Fires 05- Warning for Briefly Described non-con
Author’s Notes: Warning for brief depiction of non-con.
Summary: Derek and Stiles have been caught by a rival pack. Their alpha is far too interested in Stiles and far too eager to cause Derek to suffer. Non-con warning!
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Fires 05
Stiles glares at the rival alpha, as he grasps Stiles’ face, smiling, leering, at him. He can actually feel every strain in Derek’s muscles as he tenses and pulls at his chains. Far too close for comfort, Stiles watches the man’s grin turn into something darker. His eyes are on Stiles, but his words are obviously directed at Derek.
“What better way to prove this is our territory now than by taking the old alpha’s mate?”
Derek loses his mind. He snarls, gnashing his teeth and biting at the air, like he had the other alpha’s throat in his jaws. He’s howling, roaring in fury.
Stiles knows Derek’s hurting himself pulling against the chains. He can smell his blood from where the cuffs dig into his wrists. The pack’s not going to find them in time. Derek won’t be able to get loose. Stiles can’t fight off the alpha himself and if he tries, they’ll only hurt Derek. They’re trapped, he’s trapped and there’s no way out of this. This is going to happen and he can’t, he can’t…
He can’t panic.
He won’t beg or cry, not for himself. He won’t let his mate see him scared and think he’s failed, won’t let his pack find him ‘oh god, they were going to find him’ broken and falling apart. He can do this. There may be no way to win, but he won’t lose. More importantly, he won’t let his pack lose.
Derek’s going to tear himself apart trying to get to him. Even if Stiles can’t stop this nightmare from happening, he can do everything possible to lessen his mate’s pain and the guilt he knows will follow no matter how many times he tells Derek (with everything he had and no smell of a lie to him) that this will never be his fault.
Stiles grits his teeth, forcing a cocky smirk at the alpha on top of him. Don’t back down. Don’t be afraid. Don’t let him see you afraid.
“You really that desperate for a date?” He looks the wolf up and down, “Cause I could definitely see why.”
The alpha sneers cruelly, leaning down close to Stiles, who’s just waiting for him to go for a kiss so he can get in a good bite, draw some blood of his own.
“Humans don’t belong in packs. Weak, powerless, breakable, human.” He twists Stiles’ arm roughly and Stiles hears something crack. The teen bites through his lip, but he doesn’t cry out. “I’m gonna tear you apart. I’m gonna make you scream.”
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Stiles’ mind goes dark with pain. His back arcs and he claws at the cement underneath him, feeling his nails bend backward, split and crack and bleed. He keeps his mouth closed by sheer force of will, lips already bitten through till blood pooled in his mouth, dripped down his throat. He can’t scream or cry; he won’t give this monster the satisfaction and he won’t let Derek hear his pain as well as see it.
God, Derek’s right there, right there. He’s howling, screaming, pulling at his chains in blind rage and despair. The sounds he’s making…they’re not human, not wolf. Stiles doesn’t know what they are except pure desperate desolation.
Stiles jerks physically as he hears Derek’s bones snap, his wrists, arms, breaking and healing over and over and that, more than anything, makes him want to give in and cry and rage at the injustice of it all.
Stiles’ turns his head to the side, away from Derek. He can’t look at him while this…this, happens. He can’t bear to feel Derek looking at him, his mate forced to witness the assault.
‘If I’d have been stronger, if I’d have known they were coming for us. I should have known; been faster, better, I should’ve…’ Stiles’ thoughts spiral without his permission, as they so often do, but he can’t let himself go there now or he thinks he may never come back.
So he bites through his lip again and the pooled blood spills from the side of his mouth. Stiles’ back scratches against the cement, grating his skin beyond raw. He smashes his head back against the concrete hard enough to black out a moment, concentrating on that pain, that he caused, no one else, it was his. He had control.
His body continues to spasm and jerk in agony with every push of the werewolf above him, in him. Eyes clenched shut, he blocks it all out. Makes himself only hear a dull hum in his ears, everything else fading out into background noise. The taunting words of the monster over him, Derek’s roars that have faded into pleas (‘no, no, don’t let him make you beg’), apologies (‘not your fault, never your fault’), calling out his name (‘I’m here, I’m here, I’m here’), everything.
