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lovebugism · 6 months

Note

Hi! Could I pls request a Steve x shy!reader drabble? Maybe they’re a bit of a bookworm and they have a meet cute at a library or bookstore or something ☺️ I love your fics, and I hope you’re having a good day! 💛

i've been working on this wip for ages but i loved this request too much not to finish! thanks for being patient with me anon!

summary: steve hopeless romantic harrington meets shy!reader at a bookstore and fluffy awkwardness ensues (meet cute, strangers to lovers-ish, fluff, 2.1k)

fictober (㇏(•̀ᵥᵥ•́)ノ)

Five hours go by like minutes, tucked away in the back of the library — your own little corner of the world.

Because all your spare cash went to groceries and good food (and the newest Margaret Atwood novel just dropped), you hide in the back of the bookstore and get lost in the nostalgic earthy scent of the thick pages you’ve been waiting ages to read.

You sit between the dystopian and gothic fiction aisles, back propped against the former with your knees folded to your chest, and speed-read as much as you can before closing.

The in-store café offers complimentary coffee and bagels. It’s lukewarm and a little cardboard-y, but it’s fuel nonetheless. You only get up once to use the bathroom and stretch your stiff limbs. Other than that very brief break, you’re relatively unbothered — until page 196, anyway.

“Where are the porno mags?” a male voice wonders from a few aisles down. It’s not the first voice you’ve heard all day, but it’s certainly the closest.

A feminine voice follows, nearer now. “There’s no porn, dingus. I was just saying that so you’d drive me here.”

“…That’s so fucked up.”

“You’ll get over it.”

“No, actually. I won’t. This might be the end of our friendship, now that I think about it.”

Their conversation draws closer and closer to you in time with their nearing footsteps. You figure they must be looking for a different section — certainly not the one you’ve had to yourself all day — but then they turn the corner of the aisle and stop short when they find you sitting there.

“Oh,” a pretty girl hums as she stares down at you, rouge mouth forming a softly pouted ‘o’ shape.

Her hair is a sandy color, like a beach, and it’s chopped at her shoulders. She wears a pair of slacks and suspenders over an oversized button-up. She looks like a character from a book you wish you could write.

She smiles down at you, a tad bit awkwardly. “Hello…”

“Shit— ” you curse, scrambling to get your legs out of the aisle. Your face burns as you bring your knees back to your chest. “I’m sorry.”

“No worries,” she shrugs and walks on by you.

A pretty boy follows.

His hair is a really specific shade of brown — like chocolate syrup mixed with honey. It’s pushed back over his forehead, messy with intention. A few strands hang over his thick brows like they’re meant to be there. He’s got a layer of scruff on his chiseled jaw that’s a shade lighter than his actual hair.

His wide eyes are a similar chocolate-syrup-honey color.

He’s almost annoyingly pretty. The kind of pretty that seems unfair.

“Don’t apologize to her,” the pretty boy jokes with a lopsided smile. “She’s a total bully.”

The pretty girl interjects. “Don’t listen to him. He’s an idiot. And stop bothering her, dingus— she’s obviously trying to read.”

You breathe out an awkward laugh through your nose.

You don’t want them to think you’re actually annoyed, but you don’t have the words to tell them that. You have no idea what to say to them, actually. They’re obviously far cooler than you are, and the notion almost threatens you.

The pretty boy doesn’t follow his pretty friend. He lets her roam the aisle, obviously in search of something, and leans against the gothic fiction section across from you.

“So, uh… What are you reading?” he asks.

You don’t trust your voice to answer him verbally, lest the words get stuck in your throat and make you sound like Kermit the Frog. You flash him the dystopic, renaissance painting-esque cover with a tightlipped smile.

“Handmaid’s Tale,” he reads with a squint, then nods. “Sounds fun.”

“It’s not,” the pretty girl scoffs. She thumbs through her own copy of the book that she plucked from the shelf. “It’s the one I was telling you about on the way over.”

The pretty boy’s face screws up in disgust. “Oh. The one with gross men?”

“The one with the gross men.”

He turns back to you, looking apologetic. “Sorry, I take it back. Not fun.”

You smile wordlessly in response.

“He’s Steve, by the way,” the pretty girl says to you, nodding to the pretty boy. “I figured if he’s gonna keep weirdly hovering over you, you should probably know his name—”

“I’m not hovering!”

“—You can call him dingus if you want. I’m Robin.”

“Hi,” you greet, quiet and mousy.

“Do you come around here often?” the boy — Steve — wonders, bushy brows pinched and burly arms crossed over his chest. “I feel like I’ve seen you before—”

“Ugh. Stop flirting with her.”

“I’m asking a question!”

You purse your lips to the side in attempts to hide your smile and your gaze back to your book.

They argue like a married couple. You wonder how long they’ve been together — six months or six years?

“Sorry about him. He’s not usually this annoying,” Robin quips with a playful twinkle in her deep ocean eye. She slams the book closed with a ringed handand walks back towards you. She pushes Steve ahead and away from you in the process. “Alright, I got the goods. Let’s go before they close.”

Your eyes widen as you look down at your wrist.

Ten minutes until eight o’clock.

You turn to the book once more and find that you’re about a hundred pages shy from the end of it. You tend to read like a maniac if you’re focused enough, but there’s no way you’re finishing it before closing.

“Shit…”

“You okay?” Steve asks, still lingering at the very end of the aisle, though Robin has already left for check-out.

You rise and straighten out your clothes — the very un-special sweatshirt and baggy jeans duo you’d changed into after work. It’s not unlike the navy blue henley and similarly colored denim he’s got on, but you don’t look nearly as pretty as he does.

“Yeah,” you shrug, not quite meeting his gaze as you return the book that feels like it only fits in your hands. “I just— I didn’t realize how late it was.”

You don’t expect to see Steve looking so concerned when you turn back to him. His brows are furrowed, honey eyes glinting in question. “You’re not getting it? You looked like you were almost done.”

“Oh, I don’t— I can’t…” you stammer then trail off, fidgeting awkwardly ahead of him.

You don’t want this pretty boy’s first impression of you to be that you’re completely and utterly broke. Even if this is the last you ever see of him, you’ll only be remembered as that one girl from the bookstore who couldn’t buy herself anything.

“I figured I could just come buy tomorrow and finish it…”

“Oh. Okay. Well, it was… it was nice meeting you, then.”

“You, too,” you murmur with a tightlipped smile, eager to get away from a moment you don’t feel very deserving of.

Out of every girl this pretty boy could’ve chosen, why did it have to be the one in the very back of the bookstore who was too poor to get anything other than a free coffee and bagel?

