Theoâs Magic Space Rock: Part 1
M/M raunchy crackfick dark romance featuring evil Theo Raeken disregarding everyone elseâs notions of free will. Extremely dubious consent (regarding celestial space magic granting him the ability to dominate whoever he wants)âŠProceed if thatâs your thing! Will eventually lead to a twisted HEA for all parties. Aka everyone will be happy (thanks to mindfuckery).
Read it on AO3
Jack Apricot
Under a midnight sky, Theo Raeken sat alone on a fallen log. The sky was darker than usual, even for a New Moon. âI hate New Moons,â he said aloud to nobody but himself.
Theoâs mind was heavy with resentment and unfulfilled ambition and loneliness. The pack had rejected him again, leaving him to sulk alone. A sudden streak across the sky caught his eyeâa meteor? No, something smaller, weirder, hurtling directly toward him. Before he could react, it struck him square in the crotch, a searing pain exploding through his body. The rock, glowing with an otherworldly energy, burned through his clothes, reducing them to ash. Theo collapsed. His vision blurred as heat undulated through his veins, reshaping the very fabric of his being. The last thing he remembered the taste of ozone and iron.
He awoke at dawn, bare naked. He felt alive. His body felt sturdier but more agile, more powerful. His muscles glistened with sweat, his chest broader, his jaw sharper. But it was lower that the change was most profound: his cock, once average, now swung thick and heavy between his thighs, veined and insistent, already half-hard with an unfamiliar ache. A rut, he realized dimly through the fog clouding his mind. âWerewolves donât get ruts anymore,â he thought to himself as a flicker of curiosity emerged in his hazy mind. Heat and ruts and mating cycles were ancient history. His dick twitched at the thought of mating cycles. He needed to claim, to dominate, to breed.
Then, footsteps. Laughter. Theoâs head snapped up, nostrils flaring. Stiles Stilinski and Derek Hale, hand in hand like lovesick puppies. Derek, that brooding mutt, was making Stiles giggleâgiggle like a damn bitch. The sound grated against Theoâs raw instincts, igniting a possessive fury. They were his. No, Stiles was his. Derek was a game to play.
With a growl that rumbled from deep in his chest, Theo launched himself from the shadows. He tackled Derek first, the older werewolf slamming into the dirt with a surprised grunt. Derekâs eyes widened in shock, but Theoâs enhanced strength pinned him effortlessly. Claws extended just enough to shred Derekâs clothes, exposing his flawless olive skin to the morning light. Derek struggled briefly, his alpha instincts going haywire, but Theoâs presence was overwhelming, a tangible aura that pushed him down like gravity. Derekâs resistance crumbled. He whimpered, a pathetic whine escaping his lips.
âHeâs mine,â Theo rumbled. âStiles is mine.â
âYes, Alpha.â Derekâs voice was pitched higher than Theo had ever heard it. His eyes were wide, his pupils as dark as last nightâs new moon. âHeâs yours, Alpha.â
âCall me, sir.â Theo warned. âIâll decide if youâre worthy enough to call me alpha.â
âYessir,â Derek choked. âYes, sir.â In a surprisingly brave display, Derek bared his neck in submission.
Theo paused, caressing Derekâs exposed throat feeling the pulse quicken under his touch. Derek smelled needy, scared, butâŠhopeful?
Theo licked his own thumb, before smearing it over Derekâs throat. The contact sent Derekâs big floppy dick into a frenzy. It twitched to full mast, leaning precum like a broken sink.
He used the remnants of Derekâs clothes to bind him to a nearby tree, wrists and ankles secured tightly, leaving the naked werewolf exposed and helpless, his own cock twitching traitorously in response to Theoâs command. Derek couldâve easily torn through the makeshift binds. Both Theo and Derek knew that. They both knew, more importantly, that Derek wasnât going anywhere. Heâd stay put until Theo released him.
Meanwhile, Stiles had bolted, panic fueling his lanky legs as he crashed through the brush. It was serendipitous, Theo thought, that Stiles had gotten a head start. Chasing the bitch with his newfound preternatural speed was a fucking blast.
He tackled Stiles from behind, rolling them both to the forest floor. Stiles fought, flailing and cursingââTheo, what the fuck?!ââbut Theoâs body pinned him down, hot and unyielding.
âTheoâŠrelax.â Stiles voice sounded far away. âClearly something isâŠnot rightâŠwithâŠâ
Theo buried his face in Stilesâ neck, inhaling deeply, then began to scent-mark him: rubbing his jaw along Stilesâ skin, licking the sweat from his collarbone, grinding his massive erection against Stilesâ thigh. Theo could feel the energy from the magic space rock augmenting his pheromones, making his scent intoxicating, hypnotic. Stilesâ struggles weakened, his breaths turning shallow and needy. Wider eyes met Theoâs, shock melting into pliancy, a dazed submission taking hold as the rutâs influence seeped into him.
Theo hauled Stiles over his shoulder like a war prize. The sweet-smelling boy dangled over him like something beautiful
Theo carried his prize away to their new home, leaving Derek aloneâŠbound and whining a bitch.
