Authors Note: Wow! I didn't expect that kind of response! I update my original teen wolf fic every Monday (Break Loyalties) but I think this will be more irregular. Basically whenever I finish a chapter, so it may be a few days or a week or two. Thanks for all the reviews! Keep them up please!

This won't be a slash slash, no smut or anything. Because I don't like reading that and I certainly can't write that.

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"Well, as you put it, some 'werewolf mumbo jumbo magic'" His fingers edged lightly on air quotes as he looked up, noting the full moon that hung glaring down in the night sky.

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Stiles could feel his eyes growing red; stinging from the damp salty touch of welled up tears building in his eyes from fear- Fear. His face scrunched up, squeezing his eyes tight together as he felt Peter inch closer.

The werewolf's claw gently scooted up and down the grey cotton shirt that clung to Stiles body, now becoming slightly coated in a frightened sweat. "You seem a little bit scared" Peter remarked, noting how Stiles heart beat sped up to the flutter of a hummingbirds, practically beating out of his chest.

The sound of the erratic thumping of the heart filled Stiles ears, so loud that Peter's words were muffled. Or maybe Stiles just didn't want to hear them anymore, didn't want to hear that voice, didn't want to be sitting in the ally with a wolf hungrily lurched over his paralyzed body.

Suddenly Stiles felt the cool breeze nip at his hips, which for some reason became exposed to the chilling wind. Stiles opened his eyes, only to find a pair of pale, yet structured hands, teasing on the end lining of his shirt, slowly lifting it up, revealing a flattened stomach to the world.

Peter's hands were wrapped loosely in the bottom fabric of the shirt, pulling it up, lifting Stiles back from against the wall. The shirt scooted off the pale body with ease.

Blood immediately rushed to Stiles face, feeling a flushed hue overtake his face. The shirt had risen all the way past his nipples before he managed to stutter out "What the hell are you doing?" He panted out in confusion as his focus drew from his ascending shirt to the hands linked to the cloth.

"I feel that should be obvious." Peter replied and with a quick yanking motion, jutted the shirt off over the limp limbs and pulled the shirt off over the buzzed head.

Stiles stared wide eyed as he felt the full force of the cold night against his naked torso. He knew he should feel angry, pissed off at the wolf. But all he could feel was embarrassed as his lack of hip dents and abs reflected in the short glow the moonlight. He had seen enough girls woo over the defined features so craved on men, the hardened stomach, the built out chest muscles, the slight curves of the hip bones as the jutted out from the sides of a mans body. Stiles had none of that. He wasn't easily embarrassed; he still would change in the locker room in front of the other more muscular men, despite how many scrawny comments he received from Jackson. But sitting there, slumped against the stinging cold touch of worn out bricks, he felt a deep shame that he couldn't place.

His breathing became audible now, the senses of a panic attack rising him and the knot burrowing in the depths of his stomach as Peters eyes drifted from his brown eyes down the coarse of his body.

Oh God Stiles thought, Oh God. His thoughts spun out to a million things as his shirtless exterior fed out a sexual fear in Stiles. Peter can't be gay. And if he were it wouldn't be for me. Gay guys don't find me attractive. But what if there's some werewolf mating season and it just so happens to be now and I'm the most acceptable looking thing on the menu. Oh god. Oh no. Not now. This can not be happening.

Peter let out a quick murmuring chuckle. He gently placed the forefront of his finger on the tip of Stiles chest, right above where Stiles heart was. The pounding of the heart was so powerful and rapid that Peter saw his finger tremble and thump in the same frantic rhythm on top of the cold skin.

"Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit" Stiles began to murmur, once again closing his eyes in terror. Another light chuckle came from the wolf's lips. "Don't worry," The elder cooed out, obviously sensing the fear that radiated off of Stiles skin in a sickly scent. "It's not what you're thinking."

"What?" Stiles asked, trying to keep his tone even to prevent himself from hyperventilating.

"While that would, how do I put it, bond you to me," Peter whispered out, his lips nearly inches from Stiles face. The young teen could feel the warm breath hit his blushed cheeks. "I have no desire for that. And from the way you're reeking of fear, I'd say neither do you."

Stiles couldn't help but let out a small breath of relief slip from his lips. Safe to be a virgin for yet another day- Or year- Or however long it would take Lydia to open her eyes and see the quirky teen.

"But," Peter's voice emptied out into the night air. Stiles heart froze at the word. "What I will do may be much worse."

But in the end, so much better- For the both of us. Peter thought darkly as Stiles face froze up again.

Peter delicately pressed his entire palm on the top of Stiles rapidly beating heart. Stiles stared at the hand with wide eyes.

The elder wolf took in a deep breath before he plunged his nail of his index finger right above the young boy's heart. Stiles let out a harsh gasp and his face winced in pain as the finger dug down into his flesh, piercing the first layer of skin, and soon enough letting a small oozing of blood out.

