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Puzzle Pieces – isthatbloodonhisshirt
Derek/Stiles
89,402 words
“Okay.” Stiles glanced at his phone, wincing at the battery being close to ten percent. It was probably time to call Scott. Turning off the flashlight, mostly to save battery and kind of freaking out over how dark it was—though the half-moon reflecting off the snow helped a bit—he opened his contacts with shaking hands and scrolled through to Scott’s name. Once he hit it, he put the phone to his ear, looking around, and froze.
The phone rang in his ear, but his eyes were locked on something big and moving through the trees.
Oh no. Oh no, no, no.
If that was a fucking bear, Stiles was fucked!
The line kept ringing and ringing, but Scott didn’t answer. Eventually his voicemail picked up and Stiles very slowly lowered the phone and hung up without looking, eyes still on the dark shape in the trees. He glanced down for only a second to turn on the flashlight function again, then lifted it ever so slowly upwards, and felt his breath freeze in his lungs.
It was a wolf.
It was a motherfucking wolf.
alternate universe, au: ski resort, au: soulmates/soulmarks, mates, misunderstandings, only one bed