Work Text:
Teen Wolf || Steter || Teen Wolf || Wolves and Wine || Teen Wolf || Steter || Teen Wolf
Title: Wolves and Wine – Writer's Pride Month Bingo 2026
TW Disclaimer: All rights reserved to Jeff Davis and MTV. This fanfiction on the other hand is entirely mine. No money is made with this, though reviews are more than welcomed.
Tags: m/m, Canon Divergence, fluff, f/f, m/f
Main Pairing: Peter/Stiles
Side Pairings: Boyd/Erica, Malia/Kira
Teen Wolf Characters: Mieczysław 'Stiles' Stilinski, Peter Hale, Kira Yukimura, Derek Hale, Cora Hale, Laura Hale, Malia Tate, Erica Reyes, Vernon Boyd, Isaac Lahey
Original Character: Deryn Braddock
Writer’s Pride Month Bingo 2026 Prompt: club
Summary: To celebrate graduation, Stiles and Kira are going to Italy together. They’re staying at a cute, family-owned vineyard. Neither of them expected to find love there too.
Wolves and Wine
Writer's Pride Month Bingo 2026
The day the Hale House burned down was Deryn’s greatest nightmare. He’d always known his sister had chosen a dangerous life, becoming the Emissary of a werewolf pack, moving to the states, getting married to the Alpha of a pack. In the pit of his stomach, Deryn had known this would lead to disaster, even as he smiled at his sister on her wedding. He knew how much she loved that wolf. And their three children, every time Deryn got to hold one of his niblings for the first time, he thought he was wrong after all. That things were working out. Talia. Peter. Aaron. They were perfect. Energetic, beautiful, perfect children.
Talia got married, had children of her own. Aaron got married, had children of his own. Peter may not have gotten married but he too had a daughter. And Deryn got to meet them, saw them, held them. They were all perfect and beautiful and Deryn thought he was wrong.
And then the Hale House burned down. Talia and her husband, Aaron, his wife and both their children, they died and burned, alongside Deryn’s sister Dalia. He wasn’t the youngest anymore, the journey from Italy to California was long and exhausting, but he got on the first flight when he heard about the fire. Hours later, he finally got to step up to Peter’s hospital bed.
“Oh, bambino,” Deryn whispered, his voice shaky.
The majority of Peter’s body was wrapped up in bandages and what skin he could see was burned too. The doctor had said Peter was in a coma. Deryn hadn’t known werewolves could be in a coma. All Dalia had told him about werewolves and their healing, he had thought they’d be alright before things could get that bad. The flight from Tuscany to LA had taken twenty four hours, with a stop too. Over a day since he had learned of his family’s fate. And yet Peter wasn’t healing.
“T… They don’t know when he’ll wake up,” Laura’s voice was small and scared.
Deryn looked up from Peter, looked at his grand-niece. She hadn’t been home, had been out to pick up Derek from basketball practice. Before he had been burned too badly, Peter had managed to get his own daughter Malia and Talia’s youngest Cora out of the basement. And then the structure became too unstable, burying all other Hales inside. Malia and Cora had ran fast and far to get help. Deryn knew all of that, had spent hours on the phone with Laura.
She was barely eighteen. Bound to move to New York this fall for college. Julliard. The entire family had been so proud of her for it. Talia had complained about it, about her moving all the way across country, the Alpha in her wanting her pup close, but the mom in her was incredibly proud and wanted for her daughter to make her own path. A young woman. A young adult. Yet when Deryn looked at the girl now, she seemed small and scared and so unfathomably young.
“It’s going to be alright, bambina,” Deryn promised, pulling her into a hug.
“H… How? They’re dead,” Laura choked on a sob as she buried herself in his chest. “Mom and dad and grandma a… and uncle Aaron and aunt Fiona and… god… Sloan a… a… and Jason…”
Her knees buckled and if he were a younger man, he would have been able to hold her upright. Instead, he slowly went down with her until they were sitting on the floor beside Peter’s bed, Laura’s sobs and the machines the only sounds in the room. In the eyes of the law, she may be an adult now, would be settled with having to take care of her younger siblings probably, but in the eyes of her great-uncle, she was just a child herself. A child who had just lost everything.
