“Why the fuck do you have Stiles’ jersey in your bag?!”
All I can do is open my mouth as I try to think of an answer. I mean, I had only accepted it as a friend, and I thought she was mad at me so she wouldn’t care. But, I don’t think that’s a good excuse for accepting it. I’m definitely not mentioning the conversation about Stiles wanting to ask me out after what I just did with Lydia. She’ll freak out even more. But, we’re not a defined thing, and I don’t know what’s going on between me and Stiles. How did I get in this situation?
She took my silence as a bad thing, and I mentally curse myself for not being able to fucking explain anything well or in time. “Oh my god! He asked you to wear it! Didn’t he?!” Her voice is higher than usual, and I know that there is no good answer to this so I just nod. She scoffs at me, causing a painful ping in my chest. “And you accepted it?” I just nod again. “Wh-why would you accept this from him? I told you what it means this morning!” She lowers her voice from a yell, and now she just sounds confused and exasperated. I open my mouth to answer, but she cuts me off. “Oh my god….. are you dating him now? How could you be with me just now and be dating him?!” I can tell she’s getting worked up again because her voice went back to being high. I close my eyes and take a breath. “No, Lyds. We’re not dating. He asked me to wear it as one of his best friends. You yourself told me it didn’t have to be romantic.” I look up at her hoping that she’s understanding. She crosses her arms and waits for me to continue. “It was in the hallway after you started acting weird in class, and I was sad about it. He comforted me and asked me to wear it as a friend,” I trail off when I realize I’m rambling. Her face softens, and she uncrosses her arms. “Why didn’t you mention it before if he asked you to wear it as friends? Like, before we just did that?” She gestures to the bed, and I lower my head guiltily. She moves to sit on the bed next to me, and I pull the sheet up further to cover myself. I sigh and open my eyes, looking anywhere but at her. “Well, when I first got here I was just worried about why I thought you were mad at me. And then, all of this happened,” I say, gesturing to the bed like she did before continuing, “and honestly, the jersey was the last thing on my mind while I was being with you. Intimately.” I blush and she lifts my head to look at her. “I get it. I did have you a little distracted from the real world for a while.” We both laugh.
Thoughts run through my mind as I try to figure out how to tell her that Stiles and I might have more than friendly feelings for each other. She catches me zoned out and waves her hand in front of my face. “Helloooo?” I shake my head out of my thoughts, and she giggles. “Hmm?” I say, snapping my eyes back to focus on her. “You looked a little spaced for a second.” She tucks a piece of hair behind my ear before getting up from the bed to continue getting dressed. She tosses me my clothes, and I stand from the bed to get dressed quietly. I notice her watching me. “What? Do I have something on me? Is my hair weird?” I say smoothing down the hair on my scalp. I finish dressing, and she laughs and walks over to me to cup my face. “No! No, it’s just that you are so cute all post-sex.” I give a half smile because I don’t know how to respond. She pulls me in and pecks my lips. She notices that my lips didn’t respond as quickly as before and quirks her brows together. “What’s wrong, Y/N?” She searches my eyes as I just freeze, suddenly unable to make my mouth work in any way. I bite my lip nervously as I prepare to tell her the truth. “It’s…about the jersey…” I say slowly, trying to test how she’ll react. She moves her hands from my cheeks to rub my arms. “What about it? I understand now that it’s just a friend thing. And besides, we aren’t officially dating for real yet. So, you can wear his Friday.” I snap my eyes at her when she says the word “yet”. Oh my god, I don’t know what I’m doing. I like both of them a lot.
I take a breath and decide to just blurt it out. “Lyds, I’m gonna tell you something, and you gotta promise not to get upset.” Her curious expression turns to a serious one, and she nods. I take a quick, deep breath and just tell her the truth. “Stiles swears he asked me as just a friend, but that brought up the fact that he said he wanted to ask me out at some point. So, I know he likes me romantically, and I encouraged him because I like him like that, too. And I think that even if I hadn’t thought you were mad at me today, I would’ve still reacted the same. So, it’s not to like get back at you for shutting me out or anything. It’s-” She removes her hands from me and holds one up for me to stop talking as she sits down. A look of shock washes over her face and then a look of sadness. I walk towards her with my arms out and try to explain. “I really like you both, and I just don’t know how this happened. And I-” She throws both of her hands up in between us to stop me from approaching, and she gets up to cross the room to her closet. “Lydia? What are you doing?” I say cautiously, swallowing the lump in my throat from this situation.
She pulls a hanger from the closet and removes what looks like my jersey from it. After putting the hanger back, she crosses the room again to stand in front of me. Before I even understand what’s happening, she’s putting my jersey in my hands. “Lyds, why are you giving this back?” I ask, a small crack threatening to give away my sudden sadness. She takes a shaky breath, presumably trying to hide her own sadness. “Because I don’t think I should wear it unless you figure out what you want.” I shake my head rapidly and try to give it back to her, but she won’t take it. “No, no. I-I’ll give Stiles his jersey back. Just, p-please don’t do this..” I stutter out, my eyes beginning to sting with tears. Without a word, she moves to open her door and stands there deflated. “I think you should go home, Y/N.” And with those seven words, I fall apart. The tears flow rapidly, and I try my best to not sob loudly. Because when I do, it doesn’t stop for a long while. I wipe my eyes and gather my things as quickly as possible. I look at her one last time, hoping she would tell me to stay. But, she closes her eyes tight and sniffles, and with that, I dart out of her house and to my car. Once there, I let the loud sobs rack my body and rest my head against the wheel. Thoughts race through my head about the events of the past few hours. How could I fall for two people? How could she kick me out after we were just so close? And why did I feel so bad that she kicked me out? I’m so freaking confused about everything, and it feels like it’s all my fault. I sit there like that for a few minutes, before getting the crying under control long enough to drive home.
I pull up to my house and enter quietly, hoping not to wake anyone. As I creep up the stairs and head towards my room, I hear muffled talking. No. Muffled arguing. I stop in front of my parents’ door and quietly place my ear to it to listen. I can’t quite make out what they are arguing about, but it doesn’t sound good. They never argue like this, that I know of. I head towards my room and close the door. My dog perks his ears up, and I pat him on the head. “It’s gonna be okay, sugar,” I say, not so convincingly. So many feelings are rushing through me: confusion, anger, hurt, heartbreak, sadness, even physical pain in my chest. To keep myself from sobbing again and alerting my parents that I’m home, I decide to just be numb. Numb never really means numb. You’re aware of all of your emotions. You just don’t react to them as if they’re your own. I sometimes compare it to being a zombie. Because essentially I am. I don’t react to anything, nothing affects me. This isn’t the first time I’ve done it, but it’s definitely one of the hardest times. I empty my duffle bag of the dirty clothes from today and fill it with clean practice clothes and clean clothes to wear tomorrow. I fill my bag with necessities, such as brushes, toothpaste/toothbrush, deodorant and all that jazz. After putting those things in my bag, I change out of my clothes and into a pair of clean pajamas. I grab my bags and head to the door. I stop in my bedroom doorway and pat my leg as a signal for Y/D/N to follow. Which he does. After getting out to my car, I text my mom, saying I’m staying at Lydia’s, and that I’ll be back tomorrow after practice. I start my car and leave, not wanting my drama to make whatever they are arguing about worse. After several minutes of driving around aimlessly, I decide I better find somewhere to stay. A few more minutes of driving passes, and I pull up into the driveway and park behind the familiar blue jeep.
