Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/681906.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      teen_wolf_-_Fandom
  Relationship:
      Derek_Hale/Stiles_Stilinski
  Character:
      Stiles_Stilinski, Derek_Hale
  Additional Tags:
      Anal_Play, Anal_Sex, dildo, Oral_Sex, cake_batter_as_lube, spatula_as
      dildo, Nipple_Play, Nipple_Torture, apron_porn, Food_Porn, Bakery!AU
  Stats:
      Published: 2013-02-13 Words: 2449
****** Stiles Planned This Whole Thing ******
by containyourselfladdie
Summary
     Derek makes a strangled noise when Stiles has his middle finger deep
     in his mouth. Surprised, Stiles turns to Derek (with his finger still
     in his mouth) to find Derek standing there with his mouth open,
     nearly panting, eyes wide and focused with striking intensity on the
     way Stiles’ mouth stretches around his finger.
     Stiles pops the finger out of his mouth, “Oh,” he voices.
Notes
See the end of the work for notes
Stiles moans around the fingers in his mouth. The savory scent of chocolate
filled his nose as he breathed in and sucked hard on his fingers. Pulling them
out slowly he lets a heartfelt moan fill the air.
“Derek, you have got to try this. I don’t think I’ve ever made something so
delicious. God, it’s like Heaven in my mouth,” Stiles says around fingers that
have already returned to his mouth after being dipped in the chocolate cake
batter. He sucks them into his mouth again, hollowing out his cheeks. He closes
his eyes in rapture, savoring the feel of it coating his tongue. He pulls the
fingers out of his mouth slowly and proceeds to lick away all the stray remains
of batter off his fingers. His tongue laves each individual finger before
sucking it back into his mouth to ensure that all the chocolate goodness is off
of them.
Derek makes a strangled noise when Stiles has his middle finger deep in his
mouth. Surprised, Stiles turns to Derek (with his finger still in his mouth) to
find Derek standing there with his mouth open, nearly panting, eyes wide and
focused with striking intensity on the way Stiles’ mouth stretches around his
finger.
Stiles pops the finger out of his mouth, “Oh,” he voices.
The next thing he knows, Derek is on him, all rough hands and tongue slipping
into Stiles’ mouth and stealing the taste of chocolate. Derek owns him in that
kiss, stripping Stiles of his senses and reducing him to arching up into the
heat looming over him.
Stiles is never still and sex is no different. His hands are a flurry of
movement, sometimes in Derek’s hair, sometimes on his back, his ass, his hips,
his thighs. His nails rake and leave red welts that disappear in seconds.
Stiles is never quiet either. Moans, sighs, whimpers, and whines fall from his
lips and scatter over Derek. Derek wrenches himself away from Stiles’ mouth
with a growl. He dips his fingers into the bowl and smears chocolate all over
Stiles’ lips.
Stiles moans and licks at his lips, savoring the taste. Derek brings up his
chocolate coated fingers and pushes at Stiles’ lips. Stiles’ mouth opens and
invites them in. Stiles watches Derek’s eyes flicker to red and then back as
Derek’s eyes are glued to the way Stiles’ mouth stretches around his fingers.
Derek’s thick fingers and he’s got three of them in Stiles’ mouth now.
Stiles sucks the fingers in deep and gets his tongue working on them. He
circles Derek’s fingers, laving at them with saliva dripping out of his mouth
and mingling with the chocolate still coating his lips. Growling, Derek pulls
his fingers out of Stiles’ mouth and steps away to just gaze at him.
Stiles is leaning against the counter in the bakery, his apron is skewed to the
left, his hair mussed, lips swollen and covered with a mixture of saliva and
chocolate. His eyes are glossy and glazed his expression dazed. He looks
wrecked and they haven’t even started yet.
Derek looks around the room, wildly, needing something to work with. His eyes
fall upon the spatula Stiles used to mix the cake better. Smirking Derek crowds
Stiles against the counter. He kisses him deeply, while crouching down to get
his arms under Stiles’ knees. With a grunt, he hefts him up on top of the
counter. Without leaving the kiss, he unbuckles Stiles’ pants and slides them
off boxers and all leaving Stiles naked from the waist down.
Derek breaks the kiss and moves down Stiles’ body while pushing his legs up so
his feet rested flat on the edge of the counter.
“Spread you legs,” Derek orders, Stiles (the eager bastard) spreads his legs
wide, willingly exposing his hole.
Derek reaches up and thumbs the tender opening (still a little sore from this
morning), grinning when Stiles shudders and whines.
“You have one minute to get your shirt off,” Derek orders, “but leave the apron
on, and keep yourself in that position.”
Stiles scrambles to do as he is told, however because Stiles is Stiles and the
universe hates him, he gets stuck. Stiles wriggles with his arms stuck in the
sleeves of the t-shirt that is pulled taught across his back and elbows.
