Mating Practices of the Beacon Hills Pack
Author: emocezi
Title: Mating Practices of the Beacon Hills Pack
Wordcount: 2964
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Derek/Stiles/Scott/Jackson
Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Wolf nor do I make a profit from this work of fiction.
A/N: Written for the prompt: Derek is the alpha, Jackson and Scott are the betas and Stiles is the omega, since he's the only one still human, in the new pack. Werewolves go into heat and take it out on Stiles. Dirty, rough claiming sex with Derek being super toppy and Jackson and Scott get his sloppy seconds. No non con or dub con. I want them all to enjoy it. Come play and dirty talk (gonna breed you full of pups etc) welcomed and encouraged. :D on the teenwolfkink community.
Stiles wears no marks to show his place in the pack. No bites or scratches, no bruises pressed into his pale, fragile flesh. Instead he wears he scent of his wolves.
Scott’s scent comes from the nights spent at each other’s houses, where they sleep sprawled over each other like restless puppies, just like they’ve always done.
Jackson’s scent comes from the sweaty hugs he’ll pull Stiles into when an impossible goal has been scored. From the arms he’ll throw over Stiles when they walk down the hall to History, Scott next to them, rubbing his hands over Stiles’ skin and clothes.
Derek’s scent comes from the shirts he borrows, or the jacket he drapes over Stiles’ shoulders on a particularly cold full moon. Stiles sitting on the steps of Derek’s home and waiting for his wolves to finish running and snapping playfully at each other.
What they don’t tell him, what they’ve neglected to mention. Is that this, their scents mixing equally on his skin means he’s theirs, fully, completely. Means he doesn’t belong to any one of them, but to all of them as a whole. They own him as much as Derek owns their submission to him.
Stiles has looked up pack dynamics, the hierarchy and unspoken rules that makes the pack run smoothly. He knows that well the Alpha has last say in anything, he doesn’t necessarily make the decisions. He knows that the Alpha can change, that if another wolf challenges him and he concedes, a new Alpha will come to power. Though after watching Derek kill his uncle to come of power, he thinks it works a little differently here then with wolf packs in the wild.
He also knows that as the only human in the pack, and Derek has told him only once he qualifies as pack, that he takes the spot of omega: the weakest member of the pack. It’s strange though, the way none of them treat him like an omega. They don’t taunt him or take their frustrations out on him.
He’s only been present for one of the fur piles the wolves like to engage in --to share scent with each other, strengthening the bonds of pack through physical and mental closeness-- they keep him in the middle, each claiming a portion of his skin to spread their scent across.
No one thinks to tell him what it means when November rolls around and his wolves start acting strange. They get more handsy, physical, even Derek. Especially Derek. He starts grabbing the back of Stiles’ neck for no reason, letting his hand rest there, thumb rubbing at the indent in the back of his neck.
The touching keeps escalating from hands on his skin, to one memorable night in mid November when Derek had kissed him. The moment the Alpha had released Stiles, Jackson and Scott were on him. It should have felt weird kissing his best friend. Felt wrong to have Jackson nosing at his growing erection like he’d forgotten how pants worked while Derek watched with anticipation glowing in his eyes.
He’d guided them, told them where to touch and how much pressure to exert to take Stiles apart until his brain stopped working and all he could do was writhe, making breathy little moans at the feeling of hands and mouths on his skin. Derek waited until the last minute, until Stiles was right on the edge before he moved in to stake his claim.
He pushed Jackson and Scott away, licking at Stiles’ erection like it was candy. The betas whined but obeyed, and Jackson moved to lick at the Stiles’ chest, worrying at his oversensitive nipples until Stiles was arching into the sensation, his cries lost in Scott’s mouth.
It took a few moments to get his brain back to normal after he came, and it was surprising to watch Derek allow Scott to lick into his mouth, claiming a taste of Stiles. Even more surprising when Jackson took a turn, whining into the kiss, like he wanted more then Derek was allowing.
They cleaned him up, pulling his clothes back on and acting like they hadn’t just given Stiles the first sexual experience of his life, his first orgasm brought on by something other then his own hands. He’s hoping this isn’t a one time deal.
It isn’t.
It happens next month around the same time. A week after the full moon, and this time it’s more aggressive. Derek starts it off, but this time it’s not a hesitant gentle pressure of mouths like the last time. This time Derek takes, nipping at Stiles’ lips and sucking on his tongue, hands cupped around Stiles’ jaw.
