Fic: Alpha's Boy : Peter Hale/Stiles Stilinski : NC17
Author: → skargasm
Title: → Alpha’s Boy
Rating: → Explicit (NC17)
Pairing/s: → Peter Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Summary: → He did it all to protect the people that he loved.
Warnings: → This is dark and completely non-con, although nothing explicit. Canon character death and non-canon character death.
Submission Type: → Fic
Word Count: → 2438
Prompt: #80 : Stain @ fullmoon-ficlet & Prompt: #420: Flail @ tamingthemuse
Author's Notes: → Only available at fullmoon-ficlet until Saturday when it will be posted onto spikecentric and AO3. The flail was not his favourite. It certainly wasn’t the worst instrument in the ‘toy’ cupboard but for some reason, Stiles always felt the flail deeply. It probably explained why Peter used it so often-he liked to say it gave Stiles much needed ‘focus’.
Seeing it laid out on the bedside table, Stiles knew he was in for a long night. Holding back a sigh, he headed to the bathroom to prepare himself. He knew better than to skimp on those preparations-there were occasions when Peter got carried away and forgot that Stiles was human and wouldn’t heal as quickly from the damage an aroused werewolf could cause. Peter didn’t care about the pain he inflicted-it was probably part of it for him-but he also didn’t appreciate having to abstain because Stiles was physically unable to handle anything further. The last time hadn’t gone well-Stiles shuddered, thinking of what had happened to his ‘replacement’. Peter had been under instructions from Deaton that penetrative sex would probably damage Stiles permanently, and Peter had smiled and nodded and agreed. All the while with that glint in his eye that made Stiles quake inside.
That night Peter had brought in one of Stiles’ former classmates. To his shame, he couldn’t remember their name-it was hard to hang onto what things had been like ‘before’. But he would never forget what it was like to be tied beneath the boy, forced to watch the agony on his face as Peter beat him with one of the heavy paddles, then fucked him with no regard for lube or his human frailty. The whole time, the Alpha had stared down into Stiles’ eyes, warning him not to dare look away, the sensual lips twisted in a cruel smile as he savaged the body writhing between them. By the time he’d finished, climbing from the bed and tossing the young man to the floor, Stiles’ had bitten through his lip in his attempts not to cry out, beg for mercy, or worse still tell Peter just what he really thought of him. He knew how that would end-he had been there for what Peter had done to Derek when his nephew had disobeyed him one time too many-when their attempts to kill the feral alpha had failed and Chris and Kate Argent lay dead on the ground in front of the former Hale home.
Derek had made his move but the flaming arrow from Allison narrowly missed its target and enabled Peter in his alpha form to ignore the chemicals dowsing his fur. He’d ripped Derek’s throat out with his teeth before turning on Allison, blood dripping from his fangs, claws covered in gore. Her arrows had seemed to cause him no discomfort at all and he ignored them as she fired desperately into him. Scott lay in a heap not far from her, neck snapped from his attempt to beat the alpha. Stiles was stuck near to Scott, no weapons available, all of the chemical bombs that remained with Lydia and Jackson who seemed frozen in shock. He’d in essence been complete defenceless. By the time Peter finished with Allison, Lydia and Jackson had turned tail and ran, hopefully to get reinforcements and Stiles was left facing the feral alpha.
Alone.
“Do you want to save them?”
“I-“
“Do you Stiles? Look around Stiles-Derek won’t heal from that and Allison is nothing but meat now. But Scott-well, I could help Scott heal. But I want something from you first.”
“What the hell could you want from me you psychotic bastard?” He’d been confused, completely unable to comprehend what he could have that the Alpha would want.
“Why, you Stiles. I want you. You come to me-willingly-and I’ll let them live. I’ll leave your father alone. Hell, I’ll even accept Scott as my beta-somehow I don’t think he’d make it as an omega with what’s coming.” It had been a weird experience, talking to Peter in his half-shifted state; his words were more understandable than Stiles had expected and he’d been fixated by the fact that he could tell it was Peter even beneath that animalistic face. Neither Scott or Derek had ever looked like this in front him.
