A/N: BEWARE! This is ultra-fluff (if ya know what i mean). Yes, this, my friend, crosses the line of fluff and enters steamy. I was debating whether i should make the next chapter long or steamy and so I went with the latter option. But, I will upload a long one-shot soon enough, but for now:

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He moved his piece across the board with an intricate, graceful style of his hand- picking it up with the tip of his index finger and thumb, and moving it across the white tile, onto the black, and taking out her pawn.

Lydia smirked.

She knew too well that she stood no chance – if, possibly, any chance at all – against Stiles when it came to chess. It was his game. Of course, that didn't mean she couldn't try and beat him. After all, Lydia did have brains. How hard could it be?

"And the cavalry goes down." Stiles commented with a cheeky smirk, plucking Lydia's pawn off the chessboard and putting it aside along with her other pieces.

Needless to say, her brains weren't playing the right cards at the moment.

But she didn't care; at least not now.

As the two of them sat on the floor in the living room, right next to the coffee table, right opposite each other, Lydia made note of her husband's features while he was concentrating. It was the same face he pulled every time he was bent over on a case. Whether it was a normal, police-work file or a supernatural debacle, Lydia came to notice how his eyebrows pinched together, how prominent lines appeared across his forehead, and how his eyes stayed deadly focused on his remaining options; on what move to play next; what move to predict; what move to win.

Lydia loved it. Sure, it was one thing for Stiles to look adorable and dorky at the same time whenever he got excited about something – in Lydia's case, or, would you rather, everyone's case, that happened quite often – but it was another when he was in concentration. In all her life, Lydia had seen some pretty attractive boys- hell, she'd dated two of them, till one turned into a cold-blooded lizard and moved to London, and the other died by a Japanese demon whilst being a former alpha. But this was different. Stiles was different. She had never had a guy treat her the way he did. Ever since their marriage, and even before that, Stiles always adored Lydia, treated her like gold, and cared for her deeply. Granted, he did steer off her with Malia for a while, but she eventually got him back. And she couldn't be happier.

But right now, despite having dated attractive boys, none of them held a candle to Stiles as he broke out of his concentration phase and held her gaze with his own.

His brown eyes sparkled off the sunlight streaming the floor, and he smiled one of his mischievous smiles that Lydia came to love.

"Your move, Lyds." He said, raising his eyebrows and smiling wider in anticipation.

Lydia felt the heat rush to her face as she placed her hand on her king. Admittedly, her brains didn't guarantee her a win for this game, but it did help her play the right cards into getting what she wanted. And what she wanted was Stiles all over her. So, drawing the dumb card, she moved her king onto the open space of the chessboard, knowing well that she was about to lose. But, again, that didn't matter. She wanted to lose.

It only meant that things were about to get better. The robes both of them were wearing were a huge indication, if not any other.

Stiles raised her move with one of his own, moving his final piece and taking her king out of the game.

"Checkmate." He said, smirking triumphantly. "I win."

"Yes, you do." She replied, getting excited.

See, Lydia knew she wasn't going to win; that much was obvious. Stiles was too good of a chess player for her. But that meant she lost. And when it came to this particular version of chess they played, when one of them lost…

"Take it off." Stiles spoke in a husky voice, eager to get started as she was.

Lydia smirked and took off her robe, letting the fabric slide off her shoulders slowly, until all that was left was her bare skin, exposed before Stiles' hungry, darkening, predatory eyes.

"Come collect your prize." Lydia teased softly, seductively.

And Stiles immediately discarded his robe, revealing his bare body, and lunged at her, tackling her to the floor, placing his arms on either side of her, and kissing her wildly. Madly. Fiercely. Hungrily. Passionately.

Lydia smiled in triumph to her inner self.

Yes, she lost, but now, the real game was about to begin.