Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/6943669.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Rape/Non-Con, Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Teen_Wolf_(TV)
  Relationship:
      Peter_Hale/Stiles_Stilinski
  Character:
      Peter_Hale, Stiles_Stilinski
  Additional Tags:
      Alternate_Universe_-_Canon_Divergence, TW_Season_1_AU, Alpha_Peter_Hale,
      Kidnapped_Stiles, Non-Consensual, adult/minor_sex, Power_Imbalance, Age
      Difference, Forced_Bonding, Molestation, Groping, Hand_Jobs, Rimming,
      Anal_Sex, Rough_Sex, Car_Sex, Forced_Orgasm, Pack_Building, Loss_of
      Virginity, Dark_Peter_Hale, Bottom_Stiles_Stilinski, Kidnapping
  Collections:
      Smut_Swap_2016
  Stats:
      Published: 2016-05-23 Words: 8762
****** Claw My Way Into You ******
by KeenWolf
Summary
     A bad deal, an empty road to nowhere, and a human who refuses to
     submit. There's more than one way to build a pack—to force a
     bond—Peter picks the one that's most enjoyable.
     (Season one canon divergence: Derek never returned to Beacon Hills,
     Scott is still a werewolf. When Stiles figures out the Alpha is Peter
     he ends up in terrible situation and is forced to make a desperate
     deal.)
Notes
     Just a super late gift! I hope you like it.
     Many thanks to Farasha and within_a_dream for the betaing!
Ever since Peter had unlocked the trunk and yanked Stiles out of it, the boy
had been talking. An endless barrage of questions, complaints, and out of place
high school anecdotes. Zoning back into the conversation, he realized the boy
was continuing his long-winded one-sided conversation detailing the attributes
of a young lady. Who, Peter was certain, the boy had never actually talked to.
“As fascinating as I find this Lydia person to be, you’re never going to have a
chance with her,” Peter said, cutting Stiles off.
“Thanks for the vote of confidence.” Stiles scoffed, trying to lounge back into
the seat, barely concealing how uncomfortable he was with the whole situation.
His leg hadn’t stopped jittering for miles, and he was constantly craning his
head around, trying desperately to find any road signs or landmarks he
recognized.
The overwhelming aroma of terror still clung to Stiles, even hours after Peter
had released him from the trunk. It made him feel centered, powerful; after
all, an Alpha should be feared.
“I can smell the desperation on you Stiles. If you’ve been touched by anyone
but your own hand I’d be shocked to hear it. Let’s talk about something else.”
“How about this?” The boy said, yanking at his wrist where it was securely
bound to the armrest with rope. “It’s going to look really bad for you if
anyone pulls us over.”
Peter looked out at the empty two-lane highway in front of them, before
smirking over at the boy. “I doubt it’ll be a problem out here.”
“They’ll be looking for me. They’ve got to know I’m missing by now.”
“I doubt that. They think you ran into the woods chasing after the animal that
attacked your father.”
“The animal that was you!” Stiles pointed at Peter, jerking his free hand in
the air in exasperation. “And really? They actually think I’d chase after a
mountain lion? What do they think, I’m stupid?” The boy waved this question
away. “Don’t answer that.”
Leaning back in the seat he started chewing on one of his nails.
The smell of his unease ramped up as Stiles’ leg started bouncing again. It had
to bother him, the idea that no one knew where he was or what was going to
happen to him.
Stiles turned and glared at Peter.
“Where are we going anyway?” Stiles asked again. “I’ve already missed my curfew
sleeping in the trunk of your car, thanks for that by the way. I can’t stay out
all day today too. I have school on Mon-”
“Not anymore,” Peter said, looking over at Stiles, relishing the way the boy
stilled like prey. “You didn’t forget you offered to join my pack, did you?”
“Back in Beacon Hills,” Stiles said, his voice raising in volume, “where I
live! You can’t just kidnap me for a road trip.”
“Road trip? No Stiles, I’m done with Beacon Hills.”
Stiles gaped for a moment, mouth moving silently before finding his voice. “So
what? You’re packing it in? After months of ruining our lives? Unbelievable!”
Stiles yelled, throwing himself back against the seat.
“I’ve finished marking the names off of my list, no thanks to all the
interference from you and Scott.”
“Glad to help. So, what the hell is this? Are you really kidnapping me, the
sheriff’s son? You think you can get away with that?” The confidence and
strength in those words were all a bluff. Stiles’ heart was racing, his eyes
darting around the car.
“People go missing everyday Stiles,” Peter said, letting his eyes sweep over
the boy, lingering in a way that clearly made him uncomfortable. The spark just
under the boy’s skin was still there, waiting to be tapped, to be bound. “Once
the binding ritual is finished, you’ll be pack, and you’ll follow me whether
you like it or not.”
“Wait.” The boy tilted his head in confusion. “Ritual? You didn’t mention a
ritual?”
Peter scoffed. “Did you really think I’d just let you go, after you offered to
join my pack in exchange for your father’s life? What did you think would
happen? That I’d send you home with a wave and a ‘see you later Stiles?’”
“Well yeah,” Stiles said with a forced laugh. “Yes?” He ran a hand through his
buzz cut. “Look! I’m not a creepy werewolf bent on murder. I don’t know how
this works.”
Peter almost laughed. It was so simple—all anyone had to do was make an offer
and a werewolf could connect that human to their pack. Now, just how that
person was bound… that was the fun part.
There were so many different ways to build a pack and even more ways that it
could go wrong and horrible. Even before the Hale pack burned, Peter had been
obsessed with those sordid tales of dark packs. After he’d killed Laura to
become the Alpha, he’d been so focused on revenge that he hadn’t given making a
pack much thought, other than biting Scott. But revenge had not fixed him.
Ripping out Kate Argent’s throat hadn’t changed anything. Peter was still
unstable and he knew it. The feeling that he was teetering on the edge of
madness dogged him.
