Lydia Martin took a deep breath, inhaling as she tried to remember exactly why she had agreed to this nearly two weeks ago. Her friends at the university informed her that she never stopped talking about Stiles and the kiss that they had shared. Lydia had watched him move on to bigger and better things and nothing else in her life had been more gut wrenching, but it seemed as though a part of her was missing the moment that he left. He was the one person who could get through to her no matter the situation.Â
After much encouragement from her friends to put a posting in the Beacon Hills newspaper, she tried again and again to have the most perfect words. She erased and deleted them several times, as she was a perfectionist. The title of the post was “Who Is Stiles Stilinski To Me?’ it had taken her what seemed like days to make the post as perfect as possible, dotting every i and crossing every single t. And when it was finished, she asked Theo to ask Scott to send Stiles a copy in the mail.Â
“Who is Stiles Stilinski To Me?’
“When I first met him, he was an annoyance. You know in a way, one of those hyper spastic kids with ADHD. The kind that always gets in trouble with the teachers and never focuses. But as time went on, I realized that even thought I was fighting it. Stiles isn’t an annoyance, he’s one of my very best friends. He is the reason why I never gave up when being told things weren’t going to work out. Just one sarcastic smile from him and no matter what I went through everything in the world was right. Stiles is the voice in the wind that lifts me up when I feel down, and Stiles is my favorite memory of high school. When I think that to Beacon Hills High and when I was happiest, his face pops right into my mind as a distant memory. Stiles might not be everything to everyone, but he is my world. And I miss him more than I ever imagined I would. They say that the truth sets you free, and this article is the ONLY way I’m going to let him know the truth. Stiles is absolute hyperactive dorky perfection and I feel like nothing without him.Â
Lydia had submitted in three nights ago, and so far Stiles had not contacted her. Not as though she wanted him to either, this was supposed to be something secret. But the moment that she wondered if he had even read it, she looked at her phone and saw Scott calling. It was then that she knew she had been found out and that Stiles would be calling soon. She would have to fess up to it that much was for sure. But how would he truly respond? For once in her life, Lydia Martin was in the vulnerable position and Stiles was not. Biting her lip, she waited for his call.Â
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A/N: I started writing this when I was in the middle of my second year of university. The struggles that Lydia is going through in this fic was essentially what I was facing at the time - deadline after deadline, and no motivation to do the work. Obviously my only way to cope with the overwhelming work load was to procrastinate by writing about the overwhelming work load, hence this was born. I became too busy with uni however, and didn’t actually get round to finishing it until now, 9 months later, where I’m now procrastinating my final year work load. I hope you enjoy it!
Also, if you want to read my other Stydia fic which is set after 6A, feel free to do so here :)
Summary: Lydia is having a hard time keeping up with the demands of her college course. Naturally, her worries are calmed when her supportive boyfriend Stiles shows up to look after her.
Warnings: University life, stress, me portraying how much I need a Stiles in my life through this fic.
Words: 2479
It had been a long week.
The college life wasn’t easy for any student, and Lydia Martin wasn’t exempt from that. Despite having an IQ higher than 170 and being one of the smartest girls of her generation, Lydia wasn’t coping well with the stressors that currently consumed her. She had 3 assignments due in soon, 2 of which involved her carrying out entire experiments. That wasn’t all either. She was worried about Kira, not having heard from her since she went back to the skinwalkers more than a year ago, and she was starting to miss Beacon Hills. No matter how much she adored her housemates, dealing with filthy communal areas and loud noises at stupid times weren’t what Lydia would call ideal.
It’s funny, dealing with the supernatural felt easier than this.
