hi! i’ve been looking for this fic for a while but cannot find it and was hoping you could help! it’s a spiderman and avengers fic with a title that i thought was something like that’s why his hairs so big or it’s full of secrets and it’s about peter being able to communicate with spiders thank you !
Is it this fic?
That's why his hair's so big, it's full of secrets (ao3) - Bonfirefly
harry/peter
G, 19k
Summary: “Ok, it wasn’t blackmail, exactly, I just let them know that I had some information on them that I’m sure they didn’t want getting out.”
“That’s blackmail.”
“Ok, fine, so I may have blackmailed the CEO a bit. But it’s not like I did it for anything bad!"
~~~
Peter Parker knows Everything about Everyone then makes it Everyone's problem
How about omega Peter losing his mate and going feral? Or maybe even losing his mate and baby?
It starts with him missing days at work in “grief,” taking time to just walk through the woods and “get back to nature.” He spends longer and longer outside each day, distancing himself slowly from his remaining friends and family— everything reminds him too much of what happened.
He finds himself losing large gaps of time. Heading out on a Wednesday and waking up Saturday in shorts, nested in a cave, with no memory of the past few days. The most concerning thing is… it doesn’t really bother him that much. He finds food when he needs it, and his fangs help keep away other interested parties. Besides… his new nest smells so sweet and safe…
omg annie this is such a good idea!!! Peter loses his mate first and then miscarries their pup?
and it’s just that being away from everything helps him forget and it’s not like its bad that he can’t remember things bc that means if anything more happens fo him that’s bad he just forgets it
You know, there is a suspicious lack of feral wolf child Peter (as in, raised in the wild by wild animals, not werewolf/shapeshifter) found by Tony and/or Tony’s partner and slowly being brought back to life as a human fanfics.
Just saying, I haven’t seen any fic where a wild, young Peter is freed from a bear trap by a hiking billionaire (for whatever reason he would be hiking through the woods), and nursed back to health, and grudgingly accepting these humans as part of his pack, and growling at any other humans who step into newly claimed territory (which is nothing like his woods and open space and wildlife sounds, but does have really soft surfaces to lie on, so it’s not that bad)
Really, I just wanted to mention that I have not found one fic where Peter is wild and feral but also kinda really weirdly adorable, and slowly taught how to be human again by Tony (and whoever you ship him with, or just a gen story), and maybe some really cute and funny shenanigans thrown in for good measure.
Feral!Peter needing to be calmed down by big supersoldier
Peter was breathing heavily as he stared down at the pile of bodies around him. They were probably still alive, though some might not stay that way for very long. Serves them right for entering a life of crime. The world will be better off without them.
Even with his suit on, Peter could feel that some punches, both his and theirs, had caused injuries. His ribs ached every time he took a breath, his knuckles and fingers felt slick with sweat and blood, and he knew he would have a split lip and bruising on his cheek by the next day.
Stepping away from the mess, Peter stumbled as his ankle gave out. But strong arms were there to catch him - one metal and one flesh. Peter grumbled and swatted at Bucky as he righted himself. He wasn’t in the mood to be babied.
“Leave me alone, Buck. Some of ‘em got away, I gotta go find them.” Peter flexed the fingers of his right hand and winced. He hoped Bucky didn’t notice it under his mask.
“You are done for tonight,” Bucky replied sternly, still holding onto Peter’s bicep.
Peter huffed and yanked his arm free before shooting a web at the neatest building and leaping away. Bucky sighed as he watched, trying to figure out where Peter would go next so he could follow.
The spider was still riled up. His vision blurred red around the edges as he found one of the cowards who ran off earlier. He dropped down from the roof, landing on the guy and driving him into the concrete with a gratifying crunch. The guy cried out and Peter immediately clapped a hand over his mouth.
“Shut up,” he hissed, pinching the man’s nose and keeping his mouth covered.
Peter had followed the unspoken rule of heroes never killing for a while. But now he didn’t care so much. Blood was hard to spot on his red suit, sometimes he couldn’t control his strength. He smirked behind his mask and yanked upwards, snapping the man’s neck before he could even suffocate.
‘One more,’ Peter thought to himself. He left the body there as he crawled up onto the rooftop again to begin searching.
But again, Bucky was there.
Peter growled in annoyance, a sound he so rarely made. Bucky walked over anyway and wrapped his arms securely around Peter. He squeezed until Peter made a pained sound, then loosened his hold only a little.
“You’re done,” Bucky said again.
The hug and the gentle tone eased the burning in Peter’s chest. He blinked his eyes and his vision cleared, no longer reddened. His cheek hurt every time he blinked and he knew he would have a black eye in the morning.
“Take some deep breaths.” Bucky’s voice was soft, just barely audible above the sounds of city life. Peter heard and followed the instruction, even as his ribs throbbed and throat burned.
They breathed in sync for a few minutes until Peter finally went lax in Bucky’s hold. Then Bucky shifted his hold to carry Peter instead as he headed to the stairway entrance. If he had to carry Peter all the way back home, then that was what he would do.
“I got you now, Pete. You’re safe.” Bucky kept up a low string of reassurance and comfort as he walked. Peter barely registered any of it but was thankful anyway.
By the time they made it back, Peter was ready to pass out. He was physically, mentally, and emotionally exhausted after his rampage. He didn’t even know what sparked it this time. A simple robbery, something he had stopped countless times before, triggered a rage he usually kept locked deep inside himself.
