
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/1008512.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Teen_Wolf_(TV)
  Relationship:
      Derek_Hale/Stiles_Stilinski, Minor_or_Background_Relationship(s)
  Character:
      Derek_Hale, Stiles_Stilinski
  Additional Tags:
      Alternate_Universe_-_Canon_Divergence, Established_Relationship, Dildos,
      Hand_Jobs, Blow_Jobs, Ice_Play, Body_Worship, Stiles_Takes_Care_Of_Derek
  Stats:
      Published: 2013-10-18 Words: 5685
****** you make me feel good ******
by PrincezzShell101
Summary
     Sometimes Stiles likes to make Derek feel good, just because he can.
     This is one of those times.
     Or: Where ice cubes are used for pleasure, Little Red makes a second
     appearance, and Stiles gives Derek's body the worship of its life.
     Sequel to a very hands-on situation
Notes
     FINALLY I FINISHED IT!
     Here you go guys :)
     (Title taken from You Make Me Feel by Cobra Starship)
See the end of the work for more notes
The dildo incident happens to change two things between Stiles and Derek.
For one, they both know what one another sounds like during orgasm. As for the
second thing, well, that thing speaks all for itself.
The pack has, by now, finally managed to admit to themselves the fact that
Derek and Stiles are an item, a 'thing'. It is quite funny, actually, because a
mystery incident, further known to the pack as The Thing and that and
nothing but that, which was appropriately named by the two freshly discovered
lovers, was heard to have awakened the primal need for Stiles and Derek to
become a 'thing'. Yes, the sentence holds quite a few 'things', but really, The
Thing is all that the pack can seem to think about, talk about quietly in
secret, and the one thing that is never failed to be missed in mentioning at
pack night.
It's understandable, though.
Derek and Stiles had gone from absolutely loathing each other with a burning
passion of hatred, wanting to rip the other's throat out (Derek) and
threatening to poison the other with wolfsbane in their soda at the next pack
night (Stiles) to sharing short, chaste—sometimes long, wet and sloppy—kisses
during a movie and cuddling up on the four-person couch, taking up nearly two
whole seating spaces.
It is sickly sweet, and most of the time when a kiss will look like it's about
to turn into a full-blown make out session with hands groping and hips
grinding, Scott will subtlety cough into his hand, breaking the two up from
their intense moment.
Stiles will always chuckle an awkward sorry bro with a blush flushing over his
cheeks, but Derek will just flip him off and pull the teen into another tongue-
sucking kiss, deliberately ignoring Scott's groan and loud footsteps retreating
to the kitchen (where the rest of the pack would be, no doubt, since they'd
already decided earlier that they would rather drink their sodas and eat their
pizza standing up in the kitchen instead of sitting in the living room and
having to put up with Derek and Stiles kissing right in front of them).
"I'd rather drink my soda and eat my pizza here than have to watch my brother
and Stiles suck each other's faces off through their mouths," Cora says one
night, completely turned off by Derek and Stiles exchanging saliva rather
messily across from her, before walking to the kitchen and taking her piece of
pizza and soda can with her. That must have been what everyone else had been
waiting for because in the next 20 seconds they all follow her out, leaving
Derek and Stiles alone on the couch by themselves with The Avengers movie still
playing on the loft's flat screen TV.
Derek and Stiles know that the pack accepts them being together, but they also
know of the pack's clear annoyance of having to sit through a movie while they
can't keep their hands and mouths to themselves.
But yeah, they don't really care.
The fact that the pack does not like the alpha and human showing their
affection around them means that if he and Stiles can make out long enough and
sloppily enough, vocalising their enthusiasm loud and un-bashfully, the pack
will eventually get fed up and leave the room. It's a great tactic and they use
it nearly every time.
Amongst all of the small things like kissing and cuddling there is, of course,
a much more sexual side to their relationship.
When Derek's loft isn't being occupied by any members of the pack—which is not
that often but happens occasionally—he'll call Stiles up and ask if he wants to
come over. Stiles will always agree, knowing what it means for Derek to be
asking him that, and Derek will end up fucking him in whichever spot of the
loft he feels needs a new spicy aromatic dose of their combined scents. The
pack will come back later that day to find them both sprawled out on the floor
of whatever room they've done it in, sniff once, noses wrinkling and faces
scrunching up in disgust, before making themselves as scarce as possible.
