This all started because Sam(idareu2bme) is a dirty enabler...ummmm, I mean, my bestie and she tagged me in a tumblr post with this prompt:

ok, ok, ok… WHAT ABOUT a dom/sub universe, h/c fic where Stiles is a strong-willed, smart-mouthed, bratty sub… one of dom Peter's collection of subs, actually… and Derek is this really crumby dom…Peter gives Stiles to Derek or something cuz Derek really shoudl have a sub… even if he is a shitty dom, he's a Hale and Hales are doms of high prestige.. or.. yeah.. anyway… and Stiles is like super good for Derek cuz he just pushes and pushes… and Derek doesn't trust himself, is traumatized by something… but Stiles brings out the true dom in him, the protector and lover… and it is just lovely…

so yeah… can we have that?

Then she combined it with puppy dog eyes on the messenger, and now this fic is born.

I have been threatening to write a Sterek fic for some time now, so I guess she got tired of my flipflopping and decided to issue a challenge she knew I couldn't resist. I hope everyone enjoys my first effort at writing Teen Wolf!

Many thanks to Sies for being an incredible beta and to Shelley(SugaKane01) for tolerating all my flails and ideas cluttering up her ask!

Fic name from the song by Jann Arden

**crossposted from AO3 by request**

"But I already told you, I don't want one!"

Derek Hale angrily followed his uncle, Peter Hale, as he strode briskly into his office. He could practically hear the eye roll as Peter heaved out a long-suffering sigh. Peter walked over to his desk and sat in the plush high back chair, leaning back to eye Derek as he moved to stand stiffly in front of him. Derek's jaw was tense and his hands were clenched into tight fists at his sides. He knew his eyes glowed a faint blue as testimony to his agitated state, and that his expression was most likely mutinous. Peter sighed again, then fixed his steady gaze on Derek, allowing a brief tinge of red to enter his eyes.

"Derek, we've been over this multiple times and I'm done explaining. It's time you put the past to rest and took on a sub. You're a Hale, after all. You carry the markers of dominance and are part of a long and prestigious line. It's what is expected of you. I've been extremely lenient with you, but it's past time for you to step up and become a proper Dom. A submissive will bring out your natural dominance, will anchor your wolf and make you stronger. As the next Alpha, Laura is training to take over the family business when I retire, but you are expected to be on the Board as her Beta, there to help her and take charge should it for some reason become necessary. Now that you're back from New York, I can no longer in good conscience allow you to founder along aimlessly. What would your mother say to me? In fact, what would she say to you?" Peter questioned him, knowing exactly which buttons to hit to get to his point across.

Derek bowed his head and closed his eyes, swallowing thickly. "She would expect me to do my duty," he ground out.

As loathe as Derek was to admit it, Peter was right. His mother would have been exceedingly disappointed that he hadn't claimed a proper sub by now. Like her, he was a born wolf and a Dominant. Markers in the blood were checked at birth in order to determine whether a child was a Dominant or a submissive. The natural instincts were latent until the teenage years when maturity kick-started them and the urges began to manifest. At that time, they received their tattoo mark of something symbolic to them on their left hand that indicated they were able to enter into a claim. A special ink was used that reacted to the blood markers to take on the signifying color; black for submissives and red for Dominants.

Children were raised with the expectation that they would enter their first claim after being granted their tattoo. Being in a claim would stabilize them during the crucial growth period where hormones ran rampant. The Dominant would have an outlet for the powerful urges of control and possessiveness, and the submissive would get the domination and protection they craved and needed. In the case of the large werewolf population, the wolf prowled especially close to the surface during this time as well, eager to dominate or submit. It was especially crucial to them to be in a claim so as to not be overwhelmed completely.

Most teenage couples were joined in provisional claims; short-term claims that were easily terminated but with the option to make it permanent if both parties desired. Once they reached the majority age of eighteen, Dominants and submissives were free to experiment as much as they pleased, both in and out of claims, though a claim was both preferred and encouraged. But Derek's mother, Talia, had claimed his father, Donovan, at the age of seventeen, and they had been extremely happy together. They had actually developed the Mate Bond, where the inner wolf chose its life mate, a rare occurrence in such an early claim. As soon as they were legally able, they made their claim permanent, rather than parting ways later to join with another.