Bucky set Peter down gently on the bed before taking his suit off piece by piece. The mask came off first and Bucky sighed when he saw the cuts and bruises, immediately knowing he would find the rest of Peter’s body in a similar state.
By the time Peter was naked, Bucky knew he would need more than their bathroom first aid kit to get him properly patched up. But that could wait until the morning when the med bay opened up again. He did what he could - wiping the blood and sweat away, sticking bandaids in place, using medical glue to close the deeper wounds.
“Oh, Peter. Why do you do this to yourself?”
Peter just grunted and tried to roll over, but Bucky caught him.
“Your ribs are bruised. You need to lay flat.”
Bucky grabbed some extra pillows to tuck along both of Peter’s sides, hoping they would keep him from rolling over in the night.
“Get some rest. We’ll get you properly patched up in the morning.”
After turning off the light, Bucky laid down next to Peter with the pillows between them. He wasn’t sure what triggered these violent events and Peter never told him. All he could do was patch up the aftermath, leaving him feeling helpless.
“Thank you,” Peter mumbled, voice hoarse.
“You’re welcome,” Bucky replied easily.
Peter reached over the pillow for Bucky, who closed the distance and held his hand. Their fingers laced together and their hands rested on the pillow. They both dozed off soon after, exhausted for similar and wildly different reasons.
This Deter fic is a fill for the ‘Chained to a Wall’ on my @badthingshappenbingo card but mostly it’s a gift for @yogi-bogey-box. She always leaves the nicest comments on my stories and I wanted to write something for her. She requested some hurt/comfort, which this hopefully is, but it also got way longer than expected. Since it’s almost 7k you can read it here on AO3 or watch out for the read more.
It had been four days. Four days since Peter had been abducted, four days since Kate had taken him right from under their noses and Derek was ready to go out of his mind. He could still feel his bond to Peter, so he knew that he was alive, but that was it.
He didn’t know what Kate had done to him, in what state he was in, and it drove Derek crazy. They hadn’t been on the best of terms when Kate had taken Peter, not after everything that had happened, but they were on their way to being something again.
And now Derek had to fear every second that his bond with Peter would break, that he would lose him before holding him close.
Derek was pacing in his loft, wolf snarling under his skin at his inactivity, but he had lost Kate’s scent trail days ago and Stiles and Chris had told him to sit back and let the humans do the work for once. Derek had taken a step back, because it was his best bet to get Peter back, but he didn’t like it, and he would go insane if this went on any longer.
Just as he was thinking that, Stiles slammed the door open.
“We think we have them,” he declared, and Derek was walking out of the loft before Stiles was even done talking.
“Where?” Derek snarled, worlds curling around his fangs and Stiles had to run to keep pace with him.
“There’s a bunch of old houses one town over, one of them has a tunnel system not unlike your old one,” Stiles explained as he climbed into the Camaro after Derek had nudged him away from the jeep.
The Camaro would be faster.
“Chris and my dad are already on their way there,” he said and held on to the door for dear life when Derek hit the gas pedal.
He made it there just a few minutes after Chris and John, and when Derek entered the house, he barely spared a glance for Kate’s body on the floor. He just stopped long enough to make sure that she was really dead before he followed the sounds of a werewolf snarling to the basement.
Chris and John were standing in front of a cell, both with their weapons drawn and when Derek stepped around them to get a good view, his breath froze in his chest.
Peter was chained to a wall, collar around his neck and shackles around his right wrist and ankle, but he was throwing his whole weight into them, trying to get to them. There was blood all over him, and Derek could see more than one wound that was still open and not healing like it should be. When he tried to look Peter in the eye, Derek realized that Peter was almost completely feral.
There was no recognition in his eyes, and it seemed like he only wanted to hurt them.
Peter threw himself forward when Stiles entered the basement too, and Derek cringed at the way the shackles dug into his skin, blood welling up around them, but Peter didn’t even notice. He was snarling and snapping, a constant growl coming from him, and it caused Stiles to take a step back.
“So, what’s going on there?” he carefully asked and stepped around his dad to get a better look, but he kept behind them.
“He’s feral,” Chris said with a side glance at Derek.
“What are we going to do?” John asked but Chris hesitated with his answer.
“There’s not much we can do,” he eventually said, after Stiles repeated the question and Derek tensed.
He wouldn’t allow this.
“You’re not going to kill him!” he decisively said.
“Derek, he’s gone. Look at him. He didn’t even recognize you,” Chris tried to reason, but Derek wasn’t listening.
He wouldn’t let Chris put Peter down like he was nothing more than a stupid dog.
“He will,” Derek said with a confidence he didn’t feel, but he still stepped closer to the cell.
Peter’s reaction was instant, the growling getting even louder and he swiped at Derek, even though he was too far away for Peter to ever reach. But now that Derek was closer and got a better look at Peter he could see that he must have tried to bite through his wrist and ankle at one point and Derek felt sick.
He wanted nothing more than to step into that cell and gather Peter close, get the shackles off and take him home but it was more likely that Peter would bite his head off before Derek could even reach for the shackles.
So instead Derek turned around and fixed Chris with a glare.
“I’ll need some bandages, a towel and water,” he instructed and stared Chris down, until he finally huffed and hurried away.
