Mischief Mondays Chapter 20: Stetopher - Praised and Pampered, a teen wolf fanfic

Teen Wolf || Stetopher || Teen Wolf || Praised and Pampered || Teen Wolf || Stetopher || Teen Wolf

Title: Praised and Pampered – Mischief Mondays Series

Tags: m/m/m, polyamory, fluff, praise kink, teasing, explicit intercourse, anal, double penetration

Main Pairing: Chris/Peter/Stiles

Teen Wolf Characters: Mieczysław 'Stiles' Stilinski, Chris Argent, Peter Hale

Prompts: sharing / double penetration

Summary: Peter and Chris realize Stiles has a praise kink and they love to watch his reactions. Stiles is fairly sure he is going to die, because Peter and Chris keep praising him for absolutely no reason and it is doing things to him that he doesn't entirely understand.

Praised and Pampered

Mischief Mondays Series

Chris and Peter both realized that Stiles had a very strong praise kink the same day.

It had started after Chris freed Boyd and Erica from the basement and brought them back to Derek. When Chris and Allison agreed to stay in Beacon Hills, because she cared too much about her friends and her boyfriend. They stayed and got involved in the pack. But Derek wasn't entirely a fan of the Argents, and he still wasn't a fan of his uncle being back alive either, so he assigned both Chris and Peter to train the betas, something Derek himself had clearly been struggling with. The more experienced wolf and the trained hunter were fit for the job. They'd resented it at first, but knew they had to work to gain the pack's trust if they wanted to be involved, and both of them felt like they had no other choice, for different reasons; Peter needed to avoid becoming feral again and Chris refused to have his daughter put in danger on her own.

It happened about a month into training the betas that Stiles first managed to flip Chris and pin him to the ground with a dagger to his throat. Chris had looked up at the boy both surprised and impressed and he expressed it by praising Stiles, telling him how good he had done. Now, Chris only saw the reaction because Stiles' face was mere inches from him. The hitch of his breath, the blowing pupils, the way something hardened and poked his stomach where Stiles was sitting on top of him. Peter noticed because the aptly dubbed Creeperwolf rarely let his attention stray from Stiles.

It had been a cause for even more tension between Chris and Peter, at first, since they'd both noticed it that same day – and noticed that the other noticed too. Retrospectively, it was a little funny how both Peter and Chris became protective of the boy, determined to protect Stiles from the other. Peter had been obsessed with Stiles since he had kidnapped him from the lacrosse field, certain that Stiles would be the perfect choice to be his mate. Chris' own obsession with the boy had started in the hospital, when the fierce little thing had snarled at him, completely unthreatened by the hunter who had him pinned to a wall, instead throwing Kate's crimes in his face.

Both their infatuations with Stiles only got worse after they started training the pack. And it got incredibly hard to fight after they realized the boy had a very strong praise kink. Maybe it also got worse because they'd started a bit of a competition with each other. Both of them had liked Stiles quietly for themselves and now someone else was aware of their desires and someone else had their eyes set on Stiles. Peter and Chris started competing for Stiles' attention, showering him in praise.

Two months into their competition, Peter and Chris ended up in bed together for the first time. Temper had boiled over and Stiles' tempting reactions were leaving them both horny and desperate. It worked, to rid themselves of some of the built-up tension. It also worked to bring the two closer. They started to view their desires for Stiles as common ground, instead of a competition anymore.

Not that they stopped teasing their boy, even as their hook-ups became more frequent and perhaps evolved into more than just hook-ups. Instead of trying to best each other to show who would be better for Stiles, who was more worthy of Stiles, they started to reward each other. Whoever managed to get the most mouthwatering reaction from their boy got a reward in bed.

/break\

Stiles was slowly losing his mind. It was leaking out of his dick, actually.

It'd started during training, the first time he managed to pin Chris, though 75% of that had been pure luck at that point really. Chris had smiled up at him, so soft and warm and proud, and told him Well done, Stiles, I'm proud of you. And Stiles' whole body did a thing that it had never done before. All needy and horny and like the world faded and only Chris' approval mattered.