A real pack was the only thing that could steady him, but he didn’t want a
regular pack—he wanted something darker. The drive to bite still gnawed at him,
but Stiles had rejected that offer, one of the many reasons Peter had locked
the boy in the trunk last night. Not only had that petty act blanketed his
growing need to complete the binding, but the sounds of Stiles panicked shouts
had soothed his anger. Still, logically he knew he didn’t want another beta
like Scott, one that would refuse to follow his orders. Not when binding a
human would do just as well. Maybe even better in some ways—keeping Stiles
human would leave the boy at his mercy. It was serendipitous that Stiles was so
willing to offer himself just to save his worthless father.
“But I can’t just leave. I have a life, Scott, school, Lydia,” Stiles paused
for a moment, “my dad.”
“Don’t worry Stiles,” Peter said moving his hand to the boy’s shoulder,
squeezing it, enjoying the way he could feel the power inside the boy reaching
out for him. “I’m sure this Lydia will manage to move on, she might actually
remember your name when you show up on the missing person posters around town.”
Stiles jerked away from Peter’s hand. “Real funny. What about our deal? My dad,
you just left him out there. He was hurt, how do I even know if you’re keeping
your end of the bargain?”
He didn’t. Peter could tell him anything and the boy would just have to accept
it, but Peter didn’t have to lie about this bit of information. “Your father’s
condition is stable. Just a few broken ribs and a concussion.”
Stiles still looked suspicious. “How do you know that?”
“I have a phone, Stiles. I received a message about it just this morning.”
Right before he’d let the boy out of the trunk. Peter didn’t need to keep his
word, but it was nice to know he had.
“There’s another person in your pack?” Stiles looked upset by this fact. “So
what? They get to stay in Beacon Hills while you kidnap me and take me out to
the middle of nowhere? That doesn’t seem fair.”
“It’s not the middle of nowhere.” But it was close to that. These roads were
deserted this time of the year. “It’s over a hundred miles away from your old
pack. I need to weaken your connection to Scott before I can make you mine.”
That wasn’t completely true. Scott had never finalized the bond with Stiles,
but there was enough of a connection that it was better to put a fair amount of
distance between the two of them. That way, even if Scott felt his connection
to Stiles break, he wouldn’t be able to tell what had happened or where Stiles
had gone.
“I’m connected to Scott?” Stiles broke into a grin for a moment before he
seemed to realize it wasn’t going to help him.
“It’s weak, but I don’t want any conflicts to your loyalty.”
Stiles fit all of Peter’s needs: smart, young, foolhardy, a loner. Even the
insincerity of Stiles’ desire, his duplicity, excited Peter. He was looking
forward to making Stiles make good on his promise no matter how much he’d
dislike it.
“That almost sounds reasonable. I don’t buy it,” Stiles said, and there—that
was the suspicion that had drawn Peter to him. Even back when Stiles had shown
up at the long term care facility to talk to his nurse, he’d questioned
everything he was told. “What’s the real reason?”
“I needed to get you completely alone,” Peter said with a smile.
Stiles fidgeted in his seat, rubbing his sweaty hand on his jeans. “Well,
that’s legitimately creepy. First Scott and now me, do you have a thing for
young boys?” It was said in an offhanded manner but Peter could smell the
sudden apprehension, as if the boy had just realized he was completely at
Peter’s mercy.
“I wouldn’t call it a thing,” Peter said licking his lips. “But you really
should have known better than to get into my car.”
Stiles’ whole body jerked like it was being electrocuted when Peter placed his
hand on his knee. It looked large, like it didn’t belong where it was, so Peter
slid it closer to Stiles’ crotch. He stopped only a few inches away. Yes, that
looked better. The terror on Stiles’ face was exactly what Peter wanted.
“Don’t look so shocked. You already knew I had a very hands-on approach,” Peter
said, breathing in deeply, enjoying the scent of Stiles’ panic.
“Wha-what are you doing?” Stiles said his voice cracking as he tried to move
away from the touch. Letting his claws extend out, Peter tapped them on the
inseam of Stiles’ pants. The boy stilled at the warning, like a rabbit caught
in the jaws of a trap.
“The requirements to bind a human into a pack vary wildly. But debauchery is
one of the most enjoyable. I’m not expecting much from you as part of my pack,
other than… entertainment.” The boy flinched at that statement, hopefully fully
grasping all the horrible things it included. Peter squeezed his thigh and
smiled at Stiles’ terrified expression. It was for too late for escape. “But
first I need get to know you better, feel you out.”
Stiles shook his head, eyes darting to the road and then back to Peter. “I
don’t- are you sure you want to do this right now, distracted drivers are over
75% more likely-” Stiles’ voice became high and shrill, cutting off, as Peter
slid his hand up against his crotch, cupping Stiles’ genitals. Peter dutifully
returned to watching the road as the boy jerked next to him, squirming with
nowhere to go. The hand that was not tied down grabbed at Peter’s arm but
couldn’t budge it, as Stiles’ legs pushed uselessly against the floor boards.
“Stop moving, Stiles. You wouldn’t want to get clawed down there, would you?”
Peter warned and glanced over to watch Stiles as he stilled, panting
desperately as he forced himself to relax. Stiles let go of Peter’s arm and
Peter waited until his free hand lay on the seat before he started slowly
stroking Stiles between his legs.
The boy’s mouth dropped open, his hand curling into a tight fist as he
shuddered. Strangled sounds escaped Stiles’ throat as Peter’s fingers pressed
and rubbed up and down the length of the boy’s dick. Peter reveled in the way
the flesh under his touch came to life, even as Stiles flinched and trembled in
revulsion. Closing his eyes, Stiles gasped a few deep, shaky breaths, his legs
twitching, as Peter fondled him.
