Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/3983683.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Fandom:
      Teen_Wolf_(TV)
  Relationship:
      Derek_Hale/Stiles_Stilinski
  Character:
      Stiles_Stilinski, Scott_McCall, Derek_Hale, Allison_Argent, Lydia_Martin,
      Erica_Reyes, Vernon_Boyd, Isaac_Lahey
  Additional Tags:
      Magic!Stiles, Magic, Paganism, Wicca, Sex_swap
  Stats:
      Published: 2015-05-22 Words: 7170
****** A Misspelling ******
by any_otp_will_do
Summary
     Stiles has been practicing magic for a while now, and lately he's
     been kind of... experimental. His genius plan is to give himself a
     female body to try out sex from a different point of view. No big
     deal, just a couple hours of him alone with a vibrator. Until he
     doesn't change back.
Notes
     I tried my very best to avoid transphobia. I am cis, however, so if I
     fucked up, please tell me. I will make any changes to make others
     more comfortable.
Stiles was nothing if not experimental. Thorough, yes. Careful, well… But given
the chance to try out a new method or idea, he’ll go for it. Especially when it
comes to magic.
He’d been learning magic for over a year. After being whacked around by a fair
number of things that go bump in the night, he decided to protect himself. It
started with small things: talismans, energy clearings, and meditation. He
researched Wiccan customs, checked out books on old magic, and spent hours on
end browsing the internet. He asked Deaton a few questions in the beginning,
but the man was too cryptic to get much concrete information. So Google became
Stiles’s go to, unless he needed supplies. He didn’t know if Deaton had an
Emissary Amazon or what, but he always had hard to find plants and herbs on
hand.
His friends were plenty supportive. Erica, Boyd, and Isaac had all given him
some valuable herbs that they found in the woods one night. He’d grown more and
more skilled at small spells and simple incantations. Stiles’s talents were
pretty useful in helping the humans heal and sometimes he even managed to help
in a fight. But that was usually with a bat, not magic. It still took a lot of
concentration for him to work spells.
So, after contemplating what sex feels like for women, taking part in some
crossdressing, and generally getting in touch with his feminine side, he made
the executive to exchange his male body for a female one for a day. He spent
days researching and troubleshooting, coming up with possible problems, and
finally, gathering supplies. Most of them were easy, ordered online or bought
from the grocery store. He had sage and spearmint in his own little garden and
Allison had given him a large bottle of vanilla extract for his eighteenth
birthday. He got a near endless supply of mountain ash from Deaton, so that
wasn’t even close to a problem. With a little bit of stealth, he took a few
clippings from a periwinkle plant at a local garden shop.
It was a cool summer night, his dad was out with some friends, and Stiles was
more than ready. With everything set out on his cleared off desk, he checked
the wikihow page for Wiccan rituals and set about cleansing the space. After
smudging the air with some burning sage, he took a quick shower with some of
the vanilla extract to enhance his mental abilities. Stiles stepped from the
tub, wiped the steam from the mirror, and peered at himself in the glass. He
tried to imagine himself with a female form, but he couldn’t really come up
with anything. He turned to the door and walked back to his room. He decided
against getting dressed as he would just take them off, and pulled the blinds
and dropped his towel. Stiles rubbed periwinkle and spearmint on his inner
wrists, inner elbows, and below his jaw, also for mental reinforcement. He’d
found that Adderall didn’t cut it when it came to magic.
He set his supplies on the floor, making sure he had a lighter and everything
was within reach. He sat down on his towel and meditated. He imagined roots
growing from his tailbone, falling down from where his legs were criss-crossed
and connecting him to the ground. He shut out his thoughts, focusing on the air
on his skin, the towel underneath him, his breathing. He felt himself relaxing
and opened his eyes which had fluttered closed.
“In the name of Aphrodite and Himeros, I cast my working circle.” Stiles
muttered. He had chosen the two for their sexual domain. Himeros, the god of
sexual desire, mainly because this change was to experiment sexually,
Aphrodite, the goddess of beauty and lust, because of her womanly energy. If he
wanted to have a female body, he figured he should honor a goddess. “May you
bestow your love and guidance as I welcome you with honor.”
He picked up his candles and set them in each of the four directions. He lit
the small column candle and stood up. Walking the circle clockwise, he
murmured, “I cast and consecrate this circle with the element of fire.” As he
passed each candle, he bent and touched flame to wick until four tongues of
fire flickered. “May the Guardians of this element guide and guard me as I
welcome and honor their presence and power.”
Next he picked up a small jar of cleansed water. He dipped his fingers in and
sprinkled the water over each candle, again in a clockwise direction. “I cast
and consecrate this circle with the element of water. May the Guardians of this
element guide and guard me as I welcome and honor their presence and power.”
