Raindrop Romance And Puppy Dog Eyes

Raindrop romance and puppy dog eyes

Stiles Stilinski x fem!Reader

I was at my locker, discussing the upcoming math test with Lydia when I felt a pair of arms wrapping around my waist from behind. “Boo!” I heard my idiotic boyfriend, Stiles, say.

With a grin, I slammed my locker shut and turned around to face him. “Hi baby,” he said, pulling me close in a warm embrace.

“Hey Stilinski, stealing my girl away from me again?” Lydia said, a playful frown on her face as she folded her arms.

"Um, excuse me, since when was she your girl? Did I miss something? Because last night, she was definitely moaning my name," Stiles responded, a smirk playing on his lips.

Lydia scoffed, delivering her response with an attitude, “well, I've known her longer."

"Well, that sucks because I don’t give a shit."

“Okay, guys, that’s enough,” I intervened, teasingly rolling my eyes to end their banter before it could escalate and potentially giving me a headache.

"But, he-" Lydia started, only to be cut off by Stiles. "Me?" He asked in mock shock, causing me to let out a groan.

"Can you both please shut up so I can go home?" I teased, grabbing Stiles by the arm and playfully dragging him out the door.

Once we stepped outside, heavy raindrops were falling. Turning to Stiles with a wide grin, I yelled, "tag!" and dashed toward his jeep.

"Oh, you little bitch! You’re so gonna get it!" He yelled back, chasing after me.

It didn't take him long to catch up, and before I knew it, he was grabbing my waist. "Tag!" He declared, out of breath, hugging me from behind. After a moment, I pushed his arms off of me and took off running. "Nope."

"Oh, you little dick." He yelled, attempting to catch up, but I was already in the car with the door locked before he could.

Reaching the driver's side, he tried to open the door, but frowning when he realized it was locked. He looked up with puppy dog eyes, causing me to return his gaze with a proud smile. “Baby, please open the door,” he whined, pressing his forehead against the glass, and knocking on the window, instantly making me cave in.

As soon as I unlocked the door, he rushed in, slamming it shut before rubbing his hands together in an attempt to get warm. “Can you turn on the heater please?”

Only one bed

Timothée Chalamet x fem!Reader

The anticipation for the premiere of my latest project, 'little women' had my nerves on edge as I sat in the airport, waiting for my Uber. Tomorrow's event promised excitement and anxiety in equal measure – after all, being one of the main characters in a show was a huge accomplishment for me.

As I scrolled through my Instagram feed, a message from my driver notified me of his arrival. Stepping outside the airport, I was met by a cheerful man who swiftly took my suitcase and stowed it in the trunk before we set off on the short journey, engaging in light conversation along the way.

My phone buzzed incessantly with notifications from the group chat comprised of my fellow 'Little women' cast members. Amidst the chatter, the revelation that we had to share rooms due to a booking oversight surfaced. I sighed inwardly, hoping I wouldn't end up rooming with Timothée – a fellow actor whom I didn't like, at all.

"Miss, we're here," The driver said, getting out and walking around to the trunk to get my bags. Once I got out of the car, I heard someone shout, "Y/N!" looking up I saw Florence with her arms wide open sprinting over to me. I smiled at her, engulfing her in a bear hug. We stayed that way for a while until we heard someone calling our names. We turned around to see Saoirse behind us. "We're deciding who's rooming with who." She said, walking back to the hotel's lobby with Florence and I following close behind her.

***

"Oh fuck no!" I yelled, "I'm not going to be sharing a room with this mother fucker." I said pointing towards Timothée.

"Yeah, and I don't want to share a room with her either!" He retorted, crossing his arms and pouting, causing me to roll my eyes at his childish behavior.

After a while of arguing I eventually gave up, knowing I wouldn't win this argument.

I was to share a room with Timothée. Our mutual disdain for each other was palpable as we rode the elevator to the 19th floor.

"Going up," the elevator announced as it started moving.