You chuck both in the bin as you head towards the exit.

The sun has almost finished setting when you leave — mostly disappeared over the skyline, but painting the sky a deep lavender shade unique to the twilight hour. You stand at the crosswalk — the man on the speaker shouting “wait!” at your side — as you anticipate the orange hand across the street to turn into a white stick figure.

“I told you she’d still be here,” a familiar voice sounds from a few paces behind you, mostly drowned out by the sounds of passing cars. A louder “hey!” follows. You only think the voice might be calling for you until it comes closer.

“Hey!” It comes again, louder now.

You look over your shoulder and find Steve from the Bookstore striding towards you.

Both happy and confused to see him, your wavering smile is paired with a pair of furrowed brows. “Hey…”

“Sorry, you just— you left this.”

When your eyes manage to flit away from his sculpted face — which you just noticed looks eerily similar to Michelangelo’s David — you find that he’s holding a book in his hands. Handmaid’s Tale. The same copy you were reading, dog-eared just like you left it.

Your contorted features never falter. “I didn’t…” you trail off with the shake of your head, laughing softly. “I didn’t buy that.”

“No, I know,” Steve shrugs with a crooked grin. “I did.”

You think he might be implying he bought it for you, but then you realize that’s crazy, because why would he do that for you? That’s the sort of thing that happens to girls in Brontë novels, not to you.

“Youdid?” you echo like an idiot because it’s all you can think to say.

“Yeah. ‘Cause, you know, you looked pretty interested in it and everything…”

“But you didn’t have to… You didn’t have to buy it for me—”

“It’s not a big deal. Seriously. I mean, it’ll save you the extra trip down here tomorrow, right?”

You meet his confident grin with a trembling one. “I can’t take it…”

“Well, if you don’t take it, that means I have to keep it, and—”

“He’s pretty much illiterate,” Robin calls from a little ways behind him.

She’s waiting by a pretty maroon car. It looks like a luxury model of some kind, shiny like it’s fresh off the lot. She leans against it like it’s hers, but Steve’s got the keys in his hand — the one not holding the book he bought for you.

“…I was gonna say I haven’t read anything since junior year of high school, but sure,” he concedes with a shrug. His eyes sparkle down at you— or maybe it’s just the street lamps flickering on. Either way, you feel your stomach whirling. He waves the book at you. “Take it. You’ll actually read it.”

“But…” you trail off, eyes flickering over to Robin. You step closer to Steve and lean in like you’re about to tell him a secret. “Won’t your girlfriend be upset?”

“Girlfriend?” the boy repeats with pinched brows. He goes soft with realization a second later, then starts to laugh. “No. Robin, she’s— No. She’s not really my type.”

“Oh. Shit. Sorry,” you stammer with wide eyes.

If cool, pretty girls aren’t his type, then there’s no way in hell you are.

Slightly comforted by his assurances, when he motions the book to you again, you take it.

“Well, thank you, Steve. That’s… That’s really nice.”

He shrugs again. “’S no big deal. Really.”

“But I feel a little bad,” you confess quietly, peeking at him from beneath your lashes while you fidget with the book in your anxious hands. “I feel like I should give you something in return, or, I don’t know, like—”

“You don’t have to do anything,” Steve assures with the shake of his head. He swipes a hand through the chocolate-honey locks and flashes you a smile that borders on shy. “But if you wanted to go out for coffee or something sometime, then I’d be willing to call it even.”

Your cheeks burn. You don’t know if you’re breathing anymore, or if you even can. A quiet smile quirks at the corner of your mouth as you nod. “Coffee sounds good,” you answer sheepishly.

“Cool,” Steve replies coolly, like he isn’t totally beaming down at you. “Then, just… call me whenever you’re free.”

“Oh, I don’t— I don’t have your number.”

His sneakers scuff against the sidewalk as he walks backwards to his car. He just nods at you, smiling gently as he argues, “Yeah, you do.”

Your brows furrow in confusion — because you most certainly don’t. He was a stranger to you a little more than ten minutes ago. You have no reason to have his number.

Realization settles over you like pinpricks down your spine, butterflies in your belly.

You open the front cover of the book and find several numbers written down at the very bottom of the cover page.

Call me when you finish, the note reads in half-legible chicken scratch. I’m not really a book guy, but I could probably hear you talk about them all day.

He signs off with his name, number, and a sloppy smiley face.

You don’t realize you’re beaming until you already are.

When you look back up at Steve, you find him standing at the open driver’s side door, already smiling back at you.

#published by bug #steve harrington x reader #stranger things x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #stranger things #stranger things imagine #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfiction #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fluff #st drabbles #stevie drabble #event: fictober!

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seokjinsonlyone · 1 year

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this how i think bts would be if you both knew you liked each other but you weren’t dating yet

a/n: you guys been looking forward to this one hope it lives up to your expectations 🥹👉👈 and you should like totally lemme know what you thought about it after you're done

namjoon:

calls you on the phone every night; asks about your day and genuinely wants to know every little detail no matter how insignificant; gets shy when you ask about his

always extends an invite to you to join him at a museum; he goes to so many so often so he understands if you can’t go every time but he really likes it when you can go; likes hearing your thoughts on different pieces no matter how ridiculous bc you’re really not that well versed in art and architecture; he also likes the look in your eye and how intently you listen to him when he actually explains the intent behind the art

wraps his arms all the way around you, completely engulfing you when you hug; gives you an extra squeeze and rubs circles on your lower back before letting go

pet names start slipping out willy nilly; beautiful, princess, pretty girl, lovely; like the more and longer he likes you the less your name come out his mouth

he got mad rizz dog; like everyone once in a while he's gonna hit you with a pick up line that catches you off guard; gon have you giggling and blushing; but he also will be giggling and blushing afterward bc he gets shy after being cute

lowkey wants your approval for everything; doesn’t NEED it but he’d like it tho for sure; like would let you listen to his unreleased music and wait with bated breath while you listened until you gushed about how good it all was

if someone came up to him while y’all were hanging out and started flirting with him he would not notice at all; you’d wait until he was done carrying on the conversation and (semi)jokingly be like “so when’s the date” and he’d be soooo confused; “huh?” “they were totally flirting with you!” “really?” “if they smiled any harder they cheeks would’ve split open and did you see how hard they were laughing? you not that funny joon 🙄” “i’m sorry i didn’t notice. i promise i wasn’t flirting back tho. the only person i wanna flirt with is you.”