“We will figure it out together,” Deryn promised, brushing his fingers through her hair. “Are Derek, Cora and Malia alright? Physically, I mean.”
“Y… Yeah,” Laura nodded weakly. “Yes. They are. We are.”
“Good,” Deryn pressed a kiss to her head before he carefully got up again. “I have booked a hotel for us all. We will stay there until the doctors declare Peter stable for transport. Until the house will be cleared for us to see it, to… to see what is salvageable. And until our family is buried.”
“And after?” Laura asked in a small voice. “What comes after?”
“After, you’re coming home with me. The villa is big enough for all of us. We will take care of Peter together, I will get you the help you need and then we rebuild. Together.”
/break\
Peter stood on the balcony of his office, the sun warming his skin, the wind rustling his hair as he inhaled deeply. The air out here was always so fresh. The birds, the endless sky, the stretch of vines beneath. The sound of his family puttering around. Malia and Cora were out gathering vines with their three employees, Boyd, Erica and Isaac. Derek was pitching a new design to Deryn, who was not the biggest fan of change while simultaneously wanting to support Derek’s arts.
“A wolf under an oak tree,” Deryn sounded skeptical. “This is wine, bambino.”
“I know. I just… It’s now a werewolf run vineyard. And I figured, the oak tree for grandma…”
The mention of his sister had Deryn soften. “It’s a very pretty design. Why don’t you make a mock-up and we talk about it at dinner with the family?”
Derek perked up at that and nodded before running off. Laura was at college in Florence, getting a business degree. Peter knew it wasn’t what she had planned for herself, years ago. But few people got the career they dreamed of as little children and he liked to think that this wasn’t just obligation but a change in her path that had occurred naturally, that her goals had changed with the way their lives had been changed. After settling in at the family vineyard, Laura started helping out, mostly so she wouldn’t go out of her mind with worry, and with time, she got more invested. By the time Peter woke up from his coma, she had already finished her Bachelor’s degree.
“How are you feeling, bambino?”
The door closed behind Deryn as the old man walked over to join Peter on the balcony. He smiled at Peter with the same sky-blue eyes as Peter’s – as Peter’s mom’s. Sometimes, it hurt to look at his uncle, because the loss of his mother hurt all the harder. Everything was still painfully fresh for Peter, he had only recently woken up from his coma. Still had some scarring that needed healing.
“Overwhelmed,” Peter admitted softly, returning his attention to the vineyard.
Deryn hummed softly and rested a hand on Peter’s back as he came to stand next to him. It hadn’t been that long since Peter woke up. Everything had changed. The memories of the fire were still so fresh in his mind, he was still in the fresh stage of grief. Everyone around him had already gone through all stages of grief, some of them even multiple times.
Malia and Cora had settled into high school, were by now practically fluent in Italian. They’d been ten year old kids who only parroted some words and phrases from Peter and Talia every now and again. Now they were sixteen, talking about college already. Derek was all grown up, working at the vineyard while also getting an art degree, wanting to become a graphic designer. Laura’s business degree was meant to prepare her to help Deryn lead the vineyard. Everyone had found their place here, had made a home here, while Peter still woke up disoriented in his new room.
“There’s no right timeline for healing,” Deryn noted. “Take your time. We will all be here for you, whatever you need. You’re not alone, Peter. You got your family, your pack.”
Peter gave a brief, shaky nod and shot his uncle a look. “Thank you for that. Laura… She was so young, she took to the training from Talia, but she should have been older, had more time, and with… with the… the loss. The broken pack-bonds. I… I’m glad she had a stable adult in her life to take the burden from her, to help her navigate all of this.”
“I know,” Deryn smiled thinly. “But she is a strong and clever girl. She’s a Braddock, we’re fighters. You will be alright too, Peter. You just need time and support.”
Peter smiled at that. The Hale blood had always been strong in them, the old werewolf line. Sometimes, he forgot all the traits he had from his mother’s side of the family. Her stubbornness was only one of the qualities she’d passed on to him.
“Yes,” Peter took a deep breath. “We’ll be fine. As a pack.”
