Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/1032948.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Teen_Wolf_(TV)
  Relationship:
      Derek_Hale/Stiles_Stilinski, Stiles_Stilinski/Stuart_Stilinski, Peter
      Hale/Stiles_Stilinski/Stuart_Stilinski, Peter_Hale/Stiles_Stilinski/
      Stuart_Stilinski/Derek_Hale
  Character:
      Derek_Hale, Stiles_Stilinski, Peter_Hale, Stuart_Stilinski
  Additional Tags:
      Stilinski_Twins, Incest, Dubious_Consent, Rape/Non-con_Elements, Face
      Sitting, Rimming, Anal_Sex, Barebacking
  Series:
      Part 1 of Sex_is_Violent
  Stats:
      Published: 2013-11-05 Words: 2266
****** Playing Dolls ******
by GiggleSnortBangDead
Summary
     Derek didn’t know what he’d expected, but this certainly wasn’t it.
Notes
     I'm jumping aboard the evil Stilinski Twin Train. Whoo-whoo.
See the end of the work for more notes
Derek could tell what was happening, in a basic, general sense, before even
entering Stiles’s room. Stepping into the house, he could hear the little,
punched out cries that he had recently become familiar with. He knew that
breathless, overwhelmed, shaky moan very well, as he had been the one to pull
it from Stiles again and again. He had thought, in fact, that he was the only
one to have heard that noise.
But, standing at the base of the stairs, a sinking part of his chest recognized
how false that was. Someone was up there with him.
Derek checked his phone. Twenty minutes ago, Stiles had sent him a text,
saying: I need your help with something. Come over. and there had been a winky
face and an added: Dad’s out. Front door’s unlocked. and nothing since then.
Derek had expected - Derek didn’t know what he’d expected, but this certainly
wasn’t it.
Instead of turning tail and running away, like he wanted, he ascended a few
stairs and heard someone say He’s here, and someone else laugh as Stiles
breathed out What? before moaning again as someone shushed him.
Derek froze. There were three people in that room, and they didn’t sound like
the people he thought should be listening to Stiles make that panting, mewling
sound Stiles made when something felt so good it hurt.
He was suddenly up the stairs and at the door, needing to see and terrified of
what, exactly, lay behind the door. His hand rest on the doorknob. He exhaled
slowly, once. As he twisted the handle, the only thing he could think was that
he knew this was a terrible idea.
It was a shock to all the senses. The scent of heady arousal hit him like a
wall once the door wasn’t blocking it anymore. Stiles was louder too, a lot
like when they were alone together. What’s more was that he was naked, facing
Derek, sitting on a fully clothed Peter Hale’s face as his brother, also fully
clothed, kissed him very sweetly on the neck and jacked him off.
Upon seeing him, Stiles’s eyes widened and a panicked look flashed across his
face. Almost instantaneously, as he was choking out Derek’s name in shock,
Peter was humming under him and he was spilling all over Stu’s hand. Stu
outright laughed as Stiles scrambled off Peter’s face, looking mortified. Peter
sat up and brought Stu’s hand to his mouth, cleaning it off, as he eyed his
nephew across the room.
“Derek, I-” Stiles started, but didn’t finish as he had no excuse, so it
seemed.
Derek was still standing in the doorway, his hand gripping the doorknob very
tightly. Some very deep part of him roared with anger and betrayal to see this.
The obvious issues with Stiles’s other partners aside, he had thought the boy
was only his. He had to remind himself, though it was in vain because it did
nothing to help the bitter jealousy he was feeling, that he had never asked
Stiles to be exclusive, he had just assumed. He had never asked if he was the
boy’s first, just assumed.
“Derek, what are you doing here?” Stiles wouldn’t looked at him - too
embarrassed, Derek realized - as he frantically shuffled through a pile of
clothes on the ground for a pair of pants.
“Stiles, come back over here.” Stu ordered.
Stiles stopped and looked back to his brother. There was something pleading in
his eyes, something impossible to miss. It was, however, easy enough to ignore
because both Peter and Stu simply sat there, staring expectantly at him, until
he slunk back to them.
“I used your phone to text Derek to come over,” Stu explained, a hand wrapping
around his brother’s thigh. Stiles got wide-eyed again and looked between his
brother and the man who stood, still unmoving, at the door. “I think it’s time
we all had a talk.”
