❝ Iғ I тold yoυ тнαт I loved yoυ Tell мe, wнαт woυld yoυ ѕαy?
Iғ I тold yoυ тнαт I нαтed yoυ Woυld yoυ ɢo αwαy? ❞ . . . ▸ Usᴇ ʜᴇᴀᴅᴘʜᴏɴᴇs 🎧 __________________________________________ [ ғᴏʟʟᴏᴡ ᴍᴇ ᴏɴ ɪɢ﹕ _ᴘsʏᴄʜᴏ.ᴇᴅɪᴛs_ ]

#dc comics#dc#batman#dick grayson#batfam#tim drake#bruce wayne#batfamily#dc fanart



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❝ Iғ I тold yoυ тнαт I loved yoυ Tell мe, wнαт woυld yoυ ѕαy?
Iғ I тold yoυ тнαт I нαтed yoυ Woυld yoυ ɢo αwαy? ❞ . . . ▸ Usᴇ ʜᴇᴀᴅᴘʜᴏɴᴇs 🎧 __________________________________________ [ ғᴏʟʟᴏᴡ ᴍᴇ ᴏɴ ɪɢ﹕ _ᴘsʏᴄʜᴏ.ᴇᴅɪᴛs_ ]
CHANGES Rated: E Word Count: 8,089 Characters: Stiles Stilinski; Lydia Martin This is a one shot basically comprised of the three S's. Stydia, Sex and Smut ;-) It's all his fault. He's the reason I have to clench my thighs together every time he smiles, with his lips just begging to be kissed. He's the reason my bottom lip has a permanent scar on it from every time I bite down on it, while checking out his ass. He's the reason why I have circles under my eyes, because every time I close them to go to sleep, all I can see are long slender fingers tugging through my hair. It's all his fault. Fucking Stiles Stilinski. It's his fault that I have these stupid fantasies running around in my head. How his fingers would fell ghosting over bare skin. How I would love nothing more than to dig my nails into his naked ass. How would his body feel pressed against mine? What about those lips? And these fantasies are not confined to when I'm in my bedroom. They can happen anytime, anywhere. Like now as we sit at lunch. I'm mesmerised by his fingers as they pick at the label on his drink. I suddenly jump up from my spot at the picnic bench and turn tail towards the school. I hear my friends calling after me, but I keep going, ignoring their pleas. I need a bathroom and I need it now. I lock myself inside a stall, then ceremoniously throw my ass onto the toilet seat. My head goes to my hands as I let this latest rush of excitement wash over me. God, I need to pull myself together. I'm Lydia Martin for crying out loud. These fantasies started happening a month ago, after seeing him shirtless, accidentally, when I stormed into the boys locker room looking for Scott. I had a bone to pick with the timid lacrosse captain. But whatever speech I had prepared to fire at Scott, got caught in my throat when I saw Stiles standing next to him, shirtless and with a towel hung low on his hips. My gasp must've been audible, because the whole locker room turned and looked at me. I ran, as fast as I've ever run, or as fast as I could run in the four inch heels I was wearing. Ok! It was more like a fast walk. My throat was dry and for the life of me I couldn't remember why I was in the locker room in the first place. I got half way to my car when flashes of Stiles' naked chest start to invade my thoughts. Then it's his arms and his shoulders. Then the happy trail that disappeared into his towel. I've not been able to think about anything else since. Once I feel like I've completely got my endorphins in check, I leave the stall and stand in front of the mirror. My face is still a little flushed. I pull my compact out of my bag and lightly brush some powder over my face to get rid of the red splotches on my cheeks. I run a little lip gloss over my lips, finger comb my hair before heading toward the door. I pull it open and regret my decision to leave the bathroom immediately. He's standing there, leaning against a row of lockers. "Hey." He greets as he pushes himself off the lockers, wearing that smile that causes my thighs to clench together. "You ok?" God damn it! "I'm fine, just fine, I'm great in fact. Why do you ask?" I'm rambling and I know it. See, this is what he does to me. I fidget with my hands and I try to avoid eye contact. I'm completely fearful that he will see whatever it is that's bothering me, all over my face. So I inconspicuously find a spot behind him and focus on that instead. Out of the corner of my eye I see him run his tongue over his lips, Fuck!, before he mashes them together, obviously trying not to laugh. He clears his throat. "You took off in a hurry back there." He stated, gesturing with his thumb over his shoulder. "Just wanted to make sure you're ok." This is another thing that makes him so damn sexy. Yes! I said it! Stiles is sexy. Sue me. He is just so damn thoughtful. "Really Stiles I'm fine. I gotta get to class. See ya." I take off as quickly as I can without being obvious about it. I've known Stiles, Scott, Allison and Kira since I was eight years old. We all became close our last year before Highschool started. Never in the nine years that I've known Stiles have I ever thought of him as sexy. He was just Stiles. My closest male friend. My goofball. Now every time I see him it's in a very different light. I know I must sound shallow, but fuck! I just want him to take me to bed and let me resolve all this sexual tension. Maybe then I can get on with my life. I've just reached the door to my English room, when I feel him behind me. I whirl round and set him with a scowl. "Stiles? Why are you following me?" I ask as I cross my arms over my chest. He puts his hands up in surrender. "I'm not. Well I guess I am....but this is my English class too remember....geez what has gotten into you lately?" He moves past me and into the room shaking his head as he goes, leaving me there completely stunned as to how I could've forgotten that we share a class. And not just this class, but every damn class I take. I turn and watch as he takes the seat next to the one I sit in. He always sits next to me. I've moved one step, when I see him stretch his arms above his head, revealing that thin line of dark hair that I so badly want to run my fingers along. Just like I did in the locker room a month ago, I turn on my heel and head away from the boy that has invaded my every waking thought. I don't look back. By the time I reach the nurses office, I don't have to pretend I'm sick. I'm wound so tight that my skin is glowing and I feel feverish. She takes one look at me and quickly writes me a sick note and demands that I go home. She certainly won't get any argument from me. An hour later and I've had a shower, had a quick bite to eat and changed into the most comfortable clothes I own. I'm now laying on my bed, laptop sitting on my knees, watching a movie. All thoughts of Stiles, and his exceptionally hot body, have dissipated for the moment, and for the first time in a month I feel relaxed. That is until I hear my phone buzz with his designated ringtone, from somewhere on my floor. I sit there for the longest time debating whether or not to answer it. By the time I make my decision the phone stops. A soft wisp of air leaves my mouth. I'm not sure if it's relief or disappointment. I shrug and go back to my movie. My phone stays quiet. I'm not sure how much time has passed when I hear someone knocking on my door. I jump at first, before relaxing and climbing off the bed. It's probably my Mom, but I'm certain she said she wouldn't be home until later tonight. Curiosity gets the better of me. So I make my way to the door and open it. I squeal a little when I see Stiles standing there with a look of indifference. It's not unusual for Stiles to be at my house, or in my room for that matter. We study a lot together because of our shared classes. Sometimes here, sometimes at his place. He comes over quite often and we will watch a movie together. However he has never quite looked at me they way he is right now and I'm suddenly very aware of how see through my tank is and how tiny my shorts are. "Stiles! What the hell are you doing here?" I almost scream, as I cross my arms over my chest, trying to maintain some dignity. He doesn't answer me, he just pushes past me into my room. I turn and look at him completely aghast. He throws his keys onto my desk, kicks off his shoes and then takes a seat on my chair. Ok, so he isn't going anywhere, and he looks completely pissed about something. I close the door a little harder than what was probably necessary. I take a deep breath and turn and lean on my door. He's staring at me and at first I think it's because of what I'm wearing. Then he speaks. "You ready to tell me what the hell is going on with you lately?" He asks sternly. Yeah right? Like that conversation is going to end well. Sorry Stiles you're right, I have been completely one hundred percent distracted - by your ass, your mouth, your fingers. I scoff a little as I push off the door and go to my closet to grab a sweater. When I turn back around he is still staring at me. I roll my eyes as I head to my bed. I sit with my legs tucked underneath me and pull my sweater over my knees. "C'mon Lydia, you can't deny you've been acting weird." He states. Yes I can. To him anyway. "You've been distant, distracted and what about class today? One minute you were there, then, poof, you were gone." He asks, flailing his arms around as if he was doing magic. "Stiles I'm fine. I just wasn't feeling well this afternoon." I reply. I look up only to be greeted with a pointed look. He doesn't believe me. I don't blame him, I wouldn't believe me either. "Look, thank you for coming and checking up on me, but I'm ok, so you can go now." He still doesn't move. My eyes have drifted to his forearms that are leaning over the back of my chair. The muscles taut from the exertion it takes to sit with your arms like that. The soft hair that trails up to his forearms. Then I find his fingers, drumming softly against the back of the chair. Fingers that I have fantasised over for the last month. Fingers that are attached to beautiful hands, that I want all over my body. "Lydia!" I startle at the loudness of his tone. "What?" I throw back, completely mortified as to where my mind had just wandered. "Are you sure you're ok. Do I need to take you to see Melissa, because I've just asked you the same question three times and you didn't answer." I can feel the blush of embarrassment creeping over my body. Starting from the tips of my toes all the way to my ears. I lower my gaze and shake my head hopefully discreetly, but when I look up to meet his gorgeous honey eyes, I know I've been caught out. I'm struggling to swallow the small lump that has formed in my throat. His eyes are full of questioning and concern, then suddenly he is up out of the chair and moving towards me. Panic sets in as for some reason he is coming at me in slow motion. I lower my gaze again, but side eye him as he joins me on my bed. That lump is still stuck in my throat, as I physically try to not react to the fact that his knee is sitting flush against mine. Or that fact that his right hand and those god damn fingers