(Stiles will always give Derek a high-five and chirp nailed it with a smug grin
on his face. Derek's body will always tremble with laughter for a good few
minutes afterward. Sometimes, Derek will say something like good riddance or
thank God or thought they'd never leave. Most times he'll let Stiles do his
famous 'nailed it' shtick and bask in the glow of amusement that is their
life.)
One of these sexual occasions so happens to be today, since it is a late Friday
afternoon and Friday is usually when the pack all goes out, leaving Derek alone
in the loft.
When the last of the pack walks out of the door, Derek takes out his phone and
calls up Stiles. Like usual, Stiles answers on the first ring (was probably
even waiting for the call) and says he'll be there in the next 10 minutes.
While waiting for his boyfriend to arrive (because: "Derek, we're boyfriends.
Get over it"), Derek occupies himself with sitting on the couch, trying to
select which part in the loft needs to be 'attended to' this time, but
eventually decides to just let Stiles choose once he gets there.
It is another 5 minutes later when Derek hears the familiar sputter and growl
of the Jeep's engine being cut, then a slamming of a car door, followed by the
sound of pounding feet running up the stairs of the loft. His lips curl up at
the corners in a small smile as he takes a long, deep inhale through his nose,
scent of Stiles wafting through the air and signalling that he is close by.
(Stiles's scent has always been a combination of cinnamon and lemon. Derek had
never thought much of it back when he'd whiffed at it the first time he'd met
Stiles in the woods, but now all he wants to do is inhale and breathe it in
whenever the boy is around.)
"Knock, knock, sourwolf!" Stiles's voice cheerfully rings out from the other
side of the loft door.
Derek doesn't even bother to hold back his massive grin as he walks over to the
door, pulls it open to reveal Stiles's sunshine-bright smile displayed just as
strongly as his own right back at him.
"Hey," Stiles says, stepping through the door and wrapping his arms loosely
around Derek's waist.
"Hey, yourself," Derek retorts, burrowing his nose into the crook of Stiles's
neck, rumbling a contented growl as he scent marks what's his.
Stiles chortles softly, tilting his head to the side to allow the stubble on
Derek's face to brush abrasively against the nape of his neck, a little bit
prickly but a pleasant burn that has his cock giving an interested twitch.
Derek just chuffs happily, tracing his nose along Stiles's ear, taking the lobe
in his mouth and lightly nipping at it. "Missed you," he murmurs.
"Missed you too," Stiles says bemusedly, barely containing a full-body shiver
as Derek continues nibbling on his earlobe, arms enclosing more firmly around
Derek's waist as the alpha tugs him closer. "So, I was thinkin'. We should
start marking this place as ours." His voice carries out in a casual, cheeky
whisper.
Derek purrs in agreement, trailing his nose across Stiles's collarbone and
licking a wet stripe over the skin under his jawline. "Mmhmm," he hums, sucking
gently over the pulse that is fluttering beneath the skin. "We better."
Stiles moans softly, his face lighting up, whiskey brown eyes sparkling in
mischief. "All right. But, there's something I want to show you first." He
moves away from Derek, Derek frowning and trying to get close to him again.
"Nah-uh. Derek, stay." Stiles puts his hand up, stopping Derek where he is
standing. Derek whines and he laughs. "Derek, c'mon. Stop being a sourwolf."
"I'm not," Derek grumbles. "Just wanna hold you." His eyes drift down to the
floor, shoulders tensed up as he glares at his bare feet sulkily.
Stiles possibly melts. Derek can really be adorable sometimes. "Derek, you can
hold me later," he promises.
"Want to hold you now." Derek looks up and pouts, right knee bouncing up and
down in agitation. It reminds Stiles of a restless puppy.
"You will, just in a minute," Stiles says, hand slipping into his back pants
pocket and taking something out, holding it behind him so Derek can't see it.
"But first, I have something for you."
"What?" Derek's eyebrows scrunch up in confusion, and that along with the pout
almost makes Stiles want to coo at him because of how cute it is.
"It's Little Red." He grins, revealing the dildo he's been hiding behind him.
"I brought it over with me 'cause I thought that, uh, maybe we could use it.
Mix things up a little, y'know?" He shuffles his feet, blushing. "Plus, ever
since that night when you fucked me with it I—I've been wanting to try it out
on you."
Derek's mouth goes completely dry. He gulps, not at all surprised when it feels
like trying to swallow sand. Stiles's statement has literally drained all the
liquid out of his system (which is funny, because he has drank at least six
glasses of water today).
