
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/12853986.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Rape/Non-Con, Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Teen_Wolf_(TV)
  Relationship:
      Derek_Hale/Stiles_Stilinski, Minor_or_Background_Relationship(s)
  Character:
      Derek_Hale, Stiles_Stilinski, Melissa_McCall, Alan_Deaton, Erica_Reyes,
      Vernon_Boyd, Isaac_Lahey, Scott_McCall_(Teen_Wolf), Liam_Dunbar, Mason
      Hewitt, Deucalion_(Teen_Wolf)
  Additional Tags:
      Unreliable_Narrator, Infantilism, Dead_Sheriff_Stilinski, Orphan_Stiles
      Stilinski, Kidnapped_Stiles, Stockholm_Syndrome, Touch-Starved_Stiles
      Stilinski, Touch-Starved_Derek, Oral_Fixation, Watersports, Scent
      Marking, Come_Marking, Possessive_Derek, Werewolf_Culture, Past_Child
      Abuse, Full_Shift_Werewolves, Alternate_Universe, Somnophilia, Feeding
      Kink, Butt_Plugs
  Stats:
      Published: 2017-11-29 Updated: 2017-12-01 Chapters: 2/? Words: 10096
****** Even Paradise ******
by TheBadPlace
Summary
     Stiles is stolen from a lonely life and gifted to Derek in order to
     keep him from losing himself to his wolf. Derek doesn't want a human
     in his house, not after what happened with the last human he trusted.
     But there's something about his perfect baby boy that he just can't
     resist.
Notes
     Warning: This story deals with forced infantilism, non-con medical
     procedures, an underage character (Stiles is sixteen when he's taken)
     and a complete and utter lack of consent. Mostly this is just an
     excuse for porn. I will add tags for specific kinks as they come up,
     so keep an eye on the tags if there are things that bother you.
     If you have issues with underage/non-con stories treated as romantic,
     you definitely shouldn't be here. Please remember to take care of
     yourself. Don't read things that you know will upset you. <3
***** Chapter 1 *****
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
          If you go anywhere, even Paradise, you will miss your home.
                                      ~~~
Derek’s an hour into his morning workout when his phone rings. He grunts and
grabs it without bothering to check the caller ID, jaw clenching at the
interruption.
“Hale.”
“Mr. Hale, this is Melissa down at the Center,” a female voice says. “I’m
calling to let you know that we’ve recently acquired a baby who meets your
specifications.”
Derek bites back a groan at the news. Of all the ways he could have been
interrupted, this is probably the last one he’d pick. He’s been registered at
the Center since he was taken in by the Commune as an omega, but not because he
particularly wants to be. He’s registered because it’s mandatory, and he knows
his resistance to the process is starting to make the Were Council antsy.
He’s so resistant, in fact, that he’s made his specifications impossible to
meet. Except apparently he didn’t do a good enough job if they’re claiming to
have found him a match.
“All my specifications?” he asks, hoping for a reason to refuse even so much as
a courtesy visit in order to reject this so-called match.
“All of the important ones,” she says in a voice that brooks no argument. “He’s
the right age, with the right coloring, and no one will be looking for him.”
“You’re sure?” Derek demands, voice sharp, because honestly that’s the most
important detail, as far as Derek’s concerned.
“He’s all alone in the world, Mr. Hale,” she answers, her voice softening in
sympathy, maybe.
Derek feels the tug in his gut at the thought, because he knows exactly what
it’s like to be all alone without anyone to miss him. That’s how it was before
he found his way to the Commune, with his family dead and no one to care if he
lived or died except the hunters who were trying to kill him.
He’s still mostly alone, keeping to himself even within the safe walls of the
Commune. It’s the main reason he doesn’t want to comply with the Commune’s rule
about keeping a human, even though he knows from his own experiences with pack
life that humans are just as grounding as the Council claims they are.
The trouble is that humans are also dangerous, and after one of them used him
to kill his entire family he doesn’t know how he could ever trust one again.
Derek’s fairly sure that’s the reason the Council hasn’t pressured him much so
far, but it’s been six months and the longer he spends alone in his cabin in
the woods, the more their patience runs thin.
“Fine, I’ll stop in this afternoon to take a look,” Derek says, resigned to the
fact that he’s at least going to have to meet a human today, if not take one
home.
“Wonderful,” Melissa says, her voice brightening instantly. “We’ll be here
waiting.”
Derek sighs as he hangs up his cell and drops it back on the coffee table. He
runs his hands over his face, blowing out a sharp breath before he tries to
refocus on getting through another hour of push-ups. He only makes it twenty-
five minutes before he growls and pushes himself off the floor too roughly,
ignoring the gauges his claws leave in the wood.
He stands up and marches into his bedroom, tearing through his closet a little
too roughly in search of something a little more appropriate than sweatpants
and a sweaty tank top to wear to meet someone he has no intention of bringing
home.
Twenty minutes later he’s showered and dressed in dark jeans and a forest green
Henley. His mother used to buy him a lot of clothes in this particular shade of
green, insisting it brought out the color of his eyes. He has no idea if that’s
true or not, but the memory doesn’t hurt as much as some of the others, so he
tends to gravitate toward it these days.
He pauses at the front door, debating whether or not he can get away with
running all the way to the Center. It’s not that far, just in the center of
town, and he’d prefer a run through the woods to driving. But if he shows up on
foot they’ll know he has no intention of taking this seriously, and he really
needs to keep the Council off his back for as long as possible. That means
playing along, pretending there’s a chance he’ll go home with his very own
human today.
In the end he rolls his eyes at himself and grabs his car keys, then he shuts
the cabin door behind him and jogs down the porch steps to his car.
The Center isn’t the only place in the Commune to get a human. The Council also
hosts a yearly mating run, with humans who know about the supernatural and
volunteer to live among werewolves. Some of them are unmated humans who grew up
in packs, some of them are just people looking for someplace to belong, kind of
like Derek when he first turned up at the Commune.
But Derek knows he could never trust a human who volunteered to be here of
their own free will. He couldn’t live with someone like that under his roof,
sleeping with one eye open and just waiting for the day his so-called mate
turns on him the same way that Kate did. The Council must have known he
couldn’t handle a mate, because they more than encouraged him to choose the
Center when they stipulated that in order to stay in the Commune, he had to
take in a human eventually.