It was practically unheard of for a Dominant Derek's age to not have claimed a permanent submissive, or to at least be in a provisional claim. While hardly ancient at 24, most Dominants of similar age were settling down and collaring their submissive.

Derek sighed inwardly. More than anything, he wanted a relationship like his parents had. One filled with the deep love and trust between a Dominant and their chosen submissive. A Mate Bond. But he knew he didn't deserve it. If it weren't for his own blind stupidity, his mother would be here now, would have been there to guide him through all this. Peter's voice cut into his deep reverie and Derek looked up, blinking to make himself focus on his uncle.

"I'm glad you see it my way," Peter rumbled with satisfaction. "I've taken the liberty of choosing a sub for you, a student from the Academy. One of our best academically, top of the submissive class. I believe you'll find it to be a good match for you."

Derek tensed and fought back a growl. "On top of being forced to take on a sub I don't want, I don't even get to choose my own?"

Peter shrugged nonchalantly, looking almost bored. "To be frank, I didn't trust you to do so. I am of the belief that you would agree to this just to get me off your back, then drag your feet as you have continually done in the past. You've turned down easily half a dozen acceptable subs over the last year alone, Derek. And don't for a minute think I don't know about those clubs you've been partaking of where any sub will allow you to dominate them however you want so long as the price is right. It's a proven fact that those places help take the edge off your dominance so you can keep your head clear but are a poor substitute to having your own claimed submissive."

Derek looked away and felt his cheeks heat as he flushed under his uncle's cool scrutiny. He had thought he was being discreet in the Sub Clubs, but he should have known Peter was aware of his dealings there. The Alpha had eyes and ears everywhere, after all. Even in New York. He tried again, "Uncle, I swear I'll do this, I'll select a submissive to claim. Just let me choose my own."

Peter shook his head. "I'm afraid the matter is quite settled, Derek. The sub I've chosen for you will make you the powerful Dominant you've always been meant to be." His eyes grew colder. "And no offense, but the last time you selected your own...submissive, it ended up being a disaster, didn't it?"

Derek glared at his uncle stonily, careful not to give away the grief, humiliation and guilt flooding him. Disaster might be the understatement of the century. Derek knew that, but having Peter throw it in his face was painfully demeaning. "I wouldn't make that mistake again."

"Of course you wouldn't," Peter agreed coolly, "but that fact of the matter is I won't let you. I believe you'll be rather pleased with my selection."

Derek eyed his uncle warily; he knew him far too well to believe this was just a matter of selecting a submissive. "How do you know I'll be pleased? There's something more to this. What's in it for you?" he asked, voice laced with suspicion.

To his surprise, Peter laughed, actually sounding pleased. "There's the Hale in you. I may begin to have new hope for you after all. Very well. The submissive I have arranged for you to take is the only child of the Sheriff of Beacon Hills. It's an excellent match, beneficial to all. You will get a submissive worthy of belonging to a Hale, and I will have an extremely valuable connection to the Sheriff himself. Such an alliance can only be an advantage, especially in regards to hunters." His blue eyes hardened to an icy steel. "The Argents in particular, as you well know. They have kept a relatively low profile after the scandal, but I don't trust them one bit."

Derek growled low in the back of his throat, though he wasn't sure if it was in response to Peter's reasoning or mention of the Argents. He opted to ignore the pointed reference to the hunters and concentrate on the arranged claim. "That's what this is about? You're making me take a submissive so you can have an in with the Sheriff? And he agreed to this whole crazy scheme? You've got to be kidding me!" he fumed, finding himself feeling outraged on not only on his behalf, but that of the mystery submissive as well. "No, I don't want to. Let Laura take on the sheriff's kid. Or you do it, I don't care."

Peter closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, huffing in annoyance as his irritation increased. "Laura is perfectly happy with Boyd, Derek, and you know that," he said slowly, enunciating as if Derek were having trouble understanding basic English. "She's planning on collaring him soon and she doesn't want a secondary submissive. And I already have Erica and Isaac; I don't want or need a third submissive and would only take on another in very extreme circumstances. Quite frankly, I'm surprised at you. This is truly an excellent opportunity. You are getting a rare chance that many Doms would love to have. Getting a highly connected submissive that is well trained, an honor student at the Academy, and perfectly ripe for you to teach exactly how to serve and please you."

