Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/13324926.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      No_Archive_Warnings_Apply, Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Teen_Wolf_(TV)
  Relationship:
      Peter_Hale/Scott_McCall
  Character:
      Peter_Hale, Scott_McCall_(Teen_Wolf)
  Additional Tags:
      Plot_What_Plot/Porn_Without_Plot, Established_Relationship, Rare
      Pairings, Sceter_-_Freeform, Dom/sub, Sub_Scott, Sub_Scott_McCall, Bottom
      Scott, Bottom_Scott_McCall, Alpha_Scott, Alpha_Scott_McCall, Dom_Peter,
      Dom_Peter_Hale, Top_Peter, Top_Peter_Hale, Beta_Peter, Beta_Peter_Hale,
      Wolfed_Out_Sex, Knotting, Fisting, Anal_Fisting, Feminization, Werewolf
      Bites, Daddy_Kink, Naked_Male_Clothed_Male, Older_Man/Younger_Man, Alpha/
      Beta/Omega_Dynamics, Dynamics_Play, Mentioned_Stiles_Stilinski, implied
      sterek, Breeding_Kink, Shameless_Smut, Consensual_Kink, Consensual_Sex,
      Anal_Gaping
  Series:
      Part 2 of Scott's_Multiverse_of_Daddies
  Stats:
      Published: 2018-01-09 Words: 1375
****** Exercise the power of vulnerability ******
by kestra_troi
Summary
     Peter is one of the few Beta males with a functional knot, so him and
     Scott explore fisting and knotting.
     This is part 2 in a series of unconnected vignettes centering on
     Scott and his various relationships with older men.
Notes
     I marked this as underage, but I don't specify Scott's age in the
     story, so you can read him to be underaged or not. I didn't intend
     him to be, but make of it what you will.
     Title is a Stefan Molyneaux quote.
     Kudos and comments welcome!
Sweat clung to him, in a thin sheen, glistening like a transparent second skin.
Goosebumps broke out on his arms and legs forcing a sharp shudder through his
tense muscles. Scott panted shallowly, slack jawed and flushed. His face
burned, plastered to the cool, expensive sheets. His eyes erratically flashed
red as his hole clenched fitfully around Peter’s wrist. “A-a-al-alpha?”
“You want to take my knot, don’t you, pup?” Peter asked, answering Scott’s
unspoken question with another question. Scott whimpered, nodding weakly. Peter
soothingly petted the small of his back with his free, ungloved hand. “This
will prepare you for the stretch.”
Slowly, minutely, Peter rotated his wrist first one way and then the other to
acclimate his partner to the movement. Scott sputtered, firmly clutching the
sheets by his head, careful to keep his claws retracted. “Are you enjoying your
first fisting, pup?”
“Y-yes, alpha,” Scott muttered, finally catching his breath.
“Good girl,” Peter softly praised, skimming his hand down Scott’s back to
lovingly scratch his scalp. Scott bit his lip to swallow a groan. He wailed
when Peter abruptly twisted his wrist quicker, knuckles suddenly brushing his
prostate. His flaccid dick leaked, gushing pre-come in thin, continuous streams
that stained the sheets beneath him.
Peter chuckled, his eyes gleaming their icy blue.
Gradually, he pulled his hand out of Scott’s ass, maintaining the pressure
against his prostate as he extracted one finger at a time. Scott whined at the
loss and the trembling, empty feeling in his gut. Peter wiped his gloved hand
on Scott’s engorged rosebud, smearing more lube on the puffy rim. “And that,
dear boy, is how we turn your ass into a suitable cunt for my knot.”
Scott shook all over, chills spreading from his exposed, expanded hole down to
his bent knees and curled toes, then upwards through his feeble arms.
Unsteadily, he raised his head, glancing over his shoulder, curious, as if he
would be able to see the changes in his body.
“Would you like me to take a picture for you?” Peter sarcastically offered.
“So, you can see what a beautiful cunt you have?”
Shaking his head, Scott collapsed back onto the bed, while two fingers
judiciously probed his hole. “Perhaps I will regardless, for my own
satisfaction,” Peter said ominously, pressing three freshly lubed fingers into
his sub. “A memento to remember this night by: the first night I bred you like
a bitch in heat.”  
“Yes, alpha,” Scott muttered, his heart jackrabbiting in his chest. A new heat
flooded his face.
“Easy, pup, easy,” Peter fussed, adding a fourth finger. He rubbed Scott’s
flank in a comforting, circular motion and shushed the sniffling younger man.
He slipped his thumb inside and Scott gasped, holding his breath tightly in his
throat. “Breathe, pup. Remember to breathe.”
Shakily forcing out a breath, Scott wheezily inhaled. Out, in. Out, in. Out,
in. A simple rhythm, but hard to follow as Peter again twisted and turned his
fist this way and that in deliberate arcs, loosening his hole.
