hi i am thinking of you right now i'm so sorry this is happening to you and the people where you live. my heart is with you and anything i can do to help you please let me know.
Thank you so much 💛 honestly not processing much right now but this message means so much to me. I just finished cleaning up my house a little while ago and got rid of all the glass, but I know I lucked out. My sister’s house got the windows and glass doors shattered too, my best friend fell down and cut her leg open when a glass door fell on her, and I still know we all lucked out. Some people have lost so much more, there are so many people still missing, the people on the ground have a long night ahead of them... I really don’t know how anyone here is going to recover from it. Just keep spreading the word and letting people know what’s going on so they can donate/help in any way they can. Thank you so much for this 💛
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Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
i hope you enjoy this gift, despite the late nature of it. i picked your name up as an extra valentine, but i also very much so enjoyed writing this. :)
xoxo, your friendly neighborhood stand in secret valentine
@bansheemrtin || kayla
somewhere along the way
summary: lydia martin wasn’t normally one to drink away her feelings, but maybe after meeting a certain stiles stilinski on an off chance, she may just be able to stop feeling so alone - college au
wc: 1236
a/n: character death mentioned
Lydia Martin was wasted. And not just a little bit. She had downed two more shots than her usual limit, as well as three beers and a vodka soda, and she was stumbling around the mansion of a frat house. She was barefoot, her heels abandoned in some room, although she wasn’t sure of where they were exactly.
She was too drunk to care.
Normally, Lydia was more responsible than this. Usually she contained herself to one or two drinks, just to make sure she stayed in control. But after her boyfriend Aiden’s untimely death, she’d found herself drinking herself into oblivion on more occasions than one. Her best friend Allison had dragged her out to a party every now and then, but Lydia usually didn’t feel up to it. Every now and then, she found herself giving in and going, but feeling more like a third wheel than anything around Allison and her boyfriend Scott. So she spent the party wandering, drinking, trying to feel a little better.
It never really worked.
So she drank a little more, and a little more, until she had consumed so much alcohol that she couldn’t take any more less she wanted to vomit.
It wasn’t a surprise when she stumbled over herself, landing face first into a boy she didn’t immediately recognize sitting on the couch. It also wasn’t a surprise that, being the klutz she was, landed right on top of his dick.
“Shit!” she shouted, pulling herself up and off of the guy, sobering up pretty quickly as she took a seat on the couch, leaving about a foot between them. “Oh my god I am so sorry,” Lydia said, looking up at the brunette whom she had just landed on. His face was red, his wide eyes a beautiful hazel brown, mouth agape, staring at her.
“I… uh.. no, no, it’s… it’s totally… totally fine,” he stuttered, obviously caught off guard. “Totally… completely fine.” Slowly, his eyes caught hers, locking with them gently. “Stiles,” he said quietly, holding out his hand for her to take.
“Lydia,” she responded, still bright red, but her smile was gentle. “I’m really sorry I…” she trailed off, not really wanting to repeat what had happened. She took his hand, immediately realizing the bony feel to it, the veins that ran up and down his knuckles. She noticed his freckles and moles next. The splatter across his cheek. It was gentle, as if it was just the simple detail that made him easily remembered.
“No, really… don’t worry about it,” he said, taking a breath, seemingly the first one he had taken since they had stated talking. Lydia felt herself smile gently. “So… what brings you here?” Stiles asked.
“I don’t know… my friend dragged me here, promised we’d have a good time, but, like always, she ditched me for her boyfriend.“
"Funny,” Stiles chuckled, “Scott ditched me for his girlfriend.”
“Scott McCall?” Lydia asked.
“I’m assuming your friend is the Allison Argent that he talks about all the time?” he replied.
“That’d be her… They drag us here with promises of fun and happy memories,” Lydia started.
“Ones to erase the pain…” he added. Lydia realized what he said, noting the fragility in his tone. He was broken, too.
“Nothing ever works… But I think this might be the closest I’ve come in a long time,” she whispered.
“I couldn’t agree with you more,” he admitted.
Lydia didn’t know when it happened, but at some point in their conversation, the two found themselves inching closer and closer together, and all of a sudden the foot of space between them had been narrowed down to a few inches, centimetres even, before she took a breath, leaned in. The alcohol in her system was driving her, and she wasn’t quite sure what she was doing herself, but soon, their lips had touched, gentle at first, before Lydia and Stiles pulled away.
“Do you think you maybe want to help me forget some more?” she asked, eyes sad and soft, laced with a gentle desperation.
“Yeah… I think I would.”
Their night was bliss, a splattering of aggression, teeth on lips and tongue before they finally succumbed to their desires and slowly, gently, they worked their way into a pattern, a rhythm of sorts. He took off her shirt, trailing kisses down her exposed spine as she played with his hair. He seemed to know everything she wanted, and how to do it right, made her feel better than she ever had before. It was like they were made for each other.
Only in the dim light of Stiles’ bedroom did they share their secrets. That Lydia’s boyfriend had died, that Stiles’ girlfriend had broken up with him after he had become distant because of some past demons haunting him. They shared whispers like they were best friends and not two strangers passing in the night.
They tried to pretend that it was no big deal. Their friends were dating and they would see each other every now and again, but it was a pull that was too strong for either of them to resist. Soon there were stolen kisses on the way to the bathroom , sneaking around, hiding in closets because it wasn’t going to be this way forever.
Every time they whispered to each other that it would be the last, and every time, it happened again.
And somewhere along the way, Stiles fell head over heels in love with Lydia Martin. With her strawberry blonde head of hair that just reached the height of 5'3”, or her green eyes and left handed penmanship. Everything about her was perfection in his eyes. She was intelligent, someone who was willing to banter back and forth with him. Hell, she’d even watched Star Wars with him. But she was more than just his friend. She was his partner in crime, his other half, a tether keeping him grounded.
Little did he know that he was the same for her. His smile kept her from falling apart and his laugh made her heart melt. His lips were soft and sweet, tasted like buttercream every time she touched them.
But neither of them would admit it.
At least, not right away.
They spent two more months stealing kisses behind closed doors and glances at parties. It was only when Scott and Allison noticed their distraught behaviour when the other wasn’t around that they finally brought it to the attention of the strawberry blonde beauty and the sarcastic brunette.
“What is this?” Lydia asked, looking up at Stiles, with whom she was cuddling with on the couch, The Empire Strikes Back shoved haphazardly in the DVD player.
“What’s what?” Stiles asked, caught off guard with her question.
“Us,” she responded blatantly. “What are we?”
“Well, what do you want us to be?” he asked, looking at her, searching for the answer in her eyes. Lydia didn’t miss a beat, responding immediately.
“More than this,” she admitted.
Their lips crashed together like waves, a mixture of gentleness and passion before Stiles began to lean into Lydia, soon finding themselves totally horizontal on the couch before they decided that a bed may be a bit more comfortable. They made their way into Stiles’ room, speaking in whispers of sweet nothings and one simple phrase that they began repeating to each other.
