i am my own self-fulfilling prophecy
I needed to write some warm-up porn to get me in the right headspace for another fic I'm working on, and suddenly Sterek happened. :D?
Title: feeling as good as lovers can
Fandom: Teen Wolf
Pairing: Derek/Stiles
Rating: NC-17
Summary: He wants so much more, wants anything he can get when they've got a whole summer afternoon to themselves, just sunlight and bare skin and the slow drag of Derek's fingers against his pulse.
A/N: shameless PWP, partly in celebration of Sterek winning the AfterElton poll (!!), but mostly just because porn. :D
written for the 'afternoon' prompt on my
cottoncandy_bingo card.
"Fuck," Stiles says, arching up as Derek licks a long stripe from his stomach to his neck, and Derek huffs a soft laugh against his skin. He nuzzles at the curve of Stiles's jaw before nipping lightly, teasing the pinch with his tongue, and Stiles groans and fists a hand in Derek's hair.
"What happened to-" Stiles tries, but Derek pushes up, sliding chest to chest and covers him completely before kissing him again, rough and possessive and he catches Stiles's free hand that was trying to grab at his arm and pins it to the pillow.
"I prefer this plan," Derek says, low and dark but there's laughter behind it and he presses a kiss to the corner of Stiles's mouth before nuzzling back down his neck, brushing his lips over his collarbone and catching his nipple lightly between his teeth. Stiles's breath catches, then stutters, then dips into an annoyed groan as Derek sucks on the skin a little to the left of his nipple and then moves lower, his hands on either side of Stile's ribs to hold him still.
"I'd prefer it if you weren't such a tease," Stiles says, trying to arch up against Derek's mouth as he sucks kisses along his hip, and Derek hides his smile by mouthing at the join of his thigh, maddeningly close and Stiles just groans, throwing one hand out to the side so it hits the mattress with a soft thump.
He's desperately hard, red and aching and Derek is just ignoring it, instead pushing Stiles's thighs apart with a hand under each knee, spreading him irresistibly, and then he just presses his mouth against the soft, smooth skin of his inner thigh. There's a hint of teeth, Derek's breath hot and wet and he's not fucking moving; Stiles gives up and just grabs at Derek's hair with both hands, his fingers gripping at the back of his head and he whines, "Come on!"
Derek just laughs, a hot brush of air that lingers close to his cock but nowhere near close enough, and slides his hands up Stiles's legs so they're covering his hips, huge and warm and holding him down with barely any effort when Stiles tries to buck his hips to get closer to his mouth.
"I hate you," Stiles says, breathless and tense. "I actually hate you."
"Yeah?" Derek says, and suddenly he's looming over him, placing a hand either side of his head and he's not touching him anywhere, as Stiles's hands fall back onto the mattress and they're nose to nose. Stiles's eyes glow golden in the afternoon light and Derek just looks at him, as Stiles tries to squirm without showing it and his cheeks are flushed red, lips parted and eyes bright and fixed on Derek's mouth before flicking up to watch him watching him.
"Okay, maybe I don't," Stiles says, swallowing, and Derek lowers himself an inch just as Stiles launches upwards, looping his arms around Derek's neck as he crashes their mouths together and kisses him, hard and open-mouthed. Derek drinks him in, levering down until he's settled between Stiles's legs and his cock is rubbing hot friction against Stiles: he gasps wetly into Derek's mouth, tightening his grip around his neck and arches up so tightly Derek can slip a hand between his shoulder blades and hold him there, pressed together from hip to shoulder.
"You're still a tease," Stiles mutters against his lips as he rolls his hips up, and grins in triumph when Derek groans softly and bites at his mouth. It's impossibly warm, in the late summer heat and with the overwhelming crush of Derek baring down on him, making him feel entirely consumed and like his skin is pricking with sweat, and then Derek reaches down to enclose their cocks in one hand and Stiles throws his head back against the pillow with a strangled yelp, baring his neck.
"Please," he says, when Derek just rests his forehead against Stiles's shoulder and pumps his fist slowly, the dragging friction so, so good but he wants so much more, wants anything he can get when they've got a whole summer afternoon to themselves, just sunlight and bare skin and the slow drag of Derek's fingers against his pulse. Derek pushes up to suck a kiss on his neck, his nose tucked against the corner of his jaw, and then slinks lower, peppering kisses down Stiles's chest as one hand still lazily works Stiles's erection with a kind of diligent stubbornness, unwilling to let go even as he shifts to lie between Stiles's thighs and he nips his way along his treasure trail.
