Riddonkulous

I never stitch with thread or twine, Yet I make scattered pages align. With jaws that open, jaws that close, I leave behind a silver rose. No carpenter would call me kin, Though metal teeth lie tucked within. I bite without a drop of pain, Then hold my victims fast again. I work where letters come to life, Where students study day and night. On desks I patiently remain, Bringing order from the paper rain. Feed me little strips of steel, Then press me down with steady zeal. Though small in size, I'm strong enough To tame the wildest paper stuff. What am I?