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Going Nowhere Fast (But Still Spinning My Wheels Anyway)

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1. Clearly, everyone has to be kept up at the Hale house because of the werewolves’ sensitive senses and their difficulty keeping control over their instincts while everyone’s latent pheromones are now being amplified by a hundred and brought back to their natural, raw state, Usually people are so swathed in artificial perfumes from soaps and lotions and colognes that whatever bits of their natural essences actually do seep through are inconsequential and so the pack is just completely unprepared to deal with people in their unfiltered forms, only thing is, they can’t exactly get away from each other. 

2. Derek totally just walks around nude the whole time– giving everyone the most dead-eyed stare when they complain or make faces. He’s a born wolf, he’s used to nudity around pack, and there’s no way he’s wearing clothes with how hairy he is. Musk wafts from him like a cloud and everyone knows where he is at any given time because of his smell. His armpit hair is long and wet and curled with sweat. The thick hair on his meaty thighs and ass are stuck in funny whorls, matted, and his chest hair and pubes are absolutely disheveled. Stiles can’t stay at the house with them for the first few days because he just wants Derek to sit on his face and to die the most beautiful death suffocated in his humid crotch, so obviously he stays home– at least until his dad starts walking around in those terrible, tentish dad boxers that are the really cheap fabric and don’t even have a button on the slit, so it’s always open and a wifebeater. After the third tip slip in a day, he decides maybe having the whole pack know he’s a musk slut wouldn’t be the worst thing. John totally just sighs in relief when Stiles leaves and gets as nude as Derek, lying on the relatively cool kitchen tile and flopping back to front, back to front, leaving wet imprints of his body behind. 

3. Jackson cannot be made to suffer the indignity of being in various states of nakedness like everyone around him (Scott inexplicably walking around tops no bottoms– huge pit stains in crescents under his arms, but airing out his unkempt pubes, Liam in what are 1000% booty shorts and a crop top, though he mumbles that they’re totally work out gear with a red face. Isaac in some semi-translucent mesh shirt long enough to cover his bits and nothing else) He’s fully clothed and carries around hankies to dab at his forehead and he just calmly ignores the fact that he stinks just as bad as everyone else. No one is amused, but they also don’t have the energy to be annoyed. If he wants to be miserable, so be it. When Stiles gets there, he’s totally just in ugly, loose, fruit of the loom white briefs. He figures he won’t feel at all sexy in them and so he won’t break down and beg the pack to wreck him while he’s (un)dressed like this. 

4. As soon as Derek sees him, he totally gets a chub, but no one can tell because his cock is so huge and heavy, it doesn’t even stand when fully erect– just droops under it’s own weight. No one can even smell his arousal through the thick, overlaid musks that have gathered over the days, and so they just think it’s some weird, pack bonding thing when he suggest they can get a little cleaner if they groom each other. Derek always talks about these strange, and often bizarrely intimate werewolf behaviors that have made him the butt of many incest jokes, but in the end, he always gets this broody version of a kicked puppy look and everyone gives in and does crap like puppy piles and nuzzling faces in greeting. Stiles swears he’s seen Derek and Scott sniff each other’s asses on more than one occasion, though neither of them admit to it– probably would deny it even while their noses are running along each other’s cracks, and boy howdy that should not turn Stiles, but God it so does. 

5. No one really replies to Derek’s offer, so the born werewolf just ambles over to Stiles, backs him up against the arm of the couch, and looks long and intense at him before he lifts his arm and starts snuffling– Stiles going beet red as he chews his lips to keep from mewling and arches his chest when Derek hums and rubs his lips against his pit hair. No one really pays attention until the wet sounds of Derek dragging his tongue– fully extended, broad and flat, from crease to crease– against Stiles starts to sound absolutely lewd. Derek doesn’t even try to hide it– rubbing his heavy, sticky foreskin against the inside of Stiles’ thigh as he nibbles at the sensitive skin under his arm and snuffles and whuffs at his pits like a dog. Stiles totally can’t stop himself from curling the one leg not keeping him standing around Derek’s waist, clenching his toes around the meat of one hairy ass cheek. Isaac is laying on the couch and just casually craning his neck to watch for a while before he grunts and grumbles and wiggles his way up the hot fabric to get at Stiles’ loose undies. The human squeaks and yelps when he feels a nose drag against the back of his thigh, but when Isaac just mimics Derek’s low, interested grumble and pushes aside the damp cotton, he unconsciously pushes out his ass to give Isaac more room. His little balls fall loose and Isaac starts to suckle at them without reservation, lapping at his taint and dragging his nose into his crack. Jackson sneers from the end of the couch that they’re all filthy animals and Isaac kicks at him with his long, long legs– shoving a huge, flat foot in his face to try to get him to shut up. Jackson clearly struggles to pretend like he’s disgusted, but in the end he just starts sniffing those agile monkey-like toes deeply and licking between them, grabbing Isaac’s other foot and roughly shoving it in his groin to grind against. Derek jerks, but just relaxes into the licking when Isaac kneels behind him and just starts feasting on his ass– making sloppy, rude sounds as he gobbles at the fat, hairy cheeks and rubs his face against the huge, swollen lowhangers that are actually, literally dripping with sweat. Derek moves back and forth from Stiles’ pits to his neck to his temple, licking and sucking and nibbling and Stiles knows he can feel fangs– Derek’s usually bristly beard soft and whispy, long from the shift– and he grabs onto those pointed ears as he lets loose his porno moans and undulates his hips, riding Isaac’s face dirtily. Scott is the last one to join, his super crooked cock bouncing between his legs as rubs his hands all over Stiles’ quivering, sticky belly and nuzzles into the pelt on Derek’s chest– grooming the hair and following it to a dusky, soft, pouty-warm nipple that he latches onto. 

6. The grooming does not help the humid stink problem as they orgy for days and just add the scent of hot cum to everything, though no one is complaining– not even Jackson, who loves showing off his firecrotch now that he knows it turns the other boys on– his ginger rimmed, cummy hole being flashed everywhere. 

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1. Jackson and Derek are the only Hale boys of their current generation and, as such, Jackson has always had a certain level of hero worship for his older cousin. Derek often acts like he just doesn’t have the time for it—trying to keep up with and compete against his sisters, who are heavily favored in the pack as exemplary wolves. When Derek is actually in a good mood, for one reason or another, he admits to liking that prissy, particular, pretty boy of Peter’s (ya, I went full throttle for that alliteration). He takes Jackson out for frozen yogurt and pretends to be reluctant about going out to the treehouse to roughhouse and playfully shift with each other.

2. Jackson is thirteen and Derek is nineteen when the other boy starts going through puberty. It’s hard for him because all the other wolves can smell it on him and know and he easily gets embarrassed when they start telling him he has to wash his armpits and balls better. He can’t hide his wet dreams from anyone, and being the kind of boy that he is—hating to ever have a hair out of place and always wanting to be taken seriously and included with the adults—it’s really, really hard on him. He breaks down into frustrated tears a lot and then Peter admonishes him for being a spoiled, bratty whelp. On top of all that turmoil and irritation and just too-close quarters, Jackson has to deal with the fact that his hero worship now has the added layer of attraction to his cousin.

3. Wolves being how they are, privacy isn’t really something that you get, so for most of the grown up members, nudity and sexuality just aren’t things to hide or be embarrassed about. Jackson feels absolutely ungainly when he strips down to run with the other men on the full moon and all of them are muscly and hairy and hung. He’s so pale and his strawberry blonde pubes have only just started coming in and he’s reedy and his cock is little and pink instead of the long, dusky, heavy things that rest between all his relatives’ legs. Even their balls are swollen and low hanging and his sit so tight to his body, pebbled in the cold. Derek takes pity on the way he squirms and is awkwardly holding an elbow and trying to hang back from everybody. He slings an arm around Jackson’s shoulders and bumps him with his hip, telling him not to worry, it will all come in time. There’s a crude, tall tale in the Hale family that he really shouldn’t repeat, but he tells it to Jackson to ease his worries and to make him feel included in adult stuff. It’s about how the smallest Hale man was still seven inches long and he made up for it by having balls the size of his fist. He was extremely virile and had ten children! Jackson laughs, even as his body feels feverish for all the naked skink they’re touching together and in a bid for attention and affection, he turns his head to bite the skin just below Derek’s pec, working the sharpness of them to leave a mark. He knows it’s a very intimate gesture, but he can’t help the way he nuzzles at it and rubs his nose against Derek’s pert nipple, his boycock twitching at the gasp of breath it forces out of Derek’s chest and how he can smell this cloud of musk suddenly permeate from between Derek’s thighs.

4. Jackson works doubly hard from that day out, trying to get his cousin’s attention. He throws away his own securities in the name of getting what he wants, and what he wants is Derek. He’s fourteen and Derek is twenty and he finds himself lounging nude in front of the boy all the time. Despite everyone else’s complaints, Jackson lets himself build up a thick, teenaged musk because he’s seen the way Derek’s nostrils flare whenever Jackson’s armpits are humid from sweat and the crease of his thighs waft ball-smell from his basketball shorts. He makes Derek go out to the treehouse with him like always, wrestling around and actually learning to choreograph moves for a fight from him now, but he always sheds his clothes and rolls his shoulders for the shift, getting a particular kind of glee when Derek hesitates before tossing off his shirt and stepping out of his jeans—always freeballing. Derek never hesitates to undress in front of anyone else, but he always pauses when he feels Jackson’s eyes on him. No matter what, even if he has to suffer a gash to his ribs or snapping his ankle when he fails to dodge a fierce kick, Jackson makes sure that he gets to rub his nubile ass in Derek’s face—the crack damp with sweat, curls of blonde hair having grown. His cousin always grows and smacks him and throws him off, but Jackson just brays like an ass and hops back to his feet, dancing on the balls and wiggling his hips, making his dripping manhood dangle enticingly.

5. Jackson’s fifteen and Derek is twenty one when he gets tired of this game and just starts loudly masturbating in his bed—covers thrown off to show his freckled, flat belly and curved, pink cock. His cousin lays on his stomach with his hands beneath the pillow his head is resting on, pretending that, because his cock is smothered beneath the bedding, Jackson can’t smell how ripe and sticky-sodden it gets as he watches. Jackson bites his own lips and grunts and whimpers and even starts moaning Derek’s name, yoking his balls as his fist squelches over his now five inch dick, arching off the bed. Derek’s breathing gets so heavy and his brows furrow as his teeth clench and he tries not to rut his hips, his ass clenching tight enough to draw the sheet on top of it. Jackson can’t help but smirk, cocky now that he knows his slender, pale body draws the attention of his meaty, hairy cousin like no other in the pack ever has. It doesn’t matter that his father has closer a closer relationship to some of his other cousins, doesn’t matter that everyone calls him stuck up, prim, doesn’t even matter that he still has a hard time getting and letting go of the shift. He finally has Derek’s attention and that’s all he’s ever wanted.

6. (Ya, I’m doing an add-on again.) Every little, filthy wish Jackson has ever whispered to Derek late at night, while his fingers are circling his virgin hole and his precum is matting his pubes, his cousin grants him in their treehouse out in the forest. At night, they stare at each other’s faces and bodies (Derek finally having joined him in throwing off the covers to let Jackson watch his full, muscled ass flex and bounce while his legs spread to show the dark, thick whorl of hair covering his dusky asshole, swollen breeder balls convulsing when he comes) while Jackson continues fucking his fist with utter abandon and Derek grinds into his mattress filthy and rough. Jackson gets looks in the morning because anyone with a room adjacent can hear, but they’re used to the teenager hormones fueling slick, lewd smacks of skin in the night, and he gets a thrill knowing those looks could be so much more disgusted if they only knew he was baiting his kin to fuck him sloppy during the day—away from prying senses. Derek will probably, eventually get him pregnant and the jig will be up, but until then, Jackson will get off in every imaginable way, knowing he’s his noble cousin’s dirty little secret.

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Uhm, these asks have totally just made my day and all I ever hope to accomplish with my writing is to make people happy and also get them thinking about all the fun stuff going on! So the fact that you got to pondering has just made me totally the most excited and kinda giddy. :P Because I’m a DWEEB and I think porn is CUTE. Especially filthy porn. Apparently some wires in my head for crossed somewhere because there’s nothing more adorable than hairy asses and cummy kisses to me. :P

But anyway! To actually address your ask– I very like the way you think, sweet nonnie. Although the Hale fire is the saddest thing in the world, I really, really like the terribly angsty and depressing and thriller-ish narrative of Derek knocking his cousin up (while brother mpreg absolutely fascinates me, for story purposes, Talia incest just isn’t here) and the family finding out and there being immense tension and pressure and disappointment and silent panic and then days later, the fire. And Derek and Jackson and Peter are the only ones left (to their knowledge) and Derek wants to cling to his lover and the mother of his litter, but he also can’t help but wonder id Jackson is secretly twisted inside, if he didn’t set the fire to “set them free”. Y'know? That really good, gut twisting suspense, sleeping with the enemy kinda shit.

And maybe, if I’m gonna go full dark and just rabbit hole this whole idea, Peter’s the one that set the fire, because he’s been sleeping with his son since he was little, and maybe that’s why Jackson was so on board with having sex with his cousin in the first place. Derek was so nurturing and kind, even if he was an older, cocky douche sometimes, and Jackson saw him as a much better lover than his daddy– never thought to look outside the family, always meant to transfer from one Hale to another. And anyway, when Peter heard he was pregnant, he knew the pups could be his and needed to cover his tracks. Maybe Derek could get away with the inbreeding because they were just dumb, horny kids in close quarters, but a father molesting and impregnating his child? He’d be ostracized from the pack, made a roving omega. Talia would make sure everyone knew what he did, he’d never be accepted by another alpha. He’d be hunted by poachers who called him a monster. He’d die in months.

Anyway, Derek’s so head over heels for Jackson, but doesn’t know if he can trust him. Instead he takes advice from the uncle he thought he could trust, but who is actually manipulating him, meanwhile, Jackson is a young, pregnant teenager trying to bridge the rift between him and his cousin, which he thinks is because of a traumatic experience, while also trying to hide his affair with his father, which is suddenly so much less easier to hide without a house filled with people to cover it up. Plus, he wants to start breaking that off, wants to belong to just Derek, and he wants to protect their litter from Peter too.

Soo… Yes, Derek was just a cocky, horny young kid, who was one of the ones that thought pregnancy would never happen to him. The odds of a male pack member getting pregnant were there, but slim, and he didn’t even have an alpha knot, so he didn’t see the problem with unsafe sex. Besides, he liked eating Jackson’s cream pie afterwards anyway.

But also– let’s contemplate intersex Jackson in this AU. That’s another reason why he feels so set apart from everyone, why Peter is intimate with him, and why he latched onto Derek– because his cousin is one of the only ones in the whole family that doesn’t treat him differently just because he has a cunt where his taint should be. Hmmm, yes.

I guess I should probably write this now or something. :P Or we could all just talk about it here! That would be fun too!

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1. Danny (as we all came to beautifully know) is not oblivious to the happenings in Beacon Hills, especially since those happenings revolve around hot, shirtless, ripped dudes (but really, let’s have a talk about how muscles aren’t actually that sexy. I have never been turned on by a six back or bulging arms. Never. In fact, when dudes are really cut, I find it quite off-putting. And they’re so often waxed smooth on top of that, which, if you’ve ever been on this blog you know is not my thing. So guys! Mah fellow gays! Let’s get some more soft, hairy bellies in fic and fanart, ya? All the cute pooches and jiggle butts and thighs that could smother you in your sleep. BUT I DIGRESS). He also knows that their animal instincts are a little more *ahem* in tune, shall we say. And what good are meaty, beautiful, dim boys, if not for having a good time, getting people jealous, and having the hottest quickies the world can provide?

2. Derek is obviously the ring leader of hot and alpha male of sex, so if you’re gonna go after something, go after the best. Ethan’s been frustratingly woobish as of late and Danny misses the cocky, asshole-ish, front of a brute guy that got him excited in the first place. So he needs a hit, and if that hit makes Ethan jealous and get back to that territorial, predatory dude that makes Danny smile, well then, so be it. Derek won’t be easy to seduce what with his recent, stoic bout of celibacy to protect the pack, but everyone knows he’s a straight up man whore who needs his big balls emptied nice and good every twelve hours (Really, they’ve seen them when Derek thought he could get away with going commando in basketball shorts. Danny doesn’t know if it’s an alpha thing or a Hale thing, because Ethan isn’t packing grapefruits between his thighs, but Derek sure is).

3. It starts in Jungle, where all clandestine things converge in Beacon Hills and sprout fresher, angstier offshoots to further fuel the ambitions of the young. The pack has weekly events to foster closeness and last week Stiles chose the roller rink to a chorus of groans. Everyone hated it but Derek, who got the excuse to hold Stiles’ hand to help him balance and also put his hands all over him every time he fell, which was a lot. The two are obvious and disgusting, but will never do anything about it, so Danny feels like his little hunt for some not-so-strange is a real win-win situation. After they all down a line of shots, Danny just throws it out there and takes Derek’s hand, leading him out onto the dancefloor, pretending he can’t hear the older boy’s protests and ignoring Stiles’ brief moment of shocked hurt before he orders another drink. Derek is really hesitant and keeps throwing worried glances to the bar and so Danny has to distract him by wrapping his hands around his neck and immediately starting off with grinding, practically purring at the weight of Derek’s massive dong pressing into his hip. Like the siren song of the salacious, Derek gets more and more weighed down by the pressure below his hips and starts dancing back, eyes glowing red as his breath gets husky and his claws dig into Danny’s ass.

4. Things get really intense when Derek sees Scott and Stiles dancing together near them, one of Scott’s hands dirtily rubbing at the vee of Stiles’ legs while the other is at his throat, fingers probably bruising his jaw as he turns his head to snuffle at his neck. There’s an escalating series of angrily intense, out and out dirty dancing until the two alphas are practically snarling at each other while Danny and Stiles are just caught between. Derek takes Danny’s wrist and starts guiding him back to the bathrooms, which everyone knows are only used for two things– neither of which are elimination– and with a fire in his eyes, Stiles takes Scott’s hand and follows. Stiles and Derek glare at each other while they both get pinned up against neighboring sinks. Derek gets his huge, wet, uncut cock hefted out of his jeans while Danny gets on his knees, and Scott starts sucking hickeys into Stiles’ neck while the back of his pants get rucked down and his cheeks spread to show that soft pink. They huff and snort and moan like porn stars while never breaking eye contact. Their chests heave and no one in the room can really tell anymore whether they’re still competing or if they’re getting off on each other while staring into each other’s eyes– Derek roughly grabbing the back of Danny’s head and viciously fucking his throat, just like he likes, while Stiles arches his back like he’s been tutored on it, showing off the way Scott’s got three fingers inside of him and his ass is still lipping at his knuckles for more. They finish almost at the same time, with matching, pained whines, and once the cum cools, are shy and toeing the ground around each other again. Danny got what he needed and knows Ethan will smell it on him tonight, so he just calmly washes out his mouth and goes, while Scott gives the most world weary sigh ever and pushes them together before saying Stiles owes him, probably in the form of a hot threesome. There will be double alpha dp-ing.

5. Everyone thought they would be happier about this development, but really everything got so much worse. Wolves are so territorial and passionate and HORNY. There’s everyone walking in on everyone doing it, all the time. The fact that they all know each other’s O faces is really only entertaining to Scott and Stiles who high five any time anyone gets some and try, but fail miserably, to try and casually suggest orgies. Also, if you think this is the last time jealousy fucks are used in the pack, you are sorely mistaken. Everyone shakes out into their loving mate relationships, but sex is totally exchanged like currency between them.

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1. I’m gonna go with step brothers for this one, not (obviously) because I have a problem with incest or don’t enjoy it (I do) but it just works better for the little story forming in my head. So let’s say they became brothers when Derek was… twelve and Stiles was eight. He hadn’t gone through puberty yet and so he was still just the sweetest, kinda shy, very quiet boy. He was simultaneously immensely curious over Stiles, since he’d only had sisters his whole life, and kind of afraid of the new addition to their family. For the first few months, there was lots of hiding behind parent’s legs and tentative sharing of books and treats and the couch for cartoons.

2. After the initial awkwardness, Derek grows around Sties the way he never did with his other siblings. He becomes extremely over protective of him, goes everywhere the other boy goes, and can always be seen whispering secrets into each others’ ears. He even accompanies him to sleepovers at the McCall’s house because he hates to spend even just one night apart. Their parents sort of laughingly indulge the fierce connection because it’s made them both happier and having their family close could never be a wrong thing! Derek often gets teased by kids his age for always hanging around a “baby” and Stiles will pet through his hair in their room (the girls share one and the boys share the other) and apologize and try to distract him with games. No one else in the house sees this– Stiles sitting in Derek’s lap and just gently touching his face while Derek rubs the other boy’s back and is quietly mesmerized by his expressive, little face and fighting spirit.

3. When Derek is fifteen and Stiles is eleven, they have their first kiss. Derek probably gets asked out to a school dance and when he tells his parents he told the girl no because he and Stiles were going to go see the new superhero movie that night, they make him apologize and re-ask her, getting to the stage now where the closeness between their two boys makes them uncomfortable at times. Derek is reluctant about it, but always strives to be a good kid, and so he does. Stiles is upset when Derek tells him about it and won’t talk to him, doesn’t understand why Derek couldn’t just say no! He’s nowhere to be found when Derek’s getting dressed or taking pictures and won’t come out even when Derek calls for him and begs to get a goodbye before he goes. Their parents feel guilty when they see how miserable it makes Derek, but insist that Stiles will be over his fit by tomorrow. Derek comes home late and with a buzz and crawls into Stiles’ bed where the boy is nothing but a lump in the center, underneath the sheets. With a slight slur and a certain drunken desperation, he begs for forgiveness while hugging Stiles through the bedding. Upset conversations lead to Stiles eventually popping out, sad and upset, and Derek pulling him to his chest, rubbing his mouth through his soft hair before tipping his face up and kissing him, wet, but sweet. They make out a little as they fall asleep, Stiles playing with Derek’s thin chest hair and Derek smothering the smaller body between his and the wall.

4. They both kinda knew that they weren’t supposed to do things like that and an awkward rift grew between them after that night. Their parents always believed it to be a product of Derek choosing a girl over Stiles for the first time, and it just being the growing pains of adolescence– their age gap finally catching up with them. Stiles buzzes the hair that Derek always used to rub his mouth through, sniffing his shampoo and near-kissing his scalp, and Derek pierces his ears and goes through the mildest and most adorable bad-boy faze the world has ever seen. When Derek is eighteen and Stiles is fourteen they’re in high school together for the first and last time and it makes for this weird sort of tension– peeking into each other’s lives and feeling the way they’re missing from one another’s spheres. Derek gets invited to this huge party near the end of the year and freshman aren’t allowed but Stiles and his friends sneak in. They have a jealous confrontation when they’re both grinding on people in the living room and take their fight out back where years of repressed feelings get shouted out, inhibitions lowered by cheap beer and jello shots. Derek pins Stiles up against the side of the house and they feverishly, sloppily make out, hands roaming all over each other’s bodies and eventually undoing zippers and pulling cocks out from behind waistbands. They rut and frot and use their hands to masturbate against each other and Derek bites Stiles’ lips hard enough to split when he comes. Stiles reaches his hands down the back of Derek’s pants and kneads his hairy ass while they just heave breathes and occasionally lick into each other’s mouths.

5.Derek graduates not too soon afterwards and just like the first time, they don’t ever talk about it again. It’s all too easy to just avoid each other while Derek is at college and Stiles gets good at pretending like he doesn’t feel like there’s a giant hole in his chest, like he doesn’t crawl into Derek’s bed and smell his hair on his pillow and rut, naked, against his mattress until he comes with wet eyes. He feels like he did something wrong, like he pushed Derek too hard, too fast and ran him away. He wishes they could at least be friends again if Derek just doesn’t want him that way. He’s so busy wallowing in it all that he doesn’t notice Derek picking the nearest college instead of the fancier ones, Derek making sure to be there for every one of his lacrosse games and track meets, Derek never bringing a girl home, dodging their dad’s easing about how much tail he must be getting. Just a few weeks after his eighteenth birthday, a couple months before graduation, the lacrosse team does a bachelor’s auction to raise enough money to go to nationals (that’s a thing, right?!). It’s the first time they’re going to be seeing each other since Derek just couldn’t make it to his actual birthday. Everyone is shocked, but mostly confused, when Derek shows up and bids an obscene amount of money (for a high school production) to get a date with his own brother. He wins, of course, scaring off any more potential bidders, and Stiles is immediately flushed with embarrassment– upset because he thinks Derek bought him out of pity, thinking no one else would. He only gets that it’s supposed to be a real date when he shows up to the fancy ass restaurant Derek got reservations to at least a year in advance, dresses in ratty jeans and a rude graphic t-shirt while Derek is in a slate dinner jacket and slacks with a grey-green shirt that makes his eyes gorgeous. Derek is very, adorably shy and flirty and takes Stiles’ hand halfway through the meal and doesn’t let go. Then he drives him out on the preserve and they lay on the hood of his car and look at the stars. Stiles doesn’t want to ask if it’s a real date, just in case it isn’t, but when Derek rolls over and starts kissing him, he’s pretty sure it must be. Things start getting heated and Derek babbles about how waiting for his eighteenth birthday was absolute torture– how he’s had nothing to get off on for the past years but that slightly blurry memory of how chubby and plump and pink Stiles’ cock was, how good his slender fingers felt, how their stomachs stuck together with sweat and their body hair scritched against each other. Derek consumes him while Stiles just lays there in awe and lets his body get absolutely worshiped and devoured.

Oops. I got a little caught up with that one and it wasn’t even very porny! Sorry guys. :P I hope you didn’t mind it all too terribly!

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1. Jackson’s own dad only gives a shit about him when he make a spectacle out of his son for one reason or another. If it /paints/ him as a good father without actually having to try and be one, then it’s something he’ll do. Otherwise, he thinks money will raise his brat easy enough. Jackson thought he was content with that, especially with his expensive car and designer clothes and a hooker that pretended he wasn’t underage, but it drives him mad.

2. He’s been thirsting after Stilinski since they made out in the showers in middle school. Nothing has happened since and that’s why he treats him like shit. Anyway, that’s the premise for him always having an eye on Stiles and paying attention to what he’s doing and it’s how he finds himself jealous of how attentive his dad is, even when he can’t always be there. He wants that for himself. He wants to take that from Stiles. So he tries.

3. He doesn’t have an excuse to ever see the older man, so he has to make them for himself, knowing that money his dad throws at the problems will cover up whatever ruckus he causes and that he’ll show up if he gets to show off his might in front of the police department. It’s win win, attention from two daddies.

4. John gets frustrated and overwhelmed when Jackson nearly flips his car just to get the worn out and beyond done sheriff to pull him over. Scared and angry and so fed up, John slams him against his car, cuffs him, starts berating him. He thinks Jackson’s moan is one of pain, but when he flips him over to relieve some of the pressure, the kid is rock hard behind his jeans. Jackson begs to lick his boots, to suck his cock and lick his balls and prove he can be a good boy.

5. John turns off the dash cam, tells everyone it’s so Whittemore doesn’t have any evidence of the reaming he gave his petulant boy. He just doesn’t tell them he was reaming that pretty mouth and a red, wet hole ringed by strawberry blonde hairs. Jackson stops getting in trouble, because the sheriff starts coming to him.

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1. Werewolves probably think of foxes with very clear disdain– the playful, childish things never taking life seriously and always getting themselves into trouble. Their society, so based on finding some measure of control so that they don’t spend all their time feuding between each other and breaking the strained political ties they already have, finds it contemptible that foxes don’t even try to fit in– just live in the forest, an edge of feral to them, running around naked and trying to bait other species into playing.

2. Derek, of course, is very rigid, being the only son of a prominent alpha, and does his best, every day, to be a shining example of how civilized wolves can be. He was a rascally things during his teenage tears, but after causing an accident that set his pack years back in negotiations with humans, he keeps himself so, so restrained even his sisters look at him like he’s crazy.

3. He’s out for a walk one day (wishing he could tear off clothes and feel the shift and run through the woods), appreciating the swish of his tail in the dirt and all the sounds that come filtering through his ears when he hears the tell-tale giggling chatter of a fox and Stiles appears, running circles around him. Derek is totally (not) appalled that he’s completely naked– chubby little manhood just swinging between his legs while he smiles and curls his own fluffy, copper tail around Derek’s legs. He does his best and is mean and shakes Stiles off again and again but the fox just shows up any time Derek dares come into the woods.

4. He decides it’s not safe then and doesn’t return, at which point Stiles is, THE MOST SAD, and risks coming out to look for him, though poachers love fox pelts. Derek wakes up to find the lithe, little guy squirming in his lap in bed and his eyes fly wide and he’s about to yell before he realizes he’s been grinding his sleep-heavy erection unconsciously into Stiles for who knows how long, and that’s why the little beast is so restless. He looks so pretty, gnawing at his bottom lip, clawed hands flexing against Derek’s hard, hairy stomach, his little, fat fox prick flexing hard every time Derek rubs his comparatively massive schlong between his cheeks.

5. Stiles creams himself before Derek can even react and that’s what sends him over the edge. He flips them with a snarl and tears off his clothing, all the built up repression just being torn to ribbons. He mounts Stiles without any prep and just rubs his hot, wet dog dick up his crack a couple times to get it sticky before diving in. His hips have that dumb, animal-instinct hunch to them as he spits only barely comprehensible words about breeding and mates and knotting into Stiles’ ears as he fucks him, and it doesn’t take long until that bulb begins to swell. Stiles’ stomach distends with the size of everything and when Derek starts shooting his load inside him, it makes the surface of that pale, beauty marked belly quake like a drum. Stiles has a litter of half-breeds before winter and Derek has never been more happy in their home in the woods with them.

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1. I’d have to go werewolves are known verse in this fic. After Claudia dies, the sheriff is absolutely distraught and terrified of his son having the genetic predisposition towards getting her same disease. She didn’t want the Bite to possibly help herself– there’s no guarantee you survive– and she wanted to go peacefully, on her terms, but he can’t help but think she’d do anything to save her son. He debates with it for a long time, but in the end, the possibility is eating him up inside. Children have a much, much higher survival rate than adults– their bodies resilient and geared towards learning, change, adaptation. It takes him a while to find a pack willing to give the Bite to his nine year old, but when he explains to the Hales, their matriarch sees his pain and agrees. Stiles, of course, survives, but….

2. In this world there’s a significant amount of prejudice between born and bitten wolves and even those who are more liberal with their views know there’s a time for trying to further the cause and a time for falling in line so they don’t get ostracized. Talia is one of those people and although she takes Stiles into her pack so he isn’t an unprotected omega, he’s treated sort of like the bastard child of the pack– disallowed a lot of things the others have freely, must be quiet and out of the way when other packs visit, and she tries to encourage her own children not to play with him. They are the heirs to a rather powerful west coast pack, after all.

3. Derek totally ignores this because he can’t help but be fascinated with Stiles and despite their age difference, they’re totally each others’ best friends. Talia is publicly disapproving and they’re not allowed to fraternize in public, but at home, she ignores it and smiles at how the boys think they’re getting one over on her for always hanging out together in rooms with closed doors and treehouses out on the preserve.

4. Stiles is twelve and Derek is sixteen the first time it happens. Nudity in a wolf pack is totally unavoidable and therefore, immensely casual. Stiles used to be uncomfortable about it when he first came to stay with the Hales, but now he runs around like a little, pink, mole-y hooligan, streaking through the forest with fits of giggles all the time. It feels good to shift and run with Derek and they chase each other all around until Derek tackles him by a pond and they get to tussling. Sometime, they’re not sure when, the struggle changes from just fun to real, and when Derek finally pins Stiles’ wrists above his head with a growl and flashes his eyes, the smaller boy whines and wriggles until his little, chubby cock is free and then makes eye contact with Derek as he pisses on his belly and soaks the small bush he’s grown. Something inside Derek just settles into the warmest pleasure and he rumble-purrs as Stiles empties his bladder in submissiveness. Derek knows he probably shouldn’t, because of the difference in their ages and statuses, but he can’t help himself as he slides down to lap at that bitter liquid and then suck Stiles down. He doesn’t know if it’s the other boy’s first orgasm, but it’s definitely the first time he’s ever been touched sexually and Derek gets such a rush out of it. Once Stiles goes soft in his mouth again, he straddles the boy and pisses all over him, himself, and then jerks off over him.

5. Stiles is sixteen and Derek is twenty when he can’t take the begging and presenting and attempts at making him jealous and he finally takes Stiles back to the pond to knot that ass that belongs only to /him/. His mother has been trying to match him with more suitable women in his station, but he turns them all down for Stiles. She loves Stiles, but cannot approve of a life together for them. Derek can’t imagine anything but. They’ll probably fight about it forever. But he doesn’t care when he’s knotted up in the sweetest, funniest, most fondly infuriating werewolf he’s ever been with. And when he finally stops coming and before his knot deflates, Stiles whines and wriggles, needing that something more. Derek happily complies and hugs Stiles tight around the middle, pressing kisses to the back of his neck, as he flushes his piss down deep inside his mate, letting everyone know that they belong together, no matter what anyone else says.

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1a. Human verse, probably gotta be high school AU because Y'ALL CAN’T STOP ME. Just for funs, we’ll do some reverse age difference, y/y? Stiles is the senior that’s been on the bench his entire varsity lacrosse career, and it doesn’t feel like such a bad thing when he gets to be assistant coach for the JV team and besides, it’s not like it’s because he’s terrible, it’s just that there happened to be a lot of talented players in his year. He’s over being upset about it. Until this freshman, Derek Hale tries out and makes first string. A fucking freshman! He’s kinda short and lithe muscle like Stiles and he’s even got buck teeth. What the shit is this?

1b. Werewolf verse, Derek totally makes all his wolves adopt a milder version of his workout regimen, so they’ll be prepared! He doesn’t invite Stiles because he doesn’t think he can keep up. He’s totally right, but Stiles is pissed and shows up anyway, does his best, even though he’s often left wheezing. He refuses to give Derek the satisfaction of being right, even though he hates this….

2a. Stiles tries his best to hate him, he really does. The kid is cocky and walks all brosef-stilted like he has to swing his legs around his foot long cock. He calls Stiles champ and hits him on the shoulder when he’s getting water on the sidelines and waiting to be subbed back in. Thing is, Derek is infuriatingly charming. With his green-grey eyes and the moments you can never predict when he goes soft and shy and ducks his head while ruffling the back of his sweaty hair….

2b. … Besides, running behind Derek and seeing that meaty ass shake when he runs in basketball shorts? A really great motivator to keep going and maybe get a little more fit. Its tight, controlled, muscly jiggle has gotten Stiles past many a runner’s wall because sometimes those shorts ride down and Derek flashes some furry ass crack that Stiles would very much like for breakfast, lunch, and dinner.

3a. … And the dude sweats a ton. He’s just one of those guys, you come across them. It’s eighty degrees and everyone else has a damp hair line and he’s got rings under the arms of his shirt. Derek smells like a teenager, the ripest kind in the throws of puberty. Stiles certainly does not breathe deeper when he’s around because of the orgasm-inducing musk that wafts off his lithe body. Boy-sweat, dirty jock, unwashed balls, the allusion of jizz. It’s better than any perfume. It’s why Stiles never showers with the guys, even when a couple guys are gone or injured and he gets to play.

3b. They usually have lunch afterwards and then everyone filters home because the concentrated smell of seven sweaty werewolves and two humans (Derek, Scott, Jackson, Isaac, Erica, Boyd, and Cora plus Stiles and Allison) in a small kitchen definitely affects those delicate wolf noses. Stiles tries not to pal around too much with everyone then because he could orgy till he dies of dehydration here and now and that’s really nothing anyone needs to catch on to. Especially since he once stuck around after everyone had left, by accident– took a phone call from his dad in the other room and came back to an empty Hale house– and then heard a shower running and he totally, totally didn’t peep on Derek washing his junk, inappropriate! But he might have stolen the white, ribbed tank with pit stains and is currently using it as his new cum rag.

4a. Derek totally wears those douche-master titty tanks to practice on the weekends– the ones with the whole sides cut out– and Stiles has to try to conceal his massive boner in track pants, which is just Olympic gold medal hard as far as fabrics that show everything, because the guy has small, but LUSCIOUS brown tits and dark hair, EVERYWHERE. It’s fucking obscene the way the long armpit hair curls with sweat and how the pelt on his stomach sticks in whorls. Stiles wants to /service/ those rank crevices and not be able to get the funk out of his nostrils for hours.

4b. At some point, Stiles totally starts trying to drop subtle hints to figure out if werewolves get off on sweat and just like, general body stink. He’s sure there’s a difference between the smell of someone you’re attracted to and just raw, unfiltered human, and you can like someone but still insist on no morning breath make-outs or post-gym. But maybe werewolves don’t have that distinction and so maybe it’s not that weird that he wants to suck on the crease of Derek’s thigh while he’s working out and maybe stick his dick in his armpit.

5a. For some reason Stiles and Derek end up alone, after a practice, and Derek can’t help noticing how distracted Stiles is. He follows his line of sight to his pit stains and just smirks so huge. The first couple times Stiles sniffs and licks and moans as he frots his cock against Derek’s side, completely letting the smaller boy humiliate him with his fond, dirty, demeaning words while he encourages him deeper into his arm and sometimes smothers his face in there and won’t let him come up till he’s gasping. Stiles eventually boils over and decides to finally put this freshman in his place. He doesn’t have muscle on Derek, but he has size, and he wrestles him to the floor and fucks his armpit and froths his cum all in the dark hair. He does it in the morning too and makes Derek walk around school all day with it matted in there. They both end up loving it and playfully fight for dominance constantly. If Stiles loses on purpose a lot just so he can suffocate on Derek’s ridiculously hairy, musky ass, well then, so be it.

5b. No one touches that with a ten foot pole, half totally oblivious to it even, until Stiles, one day, so distracted by his rampant thoughts on his own sexual deviancy, trips and falls while running and Derek ushers everyone to keep going down the path, he’ll help Stiles turn back. His ankle is fucked up and he’s totally embarrassed and then Derek picks him up bridal style and he can’t think of anyway this could get worse until he realizes he’s face first with an explosion of dark, sweat-curled pit-down and it’s making him hard. Derek doesn’t say anything, just watches with super intense eyes as he carries him back to the house. At one point, Stiles can’t help it, takes a sniff, puts his mouth to it, burrows when Derek’s chest just heaves and starts licking. By the time they make it to the door, Stiles’ face is smeared with Derek’s funk and Derek’s tenting his shorts, looking like they’re about to rip. Derek strips them both, puts Stiles on the bed, bends him in half, hotdogs his sweaty ass, and lets him lick his armpit while Derek sucks the pain from his ankle while leaving at his toes. Best accident ever.

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1. (I’m just all here for teen Derek being used in any and every situation. All of them. All the ways, all the positions, all the everything.) Derek’s probably super meek in this verse– the quiet boy of the Hale family that sinks into the background as a coping mechanism for the bountiful, aggressive sisters he has. He’s too gentle for that kind of ish! He takes the babysitting job not because he needs the money, but because having a whole house to just him and one kid sounds like heaven. He immediately knows he misjudged the situation when Stiles is glaring out the window at him as he knocks on the door.

2. Stiles is weirdly well behaved the entire day, despite that mischievous glint in his eye and it has Derek on edge. He was right to fear it because he falls asleep while watching a superhero movie with Stiles and only wakes up because his head keeps knocking the armrest. It’s doing that because Stiles is currently fucking him into it– his reedy body stretched out across Derek’s as his slender, slender boy cock starts to spill inside of him. Derek didn’t even feel it go in.

3. Stiles continues to be utterly sweet to him whenever Derek’s around, which is constantly now because the sheriff wants his boy to be responsible for his child. He lets his hair while Derek has morning sickness and rubs his feet when they’re sore. He even kisses and babbles at his hairy, distended belly. But as soon as night hits, it’s like a switch is flipped and suddenly Stiles is coming all over his stomach and rubbing his seed into his bitch.

4. Scott’s always around because Melissa works just as long hours as the sheriff. He used to just sit and watch with this glazed expression while Stiles utterly debauched his baby daddy. The poor, little guy creamed his shorts every time and Derek gave him sympathetic half-frowns as he pulled his Spiderman underwear down and helped him clean as much watery boy cum out of them as he could once Stiles was snoring with his own dick wet and sticky on his stomach.

5. Scott finally gets in on it when Derek’s milk comes in. The first time he sees it bead and drip out of Derek’s tit, his eyes get huge and he immediately stops listening to the story Stiles was telling him while Derek made grilled cheeses. Like a moth to a flame, he latches on and fucks his hard, little boy dick against Derek’s belly while he nurses. Derek is just taken by surprise and lets it happen and when Scott comes on him, Stiles goes crazy and immediately has to fuck him. Needless to say, they feed off each other and get in a literal pissing contest with Derek in the middle. Derek’s plan to escape the chaos in his home backfired spectacularly he thinks as his water breaks when he’s covered in boy jizz and urine and his own breast milk.

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1. (The second I started brainstorming ideas about this one, I got the first line. “There’s an intelligence behind those eyes that goes far beyond the lisped vocabulary Stiles uses– that makes Derek feel the things he’s feeling.” Yaaaa. :P) Totally would set this in some kind of damaged society. I’m not sure what exactly yet, but I’m really just feeling one of those places that nearly got torn down and now they’re small and insulate and delicate and trying their best not to fall again.

2. Derek is alone and he hates it, can’t stand the silence everywhere he goes. There’s a place for people like him, people who can’t connect. He reluctantly goes and everyone is eyeing each other, hesitant, orbiting around the room, trying not to collide despite their desperation. He probably stays there for hours and is just about to leave when Stiles comes up to him. His hair is buzzed short and his eyes are so big and they have this fierce look of determination. Stiles totally picked him out, watched him all day and came to him after he collapsed on a couch and started rubbing harshly at his face. He just succinctly tells him that Derek will be taking him home now and the registrar has the paperwork.

3. Derek doesn’t know why he goes along with it, but just does it all in a daze and in an hour, he’s at home with this quiet and crazy intense twelve year old that just sits there and watches him. After an hour or two of silence, Stiles just tells him that they’re supposed to have sex now and climbs into his lap. Derek’s hands never leave the couch and he just sits there with a slack, open mouth as Stiles rides his clothed cock until they both cream their pants. The little boy wrinkles his nose and stares at him with increasing frustration until he berates him and tells him to go get a washcloth.

4. Derek thinks it’s gonna be awkward, sleeping in the bed together, but that’s actually the most natural part. It feels so right to curl around that little body and hold him tight, breathing against the back of his neck and rubbing his lips against the mole-y skin. He only doesn’t take Stiles back because that night he sleeps through till morning for the first time in a long time.

5. Stiles is too small to take his cock all the way and it totally frustrates him, but Derek thinks it’s real cute when he resigns himself to just angrily licking under Derek’s foreskin and swallowing his cum with determination. Plus, he gets to tell Stiles they’ll have to train and that training is having Stiles lay on him– head resting on his knees while he watches tv– while Derek parts his bum and calmly, contentedly licks and sucks and kisses his pink hole. He’ll do it for hours, lazy. It’s so cathartic for him, just eating ass in the evenings, rubbing at his smooth back and slender thighs. He’s excited for Stiles to get hair and fill out and be able to match his dominating personality with a body that carries out his determination.

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1. (I totally am working on the third part of that already! Don’t ask me how it became the strange trilogy that it did, because I have no idea. :P But since it flashes forward a couple years and there probably won’t be any Derek/Scott action there, I’ll just do a little snapshot of the time between the last chapter and this upcoming one!) They have to keep this new turn on their relationship very hush hush because, y'know, incest. :P So they sneak around about it and Stiles totally gets off on all the closed doors and rendezvous and how Derek keeps his hand clamped over that loud mouth while Scott licks at his brother’s balls while he fucks Stiles.

2. Stiles asks them all kinds of inappropriate questions in the afterglow– head pillowed on Derek’s hairy thigh, Scott’s laying in his stomach. He wants to know every dirty detail about how and why and when. Derek is hugely embarrassed but Scott just rattles off every little thing he wants to know like it’s no big deal…

3. … Such as the fact that Scott used to suck on his thumb, even into his teens, and Derek kept it a secret for him until they found a way to wean him off of it. He sucked that d. Yaaaaaa! Derek and Scott totally start tussling over this, but when Scott accidentally kicks him in the face he gives in with a groan and lets him tell about how Scott would suckle his soft dick under the covers and take care of his morning wood when they woke up.

4. Stiles turns out to be totally enamored of this, but feels like he can’t ask for it because it’s like, a thing, for them. Instead he tells Jackson that he’ll let him pick positions for the next month if Stiles can try out being his cockwarmer. It’s a good idea, until he finds out Jackson can’t stay soft in his mouth until he’s come three times, and even then, he’s so oversensitive and wriggles and sometimes pees.

5. Stiles tells Isaac, so of course Scott finds out, and then he’s confronted by the brothers and told he’s an idiot. That night there’s a cockwarming daisy chain once they finish up. Scott suckles Derek, Stiles suckles Scott, and everyone is surprised when Derek joins in and nuzzles into Stiles’ pubes, being all shy and cute and demure as he bats his lashes in embarrassment and drags his nose against Stiles’ ball sack.

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1. (DID SOMEONE SAY TEEN STEREK? NO?! TOO BAD!!! *laughs maniacally) Let’s say middle school is when they have the usual “changing bodies” maturation and health program– omegas learning that their cocks will stop filling out while their breasts get tender and they start leaking slick. Their thighs will probably get real thick and doughy and they may experience cramps that only object insertion can soothe. (Alphas still get deodorant sticks and told to wash their balls like they actually, really do in maturation programs and omegas totally get pocket vibrators :3)

2. High school changes everything because then it’s not just about your own body changing, but about how you’re gonna react to others. Stiles is the shyest little omega freshman that still changes in the stalls for gym and gets in fights with that beta Jackson Whittemore– the one that rattails him in the shower and makes lewd gestures with his tongue and that totally got on his knees and ate him out behind the bleachers one day, smiling all big and bright eyed when he made Stiles cream himself just off his tongue and fingers alone. He probably tried to play it off as cocky, but as he wiped his mouth off on the back of his hand, the scent of Stiles’ slick wafting off his tongue, he blushed and ducked his head and gave him a sweet peck on the lips before he called him a faggot and left. Ah, high school.

3. Anyway, Derek’s totally the rebel without a cause alpha junior that even all the seniors thirst for. He wears leather jackets that are too big for him and aviators and somehow makes buck teeth so sexy Stiles swoons. He gets in a lot of fights because he hasn’t learned how to handle his alpha aggression yet (he totally comes from a long, distinguished line of Hale alphas and his mother and father put tons of pressure on him to uphold the family name. Doesn’t help that Laura is such a natural at it and makes him look stunted for struggling like most kids do. So he acts out, cuz teen angst) and that’s why, to keep from getting suspended, he has to volunteer to aide the freshman sex ed classes.

4. Derek mostly just files papers and collects homework and begrudgingly gives personal examples of situations he’s encountered “In real life! By a youth just like you!!!” But sometimes, he’s asked to demonstrate, and for some reason or another, that I’m too lazy to think up right now, it’s totally acceptable for him to open up his pants and walk desk to desk, showing off his wild, unkempt bush, long, uncut cock, and swollen breeder balls– letting the omega boys and girls heft and stroke and even sniff or lick a little if they want. Just like when teachers pass around fucking rocks or whatever they sometimes do.

5. They’re all made to pick a specific aspect of an alpha they can appeal to To please them and have to present their report/example in front of the class. Derek roll grade it based on how that would actually make him feel in a real life situation. Scent marking gets picked up straight away by Liam (he wears Derek’s sweaty jock after a varsity practice, washes with Derek’s shampoo for a week before hand, and asks Talia for the recipe for Derek’s favorite dinner, which he brings. He totally aces it.), Stiles ends up with submissive behaviors, the whole class snickering at how fitting it is for him. Even Derek gives him a wry half smile. Riled up about it and determined to change how everyone looks at him, Stiles goes off on a tangent about how some alphas have so much weight placed on their shoulders, in control of everything in their lives, that they need to take the backseat in bed and therefore, a dominant omega is the best kind. He pushes Derek into a chair, aggressively sucks his cock, edging him, yanking on his balls every time he’s about to come. Then he throws Derek to the floor, pulls down his pants, and yanks his cotton panties far enough to the side to expose his dripping boy cunt. He straddles Derek’s face and ride him, suffocates him on his humid slick, and the class watches in awe as Derek writhes and moans and grips Stiles’ thighs tight around his face with clawed hands as his hips buck into the air and he pops his knot for the first time in class– spraying gouts of alpha jizz everywhere as he comes untouched and soaks them both. Derek asks Stiles to the prom in front of everyone with omega slick in his hair and coating his mouth, panting, little omega balls resting on his chin. Stiles accepts.

