
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/700765.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Teen_Wolf_(TV)
  Relationship:
      Derek_Hale/Stiles_Stilinski, Lydia_Martin/Jackson_Whittemore_(mentioned),
      Isaac_Lahey/Danny_Mahealani_(mentioned)
  Character:
      Stiles_Stilinski, Derek_Hale
  Additional Tags:
      First_Time, Loss_of_Virginity, Dirty_Talk, Knotting, Dom/sub_Undertones,
      Biting, Marking, allusions_to_mating, Possessive_Derek, Might_read_as
      Slighty_dub-con_in_parts, But_Stiles_is_completely_consenting
  Series:
      Part 1 of Expectations_'Verse
  Stats:
      Published: 2013-02-26 Words: 2352
****** (K)Not Quite What He Expected ******
by Sugakane_01
Summary
     Losing his virginity is nothing like Stiles expected.
     He expected soft kisses, peaches and cream scented strawberry blonde
     hair and Lydia Martin. Okay, expected is overselling it. He’d hoped
     for Lydia. Or Danny. Or even Ian, the bartender from Jungle that his
     girls Amanda Reckonwith and Juan Nightstand had set him up with last
     weekend.
     Stiles has never, not once, expected or even hoped for Derek Hale.
Notes
     This little ficlet is my attempt to break out of the grip of writer's
     block. Please feel free to point out any glaring errors and since I'm
     still finding my way in this fandom constructive criticism is always
     welcome. I think I tagged everything appropriately but if I missed
     something please let me know and I'll fix it :)
     =====================================================================
See the end of the work for more notes
Losing his virginity is nothing like Stiles expected.
He expected soft kisses, peaches and cream scented strawberry blonde hair and
Lydia Martin. Okay, expectedis overselling it. He'd hoped for Lydia. Or Danny.
Or even Ian, the bartender from Jungle that his girls Amanda Reckonwith and
Juan Nightstand had set him up with last weekend.
Stiles has never, not once, expected or even hoped for Derek Hale.
Not that Stiles isn't attracted to Derek. Stiles has eyes, a pulse and Derek is
nothing if not darkly beautiful-being attracted to Derek is kind of the status
quo around Beacon Hills. He's pretty sure that ninety percent of the people he
knows would climb Derek like a tree if given a chance, and yeah Stiles includes
himself in that number. But the thing is, Stiles has never really thought that
Derek could be attracted to him.
Stiles isn't insecure about his looks, he's just a realist. He's surrounded by
people who look like they stepped out of the pages of a magazine (Erica is a
walking wet dream, Isaac's jawline could cut glass and he's fairly certain that
Boyd is going to grow up to be named one of People's 50 Most Beautiful) and
Stiles is…well not model material. He's on the average to above average end of
the attractiveness scale and that's just fine with Stiles. He works with what
he has and if the way Ian had tried to suck the fillings out of his mouth last
weekend is any indication, Stiles isn't doing too shabby. But Ian, while
definitely aesthetically pleasing, is not Derek Hale levels of hotness. People
who are Derek Hale levels of hotness have sex with other people who are Derek
Hale levels of hotness (proven by both Jackson and Lydia's relationship as well
as Isaac and Danny's). Those are just the rules.
Apparently though Derek never got that memo and Stiles?
Well Stiles, clearly should have adjusted his expectations.
They aren't even dating. Stiles can't even remember spending any significant
one on one time with Derek, let alone anything that could have been a prelude
to romance. If this thing they're doing qualifies as a romance.
Stiles isn't sure it does. One minute they were fighting because Stiles is
stubborn and impulsive and Derek is equally stubborn and has even more control
issues than Stiles does and the next minute they were kissing. Which is a
surprise-the kissing not the fighting. They are a powder keg and a spark and
when it comes to them, explosions are inevitable. Fighting with Derek is
nothing new; in fact it's pretty much their default mode of communication.
Stiles and Derek are a giant ball of sarcasm and cynicism, dry wit and
skepticism, mutual respect cloaked in annoyance and masquerading as
frustration. They are the type of friends that don't really hang out and on the
surface don't have too much in common but underneath are more alike than they
are different and have each other's back with no questions or conditions. That
is who he and Derek are to one another, or at least that's who Stiles thought
they were. Now he's not so sure.
The thing about Derek is that he's willful and guarded and so tightly
controlled that Stiles can't help but poke at him sometimes, push just to test
the limits of that control, prod at him to try to break it. Derek has all these
walls and limits and boundaries and Stiles has never met a boundary he didn't
at least tryto cross or a limit that he didn't attempt to push and the
emotional minefield that is Derek Hale is no exception. Stiles pushes and tests
and challenges because that's who he is and Derek pushes back and stands firm
and answers back because that's who Derek is and the way they are together is
not meaningful or special.
