[ stiles knows he has no power here, but he does have his words, and he's relatively sure peter won't hurt his prize if it mouths off at him. he's only acting on assumptions and percentages and guesses, though—and he can't help the involuntary shudder than rolls through him at the thought of being subjected to another touch, another caress, of never seeing his dad again. a while ago, he'd wanted to vomit and shout, had hit the cold stone shaking, but he's internalized it all now, accepted it, willing to go through with whatever this may lead in order to keep everyone safe.
but fuck his village. fuck them for letting him go, for sending his friends. if he ever makes it out of here alive, he's going to have words with the asshats in charge of that little operation, and give them a piece of his mind (and fists, if he's lucky. if he's lucky.)
and fuck peter too. his honey-voice and soothing gestures are anything but to stiles, and he'd rather gnaw the expression right off of peter's face before succumbing to his—his charm, his touch, him.
wolf. savage. ha. ]
Sorry, I thought those two things weren't mutually exclusive. [ stiles swallows, swallows back fear and anger, and looks peter in the eyes even as his heart beats rabbit-quick under peter's heavy hand. ] I want to see them.
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110% SID APPROVAL RATING
but fuck his village. fuck them for letting him go, for sending his friends. if he ever makes it out of here alive, he's going to have words with the asshats in charge of that little operation, and give them a piece of his mind (and fists, if he's lucky. if he's lucky.)
and fuck peter too. his honey-voice and soothing gestures are anything but to stiles, and he'd rather gnaw the expression right off of peter's face before succumbing to his—his charm, his touch, him.
wolf. savage. ha. ]
Sorry, I thought those two things weren't mutually exclusive. [ stiles swallows, swallows back fear and anger, and looks peter in the eyes even as his heart beats rabbit-quick under peter's heavy hand. ] I want to see them.