Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/899163.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Teen_Wolf_(TV)
  Relationship:
      Derek_Hale/Stiles_Stilinski
  Character:
      Derek_Hale, Stiles_Stilinski
  Additional Tags:
      First_Time, Nipple_Piercings, Anal_Sex, Topping_from_the_Bottom, Riding,
      Barebacking, Bottom_Stiles, Top_Derek
  Stats:
      Published: 2013-07-26 Words: 3682
****** i wanna get as good as you're gettin' ******
by PrincezzShell101
Summary
     I mean, did you see Derek's face when he'd tugged on it?
     Right. No, you didn't. 'Cause you weren’t there.
     But yeah. That face? Totally blissed out.
     Stiles wants to feel that, himself. He wants to know what it feels
     like to have someone pressing down on his nipple piercing, tugging
     it, licking it. He wants to feel that spark or jolt of pleasure shoot
     down his spine. He wants to know that feeling, and he wants to know
     sooner rather than later.
     Sequel to derek has a what?
Notes
     Smutty smutty sex ahead ;)
See the end of the work for more notes
So, ever since the awesome thingy with Derek that lovely Saturday morning
(Stiles like to call it sex… but then, it was only giving a hand job and
receiving head. So yeah. He's not sure if that counts as sex, but whatever.
He's workin' on it), Stiles has been thinking on the subject of getting himself
one (or two. Who knows, really) of those shiny little silver miracles known as
'nipple piercings'.
I mean, did you see Derek's face when he'd tugged on it?
Right. No, you didn't. 'Cause you weren't there.
But yeah. That face? Totally blissed out.
Stiles wants to feel that, himself. He wants to know what it feels like to have
someone pressing down on his nipple piercing, tugging it, licking it. He wants
to feel that spark or jolt of pleasure shoot down his spine. He wants to know
that feeling, and he wants to know sooner rather than later.
So, that is why Stiles Stilinski is lying spread eagle on Derek Hale's bed at
the ass crack of nightfall (not dawn 'cause he just so happens to like sleeping
in. Who doesn't?).
Derek's not at home yet (seriously, how would Stiles have even got in if Derek
were there? Yeah. He wouldn't have). He's basically waiting here for the alpha
to show up, flicking absentmindedly at his nipple bars ('cause he got those
instead of rings since they looked cooler) through his shirt (the ones that
he'd secretly gotten only four months ago, and boy had it fucking hurt. Getting
a piece of metal threaded, and pulled, through your nipples? Yeah. Owch. Not
fun. At all. I mean, his nipples are sensitive. Like really sensitive. So
having that hard piece of metal impaled through? FUCK. He can remember his past
self's yelp of pain all too clearly).
Stiles is about to check his phone (he'd text Derek the following a few minutes
ago: get your ass home, sourwolf. I got a surprise for you), when he hears the
familiar engine of the Camaro pull up outside. He quickly rearranges his body
on the bed into a much more 'sexy posture' (which he's spread eagle, remember.
So him getting into a sexier posture? Yep, it takes true talent), just as he
hears footsteps getting closer to the bedroom door.
The bedroom door flies open suddenly, and Stiles is faced with a very surprised
Derek Hale. The alpha's eyebrows shoot up to his hairline when he catches sight
of the boy spread eagle on his bed, and he blinks for a minute before frowning.
"I got your text. What are you doing here?"
Of course he has to ask that, Stiles thinks. He makes a happy, contented sigh,
pushing his limbs out further and stretching like a cat before rubbing his face
into Derek's sheets. "Lying here. Was waiting for you," he purrs.
"Yeah, I get that," Derek bites back sarcastically. "What for?"
"'Cause, like I said." Stiles twists his body so he can get his shirt off,
throwing the piece of clothing at Derek who catches it in his hand before it
hits him in the face. "I have a surprise for you."
