Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/922618.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      F/M
  Fandom:
      Teen_Wolf_(TV)
  Relationship:
      Peter_Hale/Lydia_Martin
  Character:
      Peter_Hale, Lydia_Martin
  Additional Tags:
      Smutlet, Surprise_Kissing, Surprise_Sex, Anger, Threats
  Stats:
      Published: 2013-08-12 Words: 1135
****** Show me your teeth ******
by gidget_84
Summary
     AU Season 3
     How Peter and Lydia's first meeting together should go...
     ---------------------------------------------------------------------
     -----
It all starts with a suspiciously vague text from Stiles: “Meet me at Derek’s,
it’s important.”
----------
When she gets to the loft, Stiles ushers her quickly over to the couch and
tells her he’ll be right back, before exiting into another room.
She sits for a few minutes, taking in the décor, or lack thereof.
Getting impatient she starts shouting out at Stiles: “Stiles what’s going on?
Why are we here? Does this have to do with Derek and Paige again? Look, I told
you, it’s none of your business anyway…I mean, who cares why Derek is the way
he is, that’s not our problem.”
----------
She hears the audible click of a lock on the front door, and subsequent steps
coming down the stairs.
“I already told him, he was a lot like Scott, actually.”
Turning to the source of the voice, she sees him coming down the stairs and
bolts for the front door, muttering “oh fuck no.”
“Lydia…” he starts.
She raises a hand to stop him, before trying in vain to jiggle the loft door to
slide open; kicking the door repeatedly and screaming, “Stiles, when you come
back, you are going to be in a world of hurt!”
Breathing heavily, she turns back towards Peter, narrows her eyes, and points a
finger at him “You! I don’t care what you have to say! I don’t care what you
want or why you did what you did!”
“But, you’re so beautiful when you’re angry” he states, a smile curling his
lips.
Rolling her eyes, she makes it back towards the couch, sitting as far as she
can from him, before he takes his own spot on the opposite side of her.
After sitting in silence for a few minutes, she turns to him, “Well?”
“I thought you didn’t care what I had to say?”
“I don’t, but I’m not going to sit here in silence with you either, start
talking or I’m going to go lock myself in the bathroom until he gets back.”
He chuckles, “well, that is certainly a motivator.”
She gives him a dirty look before getting up; a hand on her wrist stops her.
“Wait…sorry” he says and lets her go when he notices her staring at his hand.
Sitting back down, her hands go to her lap as she stares at where his hand had
been; that same place the bruise was.
When she looks up, locking eyes with him and…what was she thinking?
------------
He’s right in front of her again, his face too close to hers, heart beating
rapidly as his hand comes up to tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear. She
closes her eyes, breath coming in faster, but she won’t cry this time; not for
him.
----------
His lips feel the same, what a funny thought to have right then. Putting her
hands on his chest, she tries to push him away, only to have him bring his
hands to hers, keeping them there against him.
She wants to say she tries again, to stop him after that, but she doesn’t.
She’s back in that old house with him, kissing him like he’s a life raft and
they’re floating out to sea. She has to hold on, as she feels her world tilt
backwards.
His hands let go of hers, going into her hair as hers go to cup his face; both
of them falling back on the couch.
-----------
The callused palm of one of his hands is hot as it trails up her calf to her
thigh; a reminder of where this could go if she wanted it to. But, her shirt
and bra were already long forgotten on the floor and it seems to be heading
that way any way.
“You and these damnable skirts, it’s like you know how much you tease me”, his
voice muffled, before he makes his way down her chest, placing lavish attention
upon each of her breasts with his mouth and tongue.
Between moans of pleasure, she laughs, “Yes, I only wear them for you…I never
know when you’re going to pop up as it is.”
--------
Face at her throat once more, he places open-mouthed kisses to her neck and
ear.
In a low, hypnotic voice he tells her, “Remember when we kissed before? You
were so sweet…”
“Hey! I distinctly remember you kissing me first” she protests.
“Yeah, I may have initiated it, but you definitely kept it going” he responds,
before kissing back down her collarbone.
He looks down at her, but up into her eyes, “Speaking of which…I won’t say I’m
sorry for being alive; but thank you for helping to bring me back. I never got
to properly thank you before.”
“Next time”, she states, “just be nice to whoever is resurrecting you, no
nightmares please. And…just so you know, if you ever hurt me or my friends
again, I will be the one to kill you next time.”
He makes a grunting sound when she squeezes his cock hard through his jeans,
“Is that understood?”
“Completely” he chokes out.
-----------
Skirt hiked up around her waist, his face between her thighs; lips and tongue
torturing her in the best way possible. When he goes back up to kiss her, his
mouth is slick from her desire, and it turns her on even more to get just a
sample of what she tastes like.
His belt and pants come off easy enough, and apparently, someone likes to go
commando.
He pushes her back onto the couch, one hand coming up to cup her face to kiss
her again as he guides his cock inside her. She’s hot, and oh so tight, he
hardly thinks this will work…but then she wraps her legs around his waist, and
is urging him to go deeper, harder…oh god, just there. Her moans being
swallowed by his mouth still firmly attached to hers. He can’t seem to stop
kissing her.
