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Summary
“I have to fuck that tree,” he tells Scott and Allison at lunch. The cafeteria is packed but Stiles doesn’t bother to keep his voice down.
“Okay,” Scott says. “Wait, what?” He’s been a little slow lately, but that’s forgivable. True Alphahood, darkness in his heart. Those things build up.
“The Nemeton,” Stiles says, rolling a tater tot around in ketchup. “I’m gonna put my dick in it.”