One of the candles sputtered at the moisture, but he ignored it.
With a handful of mountain ash, he walked clockwise, laying the foundation of
an actual circle. He knew that casting a circle didn’t mean a physical circle,
but he didn’t want to step over the invisible boundaries by accident. And he
knew the mountain ash would only help contain the magic and increase its
strength. “I cast and consecrate this circle with the element of earth. May the
Guardians of this element guide and guard me as I welcome and honor their
presence and power.”
Using one of the candles to light the jasmine incense, he walked the inside of
the circle, a thin trail of smoke swirling in his wake. “I cast and consecrate
this circle with the element of air. May the Guardians of this element guide
and guard me as I welcome and honor their presence and power.” He felt a
shimmer in the air and took a minute to honor the gods. The wiki page had
suggested a symbol to focus on, and Stiles hoped a printed picture of a
sculpture for each deity would be adequate.
Now it was time to focus and cast the spell. This was the part he was nervous
about. He hadn’t found anything on free form rituals, so he was just going to…
wing it. Which was probably a horrible idea, but he definitely wasn’t going to
ask Deaton for help on this one. It was a private exploration.
Stiles placed the persimmon, lemongrass, ginger, and ginseng in a bowl. He had
crushed the dried plants with a mortar and pestle earlier that day, so they
would easily burn. He drizzled patchouli oil over it all and sat back, reaching
for his lighter. The persimmon would be the key to changing his sex while the
others all embodied elements of lust and love. He flicked the lighter and let
the flame touch the contents of the bowl. It took a few minutes, but soon smoke
was rising and curling upwards.
“With the guide of the guardians, I ask for this boon: to be as a female in
this month of June. Aphrodite and Himeros, with lust you’ve created, I
transform my body until carnality sated.” Stiles did his best to be specific as
possible, but couldn’t think of anything that rhymed with orgasm that didn’t
sound stupid, so he wrote something else. He made sure to picture himself
clearly, body transformed into that of a female.
He felt the tingles moving down his body and grinned. Awesome. But before he
stopped to check himself out, he needed to release the energy in the circle. He
thanked Aphrodite and Himeros and the elements, releasing them. Stiles felt his
center shift as he walked counterclockwise and blew out the candles and cleared
the mountain ash. As soon as the circle was broken, the air shimmered again. He
bowed his head for a moment to clear his mind and ground himself once again.
Stiles opened his eyes and looked down at his chest. He lifted his hand to feel
his new body parts. His breasts were perky and pale. The color of his areolas
were a little lighter, but still a brownish color. There was still a mole above
his right nipple. He touched them a little, curious, and he felt warmth low in
his stomach. He let go of a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. He ran the
tips of his fingers over the flat of his stomach and back up to his nipples.
They were fun to play with and each brush sent a pulse to his belly and thighs
and between his legs.
He smiled in the darkness and tipped over to his bed, flopping down. His
breasts bounced with the movement and he instinctively cupped them. To be
honest, they weren’t much bigger than when he was normal. They fit underneath
his curved palms easily. He ran his blunt nails over the rounded flesh, feeling
his nipples stiffen. He did the same down his sides and smooth thighs—a few
months ago he had tried shaving his legs and under his arms and decided he
quite liked the softness, so he kept it up.
Arousal was different. Instead of a rush of blood and a tightening in his
balls, he felt wetness and warmth. He let the pad of his middle finger settle
on the slit of his vagina. It tickled a little bit. When he slid down a little,
he brushed what must have been his clit. It made his legs twitch. He did it
again and gasped quietly. He had read up on female physiology, but it came
nowhere near experiencing it firsthand. He could feel his heartbeat through his
finger when he left his hand on his clit. When he pressed down for real, making
circular motions, he felt his whole body tense up. It was entirely too intense,
but too awesome to stop.
He set up a rhythm with his fingers, rubbing in circles, while his other hand
wandered about his body. He grabbed his breasts and nipples, his stomach, his
thigh, anything his hands found purchase on. He could feel a build in his gut.
Lower than his belly, but not really his vagina either. It must be his uterus?
There were levels that overlapped and grew over each other. He bit his lip and
breathed heavily as he felt the pressure build. His stomach contracted and he
clenched deep inside and suddenly he was falling off the edge of the world. It
wasn’t much like male orgasm. It was drawn out and tight, twisting to a painful
constriction, and then sudden release.