Stiles moans with exaggerated encouragement, keening and silly, and spreads his legs wider as Derek rests a hand on the top of his thigh, his thumb smoothing circles into the join of his hip, and then finally, finally Derek's mouth reaches the base of Stiles's cock and he ghosts warm breath over his flushed skin. Stiles bucks up impatiently, half-stopped by the solid weight of Derek's hand and he feels the humming laughter vibrating through Derek's lips as he (finally) starts to mouth at his cock, sliding his fingers out the way so he can swipe the flat of his tongue up to the head and then suck it between his lips, sudden hot pressure and Stiles moans for real, one hand clutching at the bedsheets like an anchor.
"Fuck, yeah, just like that," Stiles sighs, high and tight and Derek swallows, sliding his lips further down his length as he wraps his fingers around the base and squeezes for a moment, before slowly pumping his hand up until it meets his mouth. He closes his eyes and the smell of Stiles is overwhelming, musk and salt and something earthy like the depth of the woods, and when he sucks, hollowing his cheeks and squeezing his hand tighter, the way Stiles moans with his whole body makes something animalistic and possessive rise up, makes Derek want to devour him like he does every time he's got Stiles sprawled out and open underneath him.
He shifts, trying to lightly press his own erection into the mattress for some kind of relief, and Stiles reaches down to curl a hand around the back of his head, his fingertips brushing against the join of his hairline and his neck. It's the lightest touch but it's like an anchor, and urging, and permission, and Derek sucks two fingers into his mouth alongside Stiles's cock before slipping them down, nudging the tight skin just behind his balls and then slipping further.
He pushes two fingers in, slow but steady and Stiles is loose enough that he just lets his knees fall wider and pushes back, urging him in more until Derek is up to the knuckle and Stiles is keening, small, urgent noises between the cacophony of swearing and, "oh my god," and, "Derek, if you don't move I'm going to fill your hair gel with glitter, I swear to god, it's pink and it'll never come out-"
and Derek just hums lightly because he knows that makes Stiles's breath catch and makes him stop talking, leaves him just moaning incoherently as Derek draws his fingers out to the second knuckle before pushing back in, working him open with sure little thrusts and the wet slide of his mouth over his cock. Stiles arches up, rolling his hips forward so he can push into that hot pressure and he's so, so close, as Derek sucks tightly and draws his mouth up, the tip of Stiles's cock slipping against his pursed lips for a second before he swallows him back down, slides a third finger into him and Stiles comes, gasping wetly and grabbing desperately onto the sheets as he cants into Derek's mouth.
"Get up here," Stiles says, after a long moment of just breathing, after Derek works him through the aftershocks with the steady press of his fingers and the soft working of his tongue, and Derek pads up the bed and kisses him softly as he blindly grabs a tissue to wipe his fingers with. Stiles kisses back, blissful and sloppy and eyes closed, and with a lazy hand he reaches down to curl his fingers around Derek's cock where it's pressing against his stomach.
"You don't have to," Derek says, murmured against his lips and Stiles pulls a face. "I'm nearly-"
"Like hell I don't. Gimme," he says, with a rough tug down the length of Derek's cock, and Derek turns the kiss harder for a moment, a rough crush of their lips together before he reaches up to grab a condom and lube from where they're not exactly well-hidden on the shelf above Stiles's bed.
Stiles grabs the condom off him and rips it open, reaching down to roll it along Derek's cock as Derek leans his forehead against Stiles's and just breathes slowly.
"Yeah? You like that?" Stiles says, and Derek snorts. "I'm taking that as a yes."
Derek covers Stiles's mouth with his own, mainly to shut him up, and leans on one forearm so he can slick himself up, his own fingers making him hiss. Stiles is still loose and pliant and his fingers slip in easily as he coats him generously, because he needs this as easy as possible to make it last at all, and Stiles sighs happily, blissful and content, as he guides his cock slowly inside him.
"Yeah, come on," Stiles breathes, as Derek wraps his hands around Stiles's hips and presses in all the way. He curls over him and Stiles arches up, kissing him soft and slow as he starts to thrust in shallow bursts, and this isn't going to last long at all, Stiles a perfect tight heat around him and he growls lowly into his mouth.
Stiles murmurs vague, filthy encouragement against his lips and he's so close to the edge that it's actually hot, and he moves with aching slowness that has Stiles palming his own cock again as it lays against his stomach.
"Oh my god, are you doing this on purpose," Stiles groans, as Derek pushes all the way in and just holds, his body snapped tight above him, and Stiles rocks his hips forward and up, pushing relentlessly against him - and in two short thrusts Derek is coming with a rough growl that Stiles swallows down, laughing happily.
The soft afternoon light streaks across the bed and Derek holds himself over Stiles, his arms taut as he pulls out and Stiles gives a soft sigh, too boneless to be anything more than half-hard and without moving his arms he snaps his hands in Derek's direction as he gets up to throw the condom in the trash.
"Get back here," Stiles says, as Derek is already climbing back onto the bed. "I know you're secretly a cuddler."
