it’s @artemis69‘s birthday!! happy birthday baby! guys she is one of the nicest people, i swear to god, her lovely amazing words have kept me going when i thought why am i even doing this more times than i care to admit, so just wish this beautiful person a happy birthday okay
here you go baby alpha!derek + fake relationship + bamf!stiles with a side of awesome erica ❤
There’s a
lot Stiles should take into account before he does this: the fact that he’s a
weak little human surrounded by several alphas, the fact that Scott is shaking
his head vehemently looking mildly
panicked, the fact that this could ruin a lot of treaties with a lot of people,
the fact that he’s not even really
dating Derek, the fact that he shouldn’t sully the name of the Hale pack so
early in their efforts to restore it.Stiles knows he shouldn’t do this, but Stiles
also isn’t famous for having any kind of survival instincts or keeping his
mouth shut in high stress situations, so.“What did
you say about my alpha?” he spits, getting up so fast that his chair topples
back with and smacks loudly on the floor in the suddenly quiet room.The alpha
in question smirks like the complete douchebag he is.“I said he
was a weak little bitch who is stupid
enough to pick the runts of the littler as his betas.”“Stiles,
don’t,” Scott whispers.Erica is
grinding her teeth next to him and stands up a second after he does, a low
growl coming from her throat.“And,” the big douchebag continues,
“you’re his useless, weak little fuckhole.”Stiles is
overcome with the kind of serene anger that once let him take down an entire coven
of witches without batting an eye.“You know
what?” he says, sugary sweet as he goes around the table, shaking his sleeve
and calling to his magic until his bat drops down. “You’re right. I’m his
little fuckhole, his bitch if you
want to, and you know what?”The alpha
is smirking, clearly not seeing Stiles as a threat.He throws a
glance at the table just to make sure Erica is getting with the program, and
indeed she is, advancing behind him and keeping at the edges of the circle that
has formed around them, making sure no one interrupts Stiles’ little show.“I bend
over when he asks me to,” he says and takes the baseball bat to the alpha’s
stomach, just a tad too fast to be human, and the alpha bends over with the
force of the impact of the mountain ash. “I go on my knees when he asks to.”
All it takes is a pulse of electricity as Stiles slaps on the back of the
alpha’s neck to get him on his knees. “I roll over when he asks to.” Another
blow with the bat to the alpha’s back makes him go down hard. “And I beg when
he asks to,” Stiles say, sweet as you please, pressing his foot down on the
alpha’s throat, the wolfsbane blade he has strapped on his uncle glinting and
keeping the alpha in place.Sudden
movement in the corner of his eye catches his attention and he turns just in
time to see Erica take down one of the alpha’s betas.Atta girl.
She steps
on them, mimicking Stiles’ moves and smirks, throwing her hair over her
shoulder.“Who’s the
little bitch now?”Stiles
allows himself to smirk down at the alpha, tasting victory in the back of his
throat.“What the
hell is going on here?” Derek’s voice snaps through the air like a whip and
makes both Erica and Stiles wince.Stiles
looks up apologetically, and Erica slinks off the beta and back to where the
rest of the pack stood to watch.“He was
trash talking you,” Stiles explains, gesturing vaguely for the alpha gasping
for breath under his foot.Derek
pinches the bridge of his nose.“Stiles,
would you please stop humiliating one of the most influential alphas from
California and come back here.”Stiles
huffs and steps over the man’s body, putting all his weight on his throat for a
second before he strides towards Derek, who immediately grabs him by the back
of his neck and shakes him.“Stop doing
stupid shit like this for me.”Stiles
wouldn’t say that he pouts, except for the fact that he might pout a little bit.“You weren’t
here to defend yourself, it’s my job to do it when you can’t.”Derek gives
him another shake and Stiles really oughta be worried with the fact that he has
his back to the alpha he just humiliated in the middle of the Californian Werewolf
Convention, but Derek’s got him and he trusts Derek to keep him safe.“I’ll deal
with you later, go sit down.”“Can’t
wait,” Stiles smirks and goes to take his seat while Derek faces down the alpha
with something akin to patronizing pity.«»
Here’s the
thing: Stiles didn’t really expect for Derek to deal with him later. He’d
expected for Derek to let it go this once, just because of how utterly awesome that had been, but boy oh boy had
Stiles been wrong.“… reckless and immature, and honestly, did
you even stop to think about the consequences? You could’ve been seriously hurt, Stiles!” Derek finishes exploding,
glaring Stiles down.“Look, I
couldn’t let some random alpha tear you down, our pack, just because I could’ve gotten hurt.”“Yes, you could, that’s exactly what you should’ve done!” Derek
seems close to pulling out his hair. “If I knew this is what you would do when
Erica came up with the brilliant idea of pretending to be mates, I wouldn’t
have said yes to it.”Stiles
grits his teeth. “No need to throw in my face that I’d be a terrible mate, I
know you don’t-““That’s not what I said. Don’t put words in my
mouth. You could’ve gotten hurt, Stiles!”“So what?”