She was currently sitting on the magnolia couch in the living room of her student house, attempting to concentrate. Her legs were crossed on the sofa, laptop placed on top of her, an organised mess of papers flourishing around her. A blank word document was open in front of her, the black cursor daring Lydia to make the first move to just write something, damn it. The girl who would once rise to any challenge was defeated however, and backed down with a sigh. She kept her laptop in place, but pushed her head back, hoping to find some inspiration for her work from the patterns on her ceiling. She ran the fingers of her left hand through her strawberry blonde hair. What was usually combed to perfection was now unruly and greasy, splayed out for miles it seemed. She was in dire need of a shower and a haircut, but time never seemed to be on her side for either of those things these days. Her 15 year old self would cringe at the sight of her now. She counterbalanced that last thought with the understanding that her problems back then were minimal in comparison to now. This lead Lydia to question why she was arguing with herself in the first place. It wasn’t productive or useful; if anything she was just procrastinating.
When did her life turn into this?
She huffed once more and glanced down to a blank screen, indicating that she spent more time zoning out than actually working. She woke up her laptop hastily, refusing to notice the hideous sight of her reflection on the screen. Her barely comprehensible thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the front door unlocking.
Even though Lydia couldn’t concentrate, she hoped that whoever had just entered wouldn’t try to distract her. Moving away from her laptop to do anything else would be the worst decision right now. It was one thing to try and work but get nowhere; it was another to avoid the task all together. Her moment of worry ceased when she heard the sound of unique footsteps coming through the hallway. Lydia was comforted by the rhythm of footsteps that she had grown so accustomed to hearing. They were loud, but not harsh, heavy but not threatening. A warmth spread through the girl when the footsteps increased in volume, the special heat spreading through her once his figure came into her line of sight. She watched him for a second, noticing that he hadn’t yet seen her, probably expecting her to be in her bedroom. Before he got too far past the living room door, Lydia started to speak up, notifying him of her whereabouts.
“Looking for me?”
Stiles flailed at the unexpected voice, in a way that was so uniquely Stiles. Lydia was convinced that her boyfriend could have all the training in the world instilled into him by the FBI, CIA and the NSA: that still wouldn’t stop him from being so... expressive in his reactions. She laughed at his behaviour, loving that he could make her happy even during her most stressful times.
“Lyds, you gotta give a guy some warning before you do that. You scared the crap out of me!” His tone was displeased, almost hostile, but his smile gave him away. Lydia smiled back and moved some of the mess around her to make space for Stiles. The brunette walked towards his girlfriend, closing the gap between the two of them. He swiftly kissed his girlfriend’s forehead, moving to sit to her left straight after.
“Well, you didn’t tell me you were coming over, so shouldn’t I be the one getting a warning?” Lydia gave an inquiring look towards Stiles, the accusation just an excuse to admire his moles up close. The agent in training simply shook his head, smiling softly to himself before speaking gently. “Where’s your phone, Lydia?”
The question startled the strawberry blonde a little, making her wonder why she hadn’t heard it ring in a while. She may not have the same mindset as her 15 year old self, but she was still just as popular as back then. Rummaging through the physical manifestation of her thoughts, her search through the stack of papers came up empty. Furrowing her brows, she turned back to Stiles, answering his question softly. “I must have left it upstairs, why? Is something wrong?”
Stiles shook his head, mentally scolding himself for always thinking the worst. When he had asked his girlfriend if he could come over nearly an hour ago, he was expecting her to reply quickly like she usually does. He hadn’t seen her in a few days due to FBI training, and she never takes long to answer his calls or texts. When she hadn’t answered however, his mind created the worst scenarios that she could possibly be in, supernatural or otherwise. It was that thought process that made him decide to show up at her house anyway. It was clear that everything they’d gone through together still impacted Stiles, despite leaving that life behind in high school two years ago. He was guessing that if Lydia was concerned over not seeing one text, she was impacted in the same way.
Stiles sighed, trying not to dwell on the events that once consumed his life. Answering Lydia’s question, he replied “Don’t worry, nothing’s wrong. I just messaged you to see if you’re home so I could come over, and, well, you didn’t answer... so I came over anyway.”