Stiles watches Derek's face go from pouting confusedly to gaping in shocked
silence. It would be comical if this wasn't their 'Let's Fuck Friday'. "So,
judging by your face I feel like that's a no-go," he sighs, turning away.
"Okay, well, I'll put this thing on the table and we can just go up to your
bedroom and do something else. It's no biggie."
Just as he is about to do that, Derek's hand shoot out and grabs his arm,
pulling him back.
"No," Derek croaks, wincing at the way he sounds. It's like they've
already had sex and he's talking through the tight, breathless cords in his
windpipe. "I—no. I want to. I really want to. You just shocked me, is all."
Stiles spins back around on his heels, grin eating away at his face. "So
you are—really?" Derek nods. "Really, really?" Derek nods again, smirking.
Stiles whoops. "Okay, okay, this is—this is awesome." He tries to rinse the
grin off his face but it doesn't work, so he just rolls, claps his hands
together. "All right. Okay. Let's do this. Lead the way to the bedroom, I'll
follow in a sec."
Derek pouts. "You're not coming in with me?" he whines.
Stiles laughs, shaking his head. He passes the dildo to Derek who, with a
disarrayed look in his eyes, takes it. "I am, just gonna go get a—thing. You
go, I'll meet you there in a sec." He tries to push the werewolf toward said
destination but Derek's feet are like, super glued to the floor or something,
not even sliding a fraction on the wooden floorboards. "Oh my God. Derek,
seriously, I won't even take a minute. I'll be in there, licking you up and
down from head to toe, in really no time at all, buddy. Trust me."
Derek sighs like he is being subjected to the hardest task in the world.
"Fine," he bites out eventually. "But, that means I get to suck you off later.
After you finish getting me off."
Stiles's grin surpasses that of a crazy serial killer, eyes glinting.
"Like I'd ever turn down your mouth on my cock," he snickers, hands pressing
into Derek's spine and pushing gently. "Now go on. Mush. Off to bed with you.
And clothes off. Fully naked appearance required."
If Stiles's grin is scary, Derek's is even worse. Completely animalistic.
"Got it. Just, don't take too long. Might have to start without you," he purrs,
leaning in close and huffing a ghost of breath across Stiles's cheek, before
sauntering off down the hall and leaving Stiles standing there, grin slipping
to a faltered smile as his knees go weak underneath him.
"Freakin' tease," he mutters, his feet a stumbling mess as he walks over to the
fridge and pulls back the door to the freezer. His eyes light up when he
catches the sight of the ice cubes further at the back, pulling out some from
the large bag.
(Derek keeps them for pack nights because sometimes the pack likes to fill up
the bathtub with ice cubes to keep all the soda cans cold. It was Isaac's idea
one night and everyone had agreed but Derek. Well, that was until the beta had
pulled the 'kicked puppy' look and Derek had begrudgingly given in.)
Now, Stiles is going to use them for something completely different.
Stiles closes the freezer, popping an ice cube into his mouth and sucking on it
while putting the other one in his jean pocket. It will take a bit of time to
melt and he wants to surprise Derek with this, so the pocket it is. He makes
his way down the hall, stopping at the last door on the left. Derek's bedroom.
Slowly, he pushes open the door and walks in.
What meets his sight both makes him drool, and curse.
"Fucking he—Derek, I wasn't gone that long! Why couldn't you wait for me?"
Derek is stretched out on the bed, sculptured naked body totally fuck-able with
those toned muscles and tan skin. The big no-no, though, is the hand wrapped
around that perfectly shaped cock, and when his eyes catch sight of the other
hand, fingers trailing a pathway down bunched-up, tight abs—
No. Fuck that shit.
"Okay, this is not happening. You got that Derek? Not.Happening." He storms up
to the bed, shucking off his shirt and throwing it behind him, before crawling
up the bed. His hand grabs Derek's hand that is on his dick and removes it
firmly, holding it above his head, letting his own hand wrap around Derek's
cock instead, sliding down the shaft and squeezing tight. "This is what's
happening."
Derek's gasp only manages to oust in a small huff of breath before Stiles is
pressing his lips to Derek's, impact causing their teeth to bump together,
enough that Stiles has to pull back and hiss, licking his gums.
"Okay, that was not meant to be how this is happening," he laughs, leaning down
and connecting their lips together more gently.
This time it isn't him to pull back, but Derek.
