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Knot Quite Like the Cliche

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The office area was fairly silent save for the sounds of fingers clacking on keyboards, pens scratching on paper, the occasional murmur of a question being asked or someone muttering to themselves. Stiles wanted to believe it was because everyone was being polite and allowing others to focus, given the layout of the office: a wide open space made of bright white walls, fluorescent lights, short gray carpet; desks in two rows pressed together so someone had an opposing partner of sorts, each cordoned off by a short gray partition that was easy to peek over; glass walls separating them from the hall and from their team leader’s office.

Said team leader was why everything was so quiet.

Before the Alpha had joined their company and been assigned to their team, the place had been more lively. Music would play lowly, each person’s turn on rotation, jokes thrown about every now and then. Now, any and all conversation was typically done before their boss showed up or after shifts ended or when they left for lunch. Now, any and all music was gone, just the symphony of keyboards and pens and the occasional phone ringing.

Not that the team leader had strictly banned any of this stuff. He’d never outright said it wasn’t allowed. Just… his unapproving glare was enough to scare anyone into never even thinking about their music app of choice.

Kinda made it weird to be so close to Christmas and not have the rest of the team whine at him over how he was playing Christmas With the Chipmunks for the eight hundredth time. He had a feeling that the boss Alpha would break something in his face trying to glare even harder.

At least he’d said nothing about Stiles decorating his little cubicle area. Tinsel lining the top, a mini-stocking, a one foot table top tree, a Santa bobblehead that, yeah, Stiles had the habit of poking and making bobble when his attention waned, but seriously, there was only so much staring at a screen typing tiny numbers that his eyes and his brain could handle.

Said tiny numbers that were starting to hurt his eyes again.

Right, break, he decided, closing said eyes and rubbing at them from under his glasses. The lens definitely did as advertised and helped filter the blue light coming from his screen, but all the lines and blocks and cells in all these spreadsheets would still blur together if he didn’t look away every now and then.


His hand dropped as his entire body jolted, as the Omega in him wanted to present at the gruff sound of an Alpha’s voice. At the team leader’s voice.

Shit, was he in trouble? He didn’t think he’d done anything wrong.

Leaning back in his chair, he peered down the line towards the glass walls of the team leader’s office, finding him behind his desk, papers in hand. He noticed Stiles’ staring and with his free hand, gestured him forward, usual deep frown on his face. Whatever he was looking at was clearly pissing him off.

Pushing his rolling chair back, Stiles smoothed down his tie--one covered in a design made to appear like a Christmas tree--and debated rolling his sleeves down. Or even just tightening his tie. He rarely ever knotted it all the way or did up the top button and he was sure it was unsightly to the always immaculately dressed leader but… just so not Stiles’... well, style.

Turning to the cubicle before him, he caught his best friend Scott giving him a wide eyed look that roughly translated to “good luck”. Lydia from next to Stiles stared with her lips pursed and twisted, wondering what it was he’d done this time. Malia from Scott’s left looked as though she was glad it wasn’t her. Kira next to her ducked down the second he caught her staring, but he didn’t miss her own wide eyed fear, the Omega in her probably just as nervous at the sound of a yelling Alpha.


Shoring himself up, Stiles reminded himself that he’d never actually been in trouble with the team leader before. Sure, Scott had been reprimanded about his scruffy appearance and told to get a more professional looking haircut, and Malia had been chewed out for wearing jeans, and Lydia had gotten a disapproving snort over her choice in wireless mouse, and Kira had… well, Kira had scurried away and hidden any time their leader approached and refused to go into his office alone, which had in turn earned her a one-on-one conference with said leader in order to try and dissuade those behaviors…

But Stiles, for all his eccentricities and hyperactivity and choice in cubicle decor, had never once met the man’s ire. Yes, he’d gotten a few glares, but who hadn’t? He was pretty sure their team leader had scowled at everyone who had ever set foot in the building, much less their office. He’d never received a full on lecture though. And his work was usually impeccable, meaning he’d never gotten into any trouble on that point with any team leader since he’d begun working there.

He knocked on the frame of the glass door with his knuckles and was gestured inside, then to close the door behind him.

And then Stiles regretted it.

Because their team leader was, by and far, the hottest Alpha Stiles had ever encountered, and Stiles had been around a lot of hotties. He was totally weak to them, and this one in particular had everything that ticked off Stiles’ list of a dream Alpha. Dark hair, neatly trimmed beard, bright colored eyes, square chin and sharp jaw and cut cheekbones, tall and broad and built, visible through the sharp suits he wore. His skin was tan and Stiles wondered if it was tan everywhere, wanted to find out firsthand. There was a touch of gray in his beard and barely at his temples, making him distinguished rather than old, and Stiles honestly had to resist the urge to present and call him “Daddy”.

Didn’t stop him from doing it in his apartment, imagination running while as he fucked himself with whatever dildo he happened to grab, but whatever. At least he had the decency not to do it in the office.

Although… god was he fucking tempted, given how the entire room reeked of Alpha and the team leader’s unique scent of warm black tea. Made Stiles feel gooey and melty inside and he had to focus on work and why he’d been summoned before he had to rush to the bathroom and shove toilet paper down the back of his boxers to soak up the slick that was sure to leak out of his already tingling hole.

“You wanted to see me, Mr Hale?”

Mr Hale put down the paper he’d been looking at, a spreadsheet print-out, and Stiles craned his neck where he was standing on the opposite side of the desk to try and peek at the name without looking as though he was peeking at the name. Was that why he had been called in? Had he somehow screwed up a number or a formula or something somewhere? It was bound to happen at some point.

But then Hale leaned back in his seat, rubbing at his temples, and heaving a sigh that didn’t fit the situation--unless he was having an extremely shit day and this was the final straw kinda deal. Wasn’t quite eleven though. Had to be one helluva shit day to be so bad so fast.

“My mother,” Hale began gruffly, dropping his hands in favor of opening a desk drawer. “I love her, I do, but fucking hell.”

Stiles said nothing. It wasn’t the first time he’d heard an f-bomb being dropped by his boss so it wasn’t really a surprise to hear a superior being crass. Also wasn’t like he could relate to mom-troubles, since his died when he was a kid.

“Shit, sorry,” Hale genuinely apologized with a grimace, pulling out a bottle of aspirin. “Forgot.”

