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teenwolffanclub-me · 4 years

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Season 1, Episode 7: Night School (Part Two)

Hey there beautiful reader! If you’re new here, this is a series I’m writing where each chapter is an episode from the first season of Teen Wolf. If you’ve been here before, hey! I missed you! Previous and future chapters are linked at the end of each part if you want to catch up.

Pairing: Stiles x Psychic! Reader (eventually)

Notes: Okay, this one is a lot too. I may have gotten a bit carried away, but so much happens in this episode! And it’s my favorite!

P.S. Jackson manages to be more suspect than the alpha, Allison needs a chill pill ASAP, and Derek is wanted for murder

———————

“Why did you come? What are you doing here?”

Scott rushed the words out the second he laid eyes on Allison. She looked between the three of us, her gaze pausing over my underdressed state, before staring at him in bewilderment.

“Because you asked me to...” She held up her phone as proof, pointing to a text that was very much from him telling her to come here.

Scott’s eyes widened in shock and he snatched the phone out of her hands. She reeled back, surprised.

“I didn’t send this.” His voice was hard as he scrolled through their messages.

“What? What’s going on? Who sent it then?” Her eyes continued flickering between us, searching for answers.

The phone stated ringing in Scott’s hands and she took it back quickly. She glanced at the caller I.D, huffed out a breath of relief, and put it up to her ear.

“Where are you?” She immediately demanded.

Just then, Lydia and Jackson came striding through the lobby doors. They both seemed annoyed to be here, but at least Jackson didn’t look like he was actively dying anymore.

“Finally.” Lydia sighed, raising her eyebrows at us expectantly. “Can we go now?”

Before any of us could respond, there was a loud thud in the ceiling above us. The tiles started creaking as slow footsteps stomped around. We all froze. My heart instantly began racing again at the thought of the alpha so close.

“Run!” Scott yelled at the same moment it came crashing to the floor beside us.

He grabbed Allison’s hand and they took off, the rest of us not far behind. The alpha growled and barked as it chased us down the hall, which was honestly surprising. I never imagined werewolves barking.

I struggled to steady my breathing as we made our way down the hall and into the cafeteria. Scott slammed the doors before locking the deadbolts into the floor. Instantly, everyone started freaking out.

“Help me get these in front of the doors!” Scott was trying to use a table to baracade us inside.

“What was that? Scott? What was that?” Allison shrieked, tugging her hands through her hair.

“Was it in the ceiling?” Lydia added, throwing her arms up in confusion.

“Wait. Not in here.” I heard Stiles mutter, and I wasn’t sure if he was even talking to us or just himself.

“The chairs! Stack the chairs!” Scott was rushing around frantically, not even bothering to check if anyone was actually listening to him.

“Guys, can we just wait a second? You guys, listen to me!” Stiles raised his voice, annoyed that he was being ignored.

Jackson, Lydia, and Allison sprang forward and started grabbing anything they could to add weight to the table. I just wrapped my arms around myself and watched, worried about the level of noise they were all making.

“Guys? Stiles talking. Can we hang on one second please? Hello!” I jumped in surprise at his unexpected shout, and turned my attention his way.

Everyone else whipped around to face him expectantly, ditching their effort at the doors.

“Okay. Nice work. Really beautiful job, everyone. Now...what should we do about the twenty foot wall of windows?” He gestured toward the aforementioned windows with a jerk of his arms.

I cringed, knowing he had a point. The alpha was in the school with us now, but that didn’t mean it would stay that way. It had already proven its intelligence by trapping us with the dumpsters. I wasn’t about to make the mistake of underestimating it again.

“Can somebody please explain to me what’s going on here? Because I am totally freaking out and I would like to know why.” Allison’s voice shook as she tried desperately to fight back tears. She tugged at Scott’s arm and called his name when he avoided her pleading eyes.

Alright. Come on. This is when you tell her.

He pulled himself free and stalked over to a nearby table before letting his elbows rest on it and pinching the bridge of his nose. Allison threw her hands up in exasperation and her gaze moved to me in question. I gave her a one shouldered shrug, not knowing what else to do.

How the hell would we get out of this without telling them everything? A few moments of tense silence passed and I huffed in frustration. If he wasn’t going to do it, I would. I was beyond done with the secrets and the lies. I opened my mouth, about to spill the beans, when Stiles interrupted me.

“Somebody killed the janitor.” He sent me a pointed look and took a few steps toward where Allison, Lydia, and Jackson stood in a line.

I clenched my jaw and tightened the sides of his jacket around my torso. They were going to find out eventually. It would be much better if it came directly from the source.

“What?” Lydia looked terrified by that news, her emerald eyes widening in horror.

“Yeah. He’s dead.” He confirmed with a surprising lack of emotion, glancing around the room to gauge everyone’s reaction. I blame his weird fascination with his dad’s line of work. He’d seen way too much even before the supernatural was involved.

I’d somehow almost forgotten that had happened, and the reminder brought the seriousness of our situation crashing back down onto me. Someone was dead because of the alpha. And now we were stuck, bound to be next any minute.

“What’s he talking about?” Allison forced out a pained laugh and looked to Scott. “Is this a joke?”

“Wha—who killed him?” Jackson spoke up for the first time, not sounding completely convinced.

“No, no, no, no.” Lydia’s eyes welled with tears as she started breathing erratically. “This was supposed to be over. The—the mountain lion...”

“Don’t you get it?” Jackson interrupted harshly. “There was no mountain lion.”

“Who was it? What does he want? What’s happening?” Allison demanded, her voice hard.

I chewed on my bottom lip nervously, feeling like we were quickly losing control of this situation. Keeping them in the dark was making things so much worse right now.

“Scott!” She snapped when he didn’t respond, and he finally spun around to face us.

“I-I don’t know. I just—if we go out there, he’s gonna kill us.” His voice wavered on the lie and he barely raised his eyes from the floor.

“Kill us?” Lydia asked pointedly, crossing her arms over her chest with a pop of her hip.

I couldn’t help but roll my eyes. Leave it to her to think she’d be exempt from a psychotic murderer.

“Who? Who is it?” Allison was nearing a complete panic attack at this point.

I was ready to end this whole thing and face the stupid consequences later, when he finally spoke up. He shook his head and pinched his eyes shut tightly with a sigh.

“It’s Derek.” He muttered, avoiding both mine and Stiles’ stunned expressions. “Derek Hale.”

What the hell was he doing? Derek is dead. And, not to meantion, pretty much the only person we know for sure isn’t the alpha. He must’ve lost his damn mind.

“Derek killed the janitor...?” Jackson narrowed his eyes at Scott skeptically.

Yeah, you’re onto something buddy. Maybe for the first time ever.

“Yes. He killed them. All of them.” He rushed the words out, still refusing to look at anyone.

My jaw clenched tightly. Why couldn’t we just tell them the truth? Would it really be that bad? They were already majorly freaked out. Might as well hit them with the supernatural shit too.

“But the mountain lion...” Lydia tried to reason.

“No. It’s been Derek the whole time. Starting with his own sister—”

“And the bus driver?” Allison was visibily calmer now that she had an answer, but her voice still shook with fear.

“And the guy at the video store. He’s in here with us, and—and if we don’t get out now...”

He finally raised his gaze to look around the room. His eyes were shining with several intense emotions including fear, anxiety, and guilt. He should feel bad. He just threw a dead man under the bus, and lied to his girlfriend in the process. It wasn’t going to end well on either account.

He let out a heavy sigh and carefully considered his next words before speaking. “He’s gonna kill us too.”

A moment of silence passed before Jackson scoffed in annoyance. “Call the cops.”

I had to agree that it seemed like the most logical choice at this point. I’m not sure what they’d be able to do, but they at least had more resources than any of us.

“No.” Stiles said immediately, shaking his head for good measure.

“What do you mean, no?” Jackson furrowed his eyebrows in disbelief.

“I mean no. What, do you wanna hear it in Spanish? No.” Stiles threw his hands down to his sides in frustration. “Look, Derek killed three people. We don’t know what he’s armed with.”

For some reason, his willingness to go along with Scott’s lie really bothered me. He was by far the most loyal person I’d ever met, so it wasn’t surprising, but it still didn’t sit well with me. Sometimes it was hard to distinguish the truth with them, and that made me nervous.

“Your dad is armed with an entire sheriff’s department. Call him!” Jackson raised his voice, his anger spiking at Stiles’ apparent hesitation to do anything helpful.

He had a point. I knew the last thing Stiles wanted to do was involve his dad in any of this stuff, but there came a time when we needed adults to step in. I’d say this was one of those moments.

“I’m calling.” Lydia pulled out her phone and began pacing away from their bickering.

“No! Lydia. Would you just hold on a second?” Stiles moved toward her, one arm outstretched, until Jackson stepped between them and shoved him away harshly.

“Hey!” Scott rushed to Stiles side, who just narrowed his eyes angrily.

Oh, God. The last thing we needed right now was a fight. They shouldn’t even be arguing about this, either. I didn’t care what it was, we just needed to do something—anything—to try and get out of here safely.

“Yes, we’re at Beacon Hills High School. We’re trapped and we need you to—but...” Lydia lowered her phone from her ear slowly in disbelief. “She hung up on me.”

“The police hung up on you?” Confusion seeped through my voice as I stepped toward her. Why would they do that?

Her eyes snapped up to mine, her bottom lip quivering. “She said they got a tip saying that there would be prank calls about the high school. She said if I called again, she’d trace the call and have me arrested.”

“Okay, so call again!” Allison cried from behind her, growing frantic again.

“No, they won’t trace a cell.” Stiles mumbled. “They’ll send a car to your house before anyone comes here.”

Once again, I was surprised at his level of knowledge about police procedures. Just how much had his dad let him in on?

“What the—what is this? Why does Derek want to kill us? Why is he killing anyone?” A stray tear escaped Allison’s eyes as they jumped around the room, hoping anyone could answer her questions.

They were all valid, and I felt terrible that she was so freaked out. Although, I had a feeling that knowing a werewolf was actually the one chasing us wouldn’t help to put her mind at ease. I wanted nothing more than to tell her the truth. What’s the worst that could happen, anyway?

“Why is everyone looking at me like that?” Scott asked upon noticing that all the attention was on him.

“Is he the one that sent her the text?” Lydia rushed the words out quickly, her eyes wide with fear.

“I don’t know.” Scott muttered through clenched teeth.

I wasn’t sure why they thought he’d have all the answers. I mean, he did have some kind of connection to the alpha, but they didn’t know that. To them, he should be as clueless as the rest of us.

“Was he the one that called the police?” Allison threw her hands up in exasperation as she desperately tried to piece any of this together.

“I don’t know!” Scott snapped, the sudden anger in his face immediately disappearing as he saw the way Allison recoiled from him.

Okay, this conversation was going nowhere, and fast. I grabbed ahold of Scott’s elbow and dragged him across the room as Lydia wrapped a comforting arm around Allison. Tensions were incredibly high right now, and everyone needed to chill the fuck out and stop fighting if we wanted to survive this.

“Okay, first of all.” I whispered with a raise of my eyebrows as Stiles quickly joined us. “Throwing Derek under the bus? Nice one.”

“I-I didn’t know what to say. I had to say something!” He tugged a hand through his hair as he tried to calm his breathing. “And if he’s dead, it doesn’t matter, right? Except if he’s not. Oh, God. I totally just bit her head off.”

He tried to sneak a glance at Allison over my shoulder but stopped when Stiles clasped a hand on his bicep. “And she’ll totally get over it. Bigger issues at hand right now. Like how do we get out of here alive?”

“But we are alive.” I cut in, voicing something that had been bothering me this whole time. “It could’ve killed us already. It’s like it’s...cornering us or something.”

“So, what? It wants to eat us all at the same time?” I glowered at Stiles for suggesting that ridiculous theory and he shrugged.

“No!” Scott whispered harshly. “Derek said it wants revenge.”

“Against who?” I couldn’t help but wonder which one of us could’ve somehow wronged the thing this badly.

“Okay, assheads!” I jumped as Jackson suddenly yelled and strode toward us with a scowl. “New plan. Stiles calls his useless dad and tells him to send someone with a gun and decent aim. We good with that?”

God, what was his problem with Sheriff Stilinski? He’d made so many comments about him recently. At this point, it was getting weird. Everyone looked to be in agreement, though, which wasn’t good for Stiles.

“He’s right.” Scott said, surprising both of us. “Tell him the truth if you have to. Just...call him.”

“I’m not watching my dad get eaten alive.” He insisted harshly with a twitch of his eyes.

“At this point, the alternative is that we get eaten alive.” I hissed, annoyed with all of this back and forth. We just needed to do something.

“Alright, give me the phone—” Jackson lunged forward, ready to call the sheriff himself.

I let out a yelp as Stiles reared back before landing a punch square on his jaw. Allison immediately rushed to his side as he fell to the floor, clutching his face. Scott put a hand on Stiles’ chest to hold him back, but he looked pretty satisfied with the damage he’d done.

I didn’t miss the way Jackson smirked to himself, seemingly getting exactly what he wanted. I realized at that moment that he’d been trying to provoke Stiles to this breaking point the whole night, and he’d finally succeeded. But why?

I’d never seen Stiles so much as kill a bug, let alone punch someone in the face. His dad was a really sore subject, apparently. He huffed out an irritated breath and begrudgingly yanked his phone from his pocket. Our gazes locked as the call went to his dad’s voicemail, his honey eyes shining with fear as he left a hasty message.

We all jumped as the cafeteria doors started rattling violently. Allison and Lydia ran over to where we stood, hiding behind Scott and Jackson. My eyes grew wide as I watched the large bolts bending in the floor from the force the alpha was using to try and get in.

“The kitchen.” Stiles pocketed his phone and strode over to my side. “The door in the kitchen leads to the stairwell.”

“Which only goes up.” I reminded him, my attention still locked on the doors. They wouldn't be able to hold back for much longer.

“Up is better than here.”

With that, we all took off running again. We stumbled up the stairs and into a random unlocked classroom, falling silent as we waited to see if the alpha had followed. Allison stood with her back against the wall just beside the door, Lydia and Jackson huddled close in front of her. Me and the guys stood on the other side of the doorway.

I tried to steady my breathing as I watched the hallway closely through the small window in the door. Scott leaned toward it, trying to listen for footsteps, until Stiles fisted his jacket and jerked him back. A shadow moved across the glass, everyone visibly relaxing once it was gone.

“Jackson.” Scott whispered. “How many can you fit in your car?”

“Five, if someone squeezes on someone’s lap.” He breathed, bracing his hands against the table behind him.

“Five?” Allison snapped incredulously. “I barely fit in the back.”

“It doesn't matter.” I shook my head solemnly. “There’s no way we’re getting out without drawing attention.”

Now that we were on the second floor, our chances of escape had dwindled to almost none. There were no exits up here. We couldn't jump from any windows without getting seriously hurt. There really weren't many options.

“What about this?” Scott suddenly jogged toward a door in the corner of the room, and we all followed. “This leads to the roof. We can go down the fire escape to the parking lot in, like, seconds.”

“That’s a deadbolt.” Stiles snarked and pointed to the spot that held the door firmly locked.

I rolled my eyes at his attitude. Scott was only trying to help. Now was not the time for his signature sarcasm.

“The janitor has a key.” Scott looked hopeful at the realization.

“You mean his body has it.” I corrected, my stomach twisting painfully at the memory that someone had died right in front of us tonight.

So much had happened since then. I hadn't even begun to process it.

“I can get it. I can find him by scent, from the blood.” He leaned toward us as his voice dropped on the last sentence.

“Well, gee. That sounds like an incredibly terrible idea. What else ya got?” Stiles quipped.

I had to agree. While using the fire escape was probably our only hope at this point, going out there with the alpha was not a smart move. According to Derek, Scott is the one it wants. What’s to say it wouldn't just kill or take him on sight?

“I’m getting the key.” He insisted, his face tightening with determination.

He pushed past us, heading straight for the door, until Allison stepped in his way. “Are you serious?” Her eyes welled with fresh tears and she looked up at him desperately.

“It’s the best plan.” He tried to reassure her, but she just shook her head in disbelief.

I mean, it was a dumb plan. But Scott could handle himself. He’s a werewolf. Someone had to do something already. I was about to go out there myself if we didn’t get a move on.

“You can’t go out there unarmed.” She tried to reason with him, but his mind was already made up.

He looked around before pulling out a flimsy pointer finger on a stick. I tried my best to hold in a snort at the thought of him defending himself with that. Everyone just stared at him, and he shrugged.

“It’s better than nothing.”

“There’s gotta be something else.” Stiles said hopefully.

It was obvious that he didn’t want Scott going out there, either. I wouldn't say I was thrilled about it, but I knew that someone was going to have to make a sacrifice to get us out. He was the most obvious choice, plus he was willing. Who were we to stop him?

“There is.” Lydia glanced toward a cabinet filled with chemicals in various sized beakers behind me. I hadn't even realized we were in one of the chemistry labs. “In there is everything you need to make a self-igniting Molotov cocktail.”

“Well, we don't have a key for that either.” I pointed out, turning around to inspect it. It didn’t exactly solve our problem.

Jackson rolled his eyes with a huff and reluctantly stepped toward the glass case. With a scowl, he used his elbow to easily smash it to pieces.

Well, there’s one way to do it.

————————

It had been nearly ten minutes, and there were no signs of Scott or the alpha. The five of us had barely spoken, simultaneously processing this insane situation and being too afraid to make any noise. The air between us was thick with tension.

Allison had gone into full freak out mode when Scott left. She’d tearfully begged him not to leave, but he obviously didn’t listen. I understood her fear for his safety, but she had to know that it was our only hope. I had every bit of confidence in him. He would be able to get us out of this.

Suddenly, an earthshattering growl echoed through the school. The floors beneath our feet shook with the sheer volume of it. Lydia winced and covered her ears as if the sound pained her. I glanced at Stiles, silently asking whether Scott could make that kind of sound. I’d heard him howl earlier, and it had been impressive, but it was nowhere near whatever the hell that was.

I staggered back a step as Jackson unexpectedly fell onto his knees in front of me with a groan. He scratched at the back of his neck and began breathing heavily. Lydia and I grabbed each of his arms and hauled him back onto his feet as he continued wincing and moaning. He shoved us away, and I stumbled over my own feet.

“Don’t. I’m fine.” He turned to face us, still rubbing at the spot where I knew Derek’s claws had dug into his skin not long ago. “Seriously, I’m okay.”

“That didn’t even look remotely okay.” I huffed, concerned.

I mean, what the hell was that?

“Hey, what’s on the back of your neck?” Stiles peered over Jackson’s shoulder and stretched an arm out toward him.

He swatted it away and avoided all of our eyes. There was no way that was normal. Why would he react that way to the alpha’s growl? It didn’t make any sense.

“Well? It’s been there for days and you won’t tell me what happened.” Lydia crossed her arms skeptically. Clearly, it had been bothering her.

“As if you actually care.” He barked harshly, and she looked away, tears glistening in her eyes.

I was just about to lay into him for how not cool talking to her like that was, when police sirens sounded from outside. Everyone breathed a sigh of relief and ran toward the windows, before looking down to confirm that help was actually here.

For the first time tonight, I felt myself relax. We were going to be okay.

————————

I pulled the sides of Stiles’ jacket tighter around myself, shivering against the frigid night air. My eyes were locked on him and Scott as they talked to the Sheriff. He was called away, and they continued whispering nervously. I would’ve preferred to be right there, listening, but Stiles said he’d drive me home. So here I stood, leaning against his Jeep. Waiting. Freezing to death.

I let my eyes follow them as they walked over toward an ambulance that Scott’s boss was sitting inside of. I had to admit, his mysterious disappearance—and subsequent revival—was insanely suspicious. I wasn't entirely convinced that he was the alpha, but he wasn't exactly in the clear, either.

After briefly talking to him, Scott and Stiles went their separate ways. Scott joined Allison, who had already told Lydia and I that she was going to break up with him. She was doubting pretty much everything about him after tonight, and I couldn't really blame her. He was keeping a huge part of himself secret, and it was pretty obvious at this point. I didn’t envy him having to figure a way out of that one.

“You could've gotten in.” I jumped at the sound of Stiles’ voice next to me, but forced myself to relax as he popped open the passenger door for me.

I climbed inside, buckling my seatbelt just as he slid into the seat beside me. My house was only a few minutes away, and I already felt my anxiety rising at the thought of sleeping there by myself after everything that had just happened. Mom was working the night shift again.

My fingers began trembling in my lap as the weight of tonight’s events came crashing down onto my shoulders.

I felt Stiles’ eyes on me, but kept my head down. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” I sighed. It wasn't technically a lie. I was still breathing, and that counted for something. “I’m just not really looking forward to being home alone tonight.”

I felt heat crawl up my neck as I continued to avoid his curious gaze. I don't know what had compelled me to admit that. There was no reason for me to share that with him. I’d be fine.

I finally looked at him as the car jerked to the left so quickly I nearly fell out of my seat.

“What are you doing?” I balanced myself on the dashboard as we made a full 180 degree turn.

“You’re staying over.” He’d said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

I gaped at him, shocked that he would even suggest it. The last time we did that... “Stiles—”

“It’s okay.” He interrupted hastily, his fingers tightening on the steering wheel. “My dad won’t care.”

“Stiles...” I let myself trail off that time, not sure what I wanted to say.

I didn’t want to be alone, and the last time we slept in the same bed, I’d had the best night of sleep since moving. It wasn't a bad idea per se, but...I don't even know. It was Stiles. And he made me nervous.

“Look. It’s really for my benefit. I mean, that was terrifying.” He let out a sigh, trying to make that sound believable.

