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"Why are you touching me, asshole? Where did you even come from? Did you follow me here?" Stiles demanded as Derek all but shoved him into the bathroom of the hole in the wall club they were in.
Stiles had specifically chosen it because it was three towns over and guaranteed him complete solitude from anyone in Beacon Hills who might get wind that he was exploring his bisexuality at clubs, or so he thought.
"Dude, all I wanted was a little Stiles alone time, if you know what I mean." Stiles yells as he spins around on his heels to see Derek locking the door. Derek turns to meet his gaze with a furious one of his own.
"'Stiles alone time' requires you with your dick in your hand and me gracefully pretending I don't notice the smell when I come over. It doesn't require you driving this far away just to have some asshole grind all up on your ass while giving a hickey and calling it dancing when he's probably planning to drug and kill you when he's done."
"W-Whaat? That wasn't me. I was working up the courage to ask that blonde waitress if she'd like to go out sometime. Plus, there's nothing wrong with switching up my sex life every now and again." Stiles sputtered.
Derek, looking increasingly more livid by the second, grabbed Stiles by the wrist and shoved him against the door. He kept Stiles' wrist in his hand as he leaned forward, breath teasing at his ear.
"Don't lie to me. I can see the hickey and can smell him all over you." Stiles shivered at the sound of Derek that close to him. He knows he's been caught and lying is basically impossible when dealing with a werewolf, and yet it doesn't stop him from trying.
"Bumping up against people is basically a requirement for a club as small as this. I'd be surprised if you couldn't smell almost every person I've bumped into tonight. Now let me-" A rumble cuts him off and the words die in his chest along with his hopes of the situation ever being dropped.
"Are you really going to play dumb? Shall I remind you what happened?" Derek asked as he nipped Stiles' ear. Derek sidled closer as he wrapped his arm around his center. “Do you really need a refresher on how that guy’s dick was slowly working its way to the cleft of your ass because your fucking pants leave nothing to the imagination? How about the way you threw your head back onto his shoulder as his hand worked its way into your pants? He didn’t let you come though, did he? No, he came in his pants and gave you this hickey.”
Derek put his finger over the said hickey and pushes, causing Stiles’ knees to go weak. Derek’s right at his ear, then. Nipping at it for the second time that night before Stiles even realizes what's happening. “I’ll let you come, Stiles. I’ll give you what you came for.”
And just like that, Stiles's world had made a complete 180 because what the actual fuck was Derek Hale, sex god of all sex gods, doing to Stiles?
His heart sped up and Derek took notice. "You like that idea? You want my hands where his have been? Erasing his scent and touch with mine?"
How could he say no to that? Stiles would be lying if he said he'd never thought about it. About Derek Hale and his muscles that won't quit picking him up and fucking him across the island in his kitchen after the pack has left. About taking Derek's dick in his mouth just to see if it all fits.
Derek inhales from the side of Stiles’ neck and that unleashed something feral from within him. Stiles finds himself without any pants and hurled onto the bathroom counter within a matter of seconds. “Fucking Jesus.” he lets out between bated breaths. Derek being the bastard he is doesn’t even let up.
Dropping down to his knees, Derek takes Stiles’ underwear with him and swallows his dick like it’s the best thing he’s ever tasted. Stiles’ wail of approval is all Derek needs to set a ruthless pace of mouth/hand combinations that would rival even the best pornstar’s ability. He’s just on the edge when Derek pulls off and flips him over without warning.
The first swipe of tongue he feels against his hole has him grabbing at Derek’s arm beside him on the counter. He was going to say something about Derek manhandling him but fuck him, for once in his life Stiles Stilinski has nothing to say. Derek keeps at it until Stiles is nothing but a blob spreading his ass out on the counter for him. His orgasam somewhat surprises him and he ends up with his ass in the air while his face presses into Derek’s arm. Derek’s hand finds its way into Stiles’ hair and gently pulls him up enough to have them flush together, his back to Derek’s stomach. He finds Derek’s mouth attached at his neck, biting down a little harder than he would like him too. It sends shocks of pleasure straight to his dick just the same.
“Did I break you?” Derek chuckles as he comes up for air. “I always thought sex with you would be louder. I imagined it as a rough, loud, leaving scratches on my back kind of fuck.”
And if Stiles never looks at any more porn for the rest of his life, it would still be ok because Derek Hale thinks of what it would be like to fuck him and probably jacks off to it. He searches for the right words to say because ‘Fuck me like one of your french girls’ keeps popping in his head and while he thinks Derek would get the picture, he has no time for jokes because if he doesn’t get a dick in him right now he’ll probably combust and die.