Stiles shrugged. He had, at one point, told Hale about said death of his mom and the fact that it had been so long ago, he honestly wasn’t all that upset or offended anymore. Plus it wasn’t like Hale was rubbing it in his face that he had a mother or anything. He apparently just said it as a… a rant? A way to explain his headache?

“I love the woman, I do,” Hale repeated, dropping a couple aspirin onto his palm and reaching for his refillable water bottle. “But she’s a stereotypical overbearing Alpha parent and sometimes, I just can’t handle her.” He threw the pills back and chased them with a few large gulps and Stiles found himself fascinated by the way his adam’s apple bobbed underneath the whiskers. Stiles wondered if they’d scratch at him if he nuzzled the Alpha’s scent glands, then subsequently tore his eyes away before his imagination passed the point of no return.

Putting his bottle aside, Hale heaved another sigh, then leveled Stiles with a stare that the Omega internally cowered under, despite knowing it wasn’t really aimed at him. “What’re you doing tomorrow night?”

Stiles’ head reared back at the sudden change of topic, letting out an undignified “uhhhh” as he struggled to catch up. “Nothing?”

Probably true. He wasn’t entirely sure right enough, but given how his social life consisted of happy hour with his co-workers and the occasional hook-up with an Alpha who seemed least likely to be a serial killer from whatever random app he’d chosen to open… yeah, chances were he had no plans on a Saturday night.

“Good, I need a favor.”

The gruff tone brokered no arguments.

The change in topic once again had Stiles reeling.

“Uh. Okay?”

Hale rubbed at his forehead as he leaned forward, placing his elbow on his desk and closing his eyes as he sighed. “I pulled a ridiculously cliched move and I feel fucking stupid for it, but it feels like my only option, so fuck it, right?”

Stiles wasn’t sure if that was a question he actually needed to answer or not. He stayed silent though, thinking if it was, his boss would let him know.

Yet another sigh as Hale dropped his hand onto his desk and fixed Stiles with a serious… yet pleading expression. Okay, that was weird. Hale’s expressions tended to be Resting Grumpy Cat, Annoyed Frown, Pissed Scowl, Unamused Glare, or Exasperated Pinched Brow. He never once pleaded with anyone. Probably because he didn’t need to. The aforementioned expressions meant that no one ever had the balls to go against him, not to mention the fact that it was difficult to go against an Alpha in the first place.

“I need you to pretend to be dating me at my mother’s Christmas party so she and all my relatives can get off my back about not being Mated yet.”

Stiles stared.

And stared.

And stared.


Hale shuffled in his seat.

“That is a cliche, boss.”

Then glared. “I’m aware,” he grit out. “But like I said, I love her, but she makes me crazy. It’s been years of this, practically since I graduated college, and my older sister being pregnant with her third isn’t helping. And usually I can use my younger sister as a buffer, but apparently she’s spending the holidays with her new partner’s family, which is making my mother double down on me.”

“So you want me to be a buffer.”

Another sigh, this one seeming to deflate Hale more than anything, his head hanging off sagging shoulders. “Yes. Please.”

Stiles’ heart pounding in his chest and he had the feeling his scent was pumping out all kinds of excited signals. Hell, honestly, it would’ve been a miracle if his office crush--if he could even call it that--wasn’t already totally obvious to his boss already and the fact that said boss whom he had said crush on was asking him to be some sort of fake boyfriend…

Shit, oh god, where the hell did all the air go?

Hale looked up at him, that same pleading look, and if he had any clue what effect he was having on Stiles, he wasn’t showing it. “Please? There’s no one else I can trust with this.”

Aw, hell.

He nodded… Stiles was nodding and he had no idea why but the Omega part of him was preening and screaming and… yeah, this was such a damn cliche but… maybe his luck would continue and turn into something else, something more, that the rest of the cliche would come to fruition and he’d end up in an actual relationship with his boss.

His face grew bright red as his skin tingled all over, warm and fuzzy and gooey and… and he was pretty sure Hale’s scent was getting stronger, too, sharper and spicier and… yeah, Stiles needed to hit the john fast.

“Email me the details, I’ll be glad to go, absolutely, no problem, sounds great,” he rushed out without breathing, before turning around sharply and racing out the office, out to the hallway, ignoring any and all attempts at calling his name.


“You’re a fucking idiot,” Lydia stated with no tact as she stabbed her lettuce covered fork in his direction.

By the time Stiles had cleaned himself up in the bathroom--meaning repeatedly having to wipe the slick dribbling from his ass just from his boss’ scent, washed his face to cool his cheeks down, then dried his soaked shirt where he’d splashed his chest more than said face--it was lunch and he was thankful as hell for the chance to escape. Hale rarely ate in the cafeteria and if he did, it was usually with other team leaders as they out-bragged each other or whatever it was that team leaders discussed. It was too much Alpha for Stiles to handle in all reality.

So Stiles had managed to slink away and grab a burger and fries offered at the business building’s food court, joining his friends and co-workers with their own meals both brought from home and bought there.

Lydia, as always, had packed her own salad that she mixed together with the perfect amount of pre-measured dressing, a bottle of water she squirted some zero sugar flavoring into, and a low cal cookie for dessert. Malia was practically tearing into her own burger like a feral animal. Kira had her own perfectly put together bento box, rice perfectly balanced on her chopsticks. Scott had purchased a couple hot dogs and had managed to squirt ketchup on his shirt that his wife would most likely sigh at in fond exasperation.

It was a daily occurrence really.

Stiles stared at Lydia, positioned diagonally from him, wanting to argue but… yeah, he couldn’t. Not because she was an Alpha herself and the Omega part of him didn’t want to, but because… yeah, she had a point. He was absolutely a fucking idiot and it wasn’t the first time she’d told him just that.

“You’re clearly not thinking with the right body part otherwise you wouldn’t put yourself in harm’s way in such a blatant idiotic fashion.”

Now Stiles was waving his arms and shaking his head in an exaggerated expression of disbelief, almost sending a fry flying. “What the hell?”

Lydia gave him a dubious look as she chewed, unable to believe he couldn’t believe it or was acting so naively.

“He’s not that bad.”

“He’s terrifying,” Scott argued, shuddering as he patted down a new stain on his pants.

Stiles snorted. “No, he’s not.”