Stiles had mostly tried to obey Peter’s order to keep still, but he just
couldn’t keep quiet. His voice was strangled. “This isn’t- I don’t want-”
“A shame, would you rather do this differently? I could put your mouth to
better use.” That shut the boy up, his teeth snapping shut so suddenly Peter
could smell blood where Stiles bit his lip as he shook his head, eyes wide and
panicked. “No? That’s good, I think you’ll enjoy this much more.”
Stiles’ eyes squeeze closed as he curled over, squirming in his seat. The smell
of the boy’s arousal mixed into the overwhelming scent of fear and anger,
making Peter’s mouth water. The desire to take, to hurt, grew with every
bitten-off noise Stiles made as his dick stiffened under Peter’s hand.
“No one’s ever touched you like this before, have they? No, of course not, if
they had you wouldn’t be so desperate for attention.” Peter said, a deep
chuckle rumbling out as the boy jerked his head up to glare. But before Stiles
could speak, he rubbed over the sensitive head of the boy’s dick making him
gasp, thighs tensing and trembling under the assault. “Don’t worry, Stiles, I’m
going to do whatever it takes to make you mine.”
“I don’t want this! I don’t want you. This isn’t affecti-” Stiles’ words cut
off as Peter dug his fingers in, squeezing the boy’s balls roughly, making
Stiles whimper in pain, his legs squeezing together uselessly.
“Of course not,” Peter said, “I don’t need you to like me to bind you. In fact,
I don’t want you agreeable. That would take away the joy of forcing you obey
me.”
“I knew yo-you were a monster. I just didn’t realize you were a child moles-”
Peter squeezed him again, laughing when Stiles yelped.
“I thought you had me all figured out, Stiles.” Stiles knew what Peter could
do. He’d been the one to piece it all together. He’d seen how easily he could
overpower Scott, how he’d almost killed the Sheriff when the man had tried to
stop him from tearing Kate Argent limb from limb. Only Stiles begging on his
knees, had stopped him then. While the boy had vastly misjudged Peter’s
intentions by getting in the car with him, he would be pack soon and leashed to
Peter’s desires. “You knew I was a monster, that a weak human like you couldn’t
hope to stop me from doing whatever I want, and yet here you are. You offered
yourself to me and this is what I want in exchange for your father’s life.”
Stiles was trembling under Peter’s caress, his breathing growing labored, his
body reacting. Power buzzed in Stiles, collecting under Peter’s hand just
waiting to be bound. “But I can give you some semblance of control.” Peter
smiled keeping his eyes on the road. “Why don’t you open your pants for me,
Stiles?”
Stiles shook his head. “N-no, no way.”
Peter took his foot off the gas and let the car decelerate, pulling the car off
the road and into a small clearing surrounded by bushes and trees. He
maneuvered the car around a thicket and stopped when they were completely in
the shade. The old road behind them was deserted, and even if someone drove by,
most likely they won’t be able to see them from the road.
Thirty miles back they’d passed an abandoned house. It had barely been a blip
on the road. Out here, deep in the woods, there wasn’t a person around for
miles and miles. Peter looked at Stiles and smiled, wide and dangerous, letting
his teeth get sharper and allowing the change to bleed into his eyes, coloring
everything red. The power waiting inside Stiles lit up under Peter’s enhanced
vision just as it had last night when the boy had thrown himself in front of
his father’s body and offered himself to Peter. “Would you rather I do
something more involved? You won’t enjoy it, it’d be a pain in the ass.”
Stiles violently shook his head. “No, that’s okay. I can-” Stiles licked his
lips nervously, glancing around before leaning away from Peter. “I can do it.
Okay. Just don’t-”
“Don’t what?” Peter asked, his fingers idly stroking Stiles’ dick. The boy’s
mouth clenched shut, his hand lifting and then faltering in the air. “Can you
even say it Stiles? Hmm?” The boy’s eyes darted around the inside of the car,
but there was no escape. His door wouldn’t open. Peter had made absolutely sure
to be prepared before he’d released Stiles from the trunk.
“Don’t worry, so long as you do what I ask I won’t need to fuck you. Now, do
you want me to cut your pants off?”
He chuckled as Stiles shook his head. His hand curling into a fist.
“Better get them open then,” Peter said, as Stiles glanced down where Peter’s
hand still cupped him between his legs, worrying his lower lip in
concentration. “I want to see everything.” Stiles’ heart was beating fast, too
fast, but he nodded and took a deep unsteady breath, straightening up.
Peter smiled and took his hand off the boy’s crotch, noting the way Stiles
sighed in relief but then stilled as Peter put the car in park and shut off the
engine. The sudden quiet made the boy’s racing heartbeat seem so much louder.
Peter settled in. He had all the time in the world.
Unbuckling the seatbelt, Stiles yanked at his t-shirt, pulling it out of his
pants to expose an inch of pale dotted flesh.
Stiles used his shaky hand to undo the button of his jeans, sliding down the
zipper. There was a dusting of dark hair on the boy’s stomach leading into his
underwear that was very distracting. Stiles pushed and pulled his pants down,
his progress slowed with only the use of one hand and completely unnecessary.
But Peter let the boy stall, using the time to drink in Stiles terror.
Stiles’ dick was tenting his briefs, half hard just from the stimulation of
Peter’s hand. The smell of Stiles’ arousal grew sharp in the car as the layers
were peeled away. The boy stilled in his seat, just breathing in and out, his
head angled down, body curled protectively over himself, before he straightened
up. Stiles turned to look directly at Peter and waited for him to meet his
stare before he said, “I don’t want to do this.”
“Part of you wants this,” Peter said, waving his hand at Stiles’ crotch. Maybe
the boy would have argued with him that it was just an sexual response to being
touched, but Peter didn’t give him the chance. “Pull them down.”
“You’re sick,” Stiles said, reaching down and finally pulling his underwear out
of the way.
The boy’s dick was nestled in a tuft of dark hair, the head smooth and
unprotected. It stood up almost hard, but the skin was still loose on the
shaft.
