
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/732681.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Teen_Wolf_(TV)
  Relationship:
      Derek_Hale/Stiles_Stilinski
  Additional Tags:
      Knotting, Possessive_Behavior, Sex_Toys, Femmeplay, Feminization, Pink
      Undies_Sunday, Bottom_Stiles_Stilinski, Barebacking
  Stats:
      Published: 2013-03-24 Words: 4150
****** The Sweet Brush ******
by ya3ani
Summary
     Stiles slips into lingerie. Derek approves.
     Inspired by Pink Undies Sunday.
Notes
     Often feminization kink includes humiliation. This one does not.
See the end of the work for more notes
[image]
 
Balance had never been Stiles' strong suit.
It was always the want-to-do's against the must-do's, the school against the
not-dying, the normal relationships against the primal, terrifying ones – to
say nothing of his actual balance, which was what was currently his biggest
problem.
The leather under his bare thighs squeaked whenever he dared to move, his sweat
rolling down the matte black material and finding its way into the couch. From
his perch on its arm he looked out at the empty house, eyes open yet unseeing.
A shiver of pleasure rolled through him from the tips of his toes to the ends
of his fingers when he had to shift forward, and he groaned in frustration. All
day he'd been waiting for this moment, eager to show Derek what he'd been
preparing, and now he had to wait more. Somehow the ten minutes that Derek was
taking to go to the pharmacy eclipsed the eight hours that Stiles had been
looking forward to this moment.
He wasn't supposed to touch himself, but he was pretty sure a few more rocks on
the edge of the couch and he'd come all over. It'd earn him a spanking, Derek's
harsh palm on his blood-pinked cheeks, and usually he'd be all for that...but
for once Stiles wanted to be good. It was a novel feeling.
Looking down at the pink satin outlining his hard, wanting cock, Stiles sighed
and mentally promised it all the tender loving it could get if it would just
stop torturing him for a few minutes.
It didn't work.
A key slotted into the apartment door and Stiles almost slipped off, his head-
first dive into the coffee table only stopped by a black blur: Derek.
Lips against Stiles' ear. “I told you not to move.”
“I didn't move; gravity moved me. Very different things.”
“You're getting the underwear you bought dirty.” Derek palmed Stiles' thighs
and rubbed at the dusting of hairs there, his hands dry compared to the sweat-
wet slick of Stiles' shaking legs.
Stiles swallowed, wanting those hands on his body in a cruder way. “The sexy
ones are called 'panties', you heathen.”
“Hmm.” Derek's shadowed gaze tracked Stiles up and down, a warmth that rushed
through Stiles like an August breeze. It still surprised him when Derek showed
any appreciation, any sense of how special what they had truly was. “Whatever
they're called, I can take a hint. You bought panties. You want to be a girl.
My girl.”
“I'm a boy,” Stiles said, his voice quieting as Derek's words hit him like a
wave.
“For tonight,” amended Derek. “My girl for tonight." Sweat smeared on Derek's
skin from Stiles' answering nod, the syrupy feeling of that word becoming a
haze over every action. Derek's girl. “Tell me. Why these ones.”
A few blinks later, Stiles realized Derek was talking to him – of course he
was, but that was hard to remember with Derek kneading his body and slipping
clever fingers right along the line of pink satin.
“You always tear off my boxers. I wanted something you could untie, even if it
makes us more deviant.”
Derek settled a hand around Stiles' neck and one placed over the front of the
panties, the first touch he'd deigned to give Stiles' poor cock. “There's
nothing deviant about you being beautiful.”
“Whatever, dude.” Stiles ducked his head into Derek's shoulder, hiding his
heightened flush.
“My beautiful girl.” A tug on Stiles' hips had him picked up then tossed
backwards onto the couch to lay out with his feet up on the arm, Derek's hands
around his spread ankles. Long moments passed as Derek stared down with greedy
eyes, his gaze traveling over Stiles' body like permission to look and touch
was a granted. In the cold air Stiles' nipples started to peak, and Stiles
resigned himself to the fact that Derek was probably going to kill him without
even touching him. “Did you go to school wearing these today?”
Stiles swallowed. Fuck. The blush felt like a burn on Stiles' face, but he kept
Derek's gaze. “Yeah.”
Derek's grip on Stiles' ankles tightened and he cleared his throat. “What were
they covering up? An asshole and a cock? Or a pussy and clit?”
“A pussy,” Stiles made himself answer, trying not to stumble over the word.
Derek raised an eyebrow and put a finger right at the head of Stiles' cock,
where a dark spot was growing on the satin of his new panties. “And a – clit.”