At least that's what Stiles has been telling himself.
Now he's not so sure. Because right now, he's at Derek's loft, in Derek's bed
and the way Derek is touching him and the things Derek keeps saying to him sure
as hell make Stiles feellike this is something meaningful and special.
Stiles is on his back, stretched out long and lean with his arms above his head
and both of his wrists encircled in one of Derek's hands. The remains of his
shirt are hanging off him in ragged strips because Derek shredded it with his
claws. His pants and boxers are halfway across the room where Derek threw
them.He's pinned to the bed beneath Derek's body weight and Derek is on top of
him, biting down on his throat and growling and talking abouthow long he's
waited and how Stiles is his and how Derek's going to claim him.
Stiles finds all of that vaguely confusing and hot as hell. Stiles is pretty
sure his brain to cock filter is broken because his brain is throwing all sorts
of flags on the play and insisting that he needs to get Derek's dick out of his
ass so they can talk but his cock?
His cock is very much not on board with any sort of stopping or waiting or
talking unless it's more of Derek's particular version of audio pornography.
So yeah, brain to cock filter-completely non functional.
Stiles is having sex with Derek and Stiles is pretty sure it's the best sex in
the history of sex. The pillows are on the floor. The sheets have come off of
one corner of the mattress. The comforter is pooled at the foot of the bed. The
headboard is banging against the wall and the lamp on the nightstand is
perilously close to falling over the edge. One more good thump and-
And yep, Derek needs a new lamp.
Not that Derek seems to have any fucks to give because he doesn't stop. Derek
doesn't even slow down to pay his respects to the passing of the lamp. He just
keeps going, fucking into Stiles and licking on his Adam's apple and gripping
his thighs hard enough to bruise. Stiles has already come, he was gone pretty
much the second Derek found his prostate because teenage boy +virgin+Derek Hale
levels of hotness + prostate stimulation=orgasm.
Yay.
Stiles is riding this edge of pleasure pain where the oversensitivity is almost
too much but still not quite enough because this is Derekand it feels so good
and Stiles doesn't want him to stop.
He doesn't ever want him to stop.
And Derek seems totally on board with not stopping. He keeps going, finding all
the spots that make Stiles shiver and curse and beg and whimper. Derek is wild
and demanding and his knees are sliding up the sheets just a little with how
hard he's pushing himself into Stiles. Derek's voice is raw, wrecked while
making fervent promises and lavishing filthy praise and telling Stiles that
he's never going to let him go, that Stilescan't leave, that if Stiles ever
tried to leave Derek would hunt him down, drag him back and fuck the submission
into him.
And that brain to cock filter? Still broken because that little tidbit right
there has Stiles coming untouched, screaming out Derek's name as he spills
between them and then Derek is moving, pulling out and flipping Stiles over,
hauling him up to his hands and knees and thrusting back into him a half-dozen
more times before shaking apart above him and coming, pulsing hot and sticky
deep inside of Stiles.
Stiles is done. He's beyond done. He's shaky and exhausted and his body is
trembling and he's completely and utterly spent but Derek doesn't seem to be
finished because he just grips Stiles's hips tighter, presses in even deeper
and holds himself still.
And that's when shit gets real.
Because Derek isn't softening or pulling out. He's getter harder and bigger and
what the ever loving fuckthicker and this shit right here is some sort of under
negotiated kink or bad sex etiquette or something because Stiles is pretty sure
he's being knottedand that is not a thing that Stiles was aware was even on the
table or you know, existed outside of the animal kingdom, dubious porn and
fanfiction.
'You did not just shove your freaky werewolf knot up my ass without my
permission', is what Stiles means to say.
But before he can Derek is talking to him again. Telling him how good he feels
and whispering about how he takes it so good just for Derek and how he was made
for him and how Derek is going to keep him open and fucked out and stuffed
fullso what ends up coming out is a muffled cry halfway between a sob and a
moan.
"D'rek", Stiles slurs. "Derek," he tries again.
"Shh," Derek soothes. "It's okay. Just breathe and relax. You're doing so good,
just a little bit more baby. Just take a little bit more," he purrs.
And it's not like Stiles is in a position to say no seeing as how Derek is
locked inside him, stretching him out and filling him full. And truth be told,
with Derek looking at him the way he is, like Stiles is something precious to
him, his voice soft with something like reverence, Stiles doesn't want to say
no. He wants to keep that look on Derek's face, the one Stiles seldom gets to
see where he actually looks happy.