“You’re really going in there?” Stiles asked, still worriedly glancing at Peter.
“Yes,” Derek said. “But I’m not getting close enough to let him touch me. I’ll need to remind him of his humanity first.”
Stiles jumped slightly when Peter snapped his teeth at them.
“Yes, you should. Remind him of that,” he muttered, and John looked over at Derek.
“You think you can bring him back?” he quietly asked, and Derek straightened his shoulders.
“I really hope so,” he said because he didn’t know how far Peter was gone, how important he was to Peter, if he would be enough. But he knew one thing for certain. “And if I’m not, I’m not letting an Argent kill another Hale.”
He didn’t add that he would do it himself, because even though Derek was sure he could if he really had to, he didn’t even want to put that out there.
John seemed like he wanted to say something else, probably offer to kill Peter if Derek couldn’t do it, but before he could Chris thankfully came back. He shoved the bowl with water, the towel and the bandages at Derek, who took them before he opened the door to the cell.
He put everything down next to the bars, and settled down there as well, still well out of reach of Peter, who was now solely focused on him.
“You can leave now,” Derek quietly told the others and while Chris and John did leave, Stiles lingered behind.
“How long do you think this will take?” he asked.
“I don’t know,” Derek quietly admitted and startled when Stiles briefly squeezed his shoulder.
“If you’re still down here in two hours, I’ll bring you some food,” Stiles promised and left before Derek could thank him.
Now it was only Peter and him.
The first hour Derek had spent propped up against the bars, not talking because his voice seemed to aggravate Peter further. Derek tried hard not to let that hurt him, but it was a lost cause. He had nudged the bowl of water closer to Peter at one point, using his foot and quickly snatching it back when Peter had pounced on it, but after that they had sat in silence. Well, apart from Peter’s constant growling.
Peter hadn’t known what to do with the water, so it was still sitting there between them, and Derek wished he could take the towel and just wipe Peter down, clean at least his face of the blood, but he wasn’t suicidal enough to get that close to Peter. Not yet, anyway.
After almost an hour of Derek sitting there, and just staring at Peter, Peter’s growling had quieted down. He was still glaring at Derek, but he wasn’t trying to attack him anymore, even when he moved, so Derek counted that as a win.
After that he started to talk. It was about inane things first, telling Peter what he had missed in the last four days, but soon that topic ran dry and they shortly sat in silence again. When Derek had stayed silent for almost two minutes, Peter startled to growl again.
“What do you want me to tell you?” Derek asked, surprised when the growling suddenly stopped. “You ready to listen yet?” he wanted to know but it wasn’t like he really expected Peter to answer.
But it seemed like Peter wanted him to keep talking, and so Derek did. He told him everything about his years in New York with Laura, and how it never had stopped hurting him that they left Peter behind. He talked about the jobs he did there, and how Laura had changed after the fire.
He was just remembering how Laura had challenged another alpha because one of his betas wouldn’t take no for an answer and Laura wanted the right to physically put him into his place, but before Derek got to the really good part, Stiles came back into the basement.
“It’s been two hours,” he carefully said, but Derek only had eyes for Peter.
He was still growling, but it was low, and he kept his eyes mostly on Derek, not even looking at Stiles. It was definitely progress and Derek would take it.
“He seems better,” Stiles observed, and Derek carefully nodded.
“He does,” he agreed and then held his hands out for the bag in Stiles’ hands.
“I got you burgers and fries. See if maybe you can feed him too?” Stiles asked and handed it over, only to hurriedly retreat when Peter snapped at him again.
As soon as he was out of reach, and apparently more importantly out of reach of Derek, Peter settled down again.
“He really likes you,” Stiles said, and Derek frowned.
“He just recognizes me as family,” he gave back and then sent Stiles back up, since it would still take some time before he could get Peter out of here after all.
Derek unpacked his food and slid some fries over to Peter. He wasn’t as careful anymore, convinced that Peter wouldn’t attack him, and while Peter did eye his hand mistrustful, he didn’t make a move to charge forward. Derek counted it as a win.
“I know you hate cold fries, but you hate a cold burger even more, so this is all I can offer you,” Derek said and bit into his mostly cold burger.
He had never minded it as much as Peter had; food was good no matter if it was still warm or not. Peter always had ridiculous high standards for his food though, so he was a lot pickier with it. Derek quickly devoured the burger and then proceeded to tell Peter exactly that.
He still remembered that one Christmas where his mom had refused to cook something for three days after since they had so much left, but Peter adamantly refused to eat any of that, so he had ended up cooking not only for himself, but for Laura, Cora and Derek as well, since they were sick of the same food over and over again.
It was a good memory, a happy one, and Derek briefly got lost in his memories. He startled out of them when he heard the low whine from Peter.
“You with me yet?” he asked in a hopeful voice, but Peter only whined again in response. “Do you recognize me, Peter?” Derek still asked, not surprised when he didn’t get a real answer for that either.
Still, he scooted closer to Peter, who was straining against his restraints again, but this time not in a violent way, but more because he wanted to get closer to Derek.
“I’m here,” Derek soothed and carefully reached out for Peter, who immediately ducked under his hand, allowing Derek to drag his hand through his hair.
“There you are,” Derek mumbled and swallowed hard when Peter almost face-planted into his neck, nuzzling into the sensitive skin there.
