Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/2476643.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Teen_Wolf_(TV)
  Relationship:
      Derek_Hale/Stiles_Stilinski
  Character:
      Derek_Hale, Stiles_Stilinski, Scott_McCall
  Additional Tags:
      The_Sims_3, Fluff_and_Smut, Snark, Bad_Jokes, Misunderstandings, Derek
      doesn't_realize_it's_not_his_own_ass, because_he's_dumb, Scott_has
      terrible_grammar, Technology_Impaired_Derek, First_Time, Sarcasm
  Stats:
      Published: 2014-10-19 Words: 6206
****** Extremely Irresistable ******
by exxcision_(eggpainter)
Summary
     Stiles idly clicks through The Sims 3, leaning back against the
     headboard of his bed, laptop in his, well, lap. He sends Derek to
     take a shower while his own sim sits at one of the computer desks
     writing his new book, "Stop Making Me Name This Shit Gimme Money", ah
     yes, a true poet he is, a master of words, in fact, THE master of
     words. He lifts a hand to scratch his cheek before checking their
     son's needs. Derek and his, son's needs. So what if he has a Sims
     game where he and Derek are happily married in a 300,000 simoleon
     mansion, with their floppy haired big-eyed son, Scott. It doesn't
     mean anything. He's not pining after Derek and his perfect, globular,
     spectacular, ass. Okay, never mind, he totally was, but that ASS.
Notes
     This happened because I was playing my Sterek game on Sims 3 and
     Derek came out completely naked and I was like??? Then I decided the
     same thing needed to happen to Stiles and this monstrosity was born,
     sorry not sorry. This is my first Sterek fic and kinda my first fic
     in general, so, yeah, enjoy that. Not beta-read because I'm a newbie
     at this and I'm also garbage. <3
Stiles idly clicks through The Sims 3, leaning back against the headboard of
his bed, laptop in his, well, lap. He sends Derek to take a shower while his
own sim sits at one of the computer desks writing his new book, "Stop Making Me
Name This Shit Gimme Money", ah yes, a true poet he is, a master of words, in
fact, THE master of words. He lifts a hand to scratch his cheek before checking
their son's needs. Derek and his, son's needs. So what if he has a Sims game
where he and Derek are happily married in a 300,000 simoleon mansion, with
their floppy haired big-eyed son, Scott. It doesn't mean anything. He's not
pining after Derek and his perfect, globular, spectacular, ass. Okay, never
mind, he totally was, but that ASS. He set Derek's sim to feed and play with
Scott as soon as he finishes his shower and ironically enough, receives a text
just then from the real-life Scott.
[r u gonna stay in bed all fuckin day or r u coming]
Stiles smirks to himself, unlocking his phone. There's no way he'd miss an
opportunity to use an innuendo. Scott totally set himself up for it, too.
[bro who says im not already coming?? ;)]
[ur fucking gross]
[be here before 6pm or im gonna kill u]
Stiles glances at the clock on his phone. Oh. 5:30. Pm. What the fuck. Well, he
did agree to hang out with Scott and Isaac today, but he's absolutely sure it
was 8 am. a few hours ago. He definitely hasn't gone downstairs for food, he
definitely hasn't had on anything more than an old pair of checkered boxers,
and he definitely hasn't stopped playing sims, all day.
[k im coming excuse me princess]
The reply is nearly instant.
[good. asshole.]
Stiles locks his phone and rolls his eyes before throwing it absent-mindedly
down his mattress. He's just going to save his game, that he has apparently
been playing for nearly 10 hours, but something catches his eye.
Pixelated ass.
Right in front of Scott's high-chair, stands Derek's sim, and Derek's sim's
ass.
"Oh my god what."
Stiles pauses the game and doesn't bother bringing his eyebrows back down from
their new occupancy in outer space, just shifts and leans closer to the screen,
angling and scrolling in until the only thing visible on the screen is Derek's
lower back, ass, and thighs.
"Ohmyfuckinggodwhat."
 
His voiced is slurred with shock but his body starts moving, he scrambles to
grab his phone and immediately opens up Instagram. This is the best glitch to
ever happen, because of a few reasons:
1) ass
2) Derek's ass
3) DEREK'S ASS
4) Stiles it's just a video game not his actual a-
5) DEREK HALE'S FREAKING ASSSSS.
