
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/5264423.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Teen_Wolf_(TV)
  Relationship:
      Sheriff_Stilinski/Stiles_Stilinski
  Character:
      Sheriff_Stilinski, Stiles_Stilinski
  Additional Tags:
      Alpha/Beta/Omega_Dynamics, Father/Son_Incest, Alpha_John, Omega_Stiles
      Stilinski, Shota_Stiles_Stilinski, Wet_Clothing, Day_At_The_Beach,
      Obedience, Nipple_Play, Dirty_Talk, Possessive_Behavior, Public_Sex,
      Begging, Anal_Fingering, Self-Lubrication, Voyeurism, Anal_Sex, Top_John,
      Bottom_Stiles_Stilinski, Unsafe_Sex, Size_Difference, mention_of
      gangbang, mention_of_MPREG, Breeding, Knotting, Creampie, Aftercare,
      Post-Coital_Cuddling, Plot_What_Plot/Porn_Without_Plot, Derogatory
      Language
  Stats:
      Published: 2015-12-02 Words: 2109
****** like the crashing of the waves ******
by LilMysterios
Summary
     Stiles is being a cute kid and playing in the sand, only in this fic
     he's a twinky little omega and his soaked-through shirt means he's
     unknowingly ogled by pretty much every alpha on the beach. Obviously,
     his father doesn't really like that, and decides to stake his claim.
     Or, Stiles gets fucked at the beach.
Notes
     As always, everything's in the tags and warnings, so please read them
     carefully. Of course, if you feel something's missing, just tell me
     and I'll add it, no problem.
     This is unbeta'd as well, so if you see any mistake, please tell me
     and I'll fix it?
     In the mean time, enjoy! ;)
See the end of the work for more notes
"Look, daddy! Look what I found!"
John makes all the appropriate cooing noises as his son shows him yet another
batch of the various shells one can find on the beach, and after John has
promised to keep an eye on the precious discoveries, Stiles is off again, all
enthusiastic joy and innocent curiosity.
John, ever the attentive father, doesn't let his gaze stray from his son, and
he watches him as the boy walks alongside the water... but his careful
surveillance doesn't keep John from noticing that he's not the only one eagerly
watching Stiles.
In fact, pretty much every single male on the beach, be it alpha or beta, has
at least one eye trained on John's tiny omega of a son.
But god, Stiles has no idea, has he?
He has no idea how delectable he looks right now, all pale and limber, the
perfect picture of submissive omega boy as he runs around practically naked... 
John, once again, wonders if it was such a good idea to come to the beach
today... but then again, he was never the best at resisting Stiles' big,
pleading doe-eyes -- never mind that the boy didn't even have his swimsuit with
him…
And now he's running around in only his underwear and a tank top, the white
fabric gone see-through with salt water, and John can only blame himself for
the fact that every single man on this beach is drooling on his baby… because
the boy's sweet little tits are impossible to ignore right now, the tiny buds
gone all tight and pink and hardfrom the cold water, pointing through the thin
fabric like a fucking provocation.
Of course Stiles is completely oblivious; he doesn't know that every step he
takes makes his bubbly ass shake oh-so-invitingly, doesn't know that every time
he bends over to pick up a colorful shell, the thin fabric stretches over his
ass, showing a pink hint of wet opening and making every single man on this
beach want to pounce and plow that lovely omega cunt into next week.
He doesn't know, and John has to do something to show all these greedy pervs on
the beach that Stiles is his, and no one else's.
"Stiles!" he calls, and his baby perks up immediately, he's such a good boy.
"Come here!"
Stiles comes to him, grinning happily, and his mouth is so fucking precious,
all red and soft, and John wants to take.
"Come here, baby boy," he orders gently, patting his lap. "Come sit on daddy."
Stiles smiles at him and plops down, graceless as a baby deer as he straddles
his father's strong thighs, settling his firm ass against the sun-warm skin,
and John shivers lightly at the wet, cold touch.
"God, Stiles," John says, and his voice is soft and deep. "My precious little
boy."
