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Are you wherever you're living?
I'm never typing that again. When I'm not snowed in you're going to show me where you're living so I can call it what it is. A house or a subway station. Everything's fine. I did hit someone with my car while driving back to the house. He's fine, in one piece, not hurt and also. Stuck. With us.
I'm never typing that again. When I'm not snowed in you're going to show me where you're living so I can call it what it is. A house or a subway station. Everything's fine. I did hit someone with my car while driving back to the house. He's fine, in one piece, not hurt and also. Stuck. With us.
treehouse needs new propane tanks
in the interest of not jerking off in a cold shower, can u do something about that
in the interest of not jerking off in a cold shower, can u do something about that
found ur number on the bathroom stall
u promise 2 be a good time?
u promise 2 be a good time?
i need your help clearing some shit off my phone
trying to save it to the computer the way i used to isn't working right
says certain files aren't copied and i wanna make sure they are
trying to save it to the computer the way i used to isn't working right
says certain files aren't copied and i wanna make sure they are
if a new tattoo mark thing showed up on my body should I expect it to be permanent
so anyway what are the possible consequences for missing your quota
[Following the ship incident and what followed, Tate tentatively sends a text without knowing that for three whole days he's been AWOL on account of drowning and only just washing ashore early that very morning.]
derek? r u around
derek? r u around
so uh
you heard about the apparent serial killer in the down?
you heard about the apparent serial killer in the down?
i ask a question and you give a direct answer
y/n
y/n
[ Reggie leaves Derek's gift in a wrapped box outside his door (or maybe even in his car, if he'd be able to get into it), with a card: ]
:fill(white):sharpen(0.5,0.5,true)/https://www.oliverbonas.com/static/media/catalog/product/1/2/1293852_1.jpg){kind=link}
- Couldn't afford a whole jacket but these seemed up your alley. Hope you like em.
Merry xmas from your β
- Reg
belated birthday gift to you, since shipping this shit took so long but pick one:
leather or rope
leather or rope
[It's a small thing but, before he embarks on the rest of his Valentine's Day plans, Noah tucks a card into the frame of Derek's front door. More of a note, really, on a single sheet of folded paper. He feels a little silly about it, but... he just wants Derek to know that he's thinking of him even though they're not spending the day together. And a note is more romantic than a text? Or something. He vanishes before he can second-guess himself and take it back.
The outside of the note is decorated with some doodles that loosely correspond to things they've talked about and the inside contains several scribbled-out valentine puns (mostly illegible) and a short message in Noah's messy handwriting:]
Let's go out soon
♥ NC
The outside of the note is decorated with some doodles that loosely correspond to things they've talked about and the inside contains several scribbled-out valentine puns (mostly illegible) and a short message in Noah's messy handwriting:]
Let's go out soon
♥ NC
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[ ATTACHED is a video file, sent without any accompanying message, simply titled 📎INTOTHEWOODS.MP4. If Derek is particularly familiar with the varied assortment of videos in the archives of Reggie's camming page it's possible he's seen it before (but posted behind the paywall), but if not, here it is for free!
As it is, it's certainly bound to look familiar. The video depicts Reggie outside in what does appear to be a wooded area (the woods behind Nick's church, to be precise), on his hands and knees in the dirt. He's wearing only a t-shirt and his submissive's collar around his neck, although the remnants of a pair of flimsy athletic shorts can be seen hanging around his knees as if they'd been torn off him. His partner isn't quite in frame, visible in how he's roughly holding Reggie down as he fucks him into the dirt, but even if Derek couldn't recognize himself he'd likely recognize his own voice, or perhaps the filthy things he's saying to Reggie, calling Reggie as he fucks him under moonlight.
It may be a full moon or it may not be, it's hard to tell -- the moon seems quite bright, but that could also just be the lighting enhancing it for filming -- but then the camera raises and tilts slightly, getting a better angle from slightly above of Derek's cock in its entirety, knot and all, sinking relentlessly into Reggie over and over. Reggie sounds particularly loud in the quiet, dark woods, gasping for more, not ever calling Derek by name in the video but begging and pledging his allegiance and his body to his Alpha as he whimpers and cries out desperately.
They continue for multiple rounds in multiple positions, possibly for hours, both of them certainly with the stamina to last for hours, whether or not the feed records for that long-- that part will probably depend on what sort of tips they got at the time as incentives to keep going. ]
As it is, it's certainly bound to look familiar. The video depicts Reggie outside in what does appear to be a wooded area (the woods behind Nick's church, to be precise), on his hands and knees in the dirt. He's wearing only a t-shirt and his submissive's collar around his neck, although the remnants of a pair of flimsy athletic shorts can be seen hanging around his knees as if they'd been torn off him. His partner isn't quite in frame, visible in how he's roughly holding Reggie down as he fucks him into the dirt, but even if Derek couldn't recognize himself he'd likely recognize his own voice, or perhaps the filthy things he's saying to Reggie, calling Reggie as he fucks him under moonlight.
