Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/1180466.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Rape/Non-Con, Underage
  Category:
      Other
  Fandom:
      Teen_Wolf_(TV)
  Relationship:
      Peter_Hale/Stiles_Stilinski, Derek_Hale_&_Stiles_Stilinski, Lydia_Martin
      &_Stiles_Stilinski, Scott_McCall_&_Stiles_Stilinski
  Character:
      Stiles_Stilinski, Nogitsune_(Teen_Wolf)
  Additional Tags:
      Rape/Non-con_Elements, Hallucinations, Dark_Fantasy, Fingerfucking, Hand
      Jobs, Masturbation, This_Is_Why_We_Can't_Have_Nice_Things, I'm_Sorry
  Stats:
      Published: 2014-02-12 Words: 2703
****** Friends With The Monster In My Mind ******
by MoMoMomma
Summary
     The Nogitsune's attempts at convincing Stiles to submit have changed
     tactics. It's no longer fear and intimidation, but rather offers of
     what he could have if he would just give in. Stiles isn't so sure
     this is any better. In fact, he's pretty sure this is worse. He'll
     take the bear trap again, he'll take anything, just...not this.
Notes
     I don't know...I have no idea where this came from. I am so sorry.
     It's confusing and dark and completely triggering so please take
     care. Also, it is tagged as Stiles & numerous characters because
     while Stiles does have an attraction to them,it doesn't equal his
     attraction to Peter (hence the tagging of their actual relationship).
     And the underage tag is due to it taking place in current show canon,
     in which Stiles is still underage.
     I...I normally say enjoy here but I don't feel like that's
     appropriate so...thank you for reading?
See the end of the work for more notes
“Why are you doing this?”
“A willing host is always more powerful than one that fights.” Stiles’ shadow
smirked back at him from the mirror, reflected in the shimmering surface.
Stiles let his head fall forwards, clenching his teeth when he felt the cool
brush of fingertips—the callous on his pointer finger from lacrosse dragging
slightly—against the nape of his neck. He didn’t know how much longer he could
fight this for. Every single night the monster that wore his face was back,
smirking at him, eyes flashing between an insidious black and a glowing silver.
Lately, the tactics had been different. Stiles had actually been waking up
feeling normal, feeling better than he had when he’d gone to sleep.
The monster no longer tortured him with bear traps and the promise of murdering
everyone Stiles cared about. There were no more illusions. Instead, he treated
him almost like a friend, like Stiles was someone he desperately wanted to
impress. Stiles had sworn to himself he would fight tooth and nail, try as hard
as he could to throw whatever demon this was out of him, but it was hard.
Especially tonight.
“So is there a reason I’m naked?” Stiles spat, head kicking up to glare at his
twin in the mirror, the monsters eyes crinkling alongside his lips as he
grinned.
“Like I said, willing hosts are much more pleasant.”
“I’m not going to submit to you.” Stiles swore, hands clenching against the top
of his dresser, the temperature in the room dipping as the monster scowled.
Void, as he’d come to refer to the animal after a short lesson from Allison and
her dad, rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. Like this, he—and Stiles wasn’t
even sure if it was a he, but he was running around with Stiles’ genitals so
‘he’ it was—looked more like the pouting teenager he appeared, instead of the
horrifying creature that had driven Stiles mad. He blew out a breath, the
temperature of his breath warm against Stiles’ skin, a contrast to the cool of
the room.
“Stiles,” Void purred, leaning close and pressing himself against Stiles’ back,
the cool of his clothes making Stiles jerk away before iron tight hands gripped
his biceps. “I don’t think you quite understand what you’re dealing with here.
Submitting, doing as I wish? I could grant you anything you desire.”
“I desire you to get the hell out of me.” Stiles said, bucking backwards to try
and shove the creature away, wincing when Void refused to move back, their
bodies colliding.
“But you’re so fun.” Void snarled, sliding a hand up Stiles’ back and gripping
onto his hair, tipping his head back just far enough that Stiles swallowed
reflexively.
