
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/489815.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Teen_Wolf_(TV)
  Relationship:
      Derek_Hale/Stiles_Stilinski
  Character:
      Derek_Hale, Stiles_Stilinski
  Additional Tags:
      Blow_Jobs, Oral_Sex, Humor, Oral_Fixation, Romance, Smut
  Stats:
      Published: 2012-08-18 Words: 3045
****** Stiles' Oral Fixation ******
by brisingrdraumar, echowolves
Summary
     Derek should be worried about his newfound obsession with all things
     related to Stiles' mouth, and the objects that go in and/or around
     it.
Notes
See the end of the work for notes
1.
Derek watched as the tip disappeared into Stiles' lush mouth. It was torturous
and mesmerizing, watching the slow drag of Stiles’ lips against the length. He
couldn’t tear his eyes away if his life depended on it. He watched as Stiles
pulled away to lick at his lips before replacing the tip his full pink mouth,
it was positively sinful. Derek just managed to catch (what could only be
described as) a squeak from escaping him. Never in his life had he wished to be
an inanimate object before; goddamn that pen. Who knew research could be so
sexy?
2.
Lollipops were a special invention created by the devil to tempt Derek into
sin. Not that Derek believed in the devil, or cared about things like sin...it
was the principle of the matter (or something). Stiles was looking up some
information for Derek… he’s not sure what the information was, but he’s almost
sure that it was important. Almost. He watched as Stiles mouth darkened a shade
of red every time he slipped the candy between his lips, glad that no one was
around to notice where his attention had been focused for, oh say, since he had
arrived. Who gave children lollipops these days? Clearly, the person who gave
Stiles that lollipop was a pedo, a terrible, terrible pedo. Now that Stiles was
nearly done with the treat, it was a nearly obscenely dark red with a sheen of
saliva to accent them. Derek could handle all of these things just fine.
However, as the lollipop shrank Stiles switched from idly playing with, it to
actively sucking at it, even going so far as to hollow out his cheeks. Stiles
pulled the lollipop from his mouth with a filthy pop. Derek was out the window
and running before he realized that Stiles might find his reaction unusual.
3.
Stiles was an odd kid, anyone in Beacon Hills would be able to tell you that,
and Derek was used to it. Honestly, he was, and he was so sure there was
nothing left about the kid that could either surprise him or make him find
Stiles even odder. That was until Derek watched him drink from a straw.
Drinking from a straw, a toddler could do it, a simple and straight forward
task. Unless you happen to be Stiles. Because, for Stiles, drinking from a
straw involves first putting the straw in your mouth, bending the top, and then
sipping from the straw. Which, wouldn't be a problem, except that isn’t how
normal straws are made to work. This means that in order for Stiles to actually
get anything from the straw he had to suck at it harder. Derek watched,
captivated, as Stiles drank from his straw, his cheeks hollowed and his damn
cheekbones looking even sharper for it. Derek shifted in his seat, subtly
attempting to find a... less constricting position.
The pack had dispersed around the club as soon as they arrived; tonight was
about letting loose and having fun. While the rest of the pack is around
dancing, Derek is Stiles watching. The only problem was Derek wasn’t the only
one watching. Stiles was now moving his mouth to the left side of his face as
he drank from his bent straw, using his tongue to push it from his mouth and
swallowed -accenting his (adorable) dimples. Derek was unable to withhold a
growl, lucky, that the deafeningly loud music covered the sound. He grabbed
Stiles' straw, yanking it from his mouth, and threw it over his shoulder. He
ignored the indignant "Hey!" from Stiles and bared his teeth at him. He
responded with a very mature “Shut up,” before walking away.
4.
Derek should be worried about his newfound obsession with all things related to
Stiles' mouth, and the objects that go in and/or around it. Or perhaps at least
worried about someone else noticing the fact that Derek can’t force his eyes
away from Stiles’ mouth, even when it’s not doing licentious things like
licking his lips (I mean really how many times does a person have to lick his
or her lips in a single ten minute period!) Instead, he found himself wondering
exactly how many different objects the average human puts in their mouth on a
daily bases. Whatever the number, Stiles had to be at least doubling it, which,
honestly, could not be very sanitary.
