testing something with the new community guidelines. chapter ten of for a good time, call... was flagged when i originally posted it since it has nsfw fanart, so let's try this again!
masterlist
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Characters: Stiles Stilinski, Malia Tate, Lydia Martin, Derek Hale, Scott McCall (Teen Wolf), Isaac Lahey, Erica Reyes, Vernon Boyd, Original Male Character(s), Sheriff Stilinski
Additional Tags: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Werewolves Are Known, Omega Stiles Stilinski, Meet-Ugly, Alpha Derek Hale, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Wrong number, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Explicit Sexual Content, Knotting, Idiots in Love, Mates, Mating Bites
Summary:
Stiles unlocks his phone to send out a quick text asking his father what he wants to eat, even though he’ll get salad regardless, and notices a strange number on his recent call log.
His face scrunches in confusion before realization dawns on him.
Oh shit.
Events from the night before peek through the hazy fog of his mind. Stiles thought, or he was hoping, that the phone call was a dream. But there it is, staring at him in the face—a one minute and 57-second call to an unfamiliar number.
Oh God.
Did he seriously call someone—possibly an alpha werewolf!—for phone sex?
It’s the day of the full moon; their first together since becoming official—Facebook, Instagram, Twitter. Stiles made sure to update every social media site. Hell, he would have gotten one of those planes to fly a banner across the sky if he wasn’t so sure Derek would look at him like he was crazy. Okay, that’s a lie. A quick google search proved that the endeavor was far too expensive.
Stiles lies in Derek’s bed, wrapped in his arms with their legs tangled. It’s how he’s woken every morning for the past two weeks. Usually, he’d snuggle closer and fall back to sleep, but the excitement of the day isn’t letting him sleep anymore.
Stiles lets his eyes trail over Derek’s body. As always, his heart swells when they pass over his bite on Derek’s neck. It’s still overwhelming having this connection to another person. His fingers graze over the bite mark with a feather-like touch before he runs his hands further down Derek’s body.
Stiles licks his lips as his gaze passes over the outline of Derek’s erection through the sheet. His hole clenches automatically, and his mouth waters as he imagines Derek’s dick in his mouth. But why imagine it when he can make it a reality?
Stiles gets a wicked grin on his face as he crawls down the bed to slot himself perfectly into the V of Derek’s legs. He slips the sheet off Derek’s waist like he’s unwrapping a present and is pleased when Derek’s dick bobs in the air.
Yay!
Before he dives in though, Stiles takes a moment to appreciate a fully naked Derek. Derek’s wide, muscular chest is on full display, and his nipples are hard and look suckable. But Stiles won’t let the way his hole slicks or his dick jumps detract from his goal of getting Derek’s dick in his mouth.
There’s no reaction as he strokes Derek’s dick a couple of times, but when he wraps his lips around the tip, Derek gasps softly. Stiles smiles before he sucks lightly, swirling his tongue and slowly slipping down to the thicket of dark curls at the base, licking every inch. He swallows around the head of Derek’s dick, eyes rolling closed in ecstasy, and moans at the weight of Derek on his tongue.
Derek mumbles a curse, quickly waking up as Stiles bobs his head and takes him all the way to the back of his throat.
“Jesus, fuck. Stiles.” It’s hard not to love the way his name is purred, and while Stiles loves having Derek in his mouth, what really gets him going is looking up and seeing Derek staring at him. Like he’s a fantasy.
Derek’s legs part even more, and Stiles looks up at the sound of the headboard creaking under Derek's grip. Stiles pops off, running his hands up Derek's abs and chest, to lightly trail over the long expanse of Derek's neck as his head is thrown back.
“God, I love sucking your dick,” he says hoarsely before sucking Derek down again. It’s not long before Derek fingers card through his hair, tugging lightly to warn that he’s close.
Stiles sprawls out on the mattress, rutting relentlessly as he chases his own release.
Derek’s hips stutter, and he grunts, filling Stiles’s mouth with cum. “So good. So good for me, Stiles,” he says, petting Stiles’s head.
