I finally got around to compiling my list of fics I’ve read in the past two weeks and I’m kinda proud of how many of my backlogged fics I managed to get through!
(*) - fics that are regularly updated.
Dydia
I Just (Want You Closer) (tumblr post) by lonniek (@queerlylonnie)
| Complete | 2,265 | E | PWP | Pegging | Daddy Kink | Sub Derek Hale |
Derek has had a long day. He just wants to come home and unwind. When Lydia takes control, letting go is a breeze.
McHaleinski
Triple Scoop (tumblr post) by hazelNuts (@fandom-madnessess)
| Complete | 2,004 words | G | Polyamory | Ice Cream Parlors | Human AU | Mutual Pining |
bleep0bleep asked: "mchaleinski prompt: scott and stiles have an ice cream shop and then derek opens one up across the street. rivalry but also crushes!"
‘Look at him. Just look at him! With his stupid novelty flavours and his stupid artsy signs and his stupid muscles and his stupid smile.’
Scott snorts.
‘What?’ Stiles asks, turning away from the window.
‘That’s the fastest you’ve ever gone from insulting to complimenting,’ Scott says.
‘I am not complimenting our nemesis! I'm assessing his assets so I know where to strike.’
Stackson
All Fools in Love (tumblr post) by hazelNuts (@fandom-madnessess)
| Complete | 1,468 words | G | April Fools’ Day | Getting Together |
Jackson wants to cheer Stiles up after he's had several jokes played on him. He might make a fool of himself in the process, but it's totally worth it.
Jackson rolls the pebbles in his hand. The soft ticktick of the rocks is the only sound in the night. Well, that and the pounding of his heart, but he’s pretty sure only he can the latter. He checks his phone again. One more minute.
His hands twitch to his jacket pocket, where he put his car keys. It’s not too late to leave.
Sterek
Jellybean by @ask-haleinski
| Complete | 3,186 words | G | Tumblr fic | Established Sterek | Kid fic | Accidental Child Acquisition |
anon asked: You should give the baby a name!
anon asked: Are you going to keep the baby?
anon asked: Are you and Derek prepared for if/when you find her parents? Are you ready to let her go?
Kiss Me on This Cold December Night (tumblr post) by Leslie_Knope (@leslieknopeismyspiritanimal)
| Complete | 18,975 words | E | Christmas | Fluff | Future Fic |
The hairs on the back of Stiles’ neck tingle, and he swallows hard against the unmistakable sensation of someone staring at him. He’s tempted to just ignore it, but after a few seconds, his curiosity wins out and he looks up from his phone instead. He doesn’t notice anything right away, flicking his gaze along the people on the other side of the intersection until he suddenly stops and backtracks. It’s a little hard to see, what with the thick drizzle and the cars whizzing between them, but he would recognize that glorious bearded face anywhere, even after six years. Holy shit.
Possibili(tea) (tumblr post) by dragon_temeraire (@dragon-temeraire)
| Complete | 1,096 words | T | Mutual Pining | Humor | Tea Shops | Shy Derek Hale |
Stiles might have a crush on his co-worker, who always brews him amazing tea.
*Put Down in Words (tumblr post) by paintedrecs (@paintedrecs)
| WIP 13/31 | 69,324 words | M | Slow Build | College AU | Human AU | Professor Derek Hale |
“Oh,” Stiles said, his voice coming out low and breathy, “fuck me.”
“I don’t think that’s on the syllabus, but we can check to see if there’s a spot open in any of his classes,” Scott said, grinning.
“This isn’t an actual professor, though,” Stiles insisted, unable to resist brushing his thumb over the sharp line of the man’s bearded jaw. He was laughing at something off-camera, the shot taken in three-quarters view, his coat collar casually rumpled and opened to reveal a sliver of a simple grey t-shirt. The whole thing was deliberately calculated to lend him a more accessible feel, and god help him, Stiles was falling for it.
*
When Stiles signed up for Dr. Hale’s intro to history class, he had two goals: knock out the credits his advisor was bugging him to complete before he graduated, and spend a few hours a week daydreaming about his sexy professor’s salt and pepper beard.
Derek, a few months away from turning forty and not sure when his life had started feeling so damn lonely, had never encountered someone like Stiles before. Bright-eyed, sharp-tongued, determined to throw Derek’s carefully cultivated world into disarray…and absolutely the last person Derek should be falling in love with.
Separation by @nogitsunelichen
| Complete | 635 words | T | Tumblr fic | Angst | Violence | Kidnapped Stiles Stilinski | Kidnapped Derek Hale | Hunters | Nongraphic Torture | Established Sterek |
“Stop! Just stop it please—STOP!” Stiles screams, fists banging against the wall, his voice hoarse from his pleas.
The thick concrete wall (built with mountain ash, Derek tried punching through it several times) separating their cells stood between them, the only constant within the bleak four walls that caged them in. He was covered in blood, sweat, dirt, and everything inbetween. His mouth tastes vile and he can’t remember the last time he inhaled a breath of fresh air.
Derek had been keeping tally marks on the wall with his claws, it was the only way to tell how many days had passed. It’s been two days, or at least one, Stiles doesn’t know. The reason he doesn’t know is because two days ago (or one?) hunters entered Derek’s cell and did something to him, something to cause him to scream and growl in pain for the last twenty, thirty, hell forty something hours.
Werewolves were strong, but Stiles didn’t know if Derek had much left in him.
Sexually Precocious Teenagers (tumblr post) by dragon_temeraire (@dragon-temeraire)
| Complete | 2,054 words | T | Fluff | Getting Together | Asexual Stiles Stilinski |
Stiles is pretty sure his asexuality is a deal-breaker that will keep him from having a relationship with Derek. (Spoiler alert: it’s not.)
untitled by @bibliosexxual
| Complete | 1,660 words | T | High School AU | Fluff | Meet-Cute |
Prompt: “We both tried to grab at the last copy of that desired book at the same time and had a tug of war.”
untitled by @captain-snark
| Complete | 1,216 words | T | Tumblr fic | Humor | Misunderstandings |
kavesinisukka replied to your post “So my husband has a doppelganger that does gay porn”
untitled by @captain-snark
| Complete | 1,927 words | M | Tumblr fic | Stripper Stiles Stilinski | Lap Dances |
The funny thing is, Derek didn’t even want to go. He’d paced around his loft staring down at his cell phone and debated calling Boyd back, refusing, he had work tomorrow, some people had legitimate jobs they had to get to in the morning. He knew Boyd would show up anyway so he figured there wasn’t a point to pointing out just how absolute shit Derek was at actually socializing.
