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Stiles had always had a crush on Derek Hale.
He was the popular guy in school—tough, a classic alpha.
Except… he wasn’t.
It was huge news when Derek Hale, star basketball player, presented at twelve—when Stiles was only six.
Derek Hale.
The complete opposite of what omegas were expected to be. Omegas were supposed to be short and slim, with round faces and little muscle.
Derek was tall, with broad shoulders and muscles that left alphas red with envy.
Omegas were supposed to be innocent and pure.
Derek was anything but.
He dated girls and boys of all chastes like it was a personal challenge—how many people he could date in a single school year.
Stiles always hated it when he visited the Hales with his mother, only to find Derek with yet another boyfriend or girlfriend.
The omega’s neck often bore a fresh pattern of hickeys that left Stiles flushing in embarrassed envy.
“You shouldn’t whore yourself out,” Stiles muttered one day, glowering past Derek toward his latest boyfriend—a greasy alpha who stank like gasoline.
Derek’s gaze darkened.
In a blink, Stiles’ arm was grabbed, and he was dragged out of the room.
“You should mind your own business, puppy,” Derek hissed, shoving Stiles into the hallway and slamming the door in his face.
Stiles glared at the wooden doorframe, little fists clenched.
He turned on his heel and walked away, silently swearing that things would be different once he presented.
That he’d claim that wild omega and put him in his place.
Show Derek what a real alpha looked like.
Of course, things didn’t exactly go to plan.
Stiles presented early—two years earlier than most.
He was ten: long-legged, still slim, only just beginning to grow into his alphahood.
He became the butt of many jokes.
Jackson Whittemore being the worst.
Jackson shoved Stiles to the ground during lacrosse practice, laughing about how he was unpresented and still able to kick Stiles’ scrawny ass.
Stiles’ face was shoved into the dirt when someone shouted.
Then suddenly, Jackson was being pulled off him.
Stiles looked up, bruised and dirty, to see sixteen-year-old Derek Hale glaring down at Jackson.
Derek grabbed Stiles roughly by the arm, manhandling him to his feet.
Before Stiles could say a word, Derek was dragging him away toward the nurse’s office.
“You didn’t have to do that,” Stiles murmured, throat thick with shame.
What kind of alpha was he, needing a omega to save him?
“Why?” Derek challenged, holding Stiles’ stare. “Because I’m an omega?”
He scoffed, his shoulders rolling with irritation.
“I don’t give a fuck what society thinks. And neither should you.”
Stiles stared, stunned, as Derek walked off—watching the tall omega disappear down the hall.
After school, Stiles spotted Derek again—sitting on the hood of his car, laughing with friends and smoking.
Normally, Stiles would have ignored him, gotten in the car with Scott and his mom for a ride home.
“You coming?” Scott asked, brow furrowed as he looked at his friend.
But Stiles didn’t want normal today.
“No,” he said, tightening the straps on his backpack as he marched toward Derek and his friends.
His stomach swooped as Derek’s gray eyes landed on him.
Derek held eye contact as he took a long drag of his cigarette.
“What do you want?” Derek asked, exhaling thick smoke into the air.
Stiles shifted under the scrutiny of the older teens, jaw clenching as he forced the words out.
“Can I get a ride home from you?”
Derek stared at him for a long moment, taking another slow drag.
“Say please,” he said on the exhale.
Stiles’ face flushed hot while Derek’s friends chuckled.
“Please,” Stiles spat, the air practically crackling with his anger as he met Derek’s gaze.
“Sure,” Derek said, flicking his cigarette butt to the ground and stomping on it.
“Why not?”
Stiles shifted in his seat, his gaze flicking toward the stoic driver every so often.
He’d been in Derek’s car before, but never just the two of them. Usually the Hale alpha sisters were along for the ride.
His nostrils flared, catching the thick scent of omega that lingered heavy in the air.
“Stop sniffing me,” Derek grunted, eyes fixed on the road as he steered one-handed. “It’s rude.”
Stiles’ face went hot.
“Sorry, can’t help it,” he muttered, picking at a stray piece of lint on his jeans.