Stiles pulls off and swallows, letting out a quiet groan as he licks his lips. He’s addicted to the taste of Derek, and it sets off his own toe-curling orgasm, making him pant into Derek’s groin. It’s only a second later that he’s hauled up against Derek’s chest. He’s breathless as Derek kisses him feverishly.
As much as Stiles would like to lie in bed and continue to make out, they need to get up. With a groan, he sits up and stretches. “All right. Time for a shower.”
“You go shower,” Derek says, swatting Stiles’s butt as they climb out of bed.
“Uh, Derek?” Stiles stops when Derek heads away from him and towards the kitchen, raising a brow. “Are we not showering together?”
“No,” Derek states, matter-of-factly, while he roots through the cabinets.
Stiles scoffs. Derek expects him to shower alone? “But—” We always shower together, is what Stiles wants to say, except Derek cuts him off.
“We’ll end up having sex, and I will knot you. And we’re already running late.”
Stiles crosses his arms and purses his lips even though everything Derek is saying is fair and valid. But how can he be expected to hold himself back when Derek is a walking wet dream?
Still, Stiles needs to put up some form of protest. “We’re not running late, Derek. It’s only 10:30.”
Derek points to the calendar on the fridge, drawing Stiles’s eyes to today’s date circled in red with full moon written in all caps. “I have to get dinner prepped since we’ll be out all day.”
“Can’t we just order pizza?” Stiles asks. “It’s just one night. We can—”
“We’re not ordering pizza.” Derek’s left brow rises to amazing heights. Stiles is impressed. It’s the most ‘the fuck are you talking about’ expression that Derek has ever given him. “I always cook.”
Stiles throws his arms out because— “Yeah, exa—”
“Stiles. You know how I feel about this.”
That’s the reason Stiles finally shuts up. He knows Derek has an extreme need to provide for the pack, which now includes him, so he relents.
By the time Stiles gets out of the shower, Derek already has beef stew in the crockpot and a casserole dish on the stove. He walks over with his towel around his waist and hugs Derek from behind. “What’s in there?”
“Mac ‘n cheese.” Derek turns his head, and Stiles happily accepts the kiss to the tip of his nose. “It’s got to cool off for a bit before I can put it in the fridge. But then all we’ll have to do when we get home is toss it in the oven to heat up.”
“Okay. It’s your turn now,” Stiles says as he spins them, pushing Derek towards the bathroom, and swatting his ass. Derek growls playfully, but Stiles pushes him again. “Go.”
Once the bathroom door is closed, Stiles dresses quickly. Since Derek cooked, and it’s the first full moon he’s helping host, Stiles figures he should make something. The cookies were a hit last time, but he’d rather make something new for them to try. After scrolling through his phone for 30 seconds, he settles on a berry crumble. It’s something he can prepare now and pop in the oven after the mac ‘n cheese is done.
Stiles gets so lost in getting the pie ready that time becomes obsolete. All too soon, the bathroom door opens, and his jaw drops when Derek steps out, chest glistening like he’s a Greek god.
Derek’s nostrils flare and he smirks, turning his head in Stiles’s direction. “You got a little drool there, Stiles.”
“Oh, fuck you,” he says without heat. He wipes his hands on his apron and puts both the pie and the mac ‘n cheese in the refrigerator before giving Derek all his attention. “You, uh, you sure we can’t sneak in a round of sex?”
Instead of answering, Derek points at the clock on the wall.
Shit. It’s almost noon. Where the hell did the time go?
“Fine,” he says, petulantly. “But you need to hurry up and put clothes on. I can’t be held liable for my actions if you’re naked much longer.”
Derek huffs a laugh. While he’s dressing, Stiles puts his shoes on and pats down his pockets for his keys, wallet, and phone.
Stiles leans back when Derek’s hands settle on his waist.
“Ready?” Derek asks.
“Yeah.”