Peter hadn’t done that since Paige and to have Peter do this now when he wasn’t in his right mind hurt Derek more than he could put into words. Peter must have picked up on his distress because his whining picked up again and he pressed his face even harder into Derek’s neck. The whine changed to a soothing rumble, intent to calm down injured, hurt or afraid pack members, and Derek sighed.
Peter knew they were pack, and if Derek didn’t feel threatened by anyone he wouldn’t attack either. He could take Peter home.
Derek slowly pushed Peter away, careful not to make him feel unwanted or rejected and then pulled the water bowl closer to them. It was time to clean Peter up. Derek moved Peter’s hand closer to himself, inspecting the shackle, but they were easy enough to get rid off when you had both hands free. It barely took Derek a minute to tear through both of them.
The collar around Peter’s neck was a bit trickier, clearly coated with a thin layer of wolfsbane, and Derek wished he could kill Kate again. The wolfsbane had burned Peter’s throat badly, but luckily there were no signs of poisoning anywhere.
Derek would need a key for that one, and he hoped that Kate’s body was still somewhere around so he could get it. In the meantime, he busied himself with cleaning Peter up. He was dirty on top of bloody and soon enough the water had turned a brown colour. Peter mostly let Derek do what he wanted, but he cuddled close, pressed into Derek’s side and getting distressed whenever Derek moved too far away from him.
Derek’s stomach turned when he saw the still healing wounds on Peter’s wrist and ankle, where teeth had clearly torn into them, and Derek refused to think about how far Peter had come to just chewing through his own limbs. When he found the burned patches on Peter’s belly and back, Derek could feel his eyes flash.
Derek could still very vividly remember what Kate’s stun baton had felt like and for it to leave burns like this on a werewolf—it was another thing Derek didn’t want to think about.
He carefully cleaned Peter up, leaving his face and neck for last, in case Peter changed his mind and decided to attack him, but it never happened. When Derek cradled his face to get the dried blood off Peter even nuzzled into his hand.
“I’m gonna get you home now,” Derek promised and pressed a kiss to Peter’s forehead, hoping to hell that Peter wouldn’t rip him a new one when he was conscious again.
Derek tried to stand up, so that he could see if Stiles was still around, but as soon as he stood up Peter growled again, clinging to his pants in an almost desperate manner.
“I’m not going to leave you,” Derek promised. “I just need the key to get rid of the collar,” he explained but Peter made this distressed sound again that tore at Derek’s heart.
“Alright,” he mumbled eventually. “I’m not leaving.”
He eyed the wall, trying to decide if he could just rip the chain out of it, but Peter had tried it for days and the chain hadn’t budged, so it was unlikely that Derek would succeed. He needed the key. Derek grabbed for his phone and called Stiles.
“Dude, why are you calling me?” Stiles answered and Derek rolled his eyes.
“I need you to come down here,” he said.
“You could not have just come up here?” Stiles asked but Derek could already hear him coming down the stairs.
When Stiles came into view, he froze at the sight of them, Derek standing and Peter still clinging to his legs.
“No, I really couldn’t have come up there,” Derek deadpanned and then hung up. “I need the key to the collar. Did you see anything upstairs? Maybe on Kate?” he asked, hoping that John and Chris hadn’t gotten rid of her body yet.
“Yes,” Stiles said and pulled a key out of his pockets. “I wasn’t sure you would need it but I kept it just in case,” he explained and handed the key to Derek.
Peter didn’t even blink at the close proximity to Derek and Derek couldn’t help but card his fingers through Peter’s hair again.
“He looks better,” Stiles quietly said and Derek shrugged.
“He’ll look even better after a bath,” he gave back but Stiles shook his head.
“No, I mean, he looks more human again. He’s much more alert and understanding,” Stiles said and pointed at Peter’s eyes.
Derek wasn’t convinced Stiles was right, but he had spent the last few hours down here with Peter and since the change must have been gradual he was sure he wouldn’t have recognized it.
“I really hope so,” Derek whispered and then bent down to unlock the collar around Peter’s neck.
It fell away with a quiet noise, almost overshadowed by Peter’s sigh of relief.
“There, that’s better, isn’t it?” Derek asked and drew in a sharp breath when Peter nodded.
“I told you! Totally better!” Stiles exclaimed but Derek didn’t pay him much attention, too focused on Peter.
“You want to go home now?” Derek asked and Peter nodded again, even more decisive than the first time.
“Can you walk?” Stiles asked but Peter only shot him an angry look and Stiles huffed. “Fine, only be human for Derek, what do I care.”
“Can you walk?” Derek repeated the question and Peter shrugged, before he tightened his grip on Derek.
“I’m not going anywhere,” Derek promised him and helped Peter up, slinging an arm around his waist as soon as Peter stood on his own two feet.
Peter continued to cling to him, but he seemed more stable on his feet than they all had thought and it was easy enough to get him up the stairs and out of the house. When they were outside, Peter stopped in his tracks and lifted his head, taking deep breaths and clearly enjoying the fresh air.
Chris and John were still around, surprisingly enough, and as soon as they saw the three of them come out of the house they were on their feet and walking towards them. Peter immediately started to growl at Chris and pushed Derek around until he stood away from Chris, Peter between them like a shield.
“Maybe you should stay back a bit,” Stiles hurriedly said and herded Chris towards his car.
