Person: Have you read *insert book title*?
Me: Oh, yeah! I loved that book!
Person: Great! Do you remember *insert book scene*? That was epic.
Me: Whoa. Hold on. I said I loved the book, but I honestly don’t remember a thing that happened in it.
SO THREE FOUR MONTHS LATER, have some PWP! Semi-related to @mad-madam-m and @pale-silver-comb‘s ongoingsaga of Derek Hale being rimmed into self-acceptance, but with added BDSM ❤
Where it goes wrong is the point where Derek says Stiles’ name.
He’s so fucking close to coming, all wound up and sensitive, thighs literally trembling under Stiles’ broad hands as his boyfriend does that one thing with his tongue, lathing the tender underside of Derek’s cock while he sucks him down. He’s so close to coming, a heartbeat away from it.
Only he says Stiles’ name, whimpering the syllable like a benediction. He can’t help but make the sound even though he knows he shouldn’t, and that’s it: Stiles’ mouth is gone instantly, his hands too, every source of friction, pleasure, potential release.
Not that Derek couldn’t still come. He’s on edge enough he doesn’t need to be touched, he could give himself over to that shuddering completion so easily. But…
“No,” Stiles says, all sharp authority.
Derek forces himself to obey almost on instinct and then the chance is lost. He’s painfully hard, arching wantonly despite himself, twisting on the sheets, begging for it with his body as well as his voice – Stiles, come on, please, please Stiles, let me, so good, please. He’s not sure he’d be able to resist the urge to reach down and bring himself off, fast and rough, except that his hands are tied above his head. It wouldn’t be that much of a deterrent in itself – just simple rope to their headboard, nothing werewolf resistant.
He’s perfectly aware, though, that Stiles would make him regret it.
There was a baby in the breakfast place this morning, probably about… 8 months old? Sitting in one of those attached-to-the-table sling chair things? And this baby was excruciatingly cute. Fat little cheeks and soft cloud of cherubic blonde curls and big, sparkly manga eyes.
And the baby kept crossing their little bare feet and every time they did Jack was like “!!!!!!!”
And he kept like, pausing breakfast and looking at the baby and like ??? cooing. Saying “Ooooooooo,” and smiling at this baby.
Finally we get up to go and he walks right up to this baby and puts his hands into this baby’s little soft cloud of baby curls and he looks at baby’s mom and says “This baby is the cutest baby. This baby is so sweet and I want to snuggle it.“
And I was like “OMG SORRY MY BIG KID IS TOUCHING YOUR BABY” and Jack’s like “PLEASE NO LET ME KEEP TOUCHING THIS BABY” and I pull him away and go pay and he is like, watching this baby like a hawk the whole time
And he says bye and blows a kiss to the mom and says, “Please give this kiss to that baby from me.” and she says she will and she’s like, nearly crying, and I’m like beet red, and we go outside.
And we’re standing there in the middle of the square, bustling with people, and Jack yells at the top of his lungs “I!!! REALLY!!! LOVE!!! BABIES!!!”
And I’m like “I totally know, dude, babies are great” trying to hustle him to the car and he’s like “Mom, mommy, did you see that baby it was so cute and sweet and soft and I know we can’t have one but I want one and I want to hold it and keep it and it to be my brother or sister and it’s so hard because I just want to touch all babies.”
It’s like a run-on-paragraph of babylove. And I’m like “I know I know I know” trying to strap him into his car seat before he takes off and decides to rub his grubby big kid hands all over this precious babyskin again.
We finally get in the car and we’re like getting ready to take off and he says, “Don’t worry Mommy. I will get you a baby someday.”
And this is why I am now concerned my five year old son is going to kidnap somebody’s infant.
shealwaysreads 