Derek does a quick check on the stew, and then they head out to meet his dad for lunch. It’s become a weekly thing since they got together, and Stiles can’t help but smile at how well his dad and Derek get along. They eat some roast chicken and watch baseball until it’s time for his dad to leave for work. Since it’s almost 3 o’clock, they go straight to Stiles’s apartment to pack his things. Yes, that’s right, Stiles is moving in with Derek. There’s no point in having the space when he spends all his time at Derek’s loft.
The pack, along with Scott and Allison, come over to help. With so many people, a majority of them being super strong werewolves, it takes almost no time at all to get everything loaded into the moving truck. It probably also helps that Stiles doesn’t have much to begin with anyway, and a few items—Stiles’s mattress and couch—get tossed to the curb since they’re old and not needed.
Scott and Allison end up leaving as soon as everything is unloaded at the loft—to go to dinner with Allison’s parents—but promise to join them for the next full moon. Derek checks the food and gets the mac ‘n cheese in the oven as soon as Boyd and Erica leave to return the truck, leaving Isaac and Stiles to start unpacking.
With no big furniture, Stiles’s things fit easily downstairs. His collection of Star Wars funko pops are a perfect addition to Derek’s bookshelves that house their large collection of DVDs. Derek got actual frames to hang Stiles’s favorite posters around the living room, and even Stiles’s treasured side table finds a new home next to the armchair.
Everything fits so seamlessly like it’s always been there.
By the time Boyd and Erica return, they’re done and starved, so it’s perfect timing that the oven beeps. Derek pulls out the mac ‘n cheese. The crispy, bubbly crust is drool-worthy. With the oven still hot, Stiles pops in the berry crumble, and they sit down.
Everyone is far too hungry to do anything but eat, and they get all the way to dessert before anyone speaks.
“So, Stiles,” Erica starts, and Stiles is already suspicious of the look she’s shooting Derek. “Did I ever tell you about the last time I got drunk?”
“Uh, no?” Stiles asks.
Derek tries to slap a hand over her mouth, but Erica is faster. “Yeah. Actually, this goes for pretty much every single time that Isaac or I have gotten drunk.”
“Yeah. Derek absolutely loves—”
“Erica.” Derek wears a scowl, clearly not liking the direction of this conversation. Stiles can’t help but laugh. He loves the way Derek lets down his guard around the pack—loves how Derek accepts the teasing.
“Fine,” Erica says with a toothy grin. “He hates taking care of us when we’re drunk.”
“Because you and Isaac don’t know your limits yet. You get sick everywhere, and then I can’t get the smell out of the loft for days.”
Isaac pushes back from the table, taking his plate to the sink. “I would just like to point out that it only happened once.”
“Yeah. One time too many,” Derek says with exasperation.
“If Boyd is here, he makes him take us home.” Erica leans into Boyd’s side and places a kiss on his jaw. “Isn’t that right, baby?”
Boyd cracks a rare grin and nods. “And if I’m not here, then I usually get a phone call to pick you up.”
“It could be three o’clock in the morning. I’m still calling Boyd.” Derek ends the conversation by hauling Stiles up and tossing him over his shoulder. Stiles yelps in protest but can’t complain too much considering the lovely view of Derek’s ass. “It’s getting late. We should head to the preserve.”
Erica and Boyd clear the table and join Isaac in the kitchen, already cleaning up.
“Guys, just leave it. We can get it later,” Stiles says after Derek puts him down. His shoes are sitting at the foot of the bed, so he quickly puts them on while Derek gets into some loose sweats.
“Yeah… I don’t think so,” Isaac calls out from the kitchen.
Stiles shoots him a confused look, and Erica snorts. “No offense, Bambi, but none of us want to be subjected to a night with you guys now that your heads are out of your asses.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“That you guys will want to boink all over the loft now that you’re officially moved in. It’s probably going to be worse than your heat.”
Stiles blushes at the implication but doesn't deny it.
All too soon, they are back in the preserve, and Stiles doesn’t bother averting his gaze when Derek strips—not just because Derek is incredibly hot. Watching Derek shift is magical.
