Be Delicate (With This Love)
Title: Be Delicate (With This Love)
Genre: Television
Series: Teen Wolf
Characters: Derek Hale, Lydia Martin
Spoilers: season 3
Rating: varies
Summary: A series of drabbles, WIP.
Disclaimer: I don't own it, but if I did, it'd be on HBO.
"She's going to be an alpha."
Lydia pursed her lips at her husband's statement, stepping around the kitchen table to join him at the window. Their daughter ran through the trees that surrounded their property; all long legs, red hair, and hazel eyes one minute, a tawny wolf pup the next. "With the way she bosses the boys around? Babe, she already is an alpha."
"I wonder where she gets that from?"
"Me, of course, along with that brilliant intellect and sharp wit."
"I guess I didn't contribute much?"
"She's got your smile," Lydia offered, pressing a kiss to the lips in question, "and your eyes."
"She reminds me of my sister," Derek replied, smirking down at his petite wife. He glanced back out the window, his smirk becoming a grin. "And now she's being chased by two werewolves...reminds me of you."
"Hey! I only let one catch me. I just happen to have a type."
_____
And love is not a word that the world knows
Whilst fighting for survival from its foe
Derek has never actually said the words and Lydia is okay with that. Every man who has ever spoken those three words to her has left her, and she's always just a little more cracked after they go. She can't resist a little tit-for-tat, however, because if he won't say them then she won't either. They show it in other ways, small little details that not even the enhanced senses of werewolves catch.
Maybe they'll say them someday, maybe even to each other. She's content with the small kiss he presses to her cheek before he leaves in the morning and the way he pauses to inhale the scent of her shampoo. She likes to think he carries it with him even when they're not together.
_____
Loving never helped that lonely heart,
The world a hostile city from the start
He knew the instant she entered his penthouse, the sharp click of her heels echoing off of the walls and telling him exactly where she paused. Her fingers grasped the back of his leather couch and made soft rubbing reverberations that he felt through the cushions. With a soft exhale that ruffled along the top of his head, she leaned over his shoulder, long red curls tickling the side of his face.
"Can I help you?"
"I've been thinking-"
"You're always thinking."
"-about you."
"About what?" Derek inquired, though he wasn't sure he wanted the answer. Everything about this screamed bad idea, from the fact that she was alone to that he was already half-aroused by the scent of her mixing with his own to those clever little fingers of her that were combing lightly through the hair at the nape of his neck.
"I like you," she whispered, pressing the words against the stubble along his jawline. She nuzzled the shadowed valley that lay under his cheekbone. "I like the way you smell, like sandalwood. What do I smell like?"
"Some kind of flower."
She smiled and he felt her teeth bite at the rim of his ear. "I like the way you taste, too. Would you like to know what I taste like?"
He had no answer for that.
"I'm actually quite torn, Derek. I can't ever seem to decide whether I want to kill you or lick you."
He froze, the words calling out at him from his past. Her hand slid from his nape to his chin, the burn of a silver knife pressing to the thin skin covering his Adam's apple. His fingers wrapped around her wrist, easily stopping the press of the sharp edge, though a few drops of blood slid into the hollow of his throat.
"You're not Lydia."
"You always were smarter than you looked."
_____
The patterns of attraction don't connect with your reaction and the scene that's playing out has made you doubt,
forever that the moment you are chasing is a view always escaping you however many times you hunt it down
Lydia set the mood with the skill of someone who'd been doing it her whole life. She brought intimacy and comfort to the open roughness of the forest, spreading a comforter across the wooden stump, playing soft music from her cell phone, and wearing her favorite lingerie under her trench coat. Then she settled down on the edge of the Nematon to wait.
Derek arrived on time, but hesitated at the edge of the clearing. "We don't have to do this."
"We do," she replied sharply, straightening the comforter and ignoring the way her hand shook.
"Maybe banshees and werewolves aren't compatible for a reason. Why won't you even talk about adoption?"
"I want your child! I want to feel her move inside of me! I am not broken, Derek!"
