Pledge Derek Hale, also an omega werewolf (19) needs to prove to three frat brothers, all alpha werewolfs with no knots, Scott McCall, Peter Kavinksy, and Nate Jacobs that he's worthy of the frat. It's late at night after a long day of Derek failing at the pledge competitions. He goes to talk to the three alphas, and he apologizes for his performance and asks if there is anyway he can prove his worth. Scott, leaning back in his chair and spreading is legs with a sigh, says his girlfriend has been gone for a week so if Derek can help him out then he's good to go. Derek has been horny for them for awhile, so Derek is very game for their cocks.

Chapter 2: The Brutal Claiming

The stale beer scent hung thick in the rec room air, underscored now by the sharp, musky tang of Derek’s slick. It pooled beneath him on the worn leather, a dark, wet stain spreading as Nate leaned forward, his shadow swallowing Derek whole. Nate’s dark eyes, chips of obsidian reflecting the dim light, bored into Derek’s. "So," Nate murmured, his voice a low rumble that vibrated in Derek’s chest. "You wanna go any further, pledge? Show us what that eager little omega hole is really for?"

Derek’s throat clicked dryly. His cock throbbed against his thigh, already leaking precome onto the couch. The memory of Scott’s casual proposition – ‘help me out’ – echoed, mingling with the raw ache of his earlier failure. He needed this. Needed to belong. Needed them. He nodded, a jerky, desperate movement. "Yes," he breathed, the word barely audible. "Please."

A predatory grin split Nate’s face. Before Derek could blink, Scott and Peter moved. Hands, strong and unyielding, clamped onto his shoulders and wrists. Scott’s grip was firm, efficient, his hazel eyes holding a detached focus. Peter’s touch was almost lazy, but his fingers dug in possessively, his charming smile sharpening into something hungry. They hauled him forward, flipping him onto his stomach with jarring force. The rough leather scraped his cheek. His hips were wrenched upwards, forcing his spine into a sharp arch that exposed him completely. His hole, slick and glistening, pulsed visibly in the dim light.

"Fuck, look at that," Peter chuckled, his free hand tracing the curve of Derek’s ass cheek, a fingertip brushing the swollen rim. Derek whimpered, pushing back instinctively against the fleeting touch. "Dripping already. Little slut’s made for it."

Nate didn’t waste time. He’d already freed his cock again, thick and flushed dark, the head slick with precome. He positioned himself behind Derek, the blunt tip nudging against the slick entrance. There was no warning, no gentle pressure. Just a brutal, driving thrust that slammed home.

"FUCK!" Derek screamed, the sound ripped from his lungs – a raw blend of agony and ecstasy. Nate’s cock stretched him impossibly wide, a burning invasion that punched the air from his body. He felt split open, filled to bursting. Nate bottomed out in one savage stroke, his hips flush against Derek’s ass cheeks. He paused, savoring the tight, wet clench, letting Derek feel every thick inch buried inside him. "Christ, Hale," Nate groaned, his voice thick with lust. "That slick cunt swallows cock like a fucking dream. Tighter than I expected, too. Feels incredible."

He didn’t wait for Derek to adjust. Nate pulled back almost to the tip, then slammed forward again, setting a punishing rhythm. Each thrust jolted Derek forward, held in place by Scott and Peter’s iron grips. The slap of skin on skin filled the room, sharp and rhythmic against Derek’s ragged moans. Pain flared bright with every inward drive, quickly drowned by a wave of intense, overwhelming pleasure that radiated from his core. His cock bounced untouched, leaking steadily onto the couch cushion beneath him.

"Your turn, McCall?" Nate grunted, not slowing his pace. "Or you wanna watch Kavinsky ruin him first?"

Scott’s gaze flickered over Derek’s prone form, taking in the flushed skin, the trembling limbs, the desperate sounds spilling from his lips. A flicker of something – loneliness, maybe, or just pure need – crossed his face. "My turn," Scott stated, his voice calm but edged with command. "Hold him steady."

Nate withdrew with a wet, sucking sound that made Derek whimper at the sudden emptiness. Scott moved swiftly, shoving Nate aside without ceremony. He spat into his palm, slicked his own hard length – thick, maybe not as brutal as Nate’s but impressively solid – and lined up. He pushed in smoothly, relentlessly, burying himself deep with a low groan. "Fuck, yeah," Scott breathed, his hips rolling in a steadier, deeper rhythm than Nate’s jackhammer pace. "That’s it. Take it." He leaned forward, his breath hot on Derek’s ear. "Just pretend it's her," he murmured, a hint of bitterness beneath the dominance. His thrusts gained intensity, driving Derek harder into the couch.

The fullness was different, Scott’s cock hitting angles Nate hadn’t. Derek moaned, long and low, pushing back eagerly. Pleasure coiled tighter and tighter in his gut, a white-hot wire threatening to snap. He felt Scott’s balls slap against his slick perineum, felt the powerful muscles in Scott’s thighs flexing against his own. "So good, Alpha," Derek gasped, the title slipping out unbidden, desperate. "Feels so fucking good."

Scott fucked him with deep, possessive strokes, his hands tightening on Derek’s hips, leaving bruises that would bloom purple later. Derek felt the pressure building, unstoppable. His untouched cock twitched violently. "Oh god... oh god, Scott... I'm gonna..." The coil snapped. Pleasure detonated through him, blinding and fierce. His cock jerked, spilling thick ropes of come onto the leather beneath him untouched, his ass clenching rhythmically around Scott’s buried cock. "FUCK! YES!" he screamed, body convulsing.

