1 - 20 of 193 Works in Power Bottom Derek Hale
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Derek Hale, the brooding senior and alpha captain of the frat, loses a bet during pledge week and becomes the house's "welcome wagon," taking cock after cock from his brothers. Weeks later, it's Stiles' turn—the hyperactive, hung pledge with a body built for sin. Derek teases and taunts, pushing Stiles to plunge his massive dick brutally into the cum-soaked walls that are Derek's hairy hole, leaving it wrecked and dripping.
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After months of excruciating tension, Derek and Stiles's "almost" game comes to a head. Derek, a master of teasing, has been pushing Stiles to the brink with predatory looks and filthy implications, leaving him "hard, flustered, and utterly wrecked". Tonight, with ancient bestiaries spread across Stiles's bedroom floor as a flimsy excuse for their proximity, Derek finally breaks the silence to twist the knife, taunting Stiles about his obvious desire
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Derek Hale, a werewolf and elite agent for the Supernatural Containment Agency, goes undercover as a stripper to catch a coven of witches responsible for a string of brutal murders. At a raunchy bachelor bash, he meets Stiles, a dangerously magnetic stranger, making the mission take a very different turn.
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late night restlessness leads to sleepy and messy sex.
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“Fifteen minutes,” Derek said, and the line went dead.
Stiles stared at his phone for a second before scrambling into action.
Or the one where it starts with a phone call, blunt and desperate. When Derek Hale tells you he needs to be fucked, you don't ask questions—you just clear your schedule and try to keep up.
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Washed-up punks Stiles and Derek are facing eviction one more time, with empty pockets and emptier prospects. After a desperate, tearful confession, Derek makes Stiles an offer he can't refuse: they start an OnlyFans
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“Use your words, Derek,” Stiles said, nipping at his earlobe. “Tell me how much you love my hands on you.”
“I love it,” Derek breathed, the confession torn from him. “I love your hands on me.”
“Yeah? You think Mom would love it?” Stiles’s voice was a wicked tease, his hands sliding down to spread Derek’s cheeks apart under the spray of water. “You think she’d be proud of her big boy, bent over in the shower for his baby brother? Taking my cock like it was made for him?”
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Derek collapsed forward slightly, bracing on the couch arm, but he didn’t let Stiles go. He looked down, eyes dark with satisfaction, and pulled Stiles up for a messy kiss, tasting himself on those lips. “Good boy,” he murmured, echoing his earlier praise. Stiles grinned, wiping his mouth, but there was a new respect in his eyes—mixed with that unquenchable mischief.
“You think that settles the score?” Stiles teased, voice hoarse.
Derek chuckled darkly, already feeling the stir of more. “Not even close.”
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“Fuck, Stiles,” Derek growled, voice thick with lust, his head tipping back as another wave of ecstasy rolled through him. “Harder.”
Stiles, ever the mirror to Derek’s depravity, let out a feral chuckle. “You want it harder, big guy? You got it.”
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It was late Friday afternoon, the campus nearly deserted as the weekend loomed. Derek sat in his office, grading papers, the silk panties rubbing against his skin beneath his slacks. The air conditioning hummed, doing little to cool the heat building inside him. A knock at the door snapped him out of his thoughts. He looked up to see Stiles leaning against the doorframe, his backpack slung over one shoulder, a mischievous glint in his eyes.
“Professor Hale,” Stiles said, his voice teasing, “got a minute? I could use some extra credit to boost my grade.”
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It was all Lydia's fault. It was she who gave him the Harry (the dildo that he was so crazy about) at the first place. The problem was he already reached the point where the toy was no longer enough to satisfy him. He was possessed by an uncontrollable desire to be fucked by the real Harry.
Good news was the guy was just a few blocks away from his apartment. The bad news? The guy was fucking straight.
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Derek, an ex-fireman, and Stiles, an ex-police officer, hated each other for ruining each other's lives. That ultimately cost them their friendship and beloved jobs. Now, they are forced to work together as they were cast as partners for a porno film.
