Stydia one-shots

Do you like me?

They were friends. That's all they knew. That's all anyone knew for a while, that the boy and girl were friends. And that's how things worked for a while. The group of teens would battle whatever hellish monster had accumulated in Beacon Hills and at the end of the day, they all went to their separate homes. What no one knew is one night the girl ended up at the boys house instead of her own.

Minutes after Stiles had walked through his front door, there was a small knock. He opened with a sigh that turned into a smile at the small strawberry blonde on his steps. The smile left soon as it came though, sorrow crossing her face.
"My moms not home." She mumbles, tugging at the sleeves of her sweater. "Probably off with another one of her gentlemen friends..." Her voice held anger and Stiles pouts.

His hand reaches out for her tenderly and Lydia doesn't hesitate to accept his hug. Because it had been a while since she's come home to find her mother gone but every time the house was empty it often left her in a funk. Stiles allowed her inside with a bit of probing but it didn't take much for her sneakers to shuffle past his. Sneakers. That was another thing. Lydia Martin did not wear sneakers but her feet hurt like hell. Running in heels through the woods was not ideal.

And while emerald eyes searched his house as though she'd never seen it before, Stiles trailed upstairs to retrieve her favorite movie. Never had this girl ever come into his home alone, without any of their other friends, and it was a little unsettling but hell she didn't care. "I got the Notebook." Stiles sighs, holding up the movie in question. The sight before him made his heart lurch. Lydia was small and quiet curled upon his living room couch. Nervously she tugged at sleeves of her sweater, something he had never seen her do before.

She looked weak. Her legs tucked beneath her, hair tangled around her face.
"Can we just sit here?" Lydia asks. Stiles was...surprised? He agrees, setting down the movie with caution on the coffee table. All the while his mind was scrambled. What was he supposed to do? There's this girl sitting on his couch with a crumpled body he'd never seen her in before and what was he supposed to do? This was the girl he'd feared for nearly his entire existence. Because this was the girl he loves.

So stiles sank into the cushion next to her, their skin no where near touching. And in a way that upset her. Lydia scooted towards him until her back melted into his chest and her head rested gently on his shoulder. Stiles held his breath.
"Are you okay?" He asks. And isn't that always the dumbest question to ask?
"Not really....Stiles?"
"Hm?"
She pauses. "Do you like me?"

His mind screamed YES but that was too straightforward. He spoke with certainty and comfort. "Lydia, of course. Why wouldn't I?"
She settles deeper into his body. "Because I feel like the world hates me. Because Jackson left me. Because Aiden's gone. Hell even Allison, I–"
"Aiden and Allison did not chose to leave you." He needed to make sure she knew that.

"And Jackson?" He scoffs. "Jackson is a bastard who didn't know how to deal with his problems, so he ran away from them."
"So I was his problem?" Lydia mews, not really argumentative but rather state-mental.
Stiles shifts until he's looking her in the eyes, whiskey flooding over a forest. "No. You've never been anyone's problem but Jackson–....Jackson..." He didn't know how to correct what he had said early.

His voice dropped. "Jackson didn't know how to love someone like you properly. He didn't know what he held in his hands, who he got to walk down the halls with, and he literally walked away from an actual angel."
Lydia broke into a smile and clung to his chest, hugging him as though he'd die the next day. Because in this screwed up world they lived in, he could've.

"Lydia you're–..." He didn't know how to describe her. Perfect just wasn't enough. He shook his head unknowingly with his mouth slightly agape. "You're, you're just...."
Lydia stared at him with slight amusement. "Do you like me?" She whispers without thinking, the second time these exact words had slipped from her mouth.

"Why wouldn't I?" He repeated his earlier statement. It was then Lydia took the situation into her own hands. Literally. She cupped his cheeks in her palms and moved them together, slowly and so beautifully yet painful in a way. It felt like everything but completely nothing all together. The kiss was bliss.
"Do you like me?" The third time.
Stiles smiles. "Always have, right?"
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Hola friends, Stydiawillhappen helped me out on this imagine so enjoy Xx