stydia baking cookies together?
“*SET IN THE GROUND RULES UNIVERSE*
Stiles is still asleep when Lydia wakes up. She stretches hugely, not bothering to clutch the sheets closer to her chest as she does so. In the middle of the winter, Boston is bitter and cold, but both of them are more than happy to be snowed in together.
Going home to Beacon Hills had actually been miserable, just as it had their junior year of college. Lydia has gotten so used to sleeping in the same bed as Stiles that she’d been forced to sneak to his house more than once just to get any sense of normalcy. And even though they’d still been in the same city, she’d missed him. Now that they’re back, Lydia is already contemplating ways to get Stiles to stay here during Spring Break instead of going back to Beacon Hills. If he wants, they can fly Scott and Kira out for a visit. They can sleep in Stiles’ bed. The two of them don’t need two beds anymore, anyways.
Of course, now that they’re back at home, Lydia is reminded of the ease with which they live together. And she wants to be reminded again, so she nudges Stiles with her foot, trying to get him to wake up. He smacks his lips and stays asleep.
Lydia peels the sheets back from his body and begins poking at him, starting with the bottom of his foot and moving up to his ass. She considers biting it, then thinks better of it. She’ll save that for when he’s awake.
He finally wakes up when she climbs on top of him and begins kissing his neck. She’s not quite sure if it’s because of her lips or because of the way her breasts are pressing up against his back, but she also doesn’t much care. Because he smiles at her, a brilliant morning smile which makes his whiskey brown eyes light up with happiness, and Lydia suddenly cannot stop kissing him despite the morning breath that is sour on his tongue.
“I love you,” she says. “And good morning.”“Good morning,” he replies, snuggling deeper into his pillow. “Someone’s frisky.”
“Just happy to be home,” Lydia admits. “Really happy.”“Me too,” admits Stiles, and she kisses him again. When she pulls back, he looks like he’s about to lose it, so Lydia decides to step in and save him.
“Do you want to go make breakfast?” she asks gently.
“Sure,” Stiles says, arching his back so that Lydia rolls right off. She laughs as she falls onto the bed next to him. “What do you want?”Lydia considers this carefully.
“Ice cream,” she decides. “Sandwiched between two cookies.” Stiles frowns.
“Okay, you’re frisky and having weird breakfast cravings. Did I knock you up?”Lydia shakes her head, reaching onto the floor for one of Stiles’ t-shirts.
“Not until I get my PhD,” she says. “So... at least four years. If I’m ridiculously smart.”
He stares at her, a smile beginning to drift across his face.
“You were thinking about when we would have kids?”
And even though Lydia is trying to pretend that it’s not a big deal, it is.
“I was bored. There was a long car ride.”
“Okay, just... less talking and more cookies.”
“I’d get out of bed, but you’re wearing my shirt.”
“Baking is clothes-optional.”
“Fine,” he sighs, getting up. He locates his boxer-briefs on the floor and tugs them on, then stumbles into the kitchen for coffee and pre-made cookie dough, which they have left over from exam week. Lydia settles herself onto the counter and watches as he begins methodically shaping the cookies into little balls of dough.
She can’t stop staring at his hands. She’s pretty sure he knows because he’s smirking when she does manage to look up at him.
“Stop it,” she says. “Stop smiling.”“I can’t,” he argues. “I keep thinking about how we’re going to bake cookies with the children we will inevitably have.”
“Oh god. I created a monster.”
“Stiles, we’re only 22. Don’t count the chickens before they hatch.”
“Literally,” he says slyly, feeding her dough when she opens her mouth to protest.
She closes her lips around his finger and thinks that she could totally, wholly, and completely get used to counting their chickens before they hatched.