are resting precariously close to my thigh. I gulp softly finally getting rid of that lump and slowly lift my head up. Bad idea, bad idea. His face is so close to mine as he scrutinises me. His eyes flit all over my face. His brow is furrowed, as he searches my face for any indication as to what is wrong with me. When his eyes lock with mine, my heart starts to race and I'm suddenly very aware of how close his lips are. We stay like that, with eyes locked and mouths twitching. All it would take is for one of us to lean in slightly and I would finally find out just how soft and plump those lips are. Then suddenly he is backing away, and it takes a moment for me to realise how disappointed I am that he did. I can't be the only one that feels the pull between us. I quickly lower my head and I'm suddenly overcome with embarrassment. What the hell was I just about to do? He's my best friend for crying out loud. My best friend that I want to shove down hard on my bed and let him have his way with me. Fuck! The silence that sits between us is deafening. A few minutes have passed before I look up again. I notice he has a small blush running over his cheeks and his Adam's apple is bobbing slightly as he clears his throat. His eyes are now anywhere but my face. His hands fidget in his lap and of course my traitorous mind starts wondering how it would feel having them dip into my hips. I shake my head to clear it of the dirty thoughts, before turning my attention back to the beautiful boy sitting near inches away from me. Not just beautiful, he is truly gorgeous. With his mussed hair, golden eyes and trail of moles that I want to run my fingers over. And it's not just the physical stuff either. He is truly just a beautiful soul. Thoughtful, compassionate, loving. I'm a little shocked to find that it took me seeing him shirtless to realise all of this. I'm even more dumbstruck that maybe these feelings I have, aren't as new as I first thought. Because he has always been all those things and more. I take a moment to study him carefully. He is still not meeting my gaze, his eyes instead on his hands in his lap. My eyes spend an inordinate amount of time watching the single vein that runs the length of his neck. Maybe I should just tell him, leave it out there for him do with as he pleases. So I close my eyes, take a deep breath and gather every ounce of courage I have. Finally, I open my eyes only to be met with his golden ones. Damn it what was it I was going to say? What I see there shocks me. Hope? Longing? Recognition? Has he figured it out? In the few moments he searched my face, did he see the adoration and want in my eyes? For the mere seconds our lips and noses were so close, was he thinking what I was thinking? I know my mouth is opening and closing like a fish, but I somehow can't find the words I was so sure about only moments ago. Then his voice cuts through the tension like a knife. "Aah....maybe I should go." He says as he starts to get off the bed. It's now or never. If I don't say something now, I may never get the chance again. "Wait!" I implore, as I take his hand. He startles a little as I pull him back towards me. He looks to where our hands are joined, before looking up into my eyes. A quizzical look on his face. I let go of his hand, settle mine in my lap and steel my nerves. "You're right. I have been off. Distracted." I start nervously, shifting my gaze slightly. He nods his head at me, whether he's agreeing with me or gesturing for me to continue, I'm not sure, but I do anyway. "There's this guy." He audibly lets out a sigh, because of course it's about a guy, it always is with me. "Lydia, you don't have to tell me...." He begins, but I interrupt him. I shake my head. "No, I want to....I need to tell you." His eyebrows raise a little higher on his forehead in curiosity, because in all the time we've known each other, I've never once talked to him about guys before. I notice him fidgeting again, before he gestures with his hand for me to continue. Again I take in a deep breath. Knowing full well that once I start I'm not going to be able to stop. And funnily enough I find I want him to know. I want him to hear how, he has been the one distracting me from everything. "So as I was saying, there's this guy. Really great guy. He's smart, funny and every time I'm around him lately, I get nervous, can you believe that, me, nervous." I say chuckling. His lip curls up on one side in a knowing smirk, because Lydia Martin does not get nervous. Ever. "Anyway, he totally distracts me from my school work, everyday at lunch and...." I'm not quite sure how to bring up the fantasies that have been consuming me at night time. "And?" He questions. My face flushes and I know he can see the pink tinge my cheeks have taken on. I lower my gaze to my lap, because I won't be able to say it if he is boring into me with those eyes. He however has other ideas as he lowers his head a little to try and get me to look at him. Somewhere in the middle of all this, the space between us has dwindled and my body is now searing with heat. He nudges me with his knee. "Lydia?" His tone a little softer. I still can't look at him, but the words spill out of my mouth. "I've been having these dreams." My hand quickly goes to my mouth, my whole body is flush with embarrassment. I hear the sharp inhale of breath he takes, and its that noise that gives me the courage to finally look up. Shit! His eyes have darkened and my arousal is building rapidly. It's right there, in that moment, with our knees slightly touching and our faces so close together, that I know he knows that I'm talking about him. His tongue peeks out and runs over his bottom lip, as his eyes flit down to mine. "What kinda dreams?" He asks his voice low and husky. His right hand has found its way to my knee. Electricity is burning through me as he makes small circles with his thumb. I take my bottom lip between my teeth, as our eyes are locked in a furious staring battle. His thumb ghosts further up my thigh and my clit pulses with need. Our breathing has become heavy and heart rates have sped up, as the implication of our words linger between us. When his other thumb comes up to rescue my lip from my teeth, I lose all sense of direction. "I dream of his fingers digging into the soft flesh above my hip." I answer breathlessly. As if I'm giving him directions, his hand comes up to my hip and finds its way under my sweater and tank. When his fingers do exactly what I've been dreaming about, a soft mewl leaves my lips. "What else?" He questions, as his fingers dig deliciously into my skin and our foreheads lean against each other. My eyes flutter closed and somehow my hand has tangled itself in the front of his shirt. "I....I...." But the words get stuck in my throat as his fingers have moved up slightly and are now circling my navel. My head lolls back at the feel of his fingers running over bare skin, and I am now certain that any fantasy I conjured up in my head about his hands on my body, don't even compare to the real thing. Suddenly I'm filled with desperation. I want to know how his skin would feel under my hands, so I untangle my fist and move it under his tee. He hisses at the contact and a smile forms on my lips knowing that he's enjoying this as much as me. "This....I dream about this." I say as his lips press a soft kiss in the crook of my neck. "More, tell me more." He begs his voice now laced with desire. His lips move up the column of my neck, his thumb still lingering over my bottom lip and his fingers now ghost along the underside of my breasts. Fuck! I'm in heaven. "C'mon Lyds." He whispers against my ear and that's all it takes for me to shift gears. Actions speak louder than words anyway right? I fall back against the pillows and take him down with me. He settles between my thighs, our bodies aligned in blissful symmetry. His body propped up on his elbows so he doesn't crush me. One hand comes up to brush away a stray lock of hair from my face and I tremble from the affectionate gesture. We're back to the staring contest from before, our eyes locked together. He shifts slightly over me, and the sensation of both the coarse material of his jeans moving over my already wet centre, and how hard he is for me, has my back arching off the bed. He lowers himself against me and our chests now heave together with want. Another hiss leaves his lips as my nipples pebble through my thin sweatshirt. His face is merely inches from my own, our noses brushing softly, his breath searing over my lips as he whispers his next words. "Tell me what you want Lyds." He says as his lips come impossibly closer to mine without actually touching them. I push up off the bed and fist my hands in his shirt again and close the millimetres of space between our lips. Finally, after a whole month of dreaming about this moment, I can't believe I'm the one with the courage to do it. It's soft and experimental. Just a mere brush of our lips. Then suddenly it's hot and heated as he pushes me back against the pillows. When he moves over my centre again, this time purposely, his tongue pushes against the seam of my mouth. When our tongues collide, so do our chests and the temperature in the room has risen. His left hand has gone back under my sweater and is gripping my hip with purpose. My own hands have locked behind his head as I pull him impossibly closer. Of its own accord, my foot wraps around his ass, my heel digging into his jeans. He moans into my mouth as I use my foot to join our centres together again, to create the friction I so desperately need. When we finally seperate our lips, our foreheads meeting together, he places a soft kiss to my nose. He places a fingertip to my chin and pushes it up slightly so we are at eye level. "Is this really happening?" He asks a little breathless, as his finger brushes over my cheek. I nod, searching for my own breath. "You're all I've been able to think about for the longest time." I reply honestly. He smiles that lopsided grin at me before his lips are crashing against mine again and hands continue to roam. Mine go under his shirt, so I can feel the firmness of his stomach. My fingers catching in that dark hair that leads to a place that I so desperately want to explore. His stay above my sweatshirt but one does find its way to my breast. I keen as his large hand engulfs me, my back once again arching off the bed. When he pulls me up so that I'm basically straddling him, he eases my sweatshirt and my tank over my head. I blush when his eyes go wide with desire. Almost to the point where I'm just about to cover myself with my hands, but he quickly grabs them and pulls them away. "Please." He begs eyes still wide. I nod my