#derek and stiles

[mischief-and-the-big-bad-wolf]

Stiles: We have decided that if, God forbid, anything happened to us, we would like you and Boyd to be Eli's god parents.

Erica: That is great news! Eli, when something horrible happens, you'll be all mine!

Derek: It really is an if situation.

Erica, taking baby Eli into her arms: All mine!

[arlos-warm-drpepper]

The ones that broke me because they couldn’t be together and the ones that healed me because they also couldn’t be together, but did anyways.

[and-i-would-marry-you-harry]

Stiles: *wearing Derek's clothes* Anyone have the wierd urge to lecture themselves?

Stiles: "Stiles, what are you doing?"

Derek: Stiles, what are you doing?

Scott: You summoned him.

[deliahale]

I miss them 🥺

[bluespinksyellows]

Stiles: Do you think if I just walked up to random people at restaurants or cafes and introduced myself as if we were on a blind date, that eventually someone would play along and we'd fall in love...

Derek, currently holding Stiles on his lap with his face in Stiles' neck: ....no

Isaac: *befuddled at a distance*

[hedwig221b]

“Are you gonna tell me what’s going on now?” asked Stiles.

Derek’s neck bobbed as he swallowed. His fists clenched by his sides; he forcedly relaxed them when he met Stiles’ hard gaze, but Stiles did not forget.

“We’re leaving.”

Green eyes against the ashen face.

Stiles felt like he was going deaf. His heart jumped into his throat, constricting his breathing, his stomach in a pinch.

“We?” Stiles rasped, knowing the answer.

Derek nodded. “Me and my family.”

Not ‘pack’. Because the pack included Stiles.

Tremor settled into Stiles’ fingers. He blinked and blinked but couldn’t see Derek’s face.

“T-to visit Laur—”

“We’ve been tracking Peter all this time,” said Derek. His voice was quiet and detached, in the way it never was. Like his throat was tight, too. “One of our allies has finally spotted him.”

Last night. The call.

“Okay,” Stiles nodded. If Derek needed him strong, then… then… “When are you—” he cleared his throat. “When are you coming back?”

Derek didn’t answer. The muscles bulged in his jaw. His breathing was weirdly, strangely calm.

“I do not know.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means that I could be gone for years, Stiles.”

Days, weeks. Stiles expected months, but…

Years?

“How hard is it to catch one dude?” Stiles’ voice trembled as anger sizzled inside. He stepped closer to Derek, and the wolf didn’t lean away. There was this mask on his face, stupid and impenetrable, and this was not his Derek. It wasn’t. “He is just a wolf, Derek.”

“You don’t know Peter.” Derek shook his head. “But I promise you—”

“Don’t you dare.”

“— that I will catch him. That I will kill him.”

“Derek.”

“Baby,” Derek breathed in the softest voice Stiles had ever heard from him. One could kill with this softness.

“Don’t you dare.” Stiles shook his head.

The wolf grasped at Stiles’ trembling hands. Stiles tugged the air into his lungs, but it refused to go in.

He could only look into the green, the lovely green. His life, locked inside those eyes.

“Remember I told you that I will do anything for you?” said Derek. “I meant it. Your life, your safety is all that matters to me.”

Stiles barked a hysterical laugh. “So you’re leaving Beacon Hills?!”

“I’m leaving you.”

The words slammed into Stiles’ mind. He shook his head. He could have trashed, if it weren’t for the circle of Derek’s hands on him. Those hot, strong hands. That green.

“No,” Stiles whispered.

“He is a direct threat to your life. I cannot let him live any longer, do you understand?”

“Then take me with you!” Stiles yanked his hands, but Derek held them. “I’ll be the bait, I can shoot, I can—”

“I don’t want you to come with me.”

Stiles blinked at him. His mouth opened and closed.

“What?” he breathed.

“You have your father. School. You have an entire life to live.”

Hot, angry tears slid down Stiles’ cheeks.

“I don’t want it without you!” yelled into Derek’s face. He yearned for one emotion from that man, just one to slip out of that mask, but Derek hid it all. “You are my life, you are my fucking mate, Hale! Don’t tell me all of this was nothing!”

“Stiles, you are human.”

“Oh, fuck you…”

“Listen to me. Listen!” Derek growled for the first time, tugging him close. Stiles’ eyes stung, they burned, yet he couldn’t look away, was afraid to blink. “Whatever you feel, this residual thing, it comes from me. From my side. Once I’m gone, everything will be okay.”