“Nice try.” I scoffed, shifting back in my seat now that we were driving straight again. “You’re so not afraid of anything.”

He glanced at me briefly. “What makes you say that?”

“It’s true?” I finally looked at him again, studying the way his throat bobbed as he swallowed. I took a moment to admire the view I had of his profile. The yellow lighting of the street lamps outside beautifully highlighted the freckles that dotted his skin, and pulled out the natural orangey tint of his eyes.

“You’ve had all this supernatural stuff thrown on you, and you’ve just accepted it like it’s no big deal. You’re always jumping at the chance to help, even though you’re human, and you’re usually the one who figures things out first. None of that strikes me as someone who’s easily scared.”

He looked at me with a small smile, his eyes trailing over my face appreciatively, and I felt my own lips tugging upward in return.

About ten minutes later, I was following him into his bedroom. It was much cleaner than I expected. It was small, nothing more than a bed with a plaid comforter—of course—a couple of bedside tables with a small lamp, and a desk. He shut the door behind us, and we stood there for a moment awkwardly.

I wasn't sure if I should sit on his bed or the plush chair in front of the desk. He was still by the entrance, one hand on the doorknob while the other rubbed at the back of his head. I made my choice and walked over to the bed.

I plopped down, tucking one of my legs beneath myself while the other dangled off the edge of his mattress. I let my toes brush against the cool hardwood floors as I watched him consider his options.

After some hesitation, he moved to join me on the bed. He sat about a foot away, and I was simultaneously disappointed and grateful for that little bit of distance between us. He played with his fingers in his lap and avoided my eyes.

“We could’ve died tonight.” I breathed, mostly wanting to break the silence but also just beginning to process everything.

He looked up at me tenderly and reached a tentative hand forward to tuck a loose strand of hair behind my ear. “But we didn’t.”

“Don’t you find that weird?” My skin erupted with heat as he let the tips of his fingers linger on my neck. “I mean, the alpha had so many opportunities to kill us and it just...didn’t. It was almost like it was playing with us or something.”

I could practically see the gears turning behind his eyes as he studied me for a moment. He parted his lips, and it looked like he was going to say something before thinking better of it. “We should get some sleep.”

“Or...we could do something else.” I rushed the words out before I could let any doubt creep in. His gaze quickly flickered to my mouth as I chewed on my bottom lip nervously.

“Something else?” His voice was barely above a whisper as his eyes moved back to mine.

“It’s just...” I swallowed, trying to gain the courage to say what had been swirling around in the back of my mind all night. “Our first kiss was at school. While being chased by a psychotic werewolf...”

“Yeah.” He breathed, chuckling quietly. “That’s not really how I imagined it.”

I blinked a few times, only just then noticing that we’d been moving closer together this whole time. “We could try again?”

There were only a few inches separating us now. Stiles’ eyelashes fluttered as he leaned forward and connected our lips gently. He tilted his head, slanting his mouth against mine, and I couldn’t help but arch into him as my eyes slid shut. The kiss was timid, just a bunch of barely there caresses as we slowly got more comfortable with each other.

We both pulled away fractionally, our noses still barely touching. I let out a shuddering breath as my anxiety slowly melted away. This was really happening.

“Was that better?” He murmured against me, his warm breath fanning my skin.

“Much.” My hands found the sides of his face and I pulled him back to me, locking our lips together again.

My mouth parted against his as one of his arms snuck around my back to bring me into his chest. His hands trembled against me and I felt my lips tug upward into a small smile, reassured that he was nervous too. I let my fingers trail toward the back of his head and tugged him impossibly closer.

A soft gasp escaped me as one of his hands squeezed at my hip before dragging me on top of him. With my legs on either side of his, I suddenly realized how quickly this was moving and pulled away. My eyes fluttered open just in time to see Stiles pout with a hum of disapproval. He leaned forward to capture my lips again, but froze at the sound of his door being thrown open.

“Oh, dear God. Son, really?”

I scrambled off of him as my eyes landed on his father. He was still wearing his uniform, so he must’ve just gotten back. I smoothed down my clothes and crossed my legs, trying to make myself look more presentable.

“Um. It’s not—uh...what it looks like?” I cringed at that sorry attempt at defusing the situation, and cleared my throat.

“Mr. Stilinski.” I greeted, hoping the twitch of my lips looked more like a smile than a pained grimace.

His eyes narrowed at me before moving to Stiles, who was stiff as a board beside me. “Call me Sheriff. And get to bed.”

With that, he was gone just as suddenly as he’d appeared. I let out a sigh, deflating with exhaustion. I had been through way too much for one day. We shared a quick glance before Stiles turned off the lights.

We crawled beneath his comforter and followed his dad—I mean, the Sheriff’s—advice. Once again, I quickly fell into a peaceful, dreamless sleep.

Episode 7, Part One Episode 8

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friendofhayley · 4 years

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In the midst of chaos, it’s healthy to sometimes soothe ourselves with fiction so thank you, fic writers, for providing us with a safe space. Anyway here’s a list of the best fics I read this month. This rec includes 18 fics from Game of Thrones, One Direction, Teen Wolf, and The Witcher fandoms. The starred ones are *special*

Sanrion (Game of Thrones)

1. A Change of Fate by TheTruffalo | time travel fix-it fic - slow burn - BAMF!Sansa - all the unexpected friendships - 119k+

What would happen if Sansa Stark travelled back in time to the beginning of Game of Thrones? How would she change the future? With her knowledge of the future, marriage to Tyrion Lannister, allegiances to the Targarian Dynasty and lets not forget her tutelage under the notorious Lord Baelish, what will she change? She is not a Little Bird this time, no, now she is a wolf. This time she will come out on top. The question is, who will she bring with her and who will be the collateral? It is all in the days work when playing the Game of Thrones; and she has learned from the best.

2. *The North Remembers* (series) by K_R_Closson, tasalmalin | BAMF!Sansa - the revenge tastes so sweet - time travel fix-it fic - more action than romance - 3 parts

When Sansa and Theon flee Winterfell, they encounter someone who can give Sansa a chance to start over. Sansa has to determine what she can change and what she has to accept to get a future she wants.

Larry (One Direction)

3. haunted by the ghost of you by @missandrogyny | real estate agent Louis - angst and fluff - memory loss - enemies to friends to lovers - 49k

“Hi,” the boy—the ghost—says to Louis. His face shifts; somehow his dimples dig deeper into his cheeks. His eyes flit from Louis, to Niall, to Liam, and finally to Zayn, and his face goes from shocked to elated. “I’m Harry.”

At in that exact moment, standing between three of his best friends and staring at a (quite handsome) ghost, Louis can only think one thing.

Nick Grimshaw was right.

4. I’ve Been Hoping You’d Be Somewhere Better Than This by @runaway-train-works | enemies to lovers - rough sex - unrequited love - Louis is such a bottom brat - 39k

The one where Louis is up for a promotion, he just has one tiny, little problem standing in his way.

5. thinking about the t-shirt you sleep in by @absoloutenonsense | friends to lovers - heavy mutual pining - misunderstandings - fluff and angst - 52k

Harry’s alpha fraternity donates to a local thrift shop (because of Liam’s latent crush on a cute beta in his lecture). Louis’ financial situation (and confusing omega instincts) lead him to make some interesting fashion purchases. Lots of pizza, feelings, and not-really-lying.

6. *What’s It Gonna Be?* by @shesarealphony | GOD TIER FIC - based on this music video - there are lesbians!! - gay found family !! - 35k

Louis and Bebe, best friends since childhood, have crushes on two of the most popular kids in school, and in an attempt to increase their respective chances, Louis befriends Harry Styles, quarterback of the football team, while Bebe befriends Clare Uchima, head cheerleader. Only… the plan… doesn’t go exactly as planned.

Zouis (One Direction)

7. Gravity Always Wins by @writeivywrite | canon - friends to lovers - ot5 - misunderstandings - 17k

The truth is: if they weren’t in a band together, Zayn wouldn’t be friends with someone like Louis.

8. keep you like an oath by @ohnokonecny | strangers to lovers - Louis is a force of nature - American AU - fake relationship - 18k

Zayn doesn’t recognize the man through the peephole, but he looks harmless enough, so Zayn swings the door open, barely able to get out a greeting before,

“Hello, would you be interested in being my boyfriend?” The stranger asks.

“Uh,” Zayn mumbles, looking between the man and the space behind him, waiting for someone to jump out at him and tell him what’s going on. No one does. And the stranger is still grinning at him, blue eyes shining and teeth on full display as he waits. “Who are you?” Zayn finally asks, when the stranger makes no move to give him more information about what’s happening.

Sterek (Teen Wolf)

9. hope is the thing with feathers by @shanastoryteller | author wrote Survival is a Talent and you can tell because it’s amazing - first of a series - BAMF!Stiles - alive Hale family - 28k

Then he’s facing a burning home, and he wraps the hood of his sweatshirt around his mouth before he pushes the door open and steps inside. There’s Mr. Hale asleep - he hopes asleep - on the couch, next to - Stiles thinks that’s his brother but there are so many Hales, who can keep track. He rushes over and starts shaking him, can see the rise and fall of the man’s chest so he knows he’s alive, but he’s not waking up.

He shoves away his hood so he can shout, “Mr. Hale! You have to get up, there’s a fire! Mr. Hale, get up!” Nothing, he’s not even twitching, both of them taking in deep even breaths like they’re having the most peaceful of rests, and Stiles is going to cry. “Wake up, wake up, wake up!”

There’s a moment, where all Stiles can hear is the blood rushing in his ears and not the roar of the flames or the creak of wood, then with a violent, silent pop it’s all back and both of the men are gasping awake, eyes open and jumping to their feet.

10. Every stumble and each misfire by @everchanginginks | future fic - deputy Siles - BAMF!Stiles - soft Derek - 14k

Stiles hasn’t seen or heard from Derek in ten years. It’s a bit of a surprise to find out about Derek’s return to Beacon Hills through Tinder.

11. Hide Of A Life War by @etharei | BAMF!Stiles - Sheriff finds out - suspense - found family - 26k

The one in which Stiles has lived to (legal) adulthood and, along the way, become a bit of a badass himself.

12. Pale Skin and Fragile Bone by fakinbrilliance | BAMF!Stiles - mates - don’t underestimate the Hale pack - found family - 62k

Stiles asks Derek to teach him self-defense.

13. *Sweet Buns* by @pantstomatch | omega Stiles - misunderstandings - pining - Derek is bad at feelings - 17k

Stiles hasn’t seen Derek Hale this close up for over a decade. He looks almost exactly the same, except somehow he seems even bigger and broodier—criminally handsome, with soft-looking dark scruff, heavy brows, light hazel eyes. His gaze zeros in on Stiles almost immediately, and his scowl lightens minutely in what looks like surprise.

Stiles is acutely aware that he has melted butter and cinnamon all over his face, and tries to surreptitiously wipe it with the ends of his sweater-sleeve.

14. The Seven Lives of Stiles Stilinski by @glorious-spoon | angst with a happy ending - pining - time travel - hurt/comfort - 25k

Stiles disturbs an abandoned temple and catches the attention of a goddess of time and fate. When he starts time-traveling involuntarily through the past, he’s not sure if she means it as a curse or a lesson–but no matter when he travels to, he always seems to end up at Derek’s side.

7. *I know that you love me, even when I lose my head* by LunaCapisLupus_22 | amnesia - internalized homophobia - omega Stiles - BAMF!Stiles - 135k

“We’re not mates, Cora,” he insists. “I mean look at him-“

“Ouch,” the kid says, no longer pushing that shit eating grin.

“He’s- he’s,” Derek tries, at a loss of how to explain why this can’t be possible. Why it shouldn’t be possible.

15. Daybreak by TheObsidianQuill | SO much angst with a happy ending - slow burn - BAMF!Stiles - PTSD - 70k

The pack was gone. He had nothing left. He had no one. With nothing to lose, Stiles puts everything on the line to go back in time to try to prevent the future from becoming his past. Broken, guarded, and haunted by his past, only one overgrown-pup of a wolf seems able to get past his defenses. Changing the future? Easy. Finding a place for himself in the Hale Pack? Impossible.

16. *Not Your Disney Romance* by Rawren (Deshonanana) | THIS IS SO GOOD - the perfect mix of crack and angst - disabled Stiles - mind control - 42k

After a long-forgotten agreement of an arranged marriage between Derek and the daughter of another pack’s alpha resurfaces, Stiles takes it upon himself to become the most amazing fake fiancé that a clueless, desperate alpha werewolf could wish for.

Geraskier (The Witcher)

17. Landfall by round_robin | merman Jaskier - soft Geralt - future fic - trust porn - 10k

Geralt spotted Jaskier’s blue breeches neatly folded in the sand by the rock, his boots next to them, doublet unbuttoned and blowing in the wind. Those too blue eyes looked even brighter next to the sea and his heart skipped a beat. “Jaskier,” he sighed. He didn’t know what else to say.

While relief flooded Geralt—Jaskier was alive and well, no evil befell him after Geralt stupidly pushed him away—Jaskier didn’t seem to share his feelings. His lips turned down, shoulders slumped. Finally, he said, “Are you here to kill me?”

18. ‘My Own’ by @valleyofwitcher | creature Jaskier - found family - Kaer Morhen - they’re soft for each other - 43k

Jaskier has been hiding his draconic ‘heritage’ for as long as he could remember. And travelling with Geralt and Ciri, it didn’t seem to be an issue. That is until a notice comes up about hunting dragons.

All of a sudden, everything is thrown into disarray as he has to face feelings and impulses he had been suppressing for years, nothing seems safe anymore. Geralt tries to fix it.

#fic rec #monthly reads #multifandom #sterek #larry #larrie hijinks #the witcher #sanrion #game of thrones #zouis

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queerebrum · 4 years

Text

Your Problem Now

y’know this was supposed to be 1k words. That is my goal for ficlets. And yet, here we are!! Enjoy your 1.7k of Sterrish (Stiles x Derek x Parrish) relationship reflection and sickfic fluff, @wolfflock & the rest of you that encouraged this.

Jordan had just finished putting on his belt when his phone rang on the nightstand. He glanced first at the alarm clock for the time and then back to the phone. Whoever was calling him, it wasn’t Derek, who was usually awake but not yet willing to socialize at this time of day, and it certainly wasn’t Stiles, who was unbearable if woken before 8am.

He reached for the phone and stared at the caller ID with a raised eyebrow. Answering it with a hard swallow he said, “Good morning, Sheriff.”

Calls from the Sheriff were always awkward. Calls from the Sheriff before 7am were downright terrifying. “Jordan, you’re off today,” Noah said, leaving no room for argument.

Jordan blinked a few times. “Okay. Did I do something wrong?” he asked, carefully reviewing memories of the last few days of his shift.

“No. Stiles is sick and I’ve decided that if you’re going to date my eighteen year old son the least you can do is be the one to deal with him when he’s sick.” There was a brief pause. “Or, y’know, the two to deal with him. I’ll let you call Derek. I’m surprised he’s not already at my door, supernatural senses and all.”

Jordan nodded, still frozen in the middle of his bedroom with the phone pressed to his ear. He decided against pointing out to Noah that he too was technically supernatural, and that Derek’s senses weren’t that enhanced. Instead of arguing anything – arguing with either Stilinski was an exhausting and often pointless process – he just said, “I’ll be over as soon as I can.”

“I’m taking one of your sick days for this.” Noah said, his tone lighter.

Jordan laughed at that. “Sure thing, Sheriff.”

‘Stiles is sick I guess? Sheriff says it’s our job to take care of him. See you there?’

Derek yawned and reread the text from Jordan. He grabbed for his half-full cup of coffee and took another long pull, letting the warm, bitter taste settle against his tongue as he mulled over the words.

He had many questions about the content of the text, but the number of question marks seemed to indicate that Jordan too was unsure of exactly what was going on. Derek briefly ran through what he’d planned to get done today.

Which really was nothing he couldn’t put off, because he spent his days as an independently-wealthy 20-something reading books and staring at a blank laptop screen trying to write literally anything that someone might want to read. Sometimes he sat through werewolf council conference calls, which was his duty as the pack Second. Those weren’t really all that more exciting than staring at a blank computer screen, though.

‘Should I bring anything?’ He sent back.

Jordan’s response was: ‘I’m already at Target. What do you know about human illness anyway? :P’ Derek glared at the phone, but Jordan was right. He sat back in his chair, finishing the cup of coffee and climbing to his feet to grab another one from the pot.

Being a werewolf, he knew the coffee was probably just a placebo effect at this point. Both Stiles and Jordan were well aware that waiting until after Derek had his second cup of coffee to interact was the suggested course of action most mornings. It was probably a good thing they didn’t all live together. (Yet.)

Jordan was an early riser, Stiles needed to sleep in, and Derek was a bear (or...a wolf) until he’d had two cups of liquid happiness. It made Derek wonder what their future would look like. Finishing his second cup, he headed to his bedroom with a smile on his face.

It didn’t really matter what his future looked like, as long as he had Jordan and Stiles.

Jordan expected Derek to have beaten him to the Stilinski house, with his overprotective werewolf instincts, but he was surprised to find the driveway empty aside from the old blue Jeep. He pulled up behind it and got out, carrying the bag of odds and ends he’d picked up from Target on the way.

The Sheriff hadn’t said what kind of sick Stiles was, so Jordan had no choice but to pick up a variety of things: cough drops, dayquil, pepto bismol, a box of tissues, several cans of chicken noodle soup and three of the big gatorade bottles. Once, Jordan had purchased a movie, and the look of abject horror on Stiles’s face when he realized Jordan had spent actual money on something like that had dissuaded him from making such mistakes again.

(“Where are we supposed to get movies then?” “The internet, Jord.”)

He carried his bag of supplies - double bagged with the weight of the gatorade and cans of soup - up to the front door and tried the handle. He was surprised to find it unlocked but well, he had told Noah he’d be there as soon as he could. That, and, even sick, he knew better than to underestimate Stiles. He may be human, but that didn’t make him helpless.

“Stiles?” Jordan called, realizing as he entered that he actually had no idea how Noah knew Stiles was sick. It was only just now coming up on 8am, which meant that given normal circumstances, Stiles would still be asleep.

The loud sound of a nose being blown upstairs gave Jordan his answer. Whatever kind of sick Stiles was had probably woken him up. “Ub here.” Stiles called, miserably.

Jordan tried not to laugh as he kicked off his shoes and headed up the stairs, pushing open Stiles’s bedroom door. “A little birdy told me you weren’t feeling well.” He said, dropping onto the corner of the bed. “And...forced me into using a sick day?”

Stiles looked awful. He was even paler than usual, moles looking especially dark against the sickly pallor of his skin. His nose was red and irritated, and he kept sniffling every few minutes. He coughed a few times before he spoke too, small, coughs that seemed to more relieve a tickle than actually dislodge something from his lungs. “My dad called you?”

Jordan took off his jacket and tossed it somewhere in the direction of Stiles’s computer chair before sitting down on the edge of the bed. “Your dad decided that you needed company, I guess.” Jordan couldn’t help the smile that came to his lips as Stiles, seemingly magnetized, fell forward to rest his head on Jordan’s shoulder. Jordan wrapped his arms around Stiles’s body, stroking one hand along his back. “Did he call Derek?” Stiles asked, somewhat muffled between the stuffy nose and his face pressed into Jordan’s shirt.

“No, he told me I could do that. Even made a joke about Derek already knowing you were sick because of werewolf instincts.” Jordan traced the knobs of Stiles’s spine, pressing a kiss to the side of his head. “He’ll be over soon. I think I texted him during his first cup of coffee.” That reminded him. “Did you wake up sick?”

Stiles nodded, halfheartedly, still not lifting his head. “I started coughing in the middle of the night. Woke dad ub.”

Stiles leaned away after he finished speaking, as if saying the word ‘cough’ had manifested the very action itself, tucking his face into the corner of his elbow and letting out a string of bark-like noises that Jordan was now sure didn’t seem productive in the slightest. Sometime in the middle of it, there were footsteps on the stairs, and Jordan glanced back over his shoulder to smile at Derek, whose face was pinched in concern.

“Oh hey–” “–Der, nice of you–” “–to join us.” Stiles managed between coughs, eventually flopping back onto the bed with one of his arms thrown over his eyes. “Fuck.”

Derek had similarly divested himself of his jacket, and he squeezed Jordan on the shoulder briefly as he made his way over to the other side of the bed. Jordan glanced up and smiled, Derek leaning in for a brief, comfortable kiss.

Sometimes, it still mystified Jordan that he was here. He watched Derek sit down on the opposite side of Stiles’s bed, lean over and rest his ear against Stiles’s chest. Jordan felt his smile widen, watching the careful way Derek rested his other arm along Stiles’s, twining their fingers together as he listened.

After a minute, he sat up. “Just wheezy. I think you’ll live.”

Jordan had to bite back a laugh at the malice in the glance Stiles gave Derek when he lifted his arm. “Okay you two.” Jordan nudged Derek’s shoulder with his own. “Be nice, he’s sick.”

“You’re no fun,” Derek teased, but his smile was bright.

Even Stiles’s face had shifted into a smile, and Jordan felt one of his hands – warmer than Stiles usually ran – slid into his own. “I’m glad you’re here.” Stiles said, his eyes heavy-lidded. “I’m gonna go back to sleep though, It’s still so fucking early.”

Jordan lifted Stiles’s hand to his own lips to press a kiss into it. “I brought medicine. You should take something and then you can nap.” He stood up, wandering to where he’d dropped the bag. He rifled through it to find the dayquil and the cough suppressant, tossing one of the Gatorade’s over his shoulder with the full confidence that his werewolf boyfriend would catch it.