“It will keep you from spending all your time in your fur,” Deucalion had said
when Derek scoffed at the idea. “Having another life completely dependent on
you will help you hold onto your human side. And if you can’t do that, I’m
afraid you and I both know what that means for you, Derek.”
He scowls at the memory and pulls into a parking spot outside the Center. It’s
a nondescript one-story building, white with blue shutters to make it look more
inviting. To Derek it looks like torture, but the Council doesn’t care how much
he doesn’t want to do this. So Derek forces himself out of his car and climbs
the few steps up to the front of the building, bracing himself before he opens
the door and steps into the small reception area.
As soon as he steps inside the receptionist looks up, a polite smile on her
face. “Mr. Hale, we weren’t expecting you so soon. I’ll let Melissa know you’re
here.”
He’s not surprised that she knows exactly who he is. What happened to his
family is a warning tale told throughout the supernatural community, and there
have been more than a few curious stares directed at him since he came to live
at the Commune. It’s the reason he hardly ever leaves his house, unless it’s to
go running deep in the woods where most of the weres in the community don’t
bother to venture.
Derek nods his thanks and takes a seat, doing his best to ignore the framed
photos on the walls of happy werewolf parents holding their brand new babies.
This option for choosing a human is generally reserved for new couples, people
who haven’t had cubs of their own yet but still want a ‘baby’ around to dote
on. And when they do have their own children, the human grows up alongside
them, at least to a certain point. Everyone chooses where to stop the human’s
maturity based on their own needs, but Derek’s been assured that the doctors in
the Commune can do pretty much anything.
He’d asked, when they first told him about the adoption program, where they get
the humans they adopt out. The answers were frustratingly vague, but he’d been
assured that the doctors could help him keep his charge as helpless and
dependent as he needs for as long as he likes. There’s no chance of any ‘baby’
adopted from the Center turning on him, waiting until he falls asleep and then
setting his house alight and running off through the woods. Any baby he takes
home will be more or less immobile, at least in the beginning, completely at
his mercy.
The thought stirs something dark in Derek, but he reminds himself again that
the human he’s come here to meet isn’t Kate. He’s nothing like Kate, and from
the brief description he’s been given, he’s just as alone in the world as
Derek. There’s no one for him to reach out to, no one to come looking for him,
and that means Derek can do whatever he wants and there will be no one to
complain about it.
Of course, if he kills the kid the Council would probably frown on it, and then
he’d get even more stares when he does go into town. So he promises himself
that he’ll keep his anger toward humans and the world in general under tight
control, at least as long as it takes to look at the human and tell this
Melissa that he’s not good enough.
He’s only been waiting a few minutes when the door next to the reception window
opens, and a woman with dark hair and a kind smile steps out. “Mr. Hale, I’m
Melissa McCall. Thank you so much for coming.”
He doesn’t bother pointing out that he didn’t really have a choice. Instead he
nods and stands, wiping his hands on his jean-clad thighs before he holds one
out to her. “Derek, please.”
“Of course,” she says with another sunny smile. “Why don’t we go talk in my
office for a few minutes? You can look over Stiles’ file and I’ll take you in
to meet him.”
“Stiles?”
“A nickname, of course,” Melissa says, glancing over her shoulder as she leads
him into a small, tidy office. “His real name is a bit of a mouthful, so he
seems to have adopted an abbreviated version of his last name. Of course, you
can call him whatever you like, he’ll adjust quickly. I have to say I’ve never
seen a human take to the program as well as he has. It’s almost as though he
was desperate for someone to take care of him.”
Derek’s heart clenches at her words, but he tries to keep the emotion off his
face as she hands him a thick file. He flips it open, his gaze falling on a
single photograph clipped to the inside front cover. It’s obviously been taken
from a distance and far above the boy in the picture, as though the
photographer was on a roof, maybe. This Stiles is young, with pale skin dotted
with beauty marks, hair tousled by the wind and drowning in a too-big hoodie
that looks as though it’s seen a lot of wear.
He’s mostly turned away from the camera, but the sunlight catches his eyes in
such a way that they seem to glow beta gold. Derek frowns and looks up at
Melissa to find her giving him a knowing smile. “How?”
“This boy was carefully selected for you,” she answers, then she pushes another
paper across the desk toward him. He looks down to see the list of
specifications he’d laid out, the ones he’d thought would be impossible to
meet. “The Council is well aware of your...difficulties in accepting a human.
They’re perfectly understandable, but they were determined to find exactly the
right baby for you. I believe Deucalion himself has been overseeing the
search.”
“How can no one be looking for him?” Derek asks, glancing down at the picture
again. “He’s so beautiful.”
“His mother died when he was just a boy, and his father seems to have followed
not too long ago. Before that the father was, by all accounts, a violent drunk.
Stiles entered the foster care program roughly a year ago. The home he was
taken from hasn’t even reported yet that he’s missing, most likely because the
checks they get for his support will stop as soon as the foster care system
realizes he’s no longer under their roof.”
She sounds as disgusted as Derek feels. He flips through the file, eyes
catching details here and there about Stiles’ life before the Council had him
taken. With each detail he finds it harder and harder not to let his claws out,
wanting to tear through everyone who’s ever hurt this kid he’s never even seen
before. Derek has no idea why he feels so protective of him; he’s just a human,
after all, just one more kid lost in a system that was never designed to
protect them.
But Stiles is sixteen, the same age Derek was when his family was murdered, and
if Melissa’s right about the way he’s accepted what’s happening to him now, he
really does need someone. It’s confusing and a little terrifying to realize
he’s actually considering going through with this, but he knows they’re going
to make him choose a human eventually, whether he likes it or not. Shouldn’t it
be one who was so carefully selected, just for him?
Derek swallows a sigh and picks up his list of specifications again. She’s
right that they’ve managed to meet all the important ones. Stiles is sixteen,
exactly the age he was looking for, and he’s got no one out there to claim him,
just like Derek. He’s got dark hair and amber eyes, and when they catch the
light just right they look like beta eyes.