“Yes, he is,” Kira argued, wide eyed as always.

“He looks like he wants to eat you alive,” Malia added on before tearing into her burger again, this time as though it was a demonstration.

Lydia sipped at her water, pinky up. “Agreed, but not in the way you’re quite implying.”

Stiles’ dirty imagination immediately caught on to insinuation then ran away with it, picturing himself bent over Hale’s desk as he left beard burn between his cheeks, tongue snaking in and--

“That!” Lydia interjected, stabbing her fork in his direction again. “That is exactly why you should stay away. Because there’s a very huge chance of that happening and you’ll wind up completely heartbroken over it.”

Stiles rolled his eyes, picking at his fries. He was attracted to Hale, he knew that, couldn’t argue it when it was so obvious in his scent. But anything deeper… No, no way, no how. It was nothing more than an office fantasy that fueled some lonely nights and aching Heats, that was it.

“That’s not gonna--”

“It will,” Lydia interrupted, poking at her lettuce and chicken bits. “It always does. You fall for some pretty face, get in way too deep, and end up hurt and heartbroken until you find a new pretty face to swoon over and lust over and fall in too deep there, too, et cetra et cetra, the wheel rolls on.” She rolled her own eyes as she put the next forkful in her mouth, leveling him with an unamused glare as she chewed.

And damn if she didn’t have a point.

“It’s not gonna happen this time,” he argued, getting groans and eye rolls and “yeah right”s from around him. “It’s not! I’m not gonna--”

“Stiles,” Scott interrupted softly, full on puppy dog eyes aimed across the table at him, face pulled into a lopsided expression of sympathy and shit if Stiles wasn’t weak to that look. “I love you, bro, but. Lydia’s right. This is a terrible idea. He’s scary, you’re gonna get hurt, if not by him, then by his family.”

The statement made Stiles frown as he tried to see the connection, as he tried to remember anything about his boss’ family. Both parents, older sister, younger sister, apparently he was an uncle of some sort…

Nope, nothing.

Lydia huffed at him. “He’s a Hale. As in the most powerful family in northern California. As in nothing but Alphas dating back generations.”


Oh shit.

His eyes went wide and Lydia gestured at him.

“There it is,” she remarked, shaking her head. “Now do you see why all of this is a terrible idea?”

He swallowed hard, grabbing his soda and downing it faster than he should have given the caffeinated bubbles. Yeah, definitely a terrible idea, romantic fantasy cliches aside. It wasn’t that the Hales--billionaire politician Alpha Hales--were against Omegas or Omega rights or whatever--because they were very much pro-Omegas and the ERA and all that--just… the intimidation factor.

No wonder everyone went scurrying from their boss.

Although, his face really didn’t help in that matter.

Still, now that Stiles was more aware of what he was up against, he was most definitely second-guessing his agreement and the fact that he’d so eagerly jumped into it without even really thinking it over…

Damn. He really hated when Lydia had a point.


Stiles left first, most of his lunch gone uneaten, and practically raced back to the office. The rest of his co-workers kept eating, in no hurry to get back to tiny numbers and eye blurring cells, using up each and every second of their appointed lunch hour.

Unsurprisingly, Stiles found Mr Hale still in his own office, eyes focused on his laptop as he typed away. On his desk was a still open sandwich wrapper with a couple shreds of lettuce and some spilled sauce, an open packet of chips, a new bottle of water that hadn’t been there before. He knocked on the door, Mr Hale grunting a “c’min” without moving his eyes--at least until Stiles followed orders and… well, went in.

Mr Hale’s fingers froze as his nostrils flared with scenting the air, quickly finishing whatever sentence he was typing before he turned to give Stiles his full attention. He reached for something by the remnants of his lunch trash, holding it up in Stiles’ direction before tossing it over.

“Here. I know you like white chocolate.”

Stiles looked at what he’d just caught and sure enough, it was another chocolate cookie with white chocolate chunks. The Omega part of him was preening, practically purring, because it was, in fact, his favorite type of cookie and this was an Alpha providing for him.

He had to remind himself that wasn’t the case, that it was a simple mistake made when Mr Hale had ordered his lunch and Stiles just happened to love this type. It had happened before. Chances were it would happen again.

“You really should talk to that sub shop about them continuously giving you the wrong kind of cookie,” he suggested, gesturing with said cookie. Mr Hale just grunted. “But thank you. Again.”

Another grunt, accompanied by a shrug before he leaned back in his seat. “So what can I help you with?”

Stiles stared at the cookie in hand, trying to get his mind out of the caveman state it was in as the Omega kept repeating “Alpha has given Omega a cookie” in a way that felt much too Dobby-like for his comfort. “Uh,” he delayed, before snapping out of it. Right. He, uh… shit, he needed to do this. “I just. Wanted to talk to you. About your whole. Fake date thing.”

Mr Hale raised an eyebrow, a very attractive if bushy eyebrow and why was it so hot that he had such expert control over them like that? God, Stiles’ crush was more out of control than originally believed. “I thought we agreed I would email you the details?”

“Right! About that.” He stalled out again, peeked behind himself at the glass walls and the thankfully still empty desks. “I just,” he paused, turned back to his boss, fiddled with the paper wrapper of his cookie. “It occured to me that it wouldn’t work.”

The eyebrow went up again, along with the corner of Mr Hale’s lips quirking in a wry smile. “And why is that?”

Shit, why was it? He couldn’t flat out say that the rest of the cliche would play out and Stiles would fall in love and then get his heart broken in the way his too-smart-for-her-own-good co-worker had pointed out, not without making an even bigger ass of himself than he already was. “Because of. Um.” He floundered, glanced around, inhaled sharply and picked up on his boss’ black tea scent that had his mind further melting…


“Our scents!” Stiles blurted out a little too loud, entirely body jolting up as it occurred to him. He cleared his throat as he settled into a more casual stance, trying not to act excited over the fact that he’d just found an out and a way to protect himself. “We don’t smell like each other. It’s gonna be a dead giveaway. And it’s not like a quick little scenting before the party would help, not if we want it to be believable. You’d be better off just telling your folks that your partner couldn’t make it.”

“Or,” Mr Hale began thoughtfully, thumb tapping against the arm of his chair. “We could have sex.”

Stiles gaped.

His eyes went wide.