Stiles did his research on it and figured out that he, apparently, had something called a praise kink. He also figured out why, because he wasn't stupid. All his life had been an uphill battle of approval. His ADHD, his lack of focus and endless rambling and flailing, had led to much disapproval. He was an annoyance to the majority of his teachers. For a long time, his dad was too drunk to really care much to show his approval and after that, especially lately, in the past year, Stiles had just been one big walking disappointment for his dad, always lying. Friends? He only had Scott for most his life, now he had so many other friends that he could let down one way or another. And competing with a group of supernaturally enhanced werewolves and a badass huntress and a literal genius…? He was just the awkward, rambling human who couldn't fight (yet) and didn't have superpowers.

So, yeah. Stiles was well-aware where that praise kink came from. What he was trying to figure out was if there had been that much praise before, or if he was just acutely aware of it now that he was aware of his praise kink? Because Chris and Peter both just kept praising him. During training, whenever he nailed a move or improved in some way. For all of the research he did for the pack, whenever he figured something out first and helped save the day that way. Even during pack dinners, whenever it was Stiles' turn to cook (Stiles, Peter, Boyd and Chris alternated who cooked for the pack during pack night). The other day, when the Jeep was in the shop, Chris had just picked Stiles up when he picked Allison up too and the two teens had talked about the math exam they'd gotten back that day and Chris had praised him for how well he'd done on his exam.

Every damn thing that Stiles did good on, Chris and Peter would praise him. Well, okay, maybe others did too. Allison had congratulated him for the math test too, and the rest of the pack complimented him for his cooking. And while it did please him to get praised by others, it was only the praise from Chris and Peter that completely sent Stiles into a horny spiral of despair.

It wasn't so bad at first. Maybe because he hadn't been as aware of it? But now he felt like their praise was just everywhere, like he couldn't go a day without Chris' deep, dark voice telling him how good he was doing, or Peter's voice in a near purr telling him what excellent work he was doing, and he was just left achingly hard and needy to take care of the problem alone at home.

Chris and Peter and their kindness were killing him. He knew it was probably more like pity from Chris, after all, Stiles was the token human in a pack of badasses (feeling even more so since they realized Lydia was a freaking banshee), so Chris probably thought Stiles needed more encouragement to not lose hope with all the powerhouses in the pack. Peter, honestly, Stiles was fairly sure the wolf could smell exactly what the praise was doing to Stiles and the bastard was just tormenting him for personal entertainment. Peter always acted exceptionally bored during pack meetings, only ever engaging with Stiles and, as of late, with Chris.

Stiles wondered if the two thought they were being subtle and he knew that the majority of the pack hadn't caught on, but Stiles had watched the gradual shift in their dynamic. How animosity and resentment had turned into some physical altercations and how they slowly grew closer, until the fighting turned more into banter. Also, Stiles had caught them making out a couple of times when he was doing research with them both and they took a little too long getting snacks.

So, yeah. Stiles was totally dying from blue-balls because of a stupid praise kink he had no control over and his even more stupid crush on the both of them, which definitely got worse after he noticed the praise and it got absolutely unbearable after he noticed the two were an item, because now he kept thinking about Chris and Peter together and it was killing him.

/break\

"I think it's time we call it a night," Peter whispered gently.

His eyes were on Stiles, because the boy's pretty doe-eyes had been half-lid for the past half hour, a pencil loosely hanging out of his tempting lips. He wasn't even chewing or sucking on it (if Peter believed in conspiracies, he'd say that Stiles' oral fixation existed specifically to torment him). Stiles was definitely past the point of concentration. Lydia and Allison had ducked out of research an hour ago already. It was how their pack usually split duties whenever they faced a threat.

Derek and the turned betas would be patrolling town to make sure it was safe and figure out where the current threat might be hiding, while the humans and Peter stayed back to do research. Peter had first gotten out of action with the flimsy excuse of his recent resurrection, but then him and Stiles had worked together oh-so beautifully figuring out what the vault was made of and allowing Scott and Derek to free Cora without major complications, after the Alpha Pack had taunted them with holding her captive. Intel and planning were important, Derek understood that, so somehow, Peter and Stiles became research central. Depending on what kind of threat it was, Chris and Allison would join the patrol, but whenever they weren't entirely sure what it was yet, the pack agreed that the wolves with their extra strength and healing were better suited for recon.

Peter delighted in it, even more so when it wasn't an immediate or major threat and research belonged all to him and Stiles (and, more often than not these days, Christopher). Because it meant he could shower his boy in as much praise as he wanted without any other nosy werewolves perhaps smelling the delicious treat that was Stiles' arousal.