“What do you mean-what’s coming?”
“An Alpha pack. Think of it, Stiles. A whole pack of Alphas and poor little Scott. We all know he only managed to figure out what he was because of you. He’s not the sharpest crayon in the box is he? He might be true of heart but that won’t help him with Deucalion and Kali and their little band of merry murderers. In fact, I’d go so far as to say it will stand against him-how would he cope without his mother, say? Or even the father he claims to hate so much? You look surprised-I heard a lot while I was in my coma. Enough to have made plans and contingencies. I could protect them all Stiles and all I would want in exchange is your promise.”
“I-what-look, I-“
“Tick tock, tick tock. The lovely red-head and the pretty boy will be back soon-no doubt with some of Beacon Hill’s finest. Of course, what chance do they really stand against me? Do you want to see that-watch your father die? Deputies who no doubt babysat you when you spent your childhood days at the station? You could prevent all of that-all I need from you is your word.”
“What’s to stop me from agreeing then planning something?” He cursed his wayward tongue, wishing he had kept his thoughts to himself. Because Peter was right-all he had to do was run and hide because they certainly hadn’t been able to find him before, then attack them when they weren’t ready. Chris and Kate were gone-other hunters might be on their way but it would be too late by then.
“You mean you might consider breaking your word? Tsk tsk, Stiles, I’m surprised at you. The stain on your honour would be irreparable, but more than that, my contingency plans would make you pay. Because I guarantee you, if something happens to me, the plans I have put in place will ensure that your life becomes a barren wasteland. Make your mind up-now.”
“What exactly do you want?” He couldn’t help but stall-there had to be some way to beat this. Scott was stirring and maybe he could fight Peter off long enough for the cavalry to arrive? If it arrived. If anyone believed Lydia and Jackson when they said that a feral alpha werewolf was killing people in the woods. Oh God.
“I want you. You fascinate me. I want to figure out what makes you tick, want to burrow into that head of yours and figure you out. I don’t want to bite you-I want to own you. Body and soul although I’ll take the body if that’s all I can get. Decision time-Scott’s stirring and I can either solidify the alpha bond or I can kill him. Make your mind up.”
“How do I know that you won’t just kill them anyway?” His words were bitter as he realised there was very little he could do. If Peter was telling the truth-about the alpha pack, about the plans he had in place, Stiles was effectively trapped. For now.
“I won’t need to. You can stay the Sheriff’s little boy a bit longer-we can date and fall in love if that makes it easier for you. I’m sure he’ll understand the lure of an older man, especially as he’s been so absent in your life. Grief can do funny things to people-he might not even be surprised that your tastes run to someone who could be seen as a sort of father figure. We can work with his guilt. Besides, he loves you and wants you to be happy-I’m sure you can convince him that I’m the man of your dreams. And Scott-well, once he accepts the alpha bond there will be no struggle from him.”
“My dad won’t-“
“You will need to convince him. After all, his life depends on it.” The sounds of sirens came through loud and clear and Stiles realised he was out of time. “Decision time-shall I slit Scott’s throat? Let him join my nephew and my niece as pieces of the puzzle that didn’t fit and had to be disposed of? Come on Stiles-maybe it won’t be so bad.” The sounds of a group of people tramping through the trees was loud and then Stiles heard his father’s voice calling his name.
“You swear you won’t hurt them-ANY of them?”
“I swear your little group of people will be safe.” Even though he heard how carefully Peter worded his promise, Stiles knew he was out of time. And out of choices.
“Fine. I give my word.” He’d hissed as Peter had suddenly lunged at him, slicing into the palm of his hand before licking at the blood. Mesmerised, Stiles had found himself unable to do anything as Peter sliced into his own palm and pressed their hands together.
