amy rose please write the muffled against a wall library!sex! your tags put this pit in my stomach and i need it like air! more beautiful words, all the ust. when you have time, or at all of course :)
The night before classes start, Erica drags Derek to a house party and he finds himself making out with an extremely attractive guy called Stiles. Stiles of all the names in all the world. It could be a damn fugitive’s name, odd and vague and fitting for the man that leans against the kitchen counter as he talks to Derek, feet turned towards him and pink lips turned up in a smile as they wrap around a beer bottle. Stiles has big, earnest eyes and talks with his hands. He teases Derek about his awkward flirting, and his slightly too short haircut. Derek mocks Stiles’ own messy hair, even as he’s itching to run his fingers through it, and he could tell by the way Stiles’ gaze had dropped constantly to his mouth that he was thinking similar things to Derek.
Things Derek shouldn’t be thinking about when he has class in nine hours.
Derek’s out of his element as they stumble back to Stiles’ shared house, he’s never really had one night stands, taken his studies seriously, put books first, earned his place at college through hard work and a dusty social life. He’s remarkably okay with pretending to be someone who does this regularly if it means he gets one night of it with Stiles. Stiles rims him on the stairs and they fuck on Stiles’ too small bed. It’s wild and intense and Derek forgets his inhibitions, is loud and laughs when Stiles can’t get his shoes off, clutches the headboard as he rides Stiles, relishes the scrape and the burn and the fast, heady pleasure of it all.
Derek always enjoy to watch when Stiles playing with his greedy hole.
God he was fascinated.
He was, well he was willing to admit that it may be a slight addiction. That he couldn’t help but love the way his wolf whimpered and snarled and clawed at him for more, the way his cock pulsed against his thigh and his pulse flew. Matching the frantic humming of Stiles’.
Yes, Derek was capable of letting himself have nice things, occasionally. He just didn’t let others see it. Because this was his, Stiles was his.
Stiles’ ass was his.
And Jesus if it wasn’t perfect, pale and spattered with moles, all tinged pink from his stubble and glistening from his mouth. Fuck.
But it was Stiles’ greedy little hole that did it. The way the tight, wrinkled pucker of his ass opened up around his fingers, his tongue. His cock.
The way it got all puffy and red after he fucked Stiles deep, bent him over onto his hands and knees and pounded into that slick, tight body. Ground his cock head fat and leaking against Stiles’ prostate until the boy was quivering and sobbing under him, fists tight in the sheets.
Fuck, he definitely had a kink. That kink being watching his cum leaking from the gaping, open, raw entrance. The way it clenched and trembled and pulsed trying to close around nothing but his gaze.
He swallowed hard, licking his lips and ran his fingertips over the smooth hot skin. Growling deep in his chest as Stiles’ panted into his pillow, the bitter scent of cum and sex and sweat all around him.
He hummed in delight, thrusting two fingers Stiles’ ass, all but purring when it swallowed then down greedily. Answering the teens breathless plea with a deep snarl.
never seen awful statues?? I think u are forgetting all of Michelangelo’s attempts at sculpting women, the big queer
Damn, how could I forget?
Dented oranges are my favorite type of breast
Michel-I’ve never seen a naked woman-angelo