His heart froze in his chest.

And his body got way too loose way too fast as his hole practically mirrored his hanging open mouth, ready to take him inside.



Mr Hale gestured flippantly with his hand. “I know I’m opening myself up to all kinds of sexual harassment claims and you’d be right to go straight to HR and inform them that I’d propositioned you, but in all honesty, I really am that desperate.”

Oh. Stiles hadn’t even thought of the sexual harassment aspect. He was too hung up on the idea of Mr Hale actually suggesting they have sex in the first place. The entire thing had gone from the plot of a romcom to the plot of a porno.

“There’s no way I’d get away with ‘oh sorry, I invited my Omega but he couldn’t make it’. They’d see right through that lie, demand pictures and stories that I’d never keep straight. I’ve seen how loquacious you can be and I’m sure you’d have no trouble keeping up with nosy and interfering relatives.”

Okay, yeah, true. Stiles had been known to talk his way out of some shit in his life. Hell, it was partially how he got this job.

But still…


“The way I see it, the best course of action would be for me to knot you, fill you with my come so you reek of me, then there’d be no questions asked.”

Jesus Christ, Stiles had never gotten so hard and wet so fast in his entire fucking life.

Straight up porno.

“If that’s alright with you?”

Stiles nodded, barely aware of it, but aware enough to know he was doing it pretty rapidly. “Yeah, okay.”

“So I’ll come over to your place, say, around three? That should give us plenty time to get you covered in my scent then dressed to head over.”

More absent nodding, Stiles’ imagination on overdrive as he imagined Mr Hale in his apartment, on his bed, inside of him. Fuck, he was gaping, his underwear was wet and he was pretty sure if Mr Hale breathed a certain way he’d come in his pants.

“Alright. I’ll see you then.”

Stiles just nodded more, unable to speak, but definitely able to leave the office then the outer office as his co-workers began to trickle in, once again racing to the bathroom. Only this time, he wound up locking himself in one of the stalls in order to get himself off. He wasn’t gonna be able to simply splash water on his face to cool himself down and get over it.

His boss had propositioned him for sex.

It really was the season of miracles.


Stiles barely slept that night.

He skipped out on happy hour, knowing it would be a bad idea to add alcohol to his already muddled brain. It was a miracle he’d gotten through the rest of work without any major fuck-ups or having to stay behind to catch up or correct anything. He wasn’t gonna chance anything else by getting drunk and blurting the whole thing to his judgmental friends.

So he raced home and got rid of his nervous energy by cleaning the shit out of his apartment, catching up on laundry he would ordinarily put off for another week, even ironing and putting it all away properly rather than leaving stacks of undies and socks on top of his bureau. Then he laid awake… thinking… far too much.

When he’d finally passed out around three or so, his night had been plagued by wet dreams over his boss fucking him on practically every surface of his apartment.

The next morning, he’d immediately thrown his soiled sheets in the wash, tempted to spray his mattress down with scent neutralizer before deciding it would help their cover if it transferred over onto Mr Hale.

Around noon, he received a text from his boss asking if he had a plug. Which…

Stiles had to sit down and stare for a long while, ruining yet another pair of underwear with his slick. Fuck, he hadn’t leaked this much since puberty and he genuinely wondered how the hell he was gonna be able to go back to work on Monday.

Maybe he should start looking for a new job, ask HR for a transfer to a different team. It would suck, because his teammates were all long-term friends and they got along well but having to face a boss who he slept with…

“Awkward” didn’t even begin to cover it.

He didn’t get his shit together until Mr Hale sent him a couple question marks and Stiles forced himself to get his ass in gear, responding with a simple “yes”.

Before his mind blew once more.

Then he forced himself back into gear, taking a very, very thorough shower.

During which… yeah, okay, his imagination kicked back in and he pictured Mr Hale in there with him, cleaning out his hole. His fingers were thicker than Stiles’, an observation made from obsessive staring, and they’d fill him so well, stretch him so wide. Before he knew it, Stiles was spreading himself, opening himself up, panting in the small confines of his shower. Part of him almost wished he’d taken a dildo into the shower with him, get himself ready for the big show so to speak, but he settled for massaging at his prostate as best he could before he was shooting against the tile wall and crying out his boss’ name.


He was definitely in way too deep.

He cleaned himself off once more, cleaned his wall off, too, then got out and dried off. He contemplated deodorant before deciding his scent would be stronger if he didn’t, then headed to his bedroom to decide what to wear.

His phone stared at him where he’d left it on the bed.

His boss’ text came back to mind, the inquiry over a plug, and before Stiles knew it, he was opening the toy drawer in his nightstand and pulling it out. Nothing fancy, plain black hard silicone that he tended to use during his Heats, keeping himself open and ready for the next round. And maybe he might’ve worn it a few times during his vacations, enjoying the feeling of being full without being overly stuffed as he padded around his apartment in nothing but his boxers. Whenever the urge got to him, he’d simply strip off his undies and get himself off with it and a hand around his cock.

He warmed the plug with his hands as he crawled onto the bed, easily lowering his upper half as he kept his ass raised, perfect presenting position. He held himself open with one hand as the other slipped his plug inside, eliciting a deep groan from him. It sat perfectly against his prostate at this angle and he was tempted to get himself off once again before deciding against it. His boss would be there in a few hours. He needed to save his strength and stamina.

His wardrobe was another issue to tackle, wanting to look fuckable but comfortable and not like he was trying too hard. This was more or less a sure thing so he didn’t have to go out of his way to make it happen. Still, he wanted to be found as attractive rather than just convenient, letting his hope run away with his imagination where he gave into the delusion that he could somehow convince Mr Hale to be with him for more than one night or as a pretend date to his family’s Christmas party.

Which… considering what they were about to get up to made him feel… well, kind of skeezy.


He threw on a pair of well worn jeans and a red v-neck tee that was comfortable, stylish, and also made him look pretty damn good, then forced himself to eat something for lunch. Wasn’t much, just a quick sandwich that had him paranoidly scrubbing his teeth and rinsing his mouth with mouthwash twice to get rid of any lingering taste of peanut butter.