“I’m shocked to hear you think that, considering how willing you were to get
into my car,” Peter said. “Spread your legs wider.”
Stiles obeyed reluctantly, shuffling his legs a little more open, the hand not
bound to the door going white where it was digging into the seat. His heart was
beating out of control, breath coming in short pants, the scent of terror sharp
in the enclosed space. Stiles looked away, turning his face to the woods
outside, the long pale stretch of his throat bared as if an offering to Peter,
as if in submission.
Peter slipped his hand onto the boy’s bare hip, feeling Stiles jerk at the
touch, his Adam’s apple moving as he swallowed. The skin under his hand was
warm and soft, trembling like a skittish colt as Peter stroked up underneath
the boy’s shirt. The boy’s dick twitched, growing harder in spite of Stiles’
distress as the boy tried to turn further away. That wouldn’t do. Peter wanted
to see Stiles suffer.
“Pull your shirt out of the way.”
Stiles’ hand let go of the seat and fumbled around until he finally had to
actually turn back and look to grab the shirt, jerking it up and holding it
there, exposing his mostly hairless chest dotted with moles. Peter let his hand
run up Stiles chest, almost tasting the boy’s fear and shame. The magic that
would tie them together rested under his fingers, an electric current.
Stiles trembled, watching Peter’s hand as if it was a snake. He couldn’t keep
himself from responding to Peter’s touch and he certainly couldn’t hope to
fight back. The power Peter had over the boy was intoxicating. Peter took a
deep breath to steady himself. This next part had to be done with care.
Peter let his claws come out.
“Whoa, wait, don’t!” Stiles said, before Peter silenced the boy with a look.
“It won’t hurt,” he said, running one of the claws feather light down between
Stiles’ pecs as the boy froze, not even daring to breathe, eyes wide and
fearful. Using the claw, Peter drew a symbol onto the skin of Stiles’ chest,
barely breaking the skin at all. This was what would bind them together.
Turning his hand, Peter trailed the tips of his claws down Stiles’ skin,
stopping right before he reached the boy’s dick.
The feeling of the bond pulled taut in Peter’s mind, power pulsing between
them, causing the mark on Stiles to light up faintly with power. A startled
whimper escaped the boy’s lips as Peter pulled back.
“Wha- what’s happening?” Stiles gasped at the sensation, eyes going wide as he
arched his back, the mark flashing bright with power, his dick surging fully
erect without a touch as if the bond itself aroused him. Peter could hear the
boy’s heartbeat trip and then race out of control.
“Nothing to worry about. Just our bond setting up. Making you receptive to me,”
Peter said, licking his lips. Reaching down, he let a claw trace up Stiles’
dick, feeling the solid virility of the boy, making the bond flare with an
extra boost of power. When he removed his claw, Stiles slumped in the seat,
gasping deep breaths, his eyes wide and fearful, staring in confusion at his
dick, now hard and leaking.
Peter licked his hand, getting it wet, tasting Stiles on himself. Using the
same claw he cut a smaller symbol onto his tongue, opening his connection to
the bond and offering a little blood to the mix. The boy warily watched him,
flinching when Peter reached back over.
“Don’t look so worried,” Peter said, showing Stiles his human hand, “no more
claws. From here out it’s just a handjob.”
“Just a handjob?” Stiles squeaked out, putting a heavy amount of emphasis on
the word ‘just’ in bafflement.
“For now.”
“For now? What does that mean?” Stiles shrank back from Peter, the realization
plain on his face. “No.”
“You know what that means; you aren’t stupid,” Peter said, smirking at the
boy’s terror. Of course this wasn’t going to be a one-time thing. “But don’t
worry. For today, once you come it’ll be all over. You’ll be bound to me as
part of my pack.”
“I don’t want to be a part of your pack! I don’t want any of this.”
“I know, that’s the part I enjoy the most. Just think of all the fun we’ll
have.”
The boy froze, shaking his head in denial. “No.”
“You don’t have a choice.” Letting his eyes bleed red, he smiled, watching the
boy shrink in on himself, exposed and completely alone. Peter reached for
Stiles’ dick. Stiles flinched, closing his eyes, body tense and rigid as if he
was fighting himself. The boy’s dick was hard now, and it twitched when Peter
closed his hand around it, a little pre-come leaking as he rubbed his thumb
under the head, making Stiles tremble.
When Peter stroked Stiles’ dick, the boy gasped, a moan punched deep out of the
back of his throat, eyes flying open as if startled by it.
“Don’t look so surprised, it’s supposed to feel good,” Peter said. That didn’t
reassure Stiles, who shuddered and shook his head, biting his lip to try and
hold back his groans as his body surged under Peter’s touch. Peter wondered
just how much of the sensation was being enhanced by the bond as Stiles’
struggled to control himself.
Stiles arched in unwanted pleasure with every pump and twist of his hand. The
connection strengthened with each stroke, the magic bouncing between them as
Stiles’ dick stood hard and aching. His hips jerking up into Peter’s hand,
chasing the sensations as he gasped in desperate breaths.
Stiles’ eyes were wide and terrified, his hand clawing at the seat, struggling
futilely against his own reactions.
All of Peter’s senses went into overdrive. He could feel the pulsing heat of
the Stiles’ arousal coursing through the boy’s body. The smell of it was so
thick in the car it almost overpowered the terror and fear. The light outside
seemed to get brighter, and his vision sharpened enough to see deep into the
forest. The sounds of nature were now easy to hear, though still overpowered by
every little gasping, whimpering noise Stiles made. Every now and then, Peter
felt his focus sharpen, and could even hear the flow of the boy’s blood as it
rushed to flood the skin he was touching. Peter swiped his thumb over the
flushed, sensitive head of Stiles’ dick, touching along the almost invisible
line his claw had traced, ripping a startled moan out of the boy and making
Stiles flinch at himself. Peter watched the boy’s body shake, so he did it
again, chasing a bead of pre-come leaking from the tip. Stiles gasped, arching
his body, clenching his eyes closed as he bit his bottom lip to try and hold
the sounds in.