“Why would we do that?” Stiles asked, forcing a light tone. “If you’ll let me
put some clothes on, I can-”
“No.” Stu said mildly, and then turned his attention back to Derek. He smiled,
but it wasn’t a friendly gesture. “Come in. Shut the door.”
And Derek did. His eyes locked on Stiles, who looked so ashamed, biting his own
lip and focusing his gaze down at his lap. He bit down a little harder when
Peter’s hand trailed up to grope at his ass and rub a finger against his
swollen hole.
“What’s this all about?” Derek gruffed out, swallowing thickly.
Stuart shrugged. “It’s come to our attention recently that you’ve been fucking
Stiles too. We just wanted to make sure you’re taking good care of him.” Stiles
looked over at him, gaping, as if he hadn't known they were aware of his and
Derek's liaisons.
"But, I-" he started and was cut off by Stuart leaning forward to kiss him,
open mouthed and dirty. His brother broke away, and he started to nibble at his
throat and neck, a possessive hand still on his thigh.
Peter was saying something as well, but Derek couldn’t really hear him because
those words were ringing around in his head. The reality of it was coming in at
a screeching pace and it was all too much.
“No,” Derek murmured, eyes still snagging on Stiles’s blushing, nervous face.
He shook his head slightly. “No,” he repeated.
“No?” Peter asked, sounding amused.
“I-” and Derek finally moved, taking a step back. “I have to go.”
“How unexpected.” Peter deadpanned, working his fingers inside of Stiles, who
was starting to shake from the strained tension of his body.
“Oh, no,” Stu protested for show. “You’re going to hurt your boyfriend’s
feelings.” and the word was sneered out, more at Stiles than at Derek.
“What a pity.” and Peter twisted his fingers, so Stiles cried out in something
close to pain, before clamping down a hand over his own mouth. Stu reached
forward and pried it down.
“It’s alright, Stiles. Peter can fuck you. Peter loves fucking you.”
Stiles finally looked up at Derek, and he looked scared and unhappy and all the
things Derek never wanted to see him look. He briefly considered killing his
uncle and Stu right there. He was pretty sure he could do it, if he went after
Peter first. Stu would be easy after that.
But the thought was irrational, springing only from jealousy, and killing them
would have caused even more problems. And, besides, this wasn’t the place. Not
with Stiles there. Stiles didn’t need to see that.
So, he set his jaw and asked, “What do you want me to do?”
Stu’s face lit up and Peter pulled his hand back, smirking.
“You should strip.” Stu told him as Peter took Stiles’s hand and pulled him up
the bed. His uncle sat with his back to the wall and pulled the boy into his
lap, whispering something dirty to him that Derek couldn’t bear to hear.
As Derek pulled off his shirt, Peter was reaching for a bottle of lubricant on
the bedside table. Snaking an arm around, fingers slick, he started to fuck
into the boy’s already wet hole. Stiles bit down on a whine, cheeks flushing
even more as he looked up at Derek, who was kicking off his tight jeans.
Stu snerked. “Already half up?” gesturing to the slight, stiff bulge in Derek’s
briefs. “Don’t blame you. I mean,” Stu said, glancing back at his brother,
“Look at him.”
Derek did - hadn’t stopped, actually - and saw Peter crudely scissoring him
open and Stiles desperately trying to keep quiet. Derek slid down his underwear
and moved to the bed.
Peter worked his fingers out and readjusted the boy, leaning him against his
chest. He spread Stiles’s legs and hooked his hands under his knees, pulling
them back as far as he could, bringing the boy’s slender hips up, presenting
his hole.
Derek reached for the lube and Stu, who he hadn’t realized was so close behind
him, smacked his hand down. “He has enough.” Stu told him and nudged him to the
bed. “Just do it.”
“Condoms?” Derek asked.
“You two have been using condoms?” Stu snorted. “Whose idea was that? Peter,
have you ever used protection with Stiles?”
Peter hummed. “No, I don’t believe so.”
“Come on,” Stu demanded, pushing a little at Derek’s back. “On the bed.”
“Are you sure?” he asked, more to Stiles than anyone else.
“Please,” his brother scoffed. “Stiles has had enough come in him to make a
whore blush. Hurry up.” and Derek got on the bed.
