Summary: Is losing a lover enough to make a werewolf go feral? Probably not, especially not several years after the fact, but why take the chance if you can guilt your baby brother into finally making a move on the human he’s been pining after for years?
Talia didn’t expect the idiot (she loves him, but really!?) to suggest they’d pretend
“I’m sorry, could you repeat that” the young man behind the counter said, pointedly rubbing his ear as if he was worried there was something wrong with his hearing, “’cause that sounded an awful lot like something my dad, you know the Sheriffwithwolfsbane bullets, would have some strong opinions about.” If it had been anybody else Peter probably wouldn’t have growled at the suggestion but on the other hand, had it been anybody else the sound would’ve made them cower in fear rather than dial up the shit-eating grin the man was sporting.
“I never suggested payment,” he ground out, going for flirtatious and landing somewhere in the outskirts of the solar system, but at least Stiles looked a little bit worried, already reaching for one of the chocolate chip cookies that were Peter’s favorite. Mollified by the gesture Peter put the newspaper he was holding on the counter top, turning it so Stiles could read the headline that had made him come into Nearly Home(brewed), the coffee shop Stiles had bought a few years ago when he’d come home with a brand new college degree that was currently hanging on the wall in his small office for money he’d borrowed from Peter’s sister, Talia. Well, Talia hadn’t intended for it to be a loan, considering both Stiles and the Sheriff were pack and had been since Stiles’ best friend, Scott, had gotten bit by a feral alpha while visiting his father, but Stiles had proved to be far more stubborn than the Hale matriarch and had paid back every penny with interest. Of course, much of his turnover came from the Hales anyway and so Talia had graciously accepted it with minimal complaint.
Written by twothumbsandnostakeincanon (somanyofthekids)
Read by bri
Teen Wolf - Peter Hale/Stiles Stilinski - Teen & Up
Additional tags: Depression, Suicidal Thoughts, Amnesia, Angst with a Happy Ending, starts immediately after season 1, Psychologists & Psychiatrists, Reincarnation, Dream Sharing, kind of
Podfic Length: 45 - 60 minutes
Audio Format: Streaming or MP3
I recorded this for the Steter Secret Santa 2021 event and had a lot of fun! It’s my longest and most ambitious podfic yet, and I tried to add some sound effects and do some things I hadn’t done yet. My giftee doesn’t have a tumblr but I hope they enjoy it!
Characters: Peter Hale, Stiles Stilinski, Derek Hale, Lydia Martin, Allison ArgentScott McCall (Teen Wolf), Jackson Whittemore, Erica Reyes, Original Female Character(s)
Additional Tags: Spark Stiles Stilinski, Alpha Peter Hale, Caring Peter Hale, Werewolf Mates, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Getting Together, Denial of Feelings, Scott McCall & Stiles Stilinski Friendship, Touch-Starved, Steter Secret Santa 2021
Summary: In the midst of the fight with another pack Stiles finds himself in danger, nobody is there to help him against a werewolf ready to kill him. Stiles’ magic protects him, but remaining alive comes at a high price: only Peter stands at Stiles’ side when everyone is terrified of him.
Hi, this is my gift for the lovely @tsubame17 for the Steter Secret Santa 2021 (@stetersecretsanta2021), an Addams Family inspired AU!
Claudia might or might not be an undead witch, Sheriff Stilinski is… something and Stiles is an adorable little shadow who makes friends with Peter over screeching sisters and murderous waterfowl.
I hope I managed to make something interesting, maybe even make you crack a smile or two…?
My Steter Secret Santa gift for @lucky-bishop is here! I hope you like it; you were a joy to write for. :) thank you to the mods for putting @stetersecretsanta2021 together! It’s been a blast. And thank you to the lovely @meggie-stardust for beta-ing this!
Summary:“When did we get so old!” Stiles blurts out. It comes out less like a question and more like an indignant shout.
That makes Peter look up, his hand dropping from the edge of the paper.
“Speak for yourself, sweetheart. Besides, I thought I banned all use of the ‘o’ word in this house.” Peter narrows his eyes, but the corners of his mouth are quirking up.
