Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/473737.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Teen_Wolf_(TV)
  Relationship:
      Derek_Hale/Stiles_Stilinski
  Character:
      Derek_Hale, Stiles_Stilinski
  Additional Tags:
      Demonic_Possession, Top!Stiles, Demon!Stiles, bottom!Derek, Biting,
      Bruises, mostly_just_an_excuse_to_write_porn
  Stats:
      Published: 2012-07-31 Words: 1267
****** Host ******
by BitchFaceSam
Summary
     Derek notices the instant Stiles changes.
Notes
See the end of the work for notes
[Derek notices the instant Stiles changes. 
It’s not just his scent, even though that changes drastically, too.
It’s more, it’s the way Stiles smiles, going from his normal,
awkward fucking perfect self to suddenly smirking, lips curling in something
more feral than Derek’s wolf, emitting this power that makes Derek  want
to go belly up, to cower and shake in fear of the unknown beast he can feel
lurking behind Stiles eyes.
The power he feels from his wolf, which is almost uncontrollable since
he’s become Alpha, is shaking in comparison to whatever’s happened.
Derek feels pity, pity for the Stiles that was, that innocent, human boy
who’s suddenly just gone. Enough that he decides to try and find out
what’s happened. He knows he shouldn’t, shouldn’t involve
himself when he’s got his pack to sort out and more importantly,
shouldn’t get involved in anything because he most definitely
hadn’t forgotten Kate and what happened the last time he’d gotten
involved in things he shouldn’t have.
He shows up at Stiles’s house, anyway.
Stiles is laying on his bed, which is unusual because Stiles is Stiles and
he’s always doing something. Moving, talking, reading. Talking. Seeing
him still is odd and Derek falters at the window, hands hesitating over the
wooden trim.
“Come on in,” Stiles calls and the way it rolls over him makes
Derek shudder.
Stiles is sitting when Derek crawls through the window.
Stiles motions for him to sit down and the idea of putting Stiles instantly in
control of the situation by obeying is enough to make him hesitate, but when he
notices Stiles eyes have turned a molten, shining black, he heels and does as
told, sitting and turning to Stiles.
“What,” Derek pauses, voice dropping as he tries his best to curb
his snarl, “have you done to him. What are you?”
Stiles, no, the thing, sighs dramatically and leans against the wall, lifting
Stile’s hand to give a little flourish. “I’m actually
surprised you caught on. Your puppies weren’t so observant.”
“I also noticed you failed to answer my question. Either of them.”
Derek’s practicing his breathing exercises. This thing radiates energy.
He wants to kneel, wants to lick at this creature with this strength oozing
from it, wants to submit out of awe and fear.
“I’m a demon.” And there it is, that telling smirk, that quip
of the lips that has Derek more terrified  of than anything he’s ever
been in his life because it’s screaming of the confidence that it could
lean over and tear out Derek’s intestines with its bare hands.
Derek’s heard things. He’s never seen a demon, but he knows there
are hunters after them just as much as there are hunters for wolves. He pities
it for a moment, but then the fear settles in again and he tenses.
“Why are you in Stiles?” Derek finally asks.
“He was available.” The thing shrugs. “Wrong place, wrong
time, all that jazz. Though he’s quite comfy. Not much in the looks
department, not like you,” it leers suggestively, “but he suffices.
He’s a smart one, that’s a nice bonus.”
He smells dark, like Stiles body, like cinnamon and Old Spice and Adderall, but
also like night and fire and Derek doesn’t resist when the thing leans
forward and hooks a finger under Derek’s jaw and turns his face to the
side, running his eyes along the line of his jaw. 
“I’ve actually never seen a werewolf before,” the thing
confesses, Stiles’s eyes dropping as it surveys Derek approvingly.
“This kid, he’s still here you know. Freaking out actually. He
seems to be terribly afraid yet terribly attached to you.”
Derek says nothing, but doesn’t fight back, either, when the thing is
leaning forward and shoving Stiles’s lips against his, hands going for
his wrists as Stile’s is moving him over, climbing on top of him, biting
and tearing at Derek’s lips. His wolf is howling at how strong the thing
is, at the way it can pin Derek’s hands above his head and he literally
cannot move, even after he lets the shift fade in and out. The domination is
drunkening. 
Derek lets himself be flipped onto his stomach an he’s so close to
whimpering like a fucking puppy that he bites onto his bottom lip, the last of
his pride bleeding out as his teeth sink into his flesh. He can feel his cock
dripping, can feel it achingly hard against the zipper of his jeans.