"But I still don't-" Derek began to argue, then flinched as his uncle's temper snapped.

"ENOUGH!" snarled Peter, his eyes flashing full red and his fangs elongating, voice taking on the deep timbre of the Alpha voice. "The matter is settled and you'll do as you're told, Derek. And that's the Alpha telling you that."

Derek grudgingly backed down. He knew that meant the decision was final, coming from Peter as the Alpha and not as his uncle. Dom or not, Peter would brook no more opposition from him, at least not without harsh consequences. He reluctantly ducked his head and tilted it to the side slightly to bare his neck as he attempted to appease his uncle with the show of respect.

Peter sighed aloud as he reverted back to human form and stood up, walking around his ornate desk. "Now, Derek, let's not quarrel. You and Laura are all I have left and whether you believe it or not, I only want what's best for you. Come along and see the submissive I've selected for you."

The hallway outside Peter's office led to another hallway where a large two way mirror gave access to view the common area for the submissive students to gather and mingle with the Dominant ones under close supervision. The Hale Academy for Dominants and Submissives was a prestigious and highly accredited private school for parents to enroll their children. Students were thoroughly trained in the ways that would be required of them in their future in a safe and controlled environment that ensured no Dominant got carried away and acted out of bounds and no submissive was taken advantage of. Submissives were taught the ways to show proper submission and to please the Dominant that would one day claim them permanently. Dominants were taught things such as proper dominance and aftercare techniques with strict attention to building respect and trust in their claim. They were all educated in the various aspects of their future claims, including such things as contracts, hard and soft limits, safewords and using them correctly, awards and punishments, the significance of a permanent claim, and collaring of the submissive.

To abuse a submissive was anathema to society. They were to be cared for, coddled, pampered and punished, and treated with the utmost affection and respect. A Dom that mistreated a submissive would be shunned and ostracized, unable to claim a submissive since none would have them after such information became public knowledge. Only the very basest and lowest of Sub Clubs would even consider allowing such a Dom entry, and even then they would pay dearly for the necessity of acting on the dominant urges coursing through them.

Derek and Peter looked through the mirror at the large gathering of students inside, able to observe without being seen themselves. Peter scanned the crowd for a moment, lips pursed in concentration before smiling as he found who he was looking for.

"Ah, yes. There, at the table in the center of the room. Sitting between the lovely redhead, Lydia Martin, and my Erica," Peter said, motioning with his head.

Derek looked toward the mentioned area, looking for the familiar golden curls of his uncle's female submissive, whom he had met recently when he returned to Beacon Hills. When he found her and saw who Peter was referring to, it took all of his self control not to visibly startle.

"You got me a boy submissive?" he asked in disbelief, turning to stare at Peter, who looked wordlessly back at him, a single, unimpressed eyebrow raised in answer. He remembered in a wave of hot humiliation that Peter knew he had been going to the Sub Clubs and obviously knew the most minute of details all the way down to his choice of submissive. He clenched his jaw and turned back to the window silently to look again at the boy Peter had arranged for him.

The boy was laughing at something another dark haired boy sitting at the same table was saying. His face was open and delighted, and even from a distance Derek could see his warm brown eyes were framed with luscious lashes. He had a lush mouth that bordered on obscene; perfect pink lips that could no doubt pout and beg prettily or wrap around a cock in sinful fashion. His hair was short but the perfect length for tangling hands in and tugging on. The hands he gestured wildly with as he spoke were imminently capable and strong looking with long, graceful fingers. He had a lean build, solid and muscular, but not overly so. He was wretchedly, stupidly perfect.

Derek hated him.

"Come along, then," said Peter as he walked to the administrator's entrance to the common area. He opened the door and stepped into the crowded room, nodding in acknowledgement of a greeting from one of the teachers closely chaperoning the gathered teenagers. Once Derek had joined him, Peter sauntered to the table he had indicated to Derek. Erica noticed them first and gave Peter a devastating smile as she slid from her seat to drop to her knees and tilt her head to one side, baring her throat in obeisance.

