Word: Writhen
...
Writhen roots twisted their way out of the ground, making them perfect for Stiles to trip over and fall flat on his face. Sure, the trees looked pretty and kinda supernatural all twirled up like that, but for every day running for your life? They totally sucked.
"Don't say a thing, Derek," Stiles grumbled, brushing the leaves and dirt off his body.
Derek just smirked and offered Stiles his hand to help him up. Grinning up at him brightly, he took the offered hand, Derek pulling him to his feet with no effort at all. Stiles wasn't expecting to be lifted quite that easily (c'mon, he'd bulked up over summer, dammit!), and windmilled his arms, careening into Derek and knocking them both over.
"If you wanted to top, you just had to ask," Derek snickered.
Stiles' eyes widened and he licked his lips quickly. "Yes. Let's do that. Right now. Or somewhere with less leaves and twigs," he amended.
"What about the hag?"
"Scott 'n the others will deal with her; they already said as much. Come on, sex. Now," Stiles said, getting up and tugging Derek to his feet.
They both knew that Derek could have resisted him easily, but he let Stiles lead him back to the car without protest. Stiles decided that those twisted trees weren't so bad after all.
...
End of word challenge.
Thanks for reading!