As soon as Chris had his back to them Peter stopped growling and nuzzled into Derek’s side again.
“He seems better,” John said with an assessing glance and Derek shrugged as best as he could with Peter wedged under his arm.
“He’s not ripping my throat out,” Derek gave back and then nodded towards the Camaro. “Think Stiles can drive it without crashing?” he asked and John laughed.
“Probably,” John gave back.
“Absolutely,” Stiles enthusiastically said as he walked back to them. “You really can’t drive?”
“I don’t think Peter would stay in his seat,” Derek gave back and Peter squeezed him even harder at that, clearly enforcing his statement.
“No problem, I can drive. You just get in the backseat and let me play chauffeur.”
Derek hesitated for a split second, thinking that maybe he should ask John to drive, but by then Stiles had already slid behind the wheel.
“Alright,” Derek mumbled and gently steered Peter towards the car. He knew Peter wouldn’t get in until Derek did but then he was likely to keep close again.
Derek eyed the back seat, and then decided that they could be at least comfortable during the ride, so he folded himself into the back of the car and scooted back until he could almost stretch his legs and Peter immediately slid between them, settling on Derek’s chest and tucking his head under his chin.
Derek pressed his nose into Peter’s hair, inhaling deeply and so fiercely glad that he wouldn’t lose this, at least not today. They dozed off as Stiles drove and when Derek sluggishly blinked they were almost back at the loft.
“You didn’t kill us, congratulations,” Derek muttered and Stiles let out an indignant “Hey!”
Derek was distracted when Peter stretched on top of him, rubbing his face over Derek’s chest and Derek quickly reminded himself that this meant nothing. It was a pack think, Peter wasn’t even able of anything else with how he was still mostly feral. But it was easy to pretend, too easy really, and Derek was glad when the car rolled to a stop in front of his building.
A little bit of distance from Peter would do him some good.
It didn’t take much convincing for Peter to get out of the car, though he hovered near the door until Derek scrambled out as well. Derek expected Peter to press himself close again, but even though Peter stayed close, they barely even touched.
Derek frowned, but since it was already more like the old Peter than anything else he had done before, he didn’t comment on it. Stiles only raised his eyebrow at him too when Peter trailed after him, instead of keeping close and in contact.
“You want me to come up?” Stiles asked, but Derek shook his head.
There was no reason for Stiles to linger around, not since Peter seemed to get better by the minute, and so Stiles scrambled into his own car and drove away. Derek stared after him for a second, and when he turned back around to Peter he was frowning.
“Hey, everything okay?” Derek asked him, and after a long time Peter shrugged, seemingly frustrated that he couldn’t verbally answer yet.
It was a good sign.
When they got up to the loft, Derek eyed the kitchen. With all the injuries Peter had sustained at Kate’s hand he really should eat something, but Derek was sure he didn’t have anything edible in his fridge. Getting groceries hadn’t been high on his list of things to do in the last four days.
“You want to eat something?” Derek still asked Peter, phone already out and ready to order some take out.
“Yeah,” Peter mumbled and Derek’s eyes widened at that.
It was the first time Peter had said anything since they had found him and Derek couldn’t help the grin that spread out on his face.
“I’ll order your favorite,” he said, still smiling, but he didn’t comment on Peter’s progress.
He knew from experience that drawing attention to the little things would only make Peter clam up again, and Derek didn’t want that. He was on a good way, and Derek wanted him to continue like that.
Peter hovered in the middle of the room, clearly unsure what to do and Derek’s heart painfully constricted at the thought that Peter didn’t consider this home, didn’t think of this as a safe place where he could do what he want.
“You know this is your home, too, right?” Derek quietly asked, and Peter’s head snapped towards him.
Derek had never turned Peter away, but since there was no key needed for the door he had never given Peter one. Derek had just assumed that Peter knew he wanted him in his space but now it became painfully obvious that Peter didn’t know at all.
“Peter, my home will always be your home, too,” Derek explained.
He still hoped that one day it would be their home, some place they picked out together, but Derek didn’t try to dwell on that thought too long. It would be enough if Peter felt comfortable in his home, left a few things maybe. It had to be enough for Derek.
“Here,” Peter suddenly said, still obviously frustrated with his lack of coherent speech, but when he stepped closer to the couch and made grabbing hands at Derek, it was clear what he wanted anyway.
Derek stepped closer, allowing Peter to drag him down on the couch and cuddle up close to him. They were both on their sides, legs spread out on the couch and tangled together, and Peter had tucked his head back under Derek’s chin.
Derek couldn’t help but to wrap his arms around Peter, nuzzling his hair and just the smell of Peter this close, this content in his arms, put something in Derek at ease. Peter seemed to feel the same way, because he was contentedly purring and the sound almost put Derek to sleep again.
It was everything he ever wanted and he tried to not dwell on the fact that it was familial instinct that drove Peter right now. If Kate hadn’t gotten to Peter they would never be in this position, Peter would never want this, and Derek hated himself a little bit for enjoying this.
When the food finally arrived he hurriedly extracted himself from Peter’s grasp, relieved to put some space between them again, though he would never deny Peter what he needed. He paid for their food and brought it back to the couch, where Peter pulled him close immediately.
It seemed like he wanted to go back to their cuddling but Derek was insistent that they ate first. Peter must be starved at this point, healing burned a lot of calories, and so he shoved the take-out boxes towards Peter until he finally took them.
