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Chapter Text

They returned at dawn, laughing and carefree. They had been out hunting last night, patrolling the territory over the last few days. As soon as they walked through the door, they pushed him down on the bed. Derek growled, hungry and needing to prove who the Alpha was. Stiles simply followed. He had gotten strong and confident since he took the bite, turning turn Deaton's offer.

John doesn't know what his life would have looked like had Stiles not chosen to follow Derek. At this point, it didn't matter anymore.

He whines when there's a hand on his neck, pushing him down while the other drags down his trousers, baring his ass and revealing its hidden contents. From Derek's direct approach, it's obvious where this is heading. Werewolves heal fast but John spots evidence of Derek's and Stiles' previous love games on their skins.

With soft, black leather Stiles ties his ankles together. As if he isn't at their mercy anyway. But Stiles also binds his legs, his knees and his wrists with a chuckle, tearing John's shirts and his pants to shreds with a delighted smile before offering up his fingers. John opens his mouth and suckles at them, licking over the claws as he searches for a distraction after Derek throws him on his belly and spreads his ass cheeks wide.

"You are such a good bitch," the Alpha croons and the voice has its effect on John. He's already aroused but escaping the need to please the Alpha has gotten impossible. "Were you waiting for us?"

Derek runs a finger over John's hole, and the thick toy the Sheriff used on himself. He moans around Stiles' fingers, longing for more than teasing touches.

"Yes, Alpha," John moans when Derek drags him off Stiles' fingers long enough to have him answer.

"Good, for today we want you both." Derek drags the toy in and out of his hole. John moans, helpless when it gets removed.

It's not like as if he could do much even if he had free use of his hands. But entirely bound, the difference in power becomes even more evident. And instead of fighting against it, John welcomes being manhandled. He only opens his mouth when Stiles lifts the toy to his lips.

"It smells like you had it inside you all night," Stiles comments with a smirk. "Did you finger yourself open yesterday? I bet you went to sleep with it, keeping it inside you to be ready when we returned home."

John can't speak, so he answers with a nod. It's the casual way his son says it that drives a blush on his face. Stiles easily fucks the dildo in and out of his mouth, opening his pants with one hand. Behind him, Derek drags him upwards, holding his ass into the air for a moment before driving inside.

He bottoms out, spreading John wide with one swift thrust. It takes his sanity every time.

But he has barely any time to catch his breath. Derek's already fucking him, easily lifting him into the air before pulling him back down. John whines around the toy, almost glad he cannot speak. It's good. Derek's big inside him, using him without effort and it's embarrassing how wet John is. He isn't sure how it works but when Derek rearranges them on the bed to make space for Stiles, they all know that it will fit.

They let him moan around the dildo in his mouth when Stiles' fingers join Derek's cock in his ass. The Alpha has him pressed against his chest, soothing any worries John might have. There are fingers teasing his nipples until Stiles is up to four fingers.

Derek has a firm hand on John's neck, pressing his face into his shoulder after he takes the toy out of his mouth.

"Shh, we want to hear you," the Alpha reassures him when John lets out a shy noise as he feels the head of Stiles' cock slowly pushing inside. "You are doing well. Can't you already feel it?"

The Sheriff quivers. They loosened the ties around his ankles but his hands remained bound. Not that he would have a clue what to do with them. But it leaves them free to spread his legs and ass for Stiles. John tells himself it's hypocrisy to want his son, to do unspeakable things with him, with another man, and yet be ashamed to look at him when he gets fucked.

John's glad he doesn't have to answer Derek's question. The Alpha is already big inside him. With Stiles pushing in further, he's robbed speechless.

His thighs clench but there was a strong hand immediately settling on them, keeping him still. John's aware that there's wetness on his stomach. It feels like it's either a lot of precome or maybe he has come already. Still, he's hard. He feels hot with two cocks inside. Helpless because the two wolves can use him however they want.

"Please," the Sheriff lets out with a choked-off groan. He tightens around the impossible feeling of being filled up like this.

He sobs when they begin to move. There are Stiles' steady thrusts, dragging his cock in and out while Derek remains inside, rumbling pleasantly. When Derek starts fucking him as well, the Sheriff loses time. He's not even aware of his own moans anymore. Instead, he lies draped over Derek's chest, sobbing his pleas and moaning when the friction becomes too much.

John's almost used to returning to reality slowly. Whenever Derek and Stiles ambush him, they take his mind to places where he can always remember the details in the haze of pleasure. It's unusual, though, to wake up while they are still curled up around him. Naked as they are, they hardly need a blanket.

His entire body throbs but not painfully though.

His backside is sticky, half-dried and somehow still wet. There's come splattered over his back, over his ass and John's sure it's running down his legs as well. He cannot remember if they came both inside him.

But no doubt, since they opened him up so well, they will repeat the idea of taking him both at the same time.

The Sheriff sighs and lets himself lulled back to sleep. His hole clenches around the two dildos holding him open.

Chapter Text

They like spanking him for several reasons. Dominantly because they are werewolves with superior strength and he is only human.

"It's easy to forget, otherwise, how fragile humans are," Derek tells him at the beginning of their unusual relationship. John thought about protesting but the truth is that he was not against it. In fact, he's almost embarrassingly eager, when Derek drapes him over his lap.

The Alpha's still clothed while John got stripped of his clothing. The air should be cold against his skin but all he feels is the warm hand travelling up and down over his backside. Out of the corner of his eyes, the Sheriff senses Stiles' hot gaze. He squirms. He's not sure if it's the vulnerability or Derek's insistent touches.

The Sheriff has to take a few deep breaths to calm his heart rate.

"Gonna start," Derek announces.

John flexes his frists, bound behind his back as they are, and nods. He keeps his eyes fixed on the ground when Derek's hand comes down a few times. It's light, barely a warning but it's enough to fire up his imagination. Arousal floods his mind and his body easily follows with its reactions.

The slaps remain gentle as Derek continues.

John's groan fills the room.

"He's spreading his legs for more." Stiles' comment comes from somewhere John can't see him.

The next couple of smacks are harder and John tenses. Suddenly, Stiles kneels down in front of him, thumbing a hard nipple with a delicious smirk of a dangerous predator. His grin widens when John whines.

"Don't worry, Dad. Derek's not gonna let me spank for a while yet," Stiles says and buries his hand in his father's hair. His nails are a hint too sharp. "You are in safe hands."

"Entirely correct," Derek rumbles. He picks up the pace, slapping harder until the Sheriff's hips are shifting defenceless. The slaps turn harder, variating in intensity but the blows remain merely taps compared to what an Alpha is capable off.

Derek could go on for a while if only to keep teasing Stiles. The freshly-turned Beta is on edge, prowling around the sofa. It obviously goes to his head, seeing his father moaning and helpless all while his Alpha exercises control he isn't capable of himself.

With a hint of his true voice, Derek whispers into the Sheriff's ear, "Can you feel him watching? Do you want to give it up for me? You can if you want..."

A few more strikes and John arches his back, choking on a broken moan as he comes. Derek shifts the man so he comes all over the floor.

Both wolves listen as the Sheriff's heartbeat thunders, how his breathing fills the room and how he smells ...

It's Stiles who approaches his father. John's hanging in Derek's embrace, his ass has turned into a lovely shade of pink.

"I might be wrong but from what I can sense you haven't had enough yet, Dad," Stiles says. He sends a questioning glance to Derek, ensuring that he deduces the signs to the correct conclusion.

The Alpha nods, rumbling proudly over his quickly learning beta and the trusting human in his arms.

"Yes," the Sheriff rasps and ends up on Derek's lap, clinging to the Alpha's shoulders while Stiles gently slaps his hole until he comes again.

Chapter Text

The Sheriff doesn't know how they reached that point. A part of him wishes to blame his wife. In hindsight, knowing what he knows now, he wonders if she has even been human. He used to entertain the thought that she cheated on him. Stiles had always been a little different, a little off ... so little from John himself. There were traces of him and traces of Claudia, yes. But large parts seemed to be something else.

John accepted that long before Stiles choose to take the Bite.

He has no doubts that Stiles could have been anything he wanted. But for Derek's sake, he had chosen to be a wolf.

'Because Derek lost so much family already,' his son's voice whispered into his ear one night. 'So why shouldn't we become his family? Get so close that there's no separating us anymore?'

He wondered that night if Stiles meant himself.

The night they ended up together naked on the forest floor with Derek proved that Stiles always counted John as part of their family. As part of himself. Maybe a wiser man would have objected but John loved his son too much. There had been too many lonely nights spent with an empty bottle.

It's not like they were harming anybody.

Still, it took time to get used to the arrangement.

The Sheriff fidgets. Derek tightens his arm around his waist and gently nudges his knees further apart. He murmurs encouraging words but nothing can distract from the fact that Stiles has currently two fingers up his father's ass. They are gentle but insisting, taking advantage of Derek's flat palm pressed against John's stomach. It keeps the older man immobile because Stiles' own strength is enough to hold his legs open.

"Does it feel good?" Stiles asks as his fingers prod deeper. He has seen Derek do it often enough.

Tonight, the werewolves decided, they would drop all the pretences. They already crossed too many lines to back away now.

"Stiles, please...," John gasps and tries to close his legs. It doesn't help. Instead, Stiles adds another finger and picks up the pace. He fucks his father deeper, rubbing over the point that has John arching against Derek's chest. "This isn't right. We shouldn't..."

"We have never done anything you didn't want," Derek gently reminds him. He's leaving kisses and hints of teeth on the Sheriff's throat. There's no hint of discomfort, only excitement and anticipation.

Arousal floods the room, and the barest hint of shame, from the Sheriff. Who lets out punched-out little whines with every stab of Stiles' fingers against his prostate.

With red-tinted eyes and the barest hint of his Alpha voice, Derek says, "You want us, don't you?"

Derek moves his hand to touch the Sheriff's weeping dick. Usually, he would show mercy and make him come first. But tonight was about Stiles as well. There's no use in denying the truth.

The Sheriff sobs. He doesn't want to look at his son but that only leads to looking down at himself.

His legs are spread open. His son's fingers are inside him, fucking him in the best way. It leaves him writhing, wanting more and hoping there would be something else, something harder and bigger to stroke his insides.

"If you wouldn't want this, Dad," Stiles whispers and repositions himself until he can rub his own hard shaft over John's ass. The Sheriff is more than ready, throbbingly empty and twitching in Derek's firm grip. Stiles leans closer, "Then why is your hole begging for my cock?"

"Stiles...," The Sheriff moans. Derek had now restricted his wrists and with Stiles holding his legs wide open, there's no denying how his hips are twitching towards the werewolf, his son, above him. "Stiles, please..."

The head of his son's cock nudges against his rim. It's wrong and he shouldn't want this. But the feeling is intense, he's burning and thirsting to have Stiles inside him. Derek's basically offering him, holding him open for Stiles to fuck as he pleases.

And John ... doesn't mind.

His chin drops to his chest. He whispers, desperate and ashamed that he needs to have Stiles inside him, "Fuck me. Please fuck me hard and come inside me, Stiles."

Behind him, Derek rumbles deeply. As a reward, he drags John's knees up and folds the human nearly in half when Stiles begins to take his father. He uses hard thrusts, rocking deep into the tight human ass which sight has been teasing him in the last months. For so long, he watched his Alpha cream John's thighs, cream his hole until it dripped with Derek's seed.

Stiles needs to remind his father that they belong together.

John shakes and cries, half-shocked at how hard he's getting fucked. But he isn't surprised. They waited too long. At some point, their relationship shifted and John could not deny Stiles anything he wanted.

Chapter Text

This was new.

Usually, they preferred to wring as many orgasms out of him as possible. John long stopped wondering how they managed to make him come more than two times per night. A vague answer hinted at the pack bonds, the supernatural forces he's daily involved with and Derek being an Alpha. Whatever the last one means. But John learned to live with the fact that Derek can make him come whenever he wants. His body never failed to answer when his Alpha teased him. There are worse things to deal with, really.

"Why?" he pants. His hands are unbound, free to grasp the pillow beneath his head.

Above him, Stiles smirks and rocks his hips in a really frustrating manner. The movement leaves John gasping, riding on a high he doesn't understand. His skin feels too tight. There's an itch he's not allowed to scratch. Even the thought of reaching down to relieve himself is useless.

Stiles laughs at him, reading his thoughts.