Peter could feel the boy’s resistance weakening as he stroked him closer and
closer to climax.
“Look at me,” Peter commanded, pulling his hand away from Stiles to lick it,
watching in satisfaction as the boy slumped in his seat, gasping for breath,
his dick red, hard, and flushed. The taste of Stiles’ arousal made the mark on
his tongue flare, power pouring in, as the bond opened wider. The boy turned
his head away, trembling in the seat next to him as the mark on his skin glowed
bright and the thick weight of magic filled the car.
When the boy didn’t obey his command, Peter reached for Stiles. The bond was
almost complete. All he needed to do was make the boy submit to him, surrender
to his arousal.
“Stiles, look at me,” he commanded, Alpha power bleeding into the words, making
the boy twitch—but still he looked away. “Look at me.” Stiles turned, his eyes
lost and dazed.
But before Peter’s hand could touch Stiles, the boy snapped to attention as if
he could feel the noose tightening.
“No,” Stiles said in a hollow voice, his eyes re-focusing on him, wide and
frantic, before he jerked himself away from Peter and launched himself at the
door with a cry. Pulling madly at his hand bound to the armrest, he desperately
yanked at the useless door handle and rammed his body against the door to no
effect. The bond stretched, tearing thin, the power rushing out of Peter like
water through his hands as Stiles rejected him.
“Let me out!” Stiles yelled. “I don’t want this. Help!”
Peter unbuckled his seatbelt. Reaching across the cab he grabbed the hand
Stiles swung wildly at him and held it in iron grip. Pinning it against the
boy’s seat, he grabbed Stiles by the neck and slammed his head against the
door.
“Don’t touch me. Don’t fucking touch me!” Stiles screamed, fury and anger in
his voice as Peter climbed over the console to hold him down. The bond
narrowed, weakening as if it had never been there until it was stretched thin
and gossamer, like a spider’s web. “Let me go!”
“Stop fighting me.”
“No, no, no,” Stiles said, continuing to struggle uselessly against Peter’s
enhanced strength until Peter shifted, his eyes glowing red and his teeth
sharpening, which finally penetrated the boy’s terror. Stiles froze under
Peter, his eyes wide, panting. “What are you doing to me?” he whispered.
“I’m making you pack, whether you want it or not,” Peter said. He could feel
the boy trembling as he leaned in, nosing at Stiles’ neck, feeling the boy
shake. When he bit down on the meat of the boy’s shoulder Stiles screamed, even
though Peter used only blunt human teeth.
Peter worried the bite but it wasn’t enough. The bond remained thin and weak,
but it hadn’t broken. His legs pinned Stiles to the seat, as he settled himself
into Stiles’ space. He licked down the boy’s neck, mouthing at the skin just to
feel Stiles shake.
“Get off me! You fucking pervert,” Stiles yelled. Peter cut through the ropes
that held Stiles’ other wrist to the door, grabbing both wrists in one hand, he
jerked Stiles’ arms up over his head. The boy looked good like that but it was
even better when he pulled the lever reclining the seat, stretching Stiles’
body out underneath him. Peter loomed over the boy, letting Stiles jerk and
struggle against him. Stiles’ dick was completely soft now, but Stiles’ big
eyes were hard and wet as he wiggled uselessly against Peter’s enhanced
strength, desperate to escape with nowhere to go. Peter waited out Stiles’
terror and anger until the boy stopped struggling, gasping and trembling under
him.
“Are you finished?”
“Fuck off,” Stiles said, his voice hoarse and broken. Peter smiled at that. He
had to give it to the boy—he had nerve.
He reached down, tugging Stiles’ shirt up, bunching it up under the boy’s chin
so he could run his fingers over the mark he’d clawed into the boy. The power
was still there, wanting to be used, but if he couldn’t make the boy submit
he’d have to force the bond.
“Stop touching me.”
“Make me.”
Stroking his hand up and down the boy’s chest, he let Stiles calm down before
he rubbed down hard on a nipple making the boy shiver. Stiles clenched his eyes
shut with a grimace as Peter rolled it between his fingers, he pinched it hard
to force a yelp out of the boy, making him buck in surprise.
“You fucking sick pervert,” Stiles said, struggling anew.
“Me?” Peter said, enjoying the way the boy arched into the sensation, gasping
and jerking to escape as he switched to the other nipple. “I’m not the one
that’s so responsive. Look at you, you don’t know whether you hate this or like
it. Do you?”
He let go of that nipple, leaning down over the boy so he could lick the little
nub, tasting Stiles’ fear and terror on his skin. Peter used his tongue to
reactivate the mark on his chest, the lines filling in with power once more as
he licked them. Switching things up he started to lick and suck on one nipple
while his hand pinched the other, pulling yelping gasps and strangled cries out
of the boy. Stiles struggled uselessly against his grip, arching in pain as
Peter played with the boy’s nipples until each one was red and sensitive, and
Stiles was whimpering at every gentle touch and lick. Peter leaned back,
looking down at the mess he’d made of Stiles, watching as the boy gasped in
deep breaths, trying to recover. Peter let go of Stiles’ wrists to reach over
and pocket the car keys out of the ignition before turning back to stare at the
boy.
“I’m going to give you a choice,” Peter said, Stiles flinched as he rubbed his
wrists.
“Really?” Stiles said, voice heavy with sarcasm.
“You can either lay there and let me finish getting you off without fighting
me, or I’m going to have to fuck you.”
Stiles’ mouth thinned into a hard line furiously looking at Peter, his body
tense and rigid underneath him. “You mean you’re going to rape me.”
“Of course.” Peter felt no shame in that desire.
Stiles shook under him, trembling as he closed his eyes and took a deep breath
before looking up, glaring at Peter.
“Go fuck yourself,” Stiles said, voice shaking, but with power in every word.