His explanation was logical, but Lydia could clearly sense that Stiles was nervous. His speech was laced with hesitation, and while she was used to her boyfriend speaking with his entire body, Lydia also noticed that Stiles’ hand gestures were more rapid than usual. Picking up on his nonverbal cues, she decided to press him further. Leaving her right hand on her laptop to keep it steady, she reached out for his forearm with her left hand, playing with the hair poking out of his white shirt sleeve gently. With a head tilt and a playful smile on her lips, she spoke softly. “Not that I don’t love you being around and making the effort to see me, but is there a particular reason as to why you’re here?”
Her tone was curious, inquisitive even, but Stiles knew from the way her eyes pierced his soul that she’d be able to tell if he hid anything. He wasn’t even ashamed at his reason for turning up to his girlfriends house. He was however worried that she wouldn’t want him there. They may have been dating for a couple of years by now, and he’d never admit to this if anyone asked, but Lydia still scared Stiles at times. This was especially true when it came to her education, since she usually wanted to be left alone until she was done with an assignment. Having dealt with his own struggles through his last few years at college, he didn’t blame his girlfriend for her tendency to snap at those closest to her during times of stress. He just didn’t want to be on the receiving end of it today.
He started playing back with the hand that was on his arm, interlinking their fingers while he replied. “It’s just that I missed you, and I know you’re gonna say that it’s only been a few days since we saw each other last, but I’m stressed and exhausted, Lyds, I know you are too. So my last seminar for the day was cancelled and the first thing I thought of doing with my free hour was checking up on you. I know you’re trying to work though and you prefer to be alone, so I can leave if you want me to.” Stiles glanced down at their linked hands, worried that Lydia would instruct him to do just that. The strawberry blonde was smitten though; if her heart was beating any louder then Scott would be able to hear it from across the country in Beacon Hills. She understood why he was nervous now, but she would never distance herself from him on purpose, especially after the wild hunt. She lifted their still linked hands up closer to her, then kissed her boyfriends hand softly. There was a bruise surrounding the knuckle on his middle finger, and she remembered his animated story of how this weeks combat training was rough. She kissed around the rough spot once more, then glanced up at her boyfriend, a tiny smile etched onto his face from her actions.
“Stiles, you’re so sweet. If it was anyone else who had come to see me I would have asked exactly that, but not you. Never you.” Lydia couldn’t help the smile that formed on her face as she looked at Stiles. She would always appreciate the way he treated her, and she wanted him to know how much she cared for him in return. Breaking their eye contact, Lydia noticed the carrier bag at her boyfriends feet. “What’s in the bag? Is that your way of checking up on me?” She asked, squeezing his hand as she did so.
Stiles glanced down, remembering the items he’d bought before driving over to Lydia’s place. “Yeah I guess… well I just kind of assumed, you know, based on your previous habits around assignment deadlines, that eating isn’t a high priority of yours right now, so you probably haven’t eaten anything in a while.” Now that the thought had crossed her mind, Lydia couldn’t recall when her last meal was, or even the last time she had a snack. This coincidentally led her stomach to growl ferociously, making Stiles chuckle before he continued on. “That’s exactly why I thought I could make something for you.” His eyes were wide, excitement coursing through his veins as he explained his little plan.
That was another thing Lydia loved about the young man sitting next to her. He was full of ideas. No matter how terrible they could be sometimes, his enthusiasm towards them made the possible frustration of following through with them well worth it.
“You do realise that making beans on toast doesn’t count as cooking, right?” Stiles rolled his eyes at Lydia’s quip, not even denying the fact that his skills in the kitchen were poor. “Yes, thanks for that, I’m well aware. Luckily for you though I thought we could have something a bit more edible that even I can’t mess up.” Releasing his hand from Lydia’s, Stiles reached into the plastic bag, bringing out a thin, square cardboard box. “What better way is there to de-stress than spending time with your boyfriend eating oven pizza?”
