After the disaster of a courting gift, Peter kept his distance and so did Stiles. The twins still got to play with Nia of course, just like Stiles promised and vice versa but there was something missing now and after another three months of silence other than what was necessary between their daddies, the three children put their heads together to come up with a plan. Of course, they came up with more than one plan since they’ve heard the saying that plan a never works.
@steter-stackson-bingo
Card Number: 107
Square: Plan A Never Works
After the disaster of a courting gift, Peter kept his distance and so did Stiles. The twins still got to play with Nia of course, just like Stiles promised and vice versa but there was something missing now and after another three months of silence other than what was necessary between their daddies, the three children put their heads together to come up with a plan. Of course, they came up with more than one plan since they’ve heard the saying that plan a never works.
Turns out that the twins’s Auntie Liddy was more than willing to help with their plan as was Nia’s cousin Cora. This made the children cheer because they saw how miserable their daddies were now and if their plan worked, that would change and then upon the success of their plan they’d all three of them have two daddies. So, they got to work on what Auntie Liddy and Cora said was called the Stubborn Boys in Love Plan. Nia scrunched up her nose and suggested an alternative name.
“We should call it Parent Trap.”
Lydia and Cora exchanged a look and smiled. The twins giggled remembering those two movies from one of their sleepovers.
“At least there’s no new woman or anything,” Cas said.
“Yeah!” Reyn chimed in. “Plus, I like Mr. Hale. I don’t want a new mommy. I want a daddy.”
“And I like Mr. Tinski. So, me too,” Nia said softly.
“Me three!!” Cas said and they all bumped fists. “We should also rewatch the movies for research purposes. Daddy always says that research is very important.”
All three of the children agreed much to the amusement and fondness of Cora and Lydia who were more than willing to get the two stubborn men to sort things out.
It was time to put their heads together. This plan was gonna work, all of them knowing that without a doubt.
✶ 🐺 🐾 ❤︎ 🐾 🐯 ✶
Nia left her pillow at Lydia’s House and asked her daddy to get it. Peter wanted to send Cora because he knew Stiles had planned to see Lydia, though don’t ask him how he knew that. Cora refused and Peter went. Stiles shoved the pillow at him and slammed the door. Peter sighed, but as he turned to head back to his car, he heard Lydia’s voice. “You’re being stubborn and acting like a child, Stiles.”
“Watch it, Lyds. I love you and you’re my best friend but if you think that you can order me to be nice to the man who tried to poison me with the same poison that killed—”
“I’m sorry.”
Peter heard them shuffle closer and suspected Lydia was hugging Stiles. Peter wished he could comfort the man and his wolf was whining at him to do just that, but Peter kept walking, got in his car and left all the while wondering who the poison had killed and terrified it was the twins’s mom. Wouldn’t that just be Peter's luck?
When he was younger, Stiles always wanted a large family. He never wanted the kind of silence that nearly suffocated him in his home after his mother died. Peter has gladly made his wish come true many times over, and although Stiles never used to picture being pregnant, it’s something so intimate to him that he doesn’t mind a bit. There's something so fragile about the little life growing inside him. He especially loved when Peter would always nuzzle at his belly and shift to curl around his front with a happy rumble.
@steter-stackson-bingo
Card Number: 107
Square: Glad To Be Alive Sex
A car rumbles as it comes up the winding dirt road towards the house. Stiles looks up from the counter where he’s making lunch and smiles. Stuart pops his head in and snags a piece of bacon only to squawk when Stiles shocks him for it.
“HEY!” Stuart says.
Stiles smirks. “Don’t touch the bacon.”
Allison giggles as she walks by. “Behave you two. Sometimes you’re worse than the kids.”
The twins gape at her and she winks before wandering out to the front porch, her hand cupping the swell of her pregnant belly. Fio and Lili trot along behind her, sending affection through their bonds to their mages as they go.
Stuart watches her go with a dopey pleased smile on his face. Stiles fights back a laugh when his brother’s chest puffs out. “Yes, Stu. You did good,” he teases.
Before Stuart can give a reply, they hear a thundering of little feet from the direction of the living room and the twins can only shake their heads with smiles on their faces as a herd of little niblings runs towards the door.
Peter is fully shifted, doing his best to direct all of them but stops long enough to nuzzle Stiles’s stomach. He rumbles in his chest and flicks crimson eyes up to meet amethyst eyes before darting after the kids.
Stiles blushes when Stuart sends him a smirk. “Oh, shut up,” he says without any heat behind it.
“I didn't say a word.”
“No but you were thinking about it.”
“Daddy! Unca Stu! Come on!! Ganpas is he’e!”
The twins grin at the little nibling whose eyes glow gold. She giggles when her daddy and uncle’s eyes glow back. Then she squeals when Uncle Stu scoops her up and tosses her over his shoulder. “Unc Stu, no no!” she squeals with a burst of giggles.
“Uncle Stu yes!” Stiles teases and Stuart sends him a grin. “Careful, Selene,” Stiles says when she wiggles a little too much.
Selene’s gorgeous blue eyes peek out at him from behind blond curls, and she gives him a smile. “O’ay, Daddy!”
The car pulls to a stop in the driveway and the two men within it quickly get out. It’s like a whistle goes off and all six children launch themselves at the men with shouts of glee and excitement.
Allison grins at her husband as he settles Selene on his hip and slips his arm around her waist. She turns so her stomach rests against his hip and smiles when he tightens the embrace.
“Hey, Dad,” Stiles calls out from his place on the porch as Noah experiences the usual jungle gym situation the kids put him in. “Looks like no bacon for you,” the spark teases.
Noah huffs and shrugs, never looking away from his grandkids. “Who needs bacon when there are little niblings all over?”
Stiles smiles fondly at their father and exchanges a look with Stuart who is smiling at the sight.
Allison snorts a laugh when she sees her own dad with a little one wrapped around his head. “Keegan,” she scolds lightly. “Don’t cover grandpa’s eyes.”
Keegan giggles. “Pee’Boo!”
Chris chuckles and with a steady grip on the child swings him down and peppers his face with kisses.
Of course, the rest of the kids want a turn at that, and the two expectant parents make themselves comfortable on the porch swing while the other two parents and the two grandparents tire the little ones out, playing all their favorite games.
Stiles feels Allison take his hand and smiles giving her hand a gentle squeeze. Neither of them says anything, but it’s a comfortable silence. Stiles thinks back on the past six years fondly.
✶ ❤︎ ✶
Allison and he were pregnant at the same time, which was quite an adjustment for Stiles, but he knew it was right and perfect, especially because of how his wolf acted. It made the spark happy to see his mate so excited and made his heart race with the knowledge that he was able to give the alpha pups. Peter ravished him over and over again and although Stuart never said anything, Stiles is pretty sure his twin was just as riled up by Allison’s pregnancy.
Eight months later the first two pups were born. Stiles and Peter had a little boy they named, Oliver—Ollie for short—and Allison had a little girl they named, Isabella—Izzy for short—which Isaac crowed was totally for him. Allison joked that she might go by Bella, just to see Isaac pout. Over the course of a year Isaac had grown really close with Allison and Stuart. He mother henned the hell out of little Izzy, his wolf so happy to look after the little pup.
With a baby on each of their chests in a sling, Allison and Stiles started on plans for a home to build near Stiles and Peter’s own. Everything was done by hand—well and a little by spark—from the ground up. By the time the babies were a year old, the home was built, and the couple moved in.
A month later Stuart and Allison got married with Stiles, Peter, Spencer, Chris, Noah, Isaac, Jackson, Gen and Klarysa as witnesses. Stiles held a baby in each arm while the ceremony took place. Stuart had proposed a month prior the first night in their new home. Neither wanted to wait to get married and Stiles didn’t blame them one bit. They were it for each other just like he and Peter.
Ten months later, Allison gave birth to twins, two boys they named Kayden and Kyler. Stiles gave birth a month after Allison to twins, two girls they named, Nova and Nora. Thus, their small pack grew to a total of twelve.
Spencer and Gen hadn’t planned on children but when two twin girls and their little brother wandered into the territory, running from their abusive alpha, the couple took them in with no questions asked. The little boy was named Theodore—Teddy for short cause he preferred it—and the girls were named Sonya and Sasha. At four and fourteen years of age respectively, they became part of the Hale Pack. It was learned not long after that Teddy was a werecat and Spencer was thrilled. Sonya and Sasha were human and revealed they probably could’ve gotten away from the pack sooner, but they refused to leave their baby brother behind. Thus, the pack grew again for a total of fifteen.
By the time Ollie and Izzy were two and the two sets of twins were one, Noah, Chris, Genevieve, Isaac and Jackson became part of their pack officially. Surprisingly Noah and Chris took the news of the supernatural really well. Gen was a bit shocked but when Spencer got nervous, she merely kissed him, and the tension immediately left him. She had already known about Spencer but not the rest of them.
