Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/683972.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Choose_Not_To_Use_Archive_Warnings, Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Teen_Wolf_(TV)
  Relationship:
      Derek_Hale/Stiles_Stilinski
  Character:
      Derek_Hale, Stiles_Stilinski
  Additional Tags:
      Alternate_Universe, Plot_What_Plot/Porn_Without_Plot, Hybrids,
      Bestiality, Boypussy, Riding, Scenting, This_oneshot_is_actually_really
      self_indulgent_and_a_kinks_galore_sort_of_thing_you've_been_warned
  Stats:
      Published: 2013-02-15 Words: 2803
****** let's take off tonight, wanna hear you scream ******
by colferstilinski
Summary
     Stiles kind of loves that he gets to share something extraordinary in
     common with Derek. Physically.
Notes
     P/s: This is unbeta'd and definitely not proof-read, so, yeah...
     Basically boypussy strafes away from all transgendered topics. Stiles
     is /not/ biologically female and identifies himself as a male. He /
     is/ a dude who just so happens to have biological female parts. It's
     all fictitious, there's no such thing in real life. Boypussies also /
     do/ have sub-categories, having just the female genitalia is not the
     only boypussy. There's no right or wrong types of boypussy, if it's
     your kink, it's yours. No harm, no foul. Boypussies include: Male
     with both female/male genitalia. Male with both female/male genitalia
     and also has the prostate/g-spot. Male with both female/male
     genitalia but only has a prostate. Male with both female/male
     genitalia but only has a g-spot. Or male with only female genitalia.
     Or male with female genitalia and prostate.
     Really, anything goes with boypussies. If it gets you all hot and
     bothered in your loins, then you've found your type of boypussy!
See the end of the work for more notes
Stiles kind of loves that he gets to share something extraordinary in common
with Derek. Physically.
See, Derek is a hybrid, he’s a mix of human and wolf—they, hybrids, are
uncommon. It’s not exactly a rarity unlike his, but to witness one in this day
of age is kind of to be marvelled upon. Derek isn’t the poster child for
hybrids, either. His crossbred stature is more…intimaterather than on an
outlook perspective.
They’re mostly below the waist and above the knees, which is where the common
equation falls upon.
Stiles has a rare condition, well, it’s not really a ‘condition’ but the highly
educated doctors who have done tests on him seems to think so, eh—He doesn’t
though, and that’s what counts. Anyway, he has a vagina instead of a dick, and
it’s really no biggie since he doesn’t get the monthly ordeal because
physically, he is a dude.
He just possesses female genitalia instead of well, a male’s. That’s just about
it. It’s awesome, though, the whole multi-orgasms thing that comes with it.
Which circles back to the fact with Derek, because while Stiles has some
‘complex genitalia issues’, Derek has a dick of an animal—hybrid, you see? Some
hybrids are easily recognized by twitchy ears spouting from the sides of their
head, or a tail wedged nicely on their ass crack, Derek has fur for pubes and a
nice, very furry sheathe instead of foreskin.
Their common crotch region factor didn’t really make a difference, pre-sex, of
course. It was just the acknowledgement that their other half is a little
different in the sack, and then there’s the hushed reassurances that they could
be weirdos together, until they finally move on to the let’s have sex now
phase.
Well, even at that, it still didn’t make any difference.
-
“God, look at you.” Stiles murmurs in awe, breathless.
They’re both naked in bed, the last item of clothing thrown onto the granite
floors of Stiles’ bedroom and they’re just drinking each other in. Even though
Stiles has seen Derek stark nude more times he can count with both hands, it
still astonishes him each time.
That the mere fact that Derek is his, has been his for few months now, and that
all of this, the intimacy they’ve shared, are sharing, with each other—It makes
his mind goes into overload. But, physically talking, Derek’s attributes still
has his mouth watering up since like the first time they stripped off all their
clothes, all heady anticipation and raging hormones.
Derek’s skin is nicely bronzed by the unforgiving summer’s sun since he’s been
doing some side construction work with his uncle. He almost wants to ask if he
does his work without clothes on because there are absolutely no tan lines at
all, and it should be unfair that someone this gorgeous gets to receive all the
nicer things in life—like, skin that tans and tones effortlessly.