head. One hand splays against my back and the other comes between us to once again take me in his hand. My eyes close again as he massages it softly, before taking the nipple between two fingers, causing it to harden under his ministrations. The noise that leaves my mouth is full of lust and need. My hands are playing with his hair at the nape of his neck and I can't help but grind over him gently, feeling his hardness through my thin shorts. When his mouth latches onto me, I cry out in ecstasy, not caring if anyone hears me. Except suddenly I'm wondering how the hell Stiles got in my house. "Stiles?" I mewl. "Mmm." He growls against me as his tongue lathes around my nipple, the vibration sending a jolt straight to my core. "How....how....Oh god." I moan as he bites down a little. I take his head between my hands and move him away from my breast. I look him in the eye. "How did you get in?" He shakes his head at me and a smirk forms on his face. "Spare key under the pot plant." He explains as his mouth goes back to exploring my breast. Right the spare key. Satisfied with his answer, I once again enjoy the feel of his mouth on me. He switches between both breasts and with every flick of his tongue or scrape of his teeth, I can feel my orgasm building. Once again I remove him from my chest and pull his shirt off over his head. It joins mine on the floor, and now we're both left with just our bottoms on and naked heaving chests. I rake my hands over his shoulders, before running them flat down his chest. "God, I can't believe I'm making out with Lydia Martin." Stiles bursts out as his hands settle on my hips. He's not the only one. "Shut up and kiss me." I demand as I pull his lips to mine. And kiss me he does. My hands are clinging to his shoulders and his are digging into that spot that I love so much. Our naked chests collide and we both swallow each other's moans. My hands move down his chest, across his stomach and settle on the belt loops of his jeans. His hands make their way under the waistband of my shorts, squeezing my ass through my panties. His mouth leaves mine and he leaves a trail of kisses down my neck. When my hand goes to undo the button on his jeans, he quickly puts his hand over mine forcing me to open my eyes. "Maybe we should slow down." He suggests. I quirk my eyebrows in question and he sends me a shy smile. "It's just....I've kinda wanted this for a very long time, like you have no idea how long." He starts, a blush covering his cheeks. I smile at him not wanting to ruin the moment with words. "And I never in my wildest dreams thought that this would actually happen." He leans his forehead against mine, after placing a soft kiss to my lips. "But swore to myself that if it ever did, then I wanted it to be something to remember and something you would never regret." He looks at me pleadingly. I cup his cheek with my hand, he leans into it. I trace my thumb over his bottom lip before bringing his lips to mine. When I pull way and crawl off his lap he looks disappointed. But I lay myself back down on the bed, I send what I hope is a promising smile, before I reach down and remove my shorts leaving me in just my black lace panties. I'm suddenly aware of the darkness that has taken over my room. The only light coming from the streetlight outside. I look up with my bottom lip caught between my teeth as I watch Stiles take in what lays practically bare before him. His eyes are wide again and his mouth agape in astonishment. His eyes start to move rapidly as he takes in every dip and curve of my body. I blush under his scrutinisation. Then he is on his haunches and his hands are wrapped around my ankles. There's a silence that is starting to make me a little uncomfortable as his eyes continue to wander. "I want you too Stiles, have for longer than I thought." I tell him as his hands sweep up to my thighs. I writhe a little against the sheets as his thumb comes precariously close to my centre. But he doesn't venture there, instead he moves them up to my hips before removing them completely so he can hover over my naked body. His eyes meet mine and I inhale sharply at the hunger I see there. Never have I seen such a look of desire in any mans eye like the one I see in Stiles'. Before I can think anymore of it he has our lips joined together in a bruising kiss. My hands come up to wrap around his strong forearms as his tongue explores my mouth. I've never been so wet for someone as I am right now. My nails dig into his arms and he growls into the kiss at the sensation. Then his mouth leaves mine as he kisses the shell of my ear, before swiping his tongue down my neck. When his lips find that little nook between neck and shoulder, my head lolls to the side to allow him better access. He continues to trail kisses across my shoulders, along my collarbone and down the valley of my breasts. I'm having a difficult time of it trying to keep my orgasm at bay. He moves off to the side of me as his fingers continue to move down my body. He has one leg - which by the way is still covered by his jeans - thrown over my hip and his head is propped up on his hand as he slowly feathers over my breasts. "Fuck Lydia, you're so beautiful." He mewls against my ear before taking the lobe between his teeth. His fingers map their way further down my stomach and when he reaches the edge of my panties he swipes from left to right, from one hip to the other, teasingly slow. My centre is on fire and begging to be touched. His mouth has latched onto my breast again as his fingers ghost along the inside of my thigh. And when one solitary finger swipes over my folds, through the thin piece of scrap covering me, my body spasms and my cry is strangled. "Jesus Lydia, so wet." He mumbles around my now very sensitive breast. Then without any warning his fingers push away the lace and he slips two fingers inside me, curling and prodding against my walls. His other hand is playing with my hair. My hands are fisting the sheets beside me, my ass is writhing as Stiles moves his fingers in and out. I'm a fucking mess. His pace quickens as does my building climax. And when his thumb finds my clit, I explode as he rubs small circles over and over, while still fucking me with his fingers. "Oh My God." It's all I can mange to breathe out as he continues to move inside. He just coaxed probably the best damn orgasm I've ever had out of me, and he still has his pants on. I open my tightly closed eyes and find him looking at me in absolute awe. "What?" I ask, my voice still laced with lust. "That was the most beautiful thing I've ever seen." He says as he ghosts his fingers back up my sensitive body. He takes the hand that I have thrown over my forehead and links our fingers together. I turn to face him, moving our hands between our bodies. I unlink our fingers and run mine down the planes of his chest. His hand settles on my hip. "It hardly seems fair." I say as I place a kiss where my fingers have just been. I gather up all my strength and push him down on his back. I straddle him and can instantly feel how hard he is. I kiss all the way down his stomach until I hit that glorious trail of hair. I look back up at him through my eyelashes and the expression on his face starts the fire burning inside me again. I kiss along his hip bones where his jeans hang low. I hear him gulp as I flick the button undone. I never take my eyes of his gorgeous face. "I've been practically naked for an awful long time now." I pout. I start to pull down the zipper. I linger just long enough for my pinky to feather his dick over his black boxer briefs. Once I have the zipper all the way down, I tug on the waistband, signalling that I want them off. He obliges by lifting his ass up to push them all the way down. I finish the task off by yanking them down his legs. Then I take his socks off, before I crawl back up his body. I delibrately run my chest over his erection through his shorts, then I kiss my way back up his body. I join our lips together in a searing, blinding kiss. His hands run up and down my back, settling again on my ass. My nipples tighten at the feel of our chests pushing together. Our mewls break the silence that permeates the room. His dick twitches as I grind our centres together. He's solid and pulsing underneath me and I suddenly want to feel him under my hands. I make one more slow deliberate move over him, before I lift my hips a little and move my hand down between our bodies. I tease him over the top of his shorts. He bites on my bottom lip before breaking the kiss. "Lyds....Fuck!" He hisses through his teeth as I cup him fully. I smirk as I continue trailing kisses down his neck, shoulders and chest as my hand moves slowly over his dick. Enjoying the feel of him hard underneath my hand. He tentatively moves one hand up and cups my breast, causing my back to stretch. When his fingers tweak my nipple, I can't help the throaty growl that leaves my mouth. When my hand finally finds its way past the waistband of his boxers and I wrap my hand around him we both let out a heavy sigh. He has joined our lips together as my hand starts to move up and down him. Our tongues colliding and teeth clashing as both our arousals build. He is thicker and longer than I expected and my clit throbs with pleasure at the thought of him filling me up. I run my thumb over his tip and I smile into the kiss with satisfaction at the droplet of pre-cum there. I did that. His hand has stopped massaging my breast, instead he has snuck it down between us. Without any warning his fingers are in my panties again and collecting the moisture there. I didn't realise how wet I was until I feel his finger come up to my clit. This time I'm the one to break the kiss, instead resting my head against his chest as his fingers move over me. Our skin is slick with sweat as we've worked each other up into a frenzy. When his finger slides inside me, my hand tightens around him. "Shit Stiles, so good." I mumble against his chest feeling my orgasm building again. Next thing I know he has flipped us on the bed. He hovers over me, a smile on his lips, that causes my whole body to flush. This time when he kisses his way down my body, he takes my panties with him, flicking them into the rest of our clothes, that sit in a pile near my desk. He leaves a kiss on each thigh as he takes the scrap of lace off. I squirm knowing I'm now completely naked beneath him. His head lingers on my thigh, his eyes dark and brooding as he takes in my wet core. "Jesus!" He growls as his fingernails dig a little into my thigh. His thumb circles so close to me, that I jerk a little with anticipation. When it finally makes its way to my clit, my eyes shut tight and my ass lifts off the bed. And when