It, Stiles, is grinding against him, hands darting around to work on removing
Derek’s pants even as his teeth start biting into Derek’s shoulder
through his shirt. Derek raises his hips in response to the bites, presses
backwards with panty gasps.
Derek needs, fucking needs this thing to touch him. Needs to be shown his
place. Needs to give up to something so obviously stronger than him that there
is no fighting it because instinct is self preservation and he knows if he
challenged this demon that he would be dead.
The idea sends him over the edge and he’s coming in his pants, dick
pulsating hotly and jizz spreading along the skin of his upper thighs.
He’s almost ashamed when his jeans are off and the trail of sticky come
runs from his cock to the fabric, but Stiles looks kind of pleased so Derek
doesn’t even care.
“This kid is almost ready to lose it in here. Man, oh man, did he want to
touch you.”
Derek whines then, an animalistic, desperate whine and the demon, it’s
got to feel something at that because it’s pulling down Stiles’s
pants and spitting on his hands and running those fingers along Derek, pauses
for a moment to push against his ass, spreading the flesh, spitting some more
and slicking him up, and then he lines up his cock and pushes in. It’s
tight and Derek’s ass burns but more importantly he’s pushing back
that way, likes the way the pain keeps him grounded, keeps him stable.
Stiles’s hands are rough on his hips, now, squeezing and bruising and
he’s moving quicker than Derek knows a human can move. He can feel his
nails lengthen  feel his teeth grow as shifts slightly, the feeling of
dominance so overwhelming. 
Derek can feel when Stiles comes, feels the jizz filling him, and, although he
didn’t come twice, he still feels boneless and exhausted and waits for
the thing to get up and get off him. The feeling, whatever had come over him,
seemed to be dulled for the moment. Not so much like a needy heat or pack power
play but just an awkward after sex moment.
“Don’t worry,” it sighs and stands, “I’m not
planning on staying long. I wanna find a body more my style. But, that was
pretty fun. Tell you what. You give me some time to move on, I won’t kill
you. Does that sound like a sweet deal or what? I’ll even leave the kid
alive so you two can do that again. I promise you, he’s more than
willing. Now he’s embarrassed, cute. I’m starting to like him.
He’s quite the narrator up here.”
Derek pauses. He’s not sure how to kill the thing and he’s not sure
how to get it out, so trusting him for the day and hoping the thing sticks to
its word is his best bet. “You have twenty-four hours, then I want you
out of him.”
The thing beams. “Trust me, you won’t regret it. Although, I do
request that that happens again sometime in my twenty-four hours.”]
Derek notices the instant Stiles changes. 
It’s not just his scent, even though that changes drastically, too. It’s more,
it’s the way Stiles smiles, going from his normal, awkward fucking perfect self
to suddenly smirking, lips curling in something more feral than Derek’s wolf,
emitting this power that makes Derek  want to go belly up, to cower and shake
in fear of the unknown beast he can feel lurking behind Stiles eyes.
The power he feels from his wolf, which is almost uncontrollable since he’s
become Alpha, is shaking in comparison to whatever’s happened. Derek feels
pity, pity for the Stiles that was, that innocent, human boy who’s suddenly
just gone. Enough that he decides to try and find out what’s happened. He knows
he shouldn’t, shouldn’t involve himself when he’s got his pack to sort out and
more importantly, shouldn’t get involved in anything because he most definitely
hadn’t forgotten Kate and what happened the last time he’d gotten involved in
things he shouldn’t have.
He shows up at Stiles’s house, anyway.
Stiles is laying on his bed, which is unusual because Stiles is Stiles and he’s
always doing something. Moving, talking, reading. Talking. Seeing him still is
odd and Derek falters at the window, hands hesitating over the wooden trim.
“Come on in,” Stiles calls and the way it rolls over him makes Derek shudder.
Stiles is sitting when Derek crawls through the window.
Stiles motions for him to sit down and the idea of putting Stiles instantly in
control of the situation by obeying is enough to make him hesitate, but when he
notices Stiles eyes have turned a molten, shining black, he heels and does as
told, sitting and turning to Stiles.
“What,” Derek pauses, voice dropping as he tries his best to curb his snarl,
“have you done to him. What are you?”
Stiles, no, the thing, sighs dramatically and leans against the wall, lifting
Stile’s hand to give a little flourish. “I’m actually surprised you caught on.
Your puppies weren’t so observant.”
“I also noticed you failed to answer my question. Either of them.” Derek’s
practicing his breathing exercises. This thing radiates energy. He wants to
kneel, wants to lick at this creature with this strength oozing from it, wants
to submit out of awe and fear.