Time ticked by slowly and quickly all at once. As the seconds passed towards the appointed hour, Stiles’ felt his anxiety kick in and ratchet up more and more. His stomach tumbled. His chest grew tight. His skin buzzed. His heart hammered. His lungs shuddered. Every now and then, his hole would rhythmically clench around the plug still inside of him and his cock remained half-hard the entire time, until…

The buzz at his door came ten minutes before three and Stiles jumped out of his seat. He should’ve known his boss would be early. Mr Hale was a stickler for punctuality, showing up early at work, too.

He cut off the Hallmark Channel Christmas movie he'd been watching and raced over to his door where the intercom was located, only to pause. He didn’t wanna come across as too eager. Mr Hale already knew he was a sure thing and answering the door like this was as desperate as the time he’d spent picking out an outfit. He needed to just… chill.

Stiles took a couple deep breaths to collect himself, rolled his shoulders, then his head, fussed over his hair for some reason. Then he finally hit the button to speak.

“Yeah?” Oh fuck him, his voice had totally cracked. He hoped like hell the static of the intercom muffled it.

It’s Derek. Hale.

Huh. Stiles didn’t think it was possible for his Alpha boss to ever sound nervous or make a mistake but… yeah, he sounded a little nervous there.

Or maybe it was wishful thinking making him hear shit that wasn’t there, that he was just hoping he wasn’t the only one feeling anxious over this.

Stiles cleared his throat as he rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah, come on up. Third floor, apartment D.” He cringed at the lame response as he depressed the button to unlock the front door. Fuck. Honestly, he wouldn’t blame his boss if he changed his mind once he got into the apartment and fully realized what a giant fucking loser he was. He’d be well within his right to absolutely back out and want nothing to do with Stiles, to cancel his plan and just put up with a nagging mother.

Or maybe it just spoke to how completely and utterly desperate Mr Hale was that he was willing to do this with Stiles of all people.

A knock sounded on his door and Stiles damn near jumped out of his skin. His heart thundered in his chest and his skin buzzed wildly as he spent another moment or two fussing over his hair again.

Not that it mattered. Hopefully it would be too long before it got messed up and he’d have to fix it all over again.

Or maybe Mr Hale would want him to keep it messed up as some sorta show, prove his Alpha-ness or something by how debauched his Omega looked and further add to the false image that they were a couple.

His body warmed at the thought of Mr Hale smirking and showing Stiles off with pride. Maybe he’d be covered with hickeys, bite marks, scent saturating him. He clenched around the plug, imagining keeping it in, keeping his Alpha’s seed in him, walking around marked in practically every possible way.

Probably dangerous thinking, considering it would all be fake and Mr Hale didn’t seem the type to behave in such a way but…

But the thoughts were there and he could feel himself go gooey at them as he walked with jellied legs to open the door.

And there he was, beautiful and built and smelling so fucking good. He was dressed in a pair of slacks and a casual v-neck sweater, biceps hugged by the knit material, and Stiles had never been so jealous of fabric before in his entire life.

Mr Hale’s eyes drifted down, taking in Stiles, the corner of his lips curling up ever so slightly to the point where Stiles wasn’t sure he wasn’t imagining it. When his bright eyes returned to the Omega’s face, he frowned, confusion tilting his head.

“No glasses?”

Stiles automatically reached up to touch the bridge of his nose. “Ah, no. I only wear those at work to filter out the blue light. I don’t really need ‘em.”

Mr Hale nodded slowly and this time, his lips really did curl on one side for sure. “So you’re the type to look good with or without them?”

Holy shit, the man was bad for Stiles’ heart, the organ skipping a beat then freezing completely in his chest. He also was possibly not breathing, Stiles wasn’t sure about that either. Just that… yeah, fuck, shit, Mr Hale had him feeling weak and wanting to pass out.


He’d just implied Stiles looks good.

A self-deprecating laugh came out of him automatically and he gestured at his boss. “You clearly haven’t looked in a mirror lately if you think I’m the one who--”

“I look in the mirror every day,” Mr Hale interrupted, voice strangely deep and warm and Stiles’ insides melted further. “That’s how I know that you’re the attractive one.”

Holy shit.

He just…

There was no way.

Stiles knew objectively he wasn’t ugly, but he wasn’t that good looking to where he could compare or compete with his boss. The eye roll was done automatically, too, along with a snort, and he rubbed at the back of his neck again.

“I already agreed to sleep with you, didn’t I? You don’t need all the come-ons or cheesy lines.”

Mr Hale frowned. “Stiles, it’s not a cheesy line or a come-on. I--” He paused, looked around, realized where he was. “Can I come in first?”

Shit. Right. Manners.

“Oh! Sorry!” He jolted again and moved aside with a sweep of his arm. Mr Hale gave him a nod of gratitude before entering the apartment, giving it a cursory glance before turning back to Stiles.

Who was procrastinating by closing his door over and automatically locking it via habit.

Maybe he should leave it unlocked, just in case. He didn’t think he’d need to suddenly run from his boss. And he had an Alpha now in the apartment to protect him just in case someone broke in and--


His name was said so softly that it made his chest ache and he swallowed hard before turning around. Mr Hale was standing there, facing him, a near pleading look on his face that reminded Stiles of sad puppies on those cursed ASPCA ads that made him want to smash every Sarah McLachlan CD ever produced.

“Once more, at the risk of a sexual harassment lawsuit or losing my job or possibly having one of my best team members transfer out,” he paused for a small laugh and a weak smile and Stiles swallowed hard once more, his fingers tangling in front of him in nervousness. “I am incredibly attracted to you. Have been since day one. And I know this is the absolute worst way possible to confess to such a thing, but the thought of you going into this with me while thinking I was lying or spitting bullshit lines to get you in bed? It kills me.”

Holy. Shit.

Stiles just gaped. His heart and his lungs weren’t working again. His skin was buzzing all over. His Omega half was yelling and screaming and demanding he get his shit together and present. His body was loosening and opening up once more.

There was no fucking way though… that his boss… that Derek Hale...

“I probably could’ve been more obvious in my intentions and my desires to Court you, but again, I didn’t wanna risk losing you or getting into trouble with HR,” Mr Hale went on, lips twisting in a wry smile. “But I thought maybe paying attention, talking to you, getting those cookies you love so much, I could--”

“Wait,” Stiles interrupted. “The cookies?”

Mr Hale rolled his entire head along with his eyes. “Stiles, they don’t accidentally give you an uncommon flavor like that. I specifically ask for it each time because I know they’re your favorite.”


