Set at the time of Common Ground (S3:E7) if Kolya did not have a pet wraith or an army. Basically, he has nothing left but rage and the desire to take revenge on John Sheppard.
So I erased that Wincest series I've been writing like forever now. I was having a harder and harder time going back to it because I was in a dark place when I started it and the story itself just kept getting darker and darker and I had to keep adding trigger warnings to it, which is kind of funny, cause I didn't realize it was fucking with me too until I had 150K words and started having nightmares.
So.
It's gone. I know some people who follow me here were keeping track of it and the last time I mentioned deleting it, they asked me not to. But I couldn't finish it and I wasn't gonna let it sit there unfinished. However, I did save a chapter that's not too dark, Sam and Dean's first time together in the back of the impala, and I sort of liked it and thought it was hot so that's still on my AO3 if anyone is interested.
I just wanted to apologize for dragging it along for months and two dozen chapters later just deciding to get rid of the whole thing. If I was the one reading it, I would have been ticked off too.
Disclaimer: If I owned Teen Wolf I wouldn't be writing shitty slash fics in my underwear.
Trigger warning for non-con / rape.
Stiles was half asleep in his creative writing class, sitting in the back row near the windows. The buzzing of his phone going off made him sit up straight in his seat. He started coughing loudly in an attempt to cover the noise while he looked for his phone. He dug through one pocket, then the other, then the chest pockets of his dad’s flannel shirt he was wearing over his t shirt, all the time coughing loudly, He started digging through his bag, pulling out crumpled candy wrappers and stabbing his hand with a pencil until he found it and silenced it. He checked the caller ID.
Derek Hale.
Hoping he hadn’t acquired too much attention, Stiles looked up to see his whole class staring at him. “Having trouble, mister Stilinski?” His teacher asked.
“Sorry, Mr. Harris,” Stiles said in his attempt at a hoarse voice, "bad cough. Can I get some water?”
“You seem fine to me.” Harris remarked, who turned back to the board and continued writing out the notes.
“Well uh, I really have to go anyway, so…”
“I think you can wait the ten minutes until class is over, mister Stilinski.” The teacher drawled.
“You’d think so,” Stiles said, “but was really tired this morning, you know, from studying, so I had myself two big cups of coffee, one cream, two sugars, and now, god, it’s like my small intestines are strangling my stomach like a boa con-” Harris cut him off as he slammed down his chalk on his desk.
“Oh, for the love of god, just go! Take your things with! I don’t even want to look at you! Now that you’ve thoroughly disgusting each and every one of us, thank you for that, just go.”
Stiles grabbed his bag and hurried through the rows of desks filled with his now snickering classmates, bumping into a few of them.
He hurried down the hall to the boys’ bathroom. As soon as he was in a stall he pulled out his phone and called Derek back.
“Get over here, now.” The man’s voice growled.
“Excuse me? Why the hell are you calling me? I’m in school you know, I do that, like everyday.”
“I don’t care, Stiles. I need you to come get me.”
“Come get you?” Stiles asked. “Why?”
“I got hit by one of the Argents and I need you to take me to get help.”
“What? No! I’m in school. And why are you calling me? Scott might care. Maybe even Allison, since it was her-”
“Shut up, Stiles! Look, I tried Scott, he didn’t pick up. You have a car. Come get me.”
“No way.”
“Stiles, if I bleed out, then Scott has to figure out how to survive with the Argents out there all by himself. Do you really want that?”
Stiles cursed Derek and kicked the wall. Recoiling from the pain, he muttered, “Fine. Text me your location and I’ll come get you.”
“So where exactly are we going?” Stiles asked, staring at the road ahead of him. It was heavily wooded and relatively untraveled.
“To my house.” Derek answered. He held his left hand over his right upper arm.
“Your house? No offense man, I’m sure it’s home sweet home, but really? Shouldn’t we go to the doctor? Or the vet?”
“It’s fine.” Derek growled. “I have everything I need there to take care of it.”
“Weeeell, I’m guessing you know what to do when we get there, so I’ll just drop you off and head back to school before it’s over.” He turned to see how this went over with Derek. He turned to see the werewolf glaring back at him.
“Never mind, I’m always more than happy to help.”
“That’s good to hear.”
“Yeah, well you know me.”
They drove on in silence until the jeep pulled up in front of the dilapidated old house.
Stiles followed Derek down the stairs into the basement. He gulped as he noticed the scorch marks on the wall.