Okay so there's a lot of pining, but what 16-year-old boy doesn't get an
inappropriate crush on a 23-year-old werewolf man-child that constantly
threatens to kill him and could probably do just that with the never-ending
glares he likes to fix on him. Totally normal, come on folks it's the 21st
century. Stiles has to bite his lip to stifle a giggle as he takes several
glamour shots, all of this pixelated ass of perfection. He tags them all
similarly, with idiotic captions, such as, "chillen w the bae's ass", "damn
Derek, you know what to do with that big fat butt". As soon as the first one
goes up, he gets a comment, it's from Erica.
[ericabaes: excuse me??????]
Several comments from his friends follow suit in a matter of minutes and Stiles
has to clutch at his sides from laughing so hard.
[scottymcall213: dude wtf now i know why your late]
[laheeeyyyxx: literally never wanted to see that please don't come to Scott's
my nose wont be able to handle that shit]
[lydsgirl: finally succumbing to the palpable sexual tension that lingers in
the air every time you two are in the same room??]
[dannylovesyou: wait isn't that your cousin?? wait are you gay?? Stiles??]
And others that have him gasping for breath all the same. He half-rolls half-
falls off his bed after a good 15 minutes of Instagram notifications and
endless laughter to pull some things together to head to Scott's for the night.
Including putting on a baggy t-shirt and jeans he finds on the floor. He
occasionally pauses, glances to his laptop where Derek's ass is still cast on
display and hiccups into a giggle fit. He shakes his head smiling to himself,
hoping Derek doesn't find out and immediately murder him. Because when or if
Derek finds out, there will be attempted murder involved, and awkward
explanations on what the Sims is to a socially-constipated werewolf who learned
how to use "a Facebook" - oh, two months ago at best. Stiles finishes packing
up his overnight bags, a.k.a. pajamas and video games, and heads to the
bathroom to take a piss before leaving, no use in waiting till he gets to
Scott's. When nature calls he chooses to answer. As soon as he finishes he
hears a soft thud from his bedroom. He thinks to himself that it's probably
nothing but irregardless drops his bags by the stairs and cautiously steps to
peek into his room. Damn insatiable curiosity. Stiles slowly inches the door to
his room open.
"Hello?"
No response. He cautiously steps inside to do a quick sweep of the room, in
case it's a thief waiting for him to leave so he can steal everything, probably
including Stiles'... Asstop. He never wants to close the game again. The booty
is too beautiful. That or he's a horny teenage virgin that's getting
emotionally attached to a pixalized representation of hotter-than-life werewolf
that seems to like breaking into Stiles' room from the window and hiding in the
corner, waiting, till he can - oh, and there it is. The cold pressure of his
door is immediate against his back, and the warm pressure of two hands fisted
into his shirt are immediate against his front.
"Where the fuck did you get that?"
Stiles bats his eyelashes and attempts a dopey smile, nowhere close to Scott's
level yet, but hopefully forming a convincing face of innocence.
"Hi, Derek, what are you talking about?"
There's a string of grumbles and growls, but after a moment one of the hands
tangled in Stiles' shirt releases and dips into its owner's pocket. Immediately
Stiles comes face to face with his new best friend, the Derek ass-shot. His
gaze flickers for a moment as he realizes Derek is showing him something on
Instagram, then he notices the phone, pink, bedazzled case.
"Why the hell do you have Erica's phone and why doesn't she keep it password
locked?"
The screen blackens and Stiles looks back up to captain huffywolf, trying to
hide his amusement at the fact that ANYONE had thought it was an actual picture
of Derek's ass. Especially considering one of those 'anyone's happens to be the
actual owner of the actual ass.
"She does. I know the password. Not important."
Stiles finds himself aggressively shoved back against the door that Derek is
trying to force him to attempt osmosis through and only cringes for a second
when his head slams into the wood. It's not anything Derek hasn't done before.
"Where did it come from? How exactly did you get it?"
Stiles couldn't help himself. He barks out a quick laugh, it's half nerves and
half jesus-christ-im-pining-after-an-absolute-idiot. Derek's eyes narrow and
Stiles catches a glint of red forming in his irises. Instinctively Stiles
reaches out to pat the sourwolf's back but thankfully stops himself in time.