"Stiles, why is your mouth wet?"
Stiles raises an eyebrow. "Um. Dude. Mouths are meant to be wet. Saliva?
Hello, duh," he teases, brushing his nose along the expanse of Derek's neck.
Derek huffs, pulling Stiles up from sucking a beginning of a hickey on the
column of his throat. "Okay, then why is it cold?"
Stiles pretends to have no idea what Derek is talking about, frowning in
confusion. "Huh? Cold? Wow, Derek, are you dissing my kissing skills?"
Playing the blame card would be a pretty normal Stiles thing to do, so it
should have drawn Derek's attention away from the melted ice cube in his mouth.
Should have.
"Stiles, I know you. We've been dating for five months now. I can tell when
you're hiding something."
"No, you don't. What—what are you talking about? Me? Hiding something?" He
laughs, not at all surprised that it has a nervous tick in it. He sucks at
pretending like he isn't hiding something. This has been bound to fail from the
start.
So, he decides to try and up his chances of getting Derek distracted.
The hand that is wrapped around the shaft of Derek's dick skims up in a swift
movement, fingertips brushing over the head.
"Fuck, Stiles, don't think that touching my dick is going to distract me,"
Derek growls, but really, that just leads Stiles into proving that oh
yes it can.
"Watch me." Stiles smirks as he begins circling his thumb just under the layer
of foreskin, drawing out a full body shudder from the man underneath him. "You
okay there, Derek? I'm not, like, distracting you or anything, am I?" he
teases.
"No."
Stiles might not be a werewolf, but he doesn't need to be to know that Derek's
lying.
To prove his point, he gently brushes the pad of his thumb over the slit of
Derek's cock, smirking when Derek curses, wet and sticky pre-come seeping out
slickly around his thumb.
"Don't lie to me, Der. We've been dating for five months. I know when you're
lying," he accuses, using the same tone Derek had.
"I'm not," Derek huffs, trying to ignore Stiles's hand on his dick. Yeah.
Like that isn't hard as hell (pun intended).
"But you are," Stiles sing-songs, nipping at Derek's chin. "The big bad wolf is
lying and I know it," he giggles.
Derek gives him one of his very famous scrutinised eyebrow looks, but to Stiles
it still doesn't erase the fact that his distraction technique is working and
Derek is lying (failing at it, at that) to have Stiles think different.
"So give it up, Derek. Enjoy the moment. Let me make you feel good."
And Stiles doesn't give Derek time to speak before his other hand—the one that
isn't holding Derek's dick—goes to his jean pocket, where he takes out another
ice cube and puts it into his mouth.
"That's what was making your mouth cold? Ice cubes?" Derek groans.
Stiles just smirks, before very swiftly taking one of the werewolf's nipples
into his mouth, lathering his tongue over the ice cube so it presses down
against the flesh of Derek's nipple. The icy coolness of the ice cube makes
Derek gasp out, cock in Stiles's hand giving a valiant twitch. Stiles circles
his thumb around the head before curling his other four fingers around the
shaft, twisting his wrist in a smooth, lazy stroke.
This gets him a low moan, a small jet of come spitting out of the slit to paint
a white stripe up his forearm, sticking to the dark hairs.
"God, you have no idea how hot that was, Derek," he says, removing his mouth
from Derek's nipple, leaving the flesh of it hard, peaked and glistening with
saliva.
He can feel his own cock stirring awake and more anxious inside his jeans,
aching to be freed. It had been painful enough to watch Derek jerking himself
off earlier, but this is even worse. He's needed these jeans off ages ago.
"Take them off." Derek's voice is just a hint to the side of wrecked, jaded
eyes dark with want, pupils dilated.
Stiles involuntarily swallows, coughing when the ice cube goes down too fast
and creates a freezing sting to the inside muscles of his throat. He wriggles
back a bit on the bed, enough so he has the space to remove his jeans and
boxers. When they are both off, he tosses them away, moving back up the bed so
he can straddle Derek's hips.
"Ohhh, yeah, never gets old," he breathes, rolling his hips forward so their
cocks slide against each other. He leans down and captures Derek's lips,
sucking on his bottom lip before letting his teeth catch on the upper lip,
tugging.
Derek's hips jerk violently, and Stiles hisses at the sudden movement, has to
brace his hands on the mattress beside Derek's head to stop himself from being
bucked off.
"Whoa. Let's not get too rowdy there, Der. This ain't no rodeo," he chuckles.