“What are you saying?” Stiles could not believe it.

And there. The flicker in the stone, the microscopic crack.

“I’m saying,” Derek’s voice shook, too, “that I am letting you go. You are free, do you hear me? Free from me, from this bond. Don’t wait for me. If you find someone—”

“Fuck you.” The breathing became harder and harder to accomplish.

“— don’t hold yourself back. Not because of me.”

The tears scalded his skin and his throat.

“Is that what you think of me?” Stiles spat bitterly. His chest heaved. “That I’ll just hop onto another dick as soon as the door closes, is that it?”

“Of course, not.”

“Or do you think that I feel nothing? Or that since I’m human—”

“Stop this.” Derek released his hands but caught his face, shaking the hysteria off him. Stiles clutched at his wrists, digging his nails into the wolf’s skin. “Did you not hear what I said? I could be gone for years, and I don’t want you to feel guilty for… For anything.”

“Fuck you, Hale,” Stiles snapped his teeth, sending Derek reeling back. “You want me to say the same, huh? Want me to let you go? Well, fuck you, buddy, you’re mine, do you hear me? Mine! If you look at someone, if you even think of someone other than me, I will fucking kill you.”

Derek, strangely, smiled. It was a barely there thing, a burst of sunlight in winter fog. “You don’t have to worry about that.”

“Why?”

“It’s you or no one,” he said softly, looking all over Stiles’ angry, red, tear-stricken face. His throat clicked. “I will never want anyone else. Not anymore. I’ll always belong to you.” He swallowed. “But it’s… It’s okay if you don’t belong to me.”

“Liar.”

The pretense shattered in Derek’s eyes, and just for a moment, Stiles saw what he was hiding. It was the same wolf that fucked him on the full moon. The same man who left his marks on Stiles’ skin last night.

But Derek was strong. Stronger than him. Perhaps, he wouldn’t be okay with that, but he would let Stiles go. He really meant it.

“Maybe,” Derek smiled unkindly. “But I’ll still do anything for you.”

“Stay,” Stiles begged as his throat closed up.

But it was for nothing. He felt it in his bones — this bond with Derek, already stretching thin. Derek made up his mind. There was truly nothing more important for the wolf than the life of its mate.

And even Stiles himself was helpless here.

“Breathe, baby,” Derek stroked his cheeks. “Like that.”

“Don’t—” Stiles sucked in desperate breath. “Don’t do this to me.”

“I’ll keep you safe.”

Black spots danced in front of his eyes, and Stiles shook his head to make them disappear. He had to keep looking at Derek, he had to…

His nails dug into Derek’s wrists, drawing blood, but the wolf’s hold on him was feathery light.

His eyes, green. Like nothing in this town.

“I love you, Stiles,” said Derek, his voice trembling at last. When another howl, more urgent this time, broke the forest’s silence, he squeezed his eyes shut for a second. “Promise me not to go into the woods alone. Promise not to do anything stupid.”

Stiles couldn’t breathe. Panic squeezed around his throat.

“D-don’t—” he choked in a dry, listless voice. His knees trembled.

“It will be alright,” Derek cooed at him, and since when… did he do that… “Promise to breathe for me. For both of us, okay?”

He placed his palm to the back of Stiles’ head and tugged him close. Stiles felt the familiar sleepiness that came with the pain pulling. He was too distraught to fight it. It was dark in the crook of Derek’s throat. The wolf’s veins beat against Stiles’ temple, the heat of his skin indistinguishable from Stiles’ tears.

“I love you,” Derek murmured, again and again, holding him, stroking his back and his waist.

Stiles felt like all his old wounds opened at once, and he could do nothing but bleed out here, in Derek’s arms.

It was over. Love, life, meaning… over.

This was the end.

He couldn’t even say I love you back. What a stupid lamb.

Stiles’ lips pressed against the wolf’s skin.

His gums itched unbearably strong all of a sudden, like they never did before.

With the last surge of panic-fueled, desperate adrenaline, Stiles unclenched his jaw and bit Derek’s shoulder.

Blood flooded his mouth, bitter but full of euphoric relief. It lasted for one second before Derek gasped and yanked him back.

And now… Oh, now there was no mask.

