Archive of Our Own

Everyone expected Stiles Stilinski and Derek Hale to forge a bond that transcended the chaos of their lives. What they didn't expect, however, was that Stiles—once the hyperactive human sidekick to his best friend Scott McCall—had been turned into a werewolf during a brutal encounter with a rogue alpha pack two years ago. This transformation had amplified his already intense personality, turning him into a possessive alpha with a hair-trigger temper, especially when it came to his mate, Derek. Meanwhile, Derek, the brooding former alpha who had relinquished his status to save his pack, had surprisingly presented as an omega after the bite's lingering effects reshaped his biology. Their relationship was a whirlwind of passion, marked by Derek's unexpected pregnancy—a miracle in their dangerous world, conceived during one of Stiles' early ruts. And amidst the ongoing battles against dark forces and the joys of impending parenthood, their connection only grew stronger, though it wasn't without its explosive moments—moments that often stemmed from Stiles' unyielding protectiveness.

It was during one such tense day, filled with the pack's relentless investigations, that the incident igniting Stiles' latest bout of jealousy unfolded just hours earlier at the Beacon Hills Police Station. They were there to consult with Sheriff Stilinski on a string of mysterious disappearances tied to a new supernatural entity. Deputy Jordan Parrish, with his charming smile and unwitting flirtatious banter, had leaned a bit too close to Derek while discussing case files. Derek, ever the stoic one, had responded politely, but Stiles' werewolf senses picked up on the subtle shift in scents—Jordan's innocent admiration mingling with Derek's natural omega allure. Jealousy surged through Stiles like wildfire, his eyes flashing alpha red as he lunged forward in a move so fast that nobody saw it coming, punching Jordan square in the jaw with a growl that echoed through the station and sent him flying to the next wall with a resounding crash.

.

"He's mine!" Stiles snarled, possessiveness dripping from every word, his fangs partially extended as he strained forward, ready to pounce again. Chaos erupted in an instant—officers shouting in alarm, chairs scraping against the floor as everyone jumped to their feet. It took both Derek and Scott, along with the Sheriff and several deputies using their combined strength, to subdue Stiles and pin him against the nearest wall before he could do more damage, his chest heaving with barely contained rage until his breathing finally began to steady under their firm hold.

"Stiles, calm down—breathe, man, just breathe!" Scott urged urgently, gripping his best friend's arm tightly while shooting a worried glance at the dazed Parrish.

"Son, stand down right now!" Sheriff Stilinski barked, his voice authoritative as he helped hold Stiles back, though his eyes flickered with a mix of frustration and paternal concern. "This is my station—you can't just assault my deputies like that!"

"Easy, Stiles, I've got you," Derek murmured low in his ear, his hands firm on Stiles' shoulders, releasing calming omega pheromones to help soothe the alpha's frayed instincts even as his own heart raced from the sudden outburst.

The Sheriff glanced over at Jordan, who was rubbing his bruised jaw and slowly getting to his feet with wide-eyed shock, then turned to Derek with a pointed nod. "Derek, get him out of here—take him to the car before he causes any more trouble. Now."

Derek didn't hesitate for a second, wrapping an arm securely around Stiles' waist and steering him toward the exit as quickly as possible without escalating the situation further. As they hurried through the bustling station, Stiles continued muttering curses under his breath—"Fucking Parrish, better stay the hell away from my mate..."—his voice a low, venomous growl that drew startled looks from the surrounding officers. Behind them, Sheriff Stilinski—Noah—was already complaining loudly, his scolding directed at both parties in equal measure: "Jordan, what the hell were you thinking? Keep it professional! And Stiles—God damn it, boy, I raised you better than to throw punches in my station! You're lucky I don't arrest you both!"

Meanwhile, the rest of the police force buzzed with confusion and excited whispers, clustered around the dented wall and overturned desks, trying to wrap their heads around how skinny, sarcastic Stiles Stilinski had managed to send a grown deputy like Parrish flying across the room with one hit—muttering things like "Did you see that strength? He barely even wound up!" and "Kid must be hitting the gym hard these days..." All the while, Scott lingered for a moment longer, sighing deeply as he crouched down to gather the scattered case files they had come for, carefully picking up the papers that had gone flying everywhere when Stiles thrashed during the restraint, nearly destroying the bullpen in the process.

