calloused: ғᴀᴏʟᴀᴅʜ (30.)
ᴅᴇʀᴇᴋ ʜᴀʟᴇ ♔ ([personal profile] calloused) wrote2019-01-19 03:09 pm
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Derek Hale. Leave a message.

( video / text / voice / action )

overshirts: <user name="easycompany"> (and dw is still like)

[personal profile] overshirts 2019-05-29 03:50 pm (UTC)(link)
[ that's nothing, derek says to a serial fidgeter, to someone who talks more than he breathes sometimes. he gets what derek's trying to do, though, so stiles tries not to snap back at him. that would probably just earn him another ominous envelope in the mail anyway.

if he's honest, he's not all that worried about having to shut up and sit still. he can manage it if he has to, but what bothers him is that he shouldn't have to. to police and punish people for their opposing opinions, especially those that bring no harm to others - it's insane. it's authoritarian.

stiles drags a hand down over his face, down his throat, hooks his fingers into his collar and twists them around in his frustration, unintentionally stretching the material out a little. he sighs, shaking his head, mostly to himself. ]


Don't.
I still haven't found another job yet.
And we still have to pay rent.
Finish your shift.
It's not like I'm going anywhere.


[ stiles still has most of the money from the carnival left over, but he can only make that stretch so far before he's going to have to start chipping into his savings - which, admittedly, is not that much anymore - if he doesn't find another job soon. ]
Edited 2019-05-29 15:50 (UTC)
overshirts: <user name="poortraits"> (216)

[personal profile] overshirts 2019-05-30 12:01 am (UTC)(link)
[ if stiles were less irritated, he might see what derek's trying to for him here. he understands what derek's doing, he gets that he's trying to be encouraging and optimistic, that he's just trying to be helpful and maybe guide stiles toward a better mood - but it just frustrates him even more, and he doesn't know why.

the cat hops up onto a stool on the opposite side of the kitchen island, then hops up onto the counter. stiles glances up from his phone, his jaw tight, and instead of shooing her down because she's not supposed to be up there, he just slaps his hand down on the countertop, making a loud noise. it startles her, and she scurries, and stiles doesn't feel bad about it yet, but he will.

grinding his teeth lightly, stiles turns around - and he sits, right there on the kitchen floor, back leaned against the cabinets, knees pulled up, the backs of his wrists resting against them. he's got his phone in his hands, shoulders rounded. ]


Work there and do what?
Sweep the floors after everyone's gone home?
Clean out all the drip pans?
Even if I didn't have to do a shitty job, what makes you think I qualify to work in a garage?
What, are they going to call up the CEO of Duct Tape for a reference?


[ stiles knows his way around under the hood of a car just fine, he's just - being an asshole, mostly unintentionally. he's mad, and frustrated and annoyed, and he's taking it out on someone who doesn't deserve it. shame it'll take him a little bit longer to realize it. ]

You know how shitty that would be?
We'd see each other more, but I'd have to act like your obedient little pet in front of everyone.
Especially now, if I'm suddenly on a radar for citations.
Yeah. Thanks but no thanks.

Nobody's going to pay me to play lacrosse.
And they sure as shit aren't going to let a submissive coach an entire team.
Not that I'd even want to
But you know what?
This place is great
Nothing but good things to say about Duplicity.
overshirts: <user name="easycompany"> (and dw is still like)

[personal profile] overshirts 2019-05-30 12:51 am (UTC)(link)
[ it works. stiles get's really, really fucking angry over the word punishment - to the point that he sucks in a sharp, deep breath though his nose, clenches his teeth hard enough that it makes his jaw ache - and then it's like someone flips a switch and he just. sags back against the cabinets, realizing that he's being an absolute dick to derek for no reason.

he was a dick to the cat, too. stiles swallows and twists a little to see if he can see where she is, but he can't. he swallows again, sinks back against the cabinets, and puts his thumb nail in his mouth, breathing out slowly.

he's gotta find something to do. maybe another shower or - a nap, if he can manage to fall asleep now that he's fully awake. maybe a walk around the woods, some fresh air, some exercise before he has to be strapped down for a quarter of a fucking day. ]


Okay.
Sorry for pulling you away from work.
And for mouthing off at you.


[ he only half means that last part. what he means is sorry for being an asshole, but he phrases in a way that makes it sound more like he's aware that he's stepped out of the lines that are meant to mold him into an acceptable submissive. the same lines he's refused to bend himself to fit since the beginning. ]
Edited (hhhhhhhhh) 2019-05-30 00:54 (UTC)
overshirts: <user name="bungalows"> (152)

[personal profile] overshirts 2019-05-30 01:51 am (UTC)(link)
[ the cat's avoided him all day, since he snapped at her. stiles has tried coaxing her closer with treats, he's tried talking into the empty den, apologizing to her as if she'd understand, he's tried putting more food out for her without derek around. he's brought out the laser pointer, and he's uselessly flicked her little plastic mouse across the living room floor.

she's spent most of the day hiding under furniture, or leaving whatever room she happens to be in, when stiles eventually finds her. he gives up, after about an hour or so, and just takes another shower instead. the water on the back of his neck feels nice, helps kind of ease some of the tension and anxiety he's been holding over lashing out at derek and scaring their cat, both for no reason other than his childish frustration.

