I’m being told to go to bed. Due to shitty sleeping last night and being up for 19 hours, ish?
And to make a Stiles account for shits and giggles. suckasaywut.
So. I’m going to bed. I’ll be on sometime tomorrow. Hopefully for most of tomorrow, actually. Though, I have a little running around to do and a few minor touches on the art piece I am doing. You all should have me all tomorrow afternoon/night.
ooc; boohiss. >:|
he never does anything kid related actually unless with ava :|
i never use went. ha
ooc; we should fix this.
[ Derek feels the tension and feels the fidgeting. Either Stiles was getting jittery or something was — Yup. Off.
He leans back, looking at the options the other had laid out.
The table itself would break from Derek. The sofa — well, it had been used before. The bed: always. The floor? Well, it was clean, but that left them up for attack of their dog. ]
"Blame instinct, I guess."
[ This is muffled against Stile’s skin. His mouth still hovering; going from the crook of his neck, along his chin and jaw, to along his neck and soon to his collarbone. He was adamant about staying overly close.
But even with said notion, again, the wolf is hoisting his mate up with hardly any effort. He avoids the sofa — or the carpet because rug burn — or the tile given that would hurt back and knees, and actually settles Stiles’ rump gently against the table. Whatever was actually on it being knocked away without much care.
Anything and all things materialistic could — and would — be replaced. ]
— I make sure to avoid the upstairs with any said noises.”
"Or, y’know. Just get the hell out of the house with the excuse of patrolling and tell Stiles to leave Jareth alone because he’s studying.”
and letting it fall where it may. A deep groan vibrates through the human and he lowers his head to rest his forehead against the wolfs shoulder as the other goes about marking and scenting him, in whatever way he could. Hands making light work of the button and zipper of Derek’s jeans as he does.
[ He was glad for the fact that the belt doesn’t land on his toes. Because, ow. And the last thing he needed was to be swearing and kneeing the counter top in the process.
As the restrictive qualities of his pants begin to ebb, the more enthusiastic the wolf seems to get. He goes from simple bites to more intensive ones; meaning teeth sink in without breaking skin. Along with suction happening each time he decides to clamp his mouth around the same spot. Each time a dark mark was left, he flattens out his tongue to lick at the same area; an apology or to sooth the heated flesh.
— Mineminemine —
Derek wriggles his hips, as if to help get the material off of his own lower half. One of the man’s hands darts down between them — hopefully not knocking against the younger male’s own — and attempts a few swipes at the other’s jeans to get them at least unfastened. ]