“What did you do?” the wolf asked, horrified and panicked. The bond settled between them, grounding and clicking into place — established now, for eternity. Derek’s hands shook, gripping the hair on the back of Stiles’ head. “Oh, Stiles…”

But Stiles couldn’t speak anymore. The blackness took over his vision, cinching his throat into the needle’s eye. The last thing he saw was blood, bright and hot, soaking into Derek’s shirt, and the bite that didn’t close.

You’re mine, thought Stiles as the consciousness slowly left him. Mine.

He felt Derek’s hands on his body, his neck, his cheek. The wolf’s heat, all over. The cold ground beneath them, the bright sky behind his closed eyelids.

Derek’s voice lulled him under as he was talking (to Stiles? to somebody else? he couldn’t tell). His sharp orders to breathe forced Stiles’ lungs to expand and contract. Without him, Stiles would be dead.

Derek had to know that, right? When he leaves, he has to know what it would do to Stiles?

Maybe now he would.

Stiles leaned into his mate, trying and failing to soak him in. He gulped breaths and choked on them as if they were water, sinking down and down. As long as Derek held him, Stiles did not care about drowning. He would inhale that deadly water until there was no air left.

There was no air without him, and no life. Stiles wouldn’t want it anyway in that case.

Soft sheets under his body. The smell of the leftover breakfast. Lips on his forehead, his cheek, his mouth.

Derek let go.

Stiles did not resurface.

[full version]

[artisticbeings]

You cannot tell me that if Stiles woke up to this he wouldn't scream and flail himself out of the bed.

All before he even realizes that it's just Derek.

[sterekmpreg]

Stiles: Derek… Why is our son wearing a werewolf mask?

Derek: It’s his Halloween costume…

Stiles: And what is he supposed to be exactly? Offensive to the pac-

Toddler Eli: IM DADDY! AHHHHHHH!

Stiles: *Sips coffee with dead look in his eyes.*

[thatonedudeinthecorner]

Based off of a real interaction I had with @tiffanyblewss brother why you smelling me n shit?

[sharksandsquirrelsandsnakes-ohmy]

The Human Bit the Werewolf?

Chapter 1: The Bite of 2013

Masterlist | AO3 | Chapter 2

Stiles chews on things almost compulsively, always has.

He has a binky as a toddler that had to be ripped away crying and screaming even though he'd chew through them. He chewed the lid to every sippy cup he had and the straw to every cup after.

It was funny at first, they'd call him a little chipmunk or a bunny. When it inevitably got annoying, people made thinnly veiled insults about being like a poorly trained doy or a goat.

As a kid, he chewed on the loose-hanging bit of his backpack straps. He was once gifted a cross necklace and he'd always put it in his mouth to fidget with until his dad took it away during church. He chewed on his erasers. When they were taken away, he'd chew on the metal bit of his pencils, and then he'd start chewing on the pencil itself when they took that. If they ever took his pencils, he'd start chewing on his nails or his shirt.

He still chews on his pencils. In fact, he tends to rip the clip off the mechanical ones to chew on them. He’d stick the jeep key in his mouth and rub it between his teeth. At least now, teachers don't freak out if he has gum.

It'd always been like that. Stiles didn’t really know why or what drove it, probably his ADHD since he's never had an original experience in his life(barring the supernatural). That was only half of it, though.

Then there was the biting. And, if Stiles had been a werewolf, things would have gone awry much sooner.

He often got the urge to bite things or people he cared for– after many hors of stressed googling, he figured out it was probably just a form of cuteness aggression his brain didn't properly filter. That said, he used to regularly bite his parents and Scott when he was little, before he was taught not to.

Then he started dating Malia and it got worse. He stuffed the urge down for a while, chewing his pen or nails instead.

The first time he did bite her– it was more of a nip really– it was done playfully when they were talking and joking after having sex. He really thought he’d fucked up when she pinned him against the bed on reflex. Then she told him to do it again.

She'd tell him to bite her while they had sex so he, of course, thought it was a kink thing. When Malia would catch him staring at her and chewing on his pens, she'd glare at him. Apparently, she got annoyed with him and, in a very Malia way of dealing with things, pinned him down against his bed and interrogated him about it.

"Why do you only bite me when we have sex?"

"Wha—"

"I know you want to do it more often, so why don't you," she asked, glaring down at Stiles.

"You want me to bite you more," Stiles asked, shear confusion in his voice.

"Obviously, dumbass," Malia scoffed.