Jackson and Scott are on him before Derek releases his mouth to catch his breath. He makes a startled noise into Derek’s mouth when his pants are unbuttoned and dragged down to his ankles, his boxers going with them. Derek shifts, moving off to the side a little as Jackson falls to his knees, nuzzling at Stiles’ hip bone.
There’s a scuffle as Scott pushes at Jackson, growling and nipping at his ear to show he’s the more dominant of the two. Jackson noses at Scott’s jaw in a silent apology and lets Scott decide where he wants to put his mouth first. Stiles jerks, yelping into Derek’s mouth at the feeling of two mouths on him, his knees shake and he’s lowered to the ground, Derek still feasting on his mouth.
It happens again, Stiles is right on the edge of coming and Derek pulls away from where he’s been laving bruises on Stiles’ throat and shoves Jackson and Scott away. Scott fights him for a moment giving in when Derek growls and snaps at him. He chuffs and backs off, leaving Derek to swallow Stiles down while the two betas soak their scent into his skin, rubbing their hands and faces all over Stiles’ chest while he whimpers and moans and digs his fingers into Derek’s hair.
January is when it all changes.
It’s the week after the full moon, and Stiles is expecting to get pulled into a kiss and then pulled down to the ground. He’s expecting to get hot mouths licking and sucking on his cock and balls, to have Derek finish him off and watch Scott and Jackson rut against each other and beg for scraps of Stiles’ orgasm from Derek’s mouth.
Instead he gets pulled out of his vehicle the second the jeep stops. Jackson and Scott are already there, play fighting until Derek throws Stiles over his shoulder and heads into the house. The share a look, share a grin and follow their Alpha up the stairs.
Stiles is tossed down onto the mattress and Derek is on him, growling a warning for the two betas to keep their hands to themselves until he’s done. Jackson whines, and Scott huffs and paces, looking over every few seconds to see if he can pounce on the bed yet.
“So hey this is different. Not that I’m complaining.” Stiles babbles, lifting his hips so Derek can tug off his jeans and boxers. His shirt is next and it gets ripped at the collar because Stiles was too slow in getting it off. He squawks at the harsh treatment of one of his favorite pieces of clothing and gets an amused glance in return.
Derek is grabbing a tube from under his pillow and Stiles can feel his eyes getting bigger. That’s lube. There is no way that is anything but lube. He babbles, mindless words strung together in a sentence, even as Derek does this ninja flip that has Stiles on his stomach before he even sees Derek move.
“So this is really different. Once again, not complaining. Is this the mating thing? ‘Cause I was reading about how wolves usually always mate in January ‘cause of the extra ohmygod food and Jesus do that again.”
Jackson whines again, edging a little closer to the bed, wanting to rub his cheek across Stiles’ back, to help Derek stretch him open with calloused fingers. Scott has a little more self control, shifting from foot to foot and watching for Derek’s nod of approval. It’s not going to come for a while.
This is his privilege, his right. Stiles is still untouched save for their monthly proclivities, and Derek feels the wolf prowling under his skin, just as needy and touch starved as he feels. He works another finger into Stiles, twisting and shoving and watching the way the his hole spreads and clings. Virgin no longer.
Stiles arches back into the sensation, body begging for more even as the words spill out of his mouth. Pleading and writhing, helpless against the onslaught of Derek. Every part of the Alpha of is focused on him, focused on working him open until he’s breathless with lust.
He takes half of Derek’s fist before the Alpha deems him ready. Stiles goes a little lightheaded when he hears Derek’s zipper being drawn down, the rustle of his pants and t-shirt being ripped off in a hurry. Seconds pass, the space between two heartbeats and Derek is back, pressing down on him with his entire body, pinning Stiles to the bed.
Jackson edges closer, pure want on his features. He rests a hand on the sheets and Derek snarls at him, nuzzling against Stiles’ neck and gripping the base of his cock to guide himself into Stiles.
For a moment none of them even breathe, and then Derek bites the back of Stiles’ neck. The omega goes tense under him and both Scott and Jackson can practically feel the moment the head of Derek’s cock breeches Stiles. His breath hitches and he makes a fist, slamming it into the mattress and gripping the sheets.