I sit there for a while tapping my fingers on the wheel, trying to figure out how to approach this. Should Stiles’ house really be the place that I spend the night after what just happened? And what if he doesn’t even let me stay? I look over at Y/D/N, who stares at me intently. “What should a do, sugar?” He probably senses that I’m not okay, but he doesn’t see the signs of it, like crying. So, he waits patiently for me to need him. Which I always do. After looking at each other for a while, I come to a decision. “I know. I know. You’re right.” I say as if he’s actually holding up the other end of the conversation. I breathe out a huff of hot air before pulling out of the driveway and parking around the block. I dig through my bag, searching for the stupid article of clothing that started this whole mess. “Aha!” I exclaim to myself as I pull it out of my bag, slightly startling Y/D/N. “Sorry,” I say and pet him tentatively. After cracking the windows and exiting my car, I beep it to make sure it’s locked and make my way back around the corner to the front porch of Stiles’ house. I raise my hand to knock, but I freeze. Suddenly, I’m heartbroken that I’m about to do this, and it’s extremely hard to be numb to it. Because I know how he’ll react. He’ll think he did something, and demand to know what’s wrong. I just can’t deal with that right now. And I don’t even know why I’m doing this, I just feel like it’ll solve something. Instead of knocking and having to see his face, I decide to hang his jersey on the doorknob. After successfully making sure it stays there, I bang on the door a few times and dash towards the street and hide behind a car. I peer through the windows of it and wait to see if he opens it. A minute or so later, a groggy looking, shirtless Stiles appears with gray sweatpants hanging loosely on his hips. God damn it, why is he so fucking gorgeous and making this so hard. He looks around sleepily for a second and after seeing no one, moves to close the door. He stops when he looks down and sees the jersey there. It’s too far away to be able to tell what his face looks like. Shock or worry maybe? He grabs the jersey and takes a few steps out onto his porch and looks around, searching for me. I duck my head when his eyes scan over the car I’m behind and hope he didn’t see me. Scrunching my eyes closed, I will myself to be numb. To not react to how much this is hurting me. It’s like ending something that never had a chance to be something, and that’s agonizing. I hear the door slam closed and venture a peek to see if he went inside. He did. I get up carefully and jog back to my car. Once inside, my phone lights up with a text from Stiles.
Stiles: Y/N why did I just find my jersey on my porch?
I ignore it and start my car, making my way to where I hope I’ll be staying tonight. On the way there, my phone lights up with more messages.
Stiles: Are you giving it back??
Stiles: Why though? Did I do something wrong?? :(
Stiles: Please answer me. I’m getting worried.
Stiles: Y/N just talk to me.
With each new message, my heart pings more painfully than the last time. I gulp, trying to swallow the cries that want to escape. Y/D/N must sense that the numb is wearing off because he lets out a few tentative whines. I glance at him and muster a smile for this little ball of fur that loves me. “I know. We are almost there, and then I’ll be good. I promise.” He lays his head back down on his paws and waits for the journey to be over. But, before it is, my phone lets out and earsplitting howl. Which startles me and causes me to swerve the car a bit, before I even it out again. I realize that it’s Stiles’ ringtone. He must have given up on texts and decided to call. I carefully reach over and turn it onto silent, so that I can focus on driving. I hear the vibrations, still constantly going off, and I smile to myself a bit as I remember the day that we recorded that ringtone for him.
“Ah! Stiles stoppp!! I can’t breathe!” I scream through fits of laughter as my eyes begin to water. “No! Not until you admit that Star Wars is better than Star Trek!!” He screams wildly as he continues his tickle assault on my abdomen. “Never, ever, ever would I tell a lie to you, Stiles!!” I giggle as I try to fight off his slender fingers. Eventually, he realizes that I’m not going to budge and stops, leaving his hand on my stomach as I lay sprawled out on the floor. “Damn you and your vow to always be honest with me.” He says dramatically, shaking his fist at the ceiling. “I think you should try out for the school play with that acting,” I say sarcastically, looking up at him from my place beneath him on the ground. After the debate on SW v. ST broke out, he began to tickle me, and we somehow wrestled each other onto the floor. I’m much smaller than he is, so it was easy for him to pin my arms above my head with one hand and tickle me with the other. All while straddling me. “Oh, yeah? And what’s the play about?” He asks curiously, while still holding my hands above my head. I think hard, closing my eyes while trying to remember. My eyes shoot open as I remember what it was, not realizing Stiles had leaned over and was close to my face now. “Oh, um. Hi.” I say as my cheeks begin to blush. He smirks with a devilish look that I had never seen before on him. “Hi. Don’t mind me. What’s the play?” I swallow, suddenly nervous about the position we were in. “It’s, uh, it’s,” I clear my throat and continue, “ it’s Little Red Riding Hood.” I manage to stutter out. He quirks an eyebrow and chuckles. “Oh, and what part should I play.” He says moving closer to my face a bit more. “Um. Well, there’s the lumberjack, or..” I whisper, being cut off by him. “Or the Big Bad Wolf. I like it. But, only if you’ll play Little Red?” I giggle. “And why would you want me to play that part?” I ask curiously. The smirk returns to his face as he answers, “Run the main lines with me real quick, and you’ll see. You know, the ‘my what big teeth you have’ thing?” I nod, not knowing where he’s going with this.