"Why not? Doesn't it feel good?" His son asks. Stiles runs a hand over John's trembling thigh.

The Sheriff bears it, keening. He guesses that this might as well as one of Stiles' wimps Derek sometimes chooses to go along with.

The Alpha lies next to him on the big bed, naked and content to watch how Stiles drives John insane. He's carefully not touching the older man, waiting like a predator to catch his prey. Knowing that his time will come, and soon.

"As much as we like it to cream your body with the evidence of your acceptance of our nature, tonight we thought to simply play it into the other direction," Derek says. He reaches out to run a finger over John's chest. He plays with the hard, sensitive nipples, purring at the sounds he receives in return.

Derek presses a kiss on his cheek, aware of the fact of how hard Stiles is fucking his father right now. John's moaning, his chest heaves in the attempt to deal with the pleasure cruising through his body. Everything becomes white and soft as his focus narrows down to the part where Stiles is inside him.

"Please," the Sheriff keens and angles his head to look at Derek. It's not Stiles' permission he needs. Stiles hasn't touched John's cock all evening. He wouldn't go against Derek's orders. Sometimes he envies and curses how effortless Derek handles Stiles. It's unfair, so unfair that ...

The Sheriff sobs when his son readjusts their position. Suddenly, the cock inside his ass feels huge but Stiles only chuckles and thrusts deeper, drawing more helpless gasps from his father's mouth.

"Please, Alpha," the Sheriff tries again.

Red eyes study him. There's need and desire written into Derek's face. The werewolf is so close that John burns with the heat he emits. But Derek only kisses him, licks over John's neck and shakes his head.

"Stiles will fuck you until you don't know your own name anymore. Then he will draw out of you and come all over you. Maybe I will make you even kneel and let you beg to be marked like that," Derek murmurs. The dark tone in his voice and the red glowing eyes suggest that there will be no disobeying, from other of the Stilinskis.

It's surprising that Stiles easily follows the order, nodding and not even thinking about going off course on his own.

It's who John protests, quivering at the thought but imagining it at the same time.

"But ... but ... when I get to...?" John cries in time with Stiles' thrusts.

He doesn't want to. But he will. If Derek orders it, he will kneel on the ground on letting himself be marked. Only that Derek never said anything about John coming as well.

"Later," Derek whispers and one of his hands travels down to John's ass, kneading it. "You get to come later. "

Stiles takes Derek making a move on his father as a sign to draw out. It takes effort for the young werewolf. His cock strains and twitches, weeping at the head. But his own discomfort is nothing compared to John's begging when Derek lifts him up and makes him present his chest and his crotch to Stiles.

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They figure out early that the Sheriff likes a bit of humiliation. He always comes harder when he's feeling embarrassed when they are using him as they see fit.

"That's how he copes with the knowledge about the supernatural," Derek once shrugged nonchalantly when Stiles asked him. "As a Sheriff, he feels responsible for Beacon Hills but not every human is made to have their worldview questioned to such a fundamental level."

So sex and embarrassment are how John copes with the cases Derek and Stiles discuss on the kitchen table. Often enough, it's so far outside the law, there's nothing the Sheriff could do. They tend to leave him out of it. But it always sets John on edge, knowing that there's a body, a murderer or more blood on the pack's hands.

He never likes to see them leave.

The pack is strong but they often fall back on Derek and Stiles. Who were armed with nothing but claws, fangs and wits. Of course, they possess powers the Sheriff will never understand. There are beasts beneath their skin, waiting and patience. But humans are cruel and he fears losing them.

His stomach quivers when they return. They headed out hours ago and the sun set over the horizon, leaving John with nothing to distract himself with. Their silhouettes against the moonlight feel like a relief, regardless of how they don't bother to put the fangs and claws away.

Derek cards his fingers through John's hair. It's affectionate but a glint in the red eyes sends a shiver down his spine.

"I think you should suck my cock while Stiles makes dinner," Derek says. He doesn't even phrase it as an order. All he needs to do is tug John down and take his cock out.

A flush spreads over John's face. They generally keep the sex in the bedroom. A part of him resists doing it here where they eat every day but he's already opening his mouth to suckle at Derek's impressive length. He angles his body forwards, braced on the Alpha's muscular thighs. It's uncomfortable, kneeling on the ground but above him, Derek groans softly as John runs his tongue over the tip.

He's not sure how spends his time on the floor. Stiles rummages through the kitchen, needing to keep busy while the Sheriff lost his shirt a while ago. Derek kept him on his cock, let it simply rest in the Sheriff's mouth until the man was keen on the idea of getting relief.

When Stiles sets the plates, only for him and Derek because John can't eat lunch at two am in the morning, Derek drags him off his cock. Through John's panting, he says with a hand still buried in his hair, "Crawl to the bedroom and get your toys. We will make use of you will we eat."

John would like nothing more than hide his face. He burns with embarrassment but instead of having mercy on him, there's a hand pulling down his sweatpants. Lowering his head, he allows Stiles to take off his pants.

"What toys am I supposed to bring?" He asks with a shaking tone in his voice.

His cock is rock-hard though. His thoughts run through the possibilities and what they might do with him over dinner. With a jolt, the Sheriff realizes that maybe he won't be allowed to sit at the table.

"We have lube in the kitchen," Stiles says and runs a finger over the Sheriff's lips, swiping the last trace of Derek's sperm away. "Take the blue toy and the leather cuffs for hands and feet."

Sharp need rushes through the Sheriff. The plug and dildos he can live with. They are used to opening him up before two werewolves descend on him. The rest indicates that this will take longer.

With a shy nod, unsure how they will react if he protests at this point, the Sheriff crawls forward. The way to their bedroom isn't long but it's humiliating. He feels the weight of their gaze on his exposed back. He returns with the blue toy in his mouth, having no other means to carry it.

He presents it to Derk who takes the toy from him and says, "Good. Now the cuffs. Hurry up."

John retreats with a bright flush on his face. It takes him three trips in total to get everything because Derek orders him to bring a gag too.

They are already sitting on the table when he returns and John's ready to vibrate out of his skin. He would rather have it that they bend him over the nearest surface or fuck him naked on the forest floor. This, being so exposed and still obviously eager, twists his sense of self into something sinful.

The possibilities of what they could do with him next are overwhelming. The worst moment is the point where he has to wait, silent because of the gag he carries in his mouth. It's a relief when Derek fastens it around his head.

"Make yourself comfortable," Derek orders and points at the chair. "Keep your hands above the table and wait a moment."

The Sheriff follows but it's trail to endure the minutes where he can do nothing. He cannot speak and the toys are waiting to be used on him in the middle of the table. At least, he's too distracted to remember their conversation. He doesn't need to know what happened out there tonight.

When Derek finishes his first plate, he finally stands up. He rearranges the chair John sits on so they can both fully see while they continue eating. John moans around the gag when his feet are thrown over the armrests, exposing his midsection to Stiles' hungry eyes.

It's also intentional that Derek ties him up first before he destroys the Sheriff's boxers with his claws. He throws the shreds into the bin before sitting down again. He goes back to eating like has all the time in the world.

"You can open him up next," Derek says while chewing. He studies John, probably planning how the night will proceed. "He can sit on the vibe until we have cleaned up."

The Sheriff groans. He's naked, the night outside creates a strange atmosphere in the chilly kitchen but he feels hot and sweaty nonetheless. His cock lies hard against his stomach. His hole twitches at the first touch of Stiles' lubed-up but very cold fingers.

He can't escape when they enter his ass, dipping past the rim with a confidence that has him straining against the bonds. Stiles knows how to take him apart, he's better at it than Derek. His son has more patience. He's also a touch crueller and always knows how to use his fingers to make his father quiver.

"Shh, I can still get us some rope if you don't hold still," Stiles threatens. He pulls out his fingers. They glisten with lube.

The Sheriff swallows around the gag but does his best. His toes curl when Stiles rubs the tip of the toy over his puckered entrance.

He catches Stiles looking. It's mortifying how his rim clenches only harder because of it, only to find nothing because his son pulls the toy away just in time. A hand on his hips props his ass forwards so there's nothing to push against but the solid toy Stiles presses inside. The Sheriff squirms in his position, feeling the blunt head dragging past his entrance.

"See, it's not that hard," Stiles says and steps back.

John's heart thunders against his chest. Sweat runs down his skin. As much as he wants to, he cannot escape how Derek and Stiles look at him. He almost feels the exact moment when his Alpha is finished inspecting him, for Derek casts his eyes down to the Sheriff's ass.

His hole flutters around the big intrusion. The blue vibrator reaches deep.

The Sheriff feels flustered, and jittery because he has no idea what will happen next. He prefers it when they simply use him. When he gets the feeling that he can be useful, gift them with some warmth and humanity. Left alone, John fears Derek and Stiles would disappear inside a dark, grey world full of blood. He doesn't mind being their reminder that there's more to life than fighting for survival.

Being watched, though. Being teased and ordered around until he slips into docile deference ...

"Hmpf..." The Sheriff's thoughts trail off when the toy comes to life.

It's not much yet, only a hint of what's possible. But the Sheriff knows the toy, they have used it on him before.

"Don't fear, we will pay attention to you as soon as we are done. For now, you have to wait," Derek promises and ranks up the setting.

The buzz sounds loud through the otherwise silent kitchen.

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It's true that they passed several limits a while ago. When he has a quiet minute at work, when he's sitting in his police car and eating his lunch, John reflects on all the stuff he willingly participates in. Instead of feeling disgusted or feeling uneasy about looking them in the face in the evening, he's always hit with a wave of arousal.

Right at the beginning, before they moved into the Hale House, he panicked about what it meant that he likes it being fucked hard by a younger man.

John had always come to the realization that it doesn't matter as long as he's comfortable with his choices.

No matter what Stiles and Derek suggest, he can always say no or back out. He has, occasionally, and they never protested. Sometimes, they even sleep in different bedrooms. No one ever blinks an eye when John asks for some space.

What's actually the hardest part is directly asking for the things he wants.

His face is red and John's trying not to look at them. From the corner of his eyes, Stiles attempts to control his reaction. He tries to fight down his excitement. Derek has more practice and feels so much calmer about it.

John stares at his hands. It's dirty, his suggestion. Maybe even demeaning. But he wants it.

"Are you sure you wish to do this?" Derek asks, reaffirming John's choices.

"I trust you," John nods. His neck feels warm, his mind is flooded with ideas and images. "I will also not hold it against you if there's anything I do not feel comfortable with afterwards."

It's a possibility and it's better to talk about it beforehand. The truth is, though, ... the Sheriff feels nothing but low-burning want. He likes the idea and what it means. They already have done things, regularly, he would never speak outside the bedroom. This feels easy in comparison.

They agreed beforehand that they would let John know when they would begin. The Sheriff needed time to settle into a routine again, calming in his nerves a little. So it's actually two weeks later when Stiles is running patrol with Scott that Derek enters the Sheriff's bedroom. It's late at night and one little pause confirms that the Sheriff is asleep.

It's not necessary to turn on the light. His eyes are good enough and they easily spot that the Sheriff is only wearing boxers and a T-shirt. The bed dips when Derek climbs on the mattress, kneeling over the passed-out Sheriff who conveniently lies on his back.

"I will do my best to fulfil your fantasies, John," Derek whispers and gets to work.

He uses his heightened senses to undress the Sheriff, teasing him with his mouth and his fingers and always stopping when he threatens to wake. It's a bit tricky when he gets to the part to open him up for his cock. The Sheriff is human and always needs more prep than Stiles.

Derek inhales sharply when he discovers lube between John's legs.

"So, you have been waiting for this, hm?" Derek murmurs. He also finds a plug nestled between the cheeks.

It will make the following aspect much easier.

In the next morning, John wakes up sticky and sore. He looks down at himself and finds a suspicious amount of come on his body. From himself and more dripping out of his hole. With a groan, he realizes what happened. There are bite marks on his neck and walking to the bathroom proves difficult. His knees feel like jelly.

The mirror suggests whoever visited him last night, thoroughly used him.

John wonders what he should do now. Should he shower and pretend nothing happened last night?

But arousal overwhelms him at the thought of simply walking downstairs with semen clinging to his body, marks half-hidden beneath his shirt. The Sheriff imagines their reactions. Derek would look pleased and Stiles ... would take this as an invitation.

His nipples pucker slightly, sore and sensitive when he puts on an old T-shirt.

