Title: Ink
Series: Full Moon Fic(let)
Ratings: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Fandom(s): Teen Wolf
Category: M/M
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Characters: Stiles Stilinski, Derek Hale
Tags: Full Moon Ficlet, One-Shot, First Time, Pain Kink, BDSM
Summary: Stiles needs to get a new tattoo. He had been dreaming about this one. His issue was that he had issues with tattoos, and it wasn’t the whole pain thing. It was the pain thing; it was just that he didn’t react normally to it.
Word Count: 3,732
Year: Future
Spoilers: Everything
Notes: One-Shot for Full Moon Ficlet. No more will be written for this.
Beta: Grammarly

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Stiles looked at the sign for the tattoo and piercing shop. It was the one with the best ratings in all of Beacon Hills, but given there were only three, it wasn’t the best thing in the world. It was clean, and from what Stiles had found when he had looked it up at work, there had never been paramedics or cops called there for any reason. Stiles debated this. He had the next four days off as all of the deputies were given that on rotation every few months. It meant a hellish week before and week after, but it was worth it.

“Scared?” a woman asked as she stepped up beside Stiles.

“Not really, not at least of getting it. More like what happens when I’m getting it.” Stiles looked to the side at her, and he frowned. He knew her. He wasn’t sure where he knew her, but he did. He hadn’t been home for a long time, other than quick visits with his father. Then a huge break in a case had Stiles going with his team to New York City; only when Stiles left New York City, he was injured enough that he couldn’t stay a field agent with the FBI. He passed the requirements for becoming a deputy with the Sheriff’s department, though, top of the class thankfully so that no one could say that his father rolled him through even though his father had nothing to do with the training academy.

Three other counties tried to snag him, but it hadn’t worked. He knew he wanted to stay in Beacon Hills. It’s where his father was, and that was all that mattered to him.

Now he was six months into his job, and he wanted another tattoo. He had a few on his body, gotten in DC where he had been before. There it had been a lot easier to hide his reaction to getting a tattoo. This new one was one that he wanted around the scar on his back. He had the size of it down, and he had designed the tattoo on his own.

“So, are you coming in?” the woman asked, and she cocked an eyebrow at him. It was that move that had Stiles figuring out who she was. Cora Hale. They had been in the same grade for a while before Stiles had jumped back where he belonged after getting caught up in junior high after being held back a year after the death of his mother.

“Sure.” Stiles followed her into the shop. He had an appointment an hour from then, but he hadn’t been sure how long it would take for him to get up the gumption to go inside. He was working with the main tattoo artist as they were the best at Stiles’ kind of design.

Triskele was the strangest name for a tattoo shop, but at least it didn’t sound like a meat market like the other two did.

“DEREK! Your four o’clock is here!” Cora yelled.

Stiles stopped just after the door shut behind him. Derek? Derek, as in Derek Hale? Stiles was mentally starting to think about doing anything but being there.

Derek came out of the back before Stiles could slip out. Derek stared at him.

“Is there anyone else?” Stiles asked.

“Not for what you want,” Derek said.

“How do you know I’m your 4 o’clock?”

“Erica recognized your voice on the phone,” Cora said.

“What kind of issue is there?” Derek asked.

Stiles looked at Cora, and he saw Erica Reyes peeking in from the back area. It looked pretty much like they were all hanging out just to find out what kind of issue he said he needed to discuss in private with the person who was inking him.

“Out,” Derek said.

“Derek,” Cora said.

“He looks like he’s about to pass out. We have never had the cops called here or paramedics; I am not having it happen just because you all want to watch him.”

“He’s prone to panic attacks,” Erica said.

“I remember them.”

It took a few minutes for the staff to clear out. Stiles realized that it was all people he knew from high school. Vernon Boyd and Isaac Lahey were the last out, with Cora and Erica leaving under Derek’s watchful eye.

“You don’t need them here?”

“No, not if the thought of them being here sends your heart racing.”

Stiles was about to refute that when he saw how Derek’s eyes tracked down to Stiles’ neck and back up. They had always had a few things about them, all of the Hales, that had never made sense to Stiles. He had seen enough stuff over the years with the FBI and then even now in Beacon County that he knew that the rumors were not rumors. There was more than just humans out there. He had met a few Werewolves out there, and while he knew they were real, they hadn’t been people that he knew. He hadn’t brought up that he knew with his father yet, either. It wasn’t something he wanted to deal with yet, knowing that his father had known for all of Stiles’ life about the supernatural.