Stiles might he an idiot at times, but he's not too stupid to do what he's told, especially when it benefits him too. And, sure, it was weird the first few times he did it, but it also didn't at all. He’d occasionally just take Malia's hand in his and bring it to his mouth and nip at her fingers.

It was weirdly normal, an easy habit to fall into. The only thing that made it weird was when people stared at them for it, and Malia was quick to remedy that.

When they broke up, Stiles found himself back at square one, chewing his pencils and trying to ignore his brain. It mostly resulted in a lot of teeth grinding.

Stiles started to notice the need to chewnon something got worse around the pack. He tried to chalk it up to his subconscious reacting to Malia, which he knew was bull shit. He knew what it was, who it was.

When Derek would cross his arms and flex just perfect to frame the muscles in his arms and chest or when he'd use the hem of his shirt to wipe sweat off his face, showing off his ab-muscles, or when he'd wipe blood off his face with the back of his hand, or raise his eyebrows at Stiles in annoyance, or– honestly– just exist in the mear vicinity of Stiles, it was like he teeth itched to bite him. Just a little nip, as a treat, ya know? Sometimes the irony of it would hit him, Stiles wanting to bite the werewolf when it should be the other way around. Then again, Stiles had rather regularly bitten Malia, the were-coyote while they dated.

Stiles had problems. Psychological problems.

One late night of blurry-eyed research, Derek snuck in through Stiles's open window and found him asleep at his desk with about a million b's typed into the search bar. He sighed to himself and tried to wake Stiles up. He at least wanted to get the idiot to sleep in bed rather than hunched over the desk.

"Stiles, wake up," Derek whispered, not wanted to alert sheriff of his presence.

Stiles hummed and looked at Derek tiredly.

"Come on, let's get you to bed,"Derek grumbled, lifting Stiles out of the chair so he was standing up even though Derek was supporting most of his weight.

"Thankks Der," Stiles mumbled, letting himself be guided to bed. "Ya know, you’re cute when your nice," he hummed, not fully grasping how much he'd regret it later.

Derek didn't say anything more, rather he tried to ignore the sleepy mumblings.

"So cute I could just..." Stiles clicked his teeth together in a mock bite.

In his tired state, he fully missed how Derek’s face turned red. He tossed the blankets aside and plopped Stiles down on the bed. He didn't stick around much longer, deciding he'd get the info he came for second-hand from Scott.

Stiles noticed how Derek was pointedly absent absent in the next few days. If he wanted information from Stiles, he'd ask Scott or one of the betas to ask. Stiles could text Derek about something and would be lucky to receive a one word text back.

He remembered Derek swinging by and talking some but not about what. He was sure his big mouth was ruining things again, just not how bad.

Slowly, very slowly, Derek started being willing– and able– to be around again. Still, the others ketp giving him weird looks. He also noticed that Derek would look away everytime Stiles looked at his, as if he’d been caught staring.

Of course, things couldn't possibly be normal for more than five minutes in Beacon Hills and especially not with their little group. Inevitable, things went to Hell.

Stiles couldn’t have even told you what it was they'd been fighting– some goat or bull creature with horns. He remembered the horns because he'd gotten the business end of them and a matching concussion. Really, all he remembered was sitting on the cold bathroom floor, watching Derek’s muscle move under his skin as he patched up Isaac or Scott, maybe Jackson.

That bitting itch– pun intended– grew in his head and Stiles just... leaned forward and bit Derek’s arm. His skin was salty with sweat and he could feel the hair against his skin.

He didn’t realize how quiet or still it had gotten when he leaned back. He didn't realize for a while.

"Stiles, did you just bite me," Derek asked as if he couldn't believe what had just happened. He was caught between concern and confusion and arousal but was really trying to stick with concern.

"I did," Stiles asked back, surprised he'd acted on the thought. "Shit, sorry dude. I tend to— I don't know why... Fuck, my head hurts," he sighed, trying to form a coherent explanation.

Before Stiles could figure out how to put things into words, Scott was driving him to the hospital.

And, once again, Derek was avoiding him, only worse! Stiles couldn’t get an answer through text. Derek was never there whe the pack met up. When Stiles tried to stop by the loft to talk, Derek was never there. On top of which, Stiles swore he'd see Derek out of the corner of his eye but there was nobody there when he looked. He was genuinely starting to feel crazy.