Derek gave him a quick once-over before turning back to the road.
“You got a girlfriend yet?”
Stiles’ flush deepened.
“Uh… no. Not yet.”
“Why not?” Derek asked, sounding genuinely curious.
“Because,” Stiles huffed, crossing his arms and glaring out the window, “have you seen me? I’m not exactly prime boyfriend material. Most people don’t even realize I’m an alpha.”
Derek hummed—a soft, noncommittal sound.
“You’ll grow into it.”
Stiles glanced back at him, unable to stop watching how the light slid across Derek’s sharp jawline, his perfect skin. It was unfair, really.
“I need a new heat partner,” Derek said suddenly.
Stiles nearly choked.
“Sorry—what?”
“My heat’s due in a couple days,” Derek said, tone casual, like he was discussing the weather. “Could use a partner. If you’re interested.”
Stiles’ heart skipped a beat, stomach swooping dangerously. He had to fight the urge to pinch himself.
“Me?” he squeaked.
“No,” Derek deadpanned. “The other guy in the car—yes, you.”
Stiles burned all over.
“Are you sure? I’ve never…” He trailed off, mortified, words dying in his throat.
“I know.” Derek’s tone didn’t mock—if anything, he sounded like he liked the fact.
Stiles’ cheeks flamed hotter.
“But you’re a smart kid, quick learner.” Derek shifted the car into park as they rolled to a stop in front of the Stilinski house.
“Okay,” Stiles murmured, heart hammering as he fumbled with his seatbelt and pushed the door open. “I’ll let my dad know. When should I… come over?”
“I’ll text you.”
The passenger door shut with a soft thunk. Derek’s car peeled out, engine revving down the street before Stiles could point out one tiny problem.
He didn’t even have Derek’s number.
On Friday Stiles’ phone buzzed with a text just as he was logging on to game with the gang.
It was from an unknown number, and it simply read: It’s starting. I’ll be over in 20.
His heart shot into overdrive. He shoved clothes into an overnight bag, nearly breaking his neck rushing down the stairs, and fired off a text to his dad. Worth it, though—because when Derek’s shiny black Camaro pulled up, Stiles was already waiting on the curb.
He tried not to look too eager as he slid into the passenger seat, but the instant the door shut with a heavy thunk, a strangled noise escaped him. The scent of omega in heat hit him like a punch, and his cock throbbed in his jeans.
“Should you be driving? Isn’t it dangerous to drive in your stat—ah—” His words died when Derek’s palm cupped his crotch, rolling over the forming bulge.
“Not bad.” Derek’s lips curved faintly as his hand pressed harder. Stiles bucked helplessly into the friction, thighs twitching.
His breathing stuttered, head spinning from the heat-thick scent and the firm stroke of Derek’s hand through denim.
“Pull it out. I wanna see what we’re working with.”
Stiles’ cheeks flamed. “Now?” he squeaked.
Derek’s glare could’ve peeled paint. Stiles scrambled for his belt, panting as he fumbled his zipper down and freed his cock.
He’d seen enough locker room showers to know he wasn’t lacking, but under Derek’s stare his stomach knotted with self-consciousness. His cock hardened quickly, long and veined, curving left at the tip.
“You’re cut,” Derek noted, almost surprised, tracing around the flushed head.
Stiles’ throat bobbed as he swallowed. “Y-yeah. Is that… bad? Do you not like cut alphas?” Fear spiked hot in his chest—rejection now would kill him.
Derek only dragged his thumb over the slick head, lifting it to his mouth. He licked, slow, savoring.
Stiles’ cock jerked, another bead spilling free.
“It’s fine,” Derek said with a wet pop of his thumb before shifting into drive and peeling out. Stiles jerked in his seat, fumbling to tuck himself away.
Derek swatted his hand. “Did I say you could put it away?” His fingers wrapped tight around Stiles’ cock, tugging slow.
“You’re driving,” Stiles gasped, toes curling. “This is—dangerous—”
“Relax.” Derek rolled his eyes, one hand steady on the wheel, the other stroking Stiles’ cock. “Just taking the edge off. Don’t want you popping your knot the second we start.”