"It's not that secret," Derek says, and Stiles laughs, still sprawled and open and entirely without shame, and pulls him in for a kiss.
Title: feeling as good as lovers can
Fandom: Teen Wolf
Pairing: Derek/Stiles
Rating: NC-17
Summary: He wants so much more, wants anything he can get when they've got a whole summer afternoon to themselves, just sunlight and bare skin and the slow drag of Derek's fingers against his pulse.
A/N: shameless PWP, partly in celebration of Sterek winning the AfterElton poll (!!), but mostly just because porn. :D
written for the 'afternoon' prompt on my
cottoncandy_bingo card.
"Fuck," Stiles says, arching up as Derek licks a long stripe from his stomach to his neck, and Derek huffs a soft laugh against his skin. He nuzzles at the curve of Stiles's jaw before nipping lightly, teasing the pinch with his tongue, and Stiles groans and fists a hand in Derek's hair.
"What happened to-" Stiles tries, but Derek pushes up, sliding chest to chest and covers him completely before kissing him again, rough and possessive and he catches Stiles's free hand that was trying to grab at his arm and pins it to the pillow.
"I prefer this plan," Derek says, low and dark but there's laughter behind it and he presses a kiss to the corner of Stiles's mouth before nuzzling back down his neck, brushing his lips over his collarbone and catching his nipple lightly between his teeth. Stiles's breath catches, then stutters, then dips into an annoyed groan as Derek sucks on the skin a little to the left of his nipple and then moves lower, his hands on either side of Stile's ribs to hold him still.
"I'd prefer it if you weren't such a tease," Stiles says, trying to arch up against Derek's mouth as he sucks kisses along his hip, and Derek hides his smile by mouthing at the join of his thigh, maddeningly close and Stiles just groans, throwing one hand out to the side so it hits the mattress with a soft thump.
He's desperately hard, red and aching and Derek is just ignoring it, instead pushing Stiles's thighs apart with a hand under each knee, spreading him irresistibly, and then he just presses his mouth against the soft, smooth skin of his inner thigh. There's a hint of teeth, Derek's breath hot and wet and he's not fucking moving; Stiles gives up and just grabs at Derek's hair with both hands, his fingers gripping at the back of his head and he whines, "Come on!"
Derek just laughs, a hot brush of air that lingers close to his cock but nowhere near close enough, and slides his hands up Stiles's legs so they're covering his hips, huge and warm and holding him down with barely any effort when Stiles tries to buck his hips to get closer to his mouth.
"I hate you," Stiles says, breathless and tense. "I actually hate you."
"Yeah?" Derek says, and suddenly he's looming over him, placing a hand either side of his head and he's not touching him anywhere, as Stiles's hands fall back onto the mattress and they're nose to nose. Stiles's eyes glow golden in the afternoon light and Derek just looks at him, as Stiles tries to squirm without showing it and his cheeks are flushed red, lips parted and eyes bright and fixed on Derek's mouth before flicking up to watch him watching him.
"Okay, maybe I don't," Stiles says, swallowing, and Derek lowers himself an inch just as Stiles launches upwards, looping his arms around Derek's neck as he crashes their mouths together and kisses him, hard and open-mouthed. Derek drinks him in, levering down until he's settled between Stiles's legs and his cock is rubbing hot friction against Stiles: he gasps wetly into Derek's mouth, tightening his grip around his neck and arches up so tightly Derek can slip a hand between his shoulder blades and hold him there, pressed together from hip to shoulder.
"You're still a tease," Stiles mutters against his lips as he rolls his hips up, and grins in triumph when Derek groans softly and bites at his mouth. It's impossibly warm, in the late summer heat and with the overwhelming crush of Derek baring down on him, making him feel entirely consumed and like his skin is pricking with sweat, and then Derek reaches down to enclose their cocks in one hand and Stiles throws his head back against the pillow with a strangled yelp, baring his neck.
"Please," he says, when Derek just rests his forehead against Stiles's shoulder and pumps his fist slowly, the dragging friction so, so good but he wants so much more, wants anything he can get when they've got a whole summer afternoon to themselves, just sunlight and bare skin and the slow drag of Derek's fingers against his pulse. Derek pushes up to suck a kiss on his neck, his nose tucked against the corner of his jaw, and then slinks lower, peppering kisses down Stiles's chest as one hand still lazily works Stiles's erection with a kind of diligent stubbornness, unwilling to let go even as he shifts to lie between Stiles's thighs and he nips his way along his treasure trail.
Stiles moans with exaggerated encouragement, keening and silly, and spreads his legs wider as Derek rests a hand on the top of his thigh, his thumb smoothing circles into the join of his hip, and then finally, finally Derek's mouth reaches the base of Stiles's cock and he ghosts warm breath over his flushed skin. Stiles bucks up impatiently, half-stopped by the solid weight of Derek's hand and he feels the humming laughter vibrating through Derek's lips as he (finally) starts to mouth at his cock, sliding his fingers out the way so he can swipe the flat of his tongue up to the head and then suck it between his lips, sudden hot pressure and Stiles moans for real, one hand clutching at the bedsheets like an anchor.