Stiles and Peter have been together a long time. It’s only natural to hit a rut every now and then, but Peter knows exactly how to reignite that spark.
Basically: husbands who can still GET IT no matter how much time has passed.
As the least wonderful time of the year approaches, Peter finally gives in to his curiosity and takes the unmarked red journal from the shelf. It promises an adventure, but he gets so much more than expected.
“Darling?” Peter calls from the front door, startling the spark while he’s making hot chocolate in the kitchen.
Stiles flails, only just managing not to knock over the bottle of peppermint schnapps with a rogue elbow. One would think with that little rune underneath his ear that the younger man would actually be able to hear better like it’s intention. But, well, can he really be blamed when he’s trying to make sure he doesn’t burn the milk on the stove? His mate has been gone for an hour now trying to find the perfect tree to cut down and even a werewolf should have the luxury of hot cocoa after being in the snow.
Vicious alpha and his trickster mage mate protect their territory with violence and a shared sly smirk. Read more backstory under the cut or on AO3 here!
Fandom: Teen Wolf Pairing: Steter Rate: M Warning/Tags: Rape/Non-con Elements, not Derek friendly, Sterek is not endgame, Unreliable Narrator, sex pollen made them do it, Hallucinations, Fuck Or Die, Mage Stiles Stilinski, Hurt/Comfort, Dark, Angst, Peter is in a terrible situation, Good Peter Hale, Happy Ending, Steter Secret Santa 2021, Additional Warnings In Author’s Note, Witches
Summary: “I need to catch some witches and move them to another world. It is, after all, my job to protect the pack even if they don’t want me,” Stiles replied, enjoying the feeling of Peter kissing his cheek. The warmth from the beta was still there, giving him a bit of strength through the pack bond—even if the Alpha doesn’t approve.
“I don’t see any witches. Are you sure that you are standing in the right spot?” Peter asked, concerned for the mage’s safety.
That’s a wrap on the reblogs for the 2021 exchange! If I missed yours somehow just let me know! The majority of the gifts can also be found on AO3 in the collection.
Peter loves Stiles. He loves his pale skin dotted with a dark constellation. Peter loves the magic inside Stiles, the strange but familiar creature that burns behind his glittering ruby eyes and pointed fangs. Peter loves Stiles’s bravery, his sharp tongue, and clever mind. But most of all, Peter loves the invisible tether that ties Stiles’s soul to his own. Stiles is his soul mate and no matter what, he will never be alone again and he loves Stiles for that too.
Note:
Ambersagen, I was very happy to receive this assignment because you are so talented.
You asked for fanart that featured: AUs, happy endings, soulmates, and creature!Stiles with glittery ruby eyes.
I do hope I made you something that will make your holidays just a little brighter, because you deserve it. Please enjoy this gift and have a Merry Christmasand Happy New Year!
Stiles looked up at his mentor from where he was flipping through the grimoire she’d set him to read.. They were on opposite sides of her workshop. She stood behind the table where she worked on preparing spell and potion ingredients and he sat on the floor in front of a wall of bookshelves that were stuffed so full that they were near to overflowing. “What?”
Amanda - “None of that Mrs. Raine nonsense,” she’d insisted when they’d first met, “I’m old enough as it is, no need to make me feel older” - pointed at him. “You’ve been rubbing over your heart whenever you’ve had a free hand for the last week. What’s going on?”
He blinked and looked down. His hand had stopped moving, but it was still pressed to his chest over his heart. “Huh. I mean, I don’t know that I’d say anything is wrong? It just sorta aches a little.”
Stiles thought that would be the end of it, but Amanda set down the pestle she was using to grind herbs and crossed the room to sit down in front of him. Curious, Stiles set aside the grimoire to give her his full attention.
“Is it an ache?” she asked. “Or is it more of a pull? Like there’s a string tied around something inside you and it’s being tugged on from the other end?”
He frowned. “That is…eerily specific…and accurate. How did you guess?”
“Has it ever happened before?”
Stiles thought back to a few months after his mother died, to the week leading up to and the month after the Hale fire, and the ache that nothing had been able to soothe or make go away. “Yeah.”
“Has it been constant since then?”
“No, it faded as I left Beacon Hills to come here. This is the first time I’ve felt it since.”
