be everything that you need
written for @sterekfests week six prompt: luxe lakeside, @sterekweekly word prompt: ocean, @sterekbingo square: falling asleep on my shoulder, and @sterek-and-stuff-events mead moons prompt(s): claiming, full moon, and buck
Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski Characters: Stiles Stilinski, Derek Hale Additional Tags: POV Stiles Stilinski, Alternate Universe - Werewolves Are Known, Established Relationship, Summer Vacation, Alpha Derek Hale, Full Moon, Werewolf Courting, Blow Jobs, Fluff, Hunting and Providing, Erica Reyes is a Little Shit, Hale Pack - FREEFORM
[excerpt]
Stiles could feel Derek's gaze on him. It was like a physical touch, and when he looked over his shoulder, he smirked. Derek's eyes were dark, flared with heat. "See something you like?" Stiles asked, a teasing lilt to his voice. Derek pressed against his back, kissing his shoulder before turning Stiles in his arms. "You know I do."
"Holy shit," Stiles whispered as he climbed out of Derek's Camaro.
When Derek said his family owned a cabin by the lake, Stiles had stupidly imagined something more like the small, quaint wooden cabin he used to stay in whenever he went fishing with his dad as a kid. The kind with a low front porch and long overhanging roof—not the mansion in front of him.
It was all stone and wood and glass windows. High ceilings with diagonal harsh angles. An architect's dream.
After Derek grabbed their bags from the backseat, Stiles followed him up the steps to the wraparound porch and into the cabin. It was quiet, which was surprising since Isaac, Erica, and Boyd were already here, but they were probably down at the lake by now.
"Let me put the bags in our room and then I'll give you a tour," Derek said, leading him down the hall to the last door on the left.
Stiles was sure he looked ridiculous with his mouth hanging open as he took in the floor-to-ceiling windows on two walls that looked out toward the lake and into nature. The room was painted in warm colors, and they had a fireplace, as well as a private bathroom. In short, it was perfect.
Derek set their bags on the bed and turned to Stiles with a smile. "Did you want to change? I figure we can head down to the lake after the tour. Everyone else is probably down there already."
"Yeah," Stiles said, walking up next to him and grabbing his bag. He unzipped it and dug around for a pair of his swimming trunks. However, he froze the moment Derek yanked his shirt over his head, putting all that smooth skin and hard muscles on display.
Drool.
Seriously, Stiles knew Derek had to scent his arousal. The smirk on Derek's stupidly handsome face said as much.
"Oh, shut up," Stiles grumbled, though it was without heat. Besides, it wasn't as if Derek wasn't just as affected by Stiles—which was proven when Derek growled after Stiles took his own shirt off.
Stiles could feel Derek's gaze on him. It was like a physical touch, and when he looked over his shoulder, he smirked. Derek's eyes were dark, flared with heat.
"See something you like?" Stiles asked, a teasing lilt to his voice.
Derek pressed against his back, kissing his shoulder before turning Stiles in his arms. "You know I do."
And when Derek's hand landed on the side of his neck—his thumb creating circles on Stiles's skin that exploded through his body in currents of pleasure—Stiles quit breathing. The look on Derek's face was intense, as if Derek were devouring him with his eyes. And then Derek dropped his hand, only to place it on Stiles's bare waist as he dipped down to mouth at the crook of Stiles's neck.
Derek's lips, so soft and moist, nibbled on his skin. Stiles moaned, tilting his head back in encouragement.
"One day, I'm going to claim you," Derek whispered before biting down a little harder. Then his tongue swept over the spot, sending shivers down Stiles's spine. "Right here."
Jesus fuck.
Stiles wanted that. He wanted Derek to suck bruises onto his neck and shoulders. Onto his chest, stomach, and thighs. He wanted Derek's marks all over him—claiming him. He knew it would happen one day, and he couldn't fucking wait.
Derek's mouth laid a path along Stiles's throat, dropping hot, wet kisses along the way. Stiles's dick sprang to attention, straining painfully against the zipper of his jeans. Derek raised his head, his tongue landing at Stiles's ear, and Stiles shivered when Derek sucked his earlobe into his mouth.
He gasped.
He moaned.
"You smell so good," Derek whispered before shoving their bags to the floor and pushing Stiles back onto the mattress.
Derek straddled him, urging him to lie down. He attacked Stiles not even a second later, as if he couldn't wait. Kissing him—all hot and wild. Crazed with desire.
Stiles scrambled back to get all the way onto the bed, pulling Derek with him.