He’s helpless under Derek, pinned to the bed by the Alpha’s superior strength and weight. There’s no where he can go, not that he wants to leave. The stretch is almost too much, and he suddenly appreciates the time Derek took to work him open.
Derek works himself in until the heavy weight of his balls rest against Stiles own and he stays like that for a few moments, until he can sense the relaxation and acceptance in Stiles. He readjusts his grip on the back of Stiles’ neck, with just enough force to let the omega know he has to stay still.
Derek starts to thrust, slowly at first, and then when he’s sure he’s in no harm of hurting Stiles he picks up his pace. Even Scott whines at the scent and sound of it, and the sounds Stiles’ is making, echoing around the room. He keeps pacing, ignoring Jackson who skirts around the bed, looking at every possible angle.
Derek fucks hard, his hands digging bruises into Stiles’ skin wherever his fingers touch. He stops for a moment to pull backwards, urging Stiles onto his hands and knees, letting the omega support his weight and taking the opportunity to run his hands all across Stiles’ skin, letting his scent soak in.
Scott and Jackson will have their turns, but they need to remember it was Derek who had him first. Derek who worked him open and took his virginity. Stiles belongs to him, even more then the betas do because Stiles is human and needs his protection more then Scott, more then Jackson.
He grips at Stiles’ hips, pulling them back and snapping his own hips forward in a frantic motion. Stiles is nearly screaming, back arching beautifully, hands gripping the blankets and pulling the fitted sheets off the corners off the mattress. He can feel himself getting close and pushes in as far as he can, shoving into Stiles with shallow thrusts that grind and press and create the friction that has Stiles howling like the wolf he isn’t.
Derek feels the knot at the base of his cock swelling, trapping him inside Stiles while he comes, filling Stiles with his seed. He growls the entire way through his orgasm, hips moving constantly, breeding Stiles like he’s a bitch.
Stiles whimpers, his head hanging low. He tries to get a hand inbetween his legs to pull at his cock, rock hard and leaking precome onto the sheets and blankets beneath him. Derek smacks his hand away, and gives Stiles’ cock one hard pull, then he’s sliding out of Stiles, watching his seed drip down pale, trembling thighs and rumbles his approval.
He turns to look at Scott, nodding and moving to the head of the bed as the beta mounts his friend. Sinking deep into Stiles with no resistance. Derek lifts the omega’s chin, lets Stiles seek out his mouth, swallows his whimpers and whines as Scott ruts.
The beta’s hips snap, and he seems to have enough of his own mind left to run his hands up and down Stiles’ spine in a gentle offer of comfort, even as he fucks the omega hard enough to inch him along the mattress, until his face is pressed against Derek’s chest.
Jackson puts his hand on the bed again, shooting Derek a pleading look. He gets a brief show of teeth, a warning to wait his turn. Scott will be done soon, if the way he’s growling means anything. His thrusts turn shallow and he plasters himself along Stiles’ back, mouthing at the back of his neck as he knots and fills the omega.
Stiles jerks, body rocking with the force of Scott’s thrusts and he whimpers helplessly, mouthing at Derek’s chest, not even trying to reach for his own cock this time. It’s a lesson learned and Derek takes Stiles’ mouth again as a reward for knowing his place here.
There’s a space of three minutes, where Scott rocks gently against Stiles, waiting for his knot to subside. Stiles’ entire body is trembling from muscle fatigue and the strain of holding himself upright, supporting the heavy bodies of his wolves.
Finally Scott pulls free, swiping his fingers across the semen leaking down Stiles’ thighs and moves to make way for Jackson. The beta pounces, gripping Stiles’ hips and fucking into him with such force that Stiles screams and Derek snarls out a warning. Jackson slows just enough, his hips frantically moving.
He’s whining like he’s the one being fucked, his eyes squeezed shut as he flexes his hands over Stiles’ hips. The omega is yelping with every thrust, his eyes rolling back in his head and he lets himself fall from his hands to his elbows, turning his face to rest his cheek on Derek’s thigh.
Derek watches, lays his hand across Stiles’ shoulders and gently rubbing. He can feel the omega trembling at his touch, his entire body jolting with the force and power of Jackson’s thrusts.
Stiles can’t seem to get enough air in his lungs, his breath coming out in harsh frantic sobs of noise that get lost under the desperate howls Jackson is making. He rubs his cheek against Derek’s thigh, searching blindly for relief.