Derek scowls at the shirt in his hand like it has personally offended him
before he drops it to the floor. He's about to tell Stiles to get out and go
home because I'm tired and want to sleep and don't have time for this when…
"You like?" Stiles runs a finger along the metal bar going through his nipple,
gasping softly when the sensitive flesh hardens under his touch. "I got 'em
four months ago. Thought we could have more in common, y'know? Plus, I told you
I was gonna get one… and well, I guess that idea flew itself right out of the
window." He winks slyly.
Derek stares, mouth slightly agape, at Stiles's broad, naked chest. Stiles has
both his nipples pierced, not justone, and they're both silver bars, not rings
like the one he has. They make Stiles's nipples look even more perkier than
they usually are. Derek's so stunned that he can't come up with any words to
say.
Stiles smirks at the absolutely awed look on Derek's face. "Speechless?" He
tugs on the other piercing, arching his back and tilting his head up toward the
ceiling, mouth parted. "Well I'm not gonna say that you being silent is a bad
thing, 'cause it just means you can focus all your attention on touching me
and," he moves his other hand to stroke the bulge in his pants, panting
slightly, "getting me to come."
Derek doesn't pace himself, so he's not exactly sure how long it takes him to
get his body on top of Stiles's. His estimate is less than a second. He's got
both of Stiles's arms above his head and he holds them there as he bends his
head to lick a stripe up the middle of the boy's chest, from belly button to
breastbone. The small, soft gasp he receives in return urges him on and he
feels along one of the metal bars in his fingers, before pressing it down
against the nipple it's hooked through.
"Oh. Oh, God, that's… that feels awesome," Stiles moans. "Do that again."
Derek presses his thumb down on the bar again, this time holding it there.
"Like that?"
Stiles nods jerkily. "Yesssssss, just like that," he groans, pulling Derek's
head down so he can kiss him, fingers curling in black locks. Derek tugs his
other piercing while his thumb is still pressed down on the other. Stiles's
mouth falls open on a silent, muffled gasp which gives the alpha enough time to
sneak his tongue in, taking the kiss to the next level. In that time Stiles
gets his hands under Derek's shirt, fingers searching out the thing that makes
the alpha lose control. When he finds it he rolls it around in-between his
fingers, pressing it down.
His plan works.
Derek pulls away from his lips, bowing his head to draw in a breath that's all
kinds of shallow. Stiles smirks and starts, rubbing the silver metal with the
pad of his thumb, massaging it. The noise this time is a small grunt, which in
Derek language means keep going. So Stiles does just that. He finally manages
to pull Derek's shirt off (well, halfway off), and it's enough to show the full
expanse of strong, hard muscle that makes his mouth water. He leans forward,
licking with his tongue across the alpha's abs, biting down when the muscles
quiver and form enough bulk that he can sink his teeth into them.
"Ngh," Derek grunts. It's another one of his keep going and don't stop signals
and Stiles heeds by it without so much as a pause. He yanks Derek's shirt up
more until the material is bunched up at the alpha's neck, mouth moving up, up,
up and up until he latches onto the nipple ring with his teeth, pulling at it
and making the nipple stretch. He knows that pain play is something that Derek
likes sometimes. He's a werewolf, after all. The response he gets is a
stammered moan of his name and a pair of hips grinding down onto his own.
"God, too many clothes," he mutters, grabbing the hem of Derek's shirt and
pulling the material off and over the alpha's head, chucking it to the side.
With nothing covering the alpha's chest, Stiles moves up to Derek's neck
instead, nipping and sucking trying to suck a hickey that won't just fade away.
Of course, werewolf metabolism makes that impossible, so Stiles starts
basically having a mini eat-out at the wolf's neck, making hickey after hickey
and then watching the red welts disappear before repeating the process all over
again. Derek's reaction is to lean down with arms bracketing Stiles's head,
flattening his body against Stiles's own before rocking his hips forward
steadily.
Stiles scrabbles his hands down to Derek's jeans, fiddling with the zipper with
one and using the other to hastily pull them down the alpha's legs. They get
down to mid-thigh before Derek lifts up his lower body, supporting his weight
with his forearms (like wow, Stiles need to learn how to do that), so that
Stiles can remove the jeans completely. When the jeans are off Stiles can see
just how hard Derek is. The bulge in the alpha's boxers is huge and there's
already a dark, wet stain from where his dick is leaking pre-come.