I clear my throat and begin with the lines I remember. “What a deep voice you have,” I whisper, feigning a higher voice. “The better to greet you with,” he growls, and I suddenly have a warm feeling between my legs. “Um, what big eyes you have.” I continue on. “The better to see you with.” He whispers leaning closer, only inches away now. “What big hands you have,” I say softly. “Mm. The better to grab you with.” He says as he slides his hand under my shirt higher and higher. “Uh! What big teeth you have!” I say, panicking about what he’s gonna do next. His hand stops just below my breast, and he lowers his head so that his breath is fanning my lips. “The better to eat you with my dear.” He says seductively, and he moves to close the gap between our lips. “Stiles! What the hell is going on here?!” I hear a voice boom as the front door slams close. My eyes widen in panic, and everything’s a blur. Stiles launches himself off of me to a standing position, while I release the breath I didn’t know I was holding. I lay there on the floor, not knowing what to do so I just panicked. And I literally played opossum, throwing my hands over my face and not moving. Stiles tries to stifle a panicked laugh at our predicament. “Oh, uh, we-we were just running lines for the school play.” He answers his dad’s question. I peek my through my fingers and see the red creeping up in between the moles on his neck. “Ahuh. And you had to do that on top of Y/N, in the middle of my living room?” The sheriff asks, and I audibly groan. I’m so embarrassed that the fricking sheriff caught me underneath his son like that. Stiles laughs this time, not being able to hold it back. “Next time it’ll be in my room?” He ventures. “Ahuh. Do we need to have the discussion about condoms?” The sheriff asks his son, and Stiles’ face freezes flashing his eyes to me for a second before back to his dad. While I recover my eyes I faintly whisper, “Oh God, please strike me with lightning right now.” The sheriff laughs. “No! Dad. Sheesh. It’s not even like that.” He says weirdly. I uncover my eyes again to see him looking at his dad weirdly as if he’s trying to talk to him through facial expressions. “Rigghhht. Y/N are you staying for dinner tonight?” His dad directs his question at me. I move my hands and tilt my head up so that I’m looking at him upside down. “Yeah, that’d be nice Mr. Stilinski.” I give an embarrassed smile, and he leaves the room to change out of his uniform.
Stiles bursts out laughing, while I just lay there completely confused and self-conscious about that encounter. “Ohhh, come on. Enough with the pity party.” He says has he takes my hands and hoists me up to my feet. I wipe myself off and huff. “I’m not having a pity party.” I glare at him until his smile fades. “Oh, come on, Y/N. It wasn’t that bad. Besides, I think I found a new passion in life.” He grins at me. I scoff. “Is that theater or torturing me?” I say playfully shoving him. “Well, as much as I love torturing you, I love doing the opposite more.” He winks at me, and my mouth falls open. He chuckles, and steps closer. “I think I’d make a pretty good wolf. Don’t you think?” I scrunch my eyebrows skeptically, and he mocks being offended. “Don’t believe in me? Here listen to this!” He steps back and takes a wide stance. He clears his throat before throwing his head back and letting out the most awful howl. “Ow-ow-owwoooooooo!” He drags out the last part. I burst out laughing, for the second time that day. He goes to continue, but I cover his mouth with my hand. “Wait!! Wait, I wanna record this!!” I grab my phone and step back so that I can get his whole wolf stance into view. I click a picture of it and move closer to record the sound. I hit record and give him a thumbs up. He proceeds to redo the howling. Maybe more awful than before, and I try to hold in my laughter to get a clean howl on the recording. Once I recorded a good amount, I hit stop and began laughing again. “You’re crazy Mischief Stilinksi!” I say, and he laughs with me. “Well then you must be a full moon, 'cuz I’m only crazy around you! Plus, you’re just as beautiful. Even more so.” He says the last part seriously, but I couldn’t help but giggle at how cheesy he is. At the end of my giggle fit, I let out a content sigh. “Oh my gosh,” I giggle just a bit more, “I love you, Mischief,” I say incredulously, shaking my head at him. And actually, not even realizing I said it. Then, his dad called down the hall that dinner was about done and with one last look at Stiles I skipped to the kitchen to eat. Not noticing the phone in his hand.
So, that picture is his contact one and shows up along with the howl, every time he calls. I laugh to myself, remembering that day fondly, but nothing about what I had said before dinner. Before I knew it, I was around the corner from my destination. After, parking the car around the block, I gathered the things I needed for the night and called for Y/D/N to follow. He’s so well behaved, I mostly don’t need a leash. But, once we step onto the porch in front of the door, I pick him up and raise one of my hands to knock. Before I could even knock, the door swings open, and I come face to face with, hopefully, someone who will let me stay with them. I open my mouth, surprised because I didn’t let them know I was coming. “How did you-” I say looking over my shoulder and back at them when they answered. “Your dog.” They say simply, and I remember what they told me. “Is it okay if I crash here tonight? I think everyone hates me right now, and I just-” I manage to choke out, suddenly becoming emotional again. They pull me into a hug, and my dog sniffs crazily, trying to get to know the new person. They rub my back soothing me and usher me inside. “Of course it’s okay. Why don’t you get ready for bed, then we’ll talk about it, okay?” I nod, wiping my nose on my sleeve. I get my phone out and turn it on since it’s no longer ringing. As I pass the table in the hall, I set my keys and phone on it and head up the stairs. After showering and getting ready for bed, I picked up Y/D/N and settled into the bed they were letting me sleep in. Soon, they came back in and sat on the corner of the bed next to me. “I don’t want to take your bed.” I begin to feel like I’ve already overstayed. “No, no. It’s absolutely fine. I’ll sleep in the chair. I’ve done it before.” They say and laugh. I smile sadly and hold my dog to me. They move so that they are sitting next to me against the headboard, and I lay my head on their shoulder. “Thank you. I don’t know what I would’ve done if you said no.” I feel their shoulders shake as they laugh. “I would never abandon a friend in need. So, tell me what happened.” And so I did, trying my best to keep it together so it didn’t come out like a garbled, whiny mess. After crying so much again, I finally felt sleepy. Soon, I drifted off to sleep, barely noticing when the bed shifted as they left to go do something. I was so heavily asleep, that I had no idea what was going on downstairs.
I’m lying in bed, half asleep when I hear a loud banging on the door downstairs. My dad is working a night shift at the station, so it’s either someone who wants to kill me or I don’t even know who would knock this late. I make my way down the stairs with my sweats hanging around my hips and shirtless because it was rather hot earlier. I try to look out the window to see who it is, but if there’s anyone there I can’t see them. After swinging the door open, I look around and find that no one is around. God. Kids must be seriously crazy to be ding-dong-ditching the sheriff’s house. And they didn’t even ring the door bell. I roll my eyes and swing my head low as I go to shut the door. But when I do, I see my jersey carefully hung from the doorknob. I furrow my eyebrows trying to think how it got here. Maybe Y/N lost it, and someone returned it? Doubtful. Y/N is so organized, she wouldn’t lose this. Not in less than a day. Which means that something must’ve happened to make her change her mind about wearing it. I grab it off the doorknob and take a few steps out onto my porch. She must still be close, she would want to make sure I got it back. Right? After scanning the dark for a few seconds, I realize she must’ve left because she doesn’t want to face me. I step back into the house, closing the door behind me. Trying to think of what I should do, I run upstairs and grab a shirt and shoes. Before heading out to my jeep, I shoot her like a million texts, trying to figure out what I did. With the jersey in my hand, I settle into Roscoe and make my way to Lydia’s. The only place I could think of since I don’t really know where she lives.
