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Stiles misses Derek (and the sex), but then Derek comes home and uh, wall sex ensues.

There is more porn.

Can be read on its own, it's really just porn.

It was two weeks later (weeks filled with amazing sex because it turns out Derek was insatiable—not that Stiles was complaining) that Derek had to go out and meet with another pack’s Alpha. It was only for a few days, but Stiles found that he was quickly bored (and horny) without Derek around.


The first day was spent playing video games with Scott, but Scott’s attention was more focused on Allison than the game, so Stiles had kicked him out after two rounds of Scott’s car crashing into the wall and gaining negative meters.

The second day was spent reading all the summer reading that his professors had given him. Stiles found out that he had forgotten all about elasticity of demand and that price floors and ceilings still didn’t make sense (he questioned his desire to go into economics at least ten times while reading).

The third day found Stiles with a raging hard-on in the morning and no conveniently sexy and willing Alpha werewolf next to him to do something about it. His morning me-time did nothing to satisfy his desire, nor did fingering himself cause any relief (damn Alpha werewolves and their knots ruining all masturbation techniques). He called Lydia at one point to complain about his lack of a sex-life (because throughout their classes at Stanford they had become close friends) but quickly regretted it when she started interrogating Stiles about his sex life. He was going to eternally regret exclaiming about werewolf knots because apparently only Alpha werewolves had them and so Jackson didn’t have one—something that Stiles never never never never ever wanted to know about. Lydia now had something to bug him about and managed to bring it into every topic of conversation ever.


Like now, for example.

“So…you’re really missing Derek, huh?” Lydia’s deceptively bland voice said over the phone. Stiles half wanted to commence a FaceTime conversation with her if only to try and read her expression. Unfortunately, Lydia was a firm supporter of BlackBerries (although she loved Apple computers just as much as Stiles), something she and Derek bonded over as they ganged up on Stiles and his love of iPhones.


“Derek or do you miss his knot, his big, sexy, knot,” cackled Lydia. Stiles glared at his phone, but then felt bad immediately and petted it a bit; his baby hadn’t done anything wrong.

“I miss Derek,” insisted Stiles, “it’s boring without someone to talk to. You and Allison spend the days shopping and buying out every mall within driving distance while Jackson stares at his reflection or chauffeuring you two. Scott, my best friend spends his days pining over his girlfriend when she’s not attached to his hip and is utterly useless. I’m alone and bored and I’ve had to resort to talking to my dad!”

Lydia’s laughter could be heard clearly through the phone and Stiles scowled as he shifted the phone to between his ear and his shoulder as he opened the fridge to gather more ingredients for his lunch.

“Oh, sweetie, your gay love for Derek is adorable, you know?” Lydia said, voice softening but then teased, “I’m happy that you two pulled your shit together and finally jumped into bed.” Another person’s laughter could be heard along with Lydia this time.

“Ugh, hi, Allison. I’m so happy that I could serve as entertainment for you two,” snarked Stiles, blushing a bit as he realized that Lydia had been talking about knotting in front of Allison—who would undoubtedly talk to Scott, which would be unbearably embarrassing as Scott would stare at Stiles with a sort of grossed-out expression.

“It’s alright, Stiles,” came Allison’s voice, sounding as if she were leaning close to the phone, “I think it’s cute as well. And well, if Scott and Jackson don’t have knots, we have to hear from you and then we can imagine it during our sexy times!” Another burst of giggles could be heard as Lydia and Allison cracked up.

“Oh my god, that’s horrible!” cried Stiles, cheeks burning now and desperately wishing for brain-bleach. Allison and Lydia continued cackling. “Alright, that’s it! I’m hanging up now, Lydia and Allison, good-bye, and I hope never to see or talk to you two ever again!” Stiles hastily ended the call and shook his head vigorously to get rid of the horrifying words that Allison had said.

“Uck,” muttered Stiles as he started to prepare lasagna for himself. At least Derek was coming back tomorrow.

He had just popped the lasagna into the oven when the doorbell rang. Frowning confusedly, he was sure that his dad was out on a date with Mrs. McCall (and he had said that he wouldn’t be back—ugh, more brain-bleach); he walked to get the door. When he opened the door, he saw Derek Hale, duffel bag in hand.

