I want moooooooooooooore fic like that. So badly. Because Derek is a born beta and his personality does *not* at all seem dominant to me in the slightest. He gives to Peter so *easily* in s1 and s2 (well, in s1 before he realizes that Peter murdered Laura in a premeditated fashion) and he is SO AMAZINGLY BAD at being a leader partly because he isn't. He isn't designed for it. He's the strong presence standing at the left shoulder, he's the arm that stretches out to do what the words cannot. He isn't the person who makes the decisions, and I really think that's true for sex, too.
I've always thought Derek was a quiet, intense boy growing up. He may have laughed more, but he was a loner and I think he would do anything to help people. Little stuff, nothing attention grabbing, just small acts of assistance and kindness done because he *could* and the person he was helping couldn't. And I see that following him to the bedroom, to be focused on his partner's pleasure, on doing what it is they want. After the fire, I can totally see that including pain and restraint, both as punishment and as comfort, release from what builds up, ragged and raging as a waterfall, inside of him. He needs the momentary flares of pain, of marks that heal too slowly because they're never quite deep enough. He needs to focus of someone telling him to go here, to sit, good boy, to spread himself wide with his own fingers so that he's complete exposed. He *wants* that, I think, and he can't have it in Beacon Hills at all.
Or at least, not on a steady basis.
And I think Stiles could be dominant. I could see him going into pain play, but I could also see him just wanting to *have* something, to possess it in a way that soothes something inside of him. Stiles can be cruel and I have no doubt he'd do things just because he can, with Derek, because Derek can take it, but I also see a side of Stiles that will stand back when someone he loves needs him to, will be kind to them, or at least try, even when there's no hope. So I can see him being aware that there are lines and learning not to cross them.
Also, jfc, I want this fic so badly but I cannot write it. I can't even finish the derek-wolfed-out fic I wrote and it is GOOD god dammit.
There is a faucet in my head. It's starting to drip and I occasionally can even turn the damn knob, but then it gets stuck again and all I'm left are the drips.
And then I remember why Chinese water torture is one of the worst there is.
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Date: 2013-01-07 09:47 pm (UTC)I've always thought Derek was a quiet, intense boy growing up. He may have laughed more, but he was a loner and I think he would do anything to help people. Little stuff, nothing attention grabbing, just small acts of assistance and kindness done because he *could* and the person he was helping couldn't. And I see that following him to the bedroom, to be focused on his partner's pleasure, on doing what it is they want. After the fire, I can totally see that including pain and restraint, both as punishment and as comfort, release from what builds up, ragged and raging as a waterfall, inside of him. He needs the momentary flares of pain, of marks that heal too slowly because they're never quite deep enough. He needs to focus of someone telling him to go here, to sit, good boy, to spread himself wide with his own fingers so that he's complete exposed. He *wants* that, I think, and he can't have it in Beacon Hills at all.
Or at least, not on a steady basis.
And I think Stiles could be dominant. I could see him going into pain play, but I could also see him just wanting to *have* something, to possess it in a way that soothes something inside of him. Stiles can be cruel and I have no doubt he'd do things just because he can, with Derek, because Derek can take it, but I also see a side of Stiles that will stand back when someone he loves needs him to, will be kind to them, or at least try, even when there's no hope. So I can see him being aware that there are lines and learning not to cross them.
Also, jfc, I want this fic so badly but I cannot write it. I can't even finish the derek-wolfed-out fic I wrote and it is GOOD god dammit.
There is a faucet in my head. It's starting to drip and I occasionally can even turn the damn knob, but then it gets stuck again and all I'm left are the drips.
And then I remember why Chinese water torture is one of the worst there is.