I'm No Werewolf (The Rewrite) // Stiles Stilinski x OC

Temptress

That made her blanche a little, unsure what to do. A little wary because, surprisingly, his touch felt soothing and reassuring, the weight of his arm like a heavy blanket trying to coax her back to sleep.

But no, she couldn't let herself feel that. It wasn't fair on her, and it wasn't fair on Stiles. She didn't do relationships or feelings like this and pretending she did would just hurt them both.

She cleared her throat uncomfortably, removing his arm again as she flicked his forehead and he – finally – reeled back in surprise, blinking around in surprise and confusion.

"Welcome back to the land of the living 'sleeping beauty'" she whispered in a hushed voice, "we fell asleep. If my mom finds us, we're dead"

Despite the darkness she could see Stiles' eyes widen to the size of dinner plates, flailing into an upright position in a flurry of limbs and blankets, promptly smacking the back of his head against the headboard and making a large, and rather loud, bang.

"Subtle" she remarked sarcastically with an eye roll, "do you want to wake the whole neighbourhood, or...?"

He rubbed the back of his head, still looking panicked.

"We-We fell asleep?"

"Yup. It's nearly 4am"

"Oh crap"

"Yeah, so if you could just leave out the window that would be great-"

"The window?" he shrieked, realising he was being super loud by her pointed look and adjusted his volume control, "The window? What do you mean 'the window?' I'm not  jumping out your window. I'll break my legs!"

"We're only one storey high".

"That's one storey enough to put me in a wheelchair".

"Oh, don't be so dramatic".

"Dr-Dramatic?" he demanded, "No. Jumping from a window is being dramatic. You have front doors".

"No. What I have is a judgemental and overbearing mother" she corrected, "if she hears or sees you leaving, we'll get accused of raw dogging each other all night".

She watched as his expression became embarrassed and almost doubtful.

"Uh... we-we didn't, did we?"

She sent him a moody glare.

"If we had, trust me, you would remember it".

He soon shut up at that, his cheeks no doubt turning a cherry red.

However, as he was Stiles, he didn't stay quiet for long.

"Uh... heh... yeah, of-of course. I just thought... I mean, my dream...um..." he blanched, "I mean... I didn't mean that-"

"Stiles" she interrupted, "I don't really care about your sex dreams. They probably pale in comparison to what I can actually do anyway. So, relax"

Her words seemed to have the opposite effect on him, looking like he was in the middle of an asthma attack.

"So... the window?"

He looked like she asked him to kill his dog.

"Okay" she muttered, "no window. Don't get your panties in a twist".

"Don't you get your panties in a twist" he retaliated without thinking, becoming flustered and overwhelmed at the word 'panties', "not that I'm thinking about your panties or anything-"