"Fuck, dude, you're like," he moves forward, leaning down so his face is right
next to the alpha's clothed cock, mouthing at the wet set spot where the head's
leaking, "sohot." He can taste the distinct, salty yet sweet taste of Derek's
come and it's just awesome. Especially when Derek bites back a stifled moan,
hips twitching.
"Pants," he growls. "Stiles, take your pants off."
"Wh—oh." Stiles realises he's still got his jeans on, and apparently, his dick
does too because he can feel it pressing insistently at the zipper. He wriggles
his tongue across the bulge in Derek's pants again, giving him something to
focus on while he quickly wrestles his own jeans off his hips. It takes a bit,
but eventually he succeeds and he clicks his tongue in joy. (The resulting moan
from Derek just makes it even better.)
As soon as his pants are off Derek's already pushing him into the mattress,
mouth slotting against his own in perfect tandem to the hands that are brushing
up his sides. He gasps when Derek's fingers grip his hip bones, pulling their
lower bodies together so they can rut against each other. The press of Derek's
cock against his own sparks a hot rush of something deep inside him, and he
finds himself wrapping his legs around the alpha's waist, getting their bodies
closer together for more friction so he can grind up harder.
"Der—Derek, ah, if I'm not, shit, completely naked soon I'm gonna explode," he
pants. The response is immediate and there's firm, calloused hands freeing him
of his boxers. "You—fuck, you too," he adds as Derek presses his hips up
against him again. He hears Derek huff in annoyance but just like he'd
commanded, soon there's another pair of boxers flying across the room.
"Okay, no more clothes," Derek says airily and Stiles bites back a laugh at the
frown the alpha's wearing on his face. It suits him so much, it's uncanny.
Stiles just wants to pinch his cheeks and coo at the furrow in his eyebrows.
"Yeah, I can see that," he teases, nibbling lightly at Derek's neck. "Which
means, now we can get to fun stuff." He sucks another hickey into the alpha's
skin, sadly watching it fade away. "Though, it'd be way cooler if your super
werewolf healing abilities backed it down a notch," he grumbles.
Derek chuckles. "I can get it to heal slower, if that's what you want."
Stiles's eyes widen and he grins. "Yeah? You can do that?"
"Mm." Derek nods. "My healing abilities can be controlled. Not completely, but
I can hold off the process for a short period of time if I want."
"Well then, I suggest you do that," he smirks, biting hard on Derek's neck,
right over the known sensitive spot that's under the alpha's jawline. "Because
you're going to want to keep these for a while."
Derek groans, a low and throaty sound, before he's rolling their bodies over so
that Stiles is on top and sitting on his hip. Then, in a rough whisper he says,
"I want you to ride me."
Stiles thinks he deserves infinite cookie points for not fainting dramatically
at those words… he swoons absolutely manly instead. "I, um, o-okay," he manages
weakly.
"Everything you need is in that draw there," Derek says, like since Stiles
being flustered is such a normal occurrence it doesn't need to be paid any
attention, jerking his head slightly to the left over to where the bedside
table is.
Stiles gulps, nods, and (with flailing limbs, since when does he ever do
anything without flailing?) reaches over to open the draw and take out a bottle
of lube. No condoms. But, Stiles understands. Derek being a werewolf and all,
he won't catch anything. He closes the draw, about to move back, when he feels
himself slowly slipping off the bed. He yelps, legs getting tangled in the
sheets and he's sure he's going to fall out of bed when there's suddenly a hand
gripping him firmly by the arm and hauling him back just in the nick of time.
"Careful. We don't want to break anything just yet," Derek admonishes softly,
making Stiles blush.
"Heh, yeah. Sorry." He pops the lid off the lube, about to 'get to work' when
Derek stops him by taking it off him. He splutters. "Dude!"
"Sorry," Derek says sheepishly. "Is it okay if I do the honours?"