Shit, now things made sense. Not just the cookies, but why he’d asked Stiles to do… this. Not to mention the fact that Stiles didn’t think Mr Hale was all that scary or as bad as his co-workers all claimed and the fact that he so rarely got scolded despite having been a troublemaker his entire life.

Mr Hale liked him.

Mr Hale wanted him.

Mr Hale wanted to Court him.

Holy fuck it was better than anything Stiles could’ve ever imagined.

“If it’s not something you’re interested in and if you want this to just be a one-time thing, then I totally under--”

“Fuck no!” Stiles interrupted, face burning hot with a blush at the realization he’d just swore at his boss so vehemently. “With all due respect, I’ve wanted you since the second you showed up, too. Why do you think I take so many extra long bathroom breaks?”

Mr Hale’s face scrunched up. “I really didn’t wanna ask about any possible intestinal issues, for both our sakes.”

“My intestines are fine,” he assured. “It’s you with your--” He paused, hands flailing as he gestured at Mr Hale’s… everything. “No, the only issue I have is how fucking gorgeous you are and the way you and your scent send my damn slick glands into overdrive so I have to go get myself off and-or clean myself up.”

Mr Hale’s brows raised as his eyes went wide, before everything lowered into a hooded gaze. His eyes went dark, smile turning into a hungry smirk, and his hips rolled in a predatory manner as he moved closer. Stiles’ heart beat rabbit fast, shaky inhale bringing in that black tea scent with the added spice of Alphan arousal, and he felt himself grow wet with it.

“Really now?” Mr Hale rumbled, voice dark and husky and pure sex, as he stalked even closer.

Stiles felt very much like prey, backing away until he hit the door.

“Gotta be honest, I’m a little upset I didn’t get to see it or that you didn’t ask me for help. I mean, I understand why, but maybe next time I should join you, make sure all your needs are taken care of.” He paused mere inches away, his wide body blocking Stiles’ escape, and despite barely being an inch or two shorter, Stiles felt small, felt helpless…

Felt even more aroused.

God, he’d always felt like an awkward Omega, too tall and lanky, but now… now he felt perfect, his head tilting back and to the side to put his scent gland on display as he yielded to the Alpha before him.

“Please,” he breathed out, his hips rolling forward and brushing against Mr Hale’s. “Alpha.”

A rumbling growl of pleasure left his boss before Mr Hale bracketed him in with a forearm against the door on either side of Stiles’ head. He leaned in, pressed his nose to the crook of Stiles’ neck, to his scent gland, inhaling deeply. “Smell so good, little Omega,” he rumbled in approval. “Makes me wanna Claim you.”

“Do it,” Stiles breathed out without hesitation. “Claim me, make me yours.”

Mr Hale lifted his head and cupped Stiles’ chin with his thumb and forefinger, moving Stiles’ head so they were meeting eye to eye. “I wanna make things clear before anything else happens,” he stated, the rasp still in his voice even if his tone was more serious and business-like. “If we do this, if I mount and fuck you, it’s not gonna be a one-time thing. I’m serious in my intentions to Court you. I wanna take you to meet my family as my actual Omega, understood?”

Stiles nodded vehemently, excitedly. “I want that, too, Mr Hale.”

A smile played on his lips before he grew serious once more. “Outside the office, I’m ‘Derek’. In the bedroom, I’m ‘Alpha’, understood?”

The orders had Stiles slumping against the door, passageway filling with his slick. “Yes, Alpha.”

“Mmm. Good boy.” A hand reached over to card through his hair. “I’m clean and I really don’t wanna fool with condoms, not this time and not with you. I wanna knot you and pump you full of my come as many times as possible between now and the time we have to leave. And, to be perfectly frank, I wanna plug you up and make you keep it inside as we go to the party.”

Stiles groaned, honest to god groaned, head falling back as his knees got weak. “Fuck,” he breathed out. “That’s why you asked if I had a plug?”

One corner of Derek’s lips curled up in a salacious grin. “That’s right.” The grin disappeared. “But it’s okay if you don’t want that. I’ll do whatever you--”

“I want it,” Stiles burst out, hands grabbing onto Derek’s sweater. “I wanna be so full of you my stomach distends and I look pregnant. Was even thinking about keeping my plug in and keeping your come when we went to the party, too.”

Derek’s brow furrowed slightly. “‘Keeping my plug in’? Are you--?” He trailed off, hands sliding down, and Stiles pushed his hips forward as large hands grabbed his ass.

His teeth sank into his bottom lip as he pressed into Derek’s grasp and he nodded. “Thought you wanted me open and ready for you.”

A growl left Derek as his scent spiked and his hips pressed forward as his hands pulled Stiles’ groin against his, making him feel the hard bulge trapped within his slacks. “I’m a little disappointed I won’t get the pleasure of stretching you out and making you cry on my fingers, but there’s always next time. Right now, I’m also glad you did it. Not sure how long I can hold out.”

Stiles smirked, feeling powerful that he had this Alpha so desperate and so eager. Reaching back, he took one of Derek’s hands in his own and led him to the bedroom.

He’d left his recently washed comforter folded up at the bottom of the bed, only the flat sheet spread across and suddenly he was strangely glad for it. And he was also focusing on the wrong thing as nerves got the best of him, the bravado he’d felt by his front door dissipating as he walked through his small apartment to his room.

But luckily Derek felt none of it, crowding behind him and putting his hands on Stiles’ hips as his lips moved to the side of Stiles’ neck. He honed in on his scent gland, biting at it before sealing his lips around it and sucking. Stiles gasped and groaned, falling back against the broad body of his boss, feeling Derek’s hard length press insistently between his cheeks and pushing against the plug. Stiles let out a moan and Derek began rutting against him more, jostling the plug and making Stiles’ breathing grow shaky.

“Please,” he gasped out as his skin was finally released, another bite pressed against the sensitive flesh.

“Strip and present for me, pretty boy. Wanna see you plugged up.”