He turned around to see Derek crack the gatorade and pass it off to Stiles, who drank from it while Jordan fought with the packaging on the medicine.

And fought.

The damn blister packs were supposed to be childproof not hellhound proof.

Derek was snickering into Stiles’s shoulder, Stiles petting Derek’s hair and biting his lip to hold in his own chuckling. Jordan finally tossed the pack at Derek. “Here, you open it then.”

Derek, ever the show off, flicked out a claw and sliced into the packaging – and directly into the liquid capsule, watching orange-red liquid slide down his finger, sending Jordan into a laughing fit and Stiles into yet another coughing fit.

Several minutes later, Derek’s hands were clean, Stiles had been adequately medicated, and they were all snuggled down into Stiles’s bed for what Jordan suspected would be the first of several naps today. Stiles was on his side, his back pressed along the length of Derek’s chest. Jordan faced Stiles, one if his arms tucked over both of his boyfriends, and his forehead pressed against the sleepy humans.

“Love you.” Stiles murmured quietly. Derek whispered it against the back of Stiles’s neck and reached over to squeeze Jordan’s side. Jordan grinned, more thankful than he could have predicted for the day off.

“Love you both.”

#stiles stilinski #derek hale #jordan parrish #sterrish #idk what the actual ship name is #but that's what I've elected it is #derekjordanstiles #teen wolf #my fic #ficlets #minific #teen wolf fanfiction #sickfic #fluff #polyamory #ss #dh #jp

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thedaughterofkings · 5 years

Text

Hypothermia

Written for @sterekweek2019 Day 3: Outdoors!

“This was a shitty idea,” Stiles mutters. His teeth chattering is the only reaction he gets.

Then of course it had been Jackson’s idea, so really, Stiles should have known better than to let himself be goaded into this.

This being spending a night in the preserve, alone, without a fire or any other means of keeping warm.

Stiles has seriously underestimated how cold it gets at night out here.

And he has severely overestimated how well he knows the preserve.

In the search for some place that would offer him at least a little shelter if not some warmth, he has gone too far off the paths and is now completely and utterly lost. At least Scott knows where he is - roughly - so if Stiles doesn’t make it to school on Monday, he’ll sound the alarm.

Because yes, Stiles was extra dumb and decided to do this on a Friday night, telling his dad he was staying with Scott and not telling Scott as much. If he had told Scott, Scott would have wanted to come along - his need to prove himself might even outdo Stiles’ own feelings of inadequacy and he wouldn’t have wanted Stiles to be alone either way, but Stiles might be dumb (as evidenced by his current predicament), but he’s not dumb enough to take his best friend with severe asthma into the woods in the middle of the night to get lost and die.

That’s certainly what it feels like right now. He��s so cold that he can’t feel his toes anymore and some of his fingers have lost their feeling as well. If he remembers his biology lessons correctly, the next to go are his ears and then he’ll lose his nose. That will really make Lydia look at him.

A strange sound makes him jump. It almost sounded like a howl, but there haven’t been any wolves in California for almost a hundred years, so it must have just been the wind. Still, Stiles tries to step extra lightly as he continues walking. He has decided to forgo looking for shelter - keeping awake and moving seems to be his best bet now, even though he has no idea where he’s going. When the sun comes up again, he’s going to choose a cardinal direction and go that way, but for now he goes where the forest leads him - along the path of the least resistance.

Nevermind the road less travelled - if Stiles wants to get out of here without a broken neck he’s going to follow whatever paths he can find in the darkness. This one seems to be well used - not by humans, but by something big nevertheless, probably deer.

‘Or wolves,’ his brain helpfully suggests and Stiles scoffs out loud. The sound echoes through the silent trees and Stiles comes to a stop immediately, chiding himself internally. There might not be any wolves in these woods, but that doesn’t mean nothing here could harm Stiles. Over the last few years, the reports of mountain lions have become more frequent for example.

When nothing attacks him, Stiles slowly starts to move again, starting with a full body shiver. He should have at least worn a thicker sweater.

Under his feet, leaves crunch with every step, despite Stiles’ best efforts to tread lightly. He strains his ears to hear any noise above the one he makes himself, but the woods are silent around him.

Too silent.

The thought has only just crossed his mind when a dark shadow jumps out of the underbrush and Stiles stumbles backwards with a scream. He catches a glimpse of white fangs and electric blue eyes and then his head smacks against a tree and he knows no more.

~*~

Warm fur and then suddenly warm skin.

Stiles slowly forces his eyes open and comes face to, well, not face, but very well developed pecs.

“Oh, Derek, what did you do?” asks a woman and then Stiles can’t keep his eyes open anymore. The last thing he feels before oblivion takes him again is a hand curving around his head and the headache that had pounded there dissipating.

~*~

The next time Stiles wakes up, it’s slowly. The first thing he notices is how warm he is. He stays in that half state between asleep and awake for a while, keeping his eyes firmly closed and his brain firmly shut off.

At least until a female voice says: “Wakey, wakey, sleeping beauty!”

Stiles grunts and then slowly opens his eyes, squinting carefully until his eyes have adjusted to the low, flickering light the campfire next to him gives off. Across from him sits a woman - a very naked woman.

Stiles slams his eyes shut again.

“Am I dead?” he asks and the woman snorts.

“Not yet, but we can remedy that, if you want to.”

Behind him, Stiles’ warm pillow huffs and he jerks upwards with a gasp, eyes wide open again. Curled around him is a huge, black wolf and Stiles suddenly realises why he’s so comfortably warm.

“Oh shush, Derek, you know I was just joking,” the woman says - to the wolf apparently, who huffs again and then shifts until its head is on Stiles’ lap. Stiles freezes and suddenly doesn’t know where to put his hands.

“He likes to have his ears scratched,” the woman supplies helpfully and Stiles grimaces at her wildly. He’d add in a few choice gestures, but he is half-convinced he’s going to get his hands bitten off - or worse any second now, so quick movements are out for the moment.

“Please, he’s a total teddy bear,” the woman scoffs, and then adds, again directed at the wolf: “Aren’t you, Derbear?”

That provokes another snarl from the wolf and Stiles has to concentrate really hard to keep his breathing somewhat calm and even when faced with so many teeth near his crotch.

“Who the hell are you?” he hisses, and then adds, almost despite himself: “There are no wolves in California!”

It sounds desperate even to his own ears.

“You aren’t wrong there,” the woman says, smiling serenely. “But we’re not just wolves, so I guess the statistics still work. Werewolves do so seldomly turn up in those.”

“You’re what?” Stiles gasps and the woman blinks and upon opening her eyes again, they suddenly burn bright red.

“Werewolves,” she repeats and then gestures to Stiles’ cuddle partner. “That’s Derek and I’m Laura. Now who are you and what were you doing that far into the preserve in the middle of the night?”

But Stiles barely even hears her anymore. Those names ring a bell, a strong one. He’s sure he’s heard them before, that he knows them, but it takes a moment until his brain offers up an explanation.

“Laura and Derek? Not Laura and Derek Hale? You should be dead!”

“Werewolves,” Laura says with a shrug, as though that should be explanation enough, and Stiles guesses it is.

“Wait, was your family killed by werewolves? Is that how you got bitten? Did you kill them?” Stiles asks, his question almost tumbling one over the other as his heart speeds up at the thought that he might be alone with two murderers. Next to him, Derek growls and Stiles’ heart attempts to beat out of his chest.

“No!” Laura insists, looking rattled for the first time since Stiles woke up. “We weren’t bitten, we were born this way into a family of werewolves and hunters burnt the rest of us alive just for the crime of having been born!”

Stiles gapes at her. Hunters? There had been rumours that the Hale fire hadn’t been entirely accidental, but his dad had always assured him there had been no hard evidence for that, and the arson specialist had ruled it an accident anyways. But if what Laura has said is true, then it was murder. Premeditated, cold blooded murder.

While his brain is running wild with possible scenarios, Stiles watches silently as Laura visibly controls herself, taking deep breaths until she is calm and smiling again.

“But enough about us, who are you, stranger?” she asks and although there’s a smile on her face, Stiles can’t help but think that if he answers this one wrong, he’s really going to be in hot water. Now if he only knew what the wrong answer was!

In the end he goes with the truth - who knows what kind of abilities a werewolf has! Perhaps she can smell when he’s lying.

“I’m Stiles,” he says. “Stiles Stilinski. My dad’s the Sheriff.”

He doesn’t add anything else, but Laura’s raised eyebrow and Derek’s huff show that the implied threat has been received loud and clear.

“And what were you doing in the middle of the preserve in the middle of the night, oh son of the Sheriff?” Laura asks, eyes twinkling and Stiles blushes.

“I - it was a dare,” he admits after a moment of hesitation. “And then I got lost. And then someone jumped me and knocked me out. At least I’m not dying of hypothermia anymore.”

There’s some movement next to him and when Stiles turns, he comes face to face with a very naked Derek Hale, who is glaring at him.

“I did not jump you,” he says and Stiles squawks.

“You so did! I thought you were going to kill me! I saw my life pass before my eyes!”

“Can’t have taken long, what are you, twelve?”

“I’m seventeen!” Stiles insists and has to admit, sounds rather like a twelve year old while doing so. Derek seems to think so, too, because a smile plays at the corner of his mouth. Stiles tries to remain appropriately outraged, but this entire situation is too ridiculous and he starts giggling. There’s a certain amount of hysteria in his laughter, but that slowly dissipates, leaving just pure hilarity behind, especially once Derek and finally Laura start laughing, too.

“I’m sorry I scared you,” Derek apologises once they’ve all calmed down again. “I mean, I did want to scare you, scare you away from our den, but I didn’t want to hurt you.”

“And instead of keeping me out of your den, you brought me into it.” Stiles shakes his head mockingly. “You are a total failwolf, aren’t you?”

“I’ll show you failwolf,” Derek threatens and snarls at Stiles. It’s obviously playful rather than truly threatening, but Stiles still gulps. Those fangs look very sharp.

“Speaking of injuries,” Laura interjects and Stiles guiltily looks back at her. He’d completely forgotten her presence. There’s a twinkle in her eyes that says she noticed as much and Stiles feels his cheeks heating up again. Next to him Derek shifts, but Stiles studiously avoids looking at him. “How are you feeling, Stiles? No headache or anything?”

“No, I’m actually feeling fine.” Stiles is surprised himself; sure, there are some scrapes and aches, but nothing really concerning.

“I’m glad,” Derek says and sounds honestly relieved. Stiles smiles at him and they just sit there grinning dumbly at each other until Laura clears her throat.

“I’m sorry, but we have to talk about what we are going to do now.”

If that doesn’t sound ominous.

“If killing me because I now know your secret, I strongly object,” Stiles says and Laura rolls her eyes.

“No one’s killing anyone here, seriously, Stiles. I’m a werewolf not a rabid lap dog! No, I’m talking about how you’re going to get home and what that means for us.”

“Do you not know the way back to Beacon Hills either?” Stiles asks before his brain catches up. “Oh you mean because everyone thinks you are dead!”

Laura rolls her eyes again and Stiles sheepishly ducks his head.

“You don’t need to worry about that, though,” he promises earnestly. “No one even knows I’m in the Preserve and definitely no one ever needs to know I got lost, so if you can just bring me close enough to Beacon Hills, I can find my way home without anyone ever having to see you or know about you. And I promise I won’t tell.” He hesitates and then adds:

“But if you want to return, I’ll help you with that. I’m sure my dad would be happy to help, too.”

Neither of the Hales says anything and Stiles bites his lips nervously. When the silence drags on for far too long, Stiles decides he might as well go all in and says: “I think you should consider it. You deserve more than just a cave in the woods. And well, also for a very selfish reason - I’d hate to keep trudging through the woods for hours to meet you.”

“You don’t want to run away screaming?” Derek asks and sounds honestly surprised, which frankly breaks Stiles’ heart.

“God no! This is the coolest thing that has ever happened in my life! You guys are werewolves! That is so awesome! And I really like you, too, you both.” Stiles can feel his cheeks burning and he studiously avoids looking at either of them. Next to him Derek sits stock still, while Laura shifts opposite of them. Some silent conversation seems to be taking place, because after a short while, Laura finally speaks up:

“Thank you, Stiles, we’ll have to think about it. It’s - it’s not easy, but I promise we’ll talk about it and really consider it. And we really like you, too, both of us,” she adds, eyes twinkling.

“How about I show you where I live and perhaps if you’re feeling up for it we can have a talk with my dad, and then, when you’re ready, you know where to go?” Stiles offers and is relieved when Laura nods.

“That sounds like a plan,” she says and then grins, teasing: “But what is your dad going to say when he hears you invited the big bad wolf into your home, little red riding hood?”

“He certainly won’t go get his axe, if you’re worried about that,” Stiles retorts. “At least neither of you has asked me to crawl into your bed!”

“Yet,” Laura says and next to Stiles Derek falls into a fit of coughing.

Stiles sighs and pounds on his back helpfully while glaring at Laura who is looking rather unapologetic. At least this is going to make a better story to tell the grandkids than dying of hypothermia.

And it’s only just the beginning.

You can find all of my Sterekweek fics here!

More full shift Derek can be found here (feral Derek) and here (cuddly wolf Derek) and more Laura can be found for example here (Neckz'n'Throats AU), here (Stiles meets the Hales in NYC under very suspicious circumstances), and here (S1 if Peter never attacked Laura)

Happy reading!

#sterekoutdoors #Sterekweek2019 #Sterek #teen wolf #eternalsterek #my fic #my Sterek fic #my Sterekweek fic #wow this is late #but at least it's finally finished #happy reading!

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teenwolfhot · 4 years

Text

Cried enough tears isaac lahey imagine part 9

" I'm not done yet " katherine didn't like this blood wasn't supposed to be spilled this much " we leave now by chance they'll will comr after us especially....." screaming

" fine ..... so be it for now but we need to do something about the girl " katherine chuckled " she's a lost cause anyways she's a monster i can't wait for her so called firends to eventually deal with our kind " katherine getting in the car " plus the old man is dead three bullet wounds to the chest ..... we will come back i need to speak to our hostage anyways " kate was reluctant but dropped the rifle and got in the car

" his not responding..... gerard....gerard " braeden was shaking him " we have to go too much blood his losing " Derek lifting him up " get the car "

Everyone was very reluctant to move but someone life was on the line " and call melissa maybe she can help saving his life "

As everyone drove to beacon hills memorial isaac got a text from allison " guys is allison she found out about the mikaelson and its not good " looking up everyone was on edge " tell the girls meet at argent place and tell them to gear up "

------------------------

Meanwhile kol was thinking how to tell you that you're not ordinary anymore because your new and alot stronger " so what are we going to eat ?"Smiling at the young mikaelson " how about burger and fries i know a place " dropping a text to Elijah and klaus about their whereabouts

" so you going to tell me who's the brunette girl that held me hostage and why she was with my supposedly dead firend aunt " in the car kol rolled his eyes " all in due time for now you been through alot and i want you to enjoy freedom for now shall we " using the same old mikaelson charm

You know kol isn't telling you the whole truth what you want to know is why you were kidnapped since your human " soo what's this special place that you find kol " as his pulled up

" this place makes killer bugers and amazing icecream "

As kol went to seek a chair he got a text

( don't move we may have some complications her firends may have some information on us , keep an eye were heading up so stay alert even the salvatore are here )

Shoving the phone in his pocket he started to rumble " so you going to tell me who texted you " standing in front of him " it was my brother .... he wanted to meet you " a bit sketchy but by pass as headed into the cafe

----------------------------------

Elena didn't like that katherine got an innocent girl into her plans " stefan .... do we have a location?" Looking at her ex lover " we do bonnie tracked her down but we don't know how this girl is going to react especially when she's not alone " elena sits up " what do you mean not alone " damon walks in " oh brother do tell her...please tell her its driving me crazy "

" the mikaelson have her especially a raging physco kol mikaelson " damon smirked while drinking bourbon " what do they want with this girl " elena is confused about this situation " how does she fit in i don't understand... katherine wouldn't go through all this trouble for a girl .. even if she's human " the salvatore brothers were right katherine would bolt the moment she found out the mikaelson were in town

" unless its not the girl she's interested in what about her firends " which Jeremy got everyone thinking " i think its high time we visited this girl "

Matt and Jeremy fist pumped in the air " no no no .... no humans a big mistake one drop of your blood sends the mikaelson crazy "

" Elijah.... " damon looks at elena " no absolutely no elena we can't trust him like last time remember he tried to kill you..... no "

" damon im a vampire no im not a pathetic human like i use to be plus bonnie and caroline will be with me " caroline rolled her eyes " fine as if i had a choice " the blond walked out

" what is everyone problem?"

" its the mikaelson and a human elena " matt heading out to seek caroline

" gear up vampire slayer....I'll call Rick about the plan if we go we need backup i dont want a bloodbath understand " as stefan imforms everyone elena is frustrated about the while situation while damon looking at her " what is it elena do you in tend to find with this human.... by now she would what be food to katherine or dead ... even worst a vampire herself " elena wad thinking all those scenarios but katherine plans didn't add up

--------------------

Argent place

" we have a major problem " flinging the flies on the table " we have no chance against them noting " lydia sitting across from kira while malia didn't know what to say " what do you mean ?" The girls didn't know how to tell the guys what they've found so lydia fling opened the file

" everything we know about them is in this file and this " placing down stake " not any old eops stake Stiles.... white oak steak " silence came " did you guys seek (y/n) " stiles " shes missing again "

" what if she's not missing " liam piped up for the first time " what do you mean ?" Mason didn't like this " earlier this evening me and liam were with some of our firend and we surely saw (y/n) with someone " argent sighed" do you so happens to see who she was with Dunbar " derek eyeing the boy Liam looked at the file " him.... definitely him " pointing to kol mikaelson

"She looked happy " mason add " that's great one of our firends is with what a family that sucks life out of a person by draining their blood .... more so she was kidnapped and no shes what with the enemy " stiles voice was booming across the whole house

" right lets get reading in gonna call melissa check on gerard....meanwhile we needs to find something else other than white oak to kill this monsters " argent turning to the kitchen while braeden headed to call her firends on intel on mikaelson and derek headed to the computers

------------------------------

" so kol hows the little one then ?" Klaus starring out to the lawn while everyone was thinking of a plan

" sooo we have a newbie .... katherine intentions are unknown.... McCall his up to something i can feel it " klaus turning to his family " what will a bunch of school children do klaus " Rebekah don't underestimate them they've got more than humans "

The blond caught on " another supernatural in beacon hills ..... thats why katherine here to seek teenagers who's powers are unknown " kol laughed

" not unknown sister.... the McCall boy is a werewolf and we have a banshee including a family of hunters dating back to our human time " Rebekah didn't like that her family are fighting with a group of people whose powers are unknown

" sooo we found out about them ... use their weaknesses against them .... why we waiting for "

Suddenly walking out " sorry to intervene but .... i was wondering if i could get spare cloths and .... maybe food " standing there timidly " hi sorry to wake you im Elijah..." smiling at him " i belive you met my younger brother kol " you nodded

" how about we all go find food and get to know each other shall we " smiling Rebekah was a little judgey on you but she can sense you aren't going nowhere

Heading inside the house klaus got sense kol haven't told you everything klaus pulled kol aside and closed the door while freya saw and got you comfortable while kol and klaus talked

" does she know kol?" Looking at his brother " no she doesn't know .... especially she's blind to the supernatural world " sighing " i doubt her firends told her anything about this especially when i found her she barely....klaus this is more than just one girl .... its her firends especially when we've been at her house and her parents know what we look like " immediately klaus throws a vase " YOU DON'T KNOW THAT I'VE BEEN BUSY WITH PLANS .... PLANS TO NOT GET US KILLED OR WORST " freya step outside " sorry to intrude but ummmmm we all can hear you and the girl she asking why every time she looks at the sun it hurts "

Elijah sneaks in " her transition is finish she needs a daylight ring freya get her one " the girl nodded " ummmmm " freya paused " her name .... " kol rolled his eyes " (y/n) ( l/n) she likes the colour (y/f/c) and she's super intelligent " looking at you talking to finn unbeknownst to you about the shock when they tell you

----------------

Katherine and kate were fighting for two hours " THIS ISN'T GOING ANYWHERE.... WE NEED TO FIND THE GIRL .... SHE HAS MY BLOOD IN HER VAINS ... " katherine pulling out bullets while Kate was painfully healing

" fine we start at her school .... better yet maybe her house " katherine wants to find everything about you and why you matter "

#isaac x reader #isaac lahey imagine #isaac lahey #teen wolf series #teen wolf imagines

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hazelandglasz · 5 years

Note

"I meet and fall in love with you in every lifetime at the same age but your age is always different so it never works out and for the first time I’m meeting you when we’re the same age and I’m horrified that I might fuck this up." Sterek with Derek as the one who's always the same age *w*

On AO3

Derek is 20 when he meets Stiles for the first time.

Derek is always 20 whenever he meets Stiles after that moment, until now.

But let’s catch them at the start, shall we?

Earth 745, Year 1650

Derek rides into the forest, his battle wolf happily howling at being allowed to run so freely.

“Steady, steady.”

The forest is always Derek’s favorite place to run and hunt. The spirits welcome him as one of their own and light up his way, but other creatures are not as welcoming.

If Derek came today, it’s because his Queen heard about a rumor.

A worrying one.

That Sparks have settled on the edge of their forest, using the spirits and the kingdom’s resources.

Triskel comes to an halt, muzzle raised in the air to sniff it.

“Aroo?”

Derek pats her neck to calm her, closing his eyes to visualize what she sensed.

Sparks are definitely moving around this area.

No aggression in their feelings.