I could go to the station and find her address, but that would take too long. While I’m on my way, I call her multiple times, hoping that that god awful ringtone would make her answer. After several calls, I realize she must’ve turned it off. I pull up at Lydia’s and rush into her house and up to her room. She never locks the friggin door, which is not safe. When I burst into her room, she’s startled and lets out an angry, “Stiles!” “Sorry, Lyds. I was wondering if you know where Y/N is? She gave this back to me, and I don’t know why.” I say confused, as I hold up my jersey to her. Her eyes widen, and she purses her lips. Only then do I realize that her eyes are puffy, and her nose is red. “She really gave that back?” She questions me sadly. “Yes, Lydia. Why have you been crying, though?” I interrogate her, never liking when she’s hurting. She gives a half smile and laughs slightly. “Of course she gave that back.” She shakes her head and rolls her eyes as she whispers to herself. “What’s that supposed to mean?” I furrow my eyebrows at her. She’s acting weirder than usual. She lets out a sigh. “Oh. Nothing. And I’m fine. I just…had an argument with my boyfriend. A big one.” I sit down beside her and put my hand on her shoulder. “You mean Y/L/N? What did he do? I swear I’ll kick his ass if he hurt you.” I say, fuming that he’s such an ass. She laughs loudly. “No! No, you won’t. Because it was both of our faults, and it was a dumb argument. But, anyway,” she changes the subject, “I don’t know where she is. I assume she’s at home. But, I don’t know where she lives either.” I watch her avert my eyes as she tells me this. I think she’s lying about knowing where she lives. They’re there all the time. I know because they always post on social media about their hangouts. I decide to let it slide, knowing that if she was going to tell me she would. “Well, okay. Thanks anyway.” I sigh, moving from the bed to the door. “Stiles?” I turn to face Lydia. “Hm?” I ask while scratching my neck. “If you find her,” she bites her lip, trying to figure out what to say, “could you-could you tell her I’m sorry? And that it was wrong of me to do that? She’ll know what I mean.” She looks sad, and it makes me wonder if she fought with Y/N and not Y/L/N. I look her up and down, then nod before leaving her house. I lock the door behind me as I exit.
Desperate to find her, I go to the only person that I know can find her quickly. I realize that I could wait until tomorrow, but I’ll never be able to sleep until I know why. The closer I get to my destination, the more my heart starts to ache. What if I don’t want to know the answer? What if that day at my house, and what she said in the hallway today didn’t mean anything? My breathing starts to get shallow a couple blocks away from where I’m going. God, don’t have a panic attack in the jeep. Don’t have a panic attack at this very moment. I’m looking at all the parked cars as I get closer to the house, and I notice one around the corner that looks familiar. I stop the jeep in the middle of the road and get out, leaving the door open. I walk up to the car, trying to look through the windows without looking creepy. Deciding that there’s no way to not look creepy at night while looking into someone’s car, I put my face close to the glass and cup my hands around my eyes to see. It’s really clean. Almost nothing personal in it. I’m about to walk away when a glint catches my eye. On a dainty chain hanging from the rear view mirror, is a charm that I know belongs to Y/N. It’s a light blue circle with a black jewel eclipsing part of it. It’s a moon. I got it for her a few days after the Red Riding Hood thing at my house. The black jewel is adjustable so that she could make the moon different phases for whenever she wants. I’ve never seen her wear it, but she told me she put it someplace she would always see it.
I stare at the necklace incredulously. Why would her car be parked around the block from where I’m going? Does she live on this block, and I didn’t know? I get back in my jeep, drive a few seconds further and pull into the driveway behind the dirt bike. I jog up to the porch with jersey in hand and knock rapidly on the front door. I would let myself in, but Melissa confiscated the key I made. He better get his little wolf ass up because this is an emergency. My knocking stops when he cracks the door open and looks through it. Upon seeing me, his face turns from confused to shocked. I tilt my head at his reaction because he’s usually happy to see me. He keeps the door cracked, though. “Hey, man! What are you doing here so late?” He smiles at me. A bit falsely if you ask me. “I need your help. Why do you have the door like that? I thought Melissa was at the hospital.” I look at him questionably. He’s hiding something. Which is weird because we don’t keep secrets.
He makes an “o” shape with his mouth and furrows his eyebrows before answering. “Uh, yeah. Yeah, she is. I just, uh,” he clears his throat, “I’m just super tired from practice. So, what do you need help with?” He closes his eyes for a moment, which to anyone else it would seem like he was just tired. But, I’m not anyone else. He’s listening to something.After opening his eyes again, he opens the door a little wider and stands up straight. Though he still doesn’t let me in. Getting slightly more agitated by the minute, I begin to ramble. I told him how I had asked Y/N to wear my jersey and how she had said yes. I told him about how afterward there was mention of asking her out and how she played coy. And how in the middle of the night she randomly leaves the jersey on my door handle. “And that is why I need your help, Scotty. I don’t know what I did or what’s wrong. And she won’t answer her phone so I can’t figure it out. But, I just want to know what’s wrong so I can fix it. So, I need you to track her because Lydia says she doesn’t know where Y/N lives, but she’s lying.” I finish with a huff and shove my jersey at him.
He shifts uncomfortably in the doorway, causing the door to open up slightly more. He doesn’t realize this as he slowly pushes the jersey away from himself and back to me. “Dude, I’m not gonna track her in the middle of the night. Or ever. That’s like a violation of her privacy or something.” I begin to argue, “But, I-” Scott cuts me off with a lighthearted tone. “Stiles, I’m sure if Y/N wanted you to know where she was, you would know. And I’m sure she also has a reason for giving the jersey back. Maybe it’s not about you. Maybe she’s going through some things that you don’t know about or understand.” He raises his eyebrows wondering if I understood and was going to leave. He knows too damn much. Why is everyone conspiring against me finding Y/N?! I swing my jersey over my shoulder and shove my hands in my pockets. “Yeah, you’re right. I guess I’ll just catch her tomorrow.” Scott lets out a relieved breath and smiles, waiting for me to go back to my jeep. As I turn around, my eyes wander just past Scott’s head and into the hall. My sight lands on the table against the wall, and I freeze in my tracks. “Scott,” I say through gritted teeth, “why are Y/N’s keys on your hall table?!” My voice rises slightly.