But as much fun as these research nights were, he could tell that their boy needed some sleep. Chris on Stiles' other side grunted his agreement and reached out to rest a hand on Stiles' knee. Their boy made a sleepy little noise and near instinctively leaned more into Chris.

"No," Stiles protested, interrupting himself with a yawn. "I can do more. We need…"

"We need you well-rested and at your best, darling," Peter curled his fingers under Stiles' chin to make the boy look up at him. "You can barely keep your eyes open. At this rate, you'll miss more information than you'll be able to take in. And that's just not my clever boy, mh? You are so bright and you always figure everything out, but even your brain needs breaks. You worked so hard and we're both very proud of how dedicated you are to your work, but right now, we'd be much happier with you if you took a break and rested. Please, be good for us?"

Peter may or may not be addicted to the syrupy sweet scent of Stiles' happy arousal. Praise made their boy all soft and sweet, the natural note of honey from his scent spiking and making Peter want to drown in that sweet honey. Praising Stiles might be addictive.

"Maybe you're right," Stiles admitted after a long moment, slowly getting up. "I should go home."

Chris used his hand on Stiles' thigh to force the boy back down onto the couch. It wasn't hard, Stiles was clearly tired enough to not put up much of a fight. Peter let his hand slip from Stiles' chin to the back of his neck, giving it a gentle squeeze. A content sigh came from the boy.

"You're not driving, doll," Chris stated, in his firmest voice. "You'll crash your Jeep. You're staying at the house tonight. That's why everyone has a room."

After the pack rebuilt the Hale House – or rather, built a new Hale House, one that fit this Hale Pack's needs – everyone got a bedroom there. Even though the majority of the pack had their own homes and only Derek, Peter, Cora and Isaac actually lived at the house, it was important that all members of the pack knew that the pack house was their home too.

"But the upstairs is so far away," Stiles glowered a little. "I'll just sleep on the couch."

"Stiles," Peter heaved an exasperated sigh. "What did we just say? You need your rest. The couch is not rest. Good boys who work so hard to keep their pack safe deserve to sleep in a bed."

"Peter," Stiles echoed Peter's sigh (even though he smelt so beautifully aroused and happy). "You have to make compromises. Unless you wanna carry me to bed, be happy I am agreeing to slee-"

The sentence ended in a yelp when Peter simply picked him up bridal style. Oh, if Stiles thought Peter would pass up an opportunity to carry his boy, he was sorely mistaken. Stiles made a yelp and the sweetness of his happy arousal mixed with that delicious spicy note that Peter craved so much. Him and Chris only ever got a taste of that during training, it was the way Stiles smelt when he was turned on by their strength. Every time they pinned Stiles during training. Their boy was definitely into being manhandled and Peter would be more than happy to indulge him.

"Christopher!" Stiles yelped, looking over Peter's shoulder. "Control your boyfriend!"

Peter froze on the spot, two steps up the stairs. He could hear the sharp intake of breath from Chris too. Stiles grumbled softly and nuzzled against Peter's chest. By now, Chris had caught up to them, looking from Peter to Stiles with a near worried look. The two of them were keeping their relationship on the down-low, partially because of Allison, partially because of the rest of the pack. Neither of them could ask Stiles about it though, because the boy had fully fallen asleep.

/break\

Stiles opened his eyes and just immediately knew he was still asleep, because Chris was on his knees in front of him, peeling Stiles' jeans off of him, while Peter was a solid, warm presence against Stiles' back holding him upright. How many of his dirty dreams started out like this…? Every time they would shower him in painfully much praise, he'd slip into these silly little fantasies about them taking him to bed, taking him apart and showering him in praise and attention in bed.

"Back with us, baby?" Chris' voice was so low and dark and warm.

It made Stiles shudder a little and arch back against Peter. "Mh… Still sleepy…"

"That's why we're undressing you," Peter chuckled, his warm breath tickling his neck, while the sound vibrated through Stiles because he was back to chest against Peter. "We thought it'd be more comfortable to sleep without the jeans, darling."

...Ah. Not a sex dream then. He'd nearly fallen asleep downstairs. They brought him up to bed. Disappointed by that, Stiles tried to curl together a little, just to have Chris tap his leg.