Stiles face was cringed together, his eyes stabbed closed to keep the pain at edge. He could feel the finger, twisted down into his rib cage, sliming through his blood stream.

And with a movement less than a jerk, Peters hand trailed upward, dragging his descended finger up Stiles body, carving a canyon of open blood on Stiles chest. Stiles let out a small yelp, biting his lip to keep a scream held in. His flesh was being ripped open.

Hesitantly, Stiles looked down, peeking open his eyes ever so slightly. But the sight of the blood traced from the finger and the cavern nearly an inch wide made him nauseous as he threw his head back, trying to ignore the pain that shot through his body.

Peter continued to drag his finger through Stiles chest- Up and over, creating a small circle around Stiles heart and curving again down below his nipple.

Stiles let out a series of small gasping noises as Peter made a long drag across Stiles entire chest, moving over the next side and beginning another small matching circle.

"Stop" Stiles moaned out. He could feel the blood trickling down his chest, pooling in his belly button before sliding off over his sides.

A sharp line was made, cutting down the middle of Stiles chest, nicking his rib bones and cracking one with Peter's strength.

Another loop twirled around his flesh, another line, and another painful groan escaped Stiles lips as his breaths shortened, nearing the point of hyperventilation. But Peter couldn't focus on Stiles pain, he just pleaded the young teen would live through it.

The finger squirmed, digging through the flesh with ease. Stiles could feel it touching his bones. Nothing was ever supposed to feel that way, he wasn't supposed to have feelings on his rib bones, but he could still feel the icy sting of Peters nail as it scraped over.

And finally, it ended. Peter withdrew his blood stained finger from Stiles chest, staring down with a wicked smile at the work he had made. A masterpiece soaked in blood and moonlight.

Stiles was too petrified to open his eyes, too scared to see what had been defiled on his chest. The pain was still burning, passing the numbing point and it began to sting violently.

Stiles finally let out a full fledged scream, his eyes growing wide at the seeping blood. He hadn't expected this much; it was flowing out of his body, pouring down his chest, and rivers of his blood leaking freely. He was human- he wouldn't heal from this. "What, what the hell- WHAT THE HELL IS THIS?"

"Ah" Peter said thoughtfully, running his fingers through his scruff layered on his chin. Some of Stiles blood resting on his finger transferred to the beard, rooting itself in a crusty vile sense to the hair on his face. "I almost forgot."

He extended his claws once again and made a small slash at his own wrist and soon his own blood began to leak out of the cut.

Carefully, Peter balanced his dripping wrist over Stiles fresh wounds and watched with a gleam in his eye as the wolf blood fell down into the wound.

Another yelp flew from Stiles lips. It burned, acid seeping down into the wound, stinging and tearing at every crease Peter man. "Stop…" Stiles begged, "Please, just stop!"

Peter held his wrist there for another moment as his own crimson liquid melded with Stiles in the caverns of his chest. The pain caused Stiles back to arch off the brick wall, despite the Kanima poisoning. His face was twisted in several spots, eyes squished, lips curled, as the pain seared through his body.

"Done." Peter remarked, satisfied at the blood scribbles across Stiles chest. His wrist fell to his side and immediately began to heal from his werewolf nature.

"DONE?" Stiles shouted. "WHAT DID YOU DO?" Stiles gnawed on his upper lip as the pain began to recede, leaving a dull ache in it's place.

"No spoilers here Stiles." Peter wagged his finger at the distressed teen. "If I tell you it would very undo everything. Besides, you'll find out soon enough."

"Peter!" Stiles exclaimed. "Tell me! What the hell did you do to MY body?"

Stiles was sick of the lack of answers, he was sick of not knowing. It was like every day in his life- he had no control. He didn't know what would happen, what new werewolf drama would spring up. He didn't know how to cure Scott. He didn't know how to repair his fathers relationship and get his job back. He didn't know how to stop the hunters, prevent Erika and Boyd from their own stupidity, and he didn't know how to pass chemistry or anything. He didn't know anything and in the dull light, the ignorance was killing him.

"I can't." Peter felt tempted to press his finger to his lip in a silent sign, but decided against it. "Besides, it wouldn't matter if I did, you wouldn't remember it anyways."

"Not remember it?" Stiles voice cracked half way through. It was fear, not puberty, as his voice trembled as he continued speaking. "I don't exactly forget a crazy werewolf from the grave digging holes into my freaking chest!"

Peter chuckled at Stiles despair, which only made the teen cringe harder. "Actually, you will."

Stiles swallowed every ounce of confidence in his body. "No, no I won't. I swear I won't."