His eyes widen, and he whips his head around to look at where I’m looking. He turns back to me and snaps the door to his body, but it’s too late. I’ve already seen her stuff laying on the table. “Those aren’t Y/N’s keys.” He tries to lie his way out. So much for honesty. “Scott. I can see all her weird little charms on it!” I raise my voice more and throw my arm in the direction of the table which is still blocked by the door. And suddenly, I remember seeing her car around the corner. I connect the pieces in my head, and without anyone else filling in the blanks, my mind goes to the worst place. “ARE YOU SLEEPING WITH Y/N?? IS THAT WHY HER CAR IS AROUND THE CORNER, AND YOU WON’T LET ME IN??” He tries to shush me, but I feel like I have all the evidence. I lower my voice from a yell, but I am still seething. “You know what she’s going through because she’s here! She came here after giving me my jersey back because she’s gonna wear yours! And earlier, Scotty, when you thought I didn’t notice you were listening to something?? You were listening to her upstairs, weren’t you?” With each question, I get quieter and anger turns to sadness. “Stiles, I-” I throw my hand up and take a deep breath. “Why do you do this to me? First, you make out with Lydia when you knew I liked her. And now?? Now, you’re sleeping with Y/N even though you know that I love her!”
We both pause when we hear that word come out of my mouth. I’ve never said it out loud because I’ve never even thought it before. “Stiles, I’m not sleeping with her! Those aren’t even her keys!” I shake my head as I can’t believe he’s still trying to lie. I fumble in my pocket before taking my phone out. “Oh yeah? That’s not her stuff? Her keys? Her phone?” I hit Y/N’s contact in my phone and listen to it ring. After a few seconds, the phone on the table vibrates and lets out an awful-sounding howl. I bite my lip to stop it from quivering. I feel betrayed. After hanging up the phone, I stare at Scott. He’s looking at the ground, defeated. “So, just tell me, Scott. Tell me the truth. Because you can’t say that’s not her phone when you know that’s my ringtone. I told you about that day and how it was the first time I realized that I liked her as more than a friend. I mean I probably did before that, but that’s when I knew.” A single tear slides down my cheek as I remember that day. He sighs and looks up to meet my eyes. “I am not sleeping with her. But, she is asleep upstairs. I can’t tell you why she gave the jersey back because that’s her secret to tell. But, I can tell you why she’s here. She has nowhere else to sleep tonight, Stiles.” I open my mouth slightly, not understanding why she has nowhere to go.
“But, what about her house?” Scott glances up the stairs. “Her parents were fighting when she got home. She didn’t want to cause more problems.” My heart breaks a bit as he tells me this. I always thought her parents and her were happy. "Well, Lydia would’ve-“ I begin. He turns back to me and shakes his head. "They had a fight. A big one. That’s where she was coming from when she went home.” I, too, look up the stairs as if I can see her. The thought of her fighting with her best friend broke me. I knew something was up with Lydia and Y/N when I saw her tonight. “She could’ve stayed with me?” I whisper, my voice cracking a bit. He smiles sadly at me. “That’s why she went to your house in the first place. But, ultimately, she decided to give your jersey back.” I look down because I have no idea what to say or do. “W-why wouldn’t she tell me? I would’ve let her stay with me even if she gave this back… I would’ve, I would’ve-” I search for the words of how much I care for her and how I would’ve helped her, then Scott placed his hand on my shoulder. I meet his eyes, and there’s something in them that I don’t like. “Scotty, what aren’t you telling me?” I ask quietly.
He opens and closes his mouth like he doesn’t know how to describe it to me. He finally pulls me inside, and we stand at the bottom of the stairs. “You gotta promise you’re not gonna storm up there and wake her up. She really needs to sleep. She’s so drained from today.” I look at him concernedly and then nod for him to tell me. “Stiles, when she got here..” I stare at him waiting for him to continue. “She arrived with her dog.” He says that so seriously, but I’m not getting what the big deal is so I let out a laugh. “So? She brought her dog to stay the night. We already know she loves animals. Why is that bad?” He leans against the stair railing before elaborating. “Stiles, he’s not just her pet.” He raises his eyebrows like I’m supposed to know what the hell else a friggin Y/D/B is supposed to be. “Oh my God, Scott! Stop being so dramatic and tell me!” He sighs and looks me dead in the eyes. “He’s not just her pet,” he relaxes his features into a sad expression, “he’s a support dog. Her support dog.” I look into his eyes, trying to understand what he’s telling me. “Did she tell you? Was he wearing one of those vests?” I ask confusedly. He shoves his hands in his pockets. “He wasn’t wearing a vest, but I get the sense that she doesn’t want people to know. Which also means, no, she didn’t tell me. I could tell. The way he looks at her and sticks close. He’s trained to be attentive to her.”
I grip the stair rail, reeling from this information. “So, if he’s a support dog,” I begin my conclusion slowly, “then that means that Y/N has a mental illness? But, she’s never been like this since we met!” Even as I say the words, I don’t believe them. He shakes his head like I’m missing something. “I don’t know, man. It’s not always obvious. We can only guess and assume, but we won’t know unless she wants us to.” I drop my head and rub my eyes while I think about what I can do. While I’m thinking, Scott turns his ear to upstairs again. “What are you doing? Is she awake?” Scott suddenly goes around me and up the stairs. “Stay here. I’m gonna check on something.” He tells me, but I’m already following him up the stairs. He’s not gonna keep me from making sure she’s alright. We walk quietly down the hall so we don’t wake her. As we get closer to the room, I can hear a small whining sound. Scott is in front of me so I tap him on the shoulder. “Is that her dog whining? Does that mean something bad is happening?” I whisper, but he just holds up his finger and shushes me. After peeking into the room, he stands up straight and leans against the other side of the doorway. He gestures for me to do the same. I take my place in the doorway and see what he heard. It’s Y/N. She’s the one whining. She’s on her back, and all of her limbs are slightly moving. Her head keeps twitching, and I realize she’s having a nightmare or something. Her dog is lying quietly at her feet. I don’t understand why it’s not doing its job and helping her or something. I can’t watch her like this anymore, I have to help her. But before I can move out of the doorway and over to her, Scott puts his hand on my chest to stop me. “Just watch.” He nods toward the scene unfolding with a small smile.
