I do not own Teen Wolf or any of its characters.
Warning: This story is nothing but gratuitous smut with no plot and some humor. Strong, strong language.
Some like it loud.
Fuck. Why had they never done this before?
Stiles chokes on his breath, seizing forward as Derek grinds into him, smashing their denim-clad cocks together in a violent and magnificent way.
Oh-so magnificent. More than magnificent. The top of the tops. Top of the- Fuckkk…
Stiles surges into Derek, digging his nails into the back of Derek's neck; the violent action causing Derek to release something akin to a roar, pushing Stiles away and flipping his body, smashing his face into the wall.
"Wha- Ahh!" Stiles cries out as Derek bits down into the back of his neck.
Grabbing his hips, Derek forces them flat against the wall, biting down harder as he grinds his dick into Stiles back with enough force to push him up the wall.
Stiles screams as it sends his dick into the hard dry-wall; aggressively rubbing his cock in the best mix of pleasure and pain.
"You fucking little whore, you like this?" Derek growls, shifting one of his hands to the back of Stiles's neck, pushing the boys face further against the wall.
Stiles moans as Derek rapidly beats his hips into his ass, sending his body rhythmically- violently- into the wall.
"Shittt…"
"Stiles, what the hell are you doing in there? I could hear you from down stai-"
Stiles stiffens; the heat against his back suddenly gone.
Turning around slowly in horror, he sees his dad standing in his door way, his mouth opened wide and eyes bulging.
"What the fuck is going on?!" The sheriff yells, surging into the room and making a b-line for Derek, who is now on the opposite side of the room. "What the fuck were you doing to my son?!"
Derek opens his mouth to speak, but the sheriff interrupts him.
"Don't fucking speak! I don't need you telling me what you were doing, you dumb ass! You were fucking grinding my God damn son into the wall, you pervert!"
Stiles's winces as he watches his dad's face take on a terrifying red color; the veins in his head pushing out with a vengeance.
And then his dad is whipping around, striding towards Stiles, pushing him into the wall with his pointer finger.
"And you! What the hell were you doing with a twenty-five year old man in your room?!"
Stiles mouth gaps open as he tries to find words to say.
"Don't fucking answer that!" His dad yells, poking him forcibly in the center of his forehead, before moving away from his son and pacing along the floor of the bedroom.
Neither Derek nor Stiles speak as sheriff mumbles under his breath, looking up and glaring at each of them before looking away and mumbling some more.
Everything is quiet when he stops.
He turns to Derek.
"So are you two dating?" He asks his eyebrows drawn together.
Derek frowns, beginning to open his mouth before Sheriff Stilinski interrupts him.
"Because you better be dating him if you are going to do that shit in my house." The sheriff growls, pushing Derek into the computer chair,- which Derek surprising goes along with.
"Now here is how it is going to work." His dad growls. "You are going to leave my house when we are done talking. You will then come over tomorrow night and ask permission to date my son. You will then take him to a nice, expensive restaurant. You will bring him home no later than 10 o'clock and you will give me the receipt for the dinner before you leave. Do we understand each other?"
Stilinski moves into Derek's face as he talks, waiting until Derek nods before moving away and pointing to the door.
"Now move your ass!" He yells.
Derek is instantly up and out of the chair moving towards the doorway, stopping him in his tracks when the sheriff begins to speak again.
"And Stiles's window is going to stay locked from now on, so get used to using the front door, son."
Derek pauses, looking at the sheriff before nodding dumbly and leaving the house.
Sheriff Stilinski waits until the front door closes before he looks over at his son, who is still pressed against the wall in shock.
Shaking his head, he mumbles, "Little whore? Really Stiles? Is that what the kids are saying now-a-days?"
Stiles stammers, his face burning in embarrassment.
His dad just gives him a disapproving look before he walks towards the bedroom door, pausing at the doorway and shifting feet.
"Do we need to have the talk again?" The sheriff asks, "I mean, I know we had the talk before, but this time it would be different. You know, different- uhh- anatomies involved…"
Stiles shifts his mouth up and down before he manages to speak.
"Uhh, no, we're good. I got it covered. Yeah. All good." Stiles mutters, shifting in his spot, looking everywhere but his dad.
His dad nods, walking out the door, before he pauses again.
"God-damn son-" He sighs, scratching the back of his head, "Just keep it down next time."
And with that, he is gone leaving Stiles bright red and gapping at bedroom door.