They ate in silence, though Peter’s throat worked a few times, like he wanted to say something, only to press his lips together and take another angry bite of his food. Derek watched it with concern, but if Peter wasn’t ready to try more words he wouldn’t press him.
“You want to take a shower?” Derek asked once their food was gone and Peter nodded reluctantly, picking up the hem of his shirt and making a face.
“Yeah, it smells pretty bad,” Derek agreed and gently pulled Peter up, before he steered him towards the bathroom.
“You hop in, and I’ll get some clothes for you,” Derek said but before he could leave, Peter snatched his wrist.
He pulled at the hem of his shirt again, and then looked with a puzzled expression at Derek.
“You don’t know how to take them off?” Derek haltingly asked and when Peter nodded sharply, Derek only barely managed to bite back his groan.
He didn’t mind helping Peter with this, didn’t want him to think that this was an imposition for Derek, but the thought of undressing Peter was almost more than Derek could take. He had seen Peter naked before, of course he had, it was something that was unavoidable in a house full of werewolves, but the last time had been before the fire. And Derek hadn’t been the one to undress him.
The thought of peeling Peter out of his clothes was more than appealing to Derek, especially since he had fantasized about this often. And even though the circumstances had been different, he still couldn’t help but react to the thought. Peter’s eyebrow raised questioningly when Derek’s heartbeat suddenly picked up and Derek flushed.
He pushed those thoughts away, and instead reached for Peter’s shirt. Peter was lucid enough to raise his hands when Derek pulled the shirt up, though he hissed when some still unhealed wounds on his upper chest got aggravated in the process. Derek hadn’t seen those injuries yet, had concentrated on Peter’s arms, face and his neck, and he was horrified by the number of unhealed cuts on Peter’s chest.
“I’m so sorry we didn’t find you sooner,” he whispered and traced one of the cuts with featherlight fingers.
“No,” Peter said and caught Derek’s hand in his.
Derek immediately stepped back, putting some distance between them. If Peter didn’t want to be touched by him, then he wouldn’t make Peter uncomfortable by doing it. No matter that it felt like he had left behind his heart when he stepped back.
“No,” Peter said again, but this time he growled and frowned and then used Derek’s hand in his to pull him closer again.
“What?” Derek asked confused because he didn’t quite understand what Peter wanted.
“No,” Peter repeated yet again and stabbed his finger almost painfully between Derek’s eyes before he smoothed out the frown there.
“You don’t want me to feel guilty about that,” Derek guessed and Peter nodded at that.
Derek huffed, because it wasn’t quite as easy as that, but he nodded too.
“Fine, no more guilt for today,” he gave back and then reached for the button of Peter’s pants.
They were dirty, crusted over with blood, but still in one piece, so at least Derek didn’t have to fear any more injuries hidden under the fabric. Peter obediently lifted his feet when Derek lightly tapped them and soon enough Peter was only in his underwear.
Derek knew that his hesitance to undress Peter was more telling than any chemo signal he could ever give off, because there was no such thing as modesty in a wolf pack, especially not if someone was injured and needed the help. But Derek had dreamed of undressing Peter countless times, though never under these circumstances, and it was throwing him for a loop. He had a hard time reminding himself that this meant nothing to Peter, that it wasn’t like that.
When Peter only looked at him expectantly, Derek inwardly sighed and then reached out for his underwear. He made quick work of them and then almost abruptly turned Peter around and guided him to the shower. Derek waited until the water was warm enough and then he steered Peter under the spray before quickly pulling the curtain close.
“There’s body wash, if you want,” Derek said, unwilling to say ‘if you remember how to use it’. “I’ll go get some clothes for you and will be right back,” he promised to all the gods that Peter either remembered how to use body wash or didn’t want to use it because getting his hands on a wet Peter would be a new kind of torture.
Derek rushed up to his room, grabbed the first clothes he saw that would fit Peter, and then dashed back down. He didn’t really think Peter would do something stupid, he was too coherent for that already, but it unsettled him to leave Peter alone in this state.
He shouldn’t have worried, he could still hear Peter under the spray, and so Derek took a minute to just breathe away the lingering fear that he would lose Peter and the guilt about not finding him sooner. At least that was some guilt he could push aside for now.
It didn’t help with the disgusted feeling for himself, for still reacting like this to Peter, even though he was hurt and needed a caring pack mate, and not some idiot who lusted all over him. The guilt over that wasn’t pushed aside so easily and it made him sick.
It felt like he was taking advantage of Peter, and Derek hated himself just a little for being unable of approaching this situation without his inappropriate feelings.
Derek took one last deep breath and valiantly tried to push everything down, before he opened the bathroom door again.
“I have your clothes,” he let Peter know, who hummed in answer but didn’t step out from under the spray.
Derek couldn’t say he was surprised; Peter had been denied a shower for four days and it was no wonder he took extra time to get the stench and grime off himself. Derek could smell his body wash in the air, so Peter had in fact remembered how to use that, and it was a good sign. It meant Peter was getting more coherent with every passing minute.
“Do you want me to leave, so you can get dressed?” Derek asked, even though he really didn’t want to see Peter naked and wet.
But helping him and making sure he was comfortable and taken care of was more important.