By the time they reached the Hale loft, the tension was so thick that anyone could had taste it, the lingering echoes of the station's chaos still hanging between them like a charged storm cloud.

"Stiles—ugh, you need to wait," Derek said, trying to shove the keys into the lock with fumbling fingers. Stiles was pressed against his back, rubbing his rapidly hardening cock into the small of Derek's back, nosing at the back of Derek's neck. The loft, rebuilt after the latest attack, now served as their sanctuary amidst Beacon Hills' endless supernatural drama.

"Can’t," Stiles gasped, "you smell so good." He whimpered, digging his teeth into the back of Derek's neck as his hands rubbed at Derek's hips, big hands palming at the swell of Derek's pregnant tummy. Derek's body, already changed by the pregnancy, responded instinctively, his huge and gigantic, fat hairy ass clenching in anticipation—Stiles' absolute kryptonite, the one thing that could reduce the sarcastic werewolf to a feral beast.

"I—I can’t get the damn key in the lock, Stiles," Derek whined at him, Stiles' scent encompassing thick waves of alpha filling Derek's nose as his hole slickens, readying itself for Stiles' massive alpha knot. The jealousy from the station still lingered in Stiles' growls, making Derek's pulse race; he secretly loved how Stiles' possessiveness always led to this, especially after such a public display.

Neither man was prepared for Stiles' rut, with things like pack meetings and fortifying the loft against threats getting in the way. But his rut was here and it was happening now; apparently whether they were in the loft or not. Derek hadn't expected it to trigger so soon, but deep down, he thanked Stiles' addiction to his ass— and Derek's addiction especially to his huge cock, which meant days of being filled with cock and cum. Derek loved feeding that addiction, knowing it excited Stiles beyond measure.

"Derek," Stiles grunted out, smoothing his hands down Derek's belly to the front of his jeans, "open the goddamn door."

As the command hung in the air, Derek whimpered, realizing Stiles didn’t mean it to be one, his mind raced with the intensity of the moment. He knew Stiles had no problem fucking him right here outside, in the open air of Beacon Hills' dimly lit streets, probably attracting an audience of curious onlookers or even rival supernaturals to stake his claim publicly and ferociously. But with how possessive and jealous Stiles was now, amplified by the rut, Derek knew he wouldn't do that—not when it risked exposing them further. And also because Derek was pregnant, his body more vulnerable than ever in their dangerous world. Derek himself wouldn't have a problem taking Stiles' massive cock outside, outdoors, in public; the thrill of it had excited him in the past, feeding into their raw, animalistic bond. But at this moment, with threats always looming and the two of them so exposed, Derek was profoundly thankful. Stiles was fighting his instincts, battling the overwhelming haze of his rut, and putting Derek first—prioritizing their safety and the precious life growing inside him over the primal urge to claim him right then and there. And sure enough, the key slid into the door at the tone of Stiles' voice.

"Fucking finally," Stiles smacked a palm onto the door, shoving it open so it bashed against the wall, cracking the plaster—a reminder of their supernatural strength. He ushered Derek inside, spinning him around before crowding him back against the wall.

He pressed his face into Derek's hair, rubbing his nose behind Derek's ear, scenting him possessively. "You're mine, Derek. No one else gets to look at you like that," Stiles growled, his voice rougher than usual, the jealousy from the station fueling his rut. Their pheromones were an overwhelming mixture in the air, a pungent combination of them, laced with the forest scents of Beacon Hills.

Stiles didn’t even undo Derek's jeans; they were stretchy and just slid off his hips, slightly wider from his pregnancy. He gripped the waistband of Derek's briefs, tugging them down as well. Derek gasped as a trail of slick slid down his thighs, his hairy ass cheeks parting slightly in invitation. Then Stiles dropped to his knees, shoving his own jeans and briefs off his hips as he nuzzled against Derek's pregnant belly, then lower, to the short hairs that surrounded Derek's cock. His own massive cock—twelve inches of thick, veined perfection, swollen and leaking precome like a waterfall—bobbed free, a testament to his werewolf enhancement.