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1. (I am honored that you think I would be good at writing this particular kink. I promise to try my hardest when I get to doing the full length version.) Alphas and Omegas are probably segregated until they reach a point of maturity at which there won’t be orgies in the street (for those of you that braved my NaNo fic, yes, I am reusing that idea, sue me) so this is the very first time that Derek has ever encountered an omega in real life before and he’s probably hugely mortified and so turned on he can’t see straight.

2. Werewolves probably live on compounds/reservations and so their society operates totally differently than humans’. Derek’s probably watched all kinds of maturation videos on how to properly treat an omega during mating and, let’s be real, his parents totally, under the table, gave him an omega simulated fleshlight for his birthday.

3. During down time, he and Stiles are kept in cages that sit next to each other. Derek used to scoot to his far corner to try and clear his head from all those delicious pheromones and how Stiles just felt /warm/ to him– like his entire being. His fucking aura! But now they link fingers through the bars and share personal, embarrassing stories like that, and when the hunters aren’t looking, stroke each others’ cheeks and kiss sweetly.

4. They make Derek watch while Stiles is stripped roughly, washed out, strapped to the breeding bench, and then prepped by some dude with rubber gloves on– dipping his fingers in this mixture that’s both slick and alpha pheromones, making Derek react as though there’s a competitor on his territory, trying to take his brood mate. By the time they step out of the locked room and open his cage with an automated switch, he’s already shifted and frothing at the mouth, and he licks at Stiles’ ass for a half hour, cleaning every trace of another out of him before mounting.

5. Unbeknownst to Stiles and Derek, they stop using suppressants and contraceptives and he gets pregnant. Once he starts to show, they know they have to escape by any means necessary. They won’t start a family here in this cement bunker in the middle of a desert.

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1. (Do not fuel my young Derek addiction. You will be filled with so much regret, you don’t even know!) YD is such a huge sweetheart– cocky and flirty, but also just the softest, sweetest thing that wants everyone to like him– that the pack just adores him. Even Jackson. He’s probably best friends with Liam since they’re so close in age now, and Stiles is utterly, completely jealous of the way they bump shoulders and how, whenever they need the transformation, they always start with those two gently kissing, then making needy, mewling noises as they get restless and squirm, and then sloppily make out on the couch– hips lifting up as they grind against each other and tug at hair.

2. OD remembers everything that he’s been doing as young Derek, but it doesn’t go the other way– think some kind of time travel rules, older Derek just remembers what’s happened to his younger self, but when he regresses, all that experience the pack needs hasn’t happened yet– and he has a hard time with the fact that every time he resurfaces, he’s grinding on a very, very underage kid.

3. Jackson can never decide whether he gets off on YD or OD fucking him more. YD is scrawny and does these jack-rabbit hip moves that are all seeking their own pleasure as he scrabbles at Jackson’s back and thighs like an actual goddamn dog. Getting fucked and dominated by a small, reedy, nubile thing that jizzes half in him and half down his balls gets him so hot, but so does having all that muscle and sweat and hair grinding him into the floor as that slender, teenaged cock gets thick and long as fuck and starts grinding into his prostate. He loves how OD savages his neck with claiming bites and how his stubble leaves burns. Really, he just wants Derek inside of him all ways, always. :P

4. Scott never, never touches YD sexually because HE HAS MORALS but sucks OD like there’s fucking gold in his nut sack. Even though he’s reigning alpha since YD doesn’t have the chops anymore, he has to defer to someone else to get the information he needs because he’s too busy choking on cock and nuzzling into Derek’s thick bush.

5. Stiles eats Derek out during the whole orgy. YD doesn’t let him start with that– always too nervous and shy, but OD lives for it and misses his mate and wants to spend as much time with him as he can. Once they have their information and everyone is tapped out, Stiles keeps kissing and licking and sucking that ass as the hair thins and the muscled meat goes soft and the thick thighs get whipcord thin again. YD is so blissed out and can sense Stiles’ sadness, so he just spreads his legs wider and lets him have his fill, and maybe even pets his hair while Stiles falls asleep with that adorable, pointy noise pushed in his anus. One day he’ll be old enough not to be afraid to love him.

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1. Stiles somehow does not know this is an issue until he gets fed up with Derek always disappearing for twenty minutes during every single one of their dates and finds him masturbating over the toilet as he massages his balls, which are just a size down from ripe oranges. Maybe alphas never let the secret out from committed relationships because it makes them seem weak and needy.

2. There’s totally cock pumps, just like there’s breast pumps, and they try one of those out at first. Derek pumps twice a day and Stiles usually takes care of him twice too. Derek doesn’t want to sell his alpha cum, though it’s quite coveted, so Stiles just stocks it up, uses it as slick, hair gel, spices some meals with it. Derek appreciates his omega getting how depraved alphas can get with scent marking and just taking it in stride. Stiles totally takes the brownie points for this and doesn’t tell Derek he’s been eating his own jizz in soup since he was sixteen.

3. Derek is a giant, fussy manbaby about the pump because it’s clumsy and messy and also leaves him sore in a not fun way and he probably throws it out a window in a tantrum, because Derek. Stiles makes him go back to masturbating all three times a day as opposed to sleeping on the couch.

4. Scott turns him onto this website that’s basically a yelp for alpha/omega personal goods and services. They have suppressants and heat guides and knotting dildos and best of all? Omegas who offer their cunts to milk alphas with over active semen production. Stiles does tons of market research and settles on Jackson and Isaac.

5. Stiles is the only one Derek has ever allowed to penetrate him and that stands in their new agreement. Stiles fucks his cute, chubby little cock up Derek’s ass while he knots their companions and his last load is always saved for his boyfriend. Jackson and Isaac are totally an omega couple who need alpha knots to not go heat crazy and that’s why a no strings attached arrangement is what they offered. There is cum everywhere and everyone is so happy. 

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1. (Pssssst, reluctant, badtouch Halecest is a guilty pleasure of mine. Pass it on.) No more cults in a desert compound, you guys. For seriously. I live in Utah and know so, so many Mormons. Some are nice, all are insane, indoctrination is very real and present, but also, I never want to see my home on a narrative,  so lets take this in another direction! Peter is a crazy, free love sort of hippy– or at least he pretends to be because it justifies all the things he wants to do in life, such as impregnate a hundred people and also, mate his teenaged nephew like there’s no tomorrow.

2. Derek won’t have him, thinks he’s weird and always smells. Peter is unbearably frustrated until he sees his little nephew crushing on the sheriffs’ son so hard, it’s adorable. Stiles is much more lonely and pliable and desperately yearning to fit in.

3. Once Stiles is hooked, Peter just has to get Derek to believe the only way they can be together is through him. Young love is oh so blind and Derek just might have met a rare, honest to god mate, so he’s got that going for him. There’s much angst and probably a claws out fight, but eventually, Derek succumbs.

4. Stiles loses his virginity in a trailer home with Peter telling him what a beautiful, blushing bride he’ll make when the get to their new home. Derek watches but does not participate. Peter, in spite, locks eyes with Derek as he knots Stiles, knowing there’s a good chance he’ll knock him up. Derek is infuriated and as soon as they can untie, pushes Peter aside, sucks all of his uncle’s cum out of Stiles’ ass and then plows his boyfriends’ sloppy hole in the hopes that if he does get pregnant, there’s a chance it’s Derek’s. Peter counts this as a win when he can smell his own jizz on his nephew’s breath and when Derek is too caught up trying to lay his claim on Stiles to notice his uncle fondling his breeder balls to make sure he comes extra hard.

5. The first time things get really incestuous is when Stiles is showing and they get jealous of each other. Stiles is spitroasted and then double dicked while they’re parked at a truck stop for the night. The competitive, angry origin of the circumstance turns into passionate taboo lovemaking as Derek and Peter aggressively make out over Stiles’ shoulder while they rub their dicks together inside of him. Derek even gropes his uncles ass while they do.

6. (Because I do what I want!) They end up in some cabin, by a lake, where they bring in more boys who also get pregnant and eventually have a community filled with free werewolf love where incest is not just accepted, but encouraged. It is the most debauched patch of earth in the world

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1. (I like the way you people think. You really, really get me. :P) Stiles totally gets addicted on accident, having extra special buddy time with Scott. They’ve been doing side by side– shirts in their armpits, shorts and underwear beneath their balls– masturbation sessions since Scott popped his first boner in the seventh grade. Come high school they graduated to giving each other a hand, and when Scott got a knot and blew jizz for twenty minutes all over the sheets, Stiles didn’t think a second on just licking his hand clean while he waited for his friend to stop gushing. He liked the taste and consistency and Scott was clean, so why not? Plus it made the other boy usually spray himself in the face with how much it turned him on and that’s always funny.

2. He only noticed the issue when he found himself pushing Scott against the wall in the showers after practice and blowing him quite aggressively in front of the whole lacrosse team. Stiles totally, accidentally stumbled into a straight up bukkake porn scene. He loved every second of it.

3. They legit googled cum addiction for days, trying to find out if it was a real medical thing before they thought, “Hey, maybe it’s just for werewolves!” This resulted in Stiles guzzling Isaac, Liam, and Jackson’s cocks to no avail– Boyd was not willing to try, even if Erica said it would be super hot and she would accept it as an early birthday present. Derek was never considered because Derek is scary.

4. Angered at not being considered, Derek cornered Stiles three days later and they had rough and tumble, between the lines feelings sex. Derek nutted off in Stiles’ ass, felched him like there was no tomorrow, and Stiles finally got a hit when they share cum-flavored kisses.

5. Derek knows that alpha cum is addicting because of  werewolf evolution and the desperation to keep the line going. He tells Stiles he has no idea why it’s happening. There is much angst about Derek thinking Stiles is just an addict and that he’s not really in love with him, and also, so much dude orgies. Stiles proves it’s real love by going cold turkey, Derek is appropriately amazed, and Stiles relapses approximately fifteen minutes later, if you  catch my drift. ;)

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1. (Harem AU’s sound absolutely delicious, so thank you for getting me on this train) During Heat alphas stay hard for a full twenty four hours and their semen flows freely, meaning Derek just sits back on a throne of pillows, drinking breast milk and eat grapes and occasionally, viciously eating out his omegas for a snack while they worship his monster cock.

2. Liam was probably found out in the middle of the woods, lost and alone during his first Heat. He’d been turned and left for dead by his alpha, who assumed he was too weak to survive the bite. Stiles only comes across him because he went to go get fresh water for Derek to drink.

3. The water was quite explicitly to drink because during Heat, Derek loves to cultivate his musk– the tent absolutely reeking of sex and virile alpha. There is lots of pit licking and his ample body hair is definitely matted with all the cum and slick.

4. Back to Liam now that my tangent is done– Stiles tries to hide him at first. He’s so small and young and scared, the last thing he needs is to be knotted over and over again and to be made to care for his omega-bonded once they have tired themselves out on breeding. He is but a child himself, Stiles doesn’t even know that his womb is fully developed.

5. Derek, of course, sniffs out an unclaimed omega on his territory during Heat and sets straight to ravaging him. Stiles does what he can to take away some of the overwhelming licentiousness of it by soaking up Derek’s main attention– waving his milky breasts in his alphas face, gently teasing at Derek’s hole (he’s the only one allowed to touch the alpha in such a profoundly intimate and tender area) and when he sees Derek knotting before Liam is ready– sitting on his face and making his leader nearly suffocate on his slick so he pops his knot outside of Liam’s young omega-cunt.

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  1. Liam would totally be the kind of kid that has angry, frustrated ruts against his mattress every night and only is more worked up about it come morning. He’d grumble and stomp at his sticky boxers and sheets as he had to ball them up and do another load of laundry. And because he’s so angry with himself about not being able to control it, he refuses to just take ‘some time to himself’ and so the problem just gets worse and worse– his balls all swollen and sensitive. 
  2. It only makes it worse that he has to spend so much time around the rest of the pack. They’re all older and beautiful and athletic and he gets so riled up running around the woods with them. It’s just a horde of hormones as they all sweat and fight and even have the occasional puppy pile after they’re all exhausted. It’s hard to think right when he’s smothered in all of them and he hates that he can’t figure it all out. He feels confused and frustrated and like the runt of the littler sometimes and so instead of just luxuriating in that enhanced intimacy like everyone else (they’re totally casually all hooking up together) he acts out. 
  3. Everyone else just thinks he’s kind of an asshole in that way that a lot of kids his age are, like Jackson was, but Derek sees through that. Being the connoisseur of angst that he is, and totally emotionally stunted and immature, he knows just what’s going on. And Derek is totally the master of sexual healing by the time he’s a successful alpha to them all. Because let’s be real, Derek’s a bit of a slut, and he used to be happily until he was abused, but the love of his pack got him back to the place where sex was just an expression of joy and intimacy and he wants to give that to Liam so there’s one less thing that makes his adolescence hard. He’s already a werewolf with anger issues. 
  4. The pack totally knows what’s up when he takes Liam into the woods for a little one on one practice and they all snicker and bump shoulders because they’ve all been there before, all for different reasons, but turns out Derek’s a good listener and a great dick and sex with his is downright therapeutic. He was gentle and slow and made Isaac feel safe. He gave Jackson what he needed and not what he asked for and kept it between just the two of them. He made Stiles feel important and part of something and sexy. He let Scott relax and have fun and feel needed. He made Theo feel stable and normal and necessary. And now he’s gonna give Liam control and release and comfort. 
  5. It’s all too easy to get the other boy so riled up that he’s acting more on instinct that anything else– making confused, aroused whining noises as Derek pins his chest to the ground and Liam can’t help himself from rubbing that plush, bubble butt of his in his crotch. Derek’s got his cock fucking between Liam’s thick thighs and under his balls before the kid even realizes they’re having sex. It’s half a battle and half making love, but Liam’s come three times before he’s out of energy and after they’re crumpled in a pile, panting and sweat slicked, he cries in relief. Derek holds him all through it and they have several more sessions before Liam starts to kiss, starts to hold back, starts to realize it’s okay to have this. They gradually move into bringing him into the pack dynamics and soon it’s a whole smorgasbord of man butts. ^^ 

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  1. I was thrilled that that fic did as well as it did, and I think that I’d have to do a next piece from Derek’s perspective to give us the whole enchilada– especially since he’s pretty much a passive participator in the fic. It would probably be set before they hook up but lead on through to after that moment. It would be about him opening up to each member of the pack, slowly, in his own way, and have a little moment with each of them. And Stiles would be the last, of course, because he’s the one person that Derek is still afraid of and he doesn’t want to admit why. 
  2. Derek would totally be one of those people that would lay down the line in the strangest of places, even while he’s being so obvious about his affections. Like during movie nights he’d somehow always end up next to Stiles and one of them would inevitably fall asleep on the other and there would be cuddling that everyone politely ignored, but then he’d turn around and say Stiles couldn’t come on full moon runs with them because he was worried that when he was shifted and under the influence of the moon, he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from trying to mount that beautiful boy. 
  3. The pack would totally try and drop him little hints everywhere that maybe Stiles was into him too and maybe that would be a good thing and maybe he should just take a chance. Lydia would just slip all of Stiles’ favorite places and foods and romantic ideas into conversation without looking at him. Jackson would sniff and shrug and say he wished he had someone who looked after him like Stiles did Derek. Scott would just be like, “Dude, you have truly massive balls. Use them.” Derek would not be amused by that one and would probably spend the next week or two very shy of his swollen low hangers until Isaac slyly mentioned that Stiles thought they were super masculine and hot. 
  4. Derek would probably try and fail– multiple times– to initiate anything in his human form and just get so grumpy and so discouraged because he just can’t ever get the timing right or get his mouth to actually say eloquent things or to flirt with Stiles the way it comes to easy to him with everyone else. He’d have almost given up before The Heat of This Moment happens and then when it was done and he woke up before Stiles, he’d be in full panic because what is he supposed to do with this now?! He just fucked the guy he’s crushing on as a wolf!!!
  5. Derek would try so hard to be loving with him in his human form, but sometimes get overwhelmed and just shift mid hug. Stiles would just laugh, but Derek could always see a little hint of disappointment in his eyes. And it would take a long time to be able to face them and have a real conversation, but in the mean time, Derek’s long tongue is really great at eating Stiles out and can curl around pretty much the entire length of his cute, small cock. Derek loves to fuck him in wolf form because he loves to knot and tie with him, and have an excuse to be all wrapped up, naked and musky and sticky for a long time. It’s just intimate to him in a way he can’t describe to be all gross together and enjoy it, and Stiles takes it in stride. 
  6. Derek totally takes them public to the pack by accident. They’re all hanging out one day and he’s just not harping about how he’s acting or looking or what he’s saying for once and as they all fix lunch around each other in the kitchen, he just comes up behind Stiles with the havarti for his sandwich, puts his hand on the small of the other boy’s back, and rubs his face gently against his throat as Stiles hums and makes them both a triple decker. Derek doesn’t even hear the wolf whistles as he licks and bites along the skin, up to his jaw, before nuzzling his ear and pulling away. Then when he looks out at all those smug, I-told-you-so faces, he totally full-shifts and everyone coo’s over him and ruffles his fur and he tries his damnedest not to wag his tail at five thousand miles an hour. 
  7. He fails that too. 

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Friend! Friend– friend. You are speaking my language, let me tell you. I amall about that part of a man. So deliciously soft and deliciously musky with that lovely tickle and scratch of hair. :3 I am very sympathetic with your prompt Stiles because let me tell you, I would spend all my weekends there if I had the choice. :P

So, for this I’ve been thinking lately about writing my own super casual, extended Teen Wolf version of  How to Howl at the Moon by Eli Easton (it’s so good y'all– especially the audiobook because that reader has the most delicious, deep country drawl that makes you feel things) and I’d totally got there for this idea.

1. Stiles and Isaac would be troubled young men that came to Mad Creek because they heard of the quickened community that the Hales had set up– a haven for people like them where they didn’t have to hide anymore or be afraid. And of course Sheriff Hale would take an instant interest in Stiles, finding the boy so earthy and sweet and wonderful. His hound wants to tackle him down and cuddle him for days and let that little florist find some peace and stop shying away from the world.

2. It takes a little chasing because Derek is gruff and socially awkward and a little overeager sometimes and Stiles, being the fox that he is, has a hard time letting himself get caught, especially with his history. But they get there eventually and once they do, they’re that quiet, soft sort of couple that isn’t so into PDA, but when they’re home alone, they’re inextricably intertwined.

3. Stiles feels safe all smushed up in Derek, loving to lay on the couch with him at night and lay his head in his lap. He nuzzles into the deep, heady, homey musk of Derek’s crotch, relaxing into his surprisingly soft uniform pants and then worming up under his shirt to lip and lick gently at his furry belly. His skin in so warm and Derek fingers through his hair, rumbling gently as he lets the boy be utterly animal in his affection.

4. At some point his pants come off and he’s always freeballing, and he slowly sinks into the couch, opening up his thick thighs and sighing as he guides Stiles’ head further down, letting him burrow. Because he’s a remarkable creature, even after everything, he still loves a firm hand, loves having this alpha male sheriff use his strength and control to hold him down, hold him together.

5. Derek’s got a large set of heavy, low breeder balls, a soft, warm, long foreskin, and a dusky, eager hole that Stiles loves to feast on. Derek practically pins him with the strength of his thighs and massages Stiles’ back and chest and quivering stomach as the boy groans and licks, sucks and nibbles, squirms as he whines and loses himself in it. The cabin is warm, the tv is quiet, and Derek’s skin is soft beneath the scratch of his dense, dark pubes. The thin sheen of sweat he gets as he starts to roll his hips along to Stiles’ ministrations starts to make the boy’s flushed, pink cheeks stick and drag and as he nibbles at Derek’s perineum, Derek’s cock is drooling precum in his hair. They’ll ride that low, almost frustrating simmer for hours, letting the cool of the evening turn into the cold of the night, but not feeling an ounce of it in their fevered coupling. They’re not the type to fuck hard and fast, over and over throughout the night. Instead they build and build, Derek’s balls drawing tighter as his stomach muscles start to tremble and his foreskin gets stickier and sticker even as Stiles gets his tongue between the hood and his cockhead to lick the salt away every time it starts to overflow. Derek puts one large, rough hand between Stiles’ thighs to let him rut his short, plump, pink cock leisurely between his fingers and across his palm, and massages his balls as the boy sighs and bites the crease of his thighs sharply when he comes. Derek smiles as he plays with the mess, waiting just long enough for Stiles to get his senses back before his tightens his leg lock again, maneuvers the boy into his ass to lick him to his own blissful release. Derek isn’t the type to shoot, but instead gushes a heavy, thick flow of spunk that Stiles drunkenly laps at, letting it flow across his lips and down his chin to gather in the folds of Derek’s ample sac, to mat in his own chest hair, to trickle between those hairy, delicious, fat cheeks he’d spent so long between. He hums as his mate goes back to running his hands through his hair and lips at Derek’s stomach again, watching the older man smile down at him and wipe his face clean with his free hand, pushing his coated thumb between those plush lips. They fall asleep on that couch instead of the bed quiet often, but neither really mind.

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Hmmmm, yessss. I will not apologize for even an inch of this because I am not sorry about any of it. :P All of it is glorious and perfect and all of it is hereby approved of by me. ^^ 

Derek wearing absolutely nothing but an old, ribbed tank top at night when he gets home at night, not caring that he’s got his floppy, hairy bits dangling all around as he wanders through the kitchen, grabbing a cold beer before he comes to sit with Stiles. It’s so hot he almost can’t handle his boy’s needy cuddles, but they open the door to catch a breeze (they’re out in the woods, if someone catches sight of Derek freeballing, it’s their own fault) and Derek spreads his legs good and wide to allow ample room. 

When it comes time for sleep, he sheds even that skimpy shirt though, which has already started to stick to the swell of his pecs by the time Stiles gets him off just before bed. He jokes that he’s going to wax his chest hair just to get a little relief and Stiles scowls and tugs his low hanger rudely in retaliation, saying he better not or there won’t be near as many leisurely nipple nursings from him. 

Derek’s out like a light, sleeps like the dead, exhausted from the day. His slack body weight is enough that only his limbs jerk and twitch at night and Stiles can’t help but laugh at how inelegant a sleeper he is. Sprawled out on his back, thin sheen of sweat everywhere, cock stuck to his stomach, legs spread, occasionally farting so loud he startles himself into confused snuffles. It’s gross and cute and so damn endearing. Stiles tends to drool quite a bit himself, but he still thinks he’s a better bed mate than Derek. 

The big, grumpy hound is always loathe to wake and Stiles only knows one sure fire way to get him up without incurring a drowsy wrath. It takes the overwhelming, almost violent spike of orgasm to get him to open his eyes, so until then, Stiles just gets to play during the slow build of his feverish, lethargic arousal. He gets to slowly lick the ridges of Derek’s pec and circle the nipples, laughing at the wiry, long hairs that sprout on the skirts of his mate’s areolas like crazy eyelashes. Derek hates plucking them because they hurt like a sonofabitch, but then grumbles when they get this comically long. 

He gets to nuzzle that dark, soft chest hair, kissing at the birthmark splotch of white just over his heart, and dragging up his collar bones to that delicious juncture of his neck and shoulders where he’s good and salty. Derek starts to make these affectionate rumbly sounds and his cock fattens nicely, though it’s not yet heavy enough to pull away from where it’s stuck to his belly. Stiles doesn’t have to feel embarrassed on his own when he snuffles down to Derek’s somehow adorable armpits and he buries his upturned nose in the soft skin, grooming the fine hair with his tongue and breathing in the heady musk that Derek permeates that’s so alpha. 

Derek’s mother may be the matriarch and governor of the town, but Derek’s the sheriff, and that makes something deliciously submissive in Stiles spark. Derek’s the law, the firm right hand, and he wants to be held down. He scrapes his teeth down Derek’s ribs to nuzzle and lick and nibble at his belly, teasing the rim of his navel and lipping at his treasure trail before groaning and sinking into the ample, dark bush that’s never seen a pair of trimmers and is always bursting over low slung sweatpants. 

It’s weirdly seductive and innocent at the same time– boyish and manly– and Stiles is shameless as he just smears his face in Derek’s groin, rubbing his cheeks, nose, lips, forehead, chin, all over the warm, tacky, loose skin. He marks himself in his lover’s most intimate scent, getting up underneath his breeder balls to whine at his taint, licking at nipping and sniffing. Derek’s meaty thighs open on instinct for him, though the older man also starts to squirm, and Stiles knows just what he needs. 

He slides back up to fit his lips to the overhang of foreskin keeping Derek’s dusky glans from the cool morning air, and gives kittenish licks to the sticky, guppy mouth of it that’s salty with pre. He purses his mouth ever so gently around the swell of the head, hums to make Derek oversensitive, and then massages low on his stomach with his long, sure fingers to get his mate to whimper, twitch, and then let go, relieving himself into an open, willing mouth. 

It’s musky and warm and Stiles’ eyes flutter closed as he moans and lays his head down on Derek’s hip, being affection and sweet as he drains Derek’s bladder and feels more owned than ever before, in the best possible way. 

It’s hard to get at his ass like this, but Stiles still gives it some good effort, using his thumbs to part the bottoms of those fat, furry cheeks, licking hungrily to try and get a taste of Derek’s dusky hole. It’s always a fifty-fifty chance, and when he does get too, there’s usually not enough leeway to tongue fuck past the ring of muscle, but Derek will be soft and open from the night before, maybe even be leaking Stiles’ load from last night, and Stiles takes his time cleaning and pleasing him– grooming the soft, short hairs around that skin and making Derek arch minutely. 

Towards the end he nibbles and sucks and spends a lot of time in the creases of Derek’s thick thighs, turning his head to lip at his balls every once in a while, watching with glee as Derek finally stands fully erect– bobbing and swaying in his arousal. All Stiles has to do to get him to blow is gently push back the fevered, dewy foreskin to expose his cock head, and then ever so gently, scrape his teeth across the sensitive cleft on the underside. 

Derek’s body tenses, jerks, and his eyes blow open wide– seafoam green almost completely engulfed by his pupils– as he groans, waking to the sight of Stiles being painted with the thick, pearly gush of his cum. Once his balls have drawn as high as they’ll go and he’s leaked every last drop he can give, he pulls the slight boy up his body, turns them over so he’s smothering all that pale skin, and licks his lover clean, sharing sticky, cum scented kisses. 

He reaches down to massage Stiles’ plump, peachy cock to its own release and tangles their legs, enjoying the scratch of their hair against each other as he murmurs good morning to those sweet, torturous pink lips. No one in town says anything when the dedicated sheriff stops coming into work by six thirty sharp every morning, and can often be found enjoying brunch with that golden-eyed quickened fox on main street instead.  

Oops. You made me do a thing. :P Now I might actually have to start working on this fic, dammnit! 

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I am ALL ABOUT adorable tums and meaty thighs and big bums! And adding other kinks to that list is practically prerequisite! How can you ever have just one? 

I’m thinking something abo verse, chubby Stiles. He’s been best friends with Scott since they were tiny and always marveled at how huge his family was. He had two older sisters and a brother just for his own self and then there were all kinds of cousins and uncles, step-something’s and twice removed– even adoption cases and family friends that had just become a part of the fold. The Hales. Well known for their rare, strong alpha genetics. A good quarter of their family presented as such when fifteen percent of the world population was the average. 

They were always all so busy, all so caught up in a thousand other things that they never had much time for him, and that was okay, he didn’t mind. Used to being with just his dad, he liked more singular kinds of attention, intimate, quiet interactions and inside jokes. So his friendship with Scott was perfect. They could go out on the preserve together for hours, exploring what was– to them– a great unknown, and relying solely on each other. 

It lasted only as long elementary school and then come middle, everything and everybody started changing. More people started noticing Scott, but Stiles was still a shrinking violet. He couldn’t be mad at his friend because Scott was funny and nice and handsome and cool and so he should be getting more and more friends, but that left less and less time for just the two of them. And to make the gap even more noticeable, Scott started to show early– getting hard, defined lines showing through his body over the years, getting a strong jaw, joining aggressive sports and excelling. 

Stiles became a late bloomer of a wallflower and everyone had pretty much written him off as a goofy, awkward kid until puberty hit him like a sledge hammer at sixteen. He presented omega, rarest of all, and it was like overnight every set of eyes turned to him. His boyish, reedy frame grew soft and supple– thighs and hips ballooning to change the shape of his body as his belly made a noticeable pooch and his chest got pouty. 

He went from being that pale gangle of limbs to a plump, pink, fecund creature that made all the boys swoon. Male omegas were a strange thing– what a lot called accidents– because they bodies took on all the traits to carry, but they were still incapable of fertility. They self lubricate and lactate and look made to bear children, but there’s just no space in a boy to grow a womb, even as his body seems to yearn for it. 

He’s embarrassed of the changes and tries to continue hiding in baggy clothes and behind his babble, but boys flock to him now with heated eyes, trying to be subtle about they way they’re scenting him, putting their hands on him for no discernible reason, smiling and laughing and licking their lips way more than is necessary. Especially at the Hale house. 

Peter’s son, Jackson, who used to love to call him names, always seems to be finding some reason to be in the same room as Stiles, lounges at the open door of his expensive sports car with a leather jacket and shades for hours as Stiles roughhouses with the others outside, sits next to him every chance he gets, scent thick with that cologne they make containing alpha pheromones. 

Scott’s older brother, Derek, who used to snarl and call him brat bites at his lips every time Stiles is near, ears turning an endearing shade of red as he ducks his head and makes moves so smooth they almost don’t seem like a game. Almost. But his ribbed, too tight tanktops, and loose, too low sweat pants, and perfectly messy hair are too enticing to be effortless. 

Scott himself zones out when Stiles is around– goes cross eyed and dopey smiled and breathes heavy through his mouth. Stiles can barely carry on conversations with him and when they wrestle, Scott usually ends up pinning him to the ground and rubbing his hips in circles against the soft, fat jut of Stiles’ ass as he hums, slow and hypnotic. He always apologizes when Stiles tosses him off and scrabbles away indignantly, but he doesn’t even wait until Stiles isn’t looking to adjust his boner in his jeans. 

Stiles thinks he hates it, thinks it’s ruined everything, but then comes his first heat. Suddenly all that weight he’d been putting on, all that extra jiggle and softness seems to mean something because his body is burning for days on end and he has this limitless, voracious energy. He lays in the center of a huge bed, naked, dewy and sticky from sweat and slick and what else he doesn’t even know. 

He’s just aware that he has so many needs. He feels like he’s always hungry, like his dick will never stop being hard, like his nipples are sore– breasts overfull– and his ass is unbearably empty. He whines and writhes and begs to be sated, begs for attention. 

Luckily there’s a house full of boys willing to give it. 

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Ugggggh *claws at face* Why must you say these things to me? Alpha Derek still loving it up his butt? :3333 And especially by his prissy, little, bratty cousin. Jackson’s always been an arrogant ass and Derek’s always been able to put him in his place, easy, but now he’s hanging off of his knot and moaning like a whore as it makes him gush harder inside the sweet, soft omega beneath him. It makes Stiles clench tighter around him, milk him more aggressively. 

Derek wraps his arms around that flushed, doughy body as tight as he can, hugging it to him, burying his face in Stiles’ shoulder and licking at his feverish skin, unable to help how he’s popping his hairy ass higher and higher, begging for Jackson to get his slender cock deeper inside of him. He can feel his cousin’s knot bumping at his rim and he’s about half as large as Derek, but it’s still enough of a stretch to make his eyes roll back in his head. 

Scott’s already spent and has wriggled his way under Stiles’ chest to lap and nurse messily at those swollen, sensitive pink tits that are gushing a sweet, musky milk. It’s running down his chin and sticky in his thin chest hair, and he’s making soft cooing noises as he rubs his soft, wet cock against Stiles’ love handles. It’s making tacky noises that are obscene paired with his gummy suckles and Stiles runs one hand through his floppy hair, affectionate. 

Jackson is huffing and puffing like he’s running a marathon, his chest and neck pink with exertion, his hair matted to his forehead. His flat, smooth stomach is quivering as he reaches up with one hand to play with his own nipples, pistoning his hips hard enough to make smacking noises against Derek’s ass. His little, full balls growing heavy as his knot starts to swell, desperate to breed. 

Derek’s holding onto Stiles by his thighs, gripping them tight enough to bruise as he rolls his hips between the two boys surrounding him, grinding deeper into Stiles and pushing some of his own cum out from around his knot, and then pushing back to try and get Jackson to tie him. 

The four of them don’t leave the room for days, nourished on Stiles’ body and burrowing together in a pile to sleep. Come end of first heat, Stiles finds he’s more than happy to be the center of attention, might even like leveraging their affection against each other just to get a more aggressive, possessive fucking. Though Derek and Scott seem to be the only ones really invested in that. Jackson always puts on a show, but ends up eating Derek out and hotdogging his cousin’s ass while he watches him plow their omega. 

Derek loves it more than he’d ever admit, and he only lets Jackson fuck him when he has the excuse of heat to cover the behavior, but he’s always more than receptive to a finger or two. 

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Alrighty everyone, so very obviously there’s gonna be some consent issues here. Read no further if that’s not your thing! 

1. I think that I’d go established relationship on this one because I like the idea that Peter isn’t just doing this because villainous hand wringing reasons, y’know? He’s not some petulant sugar daddy that got rejected by the prettiest little minx in town. Maybe even, he never gave much thought to Stiles at all before, but the second he sees his nephew with him? The nephew that caused their family to burn, that put him in a vegetated state for years, and that stopped what should have been their revenge, slashed his throat, and took his power? Well, he can’t just letDerek be happy as easy as that, can he?

2. He thinks he can do it just on his own at first. Stiles is young, Stiles is horny, and Peter is Peter. How hard can it be to corner the awkward thing, turn his charm up to eleven, and have the whelp’s legs conveniently spread and his hole speared the second that Derek walks in the door? He goes and gets his deepest v, has his hair trimmed and shaped, even skips his chest waxing because he’s seen that Derek stopped not long after they got together and Stiles has occasionally run appreciative fingers through it. He corners the boy after a pack meeting, when Derek is busy helping the others, and he flirts and he touches and he lets his eyes smolder, and all he gets in return is a laugh. A fucking laugh. Stiles doesn’t even act guilty or ashamed, he calls out to Derek, and Peter has to watch his thoroughly amused face when he tells Derek that Peter hit on him, like it’s some kind of joke.The flames are officially stoked. 

3. He comes across the spell on accident, really. He’d been looking more for the kind of direct path to make love turn sour. Something that would make passions grow in the wrong direction or something to just wither them right off the bat. But that’s difficult, that’s not really in the realm of magic. You can’t take something authentic and organic and destroy it. Even permutations of it are hard. Manipulation of what’s already there is more what magic is for, and so he finds his in. It’s dangerous and risky. He could not project his essence correctly, could get stuck, could get forced out by the strength of his nephew’s will. There’s a thousand sound reasons not to try, but there’s one really fucking good one in the opposite column. So he does. 

4. It works, and Peter smirks at himself in the mirror as he feels his nephew squirming in the background of his own mind. He lets the insolent pup watch as he undresses this young, strong body, lets himself get to know it. He lets the boy feel the full taboo of it as his uncle molests the body of the boy he watched grow up and enjoys it enough to get dripping hard. Derek is horrified, thought he’d already seen the worst of the malformed structure of his uncle’s mind after the fire, but this is a depth of madness he never thought he’d see. The shell shock makes it all the easier to push Derek to the back as Peter dresses himself back up, slicks back his hair, and gives Stiles a call. 

5. Derek is just present enough to watch, but too broken to resist as Peter jumps on him the second that he’s in the door. He doesn’t have to play pretend with the boy– doesn’t have the patience for it anyway– just makes animal growls and rough grunts and bares his teeth with glee as the young boy doesn’t catch on. He just goes with it, laughs about how Derek is ‘certainly rambunctious today’ and has genuine fun with the way his “boyfriend” is being rough with him, nonverbal and single minded. He thinks it’s a game, lets Peter bite his throat, finger him dry, slap his ass and thighs, and call him a dirty slut in low growls. Peter fucks him in a way only he knows is meant to ruin him, and it’s all the better for the way Stiles lets him. Peter only lets Derek back at the reins right at the height of his second orgasm, so he can enjoy one of them, but let his nephew nearly puke himself with guilt for continuing to thrust and moan and clench Stiles tight as he spills another load inside of him, aware of his rape. The devastation is beautiful. 

So, there’s that. :P Hope you wanted dark because you sure got it. Sorry! 

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Just in case this comes across your dash and you aren’t looking at this on my blog so you can see– this is the picture nonny means. ;) Beautiful, isn’t it? :P I love it so, so much and have actually always wanted to write a fic for it. Right now, let’s do some headcanons though, ya? 

1. Stiles is the pack emissary and that totally gives him a position that’s separate from everyone else’s. He’s the authority on everything magic that the wolves might encounter and so he’s pretty prominent in the dynamics, plus he’s dating the alpha. But, that also goes to his head quite a bit and so he often thinks that he gets the last say in things that he doesn’t.

2. Derek runs his pack very, very traditionally and has had no qualms about breaking down all their human expectations to enforce werewolf norms. So it’s nothing to him to be dating Stiles  and fucking other pack members for dominance or for intimacy and bonding and he doesn’t even blink an eye for having that sex publicly. In fact, he’s frequently naked in front of all of them, especially with his full wolf shift now, and when he’s horny, he just walks in with an erection and pulls Stiles’ head into his lap while the boy is trying to have a conversation thank you very much. 

3. So establishing digression aside, Stiles steps out of line quite frequently and that usually means Derek being firm with him and not being afraid to shame him in front of the rest of the pack. Usually it’s just stupid shit– pledging a fraternity kind of things like being the house butler for a bit or something– but sometimes it gets kind of intense. Like the time his hubris got Isaac hurt and so the punishment was pain for pain and Derek didn’t even bat an eyelash at grabbing Stiles around the back of his neck, forcing him over his knee, and spanking his bare ass until it was cherry red and he was tearing up in front of everybody, right after they got back from the mission. And the time Stiles slept with someone to get some information they needed without letting Derek know and tried to hide it, but werewolf senses mean jizz is really hard to hide and so of course he was found out. He had to kneel in front of his mate and try not to melt into the floor in embarrassment as Derek growled ‘Mine’ and marked his territory… with his piss.

4. What gets him in the position pictured– naked and taking it in front of all his friends, dripping precum enough to make a puddle and trying not to catch their eyes as he whimpers and moans and Derek is a hot, overwhelming presence behind him– is when he gets upset after one of those last punishments and walks out. He leaves in a huff and turns off his phone and just disappears for a couple days. And the pack nearly goes crazy trying to find him, especially Derek. They all fell into these weird pack behaviors pretty easily because they are wolves and it appeals to their instincts, but Stiles has had to just manually adjust his entire brain chemistry by force of will. 

5. They all feel like shit for it, but when he does show back up, he apologizes, won’t let them be nice to him, says he has to follow the rules just like everyone else and demands to be punished for going AWOL. Derek is simultaneously proud and hurting for him and so when he does this, he’s overly emotional and desperate. Stiles can’t see it, but everyone else watches the the tenderness and borderline fear in his face as he yanks Stiles’ head up so the boy bares his throat and uses his knees to make him spread his legs, show off the dangle of his cock and balls to everyone as they start to fuck. They watch him struggle not to bury his face in his mate’s neck, not to murmur softly to him and kiss him and pull him closer. Derek’s chest is heaving, stomach muscles spasming, and they can see how badly he wants to smother his body against Stiles’ and make love to him instead of this punishing fuck. But they’re all made aware now of just how seriously Derek takes his role and these dynamics because he doesn’t. He growls, low and mean, bites harshly, holds Stiles by the hair hard enough to hurt a little and reaches forward with an uncaring hand anytime Stiles’ thighs start to quiver with pleasure and yanks his balls to pull him back from the edge. “You think you’re too good for us? Better than anyone else here? You think you’re above the rest of the pack?” 

6. Derek breeds him and then moves aside for all the other boys to do the same. They wreck Stiles. They own him. And once he’s been punished and he’s lying in a mess on the mattress with the cum starting to cool, they pet his flanks and brush his sweaty hair away from his face. They kiss his tear stained cheeks and Derek calmly, gently, lovingly spreads his thighs and in front of all his betas, goes down for Stiles. He licks up all of his subordinates’ cum and cleans his mate. He sucks the creases of Stiles’ thighs and nuzzles at his balls, and then sucks him into his mouth and finally lets the boy come. Derek whispers sweet nothings into his soft, hairy belly, pressing kisses and nuzzling like he can get closer if he just tries. The pack leaves after their own worrying to let them sleep the night, just them. 

7. After that Stiles is just as argumentative and bull headed, but he’s more careful with his decisions. He’ll scream about his opinions until he’s blue in the face, but no more blindsiding everyone, no more making calls while everyone else is oblivious to it, no more secret back up plans or any of that shit. He still gets spanked every so often, but that’s when he asks for it. ;) 

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1. Okay, so I really like the idea of Derek using his lycanthropy as a sort of escape from all the shit he has to deal with every day– the crippling guilt, doubt, and his fight to control his anger. Being able to just give in to base instincts and not have to think so much about every little decision he makes takes so much off of his shoulders and makes him feel so much lighter. It’s easier to do now that he’s part of a stable pack and shifting isn’t just for survival anymore. He can go back to when he was a kid and he could just shift because it felt good to be wild and free for a while and not because his life was on the line. 

2. Stiles is actually the one to suggest that maybe they could take it a step further, that Derek doesn’t have to shift and run off into the woods all by himself. If he wanted, he could crack and snap into his beta form around the house, and then the elongated teeth, overgrown sideburns, and clack of his claws would let his mate know that he was in the middle of something, that he needed a little peace and reassurance. 

3. That doesn’t automatically translate straight into puppy play, but evolves on down. At first, when Derek shifted in the house, Stiles would just give him some space, be a little quieter and more careful and if Derek approached, gentle. And it’s that care that makes it something more. It starts with Stiles just carding his fingers through all the overgrown hair on Derek until he makes low, contented rumbling noises, to him getting his hands under Derek’s shirt to rub in long, firm ovals up and down his flanks. The animal noises get more insistent and louder and Derek starts unconsciously posturing, flexing his hips to stick out his ass and burrowing his face into the familiar, comforting musk of Stiles’ groin. 

4. The first time it’s outwardly sexual, that they do something about the stiffies they both start popping every time this happens, Stiles is just sitting on the couch, watching Netflix, and Derek keeps coming closer and closer, wandering around the room in concentric circles like he can’t help but be drawn in by an unfelt gravity. Soon the older boy is on his knees on the plush rug Stiles insisted they buy, and his eyelids are fluttering as he nuzzles into Stiles’ crotch, whuffing and rumbling open mouthed against his thinly clothed skin. Stiles reaches down and starts petting him subconsciously, spreads his legs open to let Derek sniff and lick and mouth to his heart’s content, and doesn’t even pay much attention to the way his hands are sliding. It’s not even ten minutes before his long fingers slip right under the back of Derek’s waist band and his boyfriend is rolling his hips in the sluttiest way to get them inside of him. Stiles only realizes what’s happening when Derek snaps out a couple honest-to-god barks and then howls his orgasm, clenching his furry ass around Stiles’ fingers and drooling his cum all over one of Stiles’ feet. 

5. Derek is much too proud to ever ask for it again with his words, but Stiles always knows when he walks in after classes are done for the day and there’s a leather collar placed on the kitchen island. He smiles softly as he fingers the soft, supple material, walks to the bedroom, and finds Derek naked and curled at the foot of their bed. All he has to do is scratch behind the older boy’s ears to get him to lift his head and then he fastens the buckle around that strong neck. He leans down and kisses at the scruffy face he loves so much, fingering those blushing ears as they come to a point, and giggling softly when Derek licks him sloppily in return, panting eagerly around his sharp teeth. “C’mon, I wanna get an early start on dinner,” and he turns back around, heading for the fridge with his boyfriend hot on his heels, bullying him with his large body even as he’s on all fours, and making Stiles scream and laugh as they wrestle and race. Usually it lasts the rest of the night and Stiles fucks him to a hands free orgasm while Derek takes animal positions and makes the sexiest, most primal noises. Come morning, Derek will be whispering sweet nothings to wake him up and finally putting his own hands back to good use. 


Anonymous askednae

Prompt: Derek is hit with sex pollen by a hunter that makes him unbearably hard for days but it doesn't let him cum unless he's inside someone and it won't wear off until he jizzes it out of his system. But Derek loves bottoming. Stiles and Jackson help him though it. Stiles by pounding Derek's ass and Jackson by taking Derek's big dick and knot. Love your headcanons!

Ah! Thanks so much! I always worry that they’re just tedious tide-overs for most people until I publish another full fic, but it does my heart good to see more requests for them. Plus it makes me feel like I’m actually putting out content semi regularly instead of just once every other month. :P But anyway! 

1. I’d love it if Derek immediately knew what it was, because I still don’t think we got enough of him in the show being the guy that actually knew what was going on since he grew up in this world. We got occasional glimpses, but it could have been so much more. Anyway, he takes the hunter down, but it doesn’t feel like any kind of victory because he knows this kind of weaponized strain. It’s old school– considered inhumane by the more modern hunting groups like the Argents that only step in when humans are endangered– and was used as a terror incitier. There’s all different variants, but the blanket effect is that they accentuate aggressors and suppress inhibitions. They were used to make shape shifters look more primal and less in control. Whether through violence or sex or animalistic behaviors, it was used often times to justify poaching and cullings of his kind. 

2. Of course he tries to keep it secret from everyone and find a solution to the problem all on his own. He’s that way about pretty much everything anyway, but when it comes down to him no longer being able to control his sexual urges, that takes it to a whole other level. So he spends days in his loft, naked and sweating and painfully frustrated as he tries everything he can think of– magic to mundane. He makes poultices and breathes incense, tries anal beads and fucks flesh lights, even contemplates posting a private ad and just letting some strangers walk into his unlocked apartment to let him drain his balls dry and get rid of this. 

3. Jackson is actually the one that shows up first, wandering in with that same, quivering little-boy-trying-to-be-brave voice that he always has when he’s alone with Derek. It almost makes the alpha feel bad for how he handled things with his first beta, almost. Because Jackson is still a smug, self important little ass and Derek would find him irritating if it wasn’t somehow kind of endearing. The kid is up his ass twenty four seven, always trying to figure out better angles to get what he wants from his alpha and sire. In this case, it’s actually a blessing that he won’t take no for an answer, because he comes in even when Derek shouts for him to go away and they’re staring at each other from across the room– Derek completely naked, sweating, and hard enough to drill for diamonds, and Jackson, wide eyed and breathing heavy and tenting his designer jeans as he takes it all in. 

4. Derek can’t even fight it anymore. The pollen has been in his system too long, he’s too tired from staving it off, and Jackson is smirking at him as he sheds his leather jacket and licks his lips. So Derek just bares his teeth in reply, peels back his foreskin, and spreads his legs enough so Jackson can sit. For all the blustery the teen usually has, the second he’s given an opportunity to be someone’s bottom bitch, he takes it without hesitation. Derek’s surprised to see he has ginger pubes as he gets naked and the kid must have plenty practice with himself because Derek’s bottoming out in minutes. It helps that the pollen is making him precum fucking rivers it wants him to mate so badly, but still. Slick doesn’t make an unworked hole this magically greedy, it just doesn’t. Luckily, there doesn’t seem to be any need for pretense though, because Jackson is riding his dick and moaning for it like he’s in a porno and Derek can’t help but feel his entire system set aflame with the thrill that mounting his beta gives him. Simultaneously marking. claiming, dominating, and caring for his closest pack member makes his balls practically churn with arousal and he starts meeting Jackson’s hard slams down with eager fucks of his hips. 