“So what the
hell would I do without you?!” Derek bursts and then goes very, very still.Stiles goes
still too, his mind grinding to a stop as the words register.“I mean,”
Derek tries to backtrack. “You’re pack, and I care about you and-““No,”
Stiles cuts him off. “No, you don’t get to-“ He shakes his head. “What would
you do without me? Seriously, Derek, you don’t- you don’t really need me, you
can do this by yourself, you can-“Derek huffs
and strides towards him, pokes him in the chest. “Maybe I don’t want to do this without you, maybe I
would be lost without you, maybe I
could’ve killed that alpha where he stood if he had hurt you in any way, and
caused a scandal. Did you think about of that?”Stiles
drops his mouth open and doesn’t dare to hope, because maybe Derek likes him.“It
would’ve been fair. You were defending your mate, right?”Derek’s
shoulders hunch and he takes a step back; Stiles takes a step forward, chasing
him.“It’s
pretend, you don’t want to-““Maybe I do. Maybe I’ve wanted it to be
real for a long time and was waiting for you to make the first move. Have you thought about that?” Stiles
punctuates his sentence by poking Derek on the chest, a mockery of his earlier
actions.“I-“ Derek
breathes out, his face morphing into an heartbreaking mask of hope. “Really?
You want to-““-date the
hell out of you. Yes, I really really
want to.”Derek
blushes, high on his ears and spreading down to his cheekbones.“Oh,” he
breathes out, soft as a sigh.“Yeah,”
Stiles grins and sways a little closer. “And maybe if you kissed me right now, I would really, really like that.”The smile
on Derek’s face is enough to make an endangered species suddenly boom back to
life.Derek moves
forward, closing the little space that was between them and brings his hand up
to frame the side of Stiles’ neck, thumbing his bottom lip playfully before he
leans forward and touches their lips together.The kiss is
the culmination of years of waiting and build up, it’s desperate and messy and
sweet and life affirming all at once.When Derek
pulls back he pulls Stiles’ breath along with him, leaving Stiles panting for
air, swallowing greedy gulps of it.“Okay,” he sighs
out, “maybe we should do that again, just, you know, to really seal the deal,
make sure that we really-“Derek cuts
him off with another kiss and Stiles smiles into this one.Kicking
that alpha’s ass was the best idea he’s had in a while.
Tag: alpha!derek
So I saw a reblog of this gif set a few weeks ago and it had a little ficlet attached to it about Derek becoming a writer, I think? Well, I saw it and BAM! Instantly I saw Derek being interviewed at a werewolf conference; the first one to ever be televised. And Stiles isn’t there so Derek’s nervous as all get out and it shows.
This is what happens when Stiles catches the interview on television later that night. Also on AO3.
The first four blocks of dialogue ‘correspond’ with the gifs from L to R
- Interviewer: So, Alpha Hale, where is your mate?
- Derek: Um…He’s at home actually.
- Interviewer: I’m surprised. He’s a favorite amongst the conference crowd. Any particular reason he didn’t accompany you this year? This conference is an important one for you and the Hale Pack, isn’t it?