I feel the first flick of his tongue over me, he has to use his arm to hold my hips down. It's soft and languid. Teasing and needy. My fists crush the comforter underneath me has his tongue makes long, slow licks through my arousal. I open my eyes and I'm met with golden ones as he watches me writhe underneath him. "You taste amazing." He says against me. The vibration coarsing through me. His fingers are added to the mix and between his tongue, his fingers and the way he's looking at me, I'm certain I'm not going to last long. Sure enough when his nose hits the hood of my clit, I explode. My body shutters, even his grip on my hip can't stop my ass from flying off the bed. Stars form behind my eyelids. My breathing is erratic and heavy. He continues to lathe his tongue all over me as I ride out my orgasm against his face. When he comes back up and joins our lips together, I can't help the desire running through me at the taste of myself on his lips. He lines our bodies up and I can feel him still rock hard underneath me. I move one foot up to his hip and push at the fabric of his shorts. He gets the idea and moves off the bed to remove them. I stare in absolute awe at his dick sitting erect against his stomach. I pull my bottom lip between my teeth as he lowers himself over me again. "Are you sure?" He asks as he tugs my lip out tenderly from my teeth. I run my hands down the planes of his stomach, his are playing with my hair. I reach into the drawer of my bedside table and fumble around until my fingers find the foil square. His eyes watch my every movement. They go wide when they see what I pull out. I rip the package open and move my hand back between us. I roll the condom all the way down, pinching the tip once I've finished. I wrap my hand around him and guide him to my entrance. "I've never been so sure about anything in my life." He kisses me hard as he enters me and I growl as he fills and stretches me. Fuck he feels amazing. Better than anything I could've imagined. He starts to move, slow at first, then a little faster to create the friction we both so desperately need. He breaks the kiss simply so we can both inhale the oxygen that has left our lungs. His mouth moves to that spot behind my ear and our hips move in a rhythm that's too natural for our first time together. His mouth latches onto my breast again and my hands pull at his hair, trying to get him impossibly closer. Our breathing his laboured and hands wander. He grabs my hips and pushes himself up onto his haunches. He hikes my leg over his shoulder causing him to go deeper. My eyes literally roll into the back of my head and his head falls back at the feel of my walls around him. When he hits a certain spot, that's all it takes for my third orgasm to hit. I clench and writhe as he continues to move inside me, obviously trying to reach his own climax. I don't have to wait long before I feel him pulsing inside me and then with one, then two more thrusts he collapses on top of me as he curses into my shoulder blade. We lay there boneless and weary for what seems like hours, trying to get our breathing to even out. Finally his mouth finds its way to mine. He kisses me slowly before separating our sweaty bodies and disposing of the condom. I watch him as he moves off the bed. My finger making lazy circles over my hip bone. I smile shyly as everything he did flashes behind my eyes. On his way back he grabs his boxers and jeans as well as my panties and tank. We get dressed in silence and then we finally hop under the covers. He lays flat on his back, while I curl into his side. From my position I can see my bedside clock. I sit up when I see the time. We've wiled away two hours. Fuck! "What?" He asks as I move off the bed. I quickly find my shorts, pull them on and throw his t-shirt at him. It hits him in the face. "My mom. She will be home any minute. You need to get dressed." He starts to object and then sees the look on my face and decides against it. He diligently puts his shirt on, before finding his socks and shoes. Just in the nick of time too as I hear my Moms car pull into the driveway. I flatten out the bedspread and prop the pillows up just so. I shove Stiles into the desk chair and he lands with an 'oomph'. I grab my messenger bag and pull out some school books. She won't suspect anything. We're always studying. By the time my mom knocks on my door and enters my room, Stiles and I are at a safe distance apart, with our English homework spread out on my bed and the desk. Stiles lifts his head, plasters on that smile that would charm the pants off a nun, and says a quick hello. "Hi Stiles. You two studying?" Mom asks, looking between the two of us. "Yeah, English." I answer quickly, probably a little to quickly. Stiles shoots me a smirk and I respond with a scowl. My Moms forehead creases a little at the exchange. "Well, don't let me stop you. Oh and Lydia, don't forget I'm heading to LA in the morning." She announces. I nod with a smile on my face and then she's back out the door and heading to her room down the hall. I flop back on my bed, thankful at least she didn't read too much into mine and Stiles' facial interaction. My arm is over my eyes and my legs crossed at my ankles, when I hear a book being shut quite loudly. I look up curiously to find Stiles grinning at me from the desk chair. I push myself up to rest on my elbows and send him a quizzical stare. "What?" "Nothing....Its nothing." He replies as he waves me off with a swipe of his hand. Then he does something I don't expect. He packs up his notes and books. He hikes his backpack onto one shoulder and saunters over to the bed. Then he leans down, pecks me on the lips then moves towards my door. "Um, where are you going?" I ask my arms now crossed over my chest, my eyes narrowed. "Home." He replies as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. "But....But." I whine. He shakes his head. "No buts, you're mom is down the hall, we can't very well keep on doing what we were doing." I climb off the bed and bolt to stand blocking the door. It's his turn to cross his arms over his chest, but it's not frustration. In fact the ass has a smirk on his lips. It's not like he'd have to make much of an effort to get passed me. And seriously if he really wanted to he could just lift me up and move me out of the way, but he doesn't. Instead he lets me run my hand over his chest. He's certainly not complaining when I lean up on my tip toes and place a barely there kiss to his lips. I pull away just as quick as I got there and lean against the door. I turn the lock, the clicking sound echoing through my room. My bottom lip has again found its way between my teeth and I'm looking at him from under my eyelashes. I see his Adam's apple bob. I put on my best seductive smile and close the minuscule amount of space between us. I'm up on my tip toes again, leaving a kiss on his neck, his chin, then his ear, before bringing my mouth within millimetres of his own. "What if I promise to be quiet." I basically whisper against his mouth before I crash our lips together. His backpack falls to the floor and his hands come up to cup my face. First he just stares deep into my eyes, then everything is a blur. His lips are on mine. Hot, wet and furious. Then his hands move to my ass and he scoops me up. My ankles lock around his waist and I'm holiding onto his shoulders to help keep me up. Then he's pushing me against the door with a thud. Fuck! So much for being quiet. "Sorry." He mumbles against my mouth, not sounding very apologetic at all. In our heated frenzy, we don't hear the footsteps outside on the hardwood floors. It's not until my mothers voice floats from the otherside of the door, that we stall our frantic kisses. "Lydia? Is everything ok." She asks I lean my head against Stiles shoulder, my bottom lip caught in my teeth as I try not to laugh. Stiles is dead still against me, well, almost. I can feel him twitching against me. I compose myself. "Everything is fine Mom. Stiles just stubbed his toe on the chair." He looks up at her trying to hide is own smile. "Ok, I'm heading to bed." She announces. We stay still as we listen to her footsteps fade away. "Damn that was a bit close for comfort." He says as he lowers me back down to the floor. He kisses me again, soft but full of want. "I really should go." He whispers as he pulls away from my lips to breath. But his hands have found purchase on my hips again and the kiss becomes a little more heated. And when his tongue meets mine, I'm pretty sure he is fighting a losing battle. My hands are twisting in his hair, pulling, scratching. Just when I think he's decided to stay, he puts a bit of distance between us and I'm a little stunned. He keeps his hands on my hips and then moves his mouth to my ear. "I'm gonna go." I huff against his chest and I know my lips are set in a pout. When he pulls away again he searches my face before placing a soft kiss to my lips. "We can talk about all this tomorrow. Meet me before school?" He suggests as he brings me in for a hug. "Ok." I answer completely defeated. He moves past me, unlocks the door, walks through it, throws a quiet 'night' over his shoulder and then he is gone. Sleep does not come easy for me. The events from the night playing on a loop. Images flashing behind my eyes and a feeling settling deep in my chest. I toss and turn for a good hour and just when I think I might finally be able to go to sleep, my phone buzzes from my bedside table. I reach over and grab it, reading the brief message on the screen. 10.46pm - Sweet dreams - S xx ~
No caption needed Creds to owner #stydia #stilesandlydia #stilesstilinski #lydiamartin #stydiaiscanon #stydiaisendgame #dylanobrien #hollandroden #teenwolfseason6 #teenwolf #TW #otp #bellarke #the100 #captainswan #ouat #snowbarry #theflash #delena #tvd #lucaya #riarkle #gmw
Today is the day 5x16 aired and I just wanted to point out that it's the best teen wolf episode in my opinion and it's one of the best stydia episodes. I've literally rewatched it more times than I can count. It sounds ridiculous but I rlly love this episode. I have a snow day and I'm probably gonna rewatch it again. lol I remember watching it and than calling my friends crying and they were like lol did stydia happen and I was like no no but something else and they couldn't understand me. Aww thanks Jeff and everyone else for creating that art. I appreciate so much more now that stydia is canon. Ughh I'm so happy
So vine is closed now, I’ll start to post my videos here
#stydia #stydiaisendgame #teenwolf #lydiamartin #stilesstilinski #stilesandlydia #hollandroden #dylanobrien
Ten, Fifteen, Twenty!
Just another little one shot I wrote way back before Christmas.