Stiles stared up at the ceiling in awe, breathing heavily. “Holy shit.” He
whispered. He then vowed to repeat that as many times as possible before the
night was over and he was back to normal. He felt around for the small toy he
kept on hand and a condom, both of which he had placed on his bed before he had
even started the spell. “Time to get reacquainted, friend.” He muttered to the
dildo.
*************
Stiles woke when a hot streak ran through him. He didn’t open his eyes, but
reached down to grab his morning wood.
And missed.
Well, not missed. Missing it implies it was there. Which it wasn’t.
Stiles’s eyes flew open and he looked down where a boner should have been
proudly protruding and flopped over onto his stomach. Instead he saw his
breasts, soft tummy, and no penis except the fake one he had used last night
which was perched at the edge of the bed. He felt a blush run from his hairline
to his thighs as he throbbed between his legs. His hands moved of their own
accord to rub against the swollen, wet area at the apex of his thighs. His back
arched and his hand moved quickly. Stiles snatched the dildo from his bed and
sucked it into his mouth. He moaned quietly, realizing his father might be
home.
He pulled the slick toy from his lips and swiped the wet plastic over his hard
nipples. The cooling feeling made his brow furrow and he shoved the corner of
his pillow into his mouth to help him stay quiet. Without much finesse, he
thrust the dildo into himself, left hand pumping the smooth shaft inwards while
his right pressed insistently against his clit. His hips moved in sinuous
circles, trying to get every ounce of friction he possibly could. Stiles felt
the now familiar volcanic heat threatening to erupt. His teeth clamped down on
the sodden material in his mouth as he pushed down against the bed and rode out
the crashing, blinding mess that was his orgasm.
Stiles sat up, panting and wiping his sweaty forehead. The spell should have
worn off by now. He crossed to his desk and looked at all his herbs and plants
from last night. Nothing was out of the ordinary. He supposed he’d just have to
redo the ritual and reverse it. He sat down to ground himself, knowing he’d
need it. He was nearly brain dead from all the orgasms last night. He imagined
roots coming from his tailbone, as he always did but he also thought about how
his breasts felt in the relative cool of his room. He tried to reestablish his
connection to the earth, but was interrupted by the feeling of liquid heat
pooling in his stomach. Soon enough, the throbbing was all he could think
about.
Having a vagina can’t make a person this horny all the time. They’d never get
anything done!
Stiles thumbed his clit again and lay back, feeling the hot flesh in his
fingers. This wasn’t good. He flicked at his clit insistently, pushing two
fingers into himself. There was obviously something else going on here.
Something distinctly not female related. Maybe he’d fucked up the spell.
Whatever he’d done—he curled his fingers upwards and bit his lip sharply—he
couldn’t concentrate enough to undo it. As embarrassing as it was, he was going
to need help. He rode his fingers, grinding his palm against his clit until he
came, sweaty and hoarse and in need of a shower.
He sent a text to Scott.
Sent: 8:23
Hey, I need your help. It’s not deathly urgent, but I kind of fucked up.
It was a good thing that Scott was more on track these days. If he had needed
this kind of help when Scott first turned, it would be a lot harder to get his
attention. Part of that wasn’t really his fault, what with the monsters and
alphas and crazy magic stuff. But he and Allison had settled to a point where
the crazy sex stuff could be put off until after Stiles was no longer in
trouble. He absent mindedly played with his nipples while he waited for Scott
to reply.
Received: 8:26
What’s up? How many of us do you need?
Sent: 8:26
Just you.
Sent: 8:26
I may have done a ritual that involved the loss of my penis in exchange for a
vagina.
Received: 8:27
You turned yourself into a girl?
Sent: 8:27
I am not a girl. I have a vagina. It's different. 
Received: 8:28
I'll be over soon. 
Stiles tossed his phone on the bed. It was probably a good idea to put some
clothes on. He stretched to a stand and considered his wardrobe. He opened a
drawer and pulled out a pair of boxer briefs, hauling them up over his hips.
The elastic didn't bite as much, but they stayed put. He had to pull the
strings of his gym shorts tight, the fabric bunching up a little. It was too
hot to wear more concealing clothes, so he settled for his lacrosse shirt. The
cloth was distracting against his nipples. Even the shift when he took a breath
was enough to distinctly draw his attention. He was still turned on and the
stimulation echoed through his body like a shout in a cave.
Scott knocked on the door and let himself in, bounding up the stairs before
Stiles could do anything but meet him in the hall. Scott's eyes widened and he
released a low whistle. "Dude. You're kind of hot."
"I am?" They ducked into his room and Stiles went right for the mirror. He
wasn't really that different. The curves were enticing, he'd admit. But the
rest? He was still pale and dappled with moles. His lips and lashes were not
much changed and he hadn't suddenly transformed into a nymph. He eyed his
friend suspiciously.
