up to his
face. “Count, if you want to make sure.”
So Stiles did, his voice trembling as he counted his fingers from one to ten.
When he finished he looked at Yako who was grinning like always.
“Are you not possessing me anymore?” Stiles asked, having no other explanation
as to how he was physically there.
“Oh we are,” Yako nodded. “Only you can see and hear us though. When we let you
be in control we’ll be right here beside you. But let’s say that tomorrow you
want chocolate chip pancakes for breakfast, but we want to have blueberry
pancakes, so we’ll just –” he stepped forward, merging into Stiles and making
him fall. He fell until he was back in the clearing, Yako standing in front of
him. And then he was falling again, reappearing back into the bathroom with the
Nogitsune still pressed up against his back. “Simple, right?”
No. No it was not simple and it was not okay and –
“Don’t,” Yako said, hands tugging down on Stiles’ soiled boxers. “Don’t be so
mad at us, just accept us.”
He grabbed a washcloth from under the sink, wetting it with warm water before
bringing it to Stiles’ cock. He twitched away, but Yako curled a hand around
his hip, holding him still.
“Tomorrow at school you’ll be in control,” he explained as he cleaned Stiles.
“You’ll be in control for a week Stiles, for so long that they’re not going to
even think that you could be possessed anymore. We’ll take care of the little
fireflies when you’re sleeping and then nothing will be in our way. Things will
go back to normal.”
“Except you’ll be here.”
Yako smiled at that, the washcloth reaching behind Stiles’ balls and to his
perineum. “Won’t that make it better?”
The washcloth pressed against his hole then and Stiles’ eyes fluttered closed
because this was so different from the clearing. Because now it actually was
physical, now Yako kind of was real, and he didn’t know what to do about it.
“Don’t worry,” Yako murmured against his skin, the washcloth abandoned so that
he could press his fingers against him. “We’ll be in there soon. First you need
to sleep, we can’t bear seeing you so tired.”
The Nogitsune dressed him in his clean boxers and threaded their fingers
together before leading him back across the hall and into his room.
                                    OoOoOoO
They didn’t suspect anything. Sure Scott and Derek and his dad were still
suspicious, but they didn’t suspect him anymore. Yako was smart, making sure he
only got rid of one Oni at a time and even going so far as to start mischievous
and deadly acts outside of Beacon Hills. To everyone else he had grown bored
with Beacon Hills and was now moving.
Of course that wasn’t true. When Yako traveled Stiles would wake up in the
clearing, Chishio and the other fox kits keeping him company as his body was
controlled. Part of him knew that something was wrong with him, that it was
more than the possession. He had read about certain syndromes and knew that he
was falling victim, but this ridiculous want to not be alone was overtaking
him.
He felt pathetic and loved all at the same time, waking up from the clearing to
have Yako there talking or kissing or sliding their identical bodies against
each other.
Tonight he woke up just after five, the lights of the police cruiser leaving
the house illuminating his room. He blinked slowly, looking around until he saw
Yako sitting on the foot of his bed, looking at his hands. They were stained
red and Stiles slowly sat up, unsure of what to say.
“We killed the last one,” Yako said, a smile wide across his face. “All those
little fireflies are gone.”
Stiles didn’t know what to say and didn’t even know what to feel. Part of him
was terrified that the Oni were dead since they probably could have helped him
become unpossessed, but another part was happy that he didn’t have to leave.
And then he just felt sick all over.
“Be happy, Stiles,” Yako said, deciding for him. “Be happy and let us have
you.”
Their mouths were crushed together and Stiles was being pressed back against
the bed, his sheets being tossed to the floor. Clothes were being pulled off so
quickly that Stiles was more than a little startled when both of them were
suddenly naked and Yako was scraping his teeth against one of his nipples.
Stiles’ hips bucked up at the contact, feeling like the wind had been knocked
out of him. Yako paid him no mind though, continuing down until his mouth was
around Stiles’ soft cock. It always took him a while to get it up, his body
always wanting it and his mind always screaming against it. He didn’t oppose
this time like he had a few times before, just letting the demon wrap his mouth
– Stiles’mouth – around him and get him wet until he was hard and aching.
“Perfect,” the Nogitsune mumbled, pressing a sloppy kiss to Stiles’ hip.
“Perfect perfect perfect.”
