Wolves vs Humans
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Rick wakes to the hazy memory of Carl crying beside his bed, Shane placing his grandmother's blue vase filled with flowers onto the bedside table and an omega peering down at him curiously, murmuring a soft, "𝘱𝘰𝘰𝘳 𝘈𝘭𝘱𝘩𝘢, 𝘐 𝘩𝘰𝘱𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘶𝘱 𝘴𝘰𝘰𝘯."
Or; the abo verse i wanted, but couldn't find, so now im the one writing it ://
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Stiles blinks hard. He can’t argue that he’s not quite all there, a little woozier than he would like, but he’s done more difficult things a lot worse off. The wolf didn’t know shit and Stiles sure as hell didn’t need him. He huffs out a little laugh into his own chest, leaning back against the armrest and chin dropped to his sternum, head lolling slightly. His eyelids are heavier than they were a minute ago. “What makes you think I wouldn’t use the opportunity to gut you? I hunt werewolves for sport, and so does everyone I have left.”
A careful claw tilts his chin up and it takes Stiles’ eyes a second to bring the face in front of him into stark relief. “You can barely keep your eyes open,” the wolf says softly, “I don’t think you have the upper hand now, human.”