/break\
Graduation came and went and with it, Stiles and Kira left. There wasn’t really a concrete plan. They just needed to get out of Beacon Hills, after everything with Theo and the Dread Doctors and Kira struggling to control her fox and both of them losing their Alpha’s trust. It was time to get out. They endured the last couple months before graduation and the moment they had their diplomas, they packed up and left together.
They’d decided together where to go. Italy, because they’d been arguing while eating pizza. Wine country because hey by European standards, they were long since old enough to have alcohol now, so why not. So Stiles had googled vineyards with hotels and he came across one that charmed him with its logo. A wolf laying under an oak tree. It was beautiful, intricate, the tree’s roots and branches twisting into Celtic knots. The da Patta Family Vineyard was located in Lucca, which sounded good enough, half an hour from the beach too, so it really had everything.
“Okay,” Stiles huffed as he hauled his suitcase out of their rental car. “We will drink so much wine, we will eat so much pizza, we will tan at the beach and swim and we will pick up cute Italians. There will be no supernatural disasters, no pain, no trauma. Only fun.”
“Only fun,” Kira nodded and smiled at him.
“Hello and welcome to the da Patta Family Vineyard. My name’s Boyd, I work here. Let me help you guys with your luggage.”
Both of them turned toward the tall, broad guy who approached them with a smile. Stiles nodded and readily left him to deal with the suitcase because it was heavy. Next to Boyd stood a blonde with bouncy girls and red-painted lips, smiling at him.
“Hi, Erica. Let me show you inside and to your room. You’re the Stilinski-Yukimura couple?”
“Nope,” Stiles wrinkled his nose. “I mean, I am Stiles. Stilinski. And she’s Kira Yukimura. But we are not a couple. We are here to have fun and meet hot Italians in our area. Separately.”
“Heard,” Erica shot him a mischievous grin. “You picked the right place then. Our club, the Lupercalia, is a big draw. You’re bound to have a good time with us.”
She winked at him and Stiles nodded pleased. A good time was exactly what him and Kira needed. Erica led the way upstairs and showed them an absolutely stunning double-room, with a gorgeous view over the vineyard. Stiles grinned excited as he looked out at the view.
“We got an in house restaurant, serving our own wines and home cooked meals after the recipes of Nonna Tizia,” Erica announced. “Boyd here is our cook and he is good.”
“Pizza sounds good,” Kira turned to look at Stiles. “How about we unpack later? Food first?”
“A woman after my own heart,” Stiles nodded. “If you weren’t gay, we would be married.”
Kira snorted at that and the two followed the employees back out and downstairs. The whole building was so rustic and charming, it showed that it was old but had also been recently renovated in ways that kept that original charm. Pictures on the walls of landscape paintings of the sea and the vineyard, but also some more modern-looking pictures. Stiles and Kira took a small table with a window view and immediately leaned over the menus.
“Hello, I’m Cora, I’ll be your waitress. Can I recommend today’s special to you? We have gnocchi a la nonna, as well as fresh tiramisu.”
Stiles looked up at the brunette young woman in front of them, then to Kira. “How about we share the gnocchi and a pizza? Because I really want pizza but gnocchi also sounds good.”
“And the tiramisu after,” Kira grinned and nodded.
“Would you like to pair a wine with that?” Cora asked.
Stiles and Kira exchanged a long look before Cora had mercy and waved a colleague of hers over. He was handsome, with sharp cheekbones and blonde curls, smiling professionally at them.
“I’m Isaac, I’m a sommelier,” he offered. “Would you like some advise on the wine?”
“Oh. Sommelier. I learned about that on Top Chef,” Stiles blinked and looked at Kira who nodded before he returned his attention to Isaac. “Honestly? Just, uh, do your thing? We know truly nothing about wine. At all. Pair us up with our best match.”
Isaac grinned a little. “We also have wine tastings, if you’re interested in exploring the different flavor profiles to see what fits your pallet the best. We have one tomorrow at noon.”
“Sounds awesome, sign us up,” Stiles grinned and gave a thumbs up.