seokjin:

turns red whenever you’re around; like just constantly feels called out even if no one said anything bc it’s like he knows how he feels, all his friends know how he feels, and most importantly you know how he feels; embarazzing

becomes your local fruit dealer; like whenever his family or friends give him a bunch of produce from their various farms you’re definitely on the list of people he gifts them too; he gives you a bigger share than his members too <3

sends you pictures of the food he cooks and always saves you a plate after hearing you talk about how good it looks

asks for your switch code and invites you to play games with him whenever he has down time; like will stay up to 4am playing mario strikers or nintendo switch sports with you

gets really good at origami bc one time you met up and he felt awkward not having anything to get you so he used the gum wrapper in his pocket to make you a paper airplane; now every time you meet up he has a new paper sculpture; like you end up with a whole drawer of paper hats, planes, cups, flowers, frogs, ninja stars; has a cute little message written inside that makes you smile each time you unfold them

overly helpful; like he tryna do whatever he can for you; he’s holding your bag, opening doors for you, at one point he even goes so far as to lay his jacket on the bench y’all sitting on so your butt won’t be cold 💀

his number one goal when y’all are around each other is to make you laugh; like it doesn’t really matter if you’re laughing with him or at him as long as he hears that cackle he considers the interaction a success

yoongi:

not used to initiating any kind of interaction (outside of work) with people so he just lingers around you and hopes something happens; takes you a while to realize that’s his way of asking for attention

pretty much willing to go along with whatever to make you happy; like if you were complaining about never having anyone to go to the store with he’d offer himself up so fast and that’s how you’d end up with him in ulta helping you pick out lashes

has to get scolded by seokjin repeatedly bc the one text he sent him in the past month was left on read but he replies to you almost immediately every time you message him

silently takes care of you; like if you were eating together and got choked up on something he's just gonna get up and get you a bottle of water then slide it over without ever looking you in the eye; or if you complained about your hands being cold he'd start carrying around those hand warmer pouch thingies waiting for the next time you said something then he'd just put them in your pocket

starts opening up to you 🥺

it may not last for long but when you’re speaking with him he’ll look directly into your eyes

his hands flinch a lot when you're around; sometimes he's just hit with the inexplicable urge to hold your hand or touch you in some sort of way but he hasn't quite figured out y'all's dynamic yet so he's afraid to go for it

hoseok:

becomes zendayafied; like if you think it’s bad with jimin… you ain’t seen the worst of it; you might as well be richard pryor at the apollo the way he be cracking up over any and every little thing you do; his laugh can be heard halfway across the world

he stalks your ig page and replies to all your stories with a series of emojis; shows them to his friends and goes on and on about how cute you are

sends you a bouquet of flowers and texts you a little later on asking if you got them so you send him a picture of you holding them and he responds “☹️ i was hoping you’d be in the pic but all i see are flowers”

notices the little things about you; like he’s the type to compliment your earrings or your nail color

thinks everything you do is like super great; like if you drew a little doodle on a post it note or something he's gonna keep it and in his phone case; like 100% the type to actually display a painting you did in his house even if you feel like it looks like an 8 year old did it

has a special hyper focus on you; i just imagine y'all being at a party and you're in a group and he's being hobi ya know chopping it up with everyone kekeing and the like and you could be there next to him but not really actively participating in the conversation but if you tried to slip away to like get a drink or whatever he would grab your wrist and licherally stop mid sentence to ask you where you were going; would leave the group to go do whatever you wanted to do as well

adds a bunch of heart emojis to your contact in his phone; [yn ❤️😍💜🥰💞😘💖🤩💓😚💘]

jimin:

buys you a scarf when it gets chilly bc he notices you never have one on and he doesn’t want you to catch a cold; personally wraps it around your neck himself before you go outside

perpetual flirt; like there's some kind of innuendo to everything he says to you

is able to pick up on your moods scary easily so he knows when you’re a bit off and lets you know he’s willing to listen if u wanna talk; whether you choose to take him up on his offer or not he gives a really big, tight, long hug which helps you out more than you’re willing to admit

is easily flustered by you; like if you told him you liked his hair or his sweater or something he's gonna do that thing he does where he looks down, smiles, and then hides his face

always trying to impress you; like if you told him you admired people who were good at art he finna brush up on his skills a little and then next time you see him he gon have a sketch pad in fron t of him doing some crazy doodles; or if you told him you liked his voice when you're around he'll be acting like he's being nonchalant playing it cool but be putting in mad effort humming one of your favorite songs adding in some jazmine sullivan type runs

tries to meet up with you as much as possible; like your presence is addicting to him and he wants to take in all that he can; definitely calls you at some point if he can't see you that day even if it's like 1am and you're definitely asleep he's gonna chance it and call you; "are you awake?" "no" "oh i'm sorry i'm sorry i just missed you today" "missed you too mini" "i bet you looked pretty" "thank you but you have to let me get back to sleep" "alright alright imma let you go but one more question" "what's up?" *starts giggling* "what are you wearing right now?😏" "😐 i'm hanging up" *giggles even harder* "okay okay i'm done i'm sorry for waking you sleep tight beautiful" "night mini"; and then he's awake for another hour and a half staring at the ceiling with a big smile on his face thinking about how much he likes you

always walks you to your door when he's dropping you off home and won't leave until you inside with the door closed even if you insist on seeing him off as well so you just gotta watch him walk off from the window

taehyung:

gets shy after complimenting you; the “you look really pretty today” to tata mic face pipeline is strong

goes out of his way to find out when you'll be at certain places and then acts like it's a coincidence when y'all run into each other

feels all tingly inside when you like something he recommended; like if he recommended you a song and you listened to it later and then texted him about how much you loved it you would not be able to wipe the grin off his face

he fishes for compliments from you; like will get all dolled up in his 3 piece suit, hair slicked back just bc he knows you’ll be around and wants you to tell him he looks nice; if you don’t initiate it he will; will stand next to you and be like “ahh i just felt like wearing this today, it’s my favorite one. i think it looks nice. doesn’t it?”