In the end, John cleans himself up a little, hoping that he will get to drink his coffee in peace before they ravish him again.

Chapter Text

The Sheriff was absolutely plaint when Derek moves him to the bed and ties him up. His ass stings from the paddle and the blindfold robbed him of his sight a while ago. His neck sprouts red marks from careful bites and his hips have probably dark hand-shaped bruises already. His body feels heavy from the last orgasm. The werewolf manhandles him around but the Sheriff reached a point where he simply lets the emotions wash over him.

Derek can't seem to keep his hands off him. They trail down the Sheriff's body while a muscled chest presses against his back.

"I can't go again," the Sheriff mumbles. He feels like he has been drugged. There's a haze of pleasure, a sting of pain because it's too much, but his two lovers don't let up.

They enjoy it when he's vulnerable.

Available.

The Sheriff feels like that he shouldn't want it but instead of a protest a moan leaves his mouth when two hands tweak his nipples. They are red and sensitive, the mouth that sucks on them leading to the Sheriff crying out.

His soft cock throbs with a valiant effort the get hard again.

"This is such a nice view," Derek grumbles behind him. The Alpha is close, growling like an animal.

In the darkness behind the blindfold the Sheriff imagines a beast. He moans in agreement his legs are pulled wide open, unsure who is holding the height. It feels like he's floating and yet still showing the Alpha what he wants.

"Such a sweet hole," the Alpha says. The Sheriff's heart speeds up. He can't do anything, helpless in their arms but the praise goes straight to his cock. Bliss washes over him when Derek fucks him with his thick fingers. "You have taken us already. Our come still warm, dripping out of you and yet you clench like you still want more."

"Yes..." He gives an experimental thrust with his hips and is rewarded by the thick cock in his ass.

No matter how often, the first time always takes his breath away. With the blindfold and his bound arms, Derek's even bigger. He also settles as he belongs there, rolling his hips to make the Sheriff writhe and moan. But this time, he held the Sheriff over the edge. Beneath him, the man strained to gain some friction but compared to an Alpha he's nothing but a plaything in his arms.

Derek licks over the Sheriff's neck. "Wet and warm around my dick. You just can't stop squeezing. I wanted to go easy on you but it seems you need more, don't you?"

A particular hard trust makes the Sheriff scream only to sob in frustration when Derek stops moving.

"Please, yes." The Sheriff would have pushed himself on Derek's cock if he had been able to. But he was tied up and held and not going anywhere.

Derek held that position and fucks the Sheriff merciless. Only to stop, right when the human was close to coming untouched. A few more times and the Sheriff had tears streaming down his cheek.

"Derek, ah, I'm ... close."

The tight wet warmth around his cock, the minute and constant squeezing might be the best thing that ever happened to Derek. He's ready to draw this out, to show the human who commanded Beacon Hills in the night. Stiles is still watching. His eyes are dark and intense, torn between offering himself to Derek, doing the same to his father and finding a way to join them.

The Alpha motions for Stiles to come closer. He needs to reward his Beta. Especially, because patience isn't Stiles' strongest virtue.

"You can have his mouth," Derek says.

He loosens the ties around John's wrist who eagerly opens his mouth, long before Stiles is in position. Stiles groans when he finally gets to enjoy the warmth enfolding around his cock.

"This is so good," Stiles pants. His hands land on the Sheriff's head as he arches his back. He starts rocking into his father's mouth, carefully because he waits for Derek to resume his thrusting.

The Sheriff ends up on all fours. He remains blindfolded as Derek and Stiles fuck him, taking him from both sides. He jerks, eager and unashamed, his cock painfully throbbing between his legs. The Alpha behind him plunges deep with every thrust, ready to bury his cock in the Sheriff and seeming never want to leave again. Meanwhile, the Sheriff moans around the cock in his mouth, suckling whenever he can.

He cannot even beg anymore. There's only a silent plea to come but it gets lost in between getting stretched and used

The Sheriff hungers, greedy to take and take. He doesn't even care about coming anymore. When his son lets him come up for a breath, Derek's thrust turns so intense and forceful that he could fall apart from that alone.

Only when the Sheriff finally feels a warm, hot fluid filling him, when he feels Derek's possessive grip as the stills and frantic tremble as he empties himself in his ass, he gets the sense that he's finally allowed to find release.

The Sheriff comes when Derek pulls out, shooting all over the bed.

Come's still leaking out of him, when Stiles finishes as well, running his hands through his father's hair and murmuring praises about how good he has been.

Chapter Text

There are times when Derek feels really big. The Sheriff is currently seated on top of him, slowly raising his hips to ride the Alpha. It's a slow process, Derek keeps his hips firmly in his hands, not letting him set the pace. It doesn't help that Derek turned him around, forcing the Sheriff to display his ass.

"It's ... it's so big, Derek," the Sheriff pants. He's happy that Stiles isn't here to witness his shameful whining. "I feel so full."

His own hands have settled on his thighs. He doesn't know what to do with them otherwise.

"Don't worry," Derek murmurs. He keeps surprisingly still for someone who had his cock teased with a wet hole for while yet. "Take your time, I don't want you to get hurt."

John lowers himself, inch per inch. They haven't done this often and never like this. The last times happened in the spur of the moment, a rough celebration of having survived. Derek had also always been in control of how far he could push inside.

"Oh," the Sheriff moans low when he's finally done. He arches his back, trying a way to seat himself properly, but ... "It's so much. Alpha, I ..."

Derek rumbles, trying to soothe the human above him. John's tight around his tight, squeezing it nicely. He reaches forwards and digs his thumbs into the ass, pulling the cheeks apart. It's a fine view, that little hole snug around his cock. It feels different the Sheriff does it. He doesn't have the pain tolerance of a werewolf or the fast healing.

But now the Sheriff is actually starting to move. He's only rocking his hips a little, moving in circles because the head of the Alpha's cock presses perfectly against his prostate.

"Go slow," Derek instructs and lifts the Sheriff up. With his superhuman strength, it's easy. The Sheriff sinks back down, moaning as his chin falls onto his chest. "Ride me, feel how big my cock is. You need to get used to it."

The Sheriff keens. This is not the first time and he will never get used to it. He can't, not when Derek's presence makes him feel so small.

Chapter Text

Neither of the werewolves needed actual restraints to hold the Sheriff down. While he was older, more experienced and bigger than his son, the werewolves were able to easily keep him still with one hand if they desired it. With one light touch on his back, Sheriff can't get up.

It's frightening, especially when he has the opportunity to witness that strength in action.

With Derek, the Sheriff doesn't mind. He has always known him to be faster and stronger. Stiles' change is a recent development.

So request for restraints comes from the Sheriff himself.

"You want us to tie you down?" Derek raises an eyebrow. He looks like he doesn't understand the need for it.

Of course not, ropes and cuffs are something he probably associates with imprisonment and dark family history.

But the Sheriff nods. He bites down on his lips, unsure how to translate that he finds it hot. It's not just the need for a safety net as long as Stiles isn't quite in control. His son is always a little too eager, always had been.

"I wouldn't mind testing it out," Stiles says. He gets an interesting look and his mind is probably running through implements.

The younger wolf looks like about to get up and search the attic for some rope but Derek stops him by swatting him in the stomach. It's nothing but a tap but it's enough to derail Stiles' mind from following through with the idea. The Sheriff watches how his son growls playfully. Derek answers in kind, stealing a kiss and then another one until Stiles is grinning, breathless but happy.

"Let's see what we can do," Derek decides. "But I'm going to decide what kind of restriction we use."

Stiles scoffs but he knows that Derek has learned to be careful. Life hasn't been kind to him and the last thing the Alpha wants is to hurt the Sheriff. So, they put the idea off for the evening and spend it with Stiles lying on his stomach, rolling against Derek's dick inside him and purring over how long it takes the Alpha to come.

His father's gaze is far away, hazy and yet never takes his eyes off them.

It's a nice show and proof that Derek doesn't need anything to keep Stiles in check. The animalistic side runs a little wild sometimes. Where his human brain has learned how to pace itself, and how to think rational, the wolf inside Stiles' soul is young.

Young, restless and often a little bloodthirsty.

When Derek leaves Stiles breathing hard and panting after his orgasm, he moves on to his father. They don't need to communicate with words for Stiles to understand that he doesn't get to fuck John today.

It wouldn't surprise Stiles if Derek throws him out to have him patrol the territory with Peter until he can think straight again.

"Can we do it today?" Stiles hears his father whine.

Derek's rumble makes the Sheriff quiver, pleasure and fear causing his neglected dick to twitch. Stiles rolls onto his side, content to watch.

"I don't think you have the patience for it," Derek says and runs a clawed finger over the Sheriff's dick. "You are already so close. Maybe, if we let you come first."

Stiles listens to how Derek coaxes John towards his orgasm. He doesn't fuck him. He only uses two fingers and his tongue, teasing the Sheriff and bringing him to the edge more than once. It takes almost half an hour until the Sheriff comes, moaning and arching his back while Derek easily holds him down with his free hand.

The Sheriff lies on his back, legs spread and heaving as shivers run down his body.

"You still feel up for it?" Derek asks. He looks down on the human that shares their bed.

The Sheriff remains calm, open ... and trusting.

Unlike his father, Stiles senses how the Alpha roars in Derek's head, now interested to see his human bitch further under his control. Maybe it's the knowledge that the Sheriff smells eager and offers a situation where he can't get away.

"Yes," the Sheriff slurs. "Just give me a few minutes."

They end up testing a few variations, much to the Sheriff's frustration. Stiles orders handcuffs and rope, so his father ends up tied up in the living room. Only, he spends the first time entirely clothed and the ropes get wrapped over his shirt and sweatpants.

It doesn't stop his father from coming in his pants when Derek rubs the obvious bulge, enjoying how the Sheriff has to lean against him in order not to fall over.

Another time, the Sheriff gets tied to a chair. He cries when the two wolves finally decide to rip a hole into his boxers, only to tease him for another hour with their fingers.

"Well, that was certainly a good idea," Derek says as he pulls his fingers out of the Sheriff's hole. He already missed its warmth but the knowledge it's hidden under a thin, now ruined fabric eases the misfortune of not being able to see it.

"Please fuck me," the Sheriff moans. His legs stiffen for a moment since hasn't finished coming. "Please fuck me now."

Stiles plasters himself over the chair his father is tied to. He reaches down to tease the perky nipples, laughing when John arches his back but doesn't get very far. "Easy now. We have time. Tying you up is fun and we can always fuck you later."

"Stiles is right," Derek says.

He gets up from his kneeling position and wraps one hand around the Sheriff's neck. He drags the older man's head down to his cock, and guides the Sheriff until the soft lips open up to take him into his mouth. He starts fucking him slowly. In his position, the Sheriff doesn't get very far but from the scents, the Alpha picks up that's exactly what this is about.

"Don't forget that I know you will always get hard for us, no matter how often we make you come."

The Sheriff whines, moaning around Derek's cock. He closes his eyes and lets himself be dragged back and forth.

Chapter Text

There are days when the wolves need to ensure that everything runs according to plan. It's natural to have a pecking order in the pack and while the Sheriff is a little exempt from that, the need for dominance and reactive submission comes up in other ways. The pack gets thrown around in training but they work hard for Derek's approval. The grumbling at Derek's orders and worldviews stopped a long time ago. At some point, even Jackson learned that there was a reason for those rules and that Derek had earned his right to call the shots.

The pack had to live with bites and claw marks, a reminder from their Alpha that they weren't invulnerable but those bruises healed after a few days.

The Sheriff showed his deference in other ways. Had to, sometimes.

"You know you were bad," Derek murmurs, tipping John's chin up to look at him. "We respect your opinion but some of your human views are unnecessary at pack meetings."

The older man nods, leaning back to open up for Derek. He says, knowing that it won't help him at this point, "I'm sorry, Derek."

"It's okay. You are simply worried. I appreciate your concerns." Derek stands between the Sheriff's knees, having pushed him onto the edge of the bed. "It's just I can't have you unsettle my betas. They don't get the nuances you tried to teach them tonight."

Derek's fingers trail over soft lips and the Sheriff's tongue darts out to lap at them.

"You understand that you have to be punished, right? Why do I need this from you?" The Alpha says and leans down as Sheriff moans, breathing hard and fast around the fingertips in his mouth.