So, that’s how he’d gotten dragged to ‘Python’ in the first place, and he was definitely not even touching that name. It was loud, as was to be expected, Go Go boys dancing along the stage that wound itself around the edges of the club. It smelled like booze and cheap cologne and Boyd had laughed openly at the look of hostile displeasure Derek knew must be plastered across his face.
untitled by @thepsychicclam
| Complete | 1,170 words | G | Tumblr fic | Established Sterek | Kid fic | Domestic fluff |
Stiles watches Derek sometimes. When he’s in the living room, Patrick lying on his chest like a tiny newborn extension of the two of them. Stiles leans against the doorframe and crosses his arms over his chest and just watches. He knows that Derek feels him nearby, but Derek doesn’t move, doesn’t let on that he knows Stiles is there at all.
There’s no one else in the world except Derek and his cub.
Dydia fic || ~4k || Five times Lydia drove one handed + one time she didn’t drive at all. || Read on AO3
One
Lydia’s car window won’t go up. She turns her car on and off and tries the button again. Nothing. She’d only rolled it down to get a spider out and now it won’t go up.
Lydia sighs and puts the car into drive anyway. At least she can park it in the garage at home, so security isn’t going to be an issue.
What is going to be an issue is the rain.
When she exits the company carpark it’s falling steadily from the sky. Lydia idles in the driveway. She’s got a twenty-minute drive home and no way of sealing her window. She could leave the car here overnight and call for a taxi or get the bus; she really doesn’t want her leather seats getting wet and mouldy.
As she’s debating her choices, the rain eases somewhat, and Lydia decides to brave it. She has an umbrella in her bag and in a move fuelled possibly by her hunger and sore feet, gets it out, sticks her arm through the driver’s side window and opens the umbrella. One hand for the umbrella, one hand for the wheel. Indicating might be an issue but she’ll take the back way home to avoid major roads.
Her arm starts hurting after the first few minutes but she powers through, thinking of what the water damage will do to her seats if she doesn’t. Besides, this way she can skip arm day at the gym.
Lydia’s vision is impaired by her solid black umbrella, but she drives slow, a few clicks below the speed limit, and makes sure to check her rear-view constantly. She notices the patrol car behind her but doesn’t think much of it until its lights start flashing and it indicates for her to pull over. She does so, not having to bother to roll down her window seeing as it’s already stuck that way. Instead, she just raises the umbrella so she can see out, and waits as the deputy gets out of the patrol car with his own much larger, much sturdier umbrella.
“Evening, ma’am.”
“Evening.”
The deputy isn’t anyone Lydia’s familiar with. Unsurprising, seeing as she only knows one person who works at the station and she’s currently on leave.
“May I see your license, please.”
Lydia hands it to him and waits while he checks it over.
“Are you aware that driving one handed is illegal?” He hands back her license.
“Yes, I am aware,” Lydia replies, trying not to show how near the end of her tether she is right now, arm aching and cold from holding the umbrella.
“Do you normally choose to break that law?” He asks, with some sarcasm that is not helping Lydia’s attitude.
“No, deputy, but my window won’t roll up and my seats are leather.” Lydia smiles with bite, hoping he’ll just give her a ticket so she can get herself home.
What she doesn’t expect is for the deputy to do the opposite. Which is, to not give her a ticket.
“Did you turn your car off and on again?”
“Several times,” Lydia says, with a bit of desperation creeping into her voice.
“Okay,” the deputy says, then looks over to his car. He stares for a bit, during which Lydia can’t help but admire his profile – strong cheekbones, straight nose. He turns back to her and leans down so they’re closer to the same level, taking away some of his authority. “I’ve got plastic wrap and some duct-tape in my trunk. Would you like me to cover the window?”
“Oh.” Lydia was honestly expecting the ticket. “That would be really great, actually. Thank you, deputy.”
“No worries. I’m afraid I’m going to rope you into to helping me though,” he says with a polite smile.
“That’s fine, it is my car.” Lydia turns off the engine and gets out, but is then stuck. She’s still using her umbrella to shield her car, but it’s left her standing in the rain.
“Here.” The deputy hands her his umbrella.
“Swap instead?” Lydia offers.
“Sure.” The deputy waits until Lydia takes his umbrella, the handle warm from his hand, and then takes her much smaller umbrella and jogs over to his car. He turns the flashing lights off while he’s there, which drains some pressure from the situation. The umbrella looks comically small as the deputy is noticeably taller and broader than Lydia.
He comes back with the sheeting, and a fat roll of duct tape. The shoulders of his uniform are slightly rain-speckled, and the bottom of his pants are beginning to cling around his calves. He collapses Lydia’s umbrella and then Lydia holds the larger one over them both as he cuts a length of the sheeting using a pocket knife, then double folds it and starts taping it on the outside of her car.
“Let me know if the paint comes off with this later and I’ll see what I can do about getting your paint fixed.”
Lydia is touched by his thoughtfulness. It’s clear that she’s found one of the deputies who’s chosen the career out of a pure heart and not a hard-on for power.
“I’ll be alright. I probably need to get the window checked by a mechanic anyway.”
The deputy finishes up, then takes his umbrella back from Lydia. They share it for a moment.
“I’ll let you off with a warning this time, but Miss Martin?” He waits to make sure she’s paying attention.
“Yes?” She cranes her neck upwards so she can look into his eyes more comfortably.
“Next time, keep both hands on the wheel.”
“Alright,” Lydia agrees easily.
The deputy nods and smiles at her. He opens her passenger door, leaning closer to her to do so. He’s warm and smells like rain and coffee. He holds the umbrella over her as she gets in, then shuts the door, raps his knuckles on the roof, and heads back to his own car.
Lydia watches him drive away, mood unexpectedly lifted by his kindness. She resolves to ask her friend about him when she’s back from leave.
Two
Lydia’s driving home from a half day at work, taking the afternoon off to meet with Allison, who she hasn’t seen since she returned from her honeymoon a week ago.
Lydia’s phone rings while she passes the corner of Dermont and Heather, and when she goes to accept the call via her Bluetooth, remembers she’s had it disabled for days.
“Crap,” Lydia looks ahead for a space to pull over, but can’t see any.
Ordinarily she’d let the phone ring out, but it’s probably someone from work, and she did tell her staff she’d stay on call. She pulls over to the side lane, slowing down so others can pass her, and reaches blindly in her bag. The ringing stops before she finds her phone.
“Well, I hope that wasn’t urgent.”
The phone starts up again. This time Lydia turns the corner into a side-street, but there’s no-parking signs along the roadside so she reaches into her bag again, keeping her eyes on the road, this time managing to find her phone and answer it.
“Hello?”
“Lyds. Hey! How are you going?”
Lydia smiles as Allison’s enthusiasm comes through her phone. “Allison. Hello. I’m very well. Looking forward to lunch.”
Lydia turns without indicating into another unknown side-street. Thankfully, there are cars parked along this one, so she scans the street for a spot.
“I know, me too. I’ve missed you.”