"Smell so good," Stiles slurred, tongue flicking out against Derek's cock, making him shiver. "Taste good, too," Stiles growled, sucking Derek's cockhead into his mouth. Derek's knees shook, arousal completely taking over as Stiles sucked sloppily at his cock, precome dribbling out slick and messy. But Stiles' constant need to taste and devour Derek's hairy, lubricating ass took over quickly; he couldn't resist.

Derek was dizzy with it, Stiles' overwhelming alpha scent, stronger with his rut, filled Derek's nose, wrapping him up in a haze of need. The possessiveness from earlier made it all the more intense—Derek especially loved getting fucked after Stiles' displays of jealousy. Stiles wasn’t much better off. The taste of Derek mixed with the thick scent of his slick had Stiles hungry for his mate, a desperate need to get his knot in his tight little omega hole. He removed his mouth from Derek's cock, sloppily licking over his balls, before trying to get at Derek's hole. He grabbed one of Derek's legs, pushing it up so Derek was balanced on one leg, pressed against the wall. Stiles licked at the slick coating the back of Derek's raised thigh, slurping at the wet skin and sucking a harsh love bite, his hands spanking Derek's gigantic, fat hairy ass cheeks possessively, the sound echoing in the loft.

Derek whimpered, fingers scrambling at the wall before winding tightly in Stiles' hair. "Stiles, Stiles," he chanted, needing something, anything, to get rid of the overwhelming need that’s taken over his body.

"We gotta, fuck, we gotta get to a bed, get you comfortable," Stiles said, voice muffled from where he’s slurping at Derek's slick. Derek whimpered, touched at Stiles' sensitivity, even through the haze of his rut. After sucking another love bite into Derek's raised thigh and spanking his ass again, leaving red handprints, he got to his feet, knees cracking from being crouched for so long.

"C’mon," he slurred, tugging Derek towards their bedroom, his twelve-inch cock slapping against his thigh with each step.

Once the door was slammed behind them, Stiles crowded Derek back onto the bed. Falling carefully on top of him, pressing his face into the sweat on Derek's neck, moaning uncontrollably. "Mine, all mine," he repeated, his hands roaming possessively.

"Fuck Der, gotta get in you, need to knot, god," he whimpered, hips humping against Derek's leg, his massive cock grinding against Derek's thigh.

"Yeah," Derek gasped, spreading his legs wide. However, Stiles had a different idea first, tearing himself away from Derek's neck, where his scent was strong and sweet, then pushing up Derek's thighs so they’re pressed up against his swollen tummy.

"There," Stiles mumbled, before pressing his face against Derek's hairy, lubricating ass. He slurped greedily at the hole, devouring it with long licks, spanking the cheeks again as he tucked in two fingers alongside the press of his tongue. He groaned in pleasure, completely submerged in Derek, where his scent was thickest. Derek cried out in pleasure, hole fluttering at the attention from Stiles' tongue and fingers, the fingering exciting him more as Stiles stretched him open.

"God Stiles, yes," he whimpered with a high whine, "Knot me babe, need it." The possessiveness in Stiles' actions—eating his ass like a man starved—only heightened Derek's arousal.

That’s all Stiles needed to pull away, the tone of pure desperation in Derek's voice mirroring the way Stiles felt. He pushed himself onto his knees, swiping his fingers through Derek's slick before coating his massive twelve-inch cock, the veiny shaft throbbing as he pressed the head against Derek's fluttering hole, puffy and red from his attention.

Stiles licked his lips, groaning at the taste of Derek's slick as he pressed into Derek with one smooth thrust, sinking in slowly as Derek's hole fluttered and relaxed around the thick stretch of Stiles' swollen cock. "So tight for me, only me," Stiles growled possessively, his hands gripping Derek's hips hard enough to bruise.

Derek wailed as Stiles pressed in, finally able to itch the scratch that only Stiles' massive cock could reach. Stiles wasn’t gentle, a welcome change from how tender he’d been during Derek's pregnancy. Derek was lucky to have an alpha so sweet and sensitive, but the raw need to be claimed and used had taken over his senses. Stiles' hips slammed in and out, rougher than ever, but Derek was glad for it, the need to be knotted overwhelming everything else as he tried to fuck himself back on Stiles' cock. "Harder, Stiles, show me I'm yours," Derek begged, fueling Stiles' jealousy-driven rut.