stiles is reading, when derek comes home. he's seated in the middle of their bed, legs crossed and folded underneath him, and he's got one of rosalind's book in his lap, from her library that he and derek transplanted into their own home after she left. he hasn't really been able to focus, so he's had to go back and reread several passages several times to comprehend them before moving on. stiles hears the door unlock and he hears it slide open and he hears it slide closed, but he doesn't get up or call out to derek like he typically would.

he does look up when derek appears in the doorway though, the sound of his voice pulling his attention just as much as the soft rustle of the plastic bag hanging from his fingers. he only glances at it briefly, closing the book in his lap around his thumb. ]


... Hey.

[ stiles' brows pinch subtly - derek's home earlier than he expected. he'd had plans to make something for dinner, probably as an apology for snapping at him, but he'd also expected to have more time. stiles just looks at him for a moment, and decides not to say anything about it. he doesn't want to argue about money, or about - anything, really.

he bites at the inside of his cheek, his mouth twisting a little guiltily. ]


Cat's not talking to me anymore.

[ ignoring him. steering clear, whatever. it counts as not talking to him. ]

... I was mean to her, too. Now's your chance to convince her to let you be her favorite.
Edited 2019-05-30 01:55 (UTC)
overshirts: fanatika @ ha (074)

[personal profile] overshirts 2019-05-30 03:08 am (UTC)(link)
[ stiles showered twice today, so there's no reason he should smell bad. he scrubbed, he applied deodorant - he should be fine. his eyebrows draw together, and he almost lifts one of his arms up to take a cautious sniff before he realizes what it is derek means. it just makes him feel a little bit worse, but only briefly, because he's been trying to relax.

trying is the key word, though, because he knows he's not relaxed. he feels mostly okay, but he's been worried about the damn cat and whether he's ruined the trust he built with her, and he's been worried about derek being mad at him, whih would have been justified, and he's been worried about this stupid citation. his first one, and they hit him hard. no talking, and no moving - the two things he does best, the two things he doesn't really know how not to do. for six hours.

he'll be fine. he knows he'll be fine, but he still doesn't want to do it. he still doesn't want to submit.

stiles wants to admit to derek that she's scared because he purposely startled her by slapping his hand down onto the kitchen counter, but - it won't solve anything. it won't change the fact that she's been keeping her distance from him. he just feels a little sad about it, because that's not him. he's not cruel, especially not to those he cares about. he's just - stressed. about a lot of things, about money, about finding another job that isn't humiliating or degrading, about stupid shit he hasn't brought up with derek because it's just stupid shit. he still has to figure out his meds. he's close to running out.

derek sits, and stiles feels this weird urge to just crawl into his lap. he doesn't do it, but he does put his book aside and shift his legs a little, so they're folded a little more loosely. they way derek looks at him helps put him a little more at ease, and he breathes out, nodding quietly. if derek says she'll come around, then he trusts derek.

absently, he twists his ring. ]


I - didn't know cats could sense that sort of thing. The way you can, I mean.

[ he doesn't know a whole lot about cats, if he's honest. stiles glances down, tilting his chin toward the bag derek left beside the bed. ]

What's that?
overshirts: <user name="darkwave"> | dns (in what you believe)

[personal profile] overshirts 2019-05-30 04:28 am (UTC)(link)
[ derek can't possibly know how their cat feels about stiles, but the reassurance that she doesn't hat him does make him feel a little bit better, if he's honest. it's one less thing to stress himself out about, though he's still going to feel bad for as long as it's going to take for her to come around to him again. the way she's been avoiding him today just reminded him of her behavior and her demeanor around him when he'd only just started trying to feed her back in the down. it took forever to get her to trust him enough to let him get close.

stiles tries not to think about her now, though. derek says she'll come around, so she'll come around, and all stiles can do is be patient and wait and do what he can to show her he's sorry. he moves on, his attention snagged on the bag derek drags up to the bed and sets in the space between them. stiles rests his elbows on his knees and leans forward a little, curiosity getting the better of him.

admittedly, stiles hadn't really given much thought to how he - or they, rather, as it seems to be - were going to handle carrying out the terms of his citation. he hadn't considered whether or not they had the proper... materials. it's possible that they probably could have improvised, but for some reason, this just makes stiles feel... safer.

he looks up as derek sets to set stuff out, watching his boyfriend more than he's watching what he's pulling out of the bag. he tilts his head slightly, silently wondering - why? derek didn't have to do this. he didn't have to go out of his way to make sure stiles had the means to be comfortable, especially after stiles was a little bit of a jerk to him earlier. but that's what this is - derek's... looking after him.

it's not the first time that stiles has found himself thinking that he doesn't deserve derek. he looks back down at the restraints, eyes wandering from one to the next. silently, he reaches out and sets the silk ropes aside, not to use, but to discard. they're too close to what was used during lupanar, and while he enjoyed his time with derek, he still feels a little bit weird about - everything else. he moves onto the gags next, as derek continues rifling through the bag.