Relationships: Stiles/Lydia
Word Count: 6163
Rating: M-for some language
Summary: Stiles and Lydia through the years. ___________________________________________
Ten! The first time Stiles Stilinski saw Lydia Martin was a month before he started his last year of elementary school. He and his best friend Scott McCall were throwing a baseball back and forth in their quiet Cul-de-sac, when they saw the moving truck pull up in front of the house right next door to Stiles’. The boys stopped to watch the men hop out of the truck and go to the back. Then they saw a blue SUV pull into the driveway.
Stiles is pretty sure he stopped breathing when the pretty redhead climbed out of the back seat. She looked to be the same age as them. She wore a blue dress, and her hair was plaited in one long braid that sat over her shoulder. From where he stood he couldn’t tell if her eyes were blue or green, but would later find out they were a bright shade of emerald. She smiled when she saw her new home and Stiles thinks it’s the prettiest smile he has ever seen.
He is one hundred percent certain that he fell in love with Lydia Martin that day, even if he didn’t really know what love was. All he knew was that every time he saw her after that, his heart would beat faster, and his ability to use words disappeared. Stiles and Scott continued to watch on as the two big bulky men started carrying furniture into the two storey house, with a its cream coloured bricks and dark blue tin roof.
Like any normal ten year old boys, they soon got bored of watching the goings on of next door. So they both ran inside Stiles’ house to tell Stiles’ Mom that they had new neighbours. After animatedly describing the family of three, Mrs Stilinski made them sandwiches and poured them both a glass of juice. Then Stiles and Scott ran out the back to climb the treehouse there, that his dad built, so they could sticky beak into the neighbours yard.
Before long Scott had to head home for supper. So the boys said their goodbyes and Scott headed back to his house. Stiles stayed up in the treehouse for another hour, hoping to get a look at the pretty girl who had moved in next door. Just as his mom called him inside, the neighbours back door opened. Stiles crouched behind the railing (because he didn’t want to come off as creepy) before peeking over the top. There she was walking down the steps with a fluff ball in her arms.
She placed the dog on the ground and then for the first time Stiles hears her voice. He swore it sounded like angels singing.
“Go on Prada, time for pee pee.”
Then his mom called his name again, this time getting the girls attention. Stiles had no choice but to reveal himself. So he took in a deep breath and stood up. His moving caught the girls eye and she looked up to the treehouse. Their eyes locked (Stiles couldn’t move). She smiled at him (Stiles couldn’t breath). Then she waved before picking up her dog again and heading inside. Stiles stood there for what felt like eons before he heard his mom again.
“Stiles!”
He quickly climbed down the steps. Jumped from the third last rung and raced inside. As he sat eating his supper, he couldn’t help but think, this had been the best day ever.
The next time her saw her, was two days later, when he and Scott were watching movies in Stiles living room. There was a knock on the door that made both the boys turn and look. Stiles made to move to answer, when his mom ducked her head in the room, saying she had it. The boys went back to watching their movie. Stiles could just make out another ladies voice. Then he heard that angelic voice speaking again.
He literally leapt off the couch and ran towards the front door. Only slightly composing himself when he reached the entryway. There she stood, on the threshold of his door, dressed in denim shorts and a pink tee, with converse on her feet. Today her hair was up in a high ponytail and Stiles couldn’t stop drooling. Just as Stiles started to walk towards the door, his mom was ushering them inside. Stiles panicked and ran back to the living room.
Two minutes later, the older lady and the girl were standing in the doorway to the living room.
“Stiles, Scott, these are our new neighbours.”
Both the boys turned and stood to face the newcomers.
“This is Mrs Martin and her daughter Lydia.” Stiles mom said introducing the duo.
Lydia? Lydia! Beautiful. Stiles thought to himself.
“This is my son Stiles and his best friend Scott.”
“Hi.” Scott said waving to the pair.
For some reason Stiles’ mouth wasn’t working. He was trying to speak, but he’s pretty sure he looks like a fish trying to take in water. Lydia hides her face behind her hands as she lets out a small chuckle. Scott just looks at his friend dumbfounded. His mom must’ve said something, but Stiles hasn’t a clue what it is. All he knows is that Lydia is being ushered into the living room to sit with the boys, and his mom and hers had made their way to the kitchen.
He’s pretty sure Scott is telling Lydia all about the movie they’re watching, but Stiles’ mouth still refuses to work. He somehow gets his body to move and sits back down in the sofa, Scott beside him. Lydia opted for the armchair. They sat and watched the rest of the movie in silence. Stiles would occassionally look to where Lydia was sitting, only to find her looking back. When the movie finished Lydia turned to him with a determined look on her face.
“Can I see your treehouse?”
Stiles and Scott share a look. Is she crazy? Boys only allowed. It’s their fort, their hideaway where they do boy things. Like read comics, and play pretend. No girl has ever been in their treehouse before. Well it’s not technically their treehouse, it’s Stiles’ treehouse, but because Scott is his best friend, it kind of is their treehouse. After a few beats and a few more looks shared between the two boys, Stiles turns to Lydia with a smile on his face.
“Sure.” It’s the first words to leave his mouth since she arrived.
Scott hits his leg, and looks at him wide eyed. Stiles just shrugs and stands. He heads towards the back door and Lydia is following close behind. Scott catches up to Stiles and pulls him off to the side, just as they walk out the door. Stiles turns to Lydia and holds one finger up to say hang on a sec and then moves towards the steps of the house, with Scott still gripping his arm tightly. When Scott checks to make sure they can’t be heard, he rounds on Stiles.
“Dude, are you crazy or something?” He starts whispering to Stiles. “She’s a girl. No Girls Allowed in the treehouse remember. It’s our number one rule.”
Just before he responds he feels a tap on his shoulder. He turns to see Lydia standing right behind him.
“Everything ok?” She asks with her hands clasped.
Before Scott can argue again, Stiles grabs Lydia’s hand and helps her up the ladder.
Lydia comes over every day after that and plays with the boys in their treehouse. It took a disgruntled Scott three days to be okay with that arrangement. But when Lydia proved to not be a girly girl, he relented. In turn making Stiles very happy. They find out she loves comics and that she prefers Marvel to DC. She is not afraid of getting dirty and would rather pitch a baseball with them, than play with the numerous dolls she has upstairs in her room.
Stiles, Scott and Lydia’s Moms become quite close too, spending afternoons having cups of tea, or whatever it is adults do. A week after Stiles first showed Lydia the treehouse, Scott and his Mom head off to Florida to visit his grandparents. In this time, Stiles and Lydia became very close. Spending everyday together, riding their bikes together, going to the park together and every afternoon they would come back and they would go up into the treehouse.
One night, a week before school started, their parents let them sleep in the treehouse. Like together. They stayed up late telling ghost stories and talked about the new school year. Lydia told Stiles she was nervous about starting at a new school, until she met him and Scott and now she was excited. Stiles tells Lydia all about the teachers at school. He tells her funny stories about stuff he and Scott get up to.
When they’ve exhausted all topics of conversation, Stiles goes to turn the lamp off. Lydia grabs his hand and Stiles has to do everything he can not to freak out. She looks at him with a desperate plea in her eye and asks if he can leave it on. Stiles just nods because she’s still holding his hand and he is still trying not to freak out. She slowly lets his hand drop and Stiles is pretty sure he will never, never wash his hand again.
“Are you and Scott going to be okay having a girl hanging around you?” Lydia asked as she climbed into her sleeping bag.
He hadn’t really thought about it much. He wondered how the other guys in his friend group would feel about having Lydia around. They would probably tease him and Scott mercilessly about it at first, but Stiles believes that they would all come around in the end. She had that affect on people. Plus there are a couple of girls in their friend group already, what will one more matter? He climbed into his sleeping bag and did up the zip before answering her confidently.
“Of course.” He replied turning on his side so their faces were level.
She gave him a smile that made his heart rate soar. They talked a little bit more, yawning in between their sentences. It was pushing close to midnight and after spending the day at the public pools, they were both exhausted. Stiles watched Lydias eyes close. She was as perfect in sleep as she was awake. He fell asleep with a smile on his face, revelling in the fact that him and Lydia were sleeping in the same proximity.
Once school started back, and like he predicted, the guys gave him and Scott a hell of a time for the first three days. It took Lydia throwing a punch at an older boy that made them all stand up and take notice. The older boy made the mistake of calling her carrot top. He never saw it coming. From that day forward the rest of Stiles’ guy friends treated her as if they’d known her their whole lives. That day also cemented Stiles’ feelings for her.
Who wouldn’t love a girl that was pretty and could throw a punch?
She was popular. The girls flocked to her as if she was a celebrity and the guys all fell in love with her. She became fast friends with Allison and Kira, but she always referred to Stiles as her best friend. She would come to him with everything. She would help him with his homework. They rode their bikes to school together and always ended back at Stiles’ place afterwards so they could hang out in the tree house. Scott would often join them.
The years went past and they were still as tight as ever. She was there for him when his mother passed away. He was inconsolable for a long time, but Lydia was there for him every day. When her father walked out of their lives, Stiles bought her icecream and the notebook. They sat and watched the movie with Lydia curled up next to him. They went to their school dance together and it was the happiest night of his life.