He smells blood.
Summary: Derek and Stiles have been caught by a rival pack. Their alpha is far too interested in Stiles and far too eager to cause Derek to suffer. Non-con warning!
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Fires 05
Stiles glares at the rival alpha, as he grasps Stiles’ face, smiling, leering, at him. He can actually feel every strain in Derek’s muscles as he tenses and pulls at his chains. Far too close for comfort, Stiles watches the man’s grin turn into something darker. His eyes are on Stiles, but his words are obviously directed at Derek.
“What better way to prove this is our territory now than by taking the old alpha’s mate?”
Derek loses his mind. He snarls, gnashing his teeth and biting at the air, like he had the other alpha’s throat in his jaws. He’s howling, roaring in fury.
Stiles knows Derek’s hurting himself pulling against the chains. He can smell his blood from where the cuffs dig into his wrists. The pack’s not going to find them in time. Derek won’t be able to get loose. Stiles can’t fight off the alpha himself and if he tries, they’ll only hurt Derek. They’re trapped, he’s trapped and there’s no way out of this. This is going to happen and he can’t, he can’t…
He can’t panic.
He won’t beg or cry, not for himself. He won’t let his mate see him scared and think he’s failed, won’t let his pack find him ‘oh god, they were going to find him’ broken and falling apart. He can do this. There may be no way to win, but he won’t lose. More importantly, he won’t let his pack lose.
Derek’s going to tear himself apart trying to get to him. Even if Stiles can’t stop this nightmare from happening, he can do everything possible to lessen his mate’s pain and the guilt he knows will follow no matter how many times he tells Derek (with everything he had and no smell of a lie to him) that this will never be his fault.
Stiles grits his teeth, forcing a cocky smirk at the alpha on top of him. Don’t back down. Don’t be afraid. Don’t let him see you afraid.
“You really that desperate for a date?” He looks the wolf up and down, “Cause I could definitely see why.”
The alpha sneers cruelly, leaning down close to Stiles, who’s just waiting for him to go for a kiss so he can get in a good bite, draw some blood of his own.
“Humans don’t belong in packs. Weak, powerless, breakable, human.” He twists Stiles’ arm roughly and Stiles hears something crack. The teen bites through his lip, but he doesn’t cry out. “I’m gonna tear you apart. I’m gonna make you scream.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Stiles’ mind goes dark with pain. His back arcs and he claws at the cement underneath him, feeling his nails bend backward, split and crack and bleed. He keeps his mouth closed by sheer force of will, lips already bitten through till blood pooled in his mouth, dripped down his throat. He can’t scream or cry; he won’t give this monster the satisfaction and he won’t let Derek hear his pain as well as see it.
God, Derek’s right there, right there. He’s howling, screaming, pulling at his chains in blind rage and despair. The sounds he’s making…they’re not human, not wolf. Stiles doesn’t know what they are except pure desperate desolation.
Stiles jerks physically as he hears Derek’s bones snap, his wrists, arms, breaking and healing over and over and that, more than anything, makes him want to give in and cry and rage at the injustice of it all.
Stiles’ turns his head to the side, away from Derek. He can’t look at him while this…this, happens. He can’t bear to feel Derek looking at him, his mate forced to witness the assault.
‘If I’d have been stronger, if I’d have known they were coming for us. I should have known; been faster, better, I should’ve…’ Stiles’ thoughts spiral without his permission, as they so often do, but he can’t let himself go there now or he thinks he may never come back.
So he bites through his lip again and the pooled blood spills from the side of his mouth. Stiles’ back scratches against the cement, grating his skin beyond raw. He smashes his head back against the concrete hard enough to black out a moment, concentrating on that pain, that he caused, no one else, it was his. He had control.
His body continues to spasm and jerk in agony with every push of the werewolf above him, in him. Eyes clenched shut, he blocks it all out. Makes himself only hear a dull hum in his ears, everything else fading out into background noise. The taunting words of the monster over him, Derek’s roars that have faded into pleas (‘no, no, don’t let him make you beg’), apologies (‘not your fault, never your fault’), calling out his name (‘I’m here, I’m here, I’m here’), everything.
He smells blood.