“Whose pussy and clit?” asked Derek, somewhat hoarsely.
A deep swallow. Stiles knew what Derek wanted him to say. “Yours.”
“My...?”
“Your pussy,” Stiles said, his voice thick. “Your clit.”
Derek made a harsh noise in his throat and bent over the arm of the couch,
biting suddenly at the pale skin of Stiles' inner thigh like he couldn't stand
to have his lips away from Stiles for another moment. The teeth shocked a yelp
from Stiles that turned to a moan when Derek slid upwards, tonguing the line of
Stiles' muscles and stopping right at the edge of the panties. Derek laved and
licked at the crease of Stiles' thigh.
“What did you do about gym class?” Derek pulled back to ask, eyes shadowed.
“I changed in the bathroom.”
“Did anyone see you?” Derek's voice was starting to sound strained. "Did anyone
see my girl?"
“No,” promised Stiles quickly. “No one. I – couldn't have played anyway.”
“Didn't want to get your panties messed up?” Derek asked, leaning back into the
cradle of Stiles' hips. Stiles nodded half-heartedly, though that hadn't been
the only reason. Derek would see exactly why Stiles couldn't have moved that
much in just a few minutes.
“Please,” Stiles said, staring at the hard curve of Derek's jaw. Stiles wanted
– Derek's hands and his tongue, his cock deep inside. Everything.
“Anything you want,” Derek replied, gritty and true. “Whatever my good girl
wants.” Stiles sighed in restrained happiness. The number of times Derek had
called him a variation of 'bad' had to be astronomical by this point, but
'good' – Stiles was almost never good.
“Lick my c – clit,” he begged, watching Derek's heated gaze flick to the
panties in front of his face. Eyes locked with Stiles' the whole time, Derek
leaned down and dragged his tongue up the long line of Stiles' cock like he was
eating out a woman. The satin clung to his tongue, the pink fabric darkening
further with the spit, and Stiles let out a coughed sob at the pull of it on
his cock.
Derek hushed him then went back for more licks; on anyone else it would have
perhaps looked kittenish, but predatory instincts ran too deeply in Derek and
he looked like nothing less than a leopard – dark and dangerous.
“Come around,” Stiles said, trying to move so he was sitting on the couch
normally. Derek helped, going to his knees before Stiles as soon as they were
situated. They kissed, Derek leaning up into Stiles' space and claiming his
lips, pillowing kisses onto him before biting at his mouth softly. Like always
Stiles couldn't help moaning – he loved kissing more than he'd ever thought he
would. Loved kissing Derek, specifically: how he could read Derek's feelings
without either of them having to use words, how he could communicate back, and
how Derek would try to understand with a patience he never possessed during
conversations.
Right now Derek was – happy. Reverent. He wasn't smiling, but he was kissing
like Stiles was something special, like he didn't know how long he'd have this
chance. Stiles put teeth into the kiss. He wasn't going anywhere.
“Lick my clit,” Stiles said again more forcefully after Derek and he parted,
breath hot between them. Stiles grabbed Derek's hand and placed it on his
front, right at his belly button where it slid down to the upper half of the
panties, Stiles' cock poking at the mesh.
Derek did as he was told, bending forward and coming up Stiles' cock in smooth
arcs, and okay – yeah, wow. There was fabric between Derek's tongue and Stiles'
cock and Derek wasn't even licking the head, but god that felt good.
“So pretty for me,” Derek took a breath to say. “Wrapping yourself up like a
present.” He went back to licking and grabbed the bows on either side of
Stiles' hips, twisting his fingers in them. It was rougher than he'd been all
night with Stiles, a return to something like normalcy. Stiles' hand spasmed
helplessly on the leather of the couch.
“Derek,” said Stiles quietly, before he could stop himself.
“Do you want me to eat your pussy?” Derek asked, his hands tugging at the
straps that held the panties onto Stiles.
“I – “ Stiles swallowed, imagining Derek licking at his hole and giving him
small slaps on the ass to bring the blood up to the top of his skin. “It's
just...“
Gaze hooded and mouth hungry, Derek kissed at the head of Stiles' cock through
the pink fabric. He moved on to a different question. “Can I unwrap you?”
Jerkily Stiles nodded, his muscles only half under his control. He watched as
Derek pulled the long, tapered end of one of the satin ties loose, kissing
there when it was done, then pulling at the other one. Sat as he was gravity
kept the panties on Stiles' body, so Derek had to pull the top down. He did so
with eyes riveted on Stiles' cock, his breaths coming quickly and his eyes
hotly eager.
