Seeking Comfort

Stiles is a sub, no doubts about it, even without looking at his medical records. Whilst yes he is boisterous and full of life, he feels guilty often and needs discipline to keep him inline.

He grew up with a fascination with the sub bracelets people wore. When he was young he only had a plain blue one but over the years he got more and more so he could pick and choose which one he wanted to wear.

The bracelet let anyone dealing with him know he was a sub. So doms treat him differently. They try to be more gentle than stand off-ish.

Stiles isn't ashamed of being a sub like a lot of people are. He likes having rules so he knows what he can and can't do. He likes not having to make important decisions himself because his dad, his legal dominant at the moment, makes them for him.

Derek is a Dom, as well as an alpha. Werewolves are common knowledge in Beacon Hills, they live peacefully with humans and help a lot with the emergency services.

Because of his status and his little rag tag pack he is their alpha and dom. Well, he isn't but that's how their dynamic works. The power he holds over them both as a Dom and alpha makes the pack crave discipline from him, especially the subs.

Beacon Hills has settled down. Nothing has happened since the nogistune attack but it's still trying to recover from that alone. Stiles is the main one that needs help, but he refuses. As obedient as he can be, he's a stubborn little fucker.

His dad, Derek and Scott have all tried to convince him to let Derek help. Stiles, though human, is affected strongly by pack status and is treated as pack. He is pack, so Derek punishing him would have more of an impact compared to his dad or Scott doing it.

"Stiles, you haven't eaten for like two days, dude," Scott calls through his bedroom door. Stiles is zoned out, the sleeping tablets he's taken haven't worked and he hasn't slept in three days. His eyes are dark and dead, his skin almost translucent and his bones becoming more apparent.

"Do you want me to spank you?" Scott asks, using his Dom voice a little bit. It makes him feel bad, using it on his friend, but it needs to happen. "Or should I get your dad to? Or Derek? I'm sure you'd obey your alpha."
"Scott, I don't need a punishment!" Stiles says back, glad Scott can hear him without him shouting.

"I'm not letting you drop again, Stiles. Admit that you need help. No one is going to think any less of you," Scott reassures.
"Scott?" Stiles asks, voice small and broken. "Can you take me to Derek's?"

Finally.

Stiles doesn't speak at all on the car journey to Derek's loft. It's in the process of being done up, Derek wanting it to be a pack house eventually. Scott focuses on the road and trying to calm Stiles through their bond.

"Stiles," Scott repeats for the fourth time before Stiles responds. He blinks his eyes a couple times and looks at Scott.
"Yes?"
"You need to get inside. Let's go," he encourages.

Derek opens the door and welcomes them in, smiling tightly at Scott.
"You go home," he says gently. "You've done well. I'll text you how he is a little later, okay?"
"Thank you," Scott sighs in relief and deflates a little.

Stiles doesn't show any response to Derek placing a cold bottle of water against his neck, which would usually end up in a fit of surprised laughter.
"Hey, Stiles," Derek says slowly, voice gentle so he doesn't startle him.

"Stiles I want you to go and shower for me. D'you think you can that or do you want some help?" He asks kindly, soothing hands rubbing Stiles' arms.
"Help, please," Stiles murmurs embarrassedly, looking at the floor.
"There is nothing wrong with needing help every now and then. We're going to get you in the shower, eat some dinner and then we'll talk about a punishment."

Stiles begins to shake his head and try to protest but Derek shushes his mumbled excuses. They walk upstairs together, Derek supporting Stiles as they go.

When they get to the bathroom Derek begins tugging at Stiles' top.
"Off, Stiles. Now."

Stiles strips down clumsily and, with Derek's firm assistance, steps into the shower. He needs a little guidance with what soapy, gooey stuff goes where but he manages. Derek has to help hold him upright when he gets shampoo in his eyes and begins to slip.

"There we go, Stiles," Derek soothes, wiping the suds away from his eyes. Stiles collapses against his chest and Derek feels his heart break a little when he can hear Stiles' sniffles and smell his tears.

He brings him into the bedroom, holding him close so he doesn't have to walk. Stiles whines and shakes his head when Derek tries to detach them.

"Love, it's just so you can get some clothes on. Yeah?"

Stiles reluctantly leans back so Derek can pull one of his Henleys over Stiles' head and a pair of joggers up his legs. He ruffles Stiles' hair gently before he pulls him to stand up.

