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chase_acow
Title: Knotting Expectations
Fandom – Pairing: Teen Wolf – Derek/Stiles
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: mentions of bestiality, knotting between a werewolf and his boy, dirty talk, a bit of d/s, comeplay, voyeurism, and dub-con. Also, horrible passing reference to a middle aged couple having sex.
Disclaimer: not mine, not real, pure fantasy, not meant to be a guide for werewolf sex
Notes: Written for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
larantula who asked for it in the ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
teenwolfkink meme. This is the first time I've actually claimed knotting fic with my realest of fake names. Spoilers for the finale but completely AU. No beta, so please feel free to point out any of my screwups.
Summary: Stiles gets an eyeful and suddenly getting up close and personal to a werewolf is all he can think of.
It was a horrible breach of privacy. Totally. And Stiles felt bad about it. Really.
Scott had asked him to keep watch from the empty locker room after lacrosse practice so he could have a little alone time before he went to pick Allison up for a date. It wouldn't have been a big deal except that Coach came through unexpectedly. Stiles retreated into the damp showers so he wouldn't get another lecture about the importance of actually paying attention in class instead of doodling stick figures of anvils and pianos dropping on a certain grumpy unnamed Alpha werewolf whose last name may or may not rhyme with 'gale'.
The air was moist and hot, sticking to his skin. He pulled the collar of his t-shirt away from his neck and tried to take a deep breath. As soon as Coach finished blustering through, Stiles became aware of closer, much more intimate sounds. Every few seconds he heard a gasp and then the rhythmic slide of flesh on flesh.
He definitely didn't perv on his own best friend, but hell, he was just as curious as the next guy. Stiles quietly crouched and inched closer until he could peer around the separating tile wall. Through the steam, he could make out Scott's outline and immediately saw that he was wolfed out. The dim lighting glinted off the fangs in his open mouth. He frowned and glanced down to see that while Scott's arms were hairier than usual, he didn't have those viciously thick claws anywhere near Little!Scott.
Then Stiles got a good look at Little!Scott. He wasn't an expert or anything, but he'd swear Scott had one bump too many down there.
It didn't look that much different from the last time Stiles had accidently gotten an eyeful. That time it had been a genuine accident and before Scott had come down with his furry little problem. He might have compared a little, but that was fine, it's what dudes did. He and Scott had both been about average, maybe Scott was a bit longer and Stiles a bit thicker, but Scott absolutely had not had a huge fucking knot at the base of his dick.
The K-9 Unit at the sheriff's station had a great big German Shepherd who loved to sleep on his back with his legs stretched out around him. Stiles had asked the deputies once what that big ball was under the shepherd's skin on his belly. They'd turned bright red and quickly hustled him out of the full waiting room and into his dad's office. He dad had stuttered through an explanation and made Stiles promise to never bring it up again.
Scott moaned louder, jerking his dick faster with one hand while he curled the other around his knot and squeezed hard. He threw his head back when he came, rope after rope of thick come spurting out and eventually sliding down the drain.
Stiles barely remembered to close his mouth and scuttle back to the locker room before Scott turned around and caught him with his hand on his dick.
Before the internet, researching things like naughty sexual fetishes must have really sucked hard. He'd gone through a whole bottle of eye drops staying up late surfing free clip sites, image galleries, the Nifty Archive, and sex toy shops. Not that he'd ever be able to order anything and have that discretely wrapped box delivered to his house. It was all he could think about, all he dreamed about.
Even if he wasn't as out and dating guys as Danny was, Stiles had figured out he might be a little gay years ago. Actually, he was self aware enough to realize he'd probably fall into the omnisexual category, especially given the direction he'd recently run through. Though, he didn't have any direct experience to support his hypothesis.
So now the last thing he thought about at night and the first thing in the morning was what it would feel like taking a knotted dick up his ass.
Asking Scott was out of the question. He was dating Allison and even then, he couldn't imagine that awkward conversation ending anywhere good. No way was he going anywhere near Jackson with this, and last he knew Lydia didn't have a dick. That only left the closest thing to an arch nemesis he had.
Derek.
Funny, being the Alpha really hadn't changed Derek that much. Maybe he was a little grumpier, but when it came to Stiles, he was the same scary jackass he'd always been. He'd managed to make a deal to protect his new pack with the hunter's council as long as Argents also stayed behind to watch them as payment for Kate's crime. It was an uneasy truce, but at least Scott got to keep dating Allison. Also, Stiles got to keep poking Derek with a stick without worry about dying a horrible death because papa!Argent just itched to shoot a quiver of arrows into the wolves if even one of them put a paw out of line.
"Hey, wolfie! I brought pizza!" he yelled, kicking open the rickety front door of the Hale house. After they'd cleared Derek for the murders for the murders he hadn't actually committed, he'd moved back into the burned down husk of his family home and started rebuilding.
Derek stuck his head around the corner with sawdust covering his flattened hair. His muscle shirt might have been white at one point, but now it was dingy gray with dust and colored yellow with old sweat stains. "If you keep calling me 'wolfie', I'm going to shove my fist down your throat and rip out your lungs," he promised.
"Yeah, yeah," Stiles said, waving the threat away. By necessity, Derek was more bark than bite, and he'd quickly found out food would always get his foot in the door. He set the box down and opened it, taking a slice of ham and pineapple. "I told them to just kill a pig and put it on your half. Why aren't your minions here helping?"
"They're too busy shopping, tanning, and getting a pedicure," Derek said, folding two pieces in half and shoving it in his mouth.
Stiles snorted, "I'm afraid to ask which one is doing what."
"Yeah," Derek said, licking sauce off his lips. "Next time I make a pack, remind me not to pick three of the four most idiotic teenagers I can find. What are you doing here, anyway? Is Scott's mom and your dad making out in your living room again?"
"No, well yes," Stiles corrected himself. The idea of his dad and Scott's mom still freaked him out. The first time he'd caught them, he'd completely freaked out and Scott and Derek had finally caught up with him in a dive café across the county line. It was a little better now, they seemed happy, and he hadn't seen his dad smile so much in years. "But can't I just drop by because I missed you? You know, you could just change me, and then I'd be strong enough to swing that sledgehammer for you."
Derek stared at him, chewing thoughtfully.
Stiles took it as a win and clapped his hands, rubbing them together. "So!" he said brightly, "What do you need help with?"
"I'm rebuilding the wall between the living room and kitchen before the upstairs bedroom becomes a downstairs bedroom," Derek said, sighing.
"Great," Stiles turned his hat around backwards. "I'll bet you're awesome at nailing things."
Derek rolled his eyes but gestured Stiles in and put him to work sanding the drywall on the other side of the living room. He worked for about twenty minutes before he turned the machine off, and took off his protective gear to watch Derek work. Using a hammer, he knocked together a group of two by fours, making their edges even. The muscles in his shoulders shifted constantly, and his jeans slipped down his hips showing off the black elastic of his boxers.
He'd always found Derek sexy in theory, but now that he had more of an idea what Derek was packing in his pants, testing the waters was finally worth the risk of Derek clawing his throat open.
