cora + derek.

[ it starts in their bathroom. ]
[ derek doesn't jerk off much, and when he does, he doesn't use his hands. it's too — he doesn't like it, doesn't want to be touched, even by himself. he presses his dick between his thighs as he lays on his stomach and squeezes 'til it pops, or mounts the corner of his bed, fucks a pillow with gritted teeth. once he stole cora's vibrator, sniffing it out in her little bedroom, mouth going wet with the scent of it. ]
[ this time it's in the shower, eyes closed as he holds the detachable shower head over his groin, feet shifting apart a little so he can aim the hard spray behind his balls, then back to his dick again. the water is scalding, firm as a physical touch, and derek breathes hard, leans his forehead against the cool tile and closes his eyes, giving into the sensation. ]
[ he doesn't hear the bathroom door. but he hears cora's heartbeat pick up, scents her, and even as he turns with a slack mouth to see her standing there, he comes, streaking his hand and the shower head and the wall with creamy ropes. ]
Shit.
[ he whispers, stares at her, dazed, chest heaving and flushed from neck to navel, not sure what to do or say. he's humiliated, but he associates that with sex. ]
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[ derek takes a deep breath, nostrils flaring with it. this is cora. he'd do anything for cora, and she him. there's nothing to fear here. ]
[ she might have thought he wasn't capable of action, but derek wants this, a sensation that's so unfamiliar to him that it pushes thoughts aside. he reaches up, almost clinical, and covers her breasts with both hands. there's something dispassionate about it, like a breast exam: he squeezes the nipples with his palms, massages them a little, watching her unblinkingly. ]
[ then his hands slide down to her hips, and he picks her up and half throws her on the bed, chasing immediately after her, quiet and intent on getting the rest of her clothes off. ]
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and he seems to take a cue just fine.
there's a sharp intake of breath and disgruntled grunt when she hits the mattress. cora twists and lands strangely, half on her stomach and half on her side, but bounces and recovers quickly enough. quickly enough to sit up and glare at him.
he's on her just as quickly, looming and curling his fingers in the waist of her sweats and tugging them off her hips. cora has absolutely no qualms with being naked. she took after their mother in that respect; had been incredibly stubborn about it as a younger child, and now doesn't mind that he strips her first. she, in turn, busies herself with kicking her legs out of her pants and siting up; sliding her hand across the very unsubtle bulge in his pants. she doesn't mind being naked, but wants to see and touch (so much touch) him too; likes the idea of pressing her shoulder blades to his chest, of running her hands along his side, too. so she makes a thin threat to his clothing. ]
If you don't take off your shirt, I'm going to shred it.
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[ he's never done this with another werewolf, and it's nice not to have to worry about hurting her as he puts a hand on either thigh and tugs them open. he dips and nuzzles the inside of her thigh, where fine, baby-soft gold hairs brush his lips. he snuffles his way upwards, pretty intent — derek's working on instinct, here, because if he lets himself think he's going to start being disgusted with himself. ]
[ maybe it's too fast, but this is how he'd been taught sex goes: kate had trained him to be good with his mouth and fingers, to drop to his knees the moment they were alone, to eat her out before he was allowed inside her. he had to jerk himself ready while he was down there. it's as normal a start to derek as a kiss would be to others. so he presses his nose into cora's downy pubes, breathes in the mate-pack-woman good smell of her. other lovers had been turned off by how much more important smell and taste were to derek than sight and touch, but cora's a werewolf, she'll understand that he just wants to take a moment to breathe her in. ]
I've thought about this.
[ he admits, voice muffled and guilty, eyes closed. ]
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it's lovely; it's erotic and (bad which makes it) good, and she's wet by the time he buries his face in her pelvic mound. her hips hitch weakly. she wants to ride his face, but he speaking, and like an immoral priest, she's here to take his confession.
i've thought about this.