"How did this happen, exactly?" Scott was peering at the residue of spell
casting, no doubt smelling the sweet and smoky aroma of burnt plants.
"Well it wasn't an accident, if that's what you're wondering." Scott raised an
eyebrow. "I was wondering about sex from a female perspective." He refused to
be embarrassed about it.
Scott choked. Stiles refused to show that he was embarrassed about it.
"I was careful. I did my research." He said defensively. His arms crossed and
brushed his breasts and he felt it flash through him. The wetness that rushed
in its wake was unsettling. Scott's nostrils flared, but he didn't comment.
"So what's the problem?" Scott was clearly a little thrown.
"I was supposed to change back by now." 
"You did a timed spell?" Scott asked incredulously. "That's awesome."
"Maybe if it had worked it would have been cool, but no. It wasn't a timed
spell. It was a spell corresponding to a certain activity." He was being vague,
he knew it. “The idea was I would go back after I had a few orgasms.” He
confessed.
Scott rolled his eyes. “Alright, then. I know nothing about magic, so I can’t
really help you. We should meet up with Derek. He’s had the most experience
with magic people and things, so he might know something. And we’ll ask Lydia
over, because she’s a genius and will probably figure it out before she walks
in the door.”
Stiles sighed, but stuffed his feet into his shoes anyway. Scott drove and they
talked as they took the familiar path to Derek’s house. Stiles texted Lydia who
let them know she’d be there shortly. It was all fine and dandy until Stiles
began to notice the vibrations from the engine sinking into his skin. He
blushed hotly, hoping Scott would not notice the fresh waves of slickness he
could feel under his waistband. He stifled a groan as they went over a pothole
and his breasts bounced.
Scott looked over at him, no doubt taking in his red face and scent. “Whoa,
dude! Are you… Why are you so turned on?” He said it gently, which was
surprising. Stiles was expecting him to be grossed out. Then again, they were
open with each other and had plenty of weird and TMI conversations.
“I don’t know!” He said, exasperated. “It’s been like this all day. I’ve gotten
off eight times since I turned, and I don’t think that’s an average when it
comes to being a girl. Person with a vagina.” He corrected.
Scott laughed as they pulled in next to Lydia’s car. They clambered out and
Stiles continued. “It’s really freaking distracting. My nipples are never this
sensitive.” He muttered. They both snorted, walking through the door to the
reconstructed Pack house.
And Stiles was treated with a visual smack in the face. They must have just
been training, or working out, because Derek and his betas were all thoroughly
disheveled. Erica had her hair in a ponytail and beads of sweat running down
her neck. Isaac was gulping down a glass of water, barely stopping to breathe.
Boyd was next to Erica, rubbing her leg half-heartedly as he panted.
Derek—well.
Derek was sweaty and shirtless. He ran his fingers through his hair and all
Stiles could think of was sex hair. The slabs of muscles rippled as he grabbed
a tank top and pulled it over his head. His biceps bunched as he flattened the
shirt over his abs. It clung lightly to the moisture that collected in the
ridges of his stomach and Stiles felt his underwear getting wet. Derek’s
nostrils flared and he zeroed in on Stiles, looking him up and down. Stiles
whimpered. It was even harder to hide his super massive crush on Derek like
this, despite not having to deal with awkward boners.
“Okay!” He meeped as Scott called for everyone’s attention, scrambling over to
sit by Lydia and attempting to quell the floodgates. “Stiles did some magic,
and for some reason it hasn’t worn off.”
Lydia eyed him. “That was wonderfully vague.”
Stiles blushed. “I, uhm, decided it would be pretty cool to experience sex—sort
of—from a female perspective. I used a Wiccan ritual, which I’ve done before.
I’m usually pretty good at them, so it’s kind of surprising that this is being
stubborn. I was supposed to turn back after I came a few times.”
Everyone but Lydia, Scott, and Erica shifted uncomfortably. Erica actually
laughed out loud. “How many times?” She giggled.
“I didn’t specify.” Stiles rolled his eyes at her. “But I wasn’t expecting it
to be more than eight…”
“Wait, you’ve had eight orgasms? How long have you been like this?” Lydia
asked, perfectly shaped brows raised.
“I did the ritual late last night…” Stiles thought. “Probably less than 10
hours.”
“That’s impressive.” Boyd commented. They all looked at him, surprised. “What?
I know things." He said defensively. "I was under the impression women had a
harder time getting off.”
“Not necessarily. But on your own, it’s more unusual. Especially to someone who
hasn’t had time to figure out how the female body works.”