✶ ❤︎ ✶
Stiles and Stuart became partners, the partnership approved by Rossi and Morgan who both agreed that they worked best side by side. The first time they had to use lethal force neither of them spoke a word for two days, simply curled up together, with Lili and Fio purring softly to comfort them. It soon became a giant puppy pile and the smiles on their kids's faces brought them out of the dark place they had fallen into.
That night the couples each made love—Peter so intense that Stiles nearly blacked out and Allison riding Stuart so slowly but sensually that Stuart did black out—and within the next two weeks it was confirmed that once again Allison and Stiles were pregnant.
Nine months later came the biggest expansion to their pack when Stiles had triplets and Allison had another set of twins. Peter named their triplets Raven, Rylee and River—three little girls—all with their daddy’s brown hair and two of the three with his amber eyes. Allison and Stuart named their twins Harper and Hadley—two girls—both with their mother’s dark brown hair but sporting their daddy’s amber eyes. Thus, their pack grew once more, now a total of twenty-five.
Though the two couples kept their separate homes another home was soon built further in. In fact, the clearing made itself known to them, offering its earth as a foundation. Peter was the only one who was unaware of what was being done. Stiles had listened to Peter talk about his pack over the years and what it was like living in a pack house. With Stuart, Stiles and Allison working together, with help from Spencer and Gen while their dads watched the niblings, the home was built in just under two years. Stiles was shocked they managed to keep it from Peter that long but the look on his face when the alpha saw the pack house was worth it.
Needless to say, their first night in the pack house was insane. Stiles thinks he might’ve scarred his brother for life when the younger twin was coming to the kitchen for a glass of water. Stuart might have seen his pale ass when Peter took him on the kitchen counter, but Stiles couldn’t feel too bad when his brain was mush.
Stuart wouldn’t look him in the eye at first the next morning but then sent him a shit eating smirk as he said he now knew they truly weren’t identical. Stiles has a birthmark on his right ass cheek and Stuart does not. It made Stiles blush crimson red, and Peter smirked proudly because the birthmark was surrounded by bruises the wolf himself had sucked into his mate’s skin.
✶ ❤︎ ✶
Seven months later, Allison gave birth to another little boy that they named, Keegan. He surprised them all by having dark blonde hair, but his eyes were mocha brown just like his mother’s. He was born two months early and it scared them, but thankfully, he was healthy and home by the time his original due date came around. Stuart hardly ever put little Keegan down for nearly two months.
Stiles was shocked when almost four years to the day since Oliver was born, he had another child. He didn’t even realize he was pregnant for over half of it. He had no idea if Peter knew. This time they had a little girl and Stiles asked Peter if they could name her Talia. The alpha wolf sobbed and agreed immediately. Little Tally is an exact replica of her papa except with dark black hair like the woman she’s named after. With Keegan and Talia’s birth their pack expanded once again. They now had a pack with a total of twenty seven members.
After that, no more kids were born for over a year and a half. It wasn’t because they didn’t want more, but because a case went wrong, and Stuart ended up kidnapped. The men who took him were not just planning to kill him but to take his spark as well. Stiles showed no mercy as he slaughtered each and every one of them. Peter and Allison didn’t let either of the twins out of their sight for the next two weeks. Stuart was skittish and had several panic attacks, but after a couple weeks of going out into the forest with his twin, he came back healed—not completely of course—and was able to continue thriving.
Stiles’s actions had been rash and impulsive, and he expected to be fired for it. Instead, he was called into Rossi’s office and offered a promotion. Rossi wanted to retire and thought Stiles was the perfect choice to lead the team. Stiles agreed on the condition that his brother would be considered for his second. The agreement was made and six months later, Morgan stepped down for Stuart to take his place. There was nothing that could ruin that day for the twins. Add in a celebration, some alcohol and friskiness and boom. Nine months later the most recent little niblings were born.
✶ ❤︎ ✶
Allison had a little girl they named Christine—Chrissy for short—and she was their first spark. Her eyes glowed emerald green as she let out a shriek when she took her first breath in the world. Stuart was a very proud daddy, and he may or may not have done a celebratory dance right then and there. Stiles totally joined in of course and Peter captured it all on his phone. Thus, their pack grew to a total of twenty eight.
They rounded out their pack to a total of thirty, when at four in the morning, on April 8th, Stiles gave birth to a little girl they named Selene. It wasn’t a name they planned on, but it fit the circumstances in which she was born.
They had been on their way home when Stiles cried out causing Stuart to swerve slightly. In a matter of minutes too far from home or a hospital, Stiles was laid out on a blanket on the grass with his legs spread and his nails digging into his mate’s arm. It was hard to see anything but then suddenly the moonlight shone down upon them illuminating the four of them, as their little girl took her first breath. Stiles nearly passed out from exhaustion with her cradled to his chest but before he did, he thanked the Goddess Selene.
It wasn’t until he woke up in bed later that he realized what else the goddess had done. He cried softly so as not to wake the two babies on his chest. Selene had been small but the other little one, a boy they named Anakin, was even smaller. Stiles couldn’t fall asleep until he knew his son was going to be okay. The name for him was chosen not just because of how much Stiles loves Star Wars but because Anakin means warrior and their son was a fighter.
✶ ❤︎ ✶
Over the course of a decade, they had added two beta wolves, Jackson and Isaac, five humans, Chris, Noah, Genevieve, Sonya and Sasha and two werecats, Spencer and Teddy. Not to mention their Aunt Klarysa. Then they added sixteen children.
Of Stuart and Allison’s children Isabella, Kayden and Kyler are all human. Harper and Hadley are wolves. Keegan has a little magic—they think he’s a light mage—and of course little Christine is a spark.
Of Stiles and Peter’s children Oliver is a wolf—an alpha heir—who will become the alpha after Peter steps aside. Nova and Nora are beta wolves. Raven, Rylee and River are humans. Talia is an omega wolf—Peter is fiercely protective over her more than the rest for that very reason—and her eyes often glow a sea green color instead of beta gold or blue. Anakin and Selene are their sparks.
When he was younger, Stiles always wanted a large family. He never wanted the kind of silence that nearly suffocated him in his home after his mother died. Peter has gladly made his wish come true many times over, and although Stiles never used to picture being pregnant, it’s something so intimate to him that he doesn’t mind a bit. There's something so precious about the little life growing inside him. He especially loved when Peter would always nuzzle at his belly and shift to curl around his front with a happy rumble.
✶ ❤︎ ✶
Stiles is startled from his reminiscing by a kick to his bladder and he groans. “All right.” He rubs at his stomach and gives Allison’s hand a squeeze before heading inside to the bathroom. After he does his business, he takes in his reflection in the mirror. He’s just over thirty four years old now and he doesn’t feel like it at all. He knows that’s part of being not just an Alpha Mate but an Elite Magick Spark and Shadow Mage as well. Still, he expected to feel his age every now and then and when he doesn’t, it always surprises him.
Strong arms wrap around him, hands cupping the swell of his stomach and Stiles sighs happily, leaning into the firm chest of his mate. Peter nuzzles his neck with a happy sigh. “What’s that beautiful brain thinking about now?” the wolf asks softly not wanting to shatter the calm contentment of the moment.
The spark meets his mate’s gaze in the mirror. “I’m reminiscing about the past fourteen years. I’m thinking about each and every moment that led us to this point and I wouldn’t change a thing.”
“No?” Peter inquires. “Not a single thing?”
Stiles shakes his head. “Nope. Not a single thing. Even something miniscule could alter our lives. Can you imagine if altering even one tiny thing, changed things enough that our boys were born girls.”
Peter’s nose scrunches up and Stiles laughs, making the wolf preen. “Well, although Oliver would be perfect either way, I love him as the young man he is becoming. The same can be said for Anakin, although he doesn't have enough hair yet to be considered manly.”
“So, when I’m balding I won’t be manly anymore?” Stiles says with a pout on his lips. He knows what that does to his mate.
“Oh darling, you will always be my man, my mate, my husband and my everything.”
Stiles bites back his grin as best he can, gasping at the way his mate bites at his neck. “Sappywolf,” he manages around a moan. Pregnancy always makes Stiles ten times more horny than normal and that’s saying something. He shoves Peter back and up so he can get at the wolf’s cock to slick it up. Without any preamble he shoves his sweats down, carefully leans against the counter and spreads his legs.
The invitation is all it takes to get the wolf to hitch Stiles’s legs up and slide right in. They learned pretty quickly that when Stiles is pregnant, he leaks slick. After a panic attack and assurances, it’s completely normal from his aunt that left him blushing, he let Peter eat him out for hours. It makes quickies much easier that’s for sure.