- Derek: Well…
- Interviewer: Is he not a proponent for your new cause?
- Derek: He’s actually home taking care of our newborn.
- Interviewer: A newborn? I didn’t realize your mate was pregnant.
- Derek: He wasn’t. Our baby is an orphaned werewolf that we took in. He’s the reason I decided to become such an outspoken advocate for the Werewolf Foster Program.
Stiles puts the television on mute and picks up his cellphone. He presses the speed-dial for Derek’s number and brings the phone to his ear. His call is answered before the second ring is completed.
“Hey.”
“Good evening, Alpha Hale.”
Derek sighs and Stiles can almost picture him ducking his head in embarrassment.
“You saw it?”
Sitiles nods even though he knows Derek can’t see him, “I did.” He shifts against the headboard and whispers, “You looked nervous.”
“Hmm. That must be because I was.” There’s noise on the other end of the line and the Derek’s voice is muffled for a second before he’s back.
“I can let you go. If you’re busy, I mean.”
“I’m not. Just room service.”
“You didn’t eat at the conference?” Stiles looks skyward and scolds gently, “Derek, why?”
“I wasn’t hungry then.“ Derek shrugs, “Nerves, I suppose.”
Stiles shuts his eyes, “Babe, I told you to call if you got nervous. Remember?”
“I know, but I didn’t want to call and take a chance at waking the baby.”
“You big softy,” Stiles transfers the phone to his other hand and hits the vid-chat option on the screen. He angles the cellphone and smiles at the camera, “We miss you.”
A split second later, Derek’s smiling face is filling the small screen, “Feeling’s mutual, believe me.” Derek tilts his head, “He looks good there.”
“Yeah, you try holding a fussy baby for three hours straight and tell me how cute he is.” Stiles peeks down at the infant resting against his chest and rubs fingertips over his naked back when he whimpers in his sleep. “I finally thought to put on one of your shirts. He was out in like, seconds. Weirdest thing ever; fell asleep mid-cry.”
“Oh god, my scent,” Derek winces, “I’m so sorry! Stiles, I should’ve realized Cas would miss it. With everything else going on, I guess I just forgot.”
“Hey,” Stiles shifts the cellphone so that Derek can see the infant’s face, “he’s fine, babe. I finally figured it out. It might take me a while, but I think I just might get a handle on this whole raising a Pup of The Lord business.”
“Please stop calling him that.”
Stiles grins at the screen and shakes his head, “Nope. It’s his name and title. Get used to it.”
“You’re an idiot, you know that? He’s less than a month old and already he’s getting teased about his name.” Derek’s eyes flash briefly and he squints, “By his father.”
“Oh, hush, you.” Stiles sticks his tongue out at the screen and blows a tiny raspberry at Derek, “And just so you know, the eye flashy thing doesn’t work on me, Pops. So there.”
Derek rolls his eyes at the screen.
“So tell me, Alpha Hale,” Stiles grins, “How did your speech go?”
“Ugh,” Derek scowls, “It was brutal. People can be really mean when faced with change.”
“You knew that going in, Der.”
“Yeah, I know.” Derek takes a breath and blows it out slowly, “I also thought you’d be at my side during the whole thing.” Derek pauses, “It was televised, Stiles! There were so many camera crews and reporters; everyone talking at once, flashbulbs going off every few seconds. It was a madhouse and, and, and this suit you made me wear! Oh my god, Stiles it was so freaking uncomfortable. I hate you so much for buying it, I really do and-”
Stiles interrupts gently, “You looked good on tv, hon.” He smiles, “Very good, but don’t think I didn’t notice you weren’t wearing your tie.”
“Oh, shut up! You know I can’t tie a damn Windsor knot to save my life, Stiles.” Derek’s brows press together and he shakes his head, “Besides, you were supposed to be here to tie it for me, remember?”