Lydia laughed once she saw the packaging, partially because of how much her boyfriend struggled to pull it out of the box, but also because of the way he was wiggling his eyebrows at his idea. “Well who am i to argue with that?” She paused, still smiling but she chose to speak in a more serious tone. “Seriously though, thank you. I don’t just mean for the food but the fact that you wanted to check on me with your spare time, and that you knew what kind of state I’d be in but you came anyway. It means a lot to me, more than I can put into words. I love you.” She reached up and kissed Stiles’ cheek before sitting back and continuing on. “Besides, I could probably do with some pizza and company from you, considering I’m not making any headway so far with this.” She pointed to her laptop as she finished her sentence, the black screen emphasising her lack of progress with the assignment due at the end of next week. Lydia sighed, rolling her eyes at how she couldn’t get away from her reflection this time.
Before her thoughts could manifest into self-hatred over how she looked and felt in general, Stiles held her hand once more. He was always pulling her back from the darkness without even realising it. She turned to him as he began speaking softly to her, maintaining eye contact throughout. “First of all, I love you too, you don’t need to thank me, I’m always going to look out for you, and I know you’d do the same for me. Secondly, how about you take a break for a while. I know that’s probably the last thing you feel like doing, especially if you haven’t done much work, but maybe it will help. I can put this pizza in the oven and some popcorn in the microwave, and then we can talk through what you’re struggling with while we eat and maybe watch something. How does that sound?”
It’s funny, Lydia thought. Back in high school she was the one to constantly render Stiles speechless. At some point during their relationship however, the tables had turned. Now Lydia was the one who was at a loss for words, just from little, effortless things that Stiles says and does. It was something which she hadn’t experienced with her previous boyfriends, and she was once again reminded of how much she appreciated him. With a bright smile and a nod of her head, she replied back with “that sounds great. We’re not watching Star Wars, though.” She laughed at his groan and little pout, knowing that he wasn’t seriously upset over her lack of interest in the franchise.
Lydia knew that she’d basically just agreed to being distracted from her work, something she didn’t want to happen in the first place. In that moment however, she couldn’t care less, because she was with Stiles, and he made her happy. He’d go through her assignments with her eventually, and together they’d sort through what was being asked of her, until she was no longer wound up by the tasks. Until then, she didn’t mind spending some quality time with the person who was essentially her anchor. Maybe avoiding her work for a little longer wouldn’t be that bad after all.
Author: Artemis🌺
Word Count: 644
Requested: No.
The sun is setting, Lydia notes absentmindedly.
The sun is setting, with the deep blue of the black night sky coating the top most parts of the horizon. In fact, the sun is almost gone, but there is a glowing haze covering everyone’s faces as if it was still golden hour.
No, she smiles loosely, for golden hour they spent taking photos and laughing, and laughing, and laughing. Then again, that was how the whole day had been spent. With salt water and sand, with cold soft drink and the warmth of the sun to keep their little pack company.
Even now, as Lydia’s friends gathered their things to head to a barbecue, where there was sure to be hot dogs and a chlorinated pool to float in, she couldn’t help but linger on the evidence of their little niche at the beach.
There were indents in the sand where everyone had put their stuff, trenches dug so they could chuck sand balls at each other, and sandcastles in varying stages of decay. Soon the ocean would sweep it all away, creating a blank canvas for the next group of beach goers to make their own.
Lydia lay her head down on the opened window of Stiles’ jeep, peering out at it all. She relished the feeling of cool metal against her undoubtedly sunburned skin. She tried not to think about the countless freckles that would materialise due to this day alone.
Suddenly the feeling of a cold can pressed against her face, wet with condensation. Lydia barely restrained a groan at the pleasant feeling, merely peeling her eyes up to find a grinning Stiles, his own fair share of pale skin hued a peachy pink.
His eyes softened when she looked up at him, and the burn already on her face deepened with her blush at his look. His ochre eyes were filled with a gentle caress, a twinkling fondness, and while Lydia knew this day would be memorable, she also knew that so would the way he looked at her, like she was the night sky littered with all the stars he’d never seen before.