“No,” Peter said, and he almost sounded like his old self, like he hadn’t been snarling and trying to attack Derek just a few hours before.
“Alright,” Derek said, swallowing once and trying to steel himself when the shower shut off and then Peter was there, dripping all over Derek’s bathroom floor.
“Here,” Derek quickly said and offered a towel to Peter, who looked in frustration at it.
He reached out for it and took it, but then his hand just hovered there, clearly unsure what to do with it now and Derek gently took it back, even though Peter snarled at him.
“It’s okay if you don’t remember yet how to use it,” Derek softly said, because it was important to him that Peter knew that.
Peter was steadily getting better and Derek had no doubt that he would fully return to his old snarky self in less than a day, but even if he wouldn’t, it wouldn’t be a problem. Derek would always take care of him.
But Peter made a frustrated sound and it occurred to Derek that this might remind him of his time in the coma; his mind already ahead of his body. Derek could understand Peter’s frustration at that, but it wouldn’t help him heal.
“You’ll get there, Peter,” he whispered as he toweled him off. “You’re doing so well, and it will come back to you in no time.”
Peter sighed at that, and briefly nuzzled his nose into Derek’s hair but he still seemed frustrated about this whole situation.
“I got you some clothes,” Derek said once Peter was dry enough and Peter eagerly reached for them.
He got his legs into the sweatpants without trouble, but he hesitated at the shirt and Derek reached out to help him. He didn’t do it for Peter, but he guided him, and soon enough Peter was dressed in his clothes.
Derek couldn’t deny that the sight was doing things to him, and when Peter lifted the collar of his shirt to scent it, Derek had to turn away.
“Sleep,” Peter said, and yawned as if he wanted to really drive his point home, and Derek smiled softly.
“Yeah, we should sleep,” he agreed and walked back out into his living-room.
His bed was standing in the middle of the room and while Derek walked over there without hesitation, Peter stopped at the couch. He seemed unsure again, and Derek’s heart felt like it was squeezed together.
“Sleep?” Peter asked and knocked his knuckles on the couch.
“No, Peter, you don’t have to sleep on the couch, if you don’t want,” Derek rushed out, appalled that Peter would think that. “My bed is big enough.”
Peter immediately relaxed at that, and swiftly walked over to Derek, briefly ducking down to press his face into Derek’s neck, before he slid under the covers. Derek had to pull himself away from the sight of Peter in his bed, and he tried to get himself back under control as he went to turn off the light.
When he finally got into bed too, Peter immediately reached out for him to pull him closer, curling up into Derek’s side. Derek slung an arm around him, keeping him pressed to his side and it wasn’t long before they both fell asleep, legs entangled, and breaths almost synced up.
When Derek woke up, he immediately reached out for Peter, but the bed beside him was empty. Derek shot up, horror scenarios running through his head, and so it took him a second to notice the smell of coffee in his loft.
When his head snapped to the kitchen, Peter was there, leaning against the counter and drinking from a cup. He raised an eyebrow at Derek, questioning and mocking in one, and Derek has never been this relieved.
He quickly got up and rushed over to Peter, dragging him into a hug before he could even put his mug down.
“You’re back,” he breathed into Peter’s hair, the relief so strong Derek thought he might just start to cry.
“I would never leave you,” Peter said and when Derek pulled back there was nothing but seriousness on his face.
Derek tried to take a step back, suddenly aware of their proximity and that Peter likely won’t allow it now anymore, but Peter grabbed his wrist in his hand.
“You know I love you, right?” Peter asked, and Derek didn’t even know what he felt at that, he was a mess of hope, anxiety, happiness and dread, because surely Peter didn’t mean it in the way Derek wanted him to.
“Sure,” Derek rasped out, trying to take another step back, but Peter didn’t let go of him.
“No, you don’t,” Peter said after a searching gaze and then pulled Derek closer.
Derek wasn’t prepared for that, so he almost fell forward, and Peter steadied him with a hand to his hip, but only so he could guide Derek into a soft kiss.
“I love you,” Peter whispered against Derek’s lips.
Derek was too surprised to really react to it, but he quietly whined when Peter pulled away.
“I didn’t know that, actually,” Derek whispered into the space between them and Peter sighed, before he pulled him into a bone crushing hug.
“That’s because you’re an idiot,” Peter chided him, and Derek let out a muffled “Hey,” but Peter didn’t let him go. “If you didn’t mean as much to me as you do, you wouldn’t have been able to bring me back,” Peter explained, and this time Derek moved away from him.
“What?” Derek asked.
“I was so far gone,” Peter said, and his eyes became distant, like he remembered his time in the cell. “There was almost nothing left of me when you found me. Only my anchor or my mate could have brought me back from that, especially as quickly as you did.”
Derek was almost too afraid to hope, still, but he had to know.
“So which one am I to you?” he quietly asked, and Peter leveled him with a look, that called him an idiot more clearly than any words ever could.
“Both, obviously,” Peter shortly gave back and then nodded towards the bathroom. “I know you felt guilty over what you did, at least you smelled like it, but there’s really no need for that.”
“I didn’t want to take advantage,” Derek mumbled and flushed at the admission.
“And you didn’t,” Peter gently said and took his hand. “You took care of a hurt packmember and you certainly didn’t do anything that went beyond that,” Peter reassured him.
“I tried,” Derek gave back, and Peter smiled at him.