“So, uh, got a medicine cabinet or something down here? Some peroxide and Band-Aids or something…”
“Not quite.” Derek called over his shoulder.
“Ok. Of course not. It has to be something creepier. Like mandrake root, or eye of newt or… Rope?”
Derek now stood in front of him, a coiled length of rope in his right hand.
“Arm of yours feeling better?” Stiles pointed out. Derek looked at his unmarked arm and then back up at the teenager. He grinned, but it was less of a smile and more of a threat.
“Much.”
“Glad to hear it. Welp, I best be off. Class and all.” He turned to head to the stairs, but Derek was already at the top of them. “Wow. That’s really unsettling when you do that. I mean, you probably knew that, since you do it so often for dramatic affect, which is cool and all. I totally would if-“
“You’re not leaving here, Stiles.” Derek said, walking back down to the foot of the stairs.
“Not until Scott agrees to join my pack.”
“This is about Scott?” Stiles cried out. He tried to push the panic away and calm down. “Look, Derek, you need to forget about Scott. I mean, if he doesn’t realize what a great alpha you are, well then that’s just his loss. I’m sure there are plenty of other werewolves out there that would love to be in your pack. Better werewolves that Scott. I mean really, Scott who? I don’t even know that guy. He sounds lame.”
Derek was starting in on him. Stiles started to back away. “My point is, there are plenty of fish in the sea, wolves in the forest, if you will. You just have to get out there and find them. Have you checked the internet? Maybe there’s an OKSirius or something-” He felt his back hit the wall. “I’m getting tired up now, aren’t I?”
“You’re getting tied up now.” Derek said.
Stiles tugged at the ropes binding his arms behind his back. He sat in a folding aluminum chair at a beat up table. “Are these ropes really necessary?” He called out to Derek, who was somewhere in the basement with him. I mean, Scott’s still at school. He doesn’t get out for another hour and a half. Then he’s got lacrosse practice. Can’t we just like, I dunno, hang out until then?”
“The ropes stay.” Derek said, directly behind him. Stiles nearly jumped out of his skin.
“Could you stop doing that? Seriously. I’m tired to a chair. You don’t have to do all that creepy werewolf stuff. I’m already freaked out. It worked, ok?”
Derek chuckled and gripped Stiles’s shoulder. “Yeah, I know. But it’s just so much fun scaring you, Stiles. You practically piss yourself every time.”
“Yeah, well I hate to disappoint you there, but I took care of that before I picked you up.” Stiles tried unsuccessfully to pull his shoulder out of the man’s grip.
“You have a major over share problem, you know that?” Derek asked as he patted Stiles’s shoulder.
“It’s been brought to my attention before.”
“Yeah, I bet…” Derek trailed off. He ran his hand along Stiles’s back to the other shoulder. “So, you and I, we have a few hours together until our friend notices you missing, right?”
“About four, give or take half an hour.”
“Is that so?” Derek began to gently rub the teen’s back.
“Or-or!” Stiles panicked, “Or he might’ve already noticed. He’s probably tracking the GPS in my phone right now.” Derek chuckled at this.
“No he’s not. Don’t lie to me.”
Stiles swallowed hard.
“So,” Derek continued. “Four hours. What should we do with the time?”
“I have some video games in my backpack” Stiles answered.
“I was thinking something a little more…” Derek stood behind the teen and lowered himself until he could whisper in his ear. “Hands on.”
Stiles felt the man’s stubble against his cheek and he felt flushed, only all over. Derek’s hand slid up his back, across his shoulders, and down his narrow chest. He jerked at the ropes binding his arms and tried to stand up, but the older man just held him down. Derek’s lips grazed his ear and he gasped. The man ran a hand through Stiles’s buzz cut and gently kissed the boy on the neck. Stiles let his head fall back for a moment, then pulled away. “What’s wrong?” Derek purred into his ear.
“What are you doing?” Stiles asked, trying not panic.
“Something I’ve been wanting to do for a while now.” Derek continued to kiss Stiles’s neck, guiding his head to the side with one hand and trailing the other one down the boy’s stomach, which tensed at the man’s touch.
“Stop.” Stiles whispers, fear creeping up on him. Derek paused for a moment, as though he were thinking about it.
“No.” He said flatly. He pulled Stiles out of the chair and seated him on the table, facing him. He studied the boy’s face before kissing him forcefully, on hand behind his head to keep Stiles from pulling back. The teen struggled with Derek, who forced a tongue into his mouth. He bit the werewolf, hoping that would turn him off, but Derek just moaned and pulled him closer. Stiles felt his skin heat up and whimpered into the man’s kiss, who took this as encouragement. He pulled the boy’s shirt up, exposing his slim stomach. Derek ran his finger tips over the pale skin and Stiles gasped. He started to pull more of the t shirt up.