"Be good and stop moving," Chris requested and Stiles was quick to obey. "There, good boy."

"So good for us," Peter growled lowly into his ear. "Look at you, letting us take care of you. So good, we know you're not good at accepting help, we're so proud of you letting us take care of you. You're doing wonderful, sweetheart, just let us take care of you."

Stiles' bones turned into jello and he fully melted at the sweet words that lulled him into that safe, content feeling that he craved like oxygen by now. Gods, how much he wanted them to take care of him. But not as the weak pack human who needed to be pampered. He wanted them to want him.

"Hey now," Peter's voice softened into concern. "What just happened in that pretty little head of yours? You smell all sour and miserable, I don't like that, darling."

Chris finally freed him of his pants and then maneuvered Stiles' legs up onto the bed. This felt so nice, he loved being this close to them, loved when they took care of him. His eyelids fluttered shut and he allowed himself to imagine all the other ways they could take care of him.

"Stiles, you're still sitting on Peter's lap," Chris pointed out, sounding amused.

"Comfy," Stiles mumbled sleepily, before giggling a little. "Comfywolf."

"I'll take it over Creeperwolf," Peter drawled playfully. "Up you go, darling."

"No—o," Stiles whined and wrapped his arms around Peter's neck. "Comfywolf. Please?"

"Please?" Peter repeated, voice wavering. "Now that's a word you don't use often."

"Our pretty boy has been so good for us, he worked so hard, I'm sure he deserves a reward," Chris mused teasingly, before his fingers started running through Stiles' hair. "What do you want, baby?"

Stiles was fairly sure he was half-asleep because our pretty boy was definitely from his fantasies. "Cuddles? The Comfywolf seems good for cuddles."

"Anything you want," Chris pressed a kiss to Stiles' forehead and yep, definitely a dream.

And then the hunter got up and no that was wrong. Frowning, Stiles reached out to grab him.

"Cuddles?" Stiles requested again, looking up at Chris with a pout.

"Just how long have you not slept, Stiles?" Chris frowned concerned, cupping Stiles' face.

Squinting, Stiles tried to think real hard. "...It's Tuesday, right?"

Chris made a very devastated noise and wrapped Stiles up in his arms. "It's Thursday."

A T day! He wasn't that far off. Yay, him. Yawning widely, Stiles snuggled up to them both.

/break\

Chris loved all the dirty little ideas him and Peter would whisper at each other in bed. The things they would do to their boy if they got to take him to bed. Falling asleep with Stiles snuggled between them was something that came up more during lazy mornings, but it had come up a lot. And it felt even better than either of them had imagined.

"I thought that our praise was working on subtly coaxing him into a healthier schedule," Chris heaved a sigh, nose buried in Stiles' hair, breathing deeply. "Seems we aren't doing good enough."

Peter grumbled his agreement, his arms around Stiles tightening. "We'll do better."

"You're trying to manipulate me into a healthier schedule?"

Both of them tensed and turned to look at their boy. Those beautiful, big, brown doe-eyes blinked up at them with a vicious glare. Chris found himself frozen in place, staring at their boy.

"Subtly coax, was Christopher's choice of words," Peter argued. "Manipulate is such a harsh word."

"Really? I thought 'manipulate' was your favorite pastime," Stiles snarked, glaring hard. "I just really thought we were past the part where you try and manipulate me. I thought we were friends."

Stiles pushed himself off Chris to sit up, looking both angry and hurt. With a heavy sigh did Chris run his fingers through his own hair, wondering how they could fix this. Before Stiles had a chance to get out of the bed did Peter wrap his arms around the boy's waist to hold him in place.

"We are friends, Mieczysław. Do not ever doubt that we care deeply for you," Peter growled softly.

"Caring for you is why we're doing this, Stiles," Chris sighed again. "And I'd prefer to think of it as… a reward system rather than manipulation. We've been praising you whenever you did good, including good behavior, and after a while, we noticed that you're more likely to take lunch breaks if we praise you for it. You may forget to eat while on a research binge, but you do remember that you… crave praise more, so you eat. It's a win-win situation."

"Apart from the utter humiliation that my friends noticed my praise kink and have been playing me like a fucking fiddle to make me eat and sleep," Stiles glowered, a slight pout on his lips.