squishes your cheeks between his hands when he deems you as being too cute

takes an active interest in your interests; like if you were really into some group and you told him about it he'd go and listen to their songs and send you his favorites and if they ever toured he's definitely getting y'all tickets to their show; or if you really liked to do paper mache or something he's gonna set aside a day for you to show him how to do it

has his arm around the back of your chair when y’all sit next to each other bc he can’t work up the nerve to actually put his arm around you

jungkook:

walks so close to you that your hand bumps together with every step; takes about five minutes of contemplation and hand flinching before he takes your hand in his; probably puts your conjoined hands in his pocket; looks down at you for about five seconds to gauge your reaction but quickly looks away when you make eye contact; tips of his ears are red the whole time

invites you over to play with his dogs, literally; no funny business is happening; he can’t be with you like that when he likes you as much as he does not until y’all are official just so he has confirmation that you’re on the same page

he be staring at you; like whenever you not looking at him he’s looking at you; watching, observing, admiring, mentally cataloguing all your little quirks, stockpiling them for a rainy day (re: waiting for the right time he can jokingly imitate you)

sometimes it feels like it’s one step forward two steps back with him bc every time he reaches what he feels is “the next level” he has to stop and reevaluate his feelings so he gets distant; but when he’s sure of how he feels again he goes back to following behind you like a lil puppy

his crush on you gets fatter whenever y’all are in a group conversation bc you always notice when he’s trying to say something but can’t find the right timing and create an opening for him to speak

always sits next to you; like there could be 10 empty seats in a room and he's always gonna jam himself as close to you as possible even if he doesn't plan on saying anything

y'all would have a couple late night convenience store dates; like y'all would be on the phone at like midnight talking about how you're craving ramen and snacks and next thing you know he's offering to pick you up and then you sitting next to him in da local 7/11 wit a cup ramen, a diet coke, and some sour gummy worms; he'd lightly gasp and go stiff for a second before relaxing a bit if you randomly laid your head on his shoulder after you finished your food complaining about how full and tired you were; would go back and forth with himself over whether he should just wrap his arm around you but ultimately just decides on leaning his head against yours in return

#bts #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #kim namjoon fic #jungkook fanfic #jeon jungkook x reader #namjoon x reader #taehyung fanfic #seokjin fanfiction #kim seokjin x reader #yoongi x y/n #yoongi fanfic #yoongi fluff #hobi fic #j hope fanfic #hoseok x you #jimin fanfic #jimin x reader #kim taehyung x reader

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mochikitttyy · 2 years

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A little strawberry tea kitty I did for a little monthly challenge and some froggy nails I'm very proud of! ☺️

#traditional art #cute doodle #cottagecore #cute art #cat doodles #trading cards #shy little frog #froggy nails #cute nails

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chiiyuuvv · 4 months

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can you do bestfriends!riize who has a crush on you reacting to you calling them babe or baby? thank you and anyway i love your works!! it's so well written :]]

• PAIRING — bestie!riize x fem!reader

• GENRE — their a little slow.. fluff, my attempt at humor, honestly shit

• WORD COUNT — 462

• AUTHOR'S NOTE — sorry for not posting a bunch ive been working on some other stuff

• TAGLIST — @moonlightdarlings , @cake1box , @babigriin , @soul-is-a-strange-kid

MASTERLIST! – JOIN THE TAGLIST!

SHOTARO ☆

You had called him babe in of the members

Shotaros face red and his jaw dropped, along with the members looking around like, "their dating and their keeping it a secret?? 🤨"

Hes stuttering so much, someone help him.

Theres this stupid smile on his face and laughs bubbling out of him and hes staring at you with hearts in his eyes, hes so in love damn 😞

Definitely pulls you to the side, saying smth like "what are we??? :DD" praying on the inside you say "your girlfriend" ♡

EUNSEOK ☆

yes, you called him babe. Wait what????

"What?" Blinking at you repeatedly. give him a second hes malfunctioning

Lets out this smile that gives you the shivers, trying to calm down his racing heart

"No, youre just joking. Funny, actually."

Almost kisses you when you say you arent ♡

SUNGCHAN ☆

Goes along with it

"Yes im her babe whatcha gonna do huh?? 😡"

Drops down to his knees to kiss the back of your hand

What a damn minute..

YOU CALLED HIM BABE YOU CALLED HIM BABE YOU CALLED HIM BABE ♡

WONBIN ☆

Tries to laugh it off

Youre obviouslyyyyyyyyyy joking. He doesnt like the joke but he'll just accept it anyways

Theres noooooooooo way you like him too

So what if youre stroking his red cheek with this pretty, soft smile on your face and hes smiling back, feeling like he could fall in love all over again?????

Shoot- hes leaning it. Wait, what.. you are too???? ♡

SEUNGHAN ☆

Hes so gigglyyyyyy gosh

Wants you to say it again so he can let out a series of giggles, his face burning red as he hides it in your neck

Doesnt find your joke funny even though hes laughing his heart out :<

Looks up at you with hearts in his eyes. he wants to kiss you

He wants to make you his, call him baby forever. Will you let him? ♡

SOHEE ☆

Feel like he wouldnt notice at first, until someone like shotaro would have to slap some sense into him

"What, she just called me baby beca- OH MY GODDDDDDDDD"

feel like he would sing "love is an open door" idk why

Your words were like an energy drink, a gallon of sugar.. sugar rush rush sugar rush rush ahh????

But gets so shy when he sees you the next day ♡

ANTON ☆

Hes gone. Hes dead. Hes jumping of a bridge

Reminds me of that kermit the frog meme, the one where it falls of a building with its arms out all happily and such

Will not take his eyes off of you because what. Did. You. Just. Say????

Hes screaming, crawling up the walls on the inside (source: trust me)

Will dream about this the next 25 business days plus weekends thank you very much ♡

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ameraucanas · 2 years

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i have. found a new song to play on repeat

#finn shut up #its called shy little frog by b!aku

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strangerstilinski · 7 months

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𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐤𝐢 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝟏𝟖+

𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐬𝐜𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐲 𝐩𝐭. 𝟑 — 𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬; 𝐧𝐨 𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐲/𝐧, 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐭 𝐬𝐞𝐱𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭, 𝐨𝐫𝐚𝐥 (𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠), 𝐯𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐬𝐞𝐱, 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐥 𝐛𝐢𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐩𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐞 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤

| 𝐩𝐭. 𝟏 | ⋆ | 𝐩𝐭. 𝟐 | ⋆ | 𝐩𝐭. 𝟑 | ⋆ | 𝐩𝐭. 𝟒 |

By the time you hear the telltale crunch and scuffle of footsteps approaching through the trees, you've been waiting for so for long that your butt has begun to go a little numb from the cold where you sit on the ground, knees hugged to your chest and back pressed against the trunk of a wide tree.

It hasn't quite reached the level of chill that'll have you seeing foggy clouds of breath as you exhale, but it's definitely nearing the time of year when it will be too cold to wait for Stiles outside like this. The late night temperature now is still just shy of it, warm enough that the crickets still chirp happily in the distance, frogs making their own music in the brook that you know winds through the woods just a little ways away.