5. Only thing is, after twenty minutes he hasn’t come, not even once, and while Derek’s definitely an advocate of marathon sex, it’s only fun because as a werewolf his exhaustion meter is almost non existent and no matter how many loads he blows, there’ll always be another in ten minutes. But Jackson’s already spilled all over his alpha’s dark, thick treasure trail twice and it’s just making Derek froth that he hasn’t started to cream that freckled ass he’s wrecking. He doesn’t want to admit to himself why that is– what else he needs– but luckily he doesn’t have to, because he’s apparently a thousand times more transparent than he wanted to be and he doesn’t quite know whether he likes how well his pack knows him or whether it scares him, but either way Jackson is somehow fondly sneering at him from atop his cock and says he knows just what this situation needs. 

6. Derek doesn’t have time to be surprised that Stiles is somehow Jackson’s booty call because whatever his beta said in the text he sent while still groping one of Derek’s pecs and frotting his own dick in his spunk on Derek’s abs, has Stiles showing up in only a zip up hoodie and sweats that are sexily two sizes too big. The kid’s undressed before Derek’s even finished the moan he started because he’s gonna be in a threesome with some way too young guys for him and all he can stare at is Stiles’ cock. He’s uncut and hung, but in a different way than Derek. He’s all length. A third the girth of the werewolf, but almost twice as long. It was made to get in fast and go nice and deep– a real prostate poker– and the alpha is flipping Jackson to fuck him quiet into the mattress while also presenting his hot, hairy hole in the space of a second. Stiles laughs at him, low and amused beyond belief, but all Derek can do in reply is growl and lift his ass higher, make his hole clench and unclench for him, and then he’s having his flank petted as he’s dicked so deep he swears he can taste cock from the inside. He knots Jackson before Stiles’ balls slap against his own swollen, nearly softball sized sack, and finally feeling relief as all that stopped up cum starts to empty into his beta, making the lewdest, wettest noises as Derek grinds inside of him purely by the virtue of how good Stiles is giving it to him. 

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1. Okay, so I really like the idea of Derek using his lycanthropy as a sort of escape from all the shit he has to deal with every day– the crippling guilt, doubt, and his fight to control his anger. Being able to just give in to base instincts and not have to think so much about every little decision he makes takes so much off of his shoulders and makes him feel so much lighter. It’s easier to do now that he’s part of a stable pack and shifting isn’t just for survival anymore. He can go back to when he was a kid and he could just shift because it felt good to be wild and free for a while and not because his life was on the line. 

2. Stiles is actually the one to suggest that maybe they could take it a step further, that Derek doesn’t have to shift and run off into the woods all by himself. If he wanted, he could crack and snap into his beta form around the house, and then the elongated teeth, overgrown sideburns, and clack of his claws would let his mate know that he was in the middle of something, that he needed a little peace and reassurance. 

3. That doesn’t automatically translate straight into puppy play, but evolves on down. At first, when Derek shifted in the house, Stiles would just give him some space, be a little quieter and more careful and if Derek approached, gentle. And it’s that care that makes it something more. It starts with Stiles just carding his fingers through all the overgrown hair on Derek until he makes low, contented rumbling noises, to him getting his hands under Derek’s shirt to rub in long, firm ovals up and down his flanks. The animal noises get more insistent and louder and Derek starts unconsciously posturing, flexing his hips to stick out his ass and burrowing his face into the familiar, comforting musk of Stiles’ groin. 

4. The first time it’s outwardly sexual, that they do something about the stiffies they both start popping every time this happens, Stiles is just sitting on the couch, watching Netflix, and Derek keeps coming closer and closer, wandering around the room in concentric circles like he can’t help but be drawn in by an unfelt gravity. Soon the older boy is on his knees on the plush rug Stiles insisted they buy, and his eyelids are fluttering as he nuzzles into Stiles’ crotch, whuffing and rumbling open mouthed against his thinly clothed skin. Stiles reaches down and starts petting him subconsciously, spreads his legs open to let Derek sniff and lick and mouth to his heart’s content, and doesn’t even pay much attention to the way his hands are sliding. It’s not even ten minutes before his long fingers slip right under the back of Derek’s waist band and his boyfriend is rolling his hips in the sluttiest way to get them inside of him. Stiles only realizes what’s happening when Derek snaps out a couple honest-to-god barks and then howls his orgasm, clenching his furry ass around Stiles’ fingers and drooling his cum all over one of Stiles’ feet. 

5. Derek is much too proud to ever ask for it again with his words, but Stiles always knows when he walks in after classes are done for the day and there’s a leather collar placed on the kitchen island. He smiles softly as he fingers the soft, supple material, walks to the bedroom, and finds Derek naked and curled at the foot of their bed. All he has to do is scratch behind the older boy’s ears to get him to lift his head and then he fastens the buckle around that strong neck. He leans down and kisses at the scruffy face he loves so much, fingering those blushing ears as they come to a point, and giggling softly when Derek licks him sloppily in return, panting eagerly around his sharp teeth. “C’mon, I wanna get an early start on dinner,” and he turns back around, heading for the fridge with his boyfriend hot on his heels, bullying him with his large body even as he’s on all fours, and making Stiles scream and laugh as they wrestle and race. Usually it lasts the rest of the night and Stiles fucks him to a hands free orgasm while Derek takes animal positions and makes the sexiest, most primal noises. Come morning, Derek will be whispering sweet nothings to wake him up and finally putting his own hands back to good use. 

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1. After this, alphas are treated as rare commodities. They used to front line their harems, used to leave some of their mates at home to watch their borders while they toured across territories and acted as royalty and diplomats and occasionally warlords, usurping smaller groupings, pushing their alpha out, and taking any unbred omegas for their own. Now they’re hidden away, guarded by their harems and buried deep within the seats of their power. They’re rarely seen even, kept away to breeding dens to better try and repopulate. 

2. In order to keep Derek fertile and in rut, they inundate him with hormones– make all of his pregnant omegas sleep with him in piles. The boys swollen with his young nurse him on their milky tits, holding the swollen, sensitive buds to his lips as his head lolls in the haze of his own heat. None of them have been washed for weeks on end to flood him with the sweat and musk of his bred omegas, his own precum permanently oozing down his huge, hairy balls as droves of young men care for him. 

3. Any time he starts to get too worked up, gets handsy with one of the carriers, the others have to come and pin him down. It wouldn’t do to waste a load on someone who’s already with child, and while they wait for an omega at the peak of his cycle to be sent down to sate their alpha’s latest need, they do everything they can to stave off his lust. The awkwardly rotund boys try to keep him held down as his eyes flash and he snarls and struggles to tackle and mount one of them, to fuck and breed as he sees fit once again. One of them with grab his huge, hot sack in both hands and tug as hard as they can while another bites his pebbled, dusky nipples, and a third still spanks his thighs, ass, cock– whatever he can reach. Derek howls in frustration and doesn’t even have his erection flag for a second. 

4. Eventually his mate (Stiles, who is know running their harem and keeping them all safe) ushers the boy whose cunt it hottest and wettest down into the cavern to see their alpha. Liam’s never been bred by Derek before, and Stiles is sorry his first time has to be like this, but he’s young and so, so fecund, and he can’t keep finding reasons for the boy not to be mounted. So he’s firm with Jackson and Isaac, makes sure they can hold Derek back enough around their swollen stomachs to keep this civil, and then brings their youngest brother over. 

5. The second Derek scents Liam’s slick that’s been running down his thighs since they first started their descent, he bucks and howls, straining as he fucks his massive cock into the air, and in a show of virility, spreads his thighs and thrusts his hips to show off how overlarge and overfull his breeder balls are, making the sweaty, loose sack flop and smack and dangle. Stiles pulls Liam’s attention away from Derek’s brutish display by ushering him into a heated, sloppy kiss, bringing his long, dexterous fingers down to make sure the boy is stretched and ready for his breeding, and to get his own juices going. He takes the same approach as last time and tells Liam to wait for him to distract Derek before he mounts the alpha cock and works his knot. He himself walks over to Derek, kisses at him until the alpha’s chest stops heaving and he starts licking back into that warm, familiar mouth, and then seats himself on his mate’s face, moaning as the spice of his own slick makes Derek moan into his dripping ass and eat him out like he’s been starving down in this cavern. As soon as Derek’s attention is on burying his face as deep into Stiles’ ass as he can possibly fit it– nose mashing into his taint, jaw working tirelessly to lick into him– Liam straddles Derek’s hips and falls onto his cock, going balls deep on his first movement. The size of his alpha’s dick is long and thick enough to distend his stomach and when Derek fucks up to grind into him, those grapefruit sized balls slap against the meat of his ass with lewd noises. Instead of wasting time and energy and risking losing some of Derek’s cum by bobbing up and down, Liam does what he practiced on Stiles’ fingers and tongue and clenches and undulates his inner walls, milking the thick cock inside of him. 

6. It never takes long to make Derek tense up, growl, and wrap his legs tight around his omega to knot and seed him. He tied to Liam for twenty minutes after, empty liters of cum into his womb and gaining enough lucidity to hold the small, square boy to his sweaty, hairy chest, and murmur how good he’s doing, how strong and smart their litter will be, and how much Derek will love all of them. They all hope for alphas, knowing those boys will be raised until they can fend for themselves and then sent out to the furthest reaches of their parent’s territory to establish their own harems. The omegas may be sent out to help aid their brothers and carry their first pups, or if it takes long enough, will try and be the ones to give their father an alpha child.

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1, It’s an easy role for Stiles to assume, even though it’s not one that anyone asked him to take. He loves everyone in the pack enough to care about how much stress everything around them is inducing– can see how much of a toll it’s taking– and he wants to do something about it. Even as he’s made a more stable base for himself in the pack dynamics, he still can’t help but sometimes feel like he’s useless, or at least like he’s not contributing enough. Because he can do all the research, gather all the materials, help coach everyone through their control, but when it comes down to the real stuff, to the live or die moments, he just has to stand back and watch and hope he put enough in to help them make it through. He’s still the squishy human that can’t do anything but be guarded by the rest of them. 

2. It starts fairly innocuously, and because he’s kind of very slutty, but hey, so is everyone else in the pack, so he doesn’t feel that bad about it. The day that Jackson finds out he’s really a Hale– has to accept that Peter is his father and Derek, his cousin, is the one that gave him the bite (in a creepily, but also secretly kinda sexily intimate place)– he’s worse than ever, spiraling. There doesn’t seem to be any words to help and no one can get him to come down from the fear and anger and confusion that’s gripped him tight and stolen away whatever progress he might have been making to open up to them. Stiles finds him wailing away on a row of lockers after practice and since he knows there’s nothing he can say, he doesn’t even try to talk. He just takes Jackson’s wrists in his hands, his mouth with his teeth and tongue, and then bends over to let the other boy release all the pent up everything that’s threatening to overwhelm him. Jackson fucks him hard and relentless, his supernatural strength bruising Stiles like a peach, though that only makes him moan louder. The other kid’s cock is kind of small, to be honest, though it feels so damn good, Stiles still worships it after Jackson creams his pink, pretty hole, and sucks a second load out of him, even as he has to lick and kiss and suck at it while it’s soft for a good few minutes before he’s ready again. 

3. Stiles hasn’t even washed the spunk off of himself when he gets his second go around. Scott is at his house when he gets there and to say he wasn’t expecting it was a grand understatement. The other wolf scents the sex on him the second he walks into the room, but doesn’t quite connect the dots right away. He bullies Stiles up against the edge of his bed, sniffing and furrowing his brows, and trying to parcel it all out before he lifts Stiles’ shirt and sees all the fresh bruises on his hips and the angry blush of his nipples where Jackson had punished them during their fucking. Scott’s immediately taken aback and outraged, but he does something Stiles doesn’t expect and lays him down. His best friend just starts stripping them both and nestles between Stiles’ legs and murmurs that he’s going to make it all better, while taking his incredibly crooked cock in hand and ushering it into Stiles’ loose, wet hole to fuck him sweet and slow and face to face. Stiles just lays back and takes it, doesn’t ask any questions as Scott’s fuzzy balls bounce against his own and his friend makes out with him at the most lethargic pace– both of them mostly just breathing wet and hot into each other’s mouths and sucking tongues. Scott froths and creams two more loads into his wrecked hole, sucks a mark into Stiles’ neck and then promptly falls asleep. It’s cute until he starts farting and then Stiles wiggles out from under him and decides he could use a little fresh air and some space. 

4. He wanders out into the woods on pure instinct. Clear up until the past year he never had to think about the preserve. It was always just there– a part of his hometown– not the territory of a powerful beasts that ruled over it with a matriarchal dynasty. He’s out real deep, the sun starting to go down, by the time he hears branches snapping and finally thinks that this might have been a bad idea, only as he’s getting tackled. He almost starts to scream but then there’s the pleasant scratch of scruff on his soft, naked belly and a loud snuffling noise and suddenly there’s a very familiar, very hot face burrowing in the crotch of his jeans and scenting his sluttiness. Stiles’ whole body flushes along with his face as Derek is clearly driven crazy by the smell of other wolves’ cum coating his crotch, and he feels helpless to do anything but watch as the fit alpha takes out his long, uncut, hairy cock and just starts to drench his clothes in piss. He’s mortified for how hard it gets him, but Derek doesn’t seem to mind as he strips and starts rubbing his own body in the wetness, making loud chuffing noises as he reevaluates Stiles’ sent and starts to chub up. “You’re mine. I’m the alpha and I get to decide when and with who you mate.” Indignation flares in Stiles’ chest, but arousal does in his stomach as well, and before one or the other can win out, Derek is mounting him like an animal and he’s easily twice as big as the biggest cock Stiles took today. He’s glad he’s loose and sloppy from before because this isn’t making love like Scott did, or even fucking like Jackson. This is a raw, dirty, possessive dicking and he fucking writhes on the floor with how much he loves it. Derek knots him on the cold forest floor and fills him with enough jizz Stiles swears he can hear it slosh in his stomach. Clearly, he did not think a friendly, somewhat pitying lay through and they need to have a talk. 

5. He sits everyone down at an emergency pack meeting soon after and Scott is his usual self, Jackson is posturing just a little too much, and Derek can’t look him in the eye or hold still. Stiles doesn’t really blame him. It’s not every day you tackle a casual friend and recent crush into the ground, piss on him, and then fuck him silly without so much as a how do you do? He crosses his arms and stares them all down, just so he can milk this for all that it’s worth before he has to admit the truth to them all, which is thus: “That was so fucking sexy and made me feel so fucking good. Not just from a jizzing so much my balls ached standpoint, but also just like– and don’t laugh at me– but making me feel like a provider, like you all needed me. It was good, so good. I haven’t slept as well as I did last night in ages and I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t woken up wishing I had one of your cocks in my mouth because I still haven’t gotten to taste two of you.” And then Jackson chokes on his drink as Derek growls and Scott makes a fast like he’d never considered what cum might taste like before, let alone that someone might crave it. Things take a little bit to shake out and there’s plenty of pissy fights as well as actual flesh tearing ones to follow, but eventually things shake out. Derek more or less has sole ownership of his ass, based solely on the fact that he once tried to bite his own cousin for taking its virginity, but any time he’s away on extended pack business everyone else drills it like they’ll die if they don’t take the shot and Stiles gets filled with enough cum he actually sometimes worries about getting pregnant. Otherwise his lips were apparently made for cocksucking and that’s more than enough to satisfy everyone else. He never feels more loved than when he’s being stuffed wide enough to burst at both ends and can feel pubes tickling his nose. Who would have thunk that’s what it was that would make him finally feel like pack? 

Chapter Text

1. I’d like to imagine that Derek actually planned this all along. No one ever suspects anything dastardly of him because he was such a sweet little boy– quiet and soft with his pretty eyes and his lisp around his bucked teeth– but he’s starting to grow up now, and their perceptions aren’t changing fast enough. Everyone still sees that kid in footsie pajamas that sucks his thumb, and ya, maybe he’s only fourteen and he’s still relatively short and reedy as hell and his voice is still high and gentle, but he’s already got thick body hair, dropped balls, and oh ya, he’s hung. There’s not hardly any girth yet– that’s one thing that has to come with time– but he’s long enough that he knows if he neglects to wear underwear he can fall out of his own shorts when he sits down. 

2. And that’s the tactic he takes, because he’s long moved past the time of awkward wet dreams and being confused about why his dick is hard all the time. One of the older kids at school saw his boner in the locker room a few months back, went to snicker and tease, and then realized what Derek was packing. They’ve been fooling around ever since and he taught Derek all the filthy words for all the things he now finds himself craving. Most importantly though, he unconsciously taught Derek what lust looks like– how to tell that someone wantshim, and that’s been the biggest change.

3.Everyone wants Derek. He’d feel like a grade A douche for saying that, but it’s true. He can see it in the eyes of his peers, his teachers, random people he passes while in the grocery store after school. He’d never considered himself much of anything before, but once he learned how to read their heated eyes, chewed lips, short breaths, and tensed muscles, he understood that he was jailbait and they all wanted it bad. It made him a silent sort of cocky that no one saw coming and that got him everything he wanted because no one put up any resistance when they weren’t immediately off-put by a reckless swagger. He keeps pushing it further and further, seeing how far he can take it, and his latest conquest is going to be the riskiest one. 

4. Derek’s had an inkling that Peter’s affection wasn’t always the kind an uncle should have for his nephew since he was little and the older man would always stay longer than any other adult when he tucked Derek in. His hands would be firmer and linger, his gaze was always uncomfortably intense, and he always found reasons for them to be alone. It had been fairly innocuous until now– minus the fact that Peter had been kissing him on the mouth for as long as he could remember and when no one else was there with them, there was always just a little bit of tongue– but Derek is sure people in his family have had to find excuses to give for the little slips in his uncle’s behavior, because now that he knows what sexual attraction is, there’s no missing it. His uncle wants to fuck with him, bad. 

5. Derek waits for a day when there’s a family trip– one where the whole house is getting ready to spend a day at the beach– and feigns sick, doesn’t even have to give a performance because he’s never been known for lying, and in his innocent, sniffling little whimpers, he doesn’t even have to ask. Peter volunteers to stay behind and watch him, the perverted slut. He sits on the side of Derek’s bed, large hands ostensibly roaming all over his bared skin because he’s worried about a fever, even as he pushes up under Derek’s shirt and brushes his pinky fingers over Derek’s nipples. Derek pushes up into it as subtly as he can, makes soft, bewildered noises like he’s reacting through the fog of a headcold, and watches as Peter practically creams himself. The older man’s breath hitches and his pupils dilate and his fingers clench against Derek’s body as he fights not to fuckingmoan. 

6. Derek knows he has him right where he wants him and after a little more “foreplay” drops his bomb. “I feel funny,” he murmurs, pouty and confused and just the right amount of scared. Peter tuts at him and caresses his face, kisses him presumably for comfort even as he’s licking his baby nephew’s sightly parted lips, and Derek kitten licks back in the way he’s been doing since he was little and just imitated what was done to him without understanding. He writhes weakly beneath his sheets and fakes clumsiness when he pushes them down, skewing his pajamas so he’s showing his dusky tummy, hairy now, but still slightly rounded with baby fat, and the top of his small, but dark bush. Peter’s eyes laser in on it all and Derek gives another kiddish whine as he moves his hips restlessly, pretending he doesn’t know that he’s showing off the outline of his chubbed dick where it’s trying to pop out of his waistband. “Oh, sweet boy,” Peter coos at him, all sugar sweet predator ready to capitalize on what he thinks is naivete. His hands are hot and slightly sweaty with anticipation when they massage Derek’s belly this time and drift dangerously low on his slim boy hips, surreptitiously helping his pajama bottoms even lower to show off the v of his body and the sides of his ass. It’s downright molestation at this point and Derek’s brows furrow as that makes his cock wet, pre gathering to make his foreskin sticky and musky smelling with his pungent puberty. “Let me help you,” Peter says with all the saintly intonation he can muster, selling his tone fairly well, but looking all wolf with bared teeth and bright eyes. 

7. Derek bides his time, plays his role as the sweet, sensitive little boy that could be preyed on, that would nod his head even as his eyes teared up and promise to keep their little secret. He lets his uncle have this illusion of power, this predatory fantasy as he pulls Derek’s bottoms off to let his half hard dick bob free. The older man is speaking to him so careful and soft it’s just one step away from baby talk as he reassures Derek that this is natural, that it’s okay, and even valiantly offers to undress too and show Derek that it happens to everyone. And then they’re both naked, but Peter isn’t lethargicly turned on like Derek. He’s hard and dripping and so close to covering him in cum. His uncle is short, probably four inches or something like, but his cock is fucking thick as a barrel– nearly same girth as his wrists– and he knows that beer can cock would be a punishing fuck. Peter massages the inside of Derek’s thighs with greedy, possessive hands, chest heaving as he can’t help but continually bump and rub their dicks together, his own looking like it’s bullying Derek’s semi soft, boyishly thin length. He continues with his sympathetic shtick, going on about how most boys his age just use their hands, but there’s a better way, one that will make him feel so much more, and then he’s straddling Derek’s slender hips and taking hold of his nephew’s dick to wedge it in the meat of his asscheeks, enveloping it completely, clenching around it, sliding the foreskin back with wet, guppy noises to give himself slick to slide it around in. Peter has a fucking field day getting slutty with the boy he’s wanted so long, and Derek lets him so he can work up to his full hardness, chuckling to himself as his uncle is too gone on his own lust to realize Derek keeps getting longer and longer, that his knot is starting to swell, and that the boy he thought he was taking advantage of is now gripping his hips and rolling into him, starting to thrust. Peter’s head is thrown back and his free hand is playing rudely with his own nipples while the other continues to keep Derek’s dick trapped– entire length swallowed in Peter’s ass, but long enough that his cockhead is poking out and wetting the small of his arched back. His fat, stubby cock is drooling all over Derek’s soft belly with his excitement and the boy waits for just the right moment, watching for his uncle’s eyes to close, and then he pulls back, grips vice-like to hold him still, and bucks into that ass again. His cockhead hits Peter’s taint and then slides back with his forcefulness, moving until it catches on his rim and then slamming forward right past the unsuspecting ring of muscles to bury himself inside. Derek goes balls deep on his first thrust, knowing it had to burn and ache with the lack of preparation, and Peter cries out at his whole body tenses, but he’s the biggest slut in the world because it makes him come. Derek roughly fucks his clenched body as his uncle empties ten years of blue balls all over his slim body, and rams his knot in too, groaning as Peter clenches so tight it feels like he’ll pop that swollen bulb. Derek’s thighs shake as he empties his own load deep inside his uncle’s belly– much thinner and more watery, but just as copious– knowing he’s going to be coming for the next little while as his knot keeps them tied. Peter groans, pained, forehead scrunched in confusion as he tries to steady himself and lay back against Derek’s legs, ass convulsing over the overwhelming length of his nephew’s cock inside of him, rigid and pulsing. So he’ll be the one walking funny for the next few days, avoiding eye contact, making up excuses, and Derek will be the one to sneak into his bed at night, hold his hand over the older man’s mouth and whisper “our little secret,” as he gets his uncle addicted to his boy cock. 

Chapter Text

1. I’m sorry if y’all are tired of it by now, but I just can’t help myself and so you’re getting more Harem AU. :P Derek’s been breeding his harem deep and dutifully for some time now, their hormone flooding and cock cage treatment working beautifully, and it only took two breedings for Liam to get pregnant. Once his belly starts to show and Stiles can smell the shift in his scent, he knows he has to send the little omega down into Derek’s lair with the rest of them. He’s been looking after the young boy since he found him, has always kept him at arm’s length, but there’s nothing he can do about this. He was the one that came up with this plan and there can be no exceptions when he’s been so militant about his mate. Derek’s been down there, being used as a prized stud instead of their leader for months, and he’s not going to undermine all that hardship and work with his worry over Liam. 

2. Jackson and Isaac are assigned to take special care of him when Stiles leads him down. They’re some of the very first omegas that Derek ever took for himself and they’re just as dedicated to the longevity of their alpha and this harem as Stiles is. They love Derek, even as they’re mated to each other, and follow Stiles’ orders with a kind of devotion that can only be earned after years spent in service. The whole cavern reeks of sex and sweat and semen and they take him to the back where plush pillows and silken blankets have been set up to help all the omegas nest. Derek is sleeping at the center of it, starkly contrasted against the boys he’s bred that are curled around his sweaty, hairy body. They’re all soft with their pregnancy– big bellied with swollen, milky tits, quivering, always damp cunts prepping for the suddenness of labor– but he’s all hard muscle and ripe masculinity. His massive cock is locked away in a chastity device, making sure he doesn’t waste his energy and seed on boys who are already carrying, but his breeder balls hang loose and free, hairy and wafting the thick musk that dominates the room. It makes Liam wet and his little omega cock stand straight up, instincts on overdrive as ripe alpha invades his senses and he wants to breed instantly. Jackson and Isaac both snicker at the little whimper he can’t help but make and they pet at him gently, teasing that it’s going to be like this for the next few months. Derek is always aroused, always emanating that addicting scent of sex, and they’re not allowed to have him, only get to indulge in their alpha in breeding cases like Liam’s where they have to mitigate his lust. Liam tries his best to distract himself.

3.  Jackson is the most heavily pregnant of the three of them– the first to be successfully pupped– and he moves slow as he keeps one hand always supporting his swollen belly, ripe and heavy as a watermelon with his litter. Liam can’t help but stare with wide eyes, knowing he has to be carrying at least four pups, if not more, and hoping he wasn’t as well bred. Jackson should be ready to deliver any time now, and he looks it as he hisses while Isaac helps him sit back down, running his long, nimble fingers over his mate’s flushed skin and tutting at the angry, oversensitive color of Jackson’s sticky nipples. It only gets him a glare and some frustrated elbows in reply, but eventually Jackson gives in and slides over to his alpha, picking up Derek’s lolling head and rousing him from his exhausted slumber by rubbing his tit against the alpha’s slightly parted mouth. Derek’s eyes flutter open and he groggily latches on instinct, taking the offered nourishment to help sustain this forced, prolonged heat. Liam watches in fascination as he nurses, Jackson growling every time he’s not mindful of his teeth, and Isaac chuckling and keeping him from smacking the father of their pups, saying he’s going to have to learn patience because the kids will bite too. 

4. Isaac only looks as pregnant as Liam does– which means he just looks like he’s kind of let himself go and his belly is all beer and french fries– but he’s farther along. Liam figures his slender frame just wouldn’t be able to handle the amount of pups his stockier build could, and he must be carrying a fairly small litter. It’s a good thing because it allows him the comfort and mobility to care for all the other boys that are down here to try and help steep their alpha in hormones. He brings them wet cloths to try and soothe their fevered skin, makes sure everyone is drinking enough and comfortable, brings them to Derek when they need to be milked, and chaperons the very frequent trips out of the cavern and into the forest to try and relieve pressured bladders. He looks tired, but happy, much like their alpha, and Liam hopes he can be as good an omega as he is some day. He wants to be like all of them– Stiles, Jackson, and Isaac– strong and self confident and not just sitting idly by as scenery in this harem. He wants to contribute to their family and make a good environment for his pups and perhaps a future mate. 

5. He lasts until night keeping himself busy and distracting his frayed nerves with work, but once most of the other boys are asleep and there’s nothing else to do, he can’t help but focus on how he hasn’t been soft for longer than ten minutes since he got here, and this thick thighs make lewd noises every time he moves because they’re drenched in his own slick. Derek has been good and shown a remarkable amount of self control with his boys, but there’s no escaping the reek of his arousal and the musk of his body as he lazily makes out with his impregnated omegas in between his bouts of sleep, fingering their soppy cunts as they massage his swollen, sweaty balls to get him to produce more seed. Liam never took a turn, not as carefree with his lust as some of the others, but now he’s regretting it as they’re all fast asleep, sated by their alpha’s skill and hunger, and he’s left squirming and trying to resist the urge to grope his heavy chest and belly as he rides his own hands. It doesn’t take long for Jackson and Isaac to wake from the whimpers that blow past his clenched teeth, and the two sidle up next to him, their combined body heat sweltering as they seem to move in tandem on pure instinct. Isaac combs his long fingers through Liam’s hair to tug him up for a sloppy, sexy kiss, all tongue and sucking lips, and ruts his little, wet cock against Liam’s chubby hip. Jackson moves down to spread Liam’s thick thighs and hold his bubble butt open with both hands, blowing softly on his fevered, dripping cunt before diving in to suck and nibble and lick with lewd, hungry noises, His strong nose rubs insistently against Liam’s sweat-slick taint and makes him groan loud and low while Jackson swallows his slick like ambrosia. The prep only takes moments, but the maneuvering is labored and a little tricky as they all try to find positions that don’t weigh heavily on their rotund bellies, ending up with Liam on his back and Jackson and Isaac, curled around his hips, resting their pups on him as they each take a leg to pull apart, and tangle fingers as the mates hold him open to fit their stubby cocks in alongside each other. There’s enough girth between entwined digits and mashed shafts to give Liam the pleasure he needs, though it’s incomparable to their alpha’s knot, and he turns his head from side to side as he kisses them both, deep and heated, while the fuck him in a practiced rhythm, sliding their dicks against each other and fingering his prostate relentlessly as their fingers slip and dig. Liam’s own chubby dick squirts anemically against his soft belly and his eyes flutter as they two omegas lose themselves in taking their own pleasure too– licking and biting his furry pits, licking his lips as they kiss each other with their faces mashed against his, grinding their stomachs together and tangling jiggling thighs with their stuttered fucks. The three of them ride waves of orgasms for what might be an hour until they’re all drenched in sweat and slick and a little piss as their bodies couldn’t quite tell the difference in their prolonged release. Isaac and Jackson curl around him as Liam starts to fall into sleep, and for the first time since Stiles first started caring for him, he feels completely safe in this harem. They’re his family now. They’ll always care for him. 

Chapter Text

1. Uhm, y’all know that I love my boys hairy and I concur with you on this observation. Floppy haired Scott is my favorite Scott and for my smut I always like him best as that dopey, happy teenager. Like he’s one of those kids that didn’t have any puberty growing pains because he was just so happy go lucky, but because he didn’t have any of those insecurities, he also didn’t get any of the self awareness that went with it, and so he’s one of those teenage boys that everyone had to try and subtly remind to wash his feet and pits and balls because he never panicked about people noticing the crack in his voice, his surprise boners, or the stains in the crotch of his underwear and his sheets. He’s just clueless about his own pheromones and body and doesn’t even really understand the concept of shame as he does things like loudly tell Stiles he’s horny in the showers after lacrosse practice while he stands around, not soaping, but instead fondling his balls and twisting his erection, or sidling up to another guy at the urinal and staring at his dick, smiling and going “nice, man” as he gives a bro nod and bumps shoulders like they’re not both currently pissing. 

2. Everyone is pretty much low-key super turned on by his weird behavior and ripe body, but no one really knows how to approach it and are awkward teenagers and don’t get that Scott would totally, casually trade blowjobs under the bleachers just because coming is fun and everyone should get to do it all the time. He himself is actually pretty confused about why everyone isn’t just boning all the time. They’re all always horny and hard and looking at each other, why aren’t they just being open about it and having super sexy orgies in the locker room? Jackson is practically gagging after Stiles all the time and Stiles has had a wet dream about everyone in their grade. He’s seen caught them both masturbating in a bathroom stall and yet neither of them are fucking each other and they both yelled at him when he tried to touch their dicks. He doesn’t get it. 

3. So he’s low key frustrated and his skin is always itching with the need to get off by the time the whole werewolf thing happens and suddenly everything is turned up to eleven. If Scott thought he was horny before, it’s nothing compared to now. Suddenly he can hear all the boy’s hitched breathes and cut off little moans, and wet lip lickings. He can smell the second their dick starts to wet and if they’ve jacked off in the last twenty four hours and if they ate their cum or just let it steep in their boxers. He has so much energy all the time he just wants to be running and screaming and fucking all day and night, but they boys around him didn’t get the bite and so they’re still their same, awkward, bumbling selves. It’s enough to practically drive him up a wall, and he swears he’s this close to just tackling one of them and rubbing their face in his musky, hairy ass so they stop this hemming and hawing and get with the damn program and screw him. 

4. Derek seems to be the only one with the lights on upstairs because whenever he’s around them Scott can see the way he’s always shifting uncomfortably, how he tries his best not to scent the air because they’re all reeking of how bad they want it, and how his muscles tremble because he’s holding himself back the same way Scott is. Well, maybe not exactly the same way, because while he also looks like to wants to tackle them, he doesn’t look like he wants to rub his ass on them like Scott does. No, Scott can see the way his dick twitches in his pants (he can totally tell that Derek freeballs and it’s both sexy and like edgy-cool in that way Scott is still young enough to semi-hero-worship) and he can just tell that Derek would tackle them to hold them down and rub his hairy, musky crotch in their faces, to make them feel how full his heavy balls were and how hot his dick was, before he fucked it into them, from one end or another. It only serves to make him that much hornier as he imagines the thousand and one ways it could go down with a varying combination of all of them, and then his dick gets wetter and Derek sniffs harder and it’s a spiraling situation of them both getting severe blue balls and making wet spots in the front of their pants. 

5. Scott finally just can’t take it anymore and does the only thing he can think of. With Derek being the creeper that he is and always just showing up randomly in everybody’s rooms (which Scott has had many fantasies about– fantasies which he thinks Stiles and Jackson share if the way both their eyes bugged out when he mentioned it the other day) Scott just tosses off all his clothes every time he’s at home, wandering around with his hairy chub flopping around and dragging his balls all over everything. It’s only a matter of time until Derek pops in unexpectedly and is confronted head on with it. It only takes about a week and half and the way his eyes immediately flash blue and his teeth grow long, Scott knows there’s not gonna be any careful turning away from it this time. Derek is acting on pure, animal instinct, and Scott just smiles as he turns around, bends over his chair, and flashes his hairy, unwashed ass, knowing it’s soaked in his sweat and pheromones from the day. He’s been turned on for the last forever and he knows his hanging sack is soaked in pre and his foreskin is musky with that and his piss. He clenches his dusky hole to make it wink for the other wolf and then it’s all over, Derek is ripping open his own pants with sharp claws and them pulling Scott onto his dick by the hips, hunching back into an animal shape to fuck him with the same mindlessness and ruthlessness as a dog, jackrabbting just to get his knot tied and breed a bitch. It aches to be taken that fast and that rough, but in that way that Scott is loving because he’s been thirsting after this for so long. Derek’s fat sack is slamming and slapping against his own with lewd noises, and he’s growling as he holds Scott tight enough to bruise and rams his knot inside after only two or three pushes. Scott moans as he feels the hot cum gush inside of him, and drools his own, thick orgasm all over his bare feet. Finally. Fucking finally. 

Chapter Text

Okay, y’all don’t even know (or maybe you do because you follow this blog and it’s very easy to keep up with everything that I post) but I have feelings about enthusiastic bottom Derek. Like, the guy is strong and blunt and knows what he wants and what he wants is his big, furry ass played with, goddamnit. Why else would he wear those ridiculous jeans and find reasons to make his asscheeks literally bounce?! 

And Stiles is totally who his heart wants, but he’s still kind of afraid of that because so far following his heart has not lead to some very good things. He wants some D real bad, but is it worth getting all tangled up in another thing that could go remarkably south? Especially with a guy that’s kinda sorta becoming one of his best friends that he’s ever had? 

So let’s go on a journey here and say that Derek actually has the thirst for everyone and he thinks that’s all it is. As long as he just gets himself some regular, good dickings, then he can stave off what he’s feeling for Stiles. It’s a slutty, coward’s move, but he just needs more time to put it off, to try and figure out what he wants and if he did want, if he could actually have. 

At the very least he’s thankful Stiles is totally oblivious to it, because he’s sure whatever chances he might have would be totally obliterated if the guy knew Derek was sitting on every dick in the pack but his. It started with Scott just hanging around after a pack meeting, asking more about born-wolf pack dynamics and how to better bond everyone. Derek was listening and he was actually pretty invested in the conversation, about Scott actually wanting to do this right and maybe get his pack on solid ground for the first time. 

But he was also crazy horny. Stiles had sat next to him during the movie earlier, thigh to thigh, and kept turning his head to whisper quips to Derek, brushing his lips against the side of Derek’s face and ghosting his warm, wet breath inside his ear. It’s made him chubbed in his jeans for the last hour and Scott’s here, and an alpha, which totally gets Derek even hotter. He starts thinking about if Scott’s smaller body has a more compact strength, if his alpha power could hold him down and pound him good, if he’d bite at the back of Derek’s neck. 

Scott starts trailing off as soon as he smells the precum wet Derek’s dick and they just look at each other for a second before Derek strolls across the room, pushes Scott down onto the couch, and growls “take off your pants” as he’s already shucking his and then straddling the younger boy. Their shirts and shoes stay on, jeans tight on their calves as Derek rides him, supporting himself on Scott’s chest as the alpha holds his hips and just makes surprised, spluttering noises, squirming and grinning and whining as Derek milks his beautifully crooked cock, coming only after Scott has creamed him twice. 

Then he’d climbed off, pulled up his jeans, and given Scott a short, sharp nod and a murmured thanks before walking to his bedroom in a bit of a dismissal. They haven’t talked about it since, but it hasn’t seemed to trip up happy-go-lucky Scott for a second, so it was a worthwhile distraction. 

Frotting and fingering with Jackson was not quite as simple. It was more of his unresolved sexual tension and frustrated aggression coming out. He wanted to shove Stiles to his knees and sit on his face, see how perfectly that cute little upturned nose slotted into his furry crack. Instead when Jackson teased him about being out of touch with his emotions and a total dudebro, he shoved the fucker up against a wall and growled at him, baring his teeth. He didn’t count on Jackson whimpering, melting against him, and making the most pathetic humiliation lover’s expression as his cock got hard against Derek’s hip. 

But then it was all over from there. Derek got hard in response, Jackson started rolling his hips, and before he knew it, they both had their fingers rudely fucking into each other while they dry humped in each other’s pre cum, hard cocks rutting and sliding while their balls mashed together. Jackson kept trying to kiss him and Derek kept pulling away and telling him, “Harder, more!” It was clear they’re both hungry bottom bitches and the frustration of trying to get each other off without one shoving their cock in the other was almost more angry than stimulating. Almost. 

The struggle, the clawing, and the battle for orgasm made it that perfect kind of brutal. It was that bruising kind of fuck that you feel sore for days after, but it helped keep Derek focused. Every time Stiles would smirk at him, laughter shining in those amber eyes, Derek would feel the ache in his ass and remember that just hours ago he’d texted Jackson and made him leave a family fundraiser to buy them a double ended dildo to play with. 

They had to stop because Jackson wanted more and Derek was closing his eyes to try and imagine Stiles while they screwed and that was very obviously not a good thing. The kid was still kind of salty about it, but in that way that he was shitty to Stiles, but was still rubbing up against Derek like a damn cat in heat. 

So he moved on to someone he knew wasn’t emotionally ready for a relationship either. Isaac was also getting reacquainted with his body, also learning to be okay with what he wanted and other people wanting things of him. They understood each other in that way– how there was a thin line between good and bad bruises, good and bad ways to say certain words, good and bad ways to be challenged. It was easy being with him because there was no worry and no fronting and they didn’t have to pretend like they weren’t both a little fucked in the head about these things. 

Isaac had a real slender cock, like noticeably so. It took very little prep to get him inside, but the great thing was it made up for it in length. He could drive deep, use that slimness to get in fast and then just keep going and going. Derek fucking loved it. When he needed to be fucked it was never more than five minutes away, could be done with spit for lube if he was hard up enough not to mind the bit of burn, and he’d be sure to have his prostate bashed nice and rough. 

Stopping was easy between them, there wasn’t even a conversation. Just one day they both kind of knew that what they needed from each other had been fulfilled and it was nice. They smiled at each other, bumped shoulders, and exchanged one dry, long, soft kiss. 

And then Derek’s left with Stiles. Stiles who makes him smile even when he really doesn’t want to. Stiles who steals his breath away doing the most mundane shit. Stiles who leaves his scent strung around the loft like it’s no big deal, like Derek being able to smell his hair on the pillows, his sweat in the couch, hisaffection in the air all the goddamn time isn’t maddening. 

Derek can’t help the way he acts around him, like an excitable puppy, bounding around for attention. Maybe he could help all the unnecessary backflips, but Stiles always looks at him with those huge eyes, wide with awe and envy, he always laughs, and he always lets off deep whaffs of arousal. He makes Derek unconsciously flex around him, makes him forget proper personal space, and worst of all, makes him present. 

All the boys and even the girls try not to let him catch them snickering as he snaps his spine straight back, ears fiercely red as he realizes he had his ass jutted out again. He does that all the time now, wears low rise jeans and no underwear. He shifts his weight from foot to foot, making his asscheeks jiggle and bounce as they reposition, settling with one higher than the other. He lounges against things, leans across long spaces, picks shit up off the floor, and does so many damn squats his thighs have started to really stretch his pants. 

It’s ridiculous and embarrassing and makes him so damn hot for it that he buys a vibrator just to try and stave it off. But then Stiles is at the sex shop. Stiles is oblivious to him for a second as Derek is trying to rush the cashier who can’t quite figure out the register while also being unable to keep his hands away from scratching his balls for more than thirty seconds. 

And then the boy sees him, a gleeful, wicked smile on his face as he comes over. Derek wants to die right then and there. Stiles sees what he’s buying, and that teasing expression smolders into something so heated Derek’s nuts pulse. There’s not even words as the toy is abandoned and he’s dragged to the bathroom, the lock thrown, the glory holes ignored as Stiles shoves him up onto a sink, spreads his legs, and yanks down his jeans. 

Derek just moans and nods and reaches down to part his cheeks for him, flash his hole and even make it unfurl for Stiles. His stomach is quivering and they haven’t even started and Stiles is getting on his knees to eat him out and he didn’t even ask for it, didn’t push on his head or straddle his face. Derek’s trying his best to simultaneously grasp onto the mirrored medicine cabinet with condoms, lube, and wipes inside without tearing it off the goddamn wall because Stiles is making the lewdest goddamn noises as he fucking makes out with Derek’s asshole. He sucking and licking and nibbling and just straight up kissing the dusky, wrinkled skin, burrowing his face so deep his nose is smashing right behind Derek’s balls and his face is getting swallowed by the ample meat of his cheeks. 

Derek is fucking seeing God with the way that boy’s tongue moves– all finesse even as his hunger is sloppy-wrecked– moaning and writhing just as much as Derek like he can’t fucking get enough. It’s fucking amazing, but Derek also wants dick and he wants it now, so he does tug on Stiles’ hair, makes him stand up, and with too many pauses to gulp in breath says, “Get… inside me… now.” 

And Stiles stutters for a moment, hesitates for the first time, and Derek can’t fathom why. Every dude ever will stick their dick anywhere you let them. He already did the part that usually takes some bartering. He was just suffocating in Derek’s ass, why is he waiting to flip it out and get balls deep? 

But then he just goes for it, drops his pants and fluorescent briefs, and he’s hard as nails, a legitimately pretty pink. He’s the picture perfect dichotomy that you only get in dicks where he looks hard enough to snap, but so incredibly soft. His balls are full and peachy, his bush thick and dark. And he’s about three inches, three and a half maybe. 

Derek would never call himself a size queen, but he does want to be fucked kind of like an animal and so he doesn’t really know how to react. But then Stiles is stepping back into him, rubbing that stub between his cheeks, teasing his hole and letting Derek feel the pre running down his short shaft. He’s pressing their bodies together, nipping at Derek’s lips, licking into his mouth. He’s groping Derek’s pecs, petting his flanks, and massaging his balls while Derek is holding himself open, begging for it. 

Then they’re fucking and holy goddamn shit does Stiles know what he’s doing. The kid doesn’t just jackrabbit inside of him, using Derek like a living fleshlight. He’s got moves. The rhythms his hips make are fucking transfixing. Derek doesn’t miss a goddamn inch. Derek comes so hard he gives himself a facial. 

Derek loves that little dick and he loves the boy that it’s attached to. The pack is relieved for half a second before they start making out in public and find out just how handsy Stiles can get.

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Peter’s sexuality has always been… unique. He thrived off of someone else’s discomfort, on pushing them to their limits and on making them question whether they wanted to be enjoying this as much as they clearly were. It started small, kissing straight boys and getting them to give into the hormones and frot cocks with him. He often times snap out his hand to smear precum on their lips and watch their eyes widen in horror as they lick it off in reflex, moaning at it even as they want to not enjoy it. He liked to bring boyfriends home on long weekends or invite them on family trips and then fuck them as loud as possible with his parents and siblings, uncles and nieces all close by. He has a short but incredibly fat dick that he loved fucking married men with, making sure their wives couldn’t see them naked for the next couple day’s or else it would draw concern. He loved having sex in public places, being risky with it, and watching as his partners couldn’t help but want him even more for dogging them. 

The depravity ramps up when Derek’s balls drop and Peter knows he wants him, sees the boy that’s a little less than half his age, and his own family, and thinks to himself all the adventurous, filthy ways he could corrupt him. He listened in on Derek when he started to masturbate, stole his stained cum rags to sniff and suck and jerk himself off into. He finds reasons to be places Derek is undressed and never backs down from the boy, always pushing into his personal space, never looking away when he should, touching him too long, too low, too much. 

He doesn’t know whether Derek just so happened to share his same perversion, or if his influence changed the boy, but he finds himself oddly unsurprised when his nephew is presenting every time he fucks– lifting his ass high in the air and showing off his hairy hole while he pounds away. It’s like a damn beacon to him, all he can pay attention to even with Stiles being quite the screamer every time the two of them go at it, and he wants. 

He’s rewarded by Derek calling out to him, begging for him when he pops his knot and starts to convulse and jerk inside of his mate. Even if he loses the game forever, it’s too much for Peter to enjoy passively anymore and he walks out to brutally fuck his nephew open with little prep, enjoying the way Stiles yelps and squirms, but can’t get out of his tie. Derek is just blissful and whited out as he continues to come, milking Peter’s own knot that’s staring to form, and he enjoys the kid’s tight ass as he sneers down at his boyfriend, loving his red face, wriggling body, and bitten off moans and Derek fills him up and stretches him wide. 

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1. The Hales would probably be a really well respected name in the small town, having been there for generations and having always been in that sort of business. Midwives and country doctors, city council members and school administrators too. Like, they’re everywhere, they’re the old timey founders of this place and they’ve continued to have a huge community presence. So it’s no surprise that when it comes to abo affairs, they’re the ones that everyone goes to with their questions. They’ve had every presentation in their family and have kept them healthy, safe, and successful. The whole town looks up to them and really values them as role models and leaders. 

2. Derek’s parents probably wanted him to go on and be a surgeon like his mother, but instead he goes to school to specialize in heat practices. And that field these days is like psychology when it first came out– experimental, often looked down upon, not thought to be real medicine. But he’s passionate about helping young boys through their presentation, alpha, beta, or omega, and he doesn’t care what his family thinks. Of course it’s all very sordid when he comes back into town and opens his own little practice. How obscene for a man of his age to be asking parents to bring their pubescent children to him to pleasure with both his body and various tools and toys. 

3. Thing is, it totally is working. Those few who first tried it out, who were forward thinking or had tried and hated suppressants as a means to helping their kids, brought them to him, and he helped! Every boy that went to him raved about the experience. They came back with a healthy glow and a newfound confidence in themselves and what they wanted. They didn’t struggle after their first visit with him, taking their future heats in stride whether they found partners, went back to his clinic, or even some managed them on their own with suggestions of toys and products that he gave them. Slowly word of mouth traveled around and though he never got booming business, he got enough to stay open and live comfortably, with very dedicated and loyal patients. 

4. His uncle Peter was actually one of his first clients and is now his head assistant, like a nurse. The man presented omega and had severe presentation personality issues brought on by the way his parents dealt with it. They humiliated him about it, said he had to become a complacent housewife and control himself and his grotesque urges. He always thought he wanted to be an alpha to make them happy, to be a real man, and he got into drugs and anonymous sex and totally pushed away his highschool sweetheart that loved him very much. Derek came back to town, took him in when the rest of his family turned him away, having dealt with too much of his addiction and the chaos it caused, and counseled his uncle through therapeutic heat sessions. Eventually Peter got himself sober and Derek showed him how he could be whatever he wanted to be and still be an omega, still love his body and the pleasure it gave him. And somehow Peter reunited with Chris many years later. Both with kids now and a little grey in their hair, but still the same boys deep down and they’re totally dating and Derek thinks it’s adorable and shyly dismisses when they say he’s the reason they got this second chance. 