That seemed to relax Amanda a little bit. “So it’s tied to something in Beacon Hills,” she murmured. “An object, or a being? Odd that it would be weakened by distance and yet crop up against so many years later. Unless…”
“What?”
She focused back on Stiles. “Did you ever try to follow it to its source?”
He had to give that one some thought, and Amanda was patient while he searched his memory. “Not intentionally…" Styles settled on. “There was one night Dad woke me up and I had the front door open, he said I’d been sleepwalking. But I’ve never sleepwalked before then, and I haven’t done it since. And there were two other times, one before that and one after. I found myself walking when I hadn’t intended to be.“
“Do you know where you were headed?”
“Only the two bracketing times, but it wasn’t clear the first time. I think I was headed for the Preserve, but I don’t know where in the Preserve, or why I wanted to go there. And the second time was different, I was headed for the hospital. But I don’t know where I was going the time I was sleepwalking, though I know I was dreaming before Dad woke me. And right after, I thought I smelled smoke.” He paused. “I never made the connection before, but that was the night of the Hale fire. Dad got the call from the station a few minutes after waking me.”
“Two different destinations, very odd,” Amanda murmured. “And the Hale fire? There’s something important there, but we’ll come back to it.” Catching the stubborn look that was starting to form on his face, Amanda sighed. “Alright, I suppose I’ve gotten enough to mostly confirm my suspicions. I’ve heard stories of people experiencing something similar, but they never specified the cause beyond that there was a bond in place and it activated in times of need. There are rumors that there is a Nemeton somewhere in the vicinity of Beacon Hills, but somehow I don’t think that’s the source of the pull. I definitely would have known if you had been bonded to one, I would’ve been able to sense it from the start. And a Nemeton would have no reason to pull you to the hospital, so it’s something else.”
“So…something needed me, and now it needs me again?”
“More likely, it never stopped needing you, the distance was just too great for you to feel it. More likely the source has gained some sort of power boost that allowed the…signal, if you will, to travel farther.”
Stiles sighed. “I have to go back to Beacon Hills to figure this out, don’t I?”
“That is what it sounds like, yes.”
—
Amanda had not been able to leave right away, but she had insisted that Stiles go on ahead and promised to follow as soon as she could. So Stiles had booked the earliest flight he could that still left him enough time to pack, and in no time he was back in Beacon Hills.
He had called ahead to inform his father, and Noah Stilinski had refused to even entertain the thought of his son staying in a hotel when Stiles’ old room was still perfectly serviceable. Noah had also insisted on picking Stiles up from the airport, and when he refused to budge on either, Stiles was forced to give in and let him.
It was more than a little surprising. Not long after Stiles had left, Noah had become the sheriff of Beacon Hills and his schedule had become a good deal busier. From what Stiles had known of his work ethic after Claudia Stilinski had died, Noah taking time off for anything personal was unusual.
When Stiles had expressed this surprise to Amanda, she had laughed a little. “He hasn’t gotten to really see you for nine years, of course he wants every opportunity he can get to spend time with you.”
Stiles hadn’t had the heart to remind her that he had wanted to see his father more often, going as far as to make a schedule for visits that included holidays, both of their birthdays (and Claudia’s), and multiple opportunities in the gaps. But Noah had been the one to turn him down, telling Stiles to focus on his apprenticeship.
It was the most Stiles had ever heard the man refer to the reason Stiles had left Beacon Hills.
Something in his expression must’ve hinted at these thoughts though, because Amanda had patted his cheek and said, “Nine years is also a lot of time to grieve and be able to move on.”
To Stiles’ relief, the reunion had been more than amiable. Despite not having seen Stiles since he was ten, Noah had recognized him on sight and enveloped him in a hug. It might’ve been a quick hug, but it had been warm and unhesitant. And on the drive home, Noah had asked him about the apprenticeship and the things he was learning, even prodding Stiles to elaborate and asking a number of detailed and insightful questions.
There had only been one point where tension had risen. Stiles had asked what sort of things had been going on in the town lately. Noah had been a little hesitant, but he explained the recent string of mountain lion attacks and the body of a young woman that had been cut in half discovered in the woods.