I shot Timothée a scornful glare, my irritation palpable at the thought of sharing a room, especially with him – the last person I wanted as a roommate.

The elevator opened revealing the floor we would all be staying on for the next few days. We all went our separate ways just wanting to get to our rooms.

Timothée and I were walking down the halls when we saw our room number. Disgruntled and resigned to our fate, Timothée opened the door throwing his bags on the floor and going straight to the bathroom, grabbing a cup, and filling it with water, while I just stood in the middle of the room in shock.

"Uh, Timothée," I called out to him.

"What n/n?" He said with attitude, walking over towards me and taking a sip from his water.

"Look!" I said, pointing to the spacious yet troubling sight – a solitary king-size bed occupying the center of the room.

Any other person from the cast and I would've been totally fine with it. Why out of all the people did it have to be with Timothée? "You sleep on the bed; I'll sleep on the floor,""He said, grabbing two of the pillows and one of the blankets.

Feeling guilt take over my body, I said, "Tim, it's fine; we could just share the bed; we could put a pillow to divide us."

He didn't reply; he just smiled, throwing the pillow and blanket back on the bed before leaving for the bathroom once again. Timothée emerged from the bathroom in casual blue-and-white pajamas, a departure from his usual appearance. He settled onto his side of the bed, slipping beneath the duvet and cuddling against his pillow. He actually looked kinda cute right now. As much as I hated to admit it, he was a really attractive guy, he just has a terrible personality.

I, too, got under the covers, snuggling up into my pillow before drifting off to sleep.

The night passed relatively quiet until the early hours of the morning, I awoke to sudden movement in the room. To my dismay, my eyes slowly opened to reveal Florence, Emma, and Saoirse standing around the bed, brandishing their phones like paparazzi. I shot up, waking Timothée up from my sudden movements. "What the hell are you guys doing in here?" I questioned.

"I think the real question is how you even got in here." Timothée said, with an annoyed expression.

"Irrelevant," Florence said as Saoirse shoved her phone in our faces.

"Look how cute you guys look!" She said, revealing a photo of Timothée and me spooning with his arm wrapped around me.

My face flushed red as I looked down trying to hide my face. After a while of them teasing us, they eventually left. "Hey, um sorry about that, I didn't know I did that in, my sleep," Timothée said, his head down in embarrassment.

I put my hand on top of his making him look at me. "It's fine, really," I said, smiling at him.

Driven by a surge of impulse, I closed the distance between us, our lips colliding in an unexpected union. Timothée responded, his touch gentle yet firm as he cradled my face in his hands. A smile crept onto my lips as I tangled my fingers in his curls, savoring the moment of intimacy. We both pulled away for air, going back for another kiss when we heard someone clearing their throat, jumping away from each other we saw Emma and Saoirse with big smiles on their face, "you owe me 20 bucks, pay up." Florence said, putting her hand out.

"Seriously how the fuck are you guys getting in here?!"

***

This is definitely not my best work ever, so I apologize for that.

Hair tie

Timothée Chalamet x fem!Reader

I walked through the front door of my apartment to be met with silence and the darkness . The only revealing light was coming from the television that my boyfriend, Timothée, was currently staring at. He looked brained dead as he thoughtlessly clicked through multiple channels before settling for a hockey game.

I could see him fidgeting with the silver band that was on his index finger, looking as if he was going to fall asleep any minute now. I walked into the kitchen, placing my key ring into a glass bowl, before hanging my jacket up on the back of the chair. I rubbed my hands over my face in tiredness, trying to forget about the terrible events that occurred this evening. I jumped back in shock when I heard shuffling noises behind me. I quickly turned my head, letting out a sigh of relief when I saw that it was just Timothée. "How's the hockey game?" I asked, letting out a sigh as I walked over towards him, wrapping my arms around his neck.

"Boring," he said as he wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me closer to him. 

"You were gone for a very long time. I was starting to get worried when you didn't answer my calls or my messages." I nodded before I mindlessly let go of him, walking away from him, the only thing on my mind was going to bed.