I look back towards the bed and see what he’s talking about. Slowly but surely, her dog lifts his head up and looks at her. After staring for a few seconds, the dog rises to his feet and walks towards her head. He stops around her middle and lays himself so that he’s right up against her stomach. Her arm brushes the dog, apparently making her aware that he’s there. Then, she just rolls over and wraps her arm around the dog gently. She’s no longer making noise, and she’s laying peacefully with her dog. I let some air out of my nose as a corner of my lip turns upwards. “Wow. That’s like… magic or something.” I whisper. “She knows how to take care of herself, Stiles,” I hear Scott say to me as I watch her sleeping soundly. I pull my eyes away from her and look at him. “I know, I know,” I sigh, rubbing the back of my neck, “but what if it gets so bad she can’t do it by herself. What if something happens that’s so bad, her dog won’t be able to help. Am I supposed to just stand by and watch her hurt? I want to be there for her. I wanna be able to help her and hold her like her friggin dog does. I love her, Scotty. And I don’t care about her illnesses, I care that she didn’t tell me so that I could tell her I love her with all of it.” I grit my teeth, and he just nods, knowing I’m not done ranting. “I don’t think this has to do with why she gave the jersey back. Which means she’s lying about something else. And I don’t know why she feels the need to, but you’re right. When she’s ready she’ll tell me, and I’ll be waiting so I can tell her that it’s okay. Whatever it is.” He claps me on the back lightly. “That’s very cool of you, dude.” I look at him and pull him into a quick but meaningful hug. “Thanks, man. This, uh, this helped a lot.” He nods and moves to walk back down the stairs.
I wait in the doorway, and Scott turns back towards me. “You coming dude? We have an early practice.” Without turning back towards him, I answer, “Yeah, man. Just give me a second.” I walk quietly into the room and kneel down next to the bed in front of her. Gently brushing the hair away from her face, I tuck it behind her ear and lean in to whisper to her. It doesn’t matter if she’s asleep, I want to say this to her out loud. “Y/N,” I whisper softly, “I’d wait forever for you to let me in. I’d wait as long as it takes for you to realize that I love you. I know you’ve got your issues. But, trust me. I have my own too. I know you don’t need me to take care of you or help you out with yours. But I want you to know that I want to take care of you. So, when you’re ready to give me your problems, I’ll take them all and tell you I am in love with you still..” After making sure that my little speech didn’t wake her, I move to get up off the floor and leave. But, in a moment of insane courage, I move to kiss her on her cheek. I place my lips sweetly on her soft skin and let the kiss linger for a few seconds. She sighs in her sleep and stirs a bit, but stays asleep. I hope she doesn’t take to long to let me in because I’m dying to kiss her for real. I leave and return to my house, unable to sleep well after all that I’ve learned tonight.
I hear voices that wake me from my deep sleep. But, I remain in a light daze as I continue to lie in bed. I’m not sure if I’m dreaming or not, but I swear Stiles is talking to me. It’s like he’s right next to me. He sounds muffled at first, but with some footsteps, his voice becomes clearer. My eyes stay closed as it’s hard to open them due to exhaustion. I feel a hand on my face and in my hair. Then he says those things to me, and I’m sure that I’m dreaming. Stiles would never say those things to me. So, I’m sure that I’m dreaming. But then, he kisses me and now I’m sure that it’s real. I’m awake, but I don’t dare open my eyes. I don’t know what I’d do or say. And so I listen to him leave, and my eyes open. I lay awake holding my dog, unable to sleep well after all that I’ve heard tonight.
“Come on Y/N,” Lydia begged. “You have to play! It won’t be the same without you. It’s your house.”
“We need your witchy voodoo powers to amp up the party games,” Malia added as she placed small candles in the living room.
“It’ll be fun,” Kira comforted, setting up the drinks.
Groaning in agreement, I helped set up the cushions and snacks along with cushions, I was about to “voodoo light” the candles when Lydia stopped me.
“Save it for the guests,” she smiled.
Grinning in response, I turned my head as I heard the doorbell ring.
Kira opened the door and was immediately embraced by Scott. Lydia by Aiden, Malia by Stiles, and Isaac- well Isaac just jumped onto the couch.
“It’s a little dim in here, don’t you think?” Lydia asked.
Smirking, I closed my eyes and motioned towards the candles as they sparked and lit up. Isaac’s face held a look of awe for a moment, just before it was washed away with a smirk.
“Who’s up for some pizza?” Malia cheered.
“I still can’t believe you broke your arm during our first track meet,” Scott muttered in disbelief.
“I have very sensitive bones,” Stiles blushed, throwing a pillow at Scott’s face.
“Bet that’s not the only thing that’s sensitive…” Aiden teased.
Laughing in unison, I looked over to Isaac who was paying attention to everything but what we were stupidly discussing.
“How about we play a game?” Lydia gasped.
We all groaned at the naivety and childishness of the idea, but agreed when told that it was senior year and we could be as stupid as we wanted to.
“Don’t think you’re safe from this Lahey. Get your ass over here,” she demanded, placing a bottle in the center of the circle.
Isaac huffed in annoyance as he sat down next to Scott.
“I guess I’ll go first,” Lydia offered. Turning the bottle, it landed on Kira. All the boys except Isaac and Scott cheered in excitement. She gently pecked Kira on the cheek receiving boos from everyone.
“You never specified,” Kira smiled while leaning into Scott’s shoulder.
“From now on,” I theorized. “You can choose between kissing them and going into the closet for 7 minutes. Deal?”
Everyone seemed to approve. Stiles took a go and it landed on Lydia. Deciding not to risk it, he went with the latter and spent 7 minutes in the closet with Lydia while we munched on pizza. Nothing rogue was going on because all you could hear upstairs was laughter.
After Aiden kissed Scott, Scott kissed Stiles, and Kira was in the closet with Malia, it was Isaac’s turn to go. He reluctantly spun the bottle and we all waited in anticipation at who would get stuck with him tonight.
It slowed down, taking it’s sweet time to point at each and every single person sitting down.
Everyone’s eyes went to me, then Isaac, waiting for him to make his decision. Standing up, he walked over to me and offered me his hand. Taking it unwillingly, we walked up the stairs and into my bedroom closet.
Sitting down on my wooden trunk, I leaned against the wall and closed my eyes, waiting for the 7 minutes to be over.
“What’s your favorite color?” he blurted out of nowhere.
“Now you decide to talk,” I muttered.
“Color,” he demanded childishly.
“Red,” I seethed.
Inching closer to me, I stood up reflexively, standing my ground.
Pressing his hands above my head, he leaned into my lips.
“I’m blue,” he smirked. “And I hate to break it to you, but I’d love to make purple.”
Chuckling at his stupid pick up line, I stared into his blue-green speckled eyes.
Closing my eyes, I felt his soft lips press into mine in a rough and desperate kiss, wrapping my body in a warm embrace.
Pulling away, I saw that his eyes were glowing gold, canines protruding. Hooking my arms around his torso, I leaned into his neck as he traced his teeth along mine.
Biting me harshly, I parted my mouth in an open sigh, letting him mark me.