"It will be if you don't hurry the fuck up," Derek snaps impatiently.
"What?" he says, fake disbelief evident. "Derek, are you going to ride
me. Because I thought we'd decided that I was going to be the one doing the
riding today." He smirks.
Derek's seems to shiver at that and uh-huh, Stiles knows that he has Derek
wrapped around his little finger.
"Yeah. That's right. Stiles is on top, baby," he whoops.
"He won't be for much longer if he doesn't do something," Derek says flatly,
serious enough that Stiles takes a hint and ducks his head down to start
sucking along the ridge of Derek's collarbone.
The reaction to Stiles's mouth is instant.
Derek's stern and serious demeanour changes—short, ragged breaths betraying
him. Stiles nibbles lightly across Derek's pectorals, making sure to lick a
stripe over both nipples in earnest, feeling the peak of each on the tip of his
tongue, hearing Derek shudder a groan. He smirks, lips pressing a hot trail
down Derek's torso as he kisses each abdominal muscle separately, before
darting his tongue through the dark, wiry hairs that are nestled between two
very defined V-shaped hip bones. And those, those can't be left untouched
either. He nips at the dip of one, the strong plate of bone tough beneath the
skin, then let his fingers press into the dip of the other hip bone, feeling
the way his fingertips sink in like a knife to butter.
"I seriously will never get over how hot you are," Stiles murmurs, sucking hard
on Derek's navel, knowing it's sensitive. Derek whines, hips rocking up
restlessly.
"Or how sexy," Stiles adds, moving his mouth down to lick tentatively around
the head of Derek's cock, hand slipping down from the shaft to cup Derek's
balls, squeezing gently.
"And I can always feel how much you like this, Derek. How much you want this."
He flicks his tongue against the slit, getting a taste of salty pre-come as it
leaks out. Already wanting more, he leans down to suck the head in his mouth,
humming around Derek's cock causing him to gasp.
"Every single time, I can tell you want it. Every time. Whenever I get my hands
or mouth on you. Whenever I touch you. Your whole body, Derek. Just thrumming
with arousal." Stiles draws the last word out, voice low and husky as he slowly
slides his mouth down further, taking Derek's cock all the way down to the back
of his throat, his nose pressed right up in Derek's pubes.
"F—uu—ck," Derek curses, whole body jolting forward on the bed. He squeezes his
eyes shut, breaths punching out of him in loud gasps as Stiles swallows around
his cock, throat muscles tightening and creating a wet, hot passage he can
thrust into.
Fun fact about Stiles? He has no gag reflex. None. Yep. None whatsoever.
Awesome, right? It makes deep throating Derek a whole lot easier than it would
be if he did have a gag reflex. Without a gag reflex, he can suck Derek's cock
for as long as he likes without having to come up for a break when Derek's hips
buck too hard. Which he's doing right now, in fact. That along with whimpering
like crazy, and that? That is not good. Whimpering means that Derek's close to
coming, and right now that's bad. Stiles still needs to use the dildo on him.
That means Derek needs to be fully loaded with come so Stiles can get him to
have an amazing orgasm. Definitely one more intense than what having your cock
deep-throated can induce.
So, Stiles pulls off, ignoring the displeased sigh from Derek and the hard,
almost painful-looking red cock in front of him, to move up Derek's body and
kiss him softly on the lips.
Derek whines into his mouth, hips thrusting up to try and get some friction,
but Stiles just swallows up the whine by opening his mouth, letting Derek suck
on his tongue and taste his own come. When Derek tries to thrust up again
Stiles chuckles, parting their lips and rubbing his nose against Derek's
stubbly cheek.
"Okay, pup. You ready?" he breathes, running his hands over Derek's back.
"I'm not a puppy," Derek huffs.
"Yes you are, shut up," Stiles teases. "Now pass me the dildo. Gonna make you
come so hard."
"God," Derek groans, hand fumbling under the pillow to reveal the dildo before
passing it over to Stiles. Stiles takes it, turning it over in his hands a
couple times before looking up at Derek, lips curling at the edges in a smirk
so hot Derek feels like he could come untouched by just looking at it.
"Okay." Stiles splays his hand on Derek's thigh, fingers caressing the soft
skin. "So, I'm thinkin' you should spread. Need a bird's-eye view for this, am
I right?" He winks and Derek nearly actually does come this time.