He let out a sigh, not liking the fact that he got ignored. I heard him following behind me as I walked into our bedroom, going into the connected bathroom to change out of my clothes.

Once I got changed, I walked over to the sink so I could wash my face. "Y/n, "he whined, hugging me tightly from behind. 

I sighed, looking at him through the mirror. "Tim," I sternly said, watching him as he used his fingers to comb through my tangled hair.

He doesn't verbally respond, instead; he takes one of my black hair ties off of his wrists as he began to braid my hair. While I just stood there, my heart melting at the sight of the concentrated look on his face."Where did you get the hair tie from?" I jokingly asked as I crossed my arms.

"You left it on our bed,"

I nodded, leaning back into his chest as I closed my eyes, enjoying this moment. Once he finished, he put the braid over my shoulder, looking down at me with a proud smile on his face. I turned my head, placing a kiss to the bottom of his jaw, as he wrapped his arms around my waist, burying his head into my neck.

"I love you," he whispered into my ear before kissing my cheek.

"I love you too," I whispered back, as I placed my hands into his, causing him to smile.

I turned around so that I could face him, wrapping my arms around his waist, burying my head into his chest, as I he rested his chin against my head. "Can we go to bed now?" I asked, wanting nothing more but to cuddle.

"Sure."

Cigarettes

Timothée Chalamet x fem!Reader

An unwanted, yet all so familiar scent filled the room as I tossed and turned in bed, waking up, but not being able to go back to sleep. I turned to my side, not really expecting, but rather hoping that I would see my husband, Timothée, but he wasn't there. I looked around the room until I saw a bare back sitting in the corner, hunched over a desk. Yesterday he talked about some paperwork he needed to do, so I'm assuming he's finishing that up.

He had a cigarette; or, as I liked to call it, a cancer in between his lips. As he inhales, moving it away for a moment, exhaling, as the smoke leaves his mouth in numerous, perfectly formed rings.

The room quickly starts to feel stuffy, as if the walls were caving in on me. I walked over to the window that was to the side of our bedroom, feeling as if I could suffocate at any given moment. I quickly opened the window, taking a long, deep breath as I bathed in the fresh air. Thinking to myself about how I will never take nature for granted anymore. I let the cold air slowly consume the room, sighing with relief as the cigarette smell already started to fade.

The winter breeze hits my exposed legs, as I just now realized I was only in my underwear and one of Timothée's old white button ups. "Morning," he mumbles, not glancing up from his paper, taking another breath of his fake air.

I start heading towards our bathroom, a cough escaping my mouth as I splash cold water in my face, hoping to help relive the throbbing pain in my upper head. But to my dismay, it only made it worse. My head starting to pound from the smoke. The throbbing sensation, now taking a hold of my entire face, as I let out a whimper, wondering to myself why he puts me through this kind of pain every morning.

I exited the bathroom, dizzily walking over to Tim's desk, "Could you either take that elsewhere or put it out already? It's fucking hard to breathe in here!" I said rather harshly. I never meant to sound rude, but using a tone was the only efficient way to make him listen. 

He takes a glance over at me for a second, shock written all over his face. But none the less he listened. He held up one hand in defence while the other put the cigarette out. "Sorry, love," he said with a sigh, running his hands through his brown-colored hair.

I rolled my eyes at him before walking over to the window once again. I heard him getting up from his seat, feeling his toned arms wrapping around my waist not even a second later, bringing instant warmth to my body. He bent down slightly so he could nuzzle his head into my neck, causing me to cringe at the coldness of his nose. He began planting small kisses from my shoulder, all the way to the top of my neck, causing me to shrug him off. "Are you ever gonna quit?" I asked slightly hesitantly, needing to confront him about his issue but at the same time not wanting him to be mad at me.

I could see his shocked face from the reflection of the window. "Stop what?" he asked, now putting on a confused face.

I let out a tired sigh, turning around to face him, "Oh, come on, Timothée Hal, don't be an idiot right now." I snapped at him, crossing my arms.

