Bad Intentions
Title: Bad Intentions
Rating: NC-17
Fandom: Teen Wolf Derek/Stiles
Warning: Sex
Summary: When it came to sex, Derek always thought Stiles would be nervous, awkward, and reluctant. He couldn't be more wrong.
People could call Stiles a lot of things. Annoying, loud-mouthed, intelligent, clumsy, but two things people always skimmed to skim over or take in consideration lightly, were the two that were the biggest pain in Derek’s ass.
Determined, and distracting. Actually throw in a little bit of confusion of morale in there, and the fact Stiles could go from normal to completely aroused at the speed of light-then it was spot on.
Oh wait, one more of Stiles’ characteristics, the fact that he was sixteen. Sixteen, distracting, determined, with a current confusion of morale, and incredibly aroused did not mix well together.
Add in Derek’s car, and the combination was down right combustible.
“Think of it this way, in a parallel world there may be a Stiles who is eighteen. What if you pretend I’m that Stiles, and that way it’s totally legal?” He offered the idea with a demonstration with his hands of how that was entirely and completely possible.
Derek kept driving.
“We could just pull over, it’s dark, and I mean you can’t just say that you totally are unaffected, because I know that even super humans would be turned on.” Stiles waved his arms in an attempt to gesture to the past-five minutes ago-of their groping and grinding, before Derek realized things were going too quickly (in his car) and continued on his original mission to drive Stiles home.
Stiles showed up at his house that afternoon, feigning to want to talk about Scott and werewolf things, and maybe he did-but the conversation did not last very long. It could’ve been Derek’s fault sure, but he chose to blame it on Stiles.
He knew that humans couldn’t go into heat-he had attended school, but holy fuck this kid never stopped. When Derek evaded his advances first and demanded Stiles go home, it ended up at the point where he had to drive him home. Then Stiles was back at it again.
It was fucking ridiculous.
“You’re an idiot.” He grumbled and kept his eyes focused on the wheel, and not at Stiles. Stiles who was straining against his seat belt as he tried to turn around to face Derek.
“If I agree, will you put out?” When Stiles hand moved awkwardly towards Derek’s legs in perhaps the most unsubtle technique ever, Derek pulled over.
Because Stiles was being dumb. He thought when they became involved in this strange thing, this kissing, this touching-this odd new thing, that Stiles would be reluctant.
Derek thought he would want to wait till he was eighteen, that he was nervous, and unsure. Apparently, Derek was wrong.
“This” He ripped Stiles hand off of his thigh, and threw it back at him, “needs to stop.”
There was no one out at this time of night. Especially at this area of town, and Derek’s sleek black car blended into the night. It was true, Derek knew this wasn’t exactly a high populated area, there would only be a slight chance someone would see them.
No…nope.
“Aw, c’mon,” then he looked at Derek with that deadly serious look in his eye, his salesman look, the look he gave when he was trying to sell an idea even he knew was outrageous. “Just fuck me once okay? Once and then we’re good.”
“No.”
Stiles’ entire expression deflated, he sighed overdramatically, and leaned back fully against the seat. He tilted his head ever so slightly towards Derek, and then, and then, Derek didn’t know how-or why, but there was like this light bulb that when off in Stiles’ brain.
Or something close to that, something like a light bulb that Satan had decided to influence.
Suddenly, Stiles (with a lot more struggle than could be considered sexy) was unbuttoning his jeans, and arching upwards to yank them off around his ankles. Next, he pulled his shirt up over his head, and threw it into the back seat.
Derek watched this in a mixture of confusion, and shock of sheer stupidity.
“What are you even doing?” He asked with a rough tone, the kind of tone that insinuated that he wasn’t in the mood for any bullshit.
“Clearly, I’m trying to seduce you. In your car. It seemed like a good idea when I started.” Derek wasn’t sure if that meant he still thought it was a good idea or he had (as he should have) changed his mind.
But he didn’t seem to be in the mood for quitting any time soon. Not when he was on his knees on the leather chair, with one hand balancing himself on the center console and the other against Derek’s seat.
His cheeks were flushed, and the sudden motion was followed with his frozen uncertainty. The action was bold-one of the bolder moves that Stiles had ever made. Of course, Derek would have to inform him when he was older that this was not how you seduce people.
Especially while wearing Batman boxers with matching socks.
Stiles moved just an inch forward, he brought his knees a little more closer, but his hands remained exactly where they were before.
“Derek just once. Fuck me just once, and I’ll be good, I’ll be happy for the next two years.”
Derek was not proud of what happened next.