Clearing his throat, Stiles asked, "Have you figured out the running water in here yet?"
"Shut up and get back to work."
"I mean, I enjoy your manly musk. I was just curious. If you decided to make tea or something, you'd need water," Stiles said, only half imaging what Derek would look like with water sluicing down his chest.
Derek finally turned around and glared, "I don't drink tea, and I have a pump out back until I start on the plumbing in here."
"Are you going for traditional pipes?" Stiles asked, picking up a wrench and stroking down the shaft. "Because, I hear that some people like something new and different."
"Stop talking."
"As long as their plumbing things are compatible, I think it's admirable that people branch out," Stiles continued.
"Last chance."
"Plumbing is a very personal choice. I've been thinking about trying something new out myself. I was kinda wondering if you'd be interested in-"
A flash of movement and Derek's snarl warned him in time to fall on his knees. Stiles blinked, almost swallowing his tongue as he stared across the room at Derek, who suddenly looked more amused than dangerous. He stood carefully and glanced up. The handle of the hammer protruded out of the drywall, still quivering from impact, and barely an inch over Stiles' head.
"You know, this might go faster if you concentrated on the holes you already had access to."
The door had barely slammed behind him when Stiles started his Jeep and slammed it into reverse. Some people just didn't get innuendo.
Stiles dropped his backpack just inside his door and rolled his head around on his shoulders. So far, it had been the worst Friday since ever. He'd survived two tests, one presentation, and thirty minutes of suicide drills and all he wanted to do for the rest of the weekend was sleep, eat, and see how much of a cucumber he could stick up his ass. Since the Derek bust, it was the only thing he could think of to maybe scratch his itch.
"Interesting browser history, Stiles."
"Holy, fuck," Stiles swore, sure he actually felt his heart stop in his chest as he crashed back into his shut door.
"Stiles! You okay?" his dad yelled from down the hallway.
It took a couple of tries to work up enough spit to swallow. Derek sat at the computer desk with one of Stiles' favorite websites up. Even from his position near the door, he could see that it had been updated. A woman and her Great Dane grinned at him without any clue how truly screwed he was.
"Stiles?"
"Fine, Dad," he finally replied when Derek threw a lacrosse ball that bounced off his head. "I stepped on a tack or something. No blood, I'm fine."
"All right. There's some cash in the usual spot, don't burn the house down. Remember, I'm taking Melissa out for the weekend, so you better not call my cell unless someone is dead or dying!"
Stiles wrinkled his nose at the insinuation and barely kept himself from running after his dad and claiming some sort of imagined emergency to keep him home. The he saw Derek sitting and watching him with a creepy-wide grin stretched across his face.
"They're going to have sex, you know," he taunted once they heard the front door slam and his dad drive away. "Hot, sweaty, desperate, middle-aged sex in the missionary position."
"Oh my God!" Stiles covered his ears with his hands and started humming the theme song to Wizards of Waverly Place as loud as he could to drown out Derek's blasphemy.
A second later, Derek had him flattened against the door and yanked his arms up over his head. He held both wrists in one hand and made Stiles look at him with the other. "What about you?" he asked, showing the points of his canines. "You got big plans this weekend. Gonna invite the neighbor's Doberman over for some special time?"
"No," Stiles shook his head, struggling to get his hands free until he realized how much his feeble attempts were amusing Derek.
"What am I supposed to think?" Derek asked, speaking quietly as he leaned his body into Stiles and brushing his lips against Stiles' ear. "I came over to use your computer to order parts from the hardware store and stumbled into your porn history. You're a very naughty boy, beating off to man's best friend."
Stiles shuddered, utterly humiliated and indecently turned on by the timber in Derek's voice. He bit his lip and tried to explain, "No, I'm not… It's not… I don't-"
"You don't get hot thinking about getting on your hands and knees and taking it up the ass from a mutt?"
"It's not," Stiles tried, and then gasped when Derek pushed his nose down Stiles' neck. "It isn't the dog, it's the knot."
Derek blew out a hot gusty breath across Stiles' throat. "Who have you been spying on?" he asked, pawing down Stiles' side to his hip.
"I saw Scott, but I swear I didn't mean to, and then I was curious, but it wasn't like I could ask, so I started surfing the internet and thought it was hot, so I tried dropping hints and then you threw a hammer at my head," Stiles rambled, trying not to pause too long between words in case Derek decided to screw the hunters and rip his throat out anyway.
"Christ," Derek said, and squeezed Stiles' wrist until the bones moved. He took a deep breath and stepped back, letting Stiles rub blood back into his fingers, while he took off his jacket and tossed his t-shirt across the room. "Okay. Unzip my jeans."
He knew he looked like a fish caught in the bottom of a boat, but Stiles' brain had suddenly short-circuited and he thought he heard Derek tell him to unzip his pants. "What?" he asked, hoping that any moment he'd wake up.
"Get on your knees and take out my cock," Derek said slowly, pausing between every word. He shrugged when Stiles just stared at him. "You're curious and want to get fucked. I'll fuck you. It's not like I care enough right now to find someone better."
Ashton Kutcher had to be hiding under his bed. This was getting punk'd if ever there was a punk. Derek was just waiting for Stiles to do something embarrassing before falling out the window laughing and promising to torture him for the rest of his probably still short life.
"I'm not going to tell you again, Stiles."
Stiles crashed to the floor and then walked on bruised knees until he made it into arm's reach of Derek. With shaking hands, he flicked open the button, still half expecting Derek to swat him like a fly. Instead, Derek grunted softly and jerked his hips slightly. Stiles pulled the zipper down over Derek's hot dick. He shuffled forward until his knees were between Derek's feet, as he tugged the jeans out of the way.
His mouth watered just looking at the bulge nestled between Derek's legs. He breathed in the musk that all the wolves smelled like, except this was ten times stronger concentrated right in front of Stiles' face. As he watched, Derek shifted and the bulge grew, leaning slightly to the right. He licked his lips and glanced up, hoping for direction, but Derek remained silent.
Curling his fingers under the elastic of Derek's boxers, Stiles slowly inched them down, exposing the sharp cut of Derek's hipbones. When he pulled them low enough, he made sure to pull the band out and under Derek's cock. It was big already, hanging low and jutting straight out at his face. It flushed dark red, the tip already leaking, and at the base, a thicker band of skin circled the shaft in front of heavy balls.
"You ever suck cock before?" Derek asked, settling a big, warm hand on the back of Stiles' head. He looked satisfied at Stiles' denial and continued, "This is one place to keep your teeth to yourself."
Stiles steadied himself with his hands on Derek's thighs as he opened his mouth to the tip. The skin tasted warm and clean. He struggled to make sure his teeth stayed covered, especially when Derek pushed in another inch. Derek held his head still, and dragged his thumbs down into Stiles' hallowed cheeks. He let his eyes flutter shut as Derek thrust into his mouth, deeper every few seconds and left a bitter coating over Stiles' tongue.
He breathed through his nose, trying not to panic when Derek pushed in deeper and paused there. Stiles blinked, moisture gathering in the corners of his eyes from the stretch in his jaw and the mass in his mouth. Derek quirked his head, jerking his hips in short thrusts that stayed in Stiles' mouth without giving him any relief. Derek's hands kept Stiles from pushing away until he finally allowed it.