"Love, I have no idea what you're talking about," he calmly said, only making me more upset with him.

"Like you don't know. You always smell like cigarettes, and I'm tired of having to ruin my own lungs for your unhealthy habits." I said, not looking him in the eyes.

"Come on, it's not that bad," he said, obviously irritated that I brought the subject up.

"It is 6 in the damn morning, Timothée, and you've already smoked enough today to make this whole fucking room suffocate me!" I scoffed, tearing up slightly.

"How many have you had today? Three, five, six, nine!" I yelled. 

"I've had three, it's not that bad," he snapped, starting to walk away from me.

"Oh, it's not that bad? Well, my mistake for thinking having three cigarettes at six in the damn morning is concerning. I don't know why you're acting as if I'm some kind of idiot. I know that you always have at least two full packs on you at all times. But yeah, my fucking bad for worrying about my husband." I said, following close behind him as tears started to form in my eyes, clouding up my vision.

"Okay, I fucking get it!" He yelled, slamming his hands down on a table, causing me to gasp.

"But you don't! We have had this conversation countless other times and you give me the same answer every single fucking time! You say you'll try to quit and that you would do anything for me, but it doesn't mean shit right now, and quit frankly I'm fucking terrified that it won't ever! Why can't you see how much this is affecting me, affecting you?" I screamed back, my heart breaking at the sight of him tensing up as all signs of anger clears from his face.

"Listen, I get it. It's fun for now, but I can't sit back in silence anymore as I watch you slowly kill yourself. I love you way too much for that." I said, my voice breaking as tears were now fully rolling down my cheeks.

He reached his hand up to my face, lightly wiping the tears away, before pressing a kiss on both of my cheeks "I love you too, but it's not that easy to quit, you know," he said, both of his hands now cupping my face as he placed numerous kisses to the side of my head.

"I know baby, but have you even tried?"

"Yes." He mumbled, now looking down.

I rolled my eyes, "whatever then. I'm leaving until you get your problem sorted out." I said, pushing him off of me as I started to walk away, but before I could even take two steps, I feel him grabbing my wrist and pulling me towards him, into a hug.

"Please don't go, baby, I'm so sorry. I promise I'll stop. Just please don't go." He said, pressing sloppy kisses all around my face. 

"Don't make promises you can't keep."

"I will, y/n please, just don't go. I love you so much." He said, holding onto me as if he were about to fall to his death. 

I brought my hand up to his hair, slightly tugging on the roots of it, placing a small peck on his forehead. After a while, I loosened out of his grip, walking over to the jacket hook, where his cigarettes lied. "So you wouldn't care if I threw these away?" I questioned, holding up three packs of cigarettes, one almost empty but two of them not even opened yet.

He stared at me for a while, taking a deep breath, before taking the packs from my hand, quickly walking over to the restroom before emptying them into the toilet, flushing them quickly, and disregarding the packaging in the trash. Causing the biggest smile to form on my face.

"Give me one second, there's more," he said, walking over to his desk, opening the drawer up and pulling out one more pack, doing the same to that pack as he did to the last three.

He turned to face me, pulling me into another hug. "I love you so much," he said, kissing all over my face, causing me to laugh. 

"I know baby." I said, jokingly, laughing at his scrunched up face. 

"I can always buy more cigarettes." He said with a straight face, trying his best to hold in a laugh.

 "I love you too, Timothée Hal." I said, pushing his head down a little by his hair, forcing him to kiss me. 

I love you

Dylan O'brien x fem!Reader

I leaned the side of my head against Dylan’s arm as I watched him type on his keyboard. I was bored, to say the least, but as of right now, it didn't really matter to me. I was content with just being in the presence of my boyfriend.

I looked up, admiring his features, as I smiled, happy with the fact that he was indeed mine and only mine. "Are you bored?" Dylan asked, looking down at me with a smile on his face.

I shook my head, snuggling up more into his arm, causing him to laugh, "I'm almost done," he whispered into my ear, before placing a kiss on my forehead.

