Okay, so I rambled at a friend last night about free-knotting, and she told me I should post it, so. Enjoy?
* * *
Derek knows he’s not supposed to. He knows. He’s also not naive enough to think that no one ever does it, but… it’s just not supposed to happen.
You’re supposed go out, date, have sex, and learn how to become a decent lover, so when you meet your mate you’re able to give them the best. If you meet your mate too young, you’re encouraged to reject the bond at first, until you’ve been around the block.
What you’re not supposed to do, is give your knot to someone who’s not worthy. And the one time Derek had ventured to ask anonymously if you could knot when you were alone, the answer had left him with no illusions that even contemplating such a waste was unthinkable.
That doesn’t change the fact that at least once a week he’ll be indulging in the favorite pastime of teens around the world, and… it just happens. The first time it’s an accident, and when his mom catches him trying to bundle up the soaked sheets in a panic, she pets his hair and tells him that accidents happen to everyone. But it’s clear from the tone and her regretful tutting as she helps him change the bed that it’s a thing that shouldn’t happen. He should have better control than this.
But it happens again… and again… and again. And before long he starts trying to knot deliberately. He tries to tell himself it’s for practice. To work on his control. But there’s really no excuse for how he gasps and writhes as his knot swells, and he definitely never tries to stop it from happening. Because it just feels. So. Good.
Tag: smut
Darling Inell! I have smutty prompt for you: established relationship Sterek, with Stiles asking Derek to share his fantasies, and after much coaxing, a blushing, shy Derek admits that he’s dying to get DP’d, and because he is the best boyfriend ever, Stiles invites Jackson (an ex of his perhaps?) to give Derek his fantasy. <3
I absolutely loved this prompt! I hope you enjoy the finished product, hon. Thank you so much for prompting me!
Fantasy Come True. Stiles/Derek. Stiles/Derek/Jackson. Adult.
Derek and Stiles are always fulfilling fantasies off of Stiles’ Bucket List of Fantasies, but Derek’s always too shy to admit any of his. One night, Stiles finally finds out something Derek really wants to do. He enlists the help of Jackson to make Derek’s fantasy come true.
The sound of heavy breathing against his ear is the first thing Stiles becomes aware of as he comes down from his high. His cock is still twitching inside Derek, tight heat clenching around him as Derek keeps slowly riding him. There’s sticky wet on his belly and chest from Derek’s come, and he knows it must be sticking to Derek’s chest hair, but neither of them really care that much at the moment. He strokes his fingers down Derek’s spine, feeling damp skin slick with sweat, and he mouths at Derek’s shoulder as he lazily pushes up inside him.
“Wow.” Stiles finally says, breaking the blissful silence when Derek finally stops moving and just collapses on top of him. “That was…intense.”
“Mmm.” Derek just moans against his neck in agreement, stroking his hands down Stiles’ arms until their hands are clasped together. “Yeah, it was.”
“Thank you.” He nuzzles Derek’s neck and face until he turns his head so they can share a kiss.
“I, uh, enjoyed it.” Derek is surprisingly shy when it comes to talking about sex. It’s adorable, really, and Stiles respects his boundaries. It works out relatively well anyway, because Stiles likes to talk, especially dirty, and Derek has learned that there’s no judgement when he does vocalize his desires.
Porn is undressing right? Yeah? DON’T JUDGE ME.
– – –
Stiles in bed is a lot like Stiles everywhere else. He’s brash, doesn’t do as he’s told and can’t ever just stay in one position. Derek doesn’t know what he was expecting when he fell into this…whatever this is, but he can admit that Stiles hasn’t failed to – well, surprise would be putting it mildly.
But for all that, or rather – fuck Derek’s life – because of all that, Derek’s finding it particularly difficult to not get addicted to this. The feel of Stiles’ skin under his hands, the clench of heat around him as Stiles slides one knee back and bucks against him, forcing him deeper.
“Stiles- fuck,” Derek grits, swallowing hard around a growl because he’s in the Sheriff’s house, fucking the Sheriff’s son and John Stilinski may be a lot of things, but hard of hearing isn’t one of them.
Stiles just whines, shameless and more honest than Derek ever sees him outside of this as he claws at the bedspread, spine bowing beneath Derek’s hands. “Please Derek,” he pants. “Please god – fuck – “
The last breaks on a yelp as Derek hauls him up, setting him in his lap with one hand pressed to Stiles’ chest as he fucks up sharply. Stiles’ moan doesn’t even make it past his lips.
Because Derek’s learned the hard way that Stiles’ ability to stay silent during sex is about on par with his ability to stay silent any other fucking time. Generally it doesn’t matter – Stiles’ mind is a formidable thing when set to a task and finding secluded places to have sex is something he’s sort of ridiculously adept at.
But then there are times like this.
Derek adjusts his grip, hooking his hand more securely over Stiles’ mouth as he rolls his hips and the muffled groan he gets in response is pretty much the best sound in the universe.
“The sounds you make,” Derek says, and his voice is low and filthy even to his own ears. “Fuck, Stiles.”
Stiles makes a sound of assent against his hand, fingernails digging into Derek’s forearm where it’s pinning him back against Derek’s chest. At this angle Stiles has fuck all leverage and as much as Derek loves it when Stiles gives as good as he gets, he can’t deny he likes this too – pinning Stiles in one place and just taking him.
Derek tugs slightly and Stiles’ head drops back onto his shoulder, the line of his throat taut and lean and right fucking there and Derek can’t help pressing his mouth to the pulse point, feeling his fangs itch.