“Has she been identified yet?” Stiles asked curiously.
“Yes, that was earlier in the week. We were pretty sure she was Laura Hale, and then her younger brother Derek arrived in town and confirmed it.”
Laura and Derek Hale. Two of the three survivors of the fire that had claimed the lives of almost all the rest of the family, and only because they hadn’t been home at the time. The third survivor, their uncle Peter Hale, had been inside the house and been burned so badly that he’d been comatose ever since. Stiles was pretty sure the only reason he’d survived at all was because he was a werewolf, the same as the rest of the family. Stiles could feel the edge of something there. That was what Amanda had meant when he’d said his sleepwalking episode had occurred the night of the fire. There was definitely something important there. But what was it?
“Any idea who was behind it?” he asked.
Noah gave him a look that reminded Stiles of the month before he’d gone to stay with Amanda, his father’s irritation whenever Stiles had been digging through his case files. He almost retracted the question, but Noah only sighed and shook his head, the look fading as he turned his attention back to the road. “No, no leads. There was some concern that it had been Derek, but we managed to confirm his alibi, he was still in New York at the time we estimate her death to have occurred and there’s nothing in any travel records that indicates he might’ve doubled back.”
That was where things had teetered on turning sour. Stiles had mused aloud about whether or not any of it might be related to what had brought him back to Beacon Hills. Noah had asked what that was, and Stiles had explained the resurgence of the pull he’d experienced before leaving Beacon Hills.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Noah sounded so hurt and Stiles couldn’t squash the sudden surge of frustration.
“I tried. But you were too focused on the fact that Mom’s magic hadn’t helped her, that it had been what killed her. You didn’t want me to have it too, so you ignored it until it was shoved in your face so hard that ignoring it was impossible, at least so long as I was there for you to see it.”
As soon as the words left his mouth, Stiles knew he had gone too far. Noah’s jaw clenched, and he looked firmly at the road, not so much as glancing at Stiles.
They didn’t exchange any words until Stiles saw the sign that marked the town limits approaching. “Could you pull over, please?” he requested, breaking the silence. “There’s something I have to do before we get into town.”
For a moment, he thought his father was going to ask, but Noah didn’t. He did pull over as Stiles had asked though.
Stiles got out of the car and approached the sign. He reached out with his magic, feeling for the invisible boundary lines that ringed the town. When he found them, he sent a nudge of power along them to either side, forceful enough to go all the way around. It only took a few minutes for both pulses to come back from the opposite direction, having gone full circle, and when it did, Stiles couldn’t help frowning. If there was indeed a Nemeton in the area like Amanda thought, then it should have a guardian, and that guardian should definitely have some wards up. And if there wasn’t, there should still be at the remains of wards at the very least that the Hale pack emissary should’ve placed. But there was nothing to indicate there had been a magical alarm system around the town within the last few decades, perhaps even longer than that.
He pulled his phone out of his pocket and called Amanda.
A short conversation later and Stiles walked back to the car. He opened the passenger side door, but didn’t get in.
“Whoever the last emissary to the Hale pack was, they didn’t even put up intent wards around the town. I’m going to do that now, and then we can get going.”
Noah frowned. “Don’t you have to walk the borders to put up wards?”
“Most people do. And if I were doing anything beyond intent wards, I would too, otherwise they’d be so weak as to be basically useless. But I just want to be alerted if something intending harm or the like crosses the boundaries, and as powerful as I am, I can do that so long as I am standing on the boundary line. Be right back.”
His bag was in the trunk, and Stiles rifled through it quickly, gathering the materials he needed for this particular spell. Then he returned to the sign and the boundary line it marked.
Stiles was strong and his reserves were deep, but it had been a while since he had performed a working this large. He stumbled slightly when he stepped off the line and out of the loop of power circling the town. Sleep was going to be wonderful when they got back to the house.
Noah didn’t say anything when he got back in the car. The rest of the trip to the house passed in a silence that was a little less strained than before they had stopped, but only barely.
Inside the house though, Noah finally broke the silence. When Stiles moved toward the stairs, his father held out a hand. “Hold on a second.” He dropped his key ring into the bowl kept for that very purpose and pulled another key out of it that he held out to Stiles. “If you need to go anywhere. The jeep is in the garage.”
