Stydia One Shots

It Started On A Monday

It started on a Monday.

It's weird that something so magical and good could come out of a Monday. Though, let's be real here, this is Beacon Hills, everything is weird.

She barely noticed it. It started with a red beanie, to be more specific, Stiles' red beanie. She wore it as if she hadn't snatched it from the boys locker a few days ago. If Scott hadn't smelled it, everyone would've assumed it was hers. The tag on the back that had 'Stilinski' written in dark purple marker with the smallest letters ever just proved that it wasn't hers, but Stiles could care less. She was adorable, that's all that mattered.

The strawberry blonde banshee brightened his day considerably, with a wide, toothy smile that was reserved for him. Don't get him wrong though, they were just friends. Nothing more, nothing less.

Stiles rearranges the beanie on her head with a dopey grin when he sees her in the halls. "Well don't you look cozy?" He questions, pulling it down further on her head playfully. It was a fun way to make sure that she wouldn't get sick.

Lydia rolls her eyes and closes her locker, making the boy jump slightly. Her eyebrows raise at his reaction. It was just a locker, there was thousands everywhere. Stiles clears his throat, trying to look tough, his ego was hurt. It took her about two seconds to decode his mind. "Are you still scared from watching The Exorcist last night?"

He gasps, placing a hand over his heart and pretending to be offended even though his eyes showed nervousness. "Me? No. 'Course not. I'm allowed to jump when someone slams a locker loudly directly by my very fragile body. Considering all the crap that's gone on in this school, we should have an exorcism here." Stiles makes a cross with his fingers, hissing 'burn' into the air.

Her eyebrows furrow. She's defiantly going to call him a dork and make fun of him for the rest of the day simply for trying to 'burn' the air. Though, Lydia can't help the small smile that came to her lips. Cute. That was how she described the boy. He yawned like a kitten, laughed with his whole body and blushed redder than a baboons ass.

"Cute.." Lydia accidentally says aloud, disrupting his exorcism chant. "Be vanquished to hell, demon of the- wait what?" Stiles stops in the middle of his chant, putting his hands down slowly.

Lydia sputters awkwardly. Shit, shit, shit. That wasn't suppose to slip. How awkward was she? She wasn't Stiles, awkward things weren't suppose to happen daily for her. She was Lydia freakin Martin, the girl who was basically having a mental break down in front of her best friend.

"Nothing..."

"Oh, I think you said something."

Stiles smirks at the girl. Lydia rarely blushed, he'd only seen it three times. So when she did, he made sure to take full advantage of it. "You think I'm cute?" Stiles asks, wiggling his eyebrows at the girl. She shrugs, suddenly finding her chill. "Yeah, I guess, in a brotherly type of way."

Monday was when she started having feelings for a dorky, sarcastic, boy named Stiles Stilinski.

---

It didn't happen on Wednesday.

When Lydia noticed the boy sitting outside his house on the lawn in the pouring rain, she was quick to ask him what the hell he was doing. And he wasted no time in telling her that he'd forgotten his key and was waiting for his dad to get there.

She did exactly what he'd do for her. She sat down next to him, and let the rain drench her too. It was almost silent, besides the sound of the rain faintly hitting against the sidewalk and the crunch of dead grass under Stiles' Converse.

Lydia pulls her knees up to her chest, glad that she hadn't worn Stiles' flannel today or the smell of him would've been washed out by the rain. Yes, she's aware of how obsessive that sounds, but she's realized something. Stiles is safe, he's warm, and he's half the reason she can deal with this life. Stiles is like home to her.

Stiles would've told her to go back inside her house, not wanting her to get wet, but he couldn't help but look - okay, stare - at her.

Her hair turned red from the rain, it got tangled and curlier than usual. He wanted to run his hands through it, which was a new feeling. Raindrops clung to her eyelashes like a life line, making her eyes seem prettier than before.

Perfect. That was the only word he could use to describe her. She smiled like she'd never be able to smile again, took notes like her life depended on it, and argued like every word that left her lips was a fact.

"Perfect.." Stiles murmurs quietly, quickly catching the attention of the girl since there was no other sounds around them. Her eyebrows raised immediately, a smirk quickly forming. Stiles knows when he's fucked up, and now is the day he'd fucked up.

Normally, accidentally calling her perfect wouldn't phase either of them. Stiles always gave her compliments, it was what he did. Though, when she called him adorable, he had basically teased her all day long, and Lydia loved revenge.

"I- uh- fuck, fine, punish me." Stiles shrugs and puts his hands up, ready to be teased. Lydia stretches her legs out, pulling a strand of grass out of the dirt while about a million thoughts ran through her head. But one stood out.

She eyes his soaked Star Wars shirt that was showing from under his red flannel. He was such a dork. A dork with chocolate eyes, cute little moles, hair that went every which way, and pink lips that were usually rambling about the supernatural. Lips that could be put to so much better use, out here, in the rain.

By now, Stiles was curious to know why she hadn't poked his stomach and made an 'aww' noise yet. He was also curious to know why she was moving closer to him slightly. Most of all, Stiles wanted to know why his dad had to show up right when her hand found the back of his neck, pulling him closer until they were so rudely interrupted.

It didn't happen on Wednesday, but it would happen someday.

---

It continued on Friday.

One stormy pack night at the Stilinski residence, where ten boxes of pizza was being passed around like mono on Valentine's Day. The whole pack was there, going through google, police files, and anything else that Stiles stole from the police station.

Isaac was lying on the couch, taking up most of the space with his head in Scotts lap. Malia and Kira were on the floor, a circle of old papers surrounding them, each paper having some sort of murder case. Allison was reading about Dread Doctors with Mason by the coffee table while Liam and Hayden searched through ridiculous theories on Google.

Stiles and Lydia sat next to each other, reading off of the same book about The Wild Hunt. His legs were crisscross on the ripped leather chair, the book laying in his lap lazily. His lips were greasy from the pizza and his hair was still semi neat from when he had tried to style it an hour before this. The book was rather interesting, even though he couldn't possibly study it with the strawberry blonde falling asleep on his arm.

He didn't have the heart to wake her up. She hadn't slept in a day anyways, and she needed the sleep. Stiles grins at the girl, the word perfect popped up in his head again. He runs a hand through her hair silently and she makes a small noise at the action, but doesn't move.

That's when the pack noticed it. Friday night was when the pack glanced over at them and grinned like dopey idiots.

A/N

So around 3 am, I was being my normal self - aka reading fan fiction and watching anime at the same time - anyways, I saw a red beanie in the corner of my room and this happened.