His hands slide under the cold fabric of Stiles' shirt, and he watches them
through the soaked cotton as they go up, up until each palm is nestled right
under the boy's smooth armpits and he can nudge each thumb against a perky
nipple… Stiles lets out a mewl, pupils dilating at the first graze, and John
starts to roll the hard little nubs under the pads of his thumbs, barely
pressing down on them, just enough to see Stiles' cheeks reddening, hear his
breath go ragged.
"You have no idea what you look like, do you?" John whispers. "You have no idea
what a little slut you've been..."
Stiles keens, and his hands are gripping his father's biceps hard, as if to try
and anchor himself, and his lower lip is shiny and bright red where he's biting
it.
"You have no idea what every man on this beach has been thinking, seeing you
running around like the perfect little bitch you are..."
Stiles is full-on moaning now, his boyish, narrow hips rolling against his
father's thighs, clumsily searching friction; John chuckles lowly and slides
down his hands, caressing his boy's flanks and lower back until he can slip
under the flimsy fabric of the pretty white panties and grab two handfuls of
perfectly round ass cheeks.
"But they don't know, do they now?" he sighs, and his strong fingers knead the
flesh possessively. "They don't know who you belong to... they don't know who's
the only one allowed to take that sweet little baby cunt."
John dips a finger between the cheeks, pressing lightly against the hot coiled
entrance, teasing Stiles with circular motions... when he finally pushes a
finger inside his boy, he is pleased to find him slick already, Stiles' hole
stretching easily around his knuckles, open and wet and ready.
"You want it so much, baby... you're such a perfect little slut," he says,
voice low and tight with proud arousal.
John pushes deeper and Stiles whimperswhen he finds his prostate, pupils
dilating so far his eyes are made of pure, lusty black.
"Yes I--" Stiles hiccups, wet eyelashes batting prettily, "I am, d-daddy."
His big eyes flutter down to where his daddy is opening his fly and taking his
cock out, and he licks his lips, looking hungry and shy and oh-so-perfect...
John smirks then, bringing his lips to his son's ear.
"Let's show them," he whispers, and Stiles lets out an eager little moan,
nodding sweetly against his father's jaw.
"That's right, baby," John chuckles. "Let's show them who you belong to," he
says, and he tugs Stiles closer to him, squeezing that flat boyish chest to his
own, hard and possessive… and if the movement settles the boy's warm, perfect,
open little hole right against John's rock-hard prick, well, that's all the
better.
John's erection is trapped snug between Stiles' pert ass cheeks and he can feel
it, that greedy little pussy, hot and ripe through the wet panties, twitching
against the length of his leaking cock as Stiles moans and keens... bony little
hips stuttering, slim pale thighs straining, slick opening kissing and
fluttering for his cock, but John doesn't go in; not yet. Right now, he is
content with staying still, enjoying that perfect moment of anticipation where
Stiles is rutting on him, shameless and beautiful and ready, where he knows
Stiles is his and that soon his perfect little hole will be filled to the brim
with John's come.
Meanwhile, Stiles is going nearly mad with want.
"Daddy please," he's panting, small hips rocking sinfully, "please give it to
me, please..."
"Well," John concedes. "Since you're asking so nicely..."
And with that, he pushes Stiles' thin, slick-soaked little panties aside and
slowly pushes in.
As always, the boy's hole feels like heaven around him; tight and smooth and
hot, greedily swallowing every inch of rock-hard flesh like a sheath made just
for him... and John can feel the stares on him, the eyes of all these alphas
strained on their coupling, the breezy air of the beach now thick with envy and
desire as they all watch his enormous cock fuck its way through his son's
plush, warm insides.
Stiles exhales a long sigh as he is finally filled, and John can feel his
little forehead drop on his father's shoulder when he bottoms out; John smiles
proudly when he feels Stiles' ass meet the top of his thighs, and he kisses the
boy's temple, rubbing circles on the smooth expanse of his back.
"You're doing so good, baby, so good for me" he murmurs lowly in Stiles' ear.
"Look at you, taking my cock like a perfect whore..."
Stiles moans when John gives a little upward thrust, hitting the boy's prostate
dead-on.
"They all want you, you know," he whispers. "They want you so much, I bet
they're all hard in their swim trunks, balls tight and knots aching for your
little omega cunt..."