Stiles responded instantly with a deep, guttural growl that rumbled from his chest, vibrating through both their bodies as he slammed in even harder, the force of his thrusts making Derek's pregnant belly sway beneath him. "You're mine, Derek," Stiles snarled possessively, his alpha red eyes flashing as he leaned down close to Derek's ear, hips never slowing. "You belong only to me—no one else. I'm the only one who gets to see you like this, wrecked and begging on my cock, leaking for me, full of my pup. Fucking mine."

After several more deep, punishing thrusts in missionary, filling Derek with the first thick spurts of precome that leaked out around his massive shaft, Stiles pulled out abruptly, his twelve-inch cock glistening with slick. With possessive strength, he flipped Derek onto his hands and knees, manhandling him effortlessly despite the swollen curve of his belly.

"Gonna fuck you, Gonna knot you," he snarled, spanking Derek's gigantic, fat hairy ass again—hard enough to leave fresh red handprints blooming across the pale skin—before slamming back in, his twelve-inch cock stretching Derek wide once more. The new position allowed Stiles to go even deeper, his heavy balls slapping rhythmically against Derek's ass with each rough thrust, filling the room with obscene wet sounds. Derek moaned loudly, pushing back greedily, his pregnant belly swaying gently beneath him as he braced himself on all fours.

Stiles bent down over Derek's body, draping himself possessively across his mate's back, lips straining to seal around a pert nipple. But the angle in doggy style wasn't quite right—Derek's swollen belly and the sway of his body made it challenging. With a possessive growl, Stiles grabbed Derek's hips firmly, pulling him up to sit back against his chest while still buried deep inside him, his twelve-inch cock shifting with the movement but never leaving the tight heat of Derek's hole. Derek gasped at the sudden change, his hands reaching back to steady himself on Stiles' thighs as he was maneuvered into sitting upright on Stiles' lap, facing away, their bodies locked in a intimate, vertical embrace.

Stiles contorted his body slightly, twisting under Derek's arm to bring his head around and level with Derek's huge, hairy pecs—the swollen, sensitive mounds heaving with each breath. Now perfectly positioned, Stiles latched onto one hairy nipple, biting quick and sharp before suckling softly on the tender skin, his possessiveness extending to every inch of Derek's body as he claimed him in this new way.

"Wait—shit, Stiles," Derek gasped, hands tangling in Stiles' hair as he tried to tug him away from his swollen nipple. Stiles raised his head in question, hips still fucking up into Derek relentlessly from below. "I’m just, you know, gonna—leak," he blushed, cheeks pinking up more. Stiles just grinned wolfishly before leaning back down, sealing his lips around Derek's nipple.

He roughly tongued at the puffy skin, Derek whining as the pressure built up, and then sighing in relief as his nipple started to leak milk.

Derek started producing milk two weeks ago, his nipples had been so puffy and tender; the barest of touches was enough to make his knees shake. Stiles was always delighted by how sensitive Derek's nipples were on a regular day, but the pregnancy brought that sensitivity to a whole new level.

Stiles lapped at the milk gently before switching to the other nipple, biting and suckling at it teasingly before it too started to leak. All the while, he kept thrusting roughly upward, his hands roaming to spank Derek's ass for leverage. Then, with another fluid shift, he changed positions again by flipping Derek around to face him, pulling him fully onto his lap so he could watch Derek's face as he bounced on the massive cock. "Ride me, show me how much you love this cock," Stiles commanded, his hands spanking Derek's ass cheeks rhythmically.

Derek obeyed instantly, his omega instincts and burning need making him eager to please. He braced his hands on Stiles' thighs and began to move, lifting himself up and slamming back down onto that massive twelve-inch cock, taking it to the hilt with every bounce. His pregnant belly swayed with the motion, slick dripping down his thighs as he rode Stiles hard, just as commanded, moaning openly with each deep impalement.

Stiles growled in approval, eyes dark with lust as he watched Derek work himself on his cock. "That's it, good boy—fuck yourself on me. Show me how much this hole needs its alpha."

After several minutes of Derek riding him facing forward, Stiles' hands tightened on those gigantic, fat cheeks, spreading them possessively. "Turn around," he ordered, voice thick with rut-driven hunger. "I want that huge, hairy ass facing me while you take my cock."

