
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/566505.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Teen_Wolf_(TV)
  Relationship:
      Derek_Hale/Stiles_Stilinski
  Character:
      Derek_Hale, Stiles_Stilinski
  Additional Tags:
      Anal_Sex, Dirty_Talk, bottom!Derek, Bottom_Derek, Barebacking,
      Top!Stiles, Rough_Sex
  Series:
      Part 3 of Unrated_Scenes_That_Were_Cut_From_The_Show
  Stats:
      Published: 2012-11-18 Words: 2633
****** Tell Me You Don't Fantasize About Me ******
by ColetheWolf
Summary
     Derek stumbles onto a stash of porno magazines in Stiles bedroom
     while they wait for Danny to come over and trace a text. One thing
     leads to another and Derek gladly bottoms out for Stiles.
Notes
     I've decided to go back and write fics as little in-between scenes
     from Teen Wolf episodes. This is following the plot-line of episode
     1x09 "Wolfs Bane"
See the end of the work for more notes
“I’m very proud.” Sheriff Stilinski says smiling at Stiles. His son is going to
play his very first Lacrosse game after being on the bench for the entirety of
the past two seasons. It sure is something to be proud over.
“Uh, me too…again. I’m—“ Stiles awkwardly mumbles out, leaning against the
outside of his bedroom door trying to draw attention away from the fact that
Derek Hale was hiding in his bedroom. Stiles juts forward to meet his father in
a tender hug. They share a few pats on the back, but Stiles just wants to hurry
their friendly conversation to an end.
“Huggie….huggie huggie.” Stiles mutters quietly under his breath adding to the
awkwardness in the hallway. The hug ends leaving Sheriff slightly puzzled to
why his son was acting in such a bizarre manner. Who knows? Stiles was just
being Stiles.
“See ya there.” Sheriff finishes before walking downstairs and leaving to take
care of his errands.
“Take it easy!” Stiles blurts out quickly, excited that his father was finally
leaving and that the risk of his dad finding a fugitive in his room was
completely erased from possibilities. Stiles lets out a loud, relieved sigh
before heading back into his room. He gets only a second to close his bedroom
door before Derek is hauling him against it.
“If you say one word…” Derek begins in a threat while he pushes Stiles’ back
harder into the wooden door.
“Oh what? You mean like, hey dad…Derek Hale’s in my room. Bring your gun?”
Stiles retorts, watching Derek’s face shift into a softer glare. “Yeah that’s
right. If I’m harboring your fugitive ass, it’s my house, my rules buddy.”
Stiles hits Derek’s shoulder in a hard tap asserting his authority over the
situation.
Slight fear shoots through Stiles’ body once he realizes that he just hit Derek
Hale. It wasn’t hard contact, but it was still a hit. What even possessed him
to actually think he was allowed to do that? “I’m so fucking dead.” Stiles
thinks to himself as he watches Derek.
Derek just looks down to where the teen tapped his shoulder, then looks back at
Stiles and nods silently in agreement to what Stiles said. He removes his tight
grip Stiles’ shirt and fixes the teen’s jacket.
Stiles lets out a breath of relief and snickers at the acknowledgement that
Derek isn’t as scary as he seems. He fixes Derek’s jacket in a smug fashion
before walking towards his computer desk. As Stiles walks by, Derek lunges
forward in just one last attempt to frighten the teen. It works, but
nevertheless, Stiles had power of the situation.
“Oh. My God…” Stiles trails off as he sits down at his computer desk and sighs.
“Scott didn’t get the necklace?” Derek asks, his hands casually in his leather
jacket pockets as he stares to Stiles for an answer.
“No. He’s still working on it. But there’s something else we can try…” Stiles
pauses for dramatic effect and Derek steps forward awaiting a further
explanation. “The night we were trapped at the school, Scott sent a text to
Allison asking her to meet him there.”
“So?” Derek questioned looking confused.
“So it wasn’t Scott.” Stiles explains.