Lydia smiles and laughs. “It was only a month. But I get you. I—” Police sirens start up behind Lydia. “Hang on a sec, Al.”
Lydia checks the rear-view mirror and sure enough, flashing lights are approaching behind her. She pulls over, assuming the car will pass her, not realising she’s the one being pulled over.
“Oh shit.” The police car stops across the way from her, pulled into a driveway.
Allison’s voice comes through muffled from the phone Lydia’s holding away from her ear. “—going on. Lyds? What were the sirens about?”
“I’ve been pulled over,” Lydia admits.
“What for,” Allison demands, cop voice making an appearance.
“I assume talking on the phone.”
“Lydia!”
“I know, I know,” Lydia rushes to say, “I forgot to enable my Bluetooth. I thought you were work and there was nowhere to pull over.”
“Babe, I think you’re just going to have to take the ticket,” Allison tells her.
Lydia doesn’t mind that much. It’s not like she can’t pay, and she knows she was driving illegally. Still, no-one likes getting a ticket.
A deputy steps out of the police car. It’s the same man from the other day, the one she was going to ask Allison about.
“Well, I should probably hang up. If you want, I—”
“No, wait,” Lydia interrupts. “While I’ve got you on the phone, I was meaning to ask you about a new deputy at the station.”
“I’ve been away for a month,” Allison points out.
“And back at work four days already,” Lydia counters. Lydia watches the deputy get approached by a young boy, who he stops to talk to. Thank god. “He’s tall, broad shouldered, very kind, incredibly muscled, dark hair—”
“Derek Hale. I think, at least. The only other newbie was a woman, so—wait, how do you know he’s kind?”
“He pulled me over the other day for driving one handed.”
Allison laughs. “Well, you’re definitely getting a ticket then.”
“Didn’t get one last time,” Lydia says absently, watching as the deputy, Derek Hale, nears her car.
Allison’s silent on the other end.
“Al?”
“Sorry, sorry, just picturing the beginning of this terrible porn I saw once. I hope it didn’t go down like that?”
“Okay, one, I’m flattered and offended, and two, could you talk him out of giving me another one? Here he is.”
Lydia holds her phone out the window to Derek, who’s now arrived, having helped the boy chase down his dog, an event which Lydia has been watching with amusement while talking to Allison.
Derek stares down at her phone.
“It’s Deputy Argent,” Lydia waves the phone. “She wants to speak to you.”
Derek picks up Lydia’s phone like it’s an explosive, and holds it to his ear. He turns his back to her and Lydia takes the time to look him over. Derek’s on the phone less than a minute before he’s giving it back, looking both amused and confused.
Lydia accepts the phone and goes to talk to Allison.
“I hung up,” Derek says.
Lydia puts the phone down in the drink holder. “What did Allison say?”
“That I should give you two tickets.”
“Huh.” Lydia leans her arm out along the opened window.
“You were driving one handed and talking on your phone,” Derek says in a disappointed tone that sparks a gut reaction.
“Yes, I had noticed,” Lydia replies with sarcasm, riding the line between indolence and flirtation, aware on the one hand the Derek is an officer of the law—and a new one at that—and on that other hand, that he’s an attractive man near her own age.
“License please,” Derek says, and Lydia retrieves it for him without fuss.
She bites her lip while Derek writes out a ticket for her. Probably best not to do anything to add a third ticket. She takes the first slip and her license when he holds them out for her, then waits. Derek puts the notepad into his back pocket.
“No second ticket?”
“I told you it was a warning, not a ticket. I’m not changing my decision.”
Lydia hums. “I admire that.”
Derek nods at Lydia, then turns to leave.
“Hey. Derek.”
Derek looks over his shoulder and raises an eyebrow at the use of his first name.
“Argent?” He asks.
Lydia shrugs. “Who else?”
“Deputy Hale,” Derek corrects, then adds, with a bit of emotion. “I’m on duty.”
“Deputy Hale. I just wanted to say sorry.”
Derek turns back fully to Lydia. “What for?”
“For sassing you earlier.”
Derek smiles for a half-second before it disappears. “Sassing me?” He asks flatly, but Lydia can see his lips quirk at the corners.
“Which time,” he delivers like an insult and not a question.
Lydia laughs, surprised by the sly humour, and Derek not only smiles again, but laughs along. She watches in wonder as the action brings a new life to his features.
“Anyway,” Derek says, after abruptly stopping his laughter. “I should get back to patrol.”
“Okay,” Lydia says easily, still smiling.
“But, Ms. Martin—”
“Lydia.”
“Ms. Martin. I’m on duty.” It’s almost a friendly reminder; a joke.
Lydia rolls her eyes.
“Next time, keep both hands on the wheel.”
Derek walks away after giving Lydia a look of emphasised reprimand. Lydia waits until his car is clear of the street, then parks properly and calls Allison back, hoping to get some insider information on the state of Derek’s romantic life.
Three
Lydia fidgets in her seat, rubbing her back against the car seat to try and reposition her bra while she’s driving. There had been an incident with her washing machine, and also a lot of long shifts at work, and two separate birthday dinners for friends. Somewhere in the middle of all that, Lydia’s washing didn’t get done.
She’s down to her third last pair of clean underwear, and her least favourite bra. She’d forgotten why until she’d been wearing it for a few hours, after which the underwire went from being noticeable but not annoying, to digging into her skin and irritating it. She’s been hyper-focused at work trying to take her mind off it, but now that she’s in the car, not even listening to music at a loud volume and singing along can take away the annoyance of her bra.
“That’s it, I’m fucking taking you off.”
Lydia untucks her shirt from her skirt one-handed. The car doesn’t stay that straight but it stays on the right side of the road so she doesn’t care about that as much compared to how good it’s going to feel to have her bra off. With her shirt untucked, she goes for the clasp at the back. Undoing it is an immediate relief, and she awkwardly rubs her hand over the indents it’s left.
After that it gets trickier and more confusing. Trying to pull the straps down past her long sleeves is impossible with one hand. Luckily, she remembers she’s wearing her versatile bra and can just unclip the straps which she does. Then she unbuttons the top few buttons on her shirt and pulls the bra out.
Victorious, she throws the bra onto her dashboard and sighs out, closing her eyes for a second longer than she should.
She turns the music back on after she’d cut it off in her frustration earlier, which is why it isn’t until the car pulls up beside her that she notices, yep, that’s Deputy Hale again, asking her to pull over.
She does so without fuss, window down and wallet open, ready to retrieve her licence.
“Ms. Martin, this is—
Derek cuts off. Lydia looks up to see Derek’s mouth slightly open, and his cheeks somewhat flushed. His gaze is focussed on her dashboard.
Then Lydia remembers. Her bra is sitting there.
Lydia considers moving the bra, but now that he’s seen it, that seems pointless, so she simply takes out her license, and holds it out to Derek.