Stiles is so beautiful like this, his tiny body opening up for his father's
huge cock, color high on his cheeks as he is thoroughly wrecked, and John can't
stop talking, whispering filthy things in his pretty son's ear, reminding
himself with every word that Stiles is his.
"You would be in so much trouble if I wasn't there, my precious little slut,"
he says fondly, pushing Stiles' hairless, soft little balls aside to watch how
beautifully his cock penetrates him at every thrust, stretching the skin so
widely it looks like it could tear any second. "They would break you,Stiles.
They wouldn't even fight each other, wouldn't try and decide who gets you
first... they'd just pounce and pin you down, and then next thing you know
you'd be stuffed full of huge," John gives a sharp thrust up, "hard", he does
it again, "alpha", again, "cock."
He gives one last hard thrust and Stiles gasps, his big doe-eyes watering.
"You'd love that, wouldn't you Stiles?" John says, and it's not even a
question. "You'd thrash around and you'd scream but you wouldlove it, to be
forced on your knees and fucked within an inch of your life... I bet you'd be
dripping, your sweet little pussy drenched in creamy slick just for them."
John is thrusting faster now, Stiles bouncing weakly on his cock, his pale,
delicate face twisted in almost-pained ecstasy as he babbles incoherently,
please and daddy falling free from his open mouth.
"They'd breed you so good, baby boy," he continues. "Knot you so hard and deep
and come all the way inside your ripe little cunt, flooding your insides with
warm, thick seed, filling you right up to the brim, and then again and again
and again, until you're all but ready to burst, your pretty little belly so
full and round with them..."
John slides a hand down Stiles' ass cleft, right where the fat girth of his
cock is splitting him in half, stretching the soft, slick opening, and he
teases the sore, tender flesh, slipping one finger in the already tight fit,
delighted to hear the boy moan unabashedly.
"That's it, baby, just like that," he murmurs hotly. "And you'd be so
beautiful, Stiles. So fucking pretty all bred up, your ripe baby cunt full of
pups, all swollen and soft and glowing..."
Stiles is keening now, one long plaintive sound as John picks up the pace,
hammering his son's prostate mercilessly.
"But that's not gonna happen, is it," he chuckles, dark and possessive. "They
know you're mine now. They know I'm the only one allowed to fuck your sweet
little cunt full of come, to breed you until you can't walk."
John can feel his knot swelling, gorging with blood until it catches at Stiles'
rim every time he lifts the skinny, small hips up, the boy whimpering plaintive
and high as his hole clenches hungrily.
"That's what you want, isn't it Stiles? For me to breed you, to come so deep
inside you you'll feel it for days, to fill up you so good you'll let go of my
cock and be pregnant already..."
"Yes daddy," the boy pants, words cut by moans and cries every time John hits
his prostate, faster and harder and faster, "I'm yours, please--breed me, put
your seed inside me!"
And just like that, just at hearing his son so needy and slutty, John feels his
orgasm rip through him; Stiles lets out a blissful sigh as his father's fat
knot finally catches his open, slippery cunt's rim for good and John sees
stars, shooting his load deep inside the soft, supple little body, as the knot
locks them together.
When they come down, Stiles looks deliciously wrecked, whiskey-gold irises gone
glassy under his heavy eyelids.
"I-I'm so full," he says, and his voice is broken and lovely and god, John
loves him so much.
"Yeah, baby," he whispers, sweet and caring, cradling his son's limp, fucked-
out body, gently rocking him on his knot.
He is still coming, throbbing member pulsing hot and wet inside the warm, open
pussy, and he nuzzles at Stiles' temple.
"Are you okay?" he asks softly.
Because while his dirty talk is something Stiles is used to (and very
appreciative of, if the way he always comes extra-hard is any indication),
John’s knot is still a little too big for the boy, and he usually doesn’t knot
him without a long, slow prep… obviously he got a little crazy proving his
dominance over the other alphas of the beach, and he’s worried he went too far,
but Stiles only nods sleepily.
"Yeah," he snuffles against John's neck, all warm and cuddly. "Feels good."
And that, right there, is why John will never regret mating his own son.
It just feels too right.
 
End Notes
     If you liked it, don't forget to leave kudos and/or a comment! I
     would love to know what you thought.
     Anyway, have a great day!
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