His voice is dark and full of promise. Derek's eyes gleamed red in the low light of the dim bedroom and the Sheriff hesitates. He was just about to slip one hand into his underwear but Derek's gaze follows him. The Sheriff moans, protesting low when he realizes that he isn't allowed to further without permission.

The fingers slip out of his mouth and trail down his chest. He can't help himself but lean into the touch as a claw carefully presses against his right nipple. The claws are sharp enough that they easily tear through the shirt.

"How do you want me?" The Sheriff asks submissively after he removed the remnants of his clothing and Derek's eyes darken.

The Sheriff is now naked except for his boxers. Those won't stay on for long.

"Get on the bed and lay down on your back," Derek orders. He waits until the human has settled, waiting next to the bed before adding, "Put your hands over your head. Yes, like that. And now spread those legs. Stiles will be back any minute and I want you to show him what kind of slut you are."

The words are enough to make the Sheriff gasp for breath. They weigh him down, immobilize him and he moves into the requested position without Derek having to lift a finger. The Alpha is actually very careful not to touch him when he searches for the cuffs and the rope to tie the Sheriff to the bed.

The Sheriff whines when Derek is done and steps back to watch his work. The rope actually reaches under the bed and holds the Sheriff down at his ankles as well. It's definitely a nice view, having the man stretched on the bed, waiting to be disciplined.

Stiles thinks the same when he comes through the door, carrying the fresh scent of the forest with him and a burst of the chilly night air. He watches his father shiver when the breeze hits his body.

"Oh, that's nice." Stiles' eyes rake over his father's naked form. Turning to his Alpha, he asks, "What will you do to him tonight?"

"He needs to be punished for talking back at the meeting," Derek says with a low growl in his voice. "And I want to start with gagging him. I think our ruined boxers will do just nicely."

The Sheriff moans, unable to move and knowing that watching Derek and Stiles kiss and grope each other in front of him is just the beginning. He strains against the leather cuffs but Derek bound him well. There's barely room to wiggle. So, he has to watch as the two wolves tease each other. Gently, lovingly and with great care, all those touches they usually bestow on him as well.

Tonight, the Sheriff barely dares to make a sound. He shakes in anticipation when his lovers rub against each other, moaning through their orgasms before Derek scoops up their ruined underwear.

"Open your mouth," Derek tabs against the Sheriff's cheek.

The human whimpers when the Alpha gently works the stained boxers into his mouth, letting the gag settle. Derek waits for a moment and takes a deep breath when the Sheriff's eyes suddenly blow wide, tasting the come of his son and of his Alpha.

The Sheriff keens around the gag when Derek's large hands scratch the soft skin on his inner thighs.

"Time to punish the naughty human," Derek says and can't resist a grin as Stiles drops a pile of toys on the bed. "Let us start with this: You stay here, on this bed, and we put some toys inside that hole of yours while Stiles and I watch the game."

The panicked expression is enough for Stiles to get interested again. Derek's aware he will have to keep him in check for most of the evening but that's hardly new to him. To ease his greed, Derek lets Stiles lube the first toy.

The oil drizzles on the length. Derek follows the Sheriff's eyes, how he tries to get a look at what they will use on him but Stiles keeps it carefully out of his view.

"Aren't you glad that I instructed you to open up yourself earlier?" Derek whispers as he reaches between the Sheriff's legs. When he looks him in the eyes, they both remember how the Alpha made the older man kneel on the floor of the living room as soon as the pack left.

Derek had ordered the Sheriff to ride his own fingers, hand stuffed into the back of his pants until he was crying and writhing on four of them.

The Sheriff nods, shaking as the toy is pushed inside, inch by aching inch. It's perfectly curved to press against the Sheriff's sensitive spot. The full length doesn't quite reach Derek's own size but the Sheriff's nervousness makes him hypersensitive.

"In the first hour, you can come as many times as you want," Derek says after checking that the human cannot press the toy out again. The Sheriff's already moaning, trying to fuck himself on the shaft and filling him out. "You don't need to hold back. Scream as much as you want for us, alright?"

With these words, Derek untangles himself from the Sheriff. He squeezes his hard leaking shaft exactly once before stepping back.

Next to him, Stiles breathes deeply into his stomach, attempting to keep his excitement in check.

"He looks good," Derek says and hands Stiles the remote. "Have fun with him while I get us some food."

Derek's already out of the room but his superior hearing picks up the moment when Stiles activates the vibrator. The effect has to be immediate. There's the Sheriff's muffled scream, the smell of arousal as the toy starts to pulse softly and the faint scent of sweat and pre-come.

When Derek gets back with snacks and two beers, the TV already runs the channel which plays the game, starting in about twenty minutes or so. The volume is on but pretty low. Either to protect their hearing or because Stiles doesn't want to miss his father's moans.

Derek glances to his left, admiring his work. The Sheriff lies stretched out on the bed. His eyes are squeezed shut while he moans around the gag. Sitting down, Derek discovers that the Sheriff's legs are spread so wide and at the perfect angle that they not only can watch the game but also how the tight little hole clenches and unclenches as the toy does its work.

When the game starts and Stiles calms finally down. He drapes himself over Derek's lap, getting boneless and comfortable as the commentators rattle down the line-up and possible gaming strategies.

Half across the room, the Sheriff trembles in his restraints. His movements are limited. He can only endure how the toy teases his tightly stretched hole, inciting him towards his first orgasm. As the game kicks off, Stiles presses another button. His eyes are fixed on the screen but both werewolves listen as the rhythm changes. Waves start in an unrelenting pattern, building pressure before stopping and then repeating the cycle.

The deep hard vibrations have the Sheriff bucking up in desperation after a few minutes. High-pitched noises drag through the room, muffled by the gag and the constant chattering of the commentator.

Derek's already hard again and Stiles fights the same problem. Neither reacts, though, when the Sheriff begins to lose the control he tried to hold onto. But the constant stimulation proves to be too much and when he's approaching the edge again, Stiles cranks the button to the highest setting. His expression remains casual and maybe he really follows the game.

As Alpha, Derek can't entirely ignore how the Sheriff screams for the first time. He bucks wildly into the air, his hips jerking violently. With a sharp inhale, Derek watches with fascination how the Sheriff's hole spams. How clenches at the vibrator filling him, punishing rigorously while his cock spurts white ropes all over his chest.

With a single, soft noise from Derek, Stiles takes mercy on his father and dials down the vibrations.

Too low for the Sheriff to hear, Derek asks, "Want to push him through another one before we move on?"

Stiles hums, grinning happily.

Derek feels just as content, satisfied with the Sheriff's willing submission. The man knew beforehand how hard the Alpha can push him but it is hardly the first time they establish a pecking order inside the bedroom.

"Your turn," Stiles says and hands Derek the remote.

Like so many other times, they do not need to communicate with spoken words. Derek smells Stiles' hesitance, and feels how he tenses against him for a moment. He's unsure how far he can push his father, so he rather puts the task into Derek's hand. It's an admission of how deeply Stiles trusts him. There's little more than Stiles fear than hurting his father.

Derek presses a kiss on Stiles' neck, reassuring him that he will be careful. That he's conscious of the responsibility Stiles puts into his hands. Then he turns the remote back on and the Sheriff's loose, fucked-out body trembles. He mindlessly fucks the air as the vibrations start up again.

His punishment lasted through the entire game. He long stopped asking where the stamina come from. In the haze of pleasure, it long stopped being important. During the second orgasm, the Sheriff spit out the gag, screaming as the toy rubbed over his insides until he was ready to crawl out of his skin.

He knows that asking them to stop would be futile but it's a relief that the two wolves are starting to pay attention to him again. Not that made the proceedings any easier. They descended upon him during a commercial break. They touched his entire body, cleaned the evidence from his skin and kisses him senselessly so he didn't notice how they switched out the toy.

The Sheriff doesn't know what the new one looks like either. It's not even that big. It's only a plug but it's heavy at the base, stretching him well and it jostles against his sensitive walls.

"Ungh," the Sheriff calls out when he feels the vibrations return.

The cuffs are unforgiven, not yielding a single inch and the Sheriff shakes violently. It's nearly too much but the pressure in his stomach is building again.

He calls out when the buzzing stops suddenly. The vibrations die down and the Sheriff hears a commotion from the other side of the room.

"Close your eyes," he receives the order from his Alpha and the Sheriff doesn't even think about disobeying.

Darkness engulfs him. Anticipation heightens his senses. He dangles on the edge as a pair of hands wrap a blindfold over his eyes, robbing him of his view. The hands pat his head and the Sheriff hears Derek says, "I will leave the gag for now. You are allowed to moan and scream. You can even beg but I don't want to hear a single complaint."

"Y-yes, Alpha," the Sheriff answers. The small pause allows him to cool down a little but his cock remains painfully hard.

"Good. Since you have been good, we will rearrange you a little. If you follow my orders and accept your punishment, you will join us on the couch before the game is out, alright?"

The Sheriff agrees reluctantly, unsure of what's about to happen next. He's glad that Derek loosens the rope and gently prods him into another position.

It takes a moment for the Sheriff to grasp that he's now bending over the bed. His ass dangles over the edge while his cock hangs between his legs. Which have been secured to the bed posts, nudged apart as far as his flexibility allows. Under the blindfold, he turns red with embarrassment as Derek ties his upper body to the bed again, securing his wrists once more and allowing the Sheriff only the freedom to present his ass.

"You will stay like this while I allow you a small break." Derek swats the Sheriff's backside. "I want to look at your ass."

The game resumes and the Sheriff loses the track of time. For a while, he tries to follow the gameplay but in the middle one of them decides his break is over. The plug starts to vibrate again. Just as he's close to coming, they decide on another toy. Something big and solid. He feels a hand settle on his ass for a while as the new toy gets worked inside.

It's bulbous and stretches him wide. The Sheriff shakes, unsure if it's actually completely inside.

"I feel so full," he whispers against the sheets.

From the couch, Derek hums. There's a good portion of the toy still sticking out of the Sheriff. He gestures at Stiles to leave it.

"Don't let it fall out," Derek orders and wraps an arm around Stiles' waist. Mostly, to keep him from pouncing.

The Sheriff holds his breath. It's useless. With a loud moan, he arches his back when the cursed buzzing resumes. The settings are different, again. The toy is lodged deep inside him, reaching so far that the Sheriff believes he will burst. But soon he forgets the uncomfortable sensation as his cock throbs, begging silently for release.

A few minutes later, he's dripping into the floor.

"Please," the Sheriff sobs. His wrists are secure on his back and he can't move his torso at all. "Please, I can't ... touch me, I can't come. Let me come. I need someone to touch me."

His begging continues. His cheeks flush with arousal and humiliation when Derek and Stiles ignore his pleading.

He blushes hard when the setting of the toy changes and he has to clench around it. It starts to slip, edging closer and closer, threatening to fall out of him. A hint of fear shoots down his spine. He envisions what could happen if he doesn't fulfil Derek's order. At least, he must try. Regardless of his desperate need to come, the Sheriff attempts to keep the toy inside him. Just when only the tip is still inside him, one of them decides to show mercy.

"Well done," the Alpha rumbles. It's not necessary to press the Sheriff down but the hand on the sweaty shoulder gives the older man some reassurance. "Let's continue, okay."

The Sheriff cries out when Derek pulls the toy out of him.

There's no room to move when Alpha pushes inside, thrusting and bottoming out until his cock is deeply buried in the Sheriff's hot, tight ass. Who keens wordlessly as Derek fucks him. It happens hard and fast, overwhelming after hours of only a handful of touches.

Derek takes pity on the Sheriff. When he thrusts back one last time, he reaches around and touches the throbbing shaft. A hint of Derek's fingertips on the flushed, weeping head and the Sheriff comes with a wail. His muscles contract around the dick in his ass but before he can register what's happening, Derek has already pulled out.

The Sheriff sobs as the welcome heat of Derek's body vanished, leaving only a hot stripe of semen trickling out of his ass. His own cock drips helplessly onto the floor.

He shudders, gasping and mercilessly riding the high of his last orgasm, so he doesn't notice how there's a vibrator being pushed back inside.

He yells when the vibrations return, "No!"

Even the low settings brutally work him towards the edge now. The feeling is intense and the buzzing is almost forceful. The Sheriff sobs and yells when another wave crashes over him washes him away but leaves him yearning and hungry and wanting.

It takes him nearly an hour to realize that they tend to use him like this. Bend over the bed, stuffed full with a toy and screaming, only granting him a break that sets his body on fire once the cycle begins anew. In between, they trade places of fucking him but it's always short, fervent and animalistic.