It doesn’t take long for Stiles to cum and paint his belly white. Peter growls and pumps his hips harder, his hand rubbing Stiles’s cum into the skin of the pale, mole spotted swell. He pulls out and strokes himself to completion adding his own cum to the mix and rubbing that in too.
Stiles quirks a brow at him and then smirks at the pleased rumble, and puffed out chest of his mate. He says nothing as Peter nuzzles his stomach as he lowers Stiles to his feet once more. The spark absolutely melts when Peter starts talking to their little one in soft soothing tones.
✶ ❤︎ ✶
Forty-five minutes after Stiles left the porch swing, the two mates emerge from the bathroom to find the niblings all curled up in the pack den with their grandpas smack dab in the center. Chris and Noah have these expressions of pure happiness on their faces that let the parents know there is nowhere else the two men would rather be.
Peter shoos Stiles away from the prep work for lunch and Stiles nips at his hand for it before joining Allison outside in one of the two hammocks. The breeze ruffles their hair, and the sun is warm on their faces. Everyone is lazily basking in the feeling of pack.
They might’ve done so for hours if not for the two expectant parents letting out identical cries that made their husbands come running. Since they found out they were pregnant with their first child, they knew they would never go to a hospital. Stuart carries Allison and Peter carries Stiles towards the small cabin where Stuart and Stiles have spent so many countless hours practicing their magic.
It doesn't take long, both Stiles and Allison pros at it by this point. They lace their fingers together and at the alpha’s signal, they push. Stiles can feel the magic building around them with every cry, groan, moan and push. It’s still exhausting no matter how many times they’ve done this before. Stiles always feels odd when just for the birth his spark adjusts his body to give him a vagina so the baby can be born easier. He’s glad to not have to worry about a scar on his stomach although he wouldn’t have cared.
Genevieve, Spencer and Klarysa bring hot water, clean blankets, clothes, cloths and food that they set outside before retreating. Peter may or may not have—absolutely did—gotten extremely territorial the last time anyone got too close.
As the final contractions hit, Allison and Stiles grip each other’s hand so tight their knuckles turn white and let out a scream with their final push. Suspended in time there is nothing but silence as the world seems to fade out of focus before snapping back into focus with the cries of two little ones.
Peter cradles their son so carefully, the awe on his face something Stiles will never get enough of. When ice blue eyes flutter open and meet the eyes of his papa, Peter gasps. “Stiles?”
“Mm?” Stiles hums, feeling sleepy. “Wha’s w’ong?”
“Nothing’s wrong, Dearheart. We just have a little kitten now.”
Stiles’s eyes snap open super wide and he makes grabby hands for their child. “Let me see.”
Peter easily acquiesces to his mate’s plea and settles the little one in the spark’s arms. Once he’s settled, Peter flashes his eyes crimson red and the baby flashes bright orange eyes with just barely discernable black slits before they fade back to blue.
Stiles beams proudly and nuzzles their son who manages to nuzzle back a little. “I know what to call him,” the spark whispers.
“I might have an idea of what you’re thinking. Tell me what we shall call him, sweetheart.”
“Leonidas. Little Leo because he’s just a cub. He’s our little cubbykins and who knows what kind of werecat he’ll be. He could totally be a lion.” Stiles’s words start to slur as the exhaustion sets in and he barely registers his mate’s rumbling chuckle in response.
The alpha curls around his mate smiling fondly as the spark’s will works even in his sleep to clean up their son, himself and wrap the baby in a pale blue blanket with a little white hat on his head. With his mate relaxed and settled, Peter turns his attention to the other spark and his niece.
Allison hiccups a sob as she cradles their daughter to her chest. She’s covered in a sheen of sweat and Stuart is speechless. They name her Lauralie with Peter’s blessing in honor of her Aunt Laura who they lost in the fire. She’s a little omega wolf like Stiles and Peter’s daughter Talia and Allison knows how fiercely Peter will protect little Laura. Allison glances over to see Peter watching and offers him a smile that he easily returns. There’s a certain softness to his features that isn’t there outside these moments. It’s something she loves seeing.
Pretty soon little Laura is back in her arms, cleaned and wrapped in a lavender blanket with a little pastel green hat on her head and Stuart curls around his wife and daughter with glowing turquoise eyes. He and Peter exchange a proud look as Allison and Stiles sleep soundly with their newest babies on their chests. They’ll spend a few hours here in this little bubble together, but it won’t really be that long at all. There’s a reason they come to the cabin to have the children aside from the seclusion. It’s like Stiles said to Stuart a decade ago…‘We are, as of the moment we stepped into the cabin, a step out of time. So…we have time.’
✶ ❤︎ ✶
When they return, they have a giant celebration, all of their children, betas and pack members gathered in the backyard for a bonfire. The mighty Hale Pack under Alpha Peter Hale and Alpha Mate Stiles Hale now numbers thirty-two strong. As for the fire, Stiles and Stuart took every precaution with to ensure Peter would be okay and that the fire would never escape the metal ring. Stiles and Allison are in that state of sleepy but not sleeping and alertness but not fully alert as they sway on the hammocks, their newest niblings asleep on their chests. Peter is fully shifted lying on the ground next to them.
The sparks have strengthened the integrity of the hammocks over the years, so that when the niblings eventually migrate over for cuddles as is the norm during bonfire nights, they can all fit. Pretty soon the two hammocks merge and become a giant one almost like a mattress suspended in the air. It continues growing and growing as each pup joins until it spans half of the yard. It hovers a slow up and down rhythm that puts the youngest ones to sleep and relaxes the rest of the pack to near sleep.
Stuart flicks his finger towards the sky, the clouds parting to let the moon shine brightly upon each and every member. The light of Selene lights up their bonds and sends a surge of the goddesses’s power through them.
The stars burn brighter and several shoot across the sky.
“Ma’e ‘ish ‘addy!” Talia says.
Stiles hums softly and glances at his mate, then his niece—because Allison is Peter’s niece and he’s Peter’s mate, and yeah, it’s a whole thing—and then his father. Next, he scans his gaze over their children, from the eldest two, Oliver and Isabella to the youngest two, Anakin and Lauralie. He watches Jackson and Isaac who mated a couple years ago. Then glances at Sonya, Sasha and Teddy before settling his gaze on his twin. His brother is already looking back at him. With a smile, the older twin closes his eyes and makes his wish a silent hope that echoes in his mind.
‘I wish to never forget how I got here today, to never lose hope, to love without restraint, to raise strong, loyal and compassionate children, to have our pack grow for centuries to come, and to always remember how loved I am by them, how much they are loved by me.’
Kate subtly smirked and flicked her gaze at Pan. “Him.”
Peter stilled and started to turn but Pan knew with heartbreaking certainty that Peter would blame him even though Kate came at him. So, he slipped out of view and by the time Peter turned fully, Pan was gone. Once more, he sought out refuge in the Never Oak and spent a few days visiting with the Maidens of Poseidon. He couldn’t face Peter yet. The serpent temptress, the deadly and evil seductress, had a silver tongue, using it to lash out and smugly manipulating the Never Boy so completely that Pan didn’t know if he possessed any hope that he would beat her.
@steter-stackson-bingo
Card Number: 107
Square: Blood-Stained Letter
1901 — Late Spring, Neverland
As the sun shone down upon them, Pan gently settled on Peter’s shoulder. They were going on a walk today because the Never Boy had told the Sióg he wanted him to meet someone.
“Who are we meeting?” Pan asked.
Peter smiled. “You’ll see.”
Pan was a little nervous but perhaps this was something like the Maids of Poseidon, the Fauna of Artemis, the Flora of Antheia, the Domhan & Dúlra of Áine or any of a number of beings Pan had gotten to know and bond with because of Peter. He had met mermaids, various shifters, sprites, nymphs, dryads and so many more. Neverland was a beautiful place and Pan was so amazed that he got to call it home.
He grinned and curled against the Never Boy’s cheek, his fingers brushing Peter’s curls absentmindedly and his wings tickling the Never Boy’s neck.
Suddenly, they came to a gap in the trees and all thoughts of warm fuzziness faded when Pan heard—
“Peeety!!” a voice called out from up ahead. “Over here sweetie!!”
Pan instantly stiffened. “Peter?” he whispered, warning bells going off in his head, but Peter didn’t even hesitate in his strides as he stepped towards the clearing, towards the voice that made Pan’s body freeze, chills flooding through his veins. Something wasn’t right about this, Pan knew that with absolute certainty and his magic was buzzing insistently, prepared for danger. Why would Peter bring him to meet someone who would set off his magic like this? Still, he trusted Peter, right? So, he wouldn’t leave just yet. Perhaps there was another explanation.
A woman with blonde hair, a sickly golden hue, blue eyes cold as ice and a sharp smile like a predator, waved at Peter as they got closer. “I missed you, baby!”