Definite perk of a vacation on a vineyard: Wine tasting without having to travel anywhere. It didn’t take long for Isaac to return to them with a bottle of wine and fill their glasses. They were three sips into their wines when an elderly man approached them. Stiles had the American son of law enforcement gut reaction to feel guilty about the wine before he remembered that he was nineteen and perfectly legal to drink wine in Italy.
“Hello,” the man smiled at them. “I’m Deryn Braddock, the owner of the vineyard. I always like to welcome our guests personally. If you have any issues or requests, please do not hesitate to ask.”
Stiles returned the man’s smile and shook his hand when offered before his eyes widened. “Oh, that’s why the oak.”
“I’m sorry,” Deryn frowned confused.
“Braddock. It means ‘broad oak’. I thought an oak tree was a peculiar choice for a vineyard,” Stiles grinned. “But it ties your name into the family business, then.”
Deryn’s eyes softened as he nodded. “Yes, it does. The vineyard, it has been in my mother’s family for generations before I took over.”
“That’s lovely,” Kira smiled. “We’ve been really looking forward to our stay here, it is such a beautiful place.”
“Thank you,” Deryn nodded. “My family and I are working hard to keep it that way.”
Stiles kept grinning even as the wheels in his mind were spinning. His gaze wandered through the restaurant but he kept quiet until him and Kira were back in their room. The kitsune sighed contently and collapsed onto her bed.
“That food was so—o good,” Kira groaned.
“I think this vineyard is owned by werewolves.”
Kira frowned and then slowly sat up to stare at him. “No. You said no supernatural messes! Normal vacation! Fun!”
Stiles lifted both his hands defensively. “I kno—ow! But the owner’s last name, Braddock. I know its meaning because I studied Emissary lines. Like, Deaton and Morrell being from a family of Emissaries. The Braddock line is a very noteworthy one too, the latest Emissary had been Dalia Braddock, Emissary of the Hale Pack before Deaton took over. So, between that and the wolf under the oak tree in the design – which, I should have been wary about that from the get-go, instead of thinking ‘oh, pretty wolf’.”
Stiles heaved a sigh and collapsed onto the bed right next to Kira. She let herself fall backward too, so both were laying side by side, staring up at the ceiling in silence.
“What do we do now?” Kira asked in a soft voice.
“The food was really good. And so was the wine. And the view. And maybe this is partially the wine talking, but I kinda wanna stay. It’s really pretty here and we won’t get a refund of our money if we bail now and we both don’t exactly have enough savings to blow it and find a new place to stay,” Stiles frowned. “I say we stay, until the wolves become a problem or drag us into trouble.”
“Okay,” Kira nodded, seeming satisfied. “I’m gonna have a long jet-leg nap now.”
/break\
Peter noticed them first because they were the most uncoordinated people in the club. It was somewhat charming, because while completely lacking rhythm, they were also radiating fun. They were enjoying themselves to the fullest. It put a mild smile on his lips to watch the flailing limbs. Even in their uncoordinated state, there was a certain enchantment to the boy. The sway of his hips, the smile on his lips. Peter was drawn in.
“Those are the new guests,” Boyd supplied next to him. “Stiles and Kira.”
Peter hummed curiously. So he would be seeing the pretty boy again outside of his club too. Delightful. Boyd heaved a sigh and emptied his beer, shooting Peter a long look.
“Don’t sleep with the guests. You know your uncle doesn’t like that,” Boyd requested.
“Deryn doesn’t have to know,” Peter made a dismissive gesture, smiling.
Boyd sighed even deeper, looking at Peter with the gaze of someone who had known Peter long enough to be real tired of his bullshit. The smile split Peter’s face at that. The three teenagers had joined the pack back when Peter had been in his coma. Over the past two years, they had really come into the pack. As much as Peter had been against it, set to never grow attached to anyone again, not risking to lose anyone else, he had still grown attached after all. Erica was his favorite, she was a vicious vixen after his own heart and he had happily taken to teaching her the trade of a Left Hand. Her mate Boyd was quiet and smart. Or, at least quiet compared to the very temperamental and loud rest of their pack.
