"So," Stiles said, breaking the silence that had thickened the air in his basement. "I have a great idea for a game we can play," Stiles walked closer to the werewolf that was eyeing him angrily, growling softly in the back of his throat while he watched Stiles play around with a knife that was dripping (yes, literally dripping) with wolfsbane. Which was no fun, because, as you might already know, wolfsbane was not any good for werewolves. "It's called 'give the right answer or get hurt'. Now that I think about it, it's a very long name," Stiles pursed his lips, cocking his head to the side as he expected Derek's face for a while. "Aren't you going to ask me about the rules?"
"What are the rules?" Derek grumbled, not actually wanting to ask it but he would rather not have wolfsbane in his body at any time. He had enough experience over the years to tell you that it hurt like hell, and he didn't exactly want to be in any pain at the moment. (Not that he ever had moments that he did want to be in pain, but, you know, else this story is just not going to make sense so please just bear with me.)
"Well, first of all, and this is not a rule just for during the game, you are going to have to call me sir, okay?" Stiles said, smiling sweetly even though his eyes were telling Derek that this was not funny at all. Not at all, like, it was as funny as sticking an axe up your ass. Which is not funny, or at least I don't think it is. And if you do think it is, well, you should probably get yourself checked. "Do you understand that, dog?"
"Yes," Derek pushed out, nails digging into the palms of his own hands as he tried to control himself. Sure, he knew that he could definitely hurt Stiles and knock him out if he wanted to- if it weren't for the stupid collar that was around his neck, the same collar that was going to kill him if he were to make the wrong move and tug too hard on it, piercing his skin with it and getting the wolfsbane poison to flow into his blood and freaking kill him and he did not want that, no matter how bad he wanted to get out of this situation he wasn't willing to kill himself for it. "Sir."
"D'aw," Stiles cooed, giggling afterwards as he moved to sit down on the ground in front of Derek, "You might even get a treat if you'll keep on behaving like this," Stiles pursed his lips again, silent for a few seconds before he started talking. "Anyways, the rules. Well, luckily for you, they're really simple, that means you and your small brain might be able to understand them," Derek growled again, obviously not liking what Stiles was saying. "I'm just kiddin' with you, Derek, don't be such a sourwolf. So, the rules. First of all, you're only allowed to speak to answer my questions, okay? No talking if you're not asked anything. Well, technically seen, this is also a rule that will still be there outside of this game, but, you know, I thought it was worth mentioning since you don't seem to remember all the rules you have been taught when you were still a little adorable beta. The second rule is that you answer all of my questions honestly and with as much respect as you can possibly manage. I know that that will probably be very hard for you, but, please just try. It might even work, you'll never know. I think that actually concludes the rules for now, darlin'. Do you still remember them?"
"Yes, sir," Derek growled out, making Stiles chuckle and nod, reaching out to run his fingers through Derek's short hair softly, making the werewolf flinch only sightly, the spikes on the inside of his collar reminding him that he shouldn't move any more than that he was already doing right now. "Of course, sir."
"Good boy," Stiles retreated his hand, smiling softly while he moved his legs, sitting in a more comfortable position- or as comfortable as he could get on a cold and hard stone floor, which wasn't really as comfortable as anyone would think. "You have to help me remember to get you something like a dog bed, or maybe even a mattress if you're good. Wouldn't you like that? It's going to be a whole lot more comfortable with that underneath of that muscled body. Seriously," Stiles looked Derek up and down, looking as if he could see through Derek's clothing (which consisted out of nothing more than a pair of dirty blue jeans and a grey shirt that was as equally dirty as the pair of pants, it was the clothing that was given to the werewolves that were caught so that the clothes would all be the same and they wouldn't distract the buyers from the faces and bodies of said werewolves). "Where did you get all those muscles from?"
YOU ARE READING
Control Me - Sterek
Fanfiction"Freedom is a burden," The whiskey-eyed male drawled, kneeling down in front of Derek who growled in the back of his throat, eyeing his owner with red glowing eyes. "You should be glad I took it away from you."