“There-our fates are intertwined. I look forward to claiming you boy. Good luck explaining all of this. And remember-your father’s continued good health relies on you being convincing.” Then Peter was gone in a blur and Stiles was stood by his slowly reviving best friend and four corpses.
~ o o O o o ~
A quick look at the clock and he realised that his reminiscing had taken up too much of his time-he was barely able to finish showering and cleaning himself out, slicking himself up before he had to scramble to be in position on the floor. He could hear Peter’s footsteps on the stair and cursed, jumping to his feet and grabbing the flail so that he could lay it next to him. To demonstrate his willingness and acquiescence. To emphasise that he would do as he was told whether he wanted to or not. Dropping to his knees, he fell forward until he was curled in child’s pose, waiting. The door opened and he tensed slightly, keeping his eyes on the ground through sheer willpower. Steps came closer and Pete’s shoes were in his eye line. There was a splatter of blood on one of them, the dark red gleaming obscenely against the polished leather. Fuck fuck fuck, it was going to be one of those nights.
He managed not to flinch when he felt Peter’s hands running down the smooth line of his back, hissing slightly as a claw flicked out and drew a line against his skin. Razor sharp, the pain took a moment to strike him as his skin split and he bit his lip to hold back a moan.
“Oh the day I have had-so glad to see you are ready and prepared for me Stiles. I wonder, does it still bother you - dropping to your knees for me, taking me into your mouth and sucking me dry, all the time knowing I hold the power of life and death over your nearest and dearest? Or are you resigned to your position? Somehow I don’t think so-it does tend to make this all the more delicious you know.” As he spoke, Peter’s finger continued its’ journey until it was just at the top of the crack of Stiles’ ass. Closing his eyes, Stiles tried to concentrate, realising that Peter was carving the letter ‘P’ into his skin with an inward shudder of horror. “Pass me the flail would you dear boy? I have a hankering to see your skin all pink and warmed up for me before I take my pleasure in your oh so willing body.”
He did as he was told, handing over the flail whilst trying to prepare himself mentally for what was to follow. He closed his eyes, determinedly picturing all of the people he was doing this for-the people he was protecting. Peter was ruthless-Stiles had seen him kill for revenge, for sport, just because he was bored. But he had kept his word-none of Stiles’ family or chosen circle had been touched. It was the only thing that made it possible for Stiles’ to look any of them in the eye when they tried to talk to him about his ‘worrying’ romantic choices; when he had to lie to his father yet again about the source of a bruise he had been unable to hide. The alpha pack had swept through Beacon Hills and it was only Peter’s strength as the Hale Alpha with his rapidly growing pack that had saved them all from bloodshed. Better the devil you know and the price you are prepared to pay than mutiny and potentially losing everything that meant anything to him at all.
“Oh no no, that won’t do. I want to see the hate in your eyes. You will look at me and you will count these out and if you miss one, I shall start again. Do you understand?” For a moment, Stiles was prepared to mutiny, not sure he could do what Peter was demanding. This was a new form of torture, not something Peter had insisted on before. He couldn’t do it-this was too much. There was no way-“Did I tell you Scott has petitioned to see some girl? Kira I believe her name is. She seems nice enough and he’s been so lonely since Allison. You wouldn’t want to cost him his chance to be happy again after so long now would you Stiles? Because you and I both know he won’t do anything without his Alpha’s approval. And of course, if she belongs to Scott that’s one more life you’re protecting, isn’t it?” Stiles could hear the slap-slap sound as Peter tapped the flail against the palm of his hand, obviously waiting.
Stiles swallowed his rage, shifted forward on his knees until he could get into proper position against the bottom edge of the bed. He stretched out his arms until he could grab hold of the edges of the mattress, spread his knees slightly so that he was at the right height to drop is head onto the bed. Then, tiredly and with resignation, he opened his eyes and turned his head, looking at Peter for the first time since he had entered the room.