5. (Haha, oops. I guess I should do some actual porny things now instead of just blathering about world building at you, huh?) Derek’s always been calm and sweet and professional, never showing those alpha stereotypes of lewd brutishness, possessiveness, and aggression. Sometimes his patients have latched onto him, but he’s always collected and careful and helps them through their fixation into healthier relationships. It’s never been a problem. Until Stiles walks into his clinic. The sheriff’s son. John was very reluctant to bring him here, but nothing else has been able to assuage the crippling heats his boy suffers and he just wants Stiles to feel better. Derek takes the boy in with a very serious nod and promises to help. He tries his best to keep it together, but Stiles is the sweetest omega he’s ever encountered. Not like swooning and beauteous, but he just calls to Derek. His slick smells of rice steeped in sugary cream and cardamom, his body slots so perfectly to Derek’s and when they knot, they stay tied for longer than Derek has in his life, moaning and cooing as he pets Stiles’ flanks, supports his shaking thighs, and seeds him deep and long. The boy kisses him with pure abandon, traps him in those intense amber eyes, and catches him with that sweet cunt, never letting him go for long. Derek spends days sleeping at the clinic, staying with him. He kind of loses track of time, just alternates cycles of sleep, fuck, eat, sleep, fuck, eat. He doesn’t even realize that they’re nesting, that they’ve made this corner of sheets soaked in their sweat and slick and semen. That he’s been mating this boy instead of just coaching him through this. He totally gets Stiles pregnant, and the seven years difference in their age is kind of pronounced when the boy is only sixteen. But he seems so sleepily content, so pleased with it, and it totally raises lots of eyebrows in the community when Dr. Hale drops off his baby mama at high school, smiling and giving him wet, hungry kisses, baby bump between them, telling him to walk to the clinic after class and they’ll get some dinner when he’s done with their clients. But they’re obviously happy and things continue on as they were before. Derek doesn’t mate any of his other patients, Peter and Chris get married, and Stiles has a baby boy the summer between his junior and senior year. 

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Haha, I’ll never be able to forget! Know that out of both my pseuds and everything that I’ve written over the past five years of my fanfiction career, my most popular fic, by a landslide, is Stiles fooling around with wolf!Derek. That’s right y’all. Hundreds of thousands of words and my beastiality fic is what I’m known for. :P This is my legacy. 

But ANYWAY. I’m actually thrilled so many people liked it because I’m always nervous about when I dip into a new kink that I haven’t written before and I wasn’t sure that I was gonna make something that anyone liked. So thanks! 

I don’t know that I have a sequel planned, but I could tell you my ideas for one. 

It would totally be all about Derek getting reacquainted with himself. He’s a man loves sex, always has been. He was a horny teenager from the second his balls dropped, but not in that nervous, buggy way. He was just confident with his body and in touch with his instincts because of his wolf. He luxuriated in this primal thing, in pleasuring people and being pleasured. It was so nice to just be able to make someone lose their minds with that raw joy, to give it and to earn it in turn. Sex positive Derek for life.

But then Kate happened and Jennifer happened and Scott using him to turn Gerard happened. His body was a weapon. It was hurting people he loved and being used and he hated it. He hated how much he wanted to fuck, how much he needed it even after all the trauma it had put him through. Suddenly he felt brutish and disgusting and he was so out of tune with himself and his wolf. He thought he’d never get to enjoy this again, that he’d always be twisted and sick with his own want. 

And Stiles happened. He could have never seen it coming, but this boy just slammed right into his life and loved him. Even when they were mean with each other and physical with each other, it was never toxic like all that other shit. It was good and free of cruel intention. There was trust there. And that was something Derek hadn’t felt for a very long time. Not with himself and certainly not with anyone else. 

So when things finally tip, and Stiles gets intimate with him– not just him, but his wolf in its purest form– he starts to heal, and it’s amazing to feel and to witness. And Stiles loves being able to give that to him. He loves watching Derek come out of his shell and bloom again into this confident, sexy, kinky man that loves showing his affection through sex. The man is all over him, wanting it at least twice a day, anywhere, anytime. 

Stiles loves it, how virile Derek is. He’s always got this sly smirk on his face now, like he knows Stiles wants him every goddamn moment, and he knows the kid will take him in any and every way. And it’s just good. It’s this carefree, joyous lust between them, this celebration of their connection. They try everything. 

Stiles fucks Derek, Derek fucks him. Wolf, man, a little of both with his beta shift. They try handcuffs and collars, vibrators and cock rings, lace panties and leather boots. Stiles loves the the dom/sub space and Derek loves letting his animal side through. Aftercare is their blissful medium, where they both get their favorite thing at the same time. In the sweaty, sticky time after, Derek smothers Stiles in him, buries him in warm, soft comfort, snuffling at his throat, licking and loving. Stiles clings tight to him, holding him close, whispering praise and love and encouragement, and Derek wags his damn tail and pisses his mate to claim him. 

The pack eventually finds out, because it’s hard to hide their adventurous, voracious appetite, but by then they’re ready for it. They’re ready to say boyfriend and love and our house. And it’s good. 

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Y’all just get me, you really do. You hear me when every other sentence I say that Derek has hairy, swollen low hangers, and you bring me this beautiful photo that is exactly what I’m talking about. That boy would tremble and whine, making those overlarge nuts swing as he spreads his thick thighs to try and show off the slick shine of his dusky hole. 

His omega lube would be running down them, gathering in the folds and dripping off the heavy round of them as his heavy musk permeates the room. He’d totally have been the only omega and the only later bloomer in the whole Hale family. Presenting at seventeen, it took him so long to find his place and by the time he did, all his other classmates had already paired up for heat. 

His brother though– Scott has shown by surprise, too early for their family to anticipate. A rambunctious, reedy fourteen year old, it’s almost adorable when he shows as alpha. The whole family is amused by thick, hairy, bulky Derek being the one to get milky tits and whine about how hungry his hole is, while Scott gets a third leg so out of proportion between his legs it looks like it’s going to tip him over. 

No one is home when Derek’s heat hits, and he doesn’t have any presence of mind past the fog of lust to do anything but stumble out of his bottoms and wander over to his younger brother’s bedroom, smelling the ripe alpha boy from across the hall. Scott’s playing computer games and scratching his balls when Derek just walks in, cock drooling precum, ass wet and pulsing around the need to be filled, and he just watches in awe as the older boy turns around, juts it out, spreads his thick cheeks, and whines. 

Scott’s tenting his basketball shorts in a second and he doesn’t give it a second thought to trip over himself getting over to Derek, shushing his brother as he runs shaking hands up and down his flanks before getting to his knees and burrowing his face in that musky, dripping ass. He moans as his floppy hair mats to his forehead and he breathes in his brother’s fertility from up close. 

His instincts tell him this is a ripe bitch to be bred, no matter the incest, and he only munches on the offered, fevered hole for a minute or two before he’s fishing his long, slender alpha cock out of the leg of his shorts, pushing them aside to let the crooked length spring free. Derek’s ass squirts as Scott’s own musk fills the room, leaking from his foreskin, and he has to get up on his tip toes, wiggling his slim boy hips as he slides right in. 

He barks and yips and clenches his little ass as he jackrabbit fucks his older brother, doggedly hammering into him with all his canine carelessness, peach fuzz balls slapping against Derek’s meatier ones. Derek groans back, laying on his chest against the door as he reaches underneath himself to grope his balls and try and slide a finger in alongside Scott’s cock. Because while he may have grown long enough to be a proper alpha and be able to seed deep enough to breed, the thickness will only come with age, and Derek’s hole is too loose to feel a good stretch from him. 

Scott’s knot only takes the smallest of punches to push in, and then he’s panting and bouncing as his thin boy cum gushes into Derek, the overflow spilling around their balls and soaking his bush. He continues to grind and jerk, getting oversensitive the longer he stays in, wriggling as he tries to stay up on his toes since he can’t untie yet. 

Derek finally follows him over the edge when the young boy gets too excited and howls as his older brother clenches around him, trying to milk his knot. The sensation is too much and he floods Derek’s ass with piss as well. It’s enough to make Derek’s omega cunt swell shut around him, keeping them together for at least a half hour more as he sprays his own seed on the door in front of them and sighs, finally happy and sated. 

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I don’t really write either of them much, but I always love the idea of their dynamics and that they totally hate fucked when they were younger, didn’t see each other for a long time, and then when they come back together, still have that electric chemistry that makes them want to do dangerous, dirty things together. 

But come with me, if you will, on a journey to a human AU and a gay porn trope that I adore, bathhouse/gym sex. Imagine being a vain, wealthy playboy of a man that’s just starting to figure out he’s much too old to be someone’s boy toy anymore and if he wants to continue on with the lifestyle he’s been living, he might have to be the sugar daddy. Then Chris, a repressed suburb daddy that’s just recently divorced and getting back in touch with his sexuality again, figuring out that maybe he’s not actually as vanilla as he thought and having a sudden amount of freedom and free time to explore that what with his daughter off in college and no spouse to retire with. 

They meet at the gym because Chris needs the routine, needs the familiarity, needs something to take up time in his now overlong days, and needs to make sure he doesn’t let himself go in this tumultuous chaos of rediscovery that often has some manic highs and really low lows. Peter is there because he’s been noticing he can’t just eat whatever he wants anymore, that it takes more effort to keep things firm, and still, and because he still can’t let go of his gym bunny ways, wearing shorts too short for a man of his age and acting like a flirty twink. 

It’s honestly embarrassing. 

At least for 99.9% of the people there. For Chris it’s something new and something amazing and it gets his heart racing his face aflush as he can’t help but stair from across the building. He’s never seen a man like that before. There were plenty of other dads in his cul-de-sac that wore workout gear– track pants and cut off sweat and tank tops– but none of them were showing off their jockstrap straps beneath it, their pebbled nipples, or sometimes a freeballing cock. And they usually just sat around and gabbed on their crossfit, wearing a towel over their shoulder for show instead of using an elliptical with the grace of a gazelle and then moving over to a bench to do curls and show off their entire inner thigh. 

He can’t stop watching, even in the locker rooms and the showers, and Peter doesn’t seem to mind being on display, smirking every time he catches Chris out gawking, giving his ass and thighs a little extra jiggle as he hooks his fingers through his belt loops and heaves his too tight jeans over his jockstrap. He even starts syncing their schedules a little closer, comes over near Chris to take the locker next to him so they can stare at each other while they change, not commenting on the other’s very evident chub slapping against their thighs as they waddle to the showers. 

There’s no way Chris would make the first move, even as he’s bold enough to always be watching, and to show himself off a little too, so Peter takes it into his own hands. It happens on one of those fluke nights that Chris can’t sleep and so he hops on over to his 24 hour gym to try and exhaust himself on the machines. But once he gets there, the fluorescent lights and disinfectant smell on the benches suddenly seem like too much, and so he just meanders back into the steam room, towel slung low enough around his waist to show off his salt and pepper pubes. It’s more lax than he usually is, but there’s not hardly anyone around and so he doesn’t give it much thought. 

When he opens the door and steps through though, there Peter is, lounging back against he wood, legs spread, head laid back, chest bared and glistening with his sweat. His arms are raised to lay back on, and Chris can’t help but lick his lips at the delicious looking curl of his armpit hair, wet with the steam and sweat, and he ogles a little as Peter doesn’t register his presence at first. 

But when he does, he smirks, not changing his posturing at all, only barely lifting his head to watch Chris through hooded eyes. Chris rubs his knuckles up and down his own sternum, gazing back with those intense blue irises, only breaking to steal glances behind him, expecting someone else to walk through. But after a thick, tense minute, there’s not even the sound of someone passing on their way to the lockers, and Peter chuckles as he circles his hips and slides his ass just enough to make his towel fall open, letting Chris see the soft, tacky heft of his cock where it’s stuck to his inner thigh with sweat. His ballsac is loose and low from the steam, pooling against the bench, and Peter chews his lip as Chris watches the short, but immensely thick cock plump up and start to wet at the slit. 

He himself hesitates for only a second before he pulls at the loose knot on his waist and lets his tented towel fall around his ankles. Peter’s eyes light up and dance as Chris shifts his weight from foot to foot, letting him take in his sleek, long cock, trim, firm body, and the glistening liquids dripping from him. Chris stalks over, letting all his pent up everything consume him in this moment, and he straddles the lounging stranger in front of him. They’ve barely exchanged a hundred words, nothing more personal than favorite routines or how their day had been going, but he doesn’t hesitate to mash their sticky, hot cocks together, trapping them between their slick stomachs, and rolling his hips to make them bump and grind. 

He groans as he rubs his beard all up and down that exposed throat, making Peter’s thighs twitch in excitement, and then switches to a growl as he attacks an armpit, snuffling and licking and then coming back up to force a rough, salty kiss. Peter bites and sucks back, rushed and clumsy and violent as he grabs and gropes at Chris’ ass, pulling the meat apart to brush his finger against a tight, humid hole. 

The frot and hump, grapple and slide, fucking against each other like animals as the steam threatens to overheat them, cooking their brains in their own lust as they feed off each other’s musk, slapping their balls together, clacking teeth, and slamming hips. Their chests and stomachs stick, cocks flexing and spitting between them, and their thighs lock together as they screw, using the other to race towards a violent orgasm. 

Chris isn’t sure which one of them shoots first, but the thick, sticky seed spurs the other on, and they make a mess of each other, matting it in their body hair, grinding until their cocks are completely soft, wedged in the crease of each other’s thighs. They lock eyes and laugh as they try and catch their breathe, still on top of each other, sliding and sticking skin. 

“Same time next Thursday?” Chris asks, flexing his shoulders and popping his back as he stands, suddenly feeling a spring in his step. Peter bares his teeth and slaps his ass before he gets too far, reply enough in this space. 

Chapter Text

Derek had felt out of touch with his own body for a long time. He’d never been self conscious as a boy, never understood all the angst that his friends and classmates went through when puberty hit, but he was a born wolf. Ever since he was little we was encouraged to be ‘natural’, to foster his wild side. Being wolves by blood, they all had their full shift, and on full moons, after spending the night running with each other, they would all come home and shift back into their human bodies, naked as the day they were born and just as unashamed. 

Derek, in fact, loved his own body. He knew he was attractive, knew his genes gave him a propensity for a muscular build that was unusual in his age and a preternatural grace. It was easy to be in touch with himself as he’d been training to trust his instincts and use his senses. He was so in sync between his physical and mental self, that at the first sign of doubt, the first crack in that synergy, it shattered. 

Kate betrayed him. His instincts, his body betrayed him. And not just in a little way that he could pick up, dust off, and move on from. It destroyed everything he thought he knew and everything he thought that he was. For a while he hated his body, and then he felt nothing for it. It was just a vessel for him to take care of. He exercised, he ate well, and he groomed himself based on what everyone else wanted, what he could see as a hunger in their eyes, because it gave him an advantage that he knew he needed. That same weakness that had brought him low, he knew he could manipulate in others, and so he did, for the good of his survival, and somewhat, still to punish the boy inside. 

He didn’t just stay lean, he bulked up. He made sure his shirts strained around the bulge of his arms and clung to the rungs of his abs. He wore jeans that molded around the strength of his thighs and the jut of his ass. He kept everything clean and smooth, devoid of any personal characteristics. He made himself a flawless model that everyone could project their fantasies onto as he smiled at them with his immaculate, white teeth, but not his cool, jade colored eyes. 

His body was a tool, a weapon, used in every different kind of fight, used in any way he needed it, and he thought he was okay with that, but then everything changed. When the alpha power flowed through him, the birth right that had flowed through generations of his blood, that attunement he’d felt before, that connection to his life and his land, took root inside of him again. He was a wolf and this was his territory. His life was in service to his pack and nothing else. 

Derek no longer had time for those empty gestures and tricks. There was no room for posturing that played on falsehoods. His body made sure that his status was made clear to everyone around him, that one look was all it took to conveystrong alpha wolf. 

The hair on his body grew back, thick and dark into a pelt. On his arms and under them, across his chest to burst out the collar of his shirt, covering his legs, in and around his ass, framing his cock and covering his balls. Wolf. 

Where he’d been mostly average in his body building musculature before, he grew stocky and nearly square with the bulk. His back rippled, his waist cut sharp into a v, his pecs bulged inches out past his abs, and his thighs grew too thick for his jeans. Strong. 

He hadn’t been interested in sex for a long time, not truly. He knew how to use it to get what he wanted, but suddenly he was hit with the urge to claim and to breed, to mark what was his and have everybody know. A heady, ripe musk emanated from his body, his balls swelled and hung heavy, his cock thicker, and now with a small bulb at it’s base, filling to a hard knot twice the girth of his shaft when he got hard. Alpha. 

He was still nervous to take this step back into himself again, to feel at one with his physicality and make it a part of who he was and what he wanted, but there wasn’t a question of whether or not to anymore. It was simply when and with who. 

It came down to Isaac, his beta, and a boy he could feel the same disconnect echoing inside of. They were both shy of it, each other and themselves, at first, circling around each other, brushing sides, nuzzling noses, scenting with deep, husky whuffs and hooded eyes, drifting in and around each other’s orbits, trying to be careful with succumbing to this gravity. 

Derek’s strong, firm hands drifted over Isaac’s lithe, pale body, running up his arms, across his chest, against his belly and behind his thighs. He lifted the boy, hefted him onto the bed, rubbed his beard across all the delicate, bared skin, making flush and sensitive for him. Isaac’s curls bounced as he squirmed in response, gasping softly and unable to keep himself from spreading his soft thighs and small, malleable ass. 

Derek growled low and deep and he kneaded the soft flesh, marveling at the way it moved when it wasn’t held firm with muscle like his own. He flipped the boy over, put him on his belly, and then swept over the back of him, gliding his own chest from his calves all the way on up to smother against shoulders. He wrapped his arms around the shallower chest beneath him and held Isaac tight to his body, let him feel his alpha’s power and know that he was safe and being care for. 

He nipped at the shell of Isaac’s ears, rubbing his nose along the point of them as the boy couldn’t rein in his shift. The extra sizzle of electricity coming from their consummation of pack dynamics made his muscles taut and his skin buzz, a thin sheen of sweat working over him as Derek guided the boy to nuzzle and lick in the fur of his underarm, holding him to it as he rubbed his thick alpha cock in the crack of his ass, teasing the girth against his tight hole and letting him feel the virility. 

Derek was going to take care of him. Derek would build him a home and a family and them safe, make him content. He could provide in every way and he would bring this beta to bliss, finding his own fulfillment in the deed. They fucked slow, but hard, gritting teeth, biting flesh, slamming hips, wrenching fingers, locking legs, and bodying with their chests. 

Derek gave and took, letting the boy find his own measure of control in hitching his big, powerful alpha’s hips up high to show off his fat, hairy ass, slapping the muscular rounds of them to watch them shake and still, then sucking, licking, and fingering it until Derek begged for release. 

They tasted and traded seed, licking it from each other’s tongues, smelling it on each other’s stomachs, feeling it hot and deep in their holes. Derek bred his beta boy with his knot locked up tight in that once virgin ass, tying them together as he emptied his swollen nuts deep inside, flooding him with virile semen and keeping it locked up high. 

It goes until they can’t get hard anymore, and then Derek wraps Isaac up in his arms, lets him rest his head on the heave of his chest, and tells him to sleep, because they’re finally at home. 

Chapter Text

Ah! Well maybe I’ll click through the tags to see if I can catch a peek, cuz y’all know I’m all about soft dicks. They’re somehow both adorable and super sexy. :P But anyway! 

Can I do an AU of my own AU? That sounds so self indulgent, but hear me out. Harem AU, but Derek’s just the only ripe, fertile alpha in a really small town. No one his age presents when he does though and for a long time he has to be sent away to deal with his ruts because there’s no one there to help him through it. He thinks he might honestly be cursed or something because even years after, no omegas present in his territory and mating season after mating season he’s left alone, quaking and sweating and wracked with deep set aches. 

He’s resigned himself to being alone by college age, becoming a bit of a hermit and a crotchety twenty something, and just like that– the moment he stopped looking– a whole little harem of boys crop up in his old high school. Four sweet, little, fecund omegas come mewling to his family home, dribbling slick and begging to see the local alpha. 

Derek gets the call from his mother, living in the dorms now, and is only told that there’s something urgent, that he has to get back to the house as soon as he can. He thinks that maybe there’s a rival alpha trying to invade his weak territory, but that doesn’t make sense because it’s so small and there’s literally nothing to take. 

He senses them the second he steps out of his car and onto the dirt pathway. He can’t tell exactly what’s going on from the get-go, but he knows there’s a scent in the air that he’s never come across before, and his whole body is suddenly flushing. He shifts uncomfortably as his alpha cock starts to fill, not tenting his shorts but instead giving him an insane, fist sized bulge showing off his virility. 

He’s confused and honestly a little afraid, but finds himself compelled to move forward, unable to stop scenting, to keep a low rumble from starting in his chest, or to act decent as he palms that lewd heft of his cock and balls, his hand coming away with the musk of them as he’s already starting to leak pre. He can’t hear any of his family members inside, and he goes slow as he walks in, hesitating at the door. 

There’s the thunder of bare feet on the hardwood and a chorus of elated laughs and then suddenly he’s being swarmed and he can’t even process what’s happening as four teenage boys barrel into him, already naked and with a thin sheen of sweat on their bodies. They’re breathing thin and quick, eyes dilated, and Derek feels his ears turn bright red as his gaze is drawn to the little, chubby cocks that bounce between their jiggling thighs, too small for what boys should have their age, especially erect as they are. 

Omegas. 

They take his backpack from his hands, rove their own all over his body– groping at his chest, smoothing over his abs, squeezing his ass, threading through his hair, and then palming at the grapefruit sized mound of his bulge. Derek’s mouth hangs open and his body flushes and he can’t help himself as he groans and rolls his hips forward, showing it off to them, letting them see and know their alpha. 

His instincts have completely kicked in as he flexes, growls, spreads his thighs. He models for them, feeling immense pride and fulfillment as their eyes get wide and they chew their lips and he can smell them get even wetter. He is the alpha. He is their alpha, and he wants them to understand everything that comes with that, everything it means, everything that he is. He wants them to know how strong he is, how fertile. He will give them the best home, make them happy and safe and contented. 

They lift his arms as he flexes them, nose at his armpits, kiss and lick. One starts to nibble at his collar bone, not daring enough to go for his neck, but eyes still upturned and intense as he sucks. Derek grins at them as they continue to squirm and coo at him, rubbing their little cocklets against his body and arching their backs to show off their meaty, sticky asses for him, putting on their own show. 

He chuckles as he wets himself to mark them and leave his claim, and their eyelids flutter at the unmistakable musk. They start to tear at his clothes and make desperate, needy noises. They hang off of him as he practically carries them all to his bed, and then he lays in the center of their throng as they kiss and suck and rub and squeeze and pleasure him more than he could have ever imagined. 

He ravages their pouty mouths until they’re all swollen from his bites and kisses. He rubs his beard against their thighs and bellies until they’re a pretty, itchy pink, and as they wrap their legs around him to rub off against their skin, he uses his thick, blunt fingers to fuck their soppy holes rude and relentless, making them cry and squirt as he scissors them open and then plunges inside to punish their prostates. 

He lets them all tussle and establish their own pecking order as they make him come, emptying his breeder balls all over his body and fighting to lick up the musk of his seed. He laughs softly and pets their hair as they give each other little growls reminiscent of his own, box each other out, and even nip to get the chance to clean under his foreskin or lay their tired heads on the inside of his thigh, to burrow deeper into his groin as they rest. 

He’ll get to know their names in the morning, find out their interests and likes. He’ll make them all a big meal and drive them to school, and make sure he’s back from the college by the time they’re done. He’ll have to be building his house out on the property now, moving in with his boys and taking one as a mate. It took so, so long, but it was so worth the wait. 

Chapter Text

Psh, not weird at all, my friend! That kind of thing is what this whole blog is about. ^^ 

I love the idea of everyone always believing Stiles is this super awkward virgin– that stereotype of the oversexed geek that’s always talking about it because he isn’t getting any and is actually super nervous about it– but that’s so not the case. Stiles is always going off about sex and dicks and how hot everyone is because he’s actually kind of a slut and he’s not at all ashamed of it and the boy got game. 

He’s been long dicked for as long as he can remember, but he doesn’t make a huge deal of it and no one takes notice of it because he’s a grower, not a shower, so there’s no locker room buzz around him. Thing is, he’s always asking about stuff because he’s always trying to put himself out there. He’s not asking about crazy kinks because he can’t relate to sex and only lives in the fantasy of it– he wants to know if Scott as ever edged and ruined his orgasm for hours on end because Stiles did that with some guy online last weekend and after three hours of being instructed to smack his own balls every time he was getting close, he came harder than he ever has in his whole life and he wants that for his best bro! 

But skype sex is apparently the new version of the girlfriend in Canada and they all roll their eyes at him and Lydia goes off on a tangent about how misogynist hentai is and how he better not be watching tentacle porn and how boobs that big are actually a health problem for a lot of women. He listens pretty intensely, because she knows her shit and it’s actually pretty fascinating, but when he gets home later that day, he realizes he got sidetracked pretty effectively and now his balls are swollen and he really wants to come. None of the guys in the shower after gym took him seriously when he said he’d love to just take a little time to sixty nine on the bench, Scott’s still refusing to do the ultimate bro bond of crossing thighs and reaching across while jacking off, and after Lydia’s rant he’s really not in the mood for porn. 

So he goes to reddit, puts out an add for skype sex, and it’s just minutes before he’s sifting through messages and the profiles attached to them to try and pick a guy out to engage. And then he sees a familiar username– the guy that was pinching his tits and stretching his foreskin while coaching Stiles through smacking his dick. ‘Wanna go again, pretty boy? I’m soaked in pre and feeling like a real fuckboy today. Could take the reins with that thick tool of yours and make me cry daddy.’ He’s as big a slut as Stiles is and even more shamelessly nasty. A scroll through his profile shows his own posts, alternating pretty evenly between wanting to dom and needing a strong hand and a deep dicking. He’s asked for everything from dirty talk to coming in panties to watersports and Stiles is so game to get real dirty with this guy. 

He’s got his microphone on and his head cut just out of frame in seconds, dialing his mystery date up and freeing his boner as he waits for his call to be accepted. He’s greeted by a hairy, ripped torso for just a few seconds before his date is turning around, kneeling on his desk chair, and arching his back to show Stiles how slick his hairy hole is, and how his long cock and swollen balls hang between his thick thighs, drooling pre from the overhang of his foreskin in the lewdest fashion. 

Stiles slips into the proposed role after just a few seconds of ogling and pitches his voice low, thumbs at his cock to push it against it’s natural curve every few seconds so it slaps against his belly. “Lookit you, practically gagging for it.” He answered with a whine this close to canine and he chews his bottom lip in an effort not to moan. His date spreads his thighs wider, reaches back to spread his fat cheeks, and uses his thick fingers to brush aside the dark hair and show Stiles the pulse and wink of his dusky, prepped hole. 

“Bet that ass is greedy– would try and suck me in while I fingered it.” The slightly sweaty back arches, those fingers test his rim, and Stiles watches as his statement is confirmed when that hungry hole lips around three fingers, muscles working to pull them deeper instead of tensing to keep them out. “Fuck, baby, look at it go. So loose already, bet I’d have to use my fist just to make you feel tight. But you’d like that wouldn’t you? Bottom bitch like you would love to get his prostate punched– wet yourself as I press on your bladder and go wrist deep.” 

Both their breathing hitches– gets heavy and wet– and Stiles can see the shift in the shoulders at the top of the screen as his date turns to watch him play with his cock. There’s a low moan and the other boy starts to squirm in an effort to get further down on his fingers, rolling his hips and fucking up into himself with sharp, harsh jabs. Stiles spreads his legs and massages his balls as he squirts pre onto his own belly. “I’d make you gape for me, jack off into that hungry ass and breed you good, stick a plug in there to breed you good and keep you ready for me all day long.” 

With his free hand, Stiles’ date slaps his own ass, making the flesh shake before he grabs it with a white knuckle grip and gropes himself, kneading the thick meat and slapping it again. He continues to fingerfuck himself wildly, moaning whorishly through the mic and writhing in his chair. He gets so mindless with it that he’s careless, ducks down low enough to show off his trimmed beard and buck teeth that seem somehow familiar…  “Would make you clean my wet cock with that sexy mouth and taste your own ass mixed with my cum.” 

They both shoot off, open mouthed, sweaty skinned, and making obscene sounds across their speakers. They take turns scooping up their mess and sucking it off their fingers, and then standing to play with their softening cocks for each other. “Same time tomorrow?” his date speaks for the first time this session– a little out of breath, but clearly excited. Stiles rubs absent circles around his belly and bites his lips as he watches the other man’s thighs jiggle and shake as he moves. They’re fuzzy and strangely sexy/cute in this after glow. He kind of wants to lay his face on them, suck love bites and blow raspberries and have his hair petted. 

“Totally.” He ducks down just low enough to show off his smirk and puts his hand on the lid of his laptop, ready to close it. “But uh… next time, why don’t you just come over and we can do this in person, Derek.” 

Chapter Text

It’s pretty much perfect isn’t it? With the body hair and the uncut dick and don’t even talk to me about how into semi-clothed sex I am, because that rant will never end and then I’ll have to confess I find nothing cuter than a man doing his best Winnie the Pooh impression with just his shirt on and his dangle bits all out and happy. :P 

ANYWAY! I very much love the idea of Chris/Derek. Not romantically, because I’m monoshipper af and Sterek is eternal, but I could write a thousand fics with them having a platonic sex dynamic. @stickykeys633 and I might be working on a little something in that regards at a later date, but for this…

I’d love to do something like a Don Jon AU with them, where Derek is his cocky, self centered, and slightly sex addicted self while Chris is an empty nester that’s just realized he hasn’t loved his wife for a long time, and she hasn’t loved him either, they really only stayed together for their daughter and because even though they weren’t romantic, they got along. They split amicably, but now he’s left alone and wondering about himself and his life and if he’s missed out on a lot simply because he never wanted to leave the comfort of what he knew. He misses intimacy, real, genuine intimacy where you feel fragile and kind of scared with another person, but let them in anyway. 

And on the other side, Derek has never felt that before, doesn’t even really know what that is. For him, sex is just a fun time. (He’d probably still be damaged from some sketchy virginity stuff, but not outright rape, because then this storyline wouldn’t work for me). He treats it like he treats eating– regular, simple excursions and then zealous binging when he’s bored or stressed or upset. 

They meet at the gym because Chris’ therapist tells him that the endorphins from working out could help him get the gears moving to get out of this slump and be a good base to work past his depression. Derek totally makes fun of him and calls him an old dog, but also won’t leave him alone, and is very obviously very flirty and checking him out and Chris can’t help that he finds it flattering. He hasn’t been with another man since he was something like Derek’s age and since he’s changing up so much in his life, maybe this could be good for him too. 

He doesn’t even really mean for it to happen, but after their third work out together, Derek is blowing him in the parking lot from the passenger seat of his car and Chris is just holding on for dear life because the kid is sucking his cock like he’s starved for cum. He comes embarrassingly fast and Derek laughs as he swallows and then just casually jerks off against Chris’ thigh right there in public. 

Of course from there would be many misunderstandings and angst– Chris saying he wants more than a fuck, but not wanting to be anyone’s sugar daddy, Derek thinking he’s developing feelings, but realizing it’s just that this is the first mature, adult relationship that he’s had and they’re not in love, not like that. The two of them have to work out what it is that they need from each other, because they’re drawn together like magnets, and once there’s lots of fighting and rough make-up sex and angry fucks and just lots and lots of emotionally stunted men working out their feelings in a very physical way. 

Then, of course, we get to that place of sexual healing (which JGL is the only person that has ever pulled that off in a believable way for me, just FYI) and they have very tender, tear jerking sessions where they make love and for Derek it’s the first time and for Chris it’s been decades and it just sort of rebirths them. And they totally stay very close friend and everything, but then this opens them up to find more for themselves than they ever thought they could. 

And this wasn’t very much porn at all, but oh well. :P 

Chapter Text

1. Okay, so hear me out. This is gonna sound totally cheesy, but I really like this threesome as a sort of “bad boy’s club”. The three of them each have very wonderful, individual instances of asshole-ism and I like to imagine that they all fall into each other because they’re actually the biggest dicks to one another, but instead of getting upset and angry about it, they totally do the bro nod while thinking, “respect” and also adjusting their boners in their jeans because something about sharp words and mean smirks and bodying one another just gets their motors running. 

2. I’d probably go a human AU, just because I don’t want to deal with canon and because I like the idea of taking something cute and fluffy like a coffee shop AU and making it about them being total asswipes to each other, but that just being their way of flirting. Ya… Stiles is working at the local hipster-y barista place over the summer to try and save up some money for college and let’s be real, the boy is not great at it. He burns himself a lot, has a habit of treating everyone like his father and rattling off how much sugar they’re consuming and how bad it is for them, and attempting to flirt with every hot guy and girl that comes across the counter and making them supremely uncomfortable to the point where repeat hot customers are pretty rare. 

3. He thought he’d be safe from his own embarrassment because he chose somewhere on the outskirts of town, but then Derek Hale shows up– y’know, his best friend’s older step brother that he’s had a crush on for approximately as long as he can remember– he’s back from back packing in South America and he’s tanned and bearded now and mega hot in that farmer’s market kind of way where he’s also kind of unkempt and Stiles fucking melts. And then Derek smiles at him and says, “What’s up, runt?” and Stiles in instantly transported back to when he was five and Derek was still angry about having to be part of Scott’s family and used to push his block castles over and steal his snacks and call him names, but somehow that only made him more determined to be Derek’s friend. Only thing is, now he thinks he might actually be an inch or so taller than Derek, he can look him in the eye, and in his time away, the other boy has apparently sweat off a lot of his meaty, high school wrestler bulk and is a leaner muscled now, slim and sexy, but like someone Stiles could conceivably push back against. He’s not a hyperactive, somewhat lonely little boy anymore, so femininely pretty that the others made fun of him,  but so desperate for friends that he let them. His voice is deeper since Derek last saw him and he’s grown out his hair and into his limbs. He’s hadexperience now (letting Jackson push him to his knees in the locker room showers and whining at Scott until he finally gave in and let them jerk off together totally counts for things) so instead of wilting like the little wallflower Derek knew him as, he smirks and wrinkles his nose and gives Derek a slow once over. “I’m sorry, bathrooms are for paying customers only. There’s a nice homeless shelter down the street though, and from the smell of you, you’ve definitely been sleeping the trash for a while.” He expects Derek’s smile to drop, to be replaced by a scowl, and to be bullied up against a wall like he’s used to, but the other boy just grins wider, looks at him from under his lashes, and bites his lip. Woah. 

4. As soon as Derek left, Stiles was taking his break and palming his crotch roughly in the alley behind the shop, groaning as he tried to remember the exact notes of sexy musk Derek was emanating, fantasizing about what it would be like to run his hands through that thick chest hair Derek let grow, and wondering if Derek would remember his moves from the wrestling mat to manhandle him into the sluttiest positions as he got used. Halfway through his break he has to take a huge swerve in the other direction, because he’s not gonna masturbate out in the open, behind a dumpster, but he’s also tenting his pants enough to be obscene and probably real close to starting a wet spot soaking through them, so he’s gotta get this handled. He gets his dick to go down, but he’s still flushed and breathing a little heavy by the time he’s behind the counter again, and he thinks he should be fine until his shift is over and he can go home and spank it till he’s raw, but then he can hear the rabble from a block down and he groans for a totally different reason, because he knows that sound instantly. It’s the whoops and shouts and brash laughs of a pack of boys coming down the sidewalk and it’s just his luck that it’s the lacrosse team (which he still didn’t make after his third year of trying out) after a scrimmage. They line up to clean out the pastry counter and get energy boost whatever’s, wheatgrass shots, and every other pretentious thing that’s in the shop. Last up is Theo, and Stiles tries his best not to talk through gritted teeth, because that boy has been stringing him along for the past several months, but once summer hit, he was gone. This is the first time they’ve seen each other since Theo invited him to the movies with shy, sweet smiles, made out with him during the previews, and then tried to get Stiles to suck his dick during the action set pieces. Apparently he’d heard from Jackson that Stiles was gagging for dick and was slutty enough to do it in semi public places, so all the attention Stiles was getting because he thought Theo actually liked him, was just because the asshole was trying to get his dick wet and didn’t want to go through all the work of dating for it. He’d been so incensed he walked out halfway through, and was totally ashamed of himself for how he’d gotten shivers down his spine when Theo shouted after him that he knew Stiles would be back, that bitches could never stay away from cock for too long. The hard thing about the guy is that he plays sweet so, so well. Even after what he’s done, he’s here and flirting with Stiles like they’re having some boy-next-door romance, but Stiles knows the second he gave in, Theo would be calling him a slut again and probably giving him a facial just to chuckle, zip up, and walk away, leaving him hard and reeking of jizz. 

5. Stiles is just embarrassed enough of his apparent reputation at school for being a real, thirsty, bottom bitch to kite around the two boys that, for some reason, keep coming back as soon as they find out he works there. Derek drops by after his morning runs, in shorts that are short enough Stiles swears if he just got the right angle, he’d see the creases where Derek’s ass met his thighs, and Theo swaggers in near the end of his shift, always proposing they could go for a late lunch and then maybe swing by the school, where the field will be empty and that spot that everyone knows of behind the bleachers will be all theirs for as long as they need. It’s enough to drive him fucking crazy and he swears he’s frothing at the mouth after just two weeks. It all comes to a head the day that Derek comes in late, but Theo shows up early, and they give each other the best bitch face as they approach the counter at the same time and then try to shoulder the other out of the way. Derek is taller, but Theo’s got more bulk and they actually start baring their teeth by the time Stiles steps in with a smarmy smile. “Boys, boys, there’s enough barista here for both of you.” They both shoot him a glare and then Derek rolls his eyes and Theo huffs out a smothered laugh. Theo talks first, stepping over Derek who bumps him with his chest so he stumbles and Stiles can’t help but smile with moony eyes at him for it. “My parents are gonna be out for the weekend and I convinced them to leave me with the house to myself. How about you come over, we could order in Thai, and I’ll make sure to send your summer off right.” He smiles, all teeth, and not so subtly grabs his crotch, and Stiles blushes all the way up to his damn hair line. Derek snorts and just shoves Theo away to reach out and run his fingers along Stiles’ on the counter. “You could spend the weekend licking dorito dust off your fingers and pretending like you can’t smell his sweaty feet, or you could come with me. I’m camping up the canyon this weekend and we could share a sleeping bag. I’ll make you smores, we can go skinny dipping in the river… and see where it goes from there.” And then he turns to Theo with a smirk and adds, “And I don’t have to ask my mommy permission to do it.” And Theo’s usual, affable mask drops right off and his hackles rise as he squares his shoulders while trying to body back up to the counter. Stiles is immediately flustered because he’s never felt wanted before, not like this. He always felt more like a tool or a toy for the other boys, but now they’re outright fighting over him and all he can do is grin like an idiot. 

6. Oh wait, this is supposed to have porn, isn’t it? :P And there was a list of kinks too, one I completely ignored. Welp, hope you guys like a super chunky epilogue that skips a lot of steps to get to the sex! Derek and Theo would totally fight bitterly over Stiles and without even really consulting him, establish a boyfriend timeshare, joint custody type thing. They start dating him individually and he’s kind of miffed that they’re the ones deciding when he spends his time with who, on top of the fact that the both of them are so focused on one-upping the other that each date is just asking what he did on the last one and pressuring him to let them be the one to take his virginity. He swears to god they’re actually more interested in what the other is doing than what he is, and all three of them get too frustrated with this situation to handle it. It boils over and Stiles calls them both over to tell them that he’s done, it’s over, whatever it is, and they both sputter and reach out and try to get him to stay. But he’s shaking his head and trying to get out and then they both just stop, and look at each other, and they confirm something in some silent communication, and Stiles just watches in confusion and maybe even a little hurt. They move together and all the bickering is gone as they draw him in and for once, fucking finally, are tender to him. Derek kisses him slow and strong, using his hand to open Stiles’ jaw and lick into him while Theo holds his hips and noses along his nape to suck a bruise into the join of his shoulder and neck. They’re still kind of possessive and trying to take up more room than the other, but now they’re not bowling Stiles over in the effort and trampling him underfoot. He insists he doesn’t want to give himself up yet, he’s not ready for that, but they’re all hard and breathing heavy, and so Derek just nods and kisses him, and then moves into the middle without fanfare. He’s probably the only one of them that’s actually had more than a blowie, and it shows as he guides the two teens to the bed and maneuvers them through opening him on their fingers, keeping him hard during the stretch, and then taking their time as they push inside him, giving him time to adjust. They take turns slipping in and out of him, hands roving over the dark hair on his body, stomachs shaking as they try to take it slow, sweat on their brows as they mewl and make out and slide their thighs against each other. But they’re still just boys and they get impatient and overeager, and they start to overlap each other until they’re making Derek’s brows pinch as he groans and they go in together, stretching him wide to accommodate both their cocks, mashing together as they twitch and flex inside of him. And he just takes it, eyelids fluttering as he holds them against his back and chest, rolling his hips, dripping pre all over the bundle of their balls as they rub and bump. The boys cream him and then give their thanks by Theo suckling his head while Stiles felches his hole and he comes hard enough to put them both to shame.  

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1. The Hales would probably be a really well respected name in the small town, having been there for generations and having always been in that sort of business. Midwives and country doctors, city council members and school administrators too. Like, they’re everywhere, they’re the old timey founders of this place and they’ve continued to have a huge community presence. So it’s no surprise that when it comes to abo affairs, they’re the ones that everyone goes to with their questions. They’ve had every presentation in their family and have kept them healthy, safe, and successful. The whole town looks up to them and really values them as role models and leaders. 

2. Derek’s parents probably wanted him to go on and be a surgeon like his mother, but instead he goes to school to specialize in heat practices. And that field these days is like psychology when it first came out– experimental, often looked down upon, not thought to be real medicine. But he’s passionate about helping young boys through their presentation, alpha, beta, or omega, and he doesn’t care what his family thinks. Of course it’s all very sordid when he comes back into town and opens his own little practice. How obscene for a man of his age to be asking parents to bring their pubescent children to him to pleasure with both his body and various tools and toys. 

3. Thing is, it totally is working. Those few who first tried it out, who were forward thinking or had tried and hated suppressants as a means to helping their kids, brought them to him, and he helped! Every boy that went to him raved about the experience. They came back with a healthy glow and a newfound confidence in themselves and what they wanted. They didn’t struggle after their first visit with him, taking their future heats in stride whether they found partners, went back to his clinic, or even some managed them on their own with suggestions of toys and products that he gave them. Slowly word of mouth traveled around and though he never got booming business, he got enough to stay open and live comfortably, with very dedicated and loyal patients. 

4. His uncle Peter was actually one of his first clients and is now his head assistant, like a nurse. The man presented omega and had severe presentation personality issues brought on by the way his parents dealt with it. They humiliated him about it, said he had to become a complacent housewife and control himself and his grotesque urges. He always thought he wanted to be an alpha to make them happy, to be a real man, and he got into drugs and anonymous sex and totally pushed away his highschool sweetheart that loved him very much. Derek came back to town, took him in when the rest of his family turned him away, having dealt with too much of his addiction and the chaos it caused, and counseled his uncle through therapeutic heat sessions. Eventually Peter got himself sober and Derek showed him how he could be whatever he wanted to be and still be an omega, still love his body and the pleasure it gave him. And somehow Peter reunited with Chris many years later. Both with kids now and a little grey in their hair, but still the same boys deep down and they’re totally dating and Derek thinks it’s adorable and shyly dismisses when they say he’s the reason they got this second chance. 

5. (Haha, oops. I guess I should do some actual porny things now instead of just blathering about world building at you, huh?) Derek’s always been calm and sweet and professional, never showing those alpha stereotypes of lewd brutishness, possessiveness, and aggression. Sometimes his patients have latched onto him, but he’s always collected and careful and helps them through their fixation into healthier relationships. It’s never been a problem. Until Stiles walks into his clinic. The sheriff’s son. John was very reluctant to bring him here, but nothing else has been able to assuage the crippling heats his boy suffers and he just wants Stiles to feel better. Derek takes the boy in with a very serious nod and promises to help. He tries his best to keep it together, but Stiles is the sweetest omega he’s ever encountered. Not like swooning and beauteous, but he just calls to Derek. His slick smells of rice steeped in sugary cream and cardamom, his body slots so perfectly to Derek’s and when they knot, they stay tied for longer than Derek has in his life, moaning and cooing as he pets Stiles’ flanks, supports his shaking thighs, and seeds him deep and long. The boy kisses him with pure abandon, traps him in those intense amber eyes, and catches him with that sweet cunt, never letting him go for long. Derek spends days sleeping at the clinic, staying with him. He kind of loses track of time, just alternates cycles of sleep, fuck, eat, sleep, fuck, eat. He doesn’t even realize that they’re nesting, that they’ve made this corner of sheets soaked in their sweat and slick and semen. That he’s been mating this boy instead of just coaching him through this. He totally gets Stiles pregnant, and the seven years difference in their age is kind of pronounced when the boy is only sixteen. But he seems so sleepily content, so pleased with it, and it totally raises lots of eyebrows in the community when Dr. Hale drops off his baby mama at high school, smiling and giving him wet, hungry kisses, baby bump between them, telling him to walk to the clinic after class and they’ll get some dinner when he’s done with their clients. But they’re obviously happy and things continue on as they were before. Derek doesn’t mate any of his other patients, Peter and Chris get married, and Stiles has a baby boy the summer between his junior and senior year. 

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Peter’s sexuality has always been… unique. He thrived off of someone else’s discomfort, on pushing them to their limits and on making them question whether they wanted to be enjoying this as much as they clearly were. It started small, kissing straight boys and getting them to give into the hormones and frot cocks with him. He often times snap out his hand to smear precum on their lips and watch their eyes widen in horror as they lick it off in reflex, moaning at it even as they want to not enjoy it. He liked to bring boyfriends home on long weekends or invite them on family trips and then fuck them as loud as possible with his parents and siblings, uncles and nieces all close by. He has a short but incredibly fat dick that he loved fucking married men with, making sure their wives couldn’t see them naked for the next couple day’s or else it would draw concern. He loved having sex in public places, being risky with it, and watching as his partners couldn’t help but want him even more for dogging them. 

The depravity ramps up when Derek’s balls drop and Peter knows he wants him, sees the boy that’s a little less than half his age, and his own family, and thinks to himself all the adventurous, filthy ways he could corrupt him. He listened in on Derek when he started to masturbate, stole his stained cum rags to sniff and suck and jerk himself off into. He finds reasons to be places Derek is undressed and never backs down from the boy, always pushing into his personal space, never looking away when he should, touching him too long, too low, too much. 

He doesn’t know whether Derek just so happened to share his same perversion, or if his influence changed the boy, but he finds himself oddly unsurprised when his nephew is presenting every time he fucks– lifting his ass high in the air and showing off his hairy hole while he pounds away. It’s like a damn beacon to him, all he can pay attention to even with Stiles being quite the screamer every time the two of them go at it, and he wants. 

He’s rewarded by Derek calling out to him, begging for him when he pops his knot and starts to convulse and jerk inside of his mate. Even if he loses the game forever, it’s too much for Peter to enjoy passively anymore and he walks out to brutally fuck his nephew open with little prep, enjoying the way Stiles yelps and squirms, but can’t get out of his tie. Derek is just blissful and whited out as he continues to come, milking Peter’s own knot that’s staring to form, and he enjoys the kid’s tight ass as he sneers down at his boyfriend, loving his red face, wriggling body, and bitten off moans and Derek fills him up and stretches him wide. 

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Okay, y’all don’t even know (or maybe you do because you follow this blog and it’s very easy to keep up with everything that I post) but I have feelings about enthusiastic bottom Derek. Like, the guy is strong and blunt and knows what he wants and what he wants is his big, furry ass played with, goddamnit. Why else would he wear those ridiculous jeans and find reasons to make his asscheeks literally bounce?! 

And Stiles is totally who his heart wants, but he’s still kind of afraid of that because so far following his heart has not lead to some very good things. He wants some D real bad, but is it worth getting all tangled up in another thing that could go remarkably south? Especially with a guy that’s kinda sorta becoming one of his best friends that he’s ever had? 

So let’s go on a journey here and say that Derek actually has the thirst for everyone and he thinks that’s all it is. As long as he just gets himself some regular, good dickings, then he can stave off what he’s feeling for Stiles. It’s a slutty, coward’s move, but he just needs more time to put it off, to try and figure out what he wants and if he did want, if he could actually have. 