and maybe...not absolve him of his sins. maybe just join him in them, because she's had unwanted late night thoughts. she'd considered them along the same vein of intrusive thoughts that had her thinking about dropping babies whenever she held them, or driving along the sidewalk. if i did that i could kill all those people. derek had big arms, he could probably hold me against a wall. and intrusive or not, it'd be a lie to say she hadn't gotten off on them once or twice. not that he needs to know that, exactly. ]
Like in the shower? [ she ventures, and the hand that's not braced on the mattress reaches down to card through his hair. ]
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[ it's sort of agreement. he hadn't thought of this in the shower specifically, or not until he'd turned and saw her there. it had been when he'd stolen her vibrator, breathed it in before he'd touched it to his dick, imagining what it would be like to get his face in her. the answer is: overwhelming. it's insane how good and safe he feels, especially when she pets his hair. ]
[ he slides his hands up and down her inner thighs, soothing the muscles, relaxing them so he can spread her legs further. and then his hands stop at the top, framing her pussy, before he uses his thumbs to gently ease her folds apart. she's beautiful here, but she's a hale: she's beautiful everywhere. ]
[ he considers asking permission, and then doesn't, just leans in and seals his mouth to her cunt, lapping softly. ]
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she's sensitive. hyperaware. and all that careful work he'd put into spreading her legs was useless because she draws them right back in around his ears. what sounds like it could be a moan is strangled in the back of her mouth as her throat constricts, and that hand in his hair ends up pulling at his hair before she realizes what she's doing.
there's nothing keeping her from grinding against his face now, and cora finds if he lays back on the bed, arches her back just so, and rolls her hips in small undulations, she can rock to his pace without completely setting it, and without completely smothering him. ]
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[ she starts to grind and derek lets her, though a part of him wants her to pull harder, squeeze tighter, fuck over his face so he can't breathe, leave him claimed by her sticky juices. ]
[ that thought's so appealing that he stops tonguing down towards her asshole and pulls back. he looks wrecked already and his dick's barely been touched. ]
You on top.
[ he rolls onto his back on the bed, reaches down to adjust his dick in his jeans without actually opening them. his eyes are closed again, tongue tracing the smear of her come on his lower lip, chasing her taste. ]
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he rolls over and after taking a brief moment to get her bearings, cora sits up as well.
though...
derek should have guessed by now that she's not the best at doing what she's told. not even very good at taking suggestions, and while he's eager to get his mouth on her again, she's torturously slow. and equally taste oriented. and while she's not fond of her own taste, she thinks she could like it mingled with his. so she takes her sweet time, and looms over him to place a swift but heavy kiss on his lips.
then she acquiesces; moves up his body to get her knees on either side of his face again. ]
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[ after about five seconds he pushes her up. ]
Turn around.
[ and when she's settled again, the other way around, it's easier for him to nose into her folds, hold his tongue out for her to grind the wet throb of her clit onto. he groans, a deep, growling rumble, and lets go of her ass to unzip his jeans, lift his hips, kick them off. ]
[ she'd got an eyeful before, but here it is again. he's no less ashamed of having a hard-on in front of his sister, heavy flesh smacking back into the curve of his hip as he frees it, but he needed out of the painfully tight constriction of his jeans. he doesn't touch it, though, just lets it dribble clear precome over his skin as he returns his hands, and his focus, to her. ]
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it's good, it's good, it's so good, and she closes her eyes; comes close to losing herself in his mouth and leans over his body so she can grip the bedsheets on either side of his hips. she needs an anchor of some sort here, and thin fabric between her fingers does wonders even when she thinks she might rip it. her hair is in a low ponytail and tickles between her shoulder blades; falls down when she allows her head to flop forward and trails across his skin. cora's so self absorbed that it takes her a split-second longer than it usually would to realize he'd just divested himself of his pants, and even longer to realize she was biting her tongue.
it takes her no time, however, to theorize what she could do to him, and even less to actually jump into action. it's impulsive, and he hadn't asked permission so neither would she, but one clenched hand releases the sheets to wrap around his dick instead, stroking disjointedly and distractedly. the little circles her hips had been moving in cease too, as cora favors her concentration towards him. she ghosts her lips across the dark swollen head, closing her eyes again and taking a nice, long sniff. it's amazing how scent based their perceptions can be; how incredibly and overwhelmingly strong the smell of sex is, how even with her eyes closed, all other senses scream derek to her. there's the little bit of precome that reminds her vividly of the bathroom incident, but they've come this far; the embarrassment seems null and void when he's got his face buried in her pussy and she's breathing hotly around his dick (fuck, derek, she starts to moan; mumble; groan and writhe). and if he won't touch himself, she certainly will. ]
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[ after a moment, a long moment in which he lets her hold him, stroke him clumsily, he reaches down and takes a firm hold of her wrist, an unspoken no. and to emphasize his point he endeavors to distract her, sucking in hard pulses at her clit, head following her whenever she writhes or tries to arch away, determined to keep it in his mouth until she comes. ]
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it goes both ways, she'd said, and now he's denying her any fair shot at making him come too; making him feel good, better than just when he did it himself, or when he did it without touching himself.
