[ derek asks him for more. derek tells him he wants more and all stiles can do is tell him he knows - because he does. because he wants more too. the words spill out of him on the end of a shuddery sigh, breathy and a little desperate as stiles continues to roll his hips back in tiny thrusts, driving himself just a little further back onto derek's cock each time, centimeter by deliciously agonizing centimeter. all he wants to do is sink all the way down, take as much of derek's cock as his body will physically allow, but the stretch is already tight, painful but - tolerable.
derek straightens up, and though he's no even half inside yet, it changes the angle of his cock just enough that stile' breath catches for a moment, muscles tensing not with pain, but with pleasure. he makes a soft sound, tilting his head forward against to lean it against the tiles and curling his toes. derek takes his arm away, slides it out from between his stomach and the wall, sets it against his lower back instead, keeping him pinned. stiles - kind of hates it, only because it means he can't keep fucking himself on derek's cock, not while he's being held in place. he whines quietly, though it's a frustrated sound more than anything else, but it melts into a soft moan as derek's fingers sink into his hair.
he's not expecting him to pull - but there's no resistance. stiles arches his neck, shoulder blades inching together, his lower spine bending subtly over the solid line of derek's forearm holding him down. and derek fucks him. he pushes into stiles, hips snapping forward hard and sudden and unforgiving, and it's only and inch, maybe two, but it's more than stiles expects all at once, and it hurts. he bites his teeth together hard, biting back and tense groan, the tendons in his neck flexing with the tension that snaps through his shoulders. and then the pain starts to ease. derek keeps fucking into him, sliding just those few inches in and out, forward and back, and stiles' jaw relaxes just as derek guides his head forward and pushes his cheek into the wall.
stiles opens his mouth, but all that comes out of him is a soft, sighed oh, one of his hands dropping to down to circle around his own cock, fingers closed tight over the tip. derek says his name, and stiles' entire body shudders with the sound of it. he can feel himself getting tighter around derek he more derek fucks into him - but that's not it. he's not getting tighter, derek's just getting bigger, thicker and harder and the stretch as derek sinks deeper—
for a moment, stiles feels like he can't breathe. he feels overwhelmed, but it's not the kind of overwhelmed that makes him feel panicky or scared or out of control. it's just - a lot, but stiles has never wanted anything or anyone so fucking badly in his entire life. stiles draws in a quiet gasp of a breath, and even though the slide of derek's cock is starting to hurt again, stiles just keeps meeting his hips with small, measured backwards pushes of his own.
stiles pumps his cock with long, solid strokes, nodding his head as best as he can with derek still holding his cheek to the wall. there's water in his eyes, dropping down from his hair, collecting in his eyelashes, running down the side of his nose to the corner of his mouth, down his chin, his throat.
he's done his research. after scott was bitten in the woods and started exhibiting strange behavior, stiles dedicated his time to figuring out what it was that was affecting his friend, and once he'd figured it out, he'd only researched further. myths and legends and lore - anything he could get his hands on, regardless of credibility. he researched wolves, too, their behavior, habits, their biology, all of it just in case. all of it, just because he knew if he didn't, nobody else would.
stiles has - some idea of what might be happening now, what is about to happen if he doesn't stop derek now — but he doesn't want to stop. the very last thing stiles wants to do right now is end this before it's even really started. this - is part of derek, part of who he is, influenced by the full moon or now - and stiles loves him. stiles loves every part of him, wants every part of him, ever side, man and wolf and everything in between.