That particular specification Derek threw in just because he knew it would be
impossible to meet. He’s honestly half-expecting to meet Stiles for the first
time and find that they’ve doctored the picture somehow, especially since he
knows Stiles will be asleep when Derek first sees him. If that’s the case he
should refuse on principle, but as he scans the list and realizes how many of
his frivolous demands are checked off, he knows he won’t.
“A beauty mark on his left cheek and another near his ear,” Melissa says, and
Derek blushes and looks up.
“I was…”
“Trying to make sure you were impossible to match, I know,” she finishes for
him, not unkindly. “Like I said, your reluctance is understandable. But between
you and me, Deucalion never backs down from a challenge.”
Derek rolls his eyes and ignores the blush creeping into his cheeks. He
probably should have realized how transparent he was being, or at the very
least tried a little harder to pretend enthusiasm. What’s done is done, though,
and Melissa looks more amused than annoyed.
“Now,” she says, clapping her hands together, “I’ve been instructed not to let
you leave here without at least meeting Stiles in person. But something tells
me it won’t be as much of a struggle as we expected.”
She winks and stands up to lead him back down the hall, further away from the
reception area until they come to a closed door. Derek knows what happens now;
the process was explained to him when they coerced him into registering with
the Center, about the receiving rooms where parents first meet their potential
babies. They’re completely sanitized, free of any smells other than the baby
itself, so that the potential parents can get a totally undiluted scent.
Derek knows that this can make or break the whole process. Because of their
heightened senses, if any given person smells wrong, there’s no way they’ll be
able to live under the same roof. It had been Derek’s plan, if all else failed,
to walk into the receiving room, spend a couple seconds pretending to scent the
kid, and then announce he smelled all wrong and leave empty-handed.
Now he’s not sure whether or not he’s hoping the kid smells right, and that’s
more terrifying than anything.
Melissa smiles like she knows what he’s thinking and reaches out to rest a hand
on his arm. “I’ll give you some privacy. He’s still asleep, but the sedatives
will wear off in an hour or so. Just go in there, scent him, and if you feel
like he’s the one, mark him. There are fresh diapers right on the shelf, and a
comfortable chair if you need to take a little extra time. When you’re done,
you can both come find me, or you can leave him where he is and find me alone.”
He knows what she’s saying. If Derek decides to go through with this, if he
actually marks this defenseless little human, there’s no way he’ll be able to
let Stiles out of his sight even long enough to track down Melissa. So if he
decides to take Stiles home, he’ll bring Stiles with him when he finds her to
finish the final paperwork. The thought makes his hands shake a little as he
nods and reaches for the doorknob, then he slips inside the dimly lit room and
shuts it behind him.
For a full minute he stands just inside the door, letting the scents of the
hallway and Melissa’s brief touch float away until it’s just him again. Only
then does he let himself take in the room, the adult-sized changing table on
one side and an oversize bassinet in the corner. There’s a soft rocking chair
next to the bassinet, and Derek holds his breath as he walks across the room to
look down at the unconscious form lying there.
He breathes in deep, inhaling the scents of fresh grass and cinnamon with a
vague hint of citrus. It soothes him instantly, and before he knows what he’s
doing he reaches out to run his fingers along the boy's pink cheek. He's even
got the damn beauty marks, and Derek swallows a laugh when he realizes exactly
how far Deucalion had gone to make sure he wouldn't refuse.
“Look at you,” Derek murmurs, fingers sliding along pink lips, and when the
baby lets out a little cooing sound and tries to suck one of Derek’s fingers
into his mouth, he lets the tip of his thumb slip in to touch a wet tongue.
Instantly Stiles starts sucking, the sensation going straight to Derek’s dick,
and he knows there’s no way he’s leaving here without this human. “You’re just
perfect, aren’t you?”
At the sound of his voice Stiles stirs, lips smacking against Derek’s thumb
before he lets it slip from his slack mouth. His eyes flutter open, just for a
second, but it’s long enough for Derek to catch a glimpse of amber. It’s enough
to know they hadn’t doctored the picture at all, and somehow Derek had managed
to describe the perfect human without even trying.
Once Stiles closes his eyes and settles back into sleep Derek slides his hands
under his warm body and lifts him out of the bassinet, careful to support his
head. The blanket he’s been wrapped in falls back into the bed, and Derek sees
that he’s undressed except for a diaper. He takes a moment to admire all that
pale skin and the beauty marks that go even further down than Derek hoped, then
he carries Stiles over to the changing table and sets him down.
He’s even more perfect laid out like this, pale skin on display and his little
eyelids fluttering in some dream. Derek runs a hand down his pale chest, over
his flat stomach to trace the beauty marks along one side. He traces his hands
over Stiles’ thighs, marveling at how smooth and hairless he is. He knows it’s
because of whatever treatments the doctors give him to de-age him, but he
hadn’t counted on it turning him on so much.
He’s a little thin, and Derek wonders just how much worse it was before the
Council got their hands on him. Anger wells up in him again, at the father who
didn’t deserve to call himself that, and at the foster parents who clearly
didn’t care. But Stiles is his now, and Derek’s going to make sure no one ever
hurts him again.
Derek takes a breath and reaches for the diaper, opening the tape and pulling
it away to reveal the last bit of his baby boy. His breath leaves him in a
rush, and he feels his fangs trying to come out with the nearly overwhelming
need to claim. He breathes in, then again through his nose, slowly pulling his
wolf back in. It’s a struggle, but he finally manages to get himself under
control.
When he’s sure he’s not going to pop claws and ruin everything by maiming his
baby he reaches out, a gentle hand cupping Stiles’ dick and balls. He’s a
decent size, a little more than a handful even soft, and the complete lack of
hair somehow makes it even better. Derek has no idea what that says about him,
and he doesn’t really care. All he cares about is the fact that this boy is
his, and no one’s ever going to take him away.
He can tell Stiles is untouched, smells the innocence of youth still clinging
to him that wouldn’t be there if someone else had gotten their hands on him
first. He’d worried, when he heard his baby had spent an entire year in foster
care, but now he’s almost grateful for the drunk father who probably kept him
so cowed he didn’t have much of a chance at a life before.
