"Bad dog! Bad!" "What the hellβ¦" a low unamused whine followed your words, as Stiles β dramatic as the boy was β sprayed you with a spritz bottle of icy water... conveniently placed right on his bedside table. Like he'd known you would try to bite him. Again.
Dating you β Stiles has long figured out β was a trust the process kind of thing. You were a part of Scott's pack, a werewolf. And so, more times than he was really comfortable with, has he seen your sharp canine teeth from uh... really up close. Even in situations that didn't really require you to show β or use β them. Situations that weren't necessarily threatening.
Like, right now, the smart boy really just wanted to get a little make out going, maybe some heavy petting too β with you, his boyfriend. But like often, you seemed to have other plans, when your canines suddenly and quite literally pressed into the skin of his neck.
Were you trying to kill him? Eat him?? Possible! But it wasn't the first time... So, obviously, he'd come prepared with a spritz bottle as to correct your behavior.
"Seriously, your teeth are ridiculously sharp," he grumbled.