she's so angry, but she's also so wet; so close to coming. so angry that he's making her come, and grits her teeth in an attempt to stave off her climax. it doesn't work. the haphazard little jerk of her hips doesn't work to dislodge him, either; he's insistent and ruthless, and all but rips an orgasm from her hips. cora shudders, shakes, and while she doesn't scream no, she screams. it's ripped from her throat much the same way her climax is and sounds brutal, pained, and a bit too much like a howl.
and she sort of hates him for it. ]
God - fuck you, Derek.
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Is that what you want?
[ he asks meanly, grabbing her leg and dragging her a little closer, sliding his other hand between her thighs to feel where he's made a mess of her, tweaking her overstimulated clit. ]
[ for all he's acting disaffected, the idea of actually penetrating her makes something unhappy curl in his gut. he wants it, and he doesn't. he can't bring himself to kiss her again, so he pushes his face up against her neck where she can't see him. ]
Cora...
[ he murmurs it as he breathes her in. now, more than ever, he feels like a disappointment of a brother. ]
I want to make you come again.
[ he offers. he wants to make her come over and over again, if he's honest, like that pleasure can make up for everything he can't give her. ]
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winded, but mad. it's cora's turn to snake her hand between them and catch his wrist.
her - ] Don't. [ - is spoken aloud, at least (it's obvious which of the hale's walked away from the destruction of their childhood with superior communication skills here), even as her jugular thrums against his cheek and her breath ruffles his hair. ] Don't, [ she says again, and swallows thickly before continuing. there's more here, more to say. ] I don't want you to. I just want to touch you.
[ it goes both ways. that poorly contained agitation and annoyance bubbles to the surface as she all but whines - ]
Why won't you let me touch you.
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[ it's a complicated question. derek avoids it. ]
You were distracting me.
[ he pulls back again to look at her. he's not really concerned by their nudity, but he's very aware of the way his erection sits, heavy and pink against his pale thigh. he reaches down, tweaks the head, eases the foreskin back. he feels all his secrets churning just below the surface. ]
This is just the way I...
[ he wants to say, i like it, but that's not true. derek has no idea what he likes. this is the way he's been trained, and he shivers a little, though not because he's cold. there's a deep, decade-old bitterness in the slant of his mouth, now. ]
She used to do it like that too. Play with it while she sat on my face. Or I could fuck her — in the ass, so she wouldn't get pregnant.
[ that's all he knows. but. but. ]
I don't want that.
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he won't kiss her, but she's got a bad taste in her mouth anyway.
especially when he mentions her.
between jennifer blake and kate argent (who she's only heard about recently, and still bears a raw, burning hate for), she can make an easy guess who he's talking about. blake had almost been good for him until she showed her true face, but argent sounds like the devil incarnate, and cora bristles. the lust that glazed her face dissipates, and her lips press into a thin line. ]
It's not fair, [ she tells him stiffly. ] ...For you to compare me to her.
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Then don't do it like she did.
[ he spits. it's not even about cora so much as sex. all sex. vulnerability. the expectations derek places on himself, not knowing what's normal, not wanting what's normal, and hating himself for it. abruptly he trembles with the tension preceding getting up off the bed and leaving his own room, but doesn't quite. ]
It's not just that.
[ oh, it's not just intense ptsd cockblocking her? derek leans forwards, rests his forearms on his knees, triskelion a stark splash in the center of his muscled back. his jaw has a miserable slant to it again. ]
If I let you touch it, I'll probably knot.
[ and at last he's reached the center of his need to get off handsfree, his disgust at his own dick. ]
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it's frustrating; ridiculous and so backwards from how this is supposed to be going. cora mouthes a few expletives to the ceiling before running a hand over her face. she pulls her legs closed and sits up, perches on her knees behind him and studies the lines of his shoulders in case they divulge more than his mouth does.
but he's telling her plenty, and there's several moments of awkward silence as she tried to puzzle through his problems. she also has to assess if it bothers her to the same degree it bothers him, and ultimately it doesn't. ]
...so? [ she asks his back simply. the sheets rustle as she shuffles closer — slowly, like she'd approach a scared child (if she was any good with children), close but not close enough to be touching. ] What's your point?