‘ Seriously? Was she for real? ’ Pan thought to himself but noticed the pink hue of Peter’s cheeks at the sight of her. The sight of that blush was painful, and a sick feeling bubbled in Pan’s stomach. He didn’t like this woman whoever she was, especially when she was able to make him smile like Pan did. Perhaps it was selfish, but Pan wanted to be the only one to make Peter smile like that. Pan was sure that if his cheeks could turn green with envy or jealousy they would.
“I missed you too,” Peter said, a light blush on his cheeks.
Pan’s insides turned to ice, his stomach clenched and his heart broke. He had to bite his lip to keep from crying out as he trembled. He had to get away from here, away from her , immediately.
The Sióg didn’t feel well and silently lifted from Peter’s shoulder. He quickly hid from the stranger’s sight, grateful that she hadn’t seen him. Peter had been planning to introduce Pan to someone and he’d been excited to meet this someone because he’d loved all the beings Peter had introduced him to so far but if Pan had known they were human, had known they were an Argent of all people, he would never have come.
He felt so foolish, so naive for believing there was a chance with Peter, and he felt like a new hatchling once more, hating that he missed the clear scent of ash, smoke and flame upon Peter’s clothes every time he went on one of his errands as he called them. That scent was a cloak worn by every being with a drop of Argent blood in them, a scent so ingrained within their very DNA that Pan had no doubt they would bleed black if one were to slice open their skin.
Pan had no idea how Peter was so completely blind to who this woman was, to this woman’s identity. She was a hunter, a huntress, one that belonged to the oldest and darkest branch of hunters to ever live, and Pan had trusted Peter. The Never Boy knew the Sióg’s story and for Peter to bring him to meet this murderer was a betrayal of the worst kind, whether or not Peter knew who she was. For the Never Boy’s sake, Pan hoped he didn’t know because if he did, there was no telling what the goddess would do.
He was able to keep the tears at bay until they kissed and then he had to speed even further away before the sound of snare drums beating could alert them to his presence.
Back at the house in the tree, their house, Pan quickly grabbed a few things and vanished from the dwelling. It wasn’t safe anymore and well Peter might want his bed for his girly girl. Like hell was the Sióg going to stay there and deal with that.
Then again, he froze at the base of the tree, how would he live with himself if the Argent bitch killed the one that he loved? Pan shook his head, tears of frustration forming in his eyes. No. He couldn’t leave Peter. So, he wouldn’t leave. When Peter came back, Pan would be there and yet he’d be different. He would be full sized and have used his magic to cloak his supernatural features.
Instead of being the height of a mouse on its hind legs with obsidian and ruby wings, chocolate curls and amber eyes along with sparkles in his hair, Pan was now Peter’s height, with chestnut brown hair, no wings and his eyes took on a darker amber shade to be almost melted whiskey colored. He also put on a spare pair of pants that belonged to Peter and a tunic top with a loose belt. Hopefully he could maintain this disguise, this mask of protection until the Argent left. “Goddess be with me, this I plead,” he whispered, sensing that both Peter and the Argent were on their way.
✨ 🍃 🌻 🍃 ✨
Peter returned to his home with Kate in tow, not expecting Pan to still be there but he didn’t say anything about it. After a week had passed things grew tense in the house that had once been home to Peter and Pan but now felt as though one of them didn’t belong and Pan knew that that one of them was him.
Still, he didn’t leave. His dreams shifted to nightmares, flashes of sickly blonde hair and icy eyes full of hate combined with nails sharp as daggers filled his mind. Pan knew true evil was seeping into Neverland but even worse, even more heartbreaking was the deception and manipulation of evil that Peter fell into bed with every night.
Things got worse when Peter left on his weekly patrol of Neverland. Kate approached Pan and began needling at him, determined to break him. She knew there was something more to him, her hunter instincts on high alert but no matter what she did, the boy didn’t give an inch, didn’t break. She tried kissing him, attacking him, tricking him, seducing him and finally resorted to attempting to rape him as a last resort.
“Have you ever known the touch of a woman?” Kate purred seductively, but it just made Pan sick. He didn’t give her any reply. Kate tilted her head consideringly. “Hm. Oh, have you ever known the touch of a man?”
Pan blushed lightly and averted his gaze. He of course hadn’t known such pleasure, but he had fantasized about it. After all, Peter was his maité and he really was beautiful. There was of course the whole courting ritual that had to be completed, little traditions he wanted to keep, that he had often pictured his own parents doing, but Pan loved to think about those things just as much as he thought about Peter's looks. However, there was so much more to being a maité and Pan didn't just love how Peter looked . Pan loved how Peter smiled , how he laughed , how he had nursed Pan back to health and how he had saved his life. The soft smile that formed on Pan's face at all of the memories couldn't have been helped. He averted his gaze further from Kate and blushed from the tip of his scrunched up nose to the tip of his toes.
Kate smirked and laughed, misinterpreting his reaction somewhat and seeing fit to tease him. “I see. You haven’t but you want to, don't you?" she purred.
"I—" Pan flinched a little and glanced at Kate, confused by her words and actions. "What?" His stomach churned as he began to sense they were both viewing this a little differently. Sure, Pan had considered mating and what all it would entail, especially with Peter but he wouldn't do so all willy nilly. Mating was equal to love for him unlike others who saw it differently. Peter and Kate had been mating a lot from what Pan was able to scent, and it broke him a little more each time. He shook his head again and latched on tight to the feeling that overwhelmed him every time Peter smiled.
"You heard me just fine, sweetie. Now, shall I show you? You’ve got such pretty pink lips that are just begging to be bitten, begging to be kissed and a body that’s desperate to be ruined, that's desperate to be debauched.” She gripped his jaw, her nails digging into his pale flesh, and he had to fight down his magic, the instinct to protect himself so strong that he had to freeze to keep from lashing out at her. If Pan let his magic do what it wanted, Kate would know what he was and that would put everyone in Neverland in danger, especially Peter. Peter was so in love with this woman, however, that he would probably let her slit his throat and thank her for it. Pan squeezed his eyes shut and shook that thought away. Peter wasn't so blind really but—
He winced at the feeling of her nails digging into his chin even harder as she moved her mouth closer to his. Then she shifted to the side and whispered in his ear. “You might as well take what I’m offering, sweetie. After all, you can’t have him. He’s mine. However, I can’t help but pity you and I'm offering to rid you of that precious pesky cherry.”
“Ch-Cherry?” Pan parroted, bemused at the word.
“Awe. Such an innocent little boy you are,” Kate cooed, patting his cheek with faux sympathy and smiling mockingly at him. “It means I’m offering to take your virginity.”
Pan paled and shook his head vigorously. “No! You’re with Peter. Why would you even suggest that? I don’t like women like that!!” His cheeks were bright red, and he felt both dizzy and nauseous. “Let me go!”
Kate glared at him and shoved him to the ground, having had enough of playing nice. Her hand cupped his groin and as she straddled him, Pan started hyperventilating. He nearly reached for his magic but at the feeling of a cool blade against his throat, he slumped back. He couldn’t use his magic as it would reveal his status as a Sióg and put Peter in danger. So, instead, Pan froze in fear and something akin to resignation.
The only reason he managed to wrench himself away, managed to maintain his innocence as it were, was because Peter showed up right as Kate was fiddling with the waistband of his pants. His sudden appearance startled them both. Kate had a split lip and a bruise on her cheek from their fight but compared to Pan her injuries were minor. Pan himself had bruises all over his body, especially his wrists and throat, small cuts along his jaw from Kate’s nails, as well as a gash in his stomach and a gash on his head. Despite all of that, Peter didn’t notice, his eyes locked on Kate, and he demanded that she tell him who had harmed her.
Kate subtly smirked and flicked her gaze at Pan. “Him.”
Peter stilled and started to turn but Pan knew with heartbreaking certainty that Peter would blame him even though Kate came at him. So, he slipped out of view and by the time Peter turned fully, Pan was gone. Once more, he sought out refuge in the Never Oak and spent a few days visiting with the Maidens of Poseidon. He couldn’t face Peter yet. The serpent had a silver tongue, manipulating the Never Boy so completely that Pan didn’t know how he’d beat her.
Rhys, Nym and Mena tried to comfort him, taught him to swim and breathe underwater but the distraction only helped for so long. Soon enough, it was time to return but Pan’s resolve was hardened. He would wait and when Peter was alone, he would unmask Kate’s true identity.
His opportunity came much sooner than he expected but he was relieved. The sooner she was gone, the sooner things would be as they had been before.
The following morning, when Kate had to briefly step out for reasons that she offered only evasiveness to, Pan went to Peter. For all the distance that seemed between them now, Pan still loved Peter and he had to tell him, had to tell him who and what Kate was. He could only hope and pray to the goddess that Peter believed him.
