Chapter Text
It was a few days before John had the time to look at the other videos. Days of pretending he was a decent, moral pillar of the community instead of the sick fuck who knew the sounds his son made when he was fucked open and wet by an animal.
One who hadn’t jerked himself raw, coming so hard he had to change the entire uniform.
But now he didn’t have to pretend. Now he had the morning to himself, Stiles safely off at school and the house empty for him to hesitantly click on another video, volume on his computer low enough that he could hear if anyone showed up unexpectedly.
This video started off shaky, like the person holding the camera couldn’t decide what they wanted to film first.
"What is taking you so long?" Stiles voice asked, giving away who the person behind the camera might be. John knew he shouldn’t feel disappointed by the fact, but he was. Maybe this video was just something mundane?
But that thought was quickly squashed by the camera swinging up to focus on a tan uniform that he knew too well, stretched out over a too broad chest. “Are you sure he’s not going to notice this is missing?” Came a voice that was just familiar enough that John was able to place it as Derek Hale.
"Summer uniform. He won’t even touch it until it’s over 70 out," Stiles assured him, making the screen pan over where the fabric stretched over muscled thighs and biceps before it was aimed at Hale’s unimpressed face. "Aw, don’t make that face. We agreed."
The face he made at that and the laughter from Stiles following implied whatever this was had been the usual Stiles strong arming to get his way. “I’ll blow you when you’re a wolf,” Stiles offered, voice going low and smooth in a way that had John shifting slightly in his seat. The sort of voice a parent really never ought to hear from their kid. “Been thinking about it, actually. You fucking my throat and knotting my mouth. Just stuck like that and unable to do anything but swallow your load.”
Well. That certainly explained the dog from the last one.
Derek looked flushed, mouth slightly open as that image sank in with him. It made John's dick twitch in interest, pressing hard against the fabric of his briefs. On screen, Derek liked his lips before moving closer to the camera until it was pressed right up against his chest.
"Hey, don’t break it!" Stiles snapped, the image blurring before it was set in the same location that it had been for the first video. The view of the bed was just right to see most of the action. "Now you can—" Before Stiles could finish that sentence, he was suddenly tossed onto the bed like a rag doll, grinning as he bounced slightly from the force. Derek was on him before he could sit up, one large hand over Stiles’ chest, pinning him down.
"You’re a little shit," Derek said, straddling Stiles’ hips and looking down at him. "You think you’ve got me right where you want me, don’t you?"
Stiles smirked, tilting his head like he had a flippant response on the tip of his tongue before Derek was moving forward. Those broad thighs now against Stiles’ chest instead of his waist. “Should I go get a pair of your dad’s underwear too?” Derek asked. “I’m wearing his uniform for you.”
The smirk faltered and Stiles flushed so prettily that John found himself holding his breath. “Lots of people have police fantasies,” Stiles mumbled, looking embarrassed even as the bulge in his jeans grew more pronounced. John was so hard now, not touching himself only because he didn’t want to miss what might happen next. He licked at his lips, leaning forward to watch.
"It’s okay," Derek said, voice soft enough that John was forced to turn up the volume. The man looked down at Stiles, rubbing at his cheek gently with his thumb. "You want to call me daddy? Be my good boy?"
Stiles moaned, hips rolling like he couldn’t control it. His back was still firmly pressed against the bed, but his legs were scrambling for purchase so he could fuck his hips up against something. Anything. “Yeah,” he whispered, looking from Derek’s crotch up to his face. “Yeah, daddy. Please.”
John gave up on trying to be good, shoving down his briefs so he could fuck up into his fist. His eyes didn’t leave the screen or Stiles’ expression as Derek leaned forward, pressing tan uniform fabric of those borrowed pants against Stiles’ mouth. Didn’t look away from how Stiles’ pink little tongue darted out immediately to lick along the line of the rapidly plumping cock just under the thin layer of fabric. Certainly didn’t look away from how Derek was reaching down to cup the back of Stiles’head so he could rock his hips forward, humping at his son’s mouth.
"Such a good boy for your daddy," Derek whispered watching as Stiles mouthed wetly at his dick, soaking the fabric enough that it clung along the lines of it. John couldn’t help but swallow back a wave of jealousy, wanting it to be Stiles’ mouth on his dick. But also wanting to get a taste of the still growing cock, see if it tasted as good as Stiles’ moans made it seem. "Think you can swallow me down? Take all of daddy’s dick?"
Stiles nodded quickly, opening his mouth to take what Derek was giving to him. Like the thought of getting his daddy’s dick was enough to strip him of all his sharp, sarcastic edges. And all that was left was an eager little boy who wanted to be used like they were nothing but a wet hole.
John gritted his teeth to keep from groaning to loud, working himself with one hand as he reached for the bottle of lotion to slick his way.
Slowly, far too slowly for John, Derek sat back on Stiles’ chest, opening up the fly of the uniform pants to pull his cock out. He worked it a few times, letting Stiles lick at the tip—John rubbed his own fingers over the head of his cock in time with that— before pressing forward again and into Stiles’ mouth. The muffled moans and wet, messy noises with each press of his hips forward were enough to force John to grip the base of his own dick to keep from coming before this was over.
It wasn’t too long before the moans were being overshadowed by little choking noises, followed by desperate little whines. “Shhh. I know, I know,” Derek said, pulling back even as Stiles moved to try and keep that monster of a dick in his mouth. “Listen to daddy.”
The soft tone was tempered by Derek grabbing hold of Stiles’ shirt and dragging him around to the foot of the bed. He positioned a limp and pliant Stiles so that his head was handing off the bed, laying on his back. “That’s a good boy. You want it all. I’ll give you it. Just trust daddy.”
"Please. Please, daddy," Stiles whined, eyeing at Derek’s dick with the sort of hunger that had John bucking his hips up to fuck his hand before he got himself back under control.
Derek’s hands were gentle over Stiles’ throat and jaw as he teased him, underside of his dick, rubbing over Stiles’ cheeks and lips. “Tell me what you want. You have to tell me.”
Stiles whined, but surprisingly kept still. “Fuck—fuck my throat, daddy. I want it.”
John was helpless but to work his cock again, thinking about it being his dick spreading those pink lips open wide.His cock fucking into that mouth until it was down his boy’s throat that Derek’s was in the video.
He listened to the noises of Stiles just fucking taking it without gagging once in this position. The wet slurps as Derek sped up to fuck into that sweet little cunt of a mouth, the little muffled moans and heavy breaths. He hunched over, come splattering over his t-shirt and even hitting his neck. It had been years since he’d had anything like that happen.
As he caught his breath, he looked back at the screen where Stiles was still just taking it so beautifully. His hands were balled into fists like a good little boy until he was told he could touch himself or his—Derek.
"You think about this?" Derek asked, voice strained. "You think about your daddy using your mouth? Your ass?" Stiles couldn’t respond, of course. Not beyond a louder little moan around that cock. "Maybe you want both. Maybe you really want your daddy to find out what kind of a slut you are. How happily you get down on your knees for an animal to fuck you."
The moans were becoming more desperate, pathetic little whimpers of lust and need.
"Maybe you don’t want me in the uniform. Maybe you want him," Derek said voice going harsh and cruel as he pushed himself in completely, mouth open as he came. Those wet noises only became louder as Stiles tried to breath and swallow at the same time. Only once he pulled out, come still oozing out to smear over Stiles’ lax lips did there come a response.
"Yeah," Stiles coughed, voice raspy from being used so thoroughly. "Yeah. I want it."
John sat in stunned silence, only half paying attention to Derek smiling as he leaned down to lick Stiles’ face clean. He had to have heard that wrong, right?