"Alright. Alright big guy you can let me down and I'll show you. You know
that's not actually your ass right? Why would I have an actual photograph of
your ass just laying around for my own recreational use. I'm not some kind of
creeper that breaks into people's bedrooms by the window like this other guy I
know."
He shoots Derek a look and waits to be released before continuing his rambling
canter. Eventually Derek complies, with a growl though, of course.
"Right this way, front seat ticket to the show. Sadly there is no show and
you're probably going to feel like an idiot for coming all the way down here
just to shove me and against a wall and growl a little."
Stiles grabs his laptop from the front of the bed and shoves it toward a very
suspicious Derek, sitting down on before mentioned bed.
"Here you go. See. It's a game."
Derek grumbles and squints at the screen like an angry old man trying to read
the daily newspaper. After a moment he looks up to Stiles' face. Not one bit
less intense than when he came in.
"This doesn't look like a game."
Stiles sighs and makes grabby hands towards the laptop. Derek shoves it back to
him and Stiles turns so Derek can watch the screen. He immediately feels puffs
of hot breath against his neck and heats up a little.
Down dick.
Bad boy.
This is not the time for that.
Stiles blushes and continues on his mission to prove to Derek that it's a game.
He resumes it and scrolls out to give Derek a better view of his Sim feeding
baby Scott. Stiles glances back over his shoulder to see captain scowl glaring
at the screen with a, you guessed it, scowl.
"I uh," he gestures toward the screen, "it's uhm, a life simulation game?
You're feeding your son... Scott."
Derek's eyes flick over to Stiles for a second before going back to the screen,
now filled more with confusion than anger.
"Why would anyone want to play this? Why not just go out and do these things."
Stiles groans and deflates a bit, still watching Derek's face. How can he not
get that?
"I don't know if you knows this but uh," he leans closer to Derek, "I'm a
teenage boy, with absolutely no time to have a child, so I can't exactly just
"go out and do it" y'know? Plus they'd never let me adopt, I'm only 16, and I
haven't found another human that's interested in holding my hand let alone
doing the dirty and maybe giving me all the children, and even then the
children thing would only work if it was a girl, because despite a few things
that I've read - don't ask - male pregnancy isn't a thing, that can happen,
so."
Derek's eyebrows raise a little as he watches Stiles speak before he once again
turns to the game, still trying to figure out the appeal to it, though once
he's looking at the game his eyebrows don't just raise a little, they
borderline fly off of his face.
"Stiles?"
"What?"
"Screen."
Stiles puts on a bitch face and turns back to the screen. When he sees it he
pales, and his heart forgets to have a rhythm and skips multiple beats,
speeding and slowing with dull thuds. His face immediately drops.
"Stiles?"
All Stiles can manage is a delayed and weak, "yeah?"
"Derek Hale thinks Stiles Stilinski is extremely irresistible."
Stiles nods slowly.
"Husbands."
Stiles nods again.
"Speak, Stiles."
"Uhhhhhhhmmm..."
The laptop with the image of Sim Derek and Sim Stiles making-out and the gentle
moaning sounds to match is slowly picked out of Stiles lap and placed on his
desk. Stiles remains frozen in absolute horror while Derek continues in
absolute silence. Picking up Stiles' phone from the bed, then a few books and
pieces of paper that he had scattered on it and finally a pen.
Derek is preparing a deathbed for Stiles, he's sure of it.
Or maybe not, suddenly Stiles finds himself on his back, hands pinned above his
head and an immense pressure and heat between his legs.
Oh hi dick is that you again?
Stiles nervously flicks his eyes away from the leg between his own and up
toward the growling he hears above him. Derek is staring down, body arched over
him, eyes with an underlying tint of red and eyebrows in the position that says
"i want answers".
Stiles is aroused. Very aroused. His dick is not just twitching hello, it
begins to harden between his legs. If the way his nostrils flare is any
indication, Derek has received Stiles' dick's greeting.
"Stiles."
Stiles mind immediately goes into overdrive. 'Please don't kill me. I'm going
to jizz in my pants. My throat doesn't taste good I promise. Take me, right
here, right now. Derek, no. Derek, yes.' Stiles tries to make at least one
thought come out.
"Hnnyuuh, nmmpf."