Just … settlement.

There is a particularly strong Spark that seems to lead them.

There!

Derek opens his eyes, glowing just as red as Triskel’s, and they both turn them toward the entrance of the meadow.

Where a Spark stands, arms crossed over his chest.

In Wolf years, he looks to be just a bit younger than Derek, but Derek has been raised, taught, better than that.

Sparks may be a unique brand of Spirits, but they still belong in their family of beings.

A Wolf lifetime barely counts as a Revolution for a Spark.

This one may look young, but his age must already be in the three numbers range.

The power exuding from his fingertips is proof enough.

“You’re on private property,” Derek calls, keeping his hands on Triskel’s neck.

The Spark sends a half-crooked smile his way. “This land was Spark land long before you lot bonded with the first pup.”

Triskel hums under Derek’s touch, leaning her massive head toward the spark.

“But I’m not here to escalate an argument with you, your highness,” the Spark says more gently and more seriously.

“Why are you here, then?”

“To offer an alliance between our packs.”

Derek blinks at the offer. Legends about Sparks do not depict them as a fraternizing lot, even less helpful than Foxes and Hunters. “An alliance?”

“Quid pro Quo, my prince,” the Spark says, stepping closer. The grass curbs in front of his naked feet, and though there is no wind, his brown hair moves gently in an invisible breeze. “You let us stay where we settled, we protect the Eastern border of the Kingdom, everybody wins.”

“How do we know you won’t betray us at the first chance?”

“Please,” the Spark says, blowing air at Derek. “We may be powerful, but you Wolves have the strength to disseminate us. I quite like living, thank you very much, especially with all my limbs still attached to my body.”

Derek unconsciously drags his eyes down the Spark’s slender frame and can’t help but nod.

It would be a shame to hurt this particular body.

“I’m but the prince,” he finally answers, refusing to acknowledge either the heat he can feel on his cheeks or the smirk on the Spark’s face. “I cannot sign a treaty of this magnitude.”

“And I am not my pack’s leader,” the Spark replies. “Let’s consider each other as intermediaries for our people.”

“I will still need some proof of your trustworthiness.”

“How about a blood pact?”

“That would work.”

“Here,” the Spark says, bringing his wrist to his lips and biting, tearing the glowing skin and letting a droplet of bluish blood run down his forearm. Derek dismounts from Triskel, mirroring the Spark’s gesture, before bringing his wrist to the Spark’s.

Their bloods mix, and for a second, their attached wrists glow golden.

Triskel whines, breaking the enchantment that took over Derek for a moment.

“Bonded,” the Spark says with a beaming smile. “I can’t hurt you and you can’t hurt me.”

“I suppose I could give you my name now.”

“That’s called manners, your highness.”

“Call me Derek.”

“Call me--” the Spark starts, but the sound that follows does not belong in a Wolf’s throat.

Derek’s confusion must be obvious, as the Spark lets out a burst of laughter.

“Call me Stiles, then.”

“What’s a Stiles?”

“A me,” Stiles replies, licking his wrist clean. “Only one of me.”

Somehow, Derek does not doubt him for a second.

When Death comes for Derek, once his hair and beard have turned white, once his face is covered in more lines than a tree, when his eyes close on a smile, Stiles is still by his side, leaning forward to whisper in his ear.

“See you in the next life, big guy.”

xxxxxx

Earth 504, Year 52

Somehow, when Derek turns three, he knows.

He knows that he was a prince, he knows that he’s on a new cycle, and he knows …

He knows that he has to find Stiles for this life to be worth living.

That is a pretty hard concept to formally have in a three-year-old mind, but the idea is there to stay.

Though what Stiles will look like and how they will meet is a mystery.

When Derek turns twenty, he meets Stiles.

More precisely, he meets flight instructor Stilinski.

Though Stiles is a dragon rider in this life, wrinkles around his eyes and mouth signaling his propensity to smile and laugh, Derek has no doubt that this Stiles is his Stiles.

“The young Alpha worships you, Stiles,” he overhears a conversation between Stiles and Master Martin.

Stiles laughs. “He’s a good kid. Will be one hell of a rider some day.”

“I think he has a crush on you.”

“Can you blame him?” Stiles gestures at himself and through his embarrassment, Derek feels a surge of fondness for Stiles, from their past camaraderie.

“I’m serious, Stiles.” Master Martin swats at Stiles’ shoulder. “You need to be careful with him. Don’t go and break his heart.”

Stiles opens his mouth, eyes glaring in offense before he lets it all out in a sigh. “All I want is for Derek to be happy.”

“I know that. Be his tutor, be his friend.”

“I will.”

When Spark falls under a vicious attack, his rider as good as dead on his back, Derek can only let Triskel follow them into the Darkness.

“See you in the next life, Stiles.”

xxxxxx

Life after life after life, Derek gets reunited with Stiles.

Whenever they meet, their bond is reignited and they remain by each other’s side until one of them moves onto the next life.

Life after life, Derek remembers all of their common pasts, too.

And as much as Stiles can be annoying, frustrating, too bright for his own good, Derek finds himself drawn to him, life after life after life.

In this life, though, Derek has almost met Stiles when he was just a bit younger.

In this life, he’s fifteen when he feels Stiles in his proximity, but at the time, his family just got decimated and he can’t find it in his heart to make the move toward that connection.

But the presence he feels is young, just a bit younger than him but not by a wide margin.

For the first time ever, it’s even a relatively small gap that separates them, age-wise.

Not that he dwells on it at the time, consumed by grief, rage and shame as he is.

But they do meet when Derek is twenty.

“You’re on private property.”

He may be scowling, but in his mind, Derek allows himself to be sentimental.

Maybe it is Fate that brought us together, making him repeat his words from their first encounter on the life where they have a real chance of bringing this relationship to another level.

A thought which is immediately followed by, “I’m going to fuck this up”.

---

The pull toward Stiles is just as irresistible as it always is, but Derek resists.

He knows he will, can, fuck this up, damage Stiles and perhaps break the bonds that has lasted through centuries.

With the many life of retrospects he has on their lives together, Derek is convinced that the first Stiles, the Spark, the magical being, created that bond to make sure they would meet again.

To get a chance to be together, as lovers.

But if there is one thing this life has taught Derek, it’s his propensity to fuck things up beyond repair.

Especially relationships.

Especially the people he loves.

The last thing he wants is to hurt Stiles.

The next to last thing he wants is to lose Stiles.

His life is a fucking conundrum and he hates it.

---

And then, Stiles saves his life.

Derek has to admit, he didn’t see it coming.

As they manage to stay afloat in the pool while the kanima prowls its edges, Derek allows himself a moment to consider that really, this is a repetition of their first shared lifetime.

After all, despite his frail appearance, Stiles the Spark did save Derek the Wolf prince many, many times.

This time around, Stiles’ fragility is a calculated ploy to deceit people into underestimating him.

Derek admires this wit more than he would like to admit.

Falling in love with Stiles is just as easy as breathing, but Derek remains terrified.

Not of hurting Stiles, because fight after fight, Stiles proves how strong and resilient he really is, but of, again, fucking everything up.

---

Until the Berserkers.

Until his full shift.

Because managing to push his shift to this extreme, reconnecting with his mom, with his powers, with himself, brings Derek to one conclusion.

He may have found his balance, but in order to be complete, he needs Stiles by his side.

In a more permanent way than simply being “here”.

Once the decision has settled in his mind, there is no more room in Derek for fear, uncertainty and doubt.

Only focus on making it become a reality.

Because now, Derek knows how to avoid a fuck-up.

AKA, How to Woo a Stiles 101.

Going all out and romantic would just freak him out, that much Derek is sure of, no matter how much Stiles may be, is, attracted to him.

But by going in small, subtle touches--getting the pizza he likes, wear comfortable and unthreatening (yet flattering) cloth, creating a safe environment--Derek slowly manages to get closer to Stiles.

Even that would be enough, if he’s honest to himself: having Stiles close, close enough to touch, to smell, to protect.

That’s where he is in his thoughts one evening, when Stiles is the only one left in the Pack’s loft, the pizza has been reduced to its crust and neither one of them knows what is playing on the TV anymore.

Stiles laughs at something silly Derek just said, and with a contented sigh, drops his head to Derek’s shoulder.

And Derek freezes.

And Stiles looks up, long eyelashes slowly revealing his beautiful brown eyes..

Derek stays still.

And Stiles considers him, a wall wrinkle apparating between his eyebrows before it clears out.

Derek stays still, still.

Stiles slowly leans upward, his breath tickling Derek’s neck until his lips meet Derek’s cheek.

It all happens in slow motion, and Derek stays still.

Stiles straightens up, still focused on Derek, before cupping Derek’s face in his hands.

A golden light appears in his eyes, taking over the ring surrounding his pupils.

Derek gasps, just as Stiles leans forward.

Their lips could be touching, barely kept apart, as Stiles smiles.

“Hello again, big guy.”

Before pulling Derek in for a long, long-awaited kiss.

------

Same Earth, same year, some months later

“You knew?”

“I don’t know. Not knew, knew.”

“Nyunyu?”

Stiles rubs his nose against Derek’s stomach before blowing a raspberry there. “All those lives, I never knew for sure. I had a, a …”

“A feeling?”

“An instinct, yeah.”

Derek sighs, his fingers tangled in Stiles’ hair. “I’m glad we found each other in this life.”

“I hope we’ll find each other in the next.”

“Me too.”

“Though the later the better.”

“My thoughts exactly.”

#nothingcanbreakthemapart #sometimes i write #sterek au #but is it really au though #soulmates #fluff

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wheredidhiseyebrowsgo · 5 years

Note

Thank you for opening it again! I‘m looking for some alpha!derek and magical!stiles fics were they life together and the pack calls them mum and dad. I hope there is one. Thank you for your hard work! :)

Here’s pack mom!Stiles, magic!Stiles and alpha!Derek. - Anastasia

Jackson Whittemore is more than just a kanima (or so does Stiles say) by graveltotempo

(1/1 I 1,850 I Not Rated)

Jackson is worried about something, and Stiles is there for him.

A Typical Day by ReindeerGamesofMischief

(2/? I 2,762 I General)

Stiles was busy. He was baking his cake and in the beginning stages of making dinner. But the Puppies don't care about that. Oh no…they all have their own problems and need help. Help that only Stiles can give. Too bad he's busy cooking, it'll take an Alpha to snap him out of his cooking mood.

Family Unit by AsagiStilinski

(1/1 I 8,851 I Teen)

So werewolf symposiums are a thing

That's a thing that exists, it's happening, it's in the world now

And Stiles doesn't know what in the name of hell he did to deserve this

("It's a mixed supernatural convention Stiles, not a 'werewolf symposium'!"")

Never Leave by theskywalkerkid

(10/? I 12,235 I Mature)

After getting kicked out the pack by his friends after a battle, Stiles goes to Poland and studies to become a mage. Now a mage and back in BH for senior year, he tries to avoid his "friends" except for Kira and Liam. Also a certain sourwolf seems to miss him a little too much and won't leave Stiles alone after he finds out he's back. It's a Sterek.

Ink Stained Hands by xxjinchuurikixx

(1/1 I 14,582 I Mature)

The moment the spell breaks, Stiles feels every rune in his skin turn cool and then dim, like fiery embers that have had water quickly rushed upon them. His head is spinning, and he blinks, once, then all his strings are cut, and he collapses.*In which Stiles has magic, tattoos, and an irritating crush on Derek.And Derek is just Derek.

The Aftermath by TakenByEmrys

(6/6 I 18,350 I Teen)

After being kidnapped by Gerard, Stiles is left broken and beaten. That's when Derek finds him. Two months later, Scott realizes he might have let some things slide, and when he goes to visit Stiles, he's more than shocked to find his bed filled with werewolves. Sterek

Hold Me Close (I'm Falling Apart) by ajeepandleather

(9/9 I 25,093 I Teen)

“Wolves without an emissary are naturally turbulent because their instincts are wild. Subconsciously, you’ve been balancing them, but you aren’t tied to the pack so you aren’t getting a balance in return.”

“So, they’re bleeding me dry. Always knew they were parasites.” Stiles smiled dryly.

“You’ll need to attach yourself to an alpha soon. There are risks for an unbalanced druid.”

“Like?”

“Well, a disruption in balance may show itself in several ways. It’s a disruption in nature, so nature will twist and alter in an attempt to right itself.”

“What does that mean?” Stiles was getting anxious. The vet was avoiding giving direct answers and that never meant anything good.

“You’re magic is heavily entwined with your will, and your will is parallel to your mind.”

“I’ll go insane.”

Take Me Back by RobinRider

(10/? I 30,229 I Mature I MCD)

Trauma can damage a person’s memories. Laura was murdered, Scott was murdered and Stiles witnessed it all, the only problem is no one believes a Werewolf was the cause. Released from Eichen House Stiles turns to the only person who lost as much as him that fateful night, Derek Hale. Stiles will stop at nothing to find the person or thing that killed his best friend. The pack will stop at nothing to help their Alpha find his sister's killer and keep Stiles safe along the way.

Stiles believes a Werewolf killed his best friend but everyone thinks he’s crazy. Derek and the Pack help him find the killer and a family.

No Rest For The Wicked (Love is Kind) by midnightcas

(11/11 I 31,328 I General)

When a homeless, scared for his life, kid attempts to hold up Stiles Stilinski's bakery, the last thing he expected was to be offered a muffin...or a job...."I have a feeling that you don’t want to be a felon on the run from the cops your whole life. Especially over such a stupid thing like robbing a bakery. Murder I’d get, but this?”

“Well," his eyes fall to the gun, "I might murder you.”

Stiles swallowed.

Pulling the Pieces Together by fireflystiles (cuddlehazz)

(1/1 I 34,295 I Teen)

“You never have hurt anyone. Not then and not now. You just made Coach piss his pants and that’s funny shit there.” Jackson told Stiles. They all underestimated how responsible Stiles felt for the Nogitsune and what happened. No wonder he was afraid to go near the pack, not to mention the whole no control over magic thing. He felt Stiles huff out a breath at the part about Coach which was a good start.

Or after the Nogitsune, Stiles keeps secrets, there are new people in Beacon Hills, and the Pack has fallen apart. Stiles starts to figure out his role in the pack, piecing it back together, and trying to keep everyone safe.

We Are Bonded by lightsfillthesky

(!5/20 I 42,577 I Mature)

Derek rose to true alpha status, He started creating his own pack after years of alliances and fighting, they where all well known throughout the West coast, some feared them, other were envious but they all respected the Hale Pack.

Everything seemed to be going fine in their lives, Derek and Stiles were going to get married, the pack was established, but Stiles well he knew when things were good something bad was bound to happen and boy he did not imagine this.

The Pack’s Dad by Isys Luna Skeeter (IsysSkeeter)

(16/? I 45,369 I Teen)

All Stiles wanted was to lose his virginity, he got that… he just hadn’t expected what would come with it…

Unlikely Guardian by Trenchcoat Hunter (Reedt)

(25/25 I 67,903 I Teen)

“Shut it you two! It’s the first hint we’ve had in five years! McCall, call Lydia and Allison. Tell them to get their notes from high school and kits here while the trail is still warm. I’m calling Danny to see if he can do any tech sweeps of the area to see if he can find anything.” Derek’s eyebrows rose in surprise. Lydia and Allison rarely get called in with their kits and considering that neither Isaac nor Scott even blinked at the orders showed just how serious they all were, especially Jackson it seemed. “Isaac, can you follow his scent?”

“I’ve been trying but it’s so faint and the wolves are overpowering. I’ve got to be careful or I’m going to miss it.”

“Don’t lose it!”

Derek had enough of being out of the loop. “Will one of you idiots tell me what’s going on!”

Jackson turned to Derek with a look of sad wonder in his eyes. He reverently whispered, “It’s Stiles. We may have finally found Stiles!”

Furry Little Liars by TheRealNightTempest

(6/? I 78,599 I Explicit)

Stiles Stilinksi has waited for the moment that Derek would finally look at him the way he desires. But leave it to Derek to screw it all up and change Stiles' life forever on a night neither of them will soon forget. With a dangerous creature suddenly setting it's sights on Stiles, and something happening between Derek and Stiles that no one can explain, there isn't much time before the world they know will come crashing down around them.

When Trust is Vital by hellbells

(32/32 I 79,427 I Explicit)

Red Eyes.

Stiles knew what it meant - he was one half of the Alpha pair of Beacon Hills. Oh my god, the thought. I haven’t even finished High School.

No pressure.

Well if you ignore the Psycho hunting family, deadly creatures descending and learning how to mother newly created puppies - all in a days work for Stiles Stilinski.

The Boy Who Tamed the Sourwolf by AllTheseSquaresMakeACircle

(29/29 I 94,918 I Explicit)

Stiles is used to being second tier in everyone's life. How easily people forget him and move on to bigger and better things. Used to always being in someone's shadow. Leave it to Derek Hale to shatter those expectations.

#teen wolf #sterek #stiles stilinski #derek hale #pack mom!stiles #alpha!derek #magic!stiles #anon

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lacrossepapi · 5 years

Text

Once Bitten Twice Shy

@steterweek Day three: Arranged Marriage and Emissary Stiles

Ao3 Link| words: 3261

“It’s not a good idea.”

“We have to rebuild.”

“We don’t have to have an emissary.”

“You know that’s not smart.”

“You’re the alpha, sister of mine. Whatever you want.”

Stiles grimaced at the patronizing tone the man on the other side of the door used at his own alpha. He wasn’t wrong, but standing up to an alpha took a lot of guts, especially when it was your own alpha.

Alpha Hale opened the door to the office Stiles had been sitting anxiously in for an hour already. At the sound Stiles jumped out of his seat and turned to face the door, his neck bared and his eyes on the floor.

A huff of amusement before the alpha said, “Please be seated Emissary Stilinski.”

Stiles fought to control his limbs in a show of poise and elegance as he sat back down in the antique chair.

“As you know, we recently fired our previous emissary.”

Recently meaning three years ago and fired meaning turned him over to the Druid Council for attempted mass murder.

Stiles nodded politely, despite his thoughts.

“You are young, inexperienced, and unknowing of many things.” The slight tilt to her head gave away that she was actively monitoring his heart rate.

“Yes, Alpha Hale, that is why I have applied when all of my teachers told me not to.” Stiles took a risk by being blunt.

“I see your spine Emissary Stilinski, be wary or you will see it too.” the angry girl that had watched him quietly for the hour he sat in the office waiting for the alpha to see him finally spoke.

Alpha Hale did not reprimand her for the threat, “I know what the community thinks about packs that have been hurt by emissaries, and I know what the world thinks of my pack. What I do not know is why you think these are good things for you.”

“Forgive me, Alpha Hale. I spoke out of turn and I should not have. What I am trying to say is that, my teachers fear your pack will abuse their next emissary. I do not feel the same way. I remember Cora Hale biting Jackson Whittmore when he pushed me down in the park. I remember Derek Hale catching my best friend Scott McCall when he fell out of a tree. And Alpha Hale, I remember you permitting my best friend to join your pack when he was unjustly turned, I remember you allowing him to live a normal life outside of the pack instead of assimilating. The Hales are good people and my father thinks you will be the perfect home for me, which is the biggest factor in my decision.” Stiles took a long breath to calm his nerves as he finished, his honey eyes meeting the alpha’s coffee ones despite everything he’d learned telling him to never look an alpha in the eyes.

She considered him for a long moment before nodding to herself, “If we move forward things will not be like a normal induction. We are not the trusting pack we once were. You will have to prove yourself, in skill and in heart.”

“Thank you Alpha. I will give it my all.” Stiles sighed, his shoulders slumping minutely.

“For your first test I need you to help my husband Adam collect firewood.”

Stiles turned those words over in his head again and again trying in vain to see where the test would lie, but kept coming up with nothing.

He knew that Adam Hale was the heart of the pack, a mediator and a skilled fighter. Other than that Stiles didn’t know anything about the man.

His train of thought was broken by a handsome man brushing passed him on his way up the porch steps of the Hale mansion, the man exuded angry vibes at such a close range so strongly Stiles stumbled.

The man, Peter Hale if Stiles remember from his notes well enough, stopped and turned his head back to glare at him.

“Excuse me, Enforcer Hale. Sorry I was in the way.” Stiles spoke calmly, knowing that the werewolf had to be monitoring his heart rate.

The man smirked at him, his eyes flashing blue, “You’re not and you weren’t.”

Stiles smiled a docile smile that usually ended in him being easily underestimated, instead of placating the man it only seemed to make him more angry and intrigued. Stiles deliberately turned his back on the enforcer and made his way up the last step of the porch to knock on the door.

Adam Hale was the one whom opened the door, a bright smile on his face, “Hello Emissary Stilinski! I’m Adam.”

The hand that shook his was warm and strong, and Stiles found himself missing his father despite that fact that he’d left the man only an hour prior.

“Hello Mr.Hale! I’m eager to complete our task today!” Stiles beamed up at the Hale’s right hand unable to hide his excitement.

Adam stepped out and closed the door behind him before turning back to Stiles as they made their way into the forest, “Please call me Adam, I’m excited to meet you Emissary Stilinski.”

“If I have to call you Adam, please call me Stiles!”

“Stiles? How peculiar! I like it!”

Stiles spent the next several hours talking about his family and helping Adam collect firewood, he completely forgot that this was supposed to be his first test. Stiles talked about his mother’s illness, his father’s alcoholism, his magic well into the afternoon. Adam asked questions here and there, but mostly Stiles babbled about everything good he had in his life happily.