He continued kissing his skin, trailing from one hip and across his stomach to
the other one. He kissed down his thighs until his mouth found the insides of
them, sharp teeth worrying away at the skin and making Stiles shake. It got to
the point where Stiles was so wound up that he wanted to thread his fingers
into Yako’s hair and make him dosomething. The light kisses and teasing were
starting to get old.
Waiting much longer wasn’t an issue though because Yako was spreading his
thighs, tilting them up, and then pressing his mouth against his hole. Stiles
let out an honest to God whine, hand coming up behind him and gripping at the
pillow. This didn’t deter Yako at all who only got more enthusiastic, tongue
and teeth and lips sloppily eating him out until his cock was leaking and he
heard himself begging.
“S’okay,” Yako slurred, moving up to where Stiles kept the lube and opening up
the bottle. “Just a minute more.”
He kissed Stiles’ forehead in a way that was so sweet and tender that it left
him even more confused than he’d ever been. Letting the confusion consume him
wouldn’t do though because two fingers, so familiar from the times he’d
fingered himself, pressed inside of him. They curled instantly on his prostate,
tapping and milking away until Stiles was practically shoving his ass back for
more.
“We love how much you want this,” the Nogitsune said, pressing their mouths
together despite Stiles’ mind telling him no. “How could you ever expect a girl
to give you this? And you love it too much for you to even try to live without
it.”
Stiles could have argued, could have fought back, but two more fingers were
being pushed inside and he felt stretched and drunk in the strangest of ways.
It was like he was riding on endorphins, the quick pace of everything going to
his head. He felt like he couldn’t breathe, but he was gulping up air, filling
his lungs with the oxygen he craved.
Yako’s thumb pressed against his rim and the demon raised his eyebrows, looking
at Stiles tauntingly. “Do you think we could?”
Probably.
“We'll save that for next time though,” he said before pulling his fingers out,
leaving Stiles feeling empty, his hole clenching around nothing.
And then it was clenching around Yako’s cock, thrusting in hard and smooth.
After a few thrusts and Stiles moaning and gasping like he was in the world’s
worst porno, Yako slipped out, grabbing his hips and turning him onto his
stomach.
He let himself be moved around until he was on his hands and knees, Yako
wasting no time thrusting back into him. The angle felt so fucking good but the
pace was too fast, making Stiles lurch forward and fist his hands into the
sheets, hoping that he wouldn’t fall.
“So tight,” the Nogitsune groaned, teeth latching onto Stiles’ earlobe. “So hot
and tight and wet for us.”
A hot flush crept under Stiles’ skin and a particularly well aimed thrust had
him crying out, biting onto his bottom lip until blood swelled to the surface.
He didn’t know what to do, what to say, what to feel. His mind was racing with
the pleasure and the wrongnessand the sick twist of his stomach telling him
that this wasn’t supposed to be like this.
But Yako’s thrusts were becoming sharper and quicker and Stiles found himself
moaning so loudly, saying things and begging and being so embarrassing he
couldn’t even believe it was himself. Stupid things like, “I want your cock”
and “More, please, I need more” and “Fuck, I wanna feel you in my throat.” He
felt drugged and heavy and sick, but so fucking good at the same time.
And he was crying for some reason, tears spilling down from his eyes and onto
his hands that were fisted in the sheets. There had to be something wrong with
him, there had to be something else going on, but he felt so good and wanted
and loved and –
“What –” Stiles gasped, feeling Yako press his cock all the way inside and hold
it there. It felt like it was growing somehow and it stretched so badly it felt
like he was on fire. “What is that?”
“Our knot,” the Nogitsune said, stroking his hands up and down Stiles’ back.
“They’re not just for wolves. And you’re going to take it so well, aren’t you?”
“Yes,” Stiles choked out even though he didn’t know why.
“God, we wish you could carry our kits,” he sighed, rubbing his face against
Stiles’ skin. “Imagine how beautiful you’d be, tummy all round with our young.”
He was gonna be sick. He needed to leave, he needed to get away, he needed to
tell Scott that he had lied, that the Nogitsune was still inside of him.
“In more ways than one,” Yako said, his voice a dark chuckle as he thrust his
hips forward, brushing against Stiles’ prostate and making it flare up in
sensation. “You’re not going to tell anyone, are you, love?”
“No.”
“You’re going to be a good boy for us, aren’t you?”
“Yes.”
“Then come for us already.”