Stiles is mesmerized as the air ripples around Derek—his smooth, tanned skin shedding away until a big, black wolf stares back at him. He drops to his knees and smiles softly before rubbing his cheek against Derek’s.
“Remember. We don’t make out in wolf form,” he whispers. Derek’s grin is recognizable in any form, so it’s unsurprising when a wet tongue licks across his cheek. “I hate you.”
Derek’s huff is a clear ‘No, you don’t.’ When he flops to his side, Stiles smiles and scratches at his belly—the significance of the gesture is no longer lost on him. Derek trusts him implicitly.
After a few minutes, Derek sits back on his haunches, and Stiles stands, brushing the dirt off his pants. “All right. Get out of here, you guys.”
Before they run off, Boyd gives him the same spiel from the first full moon, about how they’ll be close by. And just like last time, Derek seems to hesitate, but finally relents when Stiles nudges him to the treeline.
“Go on. I’m sure you’ll be able to find me easily wherever you run off to.”
Derek chuffs and gives Stiles one last look before throwing his head back and howling. It shakes Stiles to his very core, making him rub subconsciously over his mating bite as he feels the pull to his alpha.
The forest fills with the answering calls of the betas.
Stiles watches Derek sprint away, and once he’s out of sight, starts wandering for a bit. It’s hard not to be enchanted by the moonlight streaming through the trees, with the shadows of the leaves and branches dancing on the ground.
The sounds of the pack running and laughing echo through the trees, and he can’t help but smile. It gets wider when a shadow looms in the distance. His bond thrums with energy, and he instinctively knows it’s Derek.
“You are ridiculous,” he says when another huge buck is laid at his feet.
Stiles readily accepts it even though their freezer—and yeah, Stiles’s heart does a flip at calling it theirs—is still stuffed with venison from the first buck Derek brought him.
God, how fucking clueless was he?
The thought makes him laugh though he’s not entirely to blame, Derek could have spoken up at any time. Although, looking at it from Derek’s perspective—the different ways that Stiles had unknowingly accepted Derek’s courtship—Stiles can see how Derek also misunderstood.
Derek stays curled around Stiles after that, not that Stiles is complaining since it’s a little chilly and Derek is practically a furnace in this form. They sit there for another hour while the pack runs.
Before they head home, Stiles makes sure that none of the pack wants to stay. They are emphatic with their assurance that they do not want to be subjected to anymore unresolved sexual tension, even though Stiles assures them that it’s been completely resolved—in every room and every position known to man.
Derek shifts back, shakes his head, and throws Stiles over his shoulder again. He smiles happily.
Once they’re home, it’s hard to keep their hands off of each other; though, Derek insists on a shower first. Stiles practically sprints to the bathroom and gets the shower ready because he’s slick, horny, and wants to ride Derek’s knot. He offers no hesitation at pulling Derek out of the shower as soon as they’re clean, puts up a mild protest when Derek takes the time to dry them, and then shoves Derek back on the bed once they’re out of the bathroom.
~
For all intents and purposes, Stiles should be exhausted by now. It’s been a relatively long day with a lot of physical activity, but maybe that’s why he can’t sleep because he’s still too wired from moving and the pack run. It doesn’t help that he keeps thinking about how stupid he was for constantly worrying about Derek’s mate when it was him all along. It makes him laugh again.
Derek grunts and tips his head to look down at Stiles. “What’s going on?”
Stiles sighs as Derek’s hands start running up and down his back. “Just thinking about us and how stupid I was.” Derek clears his throat and raises a brow. Stiles knows that Derek is equally ashamed of how idiotic they were, so he corrects himself. “We were. It’s just—we could have had this the entire time.”
That earns another grunt from Derek, who flips them until Stiles is pressed into the mattress. Derek kisses him deeply before pulling away to kiss down the side of his neck. “Thought we agreed not to talk about it.”
“Inflection, Derek,” Stiles says breathlessly. He thinks about baseball, makes a grocery list, and mentally recites the periodic table as he wills his body not to respond when Derek sucks on his earlobe. “It’s ju—hnnng!—just funny. If you hadn’t told m-me to stop googling, I probably would have f-figured it out.”