“Here’s my license,” she says, when Derek doesn’t move immediately to take it.
Derek blinks and looks down at it. “Right,” he says, grabbing it and clearing his throat.
He’s writing a ticket and not looking at her when he asks gruffly, “So, uh, have you… been somewhere?”
Normally, Lydia would lecture whatever cop was trying to pry into her personal affairs on the illegality of their actions, which would not only be ironic in this circumstance, but also, not the right fit for their dynamic, which feels almost friendly after the banter of their last meeting, and for the fact Lydia knows Derek has asked Allison about her (and that she’s done the same, and now knows more about Derek than other deputies she’s known twice as long).
So, Lydia feels fine to simply answer Derek’s question.
“Work,” she says simply.
Derek’s head comes up so fast Lydia’s worried about his neck. He looks between her and her bra.
“Work?” His voice pitches higher than normal.
“At the courthouse on High Street. Had a case with housing court,” Lydia expands. “There’s a whole story with my laundry and life and uncomfortable underwear, but I, uh, don’t think our relationship is quite there yet.”
“Oh.” Derek sighs out. He finishes filling in the ticket then gives it back to Lydia. “Which firm are you with then?”
It’s more personal questions, and normally in this circumstance Lydia wouldn’t engage with small talk. It’s Derek, though, and she senses he’s asking with legitimate interest and friendly intentions. She can’t resist the opportunity to answer.
“Simpson Watercress.”
He nods in recognition then leans down to her window and asks, “Do you know Danny Mahealani then?”
“Yeah, I know him.” Lydia is surprised Derek knows anyone at her firm, with how recently he moved into town. “He’s great. We went to high school together.”
“I haven’t seen him in years.”
“Oh, how do you know him?” Lydia asks with genuine interest.
Derek purses his lips before surprising Lydia again by saying, “He’s an ex.”
“Oh.” Lydia’s gut clenches at the new information, and she finds herself feeling suddenly dejected.
“I’m pansexual,” Derek answers the unspoken question.
Lydia’s never been great with people coming out to her. She’s not sure what to say. Thankfully Derek’s radio solves the problem for her.
“Promise me you’ll keep both hands on the wheel next time?” Derek asks after replying to the message.
“Promise.”
“And buy yourself more comfortable underwear.”
Lydia’s left gaping.
Four
It’s not a good day for Lydia. Work seems intent on screwing her over, several stupid little inconveniences piling up, and back to back meetings in the morning meaning she doesn’t get a proper lunch. She gets chastised by her boss for the half-day she took last week, and her backup files get corrupted and it takes IT almost two hours to retrieve them, during which Lydia has to fight not to burst into tears.
She saves those for her car trip home, taking the back way so no-one’s around, sobbing messily to get the tension out of her shoulders. She reaches into her bag when she’s on a quiet street to pull out her tissue packet, slowing down but keeping the car moving. She blows her nose while still driving.
Red and blue lights flash in her rear-view mirror. It’s really not her day.
She tries to stop the flow of tears but she’s got too much stress to get rid of, that she continues to bawl as she pulls over and parks, winding down her window, and reaching with shaky hands to get her license from her bag.
“License and registration,” Deputy Hale asks, because of course it’s him. Of course.
“Give me a sec,” Lydia hiccups, drawing in shaky breathes. She can’t find her damn ID. “Sorry. I swear it’s in here. I just can’t—I can’t find it.”
“Ms. Martin?” Deputy Hale sounds concerned. “Are you all right?”
“Yes. No.” Lydia exhales and shakes her head. “It’s been a bad day.”
She looks out the window to Derek, who’s leaning down toward her window, expression filled with concern. Lydia wipes at her eyes and holds her breath to try and stop the tears.
“Wait here,” Derek says, then hurries back to his patrol car. He comes back with a travel thermos which he passes through the window to Lydia.
“What is it?”
“Green tea. I thought you might like it.”
Lydia bites her lip and stares up at Deputy Hale.
“I shouldn’t—This is your mug.”
“I have several,” he replies earnestly. “Got a lot from various family members when I told them I was becoming a deputy. They’re not that good at organising presents.”
It’s more of the same personal confessions Lydia heard from Derek last time they saw each other. Lydia likes it. Likes the little smile on his face talking about his family has brought out.
She feels a new rush of tears coming on and she struggles to get her seatbelt off, opening the door in a rush and throwing her arms around Derek, who’s surprise only lasts a moment before his arms come to rest lightly on her back.
Lydia hugs him until she’s calm enough to realise that it’s inappropriate for her to be doing so.
“Sorry. I’m sorry,” she says, pulling back. “It’s just, you’ve made my day, honestly.”
“Don’t mention it,” Derek says, looking away from Lydia.
“I got mascara on your uniform,” Lydia points out when she realises.
Derek looks down and presses his fingers over the marked spot. “Don’t worry,” he shrugs. “I’ve got plenty of these at home.”
“Let me pay for dry-cleaning or something, please?”
“Lydia, don’t worry.”
The use of her name stops her, and Lydia blinks at the deputy.
“You—okay. Okay.” She takes a deep breath and drops her shoulders on the exhale. “I won’t.”
“Good.” He smiles at her. “You feeling alright to drive now?”
Lydia nods at him, and pulls the mug she’s still holding against her chest, feeling it warm against her skin (though not as warm as Derek had been).
“I’ll see you around then. You can keep the mug. Oh, and next time,” Derek says, “keep two hands on the wheel.”
Lydia laughs for the first time today.
Five
Lydia’s driving around the streets of Beacon Hills aimlessly, eyes out for a certain patrol vehicle whose license plate she’d gotten from Allison in return for the promise of a Jason Bourne marathon.
She’s gone through an entire playlist on her Ipod already before she spots the car, parked by the side of the road with a portable speed camera.
Lydia smiles to herself and tries not to feel too Kristin Wiig as she winds her windows down, drives past the car, and lifts both hands off the wheel.
Derek levers himself off from where he’d been leaning against the front of the car holding the speed camera. He raises his arms at her in an exaggerated shrug, and shakes his head. Lydia does a u-turn on the deserted road and does it again, no hands on the wheel.
Derek tilts his head at her and Lydia waves.
She does another u-turn. Derek leans in through the open window of his car to start the lights up. He points obviously to her and gestures her in.
Lydia smiles and parks the car in front of Derek’s.
“Ms. Martin,” Derek says, with arms crossed over his chest. “What on earth are you doing?”
“Getting your attention. Did it work?” Lydia stops a few steps away from Derek and holds his gaze.
Derek keeps a stern look on his face, and Lydia watches for signs of a smile.
“You do remember me telling you to keep both hands on the wheel, yes?”
Lydia nods and takes a step closer to Derek.
“And you are aware that you had no hands on the wheel just now?”
Another nod. Another step.