“Yes, I remember, but hey,” Stiles waits until Derek is looking up at the camera, “Cas thinks it was great that I stayed behind. He said since he can’t quite reach the fridge yet, unless we buy him one of those feeder bowls and put it on the floor, we,” Stiles gestures between the screen and his face, “aren’t going anywhere together. So yeah, you’ll be flying solo for awhile, buddy.”
Derek licks his lips and says quietly, “You could come with me to the next one. Both of you.”
Stiles narrows his gaze, “Hmm. It would be great publicity for the cause.”
“Fuck the cause, Stiles, I want you there because you’re my husband and you’re supposed to be at my side, okay?”
“Derek Hale, watch your language!”
“Sorry, I just…”
“I know, babe.” Stiles sets the cellphone down on the bed briefly so he can shift their son up onto his shoulder, “You hate crowds.” He picks up the phone and smiles at his husband, “If Melissa says he’s okay to travel, then we’ll come with you to the next one. How’s that sound?”
Derek smiles at the screen, “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, you big doofus.”
“He’s awake.” Derek leans closer, “Hey, baby boy, did we wake you?”
Stiles peers down and sure enough, Casmir is awake, pale gray eyes fixed on the screen in front of him. His tiny fist opens and closes in response to Derek’s voice and he makes a small noise in his throat. “He’s trying to call out to you.”
Derek nods, “I know. I can hear it.”
“Really?”
“Mmm hmm.” Derek leans in further and chuffs softly at the screen, a smile lighting up his whole face when Cas makes a soft little noise in response, “I’ll let you two go. I’m sure any second now he’s going to be asking to be fed.”
Stiles yawns softly, “Yeah, probably.” He brushes his lips over Cas’ head and smiles at Derek’s expression, “Call me after the press conference tomorrow?”
Derek nods, “I will. Good night, baby boy.” He waves at their son and then looks up at Stiles, “I love you.”
“I love you too, babe. Go eat your dinner and we’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
Derek Hale Version Alpha and Beta
“six years of training and this is what you do with your magic?”
“hey! im a romantic! admit this makes you swoon even harder for me”
“never”Aka: emissary Stiles meditating and Alpha Derek who just likes his boyfriend in loose shirts and the spring air on the porch
*violently whispers “Derek Hale deserves to be a True Alpha” into the distance*
something with park ranger!derek? (wolf or not your choice) with stiles creating several situations just to have derek pay attention to him? until one day derek is in a bad mood and stiles does something dangerous to himself and derek yells at him so stiles disappears and derek has to stalk for him so he can say he’s sorry
i may have changed it a little bit
The sound of wild life was distant, the sound of visitors of the park a pleasant background noise, and the occasional wind coming in through the office’s opened door and windows was nice and made Derek relax even more than he already was from just sitting there, head tilted back and eyes closed as he took in the pleasant quiet of the nature around him.
Being out in the wild relaxed his wolf more than he thought anything ever would be able to. Out here, he didn’t feel so tense and so jumpy, something he always was out in town and even at his own apartment. There was just too much noise, too many people, and not enough of his own kind around.
Derek loved being out in nature, so being a park ranger was really the perfect job for him. Especially since he managed to convince his own pack to join him as his team of rangers as well.
Erica had been the only one to try to get out of it more than once, but she came around after the rest of them dragged her out in the wild and she got to feel the freedom and calm of the park.
She stopped arguing after that and gladly did her job like the rest of them.
‘cause Derek Hale will always be the one true alpha in my mind))))
Derek Hale
*slams fist on table* I need more werewolf!beta!Stiles learning everything he has to know from alpha!Derek in my life dammit.
Title: Not Quite Johnny Storm
Recipient: bistiles
Summary: When Stiles has a run in with a fire demon who might possibly be Satan’s mother, things go very wrong very quickly. So what’s the solution?
Soul bonding sex magic under the full moon, of course.
Rating: Explicit
A/N: So many thanks to my beta, L. Bistiles, your sign-up was amazing and gave me so many ideas! I hope you love this as much as I did writing it for you.
To the mods, you’re both so wonderful! Thank you for for all your hard work.