"You want a burger? We can order pizza?" Derek suggests. Stiles just presses his face into Derek's chest. Derek chuckles and rubs his back. "I'll choose then. Let's go downstairs."

He sits Stiles on the couch, draping a blanket over him before he goes to order a pizza and some curly fries- his favourite food always cheers him up a bit so hopefully it'll do the same for Stiles.

When he goes back into the living room Stiles is lying on the couch, staring at the ceiling blankly.
"Stiles look at me," Derek demands. Stiles' head snaps toward him, lips parted.

Derek sits down on the armchair and waves his hand for Stiles to come over. Stiles walks over to him, stopping in front of him.
"Will you kneel for me Stiles?" Derek asks as he places a pillow between his feet. He doesn't want to force Stiles into anything.

Stiles drops to his knees, landing softly on the pillow. He ducks his head and wriggles until he's comfortable. Derek threads his fingers through Stiles' hair and scratches lightly at his scalp. Stiles hums and leans into the touch.

"How d'you feel?" Derek asks.
"Sad. Guilty. Bad. Small," Stiles whispers, eyes welling up with tears again. "I'm so tired, Derek. So tired."
"Do you still have the nightmares?" Derek asks wearily. Stiles nods, wiping his eyes quickly. "Dinner is going to be a little longer than expected. So we can get the punishment over with now if you'd like."
"How?" Stiles whispers.

"I want you to stand up and come over my lap," he says softly. "Whenever you're ready."
"Am I bad?" Stiles asks.
"You've been bad by not looking after yourself. But you're not bad because of what happened. This isn't to right any wrongs. This is to make you feel better."

Stiles stands on wobbly legs, hands resting on the waistband of his joggers.
"Off?" He asks.
"Not today," Derek answers, an encouraging hand on the small of his back. Stiles nods to himself and sighs before he lays himself across Derek's lap. His cheeks feel hot and he can feel his mind going quiet already, which for him is very rare.

Derek keeps his arm on Stiles' back so he is held down, listening carefully for any sign of anything bad. Stiles takes a deep breath in and releases it, relaxing into Derek and allowing himself to be held down.

"You think you can count them?" Derek asks. Stiles nods. "Good."

Now if this were any other situation Stiles would be rock hard against Derek's thigh but in his current state he can't even bring himself to enjoy the attention from the man he's been crushing on for so long.

Derek smacks his hand down and Stiles cries out, surprised, before choking out a quiet 'one!' He is about to turn and ask Derek why he has stopped when a harder slap hits his right cheek.

"Two!" Stiles gasps, tensing up.
"Relax," Derek says. He strokes his hand soothingly up Stiles thigh until the boy has relaxed enough to take more.

Derek keeps a steady rhythm and he hits with the same force each time, making more tears spring to his eyes. His voice is thick and wet as he counts out the last numbers.

"10, all done," Derek finalises and pulls Stiles to straddle his lap. Stiles tucks his face into Derek's neck and clings to him tightly as he cries. Derek's hand rests at the base of his neck, squeezing slightly as his other rubs his back soothingly.

"Thank you," Stiles whimpers, fitting against Derek's chest nicely.
"That's okay, you were such a good boy, Stiles. I'm really proud of you."

Stiles relaxes even more at that, his mind clear and slightly slow.
"So we can eat the food when it gets here and then I want you to stay the night so I can keep an eye on you. Is that okay?"
"Yes," Stiles mumbles, yawning sleepily.

"Hey, stay awake. I know you're super tired but I want you to sleep all night through. We'll eat and then sleep," Derek amends, smoothing down Stiles' hair.

Derek puts on Star Wars, Stiles having left his DVD at the loft after pack night.
"I'll get you some water," Derek says and moves Stiles so he is comfortable but still sat up.

Derek keeps an easy conversation going until the food arrives, bringing it in and setting it out on the coffee table.
"I've got some hot chocolate if you want some before bed? It's my mums recipe. We used to have it before we went to sleep and it always made us sleep through."
"That'd be nice," Stiles smiles. "I like family recipes. I'll make you my mum's brownies one day."
"Can't wait," Derek grins, nudging the box of curly fries towards Stiles.

"You're amazing," Stiles groans as he bites into one. "Thanks," Derek grins and grabs a slice of pizza. "How does your ass feel?"