Swallowing convulsively and panting for breath, Stiles could barely believe how much bigger Derek's cock was after only a few minutes. His knot had doubled in size, and suddenly Stiles wasn't sure this was such a good idea. Something about his indecision must have showed on his face because Derek sneered and took his cock in hand.
"It's too late to back out now," he said, brushing his spit-slick cock over Stiles' cheekbones. He lifted it and pressed his knot against Stiles' mouth. "This is what you wanted, isn't it?"
The knot was harder than the shaft, solid and hot. Stiles trailed his lips over it, licking and kissing until he heard Derek groan above him. He flicked his eyes up, freezing when he realized Derek's eyes were glowing red. "I'm in over my head," he said suddenly, the words coming out of nowhere.
Derek laughed, a gruff sound that reminded Stiles of claws raking across cement. "You finally figure that out?" he taunted, stepping away from Stiles who unconsciously swayed forward. "Take your clothes off. Don't get up."
It took Stiles a couple of tries to get his belt undone, but then he quickly shoved his jeans and boxers down past his ass. He sat down and kicked them off, using his toes to flick his socks across the room. He pulled his shirt over his head and cupped his aching, neglected cock.
"Don't bother," Derek said, shoving Stiles' hand away with his foot. He'd finished taking off his boots and pants, and stood naked with his arms crossed over his chest. A soft dusting of dark hair covered his arms, groin, and legs. The sunlight streaming through the window bronzed his skin, reflecting in his eyes. "Do you have any lube? Lotion?"
"There's a tube in the nightstand," Stiles answered, blushing furiously at the memory of buying lube from old Mr. Walker in the drugstore. "Derek, I don't… I haven't-"
"Get on your hands and knees," Derek interrupted, walking over to the bed. He waited until Stiles complied and then tossed a pillow in front of him and grabbed the tube and knelt behind Stiles. "This is probably going to hurt. A lot."
Stiles fisted his hands and let his head hang under his shoulders. While he probably jerked off twenty times this week thinking about this, now that Derek was actually spreading him open and touching his hole, he was totally freaked. "Maybe, we should call this off?" he offered, shifting his weight as a cold slick finger barely pushed against his ass. "We'll laugh about this later."
"In your dreams," Derek said, grabbing and holding Stiles' hip in case he was stupid enough to try to run. "I'm going to fuck you until the only word you can remember is my name."
"Someone has an awfully high opinion of hims- holy shit," Stiles curled into himself as Derek pushed two fingers straight into him
He ass shuddered and he tried to yank away, but he didn't have anywhere to go. If felt wrong and amazing at the same time. He felt overheated, like he'd catch fire at any second and burn away to nothing. After a few seconds, he managed to relax and realize Derek was urging him to move into the stretch.
"You're lucky the full moon was a week ago," Derek said, quickly twisting his fingers and finding the bump that made Stiles see stars. "I wish I could just fuck you open and lick your tears up later. You look too good with a hand-shaped bruise on your neck."
Stiles groaned, imagining Derek actually doing it. He felt his dick jump at the image and reached down to squeeze himself, only to get his hand knocked away again. It put him off balance enough to land on his elbows, arching his ass high in the air. His cheek scraped across the carpet as Derek instantly got rougher, adding a finger and brutally forcing him to stretch around them.
Sweat dripped down his nose stinging his eyes, his body instantly telling him it was too much, too fast. His muscles trembled and still felt like rubber from the suicides in gym class. He knew Derek couldn't care less about Stiles' comfort, and for a split second it reminded him of some of the stories he'd read. People fucked by animals who couldn't give a damn if the person under them got off. He wondered if Derek always acted like that, or if it was just because Stiles was the one on the floor.
"Don't tense up, it'll make it hurt more."
Derek didn't give Stiles the chance to figure out what he meant before something much bigger than three fingers started splitting him open. He clawed at the carpet trying to get away, but Derek held him still and pushed his dick in until pain blossomed in Stiles head and he knew he'd die if it didn't stop.
"Breathe. Goddamn it, Stiles, just breathe and stop being such a pussy."
Stiles sucked in a breath finally and eased some of the ache. He felt Derek rub circles in the small of his back and pick him up until Stiles could get his hands under him again. Slowly, he got used to Derek's short jabs in and out until his muscles relaxed until he could enjoy the bump and grind into his ass.
"See, that's not so bad, is it?" Derek asked a little breathlessly, moving one hand from hip to the top part of Stiles' shoulder to get a better grip.
"Is that it?" Stiles asked, since after over sixteen years on Earth, he still hadn't figured out that sometimes it was better to just shut up. "I don't see what's so special about that."
Derek leaned over him and nipped the back of his neck against his hairline. "I haven't even started yet," he promised, lengthening the push of his hips into Stiles body.
Stiles whimpered when he felt something even bigger push at the rim to his ass trying to get in. There was no way. Absolutely no fucking way Derek's knot was ever going to fit, and Stiles didn't want his abnormally kinky death splashed all over the headlines of the local gossip rag. Derek's thrust got wilder until he nearly knocked Stiles over again and they inched across the floor while Derek practically tried to climb inside.
"On three," Derek whispered, pausing in his frenzy so Stiles could hear him. "On three, I'll push it in. Relax."
"Derek, wait," Stiles begged, his throat raw already. He pulled at the iron grip Derek had on him, trying to wiggle away. "I can't, please. I can't."
"You're going to," Derek said, holding Stiles against his chest for a second before he took his weight back on his knees. "One."
Stiles went limp for just a heartbeat, preparing to fight harder when Derek got to three, but he never got the chance. Derek shoved his hips forward immediately, his growl almost drowning out Stiles' cry as his knot slipped inside. They were pressed flush against each other, Derek's balls slapping across his thighs.
It hurt, it ached, it burned, and Stiles didn't know how anyone could possibly do this and enjoy it. Derek kept flexing his hips, but he couldn't thrust very far inside Stiles anymore, instead he moved Stiles entire body and Stiles was helpless to do anything but whimper and try to anticipate Derek's motions. The knot felt like it was as big as his fist, sitting just inside while the rest of Derek's cock split him open up to his chest.
Derek's fingers moved constantly, raking down his back and over his belly, pushing into the soft skin there and curling back over his hips again. Every little bit he would scrape with his fingernails and Stiles would wince waiting to be sliced open. Eventually, and despite his better intensions, it started to feel kinda good, and he angled his body so Derek could reach the best spots.
"Do you know why a dog knots?" Derek asked, still circling his hips and making Stiles move with him. "The male knots to keep his seed in his bitch's belly. So she has a better chance to breed his litter of puppies."
"Oh, jeez," Stiles muttered, warmth spreading through his belly, that he could only partially attribute to his freaky side getting turned on by Derek's words. He craned his neck around; Derek's eyes were pale red but his teeth long and pointed out of his open mouth. He looked completely blissed out, flicking his tongue over the edges of his canines.