“You better put your fucking dick into me and give me that kind of fuck, Der” is what eventually comes out after Derek’s had his fingers pumping in and out of him for a few minutes, screwing them in and out of him so fast that he considered it a miracle that he got anything out of his mouth at all.
Derek hums in approval and he finds himself being flipped over to his back. He looks Derek in the face as Derek slides into him. Digging his nails into Derek’s wrist as he bottoms out is the only thing keeping him from proposing right then and there because if you find someone whose dick works this kind of magic on you by just bottoming out, you should put a ring on it.
Without warning, Derek lifts them up off the counter and pushes Stiles’ back up against the door. The angle is enough to have him wailing and Derek’s smile is blinding. “Fuck, Stiles, That’s it baby. Get loud for me. Daddy wants to hear you.”
That one single word has Stiles throwing his head back because goddamn, Derek Hale is actually kinky as fuck and likes to be called daddy.
Derek latches his mouth onto the exposed part of Stiles’ neck and starts fucking up into Stiles with abandon,pegging his prostate. Stiles has no choice but to wrap his arms around his neck and hold on for dear life. “Jesus fucking christ, Der. Fucking fuck, give me your dick.”
“Yeah, you like daddy’s dick? You like the way it slides against your prostate with every thrust because it’s so big? You want daddy to give you his fat knot so you can fuck yourself on it?” Stiles digs his nails into Derek’s back as hard as he can because fuck yes he wants Derek’s knot so far in him that he can’t find a way to sit on it without tugging deliciously at his hole. “Fuck, daddy. Give me your big fucking knot.”
Derek seemed to be spurred on by his words and the stinging sensation of Stiles’ nails biting into his skin because one minute he was being stellarly fucked against a bathroom door and the next he’s finding himself on his hands and knees on the dirty bathroom floor while Derek uses his werewolf speed to plow into him.
Derek latches his fingers into Stiles’s hair and uses it to pull him back against his dick with every thrust until Stiles gets the picture and starts doing it himself. “That’s it baby, slide back on daddy’s dick. Fuck, you look so good spread open over my cock like this.” Derek says while he smacks Stiles’ ass.
The funny thing is, he never realized he liked things like getting his ass smacked during sex or the litany of filth that spills out of Derek’s otherwise stoic mouth until Derek did those things to him. He felt as if he was having an out of body experience when he hears himself speaking. “Der, Fuck. Do that again, daddy. Spank me, Der. I’ve been a bad boy but now I want to be good for my daddy.”
“Goddammit, Stiles” Derek all but growls as he gives a few quick slaps to Stiles’ cheeks as he resituates them with Stiles splayed out obscenely on Derek’s lap. He pauses to make sure he’s still inside Stiles before fully giving in to his urge to claim.
Derek cups his hands on his ass and moves Stiles up and down on his dick like he’s nothing more than a rag doll. “You’re daddy’s little slut, aren’t you baby? Hold yourself open for daddy so he can knot your pretty ass.” And fuck, if he didn’t hold himself open faster than anything he’s ever done in his life.
“Yeah, make me yours, daddy. Fill me up with your knot so I’ll feel it every time I move. Fuck, next time I want you to knot my mouth. Give me your knot, Der, please.”
Derek’s thrusts begin to falter and he splays both hands against Stiles’ hips to keep him still, fingers probably leaving bruises. Stiles feels this overwhelming pressure as Derek bottoms out in him one more time and then the knot is there, pushing up against his prostate and not moving away from it. Derek’s come doesn’t make it any easier, either, since every spurt hits him in the same fucking spot and doesn’t let up.
“Fuck, FUCK.” Stiles keens as he tries to move himself to alleviate the pressure. “Fuck, Stiles the way you groan should be illegal.” Derek says as he finally finishes his load. Derek wrapps a hand around Stiles’ dick and uses a finger from his other hand to trace around his hole, feeling how absolutely stretched he is around his knot before starting to jack Stiles with an unforgiving pace.
“Daddy.” Stiles whispers as he bucks up into Derek’s hand once, twice, and then he’s spurting his second load all over Derek’s fist. Derek wastes no time in bringing the hand up to his face and sucking the come from between his fingers, never breaking eye contact with Stiles.
“Fucking hell, I’m sure this is the sex brain talking, but I need to marry your dick. Like, I could write fucking sonnets about this dick and it still wouldn’t do the sex justice.”
“Shut up, Stiles. I’m not Ross Gellar. When I marry you, it’ll be for more than that great ass of yours.”
“Oh my fucking god, Derek. We just had sex and you make a Friends joke. You better be glad the sex was fan-fuckingtastic because otherwise, I’d dump your ass right now.”
Derek lets out a snort. “Like you’d ever dump me.”
“You’re right,” Stiles says as he kisses Derek’s nose.
“I think I’ll keep you.”