At the very least he’s thankful Stiles is totally oblivious to it, because he’s sure whatever chances he might have would be totally obliterated if the guy knew Derek was sitting on every dick in the pack but his. It started with Scott just hanging around after a pack meeting, asking more about born-wolf pack dynamics and how to better bond everyone. Derek was listening and he was actually pretty invested in the conversation, about Scott actually wanting to do this right and maybe get his pack on solid ground for the first time. 

But he was also crazy horny. Stiles had sat next to him during the movie earlier, thigh to thigh, and kept turning his head to whisper quips to Derek, brushing his lips against the side of Derek’s face and ghosting his warm, wet breath inside his ear. It’s made him chubbed in his jeans for the last hour and Scott’s here, and an alpha, which totally gets Derek even hotter. He starts thinking about if Scott’s smaller body has a more compact strength, if his alpha power could hold him down and pound him good, if he’d bite at the back of Derek’s neck. 

Scott starts trailing off as soon as he smells the precum wet Derek’s dick and they just look at each other for a second before Derek strolls across the room, pushes Scott down onto the couch, and growls “take off your pants” as he’s already shucking his and then straddling the younger boy. Their shirts and shoes stay on, jeans tight on their calves as Derek rides him, supporting himself on Scott’s chest as the alpha holds his hips and just makes surprised, spluttering noises, squirming and grinning and whining as Derek milks his beautifully crooked cock, coming only after Scott has creamed him twice. 

Then he’d climbed off, pulled up his jeans, and given Scott a short, sharp nod and a murmured thanks before walking to his bedroom in a bit of a dismissal. They haven’t talked about it since, but it hasn’t seemed to trip up happy-go-lucky Scott for a second, so it was a worthwhile distraction. 

Frotting and fingering with Jackson was not quite as simple. It was more of his unresolved sexual tension and frustrated aggression coming out. He wanted to shove Stiles to his knees and sit on his face, see how perfectly that cute little upturned nose slotted into his furry crack. Instead when Jackson teased him about being out of touch with his emotions and a total dudebro, he shoved the fucker up against a wall and growled at him, baring his teeth. He didn’t count on Jackson whimpering, melting against him, and making the most pathetic humiliation lover’s expression as his cock got hard against Derek’s hip. 

But then it was all over from there. Derek got hard in response, Jackson started rolling his hips, and before he knew it, they both had their fingers rudely fucking into each other while they dry humped in each other’s pre cum, hard cocks rutting and sliding while their balls mashed together. Jackson kept trying to kiss him and Derek kept pulling away and telling him, “Harder, more!” It was clear they’re both hungry bottom bitches and the frustration of trying to get each other off without one shoving their cock in the other was almost more angry than stimulating. Almost. 

The struggle, the clawing, and the battle for orgasm made it that perfect kind of brutal. It was that bruising kind of fuck that you feel sore for days after, but it helped keep Derek focused. Every time Stiles would smirk at him, laughter shining in those amber eyes, Derek would feel the ache in his ass and remember that just hours ago he’d texted Jackson and made him leave a family fundraiser to buy them a double ended dildo to play with. 

They had to stop because Jackson wanted more and Derek was closing his eyes to try and imagine Stiles while they screwed and that was very obviously not a good thing. The kid was still kind of salty about it, but in that way that he was shitty to Stiles, but was still rubbing up against Derek like a damn cat in heat. 

So he moved on to someone he knew wasn’t emotionally ready for a relationship either. Isaac was also getting reacquainted with his body, also learning to be okay with what he wanted and other people wanting things of him. They understood each other in that way– how there was a thin line between good and bad bruises, good and bad ways to say certain words, good and bad ways to be challenged. It was easy being with him because there was no worry and no fronting and they didn’t have to pretend like they weren’t both a little fucked in the head about these things. 

Isaac had a real slender cock, like noticeably so. It took very little prep to get him inside, but the great thing was it made up for it in length. He could drive deep, use that slimness to get in fast and then just keep going and going. Derek fucking loved it. When he needed to be fucked it was never more than five minutes away, could be done with spit for lube if he was hard up enough not to mind the bit of burn, and he’d be sure to have his prostate bashed nice and rough. 

Stopping was easy between them, there wasn’t even a conversation. Just one day they both kind of knew that what they needed from each other had been fulfilled and it was nice. They smiled at each other, bumped shoulders, and exchanged one dry, long, soft kiss. 

And then Derek’s left with Stiles. Stiles who makes him smile even when he really doesn’t want to. Stiles who steals his breath away doing the most mundane shit. Stiles who leaves his scent strung around the loft like it’s no big deal, like Derek being able to smell his hair on the pillows, his sweat in the couch, his affection in the air all the goddamn time isn’t maddening. 

Derek can’t help the way he acts around him, like an excitable puppy, bounding around for attention. Maybe he could help all the unnecessary backflips, but Stiles always looks at him with those huge eyes, wide with awe and envy, he always laughs, and he always lets off deep whaffs of arousal. He makes Derek unconsciously flex around him, makes him forget proper personal space, and worst of all, makes him present. 

All the boys and even the girls try not to let him catch them snickering as he snaps his spine straight back, ears fiercely red as he realizes he had his ass jutted out again. He does that all the time now, wears low rise jeans and no underwear. He shifts his weight from foot to foot, making his asscheeks jiggle and bounce as they reposition, settling with one higher than the other. He lounges against things, leans across long spaces, picks shit up off the floor, and does so many damn squats his thighs have started to really stretch his pants. 

It’s ridiculous and embarrassing and makes him so damn hot for it that he buys a vibrator just to try and stave it off. But then Stiles is at the sex shop. Stiles is oblivious to him for a second as Derek is trying to rush the cashier who can’t quite figure out the register while also being unable to keep his hands away from scratching his balls for more than thirty seconds. 

And then the boy sees him, a gleeful, wicked smile on his face as he comes over. Derek wants to die right then and there. Stiles sees what he’s buying, and that teasing expression smolders into something so heated Derek’s nuts pulse. There’s not even words as the toy is abandoned and he’s dragged to the bathroom, the lock thrown, the glory holes ignored as Stiles shoves him up onto a sink, spreads his legs, and yanks down his jeans. 

Derek just moans and nods and reaches down to part his cheeks for him, flash his hole and even make it unfurl for Stiles. His stomach is quivering and they haven’t even started and Stiles is getting on his knees to eat him out and he didn’t even ask for it, didn’t push on his head or straddle his face. Derek’s trying his best to simultaneously grasp onto the mirrored medicine cabinet with condoms, lube, and wipes inside without tearing it off the goddamn wall because Stiles is making the lewdest goddamn noises as he fucking makes out with Derek’s asshole. He sucking and licking and nibbling and just straight up kissing the dusky, wrinkled skin, burrowing his face so deep his nose is smashing right behind Derek’s balls and his face is getting swallowed by the ample meat of his cheeks. 

Derek is fucking seeing God with the way that boy’s tongue moves– all finesse even as his hunger is sloppy-wrecked– moaning and writhing just as much as Derek like he can’t fucking get enough. It’s fucking amazing, but Derek also wants dick and he wants it now, so he does tug on Stiles’ hair, makes him stand up, and with too many pauses to gulp in breath says, “Get… inside me… now.” 

And Stiles stutters for a moment, hesitates for the first time, and Derek can’t fathom why. Every dude ever will stick their dick anywhere you let them. He already did the part that usually takes some bartering. He was just suffocating in Derek’s ass, why is he waiting to flip it out and get balls deep? 

But then he just goes for it, drops his pants and fluorescent briefs, and he’s hard as nails, a legitimately pretty pink. He’s the picture perfect dichotomy that you only get in dicks where he looks hard enough to snap, but so incredibly soft. His balls are full and peachy, his bush thick and dark. And he’s about three inches, three and a half maybe. 

Derek would never call himself a size queen, but he does want to be fucked kind of like an animal and so he doesn’t really know how to react. But then Stiles is stepping back into him, rubbing that stub between his cheeks, teasing his hole and letting Derek feel the pre running down his short shaft. He’s pressing their bodies together, nipping at Derek’s lips, licking into his mouth. He’s groping Derek’s pecs, petting his flanks, and massaging his balls while Derek is holding himself open, begging for it. 

Then they’re fucking and holy goddamn shit does Stiles know what he’s doing. The kid doesn’t just jackrabbit inside of him, using Derek like a living fleshlight. He’s got moves. The rhythms his hips make are fucking transfixing. Derek doesn’t miss a goddamn inch. Derek comes so hard he gives himself a facial. 

Derek loves that little dick and he loves the boy that it’s attached to. The pack is relieved for half a second before they start making out in public and find out just how handsy Stiles can get

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He’s the star of the high school wrestling team– not the most popular clique of jocks at BHHS, but the one that hold Stiles’ interest the most. He’s not like the other boys. The lacrosse players, the golf club, whatever rich, suburban sport else they have… tennis? 

Derek Hale is kinda short, he’s very hairy, he sweats a lot, and he’s the kind of husky that makes Stiles’ three inch dick drip with want. In fact, it’s matting the dark, thick treasure trail underneath it as Stiles’ thighs quiver and he can’t help the wanton moan that falls from his lips as he fucks his chubby cocklet against Derek’s barrel-belly.

The other boy is crazy strong, super athletic, and very dedicated, but his weight class is on the larger side and so he carbo-loads like there’s no tomorrow and his heft makes Stiles want to be sat on. The kid’s ass is out of this world, his thighs could smother Stiles in fifteen seconds, and he’s got that cub-like chub on his torso where you can’t tell if his chest should be called man boobs or pecs. 

Stiles kneads them with firm, sure fingers, flicking his nails across the stiff, brown jut of his nipples every so often, making Derek gasp. He looks a little overwhelmed, reclining against some lockers, straddling the changing room bench while Stiles’ straddles his lap and grinds dick against his stomach. To be fair, he probably wasn’t expecting this, but also, he should have been. 

Stiles has only been hounding after him for close to a year now, being so publicly thirsty it’s embarrassing at this point. Derek was probably just too shy and a little too self conscious to really pick up on what he was putting out, but Stiles would have none of that. The guy is fucking gorgeous, sexy as all get out, and also funny and sweet and all those other things that makes Stiles wanna eat his ass for the next eternity just as a public service. 

As it stands, he’s settled for cornering Derek after a match, confessing his feelings, and dodging the self conscious backpedal he tried to respond with by pulling down his pants and show him the microdick he guesses other guys want him to be ashamed of, but that he secretly kind of loves. They stared at each other for a bit and then Derek was groaning and Stiles just sort of tackled him, wrestled his unitard straps off his shoulders and down his thick body, and then started humping away like the horny teen he is. 

Derek is hot and sweaty and breathless and it should be gross but Stiles kind of wants to lick his pits and come all over him, and shit– oh shit. His hips are jerking, his balls and ass and nipples draw tight, his dicklet is spitting and fuck fuck fuck. 

Derek Hale’s immaculate cub body is drenched in his jizz. His dick is softening against the jock’s belly button, he’s vaguely aware of a similar stickiness in the crease of his thigh where Derek is twitching, and he’s still groping Derek’s chest like he’s trying to pump it for milk. There’s a thick trail of it on his cheek, slowly dripping down. 

Derek smiles and licks it up.

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Putting Theo Raeken in his place was easier than Stiles thought it was going to be, and it felt good to be the one to have the power. Honestly, all it took was a little lip licking, some heated eyes and dragging touches. The guy was panting after him in just a matter of weeks. 

He tried to play it tough, tried to use his bulk to body Stiles into submissiveness, but he doesn’t play that way. Any fuck boy that thinks he can tell Stiles he wants to fuck his throat and make him gag can get wrecked. Hooking up is all about being with another person. You wanna rabbit fuck a hole and be done in five minutes? Go home to your fleshlight. 

And that attitude catches him off guard, enough for Stiles to shove him on his ass, spread his legs and nuzzle up insides of his thick thighs, lipping at the warm skin and dark hair, moving further and further into his groin. And all Theo does is heave out a shaky breath, put his hands behind his head, flex his dick. 

He closes his eyes, sure Stiles is gonna worship his cock and drain his nuts dry. It’s what gives Stiles time to dig out his own little box of playthings, pick out a slim, strong bullet vibe to strap against his shaft. Stiles positions it on the underside, right at the cleft of his cockhead, and before he can react to the deft move, he flicks it on. 

Theo’s eyes roll back and his hips punch up and Stiles smirks as he moans, dick already starting to spit pre at the forcible buzz of the toy. Stiles pets his shaking thighs, smirking to himself as Theo seems like he’s struggling to catch up, gulping in breaths, whining uncomfortably, and hunching over his hard, weeping cock. His furrowed brows, and little mewls make him seem confused as to what’s happening and Stiles doesn’t even bother to speak as he fondles the swollen hang out Theo’s balls, rubs at his flanks, twists his nipples and spanks his ass. 

The manipulative, power hungry teen just lays back and takes it, spreads his legs, arches his back, begs with his body to be given what he needs. 

Stiles isn’t quite feeling forgiving yet.

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He’d honestly never thought about it. He’s thought about guys… that way since he was a teenager, but then Paige and Kate happened and it seemed like his desires only ever lead to terrible things, so it never developed past the curiosity, past the appreciation and wide porn preference. And that never seemed like a big deal– looking at, but never touching another guy. 

Then Stiles came along, and it didn’t really seem to be in Derek’s hands anymore. He couldn’t keep the distance. Charming and funny and loyal and so damn stubborn, he just stuck. His scent was all over the apartment, their eyes constantly caught and he touched Derek. It was a simple thing, but Derek hadn’t really been touched for a very long time. Just hands on his shoulder, at his elbow, making sure he was there, steady, okay. 

And he couldn’t take it, couldn’t keep stalling out when he was dreaming of that touch going further, being firmer. They kissed and now Stiles hooks his fingers in Derek’s belt loops to drag him around, tweaks his nipples in playful anger or frustration, rubs the back of Derek’s neck, and oh ya, slaps his ass approximately a dozen times a day. 

It’ll never stop being jarring and embarrassing enough to make his eyes go wide, his ears go red, and his throat go dry, but he has to kind of admit, he likes it. Wriggling around afterwards as everyone gives them the eye he can’t help that he loves how much Stiles wants him, all the time. Because the slap is very rarely that flat handed, sharp bro swat. It’s fingers clenching the meat, Stiles whispering something possessive in his ear, and then– then! When he pulls away, Stiles strokes. 

Those long, sure fingers, clenched around the ample meat of his ass, slide into his crack and brush as they leave, and if his clothes are thin enough, or if it’s while they’re fucking, Stiles grabbing him there to urge him on, faster and harder, they touch him. It sends electric thrills up his spine, so sensitive it seems like it’s beyond just the nerve endings. 

He’s not like the guys in porn that get finger blasted and take ten inch dildos. He’s really hairy there, tight, and unlubed. He doesn’t know how to take it, jerks and whines, hole convulsing as it tries to decide whether it wants to unfurl or clench. Stiles never pushes, never in the bed, and Derek is grateful for being allowed to always lead, but he feels to stunted and shy to ever explore it himself. 

But he can’t stop thinking about it. He chews on his lips as his ass clenches every time it comes to mind. When he bumps into a cart at the grocery store, can’t help but grind down on the corner. At the gym in nothing but thin cotton shorts and a jock strap, he drags his ass hard across every machine. Then in the shower, he’s so used to just perfunctory cleaning, but he digs his fingers just like Stiles does, groping himself, pulling apart his cheeks, sliding them down to brush and tease. 

It makes his heavy ball sack jump, pre drool from his foreskin, his breath catch, and his thighs quiver. There’s no one there. Well, a couple random stragglers. He likes going at odd hours, doesn’t want to be bothered by meat heads and aggressive vegans. Guys touch themselves in the showers all the time anyway. It’s like a rule you just pretend that everyone doesn’t masturbate a little here. 

So he just goes for it, plants one hand on the tiled wall, buries his face in that arm, back bent to pop his hairy ass out. If anyone wanted to watch, it’s a blatant and open show, and he bites near his armpit to keep from making noises to purposely attract a crowd. 

He kneads his own cheeks, gets himself hot for it with the tease, pulling them apart, squeezing and smacking them. He spreads his thighs, lets his heavy, dripping junk dangle, rolls his hips, begging himself. The warm water and soap make the push easy. He’s surprised with the force he has to commit to get inside. It’s not an easy glide, he has to shove. 

But the stretch, he moans as he rubs his face into his own armpit. One finger, in and out, in and out, stroking and poking and crooking inside to give an exploratorytug. He makes room for two, swirls them and scissors. His stomach is fluttering, his back is tense, he can hear someone beating off behind him and smells sweat and pre. 

Three fingers and he’s going deep, looking for that place that makes Stiles’ eyelids flutter shut, his chubby cock spit. It’s a firm, roundish, little node, and as he mashes it, rude and overeager, his whole body shakes. He’s loud enough that everyone should  know what he’s doing, and it only takes seconds to bruise enough to make him come all over his feet. 

Jesus, that was just fingers. He kind of can’t stop wondering what Stiles’ tongue might feel like.

Chapter Text

Oh, Derek.” His boy is strapped to a bench, padded leather holding him in position as he mewls and whines. He’s still boy-slim, only fifteen, but he’s just as hairy as all the other men in the family, and his musk is heady and overwhelming as it permeates the room. “Don’t worry, daddy’s got you.”

There’s slick gathering in the shallow pool of his gaping hole, dark and dusky, and it shimmers as it waits to overflow. It gets caught on the dark, fine hair, but every time Papa Hale squeezes one of the swollen, tennis ball sized nuts in his hands, it makes Derek clench and the gathered fluid run down his thighs and sack. 

He’s kneeling to the side of it, in nothing but loose, white briefs that have been drawn tight over his hard, alpha cock. He lets his son mash his face in his musky crotch, soothing himself off the smell and taste of an alpha, his dad. “It’s okay boy, I’m gonna make you feel so good.”

Derek’s balls are huge, hot, and heavy in his palm. The loose sack has them hanging low enough to swing in pendulum motions, but they’re too large to both sit evenly at the bottom, so one balances higher up than the other. He pulls at them, bats them to make them sway, massages and hefts. 

There’s enough slick to make them sticky, lewd noises accompanying every touch, and Derek shakes as he whimpers. “It’s only the first day of your heat, baby boy. Gotta hold up better than this.” Papa Hale pinches his sons little omega dicklet, rolls is between his fingers and then gives his massive nuts a tug. 

The floor is drenched. 

Chapter Text

(You guys will never know how very proud I am that you let this be a thing. My stupid, self indulgent ass forced this AU on y’all and you ran with it, so you’re the best. :P) 

He’s used to being in charge of all the other boys, of holding down the fort while Derek breeds. He likes that he gets to let the rest of them be greedy and indulgent and carefree. After all, he’s the oldest omega in the camp and he’s only twenty. They should get to act their age and enjoy their harem. Not every omega gets an alpha that takes such good care of them, or broodmates that are this kind. Often they fight for attention, scrabble to be the one to get to please the alpha, will even try to take the others out in secret. 

So he’s happy to be the harem’s mother most of the time, even though he aches to join in on the kiddish abandon too. He watches the other boys laugh and growl as they tackle and wrestle each other, antics often a form of foreplay as they soon start rutting against each other, getting their holes loose and soppy for when they visit Derek for the day. They lounge in the shade and feed each other by hand, doze in the sun, naked, and drooling a fresh load from the alpha out onto the backs of their thighs. 

He smiles at all of them, runs his hands through their hair, makes sure no one gets sunburned, everyone stays hydrated, keeps the flow of boys in and out of his mate’s tent steady. He makes sure there’s always enough food, answers most of the missives from other harems while Derek is in a breeding haze, keeps everyone happy and healthy, everything smooth and running. 

He gets so busy with it, he forgets that he’s meant to be providing heirs too. Until one afternoon, he’s walking about Derek’s tent, dragging out the smaller boys that dozed off during their knotting– wrung out by the intensity of their orgasms and unable to hold onto consciousness the full duration of Derek’s seeding– replenishing the stores, and wiping his mate down with a cool cloth, making sure he doesn’t overheat while trying not to remove too much of the accumulated sweat and cum and slick. The thick musk of pheromones on his body does wonders to increase fertility, so he mostly dabs, palming Derek’s firm, furry belly, circling his neck, taking his time on his forehead. 

He had been asleep, or in a post-coital fugue, but suddenly his cool, light eyes go sharp and he snaps out his hand, catching Stiles by the wrist. His head bobs, slow and minute as he scents the air around him, leaning out of his nest of pillows and silks until his face is pressed to the soft, pale skin of Stiles’ stomach. Derek rumbles, nuzzling his face their, making his beard scritch the pooch that is starting to swell. 

Stiles didn’t want to let Derek know until he was further along, at a safer stage, but he should have known his mate and alpha would be recognize the scent of his own litter. Mostly he was banking on Derek being too exhausted every time he was near. Stiles is the first to take a breeding, the first to feel his nipples get sticky and puffy and sensitive, to see his stomach swell and know he’s succeeded. 

“Lay with me,” Derek murmurs, eyes burning bright and intense. He pulls back to look at Stiles with utter adoration and as a display of fertility, worthiness, want, he spreads his legs wide as he can get them, arches his back to present the thick, hard, dripping cock between his meaty thighs. His thick bush of dark pubes is virile and inviting, and the loose, heavy hang of his breeder’s sack makes Stiles shiver. The sight of his balls, swollen to the size of fat grapefruits wets his hole in want. 

But he’s already been successfully bred, and the opportunity to do something he hasn’t in a long time has him salivating. Derek’s cum hasn’t been allowed to go to waste for so long now, but it wouldn’t matter if it was pushed deep into his ass anyway. He’s got a litter, and so maybe, just this once, he could drink it again. They were teenagers when he last got to string himself out on that high, smothering his face between Derek’s legs, suckling his ever-drooling dick for hours while Derek licked and licked and licked at his soppy center. 

They used to spend all day feeding off the other’s hormones, luxuriating in the cottony dream-state it would put them in. All thoughts would just fade to fuzz, replaced by pure instinct. Only the need for more. He’d guzzle alpha cum till his belly was chubby with it, his mouth and throat so messy he no longer mewled, but gargled. Derek’s mouth on his ass would be much the same, gulping at the rivulets of slick like he’d never stop being thirsty, their muscles so loose they couldn’t move much besides their heads anyway. 

Derek pulls him down now, whirls them around so Stiles is nestled in the damp, hot space where his alpha was just resting, and his mate his above him. It’s more energy and alertness than Stiles has seen from him in months. Derek had been gone to that haze this whole time, made to have a singular focus and need– his ever hard cock a machine for his harem to utilize. 

Now he growls and grins as he holds himself above Stiles and starts to fuck that alpha dick against his body. He drags the hot, wet member all over Stiles’ chest in uncoordinated circles, pinches his loose foreskin to squeeze out thick gobs of precum that he pushes against Stiles’ lips, down his neck. He fucks into his mate’s armpits, the creases of his thighs, clenches the soles of his feet between his thighs, smothers the tiny, chubby omega cock against his own. But he spends the most time dragging it slow and thorough against Stiles’ belly, the round of it getting shiny with the layers of musky pre coating it. 

Stiles lays back and lets himself be indulged this time, pulling Derek back up his body by his thick, meaty ass, guiding that dusky, dripping dick into his mouth. His eyes roll back in his head, his lashes flutter shut, and he lets himself drown.

Chapter Text

It’s a covetously kept secret, but often heard rumor that Derek Hale, social chair of Alpha Chi Omega, didn’t have a single discriminatory bone in his body when it came to sex. Most people would say that was obvious, with the way he doggedly flirted at everyone he met, his obscenely skimpy clothes, and how he could never stop talking about how bad he needed to nut while jugging his loose, most likely free balls. 

But for some reason, it never occurred to most that that extended past the bounds of gender. Derek Hale, manslut extraordinaire, was always seen as the epitome of the alpha male. He could have any girl he wanted, was friends with every dude on campus, played every sport, was good at every video game, and never smelled of anything less than fucked out. It was something that made all the women titter or grope or hate– whichever was their preference when it came to a virile, carefree young man. 

And it did the same for the boys. His frat bros, his teammates, his lab partners, and everyone else that encountered him on campus. All of them couldn’t help butwant after Derek. It was a confusing notion for a collection of kids that grew up in a culture where gay was the standard insult. And so some felt guilty, some felt angry, and some were just overwhelmed by the notion of panting after another guy. 

Those that kept to it though, those that couldn’t leave those feelings alone, were gifted the knowledge that Derek was not so afflicted. Derek, in fact, loved to wake his housemates up with a sloppy beej, getting his mustache all tangled up in their pubes as they tried to keep quiet so the guys across the hall wouldn’t get suspicious. Derek loved to let his center and point guard lick his sweaty balls and suck his long toes after practice in the locker rooms, not judging them for liking it before they all showered. And Derek adored rewarding his study buddies with sucking bites to the join of their shoulder and neck while his thick fingers worked between their ass cheeks, getting them to writhe in their chairs while trying their best to summarize a very important chapter. 

If there was ever even the slightest question in a guy’s mind, if he just wondered how his dick measured up sometimes, if he caught himself imagining what cum tasted like, but chickened out on sampling his own, if he sometimes fantasized about how much tighter an ass would be, then he was allowed to figure it out with Derek. Somehow discrete despite his very public crudeness, he was patient and talented and giving. 

There wasn’t a thing Derek didn’t enjoy doing. Blowing, fucking, rimming, riding, fingering, ‘bating, even just frotting in their clothes like horny teenagers until they creamed their pants. He was down for all of it. He loved to watch the guy’s eyes blow wide, the stomach’s flutter, thighs tense and hips buck. He got off on the twist of concern and ecstasy that warred over their face when he made them cum so hard they saw stars. He could read the way they started to question themselves, how they knew they wanted more and what that could possibly mean. 

Being that safe place for them to experiment, to get good and filthy, to be worshiped, it was the greatest thing that higher education had ever given him. He made sure he always presented himself as a green light, as something nearly animal in his blatant sexuality. Cock and balls always swinging freely in his shorts, free to be glimpsed up the leg of them should someone sit with him. Tank tops that were cut all the way down to his waist, and all the way in to be showing off the dark brown of his nipples, the thickness of his treasure trail, his musky pits. He flashed his asscrack frequently, readjusted himself at length, and always found reasons to take his shirt off. 

He never dated, but found himself fonder of certain trysts than others. Scott, his lil’ bro in the house and who he personally guided through pledging, was a great, consistent fuck buddy. Always around to suck each other on the couch in between online deathmatches of the FPS du jour, go skinny dipping and hump in the hot tub, or have lethargic, bloated, gassy sex after demolishing two large pizzas and a tub of ice cream while watchign shitty horror movies on Netflix. He never challenged Derek and that’s exactly what he wanted sometimes. Just something effortless and fun. 

Then there was Jackson and Theo. Both absolute dicks that he would never spend casual down time with, the opposite of Scott. They always happened to be at the Field House every time Derek worked out, and ended up in half the intramurals he signed himself up for. The two of them liked to do things like growl out ‘faggot’ as he ate their asses in public places and would make whiny, porn star sounds when he always ended up being the one to fuck them so good his balls slapped against their taint. They were good for getting frustration out, that kind of sex that makes you sweat and grit your teeth and grunt. He’d find them when he was high strung, shove them into a bathroom stall and toss them on the can so he could fuck their throats while guys outside pretended they didn’t hear the wet noises as they pissed. It kept him level, made sure he kept that happy go lucky attitude that made him so approachable for the others. 

Stiles was probably his favorite though. A total nerd in thick rimmed glasses, always covering up his pale body in baggy clothes and stammering and licking his lips too much when Derek would massage his shoulders, asking about the latest assignment behind his back. The kid was kinky as shit, but always had to be coaxed into it. It was the closest thing to dating Derek had ever done. Starting slow with friendly chatter, plying him with shared meals, distracting him with love bites sucked into his throat and licking between all of his long, agile fingers. Stiles liked fucking Derek first, then sucking his cum out of the frat bro’s furry ass and sharing it in sticky kisses. He liked when Derek rubbed his mustache all over the inside of his thighs and right behind his balls, liked that Derek let him cum in that flavor savor so it would stick with them through the rest of their rounds. They tended to fuck like it was the end of days. Spend the whole afternoon fucking edging themselves with the talking in circles around it and then stayed up all night trading positions until their nuts ached from it. Stiles was great for when Derek wanted to get lost in it, for when he wanted to screw himself to sleep and not wake up in the musky sheets until one in the afternoon. 

Maybe one day he’ll have to figure out if he wants just one, if there’s something more behind any of it, but until he’s forced to, he just doesn’t see why he should. The guys that come to him– shaking with how hot it makes them to feel his mustache tickling their ear while hearing his rough voice growling about how they’re such good bitches, how he’s gonna breed their hairy asses so deep, how hard they make him and how heavy his nuts are with backed up spunk– they’re grateful for it, and often fistbump him when they cross paths again, bump shoulders and share toothy smiles, glad for being allowed to get it out of their system, get a much needed hit, or get some clarity after being bedded. 

He’s doing a goddamn public service and the campus loves him for it. Boyfriends can come later. For now he’s young and hung and an animal in the sheets and it’s doing him just fine. 

Chapter Text

I appreciate both the mutual thirst for more frat boy!Derek because I will never get enough of that and also the support for my need for Papa Hale/Derek because yes. 

Parent’s Day was really only supposed to be for the freshman– a way to get out of their homesickness and assure their folks that they tuition they were paying for was being put to good use. It didn’t mean that the other parents weren’t allowed to come, just that they rarely saw the need after the first time. It was so expensive to buy plane tickets or gas to drive, find a hotel, reserve tables at restaurants. 

The boys in the house looked forward to the pampering from their parents for a moment, the chance to mooch off them once again and get away with it. Scott, Derek would have thought, would be thrilled, but his mother couldn’t afford the time away from her hospital shifts and his father was out of the picture. The kid had been sullen about it all week, but Derek had found a solution within days, he just hadn’t wanted to tell him yet, was waiting for the right moment. 

Because Derek’s dad visited every Parent’s Day, hell he found time to come down every few months, event or not. He was cool like that and he loved his son, Derek knew because he’d been having it moaned, warm and possessive into his ear from as far back as he can remember. He loves his dad back, but not in the way the older man loves him. 

Balfour would tear down his own life and others’ to be with Derek. Derek would continue to let his dad fuck him until it was too big an inconvenience and then be fine with the occasional, holiday blow job. He hoped, if he ever settled down, to find a husband he could share with his dad, but if there weren’t any guys into it, well he wouldn’t be broken up over it. 

He thinks his dad knows this, and so that’s why he’s always around, always breeds Derek like he’ll never get the chance again, because he might not. They tend to spend the whole weekend locked up in some hotel room they absolutely wreck, mingling the fetid, fecund scents of father and son until they’re forced out by the approaching week day. 

Balfour has too much love for his boy, and Derek knows a boy who needs more love from a father. Problem solved. Scott’s always been a slut for daddies and Derek’s does have money and is newly single. If the way he’d latched onto Derek’s uncle was anything to go off of, Derek just might be able to free up a little of his time by getting them together. Scott wouldn’t be the worst step-dad ever and that way his dad would have a little house puppy to keep him busy, but they could still have their fun when they both wanted. 

It was easy to arrange, and something he set up right off the bat. He’d sent Scott to his room to undress and get ready for some cheering up while he went to the airport to pick up his father, and the plan was to fuck like rabbits until nightfall, when he had a date planned with one idiotic nerd he’d started taking a liking too. They’d already been fucking, but Stiles also wasn’t that bad to hang around with and he’d promised Derek if they went to dinner and a movie, he’d blow him in the back row of the theatre. 

The kid matched his perversions, was self sufficient, and had this strange ability to make Derek laugh, genuinely. Not in the way he usually did, to charm and seduce and show off, but the full thing where he snorted and doubled over and ripped a squeaker when he tried to cut off the hysterics, which only sent the both off them off the edge even harder. The idea that they might actually be boyfriends or something was both terrifying and exhilarating, like bungee jumping, and he wanted some time to figure out if he wanted to stay strapped in. 

He couldn’t exactly do that if Scott was moping about every night, needing to get his dick sucked every hour to keep from spiraling, nor with his father hounding after his ass, desperate to moan to him about how big his boy had gotten, how he’d make his perfect partner, blah, blah, blah. Like, it was hot in the moment, but Derek also knew, objectively, that it was kind of fucked up. His dad needed to get over him, and what better way than to get under another kid? 

Balfour was fondling him already on the drive back to the frat house, talking about how badly he needed a hit from his best boy, and Derek smirked, knowing Scott would upstairs, lubed up and probably fucking a pocket pussy as he waited. Scott was younger than Derek, smaller, sweeter, and more innocent. 

Legal age as he was, he could pass fifteen easily, looks and attitude, and Derek knows his dad loved him around puberty best. They’d take to each other like fish to water, and he was actually game for how hot it would be to watch his dad fuck someone else for a change. “I got you a present,” he smiles, all teeth, as they pull up and park and his dad growls at him in reply, squeezing Derek’s balls and leaning over the console to filthily make out with him, in full view of anyone passing by. 

Their facial hair tangles, their tongues mop sloppily and hot all over each other, and they groan into it, in sync from years of this pleasure. “You’ve always been such a good boy,” Bal murmurs, stroking Derek’s face and looking at him like he hung the stars. Derek snorts back at him, a little mean, and then hops out, swaggering up the curb and towards the house, workout shorts fully tented and not caring. A couple people stare and he winks at them all, gets his ass groped, loves feeling his dad’s jealousy behind him. 

The guys all pat him on the back as he walks through the house, chuckle at his boner, do elaborate handshakes with his dad, and he puts a sock on his doorknob before shutting them up in the room together. Scott is on the bed, ass up, fingers inside, a load or two already evident in the soaked sheets. 

“This is not what I was expecting.” For the first time, ever, his dad seems hesitant in the bedroom and Derek just grabs him by the shoulder and shoves him to the bed, making him collapse into Scott. 

“This is Scott. He’s a needy little bitch that needs a good daddy. You took care of me, now you can take care of him. Get to work, and don’t forget to show me your hole.” Derek hadn’t tended to take the dominant role in their relationship mostly out of habit, but he’s not been the quivering, hairless little boy that his dad first started screwing for a long time, and the guy needs to know that. Derek’s changed, he needs to get the memo. 

Scott, ever the perfect slut, just rams his ass into Bal’s face without any explanation needed and makes the older man eat it, whether he’d wanted to or not, and Derek chuckles, stepping forward to grip his dad by the back of the neck and make sure he stays put. Scott’s ass is musky as fuck, an acquired taste, but he’ll get used to it, start loving it like Derek does. 

While the older man struggles and groans, Derek roughly yanks his shorts down, noting the nice ease of access with the old jock he’s wearing underneath, and acknowledges it with a slap to the hairy, hard ass in front of him. His dad works out almost as much as he does, and though he’s got that barreled dad bod, it’s still pretty solid and firm. 

Derek spreads his cheeks and spits onto his hole, using his thumbs to rub the saliva in and start spreading. He must have been fucking himself on toys in preparation, because he’s already somewhat loose and though Derek does eventually have to move to get real lube, he gets one finger in without it, testing the warm, dry walls of his dad’s ass as he squirms, mouth too occupied to chastise Derek for being rough. 

Derek uses a condom, out of respect for Stiles. The kid likes how shameless and filthy he is, gets off on it, but Derek is keeping in mind how he wants to get sucked and knows from experience if he fucks raw, the cum will stick in his foreskin and depending on how late this runs, can turn to smeg by the time his date rolls around. 

Stiles likes him nasty, but he’d drawn the line very firmly at that weeks ago. Derek doesn’t blame him, but still, it is a bit of an inconvenience, so maybe he’ll accidentally give the boy a messy facial tonight in retribution, make him walk out of the movie with cum matted in those pretty eyelashes. Stiles gets off on humiliation. He’ll be pissed about it for twenty minutes and then want to bone down in the car before they even get home. Worth. 

He realizes he’s halfway through fucking his dad by the end of the reverie, and awkwardly pulls his old man out of Scott’s ass for the first time that night. He’d meant to do it earlier, they were probably reaching maximum levels of blue balls by now, but he doesn’t bother to apologize– just grunts for Bal to mount his buddy and show him how hard a good daddy fucks. 

Scott gets yanked harshly underneath his dad’s frame and the fuck train rolls pretty steadily from there. It takes Derek a while longer than usual to cum with the rubber on, dulling the sensation, but it gives Scott and his dad time to nut twice and his own is basically just an afterthought by then. He even manages to cut it mostly off by pinching his dick and slapping his balls at the start of it, thinking it’ll make a nice build up to plaster Stiles with later. 

“Mazeltov,” he grunts as he cleans himself off on the corner of his sheets, good enough for Stiles to not be squicked but still be hot for it. God, the things he does for this stupid kid. He tries his best to smother the smile that springs out of nowhere as he thinks about it. “You two have my blessing or whatever. Dad– Scott likes weed and concert tickets and shitty Brookstone gadgets. Scott– Dad likes booty shorts and dirty talk and to be fingered while he fucks you. Peter’s always around if you need a third. Don’t wait up.”

He’s dressed in what he thinks passes for a date outfit by the time he’s done talking and gives his hair a rough pass over in the mirror before heading out. He’s gonna buy Stiles some flowers to preemptively make up for coming in his hair tonight and find out who the guy’s roommate is to scare him off for the weekend. That freaky, little nerd is all his for the next sixty hours and he’s gonna make the most of it. 

Chapter Text

Alright, don’t hate me for it, but I’m going full AU here. Can’t help myself. 

It’s always just been them. Fuck everything and everyone else, they only needed each other. Derek had taken Stiles away from their shitty lives the day after his mother died, and the boy had been all too happy to go. Derek’s parents were already gone and it seemed like, whether or not it was their choice, this was the way it had always meant to be. 

It was hard, for a while, taking care of themselves. Stiles was only twelve and Derek was only sixteen, but they managed to stay gone and alive and, most importantly, in love. They lost their virginity to each other the week that they ran away, Derek bending over for his sweet, little boy, still scared for hurting him no matter how badly Stiles said he wanted it. 

Things had only gone up from there– from the two of them nearly sobbing as they fucked in a truck stop restroom, clinging to each other so tightly they left bruises in the skin. These were happier days now, more concrete ones for them to enjoy. 

They both had steady jobs, had a home together, GED’s and an unofficially shared last name. They belong to each other and the world was just background noise, just an in between for the time they got to be together. That time was spent naked, fucking at a near constant rate, needing to always be that close. 

They were nearly desperate for it when they had been apart for more than a few hours, often having to meet up at lunch breaks and during the lulls of closing time to find a changing room or supply closet or back alley to take their time in. Everything zeroed down to just their skin, their breath, and their pulses as they moved together, not caring for the sounds of others around them, the dank smells of hidey holes, the threat of being caught and put out. 

They had before, multiple times, but there were always new jobs, new communities, new almost-friends to put up with them for a time. Until the cum stains were found or their moaning got too loud or they just stopped caring and started pulling down pants with an audience. 

The yelling and the shoving and the anger afterwards was simply met with their conspiratorial laughter, continued touching, long looks. It felt good, not to need anyone else but themselves. It was easy and thrilling and kept them from staying anywhere too long, starting to stagnate. 

They’d always got away with it too, never had the cops called or punches thrown or anything else that would take the fun from it. Maybe it was because they were young, and everyone found their unmanageable love endearing. Maybe it was because they were gay and no one wanted to risk the words “hate crime” being thrown around. Maybe it was pity. 

That was the only one that stung. 

But they moved past it quick enough, off to somewhere new, onto another semi public surface. The only time anything ever came of it was in a locker room. Substitute teaching was a job that always had a demand and they could be charming enough to pull off the interviews pretty successfully. Plus it was so short term, they never risked getting black listed for their behavior because they were only ever around for a few days. 

Derek was playing at coach for a while, Stiles a chemistry professor, and they’d already had plenty of sniggering sex while roleplaying as the jock and the nerd. But Stiles had wanted to be taken in the locker rooms, a fantasy of eating Derek’s ass out in a jockstrap spurring him on to say yes. They waited until the night of a game, Derek excused himself away, and met his love amidst the piles of used cups, sweaty socks, and school jerseys. 

The hormones were fucking overpowering in here and it didn’t take long for them to get several rounds in, lose track of time covered in each others’ sweat and saliva and spunk. The boys jogged in after a victory to two of their teachers fucking like animals– Derek hunched over Stiles, balls deep, cum leaking from his own hairy asshole as he pounded away. 

They didn’t stop for them, they’d never made a point of it before, but instead of being forcefully separated and told to get ahold of themselves, the boys started to undress, circle around them. Hard, slender boy cocks were shoved against their skin, in their mouths and asses. Some just jerked off and watched, others spat filthy words at them, one even pissed down their backs. 

They ate it up, continued to make out with each other, moan each others’ names, switch positions and cum and cum again, lost in how much they needed to be together. The coating of a dozen other kids’ boy spunk was just more lube for them to use, more stimulus to reach higher heights with each other. 

They were matted with it by the time their balls ached, empty, and the team rubbed it in with their sweaty feet. Stiles and Derek just lied back and let them, smiling at each other as they tangled fingers, pecked sweetly at the others’ lips. There was a group shower after and no one commented when their teachers joined on in. 

Maybe they could stay here a little longer than usual. 

Chapter Text

~Le sigh~ You guys really aren’t gonna leave these prompts alone any time soon, are ya? Haha, I never kink shame, but I gotta say, I think I have different taste in DILF’s than most of you because Linden Ashby and also Joe Manganiello just don’t do it for me on any conceivable level. Like I can see where people are coming from on Linden, but just am not so inclined myself, but I honestly wouldn’t even do Joe with a bag over his head. The guy looks like a giant foot. :P *shakes head slowly*

But don’t say that I don’t love any of you, because here we go.

It definitely wasn’t the first time that John had brought the kid in and he was sure that it wouldn’t be the last. Derek had been the kind of boy that was always cling to his mother’s legs, that murmured little ‘please’ and ‘thank you’s’, and that took instructions from adults with grave seriousness. 

But that was before the fire. 

It had been spiraling ever since, starting with skipping out on his parents’ funeral, escalating to vandalism, and ending tonight in a street race that the sheriff had stopped. He let the other car go, trying to make sure he caught sight of their license plate, but his attention was much more focused on the sleek black Camaro that he knew all too well. 

Derek had a half dozen parking and speeding tickets and had been slammed with fines that the sheriff knew his older sister couldn’t afford all on her own, trying to pay to keep food in the house for the three Hales left. Yet, he didn’t seem to ever be phased by the next biggest, badder thing that got marked on his record. He wouldn’t be a minor for much longer and soon these charges would stick harder, would be permanent. 

John wished he knew a way to break through the thick veil of sadness and anger that hung around the teen, but everything he’d tried up to now had slid right off. Everything he had tried until now had been calm and collected and kind. He’d been trying to be the boy’s friend, had been wanting to come at him from a place of forgiveness and understanding. 

But maybe that’s not what Derek needed. John never really approved of these sorts of tactics, or even their terminology, but as the last of his deputies cleared out of the station for the night, and he feigned having paperwork for the delinquent in the holding cells just outside his office, he considered the merits of scaring Derek straight. 

With a heavy sigh, but a clear conscience, John turned out almost all the lights in the building, slid his belt out of his uniform pants, and made his way over to the cells. Derek was sitting with his head down on the sparse cot, picking at the threadbare sheets and scuffing his shoes on the floor. 

“I don’t know what I’m gonna do with you kid. The town’s pity only stretches so far.” He says it with a disappointed sort of weariness, like there’s nothing else to expect from Derek anymore. 

The boy’s spine snaps straight, his muscles tensing as his hands clench into fists. “I didn’t ask for any pity.”

“Good, because you won’t be getting any in county jail. The people there don’t give a shit about a little pipsqueak like you, playing at being a bad ass. They’ll be sure to teach you the kind of lesson I could never get through your thick head.” John paces a little in front of the bars before clipping his keys off his hip, unlocking Derek’s cell, moving quietly inside. 

He makes his body take up a lot of room, places himself in front of the main source of light, closes the heavy metal door with a clang of finality. “It would be cruel not to prepare you for it.”

Derek looks up at him with confused eyes, furrowed brows, and John takes that moment to leap forward. He’s got the boys wrists twisted behind his back before Derek can even make a noise of surprise, and then he’s tying them together with his belt, not caring if the leather or buckle dig into his skin. 

John bends him forward when he starts to struggle, slams his shoulder up against the bars at his growled out, “What the fuck?”

“You think you’re tough, boy? There’s men bigger and meaner than me that will find your petulant ass a pretty meal. Nothing better than putting a braggart in his place and getting yourself serviced at the same time.” He kicks at Derek’s ankles to get him to spread his legs wide, slaps at his thighs and shoves a knee in his ass to make him jerk forward, make room. 

John can hold him prone with just one arm, their grunts of exertion bouncing off each other as they start to sweat with the effort of holding his stalemate. Derek’s pants are loose, baggy like the punk he is, and it doesn’t take much maneuvering to get them down around his knees. His ass is hairy and full, shaking with just the right mixture of muscle and fat. John smacks at it to watch the flesh reverberate as he chuckles. 

Derek is groaning, putting up just enough of a struggle to make John work for it, but not to escape. He lets it continue for just a little longer, just to let the boy wring himself out before fishing his dick out of his fly, not bothering to undress. “You’re so eager to get yourself put away and be somebody’s bitch? I’ll give you your first lesson, break you in. It’s a kindness, really.”

He gathers up a generous amount of saliva on his tongue before roughly spreading Derek open and then hawking his spit right onto the boy’s hole. It slaps onto the skin with a lewd thwap before slowly starting to run down his taint. John watches it for a moment before stepping forward to stick his cockhead right below the trail, letting it ooze down to meet his hot flesh before dragging it back up, gathering it around his dick and then teasing Derek’s virgin hole with the slicked up pressure. 

“I’m gonna be nice, go slow, but that’s all the prep a little shit like you gets.” Derek only thrashes once before going lax and groaning through gritted teeth as the sheriff starts pushing slowly inside him, centimeter by centimeter. He’s hot and tight and John can see his hard, uncut cock dripping pre from its foreskin as he gets deeper and deeper. “Looks like you’ll be good at this, a real natural.”

His voice is thin by the time he bottoms out and his hands are shaking, but Derek has stopped fighting, keeps his legs spread like a good boy, squeaks and moans when the sheriff slaps his ass or thighs or swinging sack. John only pulls out halfway to spit another wad of lube on his cock once more before fucking Derek mostly dry, feeling his own balls draw tight at the intense friction and tight channel. 

It’s only about ten minutes of muted, rough fucking, and Derek cums all over his own shoes before the sheriff is ready to shoot. He pulls out to spin the boy around and paint the front of his shirt and face with his thick spunk. It’s been a while since he had a decent fuck and the nut is copious enough to mat. 

“I’ll call your sister in the morning. Try to behave yourself until then or I’ll tell Parish to come in early and give you another lesson, got it?” Derek nods his head minutely as he wipes at his eyes, sniffling. He hasn’t pulled his pants up yet and John doesn’t do it for him as he turns to leave, threading his belt back through the loops. 

He locks the cell, turns out everything but the emergency lights, and smirks as he hears Derek start to masturbate with their combined mess before he leaves the station. 

Chapter Text

Stiles wasn’t sure what it was that spurred Derek on or what exactly the goal was, but he didn’t find it much hardship to watch as his boyfriend settled back into a new routine of workouts. After Derek had given up his alpha status and Beacon Hills had settled into a somewhat less chaotic norm, he’d stopped feeling the need to feed his hyper vigilance and Stiles had found great pleasure in feeding him junk food via his own mouth. 

Derek no longer felt the threat to need an extreme battle bod, and quite secretly found great pleasure in being baby birded on the couch during Netflix marathons, and so it had taken a bit, but somehow, he’d gotten chubby. All the ice cream and pizza and reubens had taken their toll and he supposed he just hadn’t notice because Stiles only got hotter for him as it happened. 

The kid fuckin’ loved his extra dough, worshiped his body just as relentlessly as before, and could often be found staring at him like he wanted to rip his clothes off right that very second. Derek loved that, and he loved being slightly slovenly boyfriends together. He got that it was probably because Stiles was a young college student at this point, but something just felt homey about the way they mowed through boxes of HotPockets together while spending an entire weekend playing video games, and then consoled each other through the horrid diarrhea afterwards. He liked finding reasons to sleep till noon, to lick chocolate off each others’ bodies, to have lazy, lethargic sex that was mostly just kissing while they dry humped. 