It may be a full moon or it may not be, it's hard to tell -- the moon seems quite bright, but that could also just be the lighting enhancing it for filming -- but then the camera raises and tilts slightly, getting a better angle from slightly above of Derek's cock in its entirety, knot and all, sinking relentlessly into Reggie over and over. Reggie sounds particularly loud in the quiet, dark woods, gasping for more, not ever calling Derek by name in the video but begging and pledging his allegiance and his body to his Alpha as he whimpers and cries out desperately.
They continue for multiple rounds in multiple positions, possibly for hours, both of them certainly with the stamina to last for hours, whether or not the feed records for that long-- that part will probably depend on what sort of tips they got at the time as incentives to keep going. ]
So Big Brother nabbed the wrong version of me, hilarious right? Anyway, I fixed it but I'll be out of commission for two weeks. Think you can hold the fort down while I look pretty behind bars?
[ it's early when stiles wakes, warm and loose-limbed and grasping onto the fuzzy images of a good but fleeting dream. it's early enough that the sun has only just barely begun to peek over the horizon, the den still mostly dark save for the dim, purpley-orange light that bleeds through the windows from outside. stiles wakes slowly, and for no particular reason - or maybe it's just that he shifted over in bed, and found one half of it empty; not entirely cold, but not warm enough to keep him from wondering how long derek's been up. he drags one lazy hand through the sheets where there should be a warm, solid body, and breathes in deep through his nose, his eyebrows pinching slightly.
phantom hands slide over his ribs, touch the sides of his throat, hazy, dream-like images flickering in his mind. dark hair, a low, gravelly voice murmuring in his ear. stiles breathes out, tilting over onto his back and stretching one arm backwards over his head, his other hand splaying over his ribs like he expects to find derek's there, like they were in his dream. he's alone, though, and though he's barely coherent, he settles and just... listens, eyes still closed, breathing slow and sleepy.
he can hear someone in the kitchen - the soft clink of a mug being carefully set down on the counter, the faint slide of a drawer pulled open and then pushed shut, the low hiss of the coffee maker, and stiles knows it's derek trying his best to be quiet, to let him sleep, like he always does. stiles hums a low note as he exhales again, his hand sliding from his ribs to his stomach, threadbare t-shirt rusting quietly under his palm. his fingertips stop at the waistband of his boxers, but only for a moment, and then his fingers drift lower, idly passing over his cock, half-hard and sensitive.
in the kitchen, he hears derek murmur something unintelligible, his tone threaded with quiet affection. stiles drags his hand back up his torso, brings his other arm back down, and lightly pulls his hands over his face before pushing his fingers up into his hair, twisting his body and arching his back in a long, sleepy stretch. he sighs, and with a lot of effort, he turns himself over again, onto his side, and uses both of his hands to push himself up, sliding his legs over the edge of the bed and letting his feet settle against the cool floor.
for a moment, he just sits there, still with his eyes closed, his hands pressed palm to palm between his knees, his shoulders hunched slightly. he still feels tired and heavy, like he could easily sleep for a few more hours, but there's a - a neediness in him, too, that far outweighs any exhaustion he might be feeling. slowly, stiles opens his eyes, not even half way as he blinks blearily at the bedroom window and the sun that seems to be struggling to keep awake just as much as he is. he wets his lips, draws one hand out from between his knees to rub at the edge of his jaw, and then braces the same hand against the bed by his thigh, pushing himself to his feet.
the den is dim as he wanders out from the bedroom, but his eyes are adjusted to the darkness as well as a human's can be, so navigating is relatively easy. stiles shuffles down the hall, arms crossed tight over his chest in two overlapping 'v's, hands gripping his own shoulders in a way that makes it look like he's hugging himself, and follows the faint scent of coffee to the kitchen - and derek, standing at the counter with his back to stiles, but stiles can tell by the tiny pause in his movements and the way he tilts his head just slightly to listen that derek knows he's there.