“I’m a demon.” And there it is, that telling smirk, that quip of the lips that
has Derek more terrified  of than anything he’s ever been in his life because
it’s screaming of the confidence that it could lean over and tear out Derek’s
intestines with its bare hands.
Derek’s heard things. He’s never seen a demon, but he knows there are hunters
after them just as much as there are hunters for wolves. He pities it for a
moment, but then the fear settles in again and he tenses.
“Why are you in Stiles?” Derek finally asks.
“He was available.” The thing shrugs. “Wrong place, wrong time, all that jazz.
Though he’s quite comfy. Not much in the looks department, not like you,” it
leers suggestively, “but he suffices. He’s a smart one, that’s a nice bonus.”
He smells dark, like Stiles body, like cinnamon and Old Spice and Adderall, but
also like night and fire and Derek doesn’t resist when the thing leans forward
and hooks a finger under Derek’s jaw and turns his face to the side, running
his eyes along the line of his jaw. 
“I’ve actually never seen a werewolf before,” the thing confesses, Stiles’s
eyes dropping as it surveys Derek approvingly. “This kid, he’s still here you
know. Freaking out actually. He seems to be terribly afraid yet terribly
attached to you.”
Derek says nothing, but doesn’t fight back, either, when the thing is leaning
forward and shoving Stiles’s lips against his, hands going for his wrists as
Stile’s is moving him over, climbing on top of him, biting and tearing at
Derek’s lips. His wolf is howling at how strong the thing is, at the way it can
pin Derek’s hands above his head and he literally cannot move, even after he
lets the shift fade in and out. The domination is drunkening. 
Derek lets himself be flipped onto his stomach an he’s so close to whimpering
like a fucking puppy that he bites onto his bottom lip, the last of his pride
bleeding out as his teeth sink into his flesh. He can feel his cock dripping,
can feel it achingly hard against the zipper of his jeans.
It, Stiles, is grinding against him, hands darting around to work on removing
Derek’s pants even as his teeth start biting into Derek’s shoulder through his
shirt. Derek raises his hips in response to the bites, presses backwards with
panty gasps.
Derek needs, fucking needs this thing to touch him. Needs to be shown his
place. Needs to give up to something so obviously stronger than him that there
is no fighting it because instinct is self preservation and he knows if he
challenged this demon that he would be dead.
The idea sends him over the edge and he’s coming in his pants, dick pulsating
hotly and jizz spreading along the skin of his upper thighs.
He’s almost ashamed when his jeans are off and the trail of sticky come runs
from his cock to the fabric, but Stiles looks kind of pleased so Derek doesn’t
even care.
“This kid is almost ready to lose it in here. Man, oh man, did he want to touch
you.”
Derek whines then, an animalistic, desperate whine and the demon, it’s got to
feel something at that because it’s pulling down Stiles’s pants and spitting on
his hands and running those fingers along Derek, pauses for a moment to push
against his ass, spreading the flesh, spitting some more and slicking him up,
and then he lines up his cock and pushes in. It’s tight and Derek’s ass burns
but more importantly he’s pushing back that way, likes the way the pain keeps
him grounded, keeps him stable.
Stiles’s hands are rough on his hips, now, squeezing and bruising and he’s
moving quicker than Derek knows a human can move. He can feel his
nails lengthen  feel his teeth grow as shifts slightly, the feeling of
dominance so overwhelming. 
Derek can feel when Stiles comes, feels the jizz filling him, and, although he
didn’t come twice, he still feels boneless and exhausted and waits for the
thing to get up and get off him. The feeling, whatever had come over him,
seemed to be dulled for the moment. Not so much like a needy heat or pack power
play but just an awkward after sex moment.
“Don’t worry,” it sighs and stands, “I’m not planning on staying long. I wanna
find a body more my style. But, that was pretty fun. Tell you what. You give me
some time to move on, I won’t kill you. Does that sound like a sweet deal or
what? I’ll even leave the kid alive so you two can do that again. I promise
you, he’s more than willing. Now he’s embarrassed, cute. I’m starting to like
him. He’s quite the narrator up here.”
Derek pauses. He’s not sure how to kill the thing and he’s not sure how to get
it out, so trusting him for the day and hoping the thing sticks to its word is
his best bet. “You have twenty-four hours, then I want you out of him.”
The thing beams. “Trust me, you won’t regret it. Although, I do request that
that happens again sometime in my twenty-four hours.”
End Notes
     Thinking about doing another in this verse. It's tempting. Posted on
     AO3 from my tumblr due to request.
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