To Catch A Con Man - Stanley Pines x Reader (female)

I woke to the sound of slow, steady breathing beside me, the warmth of another body seeping into my skin. The early morning light filtered through the thin curtains, casting a golden glow over the room. I blinked, my mind still foggy with sleep, and turned my head to the side.

Stan lay next to me, sprawled comfortably on his back, one arm tucked behind his head. The blanket was pushed down to his waist, leaving his chest bare, the morning light highlighting the scars and the firm lines of muscle. His skin was warm where it brushed against mine, and his breaths were deep, unhurried. But his eyes were open. He wasn't asleep—just watching me.

I swallowed, my face heating at the memory of the night before. Nothing had happened beyond the kissing, the teasing, the way he'd pulled me against him like he had no intention of letting go. But still, waking up beside him like this, tangled in his sheets, felt strangely intimate.

"You sleep alright?" His voice was rough, still heavy with sleep, but there was something amused in the way he said it. Like he already knew the answer.

I nodded, stretching slightly. "Yeah. You?"

His smirk was slow, lazy. "Can't complain."

I rolled my eyes, pushing myself up onto my elbows, intending to get out of bed, but the second I moved, his hand shot out, wrapping around my wrist. His grip was firm but unhurried, the warmth of his palm sending a shiver up my arm.

"Where do you think you're goin'?" His voice was lower now, quieter, but still laced with that same teasing edge.

"To make breakfast.", I said, arching a brow at him.

Stan let out a slow hum, like he was considering it, but he didn't let go. Instead, his thumb traced a lazy circle against the inside of my wrist, his grip keeping me anchored in place.

"Nah.", he muttered, pulling me back down effortlessly. "Not yet."

I let out a small huff as I fell back onto the mattress, and he took the opportunity to shift, rolling onto his side so that he was closer now, his face only inches from mine. His smirk deepened as he propped himself up on one elbow, his free hand still wrapped loosely around my wrist.

"Y'know", he murmured, voice still heavy with sleep, "it's real nice wakin' up to you." His eyes flickered over my face, slower than before, like he was memorizing every little detail. "Maybe I wanna enjoy it a little longer."

My breath caught slightly, but I tried to play it off, tilting my head at him. "You just don't wanna get out of bed."

His smirk widened. "Can't it be both?"

I rolled my eyes again, but I didn't pull away. Something about the way he was looking at me, warm and unguarded in the soft morning light, made me want to stay. Just for a little while.

I glanced at the window, the sunlight spilling across the room, but I had no idea what time it was. The peaceful stillness of the morning made it feel like we had all the time in the world, but eventually, I'd have to get up. I had a million things to do, and the clock was probably ticking.

"Hey...", I muttered, trying to ignore how tempting it was to just stay here forever. "What time is it?"

Stan didn't answer immediately. Instead, his thumb brushed against my wrist again, slow and deliberate, like he was enjoying the feeling of having me so close. I could feel the weight of his gaze on me, like he was more interested in the way I was looking at him than the time.

I turned my head to look at him, and he finally met my eyes with a lazy smirk. "Time?" He scoffed softly, his fingers still tracing circles on my skin. "What does it matter?"