Work Text:
Steter || Teen Wolf || Steter || Small and Helpless, Warm and Safe || Steter || Teen Wolf || Steter
Title: Small and Helpless, Warm and Safe – Friday Ficlets Series
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, hurt/comfort, fluff
Main Pairing: Peter/Stiles
Teen Wolf Characters: Mieczysław 'Stiles' Stilinski, Peter Hale
Summary: Pack meetings were incredibly boring and Peter usually kept himself entertained by watching Stiles. Until he sees Stiles reblog something very interesting on tumblr that gives Peter an idea.
Small and Helpless, Warm and Safe
Friday Ficlets Series
Pack meetings were designed to torment Peter. Seeing Derek struggle his way through being Alpha had been entertaining at first, but the fun had worn off (partially also due to Derek improving as an Alpha. There was less entertaining fumbling and helpless growling happening nowadays).
It wasn't even that Peter disliked the whole pack, contrary to popular belief. Boyd was a quiet presence that Peter thought was impossible to resent. Erica was his favorite among the pups, the girl was wicked, knew how to use her charms and she was just the right edge of mean. Perhaps he was more open to them because he had been the one to go into the woods with Stiles to track them down and bring them back, after the whole Gerard take-down that had gone so horribly South.
Then there was the rest of the pack though. Isaac was too angsty and sad, he gave Peter the vibes of a Victorian orphan and even he found it impossible to be mean to the pup, which was agitating. Jackson had too much arrogant pretty boy energy for Peter's liking. Scott was… Scott. Too self-righteous, too naive, too exhausting to be around. The Argent girl, whom Peter would prefer not to be a part of their pack. And Lydia, who hated Peter and would not hesitate to stab him if given even the slightest provocation, which meant Peter couldn't have a lot of fun around her.
The majority of the pack were exhausting on their own, but what made pack meetings so torturous were the combinations. Scott and Allison, Jackson and Lydia, even Boyd and Erica could be taxing when they got too lovey-dovey. Mated pairs were a special kind of torture. And even if not obnoxious by their romantic couplings, there were the explosive combinations such as Jackson ad Scott, or Allison and Boyd and Erica, who were still justifiably angry at the huntress who had kidnapped them to be tortured by her grandfather. Fighting, growling, claws and wicked words. It had been entertaining for only a few meetings, before it became repetitive and annoying.
There was only one truly bright spot during these meetings and that was their clever little pack human. Stiles, with his sharp mind, sarcastic wit, delightful snarky commentary, helpful solutions, quick plans, pretty, pretty doe-eyes, tempting pink bow-shaped lips and tight little ass. There was no aspect of Stiles that wasn't pure temptation for Peter, physically and intellectually.
Stiles was Scott's one redeeming quality – if not for Scott, then Stiles would not have come into Peter's life, so on that account alone, Peter tolerated Scott (also because Stiles loved the boy dearly, even though Peter had yet to figure out why, so hurting Scott would hurt Stiles and after the disaster with Lydia, Peter had chosen to not do that again. Stiles could hold a mean grudge when those he loved were hurt and Peter much preferred the boy on his side). Stiles was the only one able to get between Scott and Jackson, while Lydia and Allison could appease them respectively, Stiles had proven very good at putting himself between them to end a fight. It was lovely to see Stiles happy and content when he'd snuggle up to Boyd and Erica, or bond with Isaac. Peter's favorite part was, for certain, whenever Stiles stood up to their Alpha and argued Derek into submission on whatever idiotic plan Derek had cooked up. Nothing more gorgeous than watching that vicious little thing keep an Alpha werewolf on his toes and fight Derek into agreeing with him. Peter wanted to kiss him breathless on the spot every time and someone should really praise him for the restraint he'd shown by not bending Stiles over the nearest flat surface during a pack meeting for a variety of reasons – brilliance, snark, making the lesser members of the pack look like the fools they were.
Today was no such day. Stiles wasn't engaged with Boyd and Erica or Isaac, he wasn't even keeping Scott occupied, he wasn't having a battle of wits with Lydia, he wasn't giving Derek lip, he wasn't keeping Scott and Jackson well-behaved. Today was a Quiet Stiles Day. Peter, and the rest of the pack, hated Quiet Stiles Days. Sometimes, those days were related to Gerard and the basement, but those days, Stiles would quietly seek out Boyd and Erica more.
Other times, it was about the sheriff. It took Peter some to figure it out, but in the end he had. Guilt, usually. About lying, about the sheriff temporarily losing his job when Stiles and Scott had kidnapped Jackson (a story Peter had listened to with utter bafflement and an odd sense of pride), other guilt that Peter couldn't decipher yet. Those were the toughest, because Stiles would isolate himself from everyone in the pack, curl together alone on a chair and not engage much at all.
There was a third category, when Stiles would be quiet for reasons Peter couldn't pinpoint yet. Stiles would seek out Scott then. It drove Peter wild not to know, but those were the days he was the kindest to Scott, because he appreciated the boy providing Stiles with the comfort he needed.
Today was the second type of Quiet Stiles Day and Peter loathed them the most. Even if he didn't know the cause of the third type, at least Stiles could be found seeking comfort during them. This? When Stiles felt guilty about his relationship with his father, he didn't allow himself comfort.
So while the rest of the pack prattled on about whatever trivial thing this meeting was about, Stiles sat at the bottom of the spiral staircase, scrolling through his phone. These days always affected the rest of the pack too. With Stiles unmotivated to step in, Jackson and Scott usually found themselves in a tense truce, sticking to their girlfriends instead. Lydia would speak up against Derek's stupider ideas, while Boyd, Erica and Isaac sat curled together on the couch. And Peter tuned them all out.