He felt Jackson swell inside him, felt the stretch and pull of the knot, the hot spray of seed. He clenched around the beta, whining and shaking and so damn ready for this to be over. Jackson keeps thrusting in shallow thrusts, keeps coming and howling until it sounds like he’s dying.
Finally, finally he stops thrusting and stays still, his body trembling from the force of his orgasm. He tries to pull away too soon and Stiles yelps in pain, body arching backwards to minimize the discomfort. Derek snarls again and Jackson freezes, letting the Alpha arrange them both, moving them so they lay on their sides.
Stiles had his eyes closed, his hips moving in aborted little pushes, trying to find completion. His cock swayed and bounced against his stomach, an angry purple colour, precome steadily leaking a sticky mess onto Stiles’ bare stomach.
Derek took a moment to look his fill, brushing his hand over Stiles’ head. Jackson tried to dislodge again and earned a cuff across the ear for his efforts. It was obvious he’d never knotted before, isn’t sure how long he had to stay joined.
It’s another few minutes before Jackson can safely pull out, and the movement makes Stiles jerk and whimper, every part of his body overly sensitive and looking for release. Derek ignores Scott and Jackson, taking Stiles’ mouth in a deep kiss and wrapping his fist around the omega’s cock.
He lets Stiles thrust into his hand, squeezing gently until the omega comes with a harsh cry that Derek swallows. He works Stiles through his orgasm until he’s twitching and trying to get away from the sensations.
Derek wipes his hand in the mess on Stiles belly and chest and turns, holding it out to the two betas. Scott goes to his knees first, Jackson following after. They take turns licking Derek’s hand clean and crawl onto the bed to nuzzle at Stiles, licking at the bruises and marks they’ve left behind.
Derek lays down and pulls Stiles against him, rubbing hands all over the omega until his scent is the most powerful. He curls his body around Stiles and waits for Jackson and Scott to join them.
Their tumble on top of Stiles, as cheerful and playful as cubs, nosing and licking and scenting him where Derek allows.
Stiles lets them, too tired to object and push them away like he normally does when they get like this at the end of a full moon, happy and moondrunk. He’s fucked out, wrapped up in strong arms with his wolves all around him. He falls asleep like that, feeling safe and happy and sore in places he’ll worry about tomorrow.
Title: Mating Practices of the Beacon Hills Pack
Wordcount: 2964
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Derek/Stiles/Scott/Jackson
Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Wolf nor do I make a profit from this work of fiction.
A/N: Written for the prompt: Derek is the alpha, Jackson and Scott are the betas and Stiles is the omega, since he's the only one still human, in the new pack. Werewolves go into heat and take it out on Stiles. Dirty, rough claiming sex with Derek being super toppy and Jackson and Scott get his sloppy seconds. No non con or dub con. I want them all to enjoy it. Come play and dirty talk (gonna breed you full of pups etc) welcomed and encouraged. :D on the teenwolfkink community.
Stiles wears no marks to show his place in the pack. No bites or scratches, no bruises pressed into his pale, fragile flesh. Instead he wears he scent of his wolves.
Scott’s scent comes from the nights spent at each other’s houses, where they sleep sprawled over each other like restless puppies, just like they’ve always done.
Jackson’s scent comes from the sweaty hugs he’ll pull Stiles into when an impossible goal has been scored. From the arms he’ll throw over Stiles when they walk down the hall to History, Scott next to them, rubbing his hands over Stiles’ skin and clothes.
Derek’s scent comes from the shirts he borrows, or the jacket he drapes over Stiles’ shoulders on a particularly cold full moon. Stiles sitting on the steps of Derek’s home and waiting for his wolves to finish running and snapping playfully at each other.
What they don’t tell him, what they’ve neglected to mention. Is that this, their scents mixing equally on his skin means he’s theirs, fully, completely. Means he doesn’t belong to any one of them, but to all of them as a whole. They own him as much as Derek owns their submission to him.
Stiles has looked up pack dynamics, the hierarchy and unspoken rules that makes the pack run smoothly. He knows that well the Alpha has last say in anything, he doesn’t necessarily make the decisions. He knows that the Alpha can change, that if another wolf challenges him and he concedes, a new Alpha will come to power. Though after watching Derek kill his uncle to come of power, he thinks it works a little differently here then with wolf packs in the wild.