His insides ached, his entire lower body throbbed, especially his hole. Peter
withdrew, then pushed back in again. And again. And again. Practically,
punching his ass into submission. Scott soared, his eyes rolling back into his
head, while something wholly different yet eerily similar to an orgasm rocketed
around his synapses.
Peter slowed. He came to a stop with his fist only partially buried in Scott’s
ass. “That should do it,” he grandly announced. “Do you feel looser now, pup?
Like your insides might pour out of your ass?”
“God, yes,” Scott sobbed, confessing. “Feel so good, Daddy!”
“Wonderful,” Peter praised, affectionately caressing Scott’s ass. He gave the
cheek a playful swat. “Scoot up the bed, pup. Make room for Daddy.”
Gasping, Scott looked over the expanse of mattress in front of him. Peter might
as well have told him to climb Mount Everest. Somehow relaxing his inflexible
fingers, Scott tossed his limp arm in front of him and tugged himself forward
one puny pull at a time.
From his vantage point behind him, Peter watched his boy amused. He removed his
glove, careful to not splatter his clothes with excess lube or the dusting of
wolfsbane on the exterior side, while he unzipped his slacks singlehanded. He
jerked his dick out of his pants and tossed the glove into his wastebasket.
Pumping lube directly onto his hand, he stroked his length, basking in the
feeling of erectile freedom. He gazed at Scott’s wrecked hole, wagging to and
fro in the air with every crawling step, gaping and unrecovered. He smiled.
“How did you convince your old emissary to make this uniquely useful batch of
wolfsbane?”
“I-I told him it was for Stiles,” Scott explained.
“You lied,” Peter happily summarized. “Oh, my sweet, honey child. I do believe
I have finally corrupted you.”
Scott blushed and quietly whimpered. Peter continued, “But answer me this:
Deaton doesn’t particularly care for Stiles one way or the other. Why would he
provide him such an indecent strain of wolfsbane?”
“I-I told him…Sti-stiles needed it…for Derek,” Scott admitted, sighing with
relief as he crawled passed the middle of the bed and came to a stop. Peter
rumbled with pride. Tentatively, Scott reached his hands down to his ass and
meekly fingered his obscenely stretched rim.
“Oh, you, naughty girl,” Peter tutted, quickly kneeling on the bed behind
Scott. He smacked his hands away taking them and placing them explicitly on the
edge of the bed. “Good girls ask permission before playing with their slutty
cunts.”
“I’m s’rry, Daddy,” Scott slurred.
“Now, are you going to be a good girl for Daddy and take my knot or are you
going to be naughty?” Peter whispered huskily in Scott’s ear.
“I’ll be good, Daddy,” Scott promised, his eyes briefly gleaming red in the
soft lamplight. Peter growled lowly, snarling as he nipped at Scott’s ear.
Scott squeezed his eyes shut, fighting down the urge to shift and assert his
dominance.
“Good girl,” Peter cooed, sweet as sin. He straightened up, grabbing Scott by
the hips. He teasingly rubbed his erection in Scott’s bared, quivering hole.
Scott cried. “Color?”
“Green, Daddy,” Scott hastily replied. “Green.”
“Once I knot you, we will be tied for at least fifteen minutes,” Peter
described. “I won’t be able to pull out, no matter how uncomfortable you get.
Do you still want to try?”
“Yes, Daddy,” Scott said without hesitation. “I want it. I want your knot. Want
you to breed me, alpha. I’ve been good. Been good for you, Daddy.”
“You’ve been better than good,” Peter promised. “You’ve been mine.”
Without warning, Peter plunged his dick into Scott all the way in a single
savage thrust. Scott wailed. His hole looser than ever before could only
faintly clench around the intrusion and Peter hammered into him with
unrestrained strength. Scott’s claws poked through the fabric. His ear
sharpened as he grunted and groaned, and his playtime alpha pounded into him
mercilessly.
Unrelenting, Peter chased his orgasm. He cricked his neck, the shift wrenching
his insides as his fangs filled his mouth. He dug his claws into Scott’s damp
skin. The young Alpha raised his head and growled. Peter leaned over,
placatingly flicking his tongue at the juncture of Scott’s shoulder and neck:
the perfect place to plant his bite.
Scott mewled plaintively, the itch to bite at this errant Beta flaring in his
chest. The instinct to fight blossomed as he hesitantly bared his throat. He
burned inside and out.
The windows rattled, and the room reverberated with Peter’s subvocal roar. His
knot expanded. His eyes electrifyingly blue. He staked his claim with a bite.
Scott yelped beneath him, half screaming half roaring, as he erupted, his come
darkening and sinking into the sheets.  
Lapping at the thin rivulets of blood dribbling out of his sub, Peter murmured
sweet things to his boy. He snapped his hips once, twice, and a final time more
before his knot swelled to full. Scott sobbed, quaking and shuddering. Peter
eased them onto their sides and tenderly shushed his overstimulated sub,
nuzzling the bite he left on him. “What a good girl you are,” he remarked.
“What a good girl for Daddy.”
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