"Alpha," she cooed breathily, eyes fluttering shut as Peter reached out to stroke her curls fondly before settling his hand on her neck. "Isaac went to the library. He wanted to use free time to research more for his project."

"Thank you, my darling. Such a good girl, and kneeling so prettily for me." Peter smiled at her as she nuzzled into his hand. He then raised his eyes to the rest of the teenagers at the table.

The dark haired submissive boy grinned mischievously up at them. "O, Alpha, my Alpha!" he greeted cheekily before dropping his gaze back down to the table. The other boy sitting with them glanced quickly at him in stunned surprise. Derek held his breath for a moment as well, wondering both how Peter would react to such an irreverent salutation from a submissive and what he could possibly be thinking, saying this was the ideal submissive for him. To his surprise, Peter chuckled at the same moment the red haired girl sitting next to the boy placed her left hand firmly on the back of his neck.

"Manners, Stiles!" she admonished in exasperation, though her tone was a fond one. She looked up and met Peter's eye, nodding once. "Headmaster."

Peter returned her nod pleasantly. "Miss Martin." He turned to Derek. "This is Lydia Martin. Top of her class and one of the most promising Dommes we have ever seen at Hale Academy. She already has not one but two Submissives in her care and they are thriving. We couldn't be more pleased." He turned back to the table. "My nephew, Dom Derek Hale, back from New York."

Derek nodded coolly to the stunning girl who was preening under the high praise. For some reason he couldn't name, he felt his hackles rising that her red tattooed hand remained on the boy's—his boy's—neck. That she was no longer correcting him and was now rubbing his neck absently with a delicately manicured thumb made it even more irritating, especially when his eyes fluttered shut in obvious appreciation of being petted. Having reprimanded him, she had no reason to keep touching him since he didn't belong to her. None of Derek's feelings of possessiveness were making sense to him in the slightest, seeing as they weren't even in a claim yet. The boy didn't even know he was in the presence of his Dom, which didn't seem to deter Derek's dominant instincts in the slightest. He suddenly very much wanted this boy on his knees in front of him, kneeling in perfect submission, ready and eager to tend to the needs and commands of his Dom. His eyes flickered down to the black tattoo on the boy's left hand and he found himself wanting to take that hand in his own to look at it more closely, find out what it was and what made it significant. Then maybe strip him down and inspect every inch of him, since he now belonged to Derek.

God damn it.

"As you see," Peter continued, seemingly unaware of Derek's inner turmoil, "she also is invaluable in keeping her friends under control when needed. Isn't that correct, Mr. Stilinski?"

The boy grinned again, still looking down respectfully. "Yes, Sir," he said, sounding cheerfully unrepentant.

Peter gave Derek a smirk. "The young scamp Miss Martin is keeping in check is Stiles Stilinski. A gifted Submissive, though he may not always act it."

"What kind of a name is Stiles?" Derek blurted out without meaning to.

The boy's eyes flew up to his for a brief moment before quickly returning down. He tensed noticeably and, much to Derek's displeasure, Lydia's soothing motions on his neck quickly became more purposeful. "It's my name. What I want to be called." Lydia made a small noise of admonition. "Sir," he quickly added.

Peter stepped in smoothly. "His father has informed us that this is the name of preference, Derek," he interjected, his gaze warning Derek not to push at the moment.

Of course he was right, Derek thought irritably. All these details would be known to him soon enough when they met with Stiles and his father to begin the claim. Derek fidgeted slightly where he stood. It had been a long time since he had last been to a Sub Club and his dominant instincts were close to going haywire. His wolf stirred restlessly just under the surface of his skin, as if it already knew he was so close to what was his, even though Stiles obviously had no idea. He couldn't help taking a deep inconspicuous breath, although he knew he wouldn't be able to pick Stiles' scent out of the large crowd.

Not yet, anyway.

Peter gave him a shrewd smirk as he went back to introductions. "The quiet lad on the other side of Miss Martin is Danny Mahealani, one of her submissives." He glanced around the room and turned back to the table. "But you appear to be missing some of your normal group. Where is Mr. Whittemore? And Mr. McCall?"