“There you are, babe,” Erica wrapped her arms around Boyd’s back from behind. “Come and dance with me? Pretty please? I like the new guests, they’re fun. Let’s have some fun with them.”
“Oh, Peter would like to have some fun with one of them,” Boyd drawled.
Erica tilted her head curiously and shot Peter a broad grin. She just got him. Peter smiled and lifted his glass before watching the mated pair walk onto the dance-floor. Boyd wrapped his arms around her waist and swayed slowly, while Erica seemed to be moving with every part of her body.
“Do you happen to know if they’re a couple?” Peter asked, his gaze having wandered to the guests.
He didn’t have to look away from the mesmerizing boy to know his daughter had taken the vacant seat next to him. She drank Boyd’s deserted beer before gracing him with a grunt and a nudge.
“I really hope not because she keeps smiling and blushing at me.”
Peter snorted and turned toward his daughter after all. Her eyes were on Kira and she looked as intrigued as Peter must have had when looking at Stiles. Smiling amused, Peter leaned back.
“I think I feel like dancing,” Peter got up. “Join me on the dance-floor? We could split them up?”
Malia snorted but she followed him anyway. They circled the dancing duo from either side before zeroing in properly. Peter laid a leisure arm around Stiles’ shoulder, drawing his attention and very gently pulling him away from his dance partner. Allowing him to brush Peter off or break free if he’d want. The boy looked at him with wide, beautiful whiskey-colored eyes, his pupils blowing up as he took Peter in and his scent sweetening like honey with want.
“Buona sera, tesorino,” Peter whispered with a smile. “Care to dance?”
Stiles’ cheeks lit up at the Italian and a pink tongue darted out to wet full, tempting lips. Peter watched the movement completely transfixed. The boy wrapped one of his own arms around Peter’s shoulder, pulling himself closer against the wolf.
“My friend…” Stiles noted belatedly, turning toward Kira.
“My daughter is taking care of her,” Peter assured him with a charming smile.
“Daughter,” Stiles echoed, looking at Malia. “Strong genes. Good genes.”
Peter laughed at that and rested his other hand on Stiles’ hip, pulling the boy some closer still, until he could feel the heat radiating off Stiles, until he felt like he was drowning in Stiles’ scent. It was truly intoxicating, Peter wanted to roll around in it. The two danced half the night away and Peter could barely look away from the boy. He didn’t get to take Stiles to bed, but Peter was a patient man, he liked to play with his food before devouring it whole and something told him that Stiles would absolutely be worth the wait.
/break\
“I don’t know if more wine is the solution to the hangover,” Kira pointed out with a yawn.
“It’s a wine tasting. We’re not getting wasted on it,” Stiles pointed out. “I’ve always wanted to do one of those. There are so many types. Like, how can a drink be dry, right? Dry wine. Why. And does the color really make that much difference in taste? But I’m not buying like six bottles of wine to try and then have to pour half of them down the drain.”
“Fair,” Kira nodded as they made their way downstairs to the bar.
The club was in another building, still on the vineyard grounds though, but the main building had a bar on the ground floor. Boyd was behind the bar, wearing suspenders and a smile. Stiles had seen him dance with Erica last night and those two seemed very intimately familiar with each other. He’d also had a lot of fun talking to Erica though, she seemed kind of awesome.
“Isaac signed you two up for a wine tasting,” Boyd nodded at them.
“Yepp! What’s the point of staying at a vineyard and not trying all the wines?” Stiles grinned.
Boyd snorted but he put two glasses in front of them and got a bottle of wine out. There were five other guests of the hotel gathered along the bar as Isaac joined them and talked about sweetness and body and whatnot, while Boyd poured the glasses. Six wines in, Stiles’ wet dream of a dance-partner from last night joined them. He sat down next to Stiles, smiling charmingly.
“He—ey,” Stiles subconsciously leaned closer to Peter. “I was hoping to see you again. Are you also a guest here? Because then we could. Definitely. See each other again?”
“I’m not a guest,” Peter shook his head and Stiles deflated a little. “I’m one of the owners. Peter Hale, Deryn is my uncle. So you will… definitely… see me again.”