the bone gag makes him laugh. it's soft and under his breath, but his chest rumbles with a low, stuttered sound when he squeezes it and it squeaks back at him. he says nothing, but looks up and arches a high brow at derek. he sets this one side with the silk.

stiles hasn't chosen a gag yet by the time derek pushes the bag at him. stiles pulls it closer and leans over it, pushing the plastic down. he's... silent, lips slightly parted so he can wet them. it's... full of toys, and not the kind stiles might put on a nice shelf for display. there are things he recognizes, things he doesn't, things he's curious about. he looks up when derek starts to explain.

again, stiles wonders how he got so lucky. in all of his frustration, stiles never once stopped to consider that he could spin this around. it never crossed his mind that maybe he - they - could turn this into something rewarding rather than reprimanding. stiles' heart flutters a little, and he feels the bottom of his neck start to get a little warm just under the scoop of his collar. he stares at derek for a few very long seconds, and then looks down.

he's... bashful. he's grateful, actually, to have someone like derek as his partner. stiles laughs a little, rustling the bag on purpose. ]


I - don't make fun of me, okay - but I don't even know what half of this stuff is for. [ he looks up, and he's still anxious, but it doesn't feel so sour anymore. ] You're... really good to me. I'm sorry for asking you to cancel plans if you had any. That was - I was just mad, and I wanted to get this done and out of the way. If you had stuff you wanted to do, it's okay. You can still do it. I've got thirty days to get this done.

[ stiles pauses for a moment, biting at the inside corner of his lip. ]

... But if you don't - you should pick which one.

[ stiles lowers his gaze over the short line of gags derek laid out, just in case he doesn't understand what he means. ]
overshirts: <user name="easycompany"> (god)

[personal profile] overshirts 2019-05-30 02:33 pm (UTC)(link)
[ the moment derek starts to smirk, stiles knows what's coming. don't make fun of me apparently means tease the shit out of me, you handsome bastard. stiles rolls his eyes, he rolls his entire head before derek can even get started, but he's more amused than he is annoyed - actually, he isn't really annoyed at all. he lets derek poke his fun, idly picking up the nylon rope to pull it through his fingers to see if he likes how it feels. he doesn't, so he puts it aside with the silk.

stiles could defend himself, even though there's not much to defend. yes, he has fallen down a weird rabbit hole and spent a decent amount of time reading about all kinds of sex-related shit - but he's also a teenager, and there's only so much he can read and look at and try to imagine before he winds up with a rock-hard dick and very little impulse control. and it's kind of hard to read while jerking off, so obviously stiles has had to pause during his research. quite often.

anyway, that's not important. stiles lazily gives him the finger and then reaches with the same hand to touch another restraint, fingers prodding at the handcuffs. he seems to linger on these longer than the first two so far, contemplative, unsure. his dad's a cop, he's the sheriff - it's probably not a good idea to turn a part of his dad's job into something potentially sexual and kinky, but he's curious. he doesn't set them aside, but he does move on.

stiles glances up briefly, catches derek smiling as he looks at the black bag full of toys. his stomach swoops for a moment - so far, he and derek haven't really... explored anything involving toys, and stiles is more than okay with that. the sex he has with derek is incredible, every single time, and he's never wanted for more, never wanted anything else. the thought of trying something a little different, something new to them, makes him a little bit excited, but it also makes him really nervous.

derek distracts him easily, though, with stupid, sweet words. stiles doesn't ever want to be the kind of person who presents derek with an ultimatum, forces him to choose between himself and something else, but it makes him feel safe and protected to hear derek say that he'll always be there for stiles. he huffs a quiet, affectionate sort of laugh through his nose, wets his lips, nods like he understands.

quietly, stiles watches Derek's hands. he follows them as they touch each gag, anticipating building in him slowly. he wants to know what derek is thinking about each one, but he doesn't ask. stiles has never been properly gagged before, which is kind of objectively hilarious. the closest he's come was when the nogitsune was in possession of his body, and everyone was tired of him … talking shit, basically. they'd taped his mouth closed. this is different. this is kind of scary in a different way, but he trusts derek. he trusts him to get him through to the other side of six hours.

derek picks something with blue ribbon. stiles wonders if he does it on purpose - he likes blue, it's his favorite color - or if it's just the one that seems the most comfortable and the least intimidating. absently, he flexes his jaw and touches his tongue to the roof of his mouth, imagining what it'll feel like in his mouth.

he looks up, finds derek looking at him almost kind of hesitantly. stiles smiles faintly and nods. ]


Yeah. Yeah, okay. I like... the blue.

[ the blue, which has no impact on whether or not the gag will be comfortable, but that's apparently his strongest opinion about it right now. he likes that it's blue.

glancing down, stiles reaches a hesitant hand toward the discard pile he started. he nudges the bone gag aside, then curls his fingers around the silk restraints. ]


I, um. I'm... not sure if I want this? These. But I think everything else is just going to rub or bite too much.

[ because he's annoying and fidgety and he's bound to be the same while tied down, and while a little rope burn would probably be fine, stiles isn't interested in having to make excuses for any suspicious and/or obvious marks, if someone were to see them and ask, afterwards. ]