However, at that point, Peter was frustrated and rageful. He had been feeling cockblocked, by someone who he thought was his friend. So, the Never Boy snapped at the Sióg and Pan froze in shock, unable to voice a single word, his heart cracking at the disdain in Peter’s voice. At that point, Pan realized he had lost his friend for good.
Still, Pan straightened his shoulders and met Peter’s furious, and hate filled eyes with fire in his own eyes. Peter might not have been in love with him, but Pan’s love wouldn’t fade. A maité once chosen was for life even if the chosen maité never reciprocated. So, despite the way Peter treated him, Pan shifted his focus to protecting Neverland as a whole instead of his heart being set on protecting Peter. If the Never Boy ended up the most protected even still, well that wasn’t for anyone but Panteleimon alone to know.
He left the house, ignoring the Never Boy’s persistent words and emotions, seeking refuge once more in the Never Oak until the sun set and he went to retrieve a few items, precious to him because they were either from his birthplace, had been gifted to him by Peter or had been gifted to him by the Maids of Poseidon.
✨ 🍃 🌻 🍃 ✨
That night, while Pan retrieved his possessions, Peter and Kate went to bed together, and Pan quickly slipped out, hot tears spilling from his eyes to coat his cheeks. He couldn’t stay any longer, especially not after the venomous words Peter had spat at him. It seemed the snake, the serpent had well and truly slithered into their home and poisoned Peter against Pan, against his friend.
The moans of the two lovers echoed in Pan’s mind as he ran and suddenly, a stray thought hit him, a sense of deja vu as they called it. The stray thought led him to believe that he had experienced this before, but he shook it off and kept running. He ended up returning to his normal size, now once more no taller than a mouse on its hind legs. He needed to be quicker now, no longer needing his full size because he had only adapted to protect his Peter, the man he loved and to protect the knowledge of what he was.
However, he wondered if Peter had let that information slip to the serpent. He wouldn’t be surprised if he had. Perhaps stoking the fire and desire in a man’s manhood was the way to get him to divulge all his secrets. If that was the case, Pan wasn’t safe here anymore. He had considered leaving behind a note of some kind to explain his absence, but he didn’t. For one, he wasn’t sure if Peter would notice or care. Then there was Kate who might find it and destroy it which would mean it was pointless to even consider. Lastly, Pan had attempted to pen a note but ended up pricking his fingers and that meant the letter bore tiny stains of blood. That was fitting in a way since Pan felt like his heart was bleeding too. So, the letter was stashed in his things, hidden away from the one person he wished could, that he wished would, read it. With a shudder and a stifled cry of agony, he shoved those thoughts aside and continued his journey further and further away from the place that he had called home since the night Peter rescued him.
It was hard to see through his tears, his flight shaky, his wings dulling slightly with every throb of pain in his heart, but he pressed on, not stopping for anything and barely holding himself together as he flew to the one place that he swore he would never go.
✨ 🍃 🌻 🍃 ✨
He soon arrived at the far side of the island, returned to human size and knocked. His hands shook slightly as he waited for the inhabitant to answer. It was the one place in Neverland he swore he would never go but the island was his home. He supposed that he could leave if he truly wanted to, but Peter was here, and Pan loved him.
The door creaked open, and a man leaned against the doorway, crossing his arms over his chest, crossing one ankle over the other and quirked an eyebrow at the boy. “Well, well well would you look at what we have here. A little Sióg.”
“Hello, Killian,” Pan whispered.
“Thought you said you’d never come to my side of things.”
Pan shrugged one shoulder. “Things change as do minds. I can find somewhere else if you’d prefer. Goddess knows any number of beings would let me stay with them but I just…” he trailed off.
The man’s expression softened. “Just what love?”
“They were all Peter’s friends first and you–y-you were the only one whom I befriended all on my own. So, I thought that—I mean but obviously I was—I’m sorry I’ll just—” He gestured over his shoulder and started to use his magic to return to his normal size but stopped when Killian spoke, the man’s voice the softest Pan had ever heard.
“None of that now. Come.” The pirate captain stepped aside and ushered the young boy inside his home. Then he pulled the door shut behind them and surveyed the boy’s demeanor, not liking how defeated he looked. Then, as he took stock of the boy’s injuries and the fear in his eyes, he felt rage unlike anything he’d felt before. Something had happened to upset the only being that the pirate could stand to be around, and Killian wouldn’t rest until he learned just what that something was.
While the pirate captain was lost in thought, trying to parse things out, Pan was taking stock of his body and state of mind. It was strange to Pan being human sized, but it just meant he wasn’t in the fantasy world, in the Sióg world right now. At least Killian knew what he was though at first Pan hadn’t trusted the man, but his magic and the goddess told him that if anyone could be trusted with such a sacred secret, it was Killian Jones.
Said man watched the Sióg with a calculating expression on his face. “What did he do?”
“What did who do?” Pan replied, feigning ignorance.
Killian sighed and crossed his arms once more. “What did Peter do?”
Pan froze for a moment and then shrugged, his shoulders slumping. “He fell in love, but it wasn’t with me.” The Sióg could see Killian had questions, but he didn’t press. For that, Pan was beyond grateful. He didn't want to talk about Peter or Kate or anything that had happened, not now and maybe not ever.
“Have ye eaten, kid?”
“No, sir.”
“Come along then.”
✨ 🍃 🌻 🍃 ✨
Pan’s body broke out in a heavy sweat, his hands gripping the sheets, his head thrashing back and forth.
☆
“All you have to do is kill him, Peter. You’ll kill him for me. Won’t you?”
“Why must I kill him?”
“Because, sweetie. If you don’t kill him, he’ll kill you.”
“What? Pan isn’t like that!”
“Isn’t he? Where is he if he’s your best friend? If he cares so much and you’re so close, then why isn’t he here?”
“I-I don’t know?”
“I’ll bet he’s jealous that he doesn’t have all your attention now that you’re in love with me. He’s probably waiting to swoop in and take me out so he can have you for himself. It’s him or me, baby. Can’t you see that?”
“Yes. I thought he—”
“No sweetie. He’s a liar. He tricked you. That’s what creatures like him do.”
“But he—”
“Nope.”
“Oh.”
“I know it hurts sweetie but now you understand, and you’ll do this for me, won’t you?”
“Yes.”
“Yes what, baby?”
“Yes, I’ll kill him for you. He won’t hurt you.”
“Good boy.”
☆
The nightmare was the worst he ever had. Pan had only ever felt like that the night Peter saved him when he had almost died. His head whipped to the side again, a cry lodged in his throat.
☆
“We’re so close, Daddy. I can feel it!”
“Good. Not long now. You remember your orders?”
“Yes, Father.”
“Recite.”
“Find the boy. Get the boy alone. Manipulate the boy. Pretend to love the boy. Make the boy fall in love. Burn Neverland to ashes.”
“Good. See that you don’t fuck this up or you’ll regret it until the day you die.”
“I will make you proud, Daddy. I promise. We will dine on fae blood.”
☆
Pan bolted upright, and barely startled when the bedroom door was thrown open at Hook’s entrance. The air crackled with electricity as amber eyes flashed molten gold and locked with Hook’s own eyes.
Neverland was in danger. It was more than just Pan’s broken heart and friendship on the line. He wouldn’t let that woman carry out her orders. She would burn before any harm could come to Neverland or to Peter.
✨ 🍃 🌻 🍃 ✨
Before going to face Kate, however, Pan needed to say goodbye. He stopped at what used to be his and Peter’s house, that had once been their home before Kate slithered in. Peter had his back to the door and was immersed in a book. The sight made Pan’s heart ache with want. He shook his head to dispel those thoughts. It was easy for Pan to slip some magic into Peter’s mind and lull him to sleep. He kissed Peter’s forehead, a couple tears hitting the Never Boy’s cheeks and then whispered. “I’m sorry, Peter. I—” He cleared his throat and let out a choked sob. “I love you.”
Then, he left, knowing that the fight with Kate would soon commence but he wasn’t worried, and he wasn't afraid. He was ready come whatever, come what may. After all, with Peter safely asleep for the fight’s duration and sealed in the house until the death blow, Pan wouldn’t be distracted or kept from ending her.
Title: Peter & the Sunflower: Chapter #3 | 1900 - Autumn, Neverland
Pairing: Steter [Stiles + Peter]
Rating: Mature
Warning/Tags:
None
Summary:
“Pan! Come here. I want you to meet some people.”
Pan tilted his head and joined Peter, turning to follow the boy’s gaze. He gaped at the three beings below them, sitting like royalty on the smooth obsidian rocks. “Sirens?” he whispered, shocked.
“In a sense, yes. They prefer the term mermaids. However, they are just as deadly and much prettier.”