Stiles clawed at the seat leather, shivering. “How—how are you so calm? I can smell your slick—”
“You’ve been watching too much porn.” Derek’s tone was dry. “You actually believe that stuff?”
Stiles’ ears burned.
“That omegas go feral in heat, desperate for any knot?” Derek added, squeezing just where Stiles’ knot would swell.
Stiles whined, thighs trembling, balls tightening. “Shit—I’m gonna—”
His cry cracked high as he came, spilling hot across his shirt and Derek’s hand. Derek stroked him through it, rubbing over his knot as Stiles shuddered.
“Alpha's are the only one desperate when an omega’s in heat,” Derek murmured, lifting his hand and licking it clean without a second thought.
Stiles tried fruitlessly to clean himself up during the rest of the ride, but there were still stains of come on his shirt when they finally pulled up to the Hale property.
“You can put it away for now,” Derek said, glancing at Stiles’ softened cock with faint approval before climbing out of the car.
Stiles fumbled to tuck himself back in and scrambled after him, nearly forgetting his bag in his hurry.
He’d been here before, but the house looked different now. Every detail—the dark wood, the silence—seemed sharper under the weight of what was coming.
“Where is everyone?” Stiles asked, eyes darting around the unusually empty space.
“Out. Early dinner,” Derek grunted.
He led Stiles upstairs, past rows of picture frames and down the long corridor until they reached his bedroom. Derek pushed the door open, ushered Stiles inside, then closed and locked it behind them.
Stiles fidgeted, nerves buzzing as Derek’s scent—thick with lingering arousal—filled the air.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Derek huffed, pinning him with a look. “Relax. Sit. Shoes off.”
Stiles nodded quickly, shuffling over to the bed. He sat on the edge, tugged off his shoes, and tucked the socks inside before glancing up.
His breath caught as Derek pulled his shirt off in one smooth motion, muscles shifting under golden skin.
“Take off your clothes,” Derek murmured, voice low and dark as he undid the fasteners of his own jeans.
Stiles’ chest was heaving again, sharp breaths dragging in lungfuls of Derek’s scent as he stripped off his shirt.
"You ever seen porn on how to give a rim job?” Derek asked as he stripped the last of his clothes, sauntering toward the bed.
Stiles’ mouth filled with saliva at the sight of slickness glistening down Derek’s muscular thighs.
“Yeah…” he murmured, ducking his head shyly as Derek sprawled onto his back and drew one knee up, spreading himself open.
“Show me,” Derek rumbled.
Stiles’ breath hitched. He shoved his jeans the rest of the way off and crawled up the bed after him, senses sparking wild on Derek’s musky, intoxicating scent.
“That’s it,” Derek whispered, hiking his leg higher in invitation.
Stiles settled between his thighs. Whatever Derek meant to say next was cut off as Stiles pressed his nose to the slick skin of his ass, tongue sliding out. His tastebuds lit up on the tangy flavor, and he pushed in deeper, greedily seeking the source.
Derek shuddered, muscles in his thighs twitching as Stiles’ tongue worked over his rim.
“Oh, yes,” Derek gasped, fingers tangling in Stiles’ hair to hold him down. “Just like that.”
What Stiles lacked in experience, he poured into eagerness. He licked like a man dying of thirst, moaning against Derek’s skin as his cock throbbed painfully in his jeans.
The rim twitched under his tongue, clenching and winking as though begging for more.
Derek’s hand slipped from Stiles’ hair to his cock, stroking himself with rough, fast pulls. The sight nearly undid Stiles—Derek spread out and shining with sweat, muscles flexing as his fist worked his length.
Stiles only got hungrier. He pressed in deeper, jaw aching as he thrust his tongue hard, circling and sucking at the rim until Derek’s breath turned ragged.
With a broken groan, Derek’s body tensed, chest heaving as his balls drew tight. His rim clamped around Stiles’ tongue as his cock spurted hot across his stomach and chest.
Stiles kept licking, hungry and relentless, until Derek hissed at the oversensitivity and tugged him back by the hair.
“Did I do good?” Stiles panted, dizzy on the pheromones rolling off Derek.
