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Very few things can make Stiles’s mind go quiet. Usually, his mind is a whirling tornado of thoughts, working out problems, making observations, fixating on issues, consuming as much knowledge as possible…even when he tries to rest, when he tries to slow down, his brain won’t stop. Stiles is passion and energy and sarcasm and wit in a flailing, hyperactive body. Between his anxiety, ADHD, and PTSD, Stiles never got a break.
Until, one day, he did.
Until he found someone who could give him the freedom and safety to let go for just a little while, shrugging off the pressures and expectations and burdens he carried on his shoulders. Until he learned that in the right situation, with the right person, he could let it all slip away, for just a little while.
Now, Stiles wasn’t unfamiliar with the concept of BDSM, the dynamics of dominance and submission and the possibilities that lay therein, but he’d never expected to find someone he trusted enough to experience it for himself. He’d certainly never expected to find it at the feet of a hunter who once held a gun to his head.
But then Argent became Chris, and Chris became the one person Stiles trusted above all others. Chris became the one person Stiles not only loved with his whole heart, but trusted with his complete submission.
Of course, Stiles didn’t just lose his personality around Chris; he’d never be one to just roll over and give full and complete submission to anyone without question. No, Stiles — to absolutely no one’s surprise — is a brat. He enjoys teasing, pushing boundaries, testing Chris’s limits and indulging in a little disobedience once in a while.
But sometimes, Stiles needs to give it all up, to hand over the reins and let someone else make the decisions. Sometimes he just needs that quiet.
This is one of those times.
The pack’s territory is experiencing an uncommonly long period of peace, and while the others have found relief in this, Stiles found himself getting more and more wound up by the day. He doesn’t trust it. The longer they go without facing a threat, the more he expects one to be right around the corner. His days are unusually free, with no emergencies or projects to keep him occupied. It leaves him restless, unmoored. He needs something to do, somewhere to direct his energy. He needs to prepare for whatever is coming, to figure out the next threat.
Somehow, without Stiles having to say a word, Chris recognised what was happening and knew exactly what he needed.
When Chris got out of bed that morning to prepare for a long day of catching up on paperwork, as he does at the end of every month, he left Stiles with strict instructions: after breakfast, Stiles was to get himself stretched and ready without touching his cock or coming, slip in his favourite butt plug, and meet Chris in his office completely naked. Part of Stiles wanted to see what Chris would do if he disobeyed any of his instructions, but he’s too curious to see what Chris has planned.
He’s not disappointed.
When Stiles walks into Chris’s home office, plug in and completely naked, Chris looks up from his paperwork and leans back in his chair, crooking a finger at Stiles to summon him closer. As if Stiles ever needs prompting to get closer to Chris.
Rounding the desk, Stiles notes that Chris has his chair pushed out from under the desk, where half the space is taken up by a floor pillow and Stiles’s favourite reusable water bottle is tucked to the side. Stiles’s heart rate speeds up as he starts to suspect what Chris has planned for them.
“Come here, baby,” Chris says, grabbing Stiles’s hips when he’s close enough and steering him to stand in front of him. His thumbs rub gentle circles over Stiles’s hipbones as he looks up at Stiles with a soft but serious expression. His voice is firm when he speaks, expecting obedience.
“Here’s how today is going to go. I’m going to spend my day doing paperwork, and you are going to spend the day under my desk keeping my cock warm with your mouth. You will stay under the desk at all times, unless I say otherwise. If you need something, you tap my leg and wait for me to acknowledge you before speaking. If you need a break you can have three minutes, but you’ll stay under my desk at my feet where you belong. You will stay silent and not disrupt my work. If you disrupt my work, you will be punished. You can suckle, but your job is to keep me warm, not to get me hard. If you attempt to get me off before my work is done, you will be punished. If you attempt to touch yourself, you will be punished. If you need to stop you can safeword out; otherwise, you’ll be Daddy’s little cockwarmer for the day and do as he says. If you can manage that, you’ll be rewarded. Is that clear, baby?”