Derek looks up from where he is messing with the chocolate batter and chuckles.
“Actually,” he says, “I think I like you better like this.”
Stiles glares, “Derek, come on, I want to touch you.”
Ignoring him, Derek brings chocolate coated fingers to Stiles’ hole. He circles
the sensitive, twitching flesh, prodding at it until Stiles opens for his index
finger. Stiles moans and knocks his head back against the wall behind him.
“Derek, more! I’m still open a little from this morning.”
“Is that so? Well then.”
With a shove Derek thrusts three fingers into Stiles. Moaning, Stiles jerks and
keens high in his throat, thrusting back onto the fingers invading him.
“Derek,” he whines, “Please.”
“Please what?” Derek asks thrusting and twisting his fingers in Stiles,
searching for that one spot.
“Don’t tease me.”
“Really? That’s what you were doing to me.”
“Derek! Please, I need-“
“What? You need this?” Derek fingers find Stiles’ prostate and torture it. His
fingers circle it and rub it and press against it, hard. Stiles jerks and moans
against him, begging.
“Derek, please, please, please.”
“Please what, Stiles?”
“Please let me come!”
Derek smirks, he wiggles in his pinky and fucks it into Stiles, hard and fast.
Stiles gasps around the burn, clenching his hole. Determined, Derek thrusts his
fingers against Stiles’ prostate, honing in on it and rubbing it. Above him,
Stiles pants and pleads. Derek listens to him; mouth curving up as Stiles
steadily loses his mind.
Finally, Derek concedes, he presses his fingers against Stiles’ prostate and
holds.
Leaning over, he whispers in Stiles ear, “Come.”
Stiles arches and whines, come spilling out from his cock, coating the apron he
still wore and splashing onto the front of Derek’s shirt.
Derek slowly thrusts his fingers in and out of Stiles, working him down from
his high. Smiling softly at him, he leans forward and presses a soft kiss to
his forehead as he pulls his fingers out.
Stiles whimpers at the feel of being so empty.
“Don’t worry,” Derek soothes, “You’ll be full again soon.”
Stiles settles against the wall, legs splayed open. Relaxed and trusting.
Perfect.
Grabbing the spatula, Derek coats it with the chocolate cream. Bringing it to
Stiles’ hole he slowly pushes it in.
Stiles whines, “Derek what are you doing? Derek is that the spatula? Have you
been using the batter this entire time?”
“Stiles, if you do not shut up I will gag you.”
Thrusting it in fully, Derek doesn’t stop until all that is sticking out of
Stiles’ entrance is the head of the spatula.
Derek nudges it causing it to shift inside of Stiles. He grins when he hears
the answering moan, “Like that?”
“Derek, you put a spatula in my ass!”
“I thought I told you to shut up.”
“What?”
“Get up on all fours. Face me.”
Stiles groans but moves his tired muscles until he is on his knees facing
Derek. He motions at his arms.
“It’s a little hard to get on all fours if I can’t use two of them.”
Rolling his eyes, Derek pulls the t-shirt off of his arms and allows him to
crouch down on the countertop until he is facing Derek’s straining crotch.
“If you can’t keep your mouth shut, I’ll just have to shut it for you.”
“That’s cheesy, Derek. You were doing well, but you should stop trying to be
funny.”
“Stiles. Suck. It.”
Derek opens his fly and pulls out his straining cock. He uses his other hand to
hold Stiles head and position him.
Stiles glances up at him as he flicks his tongue out to taste Derek’s cock.
Getting an idea, he grabs some chocolate batter out of the bowl and coats
Derek’s dick with it. Derek hisses once of the cool batter touches his skin.
He’s been hard ever since he walked in and saw Stiles sucking his goddamn
fingers.
Groaning he grabs Stiles head and positions his cock at Stiles’ mouth. Glancing
down he pushes his cock into Stiles’ mouth and moans as his lips stretch around
his thick length.
“Stiles,” Derek groans. In response, Stiles hums around his dick happily. He
sucks and licks, and lets his tongue play around Derek’s dick.
“God, look at you. You enjoy this. This is probably your favorite part.”
Stiles eyes smile at Derek. He sucks happily at his reward until all the
chocolate is off of Derek’s cock. Derek lets Stiles play until he feels an
orgasm threatening. Regretfully, he pulls Stiles off his cock and smiles at his
annoyed whine.
“I have plans for you, Stiles.”
“Dude, you should stick to one word commands. They worked better for you.”
Annoyed, Derek flips Stiles over until he is back in his previous position
(regretfully minus the arm bondage). Grasping the head of the spatula he
mutters, “This should give you something else to think about.”
Derek pulls the spatula out until barely an inch of it remains; then he thrusts
it back in to the hilt causing a scream to rip its way out of Stiles’ throat.
