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Hi! Because I’ve gotten a couple new followers here and am becoming a bit more active in this fandom again, I just wanted ppl to know that this is a side blog. Follows, likes, etc come from my main- protectlouandhazza. Wish that wasn’t the case, but that’s just the way tumblr works. Thanks for being here ❤️
Just had a thought I thought you might enjoy: Stiles realising Peter's kinda weirdly helpful to him and him alone and gleefully testing out where Peter's asshole ('Are you an idiot? Do it yourself')/simp ('*sigh* if I have to') lines are regarding helping out Stiles with stuff ♥️
Stiles, coming up with increasingly stupid or demanding requests just to see how far he can push Peter/what he can get from his Creeperwolf *snickers*
- Peter, I need rice flour.
- Then go buy some?
- But I need it now and I have dinner going on the stove
- There is five other pack members to ask
- But I didn't ask them, did I? I asked you
Peter : I'll be back in five minutes
@kymera219 leaving the good shit in the tags
Stiles doesn’t mean for it to become a thing. Really, he doesn’t. He’s just…curious.
He’d started noticing that Peter is…oddly accommodating, when it comes to Stiles. And only to Stiles. He’ll refuse Derek no problem, even though he’s both Peter’s alpha and nephew. The betas, if they dared to ask him for anything, get a withering glare and scathing remark that has them scurrying away to do whatever it was they’d asked of him (or, in Scott’s case, stomping out with a resentful scowl).
Stiles though, he’d get an insult or question of whether he had the capability of a toddler, but he’d still do it. And there was never any real heat behind the words. Stiles didn’t think any of the others had noticed yet, since they tried to spend as little time around Peter as possible. But he did.
When Stiles realises that Peter seems to be more willing to do things for him than anyone else, he decides to perform a little experiment. He wants to see exactly where the line stands between what he could and couldn’t get Peter to do.
The results are…unexpected.
May you wake up with pointed ears, curled horns, sharp fangs, pitch black eyes, and whatever other inhuman parts you would like to have.
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Prompt fic #4 (bored doing the laundry)
From Melika: opening a cafe
Gossip ran through Beacon Hills like fire through a house treated with accelerants (…too soon?): Peter Hale was opening a cafe.
“It must be a laundering scheme or something,” Stiles said, chewing on the straw of his milkshake.
Scott’s eyebrows pinched together. “I thought it was a cafe, not a laundromat. A laundromat cafe combo?” He perked up. “That’s not a bad idea, actually.”
Stiles brushed the misunderstanding aside. “Opening a cafe is actually a lot of hard work,” he said. “You’ve got to, like, get up early and make coffee drinks for people. Can you imagine Peter’s reaction if a yummy mummy pushed her running stroller up to his cafe counter and ordered a grande skinny half caramel iced latte with pistachio milk and non-fat whip?”
“I don’t know what that is,” Scott was confident enough to admit, which was fair, since Stiles was pretty sure he’d made it up. He didn’t have eight dollars to drop on fancy coffee drinks so he was unfamiliar with the terminology.
“I’m going to check it out,” Stiles decided.
Scott was unsurprised. “You do that,” he said. “I’ve got a date with someone. Allison, Kira, or Issac. Possibly all three.”
“Enjoy yourself, buddy,” Stiles said, encouragingly, and clapped him on the back.
Peter’s new cafe was located in the most ritzy area of downtown, between an art gallery and the really nice jewelry shop. The sign was very minimalist, dark brown wood with brushed steel letters reading: ‘Origin’.
“What a stupid name,” Stiles muttered, pushing his way into the shop. The dark brown wood and brushed steel continued throughout the small storefront, small tables and a counter with dark reclaimed wood, heavy brushed steel chairs and stools, grey walls and a poured concrete floor.
“Sorry I didn’t consult you,” Peter Hale said, with a smirk. He was standing at the counter in a crisp black button down with a white apron tied around his waist. Behind him the wall was given over to square cubbyholes, each containing a glass canister of coffee beans or tea leaves, neatly labeled in chalk. There was no expresso machine in sight.
“I thought this was a cafe,” Stiles said.
“Pour overs only,” Peter informed him, gesturing to a contraption that looked like it had been stolen from a chemistry lab. “I also do cold brew, but only at prior request.”
“This is even more pretentious than I’d imagined.” Stiles glanced around again, impressed dispute himself. There was a neat little case containing pastries, each of them looking like a spectacular work of art.
Peter’s smirk deepened. “Thank you, sweetheart,” he said, in a silky tone. “What can I get for you?”
Stiles thought about his nearly-empty bank account. “I don’t see any prices, but I’m pretty sure I can’t afford anything here.”
“Oh the house, for my favorite little spark,” Peter offered.
“I’m taller than you!” Stiles exclaimed, though he wasn’t actually that offended.
Peter hummed and turned to the ranks of canisters, choosing on and taking it down, then went about preparing the coffee with excruciating precision, hand grinding it, setting it up in the chemistry set up, pouring the water incredibly slowly. It took approximately one thousand years.
Stiles looked down doubtfully at the heavy cream ceramic mug Peter had served the coffee in.
“So this is definitely the front for some illegal business, right?” he asked. “There’s no way you’re making a profit on this.”
Peter huffed a laugh. “It is a front,” he admitted easily. “For my coffee and tea import business,” he said. “Most of my work is online, but some of the procurers I work with have expressed an interest in doing some taste testing so I thought it might be nice to have a set up. Being able to inject some quality coffee and tea into the community is only a small benefit.”
Stiles frowned, then sipped at the coffee. “Holy shit!” he exclaimed, looking down at the cup. Even without any sugar or milk the coffee is incredible.
Peter laughed at him. “That’s what coffee is supposed to taste like,” he said. He leaned over the counter, leering. “You know, there are a lot of other refined tastes I could introduce you to.” He caught the sleeve of Stiles’ flannel and rubbed it between two fingers. “Clothes to accentuate your figure. Foods that will make you realize you’ve been subsisting on slop. Sheets so soft and silken they will feel like water against your bare skin. Mattresses like sleeping in a cloud.”
This was the point where Stiles should run away, disgusted and horrified. Peter reached up and skimmed his fingertips over Stiles’ cheekbones. The thing was, Stiles reflected, this was really good coffee. If he slept with Peter he’d probably get to drink it again.
Peter, looking at Stiles : Oh, this is MY dumbass
Nobody has made me feel safer or more respected than the filthy perverted freaks I was warned about.
Just had a thought I thought you might enjoy: Stiles realising Peter's kinda weirdly helpful to him and him alone and gleefully testing out where Peter's asshole ('Are you an idiot? Do it yourself')/simp ('*sigh* if I have to') lines are regarding helping out Stiles with stuff ♥️
Stiles, coming up with increasingly stupid or demanding requests just to see how far he can push Peter/what he can get from his Creeperwolf *snickers*
- Peter, I need rice flour.
- Then go buy some?
- But I need it now and I have dinner going on the stove
- There is five other pack members to ask
- But I didn't ask them, did I? I asked you
Peter : I'll be back in five minutes
HEY that's MY emotional support morally ambiguous misunderstood full of trauma touch starved yearning for love drenched in blood responsible for numerous atrocities comfort character who is TRYING & u will TREAT them with RESPECT
phoe’s favorite guys (3/?)
"what a nerd lol" i said with barely controlled lust