Stiles stared, struggling to believe that what was happening was more than just a hallucination conjured up by the exhaustion of jet lag and extensive magic use.
“I - We wanted to give her to you when you got your license. And I wanted to hold true to that…after. But I…I was a fool. And I’m sorry. I’m sorry it’s late, but she’s yours, if you want her. She’s old, and likely in need of some care, but she’ll still run. I checked before I left to come get you, and she has a fresh tank of gas as well.”
When his father stopped talking and didn’t continue, Stiles slowly reached out and took the key. It was cold and solid in his hand.
“Thanks,” he managed. And then he darted up the stairs.
—
“Note to self,” Stiles groaned. “Stop antagonizing hunters by pointing out their bigotry when you don’t know how much backup they have.”
Everything hurt, or at least it felt that way. Stiles doubted the hunters had actually managed to land a blow on every single inch of his skin. They’d definitely gotten a lot of him though.
The fight had started out pretty even. When Stiles had gone out to see what had tripped his wards, he’d come across a trio of hunters. He could’ve passed for an insomniac jogger or a star enthusiast, a normal human with a perfectly ordinary and reasonable excuse for being out in the woods so late. Stiles didn’t doubt that’s what they’d mistake him for, as they’d started lowering their guns before he’d opened his mouth.
Stiles hadn’t gone away to learn magic for nothing. He was more than powerful and skilled enough to take on three hunters with ease, even when he was tired from casting the intent wards around the town earlier. It was when their backup had melted out of the trees, bringing the total of hunters up to ten, that the odds had tipped against him.
He’d fled as soon as he’d figured that out, but Stiles had been gone from Beacon Hills for some time and he hadn’t had a very thorough knowledge of the Preserve to start with. So instead of running towards civilization and the safety they would have provided, Stiles headed deeper into the woods. Unable to use his magic to navigate, he’d gotten horribly lost, and the hunters had managed to trap him.
The beating they delivered was quick and thorough. Stiles was more than a little surprised that they left him alive. The bigotry that ran rampant in hunters like these didn’t usually distinguish between the shifter nonhuman and magic user nonhuman. Hell, even just being involved with the supernatural in a non-hunting capacity was enough for condemnation. Stiles had heard stories of humans who had joined or had been born into packs and been killed for it.
He’d spent too much time laying on the forest floor. The hunters’ negative attitude was definitely enough for them to have been what crossed his wards, but Stiles wasn’t about to risk their crossing having masked something else. He needed to get back to town, tell his dad about the hunters.
Bracing himself for the pain, Stiles started pushing himself into an upright position. Gritting his teeth ground them together as his body protested the change in position. He paused on his elbows to catch his breath, forcing himself to breathe through the pain. Then he rolled enough to be pushing up from his side rather than his back. This has a nasty effect of dragging his ankle across the ground and sending a flare of pain up his leg.
Stiles remembered when the hunter had brought his foot down hard on his ankle. That had felt deliberate, more calculated than the rest of the attack. For some reason, they hadn’t wanted him to go very far, if he made it anywhere at all.
Now Stiles definitely wanted to get out of here as soon as he could. Whatever the hunters wanted him stuck for it couldn’t be anything good.
The back of his neck prickled, the hairs there standing up in alarm. Stiles froze.
There wasn’t anything that he could see in the trees in front of him. So the threat, whatever it was, was behind him.
Stiles gathered the dregs of his magic that remained. Then, slowly, he turned to face the other direction.
His breath caught in his throat when he met the stare of a pair of glowing red eyes.
“Fuck,” Stiles breathed as the puzzle pieces clicked into place.
He’d seen werewolves in their full shift before. A little larger than normal wolves with similar coloring and eyes that glowed red, gold, or blue depending on their role.
This werewolf… Its eyes were alpha red, but the form, the shape, was all off. Like it was bear and wolf. And it was larger than any fully shifted werewolf that Stiles had ever seen.
This was why the hunters had left him alive.
“I’m bait for you,” he breathed.