Most of the things Peter knew about social media, he had learned from watching Stiles and the betas on their phones. All his knowledge of memes and the like came from them. Peter sat at the top of the staircase, as he always did, but his eyes were on Stiles' screen, watching what the boy was doing. GIF sets of dehydrated shirtless actors, beautiful and vaguely to explicitly erotic art, silly things that Peter had learned would be classified as 'shitposts'. Some, Stiles would like, others he would reblog. It was less entertaining than watching Stiles' sharp tongue battle, but still Peter read along and judged all things he saw quietly to himself. Until one post really caught his attention.
Peter pursed his lips in amusement as he read the post. And then he blinked slowly because Stiles' scent changed from the sad, self-loathing misery to something soft, hopeful and filled with longing. Stiles pressed the like button and then hit reblog, tagging it with 'hard same OP'. How interesting.
The rest of the pack meeting seemed to drag on forever, until they finally decided on a strategy – Isaac, Allison and Lydia were headed to the book store and grocery store to get books and ingredients they'd need, while Boyd, Erica, Jackson and Derek were splitting up for two people patrol, Scott would go to check in with Deaton for information. Peter had volunteered himself and Stiles for research with the books they already had. Stiles had hummed a soft confirmation.
"Up you go, darling, time for research," Peter prompted lightly once everyone else had left.
Stiles slipped his phone into his pocket and got up, hunched over a little, head turned down. Peter loathed seeing his boy this subdued. Tilting his head, Peter decided to cheer Stiles up a little. Either he would get an indignant squeal from Stiles, or a lecture on being such a 'Creeperwolf' (Peter prided himself on the name). Hopefully, he'd break Stiles out of his funk.
Walking around the boy, Peter flexed his hands to unsheathe his claws. Flashing his eyes, Peter straightened up to his full height and though Stiles and him were vaguely the same height, if Stiles stood this hunched over while Peter straightened up, there was a significant difference between them. A soft growl build up in his chest and he curled two clawed fingers under Stiles' chin to tilt his head up so the boy would look at him. Wide, pretty doe-eyes stared at Peter in confusion. The growl grew louder when Peter wrapped his other hand around Stiles' hip, resting the ball of his hand just against the boy's hipbone and curling his fingers around his narrow waist, spread out so his hand was covering as much ground as it could. Now that he had Stiles' undivided attention, did Peter drop his fingers from Stiles' chin to grab the boy's other hip. His hold was firm and tight.
"What was that about clawed hands on your waist making you feel small and helpless, darling?"
Peter meant to tease his boy, but when he growled those words into Stiles' ear, he got a reaction he had not been prepared for at all. A whimper was ripped from Stiles' throat, possibly the neediest and most broken sound Peter had ever heard. It was so beautiful, it made the wolf crave more. More of that sound and more sounds in general, he needed to hear what else kind of noises his boy could make, what Peter had to do to get them. The whimper wasn't the only reaction he got though. Stiles near instinctively bared his throat to Peter, the pale neck stretched so temptingly wide.
He was only a wolf, and only a man, there was only so much temptation he could battle. This? This was too much. Leaning in, he buried his face in that beautifully offered neck, rubbing his nose down along it, his lips brushing over soft skin and he couldn't help but open his mouth ever so slightly, allowing his fangs to teasingly grace that alluring skin. Not bite, not even scratch, but still, pressure enough to draw another whimper from his boy. And this time, Stiles' knees gave in with it. Peter's hands on his waist were the only thing keeping Stiles upright.
He reached up, resting his hands on Peter's chest and for a moment, Peter feared his boy would push him away. The fingers curled together, clawing into the expensive fabric of Peter's shirt and trying to pull himself closer. The wolf allowed it, drawing his boy close against his chest until they stood flush against each other. His face remained in the crook of Stiles' neck, rubbing and scent-marking his boy. The growl turned more into a pleased purr.
"There's a good boy," Peter praised him softly.
For bearing his neck, for not pushing Peter away, for being oh-so sweet and delicious. Another whimper was his reward for the praise and Peter started purring louder. Stiles tilted his head forward, allowing his forehead to hit Peter's shoulder, fully giving himself to the wolf.
"You're so good for me, little one," Peter whispered, pressing a kiss just beneath Stiles' ear. "Always so strong and so clever, it's okay to let go too. You don't always have to be strong and have all the answers, darling. It's okay to be helpless, just let me keep you safe, mh?"
A drawn out whine and Stiles was genuinely burying himself into Peter's chest, like he was trying to get as much contact as he could. In a split-second decision did Peter lift Stiles up, still holding him by the waist. The boy gave a breathy, surprised gasp and then near naturally wrapped his legs around Peter's waist. It was hard to tell which one of them was more surprised by that.
"Peter-" Stiles sucked in a breath, looking absolutely desperate.
"Let me give you what you need," Peter offered, nosing Stiles' jawline. "I'll give you anything you need, you don't have to be ashamed to ask for it or feel like you don't deserve it, sweetheart."
For a moment, it felt like time was frozen. Stiles stared down at him in wonder and with a little bit of doubt that left the longer he looked at Peter. And then, all of a sudden, Stiles came into motion again, diving forward and smashing their lips together in a heated kiss. Even while kissing Stiles, Peter carried his boy upstairs to his room, where he spent the next two hours just holding Stiles. Keeping him safe and warm, while Stiles allowed himself to be vulnerable with his wolf.
~*~ The End ~*~