Stiles started the blog about a year into the werewolf stuff, when his research ended up leading him to some interesting places.
His posts had originally just been short descriptions of what he thought werewolf sex would be like, just little streams of consciousness focusing on the teeth, the claws, the strength.
About a month in he’d posted a picture of Derek—black and white, and cropped above the shoulders to preserve privacy—shirtless with his claws out, then written a full page detailing everything he’d do with him, if only he could.
That had gotten him noticed.
And he’d only gained popularity when he’d gotten into knotting, especially when he’d started trying out different knotted dildos and posting pictures—not showing his face, of course!— of himself using them. And thanks to his tiny, private college apartment, he’d been able to intersperse the many kink posts with numerous artistic nudes of himself, which to his surprise his followers loved. It had the added bonus of showing him that he was far more appealing than he’d ever given himself credit for, and helped him feel more confident.
The blog was his place, separate from everything going on in real life, where he could express himself freely without any real worry of what other people would think. Because nobody around here would ever find it, Stiles was sure.
Which is why, when he’d rolled into Derek’s loft unannounced and seen him looking at his blog—specifically looking at the latest post, a photoset of Stiles riding a knotted dildo until he’d come hard—he’d frozen in shock.
“Oh my god,” he blurts, “How did you—”
Derek spins around, looking embarrassed and startled. He must have been really distracted. “What, I’m not allowed to look at porn? Or did you just think I didn’t know how to use the internet?” he asks defensively, a blush high on his cheeks.
“Uh, neither?” Stiles says, a little thrown. It’s totally cool for Derek to look at porn. He just wasn’t expecting it to be his porn. “Wait—do you follow this blog?”
“Yeah,” Derek says, his blush deepening. “I have for a while. This guy knows how much he appeals to werewolves, and he makes the most of it. Really desperate to be knotted, though.”
“Don’t I know it,” Stiles mumbles, then winces.
Derek’s eyes narrow. “Do you follow this blog? Why are you interested in a werewolf kink blog?”
“Uh,” Stiles says, because he’s in some trouble now. Derek will hear any lie he tries. “What makes you think it’s a kink blog?”
“The title is I Want Werewolf Sex,” Derek says dryly. “It was an easy guess.”
Stiles sometimes wishes he were more subtle. “So, um, how long have you been following it?” he asks awkwardly. How mortified do I have to be?
“I found it about six months ago,” Derek says. “And at first I wasn’t too sure about it. Didn’t think it’d be my kind of thing. But then he started using more realistic knotted dildos, and that—” he licks his lips, “—that was good.”
Stiles feels heat flood his body, burning away his mortification as he realizes Derek has been getting off on pictures of him. It’s both an amazing compliment and the hottest image ever.
“You didn’t answer my question, though,” Derek says, eyes intent on him. “Do you follow the blog?”
“Not exactly,” Stiles hedges, then realizes this could have been some kind of weird we-like-the-same-porn bonding moment if he’d said yes. Derek’s eyebrows raise, clearly waiting for more, and Stiles suddenly, impulsively wants him to know. And he’ll probably regret it immediately, but, “Derek, it’s my blog.”
Derek snorts in amusement, then abruptly freezes, his senses obviously informing him that Stiles is telling the truth. “What? No. There aren’t any freckles on the guy in the pictures.”
Which is absolutely not the first sentence he expected out of Derek’s mouth, but he rolls with it. “I photoshopped them out. Along with any distinctive scars. I wanted to be sure no one knew it was me, okay?”
“At first, I’d imagined it was you, hoped it was you, but I talked myself out of it,” Derek mutters, then his eyes widen. “So you desperately want to be knotted.”
Stiles groans, hides his face in his hands. There’s the regret, right on schedule. “You can’t tell anyone. This is so embarrassing, oh my god.”
“I wasn’t going to tell anyone. I was going to offer,” Derek says, his tone interesting enough to get Stiles to drop his hands.
“Offer what?” he asks cautiously.
