Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/4224120.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      Multi
  Fandom:
      Teen_Wolf_(TV)
  Relationship:
      Derek_Hale/Peter_Hale/Stiles_Stilinski
  Character:
      Derek_Hale, Peter_Hale, Stiles_Stilinski
  Additional Tags:
      Dubious_Consent, Emotional_Manipulation, Alpha_Peter_Hale, Manipulative
      Peter, Uncle/Nephew_Incest, Dubiously_Consensual_Blow_Jobs, Dirty_Talk
  Stats:
      Published: 2015-06-28 Words: 1425
****** Praying for Pack (Paying in Naivete) ******
by MoMoMomma
Summary
     Derek knew his uncle was insane. The whole “trying to kill him in a
     hospital” sort of cemented the idea in his mind that Peter didn’t
     come back after the fire with every neuron firing correctly. He knows
     he’s been murdering people, knows he murdered his own niece, knows
     that he bit a stupid teenager and is trying to drag him down into the
     mess he’s creating.
     But this...this seems almost too much.
Notes
     ******EXTREMELY DUBIOUS CONSENT AHEAD******* One of the darker things
     I've written, please be mindful of the tags and take care of
     yourself. I don't actually remember if this one was ever beta-ed
     because it got this dark.
See the end of the work for more notes
Derek knew his uncle was insane. The whole “trying to kill him in a hospital”
sort of cemented the idea in his mind that Peter didn’t come back after the
fire with every neuron firing correctly. He knows he’s been murdering people,
knows he murdered his own niece, knows that he bit a stupid teenager and is
trying to drag him down into the mess he’s creating.
But this...this seems almost too much.
“Hello, Derek.”
Peter’s got his claws out, tucked gently against the sensitive underside of the
kid’s throat, hooked under a collar that looks like something a prized pet
would wear. Derek vaguely recalls Scott calling him ‘Stiles’, a stupid nickname
that he only barely registered. The kid wasn’t on his radar, wasn’t important
except for how Scott could be manipulated through him.
Apparently Peter doesn’t share his feelings on the subject.
There’s a blindfold over Stiles’ eyes, wet in some spots like he’d been crying,
and his lips are plush and bruised. There’s a familiar scent lingering around
him, one Derek couldn’t avoid when he lived in a house with so many other
people.
Derek firmly ignores the little voice inside him that whispers that he knows
exactly why the scent is so familiar and pangs something low in his stomach.
“Let him go.” He feels like he’s sixteen again when his voice cracks on the
command, trying to stand up to the uncle that always seemed to be three steps
ahead of him.
“Hmmm,” Peter looks like he’s considering it, glancing at where Stiles is
shaking from the tension of staying halfway settled back onto his heels, no
doubt trying to lessen the sharp pressure on his skin. “No.”
“He’s just a stupid kid.”
“So were you. And I took you under my wing.”
“Not like this.” Derek pushes down the sharp want, knowing Peter, even as a new
Alpha, would smell it instantly.
“Derek,” it’s a purr he knows well, one that tells him Peter’s going to drag
him into trouble, “are you implying I’ve done something to this poor boy?
Something...impure?”
“He smells like come and rut.” Derek bites out the words, snapping his mouth
shut when Peter chuckles and leans forward, finally letting Stiles drop back
onto his calves.
“Oh, yes, that. Well, I’m sure you can allow me a few weaknesses, a
few...lapses in judgement. After all, I was denied everything for so very long,
nephew.”
Derek swallows against the implications. He’s the reason Peter got hurt. The
reason their entire pack was killed. He hadn’t known Peter knew but how could
he not?
Peter always knew.
The floorboards of the house creak under Peter’s feet as he shifts his weight,
standing next to Stiles and moving his hand to pull Stiles up by the collar.
Derek wants to protest when Stiles whines, something animal and hurting in his
tone as his delicate neck is pressed against the leather. But Peter’s being so
deliberate, so careful, and Derek knows he’s poised to react instantly if Derek
so much as twitches the wrong way.
“I could bite him. I offered it to him, you know? Not that long ago. The sweet
boy wanted to say yes so badly but he’s terrified.”
“And making him a slave will magically fix that?” Harshness and sarcasm are his
weapons here. He can’t hope to fight Peter, not one-on-one, and he can’t let
Peter know that a small part of him is howling for Peter to sink teeth into the
boy.