“Close your eyes,” he said, voice gravelly. She did so, feeling the dewy condensation of the drink leave, replaced with a gentle, lingering kiss on her rose-y cheek. His lips were nice and dry compared to the numbness left by the coldness of the drink, and it brought all feeling back to her cheek.
He pulled away slowly, and she kept her eyes closed with a content smile, leaning back against the opened window. Stiles touched her jaw gently, slipping his fingers away and placing another lingering kiss onto her sea salt dried hair.
The night air filled with the gentle background noise of her friends chattering away, laughing and filled with warmth. Lydia felt her heart fill with the love surrounding her, letting herself bask in this simple serendipity.
Soon, everything would be packed away, and the cars would be rumbling and filled with banter and boisterousness, on the way to their next destination, where she knew she would fool around in the pool, pretending to scold Stiles when he would undoubtedly cop a feel.
She knew she would put her feet up and dig into food that didn’t taste faintly of sand, where she would observe the bonds around her, smiling in particular fondness at Stiles and Scott’s antics. She knew she would dance with Stiles, and that when it was time for home, all of their friends would squish together in one car (which was almost impossible and definitely illegal) just to make sure she got home safely.
And to croon at her and Stiles saying goodnight to each other. But that was besides the point.
So Lydia kept her eyes closed and smiled. She never thought she’d love summer quite this much.
Description: Lydia doesn’t say I love you to Stiles right away under the impression he knows, and I mean, he does, but that doesn’t mean she shouldn’t say it.Â
Word count: 297
Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to Teen Wolf or it’s characters. :)
Nine months. They’ve been dating for nine months and Lydia still hasn’t actually said those three words.
Stiles knows already, she thinks, so she doesn’t need to say it.
But then it’s the night before Valentine’s day and she, Scott, and Malia are visiting Stiles in Virginia and he leaves to go to to his evening lecture. Just as he’s about to leave his dorm he kisses an “I love you” sweetly against her temple, and she doesn’t say it back.
Then, he’s out the door and Lydia turns to see Malia and Scott looking at her with wide eyes.
“You didn’t say it back,” Scott says, his mouth hung open.
“He knows,” she answers in a defensive tone.
Malia cocks her head to one side as if to say “But does he really know or did he just tell you he knows because he doesn’t want to force the words from your mouth?”
                         ⇺⇺⇺⇹⇻⇻⇻
Lydia’s barefeet pad through the carpeted hallway at a million miles a minute until they catch up with Stiles. She grabs his shoulder and pulls him to her, turning him in the process and plants her lips between his open mouth.
A whiny sound escapes Stiles’ chest when she pulls away. “I love you,” she says breathlessly with her forehead pressed against his and her lips swollen on his. “I love you, I love you, I love you,” she repeats and Stiles chuckles, pulling away to get a better look at his girlfriend.
He smiles that lopsided grin at her and presses it to her forehead, “I love you too, Lydia,” he laughs.
She smiles at him with her just her eyes and then he’s going into the lecture hall, and she’s left standing there feeling like she’s floating on cloud nine.
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Stydia! As requested by Anon (I hope you enjoy)! I like the idea of fluffy Stydia so I made them being all cute and snugly on Stiles’ bedÂ
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Summary: Since he had returned she hadn’t left his side. Their hands clasped together from the moment she saw him again. But in the rush of Stiles’ return, and all of their memories coming back as well, everyone had seemed to forget something. Something pretty important.
Notes: It’s actually been years since I’ve posted a fic so hopefully you all like this!
Read on ao3 if you wanna :)
They had gotten him back.
After a vicious fight against the Ghost Riders and figuring out how to get Stiles through the rift, they had finally gotten him back. It wasn’t easy and none of them had come out unharmed, but he was back. Stiles was back. With his dad, his best friends, and with his Lydia, and that was what mattered.
Since he had returned she hadn’t left his side. Their hands clasped together from the moment she saw him again. But in the rush of Stiles’ return, and all of their memories coming back as well, everyone had seemed to forget something. Something pretty important.