Derek leans in anyway, one hand wrapped around both Stiles’ slender ankles to
lift his legs off the table and expose his pucker. He presses his nose right
against it, breathing in deep, and when Stiles lets out a soft sigh he smiles
and slides his tongue across it before he sets him back down on the table.
“My beautiful baby,” Derek murmurs, one hand cupping Stiles’ round ass for a
second before he reluctantly pulls away. “So perfect for me.”
He’s half hard just from a few minutes with his perfect baby, and Derek wants
to come on him, to rub his seed into Stiles’ skin and mark him that way. It’s
not technically forbidden, having a sexual relationship with the humans from
the Center. After all, as Stiles’ daddy, Derek’s going to be in charge of
taking care of all his needs. Still, he knows most of the parents of human
babies are happily mated, so they order special toys or use their hands to take
care of any biological urges.
Derek already knows that’s not how his relationship with his baby is going to
be, but he doesn’t want to announce it to the whole world before he even gets
Stiles home. Most of the Commune already thinks there’s something wrong with
him, that he’s damaged from the fire and the loss of his pack. He doesn’t want
them calling him a deviant behind his back too, at least not as long as he can
help it.
So he lowers the changing table with the special lever on the side, just like
they explained when he got his initial tour of the Center, until Stiles’
perfect little ass is lined up with Derek’s dick. For marking purposes, they’d
said during the tour, because humans need to be marked on a regular basis. Most
of them shouldn’t be wandering around on their own, but in the terrifying event
that one got lost or wandered off, they needed to be marked as a were’s
property to stop them from being harmed by another member of the Commune.
Still, the whole explanation had been delivered with a wink, which tells Derek
that satisfying the human babies’ biological urges firsthand isn’t quite as
unusual as everyone pretends. He reins in the urge to come on his baby anyway,
promising himself that he’ll save that pleasure for later, when they’re safe at
home.
Home where he doesn’t have a single thing a baby needs, he realizes belatedly,
his heart sinking at how unprepared he is to take care of his human. Most of
the parents who come to the Center are so gungho about the process that they’re
ready months in advance, with a whole nursery set up and boxes of diapers and
toys. Derek’s been so resistant to the process he doesn’t have so much as a can
of formula.
The guilt kills his erection, at least, so he pushes the problem aside for now
and reaches down to unzip his jeans. He pulls his dick out and uses his other
hand to lift Stiles’ legs again, just a little this time so he can aim for his
balls and his little pucker at the same time. It only takes a few seconds for
the stream of warm piss to start flowing, covering Stiles’ soft dick and making
it stir in his sleep.
Derek smiles at that, watching as his piss runs down Stiles’ thighs and ass to
soak into the diaper under him. When he’s done Derek sets his legs down again,
then he tucks himself back into his jeans before he reaches for a cloth to pat
the baby dry. When Derek swipes over his little hole Stiles sighs again, his
dick swelling a little more, and Derek rubs his thumb over the head and smiles
when his baby’s hips twitch into his touch.
“So responsive,” he murmurs, but he forces himself to let go and deals with the
sodden diaper and the cloth. There’s a stack of fresh diapers right where
Melissa said he’d find them, and when Derek’s finished taping Stiles into his
new diaper he pats the front where his little dick is still showing signs of
interest. “Just wait until we get home, sweetheart, and Daddy will take care of
everything.”
He picks up the plain blue onesie someone obviously laid out for him, carefully
working Stiles’ pliant limbs into it and zipping him in. He knows already that
his boy’s not going to spend much time with anything more than a diaper on, but
it’s getting a little chilly out, and he doesn’t want to bring him outside
without at least some protection.
It’s tempting to sit in the chair and rock him for awhile now that he’s clean
and dressed and smells like Derek. He doesn’t have a rocker at home — doesn’t
even have a crib — but the part of Derek that just wants to get him home where
they can be alone wins out. He picks up his baby and cradles him carefully
against his chest, running his fingers over a soft cheek one more time before
he opens the door and carries Stiles down the hall to Melissa’s office.
She’s sitting at her desk when he pokes his head in, and when he knocks she
looks up and smiles ear to ear at the sight of him holding Stiles. “So you’ve
made your decision.”
Derek nods and looks down at the boy sleeping against his chest. “I couldn’t
resist.”
“Don’t know why you’d bother to try. He’s such an angel.”
“He really is.”
When he finally looks up again Melissa’s smiling fondly, and Derek can’t help
smiling back. It’s the first time since he got to the Commune that he’s really
felt like he’s part of something, and he wants to laugh, because this is
exactly what Deucalion tried to convince him would happen.
“There are just a few papers to sign,” Melissa says, “then you can take your
little one home.”
Derek winces at the reminder and clutches his boy just a little closer. “I
don’t have anything for him. I don’t even have a car seat.”
Melissa smiles again, some exasperation sneaking in with the fondness.
“Everything’s been taken care of. Deucalion was confident you’d change your
mind once you met him.”
Derek’s not sure how to feel about his cabin being invaded while he’s not
there, but after a moment he decides to go with grateful. He really did have
nothing, and one of the plus sides of living in a huge pack like the one that
makes up the Commune means there are people to pick up his slack whether he
wants them to or not.
He nods and grants her a small smile, then he takes a seat, careful not to
jostle his baby when he moves. He signs everywhere she tells him, barely
glancing at each page because he doesn’t care what they say as long as Stiles
is his forever.
When he finally finishes Melissa gathers the pages and smiles at him in a way
that reminds him painfully of his mother. “Now, if you have any questions or
concerns at all, call me. That’s what I’m here for.”
He nods and they both stand up, then he follows her down the hall and back into
the reception area where there’s a car seat waiting by the door. Derek raises
an eyebrow and Melissa smirks.
“Deucalion was very confident.”
Derek just rolls his eyes and picks up the car seat with his free hand. He
doesn’t argue when Melissa follows him out to his car, because he has no idea
how to install a car seat. His father’s Camaro isn’t ideal, but together they
manage to get Stiles strapped in securely.
When he straightens up Melissa places her hand on his arm again, and for some
reason the motherly gesture makes his throat close up a little. “I’m so happy
for you, Derek. You deserve this.”