“Yes, Daddy,” Stiles breathes, mouth already watering at the thought of wrapping it around his Daddy’s cock. Chris’s firm tone and clear instructions, the knowledge that he’s going to spend the day on his knees with one clear job to do and someone else making all the decisions, already has his mind slowing down. He can feel his body relaxing, the calm settling over him like a heavy, warm blanket.
His Daddy can handle things. Stiles doesn’t need to think.
“Good,” Chris strokes his thumb over Stiles’s skin once more before sitting back. “Get comfortable then, on your knees under the desk.”
Stiles follows his instructions, crawling under the desk and adjusting the pillow so that he’s tucked far enough back that Chris can pull his chair in after him. The space feels small and dark with Chris’s legs and part of the chair under the desk and blocking his way out. Stiles likes it, likes the cozy feeling of being tucked away safely at his Daddy’s feet.
Chris leans back enough that he can see Stiles under the desk as he reaches down to open his jeans. He didn’t wear any underwear in anticipation of today’s plan, so it’s easy to slip his cock out and move the top of the jeans out of the way.
“Come here, baby,” Chris instructs, holding his cock out for Stiles. Stiles makes sure the pillow is well-positioned between Chris’s knees before leaning into the V of his thighs, opening his mouth to take his Daddy’s cock. “That’s it, be a good boy and take Daddy’s cock.” Chris’s voice slips into that low, gravelly tone that slides over Stiles like water, making him shiver.
Chris feeds his cock into Stiles’s mouth slowly, moving his hand out of the way when Stiles’s lips bump into them. Stiles savors the weight and taste on his tongue, taking it all the way to the base and then pulling back just enough that he can still breathe around it. Since the cock is still soft, Stiles can comfortably fit almost all of it in his mouth, though the girth of the cock still makes his mouth feel pleasantly full. In the back of his hazy mind, Stiles thinks that he must have got himself off before Stiles came in so that he wouldn’t get hard.
Stiles suckles on it absently as he settles in, resting his cheek on the top of his Daddy’s thigh and letting his eyes flutter closed. He hums a little in pleasure when he feels fingers stroke through his hair, and feels more and more of the world fall away. His awareness is narrowed down to simple sensations: the taste and weight of the cock on his tongue, the scratchy feel of the denim beneath his cheek, the musky scent of his Daddy’s natural odor beneath the smell of his bodywash, the soothing feeling of fingers running through his hair and petting over his head.
“Look at you, you look so pretty with a cock in your mouth,” Chris croons. “That mouth of yours was made to suck cock.” A warm, happy glow at the praise starts low in Stiles’s belly and spreads throughout his body, making him squirm a little before settling again.
Cradled in the safe V of his Daddy’s thighs, Stiles lets himself sink fully into the haze.
—
Stiles spends hours basking in that haze, floating in the feelings of warmth and utter contentment wrapped around him. He’s not aware of anything around him until soft tapping on his cheek brings him lazily back to the surface. He blinks his eyes slowly and tilts his head enough to gaze dazedly at his Daddy’s face. His Daddy is peering down at him with a soft smile, stroking his fingers down the side of Stiles’s face.
“It’s lunch time, baby,” Daddy says softly. “Daddy needs to eat, and so do you.”
The words penetrate slowly, and Stiles pouts when he realises that means he’s going to have to let go of his Daddy’s cock. His lips tighten around it reflexively.
Chris chuckles gently and cups his cheek before slowly easing him off his cock. Stiles blinks as he settles a little more back into his body, back into the moment, though the warm, heavy feeling remains. Stiles works his mouth a little to get rid of the stiffness in his jaw and wipes away the drool that had pooled at one corner of his mouth and dripped down his chin. Chris grabs his water bottle and holds it out, making sure Stiles takes a few careful sips.
“Stay there, baby,” Chris says, before pushing his chair back and standing up. “I’ll be right back.”
When Chris leaves the room, Stiles momentarily panics at the thought that he’s been left there as Chris goes to eat his lunch. Then he reminds himself that he knows better than to think that and that Chris had just said he’d be right back. Chris knows Stiles hates to be left alone when he’s still feeling spacey and not fully back down to earth.