Stiles get sunburnt even when there’s a downpour. It’s tragically sad.
Derek doesn’t even seem fazed under his thick scrutiny, unlike the first few
times when they fooled around and he kept ducking and hiding under the covers,
nope. Now he has his hands nicely tucked under his head against the pillows
while his legs are bent loosely at the knees, giving Stiles ample of space to
leer at his dick openly.
If Stiles accidentally drools, well, there are already tissues at the ready.
Derek is still soft though—never really getting hard all the way until he’s
fully balls deep in Stiles just like dogs and wolves when they’re about to
breed their bitches. Yes, he has done his research. Stiles’ curiosity and
Google are one of the worst combinations to have in the world and he swears one
day, the headquarters at Google Inc. are going to file a lawsuit on him for his
outrageous questions.
Anyway, under Stiles’ heavy gaze, Derek’s cock starts to twitch, just once or
twice, and Stiles lays there, entranced, watching the way his dick starts to
thicken and swell under the furred sheathe until the pinkish tip of his
cockhead peeks out.
“Fuck, that’s hot.” Stiles groans and presses a chaste kiss on his pec. “You’re
hot.”
Derek grunts, acknowledging him that his time for staring is up before he’s
diving nose first into the crook of Stiles’ neck, inhaling him. There’s a light
of flutter of eyelashes against his skin, can almost picture the blissed out
look Derek always his face after he takes that first hit.
“Love it when you smell like this.”
Stiles hums appreciatively, grinning a little smugly. “And how do I smell
like?”
Derek huffs, the vibrations of it tickling against Stiles’ naked chest while
coarse grains of stubble rubs and pricks against his neck. It’s a scenting
thing, well, that’s what Google and Derek told him. Something about imprinting
one’s scent on an individual—a mark.
“Of me, of us, my scent is all over you. In your hair, on your skin, your
pussy, and after we’re done fucking, your insides will smell of me too.”
There’s a low rumble of what Stiles thinks is a hushed growl. “Fuck, I wanna
paint your insides with my come.”
Derek has always pulled out since the first time they started having sex. It
was something that they’ve agreed on without really discussing since there was
the whole deal about hybrids knotting and how condoms don’t fit nicely on his
dick, or you know, the eventual mess.
“Yes,” Stiles agrees, albeit too fast but whatever. “I want you to. This time,
don’t—don’t pull out.”
Derek’s nose flares and in a blink of an eye, he’s crowding on top of Stiles,
knees tucked at the sides of Stiles’ hips as he nips at the thin skin behind
his ear, laving it with his tongue to soothe when the skin breaks and starts to
colour against his teeth.
Stiles is writhing under him, back arching, and fingers squabbling for skin to
hold, to sink his blunt nails and drag until it leaves a trail of red. Another
great thing about being with hybrids is that their pain endurance levels are
much better than a normal human can take.
“You’re sure?” Derek finally says, panting, and Stiles all but whimpers at the
loss of contact. “I’ve never—you know, came inside, and there’s the whole—”
“Where your dick is gonna swell up and lock inside me?” Stiles finishes for him
meekly. “Already knew that and yes, Derek, I want it. I want you to come inside
me and plug that shit inside me for thirty minutes until I’m sore and leaking
with your man juice.”
Derek grimaces, eyebrows pinching. “Man juice? Really?”
“Wolf juice?” Stiles teases, eyebrows waggling. “Well, whichever, I want your
jizz.”
“Christ, I can’t handle you.” Derek groans and he crashes his lips against
Stiles, moaning into the kiss with a deep rumble in his chest. His hands
flutters to Stiles’ pelvis, thumbs tracing on hipbones with a fleeting touch
before they cup his sex, massaging his pubic mound while his fingers lazily
dips into the folds of his lips.
He’s wet, he knows it, feels the moisture gathering at his entrance and
smearing on the insides of his thighs. Or, you know, the tell-tale of how
obscene the noises his pussy and Derek’s fingers are making that rings in his
buzzing ears.
“I’m ready, c’mon.” Stiles urges, impatient and cheeks flushed.
There’s a slip and slide of fingers as they circle on his clit, pinching and
flattening with rough fingertips before they back down to his opening, lightly
scritching with blunt nails against his pussy lips.