It’s a fast rhythm at first, speeding ahead towards completion for them both,
but she asks him to go slower, make it last.
He still has this ridiculously low V-neck shirt on so she takes advantage of
the slower pace to help him pull it up and off. Now it’s skin to skin and
fuck…who would have known he had all that under those stupid shirts he tends to
wear.
She puts her hands to his chest, running her fingertips down to his stomach and
back up; she grips his shoulders, her fingernails digging into the flesh.
His neck is begging to be bitten, and she can’t control the urge; she bites him
between his shoulder and neck and he actually growls.
She smiles at him, teeth a little bloody, “now show me your teeth” she says.
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ans loudly before he pulls his mouth away.
            “Fuck, Stiles,” His lips are red and swollen and Stiles is sure he
doesn’t look much better. “I want to fuck you into the mattress and make sure
both of us come all over it to cover up Scott’s smell, I want to rub my come
into your skin and inside you and on your face and show everyone that you’re
mine.”
            “Derek,” Stiles pants, “You’re such a fucking asshole.”
            Derek grins before gripping Stiles’ ass more firmly and lifting him
away from the wall. He turns around and deposits Stiles on the bed and
undresses himself in record time (seriously that had to be faster than Stiles,
even at his horniest). Stiles had just gotten himself tangled in his own shirt
when he felt Derek kneel on the bed.
            Derek shredded through his t-shirt to get him free of it.
            “Dude, my shirt!” To which Stiles was awarded a growl and an (only
slightly) intimidating glare from the werewolf.
            Derek was apparently going to be stopped by nothing to get Stiles
naked right now, because he clawed his way through Stiles’ sweatpants too in
order to get to bare skin (yes Stiles was going commando it’s comfortable shut
up).
            As soon as Stiles is naked Derek is all teeth and tongue around
Stiles hip bones. He sucks hotly over old bruises that were close to fading,
but apparently never would if Derek has any say in it.
            Stiles really does love the biting, the biting and the sucking are
awesome, but it would be so much more useful in a slightly more penis region.
            “Derek,” Stiles groans, “Fuck, please.”
            “Mhhmm,” Derek hums back at him and licks a wide stripe up Stiles’
belly.
            Stiles looks down at him and wants to scream at the wolfish grin
he’s met with.
            “You. Are. A. Dick.” Stiles grunts. He can feel his cock throbbing
between his legs, needing release.
            Then Derek is climbing up the bed, and up Stiles for that matter,
until he’s sitting on Stiles’ chest with his cock in front of Stiles’ mouth.
            Stiles wants it so badly, he licks his lips and lets his jaw relax,
waiting.
            Derek is slowly stroking himself and staring at Stiles’ face.
Stiles isn’t sure if Derek wants to come on his face or actually fuck it, but
whatever he’s doing it’s not fun for Stiles. He isn’t getting anything out of
this. He tries to move of his hands to stroke himself, only to discover that
his arms are being held by Derek’s thighs. And he knows it. Stiles glares up
and sees Derek grinning at him again.
            “Fuck yeah, Stiles. I’m gonna fuck your mouth open and then I’ll
let you come on my face.”
            Stiles really is ready to scream now. He’s just glad that his dad
isn’t home right now.
            Derek’s cock finally touches Stiles’ lips, but just the tip is
swiped across his mouth, smearing pre-come.
            Stiles moans around Derek’s dick when it’s actually pushed into his
willing mouth. He’s humming trying to lick and suck as much as possible as
Derek starts sliding in and out slowly. Stiles tries moaning louder, and
succeeds in getting Derek to increase the speed of his thrusts. Stiles is aware
that he has tears coming out of the corners of his eyes, but he can also feel
how close Derek is and he wants to swallow Derek’s come.
            “Ah, Stiles, ah,” Derek’s last few thrusts are short and really
fucking hard right before he comes. Stiles gets most of it in his mouth but
some gets on his cheek and lips. Derek pulls away and looks down just in time
to see Stiles licking come off his mouth.
            Derek is breathless when he slides back down Stiles’ body and
kisses the head of Stiles’ dick. Stiles is tired. His arms are asleep from
Derek sitting on him and he couldn’t jerk himself of if he tried. Derek helped
with that by taking Stiles with one hand while he bit Stiles’ thighs some more.
            “I want you to look at me, Stiles,” Derek whispers, “I want you to
watch your come hit me, watch yourself mark me.”
            Stiles looked down pleadingly at his wolf. Derek started pumping
his fist up and down as Stiles let a needy whine escape from himself.
            His orgasm hit him like a truck. He groaned as his come hit Derek
on the cheek and chin and a little bit in his hair. Derek just smiled like the
fucking Cheshire cat.
            “You’re such a dick,” Stiles said and threw his head back onto the
bed.
            Then Derek bit him on the stomach and Stiles yelled an incredulous,
“Ow!”
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