"I'll fuck you until your belly's swollen and my come leaks out your ass," Derek asked, sounding stoned as he caught Stiles' eyes. "You want my puppies inside you, Stiles?"
The pressure increased, and he remembered how much come Scott had shot out in the shower. All that, and probably more was currently spraying through his guts. The idea of Derek breeding him made him tremble and the words died in his throat. He tried to hide his face in his arm.
"What was that? I couldn't quite hear you."
"Yes! God, yes, you fucker," Stiles panted, wishing he dared to try jerking off again. His dick rubbed up against the wiry hair trailing down from his belly button with every move he made. He was so fucking embarrassed, but the throbbing in his ass matched his racing heartbeat and getting knotted turned out to be everything he wanted it to be.
Derek grunted and stretched out on Stiles, making him lock his elbows to keep them both upright. He nipped and licked along Stiles shoulders, even catching his ear once. One hand pushed on Stiles' lower abdomen, increasing the pressure there and the other finally, finally wrapped around Stiles' dick.
"Derek," Stiles wouldn't have recognized his voice, rusted and halting. His entire world narrowed to Derek's hands and his knot. He managed small jerks forward and back, near sobbing for relief. "Derek, please."
"I knew you'd be fucking pretty like this. Better than a girl," Derek said, jerking Stiles unsteadily without ever building a rhythm. His thumb flicked over the slit and then he reached down and tugged Stiles balls. "You're skin's so hot, and you squeeze me every time you breathe. I'm not even done painting your insides yet. This knot is going to get bigger in your ass before it comes out."
Stiles whimpered, coming instantly and clenched down harder on Derek's cock. It hurt like hell, and he'd never come so hard in his life. He shifted his legs further apart as Derek's hand drifted further back, ghosting across where they were connected. Derek was right, he felt the knot in him shift, pressing hard on his prostate forcing lightning bolts of pleasure and pain to zing through his dick again.
His arms gave out, and Derek was barely fast enough to shove the pillow under Stiles' face before he broke his nose. The movement pulled at the knot and he whimpered in pain until Derek pushed his leg up and settled more comfortably behind him. He waited a minute or two, while Derek hissed and jerked his hips, shallowly fucking up against him before he asked, "How long are you, y'know?"
"Probably another ten minutes, maybe more, it's been a while," Derek answered, his breath hot on the back of Stiles' neck. Sweat built up between them instantly, and the room was definitely going to reek. He finally stilled, pressed as tight to Stiles' ass as he could possibly get. "It's slowed down now."
He could still feel the force inside, like drinking a gallon of water after he was already on the brink of pissing his pants. Of course, he wasn't wearing pants, and he was nearly sure he didn't need to pee. Still, hopefully, Derek could finish and separate them sooner rather than later.
"Is it always like this for you?" he asked, wondering if the mind-blowing sex was worth the hassle of explaining his freak-o dick to somebody every time.
"No, I don't usually knot with fuck-buddies. It's supposed to be something special," Derek said after a growl. He thumped his hand on the back of Stiles' head. "Now shut up, you're ruining my afterglow."
Muttering softly without saying any actual words Derek's bat ears would catch, Stiles tried to get more comfortable to wait it out. Even this part completely ruined him. Derek would always be larger than life, but now Stiles could feel the difference throughout his body. Derek's broader shoulders, Derek's monster dick, Derek's clever wide fingers. He couldn't imagine sex with anyone else being anything but a letdown.
Now that the endorphins were cooling off, his ass started to ache and his entire body was sore. He managed to close his eyes and pretend Derek was sleeping with him because they actually liked each other. Losing himself in the daydream, Stiles wasn't prepared for Derek to give an experimental tug with his hips.
"Ow! Hey, cool it. Fuck," Stiles squawked, grabbing and holding on to Derek's forearms. "My ass doesn't stretch like that."
"It will if you shut up and relax," Derek said, in that fake patient voice that really meant he wanted to rip someone's head off. He splayed his hands over Stiles' ass and rolled them so he was on top again with Stiles humped up under him. He tugged again, but it didn't make any difference until he massaged Stiles sore rim with his thumbs and it unclenched enough for Derek to pull out.
Stiles couldn't help yelping, the knot might be smaller, but it was still fucking big. He crumpled into his carpet, feeling his insides start to rearrange themselves now that they didn't have to account for Derek's cock. He felt Derek move back, but then the hands were on his ass again, pulling his cheeks apart.
"Dude, really?" he groaned, trying to pull away until Derek growled and bit him sharply on the fleshy part of his ass cheek. Stiles stilled, hoping Derek would just finished so he could go fall in the shower and drown himself.
He wasn't prepared for Derek to shove his whole face down there, sniffing and snuffling up Stiles' balls to his hole. A high-pitched noise shot out his mouth when Derek licked him with a broad, rough tongue. Derek's hands dug into his ass, holding him open while he went to town, plunging his tongue into Stiles' abused hole.
"Ung, Derek?" Stiles curled his hand over his dick, squeezing and stroking, as he got hard again.
Derek lapped over Stiles' holes several more times, and then moved up, following the trail of sweat up to Stiles' tailbone. He nudged Stiles over onto his back and started over, sniffing low between his legs and licking up the crease of his thigh. Stiles wiggled, jerking his dick faster, worried Derek would shove his hand away again.
Instead, Derek sucked Stiles' balls into his mouth one at a time, angling his nose to keep out of Stiles' way. He licked up Stiles' dick, dipping his tongue between Stiles' fingers and over the tip. Stiles whined as heat rushed down his belly, and his dick twitched, leaking pearls of precome that Derek greedily lapped away. He felt Derek's come leak out his ass, sticky and slimy, but then Derek's fingers were there, pushing it back in.
"Gonna keep it in you," Derek muttered against Stiles' dick, licking and sucking Stiles' fingers. "Keep you full of my dick, my spunk."
Stiles keened and his entire body surged up as he came again.
Derek followed the path of Stiles' come up his stomach, his teeth grazing as he climbed up on his hands and knees, hovering. He fitted his palm against Stiles' face and tipped it back, exposing his throat. Stiles rolled his eyes down, trying to figure out what Derek was doing, but all he could see was Derek's dark hair. Pinprick sharp points pressed against the tendons of his throat, and he froze. After several seconds, Derek lifted his teeth and licked Stiles' neck until he was satisfied and pulled away.
Stiles stayed where he was, unsure if he could get up even if he wanted to, and watched Derek get dressed. Over the general ache, he couldn't start cataloging what part of his body hurt the most. He'd never actually been aware of his ass, but now it felt empty, and he already wished this hadn't been a one time deal.
"I'll be back tomorrow," Derek said, pulling his t-shirt down his stomach. He didn't bother with socks, shoving his feet into his boots before he walked to the door without a look back.
"I- What?" Stiles struggled to get up on his hands. He knew his mouth hung open, but since he was splayed naked on the floor, he didn't think Derek would care that much.
"I still have to order the parts for my house," Derek said, pausing over the threshold. He finally turned around, his fingers tightening until Stiles heard the wood crack. His eyes were blood red, the bright stuff that sprayed from an open wound. "And as far as I'm concerned, you're my bitch anytime I feel like it. Welcome to the pack."