“You did good.” Derek’s grip loosened, shifting into a slow stroke through his hair before giving a gentle pat.
Pride swelled in Stiles’ chest, hot and satisfying.
“Wanna put that somewhere?” Derek murmured, his gaze dropping to Stiles’ cock. The head was flushed an angry red, a steady ribbon of fluid leaking from the slit.
“Yes,” Stiles breathed, eyes dragging down to Derek’s rim—still pink, winking, begging.
But Derek dropped his leg, cutting off the view.
“Not so fast.” His lips curled as he rolled to the side, rummaging in the bedside drawer.
Stiles’ mouth watered watching the ripple of muscles down Derek’s back.
“Here.” Derek turned back, holding out what looked like a rubber ring. “Put this on—just under where your knot forms.”
Stiles blinked but took it, slipping it into place with a faint wince at the tight squeeze.
“What’s it for?” he asked.
“It keeps you from coming,” Derek whispered, leaning in to claim his mouth as he pushed him flat.
Stiles gasped into the kiss as Derek’s fingers trailed down, curling around his not yet swollen knot, stroking it slow. “You’ll knot me, but you won’t spill,” Derek murmured against his lips.
A shudder ran through Stiles, his eyes fluttering shut as he kissed back hungrily. Kissing Derek was quickly climbing into his top ten favorite things in the world.
“Won’t that… hurt?” he mumbled between kisses, hands sliding up Derek’s arms.
“A little.” Derek nipped at his bottom lip, tugging as he drew back just enough to smirk. “But it’ll feel even better when I take it off and let you come. I promise.”
Heat flared in Stiles’ ears. His cock gave an eager twitch. “Okay.”
Derek grinned, settling into his lap, and Stiles’ chest ached with warmth at the sight.
Derek’s long, muscular legs framed Stiles’ hips as he guided the thick length of Stiles’ cock to his dripping rim. The swollen head kissed against him, slick smearing over skin, and Stiles’ muscles bunched tight as he fought the primal urge to just thrust inside.
“Ready?” Derek whispered, eyes gone dark and hungry as he rocked back and forth, coating Stiles’ cock in wet shiny slick.
“Please,” Stiles gasped, wide-eyed, his hands flying to Derek’s hips.
“Uh-uh.” Derek caught them, sliding them lower to grip his thighs instead. “I’m controlling the rhythm.”
He leaned forward, bracing one palm to Stiles’ chest, then angled his body just right—Stiles’ cock popped past his rim and sank into him.
A guttural groan ripped from Stiles at the feel of those silken walls clenching him tight.
“You’re just a knot for me to ride,” Derek murmured, breath catching as he slid down, inch by inch, until he was seated fully.
“Oh, fuck—” Stiles’ brows pinched as he looked down, mesmerized, watching himself vanish inside that perfect heat.
Derek set the pace, rolling his hips slow, then faster, each drag an intoxicating slide of wetness. The room echoed with the sound of it—slick, lewd, punctuated by Derek’s moans and Stiles’ broken whimpers.
Stiles dug blunt nails into Derek’s thighs, breath stuttering as he tried to keep up.
“Derek,” he gasped, eyes blown wide as the omega bounced harder in his lap.
“Gonna knot me?” Derek moaned, sinking down with force. “Hm?”
Stiles nodded fast, hips jerking up to chase that molten tightness as the base of his spine tingled with an impending orgasm.
“Please—” he choked, body shuddering as his knot swelled, locking him deep. Derek clenched around him, milking it.
“Ngh—” Stiles whimpered, the heat in his belly boiling over with nowhere to go, his balls and knot throbbing painfully under the ring’s restriction. Tears pricked his lashes as his body begged for release it couldn’t have.
Derek only rolled his hips, grinding down on the knot as he stroked himself lazily. “Fuck, you look good like this,” he groaned, thumbing the wet slit of his cock.
"Hurts,” Stiles whimpered, lashes clumped with tears.
“It’ll be worth it,” Derek moaned, one hand tweaking a nipple while the other lazily stroked his own leaking cock. “I promise.”