Chris returns with a full plate that he must have prepared that morning while Stiles was in bed. It looks like a snack plate full of food that can be eaten with their fingers, like lunch meats, cheeses, crackers, fruit, and vegetables. He’s proven correct when Chris settles back into his chair and proceeds to hand feed Stiles his entire lunch between bites of his own.
When Stiles bites into the last strawberry that Chris holds out for him, juice dribbles down Chris’s fingers. Stiles can’t help himself, leaning forward to suck the juice-covered fingers into his mouth, licking them clean and sucking on them for good measure. Chris’s eyes are dark when he looks up through his eyelashes.
“So eager, aren’t you?” Chris murmurs, voice heavy and dark with the weight of his desire. “Why don’t you put that mouth back where it belongs now while I finish up my work?”
His cock is hard this time when he holds it out for Stiles, and Stiles laps at it a few times with his tongue before enveloping it in the wet heat of his mouth. He strokes the flat of his tongue along the underside and sucks lightly, letting out a pleased hum.
At Chris’s warning tap on the back of his head, Stiles settles back down, resisting the temptation to lave his tongue around the head. Now that he’s hard, Stiles can only fit his mouth a little more than halfway down the shaft before it becomes less comfortable and he has to stop so he can breathe.
Things change after that. Stiles doesn’t quite go back to that state where he’s unaware of the world around him, but his body remains lax and his mind fuzzy. He’s grounded enough to enjoy Chris’s cock in his mouth more actively this time, suckling occasionally and sneaking in some small strokes of his tongue when he can. He’s also acutely aware of the gentle tug of the butt plug shifting every time he moves.
Chris spends most of the time half-hard, though he pays no attention to it as he works. Stiles has to sit on his hands several times to stop them from drifting where they aren’t supposed to.
The biggest difference after lunch, however, is from Chris’s work. While he’d spent the morning doing paperwork in silence, now there are emails he has to deal with and phone calls he has to make. The rule about staying silent makes more sense now, as Chris talks calmly on the phone with business associates who have no idea that Chris has a naked boy beneath his desk at that very moment with his cock in his mouth. It drives Stiles crazy, arousal coursing through him as heat pools in his belly, and he struggles not to moan.
Saliva pools in his mouth and drips down the length of Chris’s cock, soaking into the pubic hair at its base. It makes Stiles swallow convulsively around the cock in his mouth. He knows the situation is riling Chris up just as much as him, considering the rock hard erection in Stiles’s mouth.
Stiles doesn’t even realise that his sucking has become more insistent and he’s starting to shift around on his knees until a hand comes down to grip the back of his head, holding him still as Chris finishes his phone call. Chris gives a warning rumble once he’s hung up, adding a tight squeeze to the back of his neck like he would scruff a disobedient kitten before returning back to work.
It’s when Chris accepts a video call at the end of his work day that Stiles breaks.
Knowing that Chris is actively on camera talking to someone has Stiles near stupid with need. Desperate to obey the rules and already sitting up on his knees, Stiles squeezes his hands tightly between his thighs and calves, trapping them so that he can’t give in to the temptation to stroke his own achingly hard cock.
The move up to his knees sends him further onto Chris’s cock, until it’s hitting the back of his throat and Stiles is bobbing his head before he realises what he’s doing. He very nearly gags in his enthusiasm, and the knowledge that a video call makes it more important than ever that he stay absolutely silent doesn’t help matters at all.
The hand comes back to clamp tightly in his hair and Stiles freezes, swallowing once reflexively as he realises what he’s doing. Still, he’s so horny and riled up that he only lasts a few minutes before his hips are moving, seeking relief. All Stiles’s desperate mind knows is that he’s not breaking any rules if he keeps his hands out of it and his head completely still. Feeling his own cock bump into something rough, Stiles chases the sensation, pressing into it for any kind of relief.
Before he knows it, Stiles is rubbing his cock up and down Chris’s shin, practically humping his leg like a dog in heat. The pressure against his cock feels too good to care, and each time he rocks back on his heels, the plug shifts in his ass too.
The moment the video call ends and Chris’s laptop is closed, Chris is pushing his chair back and hauling Stiles up onto his lap with a growl.