Again, serious cookie points are in order for Stiles Stilinski. "Uh… um, yeah,
sure. Go right ahe—eeaahhh." Yep, and now they're gone.
Derek's already pressed a lube slicked finger into him, breaching inner muscles
that flutter helplessly against the intrusion of something they can't take.
It's painful, oh so very painful, and Stiles bites on his tongue to stop from
crying out. He fails a bit at that ('course he does), and ends up letting out a
small whimper. Instantly, Derek shushes him quietly and with pad of his finger,
rubs around in small circles, trying to get him to loosen up without hurting
him too much. It helps a little but there's still that burning sensation as
Derek adds another finger, stretching him out.
"Fuck," he curses. "Shit, that hurts."
"It'll get better," Derek assures gently, crooking his fingers then nudging
them against the walls of muscle that's built up around them. True to Derek's
words, it does start to feel better. Eventually. For a while it still
motherfucking hurts while Derek scissors and crooks his fingers deeper, trying
to open him up. But then, then Derek's finger hits something that just makes
all the pain worthwhile.
"Oh my God, holy fuck… what… was… that," he gasps, panting, as every fine
molecule in his body stands on end in pleasure.
"What, that?" Derek presses his finger on it again and there's sparks of oh
holy God,fuckthis feels good shooting through his whole body.
"Yes, oh my fuck,shit, that!" he moans, hips bucking forward. Derek just
smirks, rubbing the pads of both fingers against the small nub. Everything is
just starting to blackout for Stiles, but in a very, very good way.
"It's your prostate." And then Derek's fucking abusing it with his fingers.
"It's a sweet spot. We all have one. Though it seems like yours is a little
more sensitive than normal." He smiles with all teeth, and fuck, Stiles wants
to die from that smile and this feeling.
"Ahhh, fucking God," he groans, hips jerking as he tilts his head back to gasp
very unmanly.
"Think you're ready to go yet?" Derek teases, crooking and then
pressing again like he could do this all fucking day. Probably could, Stiles
thinks in bittersweet irony.
"Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, a billion times yes!" he sobs, choking on a cry when
Derek slips his fingers out and lines the head of his dick up to his entrance,
smearing pre-come against his hole. "God, Derek, just put it in. I'm ready!"
"You sure? I'm pretty big. Compared to my two fingers, this is going to be a
big stretch," Derek warns.
Stiles rolls his eyes. "Yes, I'm sure. Dude, I've got this far, what makes you
think I'm gonna end it before I even get to the best part?"
Derek gives him a firm, scolding glare before he sighs. "All right," he says.
"But you have to tell me if I'm hurting you, okay?"
"Okay, okay! Just hurry up!" Stiles lifts his hips up, eagerly impatient.
Derek gives him a you really are an idiot look, before he's pushing in slowly.
Derek was right when he'd said that it would be a big stretch. Fuck, just the
head feels like there's a whole dick inside him. It burns, stretching him out
further and further, and his thighs are trembling from the energy of holding
himself up so Derek can slip in. He can't help but whimper when his legs give
way and he sinks all the way down on the alpha's cock. He feels so fucking
full, God, and his muscles are fluttering, adapting to the intrusion at their
own pace.
"You okay?" Derek asks, but it sounds raspy and breathless, more like a grunt,
as his jaw ticks and eyebrows furrow. Stiles can feel his dick twitching inside
him.
"Y-Yeah, just… just gimme a minute." He twists his hips, wincing when the head
prods determinedly inside him, scraping over sensitive muscles. He sits there
for a few minutes and when he's sure he's adjusted enough he shifts his hips.
Pleasantly, there's no pain. "Okay, yeah, I'm good. Could I maybe, start
slowly? Just for now," he asks.
"Of course," Derek says smoothly, nodding. Stiles swallows, remembering what
he'd seen while watching porn, how the guy steadied his hands on his partner's
chest before pushing up. He closes his eyes, doing just that, and when he drops
back down he can't help but gasp, eyes flying open and hips jerking as Derek's
cock scrapes something inside him, the same thing from before, the… prostate?