“What? Derek! You’re—weren’t you supposed to come back—” before Stiles could finish his question, Derek had shoved his way into the house, kicked the door shut, dropped the duffel bag, and slammed Stiles up against the opposite wall.

“Oomph!” grunted Stiles as his back hit the wall, “Oh god, memories,” Stiles huffed, thinking of all the times that Derek had slammed him up against the wall in high school. Except this time was markedly different and infinitely better as Derek brought their lips together and bit down on his bottom lip.

Opening up to Derek with a moan, Stiles ran his hands up Derek’s broad shoulders and tangled his hands in Derek’s hair, dragging him even closer. Derek groaned at the tug and licked filthily into Stiles’ mouth, both of them battling for control of the kiss.

“I missed you,” gasped Stiles as he wrenched his mouth away for a second before reeling Derek back in. Derek growled happily (the fact that Stiles knew it was a happy growl didn’t disturb Stiles as much as it should) and kissed his way down Stiles’ jaw, leaving Stiles to suck in short little gasps of air. Licking and biting his way down his jawline to his neck, Derek finally reached the hollow between Stiles’ neck and collarbone. He worried at it with his teeth, biting down hard enough to cause pain—but a pleasurable pain that shot heat down to Stiles’ groin. Mouthing at the quickly purpling bruise, Derek muttered something that Stiles didn’t quite catch as he was busy shoving Derek’s head closer to his neck.

“What?” Stiles panted, fingers tightening in Derek’s hair as Derek moved to a new spot and proceeded to suck a new hickey to mark Stiles as his.

“I missed you too,” Derek said, abandoning his quest to cover Stiles with obvious love-bites. Stiles whined at the cold air when Derek’s mouth left his neck, but then whined again as Derek shoved at Stiles’ sweatpants.

Thanking whatever perverted deity that was listening into Stiles’ inner stream of consciousness for his foresight in not wearing underwear, Stiles’ mouth twitched into a smug grin as Derek groaned at the realization.

“Going commando, Stiles?” Derek growled into Stiles’ ear, hot breath making Stiles shiver in anticipation. “Are you ready for me? Ready to take my knot into your tight little ass?” Stiles, wordless with want, moaned as his hands scrabbled at Derek’s belt. Derek stepped back a bit, leaving Stiles dazed as he yanked his belt off and quickly stripped off the rest of his clothes. Stiles snapped back into reality as he saw Derek’s massive hard-on, barely having time to drag his own t-shirt off before Derek moved back into his space, hands reaching around Stiles to seek out his hole. Stiles could see clearly when Derek’s canines flashed for a second, his pupils black with lust as Derek’s fingers found that Stiles was already slick and ready.

“Stiles,” Derek choked out hoarsely. Stiles shoved back, fucking himself on Derek’s fingers, hand having frozen there as he stared in shock.

“C’mon, I’m ready,” Stiles begged, “I fingered myself so much this morning, didn’t work though, so fucking—unh.” Stiles broke off as Derek curled his fingers when Stiles shoved backwards again.

“Didn’t work because you’re a knot slut now, yeah?” Derek whispered huskily, shoving another finger into Stiles’ hole. It was evident that Stiles hadn’t been lying when he said he’d had an intense fingering session when he took three fingers in easily. Cursing loudly, Derek pulled his fingers out, Stiles giving a pained sound as he made an aborted motion to trap Derek’s hand so that Stiles could continue his nice fingering session with Derek’s hand—it was so much better with his long, thick fingers than Stiles’ own thin ones. Derek ignored Stiles’ pouting face and wrapped both hands around Stiles’ waist and hoisted him up, making Stiles squeal (Stiles denied ever squealing) in surprise. He shoved Stiles up against the wall firmly, Stiles wrapping his long legs around Derek’s waist in an effort to not fall.

“Derek, you can’t, what the fuck—” but Derek could, apparently. Easily holding Stiles’ weight, Derek reached a hand down to guide the tip of his cock to Stiles’ hole. Stiles moaned at the feeling of Derek’s cock teasing the entrance of his ass, wet pre-come adding to the wetness of his ass.

“Oh my god, fuck me, Derek, fuck me.”