“Good boy.”
Title: → Alpha’s Boy
Rating: → Explicit (NC17)
Pairing/s: → Peter Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Summary: → He did it all to protect the people that he loved.
Warnings: → This is dark and completely non-con, although nothing explicit. Canon character death and non-canon character death.
Submission Type: → Fic
Word Count: → 2438
Prompt: #80 : Stain @ fullmoon-ficlet & Prompt: #420: Flail @ tamingthemuse
Author's Notes: → Only available at fullmoon-ficlet until Saturday when it will be posted onto spikecentric and AO3. The flail was not his favourite. It certainly wasn’t the worst instrument in the ‘toy’ cupboard but for some reason, Stiles always felt the flail deeply. It probably explained why Peter used it so often-he liked to say it gave Stiles much needed ‘focus’.
Seeing it laid out on the bedside table, Stiles knew he was in for a long night. Holding back a sigh, he headed to the bathroom to prepare himself. He knew better than to skimp on those preparations-there were occasions when Peter got carried away and forgot that Stiles was human and wouldn’t heal as quickly from the damage an aroused werewolf could cause. Peter didn’t care about the pain he inflicted-it was probably part of it for him-but he also didn’t appreciate having to abstain because Stiles was physically unable to handle anything further. The last time hadn’t gone well-Stiles shuddered, thinking of what had happened to his ‘replacement’. Peter had been under instructions from Deaton that penetrative sex would probably damage Stiles permanently, and Peter had smiled and nodded and agreed. All the while with that glint in his eye that made Stiles quake inside.
That night Peter had brought in one of Stiles’ former classmates. To his shame, he couldn’t remember their name-it was hard to hang onto what things had been like ‘before’. But he would never forget what it was like to be tied beneath the boy, forced to watch the agony on his face as Peter beat him with one of the heavy paddles, then fucked him with no regard for lube or his human frailty. The whole time, the Alpha had stared down into Stiles’ eyes, warning him not to dare look away, the sensual lips twisted in a cruel smile as he savaged the body writhing between them. By the time he’d finished, climbing from the bed and tossing the young man to the floor, Stiles’ had bitten through his lip in his attempts not to cry out, beg for mercy, or worse still tell Peter just what he really thought of him. He knew how that would end-he had been there for what Peter had done to Derek when his nephew had disobeyed him one time too many-when their attempts to kill the feral alpha had failed and Chris and Kate Argent lay dead on the ground in front of the former Hale home.
Derek had made his move but the flaming arrow from Allison narrowly missed its target and enabled Peter in his alpha form to ignore the chemicals dowsing his fur. He’d ripped Derek’s throat out with his teeth before turning on Allison, blood dripping from his fangs, claws covered in gore. Her arrows had seemed to cause him no discomfort at all and he ignored them as she fired desperately into him. Scott lay in a heap not far from her, neck snapped from his attempt to beat the alpha. Stiles was stuck near to Scott, no weapons available, all of the chemical bombs that remained with Lydia and Jackson who seemed frozen in shock. He’d in essence been complete defenceless. By the time Peter finished with Allison, Lydia and Jackson had turned tail and ran, hopefully to get reinforcements and Stiles was left facing the feral alpha.
Alone.
“Do you want to save them?”
“I-“
“Do you Stiles? Look around Stiles-Derek won’t heal from that and Allison is nothing but meat now. But Scott-well, I could help Scott heal. But I want something from you first.”
“What the hell could you want from me you psychotic bastard?” He’d been confused, completely unable to comprehend what he could have that the Alpha would want.
“Why, you Stiles. I want you. You come to me-willingly-and I’ll let them live. I’ll leave your father alone. Hell, I’ll even accept Scott as my beta-somehow I don’t think he’d make it as an omega with what’s coming.” It had been a weird experience, talking to Peter in his half-shifted state; his words were more understandable than Stiles had expected and he’d been fixated by the fact that he could tell it was Peter even beneath that animalistic face. Neither Scott or Derek had ever looked like this in front him.