Fandom – Pairing: Teen Wolf – Derek/Stiles
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: mentions of bestiality, knotting between a werewolf and his boy, dirty talk, a bit of d/s, comeplay, voyeurism, and dub-con. Also, horrible passing reference to a middle aged couple having sex.
Disclaimer: not mine, not real, pure fantasy, not meant to be a guide for werewolf sex
Notes: Written for
larantula who asked for it in the teenwolfkink meme. This is the first time I've actually claimed knotting fic with my realest of fake names. Spoilers for the finale but completely AU. No beta, so please feel free to point out any of my screwups.Summary: Stiles gets an eyeful and suddenly getting up close and personal to a werewolf is all he can think of.
It was a horrible breach of privacy. Totally. And Stiles felt bad about it. Really.
Scott had asked him to keep watch from the empty locker room after lacrosse practice so he could have a little alone time before he went to pick Allison up for a date. It wouldn't have been a big deal except that Coach came through unexpectedly. Stiles retreated into the damp showers so he wouldn't get another lecture about the importance of actually paying attention in class instead of doodling stick figures of anvils and pianos dropping on a certain grumpy unnamed Alpha werewolf whose last name may or may not rhyme with 'gale'.
The air was moist and hot, sticking to his skin. He pulled the collar of his t-shirt away from his neck and tried to take a deep breath. As soon as Coach finished blustering through, Stiles became aware of closer, much more intimate sounds. Every few seconds he heard a gasp and then the rhythmic slide of flesh on flesh.
He definitely didn't perv on his own best friend, but hell, he was just as curious as the next guy. Stiles quietly crouched and inched closer until he could peer around the separating tile wall. Through the steam, he could make out Scott's outline and immediately saw that he was wolfed out. The dim lighting glinted off the fangs in his open mouth. He frowned and glanced down to see that while Scott's arms were hairier than usual, he didn't have those viciously thick claws anywhere near Little!Scott.
Then Stiles got a good look at Little!Scott. He wasn't an expert or anything, but he'd swear Scott had one bump too many down there.
It didn't look that much different from the last time Stiles had accidently gotten an eyeful. That time it had been a genuine accident and before Scott had come down with his furry little problem. He might have compared a little, but that was fine, it's what dudes did. He and Scott had both been about average, maybe Scott was a bit longer and Stiles a bit thicker, but Scott absolutely had not had a huge fucking knot at the base of his dick.
The K-9 Unit at the sheriff's station had a great big German Shepherd who loved to sleep on his back with his legs stretched out around him. Stiles had asked the deputies once what that big ball was under the shepherd's skin on his belly. They'd turned bright red and quickly hustled him out of the full waiting room and into his dad's office. He dad had stuttered through an explanation and made Stiles promise to never bring it up again.
Scott moaned louder, jerking his dick faster with one hand while he curled the other around his knot and squeezed hard. He threw his head back when he came, rope after rope of thick come spurting out and eventually sliding down the drain.
Stiles barely remembered to close his mouth and scuttle back to the locker room before Scott turned around and caught him with his hand on his dick.
Before the internet, researching things like naughty sexual fetishes must have really sucked hard. He'd gone through a whole bottle of eye drops staying up late surfing free clip sites, image galleries, the Nifty Archive, and sex toy shops. Not that he'd ever be able to order anything and have that discretely wrapped box delivered to his house. It was all he could think about, all he dreamed about.
Even if he wasn't as out and dating guys as Danny was, Stiles had figured out he might be a little gay years ago. Actually, he was self aware enough to realize he'd probably fall into the omnisexual category, especially given the direction he'd recently run through. Though, he didn't have any direct experience to support his hypothesis.
So now the last thing he thought about at night and the first thing in the morning was what it would feel like taking a knotted dick up his ass.
Asking Scott was out of the question. He was dating Allison and even then, he couldn't imagine that awkward conversation ending anywhere good. No way was he going anywhere near Jackson with this, and last he knew Lydia didn't have a dick. That only left the closest thing to an arch nemesis he had.
Derek.
Funny, being the Alpha really hadn't changed Derek that much. Maybe he was a little grumpier, but when it came to Stiles, he was the same scary jackass he'd always been. He'd managed to make a deal to protect his new pack with the hunter's council as long as Argents also stayed behind to watch them as payment for Kate's crime. It was an uneasy truce, but at least Scott got to keep dating Allison. Also, Stiles got to keep poking Derek with a stick without worry about dying a horrible death because papa!Argent just itched to shoot a quiver of arrows into the wolves if even one of them put a paw out of line.
"Hey, wolfie! I brought pizza!" he yelled, kicking open the rickety front door of the Hale house. After they'd cleared Derek for the murders for the murders he hadn't actually committed, he'd moved back into the burned down husk of his family home and started rebuilding.
Derek stuck his head around the corner with sawdust covering his flattened hair. His muscle shirt might have been white at one point, but now it was dingy gray with dust and colored yellow with old sweat stains. "If you keep calling me 'wolfie', I'm going to shove my fist down your throat and rip out your lungs," he promised.
"Yeah, yeah," Stiles said, waving the threat away. By necessity, Derek was more bark than bite, and he'd quickly found out food would always get his foot in the door. He set the box down and opened it, taking a slice of ham and pineapple. "I told them to just kill a pig and put it on your half. Why aren't your minions here helping?"
"They're too busy shopping, tanning, and getting a pedicure," Derek said, folding two pieces in half and shoving it in his mouth.
Stiles snorted, "I'm afraid to ask which one is doing what."
"Yeah," Derek said, licking sauce off his lips. "Next time I make a pack, remind me not to pick three of the four most idiotic teenagers I can find. What are you doing here, anyway? Is Scott's mom and your dad making out in your living room again?"
"No, well yes," Stiles corrected himself. The idea of his dad and Scott's mom still freaked him out. The first time he'd caught them, he'd completely freaked out and Scott and Derek had finally caught up with him in a dive café across the county line. It was a little better now, they seemed happy, and he hadn't seen his dad smile so much in years. "But can't I just drop by because I missed you? You know, you could just change me, and then I'd be strong enough to swing that sledgehammer for you."
Derek stared at him, chewing thoughtfully.
Stiles took it as a win and clapped his hands, rubbing them together. "So!" he said brightly, "What do you need help with?"
"I'm rebuilding the wall between the living room and kitchen before the upstairs bedroom becomes a downstairs bedroom," Derek said, sighing.
"Great," Stiles turned his hat around backwards. "I'll bet you're awesome at nailing things."
Derek rolled his eyes but gestured Stiles in and put him to work sanding the drywall on the other side of the living room. He worked for about twenty minutes before he turned the machine off, and took off his protective gear to watch Derek work. Using a hammer, he knocked together a group of two by fours, making their edges even. The muscles in his shoulders shifted constantly, and his jeans slipped down his hips showing off the black elastic of his boxers.
He'd always found Derek sexy in theory, but now that he had more of an idea what Derek was packing in his pants, testing the waters was finally worth the risk of Derek clawing his throat open.
Clearing his throat, Stiles asked, "Have you figured out the running water in here yet?"