It wasn’t because Stiles’ voice had this slight whimper to it, this little addition of need and want in it. It wasn’t because Stiles was scooting his hands closer to him in jaunty very unsmooth motions, or that he was making that face of his when he knew he was right, and tried to convince others of so.
It was Stiles hips. They thrusts forward just once, and ever so slightly against the air, just a little to make him wobble in his stance. That, and because that action was not part of Stiles whole ‘seduction’ act. Derek knew this, by how that rush of heat flew to his face, and his pulse sped up rapidly just for a second, the rush that embarrassment gives you, before dwindling down.
“Jesus Stiles, just sit back down.” Derek could actually physically feel his resolve crumbling. He could feel it being torn away carefully, and he hated it. He hated it because it meant Stiles was winning.
He did not want to have sex with a minor, he did not want to have sex with a minor, he did not want to have sex with a-
“Just once, that’s all I’m asking for. That’s not so bad is it?” Stiles’ voice sounded drunk, drunk on nothing, drunk on the situation. Derek could see that bulge in his boxers, how Stiles was hard from just anticipation.
Fucking teenagers.
Then in a flurry of motion, Stiles let his hands fall, and his head drop into Derek’s lap. At first, he didn’t know if this was intentional or not, but then he quickly learned that it indeed was. Stiles was instantly nuzzling and licking the fabric.
Suddenly, his head shot up and he was grinning at Derek like he had won a prize. “You’re hard! I knew it! Ha! Mr. I’m-a-grumpy-wolf-who-will-never-let-Stiles-get-any-is-tota-”
Derek’s three fingers were inside of Stiles’ mouth before he could say anything else. He growled out the next words, but each were pronounced clear, harsh, “You have no idea what you’re getting yourself into.” Stiles tongue was all over Derek’s fingers licking, sucking, getting them as wet as possible. “You don’t even know anything Stiles. You haven’t done anything.”
Stiles reply was muffled, “Mhy Finngrs.”
The position was awkward, and it needed to change in order for anything to work. He reached at Stiles seat, and flipped the switch so it fell backwards at an obtuse angle. Then, with a rougher shove then necessary, he pushed Stiles so he fell against the door, and his head bumped into the window.
“Ow! Hey Derek! That wasn’t cool man, I’m gonna bruise!” He rubbed the back of his head tentatively, but only for a second, before his legs were pulled out and apart. With the new space his pushed-back seat allowed, Derek could spread them out as long as his knees were still bent, and right over the console. This position let Stiles head right under the handle, and with Derek seats cocked back he was able to sit sideways a little more comfortably.
This was…better.
He slipped Stiles’ boxers off easily, and threw them somewhere in the backseat.
“You’re really gonna fuck me? Seriously? It worked? And in a car too!”
Derek grunted. Then he slipped his finger inside Stiles, watching as the ring of his muscle twitch and resist for a second before allowing the finger inside. Derek checked for signs of pain-and sure Stiles looked like he was in a little bit of discomfort, but that all ended when he moved further inside.
When he moved further inside and twisted his finger, and hit something that caused Stiles to make a noise somewhere between a moan and a yelp, a noise that had Derek feeling smug.
“Do you even know how this works?” He wiggled the finger around, testing Stiles’ incredibly tight insides, and brushing that spot so lightly again.
“O-of course I do. I have the Internet, you know. And it’s not like I haven’t tried it on myself before, I mean I’m not dumb.” And then Derek pulled his finger out, and added another, both diving in at once, and split Stiles open just a little more.
This time Stiles kind of gasped, or at least there was a little disruption in his breathing pattern. Especially when both fingers returned to the same place the previous one was before, and began to scissor him open, first with small motion and then bigger-wider.
Derek pretty much ignored his prior statement, well almost all of it. “My fingers are bigger than yours huh Stiles?”
Stiles groaned, and after adjusting to the feeling of Derek’s fingers for another ten seconds, he moved his hips ever so slightly as an indication for more. Derek began to move them in and out, in and out quicker, hitting his prostate each time, and then pulling out entirely to watch Stiles squirm and rock back at Derek for more.
“I can move faster than yours can, I fill you more than you can.” Then, Derek added a third. He slid it in so sneakily, so easily, that maybe for that burn he felt, he wouldn’t have noticed.
Stiles head shot up, and he tried to look down at what Derek was doing, “Wh-what, wh-what is that?!”
Derek tried not to smirk, tried not to give in, and instead rolled his eyes. “My fingers, moron. What else could it be?”
