Archive of Our Own ^beta

Stiles Stilinski loved his life.

Joseph Hale stood leaning back against his camaro waiting for him, and Stiles grinned at the sight.

It was a very lovely sight. All that muscle and the hint of grey at his beard made for one very attractive man. The aviators and leather jacket certainly didn't hurt either.

"Stiles, no," Derek says. He already sounds defeated.

"Stiles, yes," he said before making his way down the stairs and into his daddy's arms.

"Hey, baby," Joseph purrs a breath away from his lips.

Stiles closes the gap briefly before slipping out of his grip and sliding into the passenger seat. Joseph chuckles and drives him to his apartment.

Stiles keeps a hand on his thigh the entire way.

***

Stiles drives to school the next day wearing a leather jacket that he does not own and everyone knows it.

Derek sighs dejectively when he sees him, but doesn't mention it on the way to class.

Stiles wears it all day, and he doesn't care how sweaty he gets in it. All the better, actually, because it means it'll be saturated in his scent by the time Joseph comes to his bed tonight. He doesn't tell Derek that part, but he knows because he isn't an idiot. Even if sometimes he wishes he was.

***

"Damn, baby, you don't know what you do to me."

Stiles gasps as he's shoved against his door, and throws his arms around his shoulders for purchase. Joseph grinds into him again and again until that sweet friction leaves Stiles hard and aching.

It's Joseph's turn to gasp when Stiles pushes him back in the same moment that he jumps up and wraps his legs around his waist. They fall back onto the bed and Stiles grins.

"Do you like my outfit, daddy?"

"I'd like it better on the floor."

Stiles places Joseph's hands on his thighs, just below his ass, where they squeeze and pull him even closer. He falls to his elbows on either side of his head, their noses brush.

Stiles slowly grinds his hips in the way that he knows drives Joseph insane. "What are you going to do about it then?"

Joseph doesn't answer. Too far gone to do more than rumble and shove his jeans down with just little enough force to not ruin them. Stiles toes his shoes off, lets his pants fall to the floor, and rids himself of his t-shirt, but he keeps the jacket on.

Joseph's eyes dilate even further, what little of the color left glowing faintly.

"Can't you imagine," he whispers into his ear, "your pretty jacket smelling of the both of us. Our most intimate moments in every thread."

Then Stiles is on his back and he has a very aroused werewolf overtop of him, breathing heavily, and staring like he can't decide what he wants to do next.

Stiles shivers as one claw lightly trails a path down his sternum. "A picture is worth a thousand words, you know."

Joseph freezes. Stiles knows he wants to. He knows it like he knows how much he wants him to do it.

"Go ahead, daddy. My phone is right over there."

Joseph scrambles to pick up his smartphone with clawed fingers for a few seconds, dropping it once in his haste. But then it's just Stiles laying there on his back while Joseph immortalizes the moment where he's vulnerable and debauched with the jacket on and nothing else. He leans back to get his full torso, and probably his thighs where they are straddling him as well. Stiles whines and tilts his head back, baring his throat. Joseph really does growl then.

"Wanna see you open for me. Will you open up for me, baby?"

Stiles nods, letting his jaw drop as he makes eye contact, spreading his legs as far as he's able with his thighs restricting his movement. Joseph settles in between his thighs, letting them spread out as far as they'll go.

Kissing a line from his knee to the base of his dick, Joseph says, "So beautiful. So perfect for me. What have I done to deserve you?"

Joseph bites a part of his thigh that is particularly sensitive, making Stiles shout, "That! That right there is why."

He proceeds to spend the next two minutes lavishing that spot with attention. Though, if you asked Stiles, he would have guessed it an hour.

Stiles is a sweaty, panting mess by the time he makes it to his dick only to bypass it for his hole instead. He tangles his fingers in his hair as his tongue makes its way inside and keeps going until it can't go any further, only to leave and fuck into him again and again. Stiles wraps his legs around Joseph's head and grinds into it, trying to get him deeper each time.

Joseph's hands start to slide up and down his sides. He squeezes his thighs, his ass, pushes his legs further up to fuck him on a different angle. It leaves him with his tailbone barely touching the mattress and Stiles not caring about the crick in his neck he'll get if he stays in that position for too long. He just keeps pushing closer and closer until come is decorating his stomach and he falls limp into Joseph's tender care.

Joseph sits up and pulls Stiles into his lap where he kisses lazily into his shoulder and neck. One hand rest on his lower back while the other works furiously on his cock. They both sigh as Joseph comes and settle into each other's arms to rest.

Joseph waits to clean them for the scent to ingrain itself into them and the jacket, but when he does it is with a gentle hand that has Stiles smiling dreamily into the ceiling.

"I love you, daddy."

"I love you too, baby."