Then Lydia discovers make up, designer clothes, and other boys besides Stiles out there, that pay attention to her. Every week she would come to the tree house gushing about a different crush she had, completely oblivious to how Stiles felt. He couldn’t tell her this of course, so he let his heart break a little more everyday, but he would put on a brave face and let her talk about boys that weren’t him.
~
Fifteen! By the time they’re in the second half of their freshmen year in Highschool, Stiles is still one hundred percent in love with Lydia Martin, but Lydia Martin was gushing over Jackson Whittemore. The school douche bag. Biggest man on campus, well, at least in their year. Stiles being the best friend in the world, would plaster on his bravest smile listen to her rave on and on about how fabulous Jackson was, or how Jackson had smiled at her that day.
When Lydia rushed to the treehouse one day and announced Jackson was taking her to the dance, Stiles was sure a part of him died. At the end of that dance, Lydia and Jackson were official and Stiles took a back seat to the guy who liked to bully him. He soldiered on though, even as he and Lydia seemed to drift apart. They would still meet up at the treehouse every now and then, and Lydia was absolutely adamant that Stiles was still her best friend.
Heading towards the end of freshman year and Stiles had started to change. He grew a few inches, he beefed up a little in the arms, grew his hair out a little and for the first time ever, girls were taking notice of him. They would smile shyly at him in the hallways, they would bat their eyelashes at him when they walked past him in the library. It was all a little scary, but exciting at the same time. But the one girl he wanted to notice him didn’t.
During that summer he turned sixteen and got his drivers licence. His dad bought him a jeep for his birthday. He had a decent party too, that Lydia of all people organised for him. He spent the night surrounded by girls and Lydia spent the night wrapped up with her boyfriend. After everyone started to leave, including the douche bag, Lydia saunters up to Stiles with a sad look on her face. She nods her head in the direction of the treehouse and Stiles follows her without question.
They climb the ladder and sit down with their legs hanging over the edge.
“Did you have a fun night?” She questions a little solemnly.
“I did.” He answers looking down at the dissipating crowd.
“You sure were popular with the girls tonight.” She states finally turning to look at him.
He turns when he feels her eyes on him.
“Yeah, well, it’s the swooshy hair.” He jokes trying to coax a smile out of her.
It works, she chuckles a little before leaning her head on his shoulder. A soft breath leaving her lips.
“Why don’t we hang out as much anymore?” She asks quietly.
“Well because you have a boyfriend, who hates me by the way.” He replies.
Her head shoots up from his shoulder and she settles him with a quizzical look.
“No he doesn’t.” She scoffs.
Stiles quirks his eyebrows sending her a ‘are you kidding me’ look.
“Do I have to remind you how much pleasure he gets from needling me everyday, or how he likes to embarrass me in front of the whole school?”
“You’re exaggerating.” Her hands cross against her chest, a touch of anger in her voice.
“I’m really not.” He says back.
There’s silence as Stiles looks back down to the scant few people who are left in his backyard.
“Well it’s not like you make much of an effort to get to know him.”
“Excuse me? Are you being serious right now?” He asks, anger now rising in his chest. “Why would I want to get to know the guy who has practically bullied me my whole life?”
“Because he’s my boyfriend and as my best friend you should support whoever I’m with.”
Stiles laughs, like actually belly laughs, causing Lydia to set him with a scowl.
“I wouldn’t hold your breath Lydia, hell will freeze over before me and Jackson ever become friends.”
She doesn’t answer, she just stands up and storms back down the ladder. Stiles watches as she stomps across the lawn, through the gate and back to her house. He hung his arms over the railing of the treehouse and let out a heavy sigh. It was their first fight. If you could really call it that. More like a turning point in their friendship. And while Lydia and Jackson were together, Stiles and Lydia literally only saw each other in passing.
It’s not like he didn’t try to apologise for the night of his birthday. Not that he thought he had to apologise, he hadn’t asked her to be friends with the biggest bully in school. He sent her text messages and, he even stood knocking on her door for half an hour one day. But when Lydia Martin bears a grudge, you don’t ever get off easy. So the rest of the summer he and Scott drove around Beacon Hills and spent their days without Lydia.
He tried again when school went back, but she avoided him everyday. Even when they shared the same classes. His heart hurt and he wasn’t sure he would ever be anything with Lydia Martin again, let alone best friends. So when the new girl in school, Malia, asked him to go to the movies one night, he pushed down his feelings for Lydia and said yes. By the third week of classes, Stiles had a girlfriend and the distance between him and Lydia was insurmountable.
Scott and Allison had started dating during the summer and so the four of them spent a lot of time together on double dates. It was a tricky situation for Allison as she was still very close to Lydia, so they came to an agreement. Her name would never be mentioned when they hung out. Scott was of course in Stiles’ corner, because you know they’ve been friends their whole lives, plus he hates Jackson just as much as Stiles does.
When thanksgiving comes around that year, Stiles’ dad informs him that the Martins as well as the McCalls, the Argents and of course Malia, will be joining them for dinner. Stiles tries everything to change his mind, but the Martins are just as much ingrained into the parents lives as Lydia is - was - in Stiles’. Other than school, they had stayed completely away from one another. She very rarely sat at lunch with them now, and Lydia had moved seats in the three classes they shared.
So now they sit at opposite ends of the table in the Stilinski dining room not a word spoken between the two of them. Stiles conversed with Scott, Malia, his Dad and Mr Argent for most of the night. While Lydia kept close to Allison and her Mom. Malia is the only one at this table that doesn’t know the history between Stiles and Lydia, so therefore when she addresses Lydia, in her somewhat brash way, Stiles notices Lydia bristle a bit.
“So Lydia, Scott tells me you guys all pretty much grew up together.” Malia states.
Lydia sends her a curt nod.
“So how come you don’t hang around us at school?”
Stiles cringes at the question and Lydia sits up straighter. This is not exactly a conversation he wants to have over Thanksgiving dinner. Everyone here pretty much has a fair idea of what happened between them, but they’re not one hundred percent clued in. Stiles’ eyes slowly drift to Lydia’s direction and he recognises the smile she has on her face. Oh boy. Here we go. Her eyes flit quickly to his and then she leans a little over the table.
“Why don’t you ask your boyfriend.” She replies with a slight sneer to her tone.
Malia looks between the two, confusion on her face. Everyone else is silent as they wait for world war three to start. He wasn’t about to sit there and let him get the best of him. He presses his lips together in a tight line, before putting on his best smile, sending Lydia a look of indifference and spite. He turns to his girlfriend, grabs her hand under the table, places a soft kiss to her cheek before turning back to Lydia and speaks.
“Because Lydia is dating a moron.”
“Stiles!” Both his Father and Ms McCall shout in unison.
The wide eyes and look of pure indignation from Lydia is enough for him to almost regret his words. Almost. There’s silence for a long time as nobody can actually look at anyone. It’s the scraping of her chair that gets everyone’s attention. All heads fly up at the noise. She takes a sharp inhale and that noise alone stabs at his heart. They’ve never said a nasty word to each other, yet here he is dissing her boyfriend.
She stares at him with watery eyes and he tries to send her, what he hopes is an apologetic smile. She straightens up, her head held high, with her lips mashed together to stop her from crying, then she walks out of the room. He releases Malia’s hand under the table and lowers his gaze, when he hears the door slam shut loudly. He hears the mumbled whispers of everyone around him, but it’s Scotts voice and the scraping of two more chairs that makes him pay attention.
He looks up to see that Ms Martin and Allison have followed Lydia out the front door. He ignores the piercing looks from his dad, Melissa and Malia, instead focusing his best friend who is now ushering him in to the living area.
“Stiles….you know I hate Jackson just as much as you, but….Lydia.”
“I know man ok, I’ll apologise, but it infuriates me that she just doesn’t see it….doesn’t see how much of an asshole he is.”
Scott just nods in agreement, but it doesn’t stop Stiles from ranting on.
“He treats her like some sort of possession. She isn’t herself when she’s around him, like she is trying to pretend to be something she’s not.”
“Yeah, I get it. She’s certainly not that girl we met all those years ago.” Scott agrees. “But I don’t think insulting Jackson is going to get you in her good books.”
“Yeah, you’re right. I’ll apologise and then it will go back to us not talking again.” He relays with a defeated tone.
They return to the dining room. Stiles apologises profusely to everyone and then suggests taking Malia home. She doesn’t question him about the nights events, for which he is truly thankful. His mind is preoccupied with Lydia the whole way back to Malia’s house. The music from the radio the only sound filling the jeeps cab. He again apologises to her when he walks her to her front door. She just smiles a sad smile, pecks him on the lips before heading inside.
He ambles up the stairs of his place and throws himself on his bed once in his room. He stares up at the ceiling, scolding himself for his behaviour. He lays there ruminating over his situation. If he wants Lydia back in his life, he’s going to have to make an effort with Jackson. He cringes at the thought. He reaches into his pocket for his phone and opens up a new message. He finds her name and let’s his fingers hover over the keyboard.