–
The forest leading up to the Preserve blurred around Stiles, the trees whipping past faster than normal. He half-turned, gasping and panting as he looked to see if she was closing in, only to trip over a tree root and plunge down a shallow ravine. Grabbing at his knee as it was wrenched in the fall, Stiles pushed with his magic until the pain was muted and then rolled back to his feet.
He didn’t have far to go. A few hundred yards and he’d be there, inside the wards edging the pack’s territory. He had to last a little longer. Just… a little…
A crashing noise made him sob out his next breath, and he ran, begging the universe to help him make it to the boundary.
Unfortunately… the universe wasn’t listening.
The blow hit him between the shoulders, propelling him forward too fast, too hard. He hit the packed earth on his bad knee, the pain making him white out as a scream – oh, that was his own – rent the air. When he rolled to a stop on his back, he blinked his watery eyes open and saw nothing but gleaming red lips curled back from sharp teeth and demon-black eyes.
His body too weakened by pain to fight, Stiles raised his hands and opened his mouth, blasting the creature with pure, unbound magic.
–
Stiles woke up screaming, his nerves consumed by the fire that was burning through him. Hands grabbed him, holding him down, and he didn’t try to fight them. He’d worry about outside threats when he didn’t have lava dissolving his insides.
The hands on his shoulders turned cool, banking the fire and dragging it from him one flame at a time until the roaring in his ears stopped. Body wracked by occasional sobs of pain, Stiles opened his eyes, flinching from the harsh, white lights glaring directly into his brain.
“–ilinski? Stiles! I need you to acknowledge that you can hear me.” The light blurred across his vision, then disappeared to be replaced by vivid splotches that finally resolved into the familiar face of Alan Deaton.
“Oh, fuck.” In a more lucid moment, Stiles would have chosen wittier words to greet the fact that he was not actually being tortured in the fiery depths of hell. But the stark honesty of the phrase encapsulated exactly how he felt about not just being awake and in pain, but waking up in pain on Deaton’s table.
Stiles didn’t trust Deaton. The man was all the bad parts of both Dumbledore and Voldemort, evidenced by his willingness to sacrifice teenagers to his cause and his bald head.
“I’ll assume you’re back with us.”
A low whimper echoed around him, and for a minute, Stiles thought it had come from himself. But then he felt those heavenly ice-hands clench, and he rolled his eyes from one side to the other to see both Scott and Derek straining, their faces creased in painful grimaces as the red from Scott’s alpha eyes and the blue from Derek’s glowed through their eyelids.
Huh. Cool party trick.
“What are…” Stiles looked down and to the right to see that Scott’s veins were throbbing. It looked like snakes were slithering up under the skin of his arms, which made Stiles’ stomach turn. He didn’t need to look to know that Derek’s were the same; he could feel Derek pulling the scorching pain from him.
“You’ve been dabbling in magic.” Deaton’s voice was as bland as usual, but Stiles caught the undercurrent of criticism.
“Yep. Started about,” Stiles had to pause to cough, his throat feeling like it had when he’d caught strep in third grade, “five years ago. Some dude gave me a huge bag of magical ash and told me to believe. Because a seventeen year old high school student with no supernatural talent should definitely be the one to keep a murderous lizard monster contained.” If Stiles hadn’t already been laid out on the exam table, he would have collapsed backward in exhaustion after that rant.
“Be that as it may,” Deaton murmured, apparently unconcerned with Stiles’ opinion of him. “Your dabbling has had consequences. When you unleashed the full force of your magic on the…”
“Caorthannach,” Stiles supplied with a grimace. While Deaton turned toward the Cabinet of Smelly Things™ with a long-suffering sigh, Stiles explained to Scott, “A caorthannach is–“
“The devil’s mother. A fire demon?!” Derek hissed, face lined with a combination of pain and incredulity.
