Stydia One Shots

Hangover Pancakes

Fuckin' A my head hurts.

Why is it so cold? It's July.

Why is my bed so fucking hard.

What the hell happened last night?

Oh god, I'm hungover,

Lydia finally found the strength to pull her throbbing head off the ground (not her cosy bed). Her eyes creaked open to the blazing sunlight, and the heels of her hands scraped on the-is that asphalt?

She looked down to find she lost her top some where and was only wearing her favorite pink push-up and a pair of jeans. Her red stilettos were only an arms length away. The girl looked to the left and saw a streetlight, only looking past it to find the bright red and yellow sign of Denny's. Fucking great. I can treat my hangover with pancakes. Then she looked to the right and saw a bunch of cars, leading to her stunning revelation:

Lydia was half naked and hungover in a Denny's parking lot.

Something stirred in front of her and she turned to it, looking at someone probably her age in a Denny's uniform, holding a broom.

"Oh thank god, I thought you were dead." He said, and Lydia recognized the voice as someone in her English class, the kid who hung with Allison's boyfriend. She remembers his name- Stiles Stilinski.

A pang of pain went through Lydia's head and she groaned, gripping it. "You're Stiles, right? Can you get me some Advil? I would ask for a pancake but-" she checked around for her beloved prada handbag- damn it! "My purse is no where to be found." She gave the trademark Lydia Martin smile and his lips dropped open as he fumbled for an answer.

"Ye-yeah, yes, you must've been at Danny Māhealani's Fourth of July party. Do you, you know, want a hand? Or a coat?" He scratched the back of his head and Lydia noticed his cheeks burn the color of cherries. Which is when she remembered she was in a fucking parking lot in her bra.

Her eyes widened and her hands moved so quick to cover her midsection that it refeberaeted into her head and sent another whiff of pain. She groaned again and nodded, and the boy tripped over his feet before running inside of the diner.

Lydia entertained herself while he was away by chipping at her nail polish and cleaning her beloved heels of gross parking lot dirt, and then Stiles showed up with a red Cyclones Lacrosse hoodie. He shrugged it out towards her and she snatched it and pulled it over her head, finally realizing why she always saw Allison wearing Scott's hoodie-it was cozy as hell.

"Now, you wouldn't mind helping me stand? I think if I do on my own I'll fall right into this car," she lazily put a hand out and grinned. He-once again- scratched the back of his head before grabbing Lydia's dainty hand and pulling up. Stiles didn't pull as well as he thought because she almost fell back before he yelped and hooked his hands under her arms until she was standing up right.

"Woahhhhh," Lydia said, grabbing her temples and almost face-planting on the concrete before Stiles wrapped a hand around her waist and began to walk her inside.

"Okay, you need a glass of water and a pain killer," he said, and Lydia threw one arm over his shoulder and he pulled most of her weight through the glass doors.

She finally plopped down on a cracked red leather bar stool that creaked as it turned. As soon as she sat, she fell forward and fell asleep.

Maybe 1 minute, maybe 5 hours later she woke to a tapping on her head. Lydia shot up so quick that she got a head rush of pain, but it evened out and her vision landed on a nice glass of water, a little pink Advil pill, and a pancake with butter. She grinned, looking up to see Stiles working away at cleaning the glasses.

"I told you I don't have any money," she complained, washing down the pill with a huge gulp of water. He just smirked- since when does the nerdy Stiles Stilinski smirk?

"It's on the house. My boss is passed out in the back and I haven't had another customer for hours." He put a glass down and put a fork down next to the pancake, before leaning on the bar and looking her in the eye, and Lydia quickly learned that the shy kid who sat behind her was just as stubborn as she.

"Wait-what time is it?" She panicked, checking her pockets for her phone, but nothing was there. She sighed and kept sipping on the water.

"1:37, do you want me to call someone? Get you a ride home?" Stiles said, and Lydia's mind zapped to her boyfriend, Jackson. Oh my god, did he just abandon me? No he wouldn't do that, she thought to herself, but the realization hit that Jackson was exactly the person to do that. Why can't Lydia just break up with him? What's holding her back?

"No," She finally replied to Stiles, "My boyfriend doesn't seem to be looking for me-" Lydia was cut off by a lump at the back of her throat, and a tear down her face. (Her emotions weren't exactly in check, hangovers have really weird effects.)

Stiles noticed crying coming from her and almost tripped and banged his head on the bar as he ran back over to her. "Lydia, come on, please don't cry. Just breathe, in and-"

"God, why am I dating such a jerk!" Sob, cry, "He didn't even try to look for me! He probably just thinks I'm at home- he wasn't even drunk last night!" More tears, "Why the fuck am I crying?" Lydia yelled, and then picked up the fork and started furiously eating her pancake. Stiles just rested a hand on her shoulder and handed her a tissue, which she grabbed and patted her oncoming tears while chewing. God, I forgot how good pancakes were,

"I'm such a mess," she chucked to herself before wiping one last tear, "and I hate it when people see me cry," Lydia looked down and her pancake and began to poke little holes in it with her fork.

"You shouldn't care if people see you cry," Stiles said, and her head went up to meet his honey colored eyes. She just furrowed her brow- almost certain she looked like a living train wreck.

"Because I think you look really beautiful when you cry" he gave her a cute lopsided smile, and stared down at his hands which were resting on the bar.

Lydia felt heat rise to her cheeks and bit her lip, trying to hold back a smile-trying and failing. Stiles looked up again and instantly fell in love with the way she smiled.

"I think that's the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me," She made eye contact with him once again, before finishing her pancake. Stiles then suggested that he drive her home, which she gratefully accepted.

Even though the jeep was rusty and the ride was bumpy, Lydia found comfort in his Lacrosse hoodie- taking note of the smell, cinnamon and fresh linen. The slight rocking of the jeep brought her to a much needed sleep, only groggily remembering a pair of strong arms lifting her up before she woke up in her bed.

A/N:
I thought this was super fucking cute. Like amazingly cute. I love this. A lot. And, just as an FYI, no ones supernatural. If you didn't figure that one out.

Anyway, I hope you all have an amazing day. Make sure to COMMENT!! I love hearing what you guys think of my writing, it just makes me get better.

Byeeeeee❤️