Stiles was completely flushed and looking uncomfortable, to say the least.
Derek didn’t know if it was the conversation or the all-baring position Peter
had him in that did it, but he could guess that neither helped. He brought one
hand down to gently feel the boy’s entrance, which was slick and wet but not as
much as he wanted.
Regardless, he pulled his hands back and gave his own cock a few strokes before
lining up his dick with the boy’s hole. Very carefully, eyes darting up once
more to Stiles’s face, he started to ease in.
“Derek, I-” Stiles started to say, but Peter shushed him and Stu made an
impatient noise from where he was standing, watching.
“Jesus, Derek, he’s not going to break. He’s had way bigger with less lube.”
Peter chuckled and Stiles turned his face away. Derek tried to push in a little
faster, while still not hurting the boy.
“You okay?” Derek checked, like he always did when they were alone. Each time,
Stiles had looked so shocked to be asked - and this time was no different, but
knowing the reason why was making Derek feel sick down to his core.
“Just fucking go.” Stu demanded, sounding irritated.
So, gently, Derek started to rock his hips. He went very slowly, trying to draw
those little, pleasured, panting breaths out of him, when Stu made another
frustrated sound from the sidelines.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” he snapped. “Fuck him. Slam your
hips up.”
Derek’s hips did stutter forward, more in surprise than anything else, and
Stiles did make a noise that wasn’t totally unappreciative.
“Jesus Christ, I don’t know how you’ve been getting my baby brother to come.
You’re terrible at this.”
Derek growled at him, low in his throat, but it just made Stu smile. He came
over to the bed. “Here,” the aggression out of his voice as he knelt behind the
man. “Let me help you.”
His hands found Derek’s hips, and his front pressed against Derek’s back. Derek
could feel how hard Stu was through his jeans, but the boy just grinded himself
against Derek’s ass a little harder and took a tighter grip on his hips, his
body rocking in time with their’s.
Stu started by slowing the pace and, instead, bucking their hips forward,
deeper and harder. “You gotta do it like this,” he explained, thrusting
shallowly, by extension, into his brother. “Don’t leave him alone for too long.
Stay right here, working yourself deeper each time.”
He pulled their hips back a little more before ramming up violently and
chuckling when his brother keened and choked at the sensation. “That’s okay
too. Sometimes it’s good to fuck him only like that, until he can’t remember
anything but your name.
“But, that’s not you two want, is it?” Stu jeered, now back to the slow, close
pace of before. “You two want to make love.” He slammed them forward again,
even harder this time.
One of Derek’s hands left Stiles’s hip to come up and stroke the boy’s
previously neglected, erect and leaking cock. Stu reached around to grab his
wrist and drag it back.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”
“I was going-”
“You can make him come like this or you don’t get to make him come at all.” Stu
told him. Stiles whined and Derek, looking down at him, felt so guilty he
reached forward to cup his cheek, leaning down to kiss him.
Stuart made an enraged noise, snapping their hips again, and forcing a hand
under Derek’s jaw to pull him back. Peter chuckeld as Stiles’s gasped at the
new, faster, harder pace.
“We gotta get this dog a muzzle or something.” Stu told Peter. “I swear to
God.”
“Guys,” Stiles begged, gasping and looking like he might start crying, “Wait-”
but Peter brought up one hand and shoved his fingers into the boy’s mouth to
shut him up.
“Wait,” Derek choked, and then groaned as he felt his own release coming, hips
still slamming forward with Stu’s attentive guidance. “He said wait.”
“Shh,” Stu said, keeping up the pace while Derek couldn’t think clearly enough
to stop him. “Just shoot, dog.” he urged. “Come on. Shoot.”
And Derek did, but Stiles didn’t, crying out instead. Stu slapped their hips
forward erratically until they slowed to a stop.
Derek pulled out of Stiles the moment he could, already across the room,
tugging on his pants and grabbing his shirt to yank on as he ran out of the
room. Chancing one glance backwards, he saw Peter had already flipped Stiles
around and was nudging the boy’s mouth to his now exposed, hard cock. He rushed
down the stairs, not looking back again.
From above, he could hear Stu say I hope this doesn’t make things weird between
you two and Peter laugh as Stiles choked and sobbed on his dick.
Derek slammed the door behind him.
End Notes
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