I closed my eyes, letting myself drown in his aroma, as I slowly started to drift asleep.

***

I woke up in Dylan's bed, letting out a groan as I sat up. I looked over at his clock to see that I had been asleep for more than an hour. I let out a shiver as I pulled his covers off my body, now realizing just how cold it was in his room. I made my way over towards Dylan's wardrobe, grabbing the first sweater I could find, putting it on as I went to go look for him.

I walked down the stairs and into the kitchen to see him sitting down on the couch, remote in his hand as he clicked through channel to channel, in the search to find something interesting. "Hey babe," he said, patting down a spot next to him, not taking his eyes off the television.

"Hey love," I replied, making my way over towards him, taking a seat on his lap.

I buried the side of my head against his chest as I felt his free hand wrap around me. "What are you watching?" I asked, looking up at him.

He let out a sigh before turning the television off. "Nothing, there's nothing good on," he said, now directing his full attention to me.

I acknowledged him by nodding my head before wrapping my arms and legs around him, wanting to feel his body as close to mine as possible.

We stayed in that position for a while, the both of us soaking in the soothing feeling of each other's embrace, content with the monotonous, yet oddly comforting silence. "I love you," I said, breaking the silence.

"I love you too," he said back, placing a small kiss on my cheek.

We stayed in that position for a while longer. We had our eyes closed and a wide smile plastered on our faces. As every now and then, one of us would slowly inch closer to the other, trying to not only be able to feel but to be able to absorb the warmth generated between the both of our bodies.

Fuck it

Stiles Stilinski x fem!Reader

"Stiles, shut up the fuck up," I whispered, trying my hardest to contain my laughter.

Stiles and I were in literature class, sitting next to each other, which normally would be a good, effective thing. But, however, for some reason, he wouldn't stop putting his cold hands under my shirt me.

He reached over towards me for the fourth time in this class, trying to stick his hands under my sweater. However, I slapped his hand away before he could reach my stomach, causing a loud noise to fill up the classroom. "L/n, Stilinski, care to explain what's going on back there?" Our teacher asked, giving us his best disappointed face, but we knew that he loves us way too much to actually be mad at us.

"No, sir," I said in a polite tone, but I was flipping Stiles off under the table.

"Okay, well, back to what I was saying-" the teacher continued, but I tuned him out after the first couple of words.

I was scribbling down random shapes on my paper when I felt Stiles'  cold hands reach under my sweater, pressing against my stomach. "Holy fuck!" I screamed, a little too loudly.

"Okay, that's it. Out of my class right now!" The teacher yelled. This time, he wasn't joking around.

We awkwardly gathered our things, before exiting the class, but as soon as the door shut, we both broke down laughing. "As unfortunate as the situation was, you have to admit; it was pretty funny." He said. 

 "Fuck you, dipshit," I said, shoving my hip into Stiles'.

"You love me," he said, flicking my forehead.

We were walking down the hallways until we decided to take a backtrack and just go on the roof instead of the principal's office. And since Literature was the last class of the day, it didn't really matter that much is we dipped. 

We were sitting down on the edge of the building, talking about the most randomest things when Stiles cut me off. "Hey n/n, can I ask you something?" he asked, looking down as he nervously fidgeting with his rings.

"Yeah, of course,"

"Well, I ju–I just wanted to–fuck it." He said, grabbing onto my face, pulling me into a kiss.

Once we broke apart, his eyes anxiously looked at mine, hoping I shared the same feelings as him, but after I didn't respond, he scrunched his face up. "Y/n, I'm so sorry. I wasn't thinking–"

I cut him off by pressing my lips back to his, except this time when he went to pull away from me, I wrapped my arms around his neck, holding him in place. After a while I pulled away, sending him a smile. "I like you," I said, red tinting my cheeks.

"I like you too," he responded, going to kiss me for the third time, but got cut off by the school bell.

"Guess that's our cue," he said, getting off the ledge, and helping me to get off as well.

"Bye Stiles," I said, kissing his cheek, before walking out the door.