“Thank you,” he says, because he doesn’t deserve it, but he’s going to take it
anyway.
“I meant what I said. Call if you have any questions at all. I know how
overwhelming it can be in the beginning, especially on your own. And when
you’re ready for play dates, I can help you there too. My son and his mate have
a little one of their own.”
Derek nods and lets her squeeze his arm one last time, then he ducks into his
car before she gives in to the hug he can tell she’s fighting. Once she heads
back inside with a final wave Derek takes a deep breath, then he looks in the
rear view mirror to watch Stiles sleeping. His heart clenches as he breathes in
their mingled scents, and he feels something in him settle in a way it hasn’t
since the fire.
“It’s just you and me now, baby boy,” he says, and when Stiles mumbles in his
sleep, Derek smiles and points the Camaro toward home.
Chapter End Notes
     Warnings for this chapter: Non-con touching, implied drugging, forced
     infantilism, watersports, discussion of come marking.
***** Chapter 2 *****
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
By the time they get home the cabin’s been turned into some kind of baby
paradise. There are toys everywhere, a line of clean bottles drying next to the
sink and cans of formula stacked next to them. Derek bristles at the scent of
strangers still in the air, but he’s grateful they at least didn’t try to stick
around for some kind of welcome home party.
He snuggles his baby a little closer, pressing his nose to Stiles’ hair and
breathing in his sweet scent before he wanders into the cabin’s only bedroom to
find a crib set up next to the bed. It feels strange, knowing other weres have
been in his bedroom, but he has to admit it’s nice to have someplace to put
Stiles down for his naps. He’s not sure yet whether or not he’ll keep his baby
in bed with him at night, but it’s good to have the option.
Right now he doesn’t even want to set his boy down long enough to take off his
jacket, though. Stiles’ weight feels so good pressed against him, the touch
awaking long-forgotten instincts and making him wish he hadn’t bothered with
the onesie after all. He wants to feel Stiles’ skin against his, warm and soft
and so perfect Derek’s almost breathless with it.
There’s a changing table set up under the bedroom window, one of the adjustable
ones like they have at the Center. Derek settles his sweet baby on the thick
pad, then he slides off his jacket and tosses it toward the bed. He doesn’t
look to see where it lands. He doesn’t have eyes for anything but Stiles right
now, and he’s honestly not sure he ever will again.
He carefully works Stiles’ limbs back out of his onesie, setting it aside
before he turns back to his boy. His breathing has gotten a little more shallow
and he’s starting to make more noises, breathy murmurs that make Derek smile.
He knows Stiles won’t be able to talk even once he’s awake, but he’s still
looking forward to hearing what he sounds like when he babbles for real. He
can’t wait to see his baby’s first smile, or watch those amber eyes glisten
when they fill with tears for the first time.
A thrill runs down his spine at the thought, but Derek shakes it off and pulls
Stiles’ diaper off. He’s not going to make his sweet boy cry, not on purpose,
no matter how much the thought appeals to part of him. That’s the part that
will always rage against Kate and the injustice of her escaping after what she
did to his family. He should have killed her, should have made her pay for her
crime, but by the time he realized what was happening she was already in the
wind.
For years he tracked her, always just a few steps behind, and he nearly got
himself killed by other hunters a time or two because of it. After his last
near-fatal dose of wolfsbane he had to give up the chase, to admit that he
wasn’t going to get his revenge, not by hunting her down like the animal she’s
always thought he was.
It was a group of scouts from the Commune that found him and saved him from
certain death, and when Deucalion offered him a place as long as he let go of
his vendetta, Derek agreed. For the past six months he’s kept to himself,
wondering if he made the right choice or if he should have just stayed out
there and gotten himself killed, just so he could be with his family again. But
now, standing here looking down at this helpless human, watching his eyelids
flutter as he starts to wake up, Derek knows he made the right choice.
He leans in close and presses a kiss to Stiles’ flat tummy, then another to the
creamy skin just above his cock. He loves how smooth Stiles is, can’t get
enough of touching his baby soft skin as Stiles sighs and squirms a little
under his hands. Derek presses his nose to the crease of Stiles’ groin and
breathes in the scents of boy musk and innocence and his own piss, the
combination making his head spin as he opens his mouth to taste the skin there.
Bitter salt bursts on his tongue and he lets his fangs drop, just enough to
scrape against pale skin without breaking the surface. He wants to mark his
boy, to claim him permanently, but he knows it’s too soon for that. If they’d
met during the mating run Derek would have claimed him already, but this is a
different situation. Even other weres probably won’t understand Derek’s need to
own Stiles, to have him completely under Derek’s power in every way imaginable.
So he pulls the wolf back, fangs receding as he presses soft kisses down the
warm skin of Stiles’ inner thighs. His hands part his boy’s legs, holding them
open and lifting a little so he can get another look at his perfect ass. He
uses his thumbs to spread Stiles’ cheeks until his hole is revealed, dusky pink
and untouched.
Derek’s cock jerks at the thought, already hard and standing proud, and it’s
hard to resist the urge to take Stiles right now. He’s still out of it enough
that he’d probably sleep through Derek pushing inside and fucking him open, and
by the time he was aware enough to feel any pain Derek would have pulled the
soreness out of him already.
He reaches down to free his cock from his jeans, squeezes the hard length and
feels it pulse in his hand before he shuffles forward another few inches and
runs the head over his baby’s little hole, leaving behind a glossy trail of
precome. He doesn’t push inside, no matter how tempting the thought is. Instead
he runs his thumb through the moisture, working it around his boy’s rim until
his pucker flutters for him.
As if he’s asking to be filled, even though he’s never been touched that way
before. Then again, maybe his baby’s experimented on his own before, sucked his
long, lovely fingers until they’re good and wet and pushed them inside, just to
see how it would feel. He’s never going to touch himself like that again, of
course, but Derek likes to imagine it anyway, his boy in the dark somewhere,
lonely and waiting for his daddy to come and rescue him, filling himself up so
he won’t feel so alone.
Derek’s cock jumps in his grip and he groans, stroking with more purpose now.