Then he splayed his fingers out, before rubbing against that spot, rubbing and touching and stroking, until Stiles’ response was gone, and he was trembling all over. Pre-come was dripping out of his cock onto his abdomen, and the leather seat, and Derek had taken himself out of his jeans so he could pump himself slowly.
“It’s just-a lot.” Stiles murmured, voice lost, words probably didn’t even register to him.
But Derek quirked an eyebrow, “If you think this is a lot, then how are you going to fit my dick?” He pulled the three out and plunged them back in, before repeating the actions over and over. “My cock is so much bigger than this, and you can’t even take more?”
Stiles’ eyes were on fire, and his mouth was set in a defiant, angry line. He glared up at Derek and demanded, very clearly, “More.”
So Derek slipped in his forth finger, his pinky just inside, but it was almost impossible to move them in and out with his thumb just along the edge, so he had to deal with just wiggling them still, and letting Stiles rock back as much as he could.
Stiles was totally lost now. His body arching into the fingers, his body was shaking. The pre-come was all over him, and his hands were looking for something to grab onto. While, Derek was getting close, just from the sight of this, just from Stiles so ready, so willing, so eager, and so turned on.
“I’m gonna come, fuck me before I come, please Derek, come on.” Stiles was whimpering, whining, begging, and even though he was pleading for Derek to fuck him before he orgasm; he was still thrusting back like his life depended on it.
“You’re not ready.” Derek huffed out, while his hand squeezed on his own cock, he was so close so close. His hand was starting to hurt he was so close.
“Please, Derek, come on, something, something, more.”
Derek obeyed and slipped his thumb in. His hand shifted only a little so that his knuckles fit, and almost immediately as Stiles felt them, he came. Derek thought he could feel the car rock, because Stiles cry was enough to cause the earth to move.
Derek reached his orgasm a second later, he stained his jeans, and seat but couldn’t give a fuck. And as he removed his hand so carefully, to cause Stiles the least amount of pain what so ever, Stiles only had one thing to say to him.
“That was pretty awesome, but you still didn’t fuck me, you bastard.”
_________
Derek received a text later on that night from Stiles. He wasn’t surprised at what the message was hinting at, given at how he still wanted Derek even after what had happened. It was simple, and anyone looking over Derek’s shoulder would not assume anything, but Derek knew, he knew that there was nothing innocent about it.
I’ll come over tomorrow, okay?
Derek doubted that Stiles would ever visit him with good intentions.
Rating: NC-17
Fandom: Teen Wolf Derek/Stiles
Warning: Sex
Summary: When it came to sex, Derek always thought Stiles would be nervous, awkward, and reluctant. He couldn't be more wrong.
People could call Stiles a lot of things. Annoying, loud-mouthed, intelligent, clumsy, but two things people always skimmed to skim over or take in consideration lightly, were the two that were the biggest pain in Derek’s ass.
Determined, and distracting. Actually throw in a little bit of confusion of morale in there, and the fact Stiles could go from normal to completely aroused at the speed of light-then it was spot on.
Oh wait, one more of Stiles’ characteristics, the fact that he was sixteen. Sixteen, distracting, determined, with a current confusion of morale, and incredibly aroused did not mix well together.
Add in Derek’s car, and the combination was down right combustible.
“Think of it this way, in a parallel world there may be a Stiles who is eighteen. What if you pretend I’m that Stiles, and that way it’s totally legal?” He offered the idea with a demonstration with his hands of how that was entirely and completely possible.
Derek kept driving.
“We could just pull over, it’s dark, and I mean you can’t just say that you totally are unaffected, because I know that even super humans would be turned on.” Stiles waved his arms in an attempt to gesture to the past-five minutes ago-of their groping and grinding, before Derek realized things were going too quickly (in his car) and continued on his original mission to drive Stiles home.
Stiles showed up at his house that afternoon, feigning to want to talk about Scott and werewolf things, and maybe he did-but the conversation did not last very long. It could’ve been Derek’s fault sure, but he chose to blame it on Stiles.
He knew that humans couldn’t go into heat-he had attended school, but holy fuck this kid never stopped. When Derek evaded his advances first and demanded Stiles go home, it ended up at the point where he had to drive him home. Then Stiles was back at it again.
It was fucking ridiculous.
“You’re an idiot.” He grumbled and kept his eyes focused on the wheel, and not at Stiles. Stiles who was straining against his seat belt as he tried to turn around to face Derek.
“If I agree, will you put out?” When Stiles hand moved awkwardly towards Derek’s legs in perhaps the most unsubtle technique ever, Derek pulled over.
Because Stiles was being dumb. He thought when they became involved in this strange thing, this kissing, this touching-this odd new thing, that Stiles would be reluctant.