“Hey! Calm your judgy tits, dude. I’m the injured party here. Let me explain.” Stiles paused, considering. “No, there is too much. Let me sum up. I insulted a fire demon who might be Satan’s mother after I met her at a bar and invited her back to my place. She burned my apartment down – with my phone inside – and pursued me back to good ol’ BH, where she spat a fireball on the Jeep, which is now, hah, toast, and…” Stiles’ words croaked to a halt, half because his throat was fucking parched and half because Derek’s hold was getting painful.
Also, Derek was whining, high and fearful.
Which, yeah, things burning to the ground was probably not a good mental image for him.
By the time Derek realized what he was doing and let up a little, Stiles was ready to continue. "She caught up to me before I could cross our wards. I thought I was going to die, so I just… believed. I believed that my magic could stop her.“
Everyone went quiet with a stillness that was a little unnerving, prompting Stiles to look around. "What? What haven’t you told me?”
“Well,” Scott said with forced cheer. “You definitely stopped her.”
“Okay. That’s good, right?” When Scott bit his lip, avoiding Stiles’ gaze, Stiles demanded, “Right?”
“It appears that whatever you did drew her power – too much for the human form to contain – into your body,” Deaton called from across the room. "For the moment, we can alleviate the symptoms with this.“ Deaton held up a bottle filled with clear liquid. "The long-term solution will require a bit of time and planning.” Then his lips curled into a tight smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. "But congratulations. You did destroy her. I assumed, considering her complete transformation to stone, that she was a gorgon.“
"I… turned her to stone?”
“She was an ancient being whose existence was dependent on her power. When you eliminated it, her corporeal form became petrified.”
Stiles tried to organize the chaos in his mind, numbly accepting the bottle as Deaton extended it toward him. "What’s this?“
"Holy water to combat the hellfire currently consuming you.”
“Oh. No Johnny Storm transformation for me, huh?” Stiles shrugged and tipped his head up, wincing as he strained his already over-taxed muscles. The first sip just… tasted like water, but with each consecutive swallow the fire inside him was slowly extinguished. "You have chosen wisely,“ Stiles quoted under his breath when the bottle was finally empty and his body felt somewhat normal again.
Staring into the empty glass, Stiles asked idly, "So what’s the long-term solution, then?”
–
Derek paced restlessly, unable to sit comfortably due to the plug seated in his ass.
“Soul bonding sex magic under the full moon,” Stiles muttered, his voice reaching Derek even though he was halfway across the clearing. "I swear my life is like a bad MTV reality show, only instead of 16 And Pregnant, it’s … 21 And Furry or something.“
"You’re human,” Derek reminded him, eyes cast skyward as he tracked the path of the moon across the sky.
“I’m obviously the plucky sidekick to Scott’s main character.” Stiles went quiet for a moment, then sighed. "Dude, I know we’ve already discussed this, but–“
"Enough, Stiles. I’m not being a ‘self-sacrificing idiot.’” Derek had heard enough of that phrase over the last month to last him a lifetime.
Stiles picked at the soles of his shoes for a while, struggling with an emotion Derek didn’t recognize by scent before he broke under the strain of the quiet. "I just don’t like this,“ Stiles finally blurted out.
Stumbling to a halt, Derek turned toward Stiles, horror filling him. For all that Stiles had been adamant to ensure Derek didn’t feel forced into this bonding ritual… maybe Stiles did?
Obviously reacting to whatever Derek’s face was doing, Stiles waved his hands and squawked. "No, no! I’m not withdrawing consent! I promise. It’s just–” Stiles’ shoulders drew up as he fumbled for words. "Our whole schtick is saving each other. But this time, it’s you saving me for the rest of my life. And possibly dying. If that happens… I can’t save you back.“ Stiles plucked at a frayed thread on his jeans. "And… I don’t want you to die.”
Derek dropped to his knees before Stiles, losing his breath a little when the plug in his ass shifted. But the fear in Stiles’ eyes brought him back on topic quickly. “Hey. Stop that. I’m a born wolf; my body can handle the power. I won’t die.”