To Lydia - I’m sorry. I was totally out of line. - S x
He hits send and then throws it off to the side. He jumps up quickly and heads for the bathroom not expecting a reply. He washes the night and it’s events off, as the water beats down on him. He continues to ponder his predicament and how to make it more bearable. He doesn’t have to be around Jackson all the time. He could just catch up with Lydia in their classes and after school. Once back in his room his decision is firm.
~
Twenty! It wasn’t until they started junior year, that Stiles repaired his friendship with Lydia. That was when she finally saw Jackson for the asshole he was. Stiles had broken up with Malia the next day after that awful thanksgiving. She was pretty cool about it, but that’s just Malia, she’s quite blasé about everything. Lydia came to Stiles on the second day of school, apologising and begging for him to be her friend again. Her best friend.
He didn’t take much convincing, he welcomed her back with a hug and a ruffle of her hair. Since then they were pretty inseparable. Even ending up at the same college together. They were back to hanging out together, studying together and face timing Scott together. It was the two of them against the world. And everything was going well until eight months ago. Stiles still hadn’t told Lydia how he felt and Lydia had a new boyfriend.
He’s a junior and Stiles has learnt that Lydia has a type. He’s as much an asshole and a bully as Jackson was. At least Stiles was able to tolerate this one. So with his feelings hidden down deep inside, because there was no way he was going to risk losing Lydia again, he stood by and watched Lydia be with someone that wasn’t him. She would probably never want to be with someone like him.
He goes to frat parties with them, football games with them, pretty much everywhere. Being the third wheel had become his job. Obviously being sick of having Stiles around all the time, Aiden had tried to set Stiles up with his friend Cora, but it was never going to happen, at least he got another good friend out of it. Cora was the the only other person besides Scott, who knew about Stiles’ feelings for Lydia.
His light at the end of the tunnel came in the form of a weeping Lydia, standing at his dorm door. She collapsed against him, staining his shirt with her tears, as she explained how she found Aiden and some bimbo making out in Aidens frat house. He guided her inside, sat her down on his bed and swiftly looked for a box of Kleenex. Sitting down next to her, he hands her the tissue and let’s her get all her tears out.
“Why do I always end up with assholes?” She asks him through soft sobs.
He’s not sure how to answer that, so instead he just shrugs.
“Why can’t all boys be like you. You’d make the perfect boyfriend. Why are you single again?” She questions.
“Haven’t met the right girl I guess.” He answers lying through his teeth.
He could hardly tell her the right girl is sitting right next to him, and that if she gave even the slightest hint that she was interested, he would ask straight away. But she never has and he has lived with that heartache for many years now.
“Well any girl would be lucky to have you.” She states leaning her head on his shoulder.
What about you? He thinks.
Instead he pulls up their favourite movie on his laptop, and grabs the half a tub of icecream out of the refrigerator. They lean back against his headboard, with Lydias head on his chest and his arm around her shoulder, as the opening credits for Star Wars scroll up the screen. If this is all he gets from her, he’ll take it. Maybe one day he will be brave enough to tell her the truth, but right now, he just concentrates on being her friend.
Two weeks later he is having coffee with Cora and telling her everything that happened that night. She’s currently grilling him out, for not taking a chance when the opportunity presented itself.
“The perfect window and you blew it.” She scolds, shaking her head.
“C'mon Cora, she had just broken up with her boyfriend.”
“You’ve been pining over this girl for half your life, just fucking tell her already.” She orders, leaning back in her chair and sipping on whatever connection she was drinking.
“I know I should, but I’m so scared, and you have absolutely no idea how scared I am of losing her friendship.” Stiles tells her, nervousness lacing his voice.
“Stiles, if you don’t tell her, you’re never going to know.”
And that was all that was said about the subject, as Cora rose from her chair and headed out of the crowded cafe. He sat there for a good long while, as he thought over his options. There were three. One, he could continue pining after her, happy in the fact that they are best friends. Two, he could tell her how he feels and she never speaks to him again. Three, he could just fucking man up and tell her and maybe, just maybe she might like him too.
With his decision made, he heads out of the cafe and straight towards Lydias dorm. It’s time. Ten years he’s felt this way about her, he can’t go on not knowing if he has a chance. He pushes through the double doors and takes the two flights of stairs, two steps at a time. When he finally reaches her door, he takes in a deep breath, steels his nerves and knocks. When there’s no answer, he knocks again, still to be only met by silence.
With his confidence still peaking, he takes his phone out of his pocket and brings up her number. He quickly types out a message and hits send before he can lose his nerve.
2.36pm - Hey, where are you? I’m at your dorm. Need to talk. S x
He leans against her door, as he rolls his cell over in his hand, waiting for a response. It doesn’t come straight away, which has Stiles pacing the floor in front of her door. When he still hasn’t heard from her after ten minutes, his confidence wanes and he heads back to the staircase completely defeated. As he exits the dorm building he takes one last look at his phone. Still nothing, so he shoves it back in pocket and with his head hung low, he makes his way to his dorm.
It’s hours later, when Stiles is finishing off an essay that is kicking his ass, when he finally hears back from Lydia. His phone buzzes next to him, he stares at it for a good few seconds, before finally swiping it and reading her reply.
7.42pm - Sorry, was out with some people from my bio class. What’s up? L x
Leaning back in his chair, he reads over the words a few times. His confidence is now completely shot, but he knows he still has to tell her. He can’t go on anymore without her knowing.
7.48pm - Really need to talk. Can you come over?
7.48pm - Sure. Give me twenty minutes. Are you okay?
7.49pm - I will be. See you soon.
She replies with a thumbs up emoji and Stiles’ heartbeat starts to become erratic. He puts away his homework. Tidying up the loose sheets of paper. Then he frantically starts to tidy up his room. He makes the bed, throws his dirty laundry basket into his closet, changes out of his sports shorts and tank and then sits on the edge of his bed fighting off a panic attack. When he hears the knock on the door, he tries to get his breathing in check.
He moves off the bed and slowly makes his way to the door. With one last deep breath he turns the handle. When he pulls the door open, she’s standing there in faded blue jean shorts and a sweater that’s too big on her. Her hair is in a loose braid over her shoulder and she’s wearing that smile he loves so much. So much for getting his heart rate under control. She is breathtaking, even in her simple outfit.
“Hi.” She’s says as she pushes into the room.
She flops down on his bed and it takes him a while to get his legs to move. He closes the door, takes another deep breath and turns and leans against it.
“So, what’s up?” She asks, leaning back on her elbows, her feet only just hanging over the edge.
She looks at him with her wide emerald eyes and cheeks a bit rosy from the chill in the night air. She’s so beautiful, he thinks, as he tries to remember the speech he had prepared. With his heart racing and his mind reeling he slowly closes the distance from the door to the bed. He sits at the top, leaning against the headboard, his legs stretched out before him. She sits up and crosses her legs and looks at him expectantly.
This is it. It’s time to man up.
“C'mon Stiles, your text sounded urgent.”
He swallows the lump that sits in his throat and begins his well rehearsed speech.
“We’ve known each other a long time yeh?” She nods. “We’ve been best friends for years.”
“The best of the best.” She adds her smile wider than before.
“Okay, so I kinda need to say something and I need you to not interrupt, because I’m nervous as hell and that won’t help.”
Her lips form a pout and her brows raise in confusion, she nods again.
He decides just to put it all out there.
“I love you Lydia, and not just the best friend kind of love. I’ve been in love with you for half my life.”
Her eyes go wide, but she remains silent like he requested, so he continues.
“That first day when you moved next door, was quite possibly the best day of my life. We became friends, then best friends, and slowly you completely filled up my heart.”
“Stiles….” She tries to say but he gives her a pleading look that has her clapping her mouth shut.
“Then I watched as you started noticing other guys, other guys that weren’t me and my heart would break a little more every time. It killed me when we weren’t talking and I was an absolute ass for letting you slip through my fingers.”
He notices that her eyes are welling up a little with tears, but he soldiers on anyway.
“That day when you came to my locker and begged for us to be friends again, I thought maybe I would have the courage to tell you, but I didn’t. So I continued to be the best friend, while I pushed my feelings down, knowing that you probably were never going to be interested in me.”
He takes a much needed intake of air and then boldly takes her hands in his.
“I love everything about you Lyds. Your smile, your eyes, your hair, your genius level brain, your scowl….everything.”
One tear has fallen down her cheek and it takes every bit of will power Stiles has, not to wipe it away with his thumb.
“I don’t expect you to feel the same and I will totally understand if you don’t want to be friends with me anymore, but I just couldn’t keep it bottled up anymore. I’m sorry.”
She squeezes his hand tightly, and then pulls one away so she can swipe at the tear that is sliding down her now flushed cheeks. She closes her eyes and Stiles wonders if this is it. Has he finally gone too far and driven her away? Will they ever be able to go back to where they weren’t? He’s done it. He has completely ruined their friendship with his stupid words. He’s just about to jump off the bed, when she climbs into his lap and takes his face in her hands.
“God I’ve been waiting to hear those words from you for so long.”