He leaves his lips parted slightly after the mixture of sounds escapes his
mouth, tongue darting out over his lower-lip quickly in nervousness. Derek's
increasingly red eyes catch the movement and linger on his mouth before
snapping back up. Derek shifts above him and his leg presses against Stiles'
hardening issue. Stiles eyes squeeze shut and his mouth drops wide-open in a
not-so-silent gasp as he squirms under Derek, fingers twitching above his head
hoping to grip something. Derek's growling becomes lower and a little more
predatory.
"Stiles. Why, on that game, are we married?"
Keeping his eyes shut Stiles figures the only way he can make it out of this
alive is with the truth. He takes in a deep breath and braces himself.
"Becauseimaybesortofhaveahugecrushthingonyouandhowcouldyounotnoticethisiprettymuchgetabonereverytimeyouwalkintotheroomderekhaleyouareanidiotpleasedontkillme."
Stiles waits to start bleeding out on his mattress, breathing heavily from the
exertion it took to say all of that. After a more than few moments of silence
he opens his eyes to look up with caution. Very aware of the fact that his face
and neck are blotchy red with furious blushing, and probably his entire body as
well. Above him is Derek, and surprisingly enough he doesn't look absolutely
furious, he just looks... Pained? Stiles looks away again.
"Uh... I'm... Sorry I didn't tell you earlier I just..." He shifts awkwardly
because he never quite got used to staying still for more than a minute, unless
he was asleep. And of course, he ends up practically grinding his dick against
Derek's thigh, causing him to arch his back off the bed and moan quietly. His
head falls to the side and he lets out a few shuddering breaths before
attempting to continue. "...didn' wan' it tah be awk-"
"I thought that was because of Erica."
"Wha?"
Stiles looks back toward Derek, head rolling to face him.
"The uh... scent of arousal."
Stiles knits his eyebrows together and shoots Derek a confused look. Whom
certainly looks a bit more... wolf-y than the last time Stiles looked at him.
Derek thinks Erica is the one getting Stiles all hot and bothered? But...
Wait...
"What about when it's just you in my room?"
Derek makes another pained face. He is also blushing now.
"You... You're 16, your room basically always smells like you jacked off all
over it and humped the walls... actually that wouldn't surprise me."
He quirks up one eyebrow and Stiles huffs out a laugh.
"Is that why you're here all the time instead of sending a beta minion to do
your work? Don't want the other wolves to take a big whiff of the Stiles-only
masturbathon? Also was that a joke?"
Derek's eyes narrow, fully red now.
"...yes."
"To what?"
"What you said."
"Which part?"
"All of it."
Oh. Now Stiles is sure his entire body is blushing. An involuntary moan slips
through lips as he thinks about Derek possessively caging him in and taking
him. Stiles begins rocking his hips and grinding down against Derek's leg with
absolute purpose, arching between tiny gasps.
"Stiles."
Derek's voice sounds strained, and Stiles is very happy about that. He licks
his lips and tilts his head back to bare his neck. That was a good thing to do
right? I mean, it's in a lot of the gay werewolf porn books he just happens to
read. They're wrong about a lot of things though, like the whole male pregnancy
thing... Yeah that isn't ever going to be a thing.
"What are you..."
Derek's voice comes out completely strangled this time, so obviously he has
done something right. Stiles looks at Derek through his lashes, rocking his
hips slowly. The Derek before him is about one second away from fully wolfing
out, and shaking with the forced control of not doing exactly that.
"I'm trying to convince you to have sex wifhhhmmrmm-"
Stiles eyes shoot open at the pressure of lips against his, attempting a sloppy
kiss that consists of mostly teeth and the pressure of an erection against his
hip.
An erection.
Derek's erection.
Derek's Derection.
Stiles scrambles to move with the kiss when he realizes he's laying limply in
shock. His tongue darts out to probe Derek's mouth. Even if he doesn't have a
whole lot of experience he has a good idea of what to do from his... Readings.
As soon as Stiles begins to find a place working against Derek's lips, Derek
pulls off, only an inch at first, stopping to study Stiles flushed face, but
then all the way, breaking the last piece of their kiss which happened to be a
thin strand of saliva connecting their lower lips. Derek shifts his hips off of
Stiles causing him to buck into the air with a quiet whimper at the loss. One
side of Derek's lips quirk in his signature not-a-smile-but-he-did-his-best
before the hand not pinning Stiles' wrists to the bed moves lower between them,
roughly gripping the back of the teen's thigh.
