Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/843073.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage, Rape/Non-Con
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Teen_Wolf_(TV)
  Relationship:
      Derek_Hale/Stiles_Stilinski
  Character:
      Derek_Hale, Stiles_Stilinski, Scott_McCall
  Additional Tags:
      Slash, Werewolf_Stiles_Stilinski, Self-Lubrication, Knotting, Mating
      Cycles/In_Heat, Alpha/Beta/Omega_Dynamics, Implied_Mpreg, Mildly_Dubious
      Consent, Implied_Underage, Anal_Sex, Rimming, Pack_Dynamics, Rape, Rape/
      Non-con_References, Implied_or_Off-stage_Rape/Non-con, Rape/Non-con
      Elements, Mind_Rape, Mindfuck, Dubious_Consent, Dubious_Ethics
  Stats:
      Published: 2013-06-14 Words: 1716
****** Breeder ******
by Moit
Summary
     "You're a breeder," Derek says, stalking forward. Despite still
     looking every bit a human, he reeks of wolf. "Breeders only emerge
     when there aren't enough females in the pack to carry on the line.
     It's a biological fail-safe to ensure we won't go extinct."
Notes
     Some implied S3 spoilers are contained herein.
     The tags have been updated to include rape and mindfuck. Tread
     carefully.
     ETA: It has come to my attention that this fic has been posted
     elsewhere without my permission. Please keep in mind that although
     this is fanfiction, it is still my intellectual property, and while
     no money is being made off this work, it is still necessary to
     respect the fact it is mine. If you want to post this elsewhere,
     please contact me to discuss the details.
See the end of the work for more notes
Becoming a werewolf wasn't as glamorous or as exciting as Stiles wanted to
believe. He didn't ask for the bite, either. One of the Alphas from the pack
they fought off kindly bestowed it upon him during their attempt to rescue
Erica and Boyd.
Now the Alphas are gone, taking with them the two missing Hale pack members.
And Stiles is still a werewolf.
The beginning of the end starts one morning when Stiles wakes up to the feeling
of wet sheets. "Not again," he moans, lifting the blankets, expecting to see
cum covering his stomach. What he quickly realizes, however, is that the
wetness seems to be leaking from his ass. He sits up with a start, causing his
body to disgorge more fluid. "What the fuck?" he growls to himself, reaching
down to gather some of it on his fingers. It smells suspiciously like him, but
the consistency is more like gel than semen. Throwing his sheets off, Stiles
gets to his feet, grumbling to himself about werewolves and supernatural
bullshit.
He arrives at school wearing the only pair of briefs he owns with a wad of
toilet paper shoved in the crotch to soak up the ass-gel his body is leaking.
Scott greets him with a smile and a wave that only irritates him.
"We need to talk," Stiles growls, grabbing his best friend by the arm and
dragging him into the nearest bathroom. After ensuring they are alone, he locks
the door. "Is there a reason nobody ever thought it was important to mention
that becoming a werewolf involved a certain degree of . . . leakage?" Stiles
asks, crossing his arms over his chest. His claws threaten to dig into the
muscles of his biceps, but he manages to hold himself in check, and only just.
"Leakage?" Scott is bewildered. "Stiles, what the hell are you talking about?"
The sound of Scott's heartbeat says he's telling the truth, and Stiles'
expression falls. "This is about to get a lot worse," he whines, covering his
face with his hands and sliding to the floor. Werewolf or no, he's still an
angst-riddled seventeen-year-old boy.
"Stiles, what is going on?" Scott asks, squatting down to look his friend in
the eye.
With a huff, Stiles relays the story to him, from waking up
with—something—puddled under him to stuffing his briefs with toilet paper.
Scott, for his part, manages to keep a straight face the entire time. Until he
says, "Should I sneak into the girls' room and buy you a maxi pad?"
With a snarl, Stiles punches Scott, and he makes sure it hurts.
"Kidding!" Scott says, rubbing his arm long enough for the pain to disappear.
"After school, we'll go talk to Derek. I'm sure he knows what's going on."
"And if he doesn't, I'm going to kill him and become the new Alpha," Stiles
grumbles, allowing Scott to help him to his feet.
*
After school, Scott climbs into the Jeep and he and Stiles drive over to
Derek's apartment. Neither one of them talks about Stiles' problem, nor the
fact that he did finally convince Isaac to sneak into the girl's bathroom for
him. The maxi pad feels weird resting under his balls, but at least it's better
than swapping out the toilet paper in his briefs between every class.
Derek answers the door before they can knock. He scents the air deeply and his
eyes flash alpha red for a moment. He squeezes his eyes shut and when he opens
them, the wolf is restrained again. "Get in here," he barks, reaching out and
yanking Stiles into the apartment. To Scott he says, "You need to leave."
"What? Derek, I'm not—"
Derek's eyes flash red again and he opens his mouth to reveal a bit of fang and
a warning growl.
Scott's own eyes go beta. "If you hurt him—"
"I'll only hurt him if he wants me to." Derek slams the door in his face.
"What the hell, Derek?" Stile’s exclaims. He's never made his attraction to the
other werewolf a secret, and Derek's rough treatment isn't new, but normally he
has better control over his wolf than that. He also doesn't usually make Stiles
feel like he wants to roll over and submit.