A moment later Derek was dragging Stiles forward a few inches on the couch,
hands under Stiles' knees to push him up and expose his hole –
Stiles felt more than heard the moment Derek saw it. Like a tiny current had
gone through his body, Derek froze completely, mouth open and fangs half-
dropped.
“My slit's been wet all day,” Stiles said, his mouth dry with the heavy, aching
words. “In school, too.”
“You – “ Derek's head dropped down, his finger prodding at the tight muscle
there, tapping the smooth black toy that Stiles knew was buried inside him.
“How long?”
“Since 9am. I went to the bathroom and slipped it in after first hour.” It was
a small thing compared to Derek but it was enough to be a constant presence in
Stiles' hole, never letting Stiles forget exactly what he was doing. The flared
end had tapped on every single seat Stiles had the misfortune of occupying, a
torturous experience made worthwhile by thoughts of this: Derek reduced to soft
words and shock, his eyes wide as if he couldn't believe he'd be worthy of
anything like what Stiles had done.
“That's why the lube was gone,” Derek put together, sounding dazed. Stiles
nodded, biting at his lip. He'd forgotten it in the bathroom after he'd put the
toy in himself; some unlucky teacher or student had probably already found it.
It was why Derek had left Stiles all alone and in his new panties for those
awful ten minutes.
“I thought about you inside me all day.” Stiles lifted a hand to Derek's cheek
and rubbed his thumb over it. “I was dripping – I wore black jeans because I
was afraid everyone might see.”
“No one else gets to see you like this, Stiles,” Derek said fervently with
narrowed eyes.
“Duh,” Stiles said, affectionate.
“I want to fuck your pussy,” Derek confessed, hands going harsh on Stiles'
hips.
“What happened to giving your good girl 'anything'?”
“You don't want my cock?” Derek straightened between Stiles' legs, tipping him
further back into the couch and exposing Stiles' ass and the toy even more.
“Because it looks like you're ready for me.” As if his words needed any
emphasis whatsoever, Derek found the end of the toy and slowly pulled it half-
way out. It had been in so long that Stiles had gotten used to it, and the
ridges and dips of the toy sparked along his hole – his pussy – and made him
cry out.
“Okay, yes, please – Derek,” Stiles panted, shivering and sweating. “Please
fuck me, please – ”
Quick as only the supernatural could be, Derek grabbed the plastic bag from
behind him and shucked his pants off, rough and uncaring of his movements. He
was – hard. Which sounded weird, maybe, but usually Derek didn't get fully hard
until he'd been touched or teased, yet this time all Stiles had done was splay
out on the couch in pink satin panties. It was as good an acknowledgement for
Stiles' gift as he was likely to get.
Perfunctorily Derek slicked his cock up and joined Stiles on the couch, moving
him so they were spread out on the couch together.
“Lady's choice,” Derek mumbled, hand on the toy inside Stiles, twisting it and
rubbing at the cleft of Stiles' ass. “Which way do you want me to take you?”
It only took a second for Stiles to decide. They always liked to fuck fast, so
hands-and-knees was an old stand-by. Cowboy came in second, as Derek loved
watching Stiles' face as he rode, loved sticking his fingers in Stiles' mouth
to fill him up on both ends. Today, though, Stiles could tell Derek was feeling
different – giving, if the word could be applied to him. Stiles wanted to see
his face when he came, wanted to be able to kiss him.
“Like this,” Stiles suggested, putting his hands behind his own knees and
pulling his legs back. “Fuck me like this.”
Derek's adams apple visibly moved when he swallowed hard and stared. Stiles had
made the right choice. With a huff Derek slid up Stiles' body, pulling at the
toy until only the end was inside Stiles. “Fingers?”
“Ah,” Stiles moaned, “I'm wet, I'm ready – you don't have to, I'm already –“
With a last gentle pull the toy was out and dropped to the floor, leaving
Stiles asshole gripping air before tightening right back up. Stiles keened once
and threw his head back. “Derek, now.”
The lube made a smacking sound when Derek let his cock fall straight onto
Stiles' hole, a reverberation that reminded Stiles of all the times they'd done
this before. Before he penetrated, Derek reached under Stiles and grabbed at
the forgotten panties, wresting them from between the couch and Stiles' skin.
He slipped them up, watching to see if Stiles had any complaints, then looped
one of the long ties around Stiles' dick.
“Fuck,” Stiles moaned. Derek tied it quickly, the pressure increasing the
tiniest bit. It wouldn't make it impossible to come, or even painful – just
slightly more difficult.