The drink that you'd still been nursing when you snuck away was long gone, and your intoxicated buzz has settled into nothing more than a pleasant giddiness that swirls warmly beneath your skin to help fight the chill while you wait. Fallen leaves underneath your thighs are a mix of soft and crunchy beneath your fingertips when you pick at them impatiently, the rainstorms that passed through the day before having left the bottom layers damp and smelling strongly of dead earth.

You definitely hear Stiles coming long before you can see him; the quiet curses as he stumbles through the woods, the thump and scuffle of his feet getting caught every now and then on rocks and exposed tree roots. It's hard to say whether his difficulty is a product of his own intoxication or simply his penchant for clumsiness, but you find yourself stifling a quiet giggle as you watch him trip once more, his feet kicking up while his arms fly forward to brace himself for a fall that never comes.

He calls your name once he regains his balance but the lingering alcohol in your brain has you holding your tongue, a wide smile tugging at your lips as you carefully pull yourself up and peer around a tree to spot the dark shape of the boy just a few yards away.

Stiles spins on his heel when a twig snaps under your weight, his startled expression barely illuminated by the moonlight filtering through the steadily thinning autumn foliage on the trees above. He calls your name again, this time a bit quieter, his tone hushed as his feet carry him right past where you're hiding.

“If you're out there and trying to scare me, it's not gonna work,” He says somewhat weakly, his words not at all convincing, “Not to mention if you gave me bedroom eyes and then lead me out here only because you wanted to try and make me piss my pants, I'll kick your cute little ass.”

His delivery of the second statement is more believable, but the teasing only has you grinning wider, heart thumping with excited anticipation beneath your ribs.

“Babe, c'mon,” Stiles urges in a soft voice, “Seriously, where are you? If something happened to you and you're dying right now, Scott will actually kill m-”

“Hi, handsome.”

You murmur the words directly over his shoulder and Stiles flinches so hard in surprise that he nearly smacks you in the face as he spins in your direction. You only narrowly dodge his arm with a small squeak of surprise that quickly melts into a laugh and Stiles shakes his head in irritation even as his chest heaves from the scare.

“Jesus christ!” He exclaims quietly.

You only smile.

“Aw, I'm sorry, Stiles, did I scare you?” You tease sweetly as you close the small gap between the two of you, arms already looping around the back of his neck so that you can plant a kiss to his mouth. His lips taste of pizza and beer from the pack game night that's still taking place just a little ways up the hill. You want to lick your way inside of his mouth to get a better taste, and you're gearing up to do so when his head cranes back to break the kiss as his hands fall to your waist to hold you in place with a tight grip.

“You are such a shithead, McCall,” Stiles tells you with about as much annoyance as he can manage with your breasts pressed so tight against his chest, “I was starting to think something actually might've gotten you. I was about to stumble upon your body, and then, y'know, I figure whatever got you was likely to eat me next-”

“Mm, if you were really set on it, I could still eat you up,” You murmur against his mouth, your tongue flicking out to brush his lips in a teasing touch, “Though, with a house full of werewolves a hundred yards away, don't you think someone would've heard me scream?”

“Not if it went for your throat first,” Stiles retorts a little too easily, “Plus, the music's pretty loud up there.” He adds after a moment.

“Loud enough that no one'll hear if you make me scream?” You question seductively, fingertips trailing up from the nape of his neck to tangle into the soft strands of his hair.

His breath stutters as it slips out in a warm wave from his lips and onto your own, his hands falling to the curve of your ass and tucking into the pockets of your jeans to give it a squeeze. The action has heat pulsing between your thighs and lust has you pressing yourself against him a little harder, until you can feel the warm line of his cock where it's stiffening up beneath his pants.

“I, uh, I'm not sure it's that loud. Y'know, if the sound of your screams were, like, repetitive — I think someone might be more likely t-”

“Stiles.”

His words cut off with a quiet clack as his teeth snap together, eyes searching your own in the dark.

“I need you,” Your fingers comb through his hair, nails scraping against his scalp softly as warm breaths continue to mingle in the barely existent bit of space between you, “I need you.” You repeat, the words a little softer with vulnerability this time, a little more desperate.

“Right, yeah,” Stiles is already looking around the forest with wide eyes, the quick rise and fall of his chest moving your own where you're pressed together, “Shit. Fuck. Um, we.. We could-”

You're far too worked up to find his racing thoughts as endearing as you normally would, “Stiles I can literally ride you right here if you just-”

“No,” He cuts you off, smacking a quick kiss to the corner of your mouth in apology for his interruption before he's grabbing a hold of your hand and dragging you back through the trees toward the edge of the backyard, “No, you'll scrape up you knees like that-”

The sight of the house in the distance has you digging your feet in a little as he pulls you along, “Stiles, where are we- Are you seriously going to say no to sex because you don't want my knees to get a little dirty-?”

“Fuck, no,” Stiles looks back at you like he's contemplating just how well you even know him to make a deduction like that. In his distraction, Stiles trips over a tree root jutting up from the ground and nearly takes you down with him, narrowly managing to keep his feet underneath himself as he tries to keep you from stumbling.

“Then where are we going?” You question again.

“You'll see,” He glances back to catch the tail end of the eye roll you send his way, “Babe, just c'mon.”

Once at the edge of the yard, damp grass underfoot, Stiles banks left and you spot the shed that he seems to have set his sights on. Your arms snake around his waist from behind as he pulls at the loose padlock on the door, the hairs at the base of his tummy are soft under your fingers and you can't help but dip you hand beneath his waistband where the hair spreads further.

“Fucking-” Stiles fumbles with the door when your fingertips just graze his cock, the skin silky smooth under your palm as you push a little further so you can wrap your hand around him, “You're a f-fucking.. menace.” He tells you, not an ounce of bite to his words, more of a groan of approval than anything.

Your only response is to press your lips to the side of his throat, snapping a small nip of your teeth against his shoulder as you work your hand torturously slow.

Distracted by your touch, Stiles swings the door open with with a bit too much enthusiasm. He dives forward to catch it before it can collide with a pile of paint cans stacked against the inside wall and only narrowly gets a hold of it in time.

As soon as the door is secured behind you again, you're dropping to your knees in front of him, metal and leather clinking and slapping beneath your quick hands as you work his belt and get his jeans open enough to tug out his cock. It springs up as it's released, bobbing in front of you like it's taunting you for just how badly you want him. You eye the tip where he's flushed dark pink, shiny and dribbling already, noticeable even in the low light coming in through the windows.

Stiles lets out a groan that sounds more like a whine as you take him in your hand again and lick at the tip, savoring the small beads of precome that meet your tongue. You hum at the salty tang of them, dragging your mouth down the length of him, tracing the soft vein along the underside of his cock with your lips and tongue.