There had been a tense moment when Adam had asked exactly how his magic worked and if he’d discovered his limit yet. Stiles had taken a moment to answer carefully, his magic a private part of himself and one that was both a weapon and a shield. When Adam’s next question was about where his weaknesses lied Stiles had laughed and changed the topic with ease. The Hales were his intended pack, but that did not mean he was their emissary yet.

When the sun had set and Stiles was floating a stack of firewood taller than himself they returned to the Hale mansion where Alpha Hale was waiting with her hands on her hips.

“That took longer than I expected.”

“Times flies when you’re having fun darling!” Adam chuckled, throwing his arm over Stiles in a casual gesture. “

Alpha Hale smiled at her husband, a silent conversation happening in an instant before she said, “Why don’t you join us for dinner Emissary Stilinski?”

Stiles smiled politely at her before declining, his father would go to bed without supper if Stiles wasn’t there to have it waiting for him.

Alpha Hale nodded her understanding and brushed her hand down his arm to scent mark him as he took his leave.

Saturday he was to work in the garden with Derek Hale.

Stiles hadn't expected to see any of the Hales out in town, but on second thought that was a foolish notion. He'd always seen at least one of them out and around the town, so why would that change now that he was in the interview process? It wouldn't, which was obvious by the fact that Stiles had just walked face first directly into Peter Hale.

Stiles bounced off the wall of muscle and landed on a soft cushion of air before he could hit the ground. He blinked dumbly up at Peter as he gathered his wits.

"I'd say quick reflexes, but if that was accurate you wouldn't have walked into a stationary person in the first place." Peter's smooth voice wash over Stiles and for a moment he almost forgot he was being insulted.

"Oh, eat me. I was thinking about what groceries I needed not why someone would be standing in the middle of the aisle staring at chocolate bars." Stiles snapped as he stood.

Peter blinked, a singular eyebrow rising in disbelief.

"What a smart mouth you have."

"All the better to bite you, dear." Stiles chomped the air after his little red riding hood quip.

Peter chuckled a deep rumbling sound Stiles would be thinking about for days.

"I like you much better outside the interview process, darling." Peter used one tree trunk like arm to box Stiles in against the aisle as he smiled.

"I'm much nicer on your terf I'm afraid. Out here we're just two strangers for all I care, Peter. And I will not listen to anyone mock me for an accident." Stiles' eyes were burnt honey as he stared into Peter's handsome face.

"Strangers we are not, mieczysław. I know everything about you. And I will figure out what your true motives are." Peter's suspicion sparked a memory in Stiles' mind, he was the voice that argued that they didn't need an emissary.

"You seem to have been against me from day one."

"Don't take it personally, darling. I'd love to be against you whenever you want, but you're right I don't want another emissary. We don't need one. I can do enough magic to lay wards and I can protect my pack more than some kid." Peter leered.

Stiles took one breath before swiping his foot behind Peter's feet and knocking the werewolf to the ground. " One man is not enough to protect a pack and you know that. And I am more than some kid."

With those words Stiles left the shocked and pissed off Peter Hale on the ground in the candy aisle and continued his shopping trip.

Saturday came quickly and Stiles found himself sweating anxiously as he made his way up the driveway to the Hale's door. What if Peter convinced the alpha that Stiles couldn't be trusted with their safety? What he told them that Stiles attacked him unwarranted and the Spark Elders were waiting inside to bind his power?

Stiles took a moment to collect himself and calm his heart rate before he knocked on the door. Adam opened the door with a smile and a hug.

"Welcome back Stiles! How has your week been?"

Pleasantries passed easily between the two of them as Adam led Stiles through the house and out the back door. Outside on the back porch Derek Hale sat reading a book quietly on a swing, he didn't look up as they exited the house.

"Der, don't be rude. Find a stopping point." Adam admonished.

Derek sighed and placed a pressed and laminated flower between the pages before looking at up them with irritated green eyes.

"Hello Stiles. How's the sheriff?" The question sounded forced, like he would rather finish his book than do whatever silly task he and the spark had to do.

"He's good. Still sneaking burgers behind my back. If I had your nose he'd never sneak another greasy burger passed me, but oh well. What are you reading?" Stiles tried to see what the cover said but Derek had placed the book face down.

"The Sun and Her Flowers." Derek looked bashful which was so cute Stiles smiled.

"Oh! I haven't read that one. I must confess I only read milk and honey because everyone was and I wanted to be cool." Stiles laughed awkwardly as he rubbed the back of his neck.

"It's okay. That's why I read it too, but I discovered I actually like reading this stuff." Derek shrugged.

"Okay boys enough chatter! Go get my flower beds looking pristine! Chop chop!" Adam said with a frown and a clap, but Stiles could feel the warmth of his happiness.

Derek and Stiles spent all morning picking weeds out of the soil, planting new flowers, and trimming the existing ones. By the time Adam returned with lemonade and sandwiches both men were covered in dirty and wearing happy, content smiles.

"It was really good to catch up, man. This might be lame to say but I really hope your mom accepts me." Stiles sighed out as he sun bathed next to Derek on the porch.

"You've only got two more tests, so don't sweat it too much. You're doing well." Derek looked bashful again, which made Stiles beam at him before bumping his head softly on Derek's shoulder.

The next time Stiles made the journey to the Hale's mansion it was evening already and all he knew was that Alpha Hale had requested his presence.

He entered the house with a muttered, "Good luck, mieczysław." From Peter echoing in his head.

"Stiles! Welcome back!" Adam cheered.

"Hey! What's going on? Does Alpha Hale need me for something or is this another test?" Stiles asked looking from Adam to Derek, who was reading a new book at the dining room table.

"Neither. I did not call you Emissary Stilinski. My daughters seem to think I am taking too long in deciding and have taken the third test from me. Is your father okay with you being over this late?" Alpha Hale announced as she descended the large staircase.

"Oh! Yes he's fine with it. He's training a new third shift deputy tonight anyways. I dropped off his dinner on my way over." Stiles informed his eyes down and neck bared.

When the alpha reached him she dragged her hand down his arm in a gesture of scent marking before gently lifting his head.

"You do not have to do that Emissary Stilinski. Have you eaten?" Alpha Hale's voice was warm and welcoming.

"I had a couple bites of dinner before I came over."

"I am sorry my girls called you away from your dinner. We are just about to sit down and eat if you'd like to join us?"

"I would be honored Alpha Hale. Thank you."

Two women entered the kitchen with his acceptance and grinned at their mother.

"Hello Stiles. Long time, man." Cora Hale said with a sideways grin and a hand ruffling his hair.

"Sorry about her Stiles. I'm Laura, it's nice to officially meet you and not just watch you intimidatingly." Laura laughed, dragging her hand down the arm her mother hadn't already scent marked.

"I wasn't intimidated." Stiles replied petulantly.

Laura raised a disbelieving eyebrow at him.

"Very. I wasn't very intimidated." Stiles corrected.

Laura gave him a look that said exactly how clear it was that he was lying.

"Dang werewolves can't even let a man keep his manly image intact!" Stiles huffed causing both women to laugh as they took their seats across from him and Derek.

Alpha Hale and Adam sat at the head of the table sharing space in a way that made Stiles warm with the love they radiated. It made him nostalgic for his childhood and soon he found himself talking about his mother.

As they ate Alpha Hale kept glancing at the empty seat at the other end of the table.

"I wonder why Peter didn't stay for dinner?" Cora asked, receiving a sharp look from her mother immediately.

"He's probably just sulking because he's about to no longer be the only protector." Laura snickered.

"That's enough." Their alpha said calmly, though both women reacted as if they'd been yelled at.

After dinner was over Alpha Hale took Stiles up to her office. She looked at him for a long moment before sighing.

"Let me be completely frank here, Stiles. Is it okay I call you Stiles?"

Stiles nodded, preparing himself to be sent away from the Hale mansion for the last time.

"Thank you. Stiles, you're a really good match for my pack and my family. My children love you, my husband wants to adopt you and your father already, and even my pack members you haven't officially met yet have been telling me how much they like your father and liked your mother. You have amazing control over a powerful type of magic and you come from a good family. On top of that you yourself are a good person and a good fit."

Stiles tensed, the unsaid "but" hanging between them as Alpha Hale sighed again. This was the moment the guillotine blade fell.

"But, I have one more thing to ask of you. You are very young and if you say no, we would still be honored to have you and your father join us for dinner whenever you'd like. We were almost burned alive because Emissary Deaton was seduced by someone with an agenda. To combat this I would like you to marry a member of my pack. It does not have to be a member of my family. I can send for eligible and willing pack members to come meet you. But my next emissary will not be so easily swayed by a pretty stranger."

Stiles' mind was reeling. Married? He was only twenty and he was expected to marry someone he didn't actually know all that well? He started thinking of pros and cons immediately, his mind moving faster than it had in a long time. He could feel the alpha's eyes on him as he tried to think his way in and around this proposal.

He could say no. He could decline and still have the Hales as a valuable ally and friend, but he would have to seek a pack outside of town and further away from his father. He loved this family and the love they had for each other. If he married in then he and his father would be exposed to that warmth whenever the echoes of Claudia Stilinski haunted them. He would have a big family like he'd always wanted. He would have someone to sit with him when he worried too much over his father's health. He'd have someone to hold him at night when he was lonely and wishing his father would spend more time at home.

"I'll do it. What about Peter?"

"You're crazy. Peter is a hellion and an asshole on top of that." Cora looked at him with big shocked eyes when he told her.

"Holy shit. Peter being married. That'll be a sight. I wonder if he'll say yes?" Laura pondered.

"He'll say yes." Derek muttered distractedly, his fingers buried deep in the soil around his favorite flowers.

"You don't know that." Stiles sighed.

"I do. He's been muttering about your 'smart mouth' and your 'fine ass' since the first day you came to the house." Derek replied, not looking up.

"You're right! I have heard him cursing your 'sinful hands'!" Cora laid back as she laughed loudly.

"You guys look how red his face is now!" Laura pointed out before joining her sister on the ground.

Stiles buried his face in Derek's back and wished he could skip this part and just hurry up and be happily married.

"Well I would've preferred a ring and a real proposal but I guess this will do, darling." Peter's deep voice shocked Stiles out of his embarrassed misery and had him on his feet before he knew was happening.

"This will do?" Stiles squeaked.

"Yes, sweetheart." Peter caressed Stiles face before kissing him softly.

"You'll marry me so I can join the pack?" Stiles tried to refrain from using his puppy eyes but they were unstoppable at this point.

"I'll marry you. Period." Peter muttered against Stiles' forehead before he kissed it.

"But if you knock me to the ground like that again I'll have to punish you, love." Peter's eyes held a wicked promise as well as a challenge and Stiles found himself rushing forward to smash their lips together.

#steter #steter week #steter week 2019 #kyla creates #emissary stiles #arranged marriage

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thisdiscontentedwinter · 5 years

Text

Bad Blood - Chapter 27

You can read it on AO3 or find the Tumblr Chapter Index here.

____________

Stiles isn’t easily distracted. He knows that’s what Allison and Derek are trying to do with him. They draw him into conversations about random things, they watch TV with him, they play cards, they do anything except talk about hunters and werewolves and Gerard and Kate. And Stiles appreciates the gesture in an abstract sort of way, but Gerard and Kate and the past six years are still right there, still an itch under his skin, still the scrape of nails down the chalkboard of his memory. Stiles is unsettled and jumpy, and it’s getting harder and harder to hide it. He sits on the couch and his leg jiggles.

It’s been over twenty-four now since he and Allison ran from the house.

The house that Peter and Laura have left the loft to go to now.

The house that contains Stiles’s supply of Adderall.

He hopes they remember to bring it like he asked.

He remembers how, when Kate took him, at first he didn’t have his Adderall. He remembers when Kate brought him some, a week or so later, and Stiles had swallowed it down eagerly, certain that he’d feel better again—that his heart wouldn’t race, that he wouldn’t cry anymore, that he wouldn’t break the things they gave him—except the pill didn’t magically make him good. It didn’t make him the sort of good they wanted him to be. And he still cried and shivered and didn’t listen.

He’s not sure when that went away.

He only remembers a feeling of profound relief the first time that Gerard told him he was a good boy, because that meant he wouldn’t be punished that day.

Stiles thinks that might have been the day he locked the crying boy away inside a room in his head, because letting that boy out only got him hurt.

He knows Gerard will never forgive his treason. And he understands that. He accepts that. He can’t say he was never warned, can he?

His heart races, and Derek looks at him.

Stiles jiggles his leg for a second longer, and then stands up and makes his way to the kitchen.

Twenty-four hours, and he’s not still locked in that windowless room, is he? He’s helping himself to a can of soda from a werewolf pack’s refrigerator.

This isn’t captivity. Stiles isn’t a hostage, and Gerard, shrewd and narrow-eyed, will spot it in a second. He’ll see it Stiles’s face the moment he looks at him, and then he’ll kill him for his treason.

He leaves the soda in the refrigerator, like that will make a difference, and goes to sit down again.

***

Peter and Laura are back at the loft by six, just as the afternoon shadows are starting to lengthen and soften into dusk. They bring up crates and crates of weapons, explosive and gear, and leave them stacked in the corner by the TV. Stiles approaches the plastic crates warily, and pops the lid off the first one to see inside. A couple of stun guns, some body armor, a crossbow and arrows, and a case of flash grenades. He feels somehow grounded to be looking at this stuff again. Here, in all the chaos, is something Stiles knows. He fights the urge to open the other crates as well, because he’s aware of Peter watching him closely.

Stiles is still a hunter, isn’t he?

Maybe.

He doesn’t really know anymore.

Allison is less constrained than Stiles.

“Hey, a crossbow!” She lifts it out and holds it. She has good form. She aims it at the TV, and stares through the sight a moment. For a moment she looks a little like Kate: sharp, focussed, cold. And then she sets the crossbow down again, and her dimples appear when she smiles. “I call dibs.”

“You don’t need a crossbow,” Laura says. “If things go to plan, you won’t get close enough to be able to use it.”

“But, just in case,” Allison says. Her tone is upbeat, but it doesn’t leave any room for argument. “I’m a good shot, and this is just like the one I have at home. Unless anyone else here can actually use it?”

The wolves don’t answer.

“Good,” Allison says. “Dibs.”

Stiles has underestimated her, he thinks. He glances at Peter and sees the same realisation dawning in his eyes. Allison hasn’t been raised a hunter, but she has been raised to know how to shoot, and she’s not the fragile flower she appears. Gerard shot her dad—or Kate did, but the distinction is academic—and Allison isn’t forgetting that for a second.

Stiles wonders if she’s also remembering how they shot Scott, and how Stiles was there. How maybe Scott would have got away if Stiles hadn’t chased him right into Gerard and Kate’s path.

Sour guilt twists in his stomach and rises in his throat.

“You found everything okay then?” he asks Peter.

Peter inclines his head, a smile playing around his lips. “Yes, thanks to your directions. Now we just need John to tell us what to do with all this stuff. Apparently my plan lacks finesse.”

Stiles doesn’t know how to respond to that. He sits down on the couch again.

“Oh,” Peter says, and digs into his pocket. He tosses a plastic bottle of pills toward Stiles, and Stiles catches them. “Your Adderall.”

Stiles squeezes his fingers around the familiar bottle. “Thank you.”

He goes to the kitchen to get a glass of water.

***

Stiles’s father arrives later that night. He’s still in his uniform, and Stiles looks at the badge on his shirt and remembers the way he used to play with it—it was shiny, okay?—tugging at it until his dad had to carefully unpeel his little fingers before he ripped his shirt. He’s also got four pizza boxes.

“I thought you didn’t finish until ten,” Peter says.

“Benefits of being the boss,” John tells him, setting the pizzas down on the breakfast bar. “I got two meatlovers, one supreme, and a pepperoni. I hope nobody’s vegetarian.”

“In this crowd?” Laura teases, but looks to Allison and Stiles questioningly.

“Total carnivore here,” Allison says happily, and Stiles nods.

Stiles waits until his father has selected a slice and stepped back before he moves towards the pizzas. His stomach rumbles at the smell, and he can’t remember the last time he had pizza. He grabs a slice of the meatlovers.

“Is that all you’re having?” Derek asks him.

Stiles looks at his slice.

“Take another one,” Derek says, and elbows him gently. “You have two hands.”

Stiles feels a rush of warmth, and smiles slightly and reaches for a second slice. Then he glances over towards his father, and sees him watching. Stiles flushes, and turns away.

His father isn’t a thing he can deal with. Not yet. It’s too big. Stiles still gets an almost visceral negative reaction to even hearing his name, let alone seeing him, and while he knows that’s not fair, that the hatred he feels—or felt, he doesn’t know—for the man was constructed on a foundation of lies, it’s not just a matter of knowing it. Stiles has felt it for so long, and so acutely, that he can’t just make it vanish in a heartbeat. If he could, then maybe everything would be easier, but he’s believed it for so long that he can’t just let it go.

He remembers reading the books in Gerard’s study. Remembers the burn of pride he got from learning about his ancestors. They were heroes. Stiles never doubted it. They were heroes, but it had only taken one man to break that chain, hadn’t it? To break it and trample everything into the mud. Stiles worked every day to prove to himself and to Gerard and Kate and to every person in the hunter community that he wasn’t his father. He wasn’t. He was better. The thought of it kept him going even when his body wanted to quit. It sustained him when he was tired, hungry, and even when he was terrified. And he knows now that it was Gerard and Kate who wove his hated so deeply into his every motivation, but knowing that it’s poison doesn’t mean the knowledge is a magic antidote.

He almost wishes his father would show some frustration, some anger, something for Stiles to push back against and validate his hatred a little. But he doesn’t, does he? Because that’s not who he is.

It’s too big to deal with for now.

He goes and sits on the couch, with Allison on one side of him and Derek on the other, and eats his pizza.

“Okay,” his father says at last, and clears a space on the coffee table. He unrolls a blueprint. “This is an empty warehouse on Elm. We’ve got office space at the front, and a second floor. We’ve got windows all around, with bars. Two doors on the ground level, plus the roller doors for vehicle access, and two points of entry via the roof.”

Stiles follows the explanation as his father points out each feature.

“Now, we can rig it easily enough,” his father says, “but we’re going to need bait.”

“Me,” Allison says.

“Ally!” Stiles exclaims.

“No, I mean it,” Allison says. “If I call Grandpa crying about monsters, he can trace the call to the warehouse, and he’ll come and get me.”

“It’s a good idea,” John says.

And there it is. There’s that low burn of anger in Stiles’s gut that could translate so easily into hatred.

“You can make the call,” John says, “then we get you out of there but leave the phone you’re using.”

Stiles sucks in a breath. “Gerard’s not going to fall for an empty warehouse. He’ll smell a trap a mile off.”

“Then I’ll be Allison,” Laura says. “We’re about the same size, and it’ll be night, right? I can wear her clothes, keep my face down, and lure them in. Then I’ll go out the roof.”

“While the building’s exploding?” Peter asks. “You’re an alpha, Lulu, but you’re not fucking invincible!”

“No, but I’ve got a better chance than Allison!”

For a moment Stiles is sure he’s going to see claws and fangs. Then, in the middle of the tense silence between the alpha and her left hand, he hears the very improbable blast of Rihanna’s Umbrella.

Peter growls, and tugs his phone out of his pocket. “Deaton? What’s going on?” He’s silent, but his eyes flash beta gold as he listens. “You’re sure? Fuck.” He growls again. “Okay, keep yourself safe.”

He ends the calls.

“Bad news, kids,” he says. “Deaton just spotted Gerard Argent and his goons in a black Cadillac Escalade on Hooper Street, travelling west. They’re not heading for the warehouses on Elm. They’re heading here.”

Stiles closes his eyes for a moment, and reaches out to grip Derek’s hand tightly.

So much for their plan.

#bad blood #my fics #discontentedwinter #sterek #steter senior

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graciebirdie · 5 years

Text

Haaaa I just realized I didn’t post this here oops...

Here’s my fic for the steter reverse big bang!

The art inspiration for this is found HERE by the lovely @lacrossepapi

and thanks so much to the wonderful @lavender-lotion for being an awesome mod!

***

Peter knew he wasn't thinking straight. He hadn't been thinking straight for years. What had happened with Laura had really brought that point home for him.

He didn't regret getting the alpha power. But he thought he might regret killing Laura to get it. His thoughts were so jumbled up that sometimes he didn't even know if he had killed her.

He must have though, he was the alpha. He didn't think the power would have gone to him if he hadn't killed her. It hadn't gone to him when Talia had died, it wouldn't go to him when he was even worse off mentally now than he had been Before .

Peter half remembered killing people that were responsible for the fire. It was easy for his nurse, who he suspected was even crazier than he was, to find out who the insurance inspector was and from there Peter just followed lead to lead. Leaving behind a trail of bodies caught Kate Argent's’ eye, which was what Peter had wanted. She had been the one to start the fire and he was going to kill her for it.

In the end it wouldn't matter if she was prepared for a fight. It wouldn't matter if she killed him as long as she died in the end too.

Thoughts like that probably weren't helping Peter's mental state.

He knew if he just made a beta or three it would help him. Pack bonds would sooth the alpha power, calm his mind, but he would have to deal with brand new werewolves on top of his revenge plans. Better to concentrate on one thing at a time.

If he survived he'd find some easily manipulated, desperate young adults and go from there.

He could throw them at Derek as a distraction. Maybe that would finally stop his nephew from skulking around trying to work up the courage to kill him.

Kate Argent did come to town, with several of her lackeys in tow, they spread out through the preserve, hunting for Peter's trail.

Peter picked the lackeys off one by one, trying to ignore how easy they were making it for him.

There was a trap being set, he was sure, but he couldn't resist taking out hunters when they were practically sitting ducks in front of him.

Finally, after hours there was only Kate and three of her men left.