He was sure he'd fucked up really bad when goddamn Peter showed up at the school to talk to him.

"Stiles, let's go for a walk," Peter said in his fake nice, higher than thou, tone.

"I’m not supposed to talk to creepy mass murders," Stiles said back, walking towards the jeep instead.

"Now, don't you want to know why my dear nephew has been avoiding you," Peter goaded and Stiles begrudgingly stopped walking. "I must say, you are a rather forward one. I didn’t expect it, though it seems quite obvious in hindsight," he mused.

Stiles shook his head. "What are you talking about?"

"From what I understand, you bit my dear nephew without forewarning and in front of everyone. Might as well have stuck your hand in his pocket and kissed him as well," Peter teased.

"Whoa, whoa whoa, what the Hell are you talking about," Stiles asked, starting to get a little freaked out.

"What, do you not do that anymore," Peter asked rhetorically. "I always thought putting your hand in someone else's pocket was rather uncomfortable, but it was a blatant sign that you were together."

"God, I know what the pocket thing means," Stiles said, squeezing the bridge of his nose. "But why are you bringing it up?"

"I know you're not a complete idiot. That's why you're not dead... Yet," Peter added. "You dated Malia so I'm sure you understand why biting Derek was such an ordeal."

"Not, I actually don't. Explaining things isn't exactly Malia's strong suit," Stiles shot back, internally kicking himself seconds after remembering Peter was Malia's birth father. "That didn't sound right. I—"

"Stop digging the hole now," Peter told him, holding a hand up. "Malia didn't tell you, and it was never anything you came across in your research?"

"Obviously not."

"Oh, dear boy," Peter said with a slimey smirk, "biting for us is the equivalent of announcing someone is your partner. However, I'm even more curious why you did it now..."

Stiles decided quickly he was not elaborating on the why. "So, I basically told everyone - including him - that Derek and I are dating, and he immediately had me swept off the ER and is now avoiding me? Nope, still weird," he said and walked off.

Peter, having not expected this turn of events and having no more cards to play, let him walk away. "Well, this will be interesting..."

[sterekslovechildxoxo]

"The boys can't get enough of her and her honey fuck me eyes."

[mischief-and-the-big-bad-wolf]

Hi :), (context: your prompt “request” post) I’m honestly not sure how much detail/how many thoughts you’d appreciate with the prompt, so I’ll keep it short to give you more options, but please feel free to ask if you’d like more thoughts on it^^ :

Stiles gets really into doing yoga

(I don't really mind how detailed the prompt is tbh. Anddd I was in a teensy naughty mood so I wrote something smutty for yours, hope you like it!! If you were wanting something else, let me know and I can write that as well!!)

"Uh, what are you doing?" Derek asks, eyes wide as Stiles saunters into the living room in a pair of skin tight leggings and a crop top, the neckline hanging off one shoulder and showing off his prominent collarbone. He had a yoga mat tucked under one arm which he lightly chucked at Derek who caught it with a grunt of surprise.

"Exercise," Stiles answers, huffing and puffing as he pushes the coffee table to the side to make room. He holds a hand out for the mat when he's done, saying, "Mat, please."

Derek wordlessly hands it over, eyes trained on Stiles' ass as he lays the matt on the floor. "What are you wearing?" Derek asks, breathless as his cock stirs in interest.

"Clothes, Der, duh," Stiles rolls his eyes, standing with his back facing Derek.

"Mhm," Derek hums, train of thought forgotten as Stiles bends over. He palms at his cock as he asks, "Are you even wearing underwear under that?"

Stiles looks over his shoulder and smirks at Derek, replying, "Course I am, Der."

"Let me see, baby," Derek grunts, holding a hand out towards Stiles, who takes the offered hand and lets himself be pulled to stand between Derek's legs. "Show me, doll."

Stiles bites his bottom lip as he slowly pulls his leggings down to his thighs. He whimpers at Derek's groan as a pair of red, lacy thongs comes into view, his little dick straining against the fabric.

"Turn around for me, precious," Derek rasps, pulling his own sweats down to free his cock, letting it flop against his stomach as it dribbles with precum.

Stiles turns, gasping when Derek's hands immediately cradle the swell of his ass. "Fuck, baby, look at you," Derek croons, kneading the skin as he focuses on the red string disappearing between Stiles' cheeks. He pulls on the string a little, making Stiles mewl as he trips over his own feet.

