↳ ੈ‧₊˚ ┊͙ IN WHICH AURORA WAS AN INNOCENT LITTLE GIRL WHO NEEDED STILES' PROTECTION.
"dancing through our house, with the ghost of you."
WARNINGS: DEVELOPING STUTTER/SPEECH IMPEDIMENT, DDLG, DADDY KINK, SMUT, EXPLICIT LANGUAGE
book 1 in the 'ghost...
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as it turns out, aurora didn't get much sleep within the following minutes. was she surprised? no. was she getting increasingly grumpy? yes.
"do i have a phd in lycanthropy?" when she begrudgingly opened her eyes stiles was still blabbering into his phone. aurora swore that she hadn't felt this tired since their harry potter marathon months ago. the tired girl leaned forwards, resting her dainty chin atop the seat in front of her. scott clutched his sides, eyes scrunched closed. she barely payed attention as stiles started to shuffle in his seat, moving towards the coach.
"s-scotty?"
"mhmm." his eyes were still closed. aurora frowned.
"does it h-hurt? sorry - that was dumb. i m-mean, can i help? like, c-can you give me the pain?" her voice was quiet, timid, as though she'd never spoken to scott mccall in her life before. the werewolf's dark eyes opened quickly, almost as though he were offended by aurora's question.
"rory, no-"
"i just wanna help you." she frowned again, bottom lip jutting out. scott cursed himself for looking at it a moment too long, if stiles were next to the little girl he probably would've been cussing the wolf out.
"i-i know, rory. but this would hurt way too much."
"hey!" her brow furrowed. "i t-took a window to the head, i can take it."
"you shouldn't have to take anything to the head." he inhaled sharply. "i'm here to protect you, not let you get hurt. stiles is here to protect you."
before the small girl could conjure a reply, the sharp sound of coach's whistle caused her to jump out of her skin. her chocolate eyes snapped towards her boyfriend, the back of his head facing her. the small girl cleared her throat, ignoring the instinct for her eyes to wonder lower. "it's sixty miles to the next rest stop-"
another whistle.
"being cooped up for hours is not good-"
a louder whistle.
"you know, our bladders aren't exactly-"
once again.
"coach this is-" with every word another blow of the whistle sounded. it was even starting to give aurora a headache, and she couldn't imagine how the four werewolves in the bus must've felt. "can you- please- let me talk!" no whistle sounded. "i'm-" another blow. coach laughed. "every time-" a long, continuous blow came from the middle aged man, right into the raven haired boy's face.