Shivers racked Stiles’ body. The need to come had dulled to a steady ache in his balls, simmering just out of reach.
“Kiss me?” he begged, arching up to grind against Derek’s heat.
Derek’s teeth flashed in a smile before he leaned down, tugging on their tie as he claimed Stiles’ mouth in a filthy kiss. Their teeth clicked, tongues sliding together, Derek’s tongue fucking into him until Stiles’ neck flushed hot with embarrassment and need.
Stiles’ knot softened, slipping, but Derek only kept moving—rolling his hips, hand working himself faster in rhythm.
“One more time,” Derek whispered against his lips, voice tight as he bounced hard in Stiles’ lap.
“I can’t—” Stiles choked, body shuddering as pressure built again, a pot boiling with nowhere to pour.
“You can,” Derek moaned, lashes fluttering as Stiles’ knot locked them together once more. “Yeah. Just like that.” He tucked his chin, riding Stiles with a steady grind that wrung out every twitch.
Tears burned Stiles’ eyes, his breath stuttering as his balls cinched painfully tight.
“Please,” he sobbed, clinging to Derek’s frame. “Derek, it hurts.”
“Shh.” Derek pressed open-mouthed kisses across his lips, his cheek, his jaw as he rode harder, chasing his own release. “Come on, you can do it.”
Stiles shook his head, trembling as his knot slipped free again. Derek leaned close, breath hot at his ear, voice a ragged growl over the squeak of the bed.
“Come on—knot me. Make me come.”
His teeth sank into Stiles’ skin and Stiles cried out, knot swelling again as Derek’s body clamped around him.
The band snapped.
Everything detonated white-hot as release surged through him. His whole body convulsed, chest heaving, vision blank, ears ringing. He could only feel—the rush of heat emptying out of him, the numbing pleasure flooding every nerve.
Derek squeezed and milked his knot, body rippling around him as he spilled hot across Stiles’ stomach.
Stiles blinked through the haze, the room slowly coming back into focus as Derek whispered low, steady words against his skin—too quiet to make out, but rumbling with warmth and possession in his chest.
"That was…” For once in his life, Stiles had no words. His limbs tingled, his head buzzed, and all he could do was lie there, dazed.
Derek hummed low, licking the salt from Stiles’ skin, tongue tracing over the marks left behind by his teeth.
“Wait—” Stiles jolted, shivering at the scrape of Derek’s tongue over the fresh bite. “You bit me?”
Derek drew back, tugging on their tie as he stared down into Stiles’ honey-brown eyes. “I did.”
Stiles blinked up at him, equal parts awe and surprise. “So… does this mean—” he swallowed, cheeks flushing as Derek’s walls clenched tight around him—“you’re mine?”
“No.” Derek’s scoff cut him down, and Stiles’ heart plummeted.
“It means you’re mine,” Derek corrected with a growl, looming over the alpha.
Stiles’ lips parted. “But omegas can’t mark an alpha. Only alphas can claim—” His words broke into a hiss as Derek’s inner walls clamped down on his knot like a vice.
“That’s what society thinks,” Derek growled, fingers gripping Stiles’ chin. “I told you to stop giving a fuck what they think. You’re mine. Every time my mark fades, I’ll bite you again. Understand?”
Stiles stared into the endless green of his eyes and nodded slowly. “Yeah…”
“Say it.” Derek’s nails pressed lightly into his cheeks.
“I’m yours,” Stiles whispered, heart skipping as warmth spread through his chest.
“Good.” Derek eased back, settling more comfortably over him as he waited for Stiles’ knot to shrink. “When your knot slips free, you’re going to clean me up. Then we’ll see how hard you can fuck me without coming.”
A smile tugged at Stiles’ lips, his chest still floating with the dizzy happiness of Derek’s claim. “Okay,” he whispered. “Will you kiss me again?”
Soft amusement sparked in Derek’s eyes. “Yeah.”
He leaned down, capturing Stiles’ lips in a slow, sensual kiss. Stiles’ eyes fluttered shut, heart thudding as the warmth of Derek’s mouth sealed around him. Kissing Derek was definitely his favorite thing.