Maybe they are only jerking off inside me , the Sheriff thinks as he opens his mouth to welcome another gag. It's hard and solid and gets secured around his head this time. Only taking out the toy long enough to fill me up.

The Sheriff lost count of how often Derek and Stiles repeated the ritual: leaving him to bend over the bed, toying with him when they get bored and adding load after load when their own needs demanded it.

"It's dripping out his ass," Stiles says a good while later. He isn't sure if his father noticed that they turned off the TV.

The Sheriff's entire backside is a mess.

Stiles reigns himself in and lets Derek move first. The older wolf nods and breathes through his mouth before reaching out.

Derek pulls the Sheriff's cheeks apart, revealing a glistening hole that stretches around an endlessly buzzing toy.

"You did well," the Alpha praises. His human fingers caress the muscled rim. The skin is soft, heated and delightfully reacting to the smallest touch. "I'm proud of you."

The Sheriff cries out. His hole trembles when Derek turns off the vibrator. Stiles makes himself comfortable on the bed and starts stroking his father's head. He murmurs encouragements under his breath as Derek slowly pulls the toy out. It glistens with lube and comes.

With the view of the soft flesh, an inviting hole winking right in front of him, Derek gently takes two fingers and presses them inside. It shouldn't be that easy. But as overstimulated as the Sheriff is, his body attempts to draw Derek's fingers deeper.

"Haven't had enough yet?" Derek asks while Stiles removes the gag before moving on to the restraints.

After a deep inhale, the Sheriff squirms. He keens when Derek plasters himself over his back. When Stiles' hands hoist him upwards and the Sheriff ends up with his face pressed into his son's lap, he cries silently.

"Please. It's ... good. Please. Don't go away," he pleads. Despite the ordeal, they put him through, the Sheriff doesn't want it to be over yet.

He needs them. He needs them close and next to his body. He needs them to touch him, play with him and take him further apart as a sign that they own him.

The head of Derek's cock presses against his abused entrance. Derek asks, "Do you want your Alpha to fuck you?"

"Ngh..." The Sheriff moans, his head filled with images and the need to yield himself entirely to his lover's desires. "Yes, Alpha. Please give me your cock."

The blindfold is still strapped over his eyes, so the Sheriff can only feel how Derek kneads his ass. How he presses himself against his body, holding him down and directing his head until the Sheriff's mouth ends up wrapped around Stiles' cock. Derek watches how desperately the Sheriff suckles at the tip, bobbing his head up and down but submitting himself entirely to the pace Stiles sets.

The Sheriff sniff in distress when Stiles paces himself. When he isn't allowed to throw himself to blindly sucking his cock. Again and again, Stiles drags him off, watching intently how eagerly the Sheriff opens his mouth to take him deeper.

Derek kept his cock between the Sheriff's thighs the entire time. They are creamed with come, rivulets of slick and semen flow down his legs. His own and whatever his hole couldn't keep inside.

The Sheriff's entire body sags in relief when Derek finally pushes inside. He can bear the painful pleasure as long as the Alpha is actually inside him. Finally, his hole is filled with more than a cruel toy. They must have used the entire collection. It probably lies scattered across the bed, evidence of how the Sheriff debased himself and let himself be used.

Like this, though, blindly sucking Stiles' off and moving back into Derek's thrusts, he feels content. At home, secured and looked after.

It doesn't stop the Sheriff from jerking when either Derek or Stiles presses one of the toys against the head of his cock. The Sheriff tenses and gets granted one moment to brace himself.

He cries out as the toy begins to buzz. His soft member hardens under the new stimulation.

Soon, the Sheriff is pleading again. He whines, moans and gasps whenever he's allowed to breathe. Stiles' hands remain on his head, forcing him to take his cock deep down his throat while Derek holds his waist bruising tight as he fucks him hard. The vibrations against his cock send him over the edge before either of them finishes.

For a moment, the Sheriff hangs in suspense. He waits, blindfolded and helpless, swimming in sizzling pleasure. But the toy doesn't move away.

His cock twitches and spurts, and the Sheriff slips into a delirious haze, acknowledging that he doesn't get to decide when Derek and Stiles are done tormenting him.

Chapter Text

Derek had been in a bad mood lately. He had taken to prowling the territory, spending more time as a wolf than as a man. He seldom joined their pack dinners anymore, choosing rather remain outside and guard the forest.

"Dad's worried about you," Stiles announces when they walk through the thick forest together. He's casually drinking his coffee while Derek eats the burritos Stiles got him.

"I'm fine," Derek grumbles but sensing that Stiles probably already has a plan half-formed. It's a step up from the times when Stiles would act without asking if everyone is on board.

Together, they sit on a fallen trunk and lean against each other. Stiles counts it as a win that Derek relaxes enough to think about eating as a human. He's not ready to leave the forest yet but if Stiles' calculations are correct things are going to get easier soon.

"He hopes so. Remember, he hasn't seen you in weeks." Stiles flicks a finger against Derek's shoulder. "He doesn't understand what's going on, that's all."

The atmosphere had been tense lately. Ever since Erica announced that she was pregnant Derek couldn't help himself but lean into his nature as an Alpha. It was only natural, according to Peter. Alphas worried, especially in the first months of the pregnancy when stress could lead to the female losing the child. Hence why Derek stalked the forest and kept away, unwilling to upset the pack with his brooding.

Peter said it will get better. Boyd and Isaac are doing an excellent job guarding her and Erica slowly learned how to deal with the moon while carrying a new life. Derek's nerves would settle soon enough.

But it wasn't easy, waiting for Derek to come home. The house was big and empty without him.

Derek rumbles, low and pleasant when Stiles continues to rub his thumb over his neck. Stiles had been the only one he let close in the past weeks. Unfortunately, he had taken it out on his lover a few times. Not that Stiles complained. He only grinned and ensured that the bites and scratches remained hidden from view.

"I'm sorry that I have been in such a mood lately," Derek says. Both Stiles and the Sheriff have earned an apology.

With the green and lush and no one to bother them for miles, the animal in his mind slowly retracts its claws to let him breathe. He isn't quite there yet but Derek feels his sanity returning.

Derek feels Stiles' grin before he turns around to witness it in full beauty.

"I have been asking Peter what we could do." Stiles wiggles his eyebrows. "There's a way to ease the tension until your brain is back to normal."

A hot shiver runs down Derek's spine when Stiles whispers, "John agreed to help. He said he's looking forward to it."

After Stiles lays out his idea, it takes everything of Derek's self-control not to run back to the house. Weeks of abstinence, of his mind, occupied to keep his territory free from those who would harm his pack have set him on the edge. But Derek reigns himself in, kisses Stiles goodbye and returns to finish his patrol.

The Sheriff lies on his back and feels how his face heats up. He stares at his midsection. There's a bulb under his stomach. It moves every time Derek thrusts back inside. He opens his mouth to protest but no sound comes out.

Instead, his body shudders and the Sheriff clenches harder around the cock in his ass.

"You are so tight," Derek moans. He ruts slowly, thrusting in and out in torturous movements. "You feel so good around me, John."

He looks wild. His dark hair is messy and for once the Alpha looks actually breathless. Like he's hanging by a threat.

The Sheriff wishes he could say something. But he can barely even moan. The experience is too intense. Too strange, too different from what he has known his entire life.

The bulge moves again and the Sheriff whines.

Derek holds his legs, spreads them wide and pins them down. It's easier, and safer this way. The Alpha's cock is so big inside him that he needs to be careful. Why else would the head of his dick drift right under the Sheriff's skin?

"It's too much," the Sheriff mewls when Derek presses deeper. He feels like he's bursting apart. He can't even properly contract around Derek anymore. There's simply no room. "You are too big."

What stops the Sheriff from pulling away, is the look in Derek's eyes. The Alpha appears content, deliriously happy. Like he's high and swimming in bliss.

"Don't you want to feel it?" Derek whispers.

Before the Sheriff can stop him, Derek takes one of his hands and presses it on the Sheriff's stomach. He violently jerks in Derek's tight grip when he feels something press against the palm of his hand.

"Oh god," the Sheriff moans. He wishes he could move away. He should.

But instead, he's starting to rock down, encouraging Derek to move faster, harder.

Rivers of fire run down the Sheriff's spine when Derek starts thrusting. He has him in a tight grip again, slowly losing control over his resolve to be careful. The Sheriff shuts his eyes at the sensation. He's boneless, finally done fighting against the knowledge that this should be painful or downright impossible.

He groans as Derek changes the angle, dragging his cock over the Sheriff's prostate and then deeper down until he feels the bump move beneath his hand again.

"It's too much," the Sheriff whispers, half-sobbing. But his hand remains on his stomach.

The Sheriff sobs when Derek rolls his hips drive himself deeper and starts using more strength. The Alpha is finally letting go, his mind entirely focused on the wet heat surrounding him. It had been impossible to ignore the invitation Stiles laid out for him. The Sheriff, bound and already fucked loose, waiting for Derek to use him. To remove a little stress.

Derek removed the restraints a while ago. It's not like the Sheriff can go anywhere and it makes his surrender so much sweeter.

The Sheriff whines and moans. Derek's cock fills him out and stretches him to a point where he can't breathe. He has no idea how Derek made that thing fit inside him. The thrusts are hard and only Derek's strengths keep him from falling apart.

"Oh god," the Sheriff gasps when Derek comes. There's wetness inside him, a stream of warm fluids that don't stop. Only when it begins to drip out of his hole, the Sheriff notices that Derek's still hard.

In fact, Derek never stopped fucking him at all. He only slowed down a little to watch the cum sizzle out.

"We aren't done yet," Derek rasps. His mouth moves to the Sheriff's neck, demanding submission and licking over the tender and bruised flesh. The Sheriff trembles around him, and clenches around the thick cock, finally realizing that there's no end in sight. That they won't be done anytime soon.

"O-okay," the Sheriff murmurs as he tries to hide his face. "Do what you will with me, Derek."

He writhes under the next thrust, jutting his hips upwards. It's no surprise that Derek drags his arm off his face.

"No hiding," the Alpha commands. He guides John's hand down to his belly again. He grabs John's head, forcing the man to watch how Derek's cock moves inside him. "Look at your belly. You have freely offered yourself to me, you should feel what I do to you."

It's ... a lot. Too much of Derek's frame around, the presence of the Alpha towering above him which lessened in the last weeks, the empty nights and the lonely bed because Stiles chose to be at Derek's side whenever he could. It's too much at once.

The Alpha nuzzles the Sheriff's neck, content in his place. Having a soft, willing human open up for him is far different from the sex he has with Stiles. Of course, sex with Stiles was always amazing but burying himself in the Sheriff's tight hole, having the man squeeze tight around Derek's cock while moaning every time the Alpha moved was a far different experience.

Chapter Text

It's the full moon and the boys should be back soon. The Sheriff would be lying if he said that he isn't bracing himself for it. The night of the full moon always brings something unexpected with it. An edge that isn't there the other days of the month.

He hears them pulling up in Derek's car. They had decided to spend the night further away from the house, so Derek took Stiles to a truly remote area and let him run loose.

His son returns with bright eyes as he opens the front door. Behind him, dawn gleams at the tree line. They live outside of Beacon Hills, there's no one around the Sheriff has to worry about.

"Good morning," he tries to greet them casually. He sits on the sofa and drinks his coffee. Of course, he has been waiting for them after catching some sleep. "How was your night?"

"It was amazing!" Stiles' smile is sharp and his eyes shine ice-blue against the morning sun.

As new as the change is, the Sheriff knows his son well enough to guess that he hasn't run out of energy yet. Rather, the long run through the woods at Derek's side was only a warm-up. A way to relieve the pent-up stress, leaving his son in a good mood.

Stiles pounces on him and lands in his lap. He wraps his arms around his father. With the first deep inhale, there's a restlessness in him that finally seems to settle. But the hungry look on the face doesn't fade with it.

The Sheriff groans. He has been anticipating their return and knowing that there will be wild sex after the night of the full moon put his body in the mood for some action. It takes only a single movement of Stiles' body, a roll of his hips against his own, to awaken the simmering arousal.

As usual, Derek remains a step behind. He is more patient, dragging his feet on the floor like a satisfied cat after a good meal. His eyes shine. He has hidden his claws but there's no doubt that there is a predator in the room.