stiles says nothing as he stumbles around the island, his hip bumping the corner of the counter. he stumbles enough that he instinctively uncrosses his arms just in case he needs to catch himself, but he's just fine, and steps up behind derek, letting his eyes slide closed again. silently, he tilts his head forward, leaning his forehead in the space between derek's shoulders, right at the base of his neck, and breathes in deep, his nose pressing against warm skin. he hums another low note as he breathes out, and rests his palms against derek's hips, sliding them forward and around to his front, one over his ribs, the other over his stomach, standing so they're chest-to-back. if stiles subconsciously presses his hips forward a little, well - he doesn't exactly feel guilty about it.
murmuring, he presses a lazy kiss to the back of derek's neck, his voice a little raspy. ]
Mn. Coffee smells good. [ ... ] You smell good.
phantom hands slide over his ribs, touch the sides of his throat, hazy, dream-like images flickering in his mind. dark hair, a low, gravelly voice murmuring in his ear. stiles breathes out, tilting over onto his back and stretching one arm backwards over his head, his other hand splaying over his ribs like he expects to find derek's there, like they were in his dream. he's alone, though, and though he's barely coherent, he settles and just... listens, eyes still closed, breathing slow and sleepy.
he can hear someone in the kitchen - the soft clink of a mug being carefully set down on the counter, the faint slide of a drawer pulled open and then pushed shut, the low hiss of the coffee maker, and stiles knows it's derek trying his best to be quiet, to let him sleep, like he always does. stiles hums a low note as he exhales again, his hand sliding from his ribs to his stomach, threadbare t-shirt rusting quietly under his palm. his fingertips stop at the waistband of his boxers, but only for a moment, and then his fingers drift lower, idly passing over his cock, half-hard and sensitive.
in the kitchen, he hears derek murmur something unintelligible, his tone threaded with quiet affection. stiles drags his hand back up his torso, brings his other arm back down, and lightly pulls his hands over his face before pushing his fingers up into his hair, twisting his body and arching his back in a long, sleepy stretch. he sighs, and with a lot of effort, he turns himself over again, onto his side, and uses both of his hands to push himself up, sliding his legs over the edge of the bed and letting his feet settle against the cool floor.
for a moment, he just sits there, still with his eyes closed, his hands pressed palm to palm between his knees, his shoulders hunched slightly. he still feels tired and heavy, like he could easily sleep for a few more hours, but there's a - a neediness in him, too, that far outweighs any exhaustion he might be feeling. slowly, stiles opens his eyes, not even half way as he blinks blearily at the bedroom window and the sun that seems to be struggling to keep awake just as much as he is. he wets his lips, draws one hand out from between his knees to rub at the edge of his jaw, and then braces the same hand against the bed by his thigh, pushing himself to his feet.
the den is dim as he wanders out from the bedroom, but his eyes are adjusted to the darkness as well as a human's can be, so navigating is relatively easy. stiles shuffles down the hall, arms crossed tight over his chest in two overlapping 'v's, hands gripping his own shoulders in a way that makes it look like he's hugging himself, and follows the faint scent of coffee to the kitchen - and derek, standing at the counter with his back to stiles, but stiles can tell by the tiny pause in his movements and the way he tilts his head just slightly to listen that derek knows he's there.
stiles says nothing as he stumbles around the island, his hip bumping the corner of the counter. he stumbles enough that he instinctively uncrosses his arms just in case he needs to catch himself, but he's just fine, and steps up behind derek, letting his eyes slide closed again. silently, he tilts his head forward, leaning his forehead in the space between derek's shoulders, right at the base of his neck, and breathes in deep, his nose pressing against warm skin. he hums another low note as he breathes out, and rests his palms against derek's hips, sliding them forward and around to his front, one over his ribs, the other over his stomach, standing so they're chest-to-back. if stiles subconsciously presses his hips forward a little, well - he doesn't exactly feel guilty about it.
murmuring, he presses a lazy kiss to the back of derek's neck, his voice a little raspy. ]
Mn. Coffee smells good. [ ... ] You smell good.
Edited (listen.) 2021-03-25 08:23 (UTC)
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Hey.
I might not be home when you get off work tonight
Going to hang out with a friend.
[ ... ]
I don't know if you've tried that super fancy cheese I bought last weekend yet?
But I made the best freaking grilled cheese I think I've ever had in my entire life with it
So. You know. If you don't already have dinner planned, that's an option.
Slap some bacon on it, find God.
Anyway. See you later.
I might not be home when you get off work tonight
Going to hang out with a friend.
[ ... ]
I don't know if you've tried that super fancy cheese I bought last weekend yet?
But I made the best freaking grilled cheese I think I've ever had in my entire life with it
So. You know. If you don't already have dinner planned, that's an option.
Slap some bacon on it, find God.
Anyway. See you later.
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