Stiles flushes lightly, clearing his throat.
"It's uh- a little sore. But it's good, y'know?" Stiles mumbles.
"That's good, Stiles. I'm glad it's helped you feel better. You can ask for that whenever you need it."
"I'm not very good at asking for things."

Derek rests a gentle hand on his knee, thumb rubbing back and forth.
"Maybe if you feel like you need discipline and the pack are round or you don't want to say you can come and kneel beside me. Does that sound okay?"
"Y-yeah, I like the sound of that," Stiles smiles, looking down at Derek's hand. "I forgot to bring my phone. Can you text my dad for me?"

Derek rings him instead, putting the phone on speaker as he moves his arm for Stiles to curl into his side. Stiles, still slightly dizzy and clingy, makes a happy noise and tucks himself into Derek's chest. Growing up around Scott and then being his best friend when he was turned into a werewolf has certainly helped him be as tactile as one.

"Hey, Derek, how's my kid? You looking after him?" The sheriff greets. Derek smiles and tightens his arm around  Stiles.
"He's doing well, been very well behaved, you'll be pleased to hear."
"I am glad to hear it. Is he there?"
"Hi dad," Stiles yawns, still eating the pizza.

"Hey kiddo, how you holding up?"
"Good, Derek isn't lying to you. I've eaten and I'm going to sleep in a minute. Just wanted to talk to you. Feel a bit hazy."
"That's good. I'm proud of you, Stiles. Now will you be good for Derek until tomorrow when Scott comes to get you?"
"Yes, dad," Stiles sighs. "Are we having dinner with Scott and Melissa tomorrow?"
"Yeah. I'll call you when I'm on lunch tomorrow. Be good, love you, kid."
"Love you, too, dad."

Derek takes it off speaker and presses it to his ear. He gets up and walks to the kitchen. Stiles can hear the kettle but can't hear Derek talking so he busies himself with filling his stomach until Derek returns.

"What were you talking to my dad about?" Stiles asks when Derek comes in with two mugs of hot chocolate and some biscuits.
"He asked what we've been doing, what we plan on doing and whether I've spoken to you about some things yet."
"What things?" Stiles asks immediately, anxiety beginning to flare up at the thought of what their conversation may hold.

"Hey," Derek soothes, putting the cups down to wrap his arms around Stiles. Stiles nuzzles into his chest. "No need to be nervous. We'll go up to bed and sleep the whole night and then in the morning we'll talk. Okay? It's nothing bad, it's just about how you're feeling as a sub and what you're doing when you turn eighteen."
"Okay. Thank you."

Stiles' breath hitches when he feels Derek's lips brush his forehead lightly.
"Go on up, I'll be there in a sec. Good boy."

They sit in bed beside each other, Stiles feeling slightly awkward because it's Derek's bed. He feels like a nuisance and-
"Stop thinking. Talk to me, I like hearing your voice," Derek says, avoiding the mental abuse Stiles was putting himself through. "I will tell you if you've been bad. And you haven't."
"O-okay."

As they sip their drinks Stiles talks about wanting to get back to school but also being terrified, Derek recommends therapy and the blanch that he receives in response tells him it's something to talk about at a later date.

"Do you want to take your shirt off? Your body won't regulate the heat as much as mine will and you'll overheat. I'll take mine off too, if that's okay, because skin contact is helpful when going through things like this."

Stiles chuckles and nods his head. He pulls Derek's Henley over his head and waits for Derek to do the same.
"Take a breath, dude. You say I talk a lot. I trust you, it's okay," Stiles reassures, wriggling until he's comfortable beneath the covers. He can feel Derek shift behind him and an arm drapes over his waist. Derek lets it rest lightly until Stiles pulls it to his chest curling so his back is pressed against Derek's chest.

"Night, Der. Thank you."
"Night, Stiles. I'm very proud of you for how good you have been today."

Stiles falls asleep with a lazy smile on his face.

When he wakes up in the morning Derek is draped over his back, sweat making his skin shiny. He sits up, startled when he realises he hasn't had a nightmare.

"Woah, what's up?" Derek asks, rubbing at his eyes.
"Shit, sorry," Stiles blushes.
"It's okay. What's wrong?" Derek asks again.
"I haven't had a nightmare!" Stiles exclaims.
"That's great," Derek grins, wrapping his arms around Stiles' waist after lying down. He tucks his face into Stiles' hip, nuzzling the bare skin there. Stiles flushes and shivers.