"Get upstairs unless you wish to get fucked in the kitchen again, John," Derek says. It's a good sign both werewolves are capable of using words.

There have been more stressful nights. Nights in which the wolves returned growling and they dragged John to the floor to fuck him two feet away from the front door.

"Yes, Alpha," the Sheriff acknowledges.

He feels Stiles tuck at his shirt. He loses most of this clothing before they reach the bedroom.

"Someone has been waiting for us," Stiles croons and wraps his fingers around John's dick. It's already half-hard and it won't be difficult to get him fully there. "What a good slut you are. Isn't he, Derek?"

"Absolutely." Derek presses the older man onto the bed. With the Sheriff flat on his back, he kneels over his head and frees his own erection from his jeans.

At some point, the Sheriff would like to learn if they are hard the entire night or if there's a switch that gets flipped as soon as they come home.

Not that the facts matter in the long run.

"Hmm," the Sheriff breathes loudly.

Derek had just thrust the tip of his cock past his lips. The Alpha widens his stance by pressing his knees deeper into the bed and lowers himself further into the Sheriff's warm mouth. The older man bemoans the lack of air but his fingers dig into the covers of the bed instead of trying to push Derek away.

Not that he could. But with the Alpha werewolf over him returns a deeply rooted satisfaction. It's a sense of security, knowing that Derek is in charge.

"Keep it in your mouth, I will make you gag on it, so help me," Derek groans. Delighted by the wet lips closing around the head of his cock, he says, "Don't move, John. Don't move until I tell you otherwise."

Derek ruts his cock deeper down the Sheriff's throat, pulling back only to let him breathe before thrusting back in.

The position leaves him also a wonderful view of what Stiles is doing. With the Sheriff's head trapped and Derek kneeling over him, there's the rest of the body spread out in front of him.

"Good boy." Derek runs a hand over the naked chest, appreciating the unmarked skin. Ideas fill his mind about what he could do with it in the next hours.

His fingertips start tweaking the Sheriff's nipples until they beautifully harden.

"Maybe we should just tease him a little bit," he says to Stiles.

With both of them having just returned from a long run, it's clear that they are in charge. John decided to wait in the pack house instead of his old home. After so many moons, he has learned his presence here means he's consenting to anything Derek and Stiles might throw at him.

After a full moon, he usually gets swept along with what they want, leaving him seduced and with little room for protest.

It had taken a while for Derek to allow them to visit the Sheriff immediately after a full moon night. With their control thin and their animalistic side dominating most of their thought process, it hadn't been clear if the Sheriff truly knew what he was agreeing to.

They are past these uncertain days.

Today, Derek can revel in a perfect night ending with the Sheriff moaning around his cock. The Alpha feels how the Sheriff's throat relaxes to let him slide deeper.

"God, it's amazing how you fill out his mouth," Stiles answers.

He has been nipping at his father's skin for the longest time while his fist works up and down the Sheriff's dick. Which barely peaks out of the jeans, but they still cling to John's hips. With Stiles using his inhuman strength to casually hold his father down, the man has no way to escape.

A deep growl rises in Derek's chest at the sight. The Sheriff is already jutting his hips upwards, eager and keening for more.

"You should think he'd be happy with a cock in his mouth. But our little human is a slut who yearns for more." Derek increases the pace. He doesn't seek to come, he simply loves to fuck John's face. Usually, he tries to hold back. But sometimes pretending to be human isn't enough.

Sometimes, he needs to use his superior strength and sense on the man lying beneath him.

"Don't worry, we want you to enjoy it," Stiles tells his father when he pulls his pants down. He uses enough force to drag the Sheriff down the bed.

"Oh oh, you will stay here," Derek crows. He pulls at the Sheriff when the downward motions threaten that he might lose the tongue pressing flat against his cock. With a swift motion, the lips close firmly around his cock again, keeping it wet and warm.

Derek pinches the Sheriff's nipples. Hard, to make him flinch, a reminder of what happens if he doesn't do as Derek says. "Up. Up. Back under me, my friend. I don't want you to move. You stay right where you are. For now, my cock belongs in your mouth."

The Sheriff moans in agreement and tries to take Derek's cock deeper. But with the Alpha kneeling over him, the wolf has far more leverage and entirely decides the pace. And for a good while, the Sheriff would remain exactly there.

Especially when Stiles decides, "I think we should finally put something in his ass."

The younger werewolf lifts the Sheriff's legs until Derek can hold him by his ankles, folding the man under him in half while slowly and steadily fucking his mouth. The Sheriff answers the change with more moans. He sinks deeper into the bed and into the task of having Derek's cock in his mouth.

Originally, Derek hadn't planned on the morning proceeding this way. The full moon night had been amazing like Stiles had said. They had run through the remote areas of the preserve, just the two of them. The pack had been in howling distance but the recent peaceful months allowed Derek to slacken the tight reigns he usually kept. Years of paranoia make it difficult, to great his fear of losing his family and his pack again.

For him, the last night had been exhilarating in a relaxing way. Stiles had been ready to vibrate out of his skin. The shift had done wonders for his focus.

Derek sends his lover a proud, loving smile. With a motion, he draws him close for a kiss. It's not as frenzied as the ones they shared hours ago. It's far more tender and controlled. Stiles' control remained a wonder, he had taken to the bite like he had been born with it. Only the full moon threw him off.

The moon dispersed all anxieties, all worries and fears. There had been many reasons in the Stilinski household for those. Neither Stiles nor John had it easy after Claudia's death. But their negative habits fed into each other, pulling them both down instead of allowing them to grow closer after living through such a tragedy.

"You were great tonight," Derek reminisces when he pulls away from the kiss. Stiles tastes like the forest. The cool night clings to his skin and his eyes captured the moonlight.

Beneath all of it, Derek senses the quiet, ever-burning desperation nonetheless.

Stiles needs to be close to his father. Father and son had been drifting apart, like continents, inching away from each other year by year. The bite would have been the final nail in the coffin.

Hadn't Derek allowed the Sheriff to be pulled into their relationship? He had demanded it, pressed for it at the beginning when a freshly bitten Stiles went nearly insane with fear of losing his father. The desire to keep him close, to keep him forever translated into this: a relationship that defied human morals and boundaries.

Derek hadn't expected to like it that much and hadn't been keen on sharing Stiles with someone else this way.

With a sigh, Derek grabs the Sheriff's ankles tighter and works his cock in and out of his mouth.

No, the turn of events came as a surprise but the temptation of such a willing human waiting in the Alpha's den, ready to be taken.

"So malleable and lascivious. You have been waiting for hours. You set the alarm earlier then you needed to because you couldn't abide the emptiness." Derek runs a finger over the Sheriff's chest, admiring how ravenous and thirsty the man always gets as soon as there's a hint of dominance in the air.

Beneath him, the Sheriff hums in agreement. The sound sends a shiver down Derek's spine.

It's such a lovely sensation, such sweet warmth he isn't keen on losing.

"Do you want to have him first?" Stiles asks. He notices the shift in Derek's mood.

The Alpha had been content to let Stiles run free but now the Alpha is laser-focused on the human beneath him. His expression looks almost sweet but there's a hint of dark lust and enchanting arousal as well. The wolf Stiles just ran with remains close beneath the surface and as the Alpha, it's Derek's right to go first.

Not that he would insist on it, Derek is pretty relaxed compared to the archaic traditions some packs keep.

But it means a lot to him that Stiles makes the offer. For the Sheriff belongs to Stiles and that's a claim even the Alpha respects.

"Oh, I thought you had plans for your father. You couldn't shut up about them in the car," Derek answers. It's telling, though, that he has still and pulled out of John's mouth. Leaving the Sheriff quietly gasping beneath him, aroused and spread out on the bed.

The sight is tempting them both. Stiles had been jacking off his father the entire time, pulling away each time when he sensed a wave of heat. He had even ignored the admirable rear so far. As much as they both loved to commandeer the older man, they were in a playful mood tonight and wished to drag things out a bit.

There are so many ways they could make the Sheriff beg. Using his ass is simply the sweetest, most satisfying one.

But watching Derek continuously fuck his father's mouth from above comes close.

"The moon gave you a voracious appetite," Stiles says, gesturing at his father. The man on the bed lying in front of them resembles an offer, a sacrifice made on the altar dictated to the moon. "I don't mind watching you dominate him tonight. The last time, you allowed me to direct. It's only fair to make it your turn."

Also, it's hardly a hassle watch Derek take his father apart. Their dynamic is a far different one. While Stiles has to fight for every inch, every touch, every surrender, the Sheriff yields to the Alpha werewolf far more easily. In fact, it looks effortless on Derek's side.

He gets Stiles' father to react with greed and desperation. The Sheriff lets himself be led and controlled in a manner that Stiles finds lewd and mesmerizing.

Derek looks at him and beautifully, he understands without Stiles having to explain further. It's one of the many reasons why he loves Derek so much.

"Fine with me." Derek grins as he backs off as little to rearrange the Sheriff to his likening. "I will give you a show. Do you want him to be desperate?"

"Hm." Stiles frees himself from his pants. He's content to watch but his jeans will grow uncomfortably tight. He lies down on the bed and props up his head. "I thought more meek and submissive maybe. But feel free to pound into him until he cries."

"Then I will do that." Derek smiles lovingly, agreeing to Stiles' preposition.

He presses the Sheriff into the bed, hooking up his legs and murmurs his gratitude when Stiles crawls up to hold his father open. Derek swats the Sheriff's ass a few times and the impact jolts the man out of the pleasurable haze he had been swimming in. With his body warm and his mind sufficiently occupied with the dick in his mouth, the Sheriff hadn't really been able to follow the conversation.

"Sheriff, what do you say?"

He blinks at Derek, his mouth slightly opened, his lips red and a strand of his hair sticking to his forehead.

"Y-yeah? Derek?" the Sheriff attempts to stem himself against the thrum of pleasure in order to answer the Alpha properly. "What do you want?"

Derek leans forwards, letting his cock rub over the cleft of the Sheriff's ass. He pets John's face for a moment before gently pressing three fingers in his mouth. "I want you to be good. Can you do this for me?"

He lets the Sheriff suckle before allowing him to answer the question.

"Yes, Derek," the Sheriff answers, panting after Derek pulled the fingers out. He feels a bit nervous but agrees right away. Trying to breathe calmly, he lies back down and opens his legs, fixated on the large man kneeling above him. "I can do that."

To prove his point, Derek smacks the Sheriff's ass. He repeats the motion and slaps him until he's sure that the older man lies there, waiting and taking it appropriately.

Since Stiles busies himself spreading lube over his father's hole, Derek asks again, "You will do exactly as I say?"

"Yes, Alpha. I will do what want." The Sheriff trembles when Stiles pushes the first fingers inside. But he cannot look away from Derek who holds him firmly.

"So you will obey? Stiles wants you moaning tonight. I think you should give him what he wants," Derek prods further. "Will Daddy be a good slut for his son?"

"I ... I think - Ah" The Sheriff gasped. He cries out when Derek slaps his hole hard. His calves tremble violently in Stiles' grip which holds him steady.

"What did I say?" Derek asks. He slaps the Sheriff's hole again until the human quivers. Derek shoves two fingers past the rim. Not deep, only to explore the red, trembling hole. It's telling and familiar how the Sheriff immediately tries to suck the fingers deeper. "Will you be a good slut? Don't want you to be fucked? Isn't that the reason you were sitting downstairs all night?"

The Sheriff keens, straining against the assault but he gives in when Derek touches his prostate and he writhes in response. He holds out for a few moments but soon it's too much. The Alpha keeps stroking his sweet spot, sending shivers down his spine while his son interferes whenever he wants. Stiles varies between stroking his cock, pinching and licking his nipples or shoving his fingers into his father's mouth.

"Hnngh," the Sheriff finally gives when he can't take it anymore. "I-I want ... I'm..."

Derek rubs the head of his cock over the Sheriff's entrance.

"What did I say? Didn't you just promise me to do exactly what I say?" Derek teases the Sheriff by slipping inside before pulling back out.

He repeats the act until John falls apart.

"I will be good," the Sheriff begs. "Please, ... inside. Derek, please get inside..."

Derek slides inside carefully, spreading the Sheriff out on his cock. But he does it slowly, carefully and he immediately withdraws.

"Perhaps we should get a toy and I fuck Stiles instead. But trust me, the toy won't make you happy either. I will leave you here until we are ready to eat dinner."