“Oh, fuck,” Stiles moans, his hand finding it's way into your loose hair nearly immediately, “You.. You don't have to-”

You lean back from where you'd been swirling your tongue around the head, giving his length a couple of short tugs as you look up at him through your lashes with a huff, “Maybe I want to, Stilinski. You ever think of that?”

He balks, hips jerking minutely and incidentally thrusting his cock toward your pouting lips, “I.. Um-”

“Maybe I want to suck you off. Did that not cross your mind? Huh? That maybe I like having your dick in my mouth?” You continue, voice dropping a few octaves.

A soft whimper falls from his lips when you lean back in to suck lightly at the tip and the sound has your thighs clenching together against the wave of arousal that curls in your tummy.

“Do you?” Stiles asks in a quiet groan, “Like it?”

“Mhm,” You hum around him, pushing further down his length to take in more of him, letting him feel the way your throat constricts around the head of his cock when you gag before pulling all the way off again, “Love it. Can't believe you didn't know that already.”

“I just thought- God. I, uh. You.. Shit. You're certainly ohmygod- g-good at it.” He struggles to get his words out when you take him back between your lips, but then he's huffing a quiet sigh of distress when you remove the warm heat of your mouth from his length once again.

“Good..?” You repeat in question.

“Huh?”

Stiles is blinking down at you dumbly, his hand flexing in your hair as he tries to clear his head. It's infuriatingly cute.

“I'm ‘good’ at sucking your dick? It's.. ‘Good?’” You say the word with distaste, one eyebrow ticking up on your forehead in challenge as you place his tip back against your lower lip. You let it rest there, one hand coming up to his waist to keep his hips from jutting forward as you part your lips and let a warm breath wash over the wet head of this cock.

“Did- Did I say good? I meant great! I, uh, phenomenal! M-mindblowing-” He moans loud around the word when you reward him by taking him into your mouth again.

You let him rest heavy on your tongue, sucking and bobbing your head in slow drags while he sighs out a desperate little sound at the feeling.

“Fuck. You- You're perfect, baby. You know that. Know how much you- Ohh-”

The whimper that cuts him off has you soaked beneath your panties, moaning around his length in response.

“-How much you rock my world.” He finishes weakly.

You pull off to give him an amused smile, jerking him in earnest with one hand and wiping spit from your lips with the other, “Oh, I rock your world, huh?” You tease.

“God damn it,” Stiles breathes the words, dragging you up by your shoulders until you're standing in front of him again, “You can't make fun of the things I say when you're suckin' my dick. New rule, enforced starting now.”

His mouth is on yours before you can respond, tongue breaking through the seam of your lips with a wide palm encasing the back of your neck as he leads you a few steps backward. Your feet drag carelessly over the uneven floorboards, loose nails and debris kicked aside as you both move farther into the dark space.

Where he's guiding you, you're not entirely sure. You're too lost in the way he licks into your mouth, enough that you can finally taste the beer on his tongue. It's some stupidly expensive ale that Theo always insists is ‘brewed through a better process’ and ‘tastes more full-bodied’ and Stiles is the first to mock him while still stealing a few for himself every time just to see the frown on Theo's face when he finds that they're all gone. The flavor is bitter and entirely too hoppy for your taste but when Stiles' tongue brushes it soft over yours, you find yourself moaning and tightening your hold on him, wanting more of it, needing more of it.

Your backside bumps into a hard surface and you yelp quietly in pain, the curve of your spine aching as you reluctantly pull away from the kiss to find you've run into a messy wooden worktop.

“Sorry!” Stiles says immediately, placing a small kiss of apology to your lips as his forehead falls against yours, “Shit. Sorry, I wasn't paying attention. Didn't realize it was that close.”

“'s okay,” You assure him, already frantically working the button on your jeans and simultaneously toeing off your shoes, “I'm fine.”

Stiles matches your enthusiastic pace as he strips out of his sweatshirt, reaching around to spread it over the dusty surface of the workbench behind you in an unspoken and endearing display of chivalry before he starts to strip out of his tshirt. You're in the process of pulling your own shirt over your head when he grabs ahold of your thighs, a quiet murmured demand of ‘up’ from his lips. You do as he asks, giving a little hop just as his grip tightens and he lifts you up the few remaining inches, dropping you to sit at the edge of the table, the material of his jacket soft underneath you as your naked skin settles over it.

“You're so hot,” Stiles tells you while he crowds forward, your thighs caging him in as his mouth meets the underside of your jaw, chests flush and moving a little rapidly in excitement, “Like, truly so fucking hot. 's actual torture to watch you play games on a team with Isaac n' Theo. Watch 'em both flirt with you and get absolutely nowhere because you're already mine.”

Your head falls back with a sound of approval as he nips at your skin lightly, carefully, kissing and licking the expanse of your throat in lue of leaving any marks. His hands grapple with the band of your bra all the while, unhooking the clasp while you simultaneously try to push his jeans farther down his thighs. Your bra straps fall loose around your arms and Stiles helps rid you of the article. He tucks the material into his back pocket for safe keeping before finally helping you out by pushing his jeans down to his knees, metal and leather of his belt buckle kissing in the silence between your bated breaths.

“Fuck me,” You beg softly, unashamed in the way you cant your hips as your ankles wrap around the backs of thighs, fingers digging into his shoulders in an attempt to pull him closer, “Please. Now. Need you now.” Your words fall from your lips in a whine as you watch him fumble with a condom, but you don't care, not as long as it gets him to give you what you want.

“I know. Shit, I know,” Stiles finally grabs ahold of his cock, dragging the rubber-covered head through the length of your folds, collecting some of the dripping wetness at your entrance and dragging it back up to rub soft over your clit. You gasp at the stimulation and he keeps it up, rubbing his tip over the bundle of nerves until you're tightening your legs around him in an attempt to force him closer with a whimpered plea. “Alright, alright. Got'chu babe, gonna give it to you.”

When his tip breaches your hole, the sharp stretch has you letting out a keening moan. He pushes in torturously slow, the glide smooth with the wetness of your arousal. Stiles settles his hips against the inside of your thighs once you've taken him all the way in, your cunt stretched wide around the thick base of his cock. He doesn't immediately move, breathing heavy as he tries to let you adjust, but after less than a minute you're using your legs around his hips to urge him forward in tiny jerks, not letting him pull out just yet, but forcing him to nudge at the deepest parts of you as you get used to the stretch.