“What do you mean-what’s coming?”
“An Alpha pack. Think of it, Stiles. A whole pack of Alphas and poor little Scott. We all know he only managed to figure out what he was because of you. He’s not the sharpest crayon in the box is he? He might be true of heart but that won’t help him with Deucalion and Kali and their little band of merry murderers. In fact, I’d go so far as to say it will stand against him-how would he cope without his mother, say? Or even the father he claims to hate so much? You look surprised-I heard a lot while I was in my coma. Enough to have made plans and contingencies. I could protect them all Stiles and all I would want in exchange is your promise.”
“I-what-look, I-“
“Tick tock, tick tock. The lovely red-head and the pretty boy will be back soon-no doubt with some of Beacon Hill’s finest. Of course, what chance do they really stand against me? Do you want to see that-watch your father die? Deputies who no doubt babysat you when you spent your childhood days at the station? You could prevent all of that-all I need from you is your word.”
“What’s to stop me from agreeing then planning something?” He cursed his wayward tongue, wishing he had kept his thoughts to himself. Because Peter was right-all he had to do was run and hide because they certainly hadn’t been able to find him before, then attack them when they weren’t ready. Chris and Kate were gone-other hunters might be on their way but it would be too late by then.
“You mean you might consider breaking your word? Tsk tsk, Stiles, I’m surprised at you. The stain on your honour would be irreparable, but more than that, my contingency plans would make you pay. Because I guarantee you, if something happens to me, the plans I have put in place will ensure that your life becomes a barren wasteland. Make your mind up-now.”
“What exactly do you want?” He couldn’t help but stall-there had to be some way to beat this. Scott was stirring and maybe he could fight Peter off long enough for the cavalry to arrive? If it arrived. If anyone believed Lydia and Jackson when they said that a feral alpha werewolf was killing people in the woods. Oh God.
“I want you. You fascinate me. I want to figure out what makes you tick, want to burrow into that head of yours and figure you out. I don’t want to bite you-I want to own you. Body and soul although I’ll take the body if that’s all I can get. Decision time-Scott’s stirring and I can either solidify the alpha bond or I can kill him. Make your mind up.”
“How do I know that you won’t just kill them anyway?” His words were bitter as he realised there was very little he could do. If Peter was telling the truth-about the alpha pack, about the plans he had in place, Stiles was effectively trapped. For now.
“I won’t need to. You can stay the Sheriff’s little boy a bit longer-we can date and fall in love if that makes it easier for you. I’m sure he’ll understand the lure of an older man, especially as he’s been so absent in your life. Grief can do funny things to people-he might not even be surprised that your tastes run to someone who could be seen as a sort of father figure. We can work with his guilt. Besides, he loves you and wants you to be happy-I’m sure you can convince him that I’m the man of your dreams. And Scott-well, once he accepts the alpha bond there will be no struggle from him.”
“My dad won’t-“
“You will need to convince him. After all, his life depends on it.” The sounds of sirens came through loud and clear and Stiles realised he was out of time. “Decision time-shall I slit Scott’s throat? Let him join my nephew and my niece as pieces of the puzzle that didn’t fit and had to be disposed of? Come on Stiles-maybe it won’t be so bad.” The sounds of a group of people tramping through the trees was loud and then Stiles heard his father’s voice calling his name.
“You swear you won’t hurt them-ANY of them?”
“I swear your little group of people will be safe.” Even though he heard how carefully Peter worded his promise, Stiles knew he was out of time. And out of choices.
“Fine. I give my word.” He’d hissed as Peter had suddenly lunged at him, slicing into the palm of his hand before licking at the blood. Mesmerised, Stiles had found himself unable to do anything as Peter sliced into his own palm and pressed their hands together.