"Shut up and get back to work."
"I mean, I enjoy your manly musk. I was just curious. If you decided to make tea or something, you'd need water," Stiles said, only half imaging what Derek would look like with water sluicing down his chest.
Derek finally turned around and glared, "I don't drink tea, and I have a pump out back until I start on the plumbing in here."
"Are you going for traditional pipes?" Stiles asked, picking up a wrench and stroking down the shaft. "Because, I hear that some people like something new and different."
"Stop talking."
"As long as their plumbing things are compatible, I think it's admirable that people branch out," Stiles continued.
"Last chance."
"Plumbing is a very personal choice. I've been thinking about trying something new out myself. I was kinda wondering if you'd be interested in-"
A flash of movement and Derek's snarl warned him in time to fall on his knees. Stiles blinked, almost swallowing his tongue as he stared across the room at Derek, who suddenly looked more amused than dangerous. He stood carefully and glanced up. The handle of the hammer protruded out of the drywall, still quivering from impact, and barely an inch over Stiles' head.
"You know, this might go faster if you concentrated on the holes you already had access to."
The door had barely slammed behind him when Stiles started his Jeep and slammed it into reverse. Some people just didn't get innuendo.
Stiles dropped his backpack just inside his door and rolled his head around on his shoulders. So far, it had been the worst Friday since ever. He'd survived two tests, one presentation, and thirty minutes of suicide drills and all he wanted to do for the rest of the weekend was sleep, eat, and see how much of a cucumber he could stick up his ass. Since the Derek bust, it was the only thing he could think of to maybe scratch his itch.
"Interesting browser history, Stiles."
"Holy, fuck," Stiles swore, sure he actually felt his heart stop in his chest as he crashed back into his shut door.
"Stiles! You okay?" his dad yelled from down the hallway.
It took a couple of tries to work up enough spit to swallow. Derek sat at the computer desk with one of Stiles' favorite websites up. Even from his position near the door, he could see that it had been updated. A woman and her Great Dane grinned at him without any clue how truly screwed he was.
"Stiles?"
"Fine, Dad," he finally replied when Derek threw a lacrosse ball that bounced off his head. "I stepped on a tack or something. No blood, I'm fine."
"All right. There's some cash in the usual spot, don't burn the house down. Remember, I'm taking Melissa out for the weekend, so you better not call my cell unless someone is dead or dying!"
Stiles wrinkled his nose at the insinuation and barely kept himself from running after his dad and claiming some sort of imagined emergency to keep him home. The he saw Derek sitting and watching him with a creepy-wide grin stretched across his face.
"They're going to have sex, you know," he taunted once they heard the front door slam and his dad drive away. "Hot, sweaty, desperate, middle-aged sex in the missionary position."
"Oh my God!" Stiles covered his ears with his hands and started humming the theme song to Wizards of Waverly Place as loud as he could to drown out Derek's blasphemy.
A second later, Derek had him flattened against the door and yanked his arms up over his head. He held both wrists in one hand and made Stiles look at him with the other. "What about you?" he asked, showing the points of his canines. "You got big plans this weekend. Gonna invite the neighbor's Doberman over for some special time?"
"No," Stiles shook his head, struggling to get his hands free until he realized how much his feeble attempts were amusing Derek.
"What am I supposed to think?" Derek asked, speaking quietly as he leaned his body into Stiles and brushing his lips against Stiles' ear. "I came over to use your computer to order parts from the hardware store and stumbled into your porn history. You're a very naughty boy, beating off to man's best friend."
Stiles shuddered, utterly humiliated and indecently turned on by the timber in Derek's voice. He bit his lip and tried to explain, "No, I'm not… It's not… I don't-"
"You don't get hot thinking about getting on your hands and knees and taking it up the ass from a mutt?"
"It's not," Stiles tried, and then gasped when Derek pushed his nose down Stiles' neck. "It isn't the dog, it's the knot."
Derek blew out a hot gusty breath across Stiles' throat. "Who have you been spying on?" he asked, pawing down Stiles' side to his hip.
"I saw Scott, but I swear I didn't mean to, and then I was curious, but it wasn't like I could ask, so I started surfing the internet and thought it was hot, so I tried dropping hints and then you threw a hammer at my head," Stiles rambled, trying not to pause too long between words in case Derek decided to screw the hunters and rip his throat out anyway.
"Christ," Derek said, and squeezed Stiles' wrist until the bones moved. He took a deep breath and stepped back, letting Stiles rub blood back into his fingers, while he took off his jacket and tossed his t-shirt across the room. "Okay. Unzip my jeans."
He knew he looked like a fish caught in the bottom of a boat, but Stiles' brain had suddenly short-circuited and he thought he heard Derek tell him to unzip his pants. "What?" he asked, hoping that any moment he'd wake up.
"Get on your knees and take out my cock," Derek said slowly, pausing between every word. He shrugged when Stiles just stared at him. "You're curious and want to get fucked. I'll fuck you. It's not like I care enough right now to find someone better."
Ashton Kutcher had to be hiding under his bed. This was getting punk'd if ever there was a punk. Derek was just waiting for Stiles to do something embarrassing before falling out the window laughing and promising to torture him for the rest of his probably still short life.
"I'm not going to tell you again, Stiles."
Stiles crashed to the floor and then walked on bruised knees until he made it into arm's reach of Derek. With shaking hands, he flicked open the button, still half expecting Derek to swat him like a fly. Instead, Derek grunted softly and jerked his hips slightly. Stiles pulled the zipper down over Derek's hot dick. He shuffled forward until his knees were between Derek's feet, as he tugged the jeans out of the way.
His mouth watered just looking at the bulge nestled between Derek's legs. He breathed in the musk that all the wolves smelled like, except this was ten times stronger concentrated right in front of Stiles' face. As he watched, Derek shifted and the bulge grew, leaning slightly to the right. He licked his lips and glanced up, hoping for direction, but Derek remained silent.
Curling his fingers under the elastic of Derek's boxers, Stiles slowly inched them down, exposing the sharp cut of Derek's hipbones. When he pulled them low enough, he made sure to pull the band out and under Derek's cock. It was big already, hanging low and jutting straight out at his face. It flushed dark red, the tip already leaking, and at the base, a thicker band of skin circled the shaft in front of heavy balls.
"You ever suck cock before?" Derek asked, settling a big, warm hand on the back of Stiles' head. He looked satisfied at Stiles' denial and continued, "This is one place to keep your teeth to yourself."
Stiles steadied himself with his hands on Derek's thighs as he opened his mouth to the tip. The skin tasted warm and clean. He struggled to make sure his teeth stayed covered, especially when Derek pushed in another inch. Derek held his head still, and dragged his thumbs down into Stiles' hallowed cheeks. He let his eyes flutter shut as Derek thrust into his mouth, deeper every few seconds and left a bitter coating over Stiles' tongue.
He breathed through his nose, trying not to panic when Derek pushed in deeper and paused there. Stiles blinked, moisture gathering in the corners of his eyes from the stretch in his jaw and the mass in his mouth. Derek quirked his head, jerking his hips in short thrusts that stayed in Stiles' mouth without giving him any relief. Derek's hands kept Stiles from pushing away until he finally allowed it.