"Like it, Der?" Stiles whimpers, shaking his ass a little.

"Mm, I love it, precious," Derek rumbles, leaning forward to suck a mark on Stiles' ass cheek. He pulls his cheeks apart, drooling a little as the tiny, red pucker comes into view, partially hidden by the red string. He presses a kiss on Stiles' hole, over the fabric, grinning when Stiles lurches forward a little at the contact. "Careful, baby," he teases.

Derek tries to pull Stiles' down on his lap but Stiles smacks his hands away and prances out of reach, pulling up his leggings. "Nuh-uh, I'm busy, Der."

"Too busy to sit on my cock, baby?" Derek asks, raising a brow at Stiles.

"Yeah, I found this really cool yoga instructor on Youtube. 'S supposed to help calm your energy and stuff, she's really informative too, talks about the mental and spiritual side as well as the physical," Stiles gushes. His rant doesn't deter Derek in the slightest, instead makes him harder as Stiles looks so bright eyed and passionate.

"That's nice, love," Derek fondly smiles, looking at Stiles' excited hopping.

"Yeah, so put your cock away for now, Der," Stiles primly huffs.

Derek rolls his eyes but complies, tucking his cock back in and walking over to Stiles. He wraps himself around him, swallowing Stiles' protests as he pulls him into a bruising kiss. He kisses over to Stiles' ear and sucks the lobe into his mouth before whispering, "Come find me when you're done, gonna eat you up, darling."

"O-okay," Stiles stutters, looking glassy eyed as Derek moves away, keening a little at the loss of contact.

Derek chuckles as Stiles's body wavers towards him when he moves back, pressing a final kiss to his forehead before leaving the room.

Stiles pouts and shakes his head, shouting after him, "Tease!" Derek's laughter follows him out.

[arlos-warm-drpepper]

Friendly reminder that Stiles Stilinksi is canonically the person who mellowed out Derek Hale. Lots of talk about how Derek went from hard-edged angry bad boy to loving, soft dilf, but let’s give credit where it’s due. It was physically impossible for Derek to not be angry since it was his anchor at the start of the show. That is canon. If he ever stopped being angry, he would lose control of his wolf. But then, oh but then, he met Stiles Stilinksi, and he became his anchor. That is also canon. There for, the reason Derek softened, is canonically Stiles Stilisnki.

[and-i-would-marry-you-harry]

Stiles: Is she crying? Is she crying?

Scott, on the phone with Erica: A little

Stiles, snatching the phone from Scott: You should be wailing, you stone cold bitch!

Derek, walking in: What the hell is happening?

Scott: Stiles is making me call his friends and tell them he's dead to see how they react.

Derek:

Stiles: Now call Boyd.

[deliahale]

Stiles cousin Miguel

[i-am-knot-a-writer]

Sterek Halloween Fic teaser 🎃: Obsessive/Possessive/Stalker/Creeper Alpha Derek Hale and Beautiful/Witty/Unapologetic/Hot for Derek Omega Stiles Stilinski

What could go wrong?

Derek saw him, and a hunger hit—deep, primal, undeniable. His whole body tensed, an aching need that crawled beneath his skin, setting his blood on fire. Burning with an overwhelming urge to take.

The boy was perfect.

Smooth, pale neck that begged to be marked, touched, bruised under his fingers. That bright, innocent smile, dusted with stars, made Derek’s desire all the darker, all the more vicious. The boy had no idea what he was stirring in Derek..

No idea.

Derek had lived through war, bloodshed, and endless darkness, hardened by power.

Hardened by loss.

But none of it prepared him for this—for Stiles, for someone so fragile, so pure. It felt obscene to even want him.

What right did a man like him have to devour something so untainted?

To stain something so angelic with hands that had seen nothing but filth and violence?

And yet, in this very moment, none of that seemed to matter.

Derek’s chest tightened with the certainty—the boy would be his.

No matter how much Derek had to take.

No matter how much Derek had to consume.

He could already feel it, could taste it—his hands on the boy’s trembling skin, tracing every inch, pressing into him, owning him in every way possible.

The thought of holding the omega down..

Feeling his skin quiver..

Hearing his breath hitch as he’d beg Derek to push harder, deeper—it was intoxicating.

Derek knew it was wrong..

He knew he shouldn’t.

But restraint was a game for weaker men.

And he was done pretending to care.