"No..." The Sheriff almost sniffs. He's hard and desperate to have Derek inside him. Stiles' constant watchful gaze doesn't help.

But Stiles' presence is also the reason why he's fighting so hard against the words Derek wants to hear.

Only when Stiles moves around and resumes the position Derek had been in earlier, kneeling above him with his cock in his hand and the Sheriff's immediate reaction is to open his lips, he finally yields.

He sobs in frustration, hating himself but yearning for the need to be dominated.

"Just say it," Derek says. He presses inside again, at an angle which leaves John no room to breathe. "It's okay. It's just us. But we want to hear it and you promised to be good."

" Yes. Yes, I want to be toyed with. I want be good for you. Please don't go. Please just fuck me, I want your dick, " the Sheriff sobs, desperately rutting upwards to get his fill of Derek's cock. He wants the Alpha to start thrusting. He also wants Stiles down his throat.

He wants them to fill and stuff him from both sides. He wants to moan around Stiles' cock, and press his tongue against the hard flesh while Derek stretches him and takes him hard enough to make him cry.

Derek smiles, dark and waiting. "Then say the words."

The Sheriff lets his head fall onto his chest.

He whimpers meekly. "I want to be a good slut. Please let Daddy be a good slut."

Chapter Text

The Sheriff's dick falls hard and heavy between his thighs as he sucks Stiles' cock. His son sits on the edge of the sofa while the Sheriff gives his third blowjob this morning - and it's barely nine in the morning. Behind him, Derek cooks pancakes. He already handed Stiles a cup of coffee, something he yearns for as much as hoping he will be granted release soon.

The older man chokes a little when Stiles guides his father down his cock. One hand in his father's hair is enough to keep him there. His tongue presses firmly against Stiles' cock and the Sheriff hums contently when his son spills down his throat.

His eyes look up as Stiles pulls out his softening cock. Drops land on the Sheriff's lips and Stiles says, "Good boy, clean it up and then we can eat. If you are really good, you might get to come after breakfast."

"Yes, Stiles," the Sheriff answers. He nods obediently and leans forwards to lick the cum of Stiles' dick.

Thankfully, his son helps him to his feet when he's done. The entire ordeal of sleeping with werewolves may have the nice side-effect that the Sheriff deals with physical strains easier than before. Otherwise, he would not be able to come as often as the wolves desire but it's still nice.

Wearing only a black shirt which must belong to Derek, the Sheriff asks, "I can get my pants?"

"Just don't touch yourself," Stiles nods.

Breakfast turns into an easy and near-silent affair. The Sheriff and Derek don't talk much and Stiles fill the uncomfortable stretches with a little chatter. His manners turned softer in the recent month. He little more controlled, a little more relaxed. The Sheriff credits Derek with this achievement for the Alpha degrees with the same patience it's Stiles' turn to wash the dishes.

"And we are going to have a little fun," he tells John. The Sheriff nods. He's grateful for the family dinners, for the couple allowing him to live and stay here.

The alternative is to return to a cold and empty house.

It's much better to be pressed against the table and feel Derek's hot breath. A tongue runs over his neck while two hands firmly hold his hips as Derek ruts lazily against his ass.

"Right here in the kitchen?" The Sheriff asks. He plants his hands on the table for more support.

It's a warm summer morning and the thin fabric of his pants isn't much of a barrier between himself and Derek's hardening cock.

"Why not?" Derek murmurs. One of his hands disappears under the Sheriff's shirt. His fingers run over his chest, drawing gentle circles over his stomach and over his nipples. "I had the pleasure of watching you suck Stiles, we should return the favour."

The fact that Derek places a can of lube on the table tells the Sheriff that he won't be sucking Derek off. Not with how Derek already pries open the lid. He places it next to the Sheriff's right hand and says, "Finger yourself open."

The Sheriff digs into the can before reaching around. He shoves down his pants with the other hand. With a deep breath, he lets one digit enter himself. He hasn't gotten used to it, doing this to himself. Usually, Derek and Stiles enjoy it far too much to dig their fingers into him.

"Open that little hole for me, Sheriff," Derek urges him on, grabbing his wrist and imploring him to go faster. "You don't want to hurt yourself. Go on and use a second finger, and press them deep. Yeah, just like that."

Soon, the Sheriff rides three of his fingers, rocking back and desperately trying to reach deeper. But he isn't as experienced as Derek or Stiles. The angle isn't right either. It doesn't help to concentrate when Derek opens his jeans and shoves his cock between John's thighs.

John almost asks for help. He'd rather have Derek take over. But the Alpha has given an order and with Stiles watching while doing the dishes, he's not gonna show mercy anytime soon.

"I... I'm ready, Alpha," John breathes. He groans when his fingers reach the deepest part of himself.

Derek doesn't comment on it. The Sheriff doesn't receive a well done. Instead, Derek gets himself in position and bends the Sheriff across the table. Cold air sends a shiver down the Sheriff's spine. His backside feels exposed. All he can do is cling to the table when Derek shifts his hips and...

"Oh, that's...," the Sheriff can barely breathe when Derek presses inside. He feels his hole stretching around the Alpha's cock. The prep makes it easier but there's barely time to adjust.

The Sheriff's forehead falls against the table and he moans when Derek bottoms out.

"How does his hole feel?" He hears Stiles say.

"Wet and tight, like always," Derek answers. "He twitches around my dick. He probably missed us last night."

The Sheriff whines when Derek starts rocking back and forth, using his normal human strength to keep him pinned down. The weight of Derek's hand on his back is enough to keep him immobile but the Alpha's expectation to be obeyed suffices as well.

It doesn't take long until the Sheriff starts whining. Derek's already fucking him with steady thrusts, deep and unforgiving. It has John heaving and gasping against the table.

"Stiles said I could come after breakfast," the Sheriff pants when Derek doesn't slow down, only keeps fucking the Sheriff's hole again and again. He twists his head back to stare over his shoulder. "Please?"

"Hm, that's not your decision," Derek says. He watches how a delicate quiver runs through the Sheriff who does his best to swallow his protests. "Do you understand that?"

He waits until the Sheriff nods before Derek resumes his thrusts. The older man ends up breathing harshly, holding onto the table as Derek moves faster, using the Sheriff's ass as he sees fit. It becomes clear that this time Derek will do as he pleases without taking the Sheriff's needs into consideration.

"Don't move," Derek whispers into the Sheriff's ear when he's about to come. He hoists one of the older man's legs onto the table before letting himself go with a groan.

Derek pushes deep, one last time before sighing. His eyes are fixated on his dick and how it spurts. It's always nice to watch how his semen disappears into the Sheriff's hole. He waits until he's done before stepping away. John's bereaved moan echoes through the kitchen.

He makes a beautiful sight, half-naked and bends over the kitchen table with his ass raised into the air.

"Go and get the toy box," Derek says to Stiles who had been watching for a while. It doesn't take long to clean and dry a few plates.

"Oh, looks like he's in for it today." Stiles smiles and quickly leaves in order to bring everything to the upper bedroom.

Derek himself walks around the table. The Sheriff looks up at him, still not daring to move, and shivers when the Alpha whispers very quietly, "I know that you went out drinking with the cops yesterday. Don't you think I can smell that you had a little too much?"

The Sheriff goes rigid. He says, "Please don't tell, Stiles. I didn't mean to drink more than that one beer."

"I won't, just this one time because I can sense how guilty you feel." Derek runs a hand through the Sheriff's hair. The grip turns possessive when he smells the first drop of his come trickling out of the Sheriff. "But I expect you to follow orders today, alright? I will also inform Stiles that you are being punished but the reason remains between the two of us. I don't want Stiles to worry any more than he already does."

"Yes, Derek," the Sheriff agrees.

He avoids Derek's burning gaze and turns his eyes away in shame as he climbs off the table. His cock throbs with need but that's suddenly not important anymore. The Sheriff knows drinking one beer too many isn't the real issue. It's how Stiles dislikes the scent of alcohol on his father, remembering the years after Claudia's death vividly whenever he does.

The Sheriff shoves down the memories. Worse than the loss of his wife, is that he abandoned his grieving son in favour of work and whiskey until he managed to crawl out of the bottle years too late.

So he doesn't voice his objections when he climbs the stairs, keenly aware of Derek's cum dripping out of him. It's not much but it runs down his legs.

Quietly and knowing that he deserves whatever is about to happen next, the Sheriff climbs on the bed of their shared bedroom. Which they mainly use for sex. His cock twitches, half of him already anticipating the stream of lust his body has come to associate with this room.

"How do you want me?" the Sheriff asks in Derek's direction.

A sinful ache takes a hold of him when he discovers that the Alpha has been looking at his backside the entire time. The Sheriff controls himself and doesn't try to swipe the dripping come away. He waits for instructions, fearing that Derek won't allow him the bed.

The Alpha's stern expression haunts him and the Sheriff feels his heart beating in his throat.

"Wait a moment," Derek says and he doesn't even sound angry.

Stiles returns with a toy box a moment later. He walks with a swing in his step, clearly expecting to be let through. John lowers his head when he's forced to listen in to the discussion which follows. They are arguing. Stiles snaps but Derek seems to remain calm.

"Not today, Stiles," he hears Derek's voice while the Alpha blocks the door. "This is between me and your father."

John's gut clenches at the words. The apprehension drowns out even Stiles' yelled What the hell, Derek? He focuses on a spot on the floor, glad he's not entirely naked because the black tank top still clings to his torso. But he wonders how long he will be allowed to wear it. If Derek is going to rip it off him with his claws or if John has to take it off himself.

After a few short minutes when dragging on forever for the Sheriff, Derek returns. He casually closes the door.

"Kneel on the ground and bend over the bed," he orders and opens the toy box. It contains nearly everything they regularly use and what the Sheriff is allowed to take to his private bedroom. This room has a drawer with stuff the Sheriff is not allowed to touch.

When the Sheriff swallows thickly and wonders how he's supposed to ask what Derek told Stiles, the Alpha explains, "I send Stiles on a few errands. I haven't told him anything yet because this is between you and me. He will return around midday."

"Thank you, Derek," the Sheriff says and slowly kneels in front of the bed.

There's a well-used carpet laid out in front. John's glad they allow him that, especially since this will not be the first time he's going to spend a prolonged time on his knees.

"I still begin with prepping you first, a little more properly than down in the kitchen. There's no use in starting as long as Stiles might hang around to listen in," Derek says. This time the hand on John's shoulder is unyielding. It's impossible to escape.

But it's not the power behind the hand pushing him down which fills John with dread. He rests his forehead on the covers, placing his hands in front of his head before closing his eyes.

Derek sits down next to him and touches his back. The Sheriff's distress is visible even without a werewolf's senses.

"Don't worry, we will get you through this. Just trust me that this is the best course of action." Derek cuffs the Sheriff's wrists before tying them to the bed. He moves on and does the same with John's ankles and thighs. The older man struggles, trying to get comfortable. Only when he senses that there's no way to escape, he relaxes slowly.

There's an apology on his lips but the Sheriff hesitates to voice it. At this point, it would look like he's trying to get out of his punishment.

It's almost as if is Derek reading his thoughts. The Alpha pauses, lube in hand, and says, "This is not about the one beer. I'm not trying to regulate that. We have to address that Stiles' mood is affected by you smelling like alcohol. I don't think he knows it's a trigger yet but it's just a matter of time."

The Sheriff whimpers. In front of his eyes flash memories of a cold and empty house. As a boy, he was left alone or with Melissa too often.

The young man he sucked off this morning, three times to be exact. He hadn't even thought about it. He had been eager to swallow, to wrap his lips around Stiles' cock and kneel in front of him, not minding his own straining erection.

"Please, Derek," the Sheriff laments and ruts against the bed as much as he can.

He can quite verbalize what he's asking for. But he wants Derek to take over. To hurt him, take his choices away from him in the same way he had done to his own son. At the same time, John doesn't want to think about it. There's nothing good coming from this headspace.

Thankfully, Derek knows this as well. For he checks the Sheriff's hole, sinking his fingers inside. The Sheriff is still loose from earlier but he's tightening already. Come runs down the cleft of his ass. Derek drizzles lube onto a toy, spreading it over the silicone generously.

The vibrator is big. Derek rubs the tip over the Sheriff's hole, teasing the man in a manner that makes clear who is calling the shots. Derek even turns the toy on for a few seconds and holds it against the Sheriff's tip, rubbing it against his cock before trailing the toy back over his balls.

