itinere | open | so I keep doin' my own thing; walkin' tall against the rain

Entry tags:

{criminal minds: derek morgan

open | so I keep doin' my own thing; walkin' tall against the rain

Derek had somehow gotten away with not getting sick more than a headache that was just getting worse and worse as time moves on. It was never so bad that he couldn't work though it though, not as bad as so many others in the city (knock on wood). So every morning he went into the rec center to put in a full day's work. Every evening he went to check on those people he knew here in Itinere who were sick. He took them food and medicine and whatever else they might need. And he tried not to get sicker himself.

At the rec center, throughout each day, Derek stayed busy. Some days he worked with the treadmills, weights and parallel bars. Some days he worked with the punching bag and settled in a training room to go through his judo moves. Some days he did laps in the pool. Some days he was out on the basketball courts shooting some hoops.

Every day, he helped out whoever came into the place. While people are sick, after people are feeling better. Derek is there.

When Derek isn't at the rec center he can be found around the City in various places. Sometimes he's at the market picking up odds and ends. Sometimes he's at the park walking or jogging on the trails with earbuds in his ears, music from his iPod blaring loudly in his ears. Sometimes he's driving down the streets and up into the twists and turns of the roads in the mountains on his bike from home, which had magically appeared recently. Sometimes he's stopping at the burger joint, because Derek has a hard time resisting a good burger now and then. But really, who doesn't?

ooc: Open catch all for Derek all the way into June. So even if you're sick, you can chat with him when you aren't sick anymore too.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

At first sight, Derek just stares, his lips parted just enough to show he's seeing something new, something he's never seen before. That latex hugs her like a second skin. And wow does it accentuate her breasts, pushing them up so that the mounds push over the low neckline. Sometimes Derek can't decide if he's a breast or an ass man. Right now he's both.

She nears him and he nods slightly, still having trouble looking up and into her eyes. Yes, use his safe word. Honesty. He hears her. But damn... look at her. He can just make out the bulge of her cock too and that sends something spiraling right down to his own exposed length, making it twitch to life. Is that normal? Yes. Maybe.

He sits up, leaning forward once she reaches him from the bathroom. That finger at his chin finally gets his gaze to raise from the rest of her to her eyes. It still takes him a beat to find his voice. "You look..." His hands reach out to grab each side of her hips, feeling the latex beneath his palms. "So damn hot."

"Good," she says in a near-purr. "Now, lover. Come with me," she tells him, taking his hand and urging him to his feet. "You get to pick one thing from the trunk. One thing you'd like me to use on you." She stands back, not pressuring him and letting him make the choice. "Then bring it back to me."

She'll overtly objectify him in this moment. The curve of his body, his muscles, his beautiful cock. It all makes her hard too, though it is never about her in these moments. It's all about him.

With his hand in hers, he stands up and is just a little bit struck by the fact that he is naked and she is not. It feels strange but he pushes that aside to move with her closer to the trunk. So she's leaving the decision up to him. For some reason, he hadn't expected that. But he revels in the control of his own destiny as he stares down into the trunk.

It's difficult to concentrate then, when she lets go of his hand and steps back to overtly look him over. His gaze follows her instead of looking into the trunk of its own accord. He has no idea why he needs to see her reaction, see what she's thinking, what she's doing, but he does.

"Like what you see, pretty girl?" He asks, confronting the fact that he has nothing on without shying away from it, as he tries to do with everything else.

"You bet I do," she tells him, smiling. But she nods back toward the trunk. "Go on now. Pick." It's often misconstrued about BDSM that it's all about control. That the domme utterly controls the sub. But what's missed in that is that it's the domme's responsibility to care for the sub and that means, really, that the sub has the control. Anyone who doesn't get that is doing it wrong (and plenty of people do it wrong, Venus knows this).

But she sits on the edge of the bed and crosses one long leg over the other. "Choose, lover."