"Jackson is meeting with Dom Finstock. He's been named captain of the submissive's lacrosse team," Lydia replied. From the pride obvious in her voice, Derek guessed that Jackson must be her second submissive.

"And Scott is with his Domme. I think she's punishing him for getting in trouble in Dom Harris' class," mumbled Stiles mournfully. "I guess him putting us in corner time wasn't enough punishment."

"Now, Stiles, Allison is a good Domme. She loves Scott. That's why she corrects him when he does wrong," stated Lydia matter of factly. "She wants him to be the best he can be and he wants to please her. If she didn't care she wouldn't bother, and then Scott would suffer. And I'm sure your father will deal with you as he sees fit when you get home." She squeezed Stiles' neck comfortingly when he winced and groaned softly.

The bare whisper of sound made the hairs on Derek's neck stand up, putting him even more on edge. He nearly growled, both at the notion that any Dom other than himself would be punishing his submissive, father or not, and the fact that Lydia was still touching his boy.

Peter slanted him a warning look. "Yes, well, we must be on our way. On your feet, pet," Peter said to Erica, stepping back as she gracefully rose from her kneeling position. He cupped her face for a brief moment, brushing a thumb along her cheekbone affectionately before indicating that she return to her seat. As she resumed her place next to Stiles, Peter addressed him. "And I do believe we will actually have the pleasure of your company this evening, Mr. Stilinski, as we will be coming to your home to meet with your father for a business dinner. Do try to be on your best behavior." With that, he turned to leave. Derek gave Stiles one last glance before turning to follow him.

They returned to Peter's office in silence. When they reached the door, Derek met his uncle's knowing grin.

"Well?" Peter asked, as if there were actually any question.

Smug bastard, Derek thought irately. He nodded his head once. "I'll take him."

"Excellent," chuckled Peter.

Back in the common room, Danny breathed out on a quick exhale. "That was strange. Why would the Headmaster himself come here to talk to us? What do you think it was about, Mistress?"

Lydia pursed her lips thoughtfully as she idly stroked the leather cuff Danny wore on his wrist that indicated he was in a claim. It was identical to the cuff Jackson wore and matched the cuff she wore on her own wrist. "I don't really know. I suppose he's showing the prodigal nephew around now that he's finally returned. Guess he finally decided to heed the call of duty."

Stiles glanced at her curiously. "Returned from where?"

"You don't remember? It was a huge scandal a few years ago." Lydia frowned as she tried to remember all the details. "Something about Derek and an older woman he was involved with, but it wasn't a claim since he hadn't reached tattooing yet." She nodded at the scandalized gasps from the submissives around her.

Claims before tattooing occurred were forbidden, and any sexual involvement prior to it was highly taboo. Despite knowing from birth what one would be when they grew up, maturity had to be reached before legally entering into a claim.

"Anyway," Lydia continued as she casually tossed her hair over her shoulder, "I don't remember all the details exactly, except the crazy bitch burned down his house. It turned out she was some sort of extremist hunter that hated werewolves. Killed most of his family, including his parents. He and his older sister Laura were the only survivors other than the Headmaster, since they weren't home at the time." She frowned again. "There was something more to it, but I can't put my finger on it right now. Derek and Laura went to New York for a time, but Laura came back months ago. Derek just now finally decided to make an appearance."

"That freakin' sucks about his family," Stiles said, feeling a sudden sense of empathy with the mysterious Derek Hale. "Losing my mom was bad enough. If I had lost both my parents I don't know what I would have done.

"The Alpha's submissive, his mate, was killed, too," chimed in Erica. "He doesn't talk about her much, but she was pregnant when it happened. Isaac and I know better than to bring it up."

"Doesn't that bother you at all?" asked Stiles doubtfully, gesturing with one hand. "Because to tell you the truth, I don't know if I could really submit to a Dom that loved someone else. I'd be worried I was always being compared unfavorably to someone who was always better. That I was competing with a ghost. I mean, I guess I would do what I had to, to honor my part of the claim, if I would even agree to it in the first place. I think at the very least it would be really hard getting to subspace. How could you trust that Dom to have your best interests at heart?"