It also fucked everything. A human could ignore Stiles’ erection from the pain of the inking. Derek, as a Werewolf, could not.

“I think I need to cancel,” Stiles said.


“My issue is something I think I need a human tattoo artist with, not a Werewolf.”

“I see, and why is that?”

“Personal. I know the deposit was non-refundable. Just boot up the thing so I can leave a tip on the card, and then I’ll get out of here.”

“Stiles,” Derek said.

“Ugh, there is a reason I just used my initials and shit and dropped the money off otherwise.”

“I smelled your scent on it. You smell almost exactly like you did in high school, outside of the hormones.”

Stiles shook his head and sighed. He didn’t have enough cash to cover what he would have in a tip, or he could just toss it at Derek and leave. Cora and Stiles had been friends in grade school, but high school had changed that, and they had drifted apart. He hadn’t seen her since graduation. But the one thing his mind hadn’t forgotten was his crush on Derek, it seemed.

“You know I have people who faint at the sight of blood who come in with more spine than you have.”

“Yeah, well, they don’t get erections from pain.”

Derek’s eyes widened.

“Are you into S&M?” Derek asked.

“Sometimes, but I only found out about my pain kink because of a tattoo. It’s pretty strong, but I’ve been putting this off since I got here.”

“Let’s go into the back and talk.” Derek waved for Stiles to head back.

Stiles felt like it was the worst thing he could do, but he did it. He followed Derek into a room that had an actual door instead of a curtain.

“This is for the ones where people get them on their breasts or their groin.” Derek pulled a chair out, and he flipped it around to sit with his legs spread around the back. His jeans were tight on his legs, and Stiles couldn’t help but look at the bulge in his pants. Stiles really hoped that he was a shower or he was already erect.

“Which I do not want.”

“No, but I think that maybe a little privacy would be the best thing for you. So talk to me about this.”

“I have no clue where to start. I was hoping for someone I didn’t know. I looked at the safety, but you don’t have the staff on the site. I didn’t realize that you were you.”

“And?” Derek asked.

“It’s not something I’m willing to do when it’s someone that I know.”

“Have you orgasmed from a tattoo?”

“No.” Stiles looked at his hands, and he didn’t want to look up at Derek.

“Stiles,” Derek said.

Stiles shook his head.

“You will look at me, Mieczyslaw,” Derek said.

Stiles looked up at him, shocked to hear his given name fall from Derek’s lips. Few people had ever heard it, and even less had ever been able to say it.

“What are you looking for here?”

“A tattoo.”

“Don’t lie.”

Stiles watched Derek’s face as Derek looked at him. Derek was sitting still, but his body just put off a lot of energy that made Stiles feel safe, and he wasn’t sure what to think about it.



Stiles had never had anyone ask him why he wanted pain. He was, of course, understanding of what his dynamic was. He hadn’t fully explored it, but then he hadn’t felt safe to do it away from Beacon Hills, where he didn’t have a safety net like he would want. Yet, at home, he hadn’t found anyone he trusted for this. He used to get a cab to a tattoo shop, get the tattoo, leave and just soak in subspace. He knew it wasn’t good. He knew it wasn’t safe, but it had been the only thing.

“You know why.”

“Say it.”

“I need it.”

“Okay. So, let’s talk about a scene.”

Stiles listened as Derek laid out a simple scene that only started once the main part of the tattoo was laid down.

“How would that work?”

“The tattoo that you sent, the design is going to take hours to do. We can do it all in one go, or we can do it in five simple sets.”

“How did you know?” Stiles couldn’t look away from Derek anymore.

“There was a way you were talking. I heard you. I was paying attention to drawing out something that was being used for a tattoo the next day. I have learned a little about the way that people sound. I trained in New York City. I have seen my fair share of those who do what you are doing.”

“I don’t trust well.”

“I understand why. I know everything about what happened to you in high school and why you ran as far as you could get until you felt like it was safe to come home.”

Stiles knew that the Hales knew a lot of what happened, but he had hoped that maybe the siblings hadn’t heard about it.

“I’m still not sure it’s safe for me to be here, but I’ve committed.”

“And we can work on things on that.”

“You are a Dom?” Stiles asked.

“I am. I usually go to San Francisco to find someone to submit to me for the night.”

“And what would you get out of this?”

“Well, I thought that we could talk. If we don’t mesh by the time that you are dipping into subspace, I’ll verbally direct you to get off, drop you off at home, make sure you aren’t going to go into subdrop, and then leave.”

“Or you can stay,” Stiles said.

