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 )

confiscated: (⇀ severed by light)

[personal profile] confiscated 2019-08-04 06:46 am (UTC)(link)
[Derek gives him the go ahead to shed the jacket and aside from briefly lifting his shoulderblade from the cushion, Tate does nothing - it feels like too much effort to slither out of the leather that's sticking to his skin, even for the rush of relief it'd grant him. He lays there in Derek's jacket, shirtless beneath it, and just moans his name instead as he feels Derek's balls slap up against him. His lips part in a silent 'O' when Derek sits there, holding on and fiercely beginning to fill him.

He thinks for a second that he's imagining the sudden stretch, the gentle swell of Derek's cock that starts to push him back to his limits. Derek fucks into him harder, making Tate slip against the seat until he lifts his legs to hook them around Derek's waist, anchoring around him to hold on so that - at the very least - he's dragged back with him between thrusts and not left crunched up into the door in the back seat.]


Come on - come on.

[His voice is ragged and he's egging Derek on to go harder, to really wolf out. He might have said he doesn't want the red anymore or to rely on it, but it'd be a lie to say it doesn't still give him a flare of attraction. Tate works his hips to slam back up against Derek, trying to get them back to that near impossible bliss in the booth. He wants to be raw and hurting, he wants to - be fucked so wildly in the back seat of this car that neither of them will forget it. He wants to make memories that Derek cannot ever top. Never replace. Never need to replace.]

C'mon Derek - fuck me!
Edited 2019-08-04 06:47 (UTC)
confiscated: (⇀ lost dreams)

[personal profile] confiscated 2019-08-04 06:25 pm (UTC)(link)
[Tate likes the way Derek looks down at him - predatory, to say the least. He's heaving heavy breaths and fucking into him like an animal, wet slaps of their bodies hitting together definitely going to be picked up by the camera. The camera that wanders a bit as it takes in Tate from this angle, writhing and and rolling his head side to side each time he's fucked down against the car's seat. He swears, at some point, that he feels like he's going to actually end up going through it with how hard Derek's hips are pistoning in against him.

His fingers graze the backs of the front seats and the door behind him as he struggles to find something to hold on to, failing and falling into a helpless state of just... going with the motion. It makes him even hornier, having no options and being dragged back and forth until his lower back's due to feel raw and sore. But Tate doesn't care, he squeezes his legs tighter around Derek and welcomes the deep, forceful fucking that's going to make the whole of him raw and sore by the end.

Derek drops Tate's device on him and it slaps against his chest, momentarily recording the black of the ceiling and Derek hunching forward. That's what Tate records - briefly, admittedly - angling it up to see his own POV shot of Derek as he plows into him. It's only a handful of seconds, twenty at best, because Tate's overwhelmed and lets the device fall to the wayside to sit on the floor of the backseat. It's still recording their huffs and groans, the squeaky seat and the lewd noises of a sticky second round.]


Derek...

[Tate's breath is fucked out of him and he's gripping his hand against Derek's wrist for support, feeling his weight pushing down on his shoulder with a pained but blissful grunt. He feels him really hitting deep, deeper than it feels they have before, maybe because it seems easier than any other time. Tate's been fucked twice within the span of an hour, he's pliant and malleable and surrendering to Derek's whims. He feels Derek swell and squirms at first like he wants away from it, but there's no avoiding it. He says 'yeah' several times, slurring the cheering on as the pain chatters his teeth together and makes his cock spurt precum between them. How is he always this quick to come, even after feeling exhausted from the first time? He can feel it building, quick and hot - and blushes red from being so easy.]
confiscated: (⇀ a time of regret)

[personal profile] confiscated 2019-08-05 01:37 am (UTC)(link)
[Derek's arms envelop him, pulling him close and making each thrust and grind all that more brutally passionate. Tate's cock is rigid and so close to blowing his load against Derek's abs when he lays over him, coaxing hoarse groans and shouts as Tate's arms reach around Derek's chest to hold on to him. His nails drag over the broad sides of his back, scratching red lines that criss and cross the longer this goes on.

His thighs are squeezing to Derek's sides, calves cramping from how hard he's holding on with his legs in addition to his arms. He's moving with Derek's every dip and plunge, starting to feel frantic with how raw he's become and how Derek shows no signs of relenting. No signs of slowing down. If anything, it will only get worse - Tate feels the swell of Derek's cock enough to predict what's coming and as soon as he notices that thick bulge slamming up against him he's not surprised. Concerned, maybe, because for all Derek's efforts to jam it inside him - he doesn't seem to make it happen. And Tate feels like he's being torn apart in the process, so very on the verge of panicking from the overwhelming pain and pleasure.

