Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/538515.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Teen_Wolf_(TV)
  Relationship:
      Derek_Hale/Stiles_Stilinski
  Character:
      Derek_Hale, Stiles_Stilinski
  Additional Tags:
      Smut, PWP, Anal_Sex, Oral_Sex, Prompt_Fic
  Stats:
      Published: 2012-10-16 Words: 1848
****** The Difference Between Fantasy and Reality ******
by Emoryems
Summary
     Stiles has questionable sources for research.
Notes
     Written for the prompt "Artemis Fowl Sterek AU smut" on Tumblr.
     Unfortunately, I am not familiar with Artemis Fowl, so this is PWP
     smut with vague mentions of the first book.
     This is my first Teen Wolf fic, and though I know it is far from
     perfect, I really hope you enjoy.
See the end of the work for more notes
"Stiles," Derek says, body stilling in place where he is leaning over Stiles to
reach into the bedside table. "What the hell is that?"
Stiles hums, eyes closed and teeth digging into Derek's shoulder gently as he
pulls away from the, he must admit, rather impressive hickey he had been
working on. Too bad they never lasted; trust him to find the one downfall of
super healing.
Derek shifts a little, his cock dragging over Stiles' belly and leaving a
little trail of pre-come behind, and Stiles moans, arching his hips up to gain
some friction of his own. His moan turns from mindless pleasure to one of
confusion as Derek pulls out of reach.
"Wha-?" Stiles starts to protest. He snaps his mouth shut when his now-open
eyes focus on the glass container Derek has pulled from his drawer.
Derek is staring at Stiles, one eyebrow hitched high. "What is this?"
Stiles sighs and settles back against his pillows, and shrugs. "An acorn."
Derek continues to stare. "Why do you have an acorn in your drawer?"
Stiles rolls his eyes. "I picked it up last Friday when you were doing your
monthly furry act." He licks his lips and waggles his eyebrows. "Now, c'mon. We
were in the middle of something." He pointedly looks down.
Derek places the glass container with the acorn inside on the surface of the
bedside table and pulls a second item from the drawer. "Last Thursday?" he
asks. "Why would you – we're not fairies, Stiles."
"I know that," Stiles protests, gasping as Derek pops open the lube, drizzles
some into his palm, and slides his hand between their bodies to grasp Stiles'
cock. Groaning and arching into the warm, good, so fucking good, pressure of
Derek's hand on him, Stiles says, "How do you know that?"
Derek's mouth twitches up in the corner and he slides a knee between Stiles'
legs, fingers trailing to roll Stiles' balls gently in his grasp before
slipping further back. "Know what? That we're not fairies?"
Stiles huffs as he bends his knees and shifts his hips to give Derek more room.
"No," he says. "How do you know about - about the acorn?"
Derek grabs the bottle of lube again and squeezes some more out, letting some
drip onto the base of Stiles' cock where it pools and trails down the crease of
his thigh, finally disappearing between his cheeks. He chases the same path
with his finger, teasing at the sensitive skin of Stiles' groin as he does,
then presses into Stiles with the tip of his finger.
"Fuck," Stiles groans, "fuck just – give me more, Derek."
Derek presses in deeper, sliding in easily, but then pulls away and drags his
fingers over Stiles' skin. He presses back at Stiles' entrance just as Stiles
is getting geared up to protest, this time with two fingers together.
"Oh," Stiles says, breathy and choked. "Oh man. Uh huh, that's good."
Derek smirks to himself, thrusting lazily with his hand, and leans down to
capture Stiles' lips in a kiss.
Stiles presses forward, hips working to try and speed up Derek's ministrations,
and he licks across Derek's lips before delving inward and against Derek's own
tongue.
They kiss, lips moving, licking against one another, teeth scraping softly, all
the while Derek pressing his fingers into Stiles over and over again,
completely surrounded by his lover's soft heat.
It's Stiles that pulls away.
"Dude – Derek," he pants, shifting his hips in time to Derek's hand. "Come on."
"You good?" Derek asks, fingers pressed in as far as he can reach.
Stiles reaches for the lube and pops the cap, pooling some in his hand and
slicking it over Derek's dick. "More than," he replies.
Derek groans lowly, hips moving in little jerks with Stiles' hand, and he tips
his chin down so he can watch his fingers disappear into Stiles.
After a few more moments, Derek pulls his fingers free slowly and leans forward
again, pressing a soft kiss to Stiles' lips. He then reaches down and grabs one
of Stiles' legs to rest over his shoulder, giving himself room to kneel between
the other man's legs.
Derek grabs the base of his cock and presses the head to Stiles' opening, eyes
flicking from the sight to watch Stile's expression as he presses forward. He
goes slow, feels as Stiles opens up to the first inch, all hot and soft around
him, and only stops when he sees Stiles' fingers grasp at the covers beneath
them.
Stiles has his bottom lip pinched between his teeth and his eyes clamped shut.
He isn't in pain, but he's trembling and sweating, breath coming in short
gasps. His cock, flushed and still hard, is laying against his stomach.
Reaching forward, Derek wraps his hand around Stiles' dick, sliding his hand up
and down and rubbing his thumb over the head.
"Fuck, Derek," Stiles says. His eyes open and he looks down at where Derek is
stroking him. "Yeah."
Stiles' hand loosens its hold on the covers, coming to rest on Derek's
shoulder. He lets his fingers travel over the spot where he'd worked a hickey
just minutes ago, which is now nothing more than unblemished skin.