Derek presses two fingers in, knuckle deep, without warning and Stiles chokes
out a broken groan. The fullness is satisfying, familiar, but it’s not really
what he wants right now. He wants a good fucking session that leaves him
keening for air, pulsating in his core.
“Want you inside me since twenty minutes ago, fuck,please. Oh—shit! Do that
again.”
Derek smirks against his cheek, licking up the beads of sweat slowly gathering
at his sideburn before he does it again, a gentle twist of his wrist and
circles his fingers deep inside him. Stiles moans like how the girls do in
porn, humiliatingly loud and about seven hells outrageous, as he bucks his hips
into Derek’s hand, urging for more.
Derek’s breathing roughens up, laboured and hot against his shoulder, and
Stiles glimpses down only to see he’s half hard, about four inches of his cock
is unsheathed, swollen with blood and sheened with blue-green veins. There’s
also the light tickle of soft furs of Derek’s sheathe against his abdomen but
he’s too turned on to giggle at the sensation.
“C’mon,” Stiles whines and decides to take matter in his hand when Derek huffs
at him, admonishing him to be patient.
He reaches down to grip the base of Derek’s cock with an expert hand, doing
things just the way Derek likes it after countless of experiments, twisting and
palming it in even pacing. There’s a dull pulsing throb against his sweaty palm
from where Derek’s cock starts to react, feels him lengthen and thicken in his
hand before he’s pushing himself up from the bed until Derek’s crotch is
against his.
He juts his hips up a little, arching them as he gazes down to watch the sharp
tip of Derek’s cock slide against the folds of his vagina, slicking his dick up
with his wetness before he lines it at his entrance.
“Fuck me,” Stiles says, he’s not even asking at this point, and there’s a
challenging tone in his words, leaning more towards mocking.
Derek growls and snaps his hips front, his cock plunging deep into Stiles and
sheathing himself until his balls smack against his ass. Stiles chokes on a
moan, digging his heel into Derek’s ass and holding him there, hands scrabbling
onto shoulders as he takes the pressure of being filled.
When Stiles finally coos down into a pitiful whimper, Derek takes that as a
sign and pulls back a little, a few inches before he snaps his hips front
again, chasing his heat.
“Fuck, you’re so tight. How are you still this tight, god—” Derek snarls and
his voice sounds like it has been wrung out from his lungs, hoarse and deep.
“God, this pussy is all mine, wet and hot—mine to take, fuck and use and spoil
it until nobody else wants to slide their cock inside.”
“It’s yours,” Stiles whines and he’s gasping in shock when Derek starts to
swell inside him, the beginning of his knot catching at the rim of his entrance
and lengthening each time he drawls his cock out and then shoves it straight
inside him again.
He feels wrecked. Hisvagina is wrecked.
“Always been yours since the first day I sat beside you in AP English, oh
fuck—Deeper, shit.” Stiles pants out, his voice is cracking and there are tears
welling in his eyes from how good it is, to just take, take, take and let Derek
fuck his brains out. “Went home that first day and rubbed myself dry, did you
know that, Der—ek, yes, fuck, fuck, fuck!”
Derek clenches his jaw tight and grabs Stiles by the waist and pulls him from
under, dragging and shoving at him like a doll, limp, until he’s on top of him.
“Tell me more. Did you wet your sheets with your come? God, no wonder I could
smell your pussy the next day. Christ, Stiles.”
Stiles would have been screaming from the abrupt change of angle and position
but he’s so used to Derek manhandling him around while they’re having sex that
it’s natural. He just slips into a coma of ecstasy and presses both his hands
against his chest, swivelling his hips in neat little rotation.
“Oh fuck, I can feel your dick in my stomach.” Stiles cries, head tossing back
and he should be worried that he’s damaging internal organs or something but
he’s pretty sure that if he has internal bleeding, he would have died the first
month they fucked. “Yes, it was the first time I fucked myself with three
fingers. I was so wet, oh fuck, so wet and I neededyouso badly, Derek. I needed
your cock to fuck me until I choked with orgasms.”
