[He's about to write more when the next message comes]
fuck. Okay
[He practically is ready, the whole conversation has been so fucking hot - what's decidedly less hot is how he nearly faceplants getting tangled in the jeans still halfway down his thighs when he rolls off the bed and scrambles to neaten up his room, unlatch the window and get naked all at the same time, but after a whirl of activity that leaves him flushed and panting even more than he already was, he's back on the bed working himself open with slicked-up fingers]
[ Derek arrives like a fucking hurricane, showing up in record time at Stiles' windowsill, already out of breath. The big bad wolf of Beacon Hills actually ran to Stiles' place with such needy, horny urgency that his god damn chest hurts. He knocks open the second floor window to Stiles' bedroom with his shoulder, stumbles inside and feezes, his mouth going dry as he takes in the sight of the boy fucking himself open on his bed, just for Derek. That tight fucking body. Derek's cock is raging against his thigh.
The only signs that he's been drinking are the half-lidded eyes and the pale scent of diluted wolfsbane clinging to his clothes. If anything, he looks like hes been moon starved; slightly animalistic, slightly out of control. He struggles with his shirt in his haste to get it off over his head, making a guttural noise followed by a rrrip as he tears it off his skin, too impatient. He kickes off his shoes and jeans as he stumbles onto the mattress, his boxerbriefs tenting with the massive heft of his dick. ]
Good fucking boy. [ Derek breathes, leaning in, his breath hot against Stiles' skin. He grazes his teeth against Stiles' ass, threatening to bite down, before pulling back with an exhausted, agonizingly aroused laugh. ] Fuck, look at you.
[Stiles still jumps a little as his window is shoved open because he really wasn't expecting Derek to arrive that fast, and he can't help but stare with wide eyes at the panting, hungry werewolf suddenly standing there in his bedroom looking at him like he, Stiles, is a particularly juicy steak.
Fuck it makes his cock twitch almost in eager anticipation and he can't quite believe that Derek Hale wants him this badly. So badly he rips his shirt, apparently, and dear god that's unfairly hot.
He bites back a moan when Derek calls him a good boy again, the warmth of his closeness almost burning, not that it stops the trail of goosebumps that spring up in response to the feeling of Derek's breath whispering across his skin.
He finally breaks mostly out of his stupor, at least enough to continue the careful thrust of slick fingers inside himself - Derek doesn't look inclined to wait much longer and he'd rather be as stretched as possible before that tenuous control is lost. Another moan, less stifled, greets the press of teeth and Stiles is surprised he hasn't come already. He returns Derek's laugh with one of his own, disbelieving. Despite the fact he's literally naked and fingering himself in front of the older man, it's those words that deepen the red in his flushed cheeks.]
Look at me? Look at you! Fuck I can't believe how hot you are.
[He's turned to study Derek over his shoulder, and his gaze drifts down that muscular body until it lands on the impressive tent in his boxers and he grins, unable to stop himself as his eyes twinkle with mischief.]
[ the obvious all the better to fuck you with never gets voiced, unfortunately, because derek hale likely believes that fun and joy is for idiot losers whose parents haven't been baked into werewolf bits. Even now, at the height of raw, animal attraction, drunk half from lust and half from literal god damn poison, the trademark Hale Eyeroll™ makes a minor appearance. welcome to the stage: the slight, irritated twitch of one of his eyebrows. and then the show is over. he's too desperate to fuck to dwell on how annoying this kid is. ]
Shut up.
[ without waiting for permission, Derek half slaps, half nudges Stiles' hand out of the way, positioning his jaw at his ass. with a long, probing swipe of his tongue, Derek laps at Stiles' entrance and the bridge to his balls, dragging his tongue in him, through him, down him. he reaches beneath Stiles and curls his fingers around the base of his dick, not stroking yet, but squeezing with a firm and surprisingly smooth grip, just to let him really feel it. feel the fact that derek hale is here, eating his ass like his life depends on it.
he circles his tongue around the rim of stiles' hole, scratching him with his stubble, squeezing one cheek with his free hand. he fucks in and out of him with his tongue, looking up at Stiles from over his shoulder as he gets faster, deeper, more demanding. ]
[One day Stiles is going to make this grumpy asshole crack a smile, and not just because he's injured or something. Today is not that day, however, and Stiles thinks he can be okay with that, because that growled instruction to shut up is hotter than it has any right to be and, well, Stiles is willing to forgive Derek just about everything he's ever done wrong the second that warm, wet tongue touches his ass.]
Fu-uck...
[The words is drawn out in a low groan and Stiles lets his body fall forward, catching himself on his elbows and pushing his hips up into the contact. He hangs his head between his arms for a moment just trying to catch his breath, to process that yes, that is Derek Hale's hand wrapping around his throbbing dick, and more importantly yes, that is Derek Hale's usually acerbic tongue fucking into his hole with an enthusiasm Stiles would not have imagined possible. He thinks the only reason he isn't passing out from pleasure is because his brain is smart enough to know that he absolutely has to hold on, because as mind-numbingly erotic as this is, it's only the appetiser and there's no way in hell he's missing the main course.