“I want to feel your pussy get tight around me when you come on my cock. But
not yet.” With those words Derek leaned down and kissed Stiles, threading the
fingers of his left hand with Stiles' right and lining himself up with the
other.
The head of his cock popped into Stiles with a rush of stretchy-pain, and Derek
peppered Stiles' face with kisses as he grimaced. The toy had been small. Derek
was...not. “So good for me,” Derek muttered, fucking in with a slower snap of
his hips than normal. “Such a good girl.”
Through his haze of pure lust Stiles heard pitiful moans, a constant refrain of
them filling the air. Derek was busy staring down at Stiles, mouth a grim line
and eyes afire, so it wasn't him. The next few Stiles tried to swallow back
down, almost biting his tongue as he fought the pleasure.
“Let me hear you,” demanded Derek in a rough voice. “I want to know – you.
You.”
That was all Stiles needed to let go. He let his body make whatever noises it
wanted, from the strange hiccups when Derek fucked him in a staccato beat to
the low keen when Derek pulled out so slowly that Stiles swore he was dying.
It was one of those latter strokes, both of them covered with sweat and the
couch all but ruined by it, that Derek started to torture Stiles. Never before
had Stiles fully appreciated being taken like a trophy as Derek so often did,
but the new deliberate pace Derek set was maddening. What made it worse were
the words – Derek spoke the whole time, telling Stiles how beautiful he was,
what a good girl he was taking Derek's cock, even asking if it was a safe week,
saying that he hoped it was because he was going to come deep inside Stiles'
pussy with no condom between them.
“Harder,” begged Stiles when he felt he could speak. Inside of him Derek's cock
was huge as ever and rearranging Stiles' body to fit it perfectly, deep like
Stiles' fingers could never get. To help convince Derek to give in, Stiles
bared his neck, arching his back and letting his mouth drop open in an inviting
way that he knew drove Derek's dual nature to a fury.
One anguished noise later and Derek was rutting into Stiles, bending him
completely in half and feeding Stiles his cock to the hilt every time with no
pause for breath or for thought. With the air driven out of his lungs Stiles
was reduced to pleased wheezes and quiet gasps, his hands gripping Derek's taut
shoulders as Derek fucked down into him with all the power and control that a
werewolf could summon.
“Going to come,” Derek gritted out, his eyes flicking down to Stiles' stomach.
“Want me to rub your clit?” Stiles nodded frantically, his aborted humps up
against Derek useless in the face of all of Derek's unfair strength.
“Derek,” Stiles cried out when a hand finally landed on his clit, rubbing it up
and down, circling the head. With only one hand to hold himself up, Derek
couldn't stay balanced and still fuck as hard as he had been, but the snaps of
his hips were perfect anyway, the dirty sound of lube loud in the room.
“I'm going to make you come,” Derek promised, voice animalistic and possessive,
his cock pulsing inside Stiles on each thrust. He took a moment to pull at the
tie of the panties around Stiles' cock, the satin easily slipping away and up
to lay on Stiles' stomach. “Be a good girl and come on my dick, Stiles.”
That was it. With a hoarse shout Stiles came everywhere, still impaled on the
thickest part of Derek's cock and almost crying with the relief of finally
being able to let go and give completely into the pleasure. His come shot up
onto Derek's hard stomach and chest, coated the front of the satin panties that
were draped over Stiles' front.
“Beautiful,” Derek muttered, and pinned Stiles' legs all the way to the couch,
Stiles' knees next to his ears. Staring into Derek's eyes, Stiles watched as he
came next, Derek's eyelashes fluttering and his whole body stretched tight with
tension and slicked with sweat.
For a long moment Derek stayed deep inside, seemingly heedless of the fact that
Stiles was basically crumpled in to the couch. When he levered up his face
still looked wracked with pleasure, even though orgasm had to be over by now.
That's when Stiles felt it.
“I – dude?” he asked, shifting uncomfortably. “There's something...”
Belatedly Derek looked down Stiles' body like he'd be able to see his own dick
if he tried hard enough. He dropped his head to Stiles' shoulder. “Fuck,” he
said succinctly, sounded more winded than Stiles had ever heard. “I'm – we're.”
“Your dick is moving inside of me,” Stiles said, an edge of incredulous panic
in his tone.
“Knotting,” explained Derek, a thread of something tired entering his voice.
“It's starting. We – have a minute or two before I can't pull out anymore.”
That said he started to ease out of Stiles, his hand going down to where they
were joined to gently take care of Stiles' stretched skin as he did so.