"This okay?"
Stiles nods dumbly. Abortive little thrusts of his hips continuing. His body is
screaming to be touched and he is absolutely sure he is going to come in his
pants in a few more seconds.
"Do whatever you want."
Derek rumbles above him and acts with the new permission. He pushes one leg up
and to the side. With the new space he moves so that he's kneeling between
Stiles' thighs, a hungry look etched into his face. He leans back down to
Stiles, the hand moved from the leg to hold down the teen's hips. Derek mouths
at the tendon in Stiles' neck following the moles down to his collarbone with
smalls nips before dragging his lips back up, tracing along his throat and
finishing with a soft kiss to the corner of Stiles' mouth.
"Don't say that again. I really just want to rip your clothes off and just
pound my cock right into you. Now. You aren't ready for that."
And that's it. Stiles arches his back up, pressing into Derek, straining his
wrists against the werewolf's grip and comes in his pants. A loud moan is
ripped from his throat accompanied by a course of small ones as Derek nuzzles
into his neck, sucking a collection of small hickeys up the side. Stiles is
absolutely sure he's covered in stubble-burn. After a minute his breathing
slows and his mind gains back enough functionality to let him speak.
"Sorry I... That was lame."
Stiles grimaces in shame but Derek makes no move to stop licking and biting at
his neck.
"Mm. You're a teenager it'll up again soon."
A small strangled noise tries to escape Stiles throat.
"Well... You're the one that just humped a teenager."
"Mhm."
"Annnnnd I came in my pants."
"I know. I was there."
"It's getting pretty sticky."
"Yeah?"
"Wanna help me get out these sticky pants, Der?"
Derek huffs against his neck, but Stiles can tell he's affecting the older man.
He's still a little blissed out, but as Derek said, he's a teenager, it'll be
up again soon, probably more than soon with the current... situation. Derek
moves up, releasing Stiles wrists and sitting back on his heels, splayed knees
forcing Stiles legs to spread open wider. Stiles chances a glance down. His
eyes catch on the very large erection bulge Derek is donning. Now free, his
arms flail a little bit and he squeaks.
"I can uhm... I can... I have a mouth? If you want?"
Derek grunts and shakes his head. He shifts back over Stiles caging him in with
his arms, his mission to remove Stiles' stick pants forgotten. Derek kisses him
forcefully, fucking Stiles' mouth with his tongue and sucking on his bottom lip
roughly before biting it and pulling back off. Stiles whines and attempts to
make a pouting face.
"Why do you keep doing that?"
Derek apparently deems this unworthy of an answer.
"Keep your legs spread. Don't move. I'll be back."
Derek pushes off the bed and leaves Stiles. The teen sighs and peels his shirt
off his body, feeling obnoxiously sticky. He hooks his thumbs into his jeans
and boxers and shimmies out of them at the same time, toeing off his socks
directly after. Stiles reopens his legs and brushes his fingers against his
barely-hard dick. He immediately twitches in sensitivity but tries to work
himself back to fully hard. Alone with his thoughts his minds starts to go over
what just happened. He just humped Derek Hale. He just came in his pants
underneath Derek Hale. He just offered to suck off Derek Hale. He's never even
done that before. What would that taste like? His eyes go down to his hardening
cock. There's still a bit of cum smeared on it. Wouldn't it be kind of the
same...? Stiles blushes and wipes it onto his middle and index finger then
brings them up to his mouth. His licks at them cautiously. Salty... But not...
Horrible? He sucks the tips of his fingers into his mouth. Still salty, and
still easy, but judging by the bulge Stiles just witnessed he'd have to take a
lot more length than what the tips of his fingers are. His dick gives an
interested twitch and Stiles eyes flutter shut. Imagining Derek's cock his
sinks his mouth down his fingers to the base. His other hand drifts down to his
now fully hard cock and strokes up it once before stopping himself. He doesn't
want to come again before Derek can get back from whatever-the-fuck. Hopefully
soon. He rests his hand on his stomach, fingertips brushing against the dark
curls above his cock for a minute but his hand gets restless and he puts it
back between his legs. Stiles brushes his knuckles against his balls before
tilting his hips and spreading his legs open significantly more. He presses the
pad of his index finger to his hole, circling it tentatively before pressing
in. He can't come off of just this and it gives his fingers something to do. It
slides in without too much of a fight due to his cum lubricating the way. He
clenches around his finger when it twitches, then begins curling the finger and
shallowly working it in and out of himself. He suddenly becomes very thankful
for the fingers in his mouth as he stifles a desperate moan and whispers
Derek's name around them. Distracted by his own work he doesn't hear the
pounding of footsteps up the stairs and only looks up when his door slams back
open. A very flustered Derek and a pair of very red eyes gleam back at him.