Yes, yes, yes, his body chanted as time slammed to a halt. Everything and everyone was forgotten. This was all Stiles wanted right now. All he needed.
Derek's hard, warm body over him, pressing him down into the mattress.
Derek's big hands threaded into his hair.
Derek's mouth slanted down over his again and again.
Oh yes, oh fucking yes, please.
Derek's lips were warm and wet. His tongue made long, greedy draws against Stiles's that made his toes curl. There was absolutely no finesse to their making out; both were too hungry. Too desperate. The room filled with their moans and groans. Their grunts and heavy breathing.
Stiles trailed his hands over the hard planes of Derek's back, the skin-to-skin driving him wild. And then Derek pulled away. Stiles let out a completely unmanly whimper, but Derek grabbed his chest, tweaking his nipples, and Stiles let out a howl of need.
Derek's eyes were half-mast, filled with lust. His golden skin was flushed with desire—for Stiles. It was such a heady feeling. With Derek grinding against him, Stiles was sure he'd blow in his jeans.
Especially when Derek said, "Want to suck you."
And before Stiles could even nod, Derek began dropping hot, open-mouthed kisses across his pecs, lingering over his nipples. Then he traced the centerline of Stiles's chest with his tongue. Like a fucking tease.
Stiles was on fire, panting like a maniac. He lifted his hips when Derek yanked his jeans open, tugging them and his boxers down his legs. And when Derek nuzzled his groin, Stiles fisted the sheets. His grip tightened when Derek's tongue traced his cock. It sent an electric jolt through him, and his hips canted off the bed, desperate for a bit of friction.
When Derek opened his mouth and took Stiles in, Stiles's brain took a sabbatical. It short-circuited as everything was reduced to wet heat and suction.
Stiles looked down his body, and the sight almost undid him. Derek Hale was on his fucking knees—for him. His cheeks were drawn in, and he gave a good, hard suck, making Stiles shout.
Derek moaned, and Stiles watched as he reached down, rubbing himself through his jeans.
Derek moaned again, and the vibration almost finished Stiles off.
"Wanna suck you, too," Stiles rasped.
Derek quickly yanked his jeans open. He pushed them and his boxer briefs off, and they hit the floor with a jingle when he kicked them over the side of the bed. And then Derek was back. He flipped around, kneeling beside Stiles's head, and bent over, taking Stiles from an even better angle than before.
"Ugnng…" Stiles said. It was hard to be eloquent with Derek's mouth on his dick.
He ran his hand up the inside of Derek's bare thigh, his fingers sifting through his soft leg hair on the way to the good stuff. When Stiles cupped him, Derek gasped. When Stiles stroked him, he moaned.
The salty flavor of skin burst on Stiles's tongue when he gave Derek a long, slow suck, and Derek let out the sexiest noise Stiles had ever heard—no matter how many times they did this.
Stiles swirled his tongue and slowly slipped down to the thicket of dark curls at the base of Derek's gorgeous cock, licking every inch of him. Derek was thick and hard and throbbing in his mouth, and then it was practically over.
Derek kept moaning as he thrust into Stiles's mouth, and Stiles knew he wouldn't survive it. It was too good. He was too close.
So. Fucking. Close.
His balls drew up tight, and he pulled off Derek's dick, stroking him as he slammed his head back onto the pillow and gasped, "Oh, fuck. I'm coming."
His orgasm crested, filling his world with intense, pulsing pleasure. A few seconds later, Derek followed him over the edge, coming on a muffled groan, spilling over Stiles's hand and shuddering with satisfaction.
Silence descended as they caught their breaths, Derek panting against Stiles's stomach.
"Come up here," Stiles croaked, wiping his hand on the comforter, and Derek swiveled and fell, his head landing on the pillow beside Stiles.
Derek turned on his side, reaching for him. They kissed, and Derek's mouth was salty now. Stiles could taste himself, and—fuck!—that was hot. They laid there, making out for seconds, minutes, hours, when there was a knock on the bedroom door.
Shit.
Stiles had forgotten that the pack was there, and when he looked up, Erica pushed the door open, her cherry-red lips lifted in a smug grin.
Derek threw a pillow at her, quickly maneuvering his body to shield Stiles from view.
"If you guys are done," she said, easily catching the pillow and throwing it back. "Boyd's got the grill fired up."
Derek swatted the pillow away before it could hit them and let out a sort of growl mixed with an exasperated laugh. "We'll be there in a minute!"