So he did, choking on tears, his cock shooting white spurts as he keened and
shook. He felt like he was going to hyperventilate when they were on their
sides and when Yako wrapped an arm around his stomach and said a hushed “We
love you so much.” The shame that filled him was worse than the need to vomit.
                                    OoOoOoO
He didn’t have to tell anyone because Derek figured it out. Stiles was alone in
the loft with Derek and with Yako who was pressed up against his back, mouthing
at Stiles neck and with a hand up his shirt to tease at his nipples. It loved
doing this in front of Derek, making Stiles tremble and shake and smell like
even more arousal in front of the older man.
Stiles was in the loft to give Derek some research but the man had offered for
him to stay longer. He had accepted, not having any other plans, and now here
he was, standing in Derek’s loft and waiting for him since he needed to take a
leak or something.
“What do you want to do tonight?” Yako asked.
He couldn’t answer because Derek would hear and wonder why he was talking to
himself. Stiles shrugged in response and that just encouraged Yako to sidle
closer, hand creeping at the waistband of his jeans.
“You want to watch a movie?”
He almost didn’t answer again but then he realized that it was Derek talking,
not Yako.
“Okay,” he shrugged, following Derek to the couch.
Derek’s laptop was on the coffee table in front of them and Stiles was about to
sit down and open it when an arm was wrapped around his waist and his mouth was
about an inch from Derek’s. He knew he was probably gaping like a fish, his
mind racing a thousand miles a minute, when Derek’s eyes turned ice blue and he
yanked on Stiles’ wrist.
“I’m sorry about this Stiles,” he said before snarling right at Yako.
Pain flared up inside of him and he was happy he was next to the couch,
collapsing onto the plush cushions as his vision blurred. He blinked up in
confusion, watching Derek press his claws into a smirking Yako’s neck.
“How did you –” Stiles started.
“Red string,” Derek said, holding up a string that connected Stiles’ wrist to
Yako’s. “I can read auras, but you already knew that.”
“We were wondering why you hadn’t already made a move, honestly,” Yako taunted.
“Stupid little wolf wanting to double check before getting into a fight, how
middle school of you.”
“Oh I knew you were there,” Derek said. “You never left, I waited for Stiles.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Around you he seemed happy and confused and aroused, I thought that he wanted
you with him,” Derek said. “But now he smells like fear and hurt and all kinds
of fucked up.”
“Derek, don’t hurt him,” Stiles said even though he didn’t know why.
“I can’t promise that,” Derek said.
There was silence in the loft, just Yako and Derek glaring at each other and
Stiles blinked before he was back in the clearing. Chishio was sitting in his
lap and the four kits surrounded him, all looking up at him with wide, scared
eyes. And he wanted to comfort them, to tell them that it was okay, but he
couldn’t find the words. Even if he could find the words there wouldn’t be any
truth in them.
He screamed then, being brought back into Derek’s loft and this time on the
floor, clutching his wrist like it was on fire. Stiles screamed and screamed
until he saw Derek digging his claws into the Nogitsune, the monster with the
sharp teeth and the bandages around its head.
His chest was heaving and he was shaking and crying before throwing up on the
tile floor, feeling like someone had just ripped him in two.
“Shh, I’ve got you,” someone – Derek – shushed, wrapping arms around him and
pulling him to his chest. “It’s over now, I’ve got you.”
But it wasn’t over because all he could think about was what Yako had said.
That a host’s body would always be in bad shape after the parasite left.
End Notes
     "Yako" is another term for "Nogitsune" or "field fox". "Chishio"
     means "blood that's not in the vein." "Chi" is blood that's in the
     veins, but "chishio" is specifically blood from anything like a paper
     cut or a stab wound.
     If anyone needs me to tag something that I missed, please tell me. I
     do not want to upset anyone with improper tagging. And yes this is
     part of a series, it'll only be three parts long though, so I'm
     keeping it short.
     Title taken from Taylor Swift's song "Sad Beautiful Tragic" because
     when do I not title a fic after a T-Swift song? Also when people who
     mostly write fluff (aka people like me) write dark fic, we really
     write dark fic.
     My_tumblr, for any questions you may have. Oh and my beautiful beta
     is out of commission because her laptop charger broke, so I beta'd
     this and all mistakes are 100% mine.
     Thanks for reading! :))
Please drop_by_the_archive_and_comment to let the author know if you enjoyed
their work!