@steter-stackson-bingo
Card Number: 107
Square: Sirens Are Mermans
1900 — Autumn, Neverland
Pan fell in love with his new home. Neverland was beautiful and he relished in all the serenity. There were so many colors, such a glorious thing to see after hatching to find a barren ash colored wasteland instead of the meadow of helianthus it should’ve been.
He came to Neverland with nothing but after a week had more than he could ever possibly use. Peter offered to teach him how to make clothes if he wanted to. Pan was delighted to learn and now had one set of clothes for each day of the week. He still went barefoot but would now wear a small tunic made from one of Peter’s favorite tunics, a little belt to tie it made from leather and a tiny pair of pants made from the same material as Peter’s tights. His favorites to wear were the red tunic, black belt and black pants since they matched his wings. He also learned to make a small quilt for his feather bed. It was fun to learn, and he grew closer with Peter during that time.
A few months later, Peter led him to the Numquam Grotto, also known as the Never Grotto. It stole Pan’s breath, his amber eyes wide with awe and wonder. The moon was high and full in the sky as they whizzed through the cavernous space. With giggles like bells, Pan trailed his fingers and toes through the water, using some of his magic to flick water at Peter.
The Never Boy laughed and shot ahead before doubling back and letting out a crow. Pan blushed as his stomach flipped a little at the sound. The Never Boy sounded so joyous. The Sióg was starting to realize that he had formed an attachment to Peter. He wasn’t sure what to make of it but at the boy’s beckoning and giant grin, he pushed the thought off for now.
“Pan! Come here. I want you to meet some people.”
Pan tilted his head and joined Peter, turning to follow the boy’s gaze. He gaped at the three beings below them, sitting like royalty on the smooth obsidian rocks. “Sirens?” he whispered, shocked.
“In a sense, yes. They prefer the term mermaids. However, they are just as deadly and much prettier.”
“Oh. Well, I suppose they are pretty. The way they look I’m sure aided them in drawing people in. Then, the deadly part comes into play?” Pan flushed nervously as Peter’s eyes found his own. “They’re your friends?”
“Yep!” Peter said, popping the p. “But, they’re harmless to me and you, okay?”
Pan sent him a nervous smile. “Promise?”
Peter grinned and held out his pinky. “I promise.”
With a scrunched up nose, Pan wrapped his small pale hand around Peter’s pinkie and shook it. “Good.” They stared at each other for a bit, until a splash of water echoed around the cavern, drawing their attention.
“A dolphin!” Pan exclaimed in a breathless whisper of excitement, his wings shivering and fluttering. “It’s gorgeous.” His eyes were glued to the way the creature swam, like the goddess had taught her to dance along with the ocean’s rhythm. Pan was unaware of the admiring gaze of the Never Boy who never got tired of seeing the wonder on his friend’s face.
After the dolphin had disappeared again, Peter gently nudged the Sióg. “Wanna know their names?”
“Uh yes! Absolutely. Um. I mean assuming they don’t mind?”
“Not at all. So first the one there with blue shells and blue scales with hair like golden sun rays is named Nymeria but I call her Nym or Ria. Second is the raven haired woman there with emerald shells and emerald scales. Her name is Rhymise but I call her Rhys or Ry. Then, last but not least, the one there with lavender shells, lavender scales and hair like a dragon’s fire is Philomena but I call her Mena.”
“Woah,” Pan said softly. “I thought merfolk were super secret or at least isolated. How come they’re not?”
Peter glanced at Pan and then shrugged one shoulder, seemingly nonchalant but his cheeks pinked as he said, “There was a terrible hurricane one year, stretched from the water’s surface to the bottom of the ocean. They were the only ones to survive. I offered them a haven. Here they aren’t disturbed by anyone. Here they don’t have to be afraid.”
Pan’s heart began to race as he admired the blush on Peter’s cheeks, his wings shivering with pride. He had to push away the stray thought that had been plaguing his mind lately. He couldn’t push it away completely though and so, in his mind, only to himself he would agree that Peter would be the perfect maité for him, or for any Sióg really but such things were the things of dreams, not reality.
“Oh, fair maidens of Poseidon, I have returned. Where’s my hello, Nym, Rhys, and Mena?”
The three mermaids whipped their heads in Peter’s direction and trilled happily as they leapt into the water and swam toward them. “Hello, Peter!” they sang out, their teeth sharp, and deadly and yet hauntingly beautiful. “We missed you!”
Pan’s stomach clenched at the sight of utter adoration in their eyes but when he looked at Peter, sure he’d find the same adoration in his, he was shocked to find the Never Boy completely oblivious. In a way, Pan was glad, because if Peter recognized the look in their eyes, surely he’d recognize the same look in Pan’s eyes.
Unaware of his new friend’s internal struggles, Peter regaled the maids with tales of his adventures, and Pan found himself just as enraptured by them as the maids were.
When it came time to leave, Pan was speechless as the maids each offered him a small shell. It was their approval of him, and he tried not to get emotional when he promised he’d return to play soon.
Peter kept close to him that night, sensing his friend’s emotions and Pan was grateful for the closeness, but even more grateful that the Never Boy didn’t ask what was wrong.
As Peter slipped into dreamland, Pan, curled up in his meadowlark feather bed, remained awake. It was nearly impossible to fall asleep, for the emotional toll he experienced with the maids made his heart hurt too much to so easily greet the sandman.
When he had cradled those small shells and had met the gazes of the maids, Pan couldn’t help that he desperately missed his parents. So, confident that the Never Boy was finally asleep, Pan began to cry, the sound of snare drums echoing in the small house as he finally began to grieve. He wept for his parents, wept the hatchlings that never got to live, wept the helianthus blossoms that never bloomed, the flora, the fauna and the goddess herself, for all who were marked by the fire in the valley. Only then, after hours had passed and the sun began to rise, did Pan finally succumb to sleep.
Stiles huffed as he sat down on his bed. His best friend Isaac was on the phone and had been graciously listening to Stiles rant for the past half hour. “He’s such a fucking asshole but he’s…”
“He’s…?” Isaac inquired.
“He’s so geeking gorgeous dude!”
@steter-stackson-bingo
Card Number: 107
Square: Meet Ugly
Mieczyslaw Miezko Gemini Gajos Stilinski, more commonly known as Miko by his father, Mischeif by his mother and Stiles everyone else, moved from a very tiny town called Yellville, Arkansas to Los Angeles, California. He was so not happy about changing schools but he also understood.
His mother had been offered a prestigious position at the University of California. It made sense to move and he had always been good about meeting new people, it was the whole keeping them around after meeting them that was where he flopped.
He arrived early on Wednesday morning halfway through the first week of school, which was better than halfway through the year. He would be a senior, taking almost all AP Classes, and he had plans damn it. He was going to college and it would be perfect just like he’d always planned.
Even if for most of his life the world seemed out to get him, at least Stiles could always count on himself. He was even more grateful for that fact after he nearly brained himself on his locker door when he finally got it open. His ears turned pink and his cheeks were hot with mortification. “One year. Just one,” he mumbled as he shut his locker and made his way to his first period class.
⟡ ❤︎ 🕶️ ❤︎ ⟡
Jackson was eyeing the food in the lunch line when his teammate, Garrett, elbowed him. “What?!” he snapped.
“Dude look!” Garrett said earnestly. With an eye roll, Jackson looked. There was a newbie apparently and weren’t newbies such fun? “Supposedly his mother got some big position at the university. He just moved here.”
“Uh huh,” Jackson said, feigning interest. “Why do we care?”
His teammate frowned. “Well, you never know what some good gossip might get ya. For example, his first name is some super strange Polish thing and in total his given name is dove names long, but thankfully he goes by Stiles. Although, I’m very curious what the five names are because Stiles isn’t one of them.
Jackson snorted. “His parents must’ve wanted to torture the kid or something.”
Garrett didn’t laugh. “I don’t know but it’s just him and his mom.”
”Yikes,” Jackson mumbled, feeling and uncharacteristic sense of sympathy for the teen that he quickly shoved aside. “What else do you know?”
“Oh, and now that he’s here, your ex got bumped down to numero dos in our grade. Lydia didn’t know whether to be pissed or impressed. I think she’s a bit of both. Anyway, his scores and grades are top notch. He’s single, and gay or bi, I’m still not sure on that. He’s incredibly smart, a total genius. He’s also sarcastic and—Oh!”
Jackson looked over just in time to see said genius trip over air and nearly smash his face into the lunch table. His glasses nearly paid the price along with his nose. “Yikes. New kid looks like a lumberjack dressed him. Who wears that much plaid? Also, are we sure he’s in our grade? He looks like a child.”
“I dunno dude. Maybe he’ll keep things interesting. I don’t want to be bored all year.”
