a/n Uhh...no. Totally didn't write this. Not at all. Why would you think that? It's...mature, so just keep that in mind, I guess. It's also a lot edited from the original (thankfully).
The kink was (which I didn't write) : Derek discovers items of bondage in Casey's room and decides to surprise her. Dom!Derek. Written for tweendom_anon meme.
It's three in the night again so I have something to blame! Yay! And for anyone who cares, I swear the next thing will be an update on 'Distraction'.
It's all her fault.
Her underwear drawer, like Switzerland, is a neutral area. After all, he can't be expected to buy gifts for his girls-of-the-week, when she has a whole drawerful of these flimsy, un-Casey-like things, which she will obviously not be wearing. So if you look at it the right way (his way) he is being…incredibly mature and working at saving money in these depressing times of recession.
Besides where exactly did she think she was going to be wearing that red bra and panty set that she'd just brought? That new (moron) guy of hers had a heart problem (or would have, once Derek was finished with him) and seeing her looking like a…troll would put him in the E.R. for sure. So, whichever way you look at it, he's totally doing her a favor.
Which is why he was here, on a Saturday night, riffling through her drawer that she'd recently began (unfairly) locking. (Which part of 'Neutral Territory was too hard for her to comprehend?) However, years of unlocking her door when she'd been sleeping at night (and dying all her clothes green) had made him an expert at Casey-locks.
It's only after half an hour of thorough searching (it takes half-an-hour because they were all so…stupidly floral and vanilla-ish…and Casey smelling and that was enough to make his heart jump somewhere in the middle of his throat because…because he wanted to puke. Really) it finally dawns on him that he's been conned. She has somehow (nefariously) managed to hide that particular pair.
But he isn't a master scammer for nothing.
After a brief (but intense) trip down Casey's crazy head ("Where would she hide something she wouldn't want found?") he finds himself in possession of a box that undoubtedly holds that set.
He opens the box in anticipation and…
…and stares blankly inside.
He's staring at her, and his salivary glands seem to have suffered an early demise (may they rest in peace) because his mouth is completely dry and this…this cannot be what he thinks it is.
And it's the scratchiness of her voice that penetrates through the fog in his mind (because this …and that heart-patient boyfriend…and her?) and he's clenching his fists.
"You don't need to," and he seems to have caught a cold since the time he last spoke, "I'm on the regular customers list at 'Experience', Casey. How nice to meet a fellow worshipper."
"This…really isn't what...you're thinking…I…"
He's waiting because (he's fucked-up) any explanation that doesn't involve her and that guy (and that red underwear set) will be good to hear.
Her cheeks are flushed and her breathing is labouring slightly with panic, and his mind is somewhere else entirely, where something other than embarrassment is making her look that way (when he's making her look that way) and his jeans seem to have shrunk suddenly.
"I don't have to explain anything, and what are you doing in my room anyway?"
But he's still staring at her and he can see her façade crumbling before his eyes and he knows just one look is enough to make her spill all her secrets.
"It's research. I'm researching…"
"Researching…" he repeats, his voice dripping sarcasm, "Oh, I get it. 'How to Go From Being a Prude to a Slut in Ten Days.' An original article by Casey McDonald."
(And yes, he gets that he has no right to grudge her something that he enjoys so much himself. But his anger seems to have short-circuited the wires in his brain).
She looks up at him and she's whispering but he still hears it, "It's for a…a fanfic."
"Fanfiction you moron," (so his face did give him away), "It's when people take previously created characters and use them in stories/situations of their own making."
And he might not understand what fanfiction is but he does understand that it's not related to heart-boy and he's suddenly warm again (maybe he's running a fever).
And then it strikes him.
"What kind of fanfiction?" His mouth twists into a half-grin and by her long draw of breath he knows he's gotten to her. (Because really, what kind of fic would need these…ties?)
"That's none of your business."
"So you're writing an… erotic fic." And this really shouldn't make him as happy as it does. But he wasn't aware she even knew that sex wasn't just another word for gender.
She's blushing again and his stomach is twisting in the strangest way (because only for a second, Casey is lying before him, her hands bound to the bedpost, her hair spread behind, his finger making her…), he puts it down to a stomach infection.
"Go away. Haven't you humiliated me enough even to your satisfaction?"
"I can help." It's drawn out of him in a whisper and she's immediately stiff, her eyes wide."
"In your research" (and he hopes the pounding in his head isn't audible) "…I can help you."
"I don't need any help." She snaps back, "I'm leaving the fic. I just wanted to experiment with new genres, but it's not worth…this."
"You're going to admit defeat? Leave something…unfinished?"
And he knows he's goading her beyond endurance point, because her eyes are bright with his challenge. If there's something he knows about her, it's that he's the only one who can make her lose control. Do things she'll never do otherwise, because winning against him is her ultimate aphrodisiac
"I'll manage on my own."
"Really," he drawls, "how exactly, may I ask?"
"Like this", and she's snatched the box away from him, taking the silky ties in her hand (and he's afraid to breathe, to shatter this moment and anyway he seems to have forgotten how to).