“So can you find out who sent it?” Derek asks, getting more interested in
conversation to some extent.
“No. Not me,” Stiles stops speaking and turns his chair so that he’s facing his
computer. “But I think I know someone who can.” He finishes as he starts typing
in an open online chat interface.
“Quit it with the confusing pieces of information. Either explain the whole
plan, or don’t speak at all.” Derek orders while taking off his jacket and
throwing it to the floor.
“My friend Danny knows how to trace a text. If I can convince him to do it…
then we’ll have our mystery texter.” Stiles explains as he types an instant
message to Danny.
[Dude, you’re still coming over for lab work right?]
Stiles skims over the message in a proofread as quick as he can before he’s
pressing send. He taps eagerly around his laptop desktop awaiting a message
back. It says Danny is online, so it shouldn’t be long for Danny to reply back.
[Yeah. I’ll be over soon. I need to pick up some books from Jackson’s so give
me about 30 minutes.]
Stiles jumps in excitement when the message pops up on his screen with an alert
tone.
“Okay, he’ll be over here in about 30 minutes…so we—“Stiles begins as he turns
his chair to look over at Derek who is snooping through a pile of ‘Stiles Time’
magazines that Stiles had placed strategically behind the headboard of his bed.
Stiles jumps up from the chair and rushes over to Derek.
“What the hell are you doing?! Did I say ‘my house, my rules’ and also you can
go ahead and snoop through my personal shit?! Do werewolves respect private
things and or personal space?” Stiles yells, flailing his arms trying to get
the magazines from Derek’s clutches.
“’Beefy Bottoms’...’Spank Bank 101’…’Older Hunks’…” Derek reads the titles of
the three magazines he holds in his hands with a smirk. “Is this the kind of
shit these companies make profit off nowadays? By the looks of the titles,
these can’t be very good.” Derek laughs and opens the magazine “Beefy Bottoms”
to a page that’s slightly folded at its corner.
The page is a spread sheet, plastered with pictures of a guy apparently named
“Ridge”. The guy is medium build, with jet black hair, a nice tan, and very
sharp cheekbones complete with stubble. A grand total of eight pictures depict
Ridge sucking other guys off, multiple guys at once. Most of them are of Ridge
getting completely owned by other guys.
“So…Ridge,” Derek begins and looks up from the magazine to raise an eyebrow at
Stiles before looking back down. “Six foot one feet tall, 7 ½ inches cut, power
bottom…” Derek laughs slightly then looks at Stiles.
“How did you even find that? I seriously put a lot of thought to where I hid
it.” Stiles asks while his face grows more red with embarrassment.
“I smelled it.” Derek explains with a smirk.
“So what, werewolves love sniffing out the smell paper?” Stiles questions,
crossing his arms and tapping his foot.
“Not the paper. I smelled you. Your cum.” Derek skims through the magazine for
a second. “You’ve certainly had your fun with this magazine, haven’t you
Stiles? Especially this page.” Derek turns the magazine to show Stiles the
spreadsheet of Ridge.
“Ridge. Is he your go to guy that gets you off the quickest?” Derek snickers.
“You know, he looks a lot like me. But you know that already…don’t you?”
Stiles’ face is bright red with a slight shine of sweat on his forehead from
nervousness.
“I…um no. He doesn’t look anything like you…now give me them and get off my
back about it.” Stiles yells and grabs the magazines from Derek’s hand.
“So you don’t look at this guy while you jerk off?” Derek stands up and walks
over to Stiles. “Tell me you don’t think about me while you do it. Tell you
fantasize about me bottoming for you. Really, tell me.” Derek whispers into
Stiles’ air menacingly, yet seductively.
“I—I don’t.” Stiles chokes out.
Derek leans in towards Stiles’ ear. “Really? Because I think you do. I think
you lay here on your bed every night and jerk off to the thought of me getting
on my knees before taking you down my throat. I think you dream of spreading my
legs only to thrust into me. I bet when you finally shoot your load, you
imagine shooting it deep inside me…filling me up.”