For instance, Derek was currently watching Stiles lick at his own finger.
Stiles was making dinner for the pack, slicing vegetables because the pack
needed to eat healthier, when the knife slipped and he sliced his finger. Derek
watched as Stiles unthinkingly put the slightly oozing appendage in his mouth,
his pink lips turning a velvety red.
Stiles lightly sucked at it to slow the bleeding as he attempted to grab a
napkin one handed. It didn’t work since he was unable to rip the napkin from
the roll with only one hand, the roll just unraveled as he attempted to pull
one away. “A little help here?” Stiles asked, the words muffled by the finger
still in his mouth.
Derek nearly drooled at the way Stiles lips wrapped around the digit. Derek
forced himself to move, and tore a napkin off and handed it to Stiles, turning
his back on him so that he could concentrate on winding the roll back up and
not the way that Stiles lips seem to have swollen a bit from the sucking.
“Thank you,” Stiles said, as Derek turned around. His finger now wrapped up
tightly to keep the blood from spreading. “Do you think you could-“ Derek found
that he couldn’t listen to Stiles talk anymore. Considering he has listened to
him ramble for (seriously) hours, his inability to concentrate on the words was
actually surprising. Or would have been, if there wasn’t just a small amount of
blood collected at the curve of Stiles’ mouth. Just a small drop, just a small
little insignificant drop…it would be terribly impolite of Derek not to clean
it up. Derek darted forward quickly and licked the drop up, leaving Stiles’
face clean.
Stiles stood with his mouth hanging open, silent and shocked. “You should get a
band aid on that before you finish cooking.” Derek said with a smirk, walking
into the den to sit amongst the rest of the pack.
+1.
Derek shut the door behind Isaac, the last of the pack to leave. Well…the
second to last to leave. Stiles was still puttering in the kitchen, filling the
dishwasher, putting the leftovers away, and generally being a sexually
frustrating nuisance. He sighed, turning to lean against the door, and thumped
his head against the wood. Listening to the soft noises coming from the
kitchen, he tried to come to a consensus with himself on what his plan of
action should be.
“Hey, Derek?” Game over.
He pushed himself away from the door and entered the kitchen to see what Stiles
needed. “Yeah?”
The boy was bending over, looking in the cupboard under the sink. He looked up
and over his shoulder when he heard Derek’s voice, “Where is your dishwasher
soap?”
Derek walked over and opened the other side of the cabinet; reaching in, he
pulled out the unopened soap pouch and handed it to him wordlessly. Stiles
thanked him and used both hands to bring it up to his mouth.
“You better not open that shit with your teeth Stilinski, so help me…” Derek’s
mouth was in a snarl and he held himself completely still.
Stiles looked up at him, his mouth open, preparing to stick the corner of the
pouch in his teeth to rip the top off, “Uh…ok then,” he licked his lips, “Do
you have some scissors or some—ok, that works.”
Derek had taken the pouch out of his hands and tore the plastic, making the
little packets fly everywhere, his eyes never leaving Stiles. “Hey, that was
handy. Or would have been if they hadn’t gone everywhere. You know the plastic
has perforations at the top? They’re so you can zip it back up and have
somewhere to keep the little soap balloons or whatever they’re called. Now we
have to find somewhere to put them, because if those puppies get wet you’ll
have gooey soap puddles just begging for your wood to warp and to let mildew
come stay for a while. And let me tell you, mildew is like one of those guests
that never freaking leaves. It’ll eat you out of house and home and make your
delicate olfactory sensors rebel, and bro, you are going to be headache and
sneeze central. Plus, you only just got your house all fixed up, and wouldn’t
that be a shame if—hey is your eye twitching?”
“I think I liked it better when you were shoving things in your mouth,” Derek
crowded Stiles up against the counter.
His eyes widened, “I—what?” He didn’t get the chance to say anything else,
because as much as Stiles can talk, doing so around someone else’s tongue just
isn’t feasible, even for him.