Derek's chest rumbles with a little gruff laugh. "You can always try again
later," he says.
"Mm," Stiles hums. "I'll figure out a way to make them last."
Derek hikes Stiles' leg a little further up, and presses himself in the rest of
the way, hips moving almost involuntarily in little jerks, leaving his balls to
slap against the skin of Stiles' ass. He starts a slow, steady rhythm of in and
out, in and grind and out, sweat beading on his chest.
"And how are you going to do that?" Derek asks between thrusts.
Stiles' fingers trace from Derek's shoulder to his chest, catching the sweat
there on his finger tips and smearing the wet trails. "Magic, obviously."
Derek's thrusts get faster, a little harder, and he concentrates on the feel of
Stiles around him, of the other man's hands as they move over him. The sight of
pale skin dotted with dark flecks of colour, of deep amber eyes watching his
own, has Derek wanting to keep Stiles like this for hours.
Stiles pinches Derek's nipples between his fingers, rolling the nubs sharply
before soothing them with his thumbs. His hips are rocking with Derek's
thrusts, and the entirety of his upper chest and neck is starting to flush
pink.
Groaning, needing to be closer, to be pressed against hot flesh, Derek lets
Stiles' leg drop from his shoulder and leans down to wrap his arm around
Stiles' back. He slips his other hand under Stiles' ass, then pulls the other
man upward until Stiles is straddling Derek as he kneels on the bed.
Stile gasps at the new position, stomach muscles straining as he brings his
legs around to cross at the ankles against Derek's ass. He doesn't have much
leverage in this position, but he is nestled into Derek's lap, and his cock
presses into Derek's abdomen, giving him plenty of friction.
Derek kisses Stiles and presses them close together as he grabs under Stiles'
thighs, holding Stiles up just enough that he can thrust into him in short
pistons of his hips.
Stiles starts to make little "uh, uh, uh" noises with very thrust of Derek's
hips, his mouth still pressed against Derek's. It's less of a kiss now though,
more a sharing of breath.
Derek's legs are starting to tremble as he works faster, the pressure of his
orgasm building at the base of his spine.
Stiles reaches behind himself, fingers tracing over his own entrance, feeling
where Derek is fucking into him, and then further. He has to arch back a
little, but he gets his hand around Derek's balls, groping gently and feeling
them tighten against the werewolf's body.
"Yeah Derek, c'mon," he says. "Come in me."
Derek hisses out a breath and buries his head in Stiles' shoulder, hips moving
almost frantically now.
"That's it. Fuck." Stiles tilts his head to the side as Derek mouths along the
line of his shoulder up to his ear, feeling the dull pressure of his teeth just
barely skimming over him. "I want to feel you dripping out of me."
Derek moans at Stiles' words and his muscles all go taught as he presses his
cock as deeply into Stiles as he can, grinding and circling his hips, and it
feels like his whole body is pulsing with pleasure as he starts coming.
Derek stills except for little twitches of his hips, pressed up tight into
Stiles, and holds on to the other man like he might never let go.
Stiles' hands move over Derek's shoulders and down his back as his lover pants
into his neck and slowly loosens his grip. When Derek shifts, adjusting his
grip from under Stiles' thighs to his hips, his cock, still hard and hot in
Stiles, presses tantalizingly against Stiles' prostate. It leaves Stiles
gasping and rutting his cock against Derek's stomach.
Derek pulls away from his place against Stiles and leans both of them forward,
pressing Stiles onto his back against the bed before pulling his cock from
Stiles' body.
Stiles shudders and brings his hand up, wrapping his fingers around his dick;
he doesn't get the chance to start rubbing his hand up and down before Derek
has batted his hand away.
"Hey-" Stiles starts, breaking off as Derek's hands press his hips into the
mattress, and his tongue licks up his shaft. "Oh fuck yes," he says instead.
Derek keeps his hands on Stiles' hips, pinning him down, and he licks his way
up and down the length of Stiles' cock, tongue circling the head and over the
slit where come is beading. When he sucks the head into his mouth, pressing
against the tip with his tongue, Stiles' hands are suddenly in his hair, nails
scratching over Derek's scalp.
It doesn't take long before Stiles is crying out, hands clenched in Derek's
hair and come pulsing in Derek's mouth.
When Stiles has stopped coming, Derek swallowing what he can and the rest
painted across his lips, Stiles releases his grip on Derek's hair and sooths
over where he had been holding.
Derek pulls back and, licking his lips, lays down beside Stiles. He throws one
leg over both of Stiles' and lets his gaze rest on the acorn on the bedside
table.
"Aren't you supposed to plant that somewhere?" Derek asks, rubbing a hand over
Stiles' hip and thigh.
Snorting in amusement, Stiles says, "I thought you'd be more of a Lord of the
Flies kind of guy, myself. Besides, I was waiting for the right place."
"You do realize Artemis Fowl is fiction, right?"
Stiles slits one eye open, the golden brown of his iris glinting in the light
from his window, and says, "I've gotta keep all of my options open." He winks
at Derek. "Where else am I going to get enough magical powers to perma-hickey
you?"
End Notes
     Come and say 'hi' to me on Tumblr -- I love following Teen Wolf
     blogs, and am always up for a conversation or prompts :)
     http://thestilinskinator.tumblr.com/
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