It only came to Lydia a few weeks later as she was wrapped in his arms watching a movie. It was random really, one of those thoughts you have for no absolute reason, it just kinda happened.
Her eyes go wide and a huge smile appears on her lips. “Mieczyslaw.” She says, and Stiles instantly tenses.
“What was that?” He asks, still looking straight forward.
“Mieczyslaw,” She repeats, sitting up. “your name! How could I have forgotten that?”
“I’m…um pretty sure you didn't know that before you lost all memories of me.”
Lydia shakes her head. “No no, your dad told us! The night he remembered you he came to Scotts house and he said it and I swear I thought he was speaking gibberish but-“
“Oh my god, I'm going to kill him.” Stiles groans, burying his face in a pillow. Lydia giggles pokes at his side.
“Oh come on it’s not that bad!”
“Yes it is! It makes me sound like an old polish man that like…farms goats or something. And obviously nobody can say it-“
“Mieczyslaw Miecyslaw Miecyslaw, there easy.” Lydia smirks.
Stiles snorts, turning his head away from the pillow to face Lydia. “Okay fine, but no one can spell it right.”
“M-I-E-C-Z-Y-S-L-A-W.”
Stiles rolls his eyes. “People with an average IQ.”
Lydia sighs and leans into his side. “Well I like your name. It’s cute. I could call you Mitchy as a fun little nickname.”
“Oh hell no you won’t.” He quickly pulls her into his lap and tickles her sides, knowing that’s where she's most ticklish.
“Alright alright.” He agrees, stoping for a few moment to let her catch her breath but then starting again only seconds later. “But what’s my name?”
Two can play at this game. “M-Mieczyslaw!” She says through the laughter.
“Nope, try again!”
“Mitchy!” She laughs harder as he rolls his eyes.
“Guess I’ll just have to tickle you forever.”
“Okay okay I give! Stiles! Y-Your name is Stiles!”
“That’s what I thought.” He says with a smirk, giving her a quick kiss on the nose as she catches her breath.
“So I can never call you by your real name?” Lydia pouts, giving him those brown puppy dog eyes, knowing damn well he can’t resist them.
He gives a super exaggerated groan. “Okay, I guess you can. But only you…and Scott.”
“I have to share with Scott? Will I ever get any of you to myself?” She jokes.
“You get to make out with me! Scott doesn't get that.”
“Why do I have a hard time believing that?”
Stiles shrugs. “Scotty is a beautiful man, but my lips are reserved for you.” He leans in and gives her a soft kiss.
She blushes as she pulls away from the kiss. “I love you Mieczyslaw.”
“I love you more Lydia Camille-Grace Martin.”
She freezes. “Oh my god, who told you my middle name?”
So... I finally wrote a Stydia fan fic! It takes place immediately after 6x10, otherwise known as the Episode We Have All Been Waiting For™. Since we didn't get to see Stiles’ and Lydia’s first time yet, (I'm still holding out hope that we will, though it's looking less and less likely...) I wanted to write it for myself. It’s part fluff/ part smut. I hope you guys like it, and I might add more depending on the response! Here you go:
“Pick up your phone, Stiles.” Lydia hissed into her hand as the call went to voicemail once again. It was unlike him to miss a single text from her, let alone five calls, even before. Now- now Stiles was her boyfriend. Or so she figured, since they hadn’t really discussed things “officially”. But in general, Lydia thought, if you confess your love before making out in a locker room, while facing imminent death, things were pretty serious.
It had been a week since Scott had diverted the Wild Hunt from Beacon Hills. Her pack had almost been ripped from her, Lydia the sole reminder of an entire town, an entire history. She would’ve been left behind; Scott, Malia, her mother… Stiles… all gone. A shiver ran through her, creeping up her spine like tendrils of ice. Lydia shook her hair out to clear her mind, pressing her lips together and glancing at Malia, who was standing a few feet away.
“Ready to go?” Lydia asked, slipping her phone into her dress’ pocket.
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