“Stop!” Stiles said, trying to pull away. Derek just kissed him harder.
“I know you like it, Stiles. I can smell the arousal on you.” He slid a hand between the boy’s thighs, and felt a hard cock twitch under it. “Every time you see me, you try to fight it, but I can tell.” He stood between the teen’s legs and rubbed his own hardness against Stiles’s. “I know what you want. And I’m going to give it to you.” Stiles whimpered softly and tried to pull back. Derek slid a hand under his shirt, feeling his heart beating rapidly. He withdrew his claws and shredded the shirt to ribbons. Stiles didn’t say anything though, not when he was so helpless and Derek could do the same to him. The man gently ran those claws over his chest, smiling. Stiles inhaled sharply, the air rattling around in his lungs. The reality of the situation began to set in for him, and his still racing heart sunk.
“Please.” He whispered. “Please don’t do this.”
Derek ignored him and pulled off his own shirt. Stiles watched the muscles ripple under his skin. Derek noticed him watching and smirked. He pressed his warm body against the teen’s. “Tell me this isn’t exactly what you want.” Stiles stayed silent as the man trailed his fingers down his chest, his stomach, and started on the fly of his jeans. The boy jumped, trying to pull away but Derek snaked an arm around his waist while rubbing Stiles through the denim with the other hand, who moaned softly. The man slid his hand under the waist band of the teen’s boxers and wrapped his hand around the hard cock he found. Stiles bucked into his hand, whimpering. Derek held him tight and kissed him roughly, biting at him lips while stroking him. Stiles tentatively kissed him back, crying out when the man’s nails dug into his back. Derek pulled the boy’s head back and gently nipped at his throat, Stiles whined and twisted in his arms, but Derek held him still. He made his way down the teen’s neck to his shoulders, to his chest, licking kissing and biting the skin. He pushed Stiles down so he was lying on his back on the table and started the pull off the boy’s jeans. Stiles struggled and kicked, “No, Derek!” He cried out. “Stop!”
Derek snarled and slapped Stiles, the smile gone from his face. The boy recoiled from the force of the blow, his eyes watering. Derek held Stiles down with one hand and pulled the jeans down to the boy’s knees with the other. “No!” The boy begged, tears sliding down his face. “Please don’t do this!”
“Shut up!” Derek roared, forcing his legs open. The teen trembled under him. He dragged his nails of one hand over the boy’s sides, his ribs, admiring how he twisted and whimpered at his touch. The other hand stroked Stiles’s thigh. His hand worked its way down to the boy’s cock, giving it a squeeze before moving further down and tracing the outside of the teen’s entrance. Stiles gasped and jumped, struggling once again and Derek held him down easily. He tried to close his legs, but the man had forced himself between them. The man gently rubbed him, occasionally dipping a fingertip inside him, making Stiles cry out. Derek pulled a small bottle out of his pocket.
“Please tell me that’s hand sanitizer.”
The man looked up at Stiles. “Nope.”
Derek slicked up his fingers with the lubricant. He brought his face next to the boys, lips just touching his ear. “Relax, Stiles, this is what you want. Just lay back and enjoy it.” He pushed the teen down onto his back. The boy stayed down, whimpering as his felt Derek’s wet fingers pressing against his entrance. The man slowly slid a finger into him. Stiles gasped at the intrusion. Derek pulled his finger out and pushed it back in. The teen cried quietly as he let the man violate him. He slid another finger into Stiles, who moaned softly. “See?” Derek cooed, “It’s nice, isn’t it.” Stiles said nothing. The man curled his fingers inside him, finding something in the boy that made him yelp and jerk. Derek chuckled and repeated his action. “There we go.”
Stiles moaned as the werewolf thrust his fingers into him, writhing on the table and pushing back onto them. Derek pulled him up into a crushing kiss, continuing to finger him. He licked the tears from his face and nipped at his lips. Stiles kissed him back, desperate and longing. The man bit at his neck and added a third finger. Stiles hissed, bucking at his touch. Derek held his thighs open and twisted his fingers into the whimpering boy, making him arch his back off the table and gaining a yelp from him. The man’s cock strained against his own jeans, but he ignored it and continued working over the teen. Derek held the boy’s shoulder in a tight grip, attacking his neck while still thrusting his fingers into Stiles’s tight hole. The teen let his head fall back, panting, going the man better access to his throat. Derek pulled the soft skin into his mouth, sucking at it and rolling it between his teeth. Stiles moaned low in his throat, spreading his legs wider and letting the pleasure roll over him. Derek grinned against the teen’s neck.
