#platonic steter

[kathrahender]

"You came" "You called" trope can be so heartbreaking (in a good sense) and heartwarming when it's about enemies/rivals to lovers or enemies/rivals to family ships/duos.

[twothumbsandnostakeincanon]

Gather ‘round, fuckos, and read my incoherent word lasagne about Papa Bear Stilinski, Mama Bear Stilinski, and Baby Bear Stiles. 

Let’s say John and Claudia are alone, living their private werebear life, until they have Stiles. Suddenly it’s much more imperative that they live in a safe town. A small town. A small safe town with a large, supportive, supernatural presence. 

Turns out the Beacon Hill’s sheriff’s department is hiring, and the Hale pack seems pretty legit. 

They arrive, introduce themselves, and everyone is lowkey freaking out. They didn’t even know werebears were like, a thing? Talia wants to know why Deaton didn’t tell her about werebears, Deaton wants to know why werebears aren’t in any of his books, and the books want to know why they’re being blamed. 

Anyway, eventually they settle into town, and it quickly becomes apparent that the Hale house and the Stilinski house are the only two places fully childproofed for both wolf cubs and bear cubs. Babysitting agreements are made. You can’t really watch kids sneeze themselves into their first shift, or go through a teething phase that takes out nearly all of the porch railing, without falling a little bit in familial love, and before too long the families are BFFs. 

Stiles in particular clearly loves Peter. He’s latched on with a combination of hero worship and a childhood crush, and when Stiles latches on to someone he doesn’t let go. 

What’s surprising is that Peter doesn’t even try to shake the kid off. He seems delighted that an adorable fluff ball is following him around. It might have something to do with the fact that the fluff ball is destined to grow up into a 500 pound killing machine, but it might also have something to do with what an adorable little shit Stiles is. In any case Peter gracefully accepts the sunflowers that Stiles brings to him, ignoring the teeth marks with a thank you. 

When Kate Argent rolls into town, she sniffs around and finds out that there are werebears in Beacon Hills as well as the Hale pack. She’s viciously thrilled. After all, there are so few werebears left due only to the diligence of her family. She’s going to have the opportunity to partake in a proud Argent tradition. 

So she goes to play Goldilocks. She intends to leave poison in the porridge, to booby-trap the chairs, to set fire to the beds- but only two of the werebears are actually out for a walk that day. It’s date night. 

Baby Bear and Peter Wolf are home. 

They both always thought Goldilocks got off too easy for a home invasion. When you throw conspiracy to commit murder into the mix too, well- 

Kate doesn’t get away with anything. She doesn’t get away at all. 

When John and Claudia come home from date night, there’s an unconscious hunter tied up in the kitchen, and Peter is telling Stiles a new version of Goldilocks and the Three Bears that they’ve never heard before. They’re not sure about the story that apparently includes enhanced interrogation methods used by the bear family, but they are grateful that Peter refrained from committing murder in their kitchen without asking first.  

[bloody-bee-tea]

Just Keep Me Close

This is some Stiles & Peter friendship with lots of cuddling and more or less background Sterek. Read it here on AO3 or read the full 2k here cause I'm on mobile and Tumblr is stupid.

~*~*~

Peter growls before he even slides the key into the lock. He can smell Stiles everywhere, and that shouldn’t be. At all.

Peter kept his new apartment a secret for a reason.

But Stiles had no doubt been there, and, as Peter focuses his hearing, he is still in his apartment. Peter wants to do nothing more than slam open his door and demand that Stiles leaves, right the fuck now, but he takes a deep breath and then opens his door in a much more controlled way.

He puts his keys in his bowl, eyes straining for any movement of Stiles, and Peter frowns when there was nothing that indicated that Stiles was moving at all. If his heartbeat wasn’t so steady, Peter would be worried by now.

Peter makes his way into the living-room, eyes rapidly checking the room, but it still takes him a moment to find Stiles. He’s on the couch, but not sprawled out like he usually is in the loft. Instead, Stiles is curled up small, taking up as little space as he possibly can with his long limbs, and he’s desperately clutching onto the blanket that’s thrown over his shoulders.

Peter completely deflates when he sees Stiles like that, protest and harsh words dying on his tongue, and instead he sighs. Stiles’ eyes flick over to him, big and miserable and Peter doesn’t know what to do. He’s not good with comfort; never has been and the fire hadn’t made him any kinder.

“What are you doing here?” Peter softly asks, passing by Stiles on his way to the bedroom to change into something more comfortable.