He pictures his baby working his fingers at an awkward angle, trying so hard to
find that magic spot that only his daddy will ever touch. It only takes a few
more strokes before Derek feels the pressure building in his groin, and he
points his cock at his baby’s hole and lets go. Come spurts out of him in thick
ropes, over Stiles’ dick and sliding down past his balls. He runs his fingers
through it as he strokes himself through the end of his orgasm, rubbing his
seed into Stiles’ thighs and chasing it down his crack to rub some more into
his hole.
The smell of his come on Stiles’ skin helps his wolf settle, so Derek keeps
rubbing the cooling liquid into his boy. He uses his come to ease the way as he
breaches his baby’s pucker with the tip of one finger, gently working in to the
first knuckle before he pulls back out again. He gathers more come on his
finger and slides it back in, and this time Stiles’ muscles clench hard around
him, a confused sound escaping him even as his body tries to draw his daddy
further inside.
Derek looks up to find sleepy amber eyes blinking up at him, his heart melting
at the sight of his baby truly awake for the first time. He works his finger in
little circles until Stiles relaxes just a bit, his little cock twitching
against his stomach as Derek works him open.
“Hi, sweetheart,” Derek says, keeping his voice soft. “Are you ready for Daddy
to make you feel good?”
His brain tells him he should be embarrassed to be talking about himself in the
third person this way, but it feels right, and when Stiles smiles up at him for
the first time he decides that nothing can be wrong with what he’s doing right
now. Derek smiles back, his heart pounding with love for this boy he didn’t
even know existed until today.
He keeps moving his finger in tiny circles as he closes his other hand around
Stiles’ cock, thumb teasing his slit and watching as pink lips form a little
‘o’ of pleasure or surprise, or maybe both. His baby’s eyes flutter closed and
his lips stay parted, and Derek knows sometime soon he’s going to push his cock
past them and let his baby suckle on his daddy’s dick.
Derek’s cock stirs with renewed interest but he ignores it, focusing his
attention on learning which touches make his baby mewl and sigh and push up
into his touch. His ass is hungry, pulling Derek’s finger in to the second
knuckle, then rocking in time with the hand moving on his dick. Derek imagines
what it will feel like when it’s his cock surrounded by that tight heat and
feels a little more seed dribble out of his head even though he just came
harder than he has in ages.
It’s tempting to find out exactly how it would feel right now, but he likes the
idea of training Stiles even more. If he takes his time and stretches him, uses
toys to help him learn how to take his daddy’s cock, it will be that much
better when he finally slides inside his perfect boy for the first time.
Stiles is panting, cheeks flushed and back arched, and Derek twists the finger
inside of him just a little, making him come up off the changing pad with a
surprised little mewl. He can tell how close his boy is, so Derek leans over
and closes his lips around the head of his baby dick, cheeks hollowed as he
sucks until Stiles grunts and spills against his tongue.
Derek pulls off to look down at the body underneath him, watching the way he
shakes with the aftermath of his orgasm and the pink flush spreading across his
chest and thighs. He chases the heat with his free hand, then he looks up to
find Stiles watching him with wide eyes.
“My perfect boy,” Derek says, leaning over to press a soft kiss against his
baby’s lips. His tongue darts out to hold his boy’s mouth open, letting him
taste himself on his daddy as he kisses him for the first time.
It’s clear Stiles has never been kissed before. He doesn’t have any finesse at
all, but he’s enthusiastic, and the rest Derek can teach him. He pulls back
with one last soft brush of lips, smiling down at his baby. His finger’s still
buried inside Stiles, and he wiggles it a little just to hear him grunt and
then let out a little giggle. The sound makes Derek’s heart thump painfully,
and he eases his finger free and presses a kiss to Stiles’ forehead this time.
“Daddy loves you so much,” he whispers. “I’m going to take care of you
forever.”
Promise made, he straightens up and reaches for the wipes someone left on top
of the changing table. “Now, you must be a hungry boy. Let’s get you cleaned up
and then we’ll see about finding you something to eat.”
Stiles makes a happy little gurgling noise, and Derek decides to take it as
agreement. He smiles as he wipes the rest of his come off his baby’s skin, then
he tosses the wipes and the old diaper in the trash. It’s tempting to ditch the
diaper altogether so he can feel his boy’s little dick pressed against him
while he carries him, but he knows that’s just asking to get peed on. Then
again, he’s not sure how much he’d really mind that. He belongs to Stiles as
much as Stiles belongs to him, after all, and he wouldn’t mind wearing his
baby’s mark.
He puts a fresh diaper on anyway, then he strips out of his jeans and henley,
leaving him in just his boxer briefs. He reaches down to adjust his erection
before he turns back to the changing table, hands sliding under his boy to lift
him up against Derek’s chest. His baby’s bare skin feels perfect against him,
round bottom cupped in one hand and his head resting on Derek’s shoulder.
He doesn’t have enough control of his limbs to move his arms on his own, so
Derek helps him wrap thin arms around his neck before he walks them both out to
the kitchen. When they get there Derek spots a high chair for the first time,
set up next to the small table where he sometimes eats his meals. Most of the
time he just sits on the couch in front of the TV, but now that he has a baby
to think about he’ll probably be using the table a lot more often.
Stiles doesn’t have enough muscle control to sit up in a high chair yet,
though, and he wonders vaguely where he can find one of those reclining baby
seats in Stiles’ size. For now Derek supposes he’ll just have to hold his boy
while he feeds him, not that that’s a hardship.
“Let’s get some food in that tummy,” he says, running a hand up and down
Stiles’ back while he moves past the table into the kitchen proper. He reaches
for a can of formula and reads the directions, frowning at the mention of low-
fluoride water and wondering if it actually matters, considering his baby was
eating solid food up until the Council found him.
He wonders if it would taste better mixed with milk, then he remembers that he
hasn’t forced himself out of the house to go grocery shopping in too long. When
it was just him he was happy to run the woods in his fur, hunting game and
eating it raw. But now he’s got another life depending on him, and that means
he’s going to have to start acting more like a person.