Derek pulls away to stare down at Stiles. His lips are red and swollen, and his hair is in disarray, but his expression is serious. “What did I tell you, Stiles. You can’t trust Google.”
“I know,” Stiles says quickly. All he wants is Derek’s weight back on him, so he reaches up and rakes a hand through Derek’s hair to pull him closer. His breath hitches when Derek leans forward, as if to kiss him, but stops. Stiles’s heart is pounding in his chest. He licks his lips and looks up at Derek. “Please.”
Derek cups Stiles’s face as he falls to his elbows and gives him a gentle kiss. “I love you,” he whispers softly before finally giving in and devouring him.
Stiles moans into the heated kiss and hooks a leg around Derek’s waist, digging his heel into Derek’s ass. When Derek bites at his jaw, Stiles tips his head back in submission and whimpers. But it’s not enough.
“Wait wait wait,” Stiles says as he pushes Derek to the side. Derek falls easily, and Stiles smiles as he climbs over top, draping himself over Derek’s body. He rolls his hips so their erections drag against each other, giving him that sweet, delicious friction that makes him tremble.
(art by JD Gray - Twitter/Instagram)
“Oh, fu—” But Derek swallows his moans with a very passionate sweep of his tongue until Stiles pulls away, gasping for air.
Derek fists a hand in Stiles’s hair, tugging his head back to latch onto his throat. Fucking unfair because Derek knows how sensitive his neck is. Stiles bites his bottom lip and clutches at Derek as he continues grinding desperately against Derek’s dick and abs.
Beads of sweat drip down Stiles’s back, and his whole body quakes as Derek’s teeth nip at his skin. Stiles pushes up, splaying his hands on Derek’s chest as he rides Derek’s fingers, and when Derek adds a third, he cries out.
Derek’s free hand trails over Stiles’s chest, tweaking each nipple before continuing down. Stiles’s moans fill the loft, mixing with curses as Derek wraps a hand around their erections to jerk them off with a calloused hand.
Fuck!
Stiles’s lips part and hips stutter as he fucks into Derek’s fist before rocking back onto Derek’s fingers. Derek grunts and tightens his fist while he adds another finger.
Surprisingly, Stiles is not the one who snaps first. But he also knows how much Derek gets off on him getting off.
“Stiles.” Derek’s back arches off the bed as he practically growls Stiles’s name. His body goes taut, and his curses fill the loft. A tendon stands out on the side of Derek’s neck. Stiles wants to nibble on it because—fucking hell!—Derek looks so good when he cums. There’s something about the way his eyes roll to the back of his head before he sets a hard glare at the ceiling like it’s personally offended him, that really turns Stiles on.
Stiles watches Derek’s dick pulse as he keeps thrusting, digging his fingers into Derek’s shoulders, chasing his own release.
“Come on, Stiles,” Derek urges. “Let me see you cum.”
The order sends shockwaves through him. Stiles jerks forward, cumming into Derek's fist. He throws his head back and cries out in pleasure before collapsing on Derek’s chest. Words are lost to him, and all he can do is hum his approval of a great orgasm as his nerve endings tingle and his body twitches.
They’re going to be a mess when they wake, but Stiles can’t bring himself to move. And since Derek would gladly walk around smelling like them and sex, he knows Derek doesn’t care.
“G’nna sl’p,” he mumbles into the crook of Derek’s neck; his eyes are already closed.
Derek nuzzles his cheek and presses kisses to wherever he can reach. “Sleep, Stiles. I’ve got you.”
“Mmm…” Stiles smiles sleepily as Derek’s arms tighten around him.
~
Stiles wakes to Derek’s phone ringing. He yawns and squints at the phone screen when it lights up. “Wha…? Who’s it?”
“Not sure. Don’t recognize the number, but I got it. Just rest,” Derek whispers, scratching lightly at the nape of Stiles’s neck to soothe him before answering the call. His voice is low and gruff—a stark contrast to the sweet, loving way he had just murmured to Stiles. “Hello.”