Stiles shuddered at the orders but eagerly complied, keeping his back to Derek as he stepped away then pulled his shirt over his head, then his pants down off his legs. He heard Derek breathe out a swear behind him when his bare ass was revealed and he let the praise carry him over to the bed where he exaggeratedly climbed on top, back arched and long legs displayed. He swayed his hips as he crawled to the middle of the bed, still not looking at the Alpha, before he lowered his head and chest onto the mattress and lifted his ass even more. Then, he reached back and grabbed hold of his cheeks, pulling them apart to further display the plug nestled between them. His hole clenched around it before spreading wide, slick pooling inside his passageway with no escape, and he let his fingers trace around his damp rim.

Another swear, the shuffle of feet against the carpet, a belt being unbuckled. Stiles' hips moved automatically, his rim clenching around the plug as his passage sought out something to make him feel good, feel more full.

Fingers touched his own, incidental as they pressed against the base of the plug. He squirmed on the bed, arched his back as Derek tried to press it further inside, as he tried to angle it just so and--

Stiles gasped as his entire body jolted, sparks flying as the plug pushed against his prostate. "There," he breathed out, pleading.

Derek's scent grew stronger, darker, a musky scent that accompanied an Alpha's arousal, and Stiles jellied further under it. "Can I make you come with this?" Derek requested, voice holding a rasp that Stiles had never heard before.

He nodded vehemently, forehead rubbing against the sheet. "Please," he panted.

Gently, Derek brushed Stiles' hands aside and the Omega moved to grab the sheet by his head. A broad palm grabbed one of his ass cheeks, pulling it to expose his plug once again, as the other hand took hold of the base. Derek tugged at it, the bulb in turn tugging at Stiles' rim and making him whimper.

His rim stretched around the bulb until Derek managed to pull it out with a pop and a squelch that sounded as dirty as it felt. Stiles felt open and exposed, felt slick spurt out and trickle down his taint, to his balls, to the sheet below him. A rough thumb rubbed at his perineum, gathering it up and Stiles turned his head enough to find Derek bringing his thumb to his mouth.

He quickly turned back, face burning, growing hotter as he heard Derek groan in satisfaction.

"Tastes even better than I imagined," he rumbled and the Omega in Stiles preened and purred from the praise. "Next time, next time I'm gonna suck this hole dry."

Stiles shuddered as he subconsciously pushed his ass up in invitation. He had zero problems with the proposed plan.

"Next time, my greedy Omega," Derek rasped, amused, hand gripping his cheek again. "For now," he trailed off and Stiles felt something blunt… felt the plug at his gaping hole. "Don't touch your cock, understand? Only I get to make you come."

Stiles whined but nodded his head.

"Good boy," Derek praised, before pressing a kiss right at the top of the cleft of Stiles' ass, beard rasping against sensitive skin and making him shiver. Once he'd straightened back up, Derek pressed the plug back inside with perfect aim, nailing Stiles' prostate immediately.

The Omega jerked as he cried out, fingers straightening before fisting at the sheet. He heard a cocky laugh from behind as Derek began grinding the plug against the sensitive bundle, lighting up every nerve inside of Stiles.

Fuck, it was so much better than when he did it himself. Derek alternated between hard grinds and feather light touches, playing with him without any sort of rhythm or pattern, keeping Stiles on edge as the pleasure built and built. His cock was rock hard, throbbing and bobbing between his legs as his hips moved in pleasure--until Derek grabbed hold to keep him in place by wrapping an arm around Stiles' waist.

"Be a good boy and keep still. Let you Alpha take care of you."

"Oh fuck, please pleaseplease," Stiles begged as he heaved, body jerking around as much as it could within Derek's vice grip.

"I will, baby. Don't you worry." Lips pressed along his spine, beard scratching against already fraying nerves. And when Derek sucked a mark on his tailbone, Stiles came with a shout, cock jerking and throbbing without anything coming out, despite the pleasure coursing all over his body.

Holy shit.

His entire body went lax and Derek slipped the plug out then slowly lowered him to the bed, a twitching jellied mess only capable of panting and shivering.

Holy shit.

"You okay?" Derek's voice was as gentle as the fingers carding through Stiles' hair and the Omega braved turning his head to peer up at him. Derek's eyes were dark, pupils blown, face flushed. His own lips hung open as he breathed shakier than before, tension in his body from holding back or seeking his own release.

Stiles let his fingers slide across the sheet to where Derek's thigh was resting on the bed… only for Derek to catch it and tangle their fingers together.

"Stiles?" he prompted, eyebrow raised.

Fighting a frown at his plan being thwarted, Stiles swallowed hard and nodded. "Want more though," he replied, hips rolling against the mattress, raising his ass some once more.

Derek chuckled good naturedly, free hand smoothing over the round gloves of Stiles' backside. "Told you I'd take care of you, didn't I?" he smirked, fingertips dipping into Stiles' crevice and toying with his loose rim.

A pleased hum left Stiles and he arched his back to lift his ass more, to get more of those broad digits inside of him…

Except Derek was moving them away, getting off the bed, and Stiles' whine was met with another amused chuckle.

"Little hard to give us what we want if I'm still dressed," he pointed out with a rustle of fabric.

Shit. He had a point.

And was getting naked.

With a sudden burst of energy, Stiles flipped over onto his back, Derek's sweater halfway over his head… along with the tee he'd had on underneath… leaving him shirtless.


The suits had definitely accentuated his assets rather than making him bulkier than he truly was. The Alpha's biceps were large without being grotesquely so, chest broad and built, shoulders tapering down to a trim waist. What was a surprise was the eight pack of abs and the abundance of chest hair that Stiles wanted to run his fingers through. His passage throbbed and more slick trickled out as another wave of arousal washed over him.

There really wasn't anything about the man that wasn't attractive as fuck and Stiles was hit with the urge to find some form of flaw that didn't just make him endearing as hell in addition to being hot.

Like the bunny teeth he'd noticed on Derek's first day.

Derek smirked down at him, a dangerous edge to it that reminded Stiles of predators eyeing their prey, and his legs fell open on automatic, head falling back and arms spreading out to bare both his neck and belly. He was entirely bare and vulnerable, heart racing in his chest from excitement rather than nerves.

"Christ, you're beautiful," Derek declared, eyes hooded as they took in all of Stiles, tongue darting out to lick his lips when he focused on the Omega's crotch. "Shit, I need to be inside you."

Planting his feet on the bed, Stiles bent his knees and spread his legs further open, lifting his ass off the bed and using one hand to spread his hole further open. "Fuck me, Alpha."