“It hasn’t been that hard.” Isaac giggled and Stiles glared at him. “I’ve been
horny ever since. Is it like this for you all the time?” He directed the
question at Lydia and Erica.
“No.” They said in unison.
“Maybe you fucked up?” Isaac offered. Stiles repositioned himself and grunted
at the sensation of the sofa under him, pressing against his hot, wet—
“Yes, thank you Isaac.” He gritted through his teeth.
“Did you use any unusual or powerful substances with the spell?” Lydia asked.
Stiles thought back to the ginger. “I may or may not have included an
aphrodisiac…”
She rolled her eyes. “Well, that’s your problem.”
He huffed in frustration. “Fantastic. How am I going to fix it? It shouldn’t
really matter that there’s an aphrodisiac if the spell was supposed to wear off
anyway.”
“…What was the wording you used?” Boyd asked. “In the ritual.”
Stiles racked his brain. “Uhm, I asked for guidance from Himeros and Aphrodite…
or their blessing. Something. Requested to be a female until carnality sated.”
He used air quotes for the last bit. When the group stared, he retreated a
little. “What? I couldn’t think of anything that would rhyme with orgasm, okay?
Sheesh, everyone’s a critic.” Quiet fell over them and quickly grew tight and
uncomfortable. Stiles’s skin began to prickle and he grew hot under the
pressure. He needed, he needed—
“That sounds suspiciously like a loophole.” Erica was the first to break the
silence. Stiles was glad for the distraction. He looked at her while she spoke.
“Carnality sated doesn’t sound like a few orgasms. It sounds like ‘until you’re
not horny anymore’. And if the aphrodisiac isn’t enough to go on, the smell
coming off you that is evident to almost everyone in this room definitely tells
us. You’re still horny and you’re not going to get your dick back until the
horny has been fucked out of you.”
“But I’ve been masturbating a lot already—oh. You mean?” She grinned at him,
teeth gleaming. “I need to be fucked. Like, for real. Someone needs to bang me
like a screen door in a hurricane. Right now. Seriously, I’m having trouble
containing myself.” It was true. His fingers itched at his side, longing for
the wet satin he knew he’d find in his pants. His mind fell on Derek before he
could even pretend he wouldn’t do it. All those straining muscles, his large
fingers inside of him, he could practically taste his dick. Stiles bit his palm
and his hips ground down instinctively.
All the wolves leaned away from him, except Derek who remained absolutely
still, hunkered over his clasped hands. Lydia just looked embarrassed on his
behalf. He appreciated that, seeing as he couldn’t find it in himself to be
ashamed. “Excuse me, I’m going to go take care of this real quick, and we can
talk again.”
He darted from the room before anyone could stop him, making a beeline for the
bathroom upstairs. If he was farther away, he could give them the possibility
of not listening. He shoved his hand down his pants, moaning in relief when he
found his clit. Stiles flushed as he thought about Derek touching him. Kissing
his neck, biting hickeys into his skin, ravishing him until he couldn’t think.
His hips stuttered as he slid two fingers into himself, slick and warm. He’d
probably never get over the feeling. He fucked his hand, using his thumb to
stimulate his clit, pinching his nipple with the other. His nipples had grown
pretty tender, so he cried out in pain and pleasure. He flicked the sore buds
until he couldn’t stand it, keeling over onto the bathroom rug and mercilessly
fingering himself. He came with the image of Derek standing over him, cock
glistening with precome…
Stiles stood on watery legs, the band of his underwear snapping as he pulled
his fingers from himself. He washed his hands and dried them before slowly
descending the stairs. When he peeked into the living room, it was empty except
for a very uncomfortable looking Derek.
“Uhm… where’d everyone go?” Stiles hedged, face heated.
“I’ll do it.” Derek blurted and then hung his head, pink creeping up his neck
and into his ears.
“What?” Stiles was lost. Then it clicked. His eyes widened. Everyone left so he
and Derek could talk privately. He peeked at Derek’s pants and was happy to see
the tented front.
Derek looked up at him and his face was pained, like he was afraid of what he
was about to say. “But… I don’t want to do it if it’s just going to be sex. I
want to be with you.  If you don’t want that, I can try to help you find
someone else.”
“I don’t want that.” Stiles breathed. Derek looked sad. “No, no! I mean, I
don’t want you to find someone else. I want you. I want you to—”
Derek closed the gap between them with a few strides, snaking his arm around
Stiles waist until he was bowed against him. One hand came and cupped his neck
as their lips met in a frenzy. Stiles gasped at the feeling of stubble burn on
his cheeks, attempting to get as close to Derek as possible. He jumped up and
wrapped his legs around Derek’s waist. Hands conveniently caught him under the
ass. He walked them backwards into a wall, grinding into Stiles and—oh god.