"Yeah, um, s-sure," he says. Well, croaks more like it, spreading his legs so
Stiles is sitting square in the middle of them. He closes his eyes, hiding his
face in the pillow.
This is the most exposed he's ever felt. Stiles can literally see everything.
"Hey, hey no hiding, Derek," Stiles tuts, lightly digging his fingernails into
Derek's thigh. "Look at me. Look only at me."
Derek hesitantly turns his head, can feel the blush creeping up the back of his
neck and crawling slowly to the tips of his ears. When he makes eye contact
with Stiles the kid is smiling, almost proud.
"See? Not so hard, is it?" Stiles coos, gently brushing his thumb over Derek's
hole.
Derek bites his lip, stifling the gasp before it lets out. "I don't know. I
think you'd be surprised," he grits, eyes drifting down to his cock which,
right now, is standing at attention rather impatiently, pre-come beading from
the head and leaking down the shaft in small trickles.
Stiles snorts a laugh, smirk slipping into a silly one-sided smile. "Cranking
up some bedroom sex jokes now, are we?" he chuckles. "Well, as it may be a
joke, it's also a serious matter. I mean, your cock does not look happy right
now. Man, seriously, it's lookin' kind of like a sad little dog without its
bone—er," he teases.
Derek rolls his eyes and Stiles winces, looking sheepish.
"Wait, no—not that your cock's not big. Fuck no. That thing is a monster.
An alpha cock. No joke… just with pun intended." He wriggles his eyebrows, and
this time it is Derek's turn to snort.
"Are we going to start talking about my dick or are we going to fuck me with a
dildo?" he sighs.
Stiles grins. "We can do both?"
Derek shrugs. "Whatever makes you happy. Now get that thing in me before I rip
y—"
"Need you say the words?" Stiles smirks, circling Derek's entrance with the tip
of the dildo, pressing in gently so it barely pushes past the rim. "This okay?
I know you're a werewolf but, uh, I don't know if we need, like, lubrication.
Do we?"
"Stop worrying. Just put it in, Stiles. It won't kill me," Derek chuckles,
shifting his hips, enough so that when he does he can feel the dildo press in
half an inch more. "Fuck. C'mon, Stiles."
Stiles breathes loudly through his mouth, preparing himself for the worst,
fingers tightening around the base of the dildo before pushing it in with one
hard shove. He shuts his eyes, not wanting to see the damage he's done. He is
honestly expecting Derek to make a sound that signals pain, or at least a
little discomfort, but no. Instead there is a… Is that a moan?
You're kidding.
"S-Stiles, eyes open. Remember?"
Derek's voice is breathy, wrecked, and Stiles can't keep his eyes closed
knowing that Derek is probably looking like a porno actor and he's missing out
on seeing it. He cracks an eye open, then the other, both zeroing in on Derek's
face and…
HOLY FUCK.
"Oh my God, this is so hot. Like, fuck, I think I'm gonna die," Stiles babbles,
mouth getting ahead of his brain as he sees Derek's glazed eyes and parted
lips.
"Oh my God, Derek. You—did you finger yourself today? Is that why you're so—"
He pulls the dildo out, all the way to the tip, before pushing it back in,
Derek's high groan and facial features twisting into a sexy pleasure-grimace
nearly reducing him into nothing but a puddle of goo. "Stretched. Fuck."
"Mhm, did it while you were messing around in the kitchen," Derek says, choking
on a gasp when the tip of the dildo nudges against his prostate.
"I wasn't messing around," Stiles huffs. "I was thinki—"
"Right now you're talking. And I think you should shut up and kiss me."
Stiles laughs, crawling up Derek's body to kiss him. He nibbles on Derek's
bottom lip, before pulling it into his mouth and suckling on it.
Derek whines, hips bucking.
Stiles leaves the bottom lip alone, licks along on the other lip instead,
coaxing Derek's mouth open and pursing his tongue to wriggle it inside. Derek's
mouth is warm and wet, tongue chasing down his own before both their tongues
start entangling. Stiles pants into the kiss, fingers curling around the dildo,
twisting his wrist as he drives it in deeper.
"Stiles," Derek breathes, husky and oh-so-very hot. Stiles just bends his head
to nip across Derek's jaw, setting the pace of the dildo to an easy in-and-out
movement, twisting it on every second stroke. He can feel Derek's whole body
shaking, trembling underneath him, noises coming out of his mouth verging
between low moans and sharp gasps.
