Teen Wolf Mature Content Drabbles

Rage-Fueled FBI SexyTimes (Sterek)

"Hey, asshole. Raise and shine. It's another glorious day in California. It's whooping seventy-seven degrees, if you look out your window you'll see trees, a bullet wound, and blood that I'm pretty sure doesn't come from either of us." Stiles rambles, waking Derek with a start. Stiles gives him a grin, taking a curve in the stupid car that Derek stole from the Brazilians' hunters, and he pats Derek's thigh. Derek groans as he opens his eyes, Stiles' grinning face looking over at him, and Derek fights the urge to push his face away. The sun is hurting his eyes, and Stiles' shit eating grin isn't helping the mood.

"I think I might kill you later." Derek says, voice rough and scratchy. Stiles' laugh echoes around the car, along with Derek's head, and Stiles takes a turn too rough so that Derek's pounding head hits the window. "Fuck you." Derek says, falling from the car when Stiles stops at gas station. He goes into the store, it's in the middle of nowhere and the tired worker doesn't stay anything as Derek buys himself coffee along with some junk food. Stiles is leaned against the car, pumping gas, and he's focused solely on stopping the pump when it gets to twenty that he doesn't hear Derek approach.

"Shit! You need a fucking bell." Stiles says, jumping.

"The FBI doesn't teach their interns to listen for people approaching them? Wow. I feel so safe." Derek says, and Stiles rolls his eyes.

"I was tough enough to save your ass." Stiles reminded him, and Derek glares at him. "I was shot! In the foot! It was a terrible wound." Stiles says, and he huffs when Derek pushes passed him to get into the car. "Hey! I'm driving." Stiles says, grabbing his arm not flinching when Derek flashes his eyes on him. "Oh, like that words on me." Stiles says, holding the keys in front of him while he turns to try to get passed him. Derek reaches out to stop him, pushing his arm some, and Stiles makes an annoyed noise as he reached out to stop him. "You can't do that to me!" Stiles snaps, not back down. Derek looks at him before he presses his mouth against his roughly, and Stiles makes a surprised noise but he doesn't push him away as he tangles his hand into his hair roughly as he kisses him back. "Oh, fuck you." Stiles pants, hitching his leg up on Derek's thigh as Derek grabs his ass.

Stiles feels a burst of rage go through him, and he's not even sure what he's mad at during this moment. He's angry at Derek for leaving, angry at himself for caring, and just angry that they should go back to Beacon Hills. He still feels everyone bit the teenager as he ruts against Derek, reaching behind him to open the door to the small car. They're not going to be comfortable back there, but all Stiles can think about is getting every bit of Derek against him. Derek pushes him inside, not letting hit his head which is oddly thoughtful, and Stiles tugs his pants to his ankles as he reaches for Derek. Derek's cock is hard, foreskin stretched back as Stiles' uses a dry hand to stroke him a few times, and he knows they don't have space for Stiles to blow him. He wants to get his mouth on him, he will eventually when this shit storm is over, and he stretches up to reach into the glove box. He knows there won't be lube in there, but lotion or anything to help would be appreciated. Derek tosses him a bottle of lube, Stiles won't even ask him where he got it, and he slicks up his hand before he goes back to stroking him.

Derek's head falls into his shoulder, groaning and moaning, and Stiles can feel his heavy, hot breath against his neck which is enough to drive Stiles wild as he turns to kiss him. They don't have time for this, not now, but Stiles looks forward to the day when he can take Derek apart slowly. Derek's large hand cups Stiles' cock, slick and wet even though Stiles didn't remember him getting the lube, and he moans while he gets himself worked up.

Stiles comes first, spilling over Derek's hand, the anger draining out of him as Derek strokes him though the aftershocks. Stiles turns around, bumping into things, and he tosses the lube back to Derek. "Come on, man." Stiles says, guiding Derek's cock in between his ass cheeks. Derek presses a warm hand against Stiles' shoulder to balance himself as he ruts against him, managing a few thrusts before he comes over Stiles' back. Stiles is nice enough to just pull his shirt down, and he tosses the keys at Derek so he can have a nap in the backseat.

Derek grins. 

*I'm going to update Ask Stale, so please leave some questions you'd like me to answer.*