He flashed a charming but slightly predatory smile. Even with his wine-warmed brain did Stiles recognize that name though. Braddock, Emissary of the Hale Pack. Peter Hale. The owners of this vineyard weren’t just werewolves, they were werewolves from Beacon Hills. How had Stiles and Kira flown all the way to Italy to escape that hellhole just to find others who had escaped Beacon Hills? But then, looking at Peter, it did give him some hope. He knew about the fire, had read all about it when the Argents had come to town. He’d seen what Peter Hale had looked like after the fire, knew how many had died. Yet Peter? This flirtatious, gorgeous and confident man? Clearly getting away had done the Hales a world of good. But that had his mind stuck on something else.
“Kate’s dead,” Stiles blurted out, and he blamed the wine on his lack of everything, really.
Peter’s face turned more guarded at that, the smile a polite mask now than a genuine one. “I’m afraid I don’t know who that is, tesorino. But I’m sorry for your loss.”
“Kate. Kate Argent,” Stiles’ voice softened and he leaned more into Peter’s space, resting a hand on the wolf’s arm. “The woman who burned your family alive. She’s dead.”
“What,” Peter’s voice was barely controlled and Stiles was fairly sure his blue eyes turned just this shade of unnatural. “Would you know about any of that?”
Stiles got up, not letting go of Peter’s arm. “Walk with me? Let’s talk.”
It took Peter a moment, and he exchanged a look with both Boyd and Isaac before he nodded and followed Stiles. The next two hours were the closest thing to therapy that Stiles had ever gotten as he relayed everything that had happened with the Argents in Beacon Hills.
/break\
When Peter had first seen Stiles on the dance-floor, he’d thought the boy would make for a nice distraction for a night. After hours of dancing, Peter knew he wanted. It was only the next day, when Stiles told him about the return of the Argents to Beacon Hills and their demise at the hands of Stiles and his former pack, that Peter knew he needed.
Stiles and Kira had come to Lucca for the same reason as the Hales. To get away. To flee from trauma, violence and loss. But to them, Lucca was only supposed to be a break. A month long vacation, followed by traveling through Europe for the rest of the gap year. The year passed and the two never left. They gradually extended their stay, another week, then another week, and before Peter even realized, a whole year was up and it felt like Stiles and Kira had always been here.
Stiles and Peter had fallen into bed during the second week of their stay at the vineyard. They’d had their first date two days later, after Deryn had practically pulled Peter by the ear, berating him for his poor manners. Falling in love with Stiles had been frighteningly easy.
“Buongiorno, tesorino,” Peter murmured, voice rough with sleep.
He’d walked out onto his balcony, where Stiles was curled together on a chair, nursing a coffee. He leaned down to kiss Stiles’ cheek, the boy readily tilting his head to brush their cheeks against each other. Pulling up a chair next to Stiles, Peter sat down and laid one arm around his lover’s waist. Stiles was watching the backyard, where Malia and Kira were laughing together.
“I talked to Kira,” Stiles whispered into his coffee, not looking away from the two girls. “We… We came here for a distraction. We didn’t expect a fresh start. Definitely not love.”
“Love,” Peter repeated, the word still making him feel in awe.
“Yes, idiot wolf,” Stiles huffed and turned to glare at him. “Love.”
“I love you too, sweetheart, you know that, right?” Peter whispered, pressing a kiss to Stiles’ cheek.
“Yeah,” Stiles’ voice was a little shaky and he leaned further into Peter. “I know. That’s… We decided to stay. If you guys will have us. This… has become home. The plan was to move around, to explore. Instead, we… grew roots. Found home.”
Peter’s grasp on Stiles tightened. Not painfully so, but possessively. Like he was holding something beautiful and precious he never expected to have. Which was quite accurate. Peter rested his chin on Stiles’ shoulder, his gaze softening as he watched his daughter pull Kira into a kiss.
“You two were meant to come here,” Peter whispered. “To bring us peace of mind. And to bring me the love I never thought I’d find. Thank you, for staying. For choosing me.”
“Always,” Stiles pressed a kiss to Peter’s cheek. “I’ll always choose you.”
~*~ The End ~*~