“The real thing,” Derek says, and he’s smirking a little now. “I’ll knot you, if you want.”
The flood of arousal that surges through his body is probably answer enough, he still says, with way too much eagerness, “Yeah, I want that.” I want that right now.
“Okay,” Derek says, and Stiles totally loves the werewolf strength thing, because it means they both end up on the couch really quickly, with Stiles resting comfortably on Derek’s lap.
Derek’s grinding up, just a little, a tease that’s making Stiles feel hot all over, but tragically it’s also making him feel a whole bunch of self-doubt. Stiles has only had sex with a couple of girls and his rather vast collection of sex toys.
He’s not really sure how to work with a cock when it’s attached to a person. What if he fucks it up? He doesn’t actually know what he’s doing.
“Stiles?” Derek says cautiously, and Stiles realizes that he’s frozen up on top of Derek, muscles tense. God only knows what his face looks like.
“Uh, despite what my blog might lead you to believe, I’m not actually that experienced,” he says, loosening his death grip on Derek’s shoulders.
Derek slides a hand up Stiles’ thigh to his hip, and it’s weirdly soothing. “Okay. We can go slow, or we don’t have to do anything at all,” he says. He tips his head back, looking at Stiles with a little smile on his face. “Let’s start with something easy. Do you want to kiss me?”
Stiles’ eyes flit across his face, and he’s pretty sure Derek has never looked more kissable than he does right now. No way can he resist. “Yeah,” he breathes, and leans forward until he can press his lips against the soft curve of Derek’s.
His lips are already parted, and when his tongue slips into Stiles’ mouth, it reignites the fire in him. He groans, deepening the kiss and feeling Derek’s hands squeeze encouragingly at his hips. When he licks into Derek’s mouth he can’t help grinding forward too, doing it again when Derek rocks up to meet him.
It starts to feel good, too good, like Stiles could come from this, his mouth and his body surging desperately against Derek’s, and he’s so close—
“Stiles,” Derek grits out, hands trying to still him, “Do you want me to knot you?”
Stiles shifts a little, realizes he’s been grinding his ass down against the bulge in Derek’s pants pretty aggressively. But his tension is gone and so is his worry, because Derek seems as into this as he is, and he surely won’t let him mess up too badly.
“Yeah,” Stiles says, taking another breathless kiss from Derek.
“Seemed like you wanted me to try doing it through our clothes,” Derek says with a little smirk, hands curling around the back of his thighs and spreading them just a little wider. “I’ve seen you fuck a lot of dildos,” he says, fingers tracing the curves of Stiles’ ass. “So what’s your favorite position to take a knot?”
“Uh,” Stiles says, trying to push into the contact, which feels good even through his jeans. “I like riding it best—makes it easier to sink down on the knot.”
“I won’t knot until after I’m inside you, but we can do it that way if you want,” Derek says, but Stiles is barely paying attention, because Derek is pushing and rubbing at the material between his legs, and it’s making his cock twitch in his uncomfortably tight pants.
“I want us to get naked, please,” he groans out.
Derek promptly stands, making Stiles yelp in surprise, and carries him easily to the bedroom. Stiles is happy to reaffirm that werewolf strength is, in fact, really hot.
Derek drops him gracelessly to the bed, and Stiles would complain about that, but then Derek is taking off his shirt and pants, and Stiles suddenly doesn’t have anything to say. He stares eagerly at the curve of Derek’s cock, which seems pretty ordinary right now, at least in Stiles’ limited experience.
Then his view is obstructed by his own shirt as Derek yanks it up and off, followed by his jeans and underwear together. At first it’s a little weird, feeling Derek’s slick fingers inside him, but he enjoys the novelty of somebody else prepping him while he just gets to lay back and enjoy it.
Derek keeps his other hand busy too, trailing it across Stiles’ stomach and hips before lightly stroking his cock. It’s amazing, feeling himself stretch open on Derek’s fingers, and he can’t wait for Derek to actually fuck him.