Derek sighs and presses a kiss to the side of his boy’s neck before he pulls
the fridge door open, blinking in surprise when he takes in the fully stocked
fridge. Not only is there a full gallon of milk, but there’s juice and
vegetables and what looks like good cuts of steak. Later he’ll probably be
pissed that Deucalion’s been keeping close enough tabs on him to know that he
hasn’t been grocery shopping in nearly a month, but for right now he just grabs
the milk and walks back over to the counter.
“You want to try this with some milk, sweet boy?” he asks, smiling when Stiles
makes an inquisitive noise against his shoulder. He has a feeling the sedative
they gave him is going to make him sleepy for the rest of the day, but that’s
okay with Derek. His only plan for the afternoon was another workout, and he’s
happy to skip it in favor of giving all his attention to his boy.
Derek mixes up the formula with some bottled water according to the directions
on the can, then he tops off the bottle with the milk. It’s two percent, which
isn’t what he would have chosen, but it’s better than nothing. Still, when it’s
time to buy more milk he’s going to stick with whole for a while, at least
until Stiles gets some more meat on his bones.
He likes the idea of feeding his boy up, showering him with treats and calorie-
dense foods until he’s got a little layer of baby fat instead of the skin and
bones he is right now. He wants to be able to tickle a soft belly, to run his
hands over chubby thighs and to see the creases in his baby’s cheeks when he
smiles up at his daddy. His dick likes the idea too, chubbing up in his
underwear, and Derek has a feeling he’s going to spend a lot of time hard from
now on.
But there’s nothing he can do about his dick or Stiles’ weight right now, so he
puts the milk away and then he picks up the bottle and carries it and Stiles to
the living room.
Once they’re settled on the couch he shifts Stiles until he’s lying across
Derek’s lap, head supported in the crook of his elbow. He blinks up at Derek,
completely trusting, and Derek’s amazed all over again at how lucky he is.
Melissa had said he took to the transition easily, but Derek was still half
expecting Stiles to freak out when he woke up alone with a stranger. Stiles
seems to think he’s right where he belongs, though, almost like he knows as
well as Derek that they were meant to find each other.
He knows it’s possible there will still be a meltdown sometime down the road,
when Stiles starts to age up a little and stops existing in the moment so much.
He might start to remember things from his old life, and when that happens
sometimes there’s rebellion or tantrums or even actual fear, according to the
people at the Center. When it happens they sometimes recommend regression, just
to help the baby find peace with their situation again. Derek wouldn’t really
mind keeping him regressed, especially when it means Stiles would continue
being completely dependent on him for everything.
But for now he looks utterly peaceful, as though he can’t remember a time when
he wasn’t safe in Derek’s arms. The thought makes Derek smile, and he leans
over to press another soft kiss to his boy’s forehead before he reaches for the
bottle.
“Let’s get you fed, sweetheart,” he says, then he rubs the nipple against pink
lips until Stiles opens his mouth and starts to suck.
His dick throbs at the sight, and he adjusts his hold on his baby until Stiles’
ass is seated firmly against it. The weight feels nice, even with his underwear
and Stiles’ diaper between them. He imagines feeding his boy this way with
Derek’s dick buried inside him, rocking up gently as he holds Stiles close and
biting his lip against a moan.
He keeps moving his hips in a slow, steady rhythm as Stiles drinks his milk,
making little suckling noises and smacking his lips against the nipple when
it’s empty. It makes Derek wish he could nurse, that his baby could just close
his perfect lips around Derek’s own nipple and take whatever he needed any time
he wants.
He knows it’s not possible, and even if the doctors in the Commune could pull
it off, he’s never going to ask. People are already going to think he’s weird,
there’s no way he’s going to let that kind of thing get out about him. Still,
the thought makes his dick throb with the need for release, and Derek looks
down at his boy’s perfect face for a few seconds before he makes a decision.
“You want a little more, baby?” he asks, and when Stiles gurgles up at him he
eases him gently onto the couch and stands up long enough to shuck his
underwear. He didn’t plan on doing this so soon, but his boy looks so sweet
blinking up at him, lips slightly parted, and he just can’t help himself.
Derek kneels next to his baby’s head and presses his thumb to Stiles’ lips
until they part enough to let him in, immediately sucking on the tip of his
thumb while Derek reaches down to stroke himself. He’s so hard at this point
that he knows he won’t last, but that’s okay. He just wants to mark his boy in
as many ways as he can, just so the whole world can tell exactly where Stiles
belongs. When he’s close enough that he has to grip the base of his dick to
hold back his orgasm he pulls his thumb free from Stiles’ sucking mouth, using
his free hand to hold his jaw open as he guides the tip of his cock between
Stiles’ lips instead.
“There you go, baby,” he whispers as those perfect lips close around his head
and start to suck. “Daddy’s got some more milk, just for you.”
It’s a struggle not to fuck into his boy’s mouth, to stuff him full and watch
his eyes start to water as he chokes on his daddy’s cock for the first time.
But Derek doesn’t want to scare him, doesn’t want to lose those sweet smiles or
the tender way Stiles looks up at him as though he’s the answer to all his
baby’s prayers. So Derek holds his hips still and lets Stiles suckle, and even
then he still comes way too fast.
His load is bigger than Stiles can handle, and Derek’s hand circles his throat
to feel it working to swallow everything his daddy’s giving him. He watches as
come dribbles out around his cock head, sliding down his baby’s chin and out of
the corners of his mouth. When he chokes a little Derek pulls his cock free,
then he picks up his boy and holds him against his chest, rubbing his back
while he waits for the coughing to subside.
“You did so good for Daddy,” Derek murmurs, ignoring the come smearing on his
neck and shoulder from where his baby’s rubbing his face against his bare skin.
He doesn’t mind at all, because Stiles is scent marking him just like a wolf
would, and it makes Derek’s own wolf want to howl. “Such a good boy. So perfect
for me.”
Derek’s still kneeling on the floor, Stiles pressed against his chest with his
legs straddling Derek’s thighs. His diaper’s pressed right up against Derek’s
spent cock, so he feels the sudden, heavy moisture almost before he catches the
smell of urine in the air.
“Did my smart boy use his diaper?” Derek says, rubbing Stiles’ round bottom
through his diaper before he lifts his baby back onto the couch. “Let’s get
that nasty thing off before my baby gets a rash.”