He also knows that as the only human in the pack, and Derek has told him only once he qualifies as pack, that he takes the spot of omega: the weakest member of the pack. It’s strange though, the way none of them treat him like an omega. They don’t taunt him or take their frustrations out on him.
He’s only been present for one of the fur piles the wolves like to engage in --to share scent with each other, strengthening the bonds of pack through physical and mental closeness-- they keep him in the middle, each claiming a portion of his skin to spread their scent across.
No one thinks to tell him what it means when November rolls around and his wolves start acting strange. They get more handsy, physical, even Derek. Especially Derek. He starts grabbing the back of Stiles’ neck for no reason, letting his hand rest there, thumb rubbing at the indent in the back of his neck.
The touching keeps escalating from hands on his skin, to one memorable night in mid November when Derek had kissed him. The moment the Alpha had released Stiles, Jackson and Scott were on him. It should have felt weird kissing his best friend. Felt wrong to have Jackson nosing at his growing erection like he’d forgotten how pants worked while Derek watched with anticipation glowing in his eyes.
He’d guided them, told them where to touch and how much pressure to exert to take Stiles apart until his brain stopped working and all he could do was writhe, making breathy little moans at the feeling of hands and mouths on his skin. Derek waited until the last minute, until Stiles was right on the edge before he moved in to stake his claim.
He pushed Jackson and Scott away, licking at Stiles’ erection like it was candy. The betas whined but obeyed, and Jackson moved to lick at the Stiles’ chest, worrying at his oversensitive nipples until Stiles was arching into the sensation, his cries lost in Scott’s mouth.
It took a few moments to get his brain back to normal after he came, and it was surprising to watch Derek allow Scott to lick into his mouth, claiming a taste of Stiles. Even more surprising when Jackson took a turn, whining into the kiss, like he wanted more then Derek was allowing.
They cleaned him up, pulling his clothes back on and acting like they hadn’t just given Stiles the first sexual experience of his life, his first orgasm brought on by something other then his own hands. He’s hoping this isn’t a one time deal.
It isn’t.
It happens next month around the same time. A week after the full moon, and this time it’s more aggressive. Derek starts it off, but this time it’s not a hesitant gentle pressure of mouths like the last time. This time Derek takes, nipping at Stiles’ lips and sucking on his tongue, hands cupped around Stiles’ jaw.
Jackson and Scott are on him before Derek releases his mouth to catch his breath. He makes a startled noise into Derek’s mouth when his pants are unbuttoned and dragged down to his ankles, his boxers going with them. Derek shifts, moving off to the side a little as Jackson falls to his knees, nuzzling at Stiles’ hip bone.
There’s a scuffle as Scott pushes at Jackson, growling and nipping at his ear to show he’s the more dominant of the two. Jackson noses at Scott’s jaw in a silent apology and lets Scott decide where he wants to put his mouth first. Stiles jerks, yelping into Derek’s mouth at the feeling of two mouths on him, his knees shake and he’s lowered to the ground, Derek still feasting on his mouth.
It happens again, Stiles is right on the edge of coming and Derek pulls away from where he’s been laving bruises on Stiles’ throat and shoves Jackson and Scott away. Scott fights him for a moment giving in when Derek growls and snaps at him. He chuffs and backs off, leaving Derek to swallow Stiles down while the two betas soak their scent into his skin, rubbing their hands and faces all over Stiles’ chest while he whimpers and moans and digs his fingers into Derek’s hair.
January is when it all changes.
It’s the week after the full moon, and Stiles is expecting to get pulled into a kiss and then pulled down to the ground. He’s expecting to get hot mouths licking and sucking on his cock and balls, to have Derek finish him off and watch Scott and Jackson rut against each other and beg for scraps of Stiles’ orgasm from Derek’s mouth.
Instead he gets pulled out of his vehicle the second the jeep stops. Jackson and Scott are already there, play fighting until Derek throws Stiles over his shoulder and heads into the house. The share a look, share a grin and follow their Alpha up the stairs.
Stiles is tossed down onto the mattress and Derek is on him, growling a warning for the two betas to keep their hands to themselves until he’s done. Jackson whines, and Scott huffs and paces, looking over every few seconds to see if he can pounce on the bed yet.
“So hey this is different. Not that I’m complaining.” Stiles babbles, lifting his hips so Derek can tug off his jeans and boxers. His shirt is next and it gets ripped at the collar because Stiles was too slow in getting it off. He squawks at the harsh treatment of one of his favorite pieces of clothing and gets an amused glance in return.