“Think about it, Stiles.” He whispered, lips just barely brushing the curve of
Stiles’ ear, shudders of disgust running down his spine. “When I say anything,
I mean anything. You could see your mother every night. Have more power than
those canines that you run with, have anyone you ever wanted.”
“I don’t want any of that.” Stiles shook his head, yelping when Void slid a
hand off his arm and down his front, stomach clenching under the feel of
familiar callouses.
His stomach started to churn as his body reacted to the familiar feeling,
Pavlovian training kicking in as blood started to move downwards. Stiles bit
back a gasp when Void curled his fingers—no, not his, Stiles. They were Stiles.
They belonged to him.—around his cock, bucking against the hold.
“S-Stop!” He choked out, Void scowling at his rejection and tightening the hand
in his hair to a painful grip. “I don’t…I don’t want this!”
“You don’t want me.” Void snapped, pumping his cock a few times, Stiles
swallowing back bile at the way it thickened further under the pressure.
The air shifted suddenly, between one blink and the next, and Stiles closed his
eyes. Naked was not a fun thing to be while terrified, and naked, and with a
demon who had already hi-jacked his body? And had his fucking hand around
Stiles’ cock? There was little else about this scenario that could terrify
Stiles.
But whatever Void was doing, Stiles couldn’t stop it. He’d tried once, to fight
off the illusion, to convince himself it wasn’t real. He’d thought maybe he’d
wake up. Instead, Void had taken offense and displayed all his friends in front
of him, all dying of horrific wounds, begging Stiles to save them.
He had stopped trying to ignore Void after that.
“But you do want me.”
Stiles’ eyes shot open in response to the voice, mouth falling wide as he
stared in the mirror. Playful green eyes met his, the hands in his hair and
around his cock more delicate now, tipped with immaculate French tips.
“L-Lydia?” Stiles gasped out, twisting to try and see her, groaning when the
fingers in his hair gripped and yanked his face back to the mirror.
“Not really.” She purred, flashing the silver of her—not her, not him. It.
Void.—teeth as she stroked his cock slowly, leaning to press a kiss to his
shoulder. “But I could be. I could be anyone you want, Stiles.”
“Go away!” Stiles screamed into the reflection, Void’s lips turning down in a
pout that was so achingly familiar Stiles couldn’t help the pulse of blood in
his cock or the shudder that ran down his spine.
“Not me, then?” Lydia sighed, and the air shifted once more, Stiles slamming
his eyes shut.
He didn’t want to know. He couldn’t know. This…this was almost worse than the
physical torture. This was soul-deep gouging and there wasn’t enough Dial in
the world to make him feel clean again.
“Open your eyes, Stiles.”
The command was unfamiliar, but the voice was so achingly tied to Stiles’
survival reflex he obeyed, eyelids peeling open as he stared at the reflection
once more.
“Good boy.” Derek’s lips curled up into a smirk—something so dark, so very un-
like the sourwolf, playing at the edges—pumping his cock another few times,
like some sick reward. “You forget, Stiles, I’m inside you. I know exactly what
you want.”
Void leaned in and brushed borrowed stubble against his skin, the rub making
Stiles shudder, hips bucking against his will into the tight fist that held
him. Void glanced into the mirror, no longer meeting Stiles’ eyes, but admiring
his own naked form.
God, all those wet dreams about what Derek would look like naked were coming
true. In the worst possible way.
“He is nice, isn’t he?” Void purred, scratching lightly against Stiles’ scalp,
grip no longer tight.
Not like he needed it. At this point, with everything happening, with all the
conflicting emotions and feelings inside him, Stiles couldn’t look away from
the reflections if a goddamn atomic bomb went off next to him.
“And you like this form. Just think of all we could do. All you could do to
him.” Void switched hands, so quickly Stiles could barely notice it, his left
hand leaving his hair to replace his right on Stiles’ cock.