Grinning, Derek proceeds to ravage Stiles’ raw, sensitive insides with the
spatula. He twists and thrusts the impromptu dildo until Stiles is a withering,
moaning mess against the wall. Reaching up with his free hand Derek pinches and
twists a cute, pink nipple. Stiles jerks and arches his chest out against
Derek’s touch.
“Don’t think I forgot how sensitive these are,” Derek says. Stiles’ nipples
look oddly red and a little raw. Startled Derek realizes that without the t-
shirt on there was nothing to stop the rough straps of the apron from rubbing
against Stiles’ poor nipples. Every time Stiles moved the straps rasped over
Stiles’ nipples, rubbing them raw. The entire time, Stiles nipples were being
tortured.
“You poor thing,” Derek mocks as he purposely grabs a strap and rubs it over
Stiles left nipple, “your little nipples were being rubbed this entire time.”
Derek continues to drag the cloth over Stiles nipple as he fucks him harder and
faster with the spatula.
“Can you come for me again, Stiles, can you?”
Derek grabs Stiles’ nipple, pinches, twists and pulls just as he thrusts the
spatula deep inside of Stiles making sure to rub over his prostate and holding
it there.
“Come.” He orders.
Stiles lets a roar rip out of his throat as his cock erupts for a second time.
He jerks and shakes against Derek’s arms as an orgasm of almost violent
proportions rakes through his body leaving him weak, limp, and shuddering.
Derek lets go of his nipple and soothes it with a lick that earns him a tired,
raw groan. He gently pulls the spatula out of Stiles, wincing in sympathy at
the hiss that causes.
Derek gathers Stiles in his arms and prepares to lift him off the counter when
Stiles speaks up.
“What are you doing?”
“Getting you down so I can clean you up.”
“You haven’t fucked me.”
“I just did.”
“With a spatula. I want your cock, Derek. You can’t tease me that much and then
not give me your cock.”
“Are you sure? I don’t want to hurt you.”
“Derek, I’m a big boy, I can take more than you think I can.”
Smiling, Stiles leans down and kisses Derek, licking deep into his mouth and
coaxing Derek’s tongue into his own. He scoots back onto the counter and
invites Derek to climb up with him. He leans over Derek until he is straddling
him, Derek’s hard cock poking up at his hole. Grabbing a handful of batter,
Stiles coats Derek’s shaft and slowly lowers himself down.
Groaning at the feeling of finally being full of what he wanted, Stiles lifts
himself up and thrusts back down. Derek’s hands rest on Stiles’ hips as Stiles
finds a steady rhythm slowly driving them both towards completion.
“Derek, I love your cock. It’s so big and fucking gorgeous. The entire time you
fucked me with that stupid spatula I wanted this. Fuck, I’m so full.”
Stiles was a constant steady stream of absolute filth as he fucked himself on
Derek’s cock. Moaning Derek looks up and finds that again the rough straps of
the apron are rubbing against Stiles’ nipples. Smirking, he draws his hands up
from Stiles’ hips, dragging them up Stiles’ sides until he reaches his nipples.
Grasping one in each hand, he starts pinching and pulling at them.
Stiles jerks and his entrance flutters around Derek’s cock.
“You bastard,” Stiles chokes out, “Do you know how wrecked those are right now?
This entire time they’ve been fucking rubbed raw and I couldn’t even find a way
to stop it. And then you held that strap there and I fucking, Derek, God, I
wanted to scream.”
Stiles’ resilient cock has once again hardened. Smiling, Derek uses one hand to
grab the apron taught again, causing the straps to rub on Stiles’ nipples
incessantly.
The other hand trails down Stiles’ side to finally grasp his neglected cock.
“Come on Stiles,” Derek urges, “One more time. You’re so fucking hot up there,
wrecked and still you can’t stop. With you poor red nipples and still your cock
is so hard, Stiles. Come for me, Stiles, one more time.”
Hips jerking with each thrust Stiles slams himself down onto Derek’s cock,
raking his prostate along the way and presses himself down. Derek’s hand speeds
up on his cock, finally pushing Stiles over the edge.
As Stiles pours himself between them, his passage clenches around Derek’s cock.
Derek finally let’s himself let go while watching the ecstasy spread out over
Stiles’ face as he comes.
Later they’ll have to clean up the absolute mess they’ve made of the kitchen.
They’ll groan at the come sticking them together and Stiles will grumble about
how they never have sex on beds like normal people. Derek will chuckle and kiss
him on the cheek and point out that Stiles initiated the whole debacle. Stiles
will mutter and call him a bastard, but he’ll be smiling.
But that’s all later, for now they were content to just soak in each other’s
warmth.
“You know,” Derek says, “It’d be a shame to waste all that good batter.”
“I can make more,” Stiles replies.
“I don’t know,” Derek states, “I might just want to eat what I can out of you.”
End Notes
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