Stiles held up a finger. "But you could.“
"Fine,” Derek huffed. "If I do, I’m dragging you to hell with me, so we’ll be even. Again.“
"But… if we do this, it’s forever. We’d basically be married.” Stiles’s gaze wandered over Derek’s face, making him wonder exactly what Stiles saw. “You’d be stuck with me forever.”
Derek’s hand came up, hovering just under Stiles’ jaw when he almost forgot himself, almost touched and ruined the ritual. "Not stuck. I volunteered, remember? You…” He dropped his hand again, fingers clenching into a fist at his side.
“Hey, now,” Stiles muttered, stretching his own fingers out only to snatch them back. “I’m not exactly in tears over my fate here. Pretty sure my thing for you has been obvious to the most casual observer since day one.“ Stiles stared at him expectantly, then finally prompted, "Now you tell me I was pretty.”
Derek snorted, amused and horrified in equal measure at the very thought. “You were sixteen with a buzz cut.”
“Awww, did you have awkward boners for my jailbait ass?”
“No.” Derek rolled to his feet to continue pacing, done with that conversation.
“Ouch. Cold, dude.” Stiles clutched his chest, though his scent smelled warm and happy. "Okay, well! Lucky for you, adult me has a few tricks up my sleeve. Because obviously we’re doing this, but we have to time it right. Which means I get to bang that booty at the moon’s zenith, but no touchy-touchy before then because I have to be ‘pure of body.’ And let me tell you, remaining pure of body this week has been hell.“
Derek groaned softly, that mental image enough to make his ass clench down on the plug and steal his breath again. Had the moon ever risen so slowly? Then, because bantering with Stiles was always a good way to pass the time, he muttered, "Just because there is porn on the internet doesn’t mean you’re required to watch it, Stiles.”
“Thanks for the tip, asshole.”
Derek stopped pacing just to widen his eyes in faux concern. "It has to be more than just the tip, Stiles. Though I am glad to know you’re concerned about my asshole.“
Affecting an air of cockiness, Stiles leaned back on his hands, thrusting his crotch into the air. "Haven’t you been practicing with the Ass Blaster 3000?” Cackling at the way Derek’s face twisted, Stiles finally calmed enough to say, “Seriously, though. Remember Robb?”
Derek’s hands curled into fists to hide the way his claws edged out at that name as jealousy coiled through him. "Do you honestly think this is the appropriate time to mention your incubus ex?“
Snorting, Stiles rolled his eyes. "Robb was less an ex and more a fuck buddy of the incubus persuasion.”
Derek turned away, his eyes glowing blue.
“Really, he was one of the people helping me figure out the whole magic thing and since he was a–”
“Sex demon?”
“Exactly! Most of what we did was sex magic. Less ‘soul bonding under the light of the full moon’ and more ‘edge your partner from across the room,’ though. And since we have time to kill, I thought…” Stiles wiggled his fingers, grinning.
Derek’s breath caught. "Stiles, you can’t–“
”Pure in body were the exact words Deaton used. And technically I’m not doing anything to make my body impure.“
This time when Stiles’ fingers twitched, Derek felt them. Ghostly touches that stroked down his sides and tripped over his hipbones before dragging up to circle his nipples.
"Stiles,” Derek warned, hands clenching.
“Yeah?”
“You–”
Stiles flicked his fingers again, grinning when the top button on Derek’s jeans popped open. "You should probably take those off.“ He coughed, licking his lips. "No need for modesty now.”
Derek stared at Stiles for a long moment, using his senses to cheat a little. To smell the arousal, the want rolling off Stiles. And then, because no one brought out the asshole in him like Stiles Stilinski, Derek stepped forward, close enough to really touch, and performed the slowest, most lewd strip tease of his life. By the time he was done, Stiles’ jeans were straining at the zipper, his every breath a low moan.
When he was finally completely nude, Derek turned and reached back, spreading his ass cheeks to show off the thick, black plug splitting him open.
“Fuck,” Stiles groaned, his hand drifting toward his own dick, forcing Derek to make a sharp sound.
“No touching.”