You moan into his shoulder at the gentle grind of his cock inside you, fingers combing through his hair as you continue to guide his movements.

“That good, babe?” Stiles asks softly, hands rubbing nicely into the base of your spine, fingers digging into your skin, “You like being stuffed full of me?”

“Mhm,” You agree, loosening your hold on him to lean back and bring your foreheads together, your thumbs dragging soft along the length of his throat, “'s so good, Sti. So full. You always fill me up so, so good.” You murmur against his lips.

He groans softly, nose brushing yours, hips still rolling, “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” You gasp, “You're so good to me. Fuck me so good. S-such a good boy.”

There's something about the way he tugs you against him in response, his hands digging into the curve of your spine as he drives in as deep as he can go, like he doesn't quite even mean to do it — the intensity has you crying out in time with his own shaky groan.

“Ohmygod,” You gasp, relishing in the slight sting between your thighs from the rough treatment, “Fuck.”

“Sorry,” He says breathlessly, sobering quickly, “Holy shit 'm so sorry, sweetheart. 're you okay? Did I hurt you?”

“'m okay.” You assure him immediately, still slightly reeling as you process what exactly it was that made him lose control, “No, 'm okay, it's okay, I'm.. I'm good. Ready.”

You loosen your legs in signal for him to begin thrusting for real and he looks into your eyes like he's checking that you're sure before he follows the silent command, pulling out in a slow drag and then driving his hips back to yours in a hard thrust. You wait until he finds a rhythm, until both of you are groaning soft between parted lips, before you choose to delve a little deeper.

“You are a good boy, baby.” You tell him, fingernails digging into the nape of his neck a little when his eyes pinch shut with a pathetic whimper, the sound ringing in your ears sweetly. Your puckered lips find his flushed cheek, then the corner of his closed eye, and finally the edge of his mouth, “You like when I tell you?” You ask breathlessly, “When I tell you how good you are? How good you fuck me?”

His fingers dig into your hips a little desperately as the pace of his thrusts pick up, the wet sound of his cock pounding into you growing louder in the otherwise quiet air of the small shed.

“Jesus.. I fucking- Babe-” Stiles pleads, though neither of you are entirely sure what he's pleading for.

“I.. I think you do,” You tell him, voice a little shaky against the hard slam of his hips against your own, “Think you fucking love hearing how good you make me feel. Love.. Love being reminded how f-fucking good your cock is.”

Another boyish-sounding whine claws its way up his throat and your cunt tightens around him like a vice, the noise igniting warm sparks of pleasure down your neck, down the curve of your arched spine.

Stiles licks into your mouth then and it's a messy thing, hungry and wet, all teeth knocking and heavy breaths mingling, but you rake a hand down his back all the same, blunt nails leaving tiny streaks of reddened flesh in their wake. Your hips cant in the hopes that one of his thrusts will finally catch on that spot inside you. You can feel how close he is to kissing it with his length, can practically taste it at the back of your tongue, and when Stiles pulls your ass just a little farther over the edge of the worktable, one of your hands forced to drop behind you to maintain your balance, the head of his cock all but slams into the spot you'd been aiming for.

You cry out into his mouth, the sound swallowed up by his tongue before your foreheads come together again, lips barely brushing. He drives in again and the same keening noise rips from your throat.

“Yeah?” Stiles breathes into your mouth, “That it? That right where you need me?”

Your brows furrow together as you nod, the lines of your body tense with every thrust that he sends exactly where you want him, “Yeah,” You finally manage in a hoarse moan, “Yeah, r- fuck! Right there, Sti. Please.”

You're not entirely sure what it even is that you're begging for, but somehow Stiles knows — because he can see that pinch between your eyebrows, the tremble in your thighs, feels the way your fingers are threaded into his hair like you're holding on for dear life.

“Holy shit.. You getting close?”

You intend on responding, on giving him an affirmative yes, because you are close, can feel your impending orgasm lighting up an inferno across every inch of your body, but before you get the chance to tell him, Stiles is dropping a hand over your heat and flicking his fingertips soft over your swollen clit.

The surprised moan that comes out of you is a strangled sounding little thing, and it pushes a shaky sigh from Stiles' chest as he redoubles his efforts.

“Ohmygod,” You finally manage to cry into his parted lips, “Shit. Fuck, I-I'm so close. I'm so, so-”

“Yeah?” Stiles pants, “I'm close too. Come on, baby. Come for me, c'mon.”

You try to speak, something beyond the soft little ‘ah, ah, ah’'s that escape with every pounding thrust to the bundle of nerves on your inner wall, but you're mouth does little more than gape for a long minute. Your orgasm creeps closer, eyebrows relaxing as they push up your forehead, fingers slipping from Stiles' hair so you can drop your arm around his shoulders.

“S-so fucking good,” You slur breathlessly, “You're so good. Baby.. Baby, you.. You're so.. Fuck.”

Stiles' hips stutter but the fingers working your clit keep steady, “Wanna.. Shit, just wanna.. give it to you like you deserve. Y're so perfect, pussy's so perfect-”

“You do! You do, you do, you do,” You tell him desperately, voice taking on an edge that leaves your words coming out a little higher than normal, “Fuck, Stiles. No one could ever- You're so good! So, so so-”

Your head falls back of it's own accord, Stiles' lips catching your chin as your thighs tense and your hips roll and you clench tight around his cock. He fucks you through your orgasm, his hips stuttering when his own high crashes through him. He's got a tight grip on your ass, his large hands squeezing the soft flesh hard enough to leave bruises right in the dimples of your spine.

The heavy thump of your heart echos loud in your ears, rattling your bones with its sheer strength. Stiles' warm breath falls against your cheek as he presses a soft kiss to the apple of your cheek, a sweet thing that coats your insides like a warm syrup as he moves in a line and presses another to your jaw, and then your chin, and the corner of your mouth.

The hard peaks of your nipples are still pressed to his chest, scarce hairs around his own nipples catching against your sensitive skin in a way that has you leaning back just a touch, your lips meeting his for a sticky kiss.

“That was good.” You tell him earnestly, still a little breathless.

“Oh, ‘good’, huh?” Stiles repeats in a grumble, “Just ‘good’?”

Your tinkling laugher fills the quiet shed, eyes crinkling in the dark as you tip his head to the side to scrape your teeth threateningly against his jaw, the sharp scratch of stubble meeting your skin.

“Better than good,” You correct, lips pulling up in a teasing grin as you run your fingers through the soft length of his hair, “Can I tell you a secret, though?” You whisper softly.

Stiles nods, his fingers drumming and drawing restless patterns over the skin of your thighs.