The other hand trailed around his body, brushing against his ass and then lower
until the pad of one finger touched his hole. Void smirked and Stiles choked on
his next inhale when that same hole suddenly felt slick, open, the same way it
felt when Stiles fingered himself during late nights when he couldn’t, or
didn’t want to, sleep.
“You could have him. Just like this. I could give him to you, as a gift.” Void
breathed, pushing one finger against his rim, grinning wickedly when it gave
just a bit and Stiles cried out at the pressure. “If you were to stop fighting,
that is.”
“I don’t want him.” Stiles screeched, the sound ripping at his vocal cords, the
words forcing themselves out.
He wanted Derek. He lusted after him—what person with eyes wouldn’t?—but not
how Void was offering. Not like that. Derek had had enough people take
advantage. Stiles would die before he became another one.
Void sighed again, like this whole thing was tedious, finger still toying with
Stiles’ hole, other hand absently pumping his length.
“Not him, then? Picky, picky boy. But I have many options.” Derek’s lips curled
in a facsimile of a grin, the edges of his body wavering slightly.
Stiles couldn’t look away, torn between leaning aside to vomit up what little
he’d choked down before he’d fallen asleep and bucking into the tight hand
still encircling his cock. Fuck his body, fuck his weak mass of muscles and
flesh that made him such an easy target. This was rape, and he was getting off?
Leaning into the touches, bucking back against Void’s borrowed hands?
How fucked up was he?
“How about me?” Tears edged Stiles’ vision at the new voice, clouding the grin
Scott shot him.
“N-No. Not him.” Stiles whispered, unable to speak clearly, the coil in stomach
tightening at the familiar sight of his best friend’s face.
“Not me?” Void teased, pressing harder, Stiles gasping as the finger that had
been teasing his rim slid inside, a familiar and unfamiliar presence.
Scott’s fingers were so thick, so different from his own thin ones, and the
contrast had Stiles bucking even as his stomach rolled and he swallowed back a
mouthful of sour spit.
“But how funwould it be, Stiles?” Void whispered, eyes flashing Scott’s
familiar Alpha-red as he leaned in and dragged his lips against Stiles’
shoulder. “Who knows you better than your best friend? Who would be a better
lover? And he’s an Alpha.”
Void scoffed at that, breath washing hot over Stiles’ chilled skin, eyes
rolling in the reflection as Stiles flexed his hands, the muscles sore from
being clenched into tight fists on the wood.
“Such a silly position, but important to wolves. Having him under you, under
your control? You would never want for anything in their world.”
“Stop this.” Stiles spat, glaring at his best friend’s face, watching it go
slack for a moment before Void arched a brow at him. “He’s good, too damn good.
Leave him out of this.”
“Too good?” Void echoed, pumping the finger inside him in and out, scrambling
Stiles’ brain for a moment, so much so that the next words sounded like they’d
been spoken underwater. “Then let’s go bad, shall we?”
“No!” Stiles’ eyes slammed shut, his whole body bucking against what he knew—he
just fucking knew—what was coming next.
A fantasy he jacked off to in the late hours of the night, when the world went
to sleep, where he couldn’t be judged. One that had him spilling faster than he
ever had with anyone else, even Lydia. One he’d never admit to under the pain
of torture.
One that Void, apparently, knew well.
Void didn’t speak, sinking another finger deep inside him—a thicker finger than
even Scott’s—the digits moving and stretching inside him, brushing up against
his prostate in ways that had Stiles whining and shoving forward into the tight
clench of a hand so much softer than Scott’s own. When he pressed another kiss
to Stiles’ skin, to the sensitive spot just below his ear, Stiles shuddered at
the brush of stubble.
Not this. Anything but this.
“Open your eyes, Stiles.” Void whispered sweetly, Stiles feeling lips curl into
a smile against his skin even as he shook his head.
Everything was falling, lightening sparking behind his lids at the pleasure
racing up his spine. He was going to lose it, was going to fall. He couldn’t
control his body’s reactions any more than he could control his mind anymore
and he was going to come. Come from the borrowed fingers Void had sunk deep
inside him, spilling over the same stolen digits stroking his cock just how
Stiles liked.