He was expecting the wolfsbane bullets.

He expected the mountain ash circle.

He should have been expecting the god damn flame thrower but apparently he'd misjudged how

afraid of him she was.

He snarled at where she was hiding behind a mountain ash circle.

He couldn't get closer to her without risking being caught on fire, again, and she wouldn't be coming out of the circle unless she was sure he was dead.

But the four hunters were trapped in one place. A minor flaw in their plan that he was sure wouldn't usually matter.

But they were using a flamethrower. In the middle of a forest. If they weren’t careful they would set the whole place on fire a Peter would burn with them, just to watch them die the same way his family had.

He could feel the burn of all the places he'd been clipped by bullets but he pushed through it.

Compared to the fire these were barely scratches. He could stand a few more.

It took a long long time for the four of them to run out of ammunition. So long, that Peter was

panting and in actual pain by the time they only had the flame thrower as an option. Not that Peter actually believed they didn’t have any bullets left.

He laid down on the forest floor, struggling to get his breath back, watching her calculate her next move.

One of the hunters decided to risk coming out of the circle. Peter was on him in moments, tearing him apart with abandon.

There were more gunshots, a few stings of pain but than silence again.

Peter heard the soft drip drip of rain starting to fall.

He gave Kate a huge bloody grin. If it rained hard enough her flamethrower might become useless.

"A little rain isn't going to help you if you die from the wolfsbane in your system." Kate taunted.

Peter ignored her and rolled the dead hunter over.

With slightly clumsy fingers he pulled out the clip on the gun. He glanced up at Kate smugly as he saw the foolish hunter had indeed tried to conserve the last of his ammunition.

Peter rifled through the pockets in the hunter's tactical vest until he found a lighter. He popped open the bullets and shook them out onto the hunters stomach to set the gunpowder on fire with the lighter.

Carefully and methodically he ground the ash into the wounds that hadn't healed, pulling bullet fragments out as he went along.

The two remain hunters were starting to get nervous but Kate didn't even blink. Not even when the rain started to fall hard enough to penetrate the thick tree canopies.

Peter rolled his head back to look up at the black sky, feeling the raindrops roll through the patchy fur on his face. The cool water helped soothe a bit of the few sparks of pain that were left.

He settled down next to the dead hunter, content to wait, either for the rain to start to fall hard enough to wash away the mountain ash or for Kate and her two little followers to get impatient enough to come out of the circle themselves.

The other two hunters were starting to get agitated, pacing around the circle and glancing up at the sky often enough to tell Peter they were worried about the rain.

Kate looked just as calm and confident as she had the entire time they'd been having their little face-off.

Peter knew the two hunters had to be well trained to be tasked with watching Kate's back, so they would be smart enough to have a few shots left, just like their dead companion. No doubt the temptation to use them on Peter with him sitting there in plain sight had to be agonizing. Peter wasn't particularly worried about them.

It was Kate and her weapon that he was more interested in. What sort of low-budget action movie did Kate think she was in to not only have but use a flamethrower?

Peter knew she had it because she'd guessed who was going around killing her accomplices, that she'd brought it hoping that Peter would be too afraid of the fire to risk attacking her.

But Peter wasn't afraid of fire. He didn't like it, and he certainly didn't want to be burned again but if she really didn't want Peter to kill her she would have to kill him first, not try to frighten him.

"So what's the plan here, Hale?" Kate asked, trying to sound like she actually wanted an answer.

Peter sighed deeply in annoyance.

He couldn't exactly talk in his sifted form and he wasn't about to waste energy changing himself back just to satisfy her curiously. Even if Peter was a little tempted to give her a piece of his mind over her leaving surviving members of a pack she'd tried to destroy.

Peter wasn't sure if she'd done it because she was being lazy or because she'd thought he'd never heal.

He didn't think it actually mattered but if the rain hadn’t started to fall harder he might have turned back just to taunt her.

Peter saw the moment Kate realized the mountain ash circle was broken. She raised her ridiculously over the top weapon, aimed it at Peter, but he was already moving behind her to grab at one of the other hunters.

Sharp, intense pain hit him and he looked down to see the hunter had stabbed him right in the gut.

The hunter used Peter's moment of pain to slip away from him and hide behind Kate.

Peter pulled the knife out and glared at it. He could tell by the burning sensation that it had been coated with wolfsbane. That wasn't good. He didn't have anything to make an antidote.

Peter sighed. He had a time limit now.

He had two choices. He could either just attack all three of them outright, use the two as human shields against Kate and risk getting stabbed again or he could tire them out and try to separate them.

Running around would pump the wolfsbane through his system faster but it would be easier to take them out one on one, like he had with the other hunters already.

Plus, suddenly turning around and running might give them a false sense of relief, they might think Peter had gone off to lick his wounds.

Peter took off, slower than he had to even with the knife would. The more they underestimated him the easier it would be to pick them off.

He could hear them cursing and running after him as he wove through the trees, easily dodging in and out of their sight, waiting for the perfect opportunity to loop around them and catch whoever was the first to fall behind.

But first he had to try and tire them out.

He dodged around trees, keeping one step in front of them until even Peter was starting to feel the strain.

He glanced over his shoulder to see if they were showing any sign of slowing down, and felt himself stumble over a sudden decline in the forest floor.

He broke through the tree line and right onto a two lane road.

Peter realized the wolfsbane was really affecting him when he stared at an oncoming car like the proverbial deer caught in the headlights.

Surviving the fire only to end up roadkill might be something he deserved if he'd killed Laura but he'd prefer for it to happen after he'd already killed Kate Argent.

***

It was pouring down rain and probably later in the night than Stiles should have been out. But it wasn't as if his dad was going to complain overly much. They had a very strict Don't Ask Don't Tell policy when it came to Stiles' late night activities.

In fact, they never talked about it at all, outside of his dad's weekly "So everything good with, ah, you?"

To which Stiles always replied "The good citizens of Beacon Hills will continue to live for another day."

For some reason his dad never thought that was particularly funny.

Out of the corner of his eye Stiles saw a sort of flash, the kind thing that usually happened if a flashlight was passed over a cat. It had barely even registered in his brain when a large black blur was streaking across the road, right in front of Stiles' jeep.

Stiles slammed on the brakes and turned the wheel away from where the blur had been running, being careful not to jerk the wheel so he didn't accidentally hydroplane into the trees on either side of the road.

As much as Stiles hated to admit it, his jeep had seen better days. And while he kept up with the maintenance on it, it couldn't stop on a dime.

There was the awful sound of crunching metal and the jeep stuttered ominously as the momentum of the impact caused it to slid into the brush and dirt that separated the highway and tree line.

Stiles could feel himself shaking. The worst accident he had ever been in was when he had been first learning how to backup and had run right into a tree. The jeep hadn't gotten so much as a scratch then.

Taking a few slow deep breaths to try and calm down a bit he put the jeep in park and carefully opened his door.

He looked around and there, lying just off center of the road was what had to be a bear.

He had seen bears in zoos before and he and his mom had once had a close and messy encounter with a black bear when they had been camping up in the redwoods, but he was pretty sure he'd never heard of bears around Beacon Hills. The biggest predator around was, well, him.

Standing there in the rain, staring at a bear that was either dead or dying Stiles could practically hear his mother in his head gleefully yelling "Waste not, want not!"

He pointedly ignored the voice and walked around to the front of the jeep to check the damage.

The driver's side headlight was completely shattered and part of the front bumper was crushed. He pulled out his phone to shine it's flashlight up under the wheel well to make sure he would be able to drive the four miles he had left to get home. After all, his dad might actually ask some questions if Stiles had to call a tow truck at two in the morning.

Stiles sighed deeply in relief at the sight of an only mildly damaged wheel well. He'd definitely be able to drive home, even if it would have to be slowly.

Satisfied that his jeep would live for another day, if worse for wear and in desperate need of a mechanic, he turned back towards the bear.

Again he could hear his mother making fun of him for deciding the jeep was the most pressing matter, her voice taking on an exaggerated British accent " You really need to sort out your priorities. "

Stiles rolled his eyes and muttered out loud "You're only saying that because you would have eaten half the bear by now."

His mother's appetite had been literally legendary. Stiles was just grateful that of all the things he'd inherited from her he'd only gotten her blood lust and not her insatiable hunger.

Stiles knelt down next to the bear, not caring at all about the wet asphalt. He was going to b soaked through with both water and blood by the time he got the bear into the back of the jeep.

He reached out, ignoring the proverb about not poking bears and gave it a good hard poke to what he was pretty sure was the shoulder area.

Nothing happened.

He leaned closer.

Taking a good strong sniff his mouth started to water even though he'd eaten less than an hour before.

He leaned even closer and he realized that the scent of the creature in front of him wasn't the same as the last time he had smelled bear blood.

He gave the shoulder a good hard shove and the creature lolled over onto its back.

"Holy shit." Stiles said in amazement.

He hadn't hit a bear.

He'd hit a goddamn werewolf.

He felt his usually slow heartbeat quicken in excitement as he leaned closer, breathing in the strange, new scent. He'd never met a werewolf before. He knew a pack had lived in Beacon Hills at the same time his mom had, but she had made sure he never met any of them, convinced that they would kill her and Stiles on sight.

The pack had been killed right around the same time his mom had been having her...issues...and no new pack had taken their place. Unfortunately that had only added to her paranoia.

He leaned even closer, hovering inches away from the werewolf's dog-like snout. He breathed in the strange, woody scent of the creature and hummed, pleased with the wild feeling the scent seemed to fill him with.

So close to the creature he could feel the heat coming off of its body and could hear the slow deep pounding of its heart.

Stiles realized he was actually glad he hadn't managed to kill the werewolf. It was always more exciting when his prey was alive.

He reached out and slid his finger through the blood from the large wound in the creature's side. Slowly he brought his hand up to his mouth and licked the blood from his finger.

He didn't even try to stop himself from moaning at the delicious taste.

His mother had tried to explain to him that at some point he might feel arousal at the taste of blood but he'd always loudly protested and distracted her every time she brought it up. This was the first time it had ever happened and he made the split second decision to keep the source of this new interesting sensation.

The only problem was that this was obviously a powerful werewolf, if its bear-like size was to be believed. If it decided that it didn't want to let Stiles have some of its blood, then Stiles probable wouldn't be able to make it.

Just because Stiles could overpower a human didn't mean he could control a creature twice his size.

He really only had two options if he wanted to keep it alive: Either keep it locked up or turn it into a thrall.

Both had drawbacks.

If he locked the creature up in the barn, the place his mother had always kept her 'chattel', his dad would instantly jump to the conclusion that Stiles was going in the same direction as his mom had. And considering how badly everything had ended between her and his dad Stiles would really rather avoid his dad ever even thinking about Stiles' dietary requirements.

Thrall was really the only way to go. Stiles would easily be able to keep the creature docile with just a few drops of Stiles' blood. The only issue was that Stiles didn't actually know if he could make a werewolf a thrall.

The pull of his blood didn't even work on humans who knew what he was so there was every possibility that a werewolf wouldn't be swayed by the temptation his blood usually had.

And if Stiles wasn't able to successfully ensnare the werewolf it would without a doubt kill him.

The draw of the most delicious tasting blood he’d ever had made the possibility of death worth it.

He slid the pad of his index finger against the sharp tip of one of his canine teeth and carefully opened the creatures' huge jaws with his free hand.

He dripped several drops of his blood onto the creature’s tongue before the cut healed. He frowned in thought before deciding that because the creature wasn't human he probably wouldn't be able to turn it so he repeated the process of cutting his finger and dripped even more blood into its mouth.

Satisfied that he'd done what he could he settled more fully next to the creature. He leaned down against its chest and gave the large gash that was still sluggishly bleeding a few tender licks.

He could feel the slow rise and fall of the creature's breaths and the heat coming off of its body was almost scorching to Stiles' rain-soaked skin. He thought he might be able to get used to having a living, heat radiating body pillow.

Although everything would probably feel even better if they weren't lying in the middle of the road in the dead of night. They'd been there long enough that Stiles was actually starting to get a little worried a car was going to come and hit them.

That certainly seemed like the kind of luck Stiles would have. And if the way they had met was any indication the werewolf didn't seem any better off.

Just when Stiles had finally decided they'd spend enough time testing fate the creature shifted underneath him.

It growled, low, deep, and so menacing Stiles actually got goosebumps.

Stiles ignored every warning thought he had, courtesy of his mother constantly reminding him that if he always acted without thinking, something bigger and badder than he was would eat him, and gently stroked his hand down the creature's long, large arm. He sat up a bit and used his other hand to pet through the thick coarse hair on the creature's chest.

The fact that the werewolf was still growling but not trying to either kill Stiles or run off into the night seemed like a good sign that the thrall was working.

Of course as soon as he'd had that thought the creature was up, standing in front of Stiles snarling loudly.

Stiles sighed deeply and went over his options from where he'd ended up lying on the pavement.

He might just have to...let the creature go.

He really didn't want to let his new favorite dish just walk out of his life but he also found that strangely enough he didn't really want to kill the werewolf either.

This was certainly a new feeling. After all, he'd been taught to never let a meal get away.

But the werewolf was just so interesting. The only other not-human he had ever gotten to spend time with was his mom so he was a little starved for attention.

Maybe he would be able to bribe the werewolf back with a large quantity of raw meat...

Suddenly the creature roared and Stiles heard what was definitely a shot gun going off.

Great, they'd managed to attract the attention of someone out hunting.

Stiles frowned in thought as he tried to remember which side of the highway the Beacon Hill's Preserve was on.

He heard a strange sort of wet crunching sound and raised his head to see the silhouette of his werewolf holding what looked like the top half of a body in one hand and in the other dangling another body by the head.

It was quite the sight to behold and Stiles sat up fully to appreciate it.

There was another wet ripping sound and the second body fell from the werewolf's hand, sans it's head.

Fascinating.

Stiles heard a loud crunch and had no doubt that the head the creature had been holding had just been crushed.

It shot its now free hand out and snatched another person seemingly out of nowhere. Stiles watched in a sort of breathless fascination as the creature pulled it's newest victim up, high enough their legs were dangling above the ground, and in one smooth motion opened its jaws and completely bit through what looked like both neck and upper body.

The creature stood holding two very dead bodies and breathing deeply, breath misting out in the still falling rain.

Stiles was suitably impressed. He had already known that the werewolf wasn't the sort of being he should be messing with but after such an amazing display of raw blood lust Stiles' desire to keep the creature only intensified.

Although now Stiles was completely certain that he wouldn't be able to actually turn the creature into a thrall after all.

Instead Stiles would just have to make himself more valuable to the werewolf alive as opposed to dead.

He supposed flattery was as good a place to start as anywhere.

Pointedly ignoring his mother's panicked screeching he gave the werewolf a loud round of applause.

It turned slowly, deliberately, towards Stiles and for a moment he actually wondered if it had been a good idea to let the creature live after all, but he was almost instantly distracted by the way it raised the body that had a head hanging on by a thread, and took a large deliberate bite out of it's shoulder.

Stiles snorted in amusement. "Hey, I already ate tonight. You have at it. After all, you earned it buddy."

The werewolf chewed for a while in a way Stiles thought seemed considering.

Finally after a few minutes and another few bites, this time from the other body, it dropped both handfuls and curled forward so that it was walking on all four of its limbs.

Stiles stared intently as the creature prowled across the road to loom over where Stiles was still sitting on the wet pavement.

He tipped his head back to fully meet the werewolf's glowing red eyes. Slowly, telegraphing his moments just in case it decided that Stiles would make a nice after dinner snack, he reached up and rubbed the sleeve of his hoodie through the blood coating the creature's mouth.

After a few moments of the two of them staring at each other and Stiles' fruitlessly trying to clean up some of the mess that had been made in the creature's fur, he realized that one side of it's face felt different than the other. Like the fur was patchy and mottled in places. Stiles had no idea what that meant. He was pretty sure it wasn't the full moon but the werewolf was very obviously not human shaped even what Stiles thought was a given was wrong.

Deciding that was a question for when Stiles could actually see the creature in some proper light, he slid his hand down to the creature's chest and gently tried to push it a step back so he could stand up without them bonking heads, which was definitely something that would happen to him.

Interestingly enough the werewolf actually did step back and Stiles hopped awkwardly to his feet.

"So what's the plan here?" he asked, because he had some ideas but it was entirely possible the creature wouldn't be willing to just go along with him, even if it did seem interested in Stiles.

The werewolf just continued to stare unblinkingly at him and Stiles felt his eyes start to water in sympathy.

"Okay..." he said, drawing the word out and swaying from side to side slightly to see if the creature's eyes followed his movements. It did. He found that slightly disconcerting. "So my plan is to go home, take a shower, and then take the world's longest nap."

The creature just continued to stare.

"If I told you I had a place you could sleep out of the rain would you be interested?" Stiles asked, deciding it was worth a shot to try and casually get the creature to do what Stiles wanted.

The creature let out a loud unimpressed sounding snort before turning and walking over to the jeep. With one large disgustingly human like hand it pulled open the passenger side door and crawled into the jeep.

"Well that was easy!" Stiles said happily, and then promptly smacked himself in the face for jinxing it.

No doubt that now everything would go wrong, and it would probably involve his dad in one way or another. After all, his dad had been the one who always told him not to bring stray animals home.

Of course, before they could leave they had to clean up the dead bodies before his dad found them, that would be a sure-fire way to get Stiles and the creature both in trouble.

***

The drive home took more than twice as long because the werewolf kept sticking it's very large wet nose against Stiles' cheek.

He had the strangest feeling it was being done on purpose but refused on principle to react more than ducking his head out of the way.

Finally after what felt like forever, Stiles pulled the jeep in front of the barn.

He slipped out of the car and waited for the werewolf to jump out after him before closing the door and sighing deeply, grateful that at least the rain had let up.

He hadn't been inside the barn in almost five years. And that last time had not been very… pleasant.

Of course now that he actually had a reason to use the barn again he was glad that he'd taken the time to clean it out after his mother’s accident .

There wasn't going to be any unwelcome surprises hanging around except for probably bats, which all things considered, Stiles had a little bit of a soft spot for.

He unlocked the smaller side door, because the larger front doors were still chained shut and he didn't want to have to deal with chains in the dark after three in the morning.

Stiles got out of the doorway and flipped the over head lights on to watch the werewolf squeeze itself into the room.

He huffed in amusement before trying to make himself look innocent when the creature loomed over him.

He waved his arm in front of himself to show the werewolf it should go first out of the tack room and into the main hallway of the barn.

"You go ahead and and have a look around, I have to go take care of the bodies." he paused, shooting the werewolf an amused look. "Although I should probably make you do it, you were the one that made the mess to begin with."

The creature looked unimpressed but it had helped Stiles pick up the bodies and bundle them into the tarp Stiles kept in the back of the jeep for just such occasions so Stiles was willing to give it a pass.

He sighed and waved the creature away before turning to go back outside to the jeep.

He pulled the heavy and bloody tarp out and then across the driveway to the fenced in garden that sat parallel to the barn.

The garden was overgrown and just as neglected as the barn had been. Stiles and his dad both avoid the garden, which was easy enough to do. A normal garden would have grown out of control but the fence around it kept the plants from spreading, not because the fence was enough to keep them in but because of the runes carved into the wood of the fence posts.

The garden had been his mother's pride and joy. It was full to bursting with poisonous and odd plants. Stiles would never eat anything in it, not because of the questionable lethality of the plants in it but because of what his mom had used as fertilizer. She might have been cursed to hunger after flesh as well as blood but she still had to do something with the leftovers.

Stiles unrolled the tarp onto the compost pile, or where he thought the compost pile would be.

The plants shivered and wiggled under the drops of blood and viscera, leaves and vines moving to curl around the bodies and dismembered parts.

Satisfied that his dad wouldn't be finding any evidence, he turned to walk out of the garden but paused when he saw the werewolf standing next to the gate, leaning it's huge head close to the wooden posts, probably inspecting the runes.

It raised one of it's creepy hands like it was going to touch the wood and Stiles and his mom yelped in unison.

"Don't touch it!" Stiles yelled, rushing forward to grab the creature's hand.

It went still and stared at Stiles.

"Sorry..." Stiles muttered awkwardly, trying to remind himself that he didn't actually want to piss the creature off and grabbing at it was probably a bad idea.

He bent down to pick up the tarp he'd dropped and came face to face with Wily. The little coyote

froze, front paw raised to no doubt going flying past Stiles into the garden.

"Don't even think about it." he growled at her.

She slowly walked backwards out the gate.

Stiles quickly pulled himself and the tarp out of the garden and pulled the gate shut. He'd forgotten the runes to keep animals out didn't work if the gate was open and the little trouble maker had tried to take advantage.

The werewolf was staring down at Wily, looking mildly baffled. Wily didn't even seem to notice it. She'd been around so many different kinds of creatures one more probably wasn't very exciting.

He looked from Wily to the werewolf and back, mildly worried. As scrappy was the coyote was, the sheer size difference was ridiculous and the creature would be able to eat her in one bite.

Wily was the only one of his mom's little pets left and as indifferent as she seemed about Stiles he liked her and her plucky attitude.

Wily's ears suddenly went crazy and she took off into the woods, no doubt going after a rabbit or equally small, tasty, critter.

"You won't eat her if she comes back will you?" he asked the werewolf.

The werewolf gave a sort of awkward looking shrug. That was good enough for Stiles. It was out of his control now. Wily would either sneak into the barn and annoy the werewolf or she wouldn't.

Stiles used the spigot on the side of the barn to wash left over blood off of the tarp before leading the werewolf back into the barn, folding the dripping tarp before dropping it inside the door.

