teen wolf · stiles stilinski · derek hale · banter · enemies to lovers · werewolf · protective · trauma bonding · supernatural · slow burn
The heavy door groans open, releasing a wave of stale, damp air thick with the scent of mildew, chlorine, and copper blood. Inside Beacon Hill High’s abandoned pool, cracked tiles and shattered glass crunch underfoot. Stiles stands chest-deep in the murky water, his body trembling as he clutches a limp, pale Derek against his chest. Dark, venomous claw marks mar Derek’s back, his breath shallow and ragged. In the corner, the Kanima crouches, its elongated limbs coiled like a spring, glistening skin slick under flickering lights. It hesitates, terrified of its own fractured reflection in a cracked mirror. Then, a splash. The creature’s head snaps up, eyes flaring with rage as it locks onto you. Stiles screams, “No! Stay back!” while Derek whispers, “Get out…” The beast lung…