"Which part's worse?" Peter asked, voice low. "That it worked, or that we're just 'friends'?"

"W… What?" Stiles tensed in the wolf's arms, looking wary.

Yet another sigh escaped Chris as he locked eyes with Peter and saw the look on his wolf's face. It was time to come clean, wasn't it? They'd banked on Stiles not knowing about his own praise kink, or realizing what Chris and Peter were doing. Right now, it seemed like they were chasing their boy away, alienating him – and that was the last thing Chris wanted. He'd rather tell the truth.

"We didn't start out using your praise kink to make you live healthier," Chris admitted. "We just… thoroughly enjoyed your pretty reactions. Stiles, you are so responsive. Your blushes, the way your pupils blow and your bright eyes turn all dark, that little hitch of your breath and how you'll lick your lips, mouth open and panting… It's pure temptation, baby."

Stiles was staring at him with those pretty, big doe-eyes of his, cheeks flushed brightly. Peter was growling softly, rubbing his nose along the span of Stiles' neck. Chris reached out to rest his hands on Stiles' knees, very slowly pushing them up over Stiles' thighs as Chris leaned in closer.

"We want you, Stiles," Chris put it plain and simple. "But we know it's a bad idea, so we tried not to act on it. You're friends with my daughter. You're the same age as her. You're the son of the sheriff, who would certainly be quite motivated to shoot these two middle aged men lusting after his son. We're all in this pack, we work together closely and the last thing I'd want is to make you uncomfortable in the pack, with us. It's not a good idea, for all of these reasons."

Stiles kept staring at him, his eyes even wider somehow. The boy shuddered when Chris' hands wandered up further and he leaned in even more, tilting his head some. He gave Stiles every chance to back out, but instead, Stiles grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and pulled him in that last inch. That sweet, soft mouth fit perfectly against Chris' and when he traced those lips with his tongue, Stiles willingly opened up and let him in, giving himself to Chris. Stiles mewled into the kiss when Peter's hands wandered beneath the boy's shirt, his fingers finding Stiles' nipples to pinch and tease.

"Don't you make the sweetest noises?" Peter asked lowly. "Will you be as responsive in bed as you are when we praise you, sweet thing? So pretty, so responsive, aren't you?"

"Stiles," Chris panted softly when they parted. "I need you to tell us what you want."

"You," Stiles gasped out, his fingers tightening in Chris' shirt. "I want you so badly."

"Only me?" Chris raised his eyebrows. "Or both of us? And we need you to understand that there isn't a wrong answer here, baby. We want you to know that it's okay if you only want one of us."

"Yes," Peter's voice was more honest than most other times. "I wouldn't want you to feel like you have to be with me, I would never want that, darling."

Before he had a chance to pull his hands out from underneath Stiles' shirt did Stiles grab the hands through the shirt to keep them pinned against his chest, one of Stiles' hands still holding onto Chris.

"No, I want you both," Stiles declared firmly. "I want you both so much, it isn't funny anymore. And it got even worse after you started praising me all the time!"

"Yeah?" Peter grinned wickedly, lips dragging over Stiles' neck again. "Tell us about it."

"Do you know how much I've been masturbating in the past three months?!" Stiles turned enough to glare at Peter. "I'm glad I can manage to make it to the fucking shower after a training session. Chris with his gravely voice telling me how good I did and I just come apart at the fucking seams."

"Yeah, baby?" Chris growled, pleased. "You wanna be good for me so badly, you come apart at the seams just because I praise you? But you're so good for us all the time, doll."

Stiles keened softly, bucking up against him. Peter made that content noise that indicated Stiles smelt particularly delicious right now. The look on Chris' face softened. His hands finally reached Stiles' hips, grabbing the waistband of the boy's boxers.

"Can we have you?" Chris asked, getting lost in Stiles' honey-whiskey eyes.

"You already have me," Stiles made a desperate sound. "But if you're asking if you can fuck me? Then yes. The answer is yes, definitely yes, please, fuck, I want you inside me so badly."

Chris couldn't hold back the growl at these words. Did that boy not realize how much he was affecting both Chris and Peter? The look on Peter's face was pure, raw hunger.

"You can have us," Chris promised with a smile, kissing Stiles again.