You lean close, lips brushing the shell of his ear as you fight to hold in a breathy laugh, “You kinda rock my world too.”

He pushes away from you with a grumble, spent cock finally slipping out of you and causing you to wince with a gasp as he tosses your bra and tshirt in your direction.

“So cruel, y'know that?” Stiles huffs, his smile giving away his true feelings.

Your laughter rings out again as he begins to pull on his clothes and you follow suit, securing the clasp on your bra and pulling your shirt over your head, “I'm only teasing you a little,” You tell him as you jump down from the edge of the table and flip your hair out from under your collar, “That was at least eighty percent genuine compliment.”

“Uh huh, I'm sure.” Stiles says unconvincingly as he approaches where you're tugging your jeans up over the curve of your ass with a little hop. He crowds you, a hand reaching toward your face as he pinches a piece of debris between his thumb and forefinger and pulls it from your hair with a small grin.

Just a few minutes later, your laughter continues despite Stiles’ constant shushing, two sets of stumbling steps thumping through the forest as he drags you along, his big hand warm where it's wrapped around your own.

“Stiles!” The two syllables drag slow from your tongue and you pull against his hold as you follow after him in amused confusion, “Where are we- Oomf!”

His arm curls around your waist, pulling your chest flush to his and smothering your words with a kiss that you can't help but sink into. One hand drags down your spine, grabbing a fistful of your ass through your jeans and hauling you up against him as his tongue flicks soft against yours. You can't hold back a moan, a sweet little noise of contentment slipping out into his mouth.

“Gotta be quieter than that, sweetheart. The music didn't sound nearly as loud back at the house at it was earlier. All our friends have supernatural hearing, yeah? I know it's hard to hold back, when I'm so-”

“God, shut up,” You groan, your fingernails digging a little meanly into his muscles forearm, “You're.. You're so fucking cocky sometimes-”

“You love when I'm cocky.” He says easily, and there's not much you can say to that, because, well, you do.

“Shut up.” You repeat against his lips petulantly.

He draws back from you with an entirely too smug grin, giving your ass one final squeeze before he's taking ahold of your hand once again and continuing his trek through the trees.

“Seriously, where are we going?” You try again, “I know you're not great with directions, but surely when we left the backyard you must've realized that the house is in the opposite direction-”

“Such a brat,” Stiles grumbles under his breath, dragging you further into the trees. You would normally be worried about getting lost in the dark, but Stiles' self-assured steps keep you from being too concerned. While it feels like the two of you are wandering blindly, Stiles walks as if he has a destination in mind, like he knows exactly where he's leading you, “Listen, you know what has to happen now, right?”

A snort of laughter breaks free at just how serious he sounds as slows he and pushes up behind you, warm chest pressed to your back, his hands on your hips so that he can continue to lead you forward.

“Jesus,” You laugh, “What- Are you about to murder me?” You tip your head back onto his shoulder in time to catch his unimpressed glare, “Sti, if this is about me teasing you, I'm sorry, but it's true! You rock my world! Your dick-”

“It's not that,” Stiles disagrees, his voice struggling to hide his own amusement, “And just for the record, if I wanted to murder you, we both know I'm creative enough that you wouldn't see it coming.”

“So reassuring.” You scoff, to which he merely shrugs, “Okay, ha ha. Now, seriously-”

Your words fade into a whisper before they die off altogether because you've just broken through the edge of the treeline and your gaze is focused on the house that sits up the bank in front of you. The patio and pool that take up a majority of the backyard are shrouded in darkness with scant moonlight, but the windows in the house itself are lit up, a surprisingly large number of rooms displayed brightly even at the late hour.

But Stiles is still nudging you forward with slow steps, his hips pressed flush to your own, urging you further into the yard.

“Ah, gee. Looks like someone's home,” You murmur when he doesn't say anything after a few seconds, feet skidding slightly when you try to hold your ground as you round the edge of the pool, “Bummer.. Looks like we'll have to explore your kink for breaking and entering another nigh-”

A hand pushes hard into your waist and cold salt water crashes around you before you get the chance to finish your sentence, the sound of it thundering in your ears. Your clothes are leaden with the extra weight as they soak through and the fabric is heavy as you push back up to the surface. You've barely broken through and begun to wipe salt from your eyes when a splash erupts right next to you, water spraying as Stiles plunges after you.

When he pushes up through the surface of the water, head shaking side to side before flicking back to flip his hair off of his forehead in an easy move, you're already landing a hard punch against his shoulder.

“Ow!” Stiles complains in a hushed whisper.

“What the hell-!” You scold in an equally quiet but wholly enraged hiss, water clinging to your lashes as your fist delivers another blow to his bicep, “-is wrong with you?”

“Ow.” He complains again and grabs your wrists with a chuckle, your body weightless as he pulls you toward him through the water. The hard planes of his chest are warm through soaked cotton when your forearms meet them and push the billowing fabric flush to his skin. His thumbs stroke the sides of your wrist as he tries to placate you, “Baby, baby!” Stiles says with a hushed laugh when you go tense but are no longer actively thrashing in his grip, “The pool is.. We needed to wash away the smell. Y'know, arousal, sex..”

Your gaze flicks slow over his dripping face, eyeing the painfully earnest look in his expression. You fists tighten in his grip once more as you heave a disbelieving sigh, eyes pinching shut for a moment as you rein yourself in.

“Stiles..”

“What?”

Your eyes snap open to meet his, purposefully even breaths falling from your lips, “How are we going to explain why we're soaking wet?”

“Easy,” Stiles laughs, “We tell everyone you dragged me over here to shove me in the pool.”

Whatever snarky remark you're gearing up sticks to the tip of your tongue as an outdoor patio light flicks on, the glow of it illuminating the far side of the pool. Stiles meets your wide-eyed gaze, his arm already wrapping around your waist to push you up out of the pool in a rush.

“Shit.”

𝐚/𝐧; 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐢 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐬 𝐢'𝐝 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐮𝐩 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐨 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐩𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐦𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐬𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝟓𝐤. 𝐢 𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐥𝐲 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐢𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐝. 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐰𝐚𝐲… 𝐢'𝐦 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐩𝐢𝐝 𝐨𝐛𝐬𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐝𝐌𝐜𝐂𝐚𝐥𝐥!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐥𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐲. 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐧𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐟𝐮𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞, 𝐨𝐛𝐯.

𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞, 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞, 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞, 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠/𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠 (𝐦𝐚𝐲𝐛𝐞 𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬?? 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐦𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤? 𝐚𝐧 𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐣𝐢? 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠?) 𝐢 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐠𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐚𝐥𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐲 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐢 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬. 🤍

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