He lifts his head so he can look back over his shoulder again and finds himself meeting Derek's eyes. The intensity he sees there should probably be intimidating, but maybe all the danger he's endured has fucked something up in his brain because all it does is send a shiver of pure lust running down his spine. It might also be because it's hard to feel scared of someone while they are actively eating your ass. He doesn't really dwell on it for very long, he has better things to think about, like the feeling of Derek's saliva running down onto his balls, or the tight heat of Derek's fist around his dick. He bites his lip and makes a noise that sounds embarrassingly like a needy whine, dropping his head again]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
In a fucking way, obviously
Especially now I know no toy I have can compare, sort of ruins the fantasising a bit
no subject
Might want to see you using them.
I'm coming over.
Now.
Get ready. No excuses.
no subject
a couple
[He's about to write more when the next message comes]
fuck. Okay
[He practically is ready, the whole conversation has been so fucking hot - what's decidedly less hot is how he nearly faceplants getting tangled in the jeans still halfway down his thighs when he rolls off the bed and scrambles to neaten up his room, unlatch the window and get naked all at the same time, but after a whirl of activity that leaves him flushed and panting even more than he already was, he's back on the bed working himself open with slicked-up fingers]
no subject
The only signs that he's been drinking are the half-lidded eyes and the pale scent of diluted wolfsbane clinging to his clothes. If anything, he looks like hes been moon starved; slightly animalistic, slightly out of control. He struggles with his shirt in his haste to get it off over his head, making a guttural noise followed by a rrrip as he tears it off his skin, too impatient. He kickes off his shoes and jeans as he stumbles onto the mattress, his boxerbriefs tenting with the massive heft of his dick. ]
Good fucking boy. [ Derek breathes, leaning in, his breath hot against Stiles' skin. He grazes his teeth against Stiles' ass, threatening to bite down, before pulling back with an exhausted, agonizingly aroused laugh. ] Fuck, look at you.
Derek I'm so sorry XD
[Stiles still jumps a little as his window is shoved open because he really wasn't expecting Derek to arrive that fast, and he can't help but stare with wide eyes at the panting, hungry werewolf suddenly standing there in his bedroom looking at him like he, Stiles, is a particularly juicy steak.
Fuck it makes his cock twitch almost in eager anticipation and he can't quite believe that Derek Hale wants him this badly. So badly he rips his shirt, apparently, and dear god that's unfairly hot.
He bites back a moan when Derek calls him a good boy again, the warmth of his closeness almost burning, not that it stops the trail of goosebumps that spring up in response to the feeling of Derek's breath whispering across his skin.
He finally breaks mostly out of his stupor, at least enough to continue the careful thrust of slick fingers inside himself - Derek doesn't look inclined to wait much longer and he'd rather be as stretched as possible before that tenuous control is lost. Another moan, less stifled, greets the press of teeth and Stiles is surprised he hasn't come already. He returns Derek's laugh with one of his own, disbelieving. Despite the fact he's literally naked and fingering himself in front of the older man, it's those words that deepen the red in his flushed cheeks.]
Look at me? Look at you! Fuck I can't believe how hot you are.
[He's turned to study Derek over his shoulder, and his gaze drifts down that muscular body until it lands on the impressive tent in his boxers and he grins, unable to stop himself as his eyes twinkle with mischief.]
What a big cock you have, Mr Wolf.
he deserves worse
Shut up.
[ without waiting for permission, Derek half slaps, half nudges Stiles' hand out of the way, positioning his jaw at his ass. with a long, probing swipe of his tongue, Derek laps at Stiles' entrance and the bridge to his balls, dragging his tongue in him, through him, down him. he reaches beneath Stiles and curls his fingers around the base of his dick, not stroking yet, but squeezing with a firm and surprisingly smooth grip, just to let him really feel it. feel the fact that derek hale is here, eating his ass like his life depends on it.
he circles his tongue around the rim of stiles' hole, scratching him with his stubble, squeezing one cheek with his free hand. he fucks in and out of him with his tongue, looking up at Stiles from over his shoulder as he gets faster, deeper, more demanding. ]
Re: he deserves worse
[One day Stiles is going to make this grumpy asshole crack a smile, and not just because he's injured or something. Today is not that day, however, and Stiles thinks he can be okay with that, because that growled instruction to shut up is hotter than it has any right to be and, well, Stiles is willing to forgive Derek just about everything he's ever done wrong the second that warm, wet tongue touches his ass.]
Fu-uck...
[The words is drawn out in a low groan and Stiles lets his body fall forward, catching himself on his elbows and pushing his hips up into the contact. He hangs his head between his arms for a moment just trying to catch his breath, to process that yes, that is Derek Hale's hand wrapping around his throbbing dick, and more importantly yes, that is Derek Hale's usually acerbic tongue fucking into his hole with an enthusiasm Stiles would not have imagined possible. He thinks the only reason he isn't passing out from pleasure is because his brain is smart enough to know that he absolutely has to hold on, because as mind-numbingly erotic as this is, it's only the appetiser and there's no way in hell he's missing the main course.
He lifts his head so he can look back over his shoulder again and finds himself meeting Derek's eyes. The intensity he sees there should probably be intimidating, but maybe all the danger he's endured has fucked something up in his brain because all it does is send a shiver of pure lust running down his spine. It might also be because it's hard to feel scared of someone while they are actively eating your ass. He doesn't really dwell on it for very long, he has better things to think about, like the feeling of Derek's saliva running down onto his balls, or the tight heat of Derek's fist around his dick. He bites his lip and makes a noise that sounds embarrassingly like a needy whine, dropping his head again]
Fuck, Derek, please...