Derek growled at the faint taste of blood, just a hint of it lingering
underneath the tang from dinner and the creaminess from dessert. It wasn’t
enough, and Derek sucked at Stiles’ tongue, scraped teeth across his lips,
looking for more. Stiles moaned, arching into the hard body against him and
kissed back, whimpering when he felt Derek’s hands slide under his shirt and up
his back.
Stiles wrenched his head away panting, and avoided Derek’s lips when the older
man tried to reconnect them, “Derek, Derek. I want to try something,” the
werewolf had moved onto nipping and suckling at Stiles’ neck, “Oooooh, god,
Derek… Stop that! I can’t even think!”
“Do you need to?” Derek’s face was still buried in Stiles’ neck. He got his
words out between sucking a bite here, and licking a stripe there.
Stiles bit out another groan, “Yes!”
Derek straightened, backing away and dragging the back of a hand across his
mouth, “Sorry. I’m…Sorry.”
“No!” Stiles pulled at Derek’s pants’ pockets, tugging him back in, “I just
want to try something. I’ve been thinking about it forever. Can I, please?” He
licked his lips and bit the bottom one, looking at Derek with wide eyes.
Derek rubbed his hands on the waistband of Stiles’ jeans, “Yeah, sure. Whatever
you want.”
Stiles smiled at him and pushed him backwards, steering him by the hips over to
the kitchen table and sat him in one of the chairs, all the while he babbled,
“I can’t get this out of my head. Every time I see you this is all I could
think about,” he sank to his knees and spread Derek’s thighs, scooting in
between them as close to the other man as he could get, “I don’t know why. Even
when I jack off I sometimes have to put my fingers in my mouth because it’s not
good enough when I’m empty. Not when I’m thinking about this: about you laid
out, or sat down, or standing up, and me just like this in front of you. Oh,
god!” He dug the heel of one hand down on his cock while he pawed at Derek’s
belt.
The alpha pushed Stiles’ hand away and tore at his pants himself. Getting them,
finally, blessedly open, he pushed them down his hips a little bit—just enough
to yank at the waistband of his boxers and fully free his dick. Stiles reached
in and tugged his balls out too. He nuzzled the soft skin on the underside of
his cock, mouthing wetly at the thick vain there, “I’ve never done this
before,” he murmured, “so you’ll have to tell me if it’s ok.”
Derek scratched blunt nails across the boy’s shoulders; “You’re doing just
fine,” His words came out with a rough growl.
Stiles hummed and opened his mouth, licking and sucking on the sensitive spot
just underneath the head. He dragged his mouth back down along the vain and
lightly drew his teeth along the skin at the base. Derek’s hips jerked at that,
and he gasped, moaning low in his throat. Stiles rode the momentum, running his
nose along the delicate skin of Derek’s sac. Moving back up the shaft, he
dragged his lower lip over the tip, collecting the slick moisture there.
Pulling back, he wiped the pad of his finger across his mouth, tongue following
in its wake. Stiles looked at his wet digit and rubbed the pre-come between his
finger and thumb then brought it to his mouth. He sucked on his fingertip, and
hummed lowly, closing his eyes. He switched to his thumb before pulling his
hand away altogether, and bending back toward the cock in front of him. It
wasn’t until Stiles’ mouth was back on him that Derek realized that Stiles had
never gotten a band aid. The finger he had just finished sucking on was the
same one he had cut earlier in the evening, and the pressure from his mouth had
reopened the cut; blood was beading along wound. Derek groaned at the sight,
and tugging Stiles’ hand up, he shoved the fingertip into his own mouth. He
suckled lightly, rolling his tongue along the cut, tasting himself and Stiles
mixed together: just like they should be.
Stiles’ breath hitched at the light pain mingling and fusing with the pleasure
that’s coursing through him. Helpless against the feeling, he panted, mouth
open and tongue working, against Derek’s cock. He closed his lips around the
glans, sucking lightly at first, then harder when he felt more liquid land
against his tongue. He swallowed and sucked again, licking roughly and digging
the point of the muscle into the leaking slit. Swallowing again, he flattened
his tongue felt the tip push further back into his mouth. Stiles took a deep
breath and, lowering his head, he let Derek slip into his throat.