The Sheriff moans and rocks his hips back and forth.

Derek puts a hand on the Sheriff's hip, keeping him still before pressing the heavy object inside. It's a toy they used before but usually not from the beginning. The Sheriff digs his fingers into the bed cover, writhing a little when the toy stretches him. Unlike Derek's cock after breakfast, the toy stays.

It reaches deep, already a test because it's big and narrowing his world down to the hot, savoury sensation.

Derek flips on the switch and prods the toy. He shifts it around until he's sure the tip presses right up against the Sheriff's prostate.

"Stiles' got into the car but he's still listening in. So, I'm going to leave you like this until he's out of range," Derek comments.

The Sheriff bites down on his lips, losing himself in the feeling of the toy sending sparks down his spine. He tenses in anticipation when Derek starts pumping the toy in and out of him. Derek guides him towards the edge, prodding him further and further by showing no mercy. The Sheriff moans whenever the toy moves, and twisting against the restraints only makes it worse.

Just when the Sheriff is already dripping onto the floor, his cock hard and throbbing, an ache he can no longer ignore, Derek lets go.

The Sheriff cries out, bucking and rutting against the bed, but the vibrator buzzes mercilessly. It's just not enough.

He moans Derek's name but the Alpha uses a few straps to keep the toy in place.

"It's going to hold you open for me." Derek runs a hand over the warm ass, admiring how the Sheriff's hole stretches around the vibrator. It clenches in tandem with the vibrations. He also informs the Sheriff, "I'm not going to let you come either. There will be further punishment if you reach an orgasm without my permission. Do you understand?"

"Y-yes, Derek," the Sheriff sobs. His hole tightens uncontrollably around the toy again. "Yes, I understand."

"Good. Now, you are going to stay like this for a while." With the Sheriff still tied to the bed, it takes a bit of manoeuvring but soon the older man's head rests in Derek's lap. "I'll allow you to suck my cock in the meantime. We can start the punishment after that."

The Sheriff doesn't answer. He opens his mouth and licks over the tip of Derek's cock, losing himself in submission.

"That's it, keep going," Derek sighs when the Sheriff hollows his cheeks and his eyes flutter shut.

It's already evident how the older man slips away from the guilt which plagued him all morning. Neither of the Stilinskis would have noticed the issues if Derek hadn't brought it into the light. But he rather addresses it now than wait for the day when Stiles is able to decipher the scents more accurately. This morning, Stiles hadn't even known that the lingering scent of alcohol on his father set off the bad mood he woke up with.

Derek comes down the Sheriff's throat who swallowed like they had trained him to.

He moans when Derek touches his sweat-soaked neck. The sound verges on a mewl when the finger trails down towards the toy.

"Get on the bed," Derek orders quietly after cutting the ropes from the bedposts.

He watches how it takes the Sheriff three attempts to get to his feet. The older man finally crawls onto the bed, shaking while straining to remain on all fours because the vibrator hasn't let up yet. The straining erection hanging between his legs doesn't help. By now, the Sheriff has been edged for over an hour.

Derek remains strict. He announces, "I'm going to tie you up again but it'll be a little more comfortable. But you will not come, alright?"

The Sheriff nods, his face flush with embarrassment when Derek starts touching him. The hand feels hot on his skin. It teases his nipples and guides him into a familiar position. The Sheriff ends up stretched out on the bed, his wrists tied behind his back while he's lying flat on his stomach.

The vibrator buzzes in his hole, a constant tease and reminder that they aren't done yet.

His arousal picks up when the Sheriff watches Derek rummage through the box. He takes out a few things which bring back marvellous memories. Memories of his own lustful and vulgar behaviour but the Sheriff doesn't flinch away. Instead, he spreads his legs a little and lifts his head when Derek presses a dildo against his mouth.

"Usually I would let you choose between the gag and the blindfold. Today you get both before I spank you."

Derek holds up the paddle and a crop, showing the Sheriff what will happen next. He gives a moment to back out. When there's nothing but eager panting, Derek waits until the Stiles' father opens his mouth properly. He makes a low sound when the gag gets fastened around his head and his word disappears into darkness when the blindfold follows.

"I'm not going to tie your legs up just yet but you will hold still." Derek starts using the crop on the Sheriff's back, arms and thighs.

The movements are slow and Derek watches how each blow lands. The Sheriff tries to breathe through each hit but it becomes laboured when Derek focuses on the ass.

He makes a beautiful sight, Derek thinks.

He hits the ass again and watches the cheeks jiggle. Under the sound of the crop touching the warm skin, the toy has nearly turned silent. But the Sheriff must be keenly aware of it. For he screams when Derek's next blow is harsh and merciless.

The Alpha's nose twitches when he smells beats of precome. "Don't come. We are far from done."

Rather than standing up, Derek kneels on the bed now. His left-hand lands on the Sheriff's neck while the other roams over the exposed back. He plays with the straps a bit which holds the vibrator in place. Not that it would fall out at this point but it's another demonstration of how Derek's in charge.

He switches to the paddle and brings it down. The Sheriff screams around the gag. The paddle hits much harder than the crop. Derek sits much closer as well and now reaching for the Sheriff's ass, grabbing it and digging his fingers into the soft flesh before resuming the blows. He doesn't go easy on him, Derek keeps hitting until the skin is hot to the touch.

He doesn't stop, he brings the paddle down again on the Sheriff's ass until the man's legs are shaking. The bound hands tremble and it's good the Sheriff is lying down. He wouldn't be able to hold himself up.

Blindfolded and gagged the man can only let out muffled moans. It's a consistent trail of 'Hmpfs' and 'Ahs'

Derek senses how intense it must be. Every time he hits Stiles' father, he tenses around the vibrator. It's a loop of pain and pleasure and it doesn't take long until the Sheriff's body doesn't know what to do with it anymore. Only when Derek switches the hand kneading the Sheriff's ass to playing with the thick end of the toy, protruding from the quivering tender ass, the Sheriff chokes on a scream. The man shakes wildly despite lying flat on the bed and comes.

"D'hmm," the Sheriff cries behind the gag. If it's from the orgasm or because he came without permission is difficult to say.

Throwing the paddle away, Derek kneels behind the Sheriff and crowds against his body. He needs to use his own strength to hoist the Sheriff's ass into the air.

"I told you not you come," the Alpha whispers. Though they are both aware of the fact he set the Sheriff an impossible task.

With the man not protesting before the gag came on, he agreed to the terms. Derek switches off the vibrator which had consistently buzzed against the Sheriff's prostate. He cares little for softening erection, the man beneath him knows from experience it won't last long.

With relish he pulls out the toy and inhales the scent of his own come mixed with sweat and lube - together with the amazing scent of warmth and wetness he's about to encroach.

"Shall I take out the gag?" Derek asks when he presses his chest against the Sheriff's back.

Letting the man know that there's no escape and that there's a dangerous animal about to mount him.

The Sheriff manages to shake his head just before Derek slides into his well-prepared ass. He makes a filthy sound, unable to entirely comprehend how thick Derek feels, how big he is. His body hasn't calmed down yet and all his mind registers is the hands grabbing his hips to pull him backwards.

He arches his back, his fingers curling when Derek thrusts hard and provokes a muffled sob from the Sheriff. Who lies blindfolded on the bed, moaning loud despite the gag in his mouth as the powerful pressure doesn't ease up. It's an entirely different stimulation from the vibrator.

It's almost too easy. His ass still hurts and the Sheriff's haunted by the evidence dripping down his tighs - that he came without permission. He almost floats in bliss when the knowledge sinks in that he can't do anything about his situation. Derek's gonna take what he wants, as it's right as Alpha.

"Your ass is squeezing me like you can't get enough," Derek muses. He fucks the Sheriff harder, pushing towards his own orgasm. "Maybe I'll put the toy back when I'm done. This way I can trap my come inside you. I could even leave you here, all wet and dripping. You want to get marked by your Alpha?"

The Sheriff curls into Derek's ruthless thrusting. He spams when he listens to the proposal. He cries out when Derek comes, grabbing his hips tightly to leave no room to wiggle away.

Filthy slick flood his ass, warm and enough to trickle out of his hole by the time Derek's done. Heaving, the Sheriff attempts to calm down. But he's already hard again, desperate for further touch. Another part knows he should better calm down, for this is hardly the end.

He swallows and licks against the gag in his mouth when a solid object gets pressed into his ass. Derek's hardly slow and careful. The Sheriff blushes beneath the blindfold. The toy slides in easily, wet with Derek's come and then ... there's only the thick fullness.

"You can lie down for a while," the Sheriff hears Derek says.

He barely registers how he's gently put down. He ends up lying on his side, his arms get tied together in front while he hugs his knees to his chest. There's no room to move, only the knowledge of the heavy toy penetrating him nice and deep. Since he cannot turn and move around on his own and the Sheriff senses Derek nearby, he's helpless when he comes again.

He shakes when the waves come crashing down. His body jolts as pleasure ripples through him, staining his own thighs because it has nowhere to go.

The Sheriff loses time after that. The soft vibrations remain but Derek returns and fucks him with the toy after a while. He twists it, fucking him hard before pushing it in and out, nice and slow.

Fingers bump against his puckered skin and the Sheriff shivers.

"I can't...," the older man rasps after Derek removes the gag. He still can't see anything, and can't move because he's bound and helpless. When Derek turns on the toy again, pressing the tip against the Sheriff's sensitive hole, he whimpers, "I can't. I can't..."

"You can," Derek answers. "You will."

But he removes the toy, takes the restraints away and removes the blindfold.

The Sheriff still ends up with Derek's dick inside him. The Alpha fucks him hard, and lifts him up and down when the Sheriff fails to find the strength to ride him.

He ends up sprawled out on the bed when Derek's finally done. His body shivers and spams, and his mind feels delirious.

The Sheriff barely registers how Derek inserts a plug. His hole quivers, and the toy is cold. It's bulbous and heavy but barely enough to hold all the come inside. Which already leaks out of him, staining his ass and his thighs with his and Derek's wetness.

Derek pulls the blanket over him, remaining nearby when the Sheriff finally falls asleep.

"I'm sorry I had to go this far to get you out of your own head," Derek apologizes.

It's not the first time. The Sheriff is a man wracked by guilt. A notion Derek is familiar with. His fingers massage the Sheriff's neck, gently as a reassurance that he's not alone.

About an hour later, Stiles returns. He must sense that something is off because he puts the groceries away first before coming up, far calmer than when he has left.

"What happened?" Stiles nods in his father's direction. "Are you finally going to tell me?"

Derek sighs but checks if the Sheriff's asleep before answering, "Remember how he was out with his cop friends last night? He drank too much beer and felt guilty this morning."

"So you threw me out?" Stiles asks but Derek is relieved that there's no accusation behind it. It's always good to know that he's trusted with the only family member Stiles has left.

It's the same as how he feels about Cora and Peter. The rest of the pack might not understand but Derek will be eternally grateful that Stiles is kind to Peter when he can. That he spends time with him, in a purely friendly manner and Derek doesn't have to worry about growing lonely.

"Your father wasn't in the right mind to discuss his emotions. I didn't want to make it worse, so I intervened before your dad would say something you would misunderstand."

Stiles carefully relaxes. He leans against the doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest. He studies his sleeping father, no doubt smelling what happened here in the last hours. Derek's scent is overwhelming, clinging to his father's skin because he hasn't been cleaned up yet.

"It's alright," Stiles finally says. He sighs, "I'd have liked to be informed beforehand but I get why you didn't."

"We will talk about this later. Before we address the subject with your father. All we need to do is make sure he doesn't bury this again," Derek says. Carefully, he adds, "He might yearn for a stricter hand in the future, more often than we are used to."

Stiles frowns. He doesn't like to see his father hurt. But physical pain doesn't equate to the emotional guilt, the fears and the desolate expression he slips into sometimes when he thinks no one is looking.

"If this is what he needs to escape himself and his memories, I'm fine with it," Stiles responds.

Derek gets up and wraps an arm around Stiles' waist. He attempts to ease the uncomfortableness Stiles experiences. It's one thing to play around during sex. It's another if the Sheriff has a long for safety which needs to be fulfilled.

"Stay with him, he will wake up soon. He'll want you there," Derek says and kisses Stiles gently on the side of his neck.