"God, Derek, you're so beautiful like this. Fuck, you have no idea how sexy you
look like right now," Stiles groans, tracing a flushed, pink nipple with his
thumb, feeling how it pebbles even harder under his touch. "You're gorgeous.
Seriously, not even kidding. I could do this all day, every day, for the rest
of my life if it meant seeing you like this."
"Ah, Stiles, h-harder, please," Derek whines, hips jerking wildly.
"Since you asked so nicely," Stiles hums, pushing the dildo in harder, dragging
it out slowly then slamming it back in full force. He does it again and again,
drawing out each stroke longer before pumping it back in faster, watching the
way Derek's hips chase down each thrust.
"Stiles, Stiles, Stiles," is like a whimpered chant on Derek's lips, his hips
rocking up eagerly, eyes closed and face tense with obvious pleasured
sensations.
Stiles can hear Derek's sounds turning desperate, even more uncontrolled,
morphing into heavy grunts and choked whimpers.
"Close already, pup?" he coos.
Derek's whimpers rise higher and higher, chants of his name growing louder and
louder.
Stiles takes that as one of the hottest answers yet. He brushes the tip of the
dildo against Derek's prostate before firmly pressing it there, rubbing it
around in circles over and over.
The moment Derek comes is something Stiles will always remember.
Whenever Derek fucks him, he will come inside him with a small whimper or a
choked grunt, their foreheads pressed together so Stiles can see the hint of
fang Derek is hiding between clenched teeth. Stiles has always thought it's
absolutely hot, keeps the noises safe and locked away in his mind for his spank
bank so he can use them every time he jerks off.
Well, now his spank bank needs a re-update.
Because this is definitely the hottest orgasm he's ever seen Derek have.
Derek's whole body seems to levitate off the bed, back arching and hips bucking
violently, cock that is resting against Stiles's stomach streaking come across
both their chests in messy strands.
But the noises.
Fuck, Stiles nearly comes himself when he hears the string of mewled whimpers
and harsh wheezes.
By the time Derek is finished coming, he's practically nuzzled into him, arms
wrapped around Stiles's body and face pressed into his neck, panting heavy
breaths against his skin.
"Wow," Stiles whispers when he gains the power to speak, lazily running his
fingers through Derek's hair. "Shit, that was…"
"Hmm." Derek hums a weak agreement into his neck, latching his mouth under the
skin of his ear and nibbling gently.
"Not finished, huh?" Stiles smiles when Derek hums again, feels a hand wrap
around his cock. "I'm not gonna last long," he chuckles.
"Doesn't matter, wanna see you," Derek murmurs, biting into the skin of his
shoulder, starts to strip his cock in long strokes.
"T-Thought we made a-an agreement that y-you were gonna b-blow me." Stiles
moans, hissing when Derek swipes a thumb over the head.
"Mmm, you said you weren't going to last long," Derek says, twisting his wrist
on an upstroke that has Stiles gasping.
"T-True," Stiles stammers, taking in huge gulps of air as Derek works his cock.
He's already close, Derek's sexy orgasm having affected him more than he'd
thought it would.
When Derek's other hand started to fondle his balls, rolling them in his palm?
Well, that is it.
He squeezes his eyes shut, fingernails digging into Derek's back, hips canting
forward in small aborted jerks as he comes, lips parted on a soft, choked cry.
                                      ***
The pack comes home two hours later.
Isaac sniffs the air, nose wrinkling. "Yeah. I'm out," he says, holding his
hands up before walking out. Boyd and Erica do the same, both looking clearly
irked by the smell of their alpha and pack mate's sex-filled scents.
"Oh my God, this place reeks!" Jackson yells, pinching his nose and running
out. Lydia snorts before following her whining boyfriend out. They have their
own room to sex up, and she intends to do it before the day is over.
"Stiles, seriously, why!?" Scott wails, eyes watering at the overpowering smell
of sex, sweat and come.
"I don't get why you guys make such a big deal about this. It's actually kind
of cute," Allison giggles.
"Allison, no! They do this every time! Every time!" Scott screams before
storming out. Allison sighs, shaking her head before going out in search of
him.
Cora's eyes flash molten amber. "I swear, bro, one day I'm going to cut your
dick off. You too, Stiles!" she fumes angrily before stalking out.
Danny just shrugs, walks over to the couch and turns on the television, lying
back with a smirk.
Being human is great.
End Notes
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