He doesn’t fight the instinct to drag his hand through Stiles’ hair and he’s rewarded with a shaky shudder as Stiles’ presses his eyes to his knees.

“Don’t throw me out,” Stiles whispers into the blanket, and Peter rolls his eyes.

He would never throw out anyone that miserable. He wasn’t that cold-hearted.

“What’s going on?” Peter asks instead of replying to Stiles.

But it seems like that one sentence was all that Stiles was capable of at the moment because he stays silent and unresponsive. He doesn’t move, doesn’t talk, doesn’t even look at Peter when he starts to prepare dinner and Peter almost misses it when he slips out silently.

Peter stares after him for a long while, before he shrugs it off and saves his steak.

~*~*~

It keeps happening. After a few weeks Peter starts to find Stiles in his bed and Peter doesn’t know what to do with that. Everything in his den smells like Stiles, and like misery, and Peter can’t say that he is a fan of that combination.

But he can tell that Stiles is gearing up for something, he gets more nervous and restless every time Peter comes home, but so far he hasn’t said anything. He doesn’t seem ready.

Until one evening he suddenly is.

“Peter?” Stiles asks, voice small and careful and Peter wishes there was something for him to punch to make Stiles feel better.

“Yes, darling?”

“Would you, I mean—could you—just for a little while—and you don’t have to, I don’t want to pressure you—you can say no—,” Stiles stammers and Peter fights the urge to roll his eyes.

“Sweetheart, you actually have to ask first,” Peter gently tells him when it seems like Stiles would just go on and on.

“Oh. Uh, I mean—I wanted to know—,” Stiles catches himself this time and takes a deep breath before he finally asks what he wants. “Would you maybe just hold me for a minute or two?”

Stiles sinks even deeper into the couch cushions, puffs up the blanket even more around him, and Peter doesn’t even hesitate a second. He’s up and walking across the room before Stiles actually stops talking, which clearly is a surprise to Stiles, if his wide eyes are anything to go by.

Peter pushes Stiles away from the armrest, sliding in between that and Stiles, and immediately pulling him onto his lap, blanket and everything. Stiles lets out a shuddering breath before he completely melts against Peter, tightly grapping his shirt.

Stiles keeps shaking, and he makes no intention to move away from Peter at all, not that Peter minds. He can finally do something for Stiles, and he is more than happy to do this for him.

~*~*~

Stiles takes Peter’s one time cuddling as blanket permission. He doesn’t always feel like cuddling, sometimes he’s just happy to curl up in Peter’s bed or on his couch and he leaves without ever saying a word to Peter. But it happens more and more that he makes a questioning noise, eyes wide and pleading, and Peter is so very weak for his boy.

He always slides in next to Stiles on the couch, or curls around him in bed, and he will never stop being amazed at how small Stiles can make himself, how trusting he curls into Peter, holding on and pressing close. Stiles can stay like that for hours if Peter lets him, and really, there’s no reason not to.

This is clearly something Stiles needs, doesn’t get anywhere else, and Peter will bite his tongue off before he ever tells Stiles that he has to leave. Peter suspects daddy issues, but he never brings it up, doesn’t want to upset Stiles any more than he clearly is on the days he comes over, and instead he just pulls him closer and snuffles into Stiles’ hair.

They fall asleep like that more often than not, Stiles carefully cradled protectively against Peter’s chest, and whenever he leaves afterwards, he seems happier, holds himself upright and tall. A startling contrast to how small he curls up when Peter has him in his arms, but it loses something in Peter’s chest to see his boy like that.

~*~*~

Peter thinks things will change now. Stiles and Derek finally stopped circling around each other, admitted their feelings in a truly impressive shouting match before they started making out, and Peter thinks this is it.

He will never admit that he’s going to miss his boy; miss how trusting and soft he was in his arms, how protective he made Peter feel, but he guesses it’s only normal that Derek will take his place now.

So Peter is more than surprised when he comes home and the by now so familiar heartbeat greets him at the door.

“Why are you not with Derek?” Pete wants to know but he shuts his mouth when Stiles just whines at that, a sound so desperate it goes clear through Peter’s heart, and he’s on the couch a moment later.

Stiles didn’t say anything yet, but Peter is not going to wait and let his boy stew until he talked himself out of asking for it at all. Stiles doesn’t protest, curls up familiarly small and Peter sighs into his hair.

Derek is not going to like this, at all, but Peter will never deny his boy anything. He doesn’t ask again why Stiles doesn’t do this with Derek; he understands that sometimes not everyone can give you what you need, and maybe that is the case for Stiles right now.

