IMAGINES ⌲ stiles stilinski

what happened? (au)

AU PROMPT: The past few years haven't been easy for Stiles and he's tired of it. He's taken it upon himself to become a hunter and question anything and anyone who enters Beacon Hills. But what happens when a ghost from the past returns to Beacon Hills?

THIRD PERSON

      Routinely, he leaned against his Jeep, busying himself with the barrel of the shotgun. It was around 8:30, his usual time to come out and check the perimeter around the Lookout. He had yet to hear anything, any traps being set off but then again, he had only just gotten here.

   Stiles threw the cloth on the hood and cocked the shot gun, shoving shells into his jacket pocket. He held the gun with both hands, walking away, into the forest. Farther and farther, he passed staches of weapons, traps and various other items that aided him in keeping Beacon Hills one less bad supernatural away from the decimation of the population.

    Stiles froze at the sound of leaves rustling. His back collided with the nearest tree as he tuned his ears to listen closely, seeing it was coming from behind. He slowly peered around, slightly seeing a figure in the dark, crouching to the ground. Their fingers fumbled with the bear trap, nails and fingertips covered in red. Stiles narrowed his eyes, and while they were distracted, appeared from behind the tree and gently walked across the woods floor.

   The figure was invested in escaping, not seeing Stiles inch his way towards them. Until Stiles was less than five feet away, he raised his gun and pointed it downwards. And, as if their senses, had kicked in, the figure stopped. Their fingers froze and eventually, their head began to rise. This close, Stiles could see their hair, and the more they looked up, Stiles could differ their features and figure it was a girl.

   The face entirely revealed herself and their golden eyes shone through the dark moonlight. He gripped the gun tighter and was about to demand answers and begin his questioning, but her eyes dimmed and returned to their normal color.

   Their familiar color.

  Stiles almost dropped the shotgun, his body running numb for a second. He almost couldn't believe it. The girl caught, afraid and in pain, on the ground had him off guard. Something he hadn't felt in years. He had done his best, calm and collected, serious and demanding.

    Yet, here she was.

  "Well, go on. Shoot me." She spat, her hair falling next to her face as she looked back down at her screwed calf.

    Stiles was still awe-struck. She was here. How? And, turned? Since when?

   She blew away strands of hair, huffing as she glanced up at Stiles again when he said nothing.

    "Are you going to just stand there, or can you help me get out of your bear trap?" She snapped him out of his trance.

   Stiles set down the shot gun and went to work on the release, before he heard her heavily breathe out when the metal teeth released her calf. It left bloody holes and her skin ripped. She stood up and flicked her hair away from her face, looking Stiles up and down.

   The last time she saw him, he was tired, angry, hurt. Now, he was tired, angry, hurt, and built as hell. His black shirt and brown leather jacket accentuated everything and Y/N had to hit herself for not returning sooner.

    "Jesus," Y/N muttered, straightening her own jacket. "What the hell happened to you?"

   Stiles had to contain his own snarky laughter. He gave her a once over, taking in her still-beautiful features. "You."