He’s kind of surprised at how easily the baby talk comes to him. He’s been
around babies before, of course, but not since he was still a kid himself.
Still, there was his baby sister Cora and all his younger cousins back when he
was still part of a pack, and the care of all of them was pretty much a
community responsibility. Derek’s changed plenty of diapers and fed plenty of
bottles in his day, and apparently he picked up on how to talk to babies in a
soothing voice, too, because the words come out of him now on instinct.
When he pulls the diaper off he finds that his baby’s little dick is standing
at attention again. He’s not sure if it was the act of pissing or the way he
was pressed against Derek that did it, but in the end it doesn’t really matter.
His boy’s body is at that age where it responds to every bit of stimulus, no
matter how small, and Derek’s more than happy to indulge him.
The reason he’d asked for a sixteen-year-old was mainly because that was how
old he was when he lost everything. It was a punishment for himself as much as
wish fulfillment, though he wasn’t thinking of it that way at the time. There
was also the fact that it would be much harder for the Council to find a minor
who could be pulled from his life without anyone noticing, or so he thought at
the time. But now that he sees how responsive Stiles is, the way he coos and
squirms into Derek’s every touch, he couldn’t be more grateful that he’d made
what he thought was an impossible request.
“Does my boy want to feel good again?” He asks, his hands stroking along the
baby-smooth skin of Stiles’ thighs.
He eases his baby’s legs a little further apart and slides two fingers behind
his balls to rub at the taut skin there. The touch makes his little cock jump,
straining like it’s seeking its daddy’s touch all on its own. He likes the
thought that his boy’s body recognizes his touch already, likes thinking that
Stiles was made for this, made for him.
He moves his fingers further down, circling his baby’s pucker as he thinks
about all the ways he can stretch Stiles until he’s ready for Derek’s cock.
He’s big, even for a were, and Derek knows it’s going to take some work before
his boy can take his cock easily. He pictures keeping Stiles stretched open on
a plug, ready to take his daddy’s cock at any given moment, and knows exactly
what toys he’s going to order for his baby first.
When Stiles lets out a sweet little whimper Derek smiles, leaning over to press
a soft kiss to his lips.
“Okay, sweetheart, Daddy knows what you want,” he says, then he closes his hand
around his baby’s dick and begins to stroke.
The noises Stiles makes are positively addicting. He’s panting already, face
and chest flushed and the head of his cock an angry red. Derek slides his thumb
over the slit, gathering the moisture there and using it to ease his grip as he
strokes his boy a little faster. He can tell Stiles is close when his hips
start to rock minutely, his range of motion limited by the fact that his limbs
don’t really work right now. He’s making little grunting sounds, though, heart
pounding fast and a few seconds later he tenses and comes over Derek’s fingers.
Derek keeps stroking him as his body shudders through the last of his orgasm,
finally letting go only when Stiles makes a pained little noise in the back of
his throat. He gathers some of the come from Stiles’ chest and rubs it into his
skin, making little circles on his belly until Stiles giggles breathlessly and
tries to squirm away from him.
“Okay, ticklish boy,” Derek says, grinning as he lets his fingers dance across
his baby’s skin, eliciting another laugh. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”
Instead of going back to the bedroom for a clean cloth he grabs his discarded
boxers off the floor, using the fabric to clean up the rest of Stiles’ come.
Once his boy is dry and more or less clean Derek runs a hand down his chest to
rest against his flat belly, contemplating whether or not they should get in
the bath while they’re both already undressed.
But Derek wants to order some toys before it gets too late, mainly so they’ll
get to him as quickly as possible, and surely if they take a bath now they’ll
just end up needing another one before bed anyway. Decision made, Derek starts
to stand up, intent on letting his boy rest on the couch while he grabs his
laptop and a fresh diaper. As soon as he starts to move away Stiles makes a
distressed sound, amber eyes wide and if Derek’s not imagining it, a little
glossy. Just as Derek suspected, he looks beautiful on the verge of tears, and
he finds himself almost looking forward to his baby’s first real tantrum.
He wonders what it would take to get Stiles to be naughty enough to warrant a
spanking. He’d like to see that round bottom all red and hot from Derek’s hand,
maybe the backs of his thighs too. Stiles’ eyes would fill with tears but he’d
take his punishment so beautifully, and afterwards Derek would sit his baby on
his dick so he could feel the heat of his red bottom against his skin. He’d
kiss him and tell him how sorry he was to have to punish him, then promise to
love Stiles anyway, even when he’s being a bad boy.
“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” he asks, kneeling back down next to the couch and
reaching out to trace Stiles’ trembling lips with the tip of his finger. “You
don’t want to wait here while Daddy gets you a new diaper?”
Stiles makes another disgruntled sound and flexes his little fingers, and
Derek’s heart clenches as he realizes his boy’s trying to reach out for him.
He’s being clingy, just like they talked about at the Center, and when Derek
thinks about Stiles’ past he realizes it’s probably been a long time since he
had someone just to hold him and make him feel safe.
Maybe not since his mother died, which means it’s been years since he had this
kind of affection. They’ve both been alone for way too long, in a world that
didn’t care whether either of them lived or died. It’s not fair, but they have
each other now, and Derek’s never planning to let him go. He pulls Stiles to
him, standing up and cradling his boy against his chest.
“It’s okay, sweetheart. Daddy will never, ever leave you. You belong to me now,
and you’ll never have to be alone again,” he murmurs, pressing kisses against
Stiles’ warm skin as he carries him into the bedroom to get him a fresh diaper.
He can grab the laptop just as easily with Stiles snuggled against him, and
shopping for all the toys he wants to use on his boy will be even more fun with
Stiles perched in his lap like it’s right where he’s always been meant to be.
Chapter End Notes
     Warnings for the chapter: Somnophilia, forced oral sex, penetration
     (finger only this time), discussions of feeding kink, come marking,
     watersports (sort of), obsessive behavior. Derek will have some dark
     thoughts occasionally throughout but none of them will actually
     happen.
     If I haven't warned for something you think I should at any point,
     let me know. Also let me know if there's something you want to see.
     No promises, of course, but I can try. I'm not sure yet how long this
     will be, but I do have a little plot planned in between all the porn.
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