“Well, you’ve got my attention.”
“Good.”
“What did you want it for.”
“You should take me on a date.”
Derek’s eyes widen noticeably. Lydia smiles openly at him, and he clears his throat.
“Lydia, I, uh…” Derek shuffles and his stance goes from formal, to more relaxed. “I think we both know you’d be taking me on a date.”
Lydia’s heart flips.
“Well then,” she steps forward. “I’ll pick you up tomorrow night after your shift.”
“I didn’t say yes,” Derek states.
“But you said ‘Lydia’, and you’re on duty.”
Derek looks away and shakes his head. Lydia takes the opportunity to step up and kiss him on the cheek.
Derek startles and turns back to face her.
“You know this is the absolute strangest way anyone has asked me out.”
“I try to be original.”
Derek’s look softens, and he replies, “I don’t think there’s anyone else like you.”
Lydia’s cheeks heat. She looks away from Derek.
“Hey, Lydia.”
“Yes?”
“You’re not getting out of the ticket just because we’re going on a date tomorrow.”
Derek holds out a slip for her. Lydia narrows her eyes at him, but takes it. It’s worth it.
+ One
Derek is in the driver’s seat, taking Lydia back to his place after their dinner date. Lydia’s playing soft music from her phone, and looking out the window at the streetlights.
Something warm lands on her hand and she looks down to see Derek’s hand wrapping over hers. She flips her hand over to lace their fingers together. Derek takes his eyes off the road briefly to smile at her. She returns it easily, leaning her head fall back against the head rest, feeling warm inside.
“Derek?” She lifts their entwined hands to kiss his knuckles.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Teen Wolf (TV)
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Relationships: Derek Hale/Lydia Martin
Characters: Derek Hale, Lydia Martin
Additional Tags: Full Shift Werewolves, Full Shift Werewolf Derek Hale, Praise Kink, Missionary Position, Naked Male Clothed Female, Worry, Fear, Top Derek Hale, Banshee Lydia Martin, Teen Wolf (TV) Season 4, Evolved Derek Hale
Series: Part 11 of Kinktober 2023, Part 10 of Whumptober 2023
Summary:
When Lydia senses Derek's death, she isn't there to help him. He comes back to her and shows her how much she means to him.
okay but that picture: Lydia who grew up on a farm, who tries to hide her roots as much as possible when she moves away. She's embarrassed, because people in academia look down on her for it. The Hales own the plot of land next to her family's, and she and Derek used to play together as kids, climbing trees and jumping fences and getting into trouble. He almost doesn't recognize her when she comes back, 4-inch heels that aren't good in mud, perfect hair instead of wisps coming out of her braid.
OKAY FIRST OF ALL RUDE
SECOND OF ALL - Kat you are a goddess who inspired me to write something for the first time in weeks.
THIRDLY - there’s a slight possibility that I based Lydia off of me oh god
So this is 5k of farm au where Derek and Lydia used to be best friends and then they grew up and Lydia came back and they have sex. Basically. Warnings: nsfw, unprotected sex
{also on AO3}
(this is the pic that inspired this fic)
All it had taken was her freshman roommatesneering when she told her she grew up on a farm, smirking when she asked ifLydia had brought her overalls along with her, for Lydia to start feelingashamed of her roots. It had never occurred to her before that she should hideit, growing up in a rural town had made her proud to live on her grandparents’farm. After her parents’ divorce during second grade, Lydia and her mom hadmoved back in with her grandparents, and she’d always been grateful for that silverlining to her parents’ split.
On her second day offreshman year she called her dad and asked oh so sweetly for money to buy newclothes. He was happy to comply of course, money was something he had a lot of,and it was easier for him to keep her bank account full than actually bea dad. She did someresearch before she went shopping, paying careful attention to the sororitygirls stretched out on the quad, flipping through issues of Cosmo for thelatest fashions. It wasn’t that she’d ever been frumpy, but in Beacon Hills herfloral blouses and skinny jeans and Tony Lama’s had been more fashionable than anythinganyone else wore.
She traded in the jeans for skirts and herboots for high heels, spending hours walking up and down the hall of her dormto break them in. She deep conditioned her hair and got a blowout, had the hairstylist teach her how to make it curl just right. By week two she was a totallydifferent person, unrecognizable from the pretty enough country girl she’d beenbefore she left home. Now she looked like she belonged in LA, her lipscarefully lined and her lashes long and black. People turned their heads whenshe crossed the quad, and her purse was full of phone numbers slipped to herduring class.
It didn’t take very long for Lydia to stopfeeling like she was someone else. She began to believe that this was reallyher. And she felt good, she liked the attention. She started working out,convinced she needed to lose the softness to her belly, needed to sculpt herlegs and stomach to match the strength of her arms. Back in Beacon Hills shenever really thought too much about how she looked, she’d always been theprettiest girl in her grade, and everyone had known everyone since they werekids. They all knew what she looked like when she went through her awkwardstage in fourth grade, and they’d all seen her in her bikini at the swimminghole in the summer.
She rarely returned to the farm, studyingabroad or doing internships during the summers. Her visits were always brief,and she spent them with her mom and grandparents, soaking up the fresh air andhome cooked food and the sound of roosters crowing in the morning.
A week before graduation she accepted a joboffer at a biotech company that was only a forty minute drive from BeaconHills. For the first time in four years she was returning home.
“I heard that Hale boy is still single,” Gramsays over her shoulder, lips pulling up into a smirk as she washesdishes. “He’s quite the looker you know.”
“Gram,” Lydia groans and rolls her eyes. “Iknow what Derek looks like. He was my best friend.” The past tense makesher chest feel tight. She still isn’t quite sure why they drifted apart, butthey did. The Hales owned the neighboring farm, five hundred acres splitbetween forest, hay fields, and pastures for the quarter horses they bred andraised. Lydia’s grandma and Derek’s aunt would take turns babysitting the threeHales and Lydia when Lydia’s mom and Derek’s mom were at work. Derek was twoyears older than her, but for some reason they clicked better than she did withCora, who was a year younger than her.
They remained fast friends all the way throughelementary and middle school, building forts and riding horses and swimming inthe creek. When they got older there was work too, making hay and picking stallsand weeding gardens. But it was fun with Derek by her side with his sarcasticcomments and the dimples that appeared in his cheeks when he laughed. Highschool changed something between them. They were still friends, Derek woulddrive her to school every day, and they hung out sometimes, but Derek got agirlfriend and became captain of the football team, and Lydia joined studentcouncil and the cheer squad. By the time Derek graduated, Lydia was alreadyspending more time with other people than him. By the time she graduated, theybarely spoke.
“I should go see him,” she says out loud,ignoring the way her grandmother waggles her eyebrows. She stands up beforeGram can say anything else, heels too loud on the linoleum as she heads for thedoor.