Can they get over the past, or will they cost each other's jobs for the second time around?
Series
- Part 3 of The X-Rated Adventures of Stiles and Derek
- Part 8 of That Should be Stiles
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Summary: New day and new adventures of trying something new in the bedroom.
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Stiles Stilinski’s heart pounded like a drum in his chest, his breath hitching as he gazed down at the impossible sight before him. The lacrosse field was long abandoned, the locker room dim and quiet, save for the low, guttural moans filling the air. Coach Derek Hale—gruff, macho, and intimidatingly massive—was on his knees, his muscular thighs spread wide, his colossal, hairy bubble butt arched high and trembling with need. Stiles, the lean and wiry lacrosse star, stood behind him, his hands gripping Derek’s hips, barely believing the surreal reality unfolding.
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Stiles tiene más de un secreto en esta vida pero talvez con la llegada a un nuevo pueblo descubra mucho más de lo que esperaba, amor, amistad y el auto descubrimiento de su persona
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Stiles had been busy lately—overdue projects and schoolwork piling up—which meant they hadn’t had much time for sex recently. He was practically buzzing with anticipation at the thought of spending the night together.
“What’s taking so long?” Stiles huffed when Derek still hadn’t appeared.
“So impatient,” Derek snarked, his footsteps finally echoing from deeper inside the loft.
“Duh,” Stiles grinned. “I was promised something special tonight and—oh my god.”
Stiles’ jaw dropped.
Derek stepped into view, and Stiles was rendered completely speechless.
He was wearing a pink pleated mini skirt, which did absolutely nothing to hide the outline of his cock—
“Are you wearing panties?” Stiles gasped, slack-jawed as he stared. Derek’s cock, flaccid but still thick and heavy, was barely restrained by a pair of nearly see-through pink lace panties.
Then Derek lifted the hem of the skirt slightly, revealing a dainty little white bow at the waistband.
Series
- Part 2 of Requested/Prompted Stories
- Part 6 of Sweet dream or Beautiful nightmare.
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The Hale pack house was quiet, save for the low hum of the forest outside and the occasional creak of old wood. Derek Hale and Stiles Stilinski had been circling each other for months, their chemistry a live wire that sparked at every glance, every touch. Tonight, they’d finally given in, and the air was thick with lust, the kind that clung to the skin and made rational thought impossible. What neither of them expected was that the pack would choose this night to barge in, one by one, catching them in the throes of passion—and each time, Stiles and Derek would shift positions, undeterred, shameless in their desire.
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Derek Hale had always been a man of few words, his stoic demeanor a shield against the world. But when Stiles Stilinski turned eighteen, something shifted in the air of Beacon Hills. The lanky, sarcastic teenager had grown into himself, his sharp wit now paired with a confidence that made Derek's wolf stir. It started subtly—lingering glances during pack meetings, Derek's eyes tracing the curve of Stiles' jaw, the way his long fingers gestured wildly when he rambled. Derek tried to ignore it, but the pull was undeniable.
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After a grueling training session in the preserve, Alpha werewolf Derek Hale grows fed up with his betas, Stiles and Scott, constantly whining about their virginity despite their impressive physical attributes as werewolves. Scolding them for their lack of confidence, Derek takes charge, offering his own body—as a means for them to lose their virginity under his strict guidance.
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Stiles was halfway to his Jeep when Derek stepped out of the shadows, his boots crunching on the gravel. Stiles froze, his keys dangling from his fingers, his amber eyes widening for a split second before narrowing.
“Derek,” he said, voice clipped. “What’s up?”
“We need to talk.” Derek’s tone was low, steady, but there was an edge to it—a predator’s patience wearing thin.
Stiles shifted, glancing toward the field like he could bolt. “Yeah, uh, now’s not great. I’ve got—”
“No.” Derek stepped closer, his broad frame cutting off Stiles’s escape. “You’ve been dodging me for months. We’re doing this now.”