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[ derek snaps. ]
That's —
[ he wants to say disgusting, but doesn't. ]
I'm not an animal.
[ despite the fact that he's gagging to mount his sister, which is pretty wolflike. he doesn't look at her, but his body language, his scent, screams that he's hurt and embarrassed and ashamed, and he can't even pretend to be detached from this anymore, can't get away from it. ]
Were you going to help me or not?
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but that didn't mean it was unnatural. or disgusting. or wrong.
just different.
as is apparently, their approach to this subject. to this entire event. because just a few minutes ago she'd wanted to taste his come on her tongue, and now all she wants to do is hug him and make him feel better.
in the end she compromises; starts off slow because he hadn't reacted well the last few times she'd tried to touch him. she closes the space between them and worms one arm around his chest. ] Yeah, I will. [ it's like a partial hug, but instead of putting her other arm around his torso, her hand dips into his lap and she grasps his cock. he's hot and hard, and she relishes the feeling of him in her palm in case derek swats her hand away again. ]
Just... let me do this for a while. [ i won't look, she thinks to say. but decides showing is better than telling, and presses her forehead against his back, and closes her eyes. ]
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Yeah.
[ he agrees. his dick is almost painfully sensitive, and unused to this kind of stimulation. her firm grip is nice, but when she moves it he groans roughly and jerks his hips. ]
Cora.
[ her name tastes good on his tongue. he thinks this might not take long. ]
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she doesn't need her eyes to be open to tell she's nosing his tattoo, nor to give him an adequate handjob. it's not as graceful as had she been facing him and staring, but it's not awful. she goes slowly because she decides that's what he needs; drags back his foreskin delicately and presses her forehead so hard into him that there's no way he can forget she's here, like this explicit of skin on skin contact would allow him to take on some of her ease, and she to bear some of his tension. ]
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I'm close.
[ he tells her, has to resist folding his hand over her own to get her to speed up. his breath is already rapid, chest flushing. when he licks his lips he can taste her, and it makes his mouth wet. ]
Speed up.
[ he instructs. he can already feel the swell of it, dick convinced it's got something to fuck into, and he's starting to hump at her hand. sometimes it does this when he mounts pillows, too, and he always has to— ]
[ he drops his own hand, makes a circle around the base of his cock with his thumb and forefinger, squeezes it up against his knot to let his body think it's ties. his voice has gone high, frantic. ]
Keep going. Fuck.
[ and then, shuddering, he comes all over her hand and his thigh and the bed. it's a huge load, and he continues to squeeze himself and whimper as it drools from him. everything is bright and oversensitive, and he hasn't come like this in — years and years. ]
Keep going.
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cora tightens her grip just so and begins to pump her arm almost in time with her heartbeat. he arches into her hand and lydia decides this is plenty sexy, if not a little unconventional. it doesn't even feel weird anymore, though she's perplexed for all of a moment when her hand starts bumping against his on the downstroke.
she wants to look, but had made the unspoken promise to him and sworn to herself that she wouldn't. so she doesn't, but can't help thinking she'd quite like to see his face next time he comes.
it's the smell that hits her first; hot and musky and thick. it's like the bathroom all over again, except this time it's all over her hand instead of the tiled shower wall. it's not awful; just hot, and promising a little sticky if she lets it dry. keep going he implores again, and cora's got no problem squeezing him through every second of his orgasm. even once she thinks he's done, she loosens her grip and keeps stroking at a slow, almost lethargic pace. ]
Do you feel better? [ she asks his shoulder blades, even as her ears tune more for his heartbeat than his voice. ]
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Mm.
[ better isn't quite— but he feels good, a wash of euphoria that has him leaning further back into her arms and yawning. ]
Yeah. Thanks.
[ she doesn't sound disgusted, but he can see his guilt on the horizon, like the line of a tsunami in the distance. it's abstract right now: he's more focused on her behind him. she seems to know what she's doing where he doesn't, so he just puts himself in her hands. ]
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oh my god that link lmao
310% accurate, amirite?
absolutely.
Re: absolutely.
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