She's tying her legs to the bars at the end of her bed, spread apart (and maybe it's the madness of the hour.) and then she's lying straight on her bed tying one hand to (oh god) the other end of the bed (and oh fuck) and staring at him definitely through those (too) blue eyes. "See."
He's swallowing thickly, his voice low, "And…now?"
She raises her free hand in the air in a gesture which might mean anything (and goddamn her, he wants her to say it).
"What?" he repeats.
"Now, I touch myself…" her face is one with the red bedspread, "… because I have to write from Alex's point of view. How she feels. So I can manage perfectly, thank you."
"Alex and Justin", she visibly clamps her mouth shut, "It's just a show."
(Except Marti watches 'Wizards' and forces everyone in the near vicinity to watch along. And Alex and Justin? But they're…)
And that (fuck siblings) more than anything makes his feet propel toward her.
"So…" he lowers his voice, "I haven't got what I came to get."
She blinks in confusion at the subject change, "What?"
"Your new red underwear set."
She tries to sit up, indignantly, but the ties pull her back (oh fuck, no) "You're not taking any more of MY…things for YOUR girlfriend, you jerk!"
He puts a "thinking" hand to his chin, "Okay. I'd just thought it'd be…easier to forget this night…if I had that."
She sighs in defeat (and he grins inside), "Fine."
"Where is it?"
"I'm wearing them." (And it's exactly according to his script.) "I'll just go take them off in the bathroom."
She unties the knots of her hand. Or tries to. Too bad she hadn't judged the tying power of those silk bands in advance (didn't she know anything about the game?)
She refuses to look up at him, "Can you…?"
"But you were supposed to manage on your own, Case. I think it's rather unfair if I help."
"So how am I going to give them to you?" She's practically shouting in frustration. At a low volume.
He does the "thinking" face again (which he totally doesn't practice in the mirror), "Since that's something I want. I think I have the right to…."
And then his hand is tying up her other one till she's re-created his fantasy (which he totally didn't have) and then they're on her shirt buttons. Fumbling in urgency and (fuck) his hands are shaking (and dammit, it wasn't supposed to be this way. He's never not in control).
"What are you doing?" She's staring, wide-eyed.
"Helping you." He says briefly (because as that red bra is coming into view, his ability to speak or breathe seems to be leaving). "Research, remember."
And then her shirt is hanging uselessly from her tied arms.
He's running his hands along her satin-covered breasts, and she's making a sound that makes his blood turn to alcohol.
"Am I arousing you…?" he's whispering, his breath cool upon her (still-covered) nipples.
"No," she manages, "It's just research."
He runs a thumb across the satin and (fuck) her nipples are so hard and maybe she wants…
"It's cold," she's saying, her breath catching on the words, "It's a normal reaction…to the…cold."
"Yeah", he says, "But maybe I should warm you up before. After all, you need to remember to write this all down later and Justin wouldn't want… Alex to be cold. It would ruin the mood."
He reaches behind her to unclasp the bra (sending a silent thanks to the ingenious mind that came up with strapless bras), but she refuses to get up.
"I'm not a wizard." He says sarcastically.
He catches a glimpse of triumph flash across her face (does she think she's winning this thing?)
"Well Justin is," she says, "And I think it's rather unfair if I help you, you know. It'll spoil the mood of the fic."
Well all that brain which he doesn't use in work has to be applied somewhere. He reaches down and slides his hand down her body, and presses his finger right there. She's still wearing her panties but he knows she feels it because she arches and he slides his hand behind her body, unclasping her bra at almost lightning speed.
"You…you…" she's speechless with fury.
"Sex god?" he says with ease (which just proves he's as good in front of the camera as behind it).
He laughs, "Casey, Casey, Casey, swine? Your mother-ship transported you to the wrong century."
And then he realizes (their sparring has a habit of making him forget everything else) that she's lying in front of him. Blushing and looking away like she doesn't want him to see, but he's finding it impossible to avert his eyes. And he wants her to want him to see. He wants to be the one she'll always remember when she writes anything. Reads anything. Breathes.
Their eyes are locked in a stare-down. Then he's slowly sliding a finger down her damp skin, drawing a fine line from the (unfairly) soft skin of her neck to the skirt that she's (still fucking) wearing. And she's twisting away, his feather-light touches burning (branding) her skin.
He bends down, his hands still marking her skin and then his tongue is following the route of his searching hands (and maybe he wrote his name on her skin, but she'll never know).
"Is it the cold that's turning you on?"
"Just because you know how to arouse a girl isn't a testament to anything but your lack of discretion in terms of anything wearing a skirt and my relative...inexperience in the particular field."
He's annoyed that she can still talk like she's swallowed a dictionary, so he flicks his tongue across her nipple and her corresponding sound almost makes his head explode, so he does it again. (He always was a masochist). He takes a nipple in his mouth and then her legs are trying to join, to rub there and get some friction but he only laughs.
"Justin wouldn't want to hurry things with his little sister. Isn't he some kind of a perfectionist teacher?"
And yes, she realizes he knows too.