Derek didn't hesitate. Still impaled and gasping, he carefully twisted around on Stiles' lap, turning his back to his alpha without letting the thick shaft slip out. The movement made Stiles' cock drag deliciously against his sensitive walls, drawing a broken whine from Derek's throat. Once turned, Derek sank down fully again, his gigantic, fat hairy ass now on full display as he began to ride in reverse—lifting and dropping with deliberate, slutty rolls of his hips, impaling himself over and over on Stiles' fat, throbbing cock.

Stiles groaned loudly at the sight, hands immediately gripping and spanking those massive cheeks hard, watching them jiggle and ripple with every impact. "Fuck, look at you," he praised, voice dripping with possessive awe. "So fucking slutty, bouncing that huge, perfect ass on my cock like you were made for it. So hot, Derek—only for me. This fat, hairy ass is mine, every inch of it. No one else gets to see you like this, spreading and taking me so greedily."

Derek whimpered, looking over his shoulder at Stiles with flushed cheeks and hooded eyes, the praise sending fresh waves of slick gushing around the buried cock. He pushed back harder, grinding down in circles just to hear more, his body trembling with desperation.

Stiles spanked him again and again, alternating cheeks until they glowed red against the dark hair, all while thrusting up to meet him. "That's my omega—ride it harder. Show me you're mine."

Derek reached a whole new level of desperation, face turned to the side, mouth open in silent whimpers and breathy gasps as Stiles slammed home from below. With each thrust into Derek's hole, Stiles' knot started to swell a little more. His rim stretched to accommodate the bulge at the base of Stiles' cock with each drive in and out, hole clenching in a desperate attempt to hang on to it. The noises their bodies made were slick and wet as Stiles slammed in and out, knot tugging at Derek's hole until he slid back in once more with a slick pop. Derek was so hot and tight inside, he moaned as Stiles ground the swell of his knot deep inside him, long eyelashes fluttering against his cheeks.

As his knot swelled that much more, finally orgasming as their bodies completely locked together, cock spurting into Derek's welcoming hold. He filled Derek with cum, wave after wave, the excess leaking out around the knot.

"Stiles," Derek groaned, still grinding back against Stiles as his cock shot off against the swell of his pregnant belly, cum splashing hot against his and Stiles' stomachs. His hole pumped out more slick, leaking around the swell of Stiles' knot.

Even knotted, Stiles wasn't done; his rut demanded more. He maneuvered them carefully onto their sides, spooning Derek from behind, his knot still locked as he ground deeper, filling him again with another load. "Gonna keep you full for days, no one else touches what's mine," he whispered possessively, spanking Derek's ass one more time.

Stiles' body felt electric, the desperate need to dominate, claiming and knot subsiding now that he’s finally where he needed to be, knot tightly locked into the tight clench of Derek's hole. He finally got a good look at his lovely mate now that his senses were no longer blurred with need. Derek looked wrecked. His hair was dishevelled and sweaty around his face, a deep flush high on his cheeks had spread down his chest. He was soaked too, chest sticky with the slick from Stiles' face and the milk from his nipples, tummy soaked with his own cum while his thighs were soaked with slick and cum. He was riddled in love bites too; blotchy red marks covered his inner thigh, chest, and neck, just waiting to turn into a bruise that will take longer to heal. His gigantic, fat hairy ass bore red handprints from Stiles' spanks.

Stiles pressed his nose to Derek's neck again, nudging at the curve of his jaw. "How y’doing love?" He asked, voice hushed now that the raw need had dispersed, though the possessiveness lingered.

"Ngh," Derek grunted, eyes still shut as he shivered out aftershocks.

Stiles rubbed his hand through the wetness on Derek's belly. "You’re so messy," he whispered, tongue flicking out to taste Derek's sweat. He ground his knot in gently, causing Derek to whimper. "So messy inside too, hmm? All slick with my cum." Derek groaned, clenching around Stiles' knot. "My sweet sourwolf."

Stiles gently brought Derek's legs down to wrap around his waist, careful not to tug on Derek's hole. He curled himself over Derek's body, careful not to put any pressure on the swollen curve of Derek's pregnant tummy. He smoothed a protective hand over it. "So not long now,  is it?"