⟡ ❤︎ 🕶️ ❤︎ ⟡
Stiles was so embarrassed and he decided to seek refuge within the pages of his favorite novel. It was easier than facing a lunchroom full of strangers. He knew how cruel people could be. Still, when he took a seat in science class and was paired with some douche canoe, he realized that he hadn’t considered city boy cruelty.
Within minutes, Jackson—more like Jackass—Whittemore was frowning at him and asking him who dressed him. He even went so far as to call out all of Stiles’s quirks, and while Stiles recognized it was mostly ignorance on the city prick’s part, he couldn’t bite his tongue once the bell rang.
“Would you shut the hell up you asshole?! Listen Jackass Whipemore...I don’t care what you think about my clothes, my hair, my voice, my anything, okay?! I’m a rarefied and acquired taste, thus my reason for not having any fucks to give when it comes to what you think of me. What I do care about is the fact that you just wasted a whole damn class period on that when we have a project to do. I’m not afraid to let you sink on your own. Now shut your trap and move out of my way because I don’t want to be late for the last period.”
⟡ ❤︎ 🕶️ ❤︎ ⟡
Jackson just stared in shock as the new kid, Stiles—What the hell is a Stiles?—gave him a tongue lashing and left. It wasn’t the kind of tongue lashing Jackson preferred either, though he quickly pushed those thoughts away. “Whatever,” he grumbled to himself. “Fuck him.”
Yeah. Fuck him. Jackson would love to. Stiles was so gosh darn gorgeous. If only he wasn’t such a fashion fail. If only he wasn’t a geek. If he was neither, then Jackson would take him to bed tonight. Then again he could always take him to bed and then that would be one and done. Right?!
⟡ ❤︎ 🕶️ ❤︎ ⟡
Stiles huffed as he sat down on his bed. His best friend Isaac was on the phone and had been graciously listening to Stiles rant for the past half hour. “He’s such a fucking asshole but he’s…”
“He’s…?” Isaac inquired.
“He’s so geeking gorgeous dude. Like if only he was more laidback about looks. He is such a city boy. If only he was a bit more geeky. He’s not stupid but he’s not exactly the brightest crayon in the box either.”
“First day and you already have a crush, Stiles. Damn.”
“What?! No I-I don’t!”
He totally did but it was more of a I hate you, now go fuck yourself but, you know, go fuck yourself after you fuck me. Stiles groaned. He was so screwed.
No, the demon took pleasure in breaking Stiles’s mind piece by piece. Such a young spark with no training or protections in place made for the perfect plaything. So, he turned his chaos inward.
“Y-You’re not real,” Stiles says, his voice so soft it’s almost inaudible. “I-I defeated you!”
The shadow sways and then smirks, the rotten teeth sharpening dangerously. “We cannot be defeated little boy. What threat are you to us? Us who has been alive since dawn of time? It is we who own you.”
@steter-stackson-bingo
Card Number: 107
Square: Slasher Smile
June is the month Stiles dedicates entirely to his training. His Aunt Klarysa and his cousin Spencer work with him for hours every single day. Peter will often hang around in his full shift form, something he gained thanks to the mate bond and new alpha spark.
Stiles grimaces as the tree finally levitates to an upright position once more. Then he gets the wind knocked out of him as Spencer sweeps his feet out from under him. “FUCK!” he says through gritted teeth.
Spencer stands and offers his little cousin a hand. Stiles just shoves it away and shakes his head, pushing himself to his feet. He only sways a little before heading towards another tree. “Again.”
Klarysa lets him blow off some steam for a couple hours as she tells Peter her plan. He reluctantly doesn’t stop them when she directs an exhausted Stiles to walk with her.
As the spark and the Wrażliwy na aurę become mere specks in the distance, Spencer plops down onto the porch with no grace whatsoever.
Peter tilts his head. “He’s not going to get better if he doesn’t find a way out of this whole mental state that he’s currently drowning in.”
Spencer quirks a brow and gulps in several gulps of air, said air filling his lungs over and over again. “Yeah. Well, that’s what mother is going to help with. He’s got all the raw ability that is limitless, but he’s just stuck. It happens to all magic users at some point.”
“I remember my mother’s emissary dealing with something of the same. Hers was more the loss of her husband and child in a car wreck. Nothing could be done about it. Her magic could not bring them back. If not for my mother, she might very well have killed herself to join them.”
“Lucky for her she had your mother then,” Spencer says quietly, his eyes focused on the direction in which the two magic users disappeared.
Peter tilts his head in a slight nod. “Indeed.”
✶ 🔎 ❤︎ 🔍 ✶
While Klarysa’s home seems rather isolated and very deep in a forest, there is another smaller cabin even deeper in that only she visits. The foliage is thick and disorienting. Not even the sun shines through. It’s not long before Stiles finds himself lost. He could’ve sworn she was right in front of him. His heart starts to beat faster as he spins around. “Ciocia Klarysa?”
There is no response and that’s when he starts to truly panic. Silence and darkness are his worst fears since the Nogitsune. Just as his vision starts to blur, he hears an echo in his mind.
“Mieszko.”
“Ciocia Klarysa?” he chokes out and turns, trying to find the voice.
The trees begin to sway as a rough wind picks up. Stiles’s eyes go wide in terror as a shadow seemingly emerges from the trunk of a tree.
“Little Mieszko,” the shadow hisses. “So much fear. You should be afraid.”
Stiles steps back, his eyes never leaving the one who still haunts him even now years after the possession. He remembers every second of being a puppet. Though they at first believed he would start killing other people, that is not what happened.
No, the demon took pleasure in breaking Stiles’s mind piece by piece. Such a young spark with no training or protections in place made for the perfect plaything. So, he turned his chaos inward.
“Y-You’re not real,” Stiles says, his voice so soft it’s almost inaudible. “I-I defeated you!”
The shadow sways and then smirks, the rotten teeth sharpening dangerously. “We cannot be defeated little boy. What threat are you to us? Us who has been alive since dawn of time? It is we who own you.”
Something about the statement shocks Stiles out of his terror for a few precious moments. His hand brushes over his mating mark. “No.” He doesn’t raise his voice, simply saying the one word but that one word makes the shadow angry even as it stills completely. Stiles smiles as a few stray tears slip down his cheeks. “I love my mate. I love Peter and he loves me.”
The shadow laughs, sending shivers down Stiles’s spine. “No one in their right mind could love you! Then again, no one ever said that the wolf was in his right mind. Regardless, he may be your mate, but you belong to us!” it hisses.
“I belong to my mate, and he belongs to me,” Stiles says, his smile shifting into a smirk, “...but there is no ownership. We are equals. No one owns me.”
This time, when the wind grows rougher, it’s accompanied by burning amethyst orbs, shining from the place where amber eyes normally reside.
“We are not afraid of you, Little Mieszko,” the being says with a smile befitting a serial killer, slasher and psycho all at once. It makes Stiles shiver. “We know what it is that makes you scream. Do you wonder what it is that makes us scream? You do not scare us. You are nothing to us. We are not scared of you.”
Stiles smirks darkly, a hint of fang showing as a black wisp of smoke joined by three more rises up behind him. “Pity. You should be terrified.”
He brings his hand up and tilts his head consideringly. The wind is now knocking the shadow around while Stiles himself remains steadfast. Between one breath and the next a blood curdling shriek, a chorus of hisses and a burning white light erupt. Stiles doesn’t look away as he speaks.
“Non timeo te amplius. Abite compedes Nogitsune chaos. Ego me liberavi.”
With those words, the shadow explodes outward and then is sucked in like a vacuum, before becoming nothing. Though his breath is slightly labored Stiles feels like a chain, shackle and lock have been broken. He grabs at his chest, sucking in deep breaths. “I-I did it.” He laughs wetly.
A look around finds him still clueless as to where he is, but a tree looks slightly different. Maybe that’s the way. “Ciocia Klarysa?”
He takes a step forward only to once again freeze at the sound of another presence, a voice that has haunted his nightmares. “Hello Little rabbit.”
Stiles trembles, his hands forming fists as his nails dig into his palms. The pain and slight cuts, bringing blood to the surface, ground him. “Don’t call me that!” he snaps, his tone dripping with icy venom.
The alpha wolf, now a mere shadow but resulting in rising terror nonetheless, stalks closer. “We didn’t get to finish our little game. You’re so powerful little rabbit. I want that in a mate.”
“I have a mate!” Stiles spits. “He has claimed me, and I’ve claimed him. So, you can f-fuck off!”
“Don’t be scared little rabbit. I’ll make it good for you.”
Stiles shudders and takes a step back. He remembers the attack like it was yesterday. The fear and helplessness he felt consumed him, threatening to do so now. He can hear the wolf getting closer but unlike last time, something within him bursts open and with a simple look, he constricts the wolf’s airways.