The hunters probably hadn’t gone far, just enough to be past the range of the werewolf’s senses, and close enough to hear if Stiles yelled or the wolf howled.
Even if this wolf was a rogue in need of dealing with, Stiles vowed silently to himself that he wouldn’t draw the hunters back to it. Not hunters like these, whose ideas would only be reinforced by taking out an actual rogue.
But thankfully, the wolf wasn’t coming after him. It stayed where it was, watching.
Absently, Stiles wondered if it was using him as bait too, waiting for the hunters to come back to check their bait. If it was, that was a rather large indicator that it was not what they likely thought it was.
Stiles hadn’t encountered any rogue wolves, alpha or otherwise, personally. He had heard stories from people who had though. Rogues were smart, but they were driven so much by their instincts that overly complicated plans beyond the capabilities of an ordinary wolf were beyond them as well. The hunters probably suspected this one of being behind all the attacks that had gone on in town recently, but a rogue couldn’t have pulled all that off. There was something calculated about the kills, and arranging for a mountain lion to be caught and blamed for them? That was too clever for a rogue.
The wolf growled, and Stiles realized he was still looking it in the eye. He didn’t look down or away, but slowly, he lifted his chin and tilted his head to bare his throat. “I’d raise my hands too, but I think I’d fall over if I did that.”
Those red eyes blinked, and then there was a quiet huff. Almost like the wolf was laughing at him.
Stiles rolled his eyes.
When he focused on the wolf again, he nearly jumped out of his skin. Before, it had been several yards away. Now there were barely a few feet between them.
Stiles swallowed the instinctive, startled shout, but there was nothing he could do about his heartbeat or the pheromones he was putting off. He held very still, not even daring to breathe as the wolf took the last few steps between them. Its muzzle was inches from his face.
When all the wolf did was stand there, Stiles lost control of his mouth. “You’re just a dick, aren’t you? Just standing there with your teeth in my face because you know it scares me and you’re getting a kick out of it.”
He barely repressed his flinch when the wolf huffed again. He did yelp when it pushed its nose into the curve where neck and shoulder connected. Only the sharp bite of pain from his injuries, reflexively stiffening his body, kept him from flailing backwards more than a couple of inches.
“That’s just cold, man,” he complained, careful to keep his voice low. “Literally. Your nose is cold. And wet. I thought weres were more respectful of that sort of thing than the average domesticated canine. Apparently not. Oh wait, I forgot, you’re a dick.”
Then there was a prickle, teeth against his skin. Stiles snapped his mouth shut so fast, his teeth clicked together.
The wolf snorted, and put the teeth away. Definitely not a rogue despite the odd form. A rogue might tease and terrify, enjoying the fear, but a rogue would’ve taken that advantage in a heartbeat, not backed off when it felt it had made its point.
But if it wasn’t a rogue, then what the hell was going on here?
The odd form was indicative of problems, that was for sure. Stiles took advantage of the wolf’s proximity to study it. Beyond the odd shape, it moved strangely. Less like a wolf and more like something either bipedal, or that could switch between bipedal and quadruped. But it wasn’t bipedal itself, not really, there was still too much wolf in it for that. And the fur was patchy, scars visible in places down the left side of its body. Burn scars, Stiles realized.
And the puzzle pieces clicked into place.
An alpha that came out of nowhere. Laura Hale, an alpha who was killed. A burn victim who was also a werewolf. Who lived in the Preserve with his family until a fire killed them and put him in the hospital.
“It’s you,” Stiles breathed. And then, “You’re Peter Hale, aren’t you?”
The wolf snarled, and all the breath was knocked out of Stiles when Peter head butted him in the chest and knocked him on his back.
“Ow,” he coughed.
Peter moved to stand over him, and even as he wheezed, trying to get his breath back, Stiles was careful to keep his chin lifted, his throat bared.
“I know you have no reason to believe me,” Stiles managed to say. “But I swear, I’m not here to hurt you, and I’m not gonna try anything. I’m here to help.” Peter snarled again, but Stiles kept talking. “I’m here to help. You’ve been calling me for nine years, though I’m not sure you knew it. I’m sorry it took me so long, I didn’t understand, but I’m here now.”