“Wait wait wait,” Stiles was saying before he could think twice, wanting to
take away whatever he'd just heard in Derek's voice. In theory he knew what
knotting was; with his endorphins high, it didn't sound so scary. “Will it hurt
me?”
Halfway out of Stiles' body, Derek paused. “Yes,” he admitted. “Or. Maybe.”
“Will it feel good for you?” Stiles ran a palm over Derek's face, the scruff
from where he hadn't shaved in the morning. Derek's eyes darkened and he nodded
tightly. “Then I want it. Get back inside me.”
“Are you – “
“I'm sure,” Stiles cut off Derek. “I'm wetter than I've ever been. My ass can
take it.” Stiles saw the moment Derek gave in and slid back home, his face
turning into something soft and vulnerable right before Stiles' eyes.
“You mean,” Derek corrected, face blissed-out, “that your pussy can take it.”
“Oh, fuck you. You do not get to make me come again. I am all fucked-out.
Congratulations.”
Derek stared down viciously and worked his hips, his half-grown knot splitting
Stiles even wider with the circular movements. He put a hand over Stiles' soft,
come-smudged cock, cupping it tenderly. “You can come again.”
Stiles spit a few choice words up at Derek, but for once Derek didn't seem to
care. His face was so easy to read that it was almost painful for Stiles to
look at. By no means was their relationship all about sex, but they didn't
exchange sweet nothings or whisper to each other in the dark, either. The way
Derek was staring down at him as they cuddled together on the couch, tied in
the most intimate way...it scared Stiles.
“You're quiet,” Derek noted, tucking a strand of Stiles' hair back.
“Aren't you happy?” Stiles half-asked half-joked.
Derek frowned. “Am I hurting you?”
“No!” Stiles rushed to get out. “No, you're not. I feel full, and you're
fucking ridiculously hung right now, but no. I'm fine.”
Derek leaned in for a kiss, crushing the wet satin panties between their
chests. “Okay,” he said simply.
Eager to ignore the dual feelings of warmth and fear of said warmth in his
chest, Stiles flailed for a distraction. “Why now?” he eventually asked,
flicking his eyes down. “We've had sex before. Lots of sex....Lots.”
Derek answered with a furrowed brow. “We knot when our partners are most
fertile. We were talking about your pussy and I was thinking about how I'd get
to fill you up, imagining how your body might change if...if I bred you.”
Stiles felt his cock twitch. He gulped and stared up at Derek. His legs were
still pushed back and he was completely at Derek's mercy, a position he often
was in physically but rarely emotionally. Today he felt both, and it
overwhelmed him.
“Oh,” Stiles replied faintly.
Derek looked like he had something else to say, but instead of sharing he
burrowed into Stiles' neck, hiding his face. Another few minutes and Stiles
would start to ache from the muscle burn of his position but for now he let
Derek get as close as he could. They were joined too tightly for thrusting to
be pleasurable but that didn't stop Derek from driving Stiles crazy. He rubbed
lightly at Stiles' body, up and down his arms and hands, licking at Stiles'
nipples and rubbing up against his clit, never letting Stiles relax. Soon
Stiles was ready to come again, moans caught in his throat as he stared up at
Derek and let his body be worked over in whatever way Derek chose. His second
orgasm came slowly, like seeing the sun after a long climb up a mountain.
The pain when Derek pulled out was a hazy, pleasure-tinged thing that floated
around Stiles' head, sending sparks up his spine. Needy and wanting, his pussy
spasmed on the sudden nothingness it was left with, Derek's cock finally gone
soft and still on his thigh.
“Look at you,” Derek said roughly, hands spreading Stiles' cheeks. “Are you – “
“I'm fine,” Stiles said. It hurt, but in the best way.
Derek met Stiles' eyes, gaze a little shifty – not with mischievous plans or
disparaging thoughts but with some sort of emotion he wanted to hide. Stiles
licked his lips and reached up, thinking about tugging Derek down for a kiss,
the one way he knew they could understand each other. At the last moment he
stopped, scared of what he would find out if they kissed just then.
“Let's put your panties back on,” Derek said, dragging the crumpled satin off
of Stiles' chest and slipping them under Stiles' hips. “They'll keep me inside
you longer.”
Stiles nodded, breathless, and let Derek maneuver him perfectly. The panties
went on easily and Derek tied them tightly, double knotted at each side. He
leaned down and kissed Stiles' clit through them, ignoring the dried come
splattered over the fabric.
“Good girl,” he said, voice unreadable. “My good girl.”
End Notes
     prompt & follow at ya3ani.
Please drop_by_the_archive_and_comment to let the author know if you enjoyed
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