___
The loftâDerekâs loftâloomed ahead. Well it used to be Derekâs loft. Now, everything that belonged to Derek belong to Theo.
It was Theoâs loft.
He reached into Stiles pocket and plucked out his key ring. He couldâve just kicked the door down, but there was something heady about using Stilesâs own set of keys to get insideâthe place where Theo would claim him for the first time.
Stiles mumbled incoherently against his back as he keyed inside. Theoâs vision turned red as he stepped inside. The intermingled scent of Stiles and Derek infuriated him.
He was going to claim every inch of this place, fuck Stiles into utter submission in every room, marking it all as his own.
Living room first. He draped Stiles across the wide leather couch, spreading his long legs apart. He spit into his palm. Thought it it wasnât necessaryâŠhis cock head was slick with thick precum, and Stilesâ hole winked in anticipation. He lined up, and drove in with one deep thrust. Stiles moaned. Raw, wrecked, back arching as Theo split him open. He savored the way his pussyboy stretched for him, feeling the tightness contracting around his dick. When Stiles made a needy sound, Theo couldnât hold back. He fucked like a piston: deep, primal strokes that slapped skin on skin, balls smacking Stilesâ cheeks with every plunge. âTake it,â he roared, fingers digging into narrow hips. âFucking take every inch, princess.â
Stiles sobbed, clawed at the cushions, but his hole clenched greedily, milking Theoâs cock like it was starving. Theo leaned down, bit the back of Stilesâ neck, and came with a roar. Hot, thick spurts flooded his bitchâs channel, marking the territory from the inside. Still rock-hard, Theo pulled out, flipped Stiles onto his back, and sank back in, watching his pretty eyes roll as he was stuffed again.
Kitchen next. Stiles bent over the granite island, wrists pinned behind his back in one massive hand. Theo fucked him standing, hips snapping so hard the countertop rattled. Stilesâ smaller cock (now noticeably tinier, flushed and dripping) bobbed uselessly with every thrust. Theo reached around, pinched a nipple, and growled, âLook at you. So fucking beautiful when youâre broken.â
Bedroom last. Derekâs bed. Theo threw Stiles onto the sheets, chuckling at the way his princess landed with a squeak. The alpha spread him wide, and mounted him missionaryâŠslow at first, letting Stiles feel every ridged inch dragging against his walls, then faster, harder, until the headboard cracked against the wall. Stiles was babbling now, wordless whimpers of gratitude and devotion, body shaking through orgasm after untouched orgasm.
For the next umpteen hours, Theo claimed him in every position. On his knees, riding reverse, face-down-ass-up, until the mattress was soaked and the room reeked of sex and ownership.
Hours later the rut finally ebbed. Theoâs mind cleared in slow, syrupy waves. He remembered the rock. The magic space rock. The burn. The cosmic power still thrumming in his veins like a second heartbeat. He looked down.
Stiles lay beneath him, wrecked and beautiful. His cock was even smaller now. Cute, petite, dainty. More of a cocklet than anythingâŠflushed pink and spent. His eyes were shining with bright vitality, pupils blown so wide they looked black. His cheeks were flushed, lips swollen pink and plump. His expression soft and easy. In other words, heâd become a living manifestation of Theoâs wet dreams.
As his clarity continued to rise, he grew curious about Stilesâ perspective on his new life. The boy had gone through a lot over the past few hours. As his alpha, it was Theoâs job to make sure he was okay.
âStiles?â Theoâs voice was raw.
He responded with a tiny, needy whimper.
âYou good baby girl?â
Stiles nodded dreamily. His eyes crossing at the motion.
The realization hit like lightning: heâd fucked the humanâs mind to pieces. Heâd literally fucked his brains out until nothing clever, sarcastic, witty, or bratty remainedâjust a sweet, empty vessel eager to be filled by his alpha.
âOh, Stiles. Youâre perfect like this.â
The boy whined his approval, struggling to nod his head and bare his neck at the same time.
Everything hit Theo at once. The image of Stiles fucked stupid. The knowledge that his dick was responsible for literally transforming the brat into his sex toy. The loft smelling like Theoâs essence, no other Alpha musk anywhere near his new home. Heâd fucked Stiles into submission. Heâd wrangled Derek into subjugation. Theoâs balls drew up tight. The magic space rockâs energy surged, white-hot, and he came without warning. Harder than heâd ever come in his life. Thick ropes of cum erupted from his cock, painting Stilesâ chest, throat, face in heavy, pearlescent streaks. It splashed across parted lips, dripped into wide eyes, soaked hair and sheets. Theo roared, hips jerking through the aftershocks, emptying every last drop until Stiles was drenched, glistening, thoroughly claimed.
He collapsed beside his dazed claim, chest heaving. He dragged a lazy hand through his seed on Stilesâ skin. The loft was his. Stiles was his. Derek, that fucker, was naked and bound to a treeâŠwaiting to be his.
The magic within him pulsed softly, promising more. Theo smiled, slow and dangerous. This was only the beginning.
Read Part 2