Satisfied for the moment, Derek looks back into the trunk. He skips over the rope. Because that implies being restrained in some way that he isn't sure he's prepared for yet. It isn't that he's completely against it, he just has to fully trust for that and a part of him is still holding back from that kind of trust. He needs to be able to break free if he needs to. The scarves, he can't tell if they're about restraint or not. So he leaves them be, the cuffs as well.

He thinks about the dildo, the one Venus had said was her favorite. But he has one of those, not one that lights up like that, but he has one, nonetheless. He's determined to jump into the deep end with this. Something new then. Maybe one of the paddles or floggers or those feather things.

Finally, before he can put too much thought into it that would talk him into going with the familiarity of the dildo, Derek grabs one of the padded paddles and brings it over to her. "How's that?"

Even while he's clearly aroused, his insides are a mess of nerves. What's gonna happen? What will happen? What's gonna happen? He has to repeat 'let go' in his mind, over and over and over to maintain a calm on the outside. Letting go is hard, but she's already given him a preview that says if he does, it will be a wonderful thing.

"If this is the one you want, it's perfect, of course, lover," Venus tells him, taking the paddle from him and running the padded leather over her hand. She stands then, gesturing with her free hand to the bed. "On your hands and knees. We'll start easy, yes? How many do you think you can take, mmm?" she asks, not that she's going to hurt him, of course; she's already said that. But this is about Derek learning what works for him and what doesn't. Will he over-estimate? Under estimate? Will he come? Inquiring minds want to know.

Derek glances to the bed and back to Venus. How many can he take? He leans in and brushes his lips to hers as he tries to come up with a number. Derek is always overly confident, even when he knows he probably shouldn't be. Part of that can sometimes be an act. But that saying fake it until you make it definitely applies to him. A lot of his confidence is very real.

A kiss then, before he turns to the bed and starts to crawl on. He stays there on his hands and knees, feeling a low vibration in his belly. Because he's on his hands and knees.

"Fifty." He says finally, glancing back to her with an arched brow. Too much? Too little? Just right? Fifty seems like a lot when it comes to getting hit with something. And Derek has no idea what to expect really.

Truthfully, she was thinking ten. But this might be a very interesting test. Communication and consent.

First, she just runs her hand over that sweet ass. So pretty. She gives it a pinch, arching a brow. "This is mine, isn't it, lover? All mine? Are you ready, then?" She is. She feels good. She feels alive. She feels cared for. Quite remarkable, really.

The question, of course, is somewhat rhetorical and she pulls the paddle back. "I need you to count for me, lover." And she brings the paddle down against Derek's ass.

He likes that touch, her palm gliding over his skin. The pinch is unexpected and makes him flinch in surprise. But nothing gets to him so much as those words. The silky smooth way she says them, the words themselves, it's like they're tethered to his cock, stroking over him and making him hard, surprisingly so. She's asking if his ass is hers.

It takes him a moment to respond, as surprised as he is by his own body's reaction to what she's just said. "It's yours, pretty girl." His tone is deep and husky, more so than usual.

Just as he's about to answer her to tell her that he's ready, the paddle hits his backside. Hard. His entire body jerks with it and he barely thinks about counting except as an after thought. Hot damn, he's letting someone spank him... with a paddle. He's letting Venus spank him. It's crazy. It's thrilling. It's erotic in a way Derek hadn't fully grasped that it would be.

"One." He finally says once he's breathing easier again.

Damn, he's pretty like this. Venus hums low in her chest. It's not been enough to heat his skin yet, but it will be soon. He does exactly like she's asked and he's so good.

So, Venus brings the paddle down again and again, keeping a slow, steady rhythm. It lets him say no if he wants, lets him call stop if he wants and she waits to hear the number each time before she brings the paddle down again.

His skin gradually takes a pretty rosy underglow. She just wants to lick it, he's being so good.

It's at the fifteenth hit that Derek starts to really feel the inevitable sting. There had been ghostly stings that were there and gone, but this lingers even as he says the number, even as she brings the paddle down again. Sixteen, he says. What number are they going to? Fifty? Oh damn.

And still, even with the sting, he feels the arousal that comes with an act like this, the arousal that comes with a man like him letting anyone, let alone a woman like her, do this. It's a strange mixture of pleasure and pain that he doesn't quite know what to do with.