It felt domestic and wonderful in a way he’d never gotten to experience and he was really happy with it. Plus, with his werewolf genes, Stiles did like to complain about how unfair it was that he got a flabby pooch and Derek just got some sexy dad bod. Him putting on weight came differently, his body simply couldn’t help but convert some of it to muscle. So Stiles got Freshman fifteen doughy, while Derek got Football linebacker thick. 

They teased each other about it, but were so hot for each other’s extra meat, the insults were practically foreplay. It had seemed that it would just be their new equilibrium until he was hanging out with Stiles and some of his new college friends. They’d wanted to meet the man that took up so much of his free time and attention, the legendary boyfriend himself, and in Stiles’ gushing, they’d been flipping through selfies for a good twenty minutes now. 

Derek was smiling softly, arm thrown round Stiles’ shoulder, nursing a shitty beer, and reminiscing about how badly he didn’t want to want Stiles as badly as he did. He wasn’t even paying much attention until one of the guys queued in with a, “Wow Stilinski, way to domesticate the sex beast. You give him that spare tire so no one would try to steal him away?” The kid was an ass and everyone in the group told him so, but Derek’s good mood had immediately vanished. 

Had he really let himself go that much? Did Stiles feign finding him sexy like this? Did he seem even more out of the kid’s league now? What if– what if Stiles thought he was a gross slob and was actually looking for someone who could take care of themselves and he left Derek for one of those frat bros that are how he used to be– eight pack, waxed smooth, a perfect, plastic specimen?

The next day he’d gotten up early despite Stiles’ protests, dug through the back of his closet to find a jockstrap, some running shorts, and basketball shoes, and though the former too were a bit way too tight to be decent, he went out for a run. He hated the way it made his heart pound like he was trying to escape from something again, he hated the flashbacks it made him have, and the way he couldn’t keep from glancing over his shoulder over and over and listening intently to every step around him, every breath and heartbeat, looking for the predator that would take him down. 

But he completed a fairly ambitious circuit, brought back green smoothies instead of the ham and cheese croissants they were used to indulging on for bought breakfasts, and ignored Stiles’ confused looks as he accompanied Derek’s chugging of the thick stuff. Somehow, even with a completely opposite food choice, they still ended up coaching each other through the runs. Typical. 

Derek had been diligently at it for a week now, telling himself that the reason Stiles was jumping him so frequently was because he was pleased that Derek was putting in effort again, though a little voice inside of him kept yelling for him to get over himself, pay attention, and see that it was just the kid, hot for his husky frame in these tiny workout clothes. That’s the possibility Derek wanted to believe, but he’d stopped himself being stupidly optimistic for some time now. 

He tries to ignore Stiles watching him work out, works through all the horrible burn by promising sex with him afterwards as a reward. It was pretty hot and usually worth the trauma he endured. Stiles thought he was sexy as fuck all sweaty and musky and flushed and panting and would lick Derek’s pits and suck his sore tits and spend long, long minutes laving at his sweaty balls and eating out his hairy ass. 

Derek tended to get half hard the second he put on the athletic gear and by the time he made it to the little gym space he’d cleared out for himself in his loft, was leaking pre through his jock like crazy. Stiles always eyed his obscene bulge like an animal, waiting to pounce, and Derek couldn’t help putting on a show for him, making his squats jut his fat ass out more, letting his shirt flip up over his belly and not bothering to put it back down, spreading his legs much wider than necessary as he did bench presses. 

It was while he was doing just some standard curls as a warm up that Stiles finally broke the unsaid rules and came into the room with him, standing over Derek on the bench and turning around before backing himself up. “What are you doing?” Derek tried not to chuckle at the way Stiles squirmed to get himself positioned over Derek’s lap, trying his best not to trip over the wide, heavy metal of the workout bench. 

“Incentivising you.” The kid smirked before dropping trow, showing Derek that he was freeballing, and bending at the waist. His pale, creamy, soft ass was just hanging there, speckled and luscious and Derek’s dick was already pushing out his waistband. He moaned softly as he flopped back against the padded leather before rushing back up, feeling his stomach muscles twinge at the speed. But he ignored them because sitting up meant burying his face in those lush cheeks and he shook his head like a damn dog to practically motorboat that sexy thing. 

But before he could burrow down deeper and tongue that tight, pink, little bud that he loved to lick, Stiles reached behind himself and shoved Derek back to the mat by his head. “Again,” he smirked, jiggling his ass to assuage the little, hurt look on Derek’s face. So this was how it was gonna be. Derek crossed his arms over his chest, hooked his calves behind the restraint bars, and used just his core to propel himself back into his boyfriend’s ass. Stiles moaned and grinding back against him and Derek scraped his teeth across whatever flesh he could reach before falling back. 

He went back again and again. Licking, kissing, blowing, moaning, and sometimes just resting in the plush of it as he panted and tried to spur himself to more. “Alright there big guy, let’s not tear anything.” Stiles finally waddled away with his shorts around his ankles before pushing Derek back one last time. He helped the older boy out of his own shorts and jock before straddling him again, this time face to face. “Let’s put all that prep and foreplay to proper use, ya?”

Derek nodded minutely, still trying to catch his breath, sweaty and achy, and not having realized he did about a hundred more sit ups than he had planned just because he got lost in the sex of it. But Stiles seemed to see his fatigue as he took the reins, holding Derek’s hard dick still as he seated himself on it and then started to ride it slow and sinfully, making sure Derek felt every inch of him as he rolled his hips and bounced up and down. 

His long, firm hands roamed all over Derek’s torso, massaging the little aches, playing with the matted hair, groping. Derek moaned and tossed his head back and let his boyfriend have everything he wanted as his heavy balls jerked and his thighs spasmed. All the teasing left him on edge and it didn’t take long for him to cum in Stiles’ ass, holding loosely onto his hips and groaning, leaving his soft dick inside as the boy started fucking his own chubby, plump cock against Derek’s belly, sliding it in the sweat and pre, getting apparently all the friction he needed as he trapped it against Derek’s barrel body with a firm thumb and frotted himself to release. 

Derek chuckled softly and smirked at the mess painted all down his torso and watched with contented arousal as Stiles spread it into his skin, working it in with the glisten of his exertion. “Gross. I’m gonna reek.”

Stile shrugged, chewing his lip softly as he continued to touch Derek, not moving to get the soft length out of him, or find a gym towel to clean them up. “Ya, but we both know we like that…. don’t we?” He didn’t look at Derek as he murmured it, head kept down, but it didn’t hide the little croak of his voice or the humming bird pace of his heart. 

They had spent many a marathon weekend doing anything but an ode to that physical triumph. Usually that meant mowing through seasons of one show, fucking till their balls ached, and ordering a pizza the size of a manhole that sustained them through it all. It was a torrid affair as they only left the couch for the toilet and they were grubby and bloated and sex soaked by the time Monday rolled around. Derek loved that. 

It was nice to curl up in their combined scents, unfiltered by heavy soaps and colognes, luxuriate in the ripeness of their mating, and to finally feel comfortable enough around someone that he totally let his guard down. It was a dumb thing, but the day Derek found out Stiles found his sleep farts endearing was the day Derek knew he was in love. He’d only ever been wanted for his power or as a trophy and here was this kid that still found him sexy and charming and wonderful after he’d spent the night getting hotboxed. 

Derek fought through the diminishing ache (thank god for werewolf healing) to sit up and curl his arms around Stiles, brows furrowed, mouth hanging open. “Of course. I love you, every way.” Derek hugged Stiles tight, nearly crushing him with it, and pressed his mouth to the join of his shoulder and neck. 

“I’m being stupid, I’m sorry. I just– I thought we were both–. I mean, I was never gonna be able to not look like the guy you settled for, but now I’m like the poster boy for beer belly and you’re gonna be crazy smoking like usual, and I know everyone on campus is gonna think, how the fuck did that happen? And I know you’re just doing this for you, and I think that’s amazing–”

Derek pulled Stiles away before he could really get going and shut him up with a kiss, unable to keep himself from all out grinning and laughing softly, even as Stiles sniffled and wiped at his eyes and pouted for Derek to shut up. The tension was already gone, Stiles knowing if Derek was happy, then there wasn’t a reason for him to be upset. “I’m only doing this because I thought you were getting fed up with it. Your friend, he–. I wanted to be the kind of guy you’re so proud to show off.”

“You still are, you dolt!” Stiles shook his head as he smack Derek on the chest, face flushed in embarrassment, but laughing along now. “Kyle is a fucking dick and I wasn’t showing off those pictures because I wanted them to see your old bod or something. I’m happy with us, like this. You know how cuddleable you were back then? 3/10! I think you’re sexier than ever and now also my Der-bear and I don’t feel like the gross barnacle on your side.” 

Derek shakes his head, pulling Stiles down to kiss him while groping his full ass as he does. “If I’m not allowed to be self conscious then you aren’t either.” 

“Just as long as we still get to occasionally have sweaty sex because… rawr.” Stiles ducked his head as he kissed the crease of Derek’s armpit and ground their crotches together. 

“You’re gross,” Derek laughed, hugging him tight. 

We’re gross.” 

“I know.”

Chapter Text

Derek was a family man, raised in a large family and aching for it since the tragedy that befell him, he always knew that he wanted it back. He’d thought that the way to it was the classic story– meet a nice girl, settle down, wait for the right time, and hope the stars align to bless him with a healthy litter of kids. 

He was too young to have been taught the more… primal aspects of his wolf, the carnal ways in which it would affect him. Sure he’d been an incredibly horny teenager, but he’d thought that was just the usual batch of hormones. He had no idea that his wolf played a part, that him masturbating five times a day and trading fucks with whoever was down was exorbitant. He didn’t know it was his biology telling him he was already ready to breed. 

And now he’s learning even more new things– how the alpha status doesn’t just involve power dynamics, how his bitten wolves are sired to him, how he’s changed their bodies in more ways than he ever knew. Isaac is mewling, nearly in pain, as Derek rubs the cantaloupe sized swell of his stomach, nuzzling his beard against the boy’s irritated chest, lapping at his leaking tits. 

He can feel the squirm of at least three pups inside and it makes him rumble in great contentment. They’d fucked a couple months ago, when spring came and Derek could smell the boy’s dick and ass from clear across the loft. It’s like Isaac’s body was calling to him, and neither of them could ignore it for long, giving in to let Derek brutally rail him for days on end. 

At the end of it, Isaac had been cleaning alpha cum out of his ass for hours, never able to reach it all for Derek’s considerable length and the knot that had held it in several times to soak. Derek’s wolf stopped calling to him, knowing he was pupped, and turned the alpha to another boy, getting him to stalk to Scott’s house before the day was even over. His dick was still sticky and he hadn’t even showered Isaac’s sex off of him yet. 

The sheer concentration of pheromones had Scott on his knees by the time Derek was in his bedroom. And so it went, for an entire month of spring, Derek visiting the young, virile boys of Beacon Hills for days at a time, wrecking their reedy bodies, tight boy cunts, virginal wombs. 

He’d been dating Stiles at the time, but hadn’t seen his human boyfriend once, to busy deep dicking all of his friends over and over again. He was expecting the worst from it, waited to be told never to speak to the teen again, but Stiles just asked what they were all like, how Derek fucked them, the size of their junk and consistency of their jizz and taste of their asses. 

Stiles got his own long weekend of marathon sex, and though he would be the only one left without child, it was just as rewarding. The news came as soon as the boys started to show. Everyone had just thought they were getting chubby at the same time, enabling bad habits in each other, maybe finding a nesting comfort in a settled pack dynamic. 

But their bellies didn’t stop growing, their tits got sticky and sore, their hormones rocketed, and suddenly they were back to square one, begging Derek for his dick, secreting the most luscious, fetid scents to lure him in. They were his brood pups, carrying litters of new Hales, an entire generation, and they needed to be bred by the father again. 

Stiles lets it happen, on only one condition. He’s the only one that owns Derek’s ass and fucking doesn’t happen unless he’s around. And so the alpha gets to be the center of a screw train a couple times a day, taking it from his teenage boyfriend as he makes sure his baby mama’s get their fix of his virile seed. 

He luxuriates is Stiles’ cum soaking into his skin, Scott and Isaac and Liam’s milk sweet and musky on his tongue, all of them waddling around his loft, hefting the weight of multiples of his children. They all sleep in a heap together, a room in the loft filled with nothing but pillows and blankets for them to lounge together on. They’re soaked in sweat and cum and milk and Derek knows this is where he’ll deliver his children with his own hands. 

As soon as his kids are clean and fed and taking their first rest, he’ll get back to work, filling those loose holes all over again.

Chapter Text

To call it a tradition would make it sound homier that it actually is, would imply that there’s a tender softness to the event. It starts in the spring, after the first storm that brings solely rain. The fields are still wet with it, the air alive and fresh with ozone, and all the young boys are vibrating in their skin. The omegas are excuse to stay home, leaving puddles in their wake and presenting to anyone that might brush a hand over their skin. They tend to huddle in groups, in basements, nesting in down comforters and lumpy pillows to writhe and sweat and den together. 

All the alpha boys talk about it at school, voices thin and chest heaving as they throw around ideas of what it might be like, watching each other’s cocks twitch at the lewd ideas, even sometimes reaching out to touch one another, kiss if it gets too exciting. They imagine them like opium dens, with the boys feverish and strung out, glassy eyed and incoherent with their lust. 

It’s easy to egg each other on to obscene levels of arousal, talking about how they must push fingers into each other, suck the copious amounts of slick off, soak the sheets in that tangy omega smell that permeates their locker rooms. It’s ironic how horny they make themselves doing it, shoving hands against one anothers’ crotches to feel it, to grind against, to bare teeth and sneer and snap. 

Alphas’ group sexuality isn’t like omegas’. Omegas are happy to intermingle, to explore each other, to luxuriate in their heats and spend the time milking orgasms from each other in lethargic contentedness. For alphas it’s a game, a competition, something to win status and pride and dominance over. Making another alpha quake and cum in his jeans is to own that boy, to have the claim to breed him like a bitch if you wanted, and so this time of year, that is why omegas are left at home to love, and the alphas are brought out to be managed. 

They need to be watched, to make sure it doesn’t go far, that there’s no damage and no one is abused by the animal instincts inside of them. When the sun is at its highest, the air nearly warm, the sticky humidity of spring threatening to come around, they’re let out into the yards, told to exhaust themselves. 

It starts simply, innocently. Baseball and tag and roughhousing until they start to sweat, until they get breathless and their adrenaline pumps into their veins. The rush of competition is enough to ignite the simmering heat in their bodies and it doesn’t take long before the boys are stripping, snarling, succulent. 

The cool, fresh air doesn’t take long to become saturated with their pheromones. Their sweat and precome, piss and grunge, saliva and blood. A small measure of the pride is taken out of it because they know they will all succumb and their professors will watch as it happens, but that doesn’t stop the struggle to find out if you’ll be humping your friend’s hairy ass, or clawing the ground as you try not to let them know how much you love getting a small knot ground against your own. 

It’s not like with omegas, where they’re perfectly happy admitting a fluid sexuality and appreciation for all arousal. They’re so forward, so open, so carefree. Derek wonders if they compete with any instincts at all sometimes. He wants to be more like them, wants to just enjoy himself and be content knowing he was pleasured and so was his partner, but alphas are just genetically programmed not to let it go, to put up fronts and pretend they don’t find each others’ fur, muscle, bulge, and funk as hot as the omega lushness. 

Derek could honestly sniff Scott’s balls and foreskin for hours, would happily eat musky alpha ass as often as silken omega, fingers himself when he masturbates, and loves being coated in salty, ripe cum. He tries to avoid the fray for as long as he can, not sure how he’s going to react to it. 

He watches his friends and classmates as they bite and scratch, chase and tackles, suck and fuck. They’re all so sexy, young and virile and dominant. He wants to stroke their asses and taste their dicks and knot them while they tie in his mouth. He’s alone against the fence for a while, bottomless and panting, stroking himself as he observes them, as though he’s one of the adults. He threads his fingers through his thick pubes, rims them underneath his foreskin, around his sticky cockhead, tugs at the low, heavy hang of his nuts, letting them swing and slap at his thighs, and parts his sweaty ass cheeks to rub at his hole, groaning as his head lolls at the sheer weight of his own need. 

But no one can stay out of it for long. A little pack of alpha boys smaller than him prowl over, move as a unit, maybe thinking if they work together, they can take him down and share his body as spoils. Scott’s one of them. Derek knows he’s wanted his ass for years, probably his own fault for the way he flaunts it, enjoys watching Scott thirst. Still, he needs to be taught a lesson about his place. 

It takes little effort. Derek feels admiring eyes on him as he does it. Three other boys, whimpering and showing their stomachs and bloody from him. He grabs Scott by the throat first, pushes him into the dirt, snaps at his crooked jaw, and then sits on his face. His friend struggles and slaps at his fat ass, thick thighs for a moment, but the intense rank of him settles into his nose soon enough, and then he’s just licking like an animal, teething and growling, and Derek rolls his hips into it. 

He lets Scott get him fully hard that way and then drags the next one, Theo, over to straddle Scott’s chest with him. The idiot thinks he’s being rewarded, starts rubbing his cock on Scott’s chin, pisses in his crotch to claim him. Derek has to yank his hair hard enough to make him whimper to get the sneer off his face as he starts rubbing his cock against the kid’s asshole. Theo tenses and struggles, but doesn’t put in any meaningful effort to get away, and so Derek continues, lifting one of his arms to sniff and lick at his ripe, furry pit as he does. 

Liam is last, waited patiently for Derek to find a use for him, was clearly put up to it. He’s stacked, but short, so square has intense angers, but is sweet and a little dim. Derek sees the struggle against instincts in him more than anyone else, and sympathizes. He drags the kid over by the back of his thigh, rubs his face along his tacky belly and mashes his face into his musk groin. Liam moans and runs his hands through Derek’s hair, but doesn’t push or hump. He knows who is in control. 

Derek licks the creases of his thighs, sucks his swollen sack, nurses the tip of his dick as he continues to ride Scott’s mouth, fuck Theo’s hole. There’s no knotting between them, but they’re coated in each others’ scents by the end of the day– body hair matted by spit and piss and enough cum to make their skin stick together with it. 

Once their minds are clear, they’re given the opportunity to use the gym showers to rid themselves of it. Those ashamed of the position they ended up in usually do. Derek and his boys do not. 

Chapter Text

It’s a need– that’s all he sees it as. Like needing to use the restroom, to sleep, to eat. Derek simply has a biological imperative to fuck good and hard and dirty every few days that he can’t leave unattended. Otherwise he gets antsy, distracted, irritated, and no one enjoys that from their alpha wolf. 

The whole pack can tell when he hasn’t gotten any, and the ones who know the underlying cause, encourage him to go out that night, where a v-neck that’s obscenely low, jeans that cup his round ass, no briefs. It’s easier to concede that way, to say that he’s not doing it because he’s an overly sexual person, but because he needs laser focus to help out the kids he’s in charge of, and this is a surefire way to do that. 

It’s a flimsy thing, but it’s enough to help Derek get over the self consciousness that tends to keep him away for the longer periods of time. It wasn’t a problem when he was a kid– the hottest kid in school that was very openly generous with his free time. He doesn’t know, really, if he was the butt of the jokes back then, or if everyone was as good natured about it as he remembers, but he bedded nearly a dozen people in the small space between losing his virginity and— when everything changed. 

He hadn’t been ashamed of it then. He’d been taught his whole life that his body and his natural instincts were freeing, wonderful things. He’d wanted to share those things with people who appreciated them, and when he did, it felt good. So maybe he was slutty by nature, but he was taught never to hide away from the truth of himself. 

He was still steps away from that now, but getting closer all the time, needing less and less pretends and getting able to look himself and admit in the mirror what he wants. It’s why he let himself lose so much of that posturing bulk he’d first gained as alpha, let himself get wildly scruffy again, act childish and be happy when he felt it. 

So when Derek gets into Jungle, he lets himself stalk the men that make his dick twitch, flirt shamelessly, dance like he’s looking to fuck, bite peoples’ ears, run his hands over their hips, grind his chubbed cock where they can feel it. He never chooses someone right away, doesn’t just walk in to hit the glory holes likes some others. 

He likes the play of it, likes to get his heart pounding, his skin sweaty, his voice hoarse, and his foreskin sticky with his low grade arousal. It’s so easy to let it simmer, to luxuriate in this heady space where he’s in half a trance, just doing whatever keeps the thrumming in his body steady. All the boys in here know the sensation well. 

This beat, this thrall falls over the club every night, as soon as the sun goes down and everyone’s had a drink or two. They move as one, a people, in a time honored tradition. It’s a fucking mating dance and they all let the animal in to pull it off. Rough hands, sharp teeth, low growls. They body each other, struggle for dominance, entice and seduce, playing a game of cat and mouse that spans across the building, through partners, across the night. 

It’s a smug thing, but Derek tends to fall at the top of the food chain, and he knows it. Some nights he loves the ease of it, the low pressure and pick of the litter. He’ll pick the mousy boys in overlarge clothes that blink at him with doe eyes, but suck his cock like they were bred for it. Some nights he finds someone that wants to put him in his place, that pushes him against the brick in the back alley and fucks him raw. 

No matter what he picks, he rarely feels challenged, like that person is on his level. He’s just picking a style, choosing to be treated how he wants. Always top dog, always alpha wolf. Until tonight. 

He’s used to being the center of the crowd, the main attraction on the dance floor. Boys fight to be around him, to slide their hands under his clothes, to pull his forehead to theirs and breathe him in. But when he gets in, there’s already another being worshiped, being coveted. 

He tries to draw eyes to him, but it seems he only ever makes himself a distraction until there’s a new opening. It makes him frustrated, makes him angry, makes him horny. Pushing through the crowd is still easy, cutting his way through people that couldn’t be stronger than him even if they were gym bunnies spending their precious time away from the dead weights getting dicked. But he freezes when he reaches the spotlight, when his match is made known.  

Stiles is at the center of this world, shining bright as any sun. His hair is a mess, wet with sweat and pushed in a half dozen directions from his own hands or maybe even everyone else’s. He’s wearing wedges that make him tower over most everyone there– black leather gladiator straps drawing your eye up his long, fuzzy legs to the meat of his thighs. 

They’re exposed, so much lush flesh and thin skin, dotted with moles and looking poised to bite. Every inch is on display for the little, iridescent booty shorts that cling to the creases of his thighs, hem folded right under the globes of his asscheeks, so sheer they hardly count as cover. They’re nowhere near as meaty as Derek’s but they bounce when he moves, at a counter to the shake of his thick thighs and make him look nothing if not obscene. 

His bulge is much the same, small but effective, clear outlines of both his dick and balls pushed against the material. He’s wearing a black tanktop that would be simple, except for the band of mesh starting just below his sternum that shows off his darkly furred belly, his spotted back and the dimples just above his ass. 

When he spins, the light glints off the dangle of his chandelier earrings– bright gold with dark, sanguine gemstones. He’s done his eyes in a smoky, glittering copper that makes them glow, makes him look almost otherworldly, and Derek’s breath catches when they meet his own. 

Stiles’ gaze sticks, but he doesn’t stop dancing. The boys grinding on him, groping him, licking his neck don’t seem to notice that his attention has been drawn decidedly elsewhere, but they also don’t seem to particularly mind. Derek’s dick pulses in his jeans when Stiles’ affected placidity melts into an inebriated smirk, drunk off the attention. 

One of the boys wraps an arm around his back, over his chest, tries to tilt his head away by his chin. He wants Stiles’ eyes on him, a kiss into his parted mouth, and uncaring for the crowd, Derek uses his preternatural speed to make sure that doesn’t happen. Stiles’ eyes glitter at the aggressive move, chest and eyes fluttering in unison at Derek’s possessiveness when he pushes the man completely off. 

He lets Derek loop an arm around his waist, haul him close, press their groins together and do more humping than dancing. He throws his head back and laughs, cantankerous and lovely as Derek snuffles at his throat, taking advantage of their temporary height difference to do something he’s always wanted. He licks and sucks and bites at the hollow, getting Stiles to gasp and clutch at his shoulders, slide his hands up to grip at Derek’s hair and tug rudely. 

Derek grunts at it, liking the sting, and bares his teeth just a little when he gets yanked away. He’s pacified instantly by Stiles’ lips on his, Stiles’ tongue in his mouth, Stiles’ long, firm fingers wrapped around his throat. He whines into it, Stiles pushing a knee between his thighs, using his free hand to shove in the back of Derek’s pants, groping him in public. 

He’s not sure if the kiss is only moments, or if they’ve been breathing into each other for an entire set list, but eventually he’s hard enough his cockhead has pushed out his waistband and is on full display for the crowd to see– foreskin still pulled over it, but drooling precum. Stiles sees it and runs a single finger around the crown, pushing beneath the hood for just a moment, gathering the slick on the pad. 

In full view, he rubs the musky liquid into his lips, like a gloss, and chuckles as he licks at it. Derek, and everyone else, is left staring when he starts to saunter to the bathrooms, thumbs pushing into his booty shorts, sliding them slowly down as he approaches. Just before he walks through the door, his entire ass is on show, and before anyone else can rush to claim it, Derek is chasing after, unbuttoning his jeans to let his cock flop free, everyone seeing he’s the alpha male that will claim this prize. 

When he gets in, Stiles has already hopped up on a sink, shorts hanging off one leg, small, satiny thong inside, and he’s pulled his knees to his chest. His hole is covered by soft, dark hair, and his fingers are brushing over it as he waits, several other men watching with interested eyes, one even running a hand up and down Stiles’ thigh. 

Derek growls as he practically hip checks the man aside, makes eye contact with him as he grips his own exposed cock– hard and wet– and rubs it all over Stiles’ ass, leaving trails of his shiny slick over the flesh and fur. The guy glares at him, but doesn’t move to fight for it, and with a huff, Derek turns back to his prize, locking eyes with Stiles as he drops his jeans just below his ass, letting his heavy, loose balls flop out before he lines up. 

The kid is already prepped, he can see the tackiness of his hole as he plays with it, and Stiles hooks a finger inside to pull it wide to Derek’s initial push is easy. He walks it in, not stopping until his thick bush is flush with Stiles’ ass, his arms braced on the porcelain propping Stiles up, leaning over him. 

Derek doesn’t care that there’s four or five men watching them, most jacking their dicks to the sight, wondering if they can drift near to palm his nuts, finger his ass, make Stiles suck their tips while it happens. He stares into Stiles’ eyes as he ruts hard enough to make their skin slap, to have his balls swing and smack against his ass, to make himself sweat and Stiles slide further and further back against the mirror until his shoulders are smashed and he’s actively pushing against the wall to keep from being folded in half. 

The kid’s cock is short, but plump– pink and pretty and wet against his belly, matting his treasure trail as he’s getting reamed. Derek makes up his mind to lick it clean as soon as he makes Stiles cum, and without meaning to, he’s telling him that. 

Stiles groans at it, clenches tighter around him, reaches back to dig his fingers into Derek’s fat, furry ass to usher him deeper, slapping it make him fuck harder. “Share it with me, big guy? Wanna taste myself on your tongue.” Derek’s pulse is pounding in his ears, his skin feels tight and electric, his mouth is hung open around his buck teeth as he’s panting. 

“C’mon boy, give it to me.” Stiles is smirking, even as his head keeps banging against the wall, his stretched asshole on display for anyone that wants a peek, his peachy balls bouncing with the force of Derek’s thrusts. He can hear himself grunting with the effort, hips jackrabbiting, muscles flexing, ass clenched and spine curved and arms shaking. He keeps hammering that spot, seeing Stiles’ dick spit every time he does, seeing the boy’s stomach tightening chest jittering, pupils dilating, he’s so close. 

Stiles rears his hand back to give Derek one more slap, full force, stinging angle, and pulls up to his ear to grin as he murmurs, “Mush.” Derek slams him into the wall with a roar, eyes flashing, hips smacking one– two– three times before his thighs quake and his back straightens and his balls jump with each pulse they unload inside. 

His vision whites out as his ears ring and when he comes to, Stiles is kissing at his lax mouth, petting down his back, scratching at his fluttering stomach. They’re both covered in spunk, and Derek knows not all of it is their own, but it doesn’t matter as he draws Stiles even closer, wraps him up in his arms, soft cock still inside him, and finally starts kissing back. 

Maybe he won’t be coming to Jungle anymore, but he’s sure he’ll be more sated than ever. 

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He just wants to do his part. Laura had told him over and over again that his part was just being a kid, sticking to school, keeping his nose clean, but she was barely older than him, working two jobs, always exhausted and worried and he was what? Supposed to eat fuckin’ Cheetos and watch basic cable and pretend like it wasn’t all his fault, like she wasn’t missing out on years of her life on top of her family because of a decision he made?

He’d tried to just find a job at first, something reliable enough that he could drop out for, but no one wanted to hire a kid his age. Either they didn’t trust him enough to be left to things, or the under the table pay was barely worth his effort. He’d spent weeks looking, trying to come up with something, seeing her ragged and still scrounging every damn penny. 

And then the idea came, one afternoon when Kevin came knocking around for rent. Laura was passed out in the single room, Derek trying his best to keep quiet on a long weekend day. The dude was fuckin’ skeevy, but what else could they expect– subletting in a place where their neighbors cooked shit in spoons? 

He was that kind of skinny that seemed impossible to do much about, tall and knobbly and hunched. A stringy bowl cut in dishwater blond, thin mustache, excessively groomed soul patch. He wore mostly ribbed tank tops and basketball shorts and sneakers without laces. He made a point of spitting during conversation and couldn’t ever seem to stop scratching at his pits or rubbing circles on his stomach or rearranging his junk. 

Most times Laura just left their rent pinned to the door in an envelope when she knew he’d be coming by– not wanting to even see him. But she’d gotten sick this month– fever haze sick. Derek made her stay home for near a week of work, they were short and she was hoping maybe Kevin would be busy with other things– too busy to notice them needing a little extension. 

Derek knew just how to distract him. He’d seen the way their landlord looked at him, knew it in his gaze the same way he’d known it in Kate’s. Kevin liked boys. Not men. Boys. Derek was good at sex, not just teenage cocky, but actually just naturally inclined towards the act. 

The first time was in their living room– Kevin biting his fist to keep from waking Laura up, Derek on his knees and with clenched fists. He had pimples on his stomach, his underwear had holes, he liked to hold Derek’s head down when he was choking. The sick sounds and convulsions of his throat and watering eyes made Kevin’s pebbled balls jerk and he nearly made Derek puke chasing his nut. 

He made Derek swallow, said he’d give them a week, and licked his lips when Derek jerked off on his feet. He doesn’t know why he did that– thought he’d be so soft from the sour smell of Kevin’s cock, the unpleasant burr of the pubes just starting to grow back that itched at Derek’s lips and nose, stomach sore from the consistent gagging. But when he pulled off, tongue reeking of tangy cum, he’d been leaking in his shorts. So he just turned off his brain and stared at Kevin’s scraped shins as he stripped himself fast and hard. 

Laura thought they just got lucky. Still optimistic. Derek asked what would get them a break in their rent– half off or better– wanting to let her quit one job for being so much better than him. Kevin fucked his ass raw, with spit as lube, in a unisex bathroom. It hurt, the whole time. Derek didn’t relax and Kevin didn’t stop. 

There wasn’t any blood, but Derek was crying and it got Kevin off hard enough that he slumped his dead weight over Derek’s back for nearly a minute– cum dumb, not present. He was going soft inside of him, Derek could feel his thin, yellowish jizz oozing out his asshole. He reached between his own legs to tug at his balls and clenched around the cooling, slimy dick until he came off of it. He whited out for a little too. 

Kevin always tasted like beer and stale cigarettes when they kissed, his fingernails were cut too short and were dirty. He was rough, never asked for permission to do new things, liked when Derek called him daddy and lived to make the boy cry. Derek started fucking him for fun, more than he needed. 

He felt violated being with Kevin and it made him hot. He was a full blooded wolf, could fight the fucking predator off any time he wanted. Instead he let Kevin piss down the back of his thighs, hiccuping, too drunk to get hard but still trying to hump Derek’s proffered ass. He must have thought he came, because he rolled over and passed out with an exaggerated, contented sigh. 

Derek tried to wake him up, but couldn’t make him budge. He was still hard, horny as fuck. So he sucked at Kevin’s bitter cock until it got up enough to mash into his ass. He planted his hands on Kevin’s reedy chest, licked at his open mouth, and rode him until he came. Kevin’s eyes didn’t even flutter. 

Derek was still hard, so he spread Kevin’s legs and fucked him. He used his spit as lube, didn’t wait for him to adjust, pissed inside him after. Laura got a promotion at her work and found out Derek had been skipping out on class. They moved to a new place before their next rent had a chance to be due. The place was poverty plus. They were people again. 

Derek still fucked guys like Kevin sometimes, but never for money, and never the same guy twice. It feels like what he needs. 

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Aw, why thanks! That’s definitely a tag that I never mind adding some new material to. ;) I’m glad there’s something that you really look forward to over here. ^^ 

Family had been everything to Derek for as long as he could remember, even when he was just a little kid. The first thing he ever consciously asked for as a birthday present was a Magic Stroller Baby. She came with her own stroller and even kicked her legs when you pushed her around in it. He walked every square inch of the Hale property with her and never let her sleep alone. 

In elementary school, when they were asked what they wanted to be when they group up, everyone else was saying police women and firemen and superheroes and Derek was the only one to say a mom– not dad, dad’s didn’t get to carry or deliver or nurse the baby. His teachers were mortified but his parents assured him that if that was what he wanted, he should go for it. 

By high school, the need never abated, but he learned to be less upfront about it. Tell the other boys on the basketball team that your family had breeder genes and you sometimes dreamed about getting knocked up and suddenly they were cornering you in the showers and taking turns saying they were doing you a favor by fucking your ass sloppy. Derek wishes he were even angry about it, but he’d never come so hard in his life and he felt utterly adored in the throng of sweaty, moaning, shaking boys. 

By the time he came back to Beacon Hills, alone, there was no one left that knew about all that. It had been pretty prevalent in his childhood. The small town was small enough that anyone could here the name Derek Hale and would reply, “Oh, you mean that young breeder boy? Has anyone given him a litter yet?” He’s still surrounded by those reedy, horny teenagers, but they don’t look at him like the little bitch that wants to be swollen with their brood, they don’t know that even now he craves it. 

They’re scared of him sometimes, thinks he’s someone different than who he is. He just wants to be barefoot in his kitchen with a swollen stomach, leaky tits, and a couple pups clattering about his legs. But they look to him as alpha, think that means he has to be dominant, aggressive. He tries his best for the longest time to fulfill that vision, but he just wasn’t made for it. 

Eventually they understand that he’s unhappy, they see the ache of emptiness inside of him, and the boys gather in his apartment, confront him. Scott looks upset, like he thinks Derek is dying. Isaac is trying his best to be unaffected, but is chewing his nails nervously. Stiles hovers so close to him Derek can smell that he hasn’t changed his briefs in days and the masculine raunch has his thighs quivering. Jackson puts on airs, pretending to be annoyed that he’s here, but he’s clearly that he’s not where Stiles is and his hands itch to reach out and touch. 

They’re Derek’s boys, all of them, at least in his head, and they came to him, to please him. Just the idea has his jeans bulging obscenely and he ducks his head as he gets goosebumps all down his skin. “What do you need?” Derek can’t be sure who said it, but it makes him whine, needy and drawn out, before dropping to his knees on the couch. 

He braces himself against the back of it, pops his hips out bows his back and rolls his hips. “Come, pups,” his voice is breathy and soft, almost already fucked out before anything has started. “Let your alpha momma take care of you. He needs it.” Derek closes his eyes and rolls his hips again, spreading his thighs to try and invite them in. 

There’s echoing, low growls that reverberate and build off of each other as Derek hears them approach, smells the bloom of ripe arousal, feels hands reach out to touch. They spread him wider, push his head down, make his ass pop. The crisp sound of denim shredding precedes cool air ghosting across Derek’s newly exposed, hairy ass and he whimpers as the tear splits until his heavy, sticky cock and balls flop out too. 

Someone grabs his jaw with both hands, rubs at his stubble, pushes their thumb across his lips until he opens up to let them prod at his tongue. Another drops to the floor, back against the couch, shoulders pushing up between his legs. Hot, moist breath tickles his low hangers before a suckling mouth starts to work at them, making wet, loud noises. A crooked cock gets shoved into his crack, sticky head rubbing against the small of his back as the shaft gets swallowed up between his meaty cheeks. 

The hands on his face pull him into their still clothed crotch, smothering him against their bulge and as he deeply inhales, Derek knows it’s Stiles. The vast majority of teenage boys always reek of unwashed feet and pits and cock and ass, but few with the ever freshness of Stiles. He must cum all over himself three or four times a day and care little for clean up. His musk is never stale and nearly knocks Derek over every time he enters a room. 

The boy’s dick makes for a small, but plump package and Derek mouths at it eagerly, sucking through exposed cotton to try and taste the salty pre surely soaking into it now. While he does, another cock joins in, this time pushing under to rub at the space just behind his balls. It’s the longest of the group, but the thinnest by far, and makes the boy sucking his nuts grunt and growl in frustration when it interrupts him. Eventually that boy, Jackson he thinks, just mutters a sullen ‘fuck you’ and moves on to lick at Derek’s messy foreskin, sucking the loose overhang of it and keeping his cockhead pursed between his lips. 

Isaac and Scott both dedicate one hand to trying to finger him loose in tandem, while one starts groping his chest and another holds him at the waist, trying to still Derek’s needy squirming as he makes noises low in his throat, wanting to just be fucked already. He’s appeased just long enough to receive a little prep when Stiles finally fishes his chubby dicklet out of the front of his briefs and lets Derek bob on it, easily able to take the whole length in his mouth and breathe through his nose as he threads an arm between Stiles’ legs, hand firm at the boy’s ass to keep him in place as he relentlessly sucks him through load after load– Stiles a quick shot, but hardly even going soft in between. 

Jackson seems content to play, jacking himself off as he sucks the creases of Derek’s thighs, noses in his thick bush, licks the slit of his dick, and makes a sloppy mess. Scott and Isaac almost cling to each other more than Derek, plastered chest to back as they try to fuck their dicks in at the same time, mashing them together as they shove past Derek’s furry hole and don’t stop until they’re more or less bottomed out. It’s hard to go deep enough for their balls to slap against him, but Derek only cares that they’re inside, bare, and teenagers with enough hormones and repeat stamina to overflow him with cum. 

No single part is good enough to get him off on its own, but working as a symphony of dirty, messy sex, Derek is quivering through drooling orgasm after orgasm, painting Jackson’s freckled face in thick, fresh loads. They don’t spray and he doesn’t convulse or white out, but instead just rolls between all the bodies, letting out a constant faucet of his pleasure. 

He gets lost in the time, just soaking in everything these boys will give him. He thinks he sucks Stiles until the boy can give him nothing but piss. Jackson is almost as wrecked as he is and has taken to just rubbing his tacky face against Derek’s thighs with a contented hum. Isaac and Scott are making out, soft inside of him and collapsed against his back, sure he can hold their weights. 

And Derek is filled, hopefully pupped, and finally happy. 

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Haha, well I could say something salty about the Teen Wolf writers here, but it’s not worth the effort. Besides, Liam is fun to just mold into any situation you want, so malleable this sexy, little chunk. 

It seemed as though Scott and Derek would never get along, no matter who was technically alpha, nor who had the most experience, or made the better decisions. Every day was another opportunity to try and show the other up and while it had been funny at first just how childish they would get and the opportunities that they would leap to, after a while it just got exhausting. 

The pack would hardly even meet as a single group anymore. Half would meet with Scott and half with Derek and then share and confer between. Because no one really knew how to deal with it and any attempts led to little lasting success. The two seemed to fight about it forever, even after the big threats had passed. 

They would argue about who was stronger and start smashing things, faster and parkour flip over shit, even more caring and qualified and would turn into monsters trying to outdo the other in favors. They’d had belching contests, flexed at each other for a half hour, and even had literal pissing contests.

Liam had tried to be patient and understanding about it, really he had. He’d been better about his anger lately, was getting along with everyone, was functioning as a teenager, but the two of them riled him up to the point where his face was red and veins popped out of his neck with strain. He was the youngest of the group and yet he had to constantly pull them apart– the only one in the group strong and crazy enough to do so. 

He was kind of left to deal with them on his own for that reason and had broken up wrestling matches, had to banish them to different rooms of the house, and had to just walk away from one instance of them holding lighters to their asses in an attempt to produce the largest flame. 

If they wanted to be animals about it, then he guessed he’d have to treat them like animals to try and fix the problem. It took a bit of nerve to work up to do it, but Liam waited until he knew he’d have to interact with them next, let them arrive there first and start the bickering off, let it grow until it was heated, until they were looking for another way to out play the other. 

Then, with an ease he didn’t feel, he walked into the room, barked at the two of them, and dropped his shorts. He wasn’t wearing anything underneath and he spread his legs wide to make sure they got their fill. He knew Scott’s cock was longer and Derek’s balls were meatier, but neither of them came close to his girth. Fat enough not to be able to wrap a hand around when he fully got hard, he didn’t let their taller frames or greater experience cow them. 

Both of them shut their mouths with a comical snap and then just stared, rooted in place. With a bit more confidence, Liam just tapped his foot and tutted out a sharp, “Well?” They boy looked at him with furrowed brows, shoulders turned inward, starting to be suitably submissive. “Now that we know who the real alpha is, you better start sucking the fuck up.” 

They looked at each other, bared their teeth, and then raced to get to their knee first, mashing their faces in his groin, licking and sucking, nibbling and snuffling, hands groping to try and spread his legs more, get more room to box the other out and take their fill. 

Liam just smirked as he stood his ground and let them grovel, tilting his head back and closing his eyes as he let out a relieved sigh. He ended up with one of them burrowed in his ass and the other choking on his dick and he really didn’t care which one was which. All that mattered was the way they scuffled to suck his cum off of each other’s faced and then offered their asses when he barked that he wasn’t done. 

Maybe this could be fun after all.

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My friend, my friend. *breathes deep* This prompt is so mah shit it is like a gift from the gay smut gods. I’m not sure if any of you have caught onto it yet (I’m willing to bet the vast majority of you have) but I may or may not be slutty for guys who stink. Sorry not sorry. Something about an unkempt dudebro just makes me weak in the knees. 

The frat is everything Derek wanted it to be and more. He’d been like any other cocky, athletic kid in high school that excelled enough to get money for college from it. He’d seen the movies and done the summer tours and he just knew wanted to get into a fraternity. He wanted to be part of those dudes that were totally happy with giving the least amount of fucks as possible, because that’s how he was. 

He wanted to finally get to a place where no one cared that he never did his laundry, that he ate and drank everything straight out of the container, that he wanted to spend his days playing video games, crushing it in basketball, and ‘bating till his balls were sore. He didn’t want to have to care about keeping his ridiculous mustache clean, about doing something over the odor of his flip flops, or about holding his innumerous belches and farts in. 

The frat gave him all that– in fact they celebrated it. And Derek slowly got to find out that he didn’t want just acceptance of it, but he was seeking to appreciate it in others, which was the more he wasn’t expecting. It came on slow, all of them sliding into the pit together. He figures it would have come on quicker if it weren’t for the expected eggshells of no homo, but when no one gave a shit, things got lavishly raunchy, fast. 

Derek could wake up and stumble blearily into the bathroom buck naked, stand hip to hip with another guy that just got there, and piss in the same pot together. They’d just bump shoulders, maybe even tangle legs, mumble ‘morning’ and even sometimes share some sloppy, lethargic kisses spurred on by morning wood. Then one of them would rip one, the other would laugh and slap his ass, and they’d tussle down the stairs for breakfast. 

They ate like animals and no one said a damn thing about morning breath, batted an eye at the other half dozen dudes spending a good minute and a half scratching their loose balls before thrusting their hands into the buffet style meal, or how most of them were chubbed up. 

Then they’d splinter into groups, some heading outside for a pick up game, others firing up the Xbone, some heading back to bed for a while. Derek liked to get his gears going by working up a fresh sweat, throwing on just a pair of nylon basketball shorts before heading out to shit on everyone who thought they could compete with the guy who was here on a scholarship for it. 

They loved to make obscene bets with him about it– go for ridiculous games of horse or three on one pick ups. The bets would always be something like them having to lick between his hairy toes, get their face buried in his matted armpit hair for two minutes, get teabagged by his fat, sweaty balls, or push their nose into his musky pucker. 

He hadn’t lost yet and nine out of ten times got to finally relieve his morning wood in victory. None of them felt much bad about always ending up going down on his dirty foreskin because they knew he was shit at every damn FPS that ever got popular and would be repaying the favor after lunch. 

That was what made the system work. It was all mutual. The house was a wreck of their combined, unfiltered boy. Their clothes reeked of sweat, their sheets of sex, their bodies of each other. That was the real brotherhood. They were so entwined it was like fucking coming home. Licking his big bro’s soles or making a pledge worship his pit was never demeaning, just something for everyone to enjoy. 

No one cared if you needed to air out your sticky ball sack and just let them flop out on the couch during movie night. “Your ass is rank,” was as much of a laughing insult as it was a come-on. The cum flowed more freely than the beer. 

Derek never thought about being fucked in the ass once before he came here, but now he took it daily, even sometimes climbing onto a bro’s face to make him give some prep because no one had tackled him for it yet and he had a craving. And once one bro heard the wet slaps of him getting bred, it wasn’t long before more would show up to make a beautiful mess. 

He passed out on the couch in a heap of bodies often, but not for the reason most would expect. All of them sweaty and sticky and dirty from each other. It was Derek’s new home. He loved each and every one of them and they loved him back. Kissing and groping and laughing and humping, though they spent their days being grossly sexual it was intimate too. There wasn’t anything they wouldn’t do without each other. 

Legs tangled together, bellies brushing with breaths, soft cocks sticking to thighs and asses messy with one another, they curled into a pile, humming against skin, chuffing laughs into hair, trading lethargic makeouts and aimless fingerings. Derek couldn’t distinguish his own musk from the wafting mass of them. He took comfort in the cacophony, breathing deep and letting his head swim from it. 

This was the real definition of fraternity. 

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Oh man, this for sure cannot annoy me and you definitely should not be apologizing. I am actually thrilled that you love this idea so much and wanted to share it with me! I sometimes feel like I’m shouting into the void with this blog and not actually getting anyone interested in or excited about anything, so it downright tickles me when I get messages like this. 

I WANNA TALK SUPER NASTY PORN WITH EVERYBODY ALL DAY. 

So I’m just gonna go down the line and address these points one by one because they’re all A++++. 

Firstly, we all know Stiles’ computer is a black hole of filth. Pls. That boy was the one that started watching porn at thirteen and tried to get Scott to watch it with him and fool around together. He was also the one that convinced people to steal dirty magazines and do shit like trade underwear. He’s just been a little cretin from day one of puberty. And at first he wanted to be more ‘normal’ but then he saw how excited everyone got by the illicitness of his ideas– their eyes blown wide and breath coming fast and hands shaking– and he got addicted by having that sort of sway. 

He’d want to try anything and everything and would totally start of himself. Massaging his sweaty nuts after lacrosse practice, cheeks burning when he holds his fingers to his nose to huff but it totally makes him cum so hard he sees stars. He’d experiment first with putting sharpies and stuff like that up his ass before realizing he needs a real toy and trying discreetly buy one online with his dad’s credit card. He’d steal cups and jockstraps from the locker room and look at other guys at the urinal and always be asking them inappropriate questions like if they’ve tasted their own jizz, if they keep cumsocks, do they use vaseline to jerk it? He’d be a menace to the other boys of BHHS, but one they secretly enjoy for all the ideas he gives them. 

Derek would be the kind of guy that totally repressed that kind of shit. He’d have thought that was surely just a wolf thing that he was only interested in for primal reasons and since he was part human, he better exercise his higher functioning and put that out of his brain. He would have worked so hard at it that he would have forgotten most of the time that it was buzzing back there in his brain. It was probably more difficult as a horny teen and he would got out into the preserve sometimes, overcome, and piss on himself as he jerked off, but then he would always feel super guilt about it. 