She tossed her blonde curls over her shoulder and turned on her heels. Her laughter echoed down the hall, and Stiles chuckled nervously. It wasn't the first time they'd been caught in a compromising position, but it was still embarrassing.
Derek probably sensed his unease because he began rubbing soothing circles on Stiles's back. "I'm sorry."
"It's okay," Stiles shrugged, huffing a laugh. "I'm surprised you didn't hear her, though."
"Well," Derek kissed the tip of his nose. There was humor in his eyes. "I was kind of distracted..."
Stiles snorted, then nodded because that was true. Besides, it wasn't as if they had any real sense of privacy with Derek's pack around. After a moment, he said, "Alright. Guess we should change and get out there then."
Derek nodded, giving him a soft kiss before climbing off the bed, and Stiles did the same. They picked their bags up from the floor and found their swim trunks. They quickly cleaned themselves up and changed.
"Ready for the tour?" Derek asked when they were done, and Stiles nodded.
He followed Derek back down the hall to the huge living room with comfortable-looking couches and armchairs. The fireplace was massive and had a large wrought iron clock above it.
Super fancy, but also cozy. Homey.
They walked into the kitchen, and Stiles was sure it could rival any five-star restaurant with its stainless steel, high-end appliances. And there was a large center island that could easily seat Derek's pack.
After a quick tour of the rest of the cabin, Derek and Stiles headed outside. The backyard had a huge firepit, and Stiles couldn't wait to sit out here, curled up on one of the deck chairs while the pack ran under the full moon.
All at once, a wave of calm washed over Stiles. He could still feel the warmth of Derek's hands on his skin and the echo of his pleasure in his body.
Derek put his arm around Stiles as they walked toward the pack, and Stiles couldn't help but smile. This was his life now, and he wanted to savor every moment.
He didn't want to take this for granted—not for one second.
He'd never felt happier.
****
Stiles sat on the back deck, grateful for the warm evening air. He watched in awe as Derek and his pack ran through the woods under the full moon—the sky painted purple. Every once in a while, he could see them dash between the trees, their silhouettes lit by the silvery light. It was a beautiful sight, and somehow, Stiles felt connected to them. As if he could feel their wild energy and connection to the natural world.
There was something about the experience that stirred something deep inside him. Almost as if he were home.
Derek howled. The sound echoed through the trees, and all Stiles wanted to do was be out there with him. Running beside him. Well, more like walking because, honestly, Stiles hated running.
So he stepped off the back deck, shoving his hands in his pockets as he trekked toward the tree line. He breathed in the night air and listened as the pack's responding howls faded into the night.
Usually, Stiles would be scared to walk through the woods at night with the trees casting ominous shadows, their dark fingers stretching toward him in the moonlight. But this time, the moonlit forest was comforting—as if it embraced him. It was almost peaceful. It also helped to know that he wasn't alone. All Stiles had to do was call out, and Derek would come running with three werewolves at his heels.
Stiles closed his eyes, tilting his head back as he took in the sounds and scents around him: rustling leaves, a loud whoop and laughter from the pack, and the smell of damp earth and rotting wood. When he opened his eyes, he smiled at the glow of pale moonlight. It was like an awakening of his senses, and he couldn't help the feeling of contentment that washed over him as he stood there, just inside the tree line.
A branch snapped. Stiles squinted, trying to spot whatever was coming his way. A figure stepped out from the shadows—a hulking beast of a wolf that stood nearly as tall as him, fur black as night.
Derek.
Stiles smiled as he approached, and then his mouth dropped open at the sight of the large buck Derek was dragging. He was speechless as Derek set it at his feet.
Derek looked smug, wearing a smirk that was recognizable in any form. And he had every right to because, sure, Derek was an alpha werewolf, but this buck was massive. Not something Derek chased and snapped up with ease. No, a buck like this wouldn't have been easy prey.
Derek had to hunt this one down.
And Stiles knew there was significance in the gesture. A courting ritual for werewolves. Derek was showing Stiles that he could provide for him—that he would be a good mate.
It sent a thrill through Stiles to know that Derek wanted him that much.
"Thank you," Stiles said, brushing his knuckles down the side of Derek's face, and when Derek sat back on his haunches, Stiles carded his fingers through Derek's soft fur and pressed their foreheads together, smiling. "My alpha."
Derek's tail thumped wildly on the ground before giving Stiles a tongue bath.
"Okay, yeah, no." Stiles grimaced but laughed, pushing Derek back before wiping the slurpy kiss away with his shirt. "We don't make out in wolf form."