Stiles led the creature through the main hall of the barn to the back, where the steps to the hayloft started. It was the only part of the barn that didn't have a lock on it and Stiles knew instinctively that the creature would never go into any of the stalls. Not only because of the locks, there were only two stalls that would even fit the werewolf and Stiles was sure they would smell like death.

Not that the whole barn didn't smell that way but at least the hayloft had double doors that could be used as a large window. Or the werewolf could just jump through the doors down to the ground, werewolves obviously had amazingly quick healing.

Even though the whole loft was empty it still smelled slightly musty so Stiles walked over to the far wall to open up the doors and let some fresh air in.

"Sorry it's so empty in here, but no one wants to deal with rotting hay. Or heated hay." Stiles said with a shudder.

The werewolf gave a sort of grumbly sound Stiles was going to assume meant "I've slept in worse places" and Stiles smiled brightly.

"I'll just go grab some extra blankets and stuff while you make yourself at home." Stiles said, exhaustion starting to set in again now that he was almost ready to go to bed.

Stiles hurried out of the barn and into the house, sending an annoyed glance at the key rack were his father's keys were suspiciously absent.

He double checked his phone even though he was sure his dad hadn't called to ask him why he wasn't home. No missed calls or texts. Which meant his dad was working a double shift. Again.

He shuffled into his room and pulled off his damp and slightly bloody clothes before pulling on his fluffy Star Wars themed pajama pants and a blue sweater with a starfleet insignia on it.

Stiles eyed his own bed thoughtfully for a few moments before deciding he was too tired to make safe and rational choices. He grabbed an IKEA tote bag and stuffed blankets and his pillows into it.

He frowned in thought as he tried to remember where he’d left the foam mattresses he and Scott used to use to sleep in the hayloft, before Scott had been forbidden to come over for his own protection.

He found the foam mattresses in huge storage bags in the garage and dragged everything out to the barn and up to the loft.

The werewolf watched attentively as Stiles unloaded everything.

"Hope you don't mind having company!" Stiles said bright, fully prepared to ignore any protests the werewolf made, up to and including throwing Stiles out the open doors/window. If it did that Stiles would just come back and have a very large late-night snack.

Stiles laid out the mattresses pressed side to side and spread the blankets out over both before pointedly climbing under them on one mattress and turning them back so the werewolf could lay down on the other.

The creature shuffled closer, leaning over him, huge and almost threatening.

They stared at each other for a long minute before finally the creature settled on the mattress, on it's side so it could keep staring at Stiles.

"You'd better not do that all night, it's creepy." Stiles grumbled without heat. This was the perfect outcome and he didn't want the creature running off on him.

The werewolf huffed in his face pointedly and Stiles pulled the blankets over his head to hide his amusement.

***

Peter woke up feeling groggy, with the taste of blood in his mouth.

It wasn’t the first time Peter's woken up with blood in his mouth, but this time the blood doesn't taste like deer or rabbit. It tasted...odd. Like nothing he'd ever eaten before.

For some reason it was making him hungry.

It felt like the same hunger from the night before and he suddenly remembered he'd eaten not one but two hunter.

He'd never done that before, he'd never even thought about eating humans before.

But he didn't feel bad about it. He didn't feel the need to question his own humanity or wonder if he was losing himself to his nature.

He hadn't eaten Kate Argent and that showed he still had control over some of his standards.

Although he suddenly remembered he'd left about a half dozen bodies lying around the woods.

He would have to go out and take care of that before someone saw one and got concerned.

Next to him he felt the incredibly strange little creature that had hit him with a car, watched him eat two people, crush the head of a third, and had clapped like Peter had given him a private performance.

The strange little creature that had taken him home and was now cuddled up to him like Peter was a giant teddy bear and not a murderous monster.

Peter was sure the boy wasn't human so he wasn't that surprised that he'd fallen right to sleep next to Peter, although Peter had no idea what he could be.

He could feel magic inside the barn they had slept in, and even stronger magic around what Peter thought might be a garden. Both places smelled like death and old decay.

Peter could tell that a large amount of creatures had died in the barn.

But now it was empty except for a coyote Peter didn't think was really a coyote.

He could feel her too. He knew she was sitting by the stairs, watching Peter and the boy sleep.

He lifted his head to look at her and she snapped her jaws at him. He huffed softly and snapped back at her.

She didn't even blink, even though she had to be able to tell Peter could eat her in a moment.

He could admit to himself that he was a little impressed with her tenacity.

The boy grumbled and started to stretch out, one of his hands managed to smack Peter in the cheek.

"Shit, sorry." he said sleepily.

Peter huffed at him too and snapped his jaws slightly in warning. Not that it had hurt at all, Peter was just hungry and he wanted the boy to know if he didn't find Peter some food soon he'd end up on the menu.

The boy pouted but Peter didn't even blink.

He sighed deeply and rolled away from Peter and out of their makeshift bed.

He paused a moment at the sight of the coyote but walked past her with a soft pat on her head.

The coyote sent Peter a self-satisfied look before following the boy down the stairs.

Peter refused to be out done by a creature barely one tenth his size and raced after them.

***

The boy, who had started to babble the moment he'd gotten his first sip of coffee, introduced himself as Stiles and the coyote as Wily.

"You know, like the cartoon. Hey don't give me that look I was like twelve when mom brought her home, what do you expect me to have named her? Fluffy?"

After Peter had eaten a ridiculous amount of breakfast meat and felt more balanced Stiles turned to look at him in interest.

"So, do you always look so...creature like?" he asked.

Peter stared him down while he thought about his options.

Changing form used up a lot of his energy and Peter didn't want to upset his healing.

But he actually felt good. Maybe the best he'd felt in years.

All the little bullet grazes he'd gotten the night before were completely gone and the knife would that should have killed him had healed with only a faint scar Peter could barely feel through his pelt.

He was sure Stiles had done something to him, at some point, although Peter had no idea what he could have done to heal a wolfsbane wound without Peter noticing.

Kate was dead and Pete's health was fine so he didn't see why he shouldn't change shape.

He stood up from where he'd been sitting on the floor in front of Stiles' kitchen table and let the wolf skin slip away from him.

He heard Stiles' breath catch and caught the distinctive scent of interest .

That hadn't been what Peter had been expecting. He could still feel the pull of his scars along his body but the ache that he usually felt while wearing his human skin was gone.

He looked up at Stiles and caught his eye easily.

"Wow..." Stiles breathed out before physically shaking himself. "I know I should have been expecting you to be naked but I was not prepared."

Peter couldn't help but smirk at him.

Stiles cleared his throat awkwardly and jumped to his feet with a blush on his face.

"Be right back, don't go anywhere!" he yelled as he ran out of the room.

Peter and Wily shared an amused glance.

Peter looked around the kitchen as he waited, taking in room. There were drying plants hanging from a pot rack on the ceiling and runes carved into the doorways and window frames.

Someone who either had magic or knew about magic lived in this house.

Peter didn't think it was Stiles, the energy from the runes didn't feel like him but Peter could still smell the other -ness in Stiles' scent.

Stiles came stumbling back into the kitchen with an armful of clothing and Peter turned to look at him.

Weak sunlight came in through the kitchen window and caught in Stiles' eyes for a moment.

And Peter knew what he was by that deep dark red shine.

He left himself relax and take the clothes with a thank you instead of killing Stiles on the spot.

Usually the reason vampires and werewolves didn't get along was because of their different scents. Vampires smelled like decay and werewolves smelled like canines.

Or at least that's what Peter had heard. He'd never actually met a vampire before.

Just before the fire had happened he'd heard rumors that there was one in Beacon Hills but he'd never gotten the chance to go looking.

He pulled on the clothes, just a t-shirt and sweatpants that smelled like Stiles, and thought about why he didn't think Stiles' sent was unpleasant.

The taste of blood in his mouth might have something to do with it.

He'd heard that vampires could make people become addicted to the taste of their blood, that if they gave someone enough they could control them.

Peter wasn't sure if that was true.

He didn't feel an overwhelming need to drink Stiles' blood.

Although he did think that if Stiles' offered Peter probably wouldn't turn him down.

That was an odd thought but after what had happened the night before Peter had the sinking suspicion a fundamental change had happened in him.

So long as Peter didn't go around eating random towns folks he decided that the change didn't actually matter that much.

His old life was over, he might as well start making his new one interesting. And if that meant hanging around a vampire and occasionally eating sentient creatures, well, Peter knew there were worse things in the world.

He grinned toothily at Stiles and said, "It's nice to meet you Stiles, I'm Peter."

Stiles' slow and steady heartbeat skipped and Peter just smiled wider.

***

Peter might be a little bored.

He and Wily had been chasing each other through the forest and fighting over rabbits for hours but now they were back at the barn and Wily was sound asleep next to him in the hayloft.

Peter had been drifting in and out of sleep next to her but he had suddenly realized he'd gotten so used to having Stiles sleeping next to him that when Stiles wasn't there Peter couldn't sleep.

This strange codependency was making Peter mildy grumpy.

The combination of boredom and grumpiness made him want to eat something that would put up more of a fight than a bunny.

The sound of a car coming up the driveway made him sit up in interest.

The car didn't sound like the police cruiser Stiles' father drove so Peter went over to peak out the double door/windows he and Stiles always kept open.

He looked out, down the driveway, carefully because he was still wearing his wolf skin, watching for the car he could hear coming.

It drove past the barn and parked in front of the house and Peter watched a gangly looking teen with floppy hair get out and go up to the front door. The teen knocked and Peter heard him yell Stiles' name.

Peter pouted a little at the thought that this wasn't some random passerby but maybe a friend of Stiles.

In the two weeks Peter had been staying in the barn with Stiles he'd only seen glimpses of Stiles' father and Stiles certainly hadn't mentioned any friends to Peter.

And Peter was sure Stiles would have told him if he was expecting someone while Stiles was supposed to be at his only on-campus class.

The teen had given up on knocking and had turned to go back to his car when he seemed to see the open doors/window of the barn and come towards Peter.

Well, if he was just going to come into the barn Peter couldn't be held responsible for what happened to the teen.

He slipped down the stairs and hid in the deep shadows under them as he listened to the stranger walk into the barn, yelling for Stiles.

Peter felt a little odd, like he had when he'd killed Kate and her minions.

He hadn't felt like that since the night he meet Stiles. But now he felt hungry .

He licked his snout in anticipation of sinking his teeth into this trespasser.

He stalked out of the shadows into his pray's line of sight.

The teen went completely still at the sight of Peter.

Peter crept closer while his pray just stood there, paralyzed with fear.

Peter wanted a bit of a chase, even if he knew he could catch the teen in a moment if he ran, but just killing him in one bite wouldn't be any fun.

So Peter started to growl, low and threatening.

The sound seemed to wake his pray up because he suddenly spun around and took off out of the barn.

Peter grinned and took off after him.

He didn't get very far though.

Stiles had gotten home without Peter even noticing and he was far more interesting than some little snack.

Peter instantly changed course and threw himself onto Stiles, catching him and rolling them both through the yard in front of the house.

He heard Stiles' breath stutter and felt him shiver against Peter as Peter fit his jaws around Stiles' shoulder and bit down gently.

He wasn't sure what had made him bite Stiles. He was just glad he hadn't accidently bitten him on the neck or worse, bitten his head literally off.

He opened his mouth and pulled back enough to reach one paw/hand out to claw open Stiles' shirt so Peter could lick at the little puncture wounds that were bleeding sluggishly.

He felt more than heard Stiles moan, and he definitely felt Stiles press up into him, his hands gripping handfuls of his pelt.

Peter had gotten so distracted by the taste that he'd completely forgotten he'd been chasing someone until he felt a sharp sting of pain on his back.

His head shot up and he snarled deeply at the teen who was standing over him with a large tree branch in his hands and a determined look on his face.

"Get off of him!" he yelled, holding the branch up threateningly.

Peter started to pull himself up, ready to actually kill the teen, when Stiles started to laugh. He sounded a little hysterical so Peter looked down at him in concern.

His face was flushed lightly and his eyes were a little glassy. Peter thought it was a good look on him.

"Jesus Scott, he's not going to eat me." Stiles paused for a moment before blushing harder and adding, "Er, not in a bad way anyway."

Peter smirked as much as he could without lips.

Scott didn't look at all convinced that Peter wouldn't hurt him or Stiles. He continued to glare at Peter, as if he thought that would scare him away.

Stiles sighed deeply and started to shove lightly at Peter's chest, trying to get him to move out of the way.

Peter shifted slightly, just enough to let Stiles sit up, and he did, shifting around to press his side up against Peter's chest.

"So...Scott, this is Peter." Stiles said, waving his hand awkwardly at Peter. "Peter, this is Scott."

Peter flashed his teeth just because he could.

Scott flinched. "Stiles what the fuck?" he whispered loudly, wildly waving around the branch he was still holding.

Stiles shrugged. "I hit him with the jeep and took him home to nurse him back to health."

Peter found it very interesting that Stiles wasn't telling Scott the whole truth and that Scott didn't seem to know that Stiles was other .

"What is it?" Scott asked, lowering his branch slightly but still looking distrustful.

Stiles shrugged again. "I have no idea. Maybe he's like a mutated wolf. Or a descendant of Lon Chaney Jr."

Scott looked confused and mildly annoyed while Peter huffed in amusement.

Stiles tipped his head back to grin up at Peter before looking back at Scott again. "Look Scott, I'm sorry if Peter scared you. I promise if you come over again he won't try to eat you but my dad's going to be home soon and I really don't want to have to explain to him where Peter came from, you know how he is when I come home with stray animals-"

Scott cut off Stiles' babble. "I don't like this. I know your mom taught you a lot about animals but that's not a normal animal."

Stiles sighed. "You're not going to let this go are you?"

Scott got a mulish look on his face. "I can tell that thing's dangerous."

Stiles sighed even deeper and pulled himself to his feet. He sent Peter a pleading look and gently pet at his snout. "Could you hang out in the barn until Scott leaves?" he asked quietly.

Peter pulled himself up to his full height, making him tower over both Scott and Stiles. He gave Stiles' head a pat back before making his way back to the barn.

He wanted to know what they were going to talk about but he knew the runes in the house would stop him from being able to hear them. He felt oddly uncomfortable at the thought of

Stiles being alone with someone, even if Scott looked like a helpless puppy and Peter knew without a doubt Stiles could very easily take care of himself.

He let himself shift out of his wolf skin and into his human shape, pulling on some sweat pants Stiles had given him. He made a mental note that he should probably try to sort the human side of his life out. Not that there was much to sort out after spending six years in a coma.

It took almost an hour for Scott to leave and Stiles to come to the barn.

Peter watched him as he came up the stairs and over to where Peter was laying on their makeshift bed.

Stiles didn't hesitate to flop down next to him before wiggling so that he could curl into Peter's side and rest his head on Peter's chest. One hand almost automatically coming up to lightly tease the fading scars on Peter’s skin.

That was one of the most confusing part of Stiles, the way he would seek out physical contact and affection from Peter without restraint.

Before Peter's life had essentially ended he knew he wouldn't have accepted the way Stiles got into his space but now that he was an alpha without a pack he relished the easy way they could share space, Stiles' presence soothing a wild part of Peter that he knew could have drove him even more crazy than he already was.

"So who was that?" Peter asked, one hand moving almost without thought to run through Stiles' short hair while the other stroked up and down Stiles' back.

Stiles made a soft sort of content sound and cuddle closer. "I told you, that was Scott."

Peter hummed in agreement. "Yes, but that doesn't really answer my question."

Stiles huffed softly. "He's my best friend."

Peter found it telling that he'd known Stiles for two weeks and this was the first time Scott was being mentioned. Just as telling as how much time Stiles' father spent at work and how obvious it was Stiles was starved for affection.

"We used to go to school together, before mom pulled me out."

Peter had heard a little about Stiles' mother. He knew she was who Stiles had gotten his more violent tendencies from and that she'd died several years before.

Peter had also be able to deduce things about her. Like that she'd kept either humans or other beings in the barn, most likely to keep herself and Stiles fed. That she hadn't trusted anyone, including Stiles and his father.

And that Stiles talked to her sometimes, like she was in the room with him. Peter supposed that was enough to make his crazy and Stiles’ crazy a matched set.

"You still keep in touch though?" Peter asked, even if he thought he already knew the answer he wanted to hear Stiles' take on his and Scott's friendship.

"We text a lot but he doesn't usually come over, not after mom punched his mom." Stiles winced and smiled at the same time, no doubt that was an interesting story in and of itself.

"So what brought him over today?" Peter asked, trying to keep Stiles on track.

Stiles smirked and shook his head. "He got a girlfriend and wanted to tell me about her."

Peter rolled his eyes. Teenage boys were all the same.

"Did you manage to convince him to keep me to himself?" Peter asked in exasperation.

"Eh..." Stiles said, raising a hand to see saw it back and forth. "I might have had to persuade him with some mind alternating substances."

Peter didn't even try to stop himself from chuckling. "Did you hypnotize him too?"

Stiles tipped his head back to grin up at him. "I might have, a tiny little bit."

Peter leaned down to nuzzle Stiles' hair. "I'm not surprised."

Stiles had a ruthless streak a mile wide. It was certainly one of the things Peter liked most about him.

They were quite for a few minutes while Peter made contingency plans in case Scott decided to be difficult in the future and Stiles absently drew designs on Peter's chest with his fingertips.

"So..." Stiles started hesitantly, biting his lip and glancing up at Peter through his lashes. "I'm going to have to go out tonight to get some...groceries."

Peter raised an eyebrow. He was pretty sure groceries were a euphemism, considering they’d gone actual grocery shopping the day before.

"Or..." Stiles breathed, looking up at Peter in interest.

And there it was. Peter had been waiting for Stiles to ask. Peter had suspected that Stiles had gotten a taste of Peter's blood when they had first meet. And Peter knew he had gotten a taste of Stiles. He could still taste him sometimes. Whether that was just his imagination or Stiles actually feeding Peter drops of his blood Peter had no idea.

He didn't even think it matter very much.

Peter had already decided he was going to be keeping Stiles as pack and if Stiles was willing to keep feeding Peter his blood than obviously he wanted to keep Peter around.

Peter had just been waiting for Stiles to bring it up first.

Usually Peter would have been dropping hints about how he knew Stiles was feeding him his blood and how Peter wanted Stiles in his pack but Peter thought that in this case actions would speak louder than words.

So Peter indulged Stiles. Not that Stiles actually asked for much. Either because he was afraid to push too hard or because he really didn't need much Peter wasn’t sure. But Peter suspected part of the reason for most of what Stiles did was because of his absent parents and physical isolation from others.

Well Peter wasn't going to complain when the unspoken deal between them was so mutually beneficial.

And now Stiles was finally asking Peter for what Peter was sure was his original reason for taking him home in the first place.

"Or?" Peter teased.

Stiles pouted at him but Peter wasn't going to go easy on him. If Stiles wanted what Peter thought he wanted he was going to have to ask for it.

Stiles pouted even harder when Peter didn't say anything else. "Well, I'm sure you've figured out what I am by now..."

Peter raised both eyebrows questioningly. "Have I?"

Stiles groaned and covered his face for a moment before he sighed deeply and said in a rush.

"I've got a lot of vampire-like tendencies and would like it very much if instead of going out I could have a little bit of your blood."

Peter thought 'vampire-like' was an interesting way to put what Stiles was. It implied that Stiles' human father was also his biological father and that Stiles' had not inherited all the traits his mother had had. It might also explain why he and Peter could stand to be so close to each other.

It also made Stiles that much more interesting. Peter had never met someone who was only part of a creature.

Stiles peaked out from behind his fingers at Peter questioningly.

Peter smirked at him. "All you have to ask sweetheart. I don't want you going hungry."

Stiles beamed at him in relief and Peter was suddenly disappointed Stiles had changed his shirt and covered up the little marks Peter was sure he's fangs had left behind.

"Can I...?" Stiles asked, still hesitant but obviously starting to gain his confidence back now that

Peter was being so accommodating. He reached out and curled his fingers around Peter's arm, pulling it from where Peter had wrapped it around Stiles at some point.

Peter let Stiles do what he wanted, fascinated by what was going to happen.

Stiles settled his head back down onto Peter's chest and rolled a little onto his back, holding

Peter's wrist over his mouth while Peter's free hand gently grabbed a handful of Stiles' hair in anticipation. Or just in case Stiles accidentally tried to take too much. Even if Peter doubted Stiles would it was always better to be safe than sorry. And Stiles hadn't told Peter to let go of him.

Peter watched intently as Stiles brought Peter's wrist to his mouth and sank his little pointed fangs into him. He felt a slight pinch before a soft sort of gentle satisfaction came over him.

It wasn't the feeling he'd been expecting to get. He'd heard rumors that when a vampire bit their pray the pray felt euphoric and at ease so that they wouldn't try to fight back. There were even more unfounded rumors about sexual gratification but Peter wouldn't need Stiles to bite him to be interested so that might have had something to do with what Peter was feeling.

Or maybe it had something to do with Peter's new alpha status. He knew alphas were hardwired to want to take care of their pack. Stiles was Peter's only pack member and Peter was literally giving Stiles his life blood to keep Stiles alive.

Or, of course, there was always the third option of Peter’s asexuality. Maybe Stiles’ couldn’t affect him.

In the end Peter didn't think it really mattered why he was feeling what he was feeling so long as it was all positive emotions. And Stiles was very obviously feeling enough sexual gratification for the both of them.

Peter breathed in deeply, taking in Stiles' heavy scent. Peter had gotten hints of it before but never so strongly.

Stiles moaned deeply and Peter felt his tongue flick against the thin skin of wrist, felt Stiles start to suck on his skin.