Then once he grew up and started putting an embargo on sex all together, let alone the kinky shit, he thought that it was just a weird phase he went through because of puberty. But then he and Stiles start flirting and then they start fooling around and suddenly, before he can think to protest they’re boyfriends. And every bit of it is overwhelming and he didn’t think that it might start to pervade deeper than he could have imagined. He spent so much time being anxious about his heart, sex didn’t factor. It was just sex. The easy part. 

He’d thought Stiles was using it as a tactic to string him out so he didn’t overthink and get too nervous about their sex at first, that he’d come to him when his muscles were sore and he was sweaty all over and his mind was filled with endorphins because then Derek didn’t have it in himself to muster all his guilt and doubt and ruin something that he actually wanted. But then he started paying attention, realizing that Stiles spent long minutes licking his matted pits, would sniff and huff and just breathe at his fat, musky balls over and over and over– cupping them and sucking them and burying his face in the grimy creases of Derek’s thighs. 

Then he started kissing Derek’s feet, massaging them, licking them, sucking the toes, putting his face in Derek’s sneakers and cumming on the soles. It made Derek’s eyes flash and his fangs drop and growls rumble through his chest and out of his mouth. He kept telling himself he wanted it to stop, that he’d talk to Stiles about it next time, but he had no resolve. He didn’t actually want that. Yes his wolf craved the deliriously dirty scent marking, but so did Derek. 

He revamps a little cottage out on the preserve that used to mostly just be a storage shed, but he puts a little fridge in there, a bed, a tv. No bathroom. He uses the pretense of a romantic weekend together to take Stiles there the first time, playing like he didn’t realize they would soak in the dirt the whole time. Stiles just smirks and lets him have his pretend till he’s ready for the upfront. Stiles is, and proves it by pissing the bed during the night. When they wake musky and tacky from it, Stiles just smiles and plays with his soft, wet cock on his hip. Derek takes several minutes to decide not to even try and play offended then slinks down the mattress to suck him off, nose filled with the sharp, sexy ripe of his mate’s claim. 

The little cabin would become Derek’s safe haven for indulging in it. Where he doesn’t even get embarrassed anymore that Stiles gets on his knees, fishes him out and says, “Your dick fuckin’ stinks,” with a grin before blowing him eagerly. And Derek takes no hesitance in breathing deeply when he’s rimming Stiles, smelling his old loads, new sweat, droplets of piss. It’s comforting and Stiles moans and pushes back when Derek digs his nose into his loose hole to try and get more. 

It slowly starts spilling out into the every day in increments until neither of them notice the people giving them dirty looks at the grocery store, how they leave their scent anywhere they linger too long, how the other pack members fall into a stupor when they’re around, high off the pheromones. Stiles would probably just casually smirk when he’s standing by the couch and Scott starts digging his face into his ass, snuffling, and go, “Ya, we took a hike before coming over and Derek couldn’t hold it, had to empty inside me.” Liam would sit tucked under Derek’s arm, face to pit all meeting, Jackson would cream his pants. 

Derek would finally feel at home in his pack, after much too long. 

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It started like this– Derek was Stiles’ TA in a lit history class, dorky yet sensual in his fashionably chunky glasses. Everyone that saw him wanted him, but he only had eyes for the motormouth in the front row that wore backwards snapbacks but could rant about soliloquies for days. They flirted shamelessly during office hours and argued through lectures in such a manner that even the professor found it obscene. 

Derek thought he’d found the surprisingly intellectual frat boy of his dreams– a bro with a closeted appreciation for classics that would drop his nylon shorts to dick him rough and uncoordinated. Stiles thought he’d found the collected, but kinky older man that would bend him over a desk, spank his ass, and make him cum hands free. 

They’re totally head over heels for each other by the time the semester ends and they can do anything about their feelings. They go out on a date the night Stiles hands in his final essay. They rub feet along calves and grip inner thighs under the dinner table and take their meal to go before even eating half of it to get back to Derek’s apartment and start stripping down. 

They think it’s foreplay at first– the way that they’re tussling and turning on top of the sheets– until it turns into an actual struggle to try and get someone to pin the other to the pillow. They actually break apart with a growl, red faced and sweaty and when the realization comes it’s the most awkward moment in either of their lives. Derek almost literally runs to the bathroom to escape it. 

But they’re in love. They try and stay away for three days before they miss each other too much to let a little sex incompatibility get in the way. They finger each other deep and rude while sixty nine-ing. They get a brutal double ended dildo and take turns sliding it between each other. They frot with plugs in both their asses and just clench around them while mashing cocks. It’s good. Not life altering, but fulfilling. 

When they go home for the holidays, they’re making out in a cafe waiting for their coffees and scones and feel an intense stare. Derek reacts with stiffness, sure it will be a small town mentality looking at them with disgust. Stiles hides in his neck, embarrassed for being too hot for his boyfriend even after months. They don’t expect a high school boy, broken off from the friend group he came here with to be looking at them with coiled heat. 

Somehow they run into him again and again and Derek tells Stiles he’s playing stupid if he thinks it’s any accident. He’s usually possessive, but for some reason, this time, there’s no violence in his assessment. Stiles figures the age difference between him and Derek is the same as the one between him and this boy infatuated with them. The taboo of it gets him hot. 

Turns out the kid’s name is Theo, a junior at the high school they both went to. On the lacrosse team, bit of a loner, aggressive and… hung. They learn those last two when the boy comes across them in the steam room of the local rec center. He saunters in, having been there by pure coincidence, caught off guard if the way he freezes in the doorway says anything. But then a pleased, predatory smile slips over his lips and he drops his towel completely, sits close enough he can touch them with his outstretched foot, props the other leg up on the bench to give an obscene view of his undercarriage. 

They move to the showers and Derek sucks Stiles’ cock while Theo creams his hairy hole for the first time in too, too long. He’s got that teenage stamina and doesn’t let Stiles go before shooting inside him too– Derek licking at the base of his thick dick where it’s pistoning inside of his boyfriend. They spend the week they have turning the kid to jelly, smothering him in their greedy asses and teaching him a thing or two he would have never gotten from boys his age. 

Before they leave to go back to campus, they give him a brochure for the college, say he should start thinking about his future, maybe come for a tour weekend sometime. Theo never much cared about his grades, but his parents are pleased when he has a sudden interest in higher education, and some friends that already attend saying they’ll write him letters of recommendation. 

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It starts because they share a bedroom. Their parents didn’t think it was any big deal– boys share all the time– but they couldn’t have taken into account how voracious Derek would get through puberty. He was always a sweet, quiet boy– both of them were, it’s why they seemed so well suited to always be put together. The boys never had any trouble getting along, would whisper to each other, were always terribly affectionate and protective. It seemed perfect. 

Then Derek’s balls dropped and he seemed to almost go mad with it, like his hormones would intermittently start a fever in his brain and unless he made an absolute mess of himself sating them, they’d cook it. He masturbated constantly and openly, watching as his little brother chewed his lips and made little, whining sounds at the show. He was clearly confused as to what was going on, but felt sympathetic pangs all the same, Derek could tell by the little tent he’d make in his shorts and the minuscule wet spots he’d started to leave. 

He doesn’t do anything about it at first, too caught up in taking care of himself and not caring much for the way he leaves Scott a little confused and watery eyed every time they get off watching each other. But then he catches his little brother in his laundry hamper, snuffling and sucking at a pair of briefs he’d thrown in after he creamed them. He’d gotten horny while roughhousing with his friends and used the sweat and adrenaline to get himself off. They must be potent. 

And there little Scott is, cantering about as he rubs his face in them, making confused little circles as his dicklet spurts. Derek isn’t even sure if he likes the sensation yet, is just addicted and compelled. He wonders if Scott even knows that he’s not wetting himself, that this is something else. The kid should be hitting puberty himself soon but he’s so babied by his parents and older brother he definitely doesn’t act like it. He gets teased about just that all the time at school. 

So Derek decides to take care of him the same way he always has. But now it’s not wiping his nose and feeding him snacks and reading him stories. He’s always had Scott under his wing, but this is going to be totally different. Outside of their bedroom he can still give Scott chaste little kisses and pack him lunch and make sure the bullies are staved off. Behind closed doors… 

Derek takes to always keeping Scott quiet with a dirty pair of his underthings. Dingy briefs from when he hand’t grown out of them yet, jockstraps from his extracurriculars, cotton boxers he’d borrowed from Jordan and never given back. Any of them do to make sure his fussy baby bro doesn’t make too much a racket. He can’t control himself yet so Derek does it for him. Plus the saliva soaked material is great for wiping his wet eyes afterwards and cleaning their sticky messes. 

“I’m gonna make us both feel good, but you gotta do what I say.” Scott’s eyes are always wide as he nods along, frequently ambushed by Derek random times throughout the day. He lets himself get dragged into closets, across couches, into restrooms, and put wherever he’s needed. Most of the time that’s just straight into his crotch. They don’t have the time or the maneuverability for otherwise. Derek jacks his own cock and just makes Scott lick the creases of his thighs, the folds of his loose, sweaty ballsack, sucking the swollen nuts so he’ll cum harder and bigger. Then he sweeps up the mess with his fingers and feeds it to his kid brother so the only evidence will be the scent of it on his breath. 

On the rare times they’re home alone for extended periods of time, that’s when he spreads his thighs and pushes the boy’s whole face into his ass that just keeps getting bigger and bigger, hairier and hairier. Scott’s whines get muffled easily in the meat and the boy’s sloppy kitten licks and aimless nibbles and sucks drive him crazy. 

Scott always creams himself regardless. Derek could have him nurse his big brother’s nipples and nothing else and the boy would shudder and blush as his little, crooked dicklet spurts. So the fun in it comes from Derek taking everything he could possibly want and pushing to see how much he can get from Scott until the poor thing starts to shake and cry and that it’s too much, that this time he is gonna pee himself. 

Sometimes he doesn’t even stop then and drinks in the sharp humiliation of the kid. It gets him off good and then he gets to slide right back into being the hero, gathering up the soiled clothes to wash before their parents get home, soothing Scott’s little cries, washing his fuzzy belly and soft thighs in the bath while cooing at him. 

The dichotomy is dizzying for Scott, but he just follows along like the eager puppy he always has been, sure Derek will never lead him astray. 

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It’s the only way that Isaac knows how to be. He has to ingratiate himself to whoever will have him. He’d rather be a beta under any alpha’s cock than an omega all on his own. He was letting Derek cream his little ass nightly, but when it got to be too much for the guy, he moved right on. Scott’s cock wasn’t as long, his nuts as fat, but he was curved obscenely and just as hairy and so much easier to make spill over and over again. 

It was almost funny, how simple it was to shove him in a chair, spread his legs, and make him whine with it. He’d always try and play noble, “You don’t have to do this, really. It’s okay, you can stay however long you want. Only if you’re horny.” But his cock was hard around Isaac twenty four seven anyway, his alpha nuts permeating thick, heady musk into the room whenever they were alone. 

He was just as hungry as Derek, he just didn’t want to admit it. That’s okay though, because Isaac was happy to take the initiative, to earn his keep. He didn’t mind having to play the game to get to it. Plus, it almost made him feel like he was the one in control. Scott got so cum dumb he was almost incoherent, slurring his words and passing out before his spunk cooled. 

The guy had obviously never had a nice, nasty slut service him. He was surprised when Isaac yoked and sucked his nuts, like no one ever had paid them attention, then yelped and got shaky and almost panicked when his ass got licked too. Isaac would be surprised if he’d had more than a fumbling handy before. 

Made it so sweet to drive him off the edge, to make him writhe and beg and whimper as he came over and over, soaking his thick bush, making his chest and stomach tacky with it, nearly getting him to hyperventilate. He didn’t even have to get Scott fully undressed or spend more than fifteen minutes licking all the way up from his hairy taint. He didn’t have to deepthroat, get fucked for hours, nibble tits or suck toes. Sloppy, thorough head was like seeing God to Scott. 

Isaac was starting to think getting thrown out was the best thing to ever happen to him. 

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Hey there, I’m glad you felt like asking! I never want anyone to think they can’t throw whatever in my askbox, that I might shame them or something. Sex is sex, y’all! We all like weird shit and don’t really know why. I mean, at its base level, it’s pretty grotesque anyway. So stop the fear! :P 

But for really, I’ve seen some other kink writers afraid to post some of the more extreme stuff they’re into unless it’s a totally anonymous account they just made specifically for that, and I think it’s a shame they’ve gotta be cowed off some more niche material. Maybe it’s not for everyone, but then just don’t read it! 

Farts are in my realm of fiction kink like anything else. Would I actually be into beastiality, underage, incest, etc etc real life? No. Do I like it in stories? Hells yes. So why this kink gotta be treated different? Obvs y’all know I like me some stinky boys what with my flagrant musk boner, this is just another facet of that to me. I legit think they’re cute in a domestic sense, rl and fiction. When you’re at that point with someone that you just laugh at being gassy together? Good stuff. Would I ever actually like someone to fart on me during sex? Probs not for sure. Do I want to read/write about TW boys doing it? Well, guess that cat’s out of the bag. 

So, diatribe coming to an end– I like farts in smut. Y’all wanna prompt me more? I’ll write plenty. Come off anon, chat with me about it, send me a message, it’ll be fun. You definitely don’t like it? Prompt me something else, don’t read those ones, or unfollow. Just don’t be comin’ up on me for it or the others who do. I think serial killer AU’s are super disturbing and hella gross. But I just don’t read them. I don’t flame people that are into it. So pay me and this anon the same favor. ;) Thank. 

Derek’s not sure how it started– if maybe it was a wolf thing or if it was a teenage boy thing– but it was casual all the same. He didn’t really pay it much mind either way. Wolves were always smelling things humans were embarrassed about, and surrounding himself with these teenagers meant he’d just grown blind to it. Jackson’s feet were always tangy, Stiles always smelt like his own cum, Liam never shook well enough after a piss, and Scott just had a ripe ass. 

They were kids, and most of them half animal, and if they were taking any notes from him it didn’t much help. He knew his own pits wafted something strong every time he lifted his arms and if he manspread, they were all granted a nice whiff of his fat balls, but that was just natural. For them, at least.

It seemed all of them didn’t care much about the excessive preening others really loved, coating themselves in artificial perfumes and being meticulous about their grooming. Maybe the argument could be made for this being an extension of just letting it all hang out, relaxing enough around each other it didn’t matter. 

After all, they’d gotten to the point where mindless touches were shoulder and chest rubs, faces in necks, hands pushing up shirts to rub stomachs. That was just friendly, just a greeting, in passing, for comfort. So did it seem so far a stretch when he really thought about it? 

No one else seemed to think so, because as they were all sitting around on a Friday night– the only ones without things to do– watching movies in various states of pajama-ed undress, Scott leaned to one side, lifted his leg, and bubbled out a low fart. Derek whipped his head around to stare– on the other end of the sectional– but Stiles, sitting on the floor with his back to his best friend’s feet just chuckled, “Duude,” elbowed Scott a little, and shook his head. 

Derek couldn’t help inhaling deeply, even as he gave them a shocked look, and his head bobbed as he scented the air, waiting it for to hit his nose. It was muted, earthy, ripe. Not like he ate something he shouldn’t or was having indigestion, just a hearty, masculine smelling push of relief. For some reason it electrified his skin, and he didn’t seem to be the only one. 

Liam, next to Scott, wriggled like an energetic puppy, nervous smile tittering across his lips, as he did the same, just exceptionally less subtle than Derek. He leaned closer to his sire, curled his hands in his crotch, and chewed them lightly before contributing his own high pitched peal of gas. There wasn’t much scent to it, seemed as though he’d forced it just to join in, and Derek’s scowl turned into a furrowed brow of slight confusion. 

Scott just smiled fondly at his little beta, clapping a hand behind his neck and dragging him over to smother in his armpit for a noogie. “Don’t even start that again,” Jackson snipped, on the ground with Stiles, but in front of Derek. He’d been playing idly with Derek’s socked toes, furry calves, but now he’s got a dour look on his face, keeps shifting uncomfortably. 

Stiles’ eyes lit up in that bright and dangerous way and he sneered, getting to his knees and looking about to pounce. He learned a lot from the wolves. “Oh don’t even front, miss priss. You still gotta play this game?” Derek wasn’t sure what they were referring to, but Jackson’s face went all splotchy. Stiles cackled before grabbing him by the ankles and hauling him over. 

For all of Jackson’s words, he had to have went willingly. No way he couldn’t have stayed right where he was. “Jocksniffers don’t get to say anything.” It came out weak, noncommittal, and clearly Jackson’s actions meant more. Stiles seemed to agree as he just walked on his knees up the other boy’s body before planting himself firmly on his chest, crotch right under his chin. 

“Last I checked, we’ve been sharing the spoils.” Jackson squirmed weakly, mewling a little, arching his back to push his hips in the air, but it definitely wasn’t a struggle. He had a bulge in his sweatpants and his belly was quivering in excitement. Stiles grinned, closed his eyes, let his head fall back, rolled his hips a little, and though there was no noise, Derek smelt it. 

Sweaty and tangy and all locker room, his mouth hung open, wet, and he panted. His eyelashes fluttered and the wet of it and he thought he might be able to taste. Jackson clearly felt the same way, was even closer, probably felt the heat, and pushed his face into Stiles’ groin, whining. 

It felt like a dream, some demented thing he’d be ashamed about when he woke up, belly sticky, cock soft and spent in the crook of his thigh, but this was too real, to complex to be a fevered fantasy. Liam started rubbing himself all over Scott, who opened up his body to it, pushing his ass out to squeak a couple more. Scott groaned soft and reached out a hand to play with his crack as his beta mashed his face into his sire’s crotch. 

Jackson coughed lightly, spread his legs, puttered out something dry and mostly unscented, almost by accident as he writhed and clenched. Stiles took utter delight in it, laughing and riding the other boy’s face, planting his hands behind himself to get a better angle. 

Derek felt entranced by it, in a daze, and he moved without meaning to. He brought one leg up onto the couch, pulled it back till his knee hit his chest, slid down to angle his ass out of the cushions, and moaned as he farted. It was loud and low and reverberating, the kind that shook his fat cheeks, made his hole quiver, left heat behind his balls and bounced off the walls a moment later. 

It made his nipples tighten and his dick wet and balls draw up. Everyone stopped. Everyone turned to look at him. His ears got hot and turned beet red. His breath stuttered as he tried to draw in the smell. His muscles grew restless and twitched. But now that he’d started, he couldn’t stop. Smaller, lighter rumbles burbled in his stomach before pushing out, chortling as they passed. 

He thought he might get up and run, hoped they would all forget this happened, wondered why he thought he could join in on their petulant, horny game. But then Stiles leaned forward instead of back, crawled towards him, making Jackson scuttle back to stay between his legs, and put his hands on Derek’s thighs, face awed. “You came to play, big guy.” Derek hesitated before nodding slightly, spreading his legs to light Stiles closer, grunted as he pushed out another. Stiles smiled, sniffed, eyes watered and he rubbed his face against Derek’s muscles. “C’mon, show me who’s alpha.” And then he smothered himself in Derek’s ass and it all started back up again. 

Derek was suddenly very glad he didn’t have any plans. 

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Ah, thanks so much! I’m quite thrilled that people have loved it as much as they do! I was very nervous about it and just loved the concept so much that I didn’t want to ruin it. :P Now for the pressure of the sequel. 

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BUT ANYWAY. Y’all know I’m gross and love just buckets of cum. :P What with his huge balls and being a fertility spirit, you know he just wrecks things. He totally ruined that kilt forever and if that shag carpet wasn’t dirty enough before, at this point it’s just gonna have to be torn up. And with that thick puddle down there, the musk of it was enough to get the whole room horned up. 

Derek never thought much of it before, but you know he’s real embarrassed about it when he’s with Stiles. Because Stiles has this kinda small, chubby, cute cock and when he cums it’s just this lethargic drool that’s opalescent and pretty. It’s not like Derek that just fucking spouts water balloon globs of it from his engorged junk. 

But Stiles loves it, hums as Derek rubs it into his skin, licks at the slit of his cockhead as it pours out, letting it go down his throat and all over his face. Derek blushes profusely and Stiles laughs at him fondly and just pets his oversensitive, slightly achy nuts as they jump and twitch. 

It’s always quite the affair. 

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Basic?! I’ll have you know what a whopping FOUR YEARS AGO (jesus, that’s not even the start of my fanfic writing career, lord help me) I actually loved that idea so much, I wrote a full fic about it. I been in this fandom since DAY ONE baby. :P 

Anyway, you know the whole lacrosse team would be constantly gossiping about it. He has to know what he’s doing. He’s too hot to be oblivious. He’s probably using it as some kind of motivation tool. 

When they’re all in the weight room, he walks so it literally jiggles and shakes. With each shift of weight, his thick thighs tense and strong and so hairy, the fat cheeks bounce and heft, straining against the tiny, cotton shorts he’s always got on. 

He’ll park it right next to their faces when they’re on the bench, claiming he’s spotting them, but just staring into their nervous eyes as the muscles in that thick ass twitch. None of them can help but take little sniffs, catching the strong musk that makes their eyelids flutter. 

It was better than just general locker room musk–headier. Coach Hale was a man and it made their boy cocks wet just to be around him. They played off all their readjusting as the usual teenage boys that couldn’t help but scratch their balls constantly and he never chastised them for it, just watched and maybe took a grope of his own bulge in idle sympathy. 

They couldn’t take it any longer and conspired to do something about it. After their next home game win, they poured a cooler of Gatorade on him– innocuous enough– but then invited him to shower with them after. Either he didn’t think much of it or didn’t care about their obvious trap because he just shrugged and played along. 

He stripped with them, walked into the middle of the showers and watched as they all ogled his fat nuts, hairy ass, long foreskin. Before he could reach for any soap, his boys were on him, massaging his pecs, rubbing their own hardening cocks between his fat asscheeks, groping his thighs, licking his armpits. 

All he did was say, “You boys did good tonight. Keep this up and we’ve got a shot at regionals.” They hummed their agreement against his skin and made sure they showed him just how much they appreciated all his hard work. 

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Well, this definitely wasn’t 500 words, but I tried? :P 

Derek had been so proud to bring this boy home to his family. Stiles was exactly what they were looking for. Unlike Kate or Jennifer, he knew that it was going to go off well. Laura would love what a big goof ball he was. Cora would love his utter brazenness. His mother would love how humble he acted about everything he was given. Peter would love his wicked smiles and mischievous streak.

Hid dad though—that was the person Derek was most excited to get to introduce him to. It would be after all the others, at a different affair. His parents had gotten divorced when he was in middle school. His mom got the house. His dad got a loft in the apartments buildings they owned downtown. He was honorable about it, stuck around, stayed involved, paid his dues.

Derek absolutely adored him. His father’s word was the final word and he hoped and prayed that he’d have something wonderful to say about his boyfriend. Despite living just a few doors down from his dad, Stiles had yet to even see the man. Derek wanted to make absolute sure that Stiles was ready for it the first time they met. Everything had to be just right.

Stiles thought it was just the usual nervous nagging, that Derek thought they might rub each other the wrong way. Derek kept telling him that wasn’t it. How could he have expected the truth? How could he have possibility predicted Derek’s dad answering the door in nothing but loose sweats that hung so low Stiles could tell he was freeballing? How was he supposed to react when Derek huffed out, “Oh, daddy,” in a near whine before rushing forward to give his father an open mouthed, sloppy, ten second kiss?

He told himself it was probably a werewolf thing. Don’t be judgmental of a culture you don’t understand, don’t be a dick! So when they broke apart—Derek’s eyes fogged over, strings of saliva connecting them, his father chubbing up—he just smiled and waved and like one might awkwardly do in Europe, stepped forward to replicate the greeting.

Derek’s dad made a high pitched noise of surprise in the back of his throat when Stiles immediately licked into his mouth, which then turned into a deep, rumbling growl when he sucked on the offered muscle. Stiles was doing his best not to let his dick twitch at the sensation, but then Derek leaned so all their bodies were mashed close and started palming his ass, rough and insistent.

Werewolf thing or not, this was clearly not platonic, and suddenly it made sense why Derek was so nervous about showing this part of himself. Stiles loved him. God, he loved him so much. He supposed it only counted if he loved all of him. So he went with it, sue him. Derek let Stiles tie him up sometimes, Stiles could let Derek’s dad watch. Right?

“What a good boy. Taking care of him so well. Look at how much he loves this. He’s addicted to you.” They’re naked without even exchanging names and Derek’s father is prowling around the huge ottoman Derek has him sprawled out on, is making love to him on. That slow, torturous, languid sex they have usually only on weekends. His dad is making comments on each move, each muttered sentence, each noise that they make—his hands cupping the back of his son’s neck, tweaking a nipple, groping his ass to play with his hairy hole.

His cock is out and hard. Balls are just as big and low as Derek’s. Dick shorter, but fatter. It drips obscenely, just as ridiculously wet as Derek. Mr. Hale doesn’t do anything with it though, not the entire time they’re fucking. He waits until Derek starts whining, until Stiles can feel his not trying to squeeze past his rim. “Please daddy, please!” Derek’s making aborted little humps, presenting his ass, showing off where he’s balls deep inside of Stiles’.

It’s like he’s asking for permission, approval. And it clicks into place for Stiles that that’s just what this is. Derek brought him here for his father to see if they matched, to place judgment on this mating. They both wait in near silence for a few tense moments—the quiet broken by their panted breaths and the slick sounds of Derek trying his best to hold still inside of Stiles. His father prowls another couple circles, rumbles an assessing noise, looks Stiles over again and again.

“We can have him.” He finally murmurs. Derek cries out. His father takes ahold of his own dick and points it towards them. Stiles lets go of a breath he didn’t know he’d started to hold and as his boyfriend knots him, his father-in-law starts to piss all over the both of them. Derek moans and turns his face into it. His father chuckles and ruffles his wet hair. Stiles cums.

Maybe there’s elements of a werewolf thing, because being marked definitely feels like it. Maybe they’re just kinky, fucked up dudes, because Derek is starting to lick under his dad’s foreskin and Stiles can tell he’s done it before. Either way, he’s not exactly complaining.

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Ah! Why thank you, I’m glad that you enjoy it. ^^ And also that you liked that fic. I was so nervous while posting it and though it has a decent amount of kudos there definitely was a lack of comments. :P Understandable, I suppose. 

It’s many years later and Derek is twenty when he meets Stiles. He’s out at a bulk food store, restocking the house to make sure the surfeit of hungry boys there are taken care of. That’s his main role in their family now. He’s gotten too old to be of much interest to his father, who has plenty of young sons to choose from, and so he cleans and cooks and trains the little ones to pleasure. 

He’s been trying to deny that he’s lonely, that his dad raised him to have a voracious sexual and emotional appetite, that just getting to sleep in his bed and smell his son’s leavings on the sheets isn’t enough. He’s been doing a fine enough job of it, fingering himself while he nurses his boys to get off and slake some of the need. 

But he misses being that sole center of attention. He misses being the hinge of someone’s life style, the best part of their day. His first few sons adored him as a mother, but as they got more and more siblings and more and more competition for their father’s love, they focused on squabbles to get his attention–Derek’s freely given and so not worth near as much. 

The ones who don’t get used over the course of the day to make sure Papa Hale’s balls are emptied, come to him to fuck rough and frustrated, the sex always short and mostly only for their release. He’s honestly just happy to help, brushing back his brothers’ hair (when they get old enough they always want to be referred to as brothers instead of his sons) kissing their faces, letting them into his soppy hole. 

So he’s tender hearted and a little desperate and no one can really blame Derek–can they– when he sees a young boy sitting down in one of the aisles, sobbing because he’s lost, and in a manic gesture, Derek takes him. He doesn’t think about the full cart of groceries and toiletries he left behind. He doesn’t question whether he was caught on camera. 

He just remembers being young and hearing Scott wailing by himself down the hall and being told he couldn’t help. But this sweet, young thing is snuffling into his neck and gripping him so tight. He’s got beautiful eyes and the pinkest mouth and Derek’s kissing and groping him to get him to quiet. 

He’s soothing the boy the way he best knows how, in a rest stop bathroom. He’s letting the kid alternate between nursing his milky teats and then lapping at his own tongue, wiping the tears off his cheeks while he rubs the little bump of his boy cock through his cargo shorts. “It’s okay, I’ve got you now. It’s okay baby, I love you. Hey, what’s your name? Tell mommy your name.”

He and Stiles have sex propped on a changing table, the boy confused and jittery from his emotional upheaval, but interested and engaged in this new interaction. He doesn’t whine or push Derek away or seemingly mind anything at all. He lets Derek suck his little pink cock, finger his soft, warm hole, put his pretty mouth between his hairy cheeks. 

Derek must spend hours in there with him, cycling through orgasm after orgasm. No one comes looking. Stiles eventually falls asleep, hiccuping into Derek’s chest as the older boy cradles him lovingly. Panic never settles in. Derek doesn’t feel anything but content and overflowing with love. 

He doesn’t know where they’re going from here, but he’s pretty sure they’re going together. 

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Ah! I haven’t seen one! Was it recently? There may be a chance that tumblr just went and ate it. And btw, if y’all ever feel like that may have happened or I just missed it, feel free to send again, I definitely don’t mind. ^^ 

I love just about any prompt that I get, but I do get excited when it’s not something I’ve done before or that I do rarely. Especially some Wincest sounds like loads of fun! 

Sam didn’t hit puberty exceptionally early or late, or change drastically over night, but it seemed like, to Dean, he carried on exactly as he’d always been until there was a teenager standing right in front of him. Tall and gangly, breaks in his voice, adorably patchy stubble on his chin.

He had to look up to talk to his baby brother now, got a little spooked when his voice went deeper sometimes, had to deal with suspiciously long showers. But he didn’t mind any of that much, especially when they were alone. It was dad’s job to have all the awkward moments with Sammy and besides, Dean found it all innocuous– a relief even. 

Now that they were in the same boat and with Sam not knowing better, Dean not caring, when dad wasn’t around, they could just let it all hang out. They ate out constantly, stayed up too late, snuck drinks, didn’t wash their balls or boxers. Dean even took to joining Sammy in cultivating some wet dreams during the night and then attending breakfast in nothing but crusty boxers. ‘

Sam did it by accident. Dean got off on the minor disobedience, of knowing better and so casually brushing that aside. As the routine went on though, he started loving it for more. He liked the distinctness of their own ripe bodies– his pit scent warring with Sammy’s huge, sour feet. He liked the hedonism– eating salty, greasy red meat in bed and using that slickness on his fingers to play with himself under his clothes. He loved toeing the line of decency–starting to wreck their clothes and their room and getting more and more loose with what was and wasn’t okay to acknowledge. 

The day Sam left the breakfast table with bleary eyes and didn’t think a thing of giving an audible grunt, visible leg lift, and fart before shuffling off the bathroom with a mumbled, “Gotta nut,” and a chub falling out the leg hole of his briefs was the day Dean lost it. 

He sat at the foot of Sammy’s bed, directly across from the bathroom door, spread his legs wide, and started groping his morning wood rough and raunchy through his boxers. He picked up one of his brother’s huge skate shoes– tongue spongy, laces taken out– and buried his face in it, inhaling deeply. There was more than just sweat. It had that teenage tang, that ripeness of pheromones that made his eyelids flutter, his stomach clench, his dick spit as he let out a low, long moan. 

It wasn’t long until Sam came out, and without hesitating, just walked up to his older brother, non-chalant. “You need help with that?” He was smirking, eyebrow raised at the least, but the offer didn’t seem to be a joke. He was naked, seemed to have been prepping for a rare shower, but came out at the sounds Dean was making. His bush was dark if not thick yet, cock long but so slender, balls uneven from where they dangled between the meat of his thighs. 

“Ya, kid.” Dean got up to let Sam climb onto the bed before him, tossing aside the muted aromas of the shoe to get at the real thing. He slipped out of his boxers before climbing back on, yanking Sam by his ankles to get him to recline against the headboard, bending his knees so his long, soft feet were together. “When’s the last time you washed?”

Sam let himself be manhandled, had a curious, if blase expression as Dean rested back on his thighs, pushed his shorter, but fatter cock between his brother’s soles and started to rock it back and forth. “I dunno, our last hunt I guess, when that thing’s blood got all over me.” Dean groaned. Over a week ago. 

His balls started to slap against Sam’s chapped heels and he leaned forward to get more leverage, bracing his hands on either side of Sam’s hips. The wrinkle of the bottoms of his feet, curled to give Dean a channel to fuck into, created a ribbed textured that rubbed his sticky cock just right, making him fuck hard and fast. “You’re so rank.” He moaned as he laid his forehead down to rest against Sam’s belly, breathing thin. 

“What? Am not!” Sam lifted an arm to whuff at his pit, running his nose along the curled hair there, frowning softly where his older brother continued to pant against him, getting slicker and louder with each second. “I don’t smell any worse than you.” 

Dean smirked as he bent even further, nosing down into his kid brother’s bush, taking a long, deep inhale of the cock that was still sticky from his restroom ministrations. He bet under Sam’s uncut skin there was some musky smeg contributing to the cacophony of bush-dick-balls that was making his own nuts draw tight and his rhythm stutter. “You stink like a pile of jockstraps still in the boy’s locker room.” 

Sam’s toes curl to scrape against Dean’s stomach, nails just rough enough to make him cry out as he comes. He drools thick, stick cum all down Sam’s soles, rises up to make some of it gush between his toes, run over the tops to mat the fine hairs growing there. He keeps humping as he slumps over, nuzzling into his baby brother’s stomach and smacking his lips as he starts to drift off. 

He pisses a little, but Sam doesn’t complain or shove him off. When he wakes up, he hopes that teenage stamina is read for a more cooperative round two. Because if Sam’s feet didn’t reek before, they’ll be utterly obscene now. 

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I am the most glad to see my fics doing their intended purpose! :P I’m a little angry with the Hoechs rn and always trying to manage how hot I think Posey is with how terrible he is, so let’s continue this SPN train for now, ya? 

It’s not something Sam did often, in fact it’s something he preferred to ignore about himself. He thinks it developed in those weird, nebulous teenage years where everything in your subconscious fucks you over later in your life. Living the way he did with his father and brother, always moving, focused on everything but themselves, left little room for niceties. 

He owned only five or so outfits, which were always too small as he outgrew them fast. They tended only to be washed in the bathroom sink. He was always covered in grime and sweat and sometimes gore from their work and also usually only washed in the sink. They ate quick, cheap food that wasn’t great for them, slept in piles in the car often. Dean and he were in the middle of puberty, his dad  seemed to lose the ability to care for a lot without anyone calling him out on it. 

All this to say, Sam’s used to greasy hair, musky pits, crusty underwear– the small, enclosed space of the car filled with three men’s worth of sweat and farts and piss in water bottles so they don’t have to stop. Somewhere along the way that became comfort for him, even more. 

So when he leaves them for college, rejoins the norm, he has to make the effort not to be that way. It’s exhausting and sometimes he can’t help himself. He’ll scratch his ass deep just to be able to smell his fingers. Not shake at the urinals so he can dribble piss from his foreskin into his briefs. Not shower after doing frisbee with the guys in the quad. 

Every once in a while he just needs to go all out, flush his system, get back to a balance. He tells his roommate he won’t force him out of their shared dorm, but if he stays, he better be ready to experience some shit. He preps two days in advance, stops cleaning, doesn’t change clothes. 

And once the weekend is there, he goes all out. He humps his mattress as he smears his face against the rubber sandals he’s been wearing, licking at the tangy salt, making sure to further stain his underwear with copious pre. Push one hand down between his legs to grope at the huge bulge of his erection, moaning as he spreads his thighs, rolls his hips and just pisses himself. 

He’d eventually roll on his back to try and lick at his own hairy pits, strip down to rub the warm, musky urine up his thighs, into his bush, maybe on his stomach. He’d abandon the sour sandal for his grungy briefs, sucking on the crotch before running his nose up and down the back, imprints of old skids still there. 

He’d be rough with his loose, uneven nuts–mashing them and tossing them around, groaning as the heavy rank of them stains his hands. He’d dig a finger under his dirty foreskin, gather up the gunk in every ridge to smear across his cockhead.

He’d plant his feet on the mattress, bend his knees, slide back against the headboard to expose his small, soft ass. Hairless cheeks, but a thick stripe of it in the crack. He’d pull the pliant flesh apart to rub at the soft pelt around his hole, groaning as the swamped scent of it permeated the room. 

He’d come so hard it hit him under the chin, all over his belly and chest. He’d let it ooze down to soak in his crusted bush, lick it off his fingers, let it steep in his loose foreskin, rub it over his neck and in his hair. He’d wait to get hard to start all over again. Forty eight more hours in front of him. 

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Boys like this have always been Stiles specialty, they’re the ones he knows how to work with best, the one he can always make a connection to. He sees them sitting in the back of his classroom, with their dark clothes, closed body language, brilliant glimmers in their work, but angry careless streaks. 

He’s been lauded many times by the administration for what amazing work he does with them. He’s brought many back into the fold, has made excellent examples of them and gotten them on the track to happier, healthier lives. They all keep in touch with him after, send him photos and updates, visit him when they’re in town to “catch up.” 

If only his superiors knew what that meant, what he did to reach out to them. Derek is the latest, and by far his most difficult case. It’s taken months of careful prodding, but now they’re here. The boy is sat on his desk, legs spread, eyes wide as he breathes wet, heavy. “Mr. S, I–” 

He looks up at Stiles from under the fringe of his hair, chewing his bottom lip and pushing his tongue against the snakebites pierced through. “Shhh, it’s okay Derek. I want to give you what you need, and if this is it–.” Stiles shrugs before putting one hand on the boy’s knee, the other on his waist. He moves his thumb to stroke up and under the fabric of his shirt, to his soft, fuzzy belly. 

“You could get in so much trouble. I don’t want to be the reason things go to shit for you, you’re like– the best thing in my life.” His slate green eyes are wet and so beautiful, it takes Stiles’ breath away. Fuck, he’s not sure how he’s gonna let this one go. He has to say goodbye to all of his kids eventually, when they move on past him, but Derek–. 

“You don’t have to worry about me, I’m a big boy.” Stiles smirked as he walked between Derek’s legs, letting the boy wrap them around him and pull him closer, hold him still. He moved his hand from the boy’s knee to his face, stroking his cheek with a thumb before leaning forward to kiss, chaste at first, but then deeper and wetter. 

Derek mewled beneath him, needy as ever, and leaned back to brace himself atop the desk. His teeth worked at Stiles’ lips as he ground the bulge of his erection against his teacher’s stomach. “I want you to fuck me, please. I’m ready for it, I swear. I want you to be the first person that gets to have this.” 

Derek looks desperate, like he’ll die if Stiles doesn’t say yes, and Stiles is powerless to do anything but lean into him with a sigh. He’s never been able to say no. 

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Haha, well I’m glad that I have turned yet another to the dark side. It is my one true mission in life to make sure we’re all terrible and gross together. :) It’s the only way to live, really. And of course it’s not too much to ask! You’re terribly sweet and wonderful and I’m glad you came on over. 

[x]

Derek’s not sure how to ask for more– if that’s allowed, if they have to come to him, if he really did just dream it happening. All he knows is he thinks about it all the time, buries his face in old pairs of his own boxers while languidly touching himself and remembering every last detail. He’d creamed his pants like a kid, moaning loud enough to make a show of it, running his hands over and over through Stiles’ hair as the kid smothered himself in Derek’s ass. 

He’s sure it makes him look pathetic, but he’s started trying to just instigate it again without having to admit the want aloud, tries to barge in on their lounge time together, hint at it through baited conversation. All of it’s been for nothing so far and just left him embarrassed and feeling dumb, dirty. 

He tries to block it out, decides to go for a run so he can’t focus on it, make his mind a white noise as he strains himself to go further, faster. He stays out until his muscles are screaming, his breathing is thin, he’s absolutely drenched in sweat. It’ll all heal up as he slowly marches up the stairs to the loft, but it’s nice to feel if even for a moment. 

Derek thinks he’s done a good enough job of avoiding it for a while, until he opens the door to the loft and Stiles is there waiting. The kid doesn’t even stop rifling through his fridge when he hears Derek enter, but lets himself get hip checked out of the way when he reaches for a water bottle. 

They stand and survey the contents together for a few seconds before Stiles’ nose wrinkles and he turns to Derek with a pinched face. “Dude, you reek.” Derek’s ears flushed, but then he just scowled, lifted his arm to waft the warm wet of his armpit even more. 

“No one asked you to be here.” Stiles just smirks back, almost as though impressed, and then grabs a box of leftovers, rubbing himself against Derek’s side as he walks past to the couch. It makes his skin tingle, the sweat cooling making little goosebumps prick all down his arms and neck. God, his nipples even get tight. 

He shakes his head, tries not to read anything into it, grabs the twin styrofoam container, and flops down next to Stiles, flipping through the tv. As they bicker over what to watch and Derek smears sour cream over his cold nachos with his fingers, he puts his feet up on the coffee table, scoots to the edge of the couch to keep them bent, thighs spread wide. 

The hot, specific musk of sweaty balls starts to permeate the air and he doesn’t even realize he’s eagerly breathing it in, sat like this because that’s just what he wanted. But then Stiles is suddenly right there, practically plastered to his side. His eyes are still on the tv, but his head is tilted to get into Derek’s space. His nose wrinkles again, but this time a flush spreads to his cheeks and Derek can hear his heart start to race. 

Derek tries his best to be nonchalant, does the stereotypical nose pinch, sniff, then drop your hand to readjust maneuver, and watches closely to see Stiles’ nostrils flare with the freshened funk. The boy licks his lips. Derek’s own heart rate starts to sky rocket and he swears his skin suddenly feels so much tighter, his pulse making it physically twitch at his temples. 

He makes himself wait, even for just a minute, before clenching his jaw, spreading his knees, and letting out a short, loud fart as he grunts. It stinks. It’s warm in his sweatpants. It makes his dick hard. Stiles put his container down and a hand on Derek’s thigh. 

They don’t even say anything. Derek doesn’t even take the time to turn the tv off. He plants his hand on Stiles’ chest and shoves the kid into a laying position on the couch, then rips his jeans and briefs clean off. He gropes himself through his sweats a couple times while looking the surprisingly hairy boy over before shucking his own bottoms. 

Stiles’ chest is quivering, his little, fat cock is already wet. He lets out bubbling, excited little putters as he jitters in excitement. Derek just smirks at him, scratches at the thick meat of his thighs, and then brackets Stiles’ head with his knees. He smooths his hands up and down the boy’s fuzzy belly before leaning down, laying himself out along that skinny body, and lifting Stiles’ hips. 

He plants his face in the boy’s ass at the same time he sits his own on Stiles’ face and immediately rips another, feeling his dick spit at the vibration that continues as Stiles moans into it. Teeth and tongue, slobber and sweat, the warring sounds of wet, desperate sucking and dank, dirty rumbling trying to outdo each other as the most lewd and obscene. 

It’s only them two this time, but god if Derek doesn’t love it even more. 

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My friend, every day should be an Ian Nelson-Derek kind of day. You just mete out the hours between him and Tyler Hoechlin. :P 

[x]

Stiles swears he isn’t being a creeper. Staring at a teenage boy while he sleeps is a creeper-ish kind of thing to do, but he’s pretty sure Derek is only a year younger than him right now and besides, how could he not? Because that is Derek!!! That hella cute, frustratingly charming, stupidly stubborn, adorably unbeefy kid is Derek! 

He vacillates wildly between utter disbelief– when Derek throws him a saucy wink when no one’s looking– and absolute surety– when Derek just raises his eyebrows and instantly shames him. He definitely, for sure, wants the other Derek back (they have a talk they need to finish and fingers crossed some making out to do), but he can’t help clinging to this one. 

This kid doesn’t have all the jagged edges yet. He’s premium, uncut, grade A Derek. He’s gentle and shy in little moments, but totally swaggering and scoundrel-ish the next. He doesn’t spout shit about not being what Stiles needs, he just bodies him against walls and does this thing with his eyes that makes Stiles weak in the knees, then bites his bottom lip as he walks away .

And now he’s sleeping in Stiles’ bed, having sneaked back in through the window after that weird dinner with dad moment. It was almost like bringing his boyfriend over, like sneaking him in to fool around after. He feels totally, super creeper about leaning over to run his hands up Derek’s hairy calves– the blanket kicked off as that werewolf warmth made him restless as he slept. The staring was okay. Playing with his leg hair? Not really. 

But seeing Derek splayed out in nothing but ultra soft cotton boxers was at once, totally disarming, and insanely arousing. His nipples were still dusky, but a little pinker, though he was still somehow, fuzzy all across his chest and stomach, which were both strong, but soft. It was sexy in the moment, but also so cute to think about poor, little werewolf Derek being hairy as a man in the teenage locker room. 

Stiles couldn’t decide if he wanted to hold his hand or deep throat his dick more and the back and forth was maddening. Maddening enough to apparently warrant him sliding his hands up the other boy’s belly, just to see what that marbling of muscle and fat felt like. It jiggled a little and shit, oh shit, Stiles was so biting it. He was biting and it and licking a trail up to those soft pecs and nuzzling the shape of them before suckling the nipple. 

Holy fuck is he grinding his dick on Derek’s dick right now? It sure feels like two barely clothed bulges just sliding and bumping and flexing into each other. Derek’s stirring, groaning, turning a little in his sleep, but Stiles just reaches his deft fingers down to pop the little button on the slit in his boxers and then slithers down to watch as his sticky, uncut cock pushes out. 

His hands shake as he runs his nose up and down the shaft before sealing his lips to the head, swirling his tongue under the foreskin to taste. His eyes flutter shut as he sucks, hums, tongues the slit. It’s fucking intoxicating and Derek’s unkempt bush is tickling his nose and the boy is– fuck he’s coming. 

He’s coming in Stiles’ mouth and Stiles’ eyes are practically rolling back in his head, because fuck that’s hot and actually yummy and mother of god, he’s gotta get off too. It’s by far the stupidest thing he’s done tonight, but he kneels over Derek’s body and just fucks his fist until he’s spilling all over the other teen, moaning as it mats his body hair. 

The nut was good enough to just slump back to his blanket and pillow on the floor, dick out, and fall asleep. He wakes up with Derek’s balls bouncing on his face, the younger version of his crush coming all over his body. Well, all’s well that ends well, right?

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Derek sighs as Stiles leads him into the bedroom– their thick, dark curtains already drawn to block all the city light, fragrant candles lit, the sheets pulled back and a towel laid out– pushing him gently by the shoulders, then sliding his suit jacket off in one, fluid movement. His mate drapes it carefully over the chaise at the foot of their bed before moving on, shucking Derek’s suspenders, thumbing the buttons of his shirt, unclasping the garters from his socks and boxers. 

Derek closes his eyes and drinks in the pampering, reveling in Stiles’ deft, feather light touch. He’d objected the first time the young omega had tried this with him, not wanting him to feel like Derek expected certain duties of the boy, but in time he’d come to see just how much it did for both of them.

Stiles could always tell when he’d had a particularly rough day at the office– something in the set of his shoulders, the tightness around his temples, the gruffness of his voice. It had become routine now, for on those days, to allow himself to be treated. 

Now he crawled, naked, onto the bed, and laid on his stomach, breathing in deeply the scent of the two of them embedded deeply in their pillows. He’d been so unsure of Stiles at first– what a cliche for a stressed out businessman to breakdown and pay for a mail order bride– but now he’s not sure how he could live without his precious mate. 

All he’d expected, all he’d dared hope for was a little company, and somehow he’d been lucky enough to find the truest lover he’d ever known. Stiles’ long, sure fingers dug into his naked skin with infused oils, massaging at the tight knots and smoothing into all the forgotten crevices. He took his time with Derek, treated every inch of him, knew just how to get his overworked body to sing. 

Scratching the small of his back. Rolling each of his toes between his fingers. Tickling his hips. Reaching under to pinch his nipples. “Look at you. My strong, dedicated alpha. Work so hard to give us such a nice home. Gonna make sure it’s worth it. Gonna make sure it’s your paradise.” 

Derek flushes at the murmured words, skin hot and tingling, chest tight. He may be the breadwinner, but Stiles is the spine of their household, their relationship. He handles all the bills, their social calendar, their family and friends. He makes their food, finds time for vacations, even buys and wraps gifts “from Derek” and presents them to himself on more minor holidays. 

Derek wishes he could be half as useful, half as productive and make it worth Stiles’ while. The boy insists he couldn’t possibly be happier, but Derek always strives to give him more attention, affection, luxury. In return, the gods have gifted him this. 