Can he keep going? Yes. He'll keep going. "Seventeen." He says around a wince and a gasp of air when the paddle comes down again.

His voice is noticeably different. Venus didn't expect them to go past ten, remember and she is not going to do anything that hurts him. So, after eighteen, she runs her palm over his skin. She has to trust that he'll safeword if he needs to, that he'll be as honest with her as he promised he would be.

He is, though, she thinks, going to have a hell of a time sitting down tomorrow. She smiles just a little.

She doesn't lighten nineteen - that would insult him - but she does watch his face. Her hips ache, she wants him so badly for this. Venus's cheeks are flushed and there is the slightest sheen of sweat at her brow. "You are gorgeous, lover. Gorgeous."

Her palm over his irritated skin is somehow both soft and rough at the same time. He realizes, belatedly, that it isn't rough at all. The touch just draws out the stinging sensation, and not in a bad way. In fact, he realizes he's subconsciously pressed back against it.

There is no discounting the fact that sitting tomorrow will be difficult. He'll feel this for awhile.

At nineteen, he winces again, his entire body jerking with the blow. And at twenty, he somehow hears himself saying 'okay wait. wait...' even if it doesn't entirely sound like his own voice saying it, with the strange mixture of discomfort and arousal he feels right now. He's supposed to say something. What is it again?

What he says works, really. Venus lets the paddle drop to the bed and she leans forward, running her palm this time over his head, turning his chin to look at her. "Are you safewording, lover?" she asks, and her expression is gentle. There is nothing wrong with safewording, not ever. He's been so good.

Derek hesitates here, unsure that he really wants to safeword, almost feeling as if to do so would make him weak. He has a problem with being seen as weak or with feeling weak. He wants to make it to fifty so bad, just to prove a point to himself. A completely unnecessary point.

In truth, he isn't thinking all that straight right now. His cock his hard and heavy between his legs. His ass is throbbing and stinging. His heart beats loudly in his chest and his own breathing is gasped into his lungs.

Is he safewording? "I don't know. Maybe." He looks at her, pupils dilated and yet still intense. "Touch me." He tells her. It's possible that he's doing this all wrong.

Really, there are some who think that there is just one way to do this. Venus isn't one of those people. She smiles when she meets his gaze, the affection and care she feels apparent on her face.

"Tell me, lover," she says, fingers trailing down his spine. "How do you want to be touched? Be specific." She drags a nail - just lightly - over his reddened skin.

As her fingers slide down his spine he leans into it like a cat, spine arching up and then down again until she finds that angry skin at his ass and it's everything he can do not to wince at the stinging sensation. Has he ever felt so much all at once? He doesn't think so.

Her question is so open ended, and he is so lost in every sensation right now, that he can't pinpoint any one thing he wants. A million different touches and positions enter his mind. Everything in that chest at the end of her bed flashes through his mind. It's a spiral downward into an abyss he can't find a way out of.

So instead of say anything, he gets up to his knees, his backside protesting the movement and he reaches out for her to try to pull her close and kiss her.

"That isn't using your words," she protests lightly, smiling even as she moves with him into those kisses.

One kiss, then she leans back, shaking her head. "Tell me, lover. You have to tell me."

She wants to see, really, if he can. If there are words he can use to tell her what he wants.

The truth is that Derek isn't sure he can put anything into the correct words right now. He just let her spank him with a paddle and is still feeling the remnants of that, like his bones are rattling from the inside out. Maybe he's a little overwhelmed. Maybe he's a lot out of his element. Maybe he thought about the dildo that she had said was her favorite and remembered she has one built in.

So he falls back on what he knows, on what comes naturally to him. "I wanna make you feel good, baby. Come on."

His fingertips slide down her side to her hip where he squeezes and pulls her close again. He kisses her again. "I can make you feel so good." He whispers against her lips.