Stiles drops his fingers from his mouth, but leaves it open, moving the hand
down to his nipple with a trail of his saliva across his chest. He bucks his
hips to fuck himself on his finger and draws up one of his knees further,
maintaining eye-contact with a certain werewolf that isn't moving. Why isn't he
moving? He needs to be moving.
"Dereeeek."
That seems to spur life back into Derek and he crosses the room in two strides
before throwing himself back over Stiles and catching his lips in a needy kiss.
"I leave for not even 5 minutes and you already... Jesus Stiles... so much
better than any fantasy."
Fantasy? Derek has fantasized about this? This new knowledge immediately turns
Stiles on just that much more.
Stiles wraps his legs around Derek and digs his heels into his lower back,
dragging them down in an attempt to catch the waistband of Derek's pants and
force them off of him. Derek grabs Stiles hand and yanks it away from his ass
pressing the tip of his own finger toward the pucker that's now clenching
around air. As soon as it presses in Stiles feels a small pinch of pain from
the dry intrusion and tenses underneath Derek. The werewolf growls against
Stiles lips and removes his fingers, lifting his hand to Stiles mouth, an
expectant gaze settling on his face. The teen grabs onto Derek's wrist with one
hand, the other settling low on his muscular forearm.
"Where'd you go off to?"
Stiles asks and doesn't wait for an answer before he licks up the length of
Derek's middle and index fingers, stopping only to pulse his tongue across the
pads of both.
"Mm. Yeah?"
Stiles smirks and leans away from the fingers of the werewolf whose brain he's
pretty sure just turned into jelly.
"That's not an answer."
"Mmm."
"Derek."
"Hmmm?"
"Where'd you go off to?"
"There's uh..."
Derek drifts away from talking and focuses his still red eyes onto Stiles lips.
"C'mon Der."
"Oh I... Lube. I got it from my car."
"Why do you have that in your car?"
"In case."
"Of what?"
"Emergencies and stuff."
"In case you need to have car sex?"
Derek growls and drops the packets of lube from his pocket next to Stiles'
pillow.
"No, in case of sex pollen."
"That exists?"
"Yes."
"What if I had lube in my room?"
"You don't, I sniffed for it, and lotion isn't enough."
Fair point. Stiles eyes flicker over the pile of lube packets.
"Hm, did you grab condoms too?"
"No, you have some in your nightstand. I can smell the latex, unless you've
started stashing gloves."
Stiles furrows his brow and shifts over to it. He cranes his neck and sorts
through the drawer, a faded box catches his eye. He grabs it and brings it up
to his face, looking for an expiration date, he didn't even know these were in
there, let alone how long they had been in there. And - yep - expired, over a
year ago. Of course Stiles would get Derek Wetdream Hale in his bed and not
have condoms. He groans and throws the box back in.
"So, those are expired..."
Stiles bites his lip nervously, fidgeting beneath Derek and suddenly feeling
self-conscious. Derek is older, more experienced and definitely more prepared
for this. Stiles is a virgin, that's so alone he didn't even bother to have
condoms.
"I... Werewolves can't get diseases..."
Stiles tenses underneath the older man.
"Hey, hey, it's okay we don't have to, there are other ways to get off. Nothing
you don't want."
Derek presses a light kiss to where Stiles - now hammering - heart is. A quiet
noise comes from the back of the teen's throat.
"No that's... Not... It's..."
Derek is carefully pressing kisses across Stiles chest, the thumb attached to
the wrist Stiles is hanging onto gently brushing along his cheekbone and the
other hand holds his hip.
"It's... just really fucking hot and i'm trying to keep myself from coming
prematurely again why the fuck are you wearing clothes please get out of them
like 20 minutes ago."