“You certainly succeeded. I feel very well taken care of,” he said, almost teasing Derek and Derek just had to lean in to kiss Peter again.
It would probably take him some time to get used to this, that he was allowed to do this, that this was something Peter wanted too, but he had never been happier.
“I was so scared,” Derek whispered when they parted, and Peter framed his face with his hands.
“I was too,” he admitted and brushed his thumbs over Derek’s cheeks. “But I knew you wouldn’t give up. The only thing that kept me from panicking when I felt myself going feral was the knowledge that you would bring me back, that you wouldn’t let that happen to me.”
“Never,” Derek gave back, because he’d rather kill himself than let anyone hurt or kill Peter.
“And I knew that,” Peter lowly said and leaned in to scent Derek.
Derek wrapped his arms around Peter, clinging to him and so damn happy that he got to have this, after everything, and they just stood there like that for a few minutes.
“How about we go to bed and cuddle, and this time you won’t have to feel guilty about it,” Peter suggested and dragged Derek closer to the bed, not that Derek was putting up much of a fight.
“I’d like that,” he gave back and as soon as they were under the covers he reached out for Peter and pulled him into his side, almost wrapping himself around Peter.
Peter huffed an amused laugh and he didn’t protest, but Derek was sure that he only allowed this because he knew that Derek still felt protective of him. Derek was sure that once everything settled down again, Peter would be the one to wrap Derek up in his embrace. Derek couldn’t say he would mind that.
“I love you too, you know,” Derek suddenly said, aware that he hadn’t yet said it, and afraid that it gave the wrong impression but Peter only chuckled.
“No offense, but that is more than obvious,” he said, but he nuzzled Derek’s neck and chest in the process, so Derek knew he wasn’t upset.
“Wanted to say it anyway,” Derek gave back, and Peter hummed.
“I like hearing it.”
“Good,” Derek said and pressed a kiss to Peter’s forehead. “You will hear it a lot from now on.”
“I’m looking forward to it,” Peter said, but he already sounded drowsy and Derek wrapped the blankets more securely around them.
“Sleep,” he whispered into Peter’s hair. “I’ll be here.”
“I know,” Peter said, falling asleep while speaking and Derek felt humbled, knowing that Peter trusted him to keep him safe. That he trusted him at all.
Derek fell asleep soon after Peter, hearing trained on Peter’s heartbeat, and he had the best sleep in a long time.
It was undeniably colder in Northern California than down south. But even so, they didn’t get snow very often in Beacon Hills. Maybe a few days out of the months long winter, and it would never say that long. Which was why when Stiles was woke up to snow for the first time all year, he was excited. He jumped up and out of bed as soon as he realized what tha strange muffled not-sound was, starting his wolf who was curled up beside him. Mr. Wolf picked him head up and watched as Stiles pressed his hands and face against the glass, looking out at the powdery white landscape.
“It’s so pretty,” Stiles said with all the tireless, childlike glee that came from seeing snow.
Eventually Stiles pulled himself away from the window and went to his dad’s room, Mr. Wolf reluctantly getting up off the bed and padding after him with quiet steps. “Dad,” Stiles whisper-yelled as he pushed open the door enough to lean through. “Dad, you gotta wake up and come see this. It’s snowing. Dad, come on.” Stiles walked over and nudged John, shaking his shoulder with both hands until his dad finally came to with a groan, swatting at Stiles’ hands.
“What, kiddo?” John asked around a yawn. Stiles smiled brightly and grabbed his hand, pulling on it, trying to drag John out of bed.
“It’s snowing! C’mon, c’mon, c’mon!”
“Oh alright,” John sighed. He shared a look with the wolf, a silent agreement that neither of them wanted to get up, but they would for Stiles if it would make the boy happy. John got up, popped his back, then let Stiles lead him out of the room, down the stairs, and out onto the porch so that they could look out at the snow.
It was peaceful. The kind of peace that only came from heavy snow cover. Like the world stood still, quiet. It was because the snow muffled sound, John new, but it made something in Stiles seem calmer as well. Or maybe that had something to do with Mr. Wolf sitting beside him, leaning heavily into his side while Stiles leaned into John.
“It’s pretty,” Stiles whispered, like he didn’t want to disrupt the scene.
‘Yeah, it is.”
They stood there for as long as they could stand the cold (only a couple of minutes sadly) before going inside. John went to start breakfast, while Stiles dutifully got down mugs to make hot chocolate for them both.
Shortly after breakfast (which Mr. Wolf was included in because he was picky, and refused to eat dog food) John’s phone rang. He went upstairs to answer it, and when he came downstairs, he had a solemn look on his face.
“What’s wrong?” Stiles asked, hands going to Mr. Wolf’s fur. Holding onto it, carding his fingers through the coarse-but-soft strands, centered him even as he felt his worry beginning.
“I’m afraid… school was cancelled,” John said, shaking his head seriously. Then he cracked a grin and Stiles grinned right back, jumping in excitement.
“Snow day!”
“C’mon, why don’t we get into something warmer and we can go play outside for a while, maybe go for a walk.” Mr. Wolf would, of course, be joining them.
Mr. Wolf was not pleased when Stiles manipulated him into a pair of garish dog booties to keep his paws warm with those sad brown eyes of him. Mischievous child knew just how to use them to get exactly what he wanted.