Derek thought he would want to wait till he was eighteen, that he was nervous, and unsure. Apparently, Derek was wrong.
“This” He ripped Stiles hand off of his thigh, and threw it back at him, “needs to stop.”
There was no one out at this time of night. Especially at this area of town, and Derek’s sleek black car blended into the night. It was true, Derek knew this wasn’t exactly a high populated area, there would only be a slight chance someone would see them.
No…nope.
“Aw, c’mon,” then he looked at Derek with that deadly serious look in his eye, his salesman look, the look he gave when he was trying to sell an idea even he knew was outrageous. “Just fuck me once okay? Once and then we’re good.”
“No.”
Stiles’ entire expression deflated, he sighed overdramatically, and leaned back fully against the seat. He tilted his head ever so slightly towards Derek, and then, and then, Derek didn’t know how-or why, but there was like this light bulb that when off in Stiles’ brain.
Or something close to that, something like a light bulb that Satan had decided to influence.
Suddenly, Stiles (with a lot more struggle than could be considered sexy) was unbuttoning his jeans, and arching upwards to yank them off around his ankles. Next, he pulled his shirt up over his head, and threw it into the back seat.
Derek watched this in a mixture of confusion, and shock of sheer stupidity.
“What are you even doing?” He asked with a rough tone, the kind of tone that insinuated that he wasn’t in the mood for any bullshit.
“Clearly, I’m trying to seduce you. In your car. It seemed like a good idea when I started.” Derek wasn’t sure if that meant he still thought it was a good idea or he had (as he should have) changed his mind.
But he didn’t seem to be in the mood for quitting any time soon. Not when he was on his knees on the leather chair, with one hand balancing himself on the center console and the other against Derek’s seat.
His cheeks were flushed, and the sudden motion was followed with his frozen uncertainty. The action was bold-one of the bolder moves that Stiles had ever made. Of course, Derek would have to inform him when he was older that this was not how you seduce people.
Especially while wearing Batman boxers with matching socks.
Stiles moved just an inch forward, he brought his knees a little more closer, but his hands remained exactly where they were before.
“Derek just once. Fuck me just once, and I’ll be good, I’ll be happy for the next two years.”
Derek was not proud of what happened next.
It wasn’t because Stiles’ voice had this slight whimper to it, this little addition of need and want in it. It wasn’t because Stiles was scooting his hands closer to him in jaunty very unsmooth motions, or that he was making that face of his when he knew he was right, and tried to convince others of so.
It was Stiles hips. They thrusts forward just once, and ever so slightly against the air, just a little to make him wobble in his stance. That, and because that action was not part of Stiles whole ‘seduction’ act. Derek knew this, by how that rush of heat flew to his face, and his pulse sped up rapidly just for a second, the rush that embarrassment gives you, before dwindling down.
“Jesus Stiles, just sit back down.” Derek could actually physically feel his resolve crumbling. He could feel it being torn away carefully, and he hated it. He hated it because it meant Stiles was winning.
He did not want to have sex with a minor, he did not want to have sex with a minor, he did not want to have sex with a-
“Just once, that’s all I’m asking for. That’s not so bad is it?” Stiles’ voice sounded drunk, drunk on nothing, drunk on the situation. Derek could see that bulge in his boxers, how Stiles was hard from just anticipation.
Fucking teenagers.
Then in a flurry of motion, Stiles let his hands fall, and his head drop into Derek’s lap. At first, he didn’t know if this was intentional or not, but then he quickly learned that it indeed was. Stiles was instantly nuzzling and licking the fabric.
Suddenly, his head shot up and he was grinning at Derek like he had won a prize. “You’re hard! I knew it! Ha! Mr. I’m-a-grumpy-wolf-who-will-never-let-Stiles-get-any-is-tota-”
Derek’s three fingers were inside of Stiles’ mouth before he could say anything else. He growled out the next words, but each were pronounced clear, harsh, “You have no idea what you’re getting yourself into.” Stiles tongue was all over Derek’s fingers licking, sucking, getting them as wet as possible. “You don’t even know anything Stiles. You haven’t done anything.”
Stiles reply was muffled, “Mhy Finngrs.”
The position was awkward, and it needed to change in order for anything to work. He reached at Stiles seat, and flipped the switch so it fell backwards at an obtuse angle. Then, with a rougher shove then necessary, he pushed Stiles so he fell against the door, and his head bumped into the window.