There’s nothing for a second, and Stiles closes his eyes, sighing against the rhythmic rise and fall of Derek’s chest. He’s almost back asleep, relaxing easily as Derek rubs his back, but he blinks one eye open when Derek mutters, “Christ,” under his breath.
“‘S going on?” he asks, a little more alert now. Derek doesn’t answer, choosing to hand the phone over instead. Stiles takes it, looking at the screen in confusion until Derek gestures for him to listen.
There’s heavy breathing over the line, and Stiles’s eyes widen at the familiar thwap thwap thwap of someone jerking off. “What the fuck? Who the fuck is this?”
“It said to call. For a good time.” There’s a pitiful whine over the line, and Stiles scoffs.
“Yeah, well, you called the wrong number, buddy!” Stiles yells into the line before ending the call. He looks over at Derek in complete disbelief—especially when the phone rings again. Stiles answers automatically. “What?”
“What are you wearing?”
“Oh, you have got to be fucking kidding me.” He hangs up again and looks at Derek pointedly. “Have you gotten other calls like this?”
Derek snorts and raises a brow as he sits up. “Well, yeah, as a matter of fact, there was this one time...”
Stiles narrows his eyes at the reminder of the way they met and jabs a finger into Derek’s chest. “I’m being serious.”
“No, Stiles. Since you,” Stiles sticks his tongue out at Derek, “this has been the only phone call like that.” Derek tilts his head like he’s searching his memory. “Though, now that I think about it, Erica did ask me if I’ve gotten any weird calls lately. Seemed disappointed when I said no.”
The cogs turn, and it’s like a lightbulb goes off in Stiles’s head. “Fucking Erica!”
Derek seems to think the same and shakes his head. “She wouldn’t. She wouldn’t do that.” But Stiles gives him a look that says ‘really?’Derek sighs heavily. “She would.”
The phone rings again, the same number, and Stiles growls. “All right. I guess it’s time to finally show you how to block numbers.”
“I know how to block numbers, Stiles,” Derek says with a small smirk.
Stiles raises a brow. “You said you didn’t know how.”
Derek shrugs and grabs his phone, showing Stiles that he does in fact know how to block phone numbers.
“Then why didn’t you block mine?” Stiles asks, genuinely curious.
Derek sets the phone back on the nightstand and pulls Stiles back against him before he answers. “I don’t know. I guess I was hoping you’d call back.”
Stiles scrunches his face in confusion. “But you were all growly when I did.”
“I can’t explain it. I’ve met plenty of omegas throughout my life, but none of them have ever affected me like you did. You whined—your omega cried out for me—and my wolf...reacted. I...” Derek sighs and runs a hand through his hair before continuing. “I partially shifted and clawed holes into my favorite pillow,” Derek scoffs like he still can’t believe it happened. “It freaked me out—I panicked and hung up before I got stupid and tried to find you. Besides, just because I was hoping you’d call back, doesn’t mean I actually expected you to. It caught me off guard and, as you know by now, I’m pretty terrible with words.”
Stiles blankets himself over Derek’s chest again. “You’re always good with me.”
“You make it easy. You can read me. I barely have to talk, and you know what I’m saying. You know me, Stiles,” Derek says, running his hands over Stiles’s back.
Stiles smiles softly and pushes up to give Derek a gentle kiss. “‘Cause I’m yours.”
“And I’m yours.”
“Damn right you are. And I’m calling Erica right now to tell her she needs to go scratch your number off whatever wall she put it on!”
“Calm down, little omega.” Derek does the rumble-purr that Stiles loves so much. Though Stiles is sure that Derek loves when he gets possessive of him. “We can yell at her in the morning.”
Stiles would put up more of a fight, but the vibrations from Derek’s body relax him, and he sighs in contentment. “Mmkay. Love you, Derek.”
“And I love you, Stiles,” Derek breathes against his temple, and Stiles closes his eyes, feeling warm in Derek’s arms—knowing it’s exactly where he’s meant to be.
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