His brain shorted out at the feeling of Derek’s hard dick rubbing into him. It
was probably the best feeling to date. He choked off a moan, breaking away from
Derek’s lips to pant into the crook of his neck. They were moving their hips in
a frantic attempted circle. There was no finesse, but that was fine. Stiles
loved the little grunts and shaky breaths Derek emitted. The house was still
and quiet except for them. A nearby table/sideboard wobbled with their
movements. Derek’s hands came up to hook under Stiles’s legs and spread them
further. Lips met the column of his throat and he mewled. He could feel Derek’s
dick twitch in his pants and it brushed against Stiles’s clit.
“Oh, god, right there.” He was breathless, kissing messily at Derek’s jaw and
chin and ear, all the while receiving neat little hickeys all down his neck.
Hard pelvis ground into him and he came. His legs wrapped more tightly around
Derek’s waist, trying to keep him there, dry humping against a wall. His
fingers dug themselves into tense muscle, black hair, anything he could get his
hands on. When he pulled back, he looked into Derek’s eyes, dazed and dilated
but far too coherent.
Stiles wiggled until Derek set him down, sinking to his knees. “I’m going to
suck your brain out through your dick.” The groan that fell from above him was
the best thing he ever heard. “Do I need a condom?”
“Werewolves can’t give or receive STDs.” Derek breathed.
Stiles pulled at Derek’s belt buckle, getting the material out of the way. The
pants pooled on the floor and Stiles cupped Derek’s uncut cock rapturously, as
if it held all the secrets of the universe. Flushed at the head and warm,
Stiles looked up at the look on Derek’s face as he held his breath.
He shrugged the hood away from the tip, leaning in to feather his tongue over
it. He tasted the salt and circled around the head, slowly sinking down the
length. He felt Derek’s hands come up to rest on his head and he mentally
smiled. While he lavished attention on the top, he used his hand to pump the
shaft. He made his slow and smooth way down to the base, swiveling his neck.
Derek choked back his groans, fingers not pressuring his head down. The taste
and weight of Derek in his mouth was enough to get him hot all over again. When
he began to bob his head, he reached down into his pants and touched himself.
This was ridiculous. But it all felt so good. He gave up trying to think
straight when Derek’s hands tangled in his short hair and tugged.
Stiles moaned around Derek’s dick and he stiffened, salty wetness hitting his
tongue. Derek twitched above him and Stiles’s fingers crooked inside himself,
as he came for what felt like the hundredth time. He stood up unsteadily and
pushed Derek against the wall, nosing along his jaw and tugging his ear between
blunt teeth. Derek panted and whimpered quietly, hands spanning Stiles’s back.
“Do you want to go upstairs?” He asked in a husky, fucked out voice.
Stiles nodded when he failed to push any noise out of his mouth. Derek took his
hand-- fingers interlocking-- and rubbed his thumb soothingly over the back of
Stiles’s palm. His stomach fluttered and he looked at Derek shyly, initial bout
of lust driven confidence over. He was finally going to lose his virginity. To
Derek, of all people. He pushed those thoughts away before he lost all his
nerve. Derek led him up the stairs and Stiles stared at the glorious ass before
him. He must have left his pants and boxers downstairs. Stiles’s mouth went dry
and he took a deep breath as they reached the landing.
Derek turned around to look at him, looking uncertain. “Are you okay? Are you
sure about this?” The compassion in his eyes made Stiles want to squish his
face and make him pizza rolls.
“Yes, you big affectionate baby.” Stiles assured him. “I just… can’t really
believe this is happening. I want it to. Believe me. Definitely want to do the
thing. I’m just a bit nervous.”
Derek smiled gently. “I’m nervous too. If you need anything or want anything,
tell me to stop, tell me to do whatever you need.”
Stiles nodded and they rounded the corner, walking through the first door on
the right. Derek’s room was neat and clean. Fresh air and clean sunlight
filtered through the open window, the walls were dark green and matched his
comforter, which was kicked to the wayside, as if Derek was a restless sleeper.
The sheets were black and Stiles sat down on them distractedly while Derek went
to his dresser and pulled out a condom. In response to Stiles’s confused
expression, he shrugged.
“It’ll be easier for cleanup. And we don’t know if this will fix the spell.”
Right.
Derek pulled his shirt over his head and dropped it by the foot of the bed.
Stiles stared; his breathing picked up and he instinctively ground down onto
Derek’s bed. Derek’s nostrils flared. “My bed is going to smell like you for
weeks.” He said, sounding excited by the idea. Derek moved forward and Stiles
spread his legs to make room. Derek hummed appreciatively and moved into
Stiles’s space, meeting his lips gently.