“Open them.” Void snapped again, nipping at his skin this time, teeth sharper
than they should have been, and Stiles gasped for breath, tears streaking down
his cheeks as he shook his head.
He couldn’t. He couldn’t do it. Couldn’t open his eyes, couldn’t admit to this,
couldn’t stop himself from coming under the control of a monster.
“Give in, Stiles.” Void’s voice had changed, the borrowed purr like honey
sliding over Stiles’ frayed nerves. “Give in and I’ll give you this, anytime
you want.”
“I don’t want it.” Stiles sobbed out, the flashes behind his eyes more and more
as he slipped towards the edge, as Void’s stolen hands pushed him further and
further towards orgasm.
“Do you know what I heard just then?” Void taunted, hands moving faster, Stiles
going hot then cold at the familiar words. “Your heart beating slightly faster
over the words ‘I don’t want’. Stop lying to yourself Stiles and open. Your.
Eyes.”
The last snarled words, coupled with the sudden release of tension in his body,
had Stiles obeying, eyes snapping open. Peter’s gaze met his in the mirror, as
he shook and shuddered, spilling hot over the fingers gripping his cock,
clenching around the two still buried inside him. There was something
triumphant in the grin that curled the werewolf’s lips as Stiles sagged back
against the solid form, weak from his orgasm even as everything in him screamed
at him to run.
“I can keep this up, Stiles,” Void whispered, Peter’s gaze soft as he ran it
over Stiles’ form. “For as long as I want. Every night, every day. Or you can
give in. And I can give you everything you want.”
Stiles didn’t speak, couldn’t speak, and Void chuckled—the sound more malicious
than anything that had ever come from Peter, even when he was a half-mad Alpha
on a rampage.
“Good boy. Now wake up. I’m a benevolent creature, I’ll give you a gift before
I take what I need.”
Stiles closed his eyes and became aware of himself on a gasp. Everything rushed
back, the heat in the air, the sounds of crickets chirping outside, the light
of the moon pouring in through his window. Shakily, he withdrew the fingers
he’d had buried inside his hole, scrambling for a few tissues on the dresser to
wipe the come from his hands. Stiles shook as he stumbled to the bathroom,
turning the shower as hot as he could stand and climbing in, scrubbing at his
skin until all he felt was pain.
Once he climbed out, Stiles had a plan. He dressed quickly, not wanting to
waste any second. All Void wanted was to use him, use his body, to tie up loose
ends. No one Stiles cared about would get hurt, not if he just listened.
He wasn’t planning on listening, obviously, but Stiles had been lying for
years. Lying to himself wasn’t even a problem anymore.
So he would ‘give in’. Play along, allow Void to think he had won. Stiles
grabbed for his phone and shoved it into his pocket, stomping down the stairs.
He didn’t meet his dad’s eyes as he grabbed his keys off the hook, unable to
meet the pain in them. Everything would be over soon. He’d figure out a way to
fix everything and it could all go back to normal, go back to how it was before
Stiles felt like he was drowning every single day.
All he had to do was endure the agony until his head broke the surface of the
water.
“I’m gonna head over to Peter’s. Don’t wait up.” He shouted over his shoulder,
distantly hearing his dad respond and returning the ‘I love you’, wishing for a
second he could just stop and hug him.
Inside him, somewhere dark within the recesses of his mind, Void’s mouth curled
into a deadly smile, pleased arrogance tugging at the corners of blackened
lips.
Just a little while longer. Then he could breathe. Then he could take in the
breath his body was begging for. Could figure it out—he always figured it
out—and banish this demonic fucker right back to wherever the hell he’d come
from. He just had to keep playing the part, just keep going through hell.
Just keep going.
End Notes
     If you have any questions about what's going on or need a little more
     clarity, please come drop me a line over at my tumblr.
     Or...y'know...if you did like it, come hang out with me! I need more
     people who accept these kinds of works :D
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