A growl and Derek damn near tore his pants in his haste to shove them down. He practically threw himself on top of Stiles and claimed his mouth in a hungry kiss that felt more like a plundering than anything else. It was all Stiles could do to try and kiss back, whimpering as he tried to breathe through his nose. His legs automatically came up to frame wide hips and he had to free his arm in order to wrap both around Derek's broad torso and press his hands to his back.

Fuck, he was muscular here, too, Stiles feeling them relax and contract as Derek moved. His hips rolled, long hot length dragging along Stiles' smaller one, hand gripping the Omega's hip possessively. Stiles reached down to squeeze his hand for more pressure, wanting it to bruise, wanting to be able to feel the sting of pain later and remember.

Derek complied, digging fingers in and making Stiles gasp, making his hips rock.

"Der. Please," he panted out as the Alpha moved to suck dark mark over his scent gland.

A rumbling growl as one of his hips was released. Derek lifted up enough to readjust his angle, to move his cock so the head was against Stiles' still open and leaking hole. The Omega rocked his hips again and the hint was easily taken, rim stretching around the mushroom crown as Derek pushed inside.

"Oh fuuuuck," Stiles groaned as his head fell back. Derek stretched him so fucking bad, so fucking wide, more than he ever had been before. His walls shuddered around the heat of him, greedily trying to get more.

"Shit, baby. It's like you're tryna suck me inside," Derek commented with a wry laugh.

"I am," Stiles replied, breathless, purposely working himself around the Alpha's cock. "So big, so hot. I want it."

A huge smile formed on Derek's face, smug once again and he rolled his hips to push more inside. "Don't worry, baby. I'm gonna give you every last inch."

Stiles hummed in pleasure as Derek sat up, sat back on his heels and tugged Stiles' lower half onto his lap. At this angle, his cock dragged over his front walls, over his prostate, driving him in deeper than Stiles thought possible.

Several swears were dragged out the Omega and he looked down his body at a tell-tale bulge in his lower abdomen, one that moved as Derek began to retreat. He pressed his hand above his pubis and felt on the outside as Derek's length pushed in once more.

"Shit, that's hot," Derek moaned and Stiles looked to find the Alpha staring at his hand. Stiles moved it so he was pressing his skin flatter, framing where Derek glided in and out, where he was pushing out Stiles' lower abdomen. "You look so good taking me."

A small chuckle burst from Stiles. "Feel so good taking you."

Bracing his fists on either side of Stiles' head, Derek leaned down and reconnected their lips in a kiss that was missing the hunger of the previous yet still held all the passion. Stiles was better able to take an active part, lips moving and tongues brushing together. He shivered under the intensity, especially as Derek continued to roll his hips and drive his cock in and out.

Derek broke the kiss with a swear and Stiles opened his eyes to find his cheeks ruddy and his lips parted and his skin shining with sweat. "I wanted to last longer than this," he admitted with a deprecating laugh and…

Yeah, yep, oh shit, Derek had to tug to pull out, making Stiles keen as his knot stretched his rim. The Omega part of him grew desperate for it, clawing at Derek's arms.

"Give it to me," he demanded, fixing the Alpha with a fierce look. "You can last longer next time."

Derek smirked, scent spiking and eyes twinkling in amusement. "Demanding little Omega."

Stiles opened his mouth to argue but instead was manhandled in a way that had him groaning loudly. He was rolled further into his back with his legs on either of Derek's broad shoulders as he shifted into a more crouched position. The Alpha moved in smooth strokes, angling to reach deep and rub at Stiles' prostate.

Harsh breaths were pushed from Stiles with every thrust inside, his hands reaching out to claw at the sheet as best he could. Fuck, the way he was held, was positioned, he couldn't so anything but take it, helpless against the onslaught. Hips slapped against his ass as much as they could, every pull out joined by a rough tug at his rim and a wet squelch as his slick went flying. His hands ached to grab hold of his cock, his small Omega balls drawn up tight as his hard dick flopped about from the force of every thrust. But he'd been told not to, had been told to let the Alpha make him come.

"Oh fuck, Derek, I'm so close," he keened, knuckles white as they grabbed onto his linens. "Please, I'm so close."

He had no idea what he was begging for but he fucking needed it.

And the Alpha, the harshly panting, grunting, sweating, beautiful Alpha nodded. "Come for me, gorgeous. I'm right there with you."

Stiles whined, feeling blocked, like something was stopping him. Derek's knot was getting too big to pull out but he still tried, still ripped his cock free, and with it… Stiles' orgasm.

The Omega practically screamed, his hands slapping wildly at the bed, his toes curling until his calves hurt, his head rearing back, his eyes going wide. Come shot from his cock as he felt his passage grow even wetter, filthily squelching more as Derek shoved himself back inside with tremendous force. Stiles' walls shook around him, spasming like every other muscle in his body, and it took mere seconds before he felt the first jet of hot come stream inside.

Looking down his body, Stiles once more saw where Derek distended his stomach and he put his hand just above the head, where he imagined he was being filled. Shit, so hot, so fucking good. Stiles hoped like hell the plug was still nearby. He wanted to keep this inside him for a while, wanted to add to it.

Derek carefully lowered him onto the bed, still with Stiles in his lap as he sat on his heels again. His cock continued to throb as more pulses of come streamed out, and he reached out with a broad hand to swipe up some of Stiles' own spend from his torso… to wipe on his chest. His chest hair glistened with a mix of come and sweat and Stiles felt his own dick twitch where it lay softening on his torso.

He wanted a round two already.

And a round three.

Twelve rounds of Christmas sounded nice.

Was too damn bad they had to go out in a few hours.

"Do we really have to go to your family's party?" he asked, a slight whine in his voice. "Think maybe we could make it up to your mom over breakfast?" He let his hands traveled down his body, one tweaking a nipple, the other swirling in come that Derek had missed.

The Alpha's eyes followed the movement, a growl leaving him. "Better make it lunch."

"Or dinner. A nice 'Meet the Parents' dinner is always good."

Derek grinned wide, leaning down into Stiles' personal space. "Dinner sounds fantastic."

With that, their lips reconnected and Stiles knew that while their story didn't follow the traditional fake dating cliche, it definitely reached the same conclusion, and he was infinitely grateful for it.