“Fuck! Shit! I thought you’ve never done this before?” Derek yelled, Stiles’
hand falling away from his face and his fingers like talons on Stiles’
shoulders, nails still blunt and human.
The boy pulled back just long enough to husk out, “Practiced with stuff.
Bananas, mostly,” before shoving his mouth back down.
Stiles took Derek back into his throat and swallowed around him and Derek
muttered something that sounded a lot like, “Pens and produce, Jesus Christ…”
He grabbed the head in his lap and thrust it down further, impaling the boy on
his cock. Stiles went limp, moaning when Derek lifted his head back up—the
sound guttering out when he was shoved back down again, and let the older man
use him. Derek had his eyes closed and head thrown back, one hand in his own
hair, and one in Stiles’. He used his palm to maneuver the boy on and off his
cock, and Stiles did his best to swallow and suck, using his tongue when he
could, while Derek groaned and fucked his mouth.
Derek’s breath started coming in ragged pants, hitching on every intake and
stuttering on every exhale. He looked down at Stiles, the boy had his eyes
rolled up, watching him. He locked eyes with Stiles and brought his other hand
down to cradle the boy’s face, holding it still while he rolled his hips. Two
rolls, three, and he goes rigid, tensing every muscle for a breathless moment.
Derek came, howling and snarling, eyes still locked on Stiles’ as he rakes his
fingers down the boy’s shirt, shredding it.
A few beats go by as Derek empties himself down Stiles’ throat. He finally
relaxes, loosening his hold on the boy at his feet. Derek collapses against the
back of the chair, breathing heavy and letting out the sporadic low whine as he
runs his hands over Stiles’ short hair and scratches lightly at his scalp. He
looked down at the boy, “Come up here.”
Stiles blinked up at him and smiled around Derek’s softening cock. He pulled
back, mouth soft with exhaustion, and a pearly bead of saliva or come (Derek
didn’t know what…probably both) ran from his pliant lips to the cockhead in
front of him. Noticing it, Stiles leant forward again; sucking a lazy kiss to
Derek’s slit, gathering the remaining wetness with his tongue, nibbling on his
lip as he pulled back. Derek dragged a thumb across Stiles’ puffy mouth, and
tugged at the boy’s chin, silently telling him again to get up and Stiles
scrambled up to straddle the seated man. Once he was seated, Derek lifted him
up and laid him down on the table, hands going for Stiles’ buttons when the
smell hit him. He smirked up at the blushing boy and cupped the wet spot on his
jeans, “And what’s this?”
Stiles just groaned and threw an arm across his eyes, “I may or may not have
already came…twice,” his voice was deep and rasping.
“Twice?” Derek folded his arms across Stiles’ chest and set his chin on them,
looking up at the boy.
Stiles lowered his arm from his face and peered at Derek, “Yeah…once when we
sort of first started and again when you, uhm. When you grabbed me and just
went to town. That was—that was nice,” he winced at the lame word, but the look
on Derek’s face told him that he understood.
“I’ve noticed that you’re very orally fixated.”
Stiles blushed even brighter, “Uh…sorry?”
“Don’t be. I like it,” he caught Stiles’ eyes with his own, “I hated it at
first, but…in light of recent events, I think I’ve changed my mind.”
Stiles looked incredulous, “You think?”
Derek grinned wide, smiling with way too much teeth, “I’m not opposed to a
little reinforcement,” he felt Stiles harden a bit underneath him and grinned
even wider, “and it looks like you aren’t either.”
With that, Derek hoisted Stiles up, flinging him over his shoulder and trotted
up the stairs. Slamming the door and tossing the boy onto his bed, Derek yanked
his belt out of its loops and threw it to the floor, “You are damned lucky it
isn’t a school night.”
End Notes
     brisingrdraumar wrote the actual porn so if you liked it you should
     check out the rest of her stuff (it's awesome!).
     p.s. enjoy_these_gif_of_stiles_drinking_from_a_straw
     You can hit us up on Jadecorpsebride's_Tumblr and brisingrdraumar's
     Tumblr.
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