“I could if we talked about that long beforehand. Is this something that you want?”

Stiles nodded his head.

“Okay, then let’s talk about a few things because I think that something you need to know is that I live above the shop on the three floors there.”

“So we could go up there?”

“Do you want sex?”

“I need it. I’ve not been able to enjoy getting off for a while. I’ve tried normal sex, and I think I needed that added edge.”

“Okay then. Let’s talk.”

Stiles gripped the edge of the seat he was lying against. He was sitting on it but leaned down to where Derek could tattoo his back. Derek was on the last little bit that he was going to be doing today. Stiles gripped the edges even harder. The bite of the tattoo gun was perfect, and he was so fucking close to slipping fully into subspace. The feel of Derek’s free hand pressing onto him just ground him in a way he had never felt before. It was the best feeling in the world.

He pressed his forehead into the headrest and moaned when Derek picked up the gun from his skin and started to work on one of the last bits on the edge of the design. It had been one of the first areas that Derek had worked in, and the pain had started to become too much.

“Done,” Derek said as he pulled away from Stiles.

Before Stiles could say a word about needing Derek touching him, the hand was back as well as the other, and the first was swiping at the skin on his back, cleaning the tattoo, and then spreading stuff over it. Next, he covered it with Dermshield. His other hand didn’t leave his side as it ground him.

“Good to go, Stiles,” Derek said.

Stiles nodded his head. He wasn’t non-verbal yet, but he was pretty close to it. Derek had kept on with the tattoo for a little longer than Stiles thought, and he was already so fucking close.

Derek settled in behind Stiles and pulled him back enough to be pressed to Derek’s chest. Derek had stripped down at some point while cleaning up Stiles. Stiles could feel the skin on skin for the upper half, but Derek was still in his jeans on his lower half. Stiles was only wearing his boxers, his clothes long lost as he got sweaty from the pain and pleasure.

“You smell like a feast,” Derek said before he started to dig his fingers into Stiles’ thighs. “High as a kite on endorphins from the pain and smelling like I could just bend you over and fuck you hard and fast.”

“Please,” Stiles said.

“Up,” Derek said, and he slipped away from Stiles. He stayed right there at the side, and when Stiles stood up, Derek tugged him in. “Let’s get upstairs, and I’ll see what you look like spread on my bed.”

“Yes,” Stiles said.

Derek walked them up to the bedroom on the third floor of the building. Stiles didn’t pay much attention to anything other than the feel of Derek’s hands on him.

The bedroom that Stiles was led to was soft and made Stiles feel like he was coming home. He turned when Derek’s hands started to turn him, and then he sat down when there was pressure on his shoulders. Derek swiped his thumb across Stiles’ lower lip before pressing it at the seam of his lips. Stiles sucked the digit in, and he wrapped his tongue around it.

“You are utterly perfect, Stiles. Get naked and lie back.” Derek stepped back, and he worked on opening his jeans.

Stiles pouted at having Derek so far away, but he did as he was told. The contract they had signed had been simple but more than enough for the night. Stiles felt more right than he had in a long time.

“Color?” Derek asked as he kneed onto the bed and waited for Stiles to answer him.


“Good.” Derek grabbed the lube and a condom. “You’ve passed the tests you told me, and so, I’m going to fuck you. You don’t come until I tell you that you can.”

Stiles nodded his head, and he melted into the bed as soon as Derek slipped fingers into him. The prep was quick but thorough. Derek’s cock looked slightly on the wrong side of too big, but Stiles couldn’t wait to have it inside of him.


Stiles nodded his head.

“Look at me, Stiles.”

Stiles focused his eyes on Derek, and whatever Derek was looking for, he found as the next instance, he was sliding home inside Stiles. The stretch was there, but it was mostly just feeling full and like Derek was owning every single piece of him.

Derek’s teeth closed over Stiles’ shoulder and held on as he pushed that last little bit inside of him. There was nothing for what Stiles was feeling. He was riding high but also feeling grounded to the earth by the cock inside of him. He wanted to scream to the world that he was owned but was scared of it just being in this moment. He pushed the thoughts away and let himself feel the cock splitting him open and fucking him like he had been bought.

Letting go of Stiles’ shoulder, Derek braced himself up on a hand, looking down at Stiles. He gripped Stiles’ ribs from the side, and before Stiles could even think about what he was doing, he felt the little pinprick of claws. He rocked down a little onto Derek more as the pain from the claws filled his brain. It was just barely there, but it was there, and Derek was so in control that Stiles knew there would not be blood there.