Back in the old days she would have runthrough the woods to the Hale house, her bare feet pounding down the path shecould have followed blindfolded. The path looks to be grown over now anyways,so this time she takes her car, driving out her grandparents’ dirt driveway andthen turning up the Hale’s.
Hale Hollow Farm still looks the same, thefaded red barn and the large garage covered in chipped white paint unchanged.There’s only one vehicle parked in front of the house, a shiny black pick-upwith a lift kit and super swampers. Lydia parks beside it, unable to stopherself from smirking when the top of her head doesn’t even reach the bottom ofthe trucks’ window.
She follows the sound of clanging into thegarage, her heels sinking uncomfortably into the soft dirt. Just inside thedoor she pauses, letting her eyes adjust to the shadowed garage. Her throatgoes dry as her eyes finally focus. Derek looks… good. There’s a bigdifference between twenty year old Derek Hale and twenty four year old DerekHale. Derek’s always been good looking, with his dark hair and pretty eyes andthe growth spurt he hit in seventh grade. But he’s broader now, his chestdefined and his arms corded and grease wiped all over the thin white tank tophe’s wearing. He hasn’t noticed her yet, so she takes another moment to admirethe scruff covering his jaw and the way his worn out jeans seem to mold to hisass.
She’s going to die.
While Derek had been her best friend, she’dalso kind of developed a giant crush on him that lasted from her tenth birthdayuntil well, now. She had big plans for Derek, used to dream about marrying him,about a wedding out in her grandparents’ apple orchard with flowers in her hairand Derek’s sisters dressed in pale pink. More seriously she had planned on himbeing her first, of kissing him outin their tree fort and letting him peel her out of her jeans up in the hayloft. But it never happened. Derek had a girlfriend in high school, so Lydiawent out on dates with boys. She had almost kissed him once, the night beforeshe left for college. She’d texted him on a whim, and they’d sat together inthe hay loft door, their feet dangling over the edge. Everything had beenperfect, the stars twinkling in the inky sky, the smell of fresh hay and abalmy late summer breeze ruffling their hair, but Lydia had chickened out atthe last minute, too scared to shatter the perfection she’d dreamed up in herhead.
So she’d had sex for the first time incollege, with a boy she didn’t really care about and after she’d decided thatthe whole concept of virginity wasn’t something she was too concerned withanyways.
Now when she looks at Derek she thinks aboutbeard burn on her inner thighs and how maybe she could show him a thing or twobetween the sheets.
“Hey Dee-Dee.”
Derek looks up from the tractor and the wrenchslips through his fingers, clattering loudly on the cement floor. It takes amoment for recognition to bloom across his face, eyes crinkling in the cornersand lips lifting into a small smile.
“Almost didn’t recognize you Red,” he smirksand bends to pick up the wrench. Lydia takes that as an invitation to comecloser. Her shoes sound all wrong on the cement, both too loud and too daintyat the same time. In the old days she would’ve hopped up on the tractor seat orthe work bench and watched him work, but she doesn’t want to get her dressdirty. “Heard you’re back for good.” Derek adds, brows dipping as he setsdown the wrench and grabs a ratchet instead.
“Yeah,” she nods, suddenly feeling sixteen andunsure and totally in love with this man. “Moved back last weekend.” Anawkward silence falls over them, only broken by the hum of the vent fan and adistant neighing.
“I was gonna go ridethe fence line,” Derek says after a moment. “Wanna come with?” His eyesare unsure when he glances at her over his shoulder, but they start to sparklewhen she nods eagerly, sliding up and down her body. “Well you’re notcoming like that.”
“Hey - I don’t appreciate your tone,” Lydiahuffs, crossing her arms and glaring at him. A lock of hair flops over her faceand she blows at it. Derek actually laughs out loud, and god does it look goodon him, with his head thrown back and the tendons in his neck jumping.
“You can keep the dress if you want Red, butyou know as well as I do that you can’t be riding a horse in those shoes.” He’sright, and he knows he’s right, and that smug little smirk is still just asinfuriating as it was six years ago. It’s also kind of hot, which is definitelya new thing.
“I can do a lot of things with my heels on,”she says, grinning when the tips of his ears burn red almostimmediately. “But for you I’ll go change.”
She sweeps out of the garage before he can sayanything else, though it’s mostly so he can’t see the way her own cheeks areflushing. Stepping out into the sunlight she feels light headed, though shethinks it might have more to do with Derek and less to do with the change inlight. She drives home too fast, taking the porch steps two at a time andkicking off her shoes before she races up the stairs to her room. All of herold clothes are waiting for her in her closet when she yanks it open, heartbeating too loud in her ears. Her jeans fit a little looser than they used too,and her old V-neck t-shirts seem a little more scandalous with the bras shewears now, but her boots still fit like a dream.
This time she takes the four wheeler down thepath through the woods, her hair blowing around her face in the wind. Derek’swaiting for her out in front of the garage, and it’s almost worse seeing him inthe sunlight, the curled brim of his TSC hat pulled low over his eyes and hisskin glowing in the sun.
His expression stays infuriatingly blank whenshe climbs off the four wheeler.
“Better?” She asks, twirling around in frontof him. He just groans and starts walking towards the wooden paddock fence.Lydia would be offended, but she can see the back of his neck turn red as shefollows him.
Out of habit she climbs up onto the fence,standing on top of one of the poles.
“I doubt-” Derek cuts himself off when shecups her hands around her mouth and whistles. For a second the entire farmseems to fall eerily silent, but it’s instantly broken by the sound of poundinghooves. Its Lydia’s turn to smirk smugly as a palomino comes galloping over thehill, the hair around her nose and eyes a little paler than Lydiaremembers. “You’ve got to be kidding me.” Derek huffs as the horse nibblesat Lydia’s knees and lets out a sigh when she crouches and rubs her hands alongher neck.
“How’s my girl,” Lydia coos, wobbling slightlyon the pole before lowering herself onto the horses back.
“Heidi isn’t yours,” Derek grumbles, thoughhis eyes are incredibly fond. “She’s mine.” Lydia just grins at him as sheleans forward and drapes herself along Heidi’s neck, scratching along her jawand behind her ears. Derek shakes his head as he clucks his tongue a few timesand starts walking towards the barn. Heidi follows him along the fence, hangingher head over when they reach the barn and letting him slip on abridle. “You good going bare back?”
“As long as you’re clean,” she shoots back,laughing when Derek swears and fumbles with the latch on the gate, the secondbridle he was holding falling to the ground.
“I meant on the horse.” He stomps past her toone of the locked stalls. A beautiful bay peeks his head over the stall doorand whinnies.
“I know what youmeant,” Lydia laughs. She watches intently as Derek slips the bridle on theyoung horses’ head, then grabs a saddle from the tack room. His biceps flex ashe sets it on the tack room door, and all of Lydia’s laughter dries up. Itsuddenly hits her how badly she wants him, wants to taste every inch of hisskin, wants his hands all over her.