Swallowing convulsively and panting for breath, Stiles could barely believe how much bigger Derek's cock was after only a few minutes. His knot had doubled in size, and suddenly Stiles wasn't sure this was such a good idea. Something about his indecision must have showed on his face because Derek sneered and took his cock in hand.
"It's too late to back out now," he said, brushing his spit-slick cock over Stiles' cheekbones. He lifted it and pressed his knot against Stiles' mouth. "This is what you wanted, isn't it?"
The knot was harder than the shaft, solid and hot. Stiles trailed his lips over it, licking and kissing until he heard Derek groan above him. He flicked his eyes up, freezing when he realized Derek's eyes were glowing red. "I'm in over my head," he said suddenly, the words coming out of nowhere.
Derek laughed, a gruff sound that reminded Stiles of claws raking across cement. "You finally figure that out?" he taunted, stepping away from Stiles who unconsciously swayed forward. "Take your clothes off. Don't get up."
It took Stiles a couple of tries to get his belt undone, but then he quickly shoved his jeans and boxers down past his ass. He sat down and kicked them off, using his toes to flick his socks across the room. He pulled his shirt over his head and cupped his aching, neglected cock.
"Don't bother," Derek said, shoving Stiles' hand away with his foot. He'd finished taking off his boots and pants, and stood naked with his arms crossed over his chest. A soft dusting of dark hair covered his arms, groin, and legs. The sunlight streaming through the window bronzed his skin, reflecting in his eyes. "Do you have any lube? Lotion?"
"There's a tube in the nightstand," Stiles answered, blushing furiously at the memory of buying lube from old Mr. Walker in the drugstore. "Derek, I don't… I haven't-"
"Get on your hands and knees," Derek interrupted, walking over to the bed. He waited until Stiles complied and then tossed a pillow in front of him and grabbed the tube and knelt behind Stiles. "This is probably going to hurt. A lot."
Stiles fisted his hands and let his head hang under his shoulders. While he probably jerked off twenty times this week thinking about this, now that Derek was actually spreading him open and touching his hole, he was totally freaked. "Maybe, we should call this off?" he offered, shifting his weight as a cold slick finger barely pushed against his ass. "We'll laugh about this later."
"In your dreams," Derek said, grabbing and holding Stiles' hip in case he was stupid enough to try to run. "I'm going to fuck you until the only word you can remember is my name."
"Someone has an awfully high opinion of hims- holy shit," Stiles curled into himself as Derek pushed two fingers straight into him
He ass shuddered and he tried to yank away, but he didn't have anywhere to go. If felt wrong and amazing at the same time. He felt overheated, like he'd catch fire at any second and burn away to nothing. After a few seconds, he managed to relax and realize Derek was urging him to move into the stretch.
"You're lucky the full moon was a week ago," Derek said, quickly twisting his fingers and finding the bump that made Stiles see stars. "I wish I could just fuck you open and lick your tears up later. You look too good with a hand-shaped bruise on your neck."
Stiles groaned, imagining Derek actually doing it. He felt his dick jump at the image and reached down to squeeze himself, only to get his hand knocked away again. It put him off balance enough to land on his elbows, arching his ass high in the air. His cheek scraped across the carpet as Derek instantly got rougher, adding a finger and brutally forcing him to stretch around them.
Sweat dripped down his nose stinging his eyes, his body instantly telling him it was too much, too fast. His muscles trembled and still felt like rubber from the suicides in gym class. He knew Derek couldn't care less about Stiles' comfort, and for a split second it reminded him of some of the stories he'd read. People fucked by animals who couldn't give a damn if the person under them got off. He wondered if Derek always acted like that, or if it was just because Stiles was the one on the floor.
"Don't tense up, it'll make it hurt more."
Derek didn't give Stiles the chance to figure out what he meant before something much bigger than three fingers started splitting him open. He clawed at the carpet trying to get away, but Derek held him still and pushed his dick in until pain blossomed in Stiles head and he knew he'd die if it didn't stop.
"Breathe. Goddamn it, Stiles, just breathe and stop being such a pussy."
Stiles sucked in a breath finally and eased some of the ache. He felt Derek rub circles in the small of his back and pick him up until Stiles could get his hands under him again. Slowly, he got used to Derek's short jabs in and out until his muscles relaxed until he could enjoy the bump and grind into his ass.
"See, that's not so bad, is it?" Derek asked a little breathlessly, moving one hand from hip to the top part of Stiles' shoulder to get a better grip.
"Is that it?" Stiles asked, since after over sixteen years on Earth, he still hadn't figured out that sometimes it was better to just shut up. "I don't see what's so special about that."
Derek leaned over him and nipped the back of his neck against his hairline. "I haven't even started yet," he promised, lengthening the push of his hips into Stiles body.
Stiles whimpered when he felt something even bigger push at the rim to his ass trying to get in. There was no way. Absolutely no fucking way Derek's knot was ever going to fit, and Stiles didn't want his abnormally kinky death splashed all over the headlines of the local gossip rag. Derek's thrust got wilder until he nearly knocked Stiles over again and they inched across the floor while Derek practically tried to climb inside.
"On three," Derek whispered, pausing in his frenzy so Stiles could hear him. "On three, I'll push it in. Relax."
"Derek, wait," Stiles begged, his throat raw already. He pulled at the iron grip Derek had on him, trying to wiggle away. "I can't, please. I can't."
"You're going to," Derek said, holding Stiles against his chest for a second before he took his weight back on his knees. "One."
Stiles went limp for just a heartbeat, preparing to fight harder when Derek got to three, but he never got the chance. Derek shoved his hips forward immediately, his growl almost drowning out Stiles' cry as his knot slipped inside. They were pressed flush against each other, Derek's balls slapping across his thighs.
It hurt, it ached, it burned, and Stiles didn't know how anyone could possibly do this and enjoy it. Derek kept flexing his hips, but he couldn't thrust very far inside Stiles anymore, instead he moved Stiles entire body and Stiles was helpless to do anything but whimper and try to anticipate Derek's motions. The knot felt like it was as big as his fist, sitting just inside while the rest of Derek's cock split him open up to his chest.
Derek's fingers moved constantly, raking down his back and over his belly, pushing into the soft skin there and curling back over his hips again. Every little bit he would scrape with his fingernails and Stiles would wince waiting to be sliced open. Eventually, and despite his better intensions, it started to feel kinda good, and he angled his body so Derek could reach the best spots.
"Do you know why a dog knots?" Derek asked, still circling his hips and making Stiles move with him. "The male knots to keep his seed in his bitch's belly. So she has a better chance to breed his litter of puppies."
"Oh, jeez," Stiles muttered, warmth spreading through his belly, that he could only partially attribute to his freaky side getting turned on by Derek's words. He craned his neck around; Derek's eyes were pale red but his teeth long and pointed out of his open mouth. He looked completely blissed out, flicking his tongue over the edges of his canines.
"I'll fuck you until your belly's swollen and my come leaks out your ass," Derek asked, sounding stoned as he caught Stiles' eyes. "You want my puppies inside you, Stiles?"