Erica smiled at him. "The Alpha is very good to us; I couldn't ask for better. My wolf likes that my Dom is so strong and such a good provider. My parents were grateful when he was willing to claim me and give me the bite to cure my epilepsy and give me the chance to truly live. And he did the same for Isaac when it turned out he was being mistreated by his father. The Alpha made us better, gives us the best of care. He's firm but fair, and really affectionate with us. Like, he honestly denies us nothing, and money is never an object to him. You should see our playroom. And it doesn't hurt that he's incredibly handsome, either." Her smile turned slightly wicked. "When I'm a really good girl and he's pleased with me, he sometimes lets me play with Isaac."

Danny's eyes widened and Stiles snorted in disbelief. "What, he actually lets you dominate his other submissive? Isn't that sort of weird?"

"I wouldn't call it dominating, really. I'm not a Dom. But he tells me what to do and I do it. I guess kind of like a director for a movie. It's really fun for me and Isaac likes it, too. I think the Alpha sometimes enjoys watching us play together as much as he enjoys playing with us himself," Erica grinned impishly as she pulled an apple out of her tote bag. She bit into it, somehow making the simple act look seductive.

"Yes, I imagine he would," hummed Lydia thoughtfully as she looked at Danny's suddenly pink cheeks. She lovingly ran her fingers through his hair and smiled when he closed his eyes and leaned into her touch. Reaching down, she traced a finger lightly over the black shell tattoo that adorned his left hand.

"Does Headmaster make you call him Alpha at home? 'Cause I'll be honest, I don't mind Sir or something similar, but I don't know if I could scene with my Dom and call him that," Stiles remarked, then ducked his head as Lydia sighed and touched his neck again.

"That's really none of your business, Stiles," she reprimanded softly. "What a Dominant and their submissive agree on for their private time is between them."

"Sorry, Lyds," Stiles apologized, then winced when she pressed his neck a bit more firmly to remind him where they were. "I mean, Miss Lydia."

"Good boy," Lydia praised him, stroking his neck affectionately. "You know I don't mind you calling me Lyds at home, but at school you need to remember to address me formally."

Stiles and Lydia had been close friends since they were children. Their parents had been friends and they'd grown up together. When Stiles' mother had gotten sick, Lydia had been a comfort to him. She would keep close to him in school and touch him often, knowing even at such a young age that contact was an important source of comfort and security for a submissive. She had been able to reach him where their teachers couldn't when his anxiety manifested into panic attacks, often the only one who could calm him. On the nights when his father had to work or be at the hospital, Stiles would often stay at her house and they would cuddle together on the couch. And when his mother lost her battle with illness and his father had been nearly overwhelmed with the grief of losing his beloved submissive and coming to terms with becoming a single father, Stiles turned to Lydia when his need arose. To this day, she always seemed to instinctively know when he needed her.

For many years Stiles had been sure that Lydia was the Domme of his dreams, sure they were perfect for each other, even though she always gently rebuffed him. He had daydreamed often as they grew up of her realizing they were actually meant to be, and claiming him once they were of age and tattooed. But as they neared their maturity, he had come to realize that while he loved Lydia deeply, it was more as a best friend and sister than as a Dominant, though he instinctively responded to the command she naturally exuded. When it came down to it, Lydia could be downright terrifying. Like, really.

Stiles had discovered that fantasizing during his "Stiles time" about a curvaceous Domme putting him through his paces pretty much guaranteed that he would have the happiest of happy endings. But Stiles had also found that picturing a muscular Dom pushing him to the very edge and making him beg for release also resulted in Stiles having some pretty mind blowing orgasms. After thinking about it for awhile he had decided there was no sense in limiting himself. When it came to the thrill of being dominated and showing submission, Stiles didn't discriminate. He was an equal opportunity submissive.

So Stiles was content remaining the best of friends with Lydia. She looked out for him, even to the point of sometimes saving him from himself, and she saw to it that he wasn't harassed by the other students for his unclaimed status. No submissive would dare risk her displeasure by teasing him, and no Dominant was foolish enough to try to take unfair advantage of him and incur her wrath. Even fully mature Doms were hesitant to take on Lydia Martin when she was in her element.