Derek saddles thehorse up with ease, his fingers nimble as they smooth out the blanket andtighten the girth. He pulls himself up with a grace he never used to possess,going with it easily as the horse jumps forward.
“He’s still a littlegreen,” Derek explains as they start out towards the far corner of the paddock.Lydia just nods and lets Heidi follow them at her own pace, stopping every nowand then to nibble at some grass. Derek’s waiting for them impatiently at thefar gate, though he looks like he’s trying hard not to smile when Lydia getscloser.
“You two are aterrible pair,” he grumbles as he swings the gate open. Lydia just laughs andurges Heidi through, holding out a hand for Derek’s reigns after he walks hishorse through.
“Missed you too,”Lydia teases, watching over her shoulder as Derek latches the gate. He justhuffs, but when he takes the reigns back his fingers linger against hers just alittle too long, and Lydia thinks he might have really missed her.
By the time they makeit to the back of the pasture where the creek runs Lydia’s already sweatingthrough her shirt, unused to being out in the sun for this long. The watershimmers ahead like a mirage, and Lydia knows she’s being ridiculous, but shewants to go swimming something bad.It’s hot and she feels gross and any chance to see Derek Hale’s body is oneshe’s going to take.
“We should go swimming,”she announces, sliding off Heidi’s back.
“Do you have aswimsuit on?” Derek remains on his horses’ back, gaze heavy on Lydia’s back asshe walks Heidi over to a shade tree and loops the reigns around a low branch.
“No.” She keeps herback to him as she kicks off her boots and unbuttons her jeans, walking closerto the almost round spot in the creek where they used to swim as kids. Shepushes her jeans down over her hips and pulls off her socks, folding themneatly and placing them on a rock in the sun. Behind her the saddle creaks, andshe knows she’s got him. With her back still to him she pulls off her shirt,folding it carefully before turning to look at him with her hands on her hips.Derek’s closer than she expected, his horse already tied beside Heidi and thebutton on his jeans undone.
“We’re not kidsanymore,” he mumbles as he nears her, pulling his tank top over his head andtossing it on the rock beside her clothes.
“No you are not,”Lydia breathes, watching unabashedly as he kicks off his boots and socks andstrips out of his jeans. She’s never seen a more perfect man than the onestanding in front of her right now, glaring at her almost comically with hisbaseball hat still on and indecently tight black boxer briefs. She meets hisgaze and Derek immediately looks away, angling his body towards the water.
“You’re a healthhazard,” he growls, looking for a moment like he’s just going to jump in. But hegrabs her before she can even scream, tossing her over one shoulder as he leapsfor the water. Its icy cold as it crashes over Lydia, her hair instantlyplastering to her head and her skin turning slick against Derek’s. When shefinally comes up for air she’s clinging to him, their bodies pressed chest tochest. There’s drops of water glistening on Derek’s eyelashes, his hat isfloating behind them, and his eyes are so wide and have too many colors tocount. Suddenly she knows, it’s now or never.
She slides her fingersinto his wet hair and kisses him without another thought, wrapping her legsaround his waist beneath the water. Derek freezes for a moment beneath her, butthen his hands slide hot up her back, pulling her closer as he angles his headand kisses her back. Lydia keeps it slow, sucking his bottom lip between herown before pulling back and resting her forehead against his.
“Been wanting to dothat since I was like twelve,” she whispers, laughing when Derek groans andkisses her again, his fingers tangling in her hair. Derek kisses like honey,slow and sweet and natural, warming her slowly from the inside out. His lipstaste like cinnamon gum and he moans when she licks the salt from his neck.
“We should go on adate,” he pants as she grinds against his cock through their underwear. Itfeels thick and big and hot, and she wants him to fuck her terribly.
“This doesn’t count asa date?” She slides her fingers through the hair on his chest and then back upto his shoulders, holding on tight as she nips at his ear.
“No,” Derek grunts,his hands curling around her waist and peeling her off him. “No, I’m notfucking this up this time. I’m taking you on a date because I want you to bemine, okay?”
“What do you mean this time?” Lydia is caught betweenwanting to pout and curiosity.
“I tried to ask you tohomecoming junior year,” he admits quietly, his grip loosening as he pulls herback against him. “You thought I was kidding.”
“Ohmy god,” Lydia laughs, kissing him again just because she can. “I’ll go on adate with you,” she concedes. “As long as you get to be mine too.”
Derek tries to takeher out to dinner when they get back, but Lydia manages to get him agree tojust milkshakes before insisting they go back to the farm. He pulls a blanketout from behind the seat of his truck and leads her up into the hayloft. It’seven better than Lydia used to fantasize about, watching him carefully arrangethe blanket before turning to her with dark want in his eyes. He peels her outof her clothes almost reverently, lips brushing against each inch of skinrevealed.
Lydia’s squirming withneed by the time they’re both down to their underwear, his thick fingers trailingsoftly against the lace of her panties.
“You’re so beautiful,”he whispers, kissing down the column of her throat and across her collarbones.He slides the straps of her bra down her shoulders, a low groan rumbling in hischest when the lace folds over and reveals her already hardened nipples. Lydiasighs softly and arches into his hands, the calloused pads of his fingersdragging just right across her sensitive skin. He continues down her body,stubble scraping against her soft tummy and hot tongue dipping into her bellybutton. Lydia’s throbbing with want and he hasn’t even taken her panties off,though she knows they have to be starting to soak through. Derek slides themdown her thighs tantalizingly slow, inching back on his knees until they slipover her feet. “Is this one of the things you can do in heels?” He teases, bitingat the arch of her foot. It sends an unexpected zing of pleasure straight toher core, and Lydia moans, throwing her head back.
“Yeah,” she bites out,tensing with anticipation as he places soft kisses up the inside of her thighs.“I’ll show you next time.” Derek hums and presses his smile to the inside ofher thigh. He pauses suddenly, and when Lydia lifts her head she finds his darkeyes staring up her body.
“Is it okay if I… youknow?”
“God yes,” Lydiasighs, reaching down to curl her hand around the back of his neck. “Please.”
Derek’s eyelashesflutter as he sinks back down, tongue lapping at her clit and stubble scrapingagainst her thighs. Her hips buck up against him instinctively, and Derekgroans, the sound sending little vibrations of pleasure up to the base of herspine. He’s good at this, nose rubbing against her clit when he sinks lower andfucks his tongue inside of her, presses a thick finger in alongside it. Histongue returns to her clit, hot and insistent, while he fucks her with twofingers, curling them inside her with each stroke until she starts to tremble.It’s almost too much, and she’s caught between wanting to press closer andsquirm away. Seeming to sense her indecision, Derek’s left hand presses hard onher hip, pinning her in place as he fucks her. Her vision starts to go blurryso she lets her eyes slip closed, twisting her head and baring her neck, givingherself over to the sensation. His name slips between lips like an oath ormaybe a prayer, every muscle in her body tightening with the need for release.Derek keeps up a steady pace, pushing her higher and higher until she’s writhingon the blanket beneath him.