~*~*~

Derek clearly doesn’t think the same, because he slams Peter against the wall the next time he’s at the loft.

“What are you doing with Stiles?” he growls in his face but Peter doesn’t react.

He’s certain that Derek will not hurt him, and so he just shrugs.

“Why don’t you ask him?” he asks Derek, whose eyes flash at that.

“He won’t tell me!”

Peter can see how worried Derek is about that and he knows his nephew; Derek would never say it out loud, he’s too loyal for that, but deep down he fears that Stiles is cheating on him, will leave him eventually.

The Hale’s have a huge load of abandonment issues, and this is just the typical outcome of it.

“I can’t tell you either,” Peter softly says. “It’s his decision. But he’s not sleeping with me. He would never cheat on you; he loves you too much.”

“Then why won’t he let me help?” Derek desperately asks and Peter cups his neck.

“I don’t know, pup. I’ll talk to him.”

Derek whined, low and desperate, hurt that his mate wouldn’t talk to him, but he also nodded, acknowledging Peter’s offer.

~*~*~

Stiles is stubborn; so stubborn in fact that Peter just wants to shake him for once when he just shakes his head at Peter’s question.

“Darling, he worries,” Peter tries again but Stiles hides his face in Peter’s chest and doesn’t reply.

Peter accepts the silence for almost ten minutes before he presses his point again.

“He cornered me last week, asking me if you were cheating on him,” Peter says, even though it’s not the complete truth.

Derek hadn’t outright stated his worries, but Peter knows they are there. And he’s not above playing dirty. Stiles goes stiff in his arms, and Peter is completely unhappy with that. He’s supposed to be soft and pliable when Peter holds him like that and he doesn’t like this at all.

“If you can’t tell him, why don’t you show him instead?” Peter tries again, because this situation needs a solution.

Derek will continue to think Stiles will leave him, making him pull away, which will just chase Stiles to Peter’s apartment more often. It’s a vicious circle and Peter doesn’t want that for them.

“Show him?” Stiles asks, voice scratch, bur clearly curious.

“Bring him here next time to you come. Show him what it is you do here. He won’t understand otherwise.”

“You don’t like people in your den.”

“I tolerate you, don’t I?” Peter teases and Stiles pokes his boney fingers into Peter’s sternum but he also goes soft against Peter again.

~*~*~

When Peter comes home this time, there are two heartbeats in his apartment. Peter allows himself a small smile before he steps into his living-room.

Stiles is curled up into the corner of the couch like he is so often, but Derek is sitting on the other end of the couch, a frown on his face and he turns a questioning gaze on Peter.

“Sweetheart,” Peter says as he walks past him, slides his hand in a familiar gesture through Stiles’ hair and then does the same for Derek, greeting him with a low “Pup,”, noticing how Derek relaxes at that.

Peter changes into sweatpants and a shirt, and when he comes back out Stiles is looking expectantly at him. Peter immediately smiles at him, gently pushes him over on the couch and slides into his usual spot behind Stiles, already accommodating for the fact that Stiles crawls into his lap almost as soon as he sits down.

Derek stares at him with wide eyes, but he keeps silent, watching them. Stiles curls up against Peter like he usually does, small and trusting, sheltered and protected, and Peter can smell how his scent goes from miserable and desperate to relaxed and happy.

Derek’s eyes go wide, so he clearly smells it too, and when Peter starts moving his thumb up and down Stiles’ arm, he nods lightly.

He gets it now.

~*~*~

Stiles and Derek keep showing up together. Peter’s den smells like pack, like family by now, and he revels in it.

Stiles needs hugs less and less the longer he is with Derek, but he still comes by all the time, Derek in tow, and he still presses close to Peter when they sit on the couch, but he loses the desperate edge to his actions.

Derek gets pulled in slowly; dragged close during cuddles, included in Peter’s and Stiles’ already established routines, and he loses his worried gaze, understands how Stiles and Peter work, that he doesn’t need to worry.

They are pack.

[kathrahender]

The tropes "Don’t Die On Me", "I’ve Got You", "You’re Not Alone", "Please, stay", "Let Me Help You" and "Don’t Touch Him" are peak in enemies-to-lovers ships/enemies-to-family duos.

[steterweek]

I forget - can we write platonic/friendship Stiles&Peter for Steter Week or does it have to be shippy?

I think that anything showcasing their connection is great for Steter Week. As long as the fanwork really focuses on the relationship between the two of them, then that’s perfectly all right.

~Mal