Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/4556007.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Graphic_Depictions_Of_Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Teen_Wolf_(TV)
  Relationship:
      Peter_Hale/Stiles_Stilinski
  Character:
      Peter_Hale, Stiles_Stilinski
  Additional Tags:
      I_hate_myself, Rape, Hunger_Games-Typical_Death/Violence, Bestiality,
      Kidnapping, Knotting, Remorse, Rape/Non-con_Elements, Pleasure_From_Rape
  Series:
      Part 17 of Chelsea's_One-Shots
  Stats:
      Published: 2015-08-12 Words: 1499
****** The Beast ******
by ChelseasDeadSmile
Summary
     Being kidnapped wasn't exactly on top of Stiles' priority list.
Notes
     -a stabs myself in the eye with a fork-
The strange man was howling, that was the problem, and Stiles couldn’t find
some clever solution as to get away from him as the man came infinitely more
closer to him.  
Stiles and twelve others had been kidnapped by some guys straight out of an
80’s biker slasher movie where promises of release were strung into the air
like Christmas lights.  Stiles wasn’t allowed to see where he was being kept
besides the 10x10 room he and the others were kept in isolation from the rest
of whatever was out there.
Then, probably two weeks, after being kidnapped, they were released out into a
wooded area that nearly reminded Stiles of The Hunger Games, so, he treated it
like the tributes did.  The first thing he got rid of was his scent by jumping
into a mud pit and covering himself in the smell of earth and any of the
flowers growing around it to make himself camouflage into the background of the
woods that he was trapped in.
He knew, so long as he didn’t leave any tracks and stayed within the heights of
tree’s, those guys wouldn’t be able to reach him nor find him.  He usually
couldn’t focus well without his Adderall, but this was a life or death
situation, so, he had the ability to focus a bit more than usual.  He couldn’t
ever let his guard down during a situation like this, so, he set up traps in
the area he was in before moving on to another one.
While traveling through the thickets, he’d spot patches of blood, strewn limbs,
or, occasionally, a dead kid or skeleton of one.  Whatever happened out here,
was brutal, life threatening, and he was right in the middle of it all with the
only one to have the sense to make the bad 80’s biker’s wooded area his own in
order to hunt them back.
The first scream he heard came from the closest to the paddock that they were
ushered out of - it was followed by the howl of a wolf, and, that when he knew,
the night was when the games began.  A few hours later was when an angry roar
was ripping through the area, but a scream didn’t precede it, meaning, it was
either angry by being caught in one of Stiles’ many traps, or, it had killed
someone else.
Probably the latter rather than the former.
Another two weeks would pass before Stiles would realize he was one of three
left living, because the others would cover their tracks nearly as well as
Stiles could.  His Dad had taken him hunting many times before so it wasn’t
like Stiles didn’t know what would attract animals while also knowing what
would be chemical signatures of what kept them away.
Sad to say that he willingly let himself get sprayed by a skunk, and, woah, did
he stink for days after that.
He knew that his human scent was going to start bleeding through soon, so, he
went toward the mud pit, but was stopped by the body of a fresh kill from the
wolf pack that was seemingly alluding him in his attempts to find it and see if
he could pick off one of the members.  Death, though, was another scent to
cover himself in to ensure he survived out in the woods, and ward off whatever
wanted to have him for lunch, dinner, or a ravagingly fast fuck that’d cost him
his life.
 
Not giving it a second thought, he tore at the body of the kid that he didn’t
know before smearing the dead blood all over him; he’d abandoned his clothes
after finding them having been trashed a ravaged when he’d gone to the bushes.
He was now one of two, or, the last one alive; he hadn’t seen the other kid in
a couple days so it would be no surprise if he found him dead somewhere around
the wooded area.  After covering himself in death, he moved to check one of his
traps just to see cloying blood on one that hadn’t been there a couple days
ago, so, it had to be a wolves, but there were no dead wolves in the wooded
area which was odd.
No wolf pack, but there were howls, no dead bodies, but numerous of his traps
had blood on them or had punctured deep enough to kill whatever it was that the
trap had gotten, and, there was something behind him.  He felt the tickles of
awareness that signalled that he wasn’t the only one looking at the trap, and,
without a backwards glance, he ran toward the river hopping over the traps he’d
set up that had poison placed upon them that, no doubt, was slowing down
whatever it was that was behind him.
As soon as he got to the canyon where the river was, he, instead of trying to
jump over it, jumped right into it making the water murky where he had entered
into it, but he held his breath and swam down stream toward the place where
there was a bit of land sticking out, but was sheltered by the cliff looming
over it that’d hide him from view for a little while before he’d head back up
stream.
And that’s, pretty much, where he ended up looking up at a howling man with
blue devil eyes, bare naked, and looking at Stiles like he wanted to kill him
(or fuck him, Stiles couldn’t tell).  But Stiles knew that he’d screwed himself
over when he tried to make it back to the place that he was most comfortable in
order to cover his scent back up, because this guy was waiting.
One second Stiles was crouched, ready to take whatever the guy gave him, and
the next thing he knew he felt a heavy weight come over him.  He kicked and
shoved at the man (thing?) when it tried to pin him down on his stomach, but it
didn’t work well at all up until something was shoved into his body short
circuiting his brain with the battling feelings of unfathomable pain and
unlimited pleasure.
The thing seemed to sense the battle going on within his mind and latched it’s
jaws upon his neck lightly as it...thrust...within his body over and over again
as it hit some spot within Stiles that made bursts of light cloud over his eyes
each time it hit the spot.  It felt so morally wrong in his mind as his body
seemed to take the tainted pleasure from it hitting that spot within him, feel
the constricting hold of its clawed hands, and light touch of sharp, pointed
teeth as it held onto his body with a vice like grip that a part of his mind
loved, but the rest wanted to shrink away from.
He attempted to shrink into a smaller form of himself, but that only seemed to
please the beast taking possession of his body which rewarded him with a
tighter hold of the teeth on his neck and a pleasured growl as it kept going.
 The betrayal of his body, led him to know he was about to reach orgasm from
the tainted pleasure that was still making surges of light burst into his eyes
from it all.  He didn’t want to orgasm, scream as his mind gave itself over to
the pleasure, nor did he want the thing bursting its semen into his body.
It happened though, his mind said good bye to him as his orgasm washed over him
making him choke on a scream as he came all over the dirt floor of the wooded
area he had called home for the past two and a half weeks while it forced him
to curl in on himself even more giving the beast behind him more pleasure as it
started letting something grow inside of him that felt like it was going to rip
Stiles apart.
As soon as it stopped growing, Stiles was reduced to tears and trembling as he
collapsed where he came,but the beast, at the last second, twisted them so they
were on their sides instead of the cum spot.
Stiles cried silently for several minutes before he felt the thing’s teeth let
go of his neck and start licking it making Stiles shudder and try to inch as
much as he could away from it, but the thing growled and pulled him
towards...its chest.  It wasn’t a thing anymore, but a man - a man that had
been a beast just seconds before.
It was minutes before the beast turned man said anything to him as Stiles wept
silently,  "I'm sorry" he said as he kept his strong arm around Stiles waist to
keep him from trying to get off him.
“I know" was all Stiles was able to say before going quiet once more.
This was the worst two and half weeks of his life.
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