They’d be a real pack then. Not just two wolves orbiting each other over a
shared bloodline and the echoes of pack bonds. The three of them, plus Scott if
he stopped resisting, could be a powerhouse. Derek doesn’t have to pay
attention to Stiles to know he’s the brains, that he’s sharper than any human
should be when confronted with this sort of world.
“I was thinking more along the lines of showing him how good having a leader
could be. You can smell it on him, you know?” Peter noses into Stiles’ temple
and Derek clenches his fist at the phantom memories of how that feels. “The
need to follow. The need to submit. All he needs is a push. Perhaps a hand to
hold?”
“What do you--” Derek trails off his demand when Peter whispers in Stiles’ ear
and the boy nods shaking, stumbling towards Derek.
He’s not holding his hands out for balance, or to tell him where he’s going,
which means Peter’s probably got them tied. Derek winds up having to catch him
when Stiles trips on a piece of debris, crashing into him with a soft huff. He
scrambles to keep him upright, glaring over his head only to find Peter settled
back on the old couch, hand against his chin as he watches them.
“It seems Derek will need convincing to join us, Stiles. Do be a dear and give
him some?”
Before Derek can blink, before he can move to keep him standing, Stiles slips
through his arms and hits the floor hard. He’s barely stopped dropping before
he leans forward and mouths at Derek’s cock through his jeans. Derek gasps,
catching the sides of his head and yanking him away, foot raising to take a
step away when suddenly Peter’s at his back, claws against his nape when he
presses close.
He can feel his uncle’s erection grinding against him and fights the shudder
that goes through him, desperately hoping that if he pretends hard enough,
Peter will think it’s revulsion.
“Ah, ah, ah. Play nice, nephew. Let him suck you off.”
“I don’t want it. Peter, he’s just a kid--”
“And I don’t want to have to force this.” Peter’s lips brush his ear, voice low
and silky, a growl there that tells Derek if he could look, he’d see red irises
staring out of his uncle’s face. “You want it, Derek. You don’t think I could
smell you when you were young? Mounting your fist constantly, gasping and
moaning like a slut into your pillows like you thought they’d muffle you.”
Peter’s voice turns breathy, a insulting approximation of what Derek sounded
like as a teen, and the shock of the words makes his hand slip, Stiles
immediately licking wetly at where his cock’s swelling behind his zipper.
“Uncle, please. Please fuck me, want it so badly. Wanna be your bitch, be your
knot slut. Peter, want you to wreck me on your cock.”
Derek feels dizzy, no option but to go limp against his uncle’s more powerful
frame, heat suffusing his body as Peter uses his free hand to open his zipper,
reaching in to grasp Derek’s cock and draw it out. The combination of Peter’s
hand on the base and Stiles’ mouth wrapping around the tip is almost too much
and Derek is glad when Peter draws his hand away to cup Stiles’ head.
“He’s good isn’t he? Of course, his hole is much better, I tested that myself
before you came. Pumped him so full, he was leaking, Derek. I wouldn’t let him
clean it off, of course, knew you’d want to lick it from him. Do you? Do you
want to lick your uncle’s come out of the boy he fucked? Are you so desperate
for it that you would stoop so low?”
Derek can’t talk, heart in his throat from the words and the heat of Stiles’
mouth, but his answering whine is definitely in the affirmative and it makes
Peter chuckle against his shoulder.
“Don’t be so whiny, pup. You’ll get your treat. I’ll let you lay under him,
suck every drop from that tight little hole while I fuck his throat. And then,
when he’s swallowing down the last bit I give him and you’re still hungry,
wanting to lick it from his mouth next? I’ll bite him. Sink my fangs into his
sweet flesh and give you a pack.”
Derek isn’t sure whether it’s the words or Stiles’ moan that makes him come
with a grunt, the boy eagerly swallowing like he thinks the faster this is
done, the faster the fantasy Peter painted can become a reality.
Maybe he isn’t the unwilling slave Derek thought.
“Good job, Stiles.” The smile that spreads across the boy’s face is proof
enough that Derek was wrong and he shudders when Peter nips lightly at his
throat, smacking a hand against his ass.
“Come on then, pup. You have a job to do and then we...we have a pack to
build.”
End Notes
     Got this far? Niiiice, congratuwelldone. I'm momomomma2 over on
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