He doesn't think he can do this. There's no way he can? His voice is a hoarse rattling cry the harder Derek fucks him and the more he somehow stretches, tears slipping out the corners of his eyes when it finally happens. He pushes and he pushes and he pushes and Tate stretches. He pushes some more and Tate's legs jerk and his toes curl, and he bites down on Derek's neck with his own level of skin-breaking ferocity. The knot slides in past his tired, ruined hole and settles inside him like an anchor. One Tate squirms against, not for displeasure but because he's in the throes of a sudden orgasm. Somewhere mixed with the pain and the final relief of having him inside, Tate came - jets of white between their bodies, painting them both as Derek sunk to pin him down.

Tate can't imagine how he looks, tear stained and blushing red - his eyes are glossy and unfocused, rolling back behind fluttering lashes as he feels the never-ending push against his prostate and the utter fullness. They're stuck together at this point, joined in a car that now smells of sex and sweet and sour pork. Tate's chest is heaving and his heart rate is through the roof - but he manages to stop jerking and whimpering, looking up at Derek with shiny lips and a well fucked smile.]


You fit.
confiscated: (⇀ skin and bone)

[personal profile] confiscated 2019-08-05 10:02 pm (UTC)(link)
[Every little motion makes Tate react, muscles clenching and relaxing like he's being softly shocked. It's a weird feeling, much as it was when that knot was nestled behind his teeth - when Derek pulls back against him, he's forced to move with him as there's no give and sliding out. That hurts a bit - hurts a lot, actually - but Tate doesn't make a noise. He's too blissed out and fucking tired all of a sudden, still shuddering in the aftershock of his orgasm.

Sweat clings to his brow as he stares up at the roof of the car, feeling Derek's teeth scratch up his neck and throat. He looks into his eyes when he pulls back, staring right back at Derek when he comes - mesmerized by the look on his lover's face before curling his arms tight around him when he settles. His legs have relaxed but really have nowhere to go, the tight space of the car keeping them twisted up with Derek's.

This is the moment he's been wanting, the moment he's been looking forward to. They didn't have this, in the booth, because they had to scramble to put themselves back together and leave. They couldn't enjoy the afterglow the same way they couldn't take it farther than far. Tate felt but never felt Derek's knot then but he sure as hell does now as it still rocks into him even after he's blown his load. Tate's nails skim down his back, soothing swipes instead of dug in grooves. He can't really breathe easy but he manages because he likes the weight of Derek sitting on him like a rock.

He can't tell if he can feel Derek's cum pumping into him on account of the still-rigid cock, but he's realizing with a wry press of his lips to Derek's throat that the mess now is going to be faaaar worse than it was before. And he has no extra shirts to spare.]


Your car's going to be a mess in twenty minutes.
confiscated: (⇀ than life lost)

[personal profile] confiscated 2019-08-07 05:16 pm (UTC)(link)
[Tate laughs, light and genuine, when Derek declines to care about the soon to be messy state of his car. His head just lolls back while Derek's kissing his neck and he laughs, feeling surprisingly unanchored and light despite being pinned beneath Derek's bull-like weight and tethered to him by the absurd reality of his cock. He just feels like he's gotten sweet release, something that cleared his head and makes him feel steady on his feet again. Or on his back, in this instance.

His leg's cramping and he tries to move it, but there's really nowhere for his heel to find better purchase. Aside from that, he feels good - treasured, by Derek's wandering hands, and made to feel like he really is the only thing that matters to him. For now, anyway. That bubble will dissipate with sobering reality later, but for now - Tate's dopey and happy, eyes dulled with afterglow and a smile still touching to his lips on and off, like the small thrusts Derek still does instinctively.]


Yeah, you're good.

[Better than good. This might be the closest he's been able to feel to someone since coming here, and not for a lack of trying. Kavinsky was close, in the desperate need for need. Violet would've been ideal if she'd - loved him any. Derek still has someone else he considers his first, though, and always will. Tate will never find his perfect match.]

Dunno about - always being like this though. Might be inconvenient.
confiscated: (⇀ skin and bone)

[personal profile] confiscated 2019-08-08 01:50 am (UTC)(link)
[Tate grunts when they move, voice caught somewhere in his throat as they shift - he clenches more than he'd like to, reminded with a little now uncomfortable shudder that Derek's still in him. Rigid, rather unmoving, it makes him ache a bit as his body stays stretched and taut around him rather than healing and tightening up. As his body cools, all he feels is slightly more sweaty in this leather jacket - but he butts his forehead against Derek's and then lets him mouth at his neck.

Derek's crooning all the right words - the things Tate wants and wants to be able to promise. He wants to be everything and give everything, to live so wrapped up and entwined with someone that they're one. Makes him wish he could've been that for Violet all the more, and he coaxes his fingers through Derek's dark hair before sighing and nuzzling in against his chest.]


You won't. We won't. We're pack now.

[Sort of. Tate's voice is low and reassuring, spoken with the softest murmur.]

It'll only get better from here. I'm yours, you're mine. That's how it's going to be now.