"Hey. Share. I haven't gotten a single kiss yet," Peter growled with a pout.

Stiles made an amused noise and twisted in the wolf's hold so he was straddling Peter, his arms around Peter's neck. The two kissed deeply and it was perhaps the hottest thing Chris had ever seen. His hands wandered down Stiles' back and grabbed the boxers' waistband again, pulling them down over Stiles' ass this time. And what a pretty ass that was. Chris grabbed two hands full, squeezing and kneading until Stiles was moaning into his kiss with Peter.

"Can I have you both?" Stiles asked, panting softly.

"I believe Chris just promised you that, darling," Peter smirked teasingly. "Don't tell me one kiss from me was enough to rob you of your brain cells? What flattery."

Stiles snorted at the wolf. "No, I mean can I have you both at the same time?"

The teasing turned into more confusion. "That is what we are offering, sweetheart, yes."

Groaning in frustration, Stiles leaned his forehead against Peter's shoulder. "I want both your dicks in me at the same time, Peter, why are you making me spell it out."

Well, now it was on Chris and Peter to lose all of their brain cells as they both stared at their pretty boy. Stiles furrowed his brows, visibly growing nervous as he looked from one to the other.

"Was that weird? Should I not have asked for that? Do you not want that?"

Reaching out, Chris cupped Stiles' face and brought him in for a kiss to silence him. Stiles relaxed in his grasp. Peter growled eagerly, dragging his lips over Stiles' shoulders, marking him up.

"Darling, you have no idea how much we'd want this," Peter promised darkly. "You just… surprised us with that request. But you can have anything you want from us."

"Okay," Stiles nodded slowly, looking from Chris over to Peter. "So… can we have sex?"

Peter and Chris shared a look and a chuckle before they happily finished undressing all three of them. Peter laid down on the bed and pulled Stiles on top of himself, legs on either side of the wolf. It allowed Peter to kiss him and run his hands over Stiles' back while Chis sat down between both their legs. Peter handed him the lube without even looking away from their boy. Smirking amused, Chris lubed his fingers up while Peter grabbed Stiles' cheeks and pulled them apart for him. A cute little noise escaped Stiles when the air hit his now exposed hole.

"I need you to relax for me, baby," Chris requested lowly. "Be good for us?"

"Always," Stiles keened, burying his face in Peter's neck in embarrassment.

"Of course," Peter whispered fondly, kissing the top of Stiles' head. "You're always so good for us."

A high, needy noise came from Stiles, making Chris smile. Chris was gentle and patient as he opened Stiles up for them, knowing he'd need thorough prep if he wanted to take both of them. That pretty little pink hole easily opened up for him, sucking his fingers in so beautifully. And the noises that boy made while Chris' fingers worked him open. Stiles practically melted on top of Peter, until he was desperately begging them to fuck him. And then Chris took a couple more minutes, before he had mercy on their boy and pulled his fingers out. He carefully guided Stiles onto Peter's cock and slipped one finger back in alongside Peter to pull his hole open enough so he could push his own cock in too. Stiles tensed between them and Peter and Chris did their best to shower Stiles with praise and reassurance until their boy relaxed between them and started rocking against them.

"So good, you're taking us so well, baby," Chris kissed Stiles' neck. "Beautiful, you're so perfect for us, so tight, you feel just amazing around us, doesn't he, Peter?"

"Perfect for us," Peter agreed, nuzzling Stiles' throat from the front. "Our perfect boy."

Stiles was a positive mess of pleasure and happiness while Peter and Chris fucked into him, stretching him and taking him apart until he came hard, overwhelmed by his own orgasm. Peter and Chris held him upright between them, fucking him through his orgasm until they also came. And after, they gently laid him down and cleaned him up, peppering him with more praise and love.

"Dating you guys is going to kill me, isn't it?" Stiles whispered softly. "You're gonna wreck me with all that praise and pampering and care and stuff."

Chris smiled warmly at him and kissed him in reply, while Peter growled his agreement.

~*~ The End ~*~

Author's note: I honestly was a lil lukewarm about the prompt because Stetopher and doubling is such a given that it felt like just another smut scene repeat. And then I got a, ah, very inspiring comment on another fic of mine about Petopher using Stiles' praise kink against him and I mashed these two togeher and this is the result ;D Thanks for the inspiration, LunaStories 3