"No amount of swearing will change the curse's effects Stiles." Peter was just toying with the boy now, but there was something in the way that his face shrunk back with every word, the sound that his heart made as it plummeted to the ground in terror, that Peter just found fantastic. He was back in control- he knew he would be hard pressed to find ways to make Derek or Scott submit to him. But this human, he wasn't weak. No, never weak. He was perfect in his strength. He was perfect for Peter, even in a human state. But watching him break in pain, in curiosity, it was perfect. It was the control he craved.

Peter glanced back up at the moon and his head whipped around, hearing the dark howling and panting heading in his direction.

Derek and Scott He thought bitterly. But he was finished, Stiles was his now and no matter what the pair of incompetent wolves did, that wouldn't change.

But he didn't want to risk anything. He played far too aggressive and made too many mistakes last time when he was alive. Peter would not waste this chance by not playing it safe.

Quickly he pulled out a piece of paper and a pencil from his pocket and scribbled a few words on it.

"What are you writing?" Stiles asked conservatively.

"Dear Derek, your uncle came and drew figures into my chest and then kidnapped me." Peter shot the young teen a sarcastic glare. "I'm telling him you went home."

"…And where am I actually going?"

"Shockingly you're going home. You'll wake up in your bed and you won't remember a single word of this." Peter responded.

Stiles was prepared to interject, with either sarcasm or more pleas- But he was cut short as Peters fist rammed into his temple, which rebounded the boys head against the cold wall. With a slumping motion, Stiles fell forward, the realm of unconscious taking over him.

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Scott, Derek

The Kanima stuff wore off pretty quickly and I wasn't sure when you guys would be back. I headed home to check and make sure my dad was okay. I had a bloody nose, don't worry about the blood.

Stiles

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Peter left the note where the body was, taking care to wipe up any pooled over blood with the cusp of a dirty napkin he found in the dumpster. He assumed that the wolves would be too distracted to use their senses and notice the scent of fear that had radiated off of Stiles sweat and hung in the night air.

Quickly he swooped up the unconscious teen and hurled him over his back like a potato sack. He took one quick look behind him and heard the pounding footsteps of Derek approach. With a quick grin on his face he bolted off, out of the alley, carrying Stiles like a rag doll over his back.

When he arrived at the boy's house, the upper parts of Peters jacket had been stained with Stiles blood as it had dripped off during the run. Peter flung himself up to the roof, gently knocking down the window screen and letting himself in, without a care for noise as the sheriffs car was gone from the driveway and there were no other heart beats in the house.

Carefully, Peter lowered Stiles sleeping frame onto the unmade bed in the middle of the room. He took a brief look around the room, seeing piles of clothes rotting in the corners and left over food hanging off of his desk. Little scribbled notes about werewolves hung on the shelves.

Peter looked down, and a pleased grin grew across his face as he saw the wounds on Stiles body already beginning to close and heal up- neither by human speed nor by werewolf speed, but nonetheless with a rapid pace. He could see the flesh reach out and coddle itself back to normal. The blood soaked down into Stiles skin, leaving not a trail of the crimson liquid. Aside from the distressed look across the boys face he looked normal.

Well, except for the white scars that formed across his chest, marking the places that Peter had traced in the moonlight.

Scanning the room, Peter eyed a plain white shirt in a pile crumpled over the figure of a beat up bean bag chair. Swiftly he grabbed it and hauled it over to Stiles resting figure. He looked down with difficulty, wondering how he would manage to strap the shirt over the brunettes head. But after several tries and awkward positioning with the sleeping boy, he managed to fit the white shirt over the buzzed head.

Peter shifted the boy into what seemed like a natural sleeping position, at least as natural as sleeping got for a teenager. He approached the window ready to take his leave, but not before one last glance back at the teen. Peter could practically feel the skin healing in his own chest, leaving pale white scars as a reminder of what happened- though Stiles would not remember it. The teen was beginning to snore, stumbling out of unconsciousness and into sleep. He would have a slight headache and some swelling from the hit, but Peter knew that wouldn't deter the teen at all.

With a grin of satisfaction, Peter turned away from his fond new project and leapt out the window, landing softly on the uncut grass and heading off into the night as the sun began to creep out.

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Authors Note: THAT NEW EPISODE. OH MY GOSH. STILES. SO MUCH STILES. *spoiler* STILES THOUGHTS AT THE FIRST 5 MINUTES, STILES PLAYING LACROSSE, LYDIA SMILING AT STILES, STILES GETTING FREAKING KIDNAPPED. BEST. EPISODE. All of it was almost better than the pool scene.

Sorry, had to get that off of my chest. Anyways, here's an update! Not sure when the next one will be since school starts next week, but oh well!

Please review! Right now I'm set up for at least 4 chapters, but I don't know how it will end. It sucks that I only started this now, since the season finale is next episode! Oh well. Review!