“Please,” she whines. “Derek please.” He sucks hard on her clit then and Lydia bowsoff the blanket with a cry, her entire body shaking as pleasure surges throughher veins. Derek keeps going until she pushes his head away with a moan.
When Derek kisses hershe can taste herself on his lips, and it tastes like he’s hers, like hebelongs to her and her only.
“Oh. My. God.” Shestretches beneath him as he kisses down her neck, sinking his teeth into thecurve of her shoulder. “Derek.”
“So was that okay?” Heasks quietly, tucking his face into the side of her neck.
“Fuck yeah,” she sighsand lifts her hips, his dick dragging heavily across her stomach. “I want you.Now.” Without preamble she spits intoher hand and curls it around his cock, stroking it and grinning when he fucksinto her hand. “I wanna ride you.”
Derek rolls onto hisback unbelievable fast, arms bunching as he drags her on top of him. “You’re amenace.”
“You love it.” Lydiagrins and reaches behind her for his dick, holding it steady as she slowlysinks down. Derek moans low in his chest, the muscles in his stomach jumping ashe struggles to keep from thrusting up into her. “God you feel good.” Shesteadies herself with two hands on his chest, momentarily distracted by howsmall she seems compared to him. She likes it, likes feeling tiny but stillpowerful. Slowly she rocks her hips, head falling back as she fucks herself.
“Lydia.” Derek’s big hands curl warm and strong around her hips,fingers almost touching at the small of her back. He starts to lift her,thrusting up to meet her as he pulls her down. Lydia leans forward and kisseshim sloppily, more just sharing breath than anything else. Reaching back, shepulls his hands from her hips and pins them above his head. Derek moans whenshe starts to fuck herself, mouth falling open in need as the slap of skin onskin fills the hay loft.
“You gonna come for meDee-Dee,” Lydia hums, kissing him hard until he nods. “Be a good boy and comefor me.” His cock twitches inside of her as he groans, head tipping back as hiships buck up into her and he tips over the edge, pulsing hot inside of her ashis body arches off the blanket.
“So,” she whispers asDerek goes soft and pliant beneath her. “Was that okay?” Derek huffs and pullshis wrists out of her grip, pulling her tight against his chest and burying hisface in her neck.
“Yeah,”he mumbles, lips dragging against her skin. “So good.”
Lydia wakes to thesound of birds singing and early morning sun light dappling across her skin.The blanket beside her is empty, but the distant sounds of hooves and whinnyingpushes away her disappointment. There’s a smile lifting her cheeks as she dresses,pulling on her boots and running her fingers through her hair. She feels like anew person, rejuvenated and genuinely happy to be home in the life she hadn’trealized she’d missed.
The stairs to thehayloft clatter beneath her feet as she hurries down them, Derek’s blankettucked under her arm. She follows the rustling sounds towards the tack room,peering over the half door to find Derek bent over a collection of feed tubs,stirring the different grains together with his hands. He’s wearing differentclothes, having ditched the dark jeans and button down shirt he’d donned fortheir “date” for the more familiar faded Carhartts and a sleeveless shirt.
“Hey.” Her voicesounds rough even to her own ears, but Derek turns to look at her with thesoftest smile she’s ever seen on his face.
“Mornin’,” he smiles,wiping his hands on his pants as he straightens and steps towards her. His kisscatches her by surprise, gentle but almost desperate, quickly growing heatedeven with the stall door between them.
“Well,” Lydia hums,blinking up at Derek when he pulls back, his fingers still combing through herhair. “A girl could get used to this.” Derek just smiles and kisses her again,his tongue slipping between her lips, hot and slick.
“I don’t think I’llever get used to this,” he mumbles, thumbs rubbing soft circles at the base ofher neck. His simple honest brings a rare flush to Lydia’s cheek, and she feelsuncharacteristically shy, looking up at him through her lashes.
“I uh,” she reachesfor him, anchoring herself with fingers curled around his arms. “I need to gethome, but I’ll call you later? Okay?”
“Okay.” Derek’s eyes crinklein the corners when he smiles, and Lydia’s breath catches unexpectedly, hearttripping as he kisses her again, this time soft and chaste.
“Okay.” She nods andforces herself to take a step away, walking backwards a few steps beforeturning and striding out of the barn. She looks back before stepping outside tofind Derek still watching her, eyes dark enough to make heat crawl up herspine. Biting her lip she waves and slips out the door, grinning giddily as shejumps on her four wheeler and heads home.
It doesn’t occur toher until she’s skipping up the front steps that she hadn’t come home lastnight, and that she probably can’t get away with that now that she’s living athome. She cautiously turns the door knob, slipping inside and easing the doorshut.
“Well, well, well.”
Dread fills her chestas she looks up to find her grandmother sitting at the kitchen table, cup ofcoffee in one hand and glasses slipping low over her nose.
“Mornin’ Gram,” sheoffers cheerfully, pasting a fake smile onto her face.
“Where have you been?”Gram doesn’t look angry, in fact, shelooks more amused than anything, blue eyes sparkling behind her glasses andlips twitching in the corners.
“I uh, decided to takea ride around the property line.” The excuse sounds weak even to her own ears,but Gram is nodding, her lips thin.
“See anythinginteresting?”
“Nope.” Lydia shakesher head and inches towards the stairs. “Pretty quiet.” Gram nods again, soLydia takes that as a dismissal, turning and taking the stairs two at a time.
“There’s hay in yourhair!” Gram yells, her voice echoing up the stairs as Lydia reaches herbedroom. Lydia turns to look at her reflection, finding her hair outrageouslymused and hay woven between the strands. She finds herself grinning as she picksout a few stalks.
“You know,” Lydia begins, sitting down across from Derek, “if you wanted to do the ‘bad boy’ thing you should probably be hanging out with the smokers, not sitting in the library.”
“The smell of smoke doesn’t really do it for me.” Derek doesn’t lift his eyes to her. It’s alright. Lydia hadn’t expected much more this early on in her efforts.
When Marin calls Lydia to help around Beacon Hills, witch population: approximately 3.5, she's not impressed. When the whole place goes to hell in a handbasket a few weeks later, she's ready to close out accounts and get out of dodge. Townspeople are dropping like flies, amnesia spreading as fast as the flu might, and that's not even touching the ones who wander out of the preserve with no grasp on reality. She's agreed to help the McCall pack, though, and Lydia makes a habit of never breaking a promise, especially to other witches and shifters.