Laughing, Peter easily flipped the boy over, ripping a surprised, high-pitched
sound from Stiles and putting the boy’s bare ass on display. Pulling Stiles’
pants and underwear down with one hand, Peter trapped Stiles’ legs together.
The boy struggled, managing to fold his legs under him before Peter draped
himself over the boy, pinning him to the reclined seat so that his face was
mashed into the headrest, hands flailing around the back seat.
“I’m going to enjoy fucking you into submission,” Peter said, with a rumble of
Alpha power to his voice. Stiles struggled to get his arms under him to
scramble away, but Peter pressed a hand on Stiles neck, holding the boy’s head
down, cutting off his escape but enjoying the feeling of the boy’s body rubbing
up against his. The arch of Stiles’ back pushed his bare ass right into Peter’s
crotch, and even though Stiles was putting his all into getting away, Peter’s
enhanced strength easily kept the boy pinned. He moved his other hand to grab
Stiles’ hip, keeping him from pulling away as Peter pushed his crotch against
the boy. Thrusting his hips, he enjoyed the way Stiles trembled as Peter’s
trapped erection rubbed against the boy’s bare ass. The noises Stiles made were
incredible.
“I don’t want this!”
“Oh I know. I’m quite enjoying your struggle.” Groaning, Peter leaned down so
he could whisper into the boy’s ear, “It doesn’t matter how much you fight.
You’re going to be mine in the end.”
Releasing his hip, Peter pushed the boy’s shirt up to expose his back. Still
holding Stiles down by the neck, Peter let his claws come out. Stiles froze
with wide eyes, looking over his shoulder at them.
It was as if the world held it’s breath as Peter pressed his claws down on
trembling skin, cutting the binding symbols shallowly into the boy’s back. This
time, beads of blood welled up into red lines on the boy’s flesh. Stiles’
heartbeat raced out of control. When the last line was done, Peter could feel
it as the boy’s power leaked out of the symbol, escaping, unconsciously
reaching for something, desperate to complete the open connection. Stiles
shook, gasping in air as if he was underwater, his eyes wild in confusion.
“Wha- what are you doing?”
“I’m forcing you to bond with me.”
The scent of Stiles’ blood was powerfully addictive, but Peter held himself
back, watching the incomplete bond bleed slowly, ripping at the boy’s energy,
pulling away pieces of the boy’s spark. He could feel the pain on the boy’s
skin as the leakage ramped up, the need to be connected becoming unbearable.
“No!” Stiles screamed, a sharp gasping wail.
But there would be no refusing this.
Peter licked his claw, getting Stiles’ blood onto his own mark. The connection
snapped, opening wide between them again, but this time harsh and painful, the
magic slamming their energy together, tying Stiles to Peter. The power rushed
between them, setting the marks on Stiles’ back ablaze with light, making the
boy shriek, the sound cutting off as his teeth clenched together.
The bond expanded, blown wide open.
Peter gasped at the rush of power, undoing his pants and pulling them down,
desperate to touch himself. He kept his hand on the boy’s neck as Stiles arched
and jerked, feeling the magic ripping painfully through him. Finally, Peter
managed to get his pants open, his cock sprong out of his boxers hard and
flushed. The symbol had slowly dimmed in intensity, leaving black and red lines
on the boy’s back in its wake. The boy sobbed, writhing in pain. Licking his
hand, Peter stroked himself as the half-naked boy trembled and jerked in front
of him. It was almost as good as porn, and Peter put his fingers to his mouth,
sucking to get them nice and wet.
When the power had settled and the boy lay there gasping for breath, Peter
pulled his spit slick fingers out of his mouth and rubbed them into the boy’s
ass crack. He startled, yelping at the sensation, but was too weak to do
anything.
“Don’t,” Stiles gasped, jerking feebly, shivering as Peter stroked his fingers
up and down, getting Stiles’ asshole nice and slick before he grabbed a cheek
to expose the boy.
He could feel the bond pulsating under their skin, but it wasn’t quite
complete. Stiles had to submit.
Peter finally released Stiles’ neck and slapped his hand down on his wounded
back, anticipating the way Stiles jerked forward. When the boy moved up, Peter
grabbed his hip and pressed his face in between Stiles’ cheeks. Smelling the
boy’s rich scent and his own spit, Peter stabbed his tongue deep into the boy’s
tight little hole. Stiles squawked, scrambling weakly against the seat but
Peter easily held him in position so he could push the mark on his tongue
inside the boy. Between licking at the tight furl of his rim and stabbing his
tongue in deep, he easily worked Stiles open.
He pulled the boy’s cheeks apart with his thumbs, gripping his hips with
bruising force, loving the way Stiles gasped and jerked, struggling to escape.
The taste of the boy’s fear and desire coated his tongue. The power was
building up, sparked by Peter’s mark as it laved inside Stiles. The boy was
powerless to do anything but take it, to feel what Peter was doing to him,
knowing what was coming but completely at Peter’s mercy.
Stiles whimpered, his hole clenching as Peter’s tongue forced its way inside,
bucking with a yell when Peter sucked at his rim. The boy’s ass was slick and
dripping when Peter finally pulled back, Stiles slumped against the seat back.
His eyes were closed, mouth open, his whole body desperately gasping for air.
Stiles’ dick was getting hard again, power pooling, begging for release. Peter
rubbed his fingers against the slick hole, watching the boy’s eyes fly open
right before he pushed one all the way inside. Crying out, Stiles jerked
underneath Peter, his hole clenching down but still opening—so sweetly—to let
his finger sink in.
“No!” Stiles gasped, but Peter just smiled, twisting the finger, watching it
glide easily in and out. Peter didn’t give Stiles a chance to get used to the
feeling before pulling the finger out and stabbing two fingers back in, easily
pushing them deep inside. Twisting and fucking his fingers in and out, Peter
groaned at the view—the boy’s wet hole was opening for him, the bond mark
flaring bright on every thrust. The boy’s body ached to complete the ritual
even if Stiles would never accept it.