Derek is grabbing a tube from under his pillow and Stiles can feel his eyes getting bigger. That’s lube. There is no way that is anything but lube. He babbles, mindless words strung together in a sentence, even as Derek does this ninja flip that has Stiles on his stomach before he even sees Derek move.
“So this is really different. Once again, not complaining. Is this the mating thing? ‘Cause I was reading about how wolves usually always mate in January ‘cause of the extra ohmygod food and Jesus do that again.”
Jackson whines again, edging a little closer to the bed, wanting to rub his cheek across Stiles’ back, to help Derek stretch him open with calloused fingers. Scott has a little more self control, shifting from foot to foot and watching for Derek’s nod of approval. It’s not going to come for a while.
This is his privilege, his right. Stiles is still untouched save for their monthly proclivities, and Derek feels the wolf prowling under his skin, just as needy and touch starved as he feels. He works another finger into Stiles, twisting and shoving and watching the way the his hole spreads and clings. Virgin no longer.
Stiles arches back into the sensation, body begging for more even as the words spill out of his mouth. Pleading and writhing, helpless against the onslaught of Derek. Every part of the Alpha of is focused on him, focused on working him open until he’s breathless with lust.
He takes half of Derek’s fist before the Alpha deems him ready. Stiles goes a little lightheaded when he hears Derek’s zipper being drawn down, the rustle of his pants and t-shirt being ripped off in a hurry. Seconds pass, the space between two heartbeats and Derek is back, pressing down on him with his entire body, pinning Stiles to the bed.
Jackson edges closer, pure want on his features. He rests a hand on the sheets and Derek snarls at him, nuzzling against Stiles’ neck and gripping the base of his cock to guide himself into Stiles.
For a moment none of them even breathe, and then Derek bites the back of Stiles’ neck. The omega goes tense under him and both Scott and Jackson can practically feel the moment the head of Derek’s cock breeches Stiles. His breath hitches and he makes a fist, slamming it into the mattress and gripping the sheets.
He’s helpless under Derek, pinned to the bed by the Alpha’s superior strength and weight. There’s no where he can go, not that he wants to leave. The stretch is almost too much, and he suddenly appreciates the time Derek took to work him open.
Derek works himself in until the heavy weight of his balls rest against Stiles own and he stays like that for a few moments, until he can sense the relaxation and acceptance in Stiles. He readjusts his grip on the back of Stiles’ neck, with just enough force to let the omega know he has to stay still.
Derek starts to thrust, slowly at first, and then when he’s sure he’s in no harm of hurting Stiles he picks up his pace. Even Scott whines at the scent and sound of it, and the sounds Stiles’ is making, echoing around the room. He keeps pacing, ignoring Jackson who skirts around the bed, looking at every possible angle.
Derek fucks hard, his hands digging bruises into Stiles’ skin wherever his fingers touch. He stops for a moment to pull backwards, urging Stiles onto his hands and knees, letting the omega support his weight and taking the opportunity to run his hands all across Stiles’ skin, letting his scent soak in.
Scott and Jackson will have their turns, but they need to remember it was Derek who had him first. Derek who worked him open and took his virginity. Stiles belongs to him, even more then the betas do because Stiles is human and needs his protection more then Scott, more then Jackson.
He grips at Stiles’ hips, pulling them back and snapping his own hips forward in a frantic motion. Stiles is nearly screaming, back arching beautifully, hands gripping the blankets and pulling the fitted sheets off the corners off the mattress. He can feel himself getting close and pushes in as far as he can, shoving into Stiles with shallow thrusts that grind and press and create the friction that has Stiles howling like the wolf he isn’t.
Derek feels the knot at the base of his cock swelling, trapping him inside Stiles while he comes, filling Stiles with his seed. He growls the entire way through his orgasm, hips moving constantly, breeding Stiles like he’s a bitch.
Stiles whimpers, his head hanging low. He tries to get a hand inbetween his legs to pull at his cock, rock hard and leaking precome onto the sheets and blankets beneath him. Derek smacks his hand away, and gives Stiles’ cock one hard pull, then he’s sliding out of Stiles, watching his seed drip down pale, trembling thighs and rumbles his approval.