Derek seemed to approve of Stiles’ demand and suddenly slammed into Stiles, provoking a loud wail to spill out of Stiles’ mouth. Growling, Derek proceeded to hold Stiles in place as he slowly pulled out until only the head of his cock nudged against the rim and then thrust back in. Continuing at his tantalizingly slow pace, Stiles was soon reduced to quiet punched out gasps and the occasional whine, too out of it to do much else. He wanted Derek to fuck him so much harder though, and he said so—well, more like begged so.

“Derek—ah—Derek, harder, faster, oh my god—unnh, what are you doing, are you trying—fuck!—to kill me?!” Stiles managed to choke out, stuttering every time Derek’s cock slammed up into him. Writhing desperately against the wall, oh god, he wanted, no needed Derek to fuck him faster. Nearly sobbing now Stiles desperately thought of ways to make Derek go faster, go harder, because Derek had somehow managed to find the perfect angle and he hit Stiles’ prostate each stroke, each agonizingly slow stroke. Finally, inspiration struck and Stiles clenched his ass muscles tightly around Derek’s cock as he was pulling out slowly.

Derek almost howled as Stiles’ already tight and hot channel squeezed deliciously around his dick.

“Fuck, Stiles!” snarled Derek, readjusting his grip on Stiles. Giving up on his slow pace, Derek started slamming up into Stiles. Stiles legs wrapped tightly around Derek’s waist, his fingers clinging onto Derek’s shoulder as Derek’s mouth found his and the two mouthed at each others lips. It wasn’t even really kissing; more an exchanging of gasps and moans with the occasional slick tongue darting out to lick into the other’s mouth. Stiles’ hands slid back up into Derek’s hair, tugging him forward, making Derek rumble as Stiles sealed his lips to Derek’s, sucking on Derek’s tongue.

Stiles could feel Derek’s knot already growing big, catching on Stiles’ rim each time Derek pulled out, thrust back in. Finally, his knot caught and held, tugging at Stiles’ rim, making Stiles moan prettily, the burn of the huge, swollen base of Derek’s cock only adding to the pleasure. Derek rolled his hips into Stiles’ ass.

“Fuck, gonna fill you up, mark you as mine,” Derek growled, biting at Stiles’ already kiss swollen lips, “everyone’s gonna smell me on you, in you.” Stiles moaned at the words coming out of Derek’s mouth. “Gonna come in you so much you’ll be leaking come, and I’ll push it back in—breed you with my pups, ‘til you’re swollen with a litter. Fuck you when you’re ripe,” Stiles clenched down as he felt his orgasm explode, come shooting out between them. “Fuck!” Derek shouted as he felt Stiles clamp down and Derek fell apart as well, thick spurts of come painting Stiles’ insides.

It was a while before Derek came back down, normally strong legs feeling weak. Slowly, he lifted Stiles up a bit so he could turn them around, biting back a moan as the movement made Stiles tighten around his cock. Stiles shuddered as he felt more warmth gushing into his ass. Derek grimaced as he slid gingerly onto the ground. Even though he did it as gently as possible, the impact of their bodies on the ground caused his knot to shove even deeper into Stiles and both of them tensed as sparks of pleasure shot through them.

“Fuck, Derek,” said an incoherent Stiles. Derek merely wrapped his arms around Stiles as Stiles nuzzled into Derek’s neck. Derek tucked Stiles’ head under his chin and settled in for a long—but enjoyable—wait for his knot to deflate.

It wasn’t until a long while later and Derek’s eyes were heavy with sleepiness when Stiles stiffened a bit in Derek’s embrace.

“Derek…” he started warily, “when you said ‘breed’ and ‘pups’…what did you mean?” Derek frowned sleepily down at the top of Stiles’ head and shook his head, “I dunno. I’m pretty sure that was the wolf in me talking.”

Derek felt Stiles relax again as he muttered, “Oh, ‘k then,” and Derek felt his breath even out as he fell asleep.

But Derek felt more awake all of a sudden, wracking through his memories of sex talks with his dad (and it was a sign of how much Derek loved/wanted Stiles that the thought of his dad did nothing to shrink his knot) for the bits on pregnancies…but eventually subsided and cuddled Stiles closer as he succumbed to sleep himself, because honestly, just because fairies and werewolves were real didn’t mean that male pregnancies existed.

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