The pressure increased, and he remembered how much come Scott had shot out in the shower. All that, and probably more was currently spraying through his guts. The idea of Derek breeding him made him tremble and the words died in his throat. He tried to hide his face in his arm.
"What was that? I couldn't quite hear you."
"Yes! God, yes, you fucker," Stiles panted, wishing he dared to try jerking off again. His dick rubbed up against the wiry hair trailing down from his belly button with every move he made. He was so fucking embarrassed, but the throbbing in his ass matched his racing heartbeat and getting knotted turned out to be everything he wanted it to be.
Derek grunted and stretched out on Stiles, making him lock his elbows to keep them both upright. He nipped and licked along Stiles shoulders, even catching his ear once. One hand pushed on Stiles' lower abdomen, increasing the pressure there and the other finally, finally wrapped around Stiles' dick.
"Derek," Stiles wouldn't have recognized his voice, rusted and halting. His entire world narrowed to Derek's hands and his knot. He managed small jerks forward and back, near sobbing for relief. "Derek, please."
"I knew you'd be fucking pretty like this. Better than a girl," Derek said, jerking Stiles unsteadily without ever building a rhythm. His thumb flicked over the slit and then he reached down and tugged Stiles balls. "You're skin's so hot, and you squeeze me every time you breathe. I'm not even done painting your insides yet. This knot is going to get bigger in your ass before it comes out."
Stiles whimpered, coming instantly and clenched down harder on Derek's cock. It hurt like hell, and he'd never come so hard in his life. He shifted his legs further apart as Derek's hand drifted further back, ghosting across where they were connected. Derek was right, he felt the knot in him shift, pressing hard on his prostate forcing lightning bolts of pleasure and pain to zing through his dick again.
His arms gave out, and Derek was barely fast enough to shove the pillow under Stiles' face before he broke his nose. The movement pulled at the knot and he whimpered in pain until Derek pushed his leg up and settled more comfortably behind him. He waited a minute or two, while Derek hissed and jerked his hips, shallowly fucking up against him before he asked, "How long are you, y'know?"
"Probably another ten minutes, maybe more, it's been a while," Derek answered, his breath hot on the back of Stiles' neck. Sweat built up between them instantly, and the room was definitely going to reek. He finally stilled, pressed as tight to Stiles' ass as he could possibly get. "It's slowed down now."
He could still feel the force inside, like drinking a gallon of water after he was already on the brink of pissing his pants. Of course, he wasn't wearing pants, and he was nearly sure he didn't need to pee. Still, hopefully, Derek could finish and separate them sooner rather than later.
"Is it always like this for you?" he asked, wondering if the mind-blowing sex was worth the hassle of explaining his freak-o dick to somebody every time.
"No, I don't usually knot with fuck-buddies. It's supposed to be something special," Derek said after a growl. He thumped his hand on the back of Stiles' head. "Now shut up, you're ruining my afterglow."
Muttering softly without saying any actual words Derek's bat ears would catch, Stiles tried to get more comfortable to wait it out. Even this part completely ruined him. Derek would always be larger than life, but now Stiles could feel the difference throughout his body. Derek's broader shoulders, Derek's monster dick, Derek's clever wide fingers. He couldn't imagine sex with anyone else being anything but a letdown.
Now that the endorphins were cooling off, his ass started to ache and his entire body was sore. He managed to close his eyes and pretend Derek was sleeping with him because they actually liked each other. Losing himself in the daydream, Stiles wasn't prepared for Derek to give an experimental tug with his hips.
"Ow! Hey, cool it. Fuck," Stiles squawked, grabbing and holding on to Derek's forearms. "My ass doesn't stretch like that."
"It will if you shut up and relax," Derek said, in that fake patient voice that really meant he wanted to rip someone's head off. He splayed his hands over Stiles' ass and rolled them so he was on top again with Stiles humped up under him. He tugged again, but it didn't make any difference until he massaged Stiles sore rim with his thumbs and it unclenched enough for Derek to pull out.
Stiles couldn't help yelping, the knot might be smaller, but it was still fucking big. He crumpled into his carpet, feeling his insides start to rearrange themselves now that they didn't have to account for Derek's cock. He felt Derek move back, but then the hands were on his ass again, pulling his cheeks apart.
"Dude, really?" he groaned, trying to pull away until Derek growled and bit him sharply on the fleshy part of his ass cheek. Stiles stilled, hoping Derek would just finished so he could go fall in the shower and drown himself.
He wasn't prepared for Derek to shove his whole face down there, sniffing and snuffling up Stiles' balls to his hole. A high-pitched noise shot out his mouth when Derek licked him with a broad, rough tongue. Derek's hands dug into his ass, holding him open while he went to town, plunging his tongue into Stiles' abused hole.
"Ung, Derek?" Stiles curled his hand over his dick, squeezing and stroking, as he got hard again.
Derek lapped over Stiles' holes several more times, and then moved up, following the trail of sweat up to Stiles' tailbone. He nudged Stiles over onto his back and started over, sniffing low between his legs and licking up the crease of his thigh. Stiles wiggled, jerking his dick faster, worried Derek would shove his hand away again.
Instead, Derek sucked Stiles' balls into his mouth one at a time, angling his nose to keep out of Stiles' way. He licked up Stiles' dick, dipping his tongue between Stiles' fingers and over the tip. Stiles whined as heat rushed down his belly, and his dick twitched, leaking pearls of precome that Derek greedily lapped away. He felt Derek's come leak out his ass, sticky and slimy, but then Derek's fingers were there, pushing it back in.
"Gonna keep it in you," Derek muttered against Stiles' dick, licking and sucking Stiles' fingers. "Keep you full of my dick, my spunk."
Stiles keened and his entire body surged up as he came again.
Derek followed the path of Stiles' come up his stomach, his teeth grazing as he climbed up on his hands and knees, hovering. He fitted his palm against Stiles' face and tipped it back, exposing his throat. Stiles rolled his eyes down, trying to figure out what Derek was doing, but all he could see was Derek's dark hair. Pinprick sharp points pressed against the tendons of his throat, and he froze. After several seconds, Derek lifted his teeth and licked Stiles' neck until he was satisfied and pulled away.
Stiles stayed where he was, unsure if he could get up even if he wanted to, and watched Derek get dressed. Over the general ache, he couldn't start cataloging what part of his body hurt the most. He'd never actually been aware of his ass, but now it felt empty, and he already wished this hadn't been a one time deal.
"I'll be back tomorrow," Derek said, pulling his t-shirt down his stomach. He didn't bother with socks, shoving his feet into his boots before he walked to the door without a look back.
"I- What?" Stiles struggled to get up on his hands. He knew his mouth hung open, but since he was splayed naked on the floor, he didn't think Derek would care that much.
"I still have to order the parts for my house," Derek said, pausing over the threshold. He finally turned around, his fingers tightening until Stiles heard the wood crack. His eyes were blood red, the bright stuff that sprayed from an open wound. "And as far as I'm concerned, you're my bitch anytime I feel like it. Welcome to the pack."