Derek jerks up and exhales noisily while basically tearing off his shirt. He
throws it against a wall and makes it down to his pants, quickly unbuttoning
and unzipping them before shoving them down his thighs and kicking them off
along with a pair of sinfully tight gray boxers. Derek's untouched erection
springs out from a thatch of dark hair and slaps against his stomach, flushed
red at the tip with pre-cum dribbling out slowly. Stiles absentmindedly moans
and licks his lips searching over Derek's now exposed body.
"Hurry up I need you to fuck me through this mattress before I die of old age."
Derek stills above him and closes his eyes, breathing in a few times deeply,
both of his hands now gripping Stiles hips with brutal force. Stiles knows he's
going to have fingerprint-shaped bruises there and for some reason that turns
him on even more.
"Stiles. I told you not to talk like that."
"I kinda always say whats on my mind in case you haven't noticed, I can't help
it. And that's what's there, you fucking me, so if you wouldn't mind..."
"I have to prep you first."
Stiles whines and grabs a packet of lube, slapping it against Derek's chest.
Derek's eyes, looking feral and red, open and he quirks a questioning brow.
"The faster you get on with it the faster we get to the fucking."
Derek nods and grabs the packet tearing the foil open with his teeth before
squeezing some onto his fingers. He spreads it evenly with his thumb and
finally his hand is back between Stiles' legs. The first finger pushes in
slowly but is met with no resistance. Derek sinks in down to his knuckle and
makes a satisfied rumbling sound before curling the finger inside Stiles.
Stiles gasps and squeezes Derek's sides with his legs, clenching around the
finger with a rapid pulsing. It feels so good to finally have something in him
again. Even if it wasn't exactly, the thing he really wanted. A second
fingertip grazes across his rim and massages at the skin surrounding it.
"Fuck, Derek, yes, more."
Derek grunts and complies, pushing in with a second finger. Stiles would be
lying if he said it felt amazing, it burned and it hurt, but it wasn't anything
he couldn't take. He had enough late night solo fun-times involving lotion and
his fingers to know this much. He moans and bites down into his lower lip
circling his hips against Derek's slowed fingers. They pulse in and out slowly
but eventually pick up speed, curling and scissoring with no particular rhythm.
The pain dulls and quickly disappears stemming completely into pleasure and
from pleasure into an aching need.
"More, Derek."
Stiles lifts his arms above his head and spreads his legs open a little wider
for effect. Derek's fingers scissor open and another slips in between them. A
moan simultaneously escapes from both their throats. Stiles is pleased to find
the third finger didn't bring any pain and rocks down with his hips to meet the
pushing of Derek's fingers. All three fingers curl inside of him, hitting his
prostate, and he arches his back off the bed, casting his head back and gasping
with pleasure. Derek begins a rhythm of curling and uncurling, abusing his new-
found knowledge of the spot that has Stiles seeing stars and leaking pre-cum.
Stiles shifts his hips back until he removes himself from Derek's fingers
before he brings both hands shakily up to Derek shoulders and flashes a sloppy
smile.
"I'm ready."
Derek looks down at him with the sweltering intensity of the sun in summer.
"Stiles, are you sure? You're a virgin."
Stiles scowls.
"I am absolutely not a virgin after that."
"That's beside the point..."
"Yes, Derek, I'm sure."
"But it might hur-"
Tired of hearing Derek make excuses, Stiles abruptly cuts him off by yanking
him down and kissing him. He lets Derek lean back up and looks up at him with
his best puppy eyes.
"Yeah yeah, I've had... Experiences... by myself... Not quite as big as your
cock, but... I'm pretty sure I can take it... Just, uh... Go slow?"
Derek nods and leans down for another soft peck to the teen's lips, kneeling
back and emptying the packet of lube onto his own cock, stroking it slowly
while staring down at Stiles with lidded eyes. Stiles squeaks and does his best
to tilt his hips up to Derek, digging his teeth hard enough into his lip that
he tastes blood. Derek slips the hand not stroking his cock under Stiles and
onto his lower back, lifting and supporting Stiles' weight until he has him
into a position with the teen's ass fully bared up to the older man. Derek
cautiously licks his lips and lines the tip of his cock to Stiles' entrance,
pressing until it gives and the head of it slips in. Stiles cries out noisily,
digging his fingers into Derek's shoulder. The werewolf's other hand releases
his own cock and drops to the bed next to Stiles' chest to support his weight
as he curls over the teen, pressing in slowly. After moments of stifled
whimpers and drawn out moans, Derek's balls press against Stiles ass. He stills
before pulling out just an inch and sinking back in slowly. Stiles feels like
he might just die. Right there, with Derek above him. Derek repeats the motion
a few more times, each one earning a throaty moan from Stiles. The teen's legs
tighten around Derek's back and he arches his body to reach Derek's lips,
initiating a long kiss that is a small amount of lips actually touching and a
large amount of softly panting against each other's mouths. Stiles begins to
rock his hips alongside Derek's torturously slow rhythm which draws out a
breathy moan from the werewolf and a whimper from the boy.