Derek chuffed, but there was humor in the tone, so Stiles didn't think he'd offended him. And then Derek gently bit down on Stiles's hand, tugging him back toward the cabin.
Or at least that was where Stiles thought Derek was taking him until Derek turned down the path that led toward the lake. It might not have been the ocean, but it was still beautiful, nonetheless. Derek let him go when they got to the water's edge and trotted out into the water.
Stiles chuckled, running a hand through his hair. The lake was dotted with what looked like tiny sparkles beneath the surface, as if stars had fallen into the water.
"Er, what are you doing?" Stiles asked. "And what about the deer?"
Derek didn't answer. Instead, he ducked under the water, disappearing for a few moments. When he reappeared, he was shifted back.
"The pack will take care of the buck." Derek said, walking out of the water until it was waist-high, looking hot as fuck. The dim light made shadows in the valleys of his abs, taunting Stiles. Teasing him. "The water's nice. You should join me."
"I don't have my suit," Stiles pointed out, but Derek gave him a look that screamed, so? It made sense since Derek was naked, after all.
So Stiles kicked off his shoes before stripping out of his clothes, dropping them onto the rocks at the water's edge. It wasn't a hot night, but the temperature wasn't too bad when Stiles stepped into the water. In fact, it caressed his bare skin as he waded toward Derek.
Derek chuckled, and the sound made Stiles smile, his chest warming. It was probably cliché, but it really was music to his ears.
When he reached Derek, Stiles sprung forward, grabbing Derek's shoulders as he wrapped his legs around him.
Derek cupped his ass and kissed him, moaning into his mouth.
"You are so fucking addictive," Derek whispered when he broke the kiss.
Stiles blushed. Or at least he assumed he was from the heat rising to his cheeks. So he let go of Derek and ducked under the water, swimming out toward the floating platform. Stiles had laid out there earlier after they ate lunch.
The difference now was that the water was dark. Obviously.
The lake was beautiful—and a little creepy, if he were being honest. There was a tiny part of Stiles that hated when his feet touched something he couldn't see. And, as if he manifested it, something touched his leg when he was almost to the dock. He knew it was Derek, though. And sure enough, Derek broke the surface not even a second later, face split in a ridiculous grin.
Stiles splashed him, exclaiming, "You asshole!" Though his tone was light—no heat in his words.
Derek laughed, treading water beside him. "Forgive me?"
Stiles nodded, biting back a grin. "Just don't do it again."
"I won't," Derek promised. The expression on his face was soft and sincere, and Stiles trusted that he really wouldn't.
Derek smiled and hauled himself onto the floating platform, but Stiles didn't climb on just yet. He needed the water to cool his heated skin. Especially when Derek sat on the edge, his legs dangling in the water while his bare chest glistened under the moonlight.
Jesus. So sexy.
When Derek held out his hand, Stiles took it, allowing Derek to pull him up onto the platform. They laid side by side, watching the stars overhead as they talked about anything and everything. About nothing.
Stiles couldn't help himself—he curled closer to Derek, inhaling his scent and feeling content. When Derek cupped his cheek, Stiles leaned in and kissed him. Opened for him as their tongues tangled. And when Derek's fingers wove through the hair at the back of Stiles's head, Stiles moaned, grateful that the darkness gave them some semblance of privacy.
There he was, making out with the most beautiful man, Derek's cock hard against his belly. This had to be what heaven felt like.
Stiles pulled away with a sigh and laid his head on Derek's shoulder, snuggling closer. It was late, and he was getting tired but also wasn't quite ready for the night to end. Still, he must have drifted off at some point because Derek shook him awake. He smiled as Stiles blinked up at him, bleary-eyed.
"Hey," Derek whispered, trailing a finger down the side of Stiles's face. "We should head back. You were falling asleep on my shoulder."
Stiles groaned. Okay, it was more of a yawn.
"It's too soon," he complained.
Derek chuckled. "Come on, Sleeping Beauty. There's always tomorrow."
Stiles sighed, but it was half-hearted. He wanted to stay, but Derek was right—they had the rest of the weekend. Besides, it wasn't as if they couldn't cuddle in bed. So he clambered off the dock, shivering as he dipped below the tepid water.
There was a splash beside him, and then Derek popped up next to him, grinning. He spun, giving Stiles his back. "Come on. I'll carry you back."
Stiles couldn't help but smile at the gesture and did as he said. His heart swelled as Derek swam them back to shore.
Twenty minutes and a quick shower later, he was tucked away in bed—heart completely full. And as he drifted off to sleep, Stiles never wanted this feeling to end.