“Please stop! Please,” Stiles finally begged. Peter paused to consider this,
pulling his fingers out of Stiles body, relishing the way the boy panted under
him.
“You’re the one who chose this,” Peter said, fondling the boy’s balls,
wrenching a broken moan from the boy.
“You call this a choice?” Stiles gasped out. Peter felt the boy twitch in his
hand, the blood pulsing with power, once more desperate for release. The
symbols on the boy’s back flared, making the boy whimper in pain, panting, his
dick aching and hard.
Peter chuckled, letting go of the boy. “You offered yourself to me,” he said,
stroking his own straining cock, Peter pushed forward, relishing the way
Stiles’ eyes widened at the feeling of it rubbing against his ass crack.
“Not for this!” Stiles said, desperation saturating every word. “To save my dad
and Scott!”
“Two for one, and all you had to do was submit and let me you touch you.” Peter
keep hold of Stiles’ hip, keeping the boy still as he grabbed a cheek and
exposed him. His cock looked massive next to Stiles’ wet hole. Peter watched
the boy clench down as he rubbed the head of his cock on the boy’s rim. “Yet
you’re still fighting me. I’d almost think you wanted me to do this.”
The tip of his cock slid a little bit inside the boy; his hole easily spreading
open, wet and slick. Stiles jerked violently at the feeling, crying out. Peter
pulled out, rubbing his cock up and down the boy’s crack, sliding in the
wetness.
“Please don’t do this,” Stiles begged, eyes wide and wet, his body tense. The
bond quivered between them—the boy was just waiting to be claimed, to be
fucked.
“If you wanted to stop me, you should have taken the bite, Stiles,” Peter said,
before he pushed himself into the boy. Stiles grunted in surprise, his body
stretching wide around the head of Peter’s cock, opening up to welcome him in.
The boy’s hands scrambled against the seat as Stiles’ body arched, his hole
desperately clenching around Peter. It was wonderful. The boy was slick and
hot, gasping and crying out as Peter’s thick length slid relentlessly into him.
The bond sang all around Peter, throwing his senses wide open. Peter put both
hands on Stiles hips, to steady himself as he bottomed out, cock buried all the
way inside.
The bond sizzled between them. Stiles panted beneath Peter, shivering and
twitching.
Peter looked down, amazed to see Stiles stretched tight around him, the heat of
the boy encasing all of Peter. It was obscene how Stiles’ body accepted Peter,
but it wasn’t enough.
Pulling back experimentally, Peter watched his cock, slippery and wet, slide in
and out with a snap of his hips. He moaned at the sensation as Stiles
whimpered. The symbol on Stiles flared to life, strangling a gasp from the boy
at the dual stimulation. Peter leaned over, thrusting into the boy, quickly
picking up speed. The slap of his hips as they moved was loud in the enclosed
space. The way Stiles’ ass wiggled and bounced as his cock pounded in and out,
magic surging all around them, made everything feel sharper and stronger. The
smell of the boy’s terror, arousal, and humiliation made Peter pant
desperately, tasting the air. Greedily, Peter fucked him faster and harder,
needing to hear Stiles’ gasps rising in pitch. The boy was almost constantly
yelping as Peter pounded into him, the power building ever higher before it
crackled painfully and Peter paused, still deep inside.
Stiles gasped in huge, sobbing gulps of air under him, trembling as Peter
rubbed a hand up and down the boy’s back, fingers sliding painfully over the
bond marks, making the boy hiss and jerk. He forced Stiles to come down from
the edge. The boy couldn’t come first—not this time. Peter slowly rolled his
hips, rubbing his cock inside the boy, letting the power between them settle
back down before he started thrusting again.
This time Peter kept a hand pressed painfully into the bond mark as he fucked
the boy hard and fast, his fingers digging, in making Stiles whimper in pain
and arch his back. Peter could feel Stiles’ tight hot hole clench around him as
he slammed himself into the boy over and over. Stiles cried as Peter fucked
him, body dripping in sweat and trembling at the abuse. The flickering flare of
the bond pulled them closer and closer. Time seemed to stretch as they fucked,
Peter taking what he wanted without a care.
Peter stuttered to a stop, hips rolling in small motions, rubbing his cock deep
inside to make Stiles gasp in sharp cut off breaths while he groaned in
pleasure. Peter was so close, hard and aching. Everything was brighter, smells
were more intense, the boy’s heartbeat loud like thunder, and the magic between
them so energetic it felt like a hurricane under his hands. Peter pulled out
slowly and slammed in, a harsh quick stroke. Rubbing in deep, he repeated it,
pounding with punishing thrusts, feeling the boy’s body clench and give. The
sensation building and building until he slammed in and held himself still,
feeling himself crest on a wave of pleasure. Hips shuddering, Peter laughed,
coming deep inside the boy. He howled as the magic surged into him, flowing out
from where they were joined together.
He came back to himself, panting, curled over the boy, pinning him down,
fingers digging into the boy’s back, spread obscenely large over the bond mark.
The boy quivered underneath him, body trembling and gasping, his eyes staring
at nothing. Everything that for years had felt burned away and wrong in Peter
settled and evened out. He felt in control, powerful, and awake, his cock
buried deep inside his new pack member. What a wonderful way to wake up.
Peter smiled down at the boy, enjoying what was finally his. The bond sang
between them, begging for one more thing to finish it. He could deny it and
leave Stiles desperate and broken, always half complete. But it wouldn’t bind
the boy as tightly to him, and Peter wanted everything.
Bracing a hand on Stiles’ ass, Peter pulled his cock out, relishing the sharp
cry Stiles made as he slid free. He paused at the sight of Stiles’ wrecked
hole, looking so used and wet as it gaped open, the smell of Peter’s come
overpowering everything else as it started to leak out, before shaking his
head. It wasn’t over yet—Peter flipped Stiles easily, causing the boy to yelp,
hissing in pain when the symbol on his back pressed against the seat. Looking
up at Peter, tear tracks on his face, Stiles flinched, eyes wide, mouth open
and gasping for air.