"Derek, you can... Harder... Fuck please, harder."
Derek growls and presses down to Stiles, their bodies flush against each other
and now giving friction to Stiles' dick before he sharply pulls out and pistons
his cock in, continuously repeating the action at a pace Stiles could only
accredit to the other man's supernatural disposition. Stiles grips Derek's
shoulders as a slew of loud and desperate moans flow out of him, pairing with
Derek's grunts of pleasure. Even though he already came once Stiles feels his
orgasm approaching fast, tightening in his balls and curling in his gut. He
tries to keep it off for as long as he can, but the friction of Derek's abs
pairing with his unrelenting thrusts brushing Stiles' prostate each time, he
ends up lasting only a few minutes before his cock twitches and erupts between
them.
"Fuck, Derek, fuck, FUCK."
Stiles leaves his head thrown back and mouth agape, continuing to moan
profanities as his over-sensitive ass flutters around Derek, who is now
grinding into him forcefully. He has a fleeting feeling of embarrassment for
coming again so soon but then Derek's hips stutter and the muscles pressed
against Stiles tighten abruptly before he feels the older man's own orgasm
release inside him. The thought of Derek's cum being inside him makes Stiles
moan lowly, but he's too spent to even attempt getting it up again. Derek's
lips press into Stiles neck and he breathes heavily, riding out his orgasm.
"Stiles I... Fuck..."
The teen lifts his numb-feeling hands to cup both Derek's cheeks and softly
kisses his nose.
"I liked that, a lot."
Derek nods in agreement, a small smile on his lips before he collapses to the
side of Stiles, grabbing the boys hips and man-handing him to lay on his chest,
tucking Stiles head under his chin and softly stroking his lower back. Stiles
lays still for a moment before he begins squirming, because, holy shit. That
just happened. He, Stiles Stilinski, is no longer a virgin. Derek Hale just
fucked him. In his bed. Derek Hale.
Derek's voice ended up pulling him out of his whirlwind of thoughts.
"What is it Stiles? Can you not just enjoy the afterglow?"
"I'm not a virgin."
Derek sighs, loudly, but his voice definitely has a teasing lilt to it.
"No, you aren't."
"You just fucked me."
"Yes, I did."
"Are we like, boyfriends now?"
Suddenly Derek tenses and tilts Stiles chin up. The teen finds himself face to
face with a very serious werewolf, who for some reason, also looks a bit
frightened.
"Do... do you want to be?"
Stiles rolls his eyes and flops back down onto Derek's chest.
"Of course, dumbass."
Derek relaxes underneath him noticeably, and they share another moment of
silence, before Stiles interrupts it again.
"So..."
Derek releases the most put-upon sigh Stiles has ever heard.
"Really Stiles?"
"What?"
"You really can't just enjoy afterglow, can you?"
"Fuck you Derek i'm enjoying this but I also really wanna say something."
"When do you not?"
"I could leave. Right now. I could go to Scott's and ignore you forever."
Derek growls quietly and tightens his hold on Stiles' back.
"Fine. What is it?"
"Would you say... Derek Hale finds Stiles Stilinski extremely irresistible?"
Derek sighs, loudly, and uses his weight to flop the teen over and lay on top
of him. Stiles squawks and flails madly.
"Hey, what are you doing, I was super comfortable!"
"I'm hoping this way I'll suffocate you and you'll shut up."
"Whatever, you know you love all this."
They both still, and Stiles immediately regrets his choice of words, but after
only a small moment Derek relaxes and continues nuzzling against Stiles.
"Yeah, I think I do."
---
Stiles never goes to Scott's.
---
And if another picture of Derek's ass ends up on Instagram, his real ass this
time, he doesn't need to know.
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