Send me "I'd totally fuck you" to see my character's reaction.“I— Wow. You’re really pretty… did someone pay you to come say that to me, or…? I don’t think you have the right guy…”
“Pay me? Wh—no! No! I’m not — I just — I don’t know what came over me, to say it like that.”
Stiles pretended not to notice the ginger looking at him over her books, but at some point, enough was enough. He got up and walked across the library, sitting across from her. “Okay, why are you looking at me like that?”
Summer became aware that her mouth was hanging open, and hastily closed it. “You make interesting expressions when you’re thinking. I’m a storyteller … “
thenogitsuneandstiles-deactivat:
Stiles was slammed against the wall, the fiery red headed girl he didn’t even know the name of smashing her lips to his. How had he ended up here? He didn’t know. He remembered being angry that Lydia had dissed him (once again) and walking into a bar, talking to a cute girl, they had danced after a few drinks…
And now he was up against a wall, their bodies pressed together, lips molding into each others and somehow, he loved it. Because he wasn’t worrying, or even caring frankly, about the other red head who had consumed him. Right now, at least, he probably wouldn’t know who she was if she walked up to him.
She wouldn’t’ve pushed him up against a wall ordinarily. But then this was not an ordinary night. He probably thought she was drunk — which she was, kind of. Just not on alcohol.
On lust and anger and a hundred other shades of human emotions. His freckles seemed appealing, and his shyness. Kindred spirit, right? So she maneuvred him until he couldn’t get away and took what she wanted. Until they were both breathless. She was too high on him to think about the consequences of sliding her hand down the front of his body.