"It feels different now that I'm not dropped," Stiles murmurs.
"Bad or good?" Derek asks, voice lower because he's tired.
"It's still good, just feels different. I don't know- maybe it's just because I'm more aware, so it's a little embarrassing?"
"Whys it embarrassing?" Derek says, sitting up so he's beside Stiles.
"Because I have to be looked after like this," Stiles answers quietly. Derek's hand squeezes the back of his neck, making him shiver and relax.

"I am made to look after people. You are made to be looked after. You are in my pack and I look after my pack. Understood?"
"Yes, sir," Stiles gasps. "C-can I kneel for a little while?"
"Yeah. You come kneel in the kitchen while I make us some breakfast."

Derek sets a cushion on the floor next to the freezer. Stiles smiles at him thankfully, shifting until he comfortable on the floor.
"You're doing very well. Thank you for letting me help."

There is no need for Stiles to respond so he doesn't, just nods his head and looks at his knees.

"We'll talk about some important things over breakfast, okay?"
"Yeah," Stiles answers, biting his lip and fidgeting now that his nerves have picked up again.
"Sit still," Derek says and when Stiles looks up at him he finds that the werewolf isn't even looking at him.

Derek makes chocolate chip pancakes, piles them onto two plates and sits at the table. He watches Stiles for a moment, listening to his heartbeat.
"Come sit with me," he says, smiling gently at Stiles when he gets up and stretches his legs. "If you're going to be kneeling here often I could buy you a kneeling pad. My mum has ones, for any subs that visit the house, that are designed to distribute the pressure evenly so you don't get all stiff and achy."
"You don't have to spend your money on me," Stiles disagrees with the shake of his head. "These are really nice."

"Let me treat you, look after you," Derek soothes. "I'm glad you like it. Now I've spoken to your dad and he says he wants you to consider my offer. I'd like you to consider it too.

I was thinking with everything that's happened recently and how it's affected you, you're getting older, too. We both may benefit from me becoming your legal Dom."
H
Stiles stops eating and just looks at the table, fingers stopping their prior drumming.
"I understand that that's a big step and if you don't want to that's fine, but I really think it would do us both a lot of good. It would further our pack bond, you will have more discipline and be surrounded by the pack."
"I don't need help- I'm fine-"
"Stiles, you're anything but fine. Admit you need help and accept it from those who care," Derek interrupts. Stiles bites his lip, resting his head in his hands.

"I-I don't know. Derek that's major! How would that work? Would I have rules? Would I stay here? Would it be exclusive? Would the pack know and know to report to you if I was bad?" Stiles rambles. He pauses for a moment. "Will it help with the nightmares?"
"It's okay to be worried. We can have a couple of trial weeks so we can figure out how this'll work before we dive straight into it. We will do whatever is best for us, rules or no rules. The pack would know. We will figure it out, try different things to see what fits us best. And yes, it will help with the nightmares," Derek explains.

Stiles continues to pick at his food as he mulls it over, avoiding his alphas gaze. Derek rests his hand on Stiles forearm and rubs gently.
"You're safe with me, Stiles. I won't be angry if you say no, but I really do think it's the best thing for you."
"O-okay."

"You'll try it?"
"I'll do the trial thing you suggested," Stiles mumbles. He still doesn't look at Derek, heart beating quickly as Derek slips his hand down to hold his. And he knows that Derek can hear it.
"Thank you for letting me help. D'you want to talk about how this'll work or do you want to go get dressed?"
"I don't have any clothes?" Stiles says.
"I've got clothes from each pack member just in case they need some when they're here. Didn't Erica tell you?"
"No. She must've just taken them. Yeah, I'll get dressed and then we can talk. I-is that okay?" Stiles checks.
"That's great, Stiles. You go hop in the shower and I'll bring your clothes in. While you're in the shower I'll ring your dad, okay?"
"Yes. Thank you."

Stiles showers quickly, wrapping himself in a towel and sitting on the toilet seat. He takes a couple minutes to think about what's happened in the last twenty four hours. He agreed to be the legal sub of his long time crush, wall of muscle and alpha: Derek Hale. This will change so much- he's going to make a fool of himself-

Stiles' thoughts are interrupted by Derek resting a hand on his jaw and tipping his head do he looks at him.
"Tell me your worries. Let me look after you," Derek whispers. He drops to his knees, cradling Stiles' face. "I know this is scary and you have lots of questions, but I don't want you to worry over it. Do you want your dad to drop you off back here after you've had dinner?" Derek asks.
"I just want to go to sleep and be alone," Stiles sniffles. He wipes at his eyes and shrugs. "Yes please."