The pain left him, and all he felt was pleasure. Everything started to go fuzzy, and Stiles knew that he was a few good thrusts from subspace. Pain could never get him there all the way; he needed that person above him, inside of him, the domination that came with good sex and a good Dom to get there. It was why it was never good enough to just have the tattoo inked on him.

“Are you close?”

Stiles nodded his head.

“Good. Come.”

Derek thrust inside of Stiles hard enough that Stiles’ teeth clicked from the force of it. Stiles came, gripping Derek tightly, holding on for all he was worth as he rode out the orgasm. He was pretty sure he would have left bruises if it wasn’t for the fact of Derek’s healing. Derek fucked Stiles through his orgasm and beyond until Stiles was just about to safeword out, and he stopped, orgasm making him shudder as he stayed above Stiles.

Stiles let himself just float there in subspace, his body singing with happiness and his brain mush. Derek had told him what would happen after sex if they went that far, but Stiles didn’t care at the moment. He just wanted to sit here for as long as he could. He could feel things happening to his body, but none of it was cutting his rush, so he was perfectly happy to stay like he was.

“Come back to me,” Derek said.

“No,” Stiles said. He whimpered at the thought. He let himself be rolled to his side, taking the pressure off his tattoo.

“Okay, a little longer, Stiles. Then I’m pulling you out.”

Stiles felt the bed dip, and then Derek was wrapped around him. It pushed Stiles down a little more. He let himself feel safe and happy for as long as he could.

Time passed, and it was the not-good ache o,f his tattoo that was pulling him out. He knew that the laying on his back would bite him in the ass, but he had wanted it. He felt better than he had in a long time, though, and knew that he needed to find a good outlet for his needs. He needed to find someone he could be with that could help him with this when it was needed.

“There you are,” Derek said, still wrapped around him from behind.

“Hmm, I don’t want to be, but my shoulder aches,” Stiles said. He licked at the roof of his mouth and found no moisture in his mouth.

“Let’s get you up and get some Gatorade in you. I have snacks as well, or things that can work as snacks.”

“No clothes. I need-” Stiles cut himself off, pissed that he had said that.

“We can cuddle naked for as long as you want. I have Gatorade up here.”

Stiles let Derek pick him up and settle him into his lap as the bottle of Gatorade was handed over with a straw sticking out. Stiles let Derek control the bottle and make him take smaller sips than Stiles normally would. It felt good. He felt cared for. It had been a long time since he had felt this good.

“I don’t think I want to let you go,” Derek said.

Stiles shook his head. “I don’t think I want to be let go.”

“Well, then I guess we will talk about this when we are both mentally even.”

“I want to sleep,” Stiles said.

“Then sleep, and we will talk later. Everyone knows you are fine, right?”

“Hmm, I let my friend know and that I won’t be talking to them again, but if they haven’t heard from me in the morning, to tell someone.”

“No check-in tonight?” Derek asked.

“Nah, I usually don’t remember, and things got weird. You can text him if you want. It’s under Jackasshole in my contacts. The phone’s unlocked.”

“Strange for a cop to have.”

“Well, just in case you wanted to call someone who wasn’t 9-1-1 if something happened.”

“I’ll text him that it’s me you are with and how to get up into my place. What’s his name?”

“Hmm,” Stiles said. He felt the bed move and the sound of his phone making noise. He really didn’t care about who it was that Derek wanted to talk to.

“Ah, Jackson. Well, that makes it easier. He knows how safe I am.”

The sound of a different phone unlocking had Stiles looking to the side. Derek was on his phone, tapping away one-handed as his other stayed wrapped around him.

“There all checked in. How did you not tell him who you were with?”

“Didn’t want to out your kink.”

“Ah, Jackson knows well what my kink is. I’m shocked he hasn’t wanted to hook us up.”

“He tried; he didn’t say it was you but that he knew a good Dom here in town. Kind of stupid with what I know now.”

“You really are out of it. Let’s get you down and asleep. We can talk in the morning.”

Stiles didn’t even try and help. He was too gone, and he really wanted to stay there. This might not be a forever thing as that would mean meshing more than just in bed, but he was willing to try. Derek was a good man; he had always been, even when he was an asshole years ago.

“Sleep, Stiles. I’ve got you, and you are perfectly safe.”

The End

I write fanfiction for fun. It’s a hobby and a stress relief. I refuse to stress over my writing. What you see is what you get. Errors, plot holes, and all. Thank you for reading my story!

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