Derek made his way from Stiles's mouth to his jaw, nosing up right to his
earlobe and grabbing it with his teeth. His nose skimmed down to below his chin
and he harshly sucked pale flesh between his teeth. Stiles reclined to give
Derek more skin to work with. He nibbled and sucked his way down and to the
side, and Stiles could just imagine the hickeys. He bruised so easily, he just
knew this would leave violent splotches over his skin.
Not that he minded.
Derek’s hands skimmed under his shirt, pads of his fingers stroking his belly,
up his ribs, to his collarbone. He pulled the shirt up as he went, and Stiles
lifted his arms. When he noticed Stiles’s hairless underarms, he lifted his
eyebrows.
“I like the way it feels.” Stiles said defensively as he yanked the shirt over
his head. “Legs too.”
“I don’t mind.” Derek assured him. “Your body, your choice.”
“Damn right.” Stiles nodded as Derek cupped one of his breasts in a large hand.
He felt a warmth spread through him when Derek rolled his nipple between his
thumb and forefinger. His hands weren't rough, but there was a texture to them
that dragged along his sensitive skin. His nipples were hard under clever
digits that teased him. Derek lowered his head and ran his tongue along the
underside of his left breast, tasting the sweet curve. He kissed his sternum
and peppered kisses under the other side. His hands were resting against his
ribs and his thumbs softly caressed the soft swells of his chest.
When Derek caught a nipple in his mouth, Stiles clutched at him, craving
closeness. Warm lips, wet tongue, and gentle teeth closed over him and he
sighed happily. Derek smiled and came up to meet Stiles's mouth with a kiss.
Derek untied the strings of his gym shorts. He slid his finger under the
elastic teasingly and Stiles looked at him eagerly.
“Can I go down on you?” Derek asked casually, like it was an everyday question.
“Yes, yes. Do the thing.” Stiles couldn’t get the words out quickly enough.
Derek’s fingers caught the band of his boxers as well as he pulled the shorts
down. Stiles nearly squeaked when he pushed them off to the side of the bed. He
reached down and held Stiles’s waist to encourage him to move up and to the
center of the bed. Stiles fell back against the pillows and propped himself up
on his elbows so he could watch Derek dip down on his belly and snake forward
between his legs. Stiles let his knees drop and Derek draped them over his
shoulders.
He looked up the length of Stiles's body, fingers tripping along his belly and
breasts. "You are so beautiful."
Stiles held his breath as Derek made eye contact with him before bowing his
head and kissing the inside of his thigh. He let it out in a sharp, annoyed
gust, almost ready to complain if little thrills weren’t running through him.
He watched little marks bud as Derek turned his cheek and kissed his other leg,
getting closer and closer to the apex of his thighs. After the third hickey,
Stiles whined.
“Derek, I fucking swear to--Oh god.”
Derek ran the flat of his tongue up his slit, smiling devilishly. He nosed
around before finding Stiles’s clit and flicking his tongue over it. Stiles
twitched and stuttered out a breath. Derek slipped his finger into his mouth
and wet it thoroughly, meeting Stiles's eyes. He reached down and toyed lazily
with the little nub as he slid his tongue down and inside. Stiles grunted,
reaching down to scrunch Derek’s hair in his fist.
The feeling of Derek's tongue inside him made his breath come hard and hot. A
hand gripped his hip on the left side, lifting slightly. Stiles's pelvis was
elevated and he looked down at Derek's dark hair, surprised at his enthusiasm.
As if on cue, he moaned. The vibrations triggered Stiles's own whimper. He
wanted--he needed--
Derek pinched Stiles’s clit and he squeaked, feeling moisture prick over his
skin and a tenseness build in his gut. Derek retracted his tongue and replaced
it with his finger, sliding the pointer up to his knuckle inside. His mouth
settled over Stiles’s clit and he sucked. Stiles unconsciously pushed Derek’s
face down harder as he lifted his hips.
Stiles lost himself in the shivers, heaving in breath after breath, but the
oxygen wasn't  enough to saturate his whole body. He made a few attempts at
speech, but only produced a few airy 'fucks' and 'yeses'.
Derek pumped a second finger in slowly and flickered his tongue quickly as
Stiles experienced the best feeling of his life. Little jolts shot across his
skin and he sucked in a harsh breath. He felt everything: the sheets under his
back, the way his feet struggled for purchase on the bed, the twist of his
hands in Derek’s hair. He gasped as the tingles washed over him and his body
tensed. He could hear himself laughing brokenly but couldn’t get himself to
stop; hysterical garbled noises tumbled from his lips as he came down from his
high.