And then with his eyes wide from shock, she joins their lips together in a deep, breathless kiss. He’s so shocked at first, that he doesn’t respond, but when she tilts her head slightly and squeezes his face tighter, his shock disappears and he moves his mouth over hers. His hands that were sitting by his side, find purchase on her hips. He’s so delirious from the kiss, that he nearly misses the words she whispers against his lips.
“I love you too.”
~
Outback Living.
First chapter of my new WIP. Rated: M
Lydia gets sent to live with her great aunt in the Australian Outback. ___________________________________________
Chapter One
Outback Australia. Somewhere I never in my wildest dreams ever imagined I’d be. But here I am, sitting in the cab of a truck, that is probably as old as the relative I’m going to be living with. It looks like it use to be red, but who can tell with all the rust. The once new leather seats, are ripped and a spring sits uncomfortably underneath my thigh. The guy driving the beat up thing, hasn’t said a word, other than hello, since we left Alice Springs. Two hours ago!
My name is Lydia Martin, I’m nearly seventeen years old, and three weeks ago my life changed forever. My parents both died in an awful boating accident, and because I have no other living relative in the United States, I have been sent out here to live with a woman I met when I was three years old. My Great Aunt Sybill owns and runs a Cattle Ranch -sorry- Station, about two hundred and fifty miles (four hundred kilometres) north east of Alice Springs, Northern Territory, Australia.
It will be my home until I’m old enough to ‘care’ for myself. My mother and father stipulated in their wills, that if anything were to happen to either of them, then guardianship of me would be handed over to my grandfathers sister. I didn’t even know the woman was still alive. So instead of putting me through the foster system in the United States, a judge enforced the will, and the executor of my parents will, made arrangements for me to come out here.
I tried to fight it, but a sixteen year old orphan doesn’t have a lot of sway in a court of law. So now two weeks after my parents were buried, I sit in a rusty bucket, my head leaning against the frosty glass of the window, as I watch the red dusty scenery pass me by. The bumpy road must lull me to sleep, because next thing I know, a large hand is on my shoulder pushing me awake. I open my eyes to see nothing but more red, a splash of green and a cream two storey weatherboard house.
I push open the door and cringe when the hinges creak so loud, I’m afraid it will scare off the animals. I swing my legs out and hesitate putting my feet on the ground. I stare down at my impractical shoes, my eyes narrowing, wondering if they’ll survive the ten yard walk to the cobblestone path, leading up to the house. Sucking up my pride and ignoring the heat, I stand up fully, grab my purse from the foot of the cab and follow my driver.
The house is actually quite majestic. Freshly painted with a wrap around porch and shutters on the windows. The green I noticed before, is a well tended garden full of succulents and ivy. The driver -Gus his name is- knocks once on the door, before opening it and making his way into the entryway. I’m not sure what his relationship to my aunt is, but he seems extremely comfortable in the large house. He stops at the foot of the stairs and calls to my aunt.
“Sybill, I’m back with the girl.”
She must be deaf, it’s the only thing that explains the loudness of his voice. He leads me into what looks like a parlour and gestures for me to sit. I do so with out a word. I’m not sure how long it takes for Aunt Sybill to come downstairs, but it’s long enough for me to peruse the area. There’s a large fireplace sitting opposite me, with a mantle covered in photo frames. To the left is a set of double doors that lead out to what seems to be a patio area.
My neck has just craned to try and peek into the kitchen when a throat clears from behind me. I stand up immediately and turn to face my aunt, who looks fantastic for her sixty odd years of age. The grey hair is really the only thing that makes her look old. She’s robust, but not in an overweight way, more athletic. Her blue eyes still look bright, and her skin looks like she’s been swimming in the fountain of youth. God I hope I can look like that at sixty.
“Lydia. Welcome to my home.” She greets in a strong Australian accent.
My aunt was born and bred in New York, only moving out here when she fell in love with her late husband, at twenty eight years of age. There’s not a hint of the New Yorker in her at all.
“Ma'am.” I reply as astutely as I can.
Her face softens and a kind smile graces her face. She opens her arms to me and I’m a little shocked at the invitation. I hestiantly walk towards her, and when I’m only an arms length away, she pulls me into a strong hug. The breath I didn’t know I was holding, whooshes out of my lungs as she pats my back. I’ve never been one for much affection, but somehow, this woman who I barely know, is embracing me and it feels good.
“No need to be so formal love.” She explains as she holds me against her. “I’m sorry about your folks.”
Moving so she has one arm wrap around my bicep, she squeezes my arm and places a kiss to my temple.
“C'mon, let me show you 'round.” She suggests.
She shows me 'round like she promises, the kitchen, the living room, the den, the laundry, the bathroom that I will be sharing with her grand daughter and then my room. Quaint, is the only word that comes to mind. A white painted iron frame bed, the headboard made up of intricate detail. A patchwork quilt covers the bed. The window is a bay window, with a seat built into it. There’s a white wooden six drawer dresser, with antique mirror hanging above it.
“Ally is two doors down, so if there’s anything you need just give her a holler.” My aunt explains. “Why dont ya get changed and meet me downstairs in half an hour, I’ll show you some of the land.”
Then she’s gone and I’m left in my 'quaint’ room, with only my thoughts. I sit down on the bed, and wonder if anything I bought with me would be appropriate for a walk around the land. I own one pair of jeans, just one, but it’s too hot for those. I decide instead to get settled in. The rest of my stuff arrives next week, so until then, I undo my suitcase and start to put things away in the drawers and closet.
That takes me all of ten minutes. I quickly shuffle through my clothes and thank the heavens when I find a pair of jean shorts and a suitable top. My vans are the closest things I have to boots, so I pull them on and tie up the laces. I tie my hair up in a ponytail and with a few minutes to spare, I sit on the cushion bench near the window, and finally look out at the property I will be calling home. A tiny gasp leaves my mouth when I see the sight before me.
Acres and acres of land as far as the eye can see. From this side of the house I can make out some of the cattle off in the distance. Closer to the house is what looks like a stable and I can see at least five horses roaming around in their adjoining paddock. To the left of the stable is what I assume is a carriage house. I imagine this is where the station hands live. My eyes wander to the far end, where I see a guy and a girl kissing under a large tree.
Deciding I’m intruding on a private moment, I push away from the window and move to head back downstairs. My aunt is waiting for me in the same room she found me in. She tries to be unaffected when she takes in my attire, but I can see that she is probably laughing inside, at the city girl trying to be a cowgirl. However she just takes my hand and leads me outside. The intensity of the heat hits me like a brick. I’m suddenly wishing I had thought to put sunscreen on.
“Maybe tonight you can talk to Ally about helping out with some new clobber.”
I eye her curiously and she just smiles back at me.
“Where is Ally anyway?” I ask.
I’ve never met this fabled grand daughter. All I know is that she is my age and lost her mother to cancer six years ago. Her and her father moved out from the city when he couldn’t get any work. That’s it. That’s all I know, and it’s only because my mother had mentioned something about it last Christmas. I’ve never even seen a photo of this Ally, mind you, she probably hasn’t got a clue who I am either. But at least there will be another girl around.
My Aunts head turns a little to the left and I see her mouth pull up in a smile.
“Well it looks like she’s currently in a lip lock with her young man.”
I follow her eye line and see that the two I had spied before, haven’t moved at all.
“Ally, Scott, come o'er here.” She shouts.
The couple seperate quickly and even from this distance I can see the blush that has taken over their faces. I watch intently as the two walk over. Ally is beautiful. Long dark brown hair that cascades over one shoulder in a braid and skin that has obviously been sun kissed. Scott, well, I certainly understand the attraction. He isn’t overly tall, but he’s built solidly, short dark hair that he is just now covering with his hat.
“Guys, this is Lydia. Lydia, this is Allison, sorry, Ally, my grand daughter and Scott is one of our Jackaroos.”
“Hi.” Ally greets as Scott sends me a G'day.
Then Ally is drawing me into her arms and hugging me as if we were the best of friends. I don’t hide my shock well and she giggles a little as she pulls away.
“Oh God, it’s going to be so good having another sheila around.” She states as she puts her hands into her back pockets, jutting her hip out just so.
“Well ladies, if you’ll 'scuse me, lots to do before tucker time.” Scott says, tipping his hat at us.
My aunt heads back into the house, but Ally loops her arm through mine and starts telling me about everything and everyone here, as we walk along the fenced paddock, towards the horses. Once there she lets go of my arm and climbs up on the railing. She nods her head for me to do the same. Once we’re both perched up on the thin wood, were silent for the longest time. Not that I’ve really said anything, I haven’t been able to get a word in edgewise.
We sit and watch the going ons of the station and I can’t help but think, that I have found a kindred spirit in Ally, and maybe my time here won’t be so bad. That thought is reinforced, when we’re all seated around the large dining table later that night for dinner. It’s right there, that I meet the one person who I might actually consider staying here for. He has dark hair, whiskey coloured eyes, a smile that could bring me to my knees and looks a little bit dangerous.
Can be read here too
http://archiveofourown.org/works/10613208/chapters/23469948
Coffee n Chill updated
Chapter Eleven up. Read here http://archiveofourown.org/works/9647732/chapters/23340558