Stiles would do just about anything to keep that look on Derek's face.
So Stiles just groans and forces himself to relax and tries to breathe into the
stretch. Which doesn't really work because there's a fucking knot the size
of…well Stiles isn't sure what it's the size of but it feels pretty fucking
substantial and it's in his ass so Stiles is pretty sure relaxing, no matter
how highly motivated he may be, is not a thing that's going to happen.
Derek is running a comforting, almost apologetic hand up and down his side and
pressing kisses into his skin and trying to hold himself still but Stiles can't
and every time he moves he gets hit with another jolt of too big too much take
it out take it out take it outthat makes him think that while relaxing it out,
crying is an actual thing that might happen.
Even so, Stiles's dick makes a valiant effort to rise to the occasion yet again
but that's just not happening because even seventeen year old boys have a
refractory period so Little Stiles just sort of gives an interested twitch
every once in a while. Stiles would be embarrassed except he can't concentrate
on anything other than the feel of Derek inside of him and on top of him and
the way he seems to be all around Stiles, blotting out and erasing everything
else.
When the stretch and burn finally stop and Stiles can breathe again, Derek
takes him by surprise and gently-far more gently than Stiles ever thought Derek
could be- pushes them down so that Stiles isn't supporting his weight on
shaking limbs anymore and arranging them so they are both on their sides.
Then he moves again, rolling his hips forward and oh sweet Jesus.
Suddenly Stiles is a lot less take it take it out take it out take it out and a
lot more leave in for the love of God leave it in.
Because this? Feels awesome.
Stiles isn't sure if it's the change in position or if he's just gotten used to
the having Derek's knot inside him but Stiles is suddenly very much a fan of
this whole knotting thing. Sparks of pleasure shoot up through him as Derek
rocks against him, promising Stiles that he'll fill him up, mark him up, make
him smell like his so everyone knows. Between the absolute filth pouring out of
Derek's mouth and the sensations rocking through his body Stiles has turned
into a writhing, moaning mess. Derek's moving torturously slow, keeping
Stiles's prostate constantly stimulated and he's calling him a good boy and
Stiles is too strung out on pleasure to even make the obvious dog joke. Derek
just keeps going, telling Stiles how he's going to put his ring on his finger
and his collar around his neck and his mark onto his skin. The next thing
Stiles knows Derek is biting down on the back of his neck and has his hand
wrapped around Stiles's cock and he's stroking him and it all just feels so
goodthat Stiles is tumbling back into the abyss, almost sobbing out in pleasure
as he climaxes, involuntarily tightening around Derek and pushing the Alpha
into his own orgasm, pumping his seed into Stiles, coating his insides and
filling him full.
Then Derek is moving them again, settling them, his hips flush to Stiles's ass,
Derek's knot keeping them locked together.
And Stiles expects that this is where things are going to get awkward because
they're stuck there, and they can't leave and neither of them smokes or is
particularly good at sharing their feelings or whatever else it is you're
supposed to do post coital.
Once again though, Derek turns Stiles's expectations on their head.
Apparently jizzing his brains out turns Derek into a talkative, tactile, cuddle
slut. He can't seem to stop touching Stiles. Dragging his fingers through his
hair, peppering little kisses across his shoulders, licking at the mouth shaped
bruise on the back of Stiles's neck, running his fingers over the curve of
Stiles's hip, stroking his stomach, petting his thighs, telling him they're
meant to be and calling him beautiful and perfect and his.
This isn't at all how Stiles expected losing his virginity to go. He didn't
expect Derek, he didn't expect all the confusing, conflicted feelings and he
didn't expect to feel like he'd given himself away and claimed someone else all
at the same time.
Stiles didn't expect any of this.
He didn't expect it, but he has absolutely no regrets.
End Notes
     Just a quick FYI, the part where Stiles is downplaying his looks is
     just my idea on how he views himself. I think Stiles has a pretty
     healthy self-esteem but he really is sort of surrounded by the
     pretty, popular, beautiful people so his own ability to access
     himself might be a little skewed. Personally I think he's hot like
     fire and the most unrealistic part of Teen Wolf-even more so than the
     werewolves, hunters and Kanimas- is that no one in that entire school
     has tried to tap Stiles like a maple tree.
     Kids these days *shakes head*. In my day we'd have been all up on
     that. Just all up on it lol.
     Anyway, I hope you guys enjoyed this and feel free to come by my
     Tumblr and say hi :)
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