“uh…i…um..no, I really don’t Derek.” Stiles can barely even talk as he feels
Derek’s hot breaths against his neck and ear.
“Don’t lie to me Stiles. That magazine is covered with dried cum. I smell you
getting hard every time you’re around me. Right now even…” Derek lets his hand
grip Stiles’ cock through the coarse fabric of jeans. He strokes it gently,
taking extra time to enjoy the pounding pulsations of blood filling Stiles to
completely hardness.
“This is your chance Stiles. Tell me what you want me to do. Take charge.
Demand me. Order me. Force me.” Derek whispers into Stiles ear with a sexy
smirk.
“I…I don’t know how to do this.” Stiles explains between moans as Derek grips
his cock harder.
Derek’s stifled laughter shoots into Stiles’ ear. “It’s not that hard Stiles.
When you want me to do something, tell me to do it…I’ll start.” Derek unbuckles
Stiles’ jeans and lowers to his knees. He shivers as the leather of Stiles’
belt brushes against his own forearm. Derek unbuttons Stiles’ jeans and unzips
the fly while he mouths at the throbbing outline of Stiles. He lets the jeans
fall down to Stiles’ ankles and nearly moans when he finds out Stiles isn’t
boxers.
Derek wraps his burly, calloused hand wraps around Stiles’ girth and gives it a
few stimulating tugs. “Unexpected…” Derek mumbles in an intoxicated slur of
lust. Derek focuses on stroking Stiles slightly harder and gladly laps up the
pre-cum that leaks from the slit.
Stiles lets his head fall back, taking in deep breaths. “Wha—what’s unexpected?
No underwear?”
“That too…but, your size…” Derek doesn’t explain any further. Instead he looks
up at Stiles with a suggestive grin.
“What do you want Stiles? What do you want me to do? Tell me.” Derek asserts.
Stiles clutches the back of Derek’s head and roughly forces himself past
Derek’s lips and down Derek’s throat. He moans and hesitantly bucks forward
without control. “God dammit Derek…” Stiles cries out in a breathless whisper.
His fingers thread through the soft, and gelled fluff that is Derek’s hair.
Derek’s stubble prickles against the sensitive skin of Stiles’ inner thigh.
With Stiles still stuffed down his throat, Derek grasps onto the teenager’s ass
and urges Stiles to thrust harder into his mouth. Stiles takes the hint and
begins fucking short, choked, and gagged moans out of Derek’s throat. Saliva
leaks out of the corners of Derek’s lips while he continues working his wicked
tongue on the cock in his mouth.
Derek pulls Stiles out for a short moment to catch his breath and wipe the spit
that has collected on his chin. He locks into a gaze with Stiles’ hazel eyes as
he takes the boy back deep into his throat. Derek nibbles carefully on the slit
of Stiles’ cock, teasing it, and bombarding the teen’s already weak body with
unbearable pleasure.
“Fuck!” Stiles yells out and pulls out of Derek’s throat. Derek lets out a
groan at the loss.
“Bed. The bed…” Stiles mutters almost incoherently with his head spinning from
nearly blowing his load.
Derek understands what Stiles is trying to say. He stands up from his kneeled
down position and sits down on the bed. He kicks his shoes off, letting them
fly across the room banging against the wall. Derek unbuckles his belt in a mad
dash to get undressed. He pulls his tight jeans down his muscular thighs and
tosses them onto a nearby chair. He repeats the action as he takes off his
boxers.
Derek lies down on his back and waits for Stiles to get on him.
Stiles watches the werewolf undress. He notices how harmless and vulnerable
Derek looks when he’s horny and ready to be fucked. Stiles steps out of his
jeans that are wrapped at his ankles as he takes off his shirts. He makes his
way towards Derek who is laying down on his bed.