He was at her side instantly, his hands feverishly hot as he cradled her face. "You're not. I know you're not. All the tests and exams, there's nothing wrong with you."
"I'm a creature of death, you're of life. Deaton said that in the place where the barriers were thinnest, on the night they were at their most weak, there was a chance." She was pleading with him, her voice steady but her lips trembling and her eyes begging. "Please?"
He was nodding before she finished the word, his hands reaching for her belt. "I love you."
"I love you, too," Lydia swore, her nerves easing as the familiar rhythms of their lovemaking began to thrum along her skin. The full moon added an extra edge, a roughness to Derek's caresses that wasn't usually there.
Lydia could feel the power of the Nematon like a pulse beneath her back, and her heart beating in time with it. Under her hand, Derek's heart was doing the same.
____
I'll drop by some other day now
I will seek you out in silence
Another book, another mystery
Some accounts of love and violence
"Am I next?"
A soft nod of her head had Cora heading for the door, leaving her to the private conversation with her boyfriend that she'd been anticipating the entire ride over here.
"I passed Isaac on my way over, walking in the rain towards Scott's house. I probably could've given him a ride, but I figure you've pushed him away so I should do the same. Wouldn't want you getting any ideas about kicking me out of your life too."
Lydia knew it was snide and a little mean to speak to Derek this way, but she'd learned that he didn't like to explain himself and sometimes the only way to get an answer was to poke the beast.
"You'd be safer if I did," Derek replied, turning his back to her to brood out the large window in the open living area of the loft. He tilted his head enough to glance at her, but the streetlights made it impossible to read his expression.
Good thing she didn't need to see it to know what he was feeling.
She crossed the loft quickly, wrapping her arms around him from behind and pressing her face to his shoulder blades. Her hands just barely met but she twisted her fingers together and squeezed tighter. He was stiff in her arms, refusing to respond but unable to help the softness that slipped into his spine. Finally he covered her hands with one of his, lacing his fingers through her's and rubbing soft caresses on the back of her hand.
"You can't get rid of me that easily."
"Everyone around me dies."
"I have faith in you," she whispered into the triskelion on his back, "even if you don't."
____
I overheard a broken heart a damaged love to say
That all is lost we've stumbled hard there's nothing left to save
"...they've settled in San Francisco, with some old pack mates. Cora said Derek isn't taking to being a beta very well, but he's working on it with a therapist." Stiles snorted in amusement, grinning over at her like she should be sharing his entertainment. "I'm imagining some kind of dog whisperer, proficient in understanding grunts and snarling."
"Everyone needs help sometimes, Stiles," Lydia replies, though she forces a smile to curve her brightly painted lips. She doesn't mention that she knows Stiles spent three years in therapy after his mother died, or that she has a regular appointment and limitless refills on her antidepressants. The fact that they're all so terribly flawed is one of those things friends don't talk about; it's one of the silent secrets that bind them together.
"Scott wants to go up there next weekend and visit, talk over some of the stuff that's going on with Peter, see if Derek has any idea what he's planning."
She bites back the words that suddenly claw at her throat, that she wants to go with them, wants to see his face just one more time. "You should take Isaac. He misses them."
"Yeah, the whole crew is going up there. We're going to take off early from school and stay until Sunday. You want to come?"
"No," she answered as nonchalantly as she could, though from the small glance Stiles gave her she knew it had been just a little too quickly given. "I think with you all out of town I'll take my mom up on the spa day. My pores have been very stressed lately."
"You're beautiful." He was sincere enough that she shifted uncomfortably in her seat. Memories of the one kiss they'd shared flashed in her thoughts but Lydia refused to give in to the guilt that swam through her. She and Stiles had already had that discussion and moved on, whereas she and Derek had never discussed anything and left the entire 'friendship' they'd been hesitantly trying to build in pieces on his loft floor.
"Thanks, but I could use a little peace and quiet anyways. Just...um..." she paused, trying to find the words that would be obscure enough for no one to notice anything, but pointed enough that Derek, if he cared, would understand the message she was sending. "Tell him I wish him well and that he enjoys his fresh start."
It was polite, disingenuous, and the only closure she'd probably be able to get.
_____
If you stayed over I'd make it so sweet
I'd make you remember, baby, from your head to your feet
She trembled in his lap, her hands idly scratching and stretching against his chest as the last waves of her orgasm ricocheted through the muscles of her body. Lydia grinned at the ceiling as she playfully bit her lip before sighing self-satisfied. The curling tips of her hair danced on his thighs and the tickling sensation had him half-hard again even though he'd only just finished letting her ravish him minutes before.
"What are you doing today?" He asked, ignoring the way his hands couldn't resist cinching around her waist and bringing her chest to his, her hair a curtain around his head until her face was all he could see.
"I'm going to take a shower and then I'm meeting Allison and Stiles to do some research. You?"
Derek grinned suggestively, brushing his nose against hers. "I've got nothing. You should stay."
"I can't," she dismissed, already pulling back from him despite the brooding pout on his face. "But I'll come back later."
"I'll shower with you-"
"Nope," she interrupted, a naughty look crossing her face as she pushed him back onto the bed. "I want you exactly like this when I get back."
"Sweaty and covered in-"
"Me," she finished with a soft kiss, her hand slipping down and easily pumping him back to complete arousal, her moisture still slick on the skin of his shaft. "That way while I'm gone you can reach down and feel me there, and think about what you want to do to me when I get back."
"Lydia," he choked out though there was absolutely no oxygen left in his body. All the blood had rushed to one part of his anatomy and Derek couldn't remember ever having been so desperate for a woman's touch as he was in that moment.
"I'll be back in two hours."
"Lydia." The long groan followed her into the bathroom and she giggled when she heard it. She leaned out the bathroom door, licking her bottom lip as she watched him manipulate himself and ogle her through lust-hazed eyes.
"If you're a good boy and don't cum while I'm gone, when I get back we'll play Big Bad Wolf," she offered, twirling her hair innocently around her fingers, though she was anything but. "And I'll let you have it anyway you want."
She was going to be the death of him.
"And Derek? I will know whether you have or not."
_____
Review, please.
Genre: Television
Series: Teen Wolf
Characters: Derek Hale, Lydia Martin
Spoilers: season 3
Rating: varies
Summary: A series of drabbles, WIP.
Disclaimer: I don't own it, but if I did, it'd be on HBO.
"She's going to be an alpha."
Lydia pursed her lips at her husband's statement, stepping around the kitchen table to join him at the window. Their daughter ran through the trees that surrounded their property; all long legs, red hair, and hazel eyes one minute, a tawny wolf pup the next. "With the way she bosses the boys around? Babe, she already is an alpha."
"I wonder where she gets that from?"
"Me, of course, along with that brilliant intellect and sharp wit."
"I guess I didn't contribute much?"
"She's got your smile," Lydia offered, pressing a kiss to the lips in question, "and your eyes."
"She reminds me of my sister," Derek replied, smirking down at his petite wife. He glanced back out the window, his smirk becoming a grin. "And now she's being chased by two werewolves...reminds me of you."
"Hey! I only let one catch me. I just happen to have a type."
_____
And love is not a word that the world knows
Whilst fighting for survival from its foe
Derek has never actually said the words and Lydia is okay with that. Every man who has ever spoken those three words to her has left her, and she's always just a little more cracked after they go. She can't resist a little tit-for-tat, however, because if he won't say them then she won't either. They show it in other ways, small little details that not even the enhanced senses of werewolves catch.
Maybe they'll say them someday, maybe even to each other. She's content with the small kiss he presses to her cheek before he leaves in the morning and the way he pauses to inhale the scent of her shampoo. She likes to think he carries it with him even when they're not together.
_____
Loving never helped that lonely heart,
The world a hostile city from the start
He knew the instant she entered his penthouse, the sharp click of her heels echoing off of the walls and telling him exactly where she paused. Her fingers grasped the back of his leather couch and made soft rubbing reverberations that he felt through the cushions. With a soft exhale that ruffled along the top of his head, she leaned over his shoulder, long red curls tickling the side of his face.
"Can I help you?"
"I've been thinking-"
"You're always thinking."
"-about you."
"About what?" Derek inquired, though he wasn't sure he wanted the answer. Everything about this screamed bad idea, from the fact that she was alone to that he was already half-aroused by the scent of her mixing with his own to those clever little fingers of her that were combing lightly through the hair at the nape of his neck.
"I like you," she whispered, pressing the words against the stubble along his jawline. She nuzzled the shadowed valley that lay under his cheekbone. "I like the way you smell, like sandalwood. What do I smell like?"
"Some kind of flower."
She smiled and he felt her teeth bite at the rim of his ear. "I like the way you taste, too. Would you like to know what I taste like?"
He had no answer for that.
"I'm actually quite torn, Derek. I can't ever seem to decide whether I want to kill you or lick you."
He froze, the words calling out at him from his past. Her hand slid from his nape to his chin, the burn of a silver knife pressing to the thin skin covering his Adam's apple. His fingers wrapped around her wrist, easily stopping the press of the sharp edge, though a few drops of blood slid into the hollow of his throat.
"You're not Lydia."
"You always were smarter than you looked."
_____
The patterns of attraction don't connect with your reaction and the scene that's playing out has made you doubt,
forever that the moment you are chasing is a view always escaping you however many times you hunt it down
Lydia set the mood with the skill of someone who'd been doing it her whole life. She brought intimacy and comfort to the open roughness of the forest, spreading a comforter across the wooden stump, playing soft music from her cell phone, and wearing her favorite lingerie under her trench coat. Then she settled down on the edge of the Nematon to wait.
Derek arrived on time, but hesitated at the edge of the clearing. "We don't have to do this."
"We do," she replied sharply, straightening the comforter and ignoring the way her hand shook.
"Maybe banshees and werewolves aren't compatible for a reason. Why won't you even talk about adoption?"
"I want your child! I want to feel her move inside of me! I am not broken, Derek!"
He was at her side instantly, his hands feverishly hot as he cradled her face. "You're not. I know you're not. All the tests and exams, there's nothing wrong with you."
"I'm a creature of death, you're of life. Deaton said that in the place where the barriers were thinnest, on the night they were at their most weak, there was a chance." She was pleading with him, her voice steady but her lips trembling and her eyes begging. "Please?"
He was nodding before she finished the word, his hands reaching for her belt. "I love you."
"I love you, too," Lydia swore, her nerves easing as the familiar rhythms of their lovemaking began to thrum along her skin. The full moon added an extra edge, a roughness to Derek's caresses that wasn't usually there.
Lydia could feel the power of the Nematon like a pulse beneath her back, and her heart beating in time with it. Under her hand, Derek's heart was doing the same.
____
I'll drop by some other day now
I will seek you out in silence
Another book, another mystery
Some accounts of love and violence
"Am I next?"
A soft nod of her head had Cora heading for the door, leaving her to the private conversation with her boyfriend that she'd been anticipating the entire ride over here.
"I passed Isaac on my way over, walking in the rain towards Scott's house. I probably could've given him a ride, but I figure you've pushed him away so I should do the same. Wouldn't want you getting any ideas about kicking me out of your life too."
Lydia knew it was snide and a little mean to speak to Derek this way, but she'd learned that he didn't like to explain himself and sometimes the only way to get an answer was to poke the beast.
"You'd be safer if I did," Derek replied, turning his back to her to brood out the large window in the open living area of the loft. He tilted his head enough to glance at her, but the streetlights made it impossible to read his expression.
Good thing she didn't need to see it to know what he was feeling.
She crossed the loft quickly, wrapping her arms around him from behind and pressing her face to his shoulder blades. Her hands just barely met but she twisted her fingers together and squeezed tighter. He was stiff in her arms, refusing to respond but unable to help the softness that slipped into his spine. Finally he covered her hands with one of his, lacing his fingers through her's and rubbing soft caresses on the back of her hand.
"You can't get rid of me that easily."
"Everyone around me dies."
"I have faith in you," she whispered into the triskelion on his back, "even if you don't."
____
I overheard a broken heart a damaged love to say
That all is lost we've stumbled hard there's nothing left to save
"...they've settled in San Francisco, with some old pack mates. Cora said Derek isn't taking to being a beta very well, but he's working on it with a therapist." Stiles snorted in amusement, grinning over at her like she should be sharing his entertainment. "I'm imagining some kind of dog whisperer, proficient in understanding grunts and snarling."
"Everyone needs help sometimes, Stiles," Lydia replies, though she forces a smile to curve her brightly painted lips. She doesn't mention that she knows Stiles spent three years in therapy after his mother died, or that she has a regular appointment and limitless refills on her antidepressants. The fact that they're all so terribly flawed is one of those things friends don't talk about; it's one of the silent secrets that bind them together.
"Scott wants to go up there next weekend and visit, talk over some of the stuff that's going on with Peter, see if Derek has any idea what he's planning."
She bites back the words that suddenly claw at her throat, that she wants to go with them, wants to see his face just one more time. "You should take Isaac. He misses them."
"Yeah, the whole crew is going up there. We're going to take off early from school and stay until Sunday. You want to come?"
"No," she answered as nonchalantly as she could, though from the small glance Stiles gave her she knew it had been just a little too quickly given. "I think with you all out of town I'll take my mom up on the spa day. My pores have been very stressed lately."
"You're beautiful." He was sincere enough that she shifted uncomfortably in her seat. Memories of the one kiss they'd shared flashed in her thoughts but Lydia refused to give in to the guilt that swam through her. She and Stiles had already had that discussion and moved on, whereas she and Derek had never discussed anything and left the entire 'friendship' they'd been hesitantly trying to build in pieces on his loft floor.
"Thanks, but I could use a little peace and quiet anyways. Just...um..." she paused, trying to find the words that would be obscure enough for no one to notice anything, but pointed enough that Derek, if he cared, would understand the message she was sending. "Tell him I wish him well and that he enjoys his fresh start."
It was polite, disingenuous, and the only closure she'd probably be able to get.
_____
If you stayed over I'd make it so sweet
I'd make you remember, baby, from your head to your feet
She trembled in his lap, her hands idly scratching and stretching against his chest as the last waves of her orgasm ricocheted through the muscles of her body. Lydia grinned at the ceiling as she playfully bit her lip before sighing self-satisfied. The curling tips of her hair danced on his thighs and the tickling sensation had him half-hard again even though he'd only just finished letting her ravish him minutes before.
"What are you doing today?" He asked, ignoring the way his hands couldn't resist cinching around her waist and bringing her chest to his, her hair a curtain around his head until her face was all he could see.
"I'm going to take a shower and then I'm meeting Allison and Stiles to do some research. You?"
Derek grinned suggestively, brushing his nose against hers. "I've got nothing. You should stay."
"I can't," she dismissed, already pulling back from him despite the brooding pout on his face. "But I'll come back later."
"I'll shower with you-"
"Nope," she interrupted, a naughty look crossing her face as she pushed him back onto the bed. "I want you exactly like this when I get back."
"Sweaty and covered in-"
"Me," she finished with a soft kiss, her hand slipping down and easily pumping him back to complete arousal, her moisture still slick on the skin of his shaft. "That way while I'm gone you can reach down and feel me there, and think about what you want to do to me when I get back."
"Lydia," he choked out though there was absolutely no oxygen left in his body. All the blood had rushed to one part of his anatomy and Derek couldn't remember ever having been so desperate for a woman's touch as he was in that moment.
"I'll be back in two hours."
"Lydia." The long groan followed her into the bathroom and she giggled when she heard it. She leaned out the bathroom door, licking her bottom lip as she watched him manipulate himself and ogle her through lust-hazed eyes.
"If you're a good boy and don't cum while I'm gone, when I get back we'll play Big Bad Wolf," she offered, twirling her hair innocently around her fingers, though she was anything but. "And I'll let you have it anyway you want."
She was going to be the death of him.
"And Derek? I will know whether you have or not."
_____
Review, please.