"Now, apologize to Erica as well for asking about her private life, even though I know you meant no harm," prompted Lydia, giving his neck another gentle squeeze before releasing him.

Erica waved her hand dismissively. "It's okay, Mistress Lydia, I don't mind." She grinned mischievously at Stiles, allowing her eyes to gleam gold and her fangs to elongate slightly. "And no, I don't have to call him Alpha at home. I prefer Sir and Isaac likes Master, but he lets us call him Peter as well. When we're in public, we are expected to address him respectfully. Remember, he isn't just an Alpha, he's The Alpha, and he doesn't tolerate anything less than obedience and respect. And that goes for everyone, not just us. Honestly, I'm a little surprised he didn't punish you for your impudence. If Mistress Lydia hadn't been here to correct you, I imagine at best you would have found yourself in the corner so fast your head would spin, and probably with a sore ass as well."

"Headmaster doesn't usually trouble himself punishing students, he lets their Dom handle it," shrugged Stiles. "Or, I guess in my case, my dad, since I'm unclaimed," he commented, looking at his bare wrist ruefully.

Danny's eyes widened as he remembered something from the earlier conversation. "Stiles! Didn't the Headmaster say they were coming to your house to talk to your dad tonight?"

Stiles' jaw dropped open and he dropped his head to the table, groaning miserably. "He totally did. The Headmaster, coming to my house to tell my dad in person that once again, my stupid mouth got me in trouble, plus being put in corner time by Dom Harris. I'm so screwed. What if I'm getting kicked out of the Academy?"

"You're getting expelled? It must be my lucky day!"

Stiles raised his head to glare at the muscular boy who had just walked up to their table. "Shut up, Jackson! This is serious! Life as I know it may be about to end! Do you know what my dad is going to say if I've been expelled? I'll just go ahead and tell you, he'll say he's going to kill himself a Stiles!" he sputtered, hands flailing wildly in his agitation.

"Dramatic much?" Jackson smirked back at Stiles briefly before dropping to his knees next to Lydia. He sat there quietly, head bowed and waiting for her to acknowledge him. After a moment, she reached out and tilted his chin upward, rubbing her thumb softly over his lips before releasing him.

"Good boy, Jackson, thank you for being so respectful. You may sit in a chair and join us, my sweet," she said with a smile, "but you know I expect you to be nice to Stiles. Do you understand me?"

"Yes, Mistress. Thank you, Mistress," Jackson said reverently, resting his head on her knee for a moment before rising and grabbing a chair to pull it closer to his Domme. He moved to sit between Lydia and Danny, and as he sat down, he rested his head affectionately on Danny's shoulder, nuzzling him briefly.

Lydia smiled as she watched her boys together. Several Dominants had at one time or another had their eye on Jackson, attracted to his classical good looks, but his anger issues after finding out he had been adopted following the tragic death of his biological parents had made him difficult to dominate, making them leery of taking him on. It had been the private opinion of many that he would either go unclaimed until an older Dominant with a firm hand took a chance on him, or, worst case scenario, end a Sub Club worker, taking the domination he would desperately need from any Dom with money to buy his submission. That line of thought had only increased once an infected werewolf scratch turned him briefly into a kanima. When Lydia had decided she wanted him, it had surprised nearly everyone. More than a few people thought the brash and confident Domme simply couldn't resist a challenge and that in this instance, she would likely fail. But Lydia had patiently set to breaking down the walls Jackson had built up. It had taken some time, but the emotional breakthrough had been both intense and rewarding. Now Jackson was a werewolf, free of the kanima curse, and completely and utterly devoted to her.

When Lydia had made up her mind to take on Jackson's best friend, Danny, as a secondary submissive, few believed she would be successful. Having multiple submissives could be a challenge even for the most experienced Dominants. Lydia had gotten to know Danny while she was working on getting through to Jackson, and they had become friends. He had helped her by hacking into the school's supernatural database to learn about kanimas and how to deal with them. Danny had been grateful to Lydia for what she had done for his friend, whom he secretly adored, even though they were both submissives. He couldn't hide his true feelings from her shrewd eyes, and she found that she didn't care for the idea of Danny one day having to submit to a Dominant when his heart was otherwise occupied. Direct as always, she approached Danny and asked if he would agree to be her second submissive jointly with Jackson. He had been apprehensive at first, until she assured him that he was not in trouble for his feelings and she wasn't angry with him. She also promised to always respect his preferences, so he needn't fear being punished for not serving her in that capacity. After some consideration, Danny had agreed and they had all been together quite happily ever since.