Clawed hands clutch at the shadowed throat, but Stiles tightens his grip. With another thought, the wolf rises into the air, his feet scrambling to keep upright. It’s no use though as a white fire erupts in a never ending sphere around him.
A dark smirk forms on the spark’s face as Stiles wills the sphere to grow smaller and smaller, He relishes in the shrieks of pain the wolf lets out, accompanied by high pitched howls of agony.
The spark is not unfeeling, but he knows that some threats cannot live. Though both the Nogitsune and the wolf are but of the shadows now, they still reside inside him. They have been keeping him from all that he is destined to be. He faced one foe and as the sphere closes the final few millimeters of space, there’s another burst of light. Stiles once again, doesn’t look away.
Though his breath is even more labored now, Stiles feels a second chain, shackle and lock break inside him. His eyes flutter shut as a heat so all encompassing washes over him. It floods every fiber of his being. His fingers spark, his muscles thrum with energy and his bond sings.
The spark falls to his knees, sobbing uncontrollably as a feeling he’s never felt before, overtakes him. He manages to press his hand against his chest and rub, feeling a pleasant reaction from his spark. The four black shadow wisps slip back into him until they are needed again. He sinks both hands into the earth as he hangs his head.
“Liber. Liber sum. Liberavi me. Omnia, quæ ego sum, fregi vincula. Non tenebar amplius tenebris et umbra. Ego enim sum tenebrae. lux sum. Nam umbra sum. Ego sum scintilla.”
✶ 🔎 ❤︎ 🔍 ✶
Stiles has no concept of time only coming out of his thoughts when a soft caress alerts him to another presence. He’s not afraid as he opens his eyes. For a moment he thinks it’s his aunt but then a slight glow forms around the being of light and he sucks in a harsh breath. “Matka.”
Klaudiya smiles and presses a warm kiss to his forehead. She is not really here but she is never far away either. For a few precious minutes she holds her son, imparting the warmth of her own magic. She silently erases the very last essence of tragedy from her son’s aura, the stain her death left behind on the chłopak.
Another kiss is placed on his forehead, Stiles’s eyes slipping closed at the caress. From behind his eyelids, he sees the light begin to dim before diminishing completely. She’s gone.
✶ 🔎 ❤︎ 🔍 ✶
“Mieszko,” a voice calls softly.
Stiles’s eyes flutter open, meeting his aunt’s gaze. “You planned this.” It’s not a question because he knows she did.
“I did, słodki siostrzeniec. You would not have been able to thrive. Your spark would not have thrived either, if you did not face that which has wrought pain and darkness into your life.”
“I bound myself. Didn’t I?” he asks, despite being certain the answer is yes.
Klarysa nods. “Through no intentional fault of your own. It was a fear response.”
Stiles huffs and slowly stands, surprised and yet not when he finds them sitting in the cabin. “How?”
“You tell me, Mieszko. How did I do it?” she asks.
“The cleansing you did when we met that first day of classes. You didn’t get rid of the darkness. You kept it. You knew I would have to face it and today you made sure I did.”
She gives him a proud smile even as her expression is slightly sad. “I did. I do not want you to suffer but suffering is how we learn. The past will always follow us. This is fact and fate entwined. However, when we face the past head on with nothing but will and resolve and wiara… We find out what defines our strength.”
Stiles swallows thickly as he listens. He acknowledges and accepts the past. He accepts and treasures the gift of the present. The spark treasures, appreciates and hopes for the future. “Twoja lekcja została dobrze odrobiona.”
Klarysa smiles. “Thank you, Spark,” she says with pearl colored eyes. Then she leans forward slightly. “Tell me what you have learned.” Her tone is encouraging as she watches him mull over her question.
Stiles chews his lip, his body surprisingly still. “Each event is a shadow. The bigger the event the bigger the shadow but the ability to face it and come out victorious has always been there. I just needed to realize and comprehend it. The past cannot be ignored but once faced loses its hold. It will never be gone but its strength and its power are only defined by the weight we give them.”
“Aye, słodki siostrzeniec. You are only limited by your belief in your will. So long as you believe, none can hope to stop you or stand against you. Well done.”
There isn’t much to say and Stiles finds the silence is comfortable, the need to fill it nearly non-existent. The only thing needing to be said is: “Dziękuję.”
A soft smile comes from his aunt as she nods, pouring them each a cup of tea. “Nie ma za co.”
✶ 🔎 ❤︎ 🔍 ✶
When Peter and Stiles leave after dinner, the wolf can tell something happened to his mate. He is dying to know but isn’t going to pester the spark for answers. Peter can scent the amusement on his mate along with the slight amusement bleeding through their bond.
It’s not until they’re washing dishes—Peter drying and Stiles washing—that the subject is finally broached. “I did it.” Stiles's voice is soft, and he keeps his eyes on the soapy water.
“Did what?” the wolf asks, his tone just as soft as his mate’s.
“Faced the shadows.”
“Shadows?” Peter intones confused.
Stiles nods as he finishes washing the last glass. “Mhm. Shadows of my past but I didn’t just face them.” Amber eyes flash amethyst and a bright grin is sent Peter's way. “I defeated them. I destroyed them. I ended them.”
Something like bone deep and soul deep want consumes Peter at his mate’s words. Stiles seems to be of the same mind as the wolf and they leave a trail of ripped clothing all the way to the bedroom. This time Stiles takes his mate for the first time and by the time they’ve both cum, Peter is incoherent, only able to rumble in his chest. Stiles offers his own purr—almost catlike—in reply as they lazily kiss until they fall asleep.
I wanted to ask a quick question. For Steter-Stackson Bingo, can we use prompts for multi-chapter fics even if we don't use a prompt in the first chapter?
As their king, it was Noah’s responsibility to see to the people’s health, their well-being, their safety, their happiness and their love. Stiles vowed to save them all and take up the mantle Noah had tossed aside, the mantle he was no longer worthy of. In fact, it was the mantle he had never been worthy of. Noah had married into the Gajos Royal Family and without Stiles, without Claudia or any of her blood, the man had no claim to the throne.
The truth was immensely satisfying, and Stiles knew he’d be returning to his home. After all, he was the rightful ruler now sealed in blood that none could break. Not even his stepmother the witch bitch would stand a chance. Especially not after he had added extra layers of security to the blood binding oath once he became aware of who and what his stepmother was.
A roar was trying to escape from Peter’s very pissed off wolf, but he snarled instead which was just as fear inducing. “How dare you!” the alpha snapped. “Do you always speak in such a way to your customers?”
“Only the special ones, sir. Now as I said you—”
“Watch yourself. I am well aware of what you think of my mate but if you can’t keep such vile things inside your head, I’d be happy to remove your tongue. How does that sound?”
The manager went pale and shook his head though he did not budge from his place, staring down the alpha. “Then I must ask you to leave. This kind of behavior is unacceptable in this establishment.”
Temporary Character Death
Car Accident
Major Injury
Summary:
“You’ll never be my equal in anything,” Peter sneered.
“What?” Stiles asked but his tone had shifted.
“You heard me, Stiles. If this is all about equality to you, then you might as well give up. It’ll never happen.”
@steter-stackson-bingo
Card Number: 107
Square: Soulmates AU
Stiles and Peter had been dating for three years and had been engaged for two years when they had their biggest fight. The more time they spent together the deeper their bond went, and the fight put all of their hard work at risk.
An older woman, perhaps in her mid to late forties smiles at him. Then her smile shifts as she seems to stare around him rather than at him. “Good gracious child. Who did this to you?” Her tone makes him shudder as if he’s done something wrong, but Stiles doesn’t know what he could have possibly done in the span of a few minutes to incur such a steely tone.
@steter-stackson-bingo
Card Number: 107
Square: “Peter? Peter, what are you doing here? How are you here?”
Title: Hale Law Office
Fandom: Teen Wolf
Pairing: Steter
Rating: Explicit
Word Count: 1139
Warnings: Pack Alpha Peter Hale, Mage Stiles Stilinski Lawyer Peter Hale, Porn with Feelings, Office Sex, Suit Kink. no beta we die like men, Alternate Universe
Summary: “The case of the Hale Fire came to court, and Peter is the lead attorney,” Derek replied.
Created for @anyfandomaubingo / Square(s) Filled: Office AU
@steter-stackson-bingo - Casual Kink
Warnings/tags: No warnings, Merlin fusion, Lawyer Jackson, Alternate Universe, Playboy Jackson, Magical Stiles, Reincarnation, Getting Together, Love Square, Other tags to be added
Summery: Stiles casts a spell with unforeseen results.
Link to chapter: https://archiveofourown.org/works/47399362/chapters/120281677
Link to beginning of fic: https://archiveofourown.org/works/47399362/chapters/119439643#workskin
@steter-stackson-bingo card number 105, square: Red String of Fate