Derek’s driving his fully hardened cock deeper now, the angle perfect for
thrusting the entire length and sinking it there without much movement. Stiles
feels the base swelling of his dick probing at his opening and he stretches his
legs further, pulling apart his lips and takes it in, watches the way his pussy
swallows the knot without much difficulty.
He’s so fucking lubed up with his wetness, he could probably have another
finger slicked inside there.
“Stiles,” Derek growls and his hips are frantic now, unsteady and his chest is
heaving with effort as his hips bumps up against his ass, hitting that perfect
spot inside him that has his toes curling up. “Fuck, I’m gonna come soon.”
Stiles reaches down and palms at his clit, rubbing furiously as he gyrates his
hips obscenely on Derek’s dick and he feels him swelling even more inside him,
like as if the mutation of his hybrid dick wasn’t good enough, there’s the
whole knotting situation.
He’s so full, so complete, that he doesn’t even know he’s whimpering in
pleasure from the heavy pressure of it.
Derek sits up and curls his legs under Stiles, catching the back of his neck
with his hands as he holds his head up and captures his lips with such vigorous
passion, thrusting his warm tongue into his mouth, licking at his teeth and the
sides of his mouth. He kisses Stiles until they’re left breathless, panting,
stringy saliva dribbling on their chins.
Derek smacks away the hand that Stiles has clutched onto his clit and helps him
instead. Smart callous fingers that have brought him pleasure in countless ways
possible—everything they’re doing starts to him in a wave.
The way Derek is scrambling with his clit, two fingers circling and flattening
unsteadily while the fine shifting of fur is tickling against his pussy lips.
The constant swivel motion of hips and the way Derek’s sharp cockhead is poking
and smoothing against the areas inside him that leaves him panting, whining—an
absolute incoherent mess in Derek’s arms.
“Oh fuck—fuck, fuck, fuck, there, oh my god! There, Derek, oh shit, I’m—”
Stiles’ screams fall silent and he pulls onto Derek’s hair at the back of his
head, waves of pleasure hitting him from his core, twisting and bleeding under
his skin until he’s limp and loose, soaring with relaxants his body is
producing.
Derek follows up a few seconds later when Stiles starts to settle down from his
orgasm, the walls of his vagina stops pulsing around his cock. Derek hisses out
a warning, it’s nice that he would because from all the porn he watches, not a
lot of dudes do that before he grinds his cock deep in, lodging the knot inside
Stiles as he swells, throbbing, pulsating as he fills him up.
“Shit—” Derek grunts and then he stops moving abruptly, letting his orgasm wash
over as he presses his forehead against Stiles’ shoulder. “There’s a lot, oh,
fuck, Stiles.”
Stiles whines at the pressure, oversensitive from his orgasm, and it sits heavy
at the base of his stomach like he’s eaten too much in one sitting. “Derek,
it’s too much. Dude, shit, it’s starting to hurt.”
“I can’t—” Derek mewls, he fuckingmewls and his shoulders are shaking from the
intensity and he’s still canting his hips a little, like Stiles’ vagina is
trying to milk him dry and he has no control whatsoever. “It’s the first time
I’ve—shit—ever done this, I can’t do anything about it— oh shit.”
Stiles groans in discomfort, the position they’re in is keeping him, them, from
making any minute movements because it hurts now that he’s not chasing after
pleasure, he’s spiralled back into his bedroom, with a hybrid’s knot stretching
about his opening and he’s afraid that might tear the soft skin around it if he
shifts even just a little.
“Derek—I can’t, not anymore.”
“I’m sorry,” Derek sort of whines-moans, kissing his shoulder softly for
comfort as he rubs the bottom of his back. It helps, a little, sort of, but the
pressure is in the front rather than at the back so it’s just a nice touch
rather than a helpful touch. “It’s finishing soon. I’m so sorry, baby.”
“It’s okay,” Stiles whimpers, kissing him chaste on the lips and at his
temples. “You’re doing the clean-up though.”
End Notes
     Wow, look at me hitting all the things the fandom hasn't been brave
     to tackle. Also, fucking weird ending but let's just say it's an open
     ending for more (pfft, excuses).
     Leave a comment if these kinks hit you in the right spot because man,
     I'd really love to scream at your face to be best friends with me.
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