Derek sighs and kisses his forehead gently, smoothing out his hair. He pulls Stiles to stand up and tugs him in the direction of the bedroom.
"You lie down and I'll wake you up when you need to get dressed if you haven't already woken up yourself."
"Thanks," Stiles smiles sadly, tucking the blanket beneath his chin and pulling the towel out from around his waist.

When Derek next hears a peep from Stiles, it's because he's screaming. He's thrashing about and tangled in the bedsheets. Derek races up the stairs, pulling the sheets from Stiles and holding his shoulders until he stops fighting.

"Stiles, it's okay, it's me, Derek. I've got you, Stiles, everything's alright," Derek soothes as he pulls Stiles to lie on his chest. Stiles' shoulders shake where Derek's hands hold him and he sobs into Derek's neck. Neither of them pay attention to his lack of clothing, a gentle hand running down Stiles' back.

"Der," Stiles wails, hands fisted in his shirt. "Help me, I need help!"
"Oh, love, I know. I know. And I'm here to help you, yes?" Derek comforts.
"Yes," Stiles answers. He refuses to remove his head from Derek's shoulder.

They sit in silence, Derek listening carefully to Stiles' breathing and his heartbeat.
"Hey, Stiles, we're going to get you feelings better. We'll do this together."
"I want to try," Stiles repeats his earlier promise. "Try."
"I know you do, sweetheart," Derek smiles. "So you're going to be a good boy and listen to my instructions. Aren't you?"

"Yes, sir," Stiles mumbles.
"I'll help you get dressed and I want you to pick somethings for us to eat for lunch. You can help me make it."
"Thank you," Stiles sighs.
"It'll be tough for the next couple weeks, but we can do it. I'm always here."

Stiles gets dressed with Derek's help, simply raising and moving whatever limbs Derek tells him to so Derek can pull the fabric over him.
Derek smiles warmly and fans his fingers out over Stiles' cheek.

"Good boy. Let's go raid the fridge," he grins. Stiles smiles down at his lap, moving his legs to feel the texture of denim against his skin. He makes a noise and shifts again. Derek shushes him by squeezing his shoulder soothingly.

While they're cooking Stiles manages to burn his hand, making a pained noise when Derek asks about it. He's all loose limbed and foggy headed.
"Oh Stiles, why didn't you tell me?" Derek asks and brings him over to the sink. Stiles shrugs, refusing to look up at Derek. Derek runs it under some cold water and leeches the pain away, ruffling his hair. "I'm calling your dad."
"No!" Stiles whines, eyes filling with tears. "I'll be a
good, promise."
"Stiles, I know you will," Derek soothes and cradles him against his chest.

They walk over to the couch still wrapped up in each other, Derek putting the phone on speaker.

"What's up, Derek?" The sheriff asks.
"Stiles had a nightmare and dropped again. I think he should stay here for now."

Stiles crumbles at his dad's sigh.
"That's fine, just make sure he's okay. I want him to be okay."
"I will," Derek says and they hang up.

Derek's hands hold Stiles' thighs and hoist him up so he can wrap his legs around him. Stiles is taking deep, shuddery breaths as Derek carries him around like he's weightless.

When they sit down again Stiles looks around, confused when he finds himself in the garden.

"I want to go and get some stuff from your house, some clothes, whatever you want. And you can see your dad, Scott and Melissa. Then we'll come home, watch a film maybe and go to sleep."
"A-are we going to make rules tonight?" Stiles asks shyly.
"Tomorrow, love. Tonight we an focus on helping you feel better."

So they do as Derek said they would and it really helps Stiles relax, helps him stay a bit blurry. The good kind of blurry that makes him feel want and loved and cared for.

In the morning Derek wakes up because the bed is cold and Stiles isn't there. He searches the whole house, making a pained noise when he cannot find or smell him at all. Stiles won't answer his phone and any sign that he was ever here is gone.

"Derek what's wrong?" Scott asks when Derek rings him. It's 5:30 in the morning.
"Stiles has gone missing."