"I know you can, lover, but this is my turn. It's my turn to make you feel good. So I want to do that." Venus frames his face with her hands and smiles at him, still tasting his kiss on her mouth. "Do you want to make love to me? Do you want my mouth on you? Do you want to be inside me? Or me inside you? Tell me. I want to give that to you."

She knows what it is to feel overwhelmed, and she's here with him. And she'll keep being here with him as long as she can.

She holds his face in her hands and he's forced to try to focus on her, his tongue slipping out to glide over his own lips and then pull his bottom lip through is teeth. Focus. Focus. Focus. His mind slips back to the dildo in the chest. And when he thinks about her fucking him a bundle of anxiety settles in his belly. He can't tell if it's good anxiety or bad just yet.

Is that what he wants? He's never, ever had that when he wanted it. So the lines are blurred and he has no idea what the actual answer to that is. Does it make him wrong to want it? Carl Buford really did a number on him in that area.

The bottom line is that Derek wants something inside. Normally it would be a dildo but right now he has Venus offering herself. "I want you." He whispers the words so softly that they're almost just mouthed. "Inside." He almost adds 'please don't hurt me', but swallows those words down because he's still that man trying to be stronger than he'd once been. Those words sound weak in his mind. And he won't be that.

Weakness is entirely subjective, really. Venus would hardly think less of Derek if he said that and she will be extra gentle with him anyway; her knowledge of what he's experienced and her fondness for him will have her taking extra care.

"Thank you," she tells him, for finding the words, "for telling me and for trusting me. I promise you, lover, that I will make you feel amazing. Lie back."

On his hip, not on his back, since his pretty ass will be a little tender. When he's on his side, she urges his top leg just that little higher and reaches for some lube (conveniently located in the bedside cabinet, of course). She can slick some fingers then, warming it before she settles on her side, facing him for a moment. "I am going to use my tongue first, if that's all right, lover. Then my fingers. Does that sound all right?"

Maybe, just maybe, Venus can teach him what real strength is over time. Deep down, underneath it all, he knows that he isn't that scared little boy anymore. But sometimes, like now, those thoughts and manipulations seep into things beyond where they should be. You can think you're over it, that you've moved past it, but then there it is staring you in the face.

Derek does that, lying back and only catching himself at the last moment when the sheets just brush his stinging backside. He looks up at her as he settles on his side on his hip rather than on his hip. This is okay, right? She hadn't said so. But he's gonna assume until she tells him differently.

She's facing him and Derek likes that he can see her right now. She's beautiful and sexy and she's made him feel alive, on fire, like he's flying. There is nothing not alright with that. "Your tongue? Yeah, I' okay with that." The way he asks that initially, probably makes it clear that he's never had anyone's mouth back there.

That's partly why she's doing it, you see. Because it's a most delicious way to be reintroduced to sensation back there.

"You stay right here," she tells him, kissing his mouth and giving him a smile. "I'll make you feel so good, baby."

Then she's moving, keeping a hand on him so he knows where she is, letting him lie there in what she hopes is a relaxed, comfortable position. She's slicked some of her fingers, which she uses to tease his balls just a little, then she's pressing kisses along the back of his thighs, moving slowly, easily, letting him adjust. He knows what to say if he wants her to stop, after all.

Eventually, when she starts in, it's with wet kisses first, fingers pulling his asscheeks apart carefully, then flicks of her tongue.

Derek meets that kiss, reaching for another one even as she moves. And when he can't reach anymore, he swallows hard past the nerves that seem to have settled in a dry lump in his throat. It helps that she never quits touching him, a reassurance because Venus's touch is unlike any he's ever known.

He lies down on his stomach as her slicked up fingers toy with his balls, one leg bent up just a bit, just enough to give her the minimal room to play. The muscles in his thighs seem to twitch and jump with each kiss, each touch of her lips to his skin. His entire body, his entire self, feels over-sensitized hyper aware of everything in the moment.

And then she touches those reddened cheeks to push them apart and his backside jerks up off of the bed for a brief moment with the stinging sensation that's quickly dispelled by the feel of her tongue back there. Derek inhales a sharp breath of air.

"Oh damn..." He whispers the words so quietly.

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject