Archive of Our Own ^beta

tonight, i want to forget
i want lights to blind me
i want peace, want to disappear (To disappear)
ease my mind, will you?
play that song again, 'cause we were are in love

They help undress each other.

The white of the bathroom is too bright for their eyes, because they’ve been out in the darkness of the night too long, but strangely it feels comforting to Lydia and Jordan, to be enveloped by light once again. Steam starts to cloud the mirror above the sink that they both share in the mornings, where Lydia does her hair and makeup while Jordan shaves any morning stubble he has, because she loves him clean-shaven.

(But then again, she loves him no matter what anyways.)

She’s eighteen and it’s the summer after graduation. Her mother is gone for most of it, something about teaching a college leveled biology class out of state, because she’s slowly working on getting her Ph.D and Lydia can not be any more proud of her. And with her mother gone, Lydia’s new temporary home has become her boyfriend’s too tidy apartment, where she’s taken the liberty to put up pastel blue curtains and crowd his closet with about a dozen of her dresses because it’s easier that way, and Jordan doesn’t seem to mind at all.

That’s one of the many things she likes about him. The way he adjusts and adapts so easily to things, to change, and Lydia sometimes jokes that if the world ever went through a zombie apocalypse, he would survive easily. Jordan won’t allow that to happen, of course, not as long as she’s safe with him as well, because he would rather sacrifice his life than let her die.

That’s one of the things that Lydia isn’t sure she likes about him or not. How willing he is to sacrifice his life for her over and over again, even if it means each time he’ll come back later and later until one day, he won’t come back at all.

But, Lydia doesn’t want to think about that right now.

Instead, she focuses on removing the tattered remains of his shirt and then his pants, until he stands in front of her naked with only a thin layer of ash coating his body from tonight’s events. Jordan removes her clothes after that, except he takes his time unbuttoning her already half ripped blouse, letting his still warm fingers linger on her revealing flesh until the shirt slides off her small frame, falling to the floor carelessly. He keeps eye contact with her the whole time, even as he leans around her to unzip her skirt, which pools around her singed feet from where the flames tickled her toes as she walked across the forest of trees, or what was left of it.

Lydia’s left in just her thin undergarments now, and those are easy to get out of.

When they’re both naked, the distance between them closes as Lydia pulls him into a kiss, her smooth pale body pressing up against his blackened one as she tastes the fire on his lips and it’s a taste she’s gotten far too used to. Jordan cradles her face in that gentle way that he does and it reminds her of how he carried her away from the burning forest while the stench of death overwhelmed her from all around, and it was only when his arms had wrapped around her and she had pressed her face into his chest as he whispered repeatedly in her ears, it’s okay, Lyds, I got you, did she finally feel relief.

It was a horrible plan. She had been against it in all ways, because they were going up against a group of druids hellbent on sacrificing all the werewolves in the area. It was part of the threefold death, Lydia had read, because she finds herself reading more and more nowadays, late into the night, using Jordan’s chest as a pillow while he slept and she read on into the night.

By the time the druids reached Beacon Hills, they had already drowned and hanged a dozen werewolves for whatever god they wanted to pay tribute too, and now all they had to do to complete the cycle was kill a dozen more by burning them. Over the year, Beacon Hills not so surprisingly became the home for many other supernatural creatures, most of them being werewolves, so it wasn’t surprising that the Druids wanted to perform their last sacrifice here.

Lydia doesn’t know much of what happened—she was rightfully excluded from the plan because who knows what would happen to a banshee amidst the burning of a dozen werewolves to their charring death.

What she does know is that Jordan was supposed to be the one to get the werewolves out of the forest, because even if he died, he would come back again, as Stiles had said, but Lydia was against this—she’s always against anything that involves her boyfriend dying—but Jordan had reassured her, told her that he’d be okay, because if it means saving a dozen lives, he would do it in a heartbeat.

And sometimes, she hates how good he is.

When their lips finally part, Lydia looks up at him, this man that she’s known for a little over a year, even though she’s felt like it’s been much, much longer than that.

“I’m sorry,” is the first thing Jordan says to her, and she’s come to realize that he apologizes a lot, even for things that aren’t in his control.

“For what?” Lydia whispers, wrapping her arms around him, not caring if she gets covered in ash as well.

“For not being able to save them,” he says slowly. “And for letting you see that.”

“I came there willingly,” she tells him, as they stand there, holding each other for a while, finding a sweet unspoken contentment in just dwelling in one another’s arms. “And it wasn’t your fault.” When she looks up at him again, she sees part of herself in his eyes, in his expression. It reminds her of all the times when she used to think of herself as guilty whenever she couldn’t save someone.

“Are your feet okay?” He asks next, glancing downward where her toes touched his, and then looking back at her, “are you okay?”

Lydia always finds herself speechless for a moment whenever she hears those words of concern, whenever she sees his eyes scanning her, making her sure she isn’t hurt. She smiles, leans in and kisses the corner of his mouth before whispering against his lips, “As long as I have you, I’ll always be okay.”

The warmth of the smile he returns to her lets her know that he feels the same as well.

When the water finally gets hot enough, they step underneath the hot spray of the shower together, and as soon as Lydia feels the hot water on her skin, her body relaxes, any tension or lasting anxiety from what happened tonight releasing from her. The water immediately turns murky around their feet, as the ash and charred remains start to glide off Jordan’s body under the spray, revealing his glistening and smooth body again, absent of any scars or wounds, as if he never died in the first place.

Lydia still remembers the first time he died when they were together, how she had screamed for him until she couldn’t scream for him anymore, how she had waited at the station for him to come back, clutching his still warm jacket close to her chest. And when he did finally come back, she remembers how the tears streamed down her face, how she had thrashed her arms against him when he tried holding her, when he kept on whispering apologies in her ear, while she pounded on his chest with her fists. She remembers feeling so many things that day—anger, sadness, but most importantly, relief. Relief, because Jordan had come back to her.

(And Lydia likes to think that he’ll always come back to her. Always.)

“It’s always most difficult to get out from underneath the nails,” Jordan says, as Lydia helps him scrub off the leftover stubborn ash.

She smiles, placing a kiss on his shoulder and burying her face there for a moment, her hand sliding idly down his chest as the hot spray of the shower head drenched them. “This is nice. We should do this more often.” She looks up at him, small smirk on her lips.

Jordan chuckles, his hands sliding down her back before settling around her waist. “We should, we would save water that way too.”

Lydia snorts, her hand trailing down his chest now until her tiny hand wraps around his cock, giving his length one long stroke as she glances at him through heavy-lidded eyes. Jordan’s eyes are dark with desire as he watches her, the hand on her waist pulling her closer to him. “I don’t think we’ll be saving any water actually,” Lydia whispers, going up on her toes and kissing his chin before biting at his lower lip.

A low, husky groan escapes from Jordan, and without another hesitation, one of his hands intertwines in the wet tangle of her hair, pulling her into a heated kiss. Lydia moans into his mouth as Jordan gently pushes her up against the wall of the shower, while her hand tightens around his cock and he coaxes her mouth open with his tongue. Lydia can’t help but shiver when she feels his tongue slide over the roof of her mouth, despite the hot water drenching over their bodies. She’s breathless when they part and barely has time to catch it as, Jordan starts placing burning kisses down the pale column of her throat, and Lydia tilts her head back giving him more access as he bites and nips at her wet skin, and all Lydia can do is let out satisified sighs. She wants to distance herself from the outside world right now, forget about the events that happened today, and just lose herself in Jordan’s arms, in his lips, in his warmth, in the feeling of his cock filling her up. 

His lips suddenly raise from the crook of her neck, his breath ghosting over the shell of her ear as he whispers roughly, “Tell me what you want.”

She can’t help but let out a pleased noise at the sound of his voice. She loves it when Jordan takes control and can make her feel so good at the same time. “Touch me. I want you to touch me,” she says, her voice turning throaty as she brushes her lips against the corner of his mouth, and then adds with a whisper, “I want you to fuck me against this wall, I want to feel you inside me until I can’t feel anything anymore...until I forget everything that happened today.” It’s only when she says it does she realize how needy she sounds, but she could hardly care at the moment, because all she wants is him and only him.

A languid heat rises in the pit of her belly as she feels Jordan’s expert hand slide down her stomach slowly while water drips down all around her skin. Her breath slightly hitches when his fingers finally stop at her already soaked sex, and Lydia can feel the warmth of Jordan’s body to the steaming shower start to overwhelm her. She finds her mind going back to the warmth of the fire in the forest, the warmth of a dozen werewolves burning around her.

Jordan feels her tensing. “Relax, Lyds,” he tells her softly, his fingers pushing their way past the folds of her sex. He pauses there and leans in, kissing the spot above her brow. “We don’t have to, you know.”

Lydia shakes her head. “I want this,” she reassures him. She wants to feel his body pressed against hers, wants to have him as close to her as she can, while she still can, because no matter how much she likes to think that he will always return to her, she can’t ignore the doubt that one day he might not.

Jordan nods, giving her a soft smile as he presses his lips against hers and pushes a finger inside her, all the way to the first knuckle. Lydia lets out a low moan as her arms come up to wrap around his shoulders for purchase, her legs spreading farther for him as he pushes in a second finger, and then a third, until he’s rhythmically thrusting in and out of her. His fingers press against a perfect bundle of nerves inside her that Lydia loves so much, making her cry out as she buries her face into Jordan’s shoulder. He continues spreading her wide like that, pushing against that sweet spot, and it doesn’t take long before Lydia’s clamping down on his fingers, something curling in her belly as she lets out another cry.

“That’s it, Lyds,” he whispers coaxingly against her ear, his thumb rubbing against her clit now. “Come for me, baby.”

And that’s all Lydia needs to hit the verge as her orgasm finally rushes over her, a gasp leaving her lips while her toes curl against the shower floor. Her eyes flutter close for a few long moments as Jordan’s fingers finally leave her, a low whine escaping her throat from the feeling of emptiness inside her. When she finally manages to catch her breath again from the wake of her orgasm, she glances up at Jordan again and sees him licking her come off his fingers, and just the sight of it makes Lydia’s knees tremble.

“You taste amazing,” he tells her.

“I want a taste,” Lydia whispers, deviousness in her tone as she yanks him down for another passionate kiss, tasting her sweetness against his tongue. Jordan pushes her further against the wall until their wet bodies are pressed together, hips joined, and Lydia feels his erection pressing against her thigh as they kiss.

Lydia tries to slip her legs around his waist for more friction, but her legs keep falling due to the slick wetness of their skin, but Jordan fixes that as he wraps her legs around him, holding her steady by the hips and she’s so hot and wet for him, that his cock slides inside her easily.

“Fuck me hard,” Lydia moans, her fingers already digging into his back as she wraps around him like a steel vice.

“Are you sure?” His hesitance almost makes Lydia smile, because even when she wants him to take control, is literally begging him to take control, he still wants to make sure.

Lydia drags her teeth down across his earlobe teasingly and breathes, “Mhm. Take me until all I think about is you tomorrow.”

Her words seem to give him reassurance because he lets out what sounds like a low growl from his throat, and wastes no time bumping up inside her hard and fast. His lips capture hers again in another blazing kiss as they fall into some beautifully frenzied rhythm, their hips rocking each time Jordan thrusts into her, the sleek sound of wet skin slapping against wet skin resonating through the bathroom along with Lydia’s whimpers and moans, encouraging him onward with each deepening thrust to her hilt. His grip around her hip tightens, but not hard enough to leave a bruise, although the way Lydia’s nails are digging trails down his back are definitely going to leave a mark tomorrow.