Maybe the sexual aspect had just been temporarily delayed...

Peter forced himself to loosen his grip on Stiles' hair, focusing on kneading Stiles’ scalp with his fingertips instead.

Stiles' breath hitched and he pulled his mouth away from Peter's wrist with a filthy wet sound.

Stiles didn't let go of Peter's arm so Peter held still to see what else he was going to do.

Stiles stared to lave at Peter's skin, little kitten licks with his tongue to clean up any leftover blood. Peter could see the bite marks that should have been there had already healed over.

"Did you even get enough?" Peter asked, surprised when his voice came out sounding more strained than he'd be expecting. Stiles might be having a bigger effect on him that he had at the start.

Stiles made a sort of strangled sound and rolled over to jam his mouth onto Peter's.

Surprised by the sudden kiss Peter held still as Stiles desperately nipped at Peter's bottom lip, dragging his sharp teeth into his skin and drawing more of Peter's blood into his mouth.

Peter huffed softly and caught Stiles' head between his hands, gently tilting his head to let their mouths lineup more comfortably.

Stiles sighed and relaxed against his chest, the desperation he's obviously been feeling fading away as Peter easily kissed him back.

Finally Stiles pulled back and Peter caught a glimpse of shiny pink lips smeared with blood before Stiles ducked his head down to Peter's neck.

Peter's hands slipped from Stiles' face, one going up to cup the back of his head and grip a handful of hair again and the other stroking down Stiles' back.

Peter halfheartedly tried to distract Stiles from his neck by sliding his hand even further down his back to squeeze Stiles' ass but that just seemed to just encourage him. Peter felt Stiles bite at his neck.

Peter sighed and kneaded Stiles' ass as he shifted to slide his thigh between Stiles' thighs, giving him something to grind against.

Stiles seemed to like that. He sucked hard on Peter's neck and ground his hips against Peter's thigh. He wiggled so hard and ungracefully that he got dangerously close to kneeing Peter in the dick. That would be a fast way to put a damper on what they were doing.

Peter let go of Stiles' head to hold onto his hip, to help Stiles find the best angle.

Stiles sighed in relief and let Peter rearrange him. A few more thrusts and Stiles was cumming with a soft deep groan.

Peter nuzzled into his hair and didn't even try to stop himself from kissing Stiles' sweaty temple.

"Feel better sweetheart?" he asked in amusement, hoping Stiles didn't think he was laughing at him.

Sites made incoherent mumbling and Peter chuckled.

"That's good." he murmured and kissed Stiles' temple again, taking in his happy and sated scent.

Stiles breathed long deep against him for a few minutes before pulling himself up a little to look at Peter.

He blinked, looking a little dazed, still flushed with the fresh blood, Peter's blood , pumping through his veins.

"Um. Was that okay?" Stiles asked eloquently.

Peter smiled at him. "Of course it was."

Stiles bit at his lip nervously. "But ah...you didn't..."

Peter shrugged as much as he could with someone lying on his chest. "I assure you I am very satisfied."

Stiles still looked mildly worried so Peter distracted him by rolling them over, pinning Stiles against the mattress and kissing him soundly.

By the time they were done Stiles seemed to have forgotten about what they were talking about and instead got distracted by the drying cum in his pants.

Peter let him go clean himself up in the bathroom downstairs and thought about his life.

He’d thought a lot about what kind of pack he would have if he ever managed to become an alpha. One sort-of vampire hadn't been what he had thought of but he decided he felt content with his choice.

***

Stiles was mildly embarrassed that he'd cum in his pants without even giving Peter a helping hand. Not that Peter had asked for one.

Stiles knew he'd be more upset if Peter hadn't smelled genuinely pleased with himself. Stiles' sense of smell wasn't as strong as a werewolf's but he could sense things better than a human could.

Peter had smelled pleased and satisfied, not in the least bit unhappy with that had happened. That was enough to fend off most of Stiles' insecurities.

Stiles himself felt pretty pleased about what had happened. He'd barely had to ask Peter for his blood and now he felt warm and sated, stuffed full in a way that usually took two full humans, not a few big mouthfuls of blood.

Stiles figured it was the werewolf part. Stiles thought vampires who avoided werewolves were really missing out.

Stiles and Peter's mutually beneficial relationship was working out so much better than Stiles could have hoped for.

At lease on Stiles' end. He wasn't exactly sure what Peter was getting out of it other than free room and board and Stiles’ company.

Peter hadn't complained about anything that wasn't Wily bothering him when he was trying to sleep.

He also seemed to like spending time with Stiles. Something that few people did voluntarily.

It made Stiles' heart skip every time he thought about it.

He couldn't even blame it on Peter being under his thrall. Stiles was too familiar with the glassy-eyed mindless obedience a real thrall had.

He thought it was actually a relief that Peter was acting under his own free will. It made their strange developing relationship even better.

Scott's unexpected visitor had but a bit of a damper on his good mood. He'd reminded Stiles that there were a few people whose world didn't revolve around him.

Not that Scott had any room to talk. When they had been younger Scott's obliviousness had been almost enduring but now that he was finally starting to enter adulthood Stiles found it draining.

While Stiles had appreciated Scott's attempt at saving him from Peter it was a painful reminder that Scott didn't know about Stiles' otherness .

Scott was Stiles' first and oldest friend and he didn't even know about a huge chunk of Stiles' life.

Peter knew. He could probably sense how much death Stiles had seen throughout his life.

He'd definitely noticed the times when Stiles wasn't fully in his right mind, when his mom tried to drag him off on ill-advised adventures in the woods.

But he just followed Stiles around like he wanted to see what kind of mess Stiles could make.

It soothed a part of himself that he hadn't realized ached.

The parts that hurt when his dad flinched away from him and Scott looked at him as if he was crazy.

Peter didn't look at Stiles like he was crazy.

Stiles had managed to catch and hold his attention without putting him under his thrall and it was amazing .

***

A deep terrifying growl woke Stiles up from a deep exhausted sleep.

He blinked blearily as Peter rolled to his feet, his wolf skin sliding over his body in a moment. Stiles was as impressed by that as he always was.

He thought that maybe Wily had stolen Peter's pillow again and Peter was going to chase her down and actually eat her like he was always threatening to do but than he heard heartbeats outside and smelled smoke.

Stiles pulled himself to his feet, baffled over what was happening. He watched Peter jump out of the open barn doors/window and started to follow him only to trip over Wily. She was shaking and whining softly so he bent over and scooped her up into his arms and walked over to see what Peter was doing.

He stared down at where Peter was pushing at what seemed like an invisible wall while the garden burned. There were over half a dozen people standing around watching Peter and the fire.

Stiles heard one of the people, it sounded like an old man, laugh and say "Aw, Peter don't wear yourself out just yet, we hadn't even gotten to the house yet!"

Stiles glared at the group and shifted his grip on Wily so he could lean out the window and flick his free hand like he was showing away a fly.

There would only be one reason Peter couldn't cross a line and that would be because it was made out of mountain ash. One of the first lessons his mom had ever taught him was how to break a mountain ash with his hands literally tied behind his back and his eyes blindfolded.

"Hunter's are stupid and almost always use the same tricks, Stiles. You just have to be faster and smarter than them."

He watched as Peter stumbled over the sudden loss of wall. Everyone was still for a moment before Peter roared and pounced on the nearest person.

Stiles sat down with Wily on his lap to watch the show.

Peter, of course, didn't play with his food. He rendered the hunters limb from limb and didn't stop until there were only two left. Stiles could tell by their body language and the way they were clinging to each other that they weren't fully trained yet.

They'd probably thought it would be easy to kill Peter. He was just one alpha without a pack. That's what they'd thought at least. They didn't know what Stiles was.

Not that Stiles had even done anything.

Peter stalked slowly towards the last two and Stiles heard one of them start to scream his name.

He sighed deeply and set Wily down with a pat.

He slipped out the window and down to the ground. He walked over to Peter and leaned against him to look Scott and the strange girl next to him over.

"Scott...." Stiles said, shaking his head in disappointment.

"I...I didn't... I thought it was just a dream!" Scott yelled, obviously terrified.

Peter rumbled questioningly and Stiles stroked his arm soothingly.

"Scott...You know I like you..."

In Stiles' mind's eye he saw his father standing over his mother with his shotgun, horror on his face. He had never been the same after that and Stiles knew the same thing would happen to him if he let Peter kill Scott.

"Scott you're going to have to come drink some more tea with me." Stiles said, trying to sound soothing as he grabbed Scott's arm and pulled him away from the girl.

"No, what about Allison?" Scott asked desperately. He tried to pull away from Stiles but he wasn't strong enough.

"Don't worry about her, she'll be fine." Stiles lied, glancing back to watch as the girl took off into the woods and Peter chased after her.

***

Once Scott had been drugged out of his mind and put to bed Stiles went back outside to help Peter clean up.

The runes around the garden had managed to keep the fire contained and Peter had been able to put it out with just the garden hose.

"It was a good thing they were trying to be dramatic assholes and didn't catch the barn on fire." Stiles said, pressing his chest against Peter's naked back.

Peter shook his head in disgust and gently ran his hands over Stiles' arms. "Gerard Argent was an over-confident fool."

Stiles frowned at the ruined garden and the pieces of dead bodies lying around the yard. "You know what I've been meaning to do for years?"

Peter hummed questioningly.

"Replant the garden with less murderous plants."

Peter was quiet for a moment before he started to laugh, loud and deep. "Yeah, let's replant the garden."

"We need to clean up before dad gets home and asks some awkward questions."

Peter chuckled and turned around to cup Stiles' face in his hands. He brushed a kiss against his forehead, his eyelids, his cheeks, his mouth.

Stiles looked up at Peter, scared and beautiful in the moonlight, and felt genuinely happy.

#steter reverse big bang #steter #my fics #lol oops i'm so behind

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usermischief · 5 years

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The Heart He Owes

Warning: Major Character Death

Stiles has dealt with death so often, he feels invincible.

It’s a by-product of fighting with werewolves for years and still coming out on top - despite skin made of papyrus and bones of porcelain. It will inevitably go to your head. Stiles should know better. No, he does know better, and yet, he still finds himself surprised when he happens to end up in a position of imminent death.

But maybe, it’s the circumstances surrounding his demise. Because death doesn’t come to him out of his own recklessness. It doesn’t come because he finally bit off more than he can chew. This weird acceptance of his own mortality has always been part of him. He looked it in the eye just moments ago when he stepped into Deucalion’s path and brought his baseball bat down. The werewolf caught it, laughing, and did what Stiles expected – he crushed it with his hand. It took not even half a minute for Deucalion to realise he’s made a crucial mistake. Underestimating Stiles. Werewolves tend to do that with weak, easily breakable humans. But their species is just as vulnerable if you know how to hurt them.

And Stiles knows.

He worked on his bat for this very special moment. He worked on this bat with Theo’s doubtful blue eyes directed at him. He worked on this bat to kill Deucalion. And he did. Seeing his body collapse after the yellow wolfsbane entered his body filled Stiles with a kind of satisfaction he can’t fathom to put into words. He stayed, watched the self-declared Demon Wolf die and stepped over his lifeless body, left him to rot until someone else will find him. Someone had to finish what Scott wouldn’t and Derek couldn’t.

Stiles came here to kill, and this is his punishment.

Just that it’s not meant to punish him.

Stiles reached the scene when Kira slammed her sword in the ground. He reached the scene only seconds too late to stop it. As the floor rumbles, so do his bones. It’s like he knows before it happens that something is wrong. His stomach drops and his chest contorts. He presses a hand over his heart. The baseball bat’s remnants fall from his fingers. Nobody sees. Nobody notices. Everyone is too busy watching the ground crack and splinter and break.

He’s invisible only a few feet away from his pack. He’s invisible because of vigilantism. See, there’s a reason street justice has been banned by the law. It will destroy the lives of the innocent. You’re always a bad person in someone else’s story. You’re always hated by someone. But Stiles doesn’t judge Kira for doing what she did. He did the same thing mere moments ago. The only difference is that he had the guts to do it himself rather than let someone else do his dirty work.

Theo steps back as the cracks in the ground reach him. For about a second, they stop right underneath his feet – Stiles sucks in a breath before panic can steal it from him, makes a move towards Theo before fear can paralyse his body. Maybe he’s wrong. Maybe this feeling in his chest comes from something else. Maybe it stems from whispers in the dark night, from hands roaming over bodies safely hidden underneath covers, from stolen kisses where nobody can see, from knowing he’s about to lose it all.

It’s probably selfish that the panic leaves when the cracks move further, move past Theo. It’s probably selfish that his first thought doesn’t go to his father, whose life will be easier without him, or his friends, who survived so many deaths his will be just another drop in the ocean. Instead, he realises that the nightmares are going to stop now, that he won’t have to live with this anxiety, guilt, and rage clashing underneath his skin, that he doesn’t have to be in a world without him, that he can see his mom again. The monster will die with him.

“No, no- Stiles!”

His name echoes from the walls, and maybe it’s the way Theo says it, or maybe it’s the way Stiles interprets it, that makes him understand, ‘this is how I die’. He expected a thought like this to be linked to panic, to a survival instinct, would lead to him running or fighting back. But he just stands there and takes a single step aside, almost as if he wants to give Tara more room as she heaves herself out of the ground; an abstract construct of muscles and bones that shouldn’t be able to function yet somehow does.

And it’s lethal.

And it’s coming to get him.

Out of the corner of his eyes, Stiles sees Theo break into a sprint. Time, however, is a funny construct when it comes to death. Somehow you have time to remember all the important moments of your life – hugging his father, Lydia smiling at him, his first ever lacrosse goal, his parents watching him tearing the paper of a Christmas present, the night in the woods, Theo crouching in his window frame – and still you don’t have the modicum of a chance to avoid it. Because Tara has already placed her hand on his cheek. She’s already close enough for her rotten breath to file over his face. But Theo is still so far away.

When it happens, it barely takes time. A split second of nothing but the feeling of something burying deep into his stomach, of something cutting through him that doesn’t belong in his body, that doesn’t belong to him.

Then it’s over.

Stiles wonders if maybe this is his fault, if this is his punishment after all. Actions have consequences, even those long forgotten; but Stiles remembers. He remembers Theo standing on his doorstep, nine years old and crying, begging him to listen for just five minutes, two, just one. Stiles, please, you’re the only one- He’s never learned what he is the only one for because he’s had a shitty day at the hospital and a shitty argument with Scott and when Theo stood there with even more problems, Stiles broke one of the two promises he gave his mother; never be angry with your father before he goes to work, never turn away people who need your aid.

He didn’t help Theo that night. A decision that caused Tara to die in the creek, slowly, painfully, helplessly. His decision is the catalyst for all that has happened in Beacon Hills over the last few weeks. He should’ve let him in, should’ve shown Theo the smallest amount of pity. He should’ve listened to him. Isn’t it quite ironic how choosing Scott over Theo would kickstart his own death? That when he slammed the door shut, telling him they can’t be friends, the clock started ticking?

It’s about to hit zero.

Lydia’s scream echoes through the tunnels, broken and damaged, a voice torn to shreds. Stiles still hears Tara’s rattled breathing, her dead voice whispering, “I take from him what he took from me.” His life? His freedom? His trust? What did she take by killing Stiles? What would Theo lose if she-

His heart.

Oh.

His knees give way and he falls into Theo’s arm, safe, sound, and it still doesn’t hurt.

Tara crumbles to dust while his blood paints the ground. He sees her smile. Her job is done, her purpose fulfilled. Stiles doesn’t find it in him to be angry with her. He did the same thing. Hatred coming full-circle. He killed Deucalion out of revenge. His friends dragged her from hell for the same reason, and Tara came for vengeance on her brother.

“Stiles, Stiles, look at me.”

He does, with effort, and when he tries to raise his hand, Theo grabs it, intertwines their fingers. Stiles smiles, or at least he thinks he does. Maybe it looks as painfully fake as Theo’s. They both know, don’t they? Theo presses his free hand on the gash in his stomach.

Stiles heaves a breath. “You gotta- take care of- of Dad.”

Theo shakes his head. “It’s not that bad.” He’s obviously lying. Theo has to smell the blood Stiles tastes in his mouth. That’s never a good sign. That’s never- “I’ll take care of you. I’ll get you fixed.” There’s nothing he can do. There’s nothing that’ll help. He’s not a werewolf, not a chimera to be brought back by the Dread Doctors’ sciences. Stiles is dying, already dead. Theo should know that. Of all people, Theo should know how death works. He’s caused it often enough.

“It’s- it’s okay.” It’s just so cold. So, goddamn cold.

“No, don’t say that.” Theo looks up, the smile vanishing for an expression of helplessness. A tear runs down his face. Followed by another. Their friendship ended with tears. It’s not fair that it happens again.

Stiles knows they’re not alone. Not at all. His friends are there. He can feel them. They won’t end up alone. They will never be alone. It’s Theo he has to protect from breaking. Stiles opens his mouth, watches his blood drop from his bottom lip. His eyes grow heavy. He’s tired. And cold. But mostly so tired. “Theo,” he forces out, his voice a grotesque copy of what it used to be. Cracking. Broken. Quiet. “Theo,” he repeats, and he can taste the iron on his tongue, a tinge of salt. He tastes death. The coughing is what gets his attention. Theo looks down again, pulls Stiles further up. He’s sitting now but that doesn’t help. His head falls forward, against his shoulder. If he closes his eyes, he’ll fall asleep. Just like that.

He’ll fall asleep.

But not yet. He can’t. Not yet. Not until-

“What?”

I love you. His mouth doesn’t move. The words won’t come. Stiles stares at their intertwined fingers, tries to squeeze again, and notices how his view slowly starts to blur. As if someone pulls a thin layer of film over his eyes. At least, the last thing he sees is something nice, something peaceful.

“Scott, Scott!” Theo yells, his voice cracking as well – and Stiles tries not to think about how he must hear his heartbeat slowing down. “You have to help him. Do something.” The despair carves a hole into his chest. It’s selfish to hope that he will fall asleep warm and safe and painless. It’s selfish to ask Theo to hold him until it’s over, to keep him warm until there’s nothing left. It’s selfish to ask him to be strong, to play pretend just so he can die with a smile on his lips.

Stiles tries to look up, to see his face one more time. But he can’t. “’s too late.” The bite won’t take. He doesn’t want it to. They can’t risk it. This is okay. The nightmare ends. Stiles doesn’t want to become another Paige, doesn’t want to see Theo suffer because he caused Stiles pain for his own selfish reasons. He doesn’t want to become another monster. “Okay… I’m okay.” He leans his head against Theo’s chest, closes his eyes. His heart beats strong, and he’s warm. So warm. Their little world is perfect. Quiet. Painless. Theo will survive. He will move on. Find someone who knows how to handle him. Find someone like Stiles. Someone better.

There’s still one more thing. One wish. Just one. “Theo, promise me-“ Stiles squeezes his hand. Tries to. But his fingers barely twitch, and his eyes won’t open, and his lips barely part. It’s all going to be over soon. It’s going to be peaceful. He’ll just- he’ll sleep. And when he wakes up, his mom will be there. “Promise-“ ‘don’t bring me back.’ The words don’t come. I love you. His mouth doesn’t work.

This is the ugly part. His sentence unfinished. His body impossible to warm. He doesn’t feel Theo’s hand any longer, doesn’t hear his heartbeat. His world shrinks.

“You’re going to be as good as new.”

It shrinks until there’s nothing left but the taste of blood in his mouth. He can’t see his mom. He can’t see the light. It’s dark where he goes. It’s empty where he will rest. And maybe, just maybe, that’s okay too.

Silence. Everlasting peaceful silence. It’s almost sad. He liked the kid. He was a nuisance, sure, but he was strong, got spunk and had a knack for trouble. But he has to remember, the world is young. He is eternal. They will see each other again. In another body, another life. Sometimes even the most promising people become collateral damage. Sometimes they have to make room for something better, someone who knows what to do. This body vibrates with raw and brutal power, with unrefined and ancient magic. He’ll make good use of it. He’ll take care of it. And when their paths cross again, he will make sure nothing will tear them apart ever again.

Mortals believe death is irreversible. He’s walked the earth long enough to know that’s not the case. Destiny’s humour is rather crude, its plans predictable. They will meet. That’s inevitable. Until then, he’ll have some fun with the boy who considers himself a god. He certainly has their arrogance. For now, he is going to show his gratitude. After all, he wouldn’t be here without him. He expected the best friend to make a desperate decision to save Stiles. But his priorities laid elsewhere. A wise decision.

Theo will learn that dead things shouldn’t be trifled with.

He sits up when the door to the animal clinic opens. Footsteps. More than he remembers. They must’ve heard his heartbeat. The loss of invisibility will take some time to get used to. He controls his expression and his features follow, the body moves fluidly, the magic dances at his fingertips. It’s almost boring. Almost too easy. He misses the human’s spirit, his fight.

His gaze darts to the door of the room he awoke in, watches quietly as those naive, ignorant teenagers pile into the room, thinking they saved their friend, thinking they won.

But he told them.

He warned them they can’t kill him. Did they really believe this caricature of a body was him? Did they really believe catching a fly in a wooden box would be the end? That poor, poor fly. They may not have killed him but they delayed his plans. And for that, there will be hell to pay.

His eyes find blue ones, and he smiles, tears stinging in his eyes. “Theo,” he breathes, buries his face in the crook of the boy’s neck after he hauled him into an embrace. Breathless laughter, a sob. Fingers curl into soft fabric.

Their clock starts ticking.

He smiles.

Stiles is dead. Long live Void.

#steo #stiles stilinski #theo raeken #teen wolf #*tv:teen wolf #*w:complete #*s:steo

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