stiles squeezes his fist around the base of his cock, pushes his hips back with a brief clench of his teeth. he reaches back, pawing at derek's flank again as he fucks into him, hand shaking, words a little slurred. ]
It's okay. It's okay, I want it, I want this. I want you. Derek—
[ he wants everything derek is, everything derek wants to give him, he'll withstand and work through whatever pain to get to that sweet, warm, bone-melting pleasure derek has never failed to deliver. ]
no subject
[ derek asks him for more. derek tells him he wants more and all stiles can do is tell him he knows - because he does. because he wants more too. the words spill out of him on the end of a shuddery sigh, breathy and a little desperate as stiles continues to roll his hips back in tiny thrusts, driving himself just a little further back onto derek's cock each time, centimeter by deliciously agonizing centimeter. all he wants to do is sink all the way down, take as much of derek's cock as his body will physically allow, but the stretch is already tight, painful but - tolerable.
derek straightens up, and though he's no even half inside yet, it changes the angle of his cock just enough that stile' breath catches for a moment, muscles tensing not with pain, but with pleasure. he makes a soft sound, tilting his head forward against to lean it against the tiles and curling his toes. derek takes his arm away, slides it out from between his stomach and the wall, sets it against his lower back instead, keeping him pinned. stiles - kind of hates it, only because it means he can't keep fucking himself on derek's cock, not while he's being held in place. he whines quietly, though it's a frustrated sound more than anything else, but it melts into a soft moan as derek's fingers sink into his hair.
he's not expecting him to pull - but there's no resistance. stiles arches his neck, shoulder blades inching together, his lower spine bending subtly over the solid line of derek's forearm holding him down. and derek fucks him. he pushes into stiles, hips snapping forward hard and sudden and unforgiving, and it's only and inch, maybe two, but it's more than stiles expects all at once, and it hurts. he bites his teeth together hard, biting back and tense groan, the tendons in his neck flexing with the tension that snaps through his shoulders. and then the pain starts to ease. derek keeps fucking into him, sliding just those few inches in and out, forward and back, and stiles' jaw relaxes just as derek guides his head forward and pushes his cheek into the wall.
stiles opens his mouth, but all that comes out of him is a soft, sighed oh, one of his hands dropping to down to circle around his own cock, fingers closed tight over the tip. derek says his name, and stiles' entire body shudders with the sound of it. he can feel himself getting tighter around derek he more derek fucks into him - but that's not it. he's not getting tighter, derek's just getting bigger, thicker and harder and the stretch as derek sinks deeper—
for a moment, stiles feels like he can't breathe. he feels overwhelmed, but it's not the kind of overwhelmed that makes him feel panicky or scared or out of control. it's just - a lot, but stiles has never wanted anything or anyone so fucking badly in his entire life. stiles draws in a quiet gasp of a breath, and even though the slide of derek's cock is starting to hurt again, stiles just keeps meeting his hips with small, measured backwards pushes of his own.
stiles pumps his cock with long, solid strokes, nodding his head as best as he can with derek still holding his cheek to the wall. there's water in his eyes, dropping down from his hair, collecting in his eyelashes, running down the side of his nose to the corner of his mouth, down his chin, his throat.
he's done his research. after scott was bitten in the woods and started exhibiting strange behavior, stiles dedicated his time to figuring out what it was that was affecting his friend, and once he'd figured it out, he'd only researched further. myths and legends and lore - anything he could get his hands on, regardless of credibility. he researched wolves, too, their behavior, habits, their biology, all of it just in case. all of it, just because he knew if he didn't, nobody else would.
stiles has - some idea of what might be happening now, what is about to happen if he doesn't stop derek now — but he doesn't want to stop. the very last thing stiles wants to do right now is end this before it's even really started. this - is part of derek, part of who he is, influenced by the full moon or now - and stiles loves him. stiles loves every part of him, wants every part of him, ever side, man and wolf and everything in between.
stiles squeezes his fist around the base of his cock, pushes his hips back with a brief clench of his teeth. he reaches back, pawing at derek's flank again as he fucks into him, hand shaking, words a little slurred. ]
It's okay. It's okay, I want it, I want this. I want you. Derek—
[ he wants everything derek is, everything derek wants to give him, he'll withstand and work through whatever pain to get to that sweet, warm, bone-melting pleasure derek has never failed to deliver. ]
Derek, please.