"Fuck, yeah, just like that," Stiles sighs, high and tight and Derek swallows, sliding his lips further down his length as he wraps his fingers around the base and squeezes for a moment, before slowly pumping his hand up until it meets his mouth. He closes his eyes and the smell of Stiles is overwhelming, musk and salt and something earthy like the depth of the woods, and when he sucks, hollowing his cheeks and squeezing his hand tighter, the way Stiles moans with his whole body makes something animalistic and possessive rise up, makes Derek want to devour him like he does every time he's got Stiles sprawled out and open underneath him.
He shifts, trying to lightly press his own erection into the mattress for some kind of relief, and Stiles reaches down to curl a hand around the back of his head, his fingertips brushing against the join of his hairline and his neck. It's the lightest touch but it's like an anchor, and urging, and permission, and Derek sucks two fingers into his mouth alongside Stiles's cock before slipping them down, nudging the tight skin just behind his balls and then slipping further.
He pushes two fingers in, slow but steady and Stiles is loose enough that he just lets his knees fall wider and pushes back, urging him in more until Derek is up to the knuckle and Stiles is keening, small, urgent noises between the cacophony of swearing and, "oh my god," and, "Derek, if you don't move I'm going to fill your hair gel with glitter, I swear to god, it's pink and it'll never come out-"
and Derek just hums lightly because he knows that makes Stiles's breath catch and makes him stop talking, leaves him just moaning incoherently as Derek draws his fingers out to the second knuckle before pushing back in, working him open with sure little thrusts and the wet slide of his mouth over his cock. Stiles arches up, rolling his hips forward so he can push into that hot pressure and he's so, so close, as Derek sucks tightly and draws his mouth up, the tip of Stiles's cock slipping against his pursed lips for a second before he swallows him back down, slides a third finger into him and Stiles comes, gasping wetly and grabbing desperately onto the sheets as he cants into Derek's mouth.
"Get up here," Stiles says, after a long moment of just breathing, after Derek works him through the aftershocks with the steady press of his fingers and the soft working of his tongue, and Derek pads up the bed and kisses him softly as he blindly grabs a tissue to wipe his fingers with. Stiles kisses back, blissful and sloppy and eyes closed, and with a lazy hand he reaches down to curl his fingers around Derek's cock where it's pressing against his stomach.
"You don't have to," Derek says, murmured against his lips and Stiles pulls a face. "I'm nearly-"
"Like hell I don't. Gimme," he says, with a rough tug down the length of Derek's cock, and Derek turns the kiss harder for a moment, a rough crush of their lips together before he reaches up to grab a condom and lube from where they're not exactly well-hidden on the shelf above Stiles's bed.
Stiles grabs the condom off him and rips it open, reaching down to roll it along Derek's cock as Derek leans his forehead against Stiles's and just breathes slowly.
"Yeah? You like that?" Stiles says, and Derek snorts. "I'm taking that as a yes."
Derek covers Stiles's mouth with his own, mainly to shut him up, and leans on one forearm so he can slick himself up, his own fingers making him hiss. Stiles is still loose and pliant and his fingers slip in easily as he coats him generously, because he needs this as easy as possible to make it last at all, and Stiles sighs happily, blissful and content, as he guides his cock slowly inside him.
"Yeah, come on," Stiles breathes, as Derek wraps his hands around Stiles's hips and presses in all the way. He curls over him and Stiles arches up, kissing him soft and slow as he starts to thrust in shallow bursts, and this isn't going to last long at all, Stiles a perfect tight heat around him and he growls lowly into his mouth.
Stiles murmurs vague, filthy encouragement against his lips and he's so close to the edge that it's actually hot, and he moves with aching slowness that has Stiles palming his own cock again as it lays against his stomach.
"Oh my god, are you doing this on purpose," Stiles groans, as Derek pushes all the way in and just holds, his body snapped tight above him, and Stiles rocks his hips forward and up, pushing relentlessly against him - and in two short thrusts Derek is coming with a rough growl that Stiles swallows down, laughing happily.
The soft afternoon light streaks across the bed and Derek holds himself over Stiles, his arms taut as he pulls out and Stiles gives a soft sigh, too boneless to be anything more than half-hard and without moving his arms he snaps his hands in Derek's direction as he gets up to throw the condom in the trash.
"Get back here," Stiles says, as Derek is already climbing back onto the bed. "I know you're secretly a cuddler."
"It's not that secret," Derek says, and Stiles laughs, still sprawled and open and entirely without shame, and pulls him in for a kiss.