.the sword and the faith.

braeden play mating derek at school, tho.

pushing him into a secluded corner first thing in the morning, biting at his mouth and shoving a hand down the back of his pants. teasing him with her fingers until he gets wet and open, sending him off to class like that, dick straining against his zipper, ass clenching hungrily around nothing.

and he doesn't walk then, he slinks, knowing all the alphas are looking at him. knowing that they know he needs a fuck in the worst way. knowing that oh, he's not gonna let them.

he goes only ass up for one person.

(he'll get his fuck during lunch break; hidden away in a bathroom stall; braeden digging out the harness and dildo she's started to carry everywhere; doing him so hard and fast he ends up clawing at the tiles.)

[human alpha!braeden and werewolf omega!derek, underage, a/b/o dynamics. reference to play mating. because y’all broke my brain. most of all halfhardtorock. master post for play mating stories here. and so much <3 to pinetreekate. you know why.]

They're fourteen when she can't take it anymore, pushes him up against a tree, her hands firm on his waist as his fingers flutter over her arms, unsure. She puts her mouth on his throat, feels his pulse hammer against her lips, feels the whine that works itself of of his throat more than she can hear it over the blood rushing through her ears.

  Derek's tense for a second, and she waits him out, waits until he melts back against the tree, baring his throat to her with a tilt of his head. She mouths across it, teases him with her teeth, flicks her tongue over the soft skin under his chin. He shudders against her, and she can smell him getting wet for her, feels him boning up against her stomach.

[set a few hours after this.]

It's dark in the loft when Derek wakes up to Stiles rubbing his dick between Derek's slick cheeks, poking at his hole, trying to get back into him.

"Cut it out," he mumbles, reaching behind himself and taking hold of Stiles' hip, stilling him. Stiles whines, high-pitched and distressed, and Derek groans, presses his face into his pillow.

The first fuck -- hell, even the first dozen -- can be excused by Stiles' rut triggering a sympathetic heat in Derek. Breeding overrides everything, dislikes and customs and rules. Everyone knows it, and it's not a big deal. But since Derek's body didn't initiate this, he's not as far gone as Stiles. Especially not after they made it through the first wave of heat. He could end it now. Throw Stiles out of his bed, call his father to get him picked up.

He knows he won't do it, though. Stiles smells, feels too good, making Derek want him in a way he can't fight despite all the lines he drew between them ever since Stiles, at fourteen, started to follow him around like an eager puppy. He hates himself for being this weak, this needful, even as he shifts into his back and pulls Stiles on top of him.

"Derek," Stiles says, hiding his hot face against Derek's neck, his breath hitching like he's in pain. He's shoving his dick down against Derek's now in helpless little thrusts, painting Derek with his pre-come, and Derek closes his eyes. Even now in the dark, where Derek doesn't have to look at Stiles and see how young he still is, it's unmistakable simply by how unfinished and skinny his body feels in Derek's arms, the unpracticed roll of his hips. And it doesn't matter that Stiles is sexually mature now, by society's standards and the law; Derek shouldn't want him like this, not after what Kate did to him.

"Just like that," Derek says, cradling Stiles between his thighs. He feels tipsy on Stiles' scent, his hole's already twitching and pulsing with the necessity of having Stiles again, his dick hard and needy, and he's ashamed, so fucking ashamed, but he can't say no to him. "Put it in me, c'mon."

Stiles whimpers, rutting against Derek and trying to get into position but he's too uncoordinated to get there. Derek huffs. Age aside, this is why he doesn't fuck virgin alphas.

alenie hat auf deinen Eintrag geantwortet:When Stiles’ first rut hits, it’s twenty minutes...

he's the most grumpy about all of it. just. this is who biology picked out for him, okay:

derek would like to kick biology in the balls. out of all the people in the world, he ends up with that annoying, wet behind the ears bb!alpha. even before stiles gets his knot, his scent's a promise in the worst-best way, a never ending tease that drives derek nuts.

he knew what would happen when stiles went into rut for the first time, and he hates himself for it. for wanting to touch someone so young, for knowing that he won't be able to resist. not even after what kate did to him after she induced his first heat and took him to bed.

so yeah, he's always angry in a helpless way around stiles, unable to shed his skin and treat him better.

and even later when he gets that stiles is okay, that he's not fucking him up, he's still pissy. but in a happy way? because stiles.

When Stiles' first rut hits, it's twenty minutes into his chemistry class, and Harris has given him the stink eye a dozen times already, making snide comments about Stiles' inability to sit still.

It's technically nothing new, just the same old same old he's been hearing since kindergarten, but this time, Stiles isn't bored, no. He's overheated and itchy in an undefinable way, his soft dick a no-good aching weight between his legs.

His knot pops without any warning, without any stimulation, making his dick go hard so fucking fast that Stiles gasps out in pain and curls down over the table, clawing at it as he spreads his legs to make room for his knot.

"Dude, you okay? Stiles?" Scott asks, grabbing Stiles by the shoulder, and Stiles jerks away from his touch, falls out of his chair with a snarl.

...

He's not entirely clear how he makes it from the school to Derek's loft, everything blurred out by the need to touch Derek, to get in him.

"Let me in," he pants with his forehead pressed against the door. He gave up on pounding against it a while ago but fuck, fuck, he knows Derek's in there. He can smell the heat on Derek, the earthy-sweetness of it, and Stiles needs to get between his legs, taste him, see if he's already open. "Derek. Please. I know you're wet already, ready for me, and I wanna--"

The door rolls open abruptly, and Stiles flinches in surprise, stumbling back, but Derek grabs him by the shirt, yanks him inside.

"A fucking carrot makes me wet the right time of the month," Derek snaps, naked and flushed and looking fucking pissed off as he walks Stiles backwards to his bed and shoves him onto it.

"It's not time for your heat," Stiles croaks out, his throat parched and hurting with it. His hips roll up up helplessly when Derek straddles his thighs and unbuckles his pants. "That's not for another two weeks. This is just because of me, for me--"

"Shut up," Derek says, lifting Stiles' dick out and cradling it in his hand, his fingers flitting over the sensitive, too tight skin around Stiles' knot.

Stiles chokes on nothing, need blazing through him, and he tries to sit up, to roll Derek over and--

Derek shoves him back down, wrapping one hand around Stiles's throat in warning while he starts to squeeze Stiles' knot with the other. Stiles cries out and slams his eyes shut, tears leaking out because -- it's too much, to be touched there, Stiles can't--

"There's one thing you can forget about, alpha," Derek says, leaning in and whispering into Stiles' ear, "and that's omegas just rolling over for you. Any omega knows what they want and need--"

"Derek."

"--And if you're lucky, they want to make some use of your knot."

"Please! Please, please let me--"

"I'll make you come now," Derek says, squeezing down harder on Stiles, twisting his hand, and Stiles sees stars. "And then we'll see if you can be good for me. If not, I've always got my toys."