Stiles nodded, eyes hungrily tracking the way the light gleamed across Derek’s body. He curled his fingers, then spread them, and pure magic jolted through Derek, latching onto the threads of his arousal and tugging, pulling it to the surface.
Derek cried out, dropping to his knees again, claws cutting into his own thighs as he felt the beta shift take him, control stripped away in the face of the pure lust blowing through his body.
“Whoa,” Stiles breathed, his scent sharpening further with arousal.
Derek looked up, blinking. "This… is okay?“
"Dude, you are beautiful in every form.” Stiles shrugged, hips twitching, humping the air. "And, I mean, seeing you lose control because of me? Yeah, that’s… fucking hot.“
Derek’s lips curled into a fierce smile when he heard Stiles’ heart racing and his breath stuttering, arousal bleeding off him. "I think you just have a danger kink.”
“I think I have a you kink,” Stiles muttered.
The air shifted, magic and power filling the clearing. Derek lifted his nose, scenting it, eyes tracking the moon. "Strip,“ he growled. "It’s almost time.”
“Yeah, okay.” Stiles wasted no time, shoving at his own clothing until his jeans and underwear were bunched around his ankles, his arm caught at an awkward angle when his shirt didn’t come free of his head.
Derek crawled toward Stiles, slipping his shoes – and his jeans and underwear – off his feet while very deliberately not touching his skin. And then he dragged his hands along Stiles’ legs, keeping them far away enough to avoid contact, but so close the dark hair on Stiles’ thighs stood on end, reaching toward him.
“Please,” Stiles whispered, shifting his hips.
Derek looked up, met Stiles’ dark, pleading gaze and leaned in… close enough for his humid breath to bathe Stiles’ straining, red cock, but not actually touching.
“Derek!”
Derek raised an eyebrow, filled with a dark joy at watching Stiles come undone from just a little teasing.
Eyes narrowing, Stiles lifted his hands, doing something that made the plug in Derek’s ass feel like it was vibrating.
“You… bastard,” Derek coughed, choking on his own arousal as his body clenched with need.
And then the power of the moon blew over them both, forcing Stiles to his knees. "Take out the plug, take it out. Oh my god, you slow bastard, I’ll do it myself!“ Stiles, exhibiting a strength that always shocked Derek no matter how many times he experienced it, pushed Derek over onto his back, long fingers gripping Derek’s thighs only to lift and push them, pressing his knees almost into his chest.
Derek grabbed them, allowing Stiles to twist the plug out of his ass, making him keen wildly as he went from feeling stiff and full to too empty. Then came a sloppy splash of lube followed by the thick, living heat of Stiles pressing fully into Derek until he felt like he could taste him.
Stiles collapsed forward, one hand tangling in Derek’s hair to pull his head up, Stiles’ lips sealing over Derek’s in a wild ride of a first kiss as the moon crested and the demonic power in Stiles surged between them, rioting back and forth. It crashed through Derek painfully, too hot, burning out everything but the arousal that still rode him until it finally leveled out, leaving Derek with a too-familiar feeling.
"You okay?” Stiles asked, teeth scraping Derek’s lip.
Derek breathed out slowly, hands clenching on Stiles’ hips until his claws began to press against skin. "I’m,“ Derek started, then licked his lips and opened eyes that bathed Stiles’ face in a crimson glow. "I’m an Alpha again.” Staring at Stiles, who was stock-still on top of him, Derek let loose a wide, feral grin before he clenched down nastily, forcing a broken moan from Stiles.
“Oh god,” Stiles groaned, a small laugh burbling from him. "You’re going to be just as obnoxious about that this time around too, aren’t you?“
"Maybe,” Derek sassed, eyebrows wiggling. "What are you going to do about it?“
Stiles’ answering grin was distinctly evil as he lifted his hand and did something with his magic that drew Derek’s orgasm to the surface, only to choke it off completely. It was wild and raw and… Oh fuck. Stiles had mentioned practicing edging…
While Derek strained, hips lifting and rolling as he searched for release, Stiles cackled and sent more tendrils of magic through Derek. "Who’s the Alpha now?”
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