No sooner than he thinks that, Derek pulls away and flops down next to Stiles on the bed, raising an eyebrow. “Well?” he says, patting low on his stomach. “Want to get on?”
Stiles is up in a second, slinging a leg over Derek and hovering there for a second, nearly touching, enjoying how pliant and turned on Derek looks. He curls his hand around Derek’s cock, giving it a quick stroke just to see how it feels, then begins to lower himself down on it.
It’s very different from using a dildo. For one, those don’t come with a view of amazing abs. And none of his dildos feel quite like this—warm and solid and real. Stiles loves his toys, but this is so much hotter, especially with the little noises Derek’s making as he works his way down.
He has to move around a lot, because the angle is different from what he’s used to, and he lets out a low moan when he finally gets it right, sinking all the way down to rest against Derek’s hips. He has to stay there for a moment, hands braced against Derek’s chest, while he adjusts to the fullness.
He gives an experimental shift of his hips, and Derek’s hands come up, gently guiding. They eventually move into a tiny rhythm, mostly just Stiles sliding forward and back, but it still sparks pleasure through him.
He begins to lift on every motion, starting to really ride Derek, and Derek bends his knees, pushing up under him in powerful little thrusts. Stiles is feeling a lot less tentative now, wanting to drive his hips forward until he gets what he needs, but—
There’s no knot. Derek’s cock still feels perfectly normal inside him, and he tries to push down his disappointment. Surely if Derek could do it, it would have happened by now.
Well, he’ll just enjoy himself anyway.
He speeds up, knees spreading and sliding against the sheets, back arching as he rocks into Derek hard and fast. That’s obviously working for Derek, who begins push-pull Stiles’ hips into a slightly different motion than before. One that feels really good.
Derek’s making quiet, urgent sounds now, and Stiles thinks he must be close. Seconds later Derek’s hands tighten on his hips, dragging Stiles down hard onto his cock as he comes with a jolt.
Stiles has an instant to watch before Derek’s cock is suddenly spreading him open, pressing constant and inescapable right where he needs it the most. Stiles squirms helplessly as the pleasure cascades and his orgasm is practically shoved out of him.
“Ah, fuck,” he groans with feeling, trembling all over. This is usually when he pulls off the knotted dildo, but he can’t do that this time and ends up a little overwhelmed, his cock pulsing through the drawn-out aftershocks. His body still feels like it’s on the verge of coming, so he strokes himself a couple of times and gasps through another orgasm, hips twitching and pushing the knot deeper inside him.
Beneath him Derek is blissed out and shuddering, his hands running across Stiles’ hips and thighs, soothing and pleasurable. He looks comfortable, eyes closed and head tipped back, and Stiles wants to join him. He grabs the edge of a sheet and wipes off the mess he made on Derek’s belly, then inches his way down. They both wince when he tries to move too much, but eventually he gets where he’s lying flat against Derek, face buried against his neck.
He presses a kiss there, then closes his eyes contentedly when Derek’s arms curl around him. It’s quiet for a long time, so long that Stiles thinks Derek has dozed off. Then he says softly, “So, I was thinking about your blog.”
Stiles feels his heart speed up. He hopes Derek isn’t going to ask him to quit, because Stiles loves that blog and he doesn’t want to give it up. “What about it?” he asks carefully.
“I seem to remember,” Derek says, hands warm on Stiles’ back, “that someone asked if there was a werewolf you were interested in being knotted by. And you said there was a certain werewolf you knew, that you wanted, but not only that—”
“I had feelings for them,” Stiles finishes, lifting his head so he can look at Derek. “I got that question a while ago, but the feelings are still there.”
Derek smiles. “Funnily enough, it turns out I have feelings for a werewolf kink blogger,” he says, and he doesn’t get any farther than that before Stiles is kissing him.
(After they’re no longer tied, Stiles eagerly posts to the blog, letting everyone know that he now has a hot werewolf boyfriend.)