Running my hands through his hair I tried to distract myself from the pain as he bit me in multiple areas.
By the time he was finished, we were both panting in the adrenaline rush we had gotten from what had just happened. Molding my lips into his once more, everywhere he touched was like a spark of electricity, only so much better.
“I think-” I gulped. “I think- we should go downstairs now…”
Smirking at my speechless nature, he kissed me one more time, sealing our bond.
We walked down to where everyone was laughing at Stiles who had somehow got 4 pillows shoved into his shirt. Props to Malia.
Isaac and I sat down next to each other, trying to make what we had just done less obvious.
“Y/N?” Aiden asked.
“Is that-” Kira continued.
“a-” Stiles retraced.
“-mark?” Scott finished.
“How many did-” Lydia exclaimed.
“Calm down there Lahey,” Malia surrendered.
Widening my eyes in shock, Isaac smiled proudly and brought me into his chest.
Description: Missing Moment - How did Stiles and Lydia get so close to one another that she had to warn him not to kiss her. Find out in this one-shot about Lydia, Stiles, and a sweater in between 5x20 and 6x01.
Stiles ran after Lydia and continued to rant about another “mythological” explanation for the disappearance of his favorite sweater. And Lydia was not having it. For the past 2 weeks, Stiles had been bothering her about the lack of supernatural occurrences. She wanted him to stop obsessing so that she could enjoy the peace and quiet, but he just continued to rant nonstop, day after day with no stopping in sight.
“Did you ever think that you just misplaced your sweater, Stiles?” Lydia asked.
“No, the first thing that came to my mind was that it was stolen by some supernatural creature,” Stiles snided. Lydia rolled her eyes. “Of course, I checked every corner of my room, the bathroom, and my dad’s room. It’s nowhere to be found which can only mean one thing. Someone stole it so that they could use it against me someway.”
Lydia couldn’t believe what she was hearing, there was no way
you’d broken up with your boyfriend and told Aiden of all people instead of
her. She shook her head and refused to believe the twin who sighed.
“Maybe this is why she told me.” Aiden hummed.
“We talk about everything there’s a better reason for her
not telling me this.” Lydia snapped, fleeing the room in search of you as soon
as the bell rang.
She caught up with you and you hurried away only to bump
into Kira who grabbed your arm and started talking to you. Lydia drilled you
about why you hadn’t said anything as Kira watched, focusing on the Goosebumps
Lydia’s grip had caused to roll up your arms.
“We’ll take you out… Kira was planning on coming to mine to
catch up anyway so we’ll spend a few hours at a party or something and then we’ll
head back and you can stay at mine.” Lydia insisted.
All right, as promised, here’s the full text of this ficlet. Happy Friday!
Void exits Stiles’ body and leaves an empty hole in the middle of his chest. He can feel it in the days and weeks after, cold and hollow as he sits in class, eats dinner with his dad, smiles for Scott. Scott’s not fooled by Stiles’ smiles - Stiles hasn’t been able to fool him since he was eight and his mom was admitted to the hospital for the first time - but he doesn’t say anything. He just stays close, all the time - in class, at the house, when everyone’s hanging out at Derek’s loft. Everyone stays close; Stiles doesn’t have to say anything. They all seem to know anyway.
He’s always cold now. He wears a t-shirt and a button-up and a hoodie at minimum, sometimes two hoodies if it’s overcast. They’re all new clothes; Void tainted everything he touched. Scott wrinkled his nose at Stiles the day before Allison’s funeral, and Lydia dragged him to the mall the day after. His sheets are new too, his blankets and comforter. The only thing he refuses to let go of is the thick blanket his mom crocheted while she was pregnant with him; he washes it once a day and figures the smell of the nogitsune will go away eventually if he just keeps on using it. Scott still wrinkles his nose, but it’s more of a joke now than anything.
Stiles still has nightmares. If anything, they’re worse than they were before Void took hold of his body because he knows now - knows what it feels like to stab his best friend in the stomach, knows the sound of people in pain, knows the look of horror on his dad’s face. He still wakes up screaming, still wakes to his dad’s arms around him, holding him down. If his new sheets didn’t smell like him, they do now, soaked through with his sweat. He doesn’t tell Scott about the nightmares, either, but Scott knows. The first night he wakes up on his own, through some miracle, not by a nightmare, he finds Scott sleeping on the floor next to his bed and Stiles stares down at him for a long time. He doesn’t dream that night, though - or if he does, he doesn’t remember it.
The next time, it’s Derek; Stiles wakes up to find him standing by the window, sharp features washed silver in the weak light of the half moon. He watches Stiles silently, and Stiles stares back at him for a long moment before he flips onto his side and falls back asleep. It doesn’t bother him. It might have, once upon a time, but mostly it just fills him with comfort, knowing his friends are trying to take care of him. The next time he catches Scott sleeping on the floor, he leans over the side of the bed and pokes at Scott until he wakes up.
Liam accidentally walks in on stiles and Lydia in the janitor closet (he thought they were locked in there) and is traumatized. After they beg him not to tell anyone because it’s still new, and they don’t want to hurt Malia and all he agrees to keep their secret. Only Liam soon finds out he’s no good in keeping secrets and ends up blurting ‘Stiles and Lydia are doing it!’ to everyone he talks to, even if it’s completely out of context.
Genre: Romance, Smut, Comedy, Established Relationship
I am sorry for a delay between chapters, but this one fought me tooth and nail. It’s dialogue-heavy and I always struggle with writing dialogues, so I hope it turned out alright. Ugh.
But we get Alec’s backstory. So yay?
Also, how the heck could I ever think I would be able to close this fic in three chapters? This was supposed to be a short story and it slowly turns out to be even longer than my Game of thrones AU, FFS.
The drive back
to Alec’s home was quiet. Magnus got them a cab, since neither of them were in
the mood for dealing with Friday afternoon subway rush. Thankfully, it wasn’t
an uncomfortable silence and Alec dozed off during the ride, his head resting
on Magnus’ shoulder.
entered the apartment, Alec just sort of stood there, unsure what to do. He
looked lost and seeing him like that broke Magnus’ heart.
“Do you want
some tea?” Alec finally asked, placing his keys in the basket near the living
room door. His movements seemed calculated, like he was trying to spend as
little energy on moving as possible.
“I’ll do it.”
Magnus placed a hand over the small of Alec’s back and gently pushed him
towards the sofa. “You look just about ready to keel over. Sit down before you
The family goes into lockdown mode once Lydia has recovered because they still don’t know who the werewolf is or what their endgame is. No one, especially Lydia and Allison, is allowed to leave their family grounds alone. And after the huge scare that Allison and Stiles had in the woods, they are for once very eager to listen to their dad.