Derek smiled, and shook his head slowly. "No," he replied, bringing one of his own hands to link with Stiles' over his belly. "Can’t wait."

Stiles grinned wide, carefully pressing a kiss to Derek's lips, licking into his mouth when Derek started to kiss back.

"Can’t wait."

Later, after hours of knotting and dozing in the hazy afterglow of Stiles' rut, Derek stirred awake to the most delicious sensation. His body felt heavy and sated, still locked in the warm cocoon of Stiles' arms, but one of his legs was lifted high, carefully supported by Stiles' strong forearm to keep it elevated and comfortable despite the swell of his pregnant belly. Stiles, ever attentive even in the depths of his instinct-driven haze, was already buried face-first between Derek's thighs, going to town on his gaping, cum-filled hole with fervent, sloppy licks. His tongue delved deep, lapping greedily at the mess of slick and multiple loads that leaked steadily from Derek's stretched rim, the obscene wet sounds filling the quiet bedroom as Stiles devoured him like a feast he couldn't get enough of.

Derek groaned softly, his eyes fluttering open as the pleasure built quickly, his body responding instantly to the eager attention. But Stiles wasn't content with just that; sensing Derek's awakening, he shifted seamlessly, trailing his mouth upward to wrap his lips around Derek's thick morning wood. Derek's cock, already hard and throbbing from the stimulation below, slid easily into Stiles' hot, welcoming throat as Stiles sucked with enthusiastic pulls, his cheeks hollowing while his fingers—two, then three—pushed back into Derek's loose, slicked hole, curling and thrusting in perfect rhythm.

The dual assault was overwhelming in the best way. Derek's hips bucked involuntarily, his hands fisting the sheets as he moaned deeply, the pressure coiling tight in his gut. Stiles hummed around his cock, the vibration sending sparks up Derek's spine, his fingers scissoring and stroking that perfect spot inside until Derek couldn't hold back. With a hoarse cry, Derek came hard, spilling down Stiles' throat in thick pulses that Stiles swallowed eagerly, not missing a drop, his own arousal evident in the way his massive cock twitched against the bed, hard and ready once more.

As Derek panted through the aftershocks, Stiles pulled off with a wet pop, licking his lips before crawling up Derek's body, careful not to jostle him too much. His face was flushed, mouth glistening, and he looked suddenly sheepish despite the feral edge still lingering in his eyes. "Der, I'm sorry," he murmured, voice rough from use and emotion. "For earlier, at the station. Punching Parrish like that... I should've controlled it better. My instincts just—jealousy got the best of me, and I let it take over. You deserve better than me making a damn scene."

Derek blinked up at him, a slow, amused grin spreading across his face as he took in the sight: Stiles apologizing so earnestly, but with his mouth still wet and shiny from Derek's release, his hairy chest dripping with a messy mix of their cum from earlier rounds, and his huge cock standing proud and leaking, clearly gearing up for more. It was too ridiculous, too perfectly Stiles, and Derek couldn't help but chuckle, the sound turning into a playful scold. "Oh, shut up, you idiot," he teased lightly, reaching up to cup Stiles' cheek. "You're apologizing right now? Looking like that—like you've been wrecked and are about to wreck me again? It's hilarious. Save the sorrys for when you're not hard as a rock and covered in us."

Stiles huffed a laugh, but before he could retort, Derek moved with surprising agility for his pregnant state. He wrapped his legs around Stiles' waist, locking his ankles at the small of Stiles' back and pulling him closer with deliberate slowness, guiding that throbbing cock down until the head nudged teasingly against his slick, eager hole. Then, with a mischievous glint in his eye, Derek folded himself further—belly carefully accommodated—as he repositioned, draping his legs over Stiles' shoulders, opening himself completely. His hand snaked between them, fingers wrapping around Stiles' massive shaft, stroking once before aligning it perfectly and guiding it in himself, sinking down inch by thick inch with a drawn-out moan.

"Fuck... yes," Derek breathed, eyes half-lidded as he took Stiles deeper, his walls clenching greedily around the familiar stretch. "C'mon, your rut's not over yet, let the talk for later... and I'm just as hungry as you are."