He makes pathetic, needy sounds as Stiles’ hands turn to their premier task, the thing he’s sure they were designed for. His omega sits on the back of Derek’s thighs and kneads his hairy ass, digging into the wealth of meat in his cheeks before spreading them wide to expose his dusky hole. “So relaxed, so ready for me, baby. You’re opening up already, begging to be touched.” 

Derek whines, spreading his thighs and pushing his hips into the air to present. If any of his partners at the company knew that he wanted this– needed this– they’d burn his reputation to the ground. He’d never even asked Stiles for it– just squeaked and then groaned when his new mate walked into the shower and started to touch him there. 

Derek had very nearly cried in ecstasy and relief when his omega got him off like that. Derek was still embarrassed of it, but in the heat of their relations they’d gotten as far as eating each other sloppy while lying side by side, digging into each other with delirious need and making a mess of the sheets. 

But that was for saucier nights when Stiles strapped little vibrating beads to his knot and strutted around in fishnets. Right now he whispered in Derek’s ear, lithe body splayed out over his heated skin, small, fat cocklet worming into his alpha’s ass. It took so little prep to take his boy, and Derek loved feeling a little burn as the omega pushed in. 

Stiles held him by his hips, bit at his shoulders, rolled  through luxurious fucks that made Derek feel each and every inch of what his mate had, massaging his walls, making him clench around it. Stiles didn’t need that obscene, dripping tool to pleasure Derek in ways he’d never experienced, though sometimes they did have a toy that simulated a knot he could hang off and beg for. 

“Gonna come baby, touch me, please!” Derek lifted off the bed, showing his mate the angry swell of his engorged cock, the fat hang of his balls. Stiles cooed at him, combed his fingers through Derek’s bush, and then groped at his sex– squeezing his hangers and swirling a fingertip under his foreskin. 

Derek screamed as he came, gushing in violent jets of spunk over and over as his body jerked and writhed. Through it all, Stiles pet at his flanks, hushed and nuzzled at him like a spooked horse. Once Derek’s breathing settled and his eyes refocused and his heart slowed to a steady beat, he woke to Stiles’ smiling face, blushing cheeks. “You did so good, so good.” 

Derek rumbled his pleasure as Stiles combed through his sweat-damp hair, turning his head to kiss and bite at the underside of his mate’s wrist. His cock was still hard, knot pulsing, and he pulled his omega by his thighs to come and sit on it, ride it to his utter content. He watched with hooded eyes as Stiles dropped up and down on it, grinning and smiling. 

Derek’s worst days never ended anything but amazingly. 

Chapter Text

Stiles had thought being “welcomed into the family” was just a figure of speech, not an actual, multi-event process. When he started dating Derek, the charming, attractive man had warned him his family was a bit unconventional. This wasn’t exactly what Stiles was imagining. 

On Tuesday Derek’s cousin– a super model looking douchebag with an attitude problem– drove into Stiles’ work with a fucking Tesla and said he was taking Stiles to lunch, his manager better not be expecting him back for a few hours. Stiles didn’t even get enough time to say that wasn’t really how things worked at the police station before he was being pushed into the passenger seat and NASCAR-ed to one of those fancy fucking brunch places downtown. 

Jackson ordered for him, made creepily intense eye contact while they waited for their food, and then dragged his foot up and down Stiles’ calf the entire time they ate. The portions were abysmal, but the food was delicious and Jackson only smacked his hand away from the bread basket once before scoffing and letting him at it. They found their common ground in bitchily judging all the pretentious outfits around them and by the time Jackson was dabbing at his lips and handing a black card over, it wasn’t really all that bad a time. 

Then the guy guided him out of the restaurant with a hand on the small of his back, which was a little… much. If only Stiles had known that was gonna be the least of it. Instead he stood there, shocked, as Jackson pushed him up against the fucking space car, groped him through his uniform, and shoved his tongue down Stiles’ throat. 

All he could think about was Derek smiling as he rubbed Stiles’ shoulder, murmuring, “They’re gonna show you such a good time, babe.” Suddenly those words sounded a lot different as this Hale started unbuckling his belt and pushing Stiles into the passenger seat. “Derek said you’re cool with kink and I like semi public, so just keep your eye out.” 

And that was how Stiles, in his deputy uniform, blew his boyfriend’s cousin in a parking lot on main street. When he got back to work he would have sworn it were a fever dream if not for the taste of cum stuck on his tongue and Derek calling him later, ecstatic that Jackson had reported back a lovely luncheon and an even better nut. So this was definitely a planned thing. Okay, sure. Stiles could handle this. Probably. 

It certainly made him change his expectations for his day off, which Peter, Derek’s uncle had claimed. They were due to go yachting and Stiles put his fishing rod and tackle box back in the closet in favor of some condoms and muscle relaxants. 

“My son tells me your tongue does wicked things.” Peter doesn’t even feign normalcy as he gropes Stiles’ ass the second he’s on the boat an offers him a champagne glass. Stiles is sure that shit’s expensive, but he’s got it downed before Peter can tap his taint with those roaming fingers. “That’s quite the compliment coming from him, you should know. Trying to get that boy off usually takes hours and power tools.” 

The grin Peter gives him is… wow, just not suitable for a guy his age. He offers to lotion Stiles up for suntanning, wants them to go skinny dipping together, wears a speedo when they settle for the hot-tub on deck. Stiles is sloshed by mid afternoon and Peter is naked. He sucks Stiles off till his dick is sore and then feeds him cum covered strawberries as they had back to port. 

It was definitely not his favorite boat trip ever, but at least the strawberries were ripe and Derek has a cold compress waiting for his groin when he gets home. His boyfriend is so deliriously happy about it, having obviously never convinced anyone else to come this far before, that Stiles can’t help but feel good about it by the time he falls into sleep. 

He’s only got one to go and that’s not till Sunday, so he imagines he’s pretty much good to go. Somehow he’s the least surprised when he’s woken up by the sounds of Derek getting fucked by his dad right next to him. Stiles snuffles as he watches his boyfriend moan and spread his thighs as the man that raised him plows into his ass and gropes his pecs. 

Stiles doesn’t even say anything as he blearily trots through the en suite to piss, rinses his mouth with Listerine, and then lines up behind the Hale patriarch to slide into his ass as Derek cries, “Oh, dad, I’m gonna come!” 

The three of them have breakfast in bed, flipfuck till one, then soap each other up in the shower to be presentable for dinner with the sheriff by six. He’s can’t look his own dad in the eye the entire time, but Derek proposes out on the back patio and Stiles can’t help but say yes. 

Shivers run down his spine when Peter purrs that he can’t wait to plan their engagement party. 

Chapter Text

It took me some time to get an idea of what I wanted this to be. :P Just because I always write Derek and Peter as having a messed up kind of relationship, even if it’s mildly. It took me a bit of time to think about how I wanted to portray them when happy and sweet, so I hope I did an okay job! 

It was going to happen eventually, that’s just how it works. Derek was never gonna stay Peter’s sweet, little boy. He’d been trying to ignore that fact, had carried on acting, dressing, expecting the same. But when he looked at the two of them together at parties recently, it wasn’t his darling uncle and the twinky boy toy he kept on his arm anymore. 

Derek was tall, he was muscled, and he was chunky on top of that. Tummy tops were no longer flattering. Skinny jeans left red marks on his hips. None of the other older men cooed at him and told Peter they were so jealous and tried to steal Derek off of him. Instead he nearly seemed a faux pas in their regular scene. All the other boys gave him looks as he indulged at the refreshments, laid himself across his uncle, begged for kisses. 

It was the same way he’d always acted, but now he wasn’t sixteen. Now he couldn’t eat anything and everything he wanted without consequence. Now he didn’t lightly drape over anything. Now he wasn’t demure and adorable. He knew it, how could Derek not? He just thought that if maybe he didn’t bring it up, his uncle might not notice. 

Because the man was rich and handsome and charming and he could get himself  a new boy any time he wanted. They all tittered around him and gossiped about the rumored size of his cock. Derek used to be able to keep them in their place with possessive growls and withering glances, but now they all just scoffed at him and poked at his gut. 

He wondered if he should just stop embarrassing himself, slink out in the middle of the night with his tail between his legs. He didn’t really know what he would do, he didn’t know anything else. It had always been the two of them, like this. Maybe he could sell himself to the streetside kind of johns, but who wanted a chubby trick? Even there, the boys were better than him too. 

Derek tried not to be sullen about it, his uncle so hated to see him sulk. He’d always been a sucker for his nephew, spoiled him rotten and doted on him hand and foot. If Derek gave off his gloomy mood, Peter would try and make it better– would eat his ass out for hours, would buy him a new car, would pack up their things and take them on a Mediterranean trip. 

Derek didn’t want any of that– well, maybe not the last two– he just wanted them together, in their home, always. Lately he’d been losing sleep over it, staring at his uncle’s body in the dark. He hadn’t lost it. Sure, he was notably older, but Peter worked hard to at least stay 40 year old fit. He’d never have a six pack again or biceps that rivaled the gym bunnies, but his hips were still sharp, his pecs round. Derek felt embarrassed next to him. He’d found stretch marks on the back of his thighs in the mirror yesterday. 

“You’ve been losing all kinds of beauty sleep, love. And you’re making me lose it in turn.” Peter turns his head, feigned sleep utterly convincing. He’s making a face Derek can’t quite read in the dark now, and he reaches out to run his hands through the thick treasure trail on Derek’s belly. “What’s bothering you? Tell me, I can fix it. I’d do anything.” 

Derek’s eyes shutter closed and he whines as he rolls into the touch, dick already stirring from Peter’s attentions. He dutifully spreads his legs to show it off and is rewarded with his uncle’s pleased hum. Another hand drifts down to start playing with him through his boxers, getting him fully erect. “Turn over, dear.”

Derek flips to his back and puts his arms above his head, splaying himself like he’s always done, making himself a treat for Peter to indulge in. He hears the shifting of fabric and then Peter is straddling him, pulling his cock out of his boxers, and holding it still as he sighs and seats himself on it. They’d fucked just a few hours ago and his uncle is still wet from it, so Derek tries to focus on the feeling of his own spunk lubing the way instead of his little anxieties. 

Despite everyone’s whisperings, the perceived idea of how this kind of relationship works, Peter rarely tops. Even when Derek was just a boy, his uncle loved being bent over for his slender teen cock. And Peter is hung. Maybe not particularly long, but fatter than any other dick Derek’s seen. Still, this is what he loves, and no matter what, Derek will always give it to him. 

He holds Peter’s hips as the older man slides up and down him, slow and sensuous like he likes. Derek’s hands roam up his stomach, play with his nipples, scratch at his ribs, grope at his ass. “Uncle, I’m gonna come.” 

“Knot first, sweetheart.” Derek whimpers, but holds on until he starts to swell, timing his attempt to push his knot it and lock just right so he doesn’t start to spray until after they’re tied together. Peter loves to milk him for it, loves to make him cry from how good it is. 

Once they’re stuck, Peter’s eyes open and lock right on Derek’s, something scarily intense in them. “You’re so beautiful, Derek. Always have been, always will be. The most gorgeous thing in my life. I’ve wanted nothing so completely as I do you. From the first time you called my name. 

“Don’t you know that? I’ve dedicated my life to making sure we could be together, like this. It was and continues to be a lot of work, but it’s worth it. You’re worth it. I would give up every luxury I’ve ever had if it meant I got to keep you. So enough of the nonsense, eh? I miss my cocky boy all full of sass and smiles.” 

Peter reaches down to wipe away the tears running down his nephew’s cheeks and Derek smiles at him before sucking that thumb into his mouth. He bites and licks at it while his uncle plays with his soft tits and rounded belly. They fuck till the sun comes up. The next gathering, Derek wears booty shorts that plaster to his fat ass and show off the meat of his thighs. Every man in the room can’t keep his eyes off the bounce and shake and Peter has to quietly threaten their destruction if they so much as think of touching his boy. 

The little twinks despair. 

Chapter Text

I don’t really write non-con, but dub can definitely be done in this instance! 

It’s a Saturday detention. Derek knew it was total bullshit, but didn’t bother to fight Harris on it. Now he had the excuse to dodge his friends nagging him about finding a suitable date for the dance, and the opportunity to hound after his favorite, blushing omega. 

Mr. S was every teenage alpha’s absolute wet dream. Plush, pink lips. Soft, sensual body. A fiery disposition to buck back against. Derek had been laying his claim since the first day the sheriff’s son came back from college and started a new position at his old school. The other guys tried to challenge him on it for a while, but Derek had fucked every contender and showed them why his knot was the only one Mr. S would be choking on. 

It had felt good to put all those other alphas on their bellies and spread their legs, but he was sure it couldn’t compare to the gushing, molten heat of a ripe omega, shaking for him. Mr. S tried to act like he didn’t want it– told Derek off, pushed him away, stared him down after lewd, public comments– but it just made him harder in his jeans and he had no problem showing that off to his teacher, jutting his crotch under his desk and sweeping possessive hands over the man as he passed by after the bell rang. 

Derek hadn’t planned for things to go down the way they did, but that’s what made it all the sweeter. Mr. S’s wide, beautiful eyes humming with shock as he stepped into the room, saw the only student he’d be responsible for was the only one he couldn’t possibly be left alone with. But he stayed. 

Derek watched him contemplate leaving, but Mr. S shut the door behind him, walked to the whiteboard, and calmly wrote down the usual list of acceptable activities. Derek chewed his lips as he imagined those deft fingers teasing his knot, groping his ass to pull him in deeper. It was one of his favorite notions. He almost missed the chance to ogle Mr. S’s ass before he sat down, almost missed noticing the extra puff of padding. 

Derek’s pretty sure his dick spat pre the second he noticed his teacher toting a slick shield. The guy was going into heat, close enough to need pads to keep from soaking through the seat of his pants. It instantly made Derek grope himself, and he didn’t stop when Mr. S sat down, cast eyes at him, raised a brow. 

“I don’t believe that’s an approved activity, Mr. Hale. Hands above the surface, please.” His voice was level, but there was sweat pooling in his cupid’s bow and his lashes were fluttering. He wanted it, Derek could tell. Maybe he’d never say, but he did. Derek loved that about him, didn’t want to bash that pride, even as he bent the older man over. He could give Mr. S what he needed, without having to make him beg. 

“You wet yet? I’ve never gotten to taste. In porn omegas are always gushing down their thighs and the fucking idiots gather it up and shove it back in. I wanna drink it, straight from the source.” Derek did what he was told, brought his hands up from his crotch, but just pushed them under his shirt, dragging the hem up to show off the dark body hair, muscle starting to define, his pert nipples. He pinched at one, rolled it and bucked in his seat. “Bet it’s thick like honey.” 

Mr. S had the decency to blush– whole face glowing red– but Derek could smell him gush. Sharp, like clove, burning in his nose, but then soothed with the tacky sweetness of creamed butter. “Behave. You’re no longer a whelp, Mr. Hale. Bratty isn’t attractive.” 

And oh, if that wasn’t the wrong move to make him stop. A challenge? Derek’s blood fucking sang and a low rumble burred deep in his chest as he stood, stalked, slunk to touch the omega asking for teeth at his throat and cock in his cunt. His eyes flashed and Derek popped the button on his jeans, showed his teacher the thick tangle of bush beneath the denim. No other barrier between them. 

Mr. S’s lashes fluttered, Derek saw his nostrils flare. The bitch was scenting his musk, evaluating the virility of his stud. If they were in centuries past, wild again, they’d be sampling each others’ piss to know the potency of pheromones. As it was, Derek took out his cock and dragged it across his teacher’s face, letting the tacky skin stick and catch and leave a trail before he stopped the mouth of his sticky foreskin right under that upturned nose and jerked his hips to slap his fat, breeder balls under the older man’s chin. 

“You’re right. Not a whelp, a massive stud. Lookit you, shaking for it.” Derek pulled the hood back over his dark dickhead, showing off the way it’s glistening, before shoving it into his teacher’s mouth. His hand snapped out to hold the older man’s nose closed, forcing him to keep his lips open, just long enough to drag his taste all across the omega’s tongue. 

Then Mr. S’s eyes glowed gold and his shoulders went slack and he pushed far down enough to drool in the folds of Derek’s low hanging sack. “Be quiet. Step away from the windows. If you spit on me, I’ll cut your balls off.” The omega gave in, but not like a petite, polite thing. Derek grinned as the older man still glared at him, drug nails down his skin, told him to find a fucking rhythm already, I’m not a fleshlight, and was a genuine menace. 

Made it all the more fun when his head rolled back and he soaked Derek’s bush and whimpered as the teen tied him while sucking at the hollow of his throat. And once Derek’s knot slid free with the sloppiest sucking noise, he dropped into it a crouch, letting the wet thing dangle and slap at his thighs while he sucked the fat load he’d just left out of his teacher’s ass. 

The musked salt of his own spunk– like savory scones made with hemp milk– paired so well with the dry menthol of Mr. S’s honeyed eucalyptus slick. Derek nearly choked guzzling it down, making a mess of his cheeks and jaw as he burrowed between the cheeks and made his teacher squirt with the drag of his tongue, scrape of his teeth, suction of his hollowed cheeks. 

When he came back up for air, dragging the mess over the older man’s fluttering belly, Mr. S ran possessive hands through his hair, put knees over his shoulders. Derek kissed at his treasure trail, nibbled his navel, growled as his nosed in his pubes. “Mine,” he grunted, scraping teeth over pale, spotted skin. “Fought and fucked for it. Mine.” 

Chapter Text

Can you even imagine though? Chris calmly standing at the front of the classroom with thin, latex gloves on, inviting Derek and Stiles to the front. Him asking them to remove their clothes and then slowly presenting and going over their bodies to the rest of the students.

Bending Stiles over the desk, parting his cheeks to show them that creamy, omega hole. Asking Derek to put the boy’s face in his crotch so he can smell alpha pheromones and then slowly circling Stiles’ rim as it gets wetter and wetter, making the class ooh and ah as it starts to run down the teen’s thighs. 

All the while Chris is placidly telling them the names of the organs that create these secretions and their functionality. Then he has Derek step out and without hesitance, swipes that gathered slick onto the alpha’s upper lip. And Derek’s eyes flutter closed and he starts making low rumbling noises as his cock gets hard. 

Chris would heft his massive, hairy balls in the palm of his hand, comparing Derek’s obscene breeding junk to Stiles’ compact version. Then he’d ask for the omega to suckle Derek’s balls so that his knot will start to swell and Chris will circle it with his finger and thumb, showing how tight the lock would be. 

Finally, he asks Derek to sit in a chair and for Stiles to straddle his lap and the students all watch as they mate, enraptured by watching Derek’s knot slowly work into Stiles’ cunt and then get tied. And they all get to come up when the two of them are sweaty and breathless and clinging to each other and touch Stiles’ rim and inspect the way Derek’s balls are jerking with the load he’s pumping into his mate. 

Chris would pet their hair and tell them that they did a wonderful job, were of great assistance, and would they be up to another demonstration tomorrow? Of course, not much later, they get to be the examples in another section of study, when Stiles has a round belly and leaking tits. ;) 

Chapter Text

Haha, well I’m glad that you’re enjoying this blog as intended. ;) And I’m glad that old fics are still getting some attention! Especially that one since no one really asked for it. :P 

And incidentally, there seems to be a mighty need for some more Derek/Parrish, which I’m always happy to fulfill. 

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Parrish bears the brunt of his frustrations. In the weeks to come, that boy’s confident smirk still stuck in his head, Derek has a lot to work out. He hasn’t been able to find the guy anywhere and the blue balls from just thinking about him nearly drove Derek mad, until he found the perfect receptacle to keep him just sated enough not to froth at the mouth while continuing his search.

The best part is he never has to go searching for Parrish. Somehow the slutty twunk always knows when he’s needed. In general he’s always hanging about, looking for attention from the other brothers to occupy his day. Derek doesn’t pay him much mind because if you’ve chatted with one frat bro, you’ve chatted with them all and they don’t make much of a point of refreshing their topics of conversation.

But when he’s chomping at the bit, when he feels like he’s gonna burst right out of his skin, tackle the next thing that moves and fuck it right into the floor— suddenly they’re alone together and Parrish is half-naked and looking at him with those doe eyes that play up the innocence act so well. And Derek just grins.

Jordan’s so transparent— ducks his head so Derek can twine fingers in his hair and shove him to his knees. He doesn’t make a sound as the other boys cheer in the background, huddled in the living room for a game or a fight or the latest thriller. Derek gets to mash that pretty face into his hairy crotch, hold Parrish there until he inhales— breathing in Derek’s pent up musk, eyelashes fluttering as his mouth opens warm and wet.

All he needs is the suction. He can do the rest himself. In fact, most times now, he simply shoves a thumb in the hinge of Jordan’s mouth, pries it wide, and rests his fat, sweaty nuts inside to feel the eager suckle against sensitive skin and swollen flesh. He can tip his head back, close his eyes, breathe heavy through his nose, and imagine he’s teaching another boy a lesson— one with amber eyes and the dumbest fucking lips.

The slide of tongue, the brush of teeth, the ghosts of breath. It’s enough to drive him to the edge while he pulls and pinches and swirls his finger inside his foreskin. And when he’s ready, he plants a foot to Jordan’s chest— shoves him to his back and strips his own cock fast enough to keep the momentum and paint his brother from the collar bone down. He always makes sure to leave a good portion of the mess soaked into the crotch of Parrish’s sweatpants, leaving his mark.

It’s enough. For now.

Chapter Text

Y’all asked and you can’t take that back. :P The genie doesn’t go back in the bottle. I don’t think I’ve just outright, full on written this fetish before, so enjoy. 

Gassy sex is some of the best sex someone can have, Derek is sure of it. There’s just something about indulging in a rich, hearty meal, feeling the lethargic swell of it in your stomach, and then getting to fuck right after. The way it’s so slow and easy. Pulling Parrish into his lap and just kissing and kissing and kissing for a while because they don’t have the energy or flexibility for anything else.

Late night television in on in the background, a couple empty beer bottles on the floor, their deputy uniforms discarded for the loosest sweats with nothing underneath. After the long, long work weeks this is how they best like to relax— utter release. No self consciousness, no repression.

Jordan sucks his tongue while Derek moans and his eyes close as he lifts his ass in a burbling, drawn out fart. It finally spurs them into greater energy— Parrish starting to squirm in his lap, Derek pulling him closer, groping at his ass in turn. As he pulls and kneads and mashes the soft cheeks, he feels warmth bloom across his fingers and the stink of them both intensifies.

Parrish pushes him to lay down eventually, rubs Derek’s hairy, sweaty belly in large, soothing circles as the other man wriggles in discomfort for a bit, insides tight. But then Parrish spreads his thighs, pushes his legs up behind his knees, and moans as he grinds his bulge into Derek’s ass as he releases another bout of gas.

It feels even better when they’re naked, when Derek’s asshole is thoroughly slicked and Parrish has pushed his way inside. It drives him insane when he feels the blush of heat waft against his balls, the flutter of Derek’s walls as the loud, braying sound escapes. He loves how Derek tightens up after, blushes even as his dick spits, how the man can’t resist snuffling at the air.

It never takes long to finish— good thing as it never takes long to get drowsy from the comfort food either. But there’s one last part, one last treat from it. Derek’s eyes flash bright, dick still hard and leaking, as he threads his fingers through Jordan’s hair, pushes his head down, guides his open mouth and outstretched tongue just beneath the fat, hairy hang of his balls.

Derek always make a point of grunting loud and hard, making it visceral as he sprays his boyfriend’s load back out onto his face in a sputtering, smelly bout. And as Jordan moans and smothers his face between those fat cheeks, sucks and licks at the sticky rim, intoxicates himself on it all, Derek finally comes.

Who needs date night when you’ve got Netflix, pasta, and a piggy partner?

Chapter Text

(2/?) stare at Derek’s thickening cock. Those heavy breeder balls snugged up tight to it because for some reason Derek doesn’t like to use the slit in his briefs, prefers to tug the waistband down until it’s cupping his sac, a nice little oerch while he pisses, one hand steady on his cock, maybe stroking just a bit as he goes, other hand scratching at his now dense treasure trail. And Stiles fixates on those few droplets Derek can’t quite shake off, unconsciously licking his lips. Derek notices. 

(3/?) He noticed a lot. Catches Stiles waiting to rush in to brush his teeth or get his deodorant or grab a towel, any little thing whenever Derek is going in for a piss. Sees the way Stiles is starting to tent his boxers, wonders when his little brother is gonna do something about it. Starts to devise ways to push him into action. He starts waiting on his showers, going for runs in the morning, letting the musk build over a few days, makes sure to leave a little piss on his dick when he puts

(4/?) his dick away. Watches Stiles’ gaze flit to the tiny wetspots on Derek’s tighty whities. Gives in whenever the kid wants to wrestle, especially when it’s been a few days since his last shower, makes sure to get Stiles wrapped up, nose pressed in his pits or near his groin, feels the kid inhaling, his little cock hardening against Derek’s leg. It’s always faster if the kid’s nose is pressed in near Derek’s dick. The pungent smell of piss wafting out of his shorts 

(5/6) It all comes to a head one day when Derek made sure to leave his dick pretty wet after his morning piss. It rubbed a little uncomfortable during his run, but it was worth it to see the flush on Stiles’ cheeks, the hungry look in his eyes. Derek figured Stiles would make a move soon. He dropped his clothes in the hamper, had a shower. Only, when he gets out he can see the underwear are missing. And there’s really only one possibility. He goes to Stiles’ room, pushes open the not quite 

Ah! For some reason, I didn’t get the last of these, which is a total shame because I was very much enjoying where it was going. :P I can infer from context that it was going to be very fun though. 

I quite love the idea that it starts out with Derek learning this about himself though. As he goes through puberty and starts figuring out masturbation and gets those maturation pamphlets they give to boys about washing their balls and wearing deodorant and shit, he figures out that those things are entwined for him. He realizes he always gets stiffies in the locker room and likes to see the other boy’s stained, skidded, smelly underwear, he finds himself wanting to steal their used jocks and corner them in the showers before they can wash off all their sexy musk. 

He loves the animal side of himself, playing with his new, dark, thick hair, huffing his ripe pits as he wanks, spreading his legs to have the pungence of his dirty cock and balls waft up to him. And he loves to get off. Masturbates three or four times a day. Loves to let his cum spray all over his body, rub it into his skin and hair, let it crust his bush and shorts. 

He’s just a filthy fuckin kid and loving it and he only notices that it’s affecting Stiles when his little brother meekly asks one day if they can share the bowl– playing up a need to pee dance while Derek was already pulling his junk out. And so somehow they’re standing with their naked sides and thighs touching, still sleep warm, as they both piss into the same toilet. And Stiles is breathing heavy, his toes tentatively curling over Derek’s and Derek can’t help but notice the kid get hard as he pees. He himself chubs up in reply. 

The idea of having a filthy little partner in all of his excites Derek right away. Imagine the fun of sharing it, of doubling the stink? He’d love to sniff at Stiles’ cute, little ass. The boy’s just starting to get peach fuzz now, but he’s all limbs and so curious and adoring. It would be so fun to smother him in his big brother’s musk and see if the boy develops his own. 

He starts being loud when he jerks it, loud enough for Stiles to hear through the connected bathroom. He leaves all the doors open so Stiles only has to peek through his own to see. And when he does, Derek invites him in, says it’s big kid stuff and he can show Stiles how it works. And fuck if his little brother’s spindly fingers don’t feel amazing playing with his foreskin, hefting his hairy, sweaty balls, shyly ghosting over his asshole. 

At first Stiles just plays with him and creams his own shorts without letting Derek see or give back. But it doesn’t take long for Stiles to want more and more and soon their weekends are happily spent edging the other, devolving into filthy, lusty things. There’s no washing up to be had as they coat one another in sweat and spit and piss and cum, writhing in the mess of it. 

They can’t wait for it to get even better, when they start inviting classmates to stay the night and play along. 

Chapter Text

It’s a simple enough agreement– one made with firmly shaken hands and eye contact so intense all of them held their breath while it was happening– Derek proved himself and therefore, his pack, more man than beast and so bought them a pass on the Winchester radar. As an added bonus to help ferry others of their kind away from the sleepy town, he showed them how much fun it could be to let the animal out. 

Some would say that it was coerced. Those that did obviously had never seen nor smelled the Winchester brothers before. Tall, gorgeous, gruff, grimy. Their life on the road left their clothes tattered and unwashed, their bodies ripe, their energy all pent up. 

Derek could scent the sweat and piss and cum soaked into their skin, drearily, clumsily wiped away in truckstop bathrooms and off the side of the road. They probably thought they job they did was fine enough, didn’t realize they’d gone blind to the truth of it after years of normalization. The reeked of raunchy men that ached to stretch and fuck and sleep. 

Derek intended to make sure they left the town a little enlightened to their situation. Sam blushed when he took off his boots and seemed to realize the severe stink of his long, flat feet for the first time. Dean chuckled until he manspread on the couch and the dank of his swamped nutsack seeped all through the room. Derek rumbled low and deep in pleasure as he pushed both their faces into the damp, dark curls of his pits and they paused only a second before starting to sniff and lick. 

Sam asked if he should leave the room and come back when they started to get naked. Dean averted eye contact when Derek splayed on his back and begged for one cock between his cheeks, the other dripping on his tongue. The brothers tried to focus on just him as Sam’s breath hitched when Derek sniffed his dick and sucked the grimy creases of his thighs, Dean’s soft belly trembled as he dragged his cock through the hairy crack of Derek’s ass and felt old loads in his hole. 

Didn’t take long before they were messily making out over him as they fucked Derek from both ends, whimpering and moaning like they were starving as they sucked on each others’ tongues and bit lips. After they came, Derek pushed them together, made them rut their tacky, raunchy fronts, squirming and groping in their after orgasm buzz. Inhibitions gone, they frotted their sticky cocks and swinging balls like they couldn’t get enough of the dirty taboo. 

Derek sent them off by wanking over their forms and then pissing down their skin to sluice the seed into their crusty pubes. He didn’t doubt their rank would only get worse, but that antsy road tension would be much more enthusiastically dealt with from now on. That’s for sure. 

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Jackson wanted this to be beneath him. Maybe he knew it was and that’s what made it so hot. Maybe it just felt good to be put in a place he felt he deserved. He’d be unpacking the notion for hours after, he knows, but in the moment, the urge eats him up like a fever he can’t sweat out. He moans as hairy toes are pushed into his open mouth and arches his back when slender, deft soles massage against his drippy cock, smearing the mess against his inner thigh. 

The tv is on full blast in the background– some months old action flick blaring to life in the den of the frat house. Hardly anyone is paying it attention though as he lies naked on the carpet, cum in his ass and down his chest and matting his hair and eyelashes. His Big, and incidentally, older cousin, smirks down at him as Jackson licks in between each of his toes, dick spitting at the taste of them, at the tangy smell that fills his nose. 

He clenches his freckled thighs around Isaac’s feet as they press ever so slowly into his balls, toenails flicking at the underside of his dickhead to make him whine and buck. Theo bumps Isaac with his hip to get a little room, watching with wonder as he pushes his big toe at the rim of Jackson’s hole, breath hitching as it slowly, slowly sinks in. 

Jackson clenches around it and his eyes water with the want to cum, but his balls are so spent already all he can manage is to dribble some piss against his own hip. Derek chuckles and looks around at his chapter, his frat bros all jacking their cocks while they wait for their turn to play with the foot slut. “Told you guys he’d be the perfect fit.” 

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They had to be careful. Of course they did, who would let them stay together or share a room if they knew the brothers were fucking? Writing stuff off as just regular, acceptable teenage stink was a thin line to walk. Derek always reeked of the locker room, Stiles of a kid that hadn’t yet learned how to take care of himself, but sex smelled different and the things they loved to do to each other were definitely more intense than forgetting deodorant or not washing their balls. 

But, luckily, parents are busy, and kids get this whole swath of sudden free time in the form of summer. Their mom and dad had thought the two of them would bitch and moan about having to stay in the house a lot instead of getting to rove around the town freely, having to watch each other since the both of the adults were slammed with work. But they put up zero fight. 

The place was theirs. For days at a time they’d have virtually no interference, no eyes or questions. Derek practically makes a den for them. Their bedroom is no good, they have to have somewhere to keep up the facade, but the basement? He drags blankets and pillows to make a filthy nest for them. They sweat and cum and piss freely, soaking themselves and making crusty, stained messes of their clothes and bedding. 

Neither can remember the last time they used the can, they last showered, they last slept in their beds or put clothes on. Stiles sleeps with his nose nestled in Derek’s crunchy pubes, nuzzling and kitten licking like he’s a little kid sucking his thumb for comfort. Derek wakes him by licking at his tender boy cock, humming as Stiles wets himself inside his brother’s warm mouth and then gets to lick the tangy taste from his tongue. 

They get so intertwined it’s hard to even tell one’s scent from the other, them living for and by each other. They’re lucky their incapable of pregnancy. The ship would have long sailed on that and they both love the sight, smell, and taste of their spunk on another to ever glove up. 

Stiles tells Derek he loves him. Derek promises this will last for every summer after. 

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For a while, he rationed it away. He was a wolf, after all. He’d spent so much time alone. He didn’t want to get hurt by anyone again. He didn’t want to hurt anyone himself. 

But after a while, after continuing the behavior long past plausible deniability, Derek had to confront himself with the truth that he just liked fucking animals. And after an afternoon of consideration, he found himself wholly okay with that. 

He lived out on the preserve by himself, owned a foundation to protect the wildlife there, shared his home with any stray that needed it– so what if he took carnal comfort in their company? Hell, he didn’t even make himself shift to do it anymore. Not if he didn’t want to, that is. 

It was still fun to lumber about the woods in his hulking wolf form– pleasantly surprise a stag by catching it, dicking it, and letting it go, wrestling with a bear for supremacy and happily getting reamed when he lost, knotting a family dog in full view of the camper and panting when the teenage boy left to watch it while his family hiked dropped trow and jacked off to the feral fucking. 

But now he also got to wander about his house and grounds naked, chuckle when some of his mutts started licking his unwashed cock and balls at the breakfast table, sampling the cum dried from last night while Derek happily munched on cereal and spread his legs. He got to idly read books with the smaller breeds fucking him on the couch, patting their heads and adjusting their grips around his waist so they could plow deeper. He had to abandon the length and prehensility of his wolf tongue, but didn’t have to work around a maw to spoil his dinner, greedily guzzling their cum as he licked their warm, salty cocks. 

Because it wasn’t a selfish thing. He wasn’t some aggressive, narcissistic deviant. Any time he engaged with one of the animals, he made sure they enjoyed it too. He didn’t always make sure they came first, but they never left with a dry dick or full balls. He loved to pleasure them, that’s a big part of where his own enjoyment came from. 

Listening to them all huff and pant and growl their need, feeling their frantic pistoning, watching their furry balls draw up and their naked dicks drool. God it made him hot. He loved to just jack them off, play with sheathes and grip at knots. He loved to lick and them, breathe in their dirty musk and taste their seed. And he loved to spread his fat, hairy ass and let them have at, twisting his nipples and chewing his lips as they bred him over and over. 

He sometimes missed human company, wished for someone to share it all with. But that didn’t last long either. Eventually the boy, that sweet, little voyeur, found his cabin and came knocking with a duffel bag over his shoulder and shy, needy offer. Derek took him in easy, fed him up, threw away his clothes, and showed him the first night how to grip a stud’s tail to hold him still while fucking his hole without hurting him. The kid took to it easy, eyes wide with wonder as his slim boy cock slid into the warm leavings Derek had slicked the dog’s cunt with. And he even jacked off his bitch’s doggy dick while fucking without any guidance. 

It didn’t even take an afternoon for Derek to convince himself it was okay, enjoying fucking this fourteen year old boy as much as he did his beasts, and no consideration at all to let the cub call him daddy from here on out as Derek dp-ed his little ass with a german shepherd. He even loved the boy so much, he bought the kid a horse for his birthday, though that turned out to be a gift for the both of them. 

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To say it was unexpected would be the understatement of the century. To say it was embarrassing was even more so. It would just be a cutesy statement of love if one of them had gotten pregnant, but the both of them? And at different times? They’d already had the big announcement and been planning a shower three months into Derek’s pregnancy, excitedly waiting for the bump. Then Stiles started to feel funny and god, the looks they got when everyone realized they’d been having horny, hormone fucks. 

They basically decided to sequester themselves. It was just easier to get chubby together at home, alone, with no expectations for their behavior. Derek could walk around shirtless all day with sticky milk leaking from his heavy tits and no one stared. Stiles could use one hand to idly finger his soppy hole while the other folded pizza into his mouth and no one stared. 

It was a pregnant paradise for the two of them, filled with any food their cravings desired, lots of cocoa butter, and more orgasms than they’d been having before, which really said something. Foot and belly rubs often turned into Stiles sucking Derek’s sweet, musky nipples, turned into Derek groping Stiles’ ass, turned into them frotting against the hairy swell of each others’ swollen bellies until both the rounds were covered in sweat and cum. 

But that did little to sate anyone. Turns out werewolf babies came in litters and having that many buns in the oven meant cranking up the hormones to eleven. So all that served as just foreplay. The first couple orgasms were just them winding up. They always needed more and they wanted to be filled. It was what got them into this situation in the first place– both absolutely greedy when they bottomed. 

They’d ordered the toy long before it ever became a necessity– Stiles because he thought it was hilarious, Derek because an eighteen inch dildo was useful all on its own. The guy had self-fisted before, that was nothing. But God, did Stiles ever take it seriously when they were both turtled on the floor, ass to sweaty ass as they moved the warm silicone between them, groaning as their legs tangled and their balls mashed. 

They’d lay there for hours, trading orgasms back and forth, luxuriating in the unhurried ease. Derek basically built them a nest on the floor, content to fuck and doze and cuddle as they day went on and they didn’t budge. Stiles had a feeling after the pups came, it wouldn’t be long till they were knocked up all over again. 

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“Now, now boys. Wait your turn.” Joseph lost track a long time ago of exactly which was which, how old they all were, why he’d resisted in the first place. Surrounded by a gaggle of eager, needy little blonde haired, blue eyed boys, he was all too happy to take care of them however they needed. Sometimes that meant cooking massive meals to keep them sated, doing as much laundry as he could keep up with, those sorts of domestic things. 

Most times, it meant this– completely naked, legs raised high and spread wide, hands holding his own ass open as they all vied for a spot, little cocklets hard and leaky, desperate to be stuffed in his sloppy hole. Usually he was open and slick enough they could fit a couple inside at a time, long as they cooperated and positioned correctly. 

His thighs shook and ached, sweaty with the effort to keep himself wide for them, but they were too little to hold up his heavy limbs, so he persevered, craning his neck to watch past his swollen stomach, moaning as he rubbed at the fine fuzz covering it. Their watery loads wouldn’t take until he birthed the latest batch of their siblings, sons, nephews, but they all still put their little hands over his own as they stutter fucked into him, cooing at the little ones inside while past loads gushed out around their peachy balls. 

Some couldn’t wait, walked around to rub their crotches in his face, even sometimes their asses, whining at him to lick and suck and make them feel good too. It was all too easy to fall into the usual trance, not even noticing the hours go by as he’s filled from each end, coated in their thin spunk and sweat and piss, until eventually he realizes he’s left alone, tottering on the couch, swollen and sticky. He usually brings himself off, fumbling to reach his cock beneath the hang of his belly, lazily rubbing at the head until he spurts, adding to the mess. 

He only lets himself relax a moment, fighting to hold his pressured bladder and usually failing, before getting up to make the boys a snack. His hungry little guys are always at their most ravenous after fucking their daddy. 

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Don’t be mad at me folks, but I only watched the first TMR film and I tried to read the book, but I couldn’t finish the first chapter because it was like… anti-compelling. :P But I do know the basic premise and could probably be refreshed on the characters if I tried. 

Dylan’s character was Thomas, right? 

I love the idea that they all had their assigned roles, right? And some boys just got naturally selected, on a rotation, to be the cum dumps for the week. Laid out naked and sweating in an open clearing, anyone could come and fuck them any time throughout the day, their holes always loose and wet with other loads so it didn’t take long. 

It honestly improved morale. So little fighting, the guys all amiable and contented with their placement now. Maybe even they stop sending runners, they have all that they need, right here. Eventually they’d totally just become some nudist, poly colony– everyone naked all the time, taking anyone they wanted aside and fucking them for the others to watch, all of them sweaty and unwashed and covered in cum, no longer noticing the ripe because it’s just the way it goes. 

Any new boys sent up take a little while to condition, but they learn quickly. They don’t want to be the only one left out, and they’re not allowed to enjoy the group’s efforts unless they give themselves to the system. It’s a ceremony to initiate them when they finally give in, put naked on a dais for every boy to have their turn. He must milk every cock at least once, bathe in their cum and even their piss if they want it. He’s christened in it. 

Could be fun. ;) 

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He was sure it was pity. It had to be, nothing else made sense. A cute, calm Catholic boy with cornflower blue eyes, sitting on the curb with him, bringing an extra peanut butter and banana slice sandwich, wrapped in tinfoil. 

They never said much, just mowed through the soft white bread and sticky fillings. Sometimes there was honey too. Dean knew he should begrudge the Johns that walked on by, spooked by the kid with a cross hanging around the red light district, but. He knew he should feel bad about not saving part of these stolen meals for Sammy, he was a growing kid, could use the extra fuel, but. 

This little indulgence? Easily the one that felt most sordid day in, day out. All the filthy things strangers did to him and Dean only ever felt himself blushing when he kissed this boy’s fingers, murmured thanks he could only say with shut eyes. 

Castiel smiled at him in a way that wasn’t expecting anything, said his name like it still held weight, rubbed a thumb across his bottom lip with tenderness, not control. They didn’t fuck. At least not yet. One time kissed and bit and sucked at each others’ tongues in the rain, outside a dollar store. 

Dean thinks of it a lot, with other men inside him, goes back to that sidewalk corner where the train rattles on the overpass and the open sign radiates neon green and Cas smells like creamed butter and sugar. 

One day he’ll get to do it again. One day they’ll eat meals at a table and he won’t have to hide it from Sammy. One day he’ll only fuck for the fun of it and only with one boy, eyes so cornflower blue. 

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They knew they shouldn’t.

But rain was pattering against the windows and the city lit the room so lovely. Blues and yellows, the occasional flash of red, it cast Derek’s vulnerability in such stark relief. The shadows of the droplets running down the window panes multiplied the speckling on Stiles’ skin. Neither of them shivered because of the cold.

And it wasn’t like they hadn’t seen each other naked, wasn’t like they hadn’t been here before. But it had been a while, and they both belonged in someone else’s bed. Derek’s eyes couldn’t help trailing to the constellation of moles on Stiles’ hip he used to love to kiss, almost covered up by dark, curly hair he used to adore nosing aside. Stiles’ fingers reached out to trace a scar, the one Derek was always shy about, but died to have caressed.

It was like returning to your hometown. Some of the sights were different, but the paths remained the same, the streets were still yours. Derek made these pained, breathy sounds, beautiful eyes always wet and close to tears. Stiles ached and no matter how he stretched, the tension wouldn’t release.

The shuffle of the sheets was the loudest in the room, the slide of their skin, the rasp where their body hair met. They kissed and kissed and kissed. No position was considered where they couldn’t press their cheeks together, rub their noses, breathe each other in.

Derek’s nails dug in and Stiles’ heels pushed bruises. When the tides rose and they felt like overflowing, they wrapped each other up in their arms, squeezed like they’d fall apart if they ever let go. It was a grapple— muscles straining, skin sweating, teeth gritting as they grunted and cried out.

They couldn’t ever let go.

No matter the space, the time, the people between them. There was always this. They would always be this. I love you. I love you. I love you.

Stay.

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“How are you not freaking out right now?” Stiles can’t believe what he’s seeing. He doesn’t want to see what he’s seeing. Has he always been that pale? He thought that mole at the base of his dick was cuter. His nipples are sooo puffy! 

He– Derek– Derek in his body is just laid out across their bed, calmly lounging as he raises an eyebrow back, naked and seemingly okay with how the legs he’s rubbing together aren’t his. “I guess I would be if it were someone else, but I know your body just as well as mine, so.” He shrugs, makes that serene, accepting face that he always does that makes Stiles feel like an idiot, but it’s so much less elegant without Derek’s usual pretty face making the expression. And it’s so weird to see his own face making expressions he never has before. 

“That’s like… really sweet. What the fuck? How did you make that so sweet?” Stiles can’t get over how strong he feels, how his dick keeps slapping against his thighs and he has to actually focus on not crushing his balls between them because jesus Derek’s got some real breeders down there. He’s used to his own dick barely putting a bulge in his briefs. He feels like he could kill a man with this thing. 

Derek just shrugs at him again, raises an eyebrow. “Are you gonna get back in bed, or what? It’s Sunday and for once we don’t have brunch with Jackson or Scott waiting for us to get him out of the drunk tank or Lydia planning the next regional pack mixer. I bought new lube and I can tell you prepped your ass and I’ve not even thought about jerking off all week so I can fuck you all. day. long. So are you gonna waste all that, or are you gonna get over here and hang me on my knot so I can finally see what it feels like to come hands free like you do?” 

And boy, Stiles should not be so turned on seeing his own ass spread and hair brushed away from his pink, pink hole, but fuck if Derek doesn’t make him look sexy as hell all spread out and begging for it like that. He’s got this expectant look and it’s making these soft-ball sized motherfuckers throb, and shit, holy shit does it feel amazing to run his finger under his– Derek’s foreskin. He should get his tongue in there more often. 

Whatever worry there was melts away. He’s sure a cure can be found just as easy on Monday. Right now his dick is hard and huge and Derek’s got these lips that were made for cocksucking and the naughtiest, little smirk painting them. “Oh, you’re gonna regret this. You’re always so careful with me, I’m gonna show you just how much you don’t need to be.” He flexes Derek’s muscles and Derek rolls his eyes, but his little cock is leaking something fierce and Stiles can’t wait to show his boyfriend just how hard he likes being fucked and just how deep he thinks that knot can really get. 

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It’s not much of a surprise to come home to, not really. Stiles knew it was an eventuality, he just had to brew the right environment. A long weekend for all three of them, a rule that no clothes and no showers would be had for those days, the excuse that he had to run out for food, just for a moment.

And there it was, the opportunity for Derek and his dad to be horny enough, needy enough, open enough to finally fuck, just the two of them. He watched and stroked his small cock idly as they rambunctiously growled and boyishly giggled, psuedo wrestling as their leaking cocks mashed and their breaths came quick and short. They snuffled at each others’ pits and asses, sucked on each others’ tongues, groped and smacked and scratched.

Derek pissed in his dad’s hair, Gael came in his son’s ass. Stiles tipped over the edge when Derek bent over and Gael spread his fat, hairy cheeks so his young boy could grunt, bare down, and fart that thick, musky loud right back out onto his face for them to share.

It was just the start.

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Parrish would be lying if he said part of becoming a deputy wasn’t for this. The uniforms, the locker rooms. He didn’t mind being the new recruit that had to “survive” his hazing because he loved being left alone at night with his assignments. It gave him the chance to break into lockers and spend some private time with the sheriff’s socks, Derek’s boots, his own cock.

The leavings were rank and in the boy’s club of the sheriff’s office, no one seemed to care. Items were rarely taken home and washed, too much of a hassle, to Jordan’s joy. He could suck the sweat out of every golden toed dress sock, get high off the worn-in soles of boots, fuck his cock inside and spray his spunk over everything without anyone seeming to notice or care, his own musk just adding further to the funk.

He just dreamed of the day he could rub the actual tacky, tangy arches of feet over his face and suck on the hairy knobs of toes to go along with it. Have them watch as he leaked like a faucet at the warm, wet, ripe of them.

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Peter had always thought it was a bit of a curse, being born when he was. Too young for the adults in his family, too old for the kids. He always felt awkward. For a time, that is. But his fortunes turned when he came home from college, found all those kids were teens now, teens that needed a little helping hand.

Fertile, fecund, ferocious little things, he found a little fuck club of theirs, a locker room orgy to get out all that pent up lust. But they still hardly knew what to do with it, frotting in piles like snakes in mating season, frustrated with the itch that never quite got scratched.

He was all too happy to take the lead, eating up the awe on their faces, cashing in the instant devotion as he ate them out, sucked them off, lubed their holes and poked their prostates and edged them until they were out of their minds.

They followed him like ducklings after, and he somehow thought he’d actually never been so lucky.