“There-our fates are intertwined. I look forward to claiming you boy. Good luck explaining all of this. And remember-your father’s continued good health relies on you being convincing.” Then Peter was gone in a blur and Stiles was stood by his slowly reviving best friend and four corpses.
~ o o O o o ~
A quick look at the clock and he realised that his reminiscing had taken up too much of his time-he was barely able to finish showering and cleaning himself out, slicking himself up before he had to scramble to be in position on the floor. He could hear Peter’s footsteps on the stair and cursed, jumping to his feet and grabbing the flail so that he could lay it next to him. To demonstrate his willingness and acquiescence. To emphasise that he would do as he was told whether he wanted to or not. Dropping to his knees, he fell forward until he was curled in child’s pose, waiting. The door opened and he tensed slightly, keeping his eyes on the ground through sheer willpower. Steps came closer and Pete’s shoes were in his eye line. There was a splatter of blood on one of them, the dark red gleaming obscenely against the polished leather. Fuck fuck fuck, it was going to be one of those nights.
He managed not to flinch when he felt Peter’s hands running down the smooth line of his back, hissing slightly as a claw flicked out and drew a line against his skin. Razor sharp, the pain took a moment to strike him as his skin split and he bit his lip to hold back a moan.
“Oh the day I have had-so glad to see you are ready and prepared for me Stiles. I wonder, does it still bother you - dropping to your knees for me, taking me into your mouth and sucking me dry, all the time knowing I hold the power of life and death over your nearest and dearest? Or are you resigned to your position? Somehow I don’t think so-it does tend to make this all the more delicious you know.” As he spoke, Peter’s finger continued its’ journey until it was just at the top of the crack of Stiles’ ass. Closing his eyes, Stiles tried to concentrate, realising that Peter was carving the letter ‘P’ into his skin with an inward shudder of horror. “Pass me the flail would you dear boy? I have a hankering to see your skin all pink and warmed up for me before I take my pleasure in your oh so willing body.”
He did as he was told, handing over the flail whilst trying to prepare himself mentally for what was to follow. He closed his eyes, determinedly picturing all of the people he was doing this for-the people he was protecting. Peter was ruthless-Stiles had seen him kill for revenge, for sport, just because he was bored. But he had kept his word-none of Stiles’ family or chosen circle had been touched. It was the only thing that made it possible for Stiles’ to look any of them in the eye when they tried to talk to him about his ‘worrying’ romantic choices; when he had to lie to his father yet again about the source of a bruise he had been unable to hide. The alpha pack had swept through Beacon Hills and it was only Peter’s strength as the Hale Alpha with his rapidly growing pack that had saved them all from bloodshed. Better the devil you know and the price you are prepared to pay than mutiny and potentially losing everything that meant anything to him at all.
“Oh no no, that won’t do. I want to see the hate in your eyes. You will look at me and you will count these out and if you miss one, I shall start again. Do you understand?” For a moment, Stiles was prepared to mutiny, not sure he could do what Peter was demanding. This was a new form of torture, not something Peter had insisted on before. He couldn’t do it-this was too much. There was no way-“Did I tell you Scott has petitioned to see some girl? Kira I believe her name is. She seems nice enough and he’s been so lonely since Allison. You wouldn’t want to cost him his chance to be happy again after so long now would you Stiles? Because you and I both know he won’t do anything without his Alpha’s approval. And of course, if she belongs to Scott that’s one more life you’re protecting, isn’t it?” Stiles could hear the slap-slap sound as Peter tapped the flail against the palm of his hand, obviously waiting.
Stiles swallowed his rage, shifted forward on his knees until he could get into proper position against the bottom edge of the bed. He stretched out his arms until he could grab hold of the edges of the mattress, spread his knees slightly so that he was at the right height to drop is head onto the bed. Then, tiredly and with resignation, he opened his eyes and turned his head, looking at Peter for the first time since he had entered the room.
“Good boy.”