Stiles claws at his arm and fucking keens and Derek has to pull back slightly, feeling a low growl vibrate through his chest as he presses his forehead to Stiles’ neck and just breathes. From this angle he can see down between them; see where he’s disappearing into Stiles with every thrust and he can’t help slowing, watching the drag and pull until Stiles groans against his hand like Derek’s killing him.
“Impatient,” Derek pants, thrusting up sharply once, twice and that’s all it takes before Stiles is seizing up, mouth opening hot and wet against Derek’s hand and it’s mildly ridiculous that the only time Stiles is silent is when he comes.
The smell hits Derek like a punch to the gut, sex and Stiles and his and it’s enough to pitch Derek over the edge too. He muffles his groan against Stiles’ shoulder, thrusting minutely through the aftershocks until his legs are shaking too badly and he has to collapse them both forward onto the mattress.
“Oh my god,” Stiles groans against the pillow. “I think you killed me. I’m speaking to you now from beyond the grave.”
Derek grunts and presses his mouth to Stiles’ shoulder. “You would find a way to talk through death,” he says and Stiles tries to elbow him, huffing a laugh. Derek just shifts his weight, pinning Stiles more securely against the mattress and it’s…nice. The feel of Stiles under him, skin warm and smooth and everywhere. Derek presses his face to the back of Stiles’ neck and breathes him in.
“You are so weird,” Stiles says, relaxing under him and Derek can’t help feeling proud that he can make human live-wire Stiles Stilinski this smoothly pliant. “It’s a good thing I like weird.”
“It’s a good thing I like loud,” Derek says, lazily licking across the top-most knob of Stiles’ spine.
“I’m not loud,” Stiles says. “I’m…enthusiastic.”
Derek snorts, shifting up and over to collapse next to Stiles on the bed. Even the slight distance is an unwanted one, but Derek’s learned the hard way that Stiles won’t make him move until he’s had the air crushed out of him if he gives him the chance. “Yeah well, we’re going to have to enthusiastically invest in a gag if we’re going to keep doing this here.”
Stiles rolls his shoulders, and grins. “Ooo, kinky,” he says, waggling his eyebrows like a pervert. Derek rolls his eyes and then freezes because- fuck.
The knock on the door is sharp and terrifying.
“Stiles?” Sheriff Stilinski calls through the door.
Stiles’ looks like he’s been slapped with a fish. “Uh – yeah?”
“Dinner’s in ten,” the Sheriff says and Derek starts breathing again only to choke a moment later when it’s followed with, “Tell Derek he’s on dishes.”
Stiles’ face goes from shocked to mortified in the space of about a millisecond before he buries his face in his pillow and makes a sound like he’s dying.
Derek – well, he falls off the bed.
It was @hoechlinslapsdylansbutt‘s birthday yesterday and because I am awful, I changed my mind about the plot of her birthday fic half way through writing it despite the fact I was literally only writing her porn. (I have issues, shhh, leave me to them.) So here it is, a day late. You are a wonderful person, Bells, and as a thank you, please accept some virgin, bottom!Derek from me to you!
“Wow,” Stiles whispers, biting down on a grin.
“What?” Derek asks, frowning.
“I’ve just never seen someone who wears leather blush so hard before is all.”
The comment makes Derek blush even further and Stiles can’t help it, he winks, just to see what
will happen. Call him an asshole, everyone does.He doesn’t expect the sound Derek makes- something close to
a whimper- nor the way his cock visibly twitches in his sweatpants. Huh. It
looks like Stiles owes Erica twenty bucks.When they graduated high school, Stiles didn’t just come
away with kick ass grades and a knowledge of Star Wars trivia that is not useless, Scott, thank you very much. Apparently
he came away with sex appeal.Stiles isn’t exactly proud to say he’s fucked more people
than he’s gotten to know in the past couple of years, but hey, he always takes the
time to learn names and even an interesting fact or two before getting down and
dirty, so that’s got to count for something, right? (Sure, sometimes he only remembers to ask for a name so
he isn’t calling out the wrong one when he’s coming, but that’s only when he’s really drunk. He’s pretty sure that
still counts for good manners.)“So,” Stiles says, rocking back on his heels a little, the
silence making him uncomfortable. “How do you want to do this?”“How do I want you to take my virginity?” Derek’s eyes widen
and the blush extends to his ears. It’s freaking adorable. “Gee, I don’t know, Stiles. That’s why I asked you.”Stiles rolls his eyes, but decides Derek has a point. Stiles
isn’t exactly sure how, but he’s got a bit of a reputation for good sexual etiquette.
He didn’t know it was such a rare thing to have, but apparently it is.
Apparently most guys are “selfish asshats” in bed. Stiles would like defend his own sex, really
he would, but he’s watched enough movies with Lydia and bought more than enough I’m-sorry-he-was-a-jerk
ice cream for Erica and Isaac, to
know he wouldn’t have much of a leg to stand on if he tried.So, here he is. Stiles Stilinski. Major in Criminal Law and,
evidently, that special lovin’ feeling.“Okay, well, last night you said you wanted me to”- Stiles
pretends to read his hand- “pin you down and fuck you until graduation.” He
grins, winking again, just to see Derek bite his lip and make that sound again. Holy shit. “I’m not sure I
have the stamina for that, but for you baby, I’ll give it my best shot.”Derek grimaces, burying his face in his hands. “I was
drunk.”“And yet here you are,” Stiles smirks. “Sober.”
shealwaysreads 