Slowly, carefully, telegraphing his movements, Stiles raised his hand. He stayed away from Peter’s throat, going for his shoulder instead, and gently combed his fingers through the fur there.
The werewolf growled, but it sounded like less of a threat and more of a warning to Stiles. He ran his fingers through the fur one last time, and then he pulled his hand away, putting it back on the ground at his side. Peter started to step back and away.
Then he paused, ears pricked. Stiles closed his mouth, breathing through his nose so as to make less noise and let the wolf listen.
From out in the darkness came the crack of dry, dead wood snapping.
And then the soft whistle of something flying through the air at high speed.
Almost before the sound had registered in his brain, Stiles threw up a shield around himself and Peter. The projectile hit the shield immediately after, and the impact lit up the clearing as it made the shield visible.
The hunters stepped into view, weapons drawn and aimed at the now surrounded pair.
“You know, you are really just proving my point here,” Stiles said. “Neither of us were doing anything that would hurt anybody, but you’ve still got weapons pointed at us.”
One of the hunters scuffed. “You really think a were that looks like that is innocent, boy? What about all the killings that’ve been going on around here, hmm?”
“You mean the mountain lion attacks? Cause they caught the lion, ya know.”
Stiles knew they didn’t buy it though. The only reason the hunters hadn’t tried to fill him and Peter with holes yet was they were waiting for his shield to fail. He’d already used up a lot of energy fighting them earlier, and they knew it.
He looked at Peter. “You know, I think they care more about you than they do about me. You could probably manage to escape if you run, and I could keep the shield around you for a minute or two to give you an advantage.”
The werewolf continued watching the hunters, lips lifted away from his teeth in a snarl. But he flicked an ear as if in acknowledgement.
“Right then, time for a distraction.”
Stiles turned his attention inward to the well of magic he held. He looked at the sphere that was the shield and the tether of magic it was pulling away from him in a careful trickle.
Creativity, faith, and willpower, Stiles thought. So long as he believed it was possible, it would happen.
He pushed magic at the shield, briefly increasing the flow, and then just as sharply pulled it back, simultaneously pulling on the shield at the same time. Around him, the shield’s glow briefly flared bright enough to blind, and then the shield started to shrink.
Focused on holding the shield, Stiles only distantly heard the hunters’ startled shouts. But he definitely felt it when Peter’s teeth latched in the front of his hoodie and he was dragged up and forwards until he was draped over the werewolf’s back. When he felt fur beneath his hands, Stiles couldn’t spare enough focus to not reflexively latch on. Then Peter began to move, and Stiles couldn’t spare any thought to his surroundings, only concentrating on holding the shield and moving it with them.
He didn’t know much of the run through the woods. He willed the shield invisible to keep the hunters from following them by its glow right away. Each bullet and crossbow bolt that hit it threatened to make it flare and crack into pieces. Only Stiles’ will held it together.
Thankfully, it was only after the impacts had trailed off and then ceased altogether that Stiles felt his control slip.
“Losing it,” he muttered, trying to warn Peter. “I’m losing it.”
He’d barely gotten the words out when the shield collapsed, his energy reserves too drained to maintain it any longer. And then the darkness swelled.
“Oh,” he said, tone almost conversational. “Guess I used too much today. Been a while since I’ve done that.”
—
When Stiles woke up again, he was in his old bed in his childhood room. He might’ve thought the previous night was an extremely vivid dream, if not for the way his body hurt, and the scarred man sitting in his desk chair. “Good morning, Stiles,” the man said.
Stiles smiled. “Hey, Peter.”
There was a lot to be done, like calling Amanda to tell her about the previous night’s events and telling his father about the hunters. Figuring out the odd bond he had with Peter would be on the list too, though Stiles was sure that would take a bit longer. And he and Peter would have to have a conversation about the man’s health and goals and how they overlapped. Particularly how they overlapped if the man’s full shift was any indicator. And the murder.
But there would be time for all of that, and the unique stresses and problems each would undoubtedly bring, later. For the moment, Stiles enjoyed the unexpected comfort of being in his old room, the pain drain Peter started when he moved to sit on the bed and took Stiles’ hand, and the way the tug in his chest had gone from an ache to a warm, steady thrum.