"It doesn't mean anything." (It would be more powerful if her voice stopped trembling. Maybe he could give her a lesson in lying sometime).
But a strange anger makes his teeth graze across her nipple (and now tell him it doesn't mean anything).
His hand reaches to the top button of her skirt and then he's sliding it down her (long long, oh god she's a dancer) legs and then he's unashamedly staring because she's so fucking wet because of (for) him. And it makes something inside his chest catch almost painfully.
Almost of their own volition his fingers-tips are travelling across her leg, reaching further ever time but never there and she's arching in impatience (and fuck, he can't handle this).
And he's such a fucking loser (but she…she's begging. Casey's begging. Him.)
"Say it again."
She glares at him through half-lidded eyes, "I'm not saying it again."
He waits a moment, running his fingers across her bare skin (and whistling. No, really) and it takes her a minute, but finally..."Please, Derek...you're such an ass." She adds as an afterthought.
(Okay, he doesn't even need to make a joke out of that. It did the job well enough itself).
His traitorous fingers rub her through her panties and he never thought it was possible to get this turned on (because this is normal. This is what he always does. There's nothing different about this. Casey's just another…)
"Oh God. Derek, don't…"
(And he knows she's made herself forcibly shut before the "stop" but it makes him see red. Because he's damned if she's going to end that sentence at 'don't').
He slides her panties down her legs (and he's so cold, he's almost burning) and then he's touching and running his thumb across her clit and she's breathing (so, so) harshly. And she's trying to free her hands but she can't and he's watching her.
And then he stops.
She whimpers a little, still trying to rub her legs together.
"You said 'don't'…" he reminds her.
(Their stare-downs aren't that much different from what they used to be, every night across dinner, in school, everywhere. He wonders if it means anything. She knows, he's sure of it, because she ironically knows him better than anyone).
For once, she doesn't close her eyes (and maybe she isn't taking this as a defeat), "Don't…stop"
And he's lost the last shred of control that he's been pretending (because this was what it had been about, from the beginning. Since forever. She wanted him. Him) because he's between her legs, his mouth on her clit and he's sliding his fingers inside her making her make sounds that he'll probably never get out of his head and then she's tight around his fingers (no, oh god, please) and then he's reaching up and kissing her for the first time, his mouth hard on hers. And that gesture is enough to…
(The she's shaking hard, saying his name in this way that he's never heard before. His name.)
He lets her ride it out, his fingers still buried inside her because (she looks…she looks so…) and she's his step-sister (welcome back to the planet).
And then he bends down and tastes her (and all his thousand fantasy women get one face, and a certain way of saying his name. And he has a sickening feeling it's not only for today).
It's over (and she's lying there, her eyes closed, hands limp against the boards).
(And yes, this was a bad idea. Or would have been if he'd been thinking at all).
He's untying her (and her eyes are still closed, no, please, no) and he's turning away. Without the "underwear set" (because he wasn't fooling anyone anyway).
He's almost reached the door when, "Derek?"
He turns around (and she's still so wet and flushed, her hair completely messed up and his… stomach infection is worse than ever).
She looks straight at him, "You can't go before the research is complete, you moron. I can't complete the…story without Justin's part. His little sister is very stubborn, don't you know. She hates taking favours without appropriate…payback."
(And yeah, they're fucked really, but it's all right. It always has been).
Name: Ties That Bind
Fandom: Wizards of Waverly Place
Reviews for: Ties That Bind - Page 1 of 5
- ...u were so obviously getting off on this
- ...HOT, I could just FEEL it all like you're talking from experience or something
- ...Try not to use purple language so much, "So cold he was almost burning"? Um...that doesn't actually mean anything...
- ...Marry me! Or at least send me this guy whom you definitely took inspiration from! (And don't tell me you didn't, it was obvious).
- ...IT'S INCEST, PEOPLE. IT'S WRONG AND DISGUSTING AND...
- ....loved the pun on 'Ties that Bind' because it's a usual reference to family ties and the bondage items which is just all kinds of hot!
- ....got me all hot and bothered, lol
- ...awesome fic! Just a minor typo, instead of Justin and Alex, you've typed Derek and Casey at one place
- ... hot, but unrealistic
- ... wish I had this guy, too bad he's just a figment of our imaginations
- ...uhh -graphic- and made me feel a little voyeuristic, maybe restrain next time from all details and...
- ...your earlier stories made me feel you were a little...repressed but THIS...
- ...you're obviously twelve years old or something and all you know about sex and guys is from crappy romance novels. You'll be disappointed, believe me, it's not...
- ...WOW, you're on a roll, aren't you! I just read your other stories on role-plays and toys and…
- ...You've captured the whole dynamic and feeling of a taboo relationship very well. The emotions and feeling that it's…wrong, but impossible to resist.
- ...Justin is her brother. You've written step-brother in some places and I found it weird because I have a step-brother and it was just...eww...imagining him and me...
- ...GUH. HOT. ILY.
- ...I know it's a PWP, but the way you've written it and the dialogue and everything (and even though they never say the words even once) it just feels so much like it's...love or something. I think...
Page 1 of 5