Stiles jerks and gasps as he finds himself straddling Chris’s thigh. He grips Chris’s shoulder tight as his hips spasm at the unexpected onslaught of sensations — the rough denim against the sensitive skin of his ass, the extra friction and pressure along the entire length of his cock and balls, and the sudden jolting of the plug that causes it to glance off his prostate.
Chris takes advantage of his slack mouth to pull him into a filthy kiss, keeping a firm hand around the base of Stiles’s skull and nape of his neck. Stiles melts into it with a long, drawn out moan, rocking his hips to chase more of the delicious sensations.
“Is my baby boy so desperate that he’s going to get off on my thigh?” Chris growls against tender, spit-slick lips. His voice has descended into that deep, gravelly tone that never fails to make Stiles feel like he’s going to melt into a puddle at his feet, making Stiles rock his hips faster, onto his cock and back onto the plug. His hands on Chris’s shoulders are the only thing preventing him from reaching down and taking himself in hand.
“Please, Daddy,” Stiles whines, writhing on his lap. Chris hums and wraps an arm around his back.
“I suppose you have been good for me all day,” Chris muses against his lips. “You didn’t break until the end. I think we both deserve a reward.”
That’s all the warning Stiles gets before Chris is standing and pinning Stiles face down over his desk. Stiles nearly sobs with the relief that he’s finally going to get what he wants, his legs automatically spreading to allow Chris more space between them.
Chris doesn’t waste any time, giving the plug a few wiggles before pulling it out entirely and testing the stretch with his fingers. Once he’s confirmed that Stiles is still sufficiently stretched and slick from that morning, Chris lines up his cock and plunges in with one hard thrust. The hard push knocks the breath out of Stiles, leaving him gasping and scrambling for a grip on the far edge of the desk to brace himself against the near punishing pace that Chris immediately sets.
They’ve been building up to this all day, and Stiles got his soft and floaty time that morning. This is different, this is fast and hard and Chris using his body for his own pleasure as punishment for breaking his rules at the very end during the video call. All Stiles can do is hang on and enjoy the ride, sobbing out as each hard thrust hammers ruthlessly against his prostate. Chris’s hands grip his hips tight enough to bruise, his growing ass sore as Chris’s hips slam into him again and again.
Thinking about how they must look, Stiles naked and desperate and messy, bent helplessly over Chris’s desk as Chris pounds into him from behind, still fully dressed aside from his open jeans, sends Stiles crashing over the edge before he even realises he’s close. He shakes and shudders and cries as he falls apart over Chris’s desk. And through it all, Chris continues his merciless pace.
Stiles goes limp, resting his cheek on the wood below him and not caring about the way Chris continues to rock his body across the surface with each grunting thrust. He breathes hard as his hole flutters and clenches around Chris’s cock, until finally Chris pushes into him one last time and holds them tight together, spilling into him with a near-primal growl.
For a few minutes the only sound in the room is their heavy breathing. Chris’s body slowly loses its tension until he’s slipping out of Stiles’s body and falling back into his chair. He keeps Stiles in place with a hand on his lower back just long enough to gently press the plug back through his abused rim to prevent a mess. Then he gives Stiles’s hips a light tug and pulls him into his lap.
Stiles feels like a boneless heap and doesn’t think he could move his muscles if he tried, so he lets Chris maneuver them as he pleases. Stiles ends up cradled sideways against his chest, one arm around his back and the other around his bent knees. Stiles slumps to the side and rests his head on Chris’s shoulder, closing his eyes with a sigh.
“You doing okay, baby?” Chris checks in, nosing at his cheek as his hand strokes up and down Stiles’s side. Stiles lets out an affirmative hum and nuzzles deeper into his shoulder. “It wasn’t too much?” Stiles shakes his head, causing it to roll over Chris’s collarbone. Stiles can feel Chris’s smile as he presses it into his temple.
They sit in silence for a few minutes, Chris holding Stiles for as long as he needs as he slowly eases him back down to earth and into his body. As his heart rate slows and Chris continues to run grounding, soft hands over his body, Stiles slowly comes back.
“Thank you, for today,” Stiles finally murmurs. “I needed that.”
“Any time, baby.” Chris presses a kiss to the top of his head. “Any time.”