Merry Christmas @arsenicalikat. Your Steter secret Santa here! I hope you like your gift.
Title: Of Witches & Wolves
Fandom: Teen Wolf.
Pairing(s): Peter Hale/Stiles Stilinski.
Rating: Mature.
Warning: Contains domestic violence in chapter 2.
Chapter: 2/?
Summary: Adjusting to life after the deaths of the crazed Alpha and Kate Argent, Scott and Stiles have barely gotten back to having normal lives when the monsters start to come out again, and not all of them are supernatural this time. Stiles learns a shocking secret about his mother and her side of the family.
Nightmares were no fun things and Stiles knew that personally. After the nogitsune, the spark believed that he would only have normal, human nightmares for the rest of his life. That wasn’t the case. Now he had to go to the one werewolf he didn’t know if he trusted: Peter.
Title: From the First Moment Ratings: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Fandom(s): Teen Wolf Category: M/M Relationships: Peter Hale/Stiles Stilinski Characters: Stiles Stilinski, Peter Hale Tags: Steter Secret Santa 2021, One-Shot, Alternate Universe, Hurt/Comfort, Panic Attacks, First Time, Romance Summary: After his father’s death right in front of him on the day of his graduation,…
Annnnnnd a VERY MERRY Steter Secret Santa to everyone, but most especially @theydraggedmein whose gift this fic is. I heard you like tropes so here: have as many as I could cram into 3k
Cold as you
They’ve been walking in this pelting, slush-rain long enough that Stiles has stopped shivering. It’s not a good sign, neither is the fact that the toes in his waterlogged sneakers that have been aching for the past hour have gone numb and he basically can’t feel his face anymore.
Still, they keep walking. Not on the highway, of course, that would only attract attention. But beside the highway, in the slight coverage the treeline provides, they walk for miles together where no one can see the man in a soaked hoodie, a backpack, and a pair of jeans so heavy with wet they are sagging with it.
The man that may very well catch his death in this weather.
Oh, and the red-eyed demon wolf at his side, of course.
“Swear to God, Peter, if you…” Stiles says into the dark of the woods as he waits for a car’s headlights to pass up ahead. He’s slurring and that really, really isn’t a good sign, nor is the fact that he’s already forgotten what it was he was going to complain about pretty much the instant he began to speak. “Shit. Shit, it’s cold.”
Summary: Peter only has a few months left to prove his family’s hotel and casino business can still end up on top. He plans to save it by putting on his sister’s magnum opus, an ambitious holiday revue. He just needs a star.
Stiles is out of work and homeless, busking for his meals. When he’s discovered by Peter Hale, he has a choice to make: should he continue hiding his dynamic, or come out as a rare male omega and take his place on top of the city where dreams are made (and broken)?
Peter meets Stiles at a food eating competition and becomes determined to best the human at his own game.
No Archive Warnings, College Student Stiles Stilinski, Sort of AU, sort of canon, Enemies to Lovers, Food Competition, Meet-Cute, Not really cute though, Getting Together, Alpha Peter Hale, Human Stiles Stilinski, Matchmaker Cora Hale, slight Scott McCall bashing, Steter Secret Santa 2021
This is my Steter fic for @stetersecretsanta2021 written for wonderful @msridcully I’m very happy I could write it for you and I hope you will like it ♥ Magical!Stiles is a fantastic concept!
“Stiles.”
Stiles gulps. He knows he’s in big trouble. That’s the tone that says he’s dug his own grave, and it’s so deep he’s in China. Would he actually be in China if he dug to the other side of the planet? Putting aside how difficult it would be because of high temperatures and pressure—
“Stiles,” Peter says in that special “I’m going to strangle you for real this time, Stilinski” voice. “What have you done?”
And isn’t that a good fucking question? —————- Or: Stiles makes a novice mistake and there are consequences.
Additional Tags: Established Relationship, Light BDSM, Shibari, Rope Bondage, Rimming, Anal Sex, Oral Sex, Coming Untouched, Lingerie, Christmas Presents, Christmas Fluff, Peter is soft but only for Stiles, Vaguely Canon Compliant-ish, Steter Secret Santa 2021