Stiles slithers up Derek’s steamy body, placing his knee strategically between
Derek’s thighs. He takes Derek’s mouth in a lust filled embrace, letting his
tongue battle intensely with Derek’s. Brief, broken groans and moans between
the two fill the bedroom as Derek writhes easily beneath the whole 147 pounds
of pale and gorgeously toned skin that’s on top of him.
Stiles stops the kiss, biting tastefully on Derek’s bottom lip. “Can I?”
“Don’t ask. Just do it.” Derek orders while he brings his knees closer into his
chest, exposing his hole.
“Um..lube? I don’t have any…I mean I have lotion, but can I even use this? I
didn’t buy—“ Stiles’ tongue is suddenly tied with confusion as he tries to
figure what to do but Derek interrupts.
“Use your goddamn spit and stop wasting fucking time!” Derek shouts. “Are you
listening to me dammit? Spit into your hand, slick up, shove your cock up my
ass, and fuck me.” Derek’s eyes flash blue with greedy ferociousness.
Stiles wastes no time at the offer. He gathers spit his mouth before spitting
it into his palm and stroking it onto his dick. He spreads Derek’s cheeks, and
slides his dripping cock into the tight, hardly prepared hole.
“DAMMIT STILES!” Derek growls out and wraps his legs around Stiles’ waist with
bone crushing strength. His nails scratch down Stiles’ pale back and the teen
begins to move at a faster speed.
Stiles’ arms hold him up weakly as he pounds with increasing speeds into
Derek’s ass. His elbows buckle every time he feels his cock slide out and back
into Derek. Derek is incredibly tight. His ass squeezes around Stiles’ cock,
making the impending orgasm take a few steps closer with every thrust.
“Fuck it harder Stiles. Fuck yeah! Move more for me.” Derek yells out, digging
the heels of his sweaty feet into Stiles’ back. Derek lets out a raspy grunt
with each thrust. The hot, dull sound of Stiles’ thighs meeting with Derek’s
ass cheeks in each thrust echoes off the bedroom walls.
“I’m close. I’m close” Derek repeats in a grunted growl as he squeezes Stiles’
ass encouraging the teen to buck harder and possibly deeper. “Get me off. Make
me cum. Give it all, Stiles…thrust as hard as you fucking can!” Derek’s growls
turn into feral roars as each thrust plows into his prostate. He hasn’t
bottomed since high school, and it feels much more intense than he remembers.
Stiles delivers several powerful thrusts before Derek is dumping massive
amounts of hot, viscous cum onto his contracting abdominal muscles from orgasm.
Derek reaches back and claws into Stiles’ headboard in an attempt to mask his
growls.
Within seconds after Derek orgasming, Stiles’ thrusts shallow as his orgasm
reaches the point of no return. He pulls out of Derek and unloads onto Derek’s
spent cock, balls and thighs, making a filthy and sticky mess. He carelessly
rubs his cum into the hair of Derek’s thighs and smiles.
“You…you…Stiles, damn—“ Derek rambles trying to find the right words to explain
how amazing Stiles was.
Stiles’ laptop sounds a message alert. He jumps up from the bed to read the
screen.
[Almost there. About 5 minutes away.]
Stiles reads Danny’s message and begins putting his clothes back on. “Danny’s
about five minutes from here. Get dressed.” Stiles smiles at Derek.
“That was amazing Derek…and how does it feel to officially be STILES’ BEYOTCH?!
WOOO!” Stiles yells, throwing his arms up into the air in a triumphant cheer
for himself.
Derek sits up, still coming down from his orgasm and rolls his eyes with a
sigh.“Don’t make me regret doing this…even if—“ Derek begins but Stiles cuts
in.
“—Even if it felt fucking amazing!” Stiles shouts with a smile still plastered
across his face. He hands Derek his pants and shoes and sits next to him on the
bed taking in the smell of truly mind-blowing sex.
End Notes
     Any episodes you'd like me to "elaborate" on by writing missing
     scenes? Any things you want to happen?
Please drop_by_the_archive_and_comment to let the author know if you enjoyed
their work!