"You're a breeder," Derek says, stalking forward. Despite still looking every
bit a human, he reeks of wolf. "Breeders only emerge when there aren't enough
females in the pack to carry on the line. It's a biological fail-safe to ensure
we won't go extinct."
"A—a breeder?" Stiles repeats, backing away from Derek slowly, like a
frightened rabbit. His heart is going a hundred miles an hour, and he's sure
Derek can smell the arousal pouring off of him. He can smell Derek's.
"An alpha is completely powerless around a breeder. We can't stop the wolf from
claiming what nature has designated ours."
"Derek, I'm not—"
"Yes, you are," Derek says, pouncing.
Stiles is just fast enough to slip out of Derek's grasp, but the Alpha is on
him a moment later. They tussle until Derek has Stiles held down firmly by the
back of his neck. He rips the boy's jeans and briefs off together, tearing
seams and effectively ruining the clothing. The smell of his lubrication
permeates the apartment like a pungent musk and the beta goes still.
Derek inhales deeply, filling his lungs. He leans down and laps softly at
Stiles' cheek. "Are you going to be good?" he asks in a low growl.
"Yes," Stiles whispers. He's shivering, but it's more excitement than fear. His
wolf has nearly taken him over as well, and he can't do much more than lay
frozen as Derek scents him all over, running fingers tipped with claws over his
skin and down his back.
Derek stops at the crease between Stiles' asscheeks, nosing into the area where
his musk is the strongest. He licks gently once, twice, and then seals his
mouth over the opening and suckslike he's trying to savor every drop of fluid
coming out of Stiles' body.
Stiles doesn't need any prep at all, considering his body has been doing the
work all day. He keens and pushes back against Derek's face. The Alpha grins, a
wolfish baring of teeth, and growls low in his throat against Stiles' skin. The
sound drags an echoing whimper out of the beta. His hole contracts and releases
another stream of fluid. Derek watches as it trails down Stiles' perineum and
over his balls to pearl at the head of his dick. He uses the tip of one claw to
follow the path, earning another full-body shiver from Stiles.
With a grunt, Derek shucks his own jeans. He kneels back down and braces one
hand against the back of Stiles' neck, mostly to hold him in place as he feeds
his dick into the swollen hole. The beta beneath him bucks and thrashes in
pleasure, wolfing out completely as Derek slams home. Stiles' eyes are like
liquid amber as he twists his body to watch Derek.
The alpha allows his own wolf to claw to the surface. He throws back his head
and lets out a howl that shakes the walls of his apartment, but he's too far
gone to care. His knot swells quickly, pushing against the rim of Stile's hole.
He releases the beta's neck to clutch at his hips with both hands, claws
leaving red pinpricks that will heal human-slow, reminding Stiles of his place
in the pack now.
Stiles is panting, little gasping breaths that sound more lupine than human. He
braces his hands against the carpet beneath his face, claws digging in to give
him some measure of purchase against Derek's forceful thrusts.
The alpha's knot pushes finally, finally past Stiles' barely-resistant ring,
tying them together securely. Derek throws his head back and roars again as he
finds release deep inside his beta's body. The alpha comes first, as always.
Stiles finds his own release without the aid of a hand. Derek's dick is filling
every inch of his insides and the pressure compounds in the best orgasm he's
ever felt as he writhes on his Alpha's knot. Satisfied, and full to bursting,
Stiles whimpers softly and tucks his knees under himself in an effort to lay
down as much as possible. Derek follows his movement, draping himself over the
boy like a living blanket.
As they wait, their claws recede. The red of Derek's eyes fades and Stiles'
return to their normal shade of brown. The beta shifts slightly; his body is
beginning to ache in this position, despite the throbbing of his hole from
where Derek is still buried deeply inside of him.
"How much longer?" Stiles asks, and his voice sounds rough, unused, even to his
own ears.
"Thirty, maybe forty minutes," Derek rumbles. He rubs his stubbled cheek
against Stiles' face, sending frissons of pleasure down the beta's spine. "The
longer we lay here, the better our odds of conception." He thrusts shallowly
with his hips a few times, as if to remind Stiles that his dick and his cum are
still buried deep inside of him.
"You're trying to impregnate me?" Stiles whispers harshly, as if the idea has
only just come to him.
"What did you think we were doing?" Derek asks, licking a wet path down Stiles'
neck.
"I think this was just like werewolf heat, or something. You definitely said
breeder. I didn't sign up for this Derek," Stiles babbles. He plants his hands
on the floor and pushes up in an attempt to dislodge Derek, but the Alpha
clamps down tightly on him and forces him back to the floor.
"No."
The word is spoken with such force and finality that Stiles shrinks back to the
floor without argument. "What happens if it doesn't take?" he asks in a small
voice.
"Then we try again. Until it does."
Suddenly, the weight on his back is no longer comforting, nor pleasurable. Not
for the first time, Stiles curses his luck. Derek's dick gives a twitch and his
own begins to fill in response. He could never have guessed that his decision
to go look for a corpse in the woods would result in both he and Scott losing
control over their own bodies.
 
Fin
End Notes
     Special thanks to my ever-loyal beta, Naemi.
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