“Ow! Hey Derek! That wasn’t cool man, I’m gonna bruise!” He rubbed the back of his head tentatively, but only for a second, before his legs were pulled out and apart. With the new space his pushed-back seat allowed, Derek could spread them out as long as his knees were still bent, and right over the console. This position let Stiles head right under the handle, and with Derek seats cocked back he was able to sit sideways a little more comfortably.
This was…better.
He slipped Stiles’ boxers off easily, and threw them somewhere in the backseat.
“You’re really gonna fuck me? Seriously? It worked? And in a car too!”
Derek grunted. Then he slipped his finger inside Stiles, watching as the ring of his muscle twitch and resist for a second before allowing the finger inside. Derek checked for signs of pain-and sure Stiles looked like he was in a little bit of discomfort, but that all ended when he moved further inside.
When he moved further inside and twisted his finger, and hit something that caused Stiles to make a noise somewhere between a moan and a yelp, a noise that had Derek feeling smug.
“Do you even know how this works?” He wiggled the finger around, testing Stiles’ incredibly tight insides, and brushing that spot so lightly again.
“O-of course I do. I have the Internet, you know. And it’s not like I haven’t tried it on myself before, I mean I’m not dumb.” And then Derek pulled his finger out, and added another, both diving in at once, and split Stiles open just a little more.
This time Stiles kind of gasped, or at least there was a little disruption in his breathing pattern. Especially when both fingers returned to the same place the previous one was before, and began to scissor him open, first with small motion and then bigger-wider.
Derek pretty much ignored his prior statement, well almost all of it. “My fingers are bigger than yours huh Stiles?”
Stiles groaned, and after adjusting to the feeling of Derek’s fingers for another ten seconds, he moved his hips ever so slightly as an indication for more. Derek began to move them in and out, in and out quicker, hitting his prostate each time, and then pulling out entirely to watch Stiles squirm and rock back at Derek for more.
“I can move faster than yours can, I fill you more than you can.” Then, Derek added a third. He slid it in so sneakily, so easily, that maybe for that burn he felt, he wouldn’t have noticed.
Stiles head shot up, and he tried to look down at what Derek was doing, “Wh-what, wh-what is that?!”
Derek tried not to smirk, tried not to give in, and instead rolled his eyes. “My fingers, moron. What else could it be?”
Then he splayed his fingers out, before rubbing against that spot, rubbing and touching and stroking, until Stiles’ response was gone, and he was trembling all over. Pre-come was dripping out of his cock onto his abdomen, and the leather seat, and Derek had taken himself out of his jeans so he could pump himself slowly.
“It’s just-a lot.” Stiles murmured, voice lost, words probably didn’t even register to him.
But Derek quirked an eyebrow, “If you think this is a lot, then how are you going to fit my dick?” He pulled the three out and plunged them back in, before repeating the actions over and over. “My cock is so much bigger than this, and you can’t even take more?”
Stiles’ eyes were on fire, and his mouth was set in a defiant, angry line. He glared up at Derek and demanded, very clearly, “More.”
So Derek slipped in his forth finger, his pinky just inside, but it was almost impossible to move them in and out with his thumb just along the edge, so he had to deal with just wiggling them still, and letting Stiles rock back as much as he could.
Stiles was totally lost now. His body arching into the fingers, his body was shaking. The pre-come was all over him, and his hands were looking for something to grab onto. While, Derek was getting close, just from the sight of this, just from Stiles so ready, so willing, so eager, and so turned on.
“I’m gonna come, fuck me before I come, please Derek, come on.” Stiles was whimpering, whining, begging, and even though he was pleading for Derek to fuck him before he orgasm; he was still thrusting back like his life depended on it.
“You’re not ready.” Derek huffed out, while his hand squeezed on his own cock, he was so close so close. His hand was starting to hurt he was so close.
“Please, Derek, come on, something, something, more.”
Derek obeyed and slipped his thumb in. His hand shifted only a little so that his knuckles fit, and almost immediately as Stiles felt them, he came. Derek thought he could feel the car rock, because Stiles cry was enough to cause the earth to move.
Derek reached his orgasm a second later, he stained his jeans, and seat but couldn’t give a fuck. And as he removed his hand so carefully, to cause Stiles the least amount of pain what so ever, Stiles only had one thing to say to him.
“That was pretty awesome, but you still didn’t fuck me, you bastard.”
_________
Derek received a text later on that night from Stiles. He wasn’t surprised at what the message was hinting at, given at how he still wanted Derek even after what had happened. It was simple, and anyone looking over Derek’s shoulder would not assume anything, but Derek knew, he knew that there was nothing innocent about it.
I’ll come over tomorrow, okay?
Derek doubted that Stiles would ever visit him with good intentions.