Scott growled, low and satisfied, riding out Derek’s orgasm, his thrusts becoming erratic. "That’s it, take it," he grunted, then stiffened, burying himself to the hilt as his own release pulsed hot and deep inside Derek’s channel. Derek felt the warmth flooding him, a possessive claim that sent another shudder through his oversensitive body.

Before Derek could even catch his breath, Scott pulled out, his spend dripping obscenely from Derek’s stretched hole. Peter was already there, shoving Scott aside. "My turn," he declared, his voice bright with anticipation. He didn’t bother with spit; Derek’s ass was soaked with slick and Scott’s cum. Peter gripped his own cock, angled it, and thrust in hard and fast. "Fuck yeah," Peter moaned, his rhythm immediately selfish and demanding – sharp, shallow thrusts designed purely for his own friction. "God, that used hole feels amazing. So fucking loose and wet now."

He fucked Derek with a single-minded intensity, chasing his own pleasure. Derek felt raw, oversensitive, but the slick kept flowing, easing the friction, and the sheer dominance of being used sent fresh sparks through his nerves. Peter’s hands gripped Derek’s ass cheeks, spreading him wider, fingers digging in. "Look at that," Peter panted, slamming home. "Taking cock like a champion little omega whore. Bet you love this, don't you? Love being our fucktoy?"

"Yes!" Derek gasped, the word torn from him. "Love it! Please!" He felt another orgasm building, a weaker echo of the first but still potent, fueled by degradation and the relentless pounding. Peter’s thrusts became frantic, sloppy. "Gonna fill you up, slut," he groaned. "Mark you inside." He shoved deep, held, and Derek felt the hot pulse as Peter emptied himself, adding to the mess inside him.

Peter collapsed forward for a second, panting against Derek’s back, before pulling out with a wet sigh. Nate was instantly back, his cock still rigid. "Still hungry, Hale?" Nate taunted, his hand roughly stroking Derek’s spent cock, making him flinch. Without waiting for an answer, Nate plunged back into the well-used, cum-slicked hole. Derek cried out, a hoarse sound of overstimulation and surrender. Nate fucked him hard and fast, a brutal reminder of who was truly in control. Derek’s body jerked with each thrust, completely pliant now, a vessel for their dominance. He came again, a weak dribble this time, his body trembling violently.

Nate roared as he finished, slamming deep, his release joining the others already pooling inside Derek. He stayed buried for a long moment, grinding slightly, ensuring every drop was deposited. Finally, he pulled out with a slick, obscene sound.

Silence descended, heavy and thick, broken only by ragged breathing. Derek lay limp on the couch, a trembling wreck. Sweat plastered his dark hair to his forehead. His ass felt swollen, gaping slightly, a mixture of slick and thick alpha seed leaking steadily onto the ruined leather beneath him. The scent of sex – sweat, cum, and Derek’s slick – was overpowering.

Scott stood, adjusting his jeans, his expression unreadable. Peter stretched languidly, a satisfied smirk on his face. Nate wiped himself off with a discarded napkin, his dark eyes scanning Derek’s prone form with a chilling possessiveness.

Derek lay utterly spent, trembling against the leather that now felt cold and sticky beneath him. Every muscle screamed, his ass throbbed hot and open, leaking their combined release onto the couch. Nate’s possessive stare felt like a physical weight pressing down on him.

Scott finally moved, crouching down beside the couch. His hazel eyes scanned Derek’s face, catching the sheen of sweat and the exhaustion etched there. "Hey," Scott said, his voice lower than usual, rough. "You okay, Derek?"

Derek blinked, trying to focus. He managed a shaky nod, pushing himself up onto his elbows with a wince. The movement made more cum trickle down his inner thigh. "Yeah," he rasped, his voice hoarse from screaming. "Just... overwhelmed. Fuck, I just came so fucking hard."

A low chuckle rippled through the room. Peter snorted, zipping his jeans. "Understatement of the century, pledge," he smirked, running a hand through his hair. Nate’s lips curved into that familiar, dangerous smirk as he watched Derek struggle.

Scott offered his hand. Derek hesitated for a split second before taking it, his own fingers slick with sweat. Scott pulled him upright with surprising ease, though Derek’s legs wobbled precariously. He stumbled forward, catching himself against Scott’s chest. The scent of Scott, sweat and pine and sex, mixed with Nate’s darker musk still clinging to his skin, filled Derek’s senses. He felt raw, hollowed out, and impossibly full all at once.

"Steady," Scott murmured, his grip firm on Derek’s bicep until he found his balance. Derek stood naked and exposed, trembling, their seed glistening on his inner thighs, dripping slowly from his used hole. He could feel it, a cooling wetness, a visceral reminder of what they’d just done to him.

Nate stepped closer, his dark eyes raking over Derek’s body with blatant ownership. That smirk hadn't faded. "Overwhelmed's a good start," Nate said, his voice a low purr that vibrated in Derek’s bones. "Shows you felt it. Shows you took it." He reached out, not to steady him like Scott, but to trail a single, possessive finger through the mess on Derek’s stomach. "Got a bright fucking future ahead of you in this frat, Hale. Real bright."

Peter sauntered over, clapping Nate lightly on the shoulder. He grinned, that charming, predatory grin, and winked directly at Derek. "What Nate said," Peter agreed, his gaze lingering on Derek’s spent cock, then drifting lower. "Definitely a bright future. Especially if you keep that asshole slick and ready like it was tonight. Made taking turns a fucking pleasure." His words were casual, laced with an obscene appreciation that made Derek flush despite his exhaustion. The air hung thick with the musk of dominance and satisfaction, the rec room silent except for their breathing and the faint, wet sound of Derek’s body yielding their claim.