He turns to look at Scott, nodding and moving to the head of the bed as the beta mounts his friend. Sinking deep into Stiles with no resistance. Derek lifts the omega’s chin, lets Stiles seek out his mouth, swallows his whimpers and whines as Scott ruts.
The beta’s hips snap, and he seems to have enough of his own mind left to run his hands up and down Stiles’ spine in a gentle offer of comfort, even as he fucks the omega hard enough to inch him along the mattress, until his face is pressed against Derek’s chest.
Jackson puts his hand on the bed again, shooting Derek a pleading look. He gets a brief show of teeth, a warning to wait his turn. Scott will be done soon, if the way he’s growling means anything. His thrusts turn shallow and he plasters himself along Stiles’ back, mouthing at the back of his neck as he knots and fills the omega.
Stiles jerks, body rocking with the force of Scott’s thrusts and he whimpers helplessly, mouthing at Derek’s chest, not even trying to reach for his own cock this time. It’s a lesson learned and Derek takes Stiles’ mouth again as a reward for knowing his place here.
There’s a space of three minutes, where Scott rocks gently against Stiles, waiting for his knot to subside. Stiles’ entire body is trembling from muscle fatigue and the strain of holding himself upright, supporting the heavy bodies of his wolves.
Finally Scott pulls free, swiping his fingers across the semen leaking down Stiles’ thighs and moves to make way for Jackson. The beta pounces, gripping Stiles’ hips and fucking into him with such force that Stiles screams and Derek snarls out a warning. Jackson slows just enough, his hips frantically moving.
He’s whining like he’s the one being fucked, his eyes squeezed shut as he flexes his hands over Stiles’ hips. The omega is yelping with every thrust, his eyes rolling back in his head and he lets himself fall from his hands to his elbows, turning his face to rest his cheek on Derek’s thigh.
Derek watches, lays his hand across Stiles’ shoulders and gently rubbing. He can feel the omega trembling at his touch, his entire body jolting with the force and power of Jackson’s thrusts.
Stiles can’t seem to get enough air in his lungs, his breath coming out in harsh frantic sobs of noise that get lost under the desperate howls Jackson is making. He rubs his cheek against Derek’s thigh, searching blindly for relief.
He felt Jackson swell inside him, felt the stretch and pull of the knot, the hot spray of seed. He clenched around the beta, whining and shaking and so damn ready for this to be over. Jackson keeps thrusting in shallow thrusts, keeps coming and howling until it sounds like he’s dying.
Finally, finally he stops thrusting and stays still, his body trembling from the force of his orgasm. He tries to pull away too soon and Stiles yelps in pain, body arching backwards to minimize the discomfort. Derek snarls again and Jackson freezes, letting the Alpha arrange them both, moving them so they lay on their sides.
Stiles had his eyes closed, his hips moving in aborted little pushes, trying to find completion. His cock swayed and bounced against his stomach, an angry purple colour, precome steadily leaking a sticky mess onto Stiles’ bare stomach.
Derek took a moment to look his fill, brushing his hand over Stiles’ head. Jackson tried to dislodge again and earned a cuff across the ear for his efforts. It was obvious he’d never knotted before, isn’t sure how long he had to stay joined.
It’s another few minutes before Jackson can safely pull out, and the movement makes Stiles jerk and whimper, every part of his body overly sensitive and looking for release. Derek ignores Scott and Jackson, taking Stiles’ mouth in a deep kiss and wrapping his fist around the omega’s cock.
He lets Stiles thrust into his hand, squeezing gently until the omega comes with a harsh cry that Derek swallows. He works Stiles through his orgasm until he’s twitching and trying to get away from the sensations.
Derek wipes his hand in the mess on Stiles belly and chest and turns, holding it out to the two betas. Scott goes to his knees first, Jackson following after. They take turns licking Derek’s hand clean and crawl onto the bed to nuzzle at Stiles, licking at the bruises and marks they’ve left behind.
Derek lays down and pulls Stiles against him, rubbing hands all over the omega until his scent is the most powerful. He curls his body around Stiles and waits for Jackson and Scott to join them.
Their tumble on top of Stiles, as cheerful and playful as cubs, nosing and licking and scenting him where Derek allows.
Stiles lets them, too tired to object and push them away like he normally does when they get like this at the end of a full moon, happy and moondrunk. He’s fucked out, wrapped up in strong arms with his wolves all around him. He falls asleep like that, feeling safe and happy and sore in places he’ll worry about tomorrow.