He propped himself up on his elbows, and smiled lazily at Derek, who blushed.
He slowly pulled his fingers out, and sucked them into his mouth. Stiles
clenched in response. He leveled a glare at his vagina. “Seriously? You need to
chill out.” He looked up at amused eyebrows. “Make it stop.” He whined at
Derek.
“That’s the plan.”
Stiles smacked his arm as Derek pulled up so he was kneeling between Stiles’s
thighs. The condom was already on, and Stiles smiled in anticipation. Derek
leaned over him, intertwining their fingers. They kissed and Derek thrust
forward into him.
The stretch was the most glorious feeling he could have imagined. He felt the
aphrodisiac coursing through his veins like tendrils of steam. He choked and
gasped as Derek pulled out and pushed back in. Stiles needed to move. He needed
to chase the burning sensation that flared up with Derek's thrusts. He lifted
his hips to meet Derek's strokes with more intensity. He couldn't get enough.
His body ached for the satisfaction he knew it would find. Hands reached under
his ass and yanked him upward, and he wrapped his legs around Derek's hips.
Derek dropped his head on Stiles's shoulder and moaned.

He felt the noise pierce him, and he yelped as he felt the spell burning
through his body. Stiles grabbed Derek's face and kissed him, trying to find a
way to hold on with his lips. They broke apart when Stiles tensed up, and
squeezed around Derek. He met Derek's gaze, surprised to find him almost
completely lost, too. He wondered, vaguely, if the aphrodisiac would affect him
too. He doubted it, but maybe.
Derek settled back and dropped his large hands on Stiles's hips. He used the
leverage to fuck into him properly, with a good hard rhythm. Werewolf strength
was impressive on pretty much any occasion, but Derek could move him like he
weighed no more than fifty pounds. Stiles panted against the pillows, trying to
figure out what he needed. He felt like he was being taken apart, as if his
body was going to fly into pieces. The aphrodisiac ran hot through him, burning
in an unpleasant way. He needed-- he needed.
"Derek, hold me." He reached out and grabbed for Derek's shoulders, trying to
haul himself upward. He feel like he was going to fall apart.
Smoothly, Derek reached down and pulled him close. Stiles's legs landed on the
mattress, straddling Derek's lap. He ground downward, biting his fist. Strong
arms wrapped around him tightly, holding him together. He gasped and whimpered
as Derek thrust upward into him. They both surge at each other, mouths meeting
harshly. Stiles could feel his lips bruising, but the pain barely registered.
The heat built quickly, until he pulled away with a sharp cry. His hips
stuttered and he dug his fingers into Derek's back. He felt the skin tear under
his nails, and would have felt bad if he didn't feel Derek's low growl under
his hands. Stiles stopped breathing, unable to make any noise as he peaked. He
pulled the stars out of the sky one by one, but none of them could compare to
the fire he felt as the orgasm burned through his body and left him dry and
satisfied.
Derek groaned lowly as Stiles released a shuddering breath. He froze for a
moment, muscles taut, before letting his head fall forward on Stiles's
shoulder. Their heavy breathing filled their ears before Stiles started
laughing.
"I think that's the best thing that's ever happened to me." He said, kissing
Derek's nose and ears and cheeks with each word. "You're amazing." He captured
his mouth softly.
"How are you feeling?" Derek asked, eyes still slightly crazed. "Spell wise."
"Never better. My vagina is satisfied. I should change back soon, I think."
"I hope these hickeys stay when you turn back." Derek sighed, fingers toying
with the cluster of bruises on his hip bones.
"Me too." Stiles agreed. He ran his fingers over a particularly dark one on his
thigh, which tingled in response. The sensation spread outwards, through his
whole body. "I think this is it. You should pull out now."
"Oh, right." Derek moved away, taking off the condom as he did so. He threw it
away quickly, keeping his eyes on Stiles's transformation.
It was just as quick as the first time. The shimmering feeling dissipated, and
he could feel a lightness on his chest and a heaviness between his legs. He lay
back against the pillows, feeling pretty tired.
"Orgasms are tiring." He whined, making grabby hands at Derek. He wanted to
feel his strong chest against his back while he took a nap. "Let's sleep."
Derek agreed, crawling up next to him. He settled down, one arm slung over
Stiles's stomach. He ran his fingers along the happy trail, which tickled in a
nice way.
"Derek, you still think I'm attractive, right? Like, with this body?"
"Yes, of course I do." Derek said. He kissed  the hickey on his shoulder, and
nuzzled closer. Stiles wanted to stay awake, but his body was too weary. He
twined his fingers with Derek's before nodding off.
 
 
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