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Derek Hale never questioned Stiles' decision not to accept his mating bite: after all his mate wasn't one of the meek, submissive omegas of old. Little did he guess that his asshat Uncle Peter was right when he warned Derek the decision would make his life very, very complicated.
A romantic dinner at the Hales.
T’was the night before X-mas, and Stiles was nestled snug in his bed, visions of curly fries dancing in his head, when he wakes to find a certain creeper wolf sitting at his desk. Staring at him. While he sleeps.
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