Jordan pulls away from her lips softly, letting his head drop to her chest, kissing and licking at the top of her breasts, tasting the salt of her skin and the warm droplets of water still on her body. And when his mouth finds her pert nipple, enclosing his lips around it and sucking gently, while the speed of his thrusts never falter, Lydia feels herself climbing higher and higher, the small whimpers and moans quickly turning into loud throaty cries as she arches her back off the wall, giving him better access to her breasts.

His hands slide down her back then, resting on the curve of her ass, kneading and squeezing her buttocks while his mouth switches from one breast to the other, giving each equal amount of attention. Every single sensation she's feeling starts to overwhelm Lydia’s body to the point where she feels like every muscle inside her is constricting, ready to send her over the edge soon. She raises her head from where it’s buried in Jordan’s shoulder and manages to cup his face, making him look up at her. Green eyes meet green eyes in an intense but loving stare, as Jordan kisses the corner of her mouth, wiping away the wet flyaway hairs that are matted on to her face. “You’re so beautiful, Lyds…,” he whispers soothingly in the crook of her neck as he fucks up into her. “So beautiful.”

Lydia wails, calling out Jordan’s name like a sweet, sweet hymn, while the knot in her belly coils tightly and with one last thrust of his cock, her hips stutter and she’s unraveling over him like a pretty pink ribbon around a giftbox—slow and all at once. “Oh my g-god, yes, Jordan, please,” Lydia moans, feeling stars explode behind her eyelids and a fire ignite deep inside her, a fire that she willingly lets burn, because it’s Jordan’s warmth blazing into her as she presses her body close to his, becoming one with him.

Jordan’s thrusts come to a slow as she clenches around his cock, making him come almost immediately after her, spilling his seed deep inside her. And as they ride out their orgasm, Lydia trembling in his arms still, Jordan peppers her with gentle kisses all over her body as she comes down from her high.

Still in a blissful haze, Jordan pulls out of her and sets her down, where she steadies against him because her legs are still quivering. “I love you, Lyds,” he murmurs, cupping her face and placing a kiss on her forehead, his lips lingering there.

Lydia tries to her breath again as she clings to him, holding him close. “Mhm, I love you too,” she says, voice muffled against his chest.

She feels him smile against her skin. “Let’s clean you up now, okay?” He says, reaching around her for the numerous body washes and shampoo bottles sitting in the corner.

Lydia can only nod, her body too pliant and limp to form any coherent words out of her mouth. So instead, she lets him take his time with cleaning her up, with washing her hair gently using strawberry scented shampoo, and Lydia’s never felt so loved before in her life.

**

After they finish drying each other off, Jordan carries her to his bed, where, Lydia curls up to his side, her head on his bare chest, while Jordan wraps an arm  protectively around her. It’s times like these where Lydia basks the most in his warmth and his love. It’s times like these, where they both come out of a dangerous situation like the one tonight alive, but deeply scarred, and end up making love like it’s the last time they’ll ever make love—like it’s the last time they’ll ever hold each other so close.

And it’s times like these where she realizes she can’t be without him, and he without her.

Lydia waits for Jordan’s breathing to come to a slow and for him to finally drift off to sleep. It’s only then when she presses a soft kiss to his chest, the light hairs on his skin glistening like silver in the moonlight, and she whispers, “Don’t leave me.” She doesn’t expect him to hear it, but then she feels his fingers intertwine with hers and when she looks up, she sees his brilliant green eyes are drowsily gazing down at her.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he tells her softly, brushing his lips against their entwined fingers. “Ever. I promise you that, Lyds.”

Lydia nods slowly as she settles against him again. And Jordan, with their hands still joined, whispers it over and over to her again until she manages to fall asleep with the reassurance that when she wakes up in the morning, he'll still be here with her.