Things with Stiles and Lydia have been odd ever since Allison interrupted a moment between them, and while it’s better than it had been before, there’s definitely an undertone of awkwardness. Malia can tell something is up with Stiles, though he refuses to say what. But she’s not dumb, and the intimacy of Stiles putting his hand on the small of Lydia’s back as she gets into the car to go home after school one day doesn’t escape her.
Malia finds herself at Stiles’ front door that night, unable to shake the thought of his hand on Lydia’s back. Not that it’s something that wounds her endlessly, because she knew going into it that their relationship had a shelf life, but she had never wanted to be a wall between two people.
Which is exactly what she tells Stiles as she stands in his bedroom and breaks up with him.
“By the way… I like Lydia.” Malia shrugs. “And I think you two will be really great together.” She pauses, smirking slightly as he gapes at her. “See you at school.”
“See you at… school?”
In the morning, when Allison asks why Malia left so quickly, Stiles says it’s because she needed a jacket she left behind. Allison doesn’t believe him, but she’s come to trust that most of his lies are to protect her. And, for a while, nothing really seems off. Stiles still eats lunch with Malia, and talks to her between classes, and no one knows that pretty much all of their conversations end with Malia asking why he isn’t sitting with Lydia instead.
“Because I’m not sure if she want me to,” Stiles says.
It’s been his excuse for everything for years, through middle school and now high school, because he has never been good at telling where he stands with Lydia Martin. And her being one of his best friends hasn’t really ended up changing that much.
“You’re really not as smart as you think you are,” Malia points out bluntly.
“Yeah, I keep hearing that,” Stiles says wryly.
The thing is, Lydia and Allison have pretty much been stuck to each other’s sides since the accident happened. So when Stiles finally feels like he’s so desperate to talk to her it might choke him, he doesn’t have the chance.
He’s being cock blocked by his stupid sister.
He decides to go about this the blunt way, because he is a hunter, goddamn it.
“I think Lydia might have very heavily implied that she has a thing for me,” he says to Allison while they’re driving to school one day. From the passenger’s seat, Allison looks over at him with one eyebrow arched high on her forehead.
“Oh, you don’t say?”
“Is that… a confirmation?”
“You know, for a guy who’s about to get the girl he’s wanted since he was a little kid, you look less excited and more like you’re about to lose your breakfast.”
“Oh my god. Lydia likes me?”
“Lydia’s in love with you. And now that you’re broken up with Malia—”
“I tapped your phone while you were in the shower.”
“You’re undoing that.”
“Eh. Probably not.”
“As I was saying, now that you and Malia are broken up, you can finally stop hurting my best friend. Which, I have to say, I am seriously looking forward to.”
“I was hurting her?”
Allison sighs heavily.
“Is anyone a bigger idiot than you?”
“Rumor has it that nobody, in fact, is.”
“Talk to her before first period.”
“Wait, maybe I should—”
“You’re marrying the girl, there’s time for grand gestures later. Just tell her that you and Malia broke up,” Allison instructs. Her eyes soften as Stiles pulls into a parking spot and turns off the car. “That’s going to be enough, Stiles. I promise.”
He nods, already feeling shaky with nerves and anticipation and hope.
Stiles finds Lydia standing at her locker, fingers flying across her phone screen.
“Hey,” says Stiles meekly.
“Hi,” Lydia replies without looking up. He stares at her for a second. “Um, I have to—”
He cuts off, vigor renewed at seeing how beautiful she looks in the light of the early morning.
“No. I have to.”
“What?” Lydia frowns.
“I have to tell you something.”
Lydia sets her phone gently on the bottom shelf of her locker, then turns to him.
Stiles’ eyes dart to the side.
“Uh… would you like my coffee?” he asks, dodging the question.
“With all the crap you put into it?” Lydia laughs through her nose. “No thanks. I could just eat twelve cheesecakes instead and digest the same amount of—”
“Malia and I broke up,” Stiles says, cutting her off.
Lydia stops talking instantly.
“I’m… um, you did?”
“Because of you,” he tells her, and now his heart is thumping wildly in his chest.
“Because she figured out that I’m in love with you. And she told me that… that maybe it would be better for everyone if I stopped pretending I wasn’t.”
Lydia’s eyes dart around until they land on a janitor’s closet. She yanks Stiles’ coffee mug out of his hand, puts it in her locker, slams the door shut, and picks the lock on the janitor’s closet in record them. Then she tugs him in, slamming the door shut behind them.
“Thank god,” she says flatly, before rising on her tiptoes and kissing him hard.
He responds with the exact kind of enthusiasm that one might expect from someone who is kissing a girl who he has wanted for roughly a decade, but there’s this sense of delicacy and adoration to the verve that steals Lydia’s breath.
She’s never quite been kissed like this.
She grabs his hands and puts them in a far less gentlemanly place, then backs him up against the closet wall. Lydia is completely prepared to let him have his way with her standing next to a mop when the bell rings, and Stiles instinctively pulls back, looking so thoroughly kissed that Lydia almost wants to laugh at the fact that her mouth had wrecked him like that.
“We better go to class,” he says, not sounding like he believes his own words.
“Right,” agrees Lydia, fixing tugging his flannel back over his shoulders. “Of course.”
“Yeah,” Stiles says, starting to grin giddily as he reaches for the door handle.
“Or—” Lydia starts, and Stiles pauses. “We can skip school and make out instead.”
Stiles pauses for a moment, considering.
“I like that one,” he decides.
“Same,” Lydia admits breathlessly.
He drops his bag to the ground, pins her back against the wall, and goes back to doing the thing that he will spend his lifetime getting to do.
Description: If it were up to her, she would skip orientation completely. She’s done with trying to climb the social ladder. College is a completely different game to high school. No, the agenda for the next few years mostly consists of taking the most challenging courses she can, graduating as early as possible and going straight on to earn her PhD in theoretical mathematics before eventually winning the Fields Medal for her accomplishments. That’s the plan.
Stiles didn’t even know how he was talked into this party in the first place. Oh wait, yes he did. Lydia came up to him and gave him that ‘Don’t argue with me’ look and said he was coming. Granted, he liked the fact that it was a smaller part, I.E. the whole school wasn’t invited, but still he had a over half the people here would be drunk by the end of the night.
The other half couldn’t get drunk, because they were werewolves. Oh yeah, Lydia invited them too. Even Derek, which was weird because Stiles didn’t even expect him to show up! But there he was, brooding in the corner as they got ready to play seven minutes in heaven. And, just his luck, his name was called first.
“And Stiles is going into the closet with…” Lydia said, digging her hand into the jar with the list of names in it. Pulling one out, she read it and announced, “Derek!”