"What am I gonna do if I'm kicked out of the Academy?" Stiles fretted. "It's bad enough I'm the only one of our group not in a claim, this practically guarantees I'll never find a Dom. I'm going to end up living at home forever and die a virgin," he panicked, working himself into an agitated state.

Lydia snapped her fingers in his face, halting his rambling. "That's enough, Stiles," she said sharply, letting command enter her voice. "Headmaster said it was a business meeting. I'm sure it's probably just introducing his nephew to your dad so he knows who he is and that he's legit. It's your dad's job to know who's who and keep the peace. I can't imagine Allison's family will be all that pleased that there's a new Hale in town."

"Isn't he a hottie, though?" purred Erica slyly as she elbowed Stiles in the ribs. "I would drop to my knees for him in a New York second. All he has to do is say the word."

"Oh my god, Erica, that's your Dom's nephew you're talking about!" Stiles yelped incredulously.

Erica shrugged nonchalantly. "Maybe he shouldn't lounge shirtless around the pool in those wet shorts that display his...dominance so enticingly." She rolled her eyes at the open mouthed look Stiles was giving her. "What? I'm claimed, not dead. You can be on a diet and still check out the dessert menu."

"Shirtless? Shorts?" Stiles repeated faintly, eyes wide and looking slightly glazed as his mind ran rampant with images of Derek Hale, dripping wet with swim trunks clinging to him obscenely.

Jackson snorted. "I think you just broke him, Erica. Don't worry, Stilinski. Everyone knows the Hales are the crème de la crème. I can't imagine you being important enough to be on their radar for anything. They'll probably forget you're even there and you can ogle him all you want."

"Jackson!" scolded Lydia, causing him to duck his head in penitence. "You know that's not true. Stiles is going to make some lucky Dominant an excellent submissive one day. Everyone knows Derek Hale isn't in a claim, and I have no doubt that the Alpha is putting pressure on him to claim a submissive. He could do far worse than Stiles."

Stiles gave a quick bark of laughter. "I seriously doubt that's it, Lyds. I mean, Miss Lydia. That's probably completely outside the realm of possibility."

Lydia quirked a sculpted eyebrow at him. "Oh, really? Why do you say that?"

"Well, for starters, did you see him?" Stiles demanded. "I mean, I only got a quick glance, but Jesus, from what I could tell he looks like a freakin' model. We're talking angels probably weep daily over his perfectly sculpted cheekbones. And then, there's me. I mean, yeah, I have no doubt one day a Dom will realize just how awesome I am and be ready to put me on my knees, but I doubt it'll be a supermodel. Let's be real."

"Hmmm, well, perhaps you underestimate yourself, Stiles. Besides, you didn't see what I saw," said Lydia, nonchalantly studying her fingernails.

Stiles frowned at her in puzzlement. "What are you talking about?"

Lydia flashed him a brilliant smile. "Nothing much, really. Just that he looked like he would cheerfully have torn my throat out with his teeth for touching you." She laughed at his stunned expression. "Ah, yes, I can't wait to hear the details of this business dinner."

Stiles looked at her doubtfully. He wondered if she would punish him if he told her bluntly that she had to be seeing things, because there was no way the hottest Dominant he had ever seen was going to be interested in him. Still, it was a nice thought, definitely one for the Stiles collection of spank bank scenarios. The idea of being on his knees and submitting to Derek was enough to make his skin tingle, but no. He couldn't think about that. There was no sense in letting Lydia's teasing give him wild ideas that were best not dwelled on. He was already going to be in enough trouble for getting corner time, and he didn't even want to THINK about what would happen if his dad found out he had sassed Peter as well. He needed to focus on being on his best behavior tonight and not embarrassing himself or his dad, not daydreaming of being claimed and cuffed by Derek Hale.

TBC

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