“Think you’re ready for something more?” He purred. Stiles shook his head.
He pulled Stiles off the table anyway so he was standing, only to turn him around and force him back onto it, bent over. He traced his fingertips over the small of the boy’s back. “Please.” Stiles whispered. “Please.” But Derek ignored him, placing on hand between the boy’s shoulder blades to hold him down. He resumed thrusting his long fingers into the quivering boy. “I think you’re ready, Stiles. I think you want it.” Stiles shook his head. “No, please, Derek, just let me go. Please.” He begged. Derek kicked his legs as far apart as they could go with the jeans still around the boy’s ankles. Stiles heard the man’s zipper being pulled. “Please! I won’t tell anyone about this, I swear!” He struggled under Derek to no avail. The man pinned him to the table and pressed the head of his cock against the opening of Stiles’s slick hole. The boy opened his mouth to scream, but only a whimper came out. Derek slowly pushed into him and Stiles felt himself stretch around the man’s hard dick and he couldn’t breathe. The man moaned as he buried his cock deep into the teen, it took all his self-control not to just slam into him. Once he’d pushed himself all the way into the boy, up to the hilt, he stopped and the now panting Stiles a moment to get used to it before slowly pulling back out. Stiles sighed in relief, but it wasn’t long before Derek filled him up again and again and again. Derek shifted his angle while slowly thrusting and the boy under him cried out. He repeated the action to the same result. Derek began to thrust faster and with more purpose and Stiles began to moan and writhe under him. “N-no!” He whined and tried to pull away, but Derek wrapped his strong hands around the boy’s hips and held him in place. Stiles cried out and moaned and whimpered helplessly as the large man drove into him, hitting his sweet spot over and over.
The quivering teen pressed his face against the cool table as he took more and more of Derek in him, gritting his teeth. The man bent down and bit him on the shoulder, and he yelped in shock and pain and pleasure. Derek covered the boy’s mouth with his hand and fucked the struggling teen harder. Burying himself into Stiles, over and over, as he shook and cried. The teen bit the hand covering his mouth and Derek slammed into him, hard. Stiles cried and Derek wrapped the hand around his throat, fucking him harder. The werewolf could see the boy crying, but he could smell how aroused the boy really was. He drilled into the small teen and felt him shrink around him. Continuing to choke him, Derek pounded into Stiles’s ass, digging his nails into the boy’s hip and biting his ear. Stiles tried to shout, to scream, to beg for mercy, but he could barely even breathe through the werewolf’s tight grip on his throat. He felt his skin grow hot all over and begin to tighten. He twisted under Derek, it was too much for him. Derek could tell he was close and fucked him harder, faster. He could hear the boy’s heart pounding in his chest, beating erratically. “Come on, Stiles.” He growled, “I want you to come for me.”
The teen’s eyes rolled back and the man brought him closer and closer to the edge. Stiles bucked back against Derek’s flashing hips, taking as much of the man as he could fit. He whimpered through the fingers around his throat and trembled. Derek gripped the teen’s cock and pumped him, feeling Stiles beginning to spasm around his cock. Stiles screamed silently in and he began to come, Derek fucking his way through the orgasm. The teen jerked and twisted and shook as it rolled over him, hot come spurting from his dick. He bucked back against Derek one last time as the explosive orgasm took them both.
Spent, Derek pulled out of Stiles and leaned against the table, releasing his throat. The teen lay there, gasping and gulping as much air as he could. The werewolf let out his claws and cut the ropes that bound the boy’s arms. He tucked himself back into his pants and watched Stiles push himself up so he was standing on wobbly legs. His face was red and tear streaked. He pulled his jeans back up and gently rubbed his neck, flinching when he felt the nail marks embedded into his skin. “Can I go now?” He pleaded quietly, refusing to look up at Derek, shame all over his face as he picked up the scrap of his shirt. “Yeah, you can go.” The man said, picking up his own shirt of the ground and putting it back on.
Stiles headed towards the stairs to leave. “I won’t tell anyone about this.” Derek called after him.
The teen stopped at the foot of the stairs to say, “Trust me, neither will I.”