"Fuck, Stiles, already?" Derek groans. Stiles is about to apologise for ruining
the experience (is finding the prostate this soon ruining the experience?) but
all words die on his tongue when he sees the look on the alpha's face. "How did
you—" He breaks off on another groan when Stiles pushes up, then drops down
again.
"Um, ah, oh fuck, I have… no idea, dude. Oh, maybe it's, fuck, born technique?"
he moans. Derek raises an eyebrow in an amused way. "Shit, don't do that,
s'distracting," Stiles gasps. Derek just shrugs his shoulders like such a
fucking innocent, smirking smugly. He groans though, and closes his eyes as his
head falls back against the pillow, chest heaving when Stiles gets into it
more, lifting up and dropping down in quick succession.
"God, fuck, Stiles I thought you wanted to take it slow," he growls. Stiles
just grins, arching his back and panting with abandon, moving up and down, pace
hastening, on the alpha's cock. When Derek grips his hips, guiding his
movements, everything just feels mind-blowingly perfect. The guy has
fuckin' finesse, okay?
"Ha, s-since when do you know me to, ahhhh, take things slow?" he says with
bated breath. Derek seems to take that as a justified answer because the next
thing Stiles knows, Derek's hips start thrusting up into him with reckless
abandon, the length of his cock so fulfilling that the strings of moans and
obscenities that leave his lips are just not enough to suit the totally
fucking awesome in this moment.
"D-D—Der, could, fuck,fuck,fuck, could y—" He gasps, groans whiningly, when
Derek seems to understand. The alpha wraps a hand around his cock, grip firm
and tight as each tug draws him ever so closer to the pure bliss of release.
Derek's faring pretty much the same way as him, if the deep grunts and shallow
husky moans that escape his mouth are giving any hints. His eyes are glazed,
taken over with lust and something else that Stiles can't quite fathom
but fuck, it's hot. When he lifts again, about to drop down, Derek's gripping
his hips tightly, panting breathlessly.
"I'm not gonna last much longer," he says, voice high and shaken. "So if you
want this to go out in a bang, I suggest you start on that soon."
Stiles was… Stiles was not expecting that. He thought that he'd be the one
holding up the white flag and surrendering first, but apparently, the tables
have turned in a very interesting way.
"Yeah?" he grins. "You want me to do that? Finish it off with a big BOOM!"
Derek chuckles, but it's weak and breathless. "Yeah, go right ahead."
Oh. Well, now.
"Okey-dokey, sourwolf. One dynamite sexy times orgasm finale
comin' riiiiight up!"
Stiles finds it super overly adorable when he gets Derek to choke on a half-
laugh and half-moan when he slams down, moving his hips in a full-circled twist
that gets the alpha's cock deeper, rubbing over his prostate in a hot drag of
delicious tingles and sparks that leave his muscles clenching tightly,
squeezing around the throbbing member inside him.
"Stiles," Derek growls. "M'close."
"Not a problem at all," he groans. "'Cause me too."
"Still, ahh, got th-that big finish planned?" Derek teases, voice rough and
syllables stammered.
Stiles doesn't answer that with a 'proper' answer, per se. His reply is to lift
himself fully off of Derek's cock, before full on slamming back down, harder
than last time with enough force to have all the air in his lungs expelled in a
high, keening moan. Understanding that this is it, the big finish, Derek's hips
snap up wildly, all control lost. The alpha's dick totally obliterates his
prostate with each thrust, scraping over it countless times before everything
finally just stops… and then the loudest, dirtiest, sexiest mewl of all time
resonates from Derek's chest, and there's come pulsing inside him, filling him
up as the alpha below him gasps and shudders.
And that's it for him too.
He comes with a choked cry, hips jerking and dick spasming as come splatters in
thick white ropes over Derek's chest.
It takes a few minutes for either of them to be able to speak, but when the
time comes, it's Stiles who does first.
"Sooooo, I'm guessing me getting the nipple piercings was a good idea?"
Stiles feels giddy when Derek just snorts, pulling him close and laughing.
"No, it was an awesome idea." 
End Notes
     You liked it, give kudos? :)
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