Stiles’ skin was flushed, red all the way down his chest, the boy’s cock still
hard and leaking. Peter pushed up Stiles’ shirt as he leaned over to lick his
chest, taking advantage of Stiles’ stupor to capture his hands and hold them
down by his hips. Tracing the almost invisible claw marks, Peter pushed his own
power into the boy using the mark on his tongue to set the symbols on his chest
alight again. Stiles jerked in pain as the symbol flared.
“No, no, no,” Stiles babbled, struggling weakly against Peter’s hold. Dropping
back on to the floorboard, Peter nuzzled his way down the trail of hair to the
boy’s crotch. Licking a stripe up the boy’s dick, Peter swirled his tongue
around the sensitive head before opening his mouth and sliding it all the way
down. He sucked Stiles’ straining flesh, bobbing his head up and down as the
boy gasped, hips both jerking forward and flinching away from Peter, as if the
boy didn’t know what to do.
The taste of him was intoxicating. Peter mouthed the head of the boy’s dick,
chasing the beads of come as they leaked from the tip. He pressed the mark on
his tongue up against the hard flesh, feeling all the symbols on the boy flare
bright and painfully strong as his own power poured into Stiles. Sucking the
boy’s dick deep down his throat, Peter swallowed around him over and over,
pressing his nose to Stiles’ skin, feeling the boy tremble right on the edge.
Peter let go of Stiles’ hands so he could pull open the boy’s legs and shove
three fingers deep into his loose, sloppy hole, filled with come. Everything
crested and Stiles screamed, body snapping taut as he lost his struggle and
came in Peter’s mouth.
The bond crested, exploding between them, power bouncing back and forth before
settling under Peter’s skin, into his bones. He pulled back, letting Stiles’
soft dick fall out of his mouth, licking his lips and smirking as he took in
the boy’s haunted expression and heaving chest, the symbols slowly fading away,
but the taste of the boy’s come still lingering on his tongue.
Stiles’ thoughts started to filter over, a buzzing white noise as if the boy
had been emptied out. Pulling his fingers out of the boy’s ass, Peter crawled
up to loom over the boy, eyes flitting over Stiles, cataloging everything. This
had been Stiles’ first time and Peter had taken it. He didn’t want to forget a
thing about this. Peter rubbed away a tear that rolled down Stiles face before
he pulled up his own pants, tucking himself away and zipping up.
Human pack members needed more time to acclimate to a bond, especially one
forced on them. Smirking down at Stiles, Peter breathed in deeply, smelling how
the car reeked of their union. Stiles was stuffed full of Peter’s come, he
leaned over to nuzzle the boy’s neck and kiss Stiles’ lax mouth. There was no
resistance, only a small thread of terror when Peter pulled back.
“That wasn’t so bad was it? I think I’m going to enjoy having you in my pack,”
Peter said, running his hands up and down the boy’s body, feeling out all of
the places their binding had left marks of pain, fingers tracing the bruises
that Peter didn’t remember leaving on Stiles’ hips. “We’ll have to do this
again soon. There’s so much I have to teach you about giving me pleasure.”
Stiles sobbed and shook his head.
“Oh, I know you won’t enjoy it, but that’s not going to be a problem for me.”
Tugging the boy’s hips off the seat, Peter pulled his underwear and pants up,
righting the boy’s clothing and zipping him up. Setting the boy down, Peter ran
his hands up Stiles’ chest, flicking the boy’s sore nipples before tugging down
Stiles’ shirt, enjoying the way the boy flinched and trembled at the
manhandling but couldn’t coordinate his limbs enough to move away. Pulling up
on the lever, Peter left the seat slightly reclined.
He buckled the boy back in and shifted himself over into the driver’s seat,
settling himself down and feeling more in control than he ever had. Not even
biting Scott had made him feel like this. Pulling the car keys out of his back
pocket, he turned the car on and buckled himself in.
The sound of the car seem to wake Stiles up a little and he shuddered in his
seat. The feelings of shame, violation, helplessness, and fear chased each
other across the bond. Peter smirked at the boy, letting his smug satisfaction
roll back over to him, watching Stiles jerk away, pushing himself against the
door, staring at Peter in horror.
“You can feel me? Good, good.”
Stiles shook his head, but Peter just let his smile grow sharp. Horror radiated
out from the bond as the boy grabbed his head, eyes going wide. “What did you
do to me?” Stiles said, his voice raspy and shrill.
“I made you a part of my pack.”
“I didn’t feel anything like this with Scott.”
“Of course not, he didn’t want to control you. Don’t worry, he’ll never know,”
Peter said, letting the feeling of ownership and possession leak through the
bond along with flashes of all of the ways Peter could make the boy kneel.
“After all, you’re a part of my pack now—and you’ll never see him again.”
The boy started trembling, curling in on himself. Peter could hear his
breathing go sharp and panicked, the smell of his terror so rich and soothing.
Stiles’ mind was crowded with negation and fear. Terror took over and Peter
felt so powerful. A loop of Peter raping Stiles in so many different wonderful
ways spiraled out of control from Stiles’ mind, and Peter felt himself get hard
instantly. Stiles couldn’t control what he was sending over yet, and Peter
reveled in being able to read him like an open book. All his fears on display.
Peter placed his hand on Stiles’ thigh again, soaking up the boy’s horror and
revulsion, the loop becoming more fraught. So many great ideas. Peter couldn’t
wait to try them out.
“Don’t worry. You’ll get used to it,” Peter said.
Backing the car out of the little clearing, Peter looked both ways down the
empty stretch of road before he pulled on to the highway. He didn’t look back
as he drove them further and further away from Beacon Hills.
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