A/N: This one shot is inspired by this real life story: Apparently I can't link things here but if you're curious PM me and I can link you! Hope you enjoy, took a break from writing Witched to get this one out :P

"Jackson."

"Hm."

"Get me a diet Coke."

"I'm busy, Lydia. Chill out."

"You're the one who wanted to take me to this stupid game in the first place," Lydia hissed at him venomously. Lydia did not deem this to be a good date. Her sometimes-boyfriend, Jackson, had acquired some tickets to a stupid Reds game and here they were, crammed in the stands with Lydia going out of her mind with boredom.

She glanced to her right. "Jackson," she snapped. He didn't even look up from his phone. "Would you mind explaining what exactly you're doing?"

"Lydia." He finally looked up from his phone. "If you want a diet Coke so much, get. It. Yourself." And then he went right back to it.

Lydia huffed and fell silent. Sometimes her relationship with Jackson felt a little shallow and contrived. They bickered like this all the time, which she'd always dismissed as little couple fights, but now that she was thinking about it, she couldn't even remember the last time they'd gotten along more than five minutes outside of sex…

"You want mine?"

Lydia turned to her left at the new voice, now taking in the stranger on that side of her that she'd been ignoring completely for the past half an hour.

He had dark brown hair tucked under a cap and tawny-coloured eyes to match, a gently sloping nose, and dark eyebrows currently hopefully arched up. His smile was a little lopsided but with unbridled enthusiasm, making his adorable cheekbones poke out of his face more prominently. Letting her eyes flicker down his form, she noted his scrawny looking frame. But then again the hands that were holding his unopened can of pop out to her were long-fingered and attractive.

He wasn't her usual type, but she could admit he was cute.

After thoroughly and without shame checking him out, she asked him plainly, "Is it diet?"

His smile fell slightly. "Oh. Um, it's regular Coke."

She rolled her eyes with great exaggeration. "Then no. Obviously." She turned away from his gaze. She was very used to men checking her out. She was beautiful, after all; she knew that. That didn't mean she had to encourage them.

Unfortunately, the man on her other side was still not paying any attention to her, even when she tugged at his arm ("just a second, Lydia, Jesus.") and she was left leaning back and folding her arms.

She could still feel the stranger's eyes on her. "Who are you cheering for?" he asked tentatively. He had a nice voice. Kind of low, raspy in a good way.

She considered ignoring him. But he sounded harmless, and her creep radar wasn't going off, and she was bored as hell, and Jackson was a dick, so she responded.

"We're here for the Reds," she replied stiffly.

He gaped at her. "The Reds?"

His tone was most disapproving, and Lydia was a little miffed. "And you're cheering for…"

"The Mets," he exclaimed proudly, tipping his cap (which Lydia could now see the Mets insignia emblazoned on) and pointing at his blue and orange jersey. "I've been a fan since I was a little kid." Then he mumbled, "I thought I was right about you."

She heard him. "What do you mean, exactly?"

He looked stricken at being caught. "Well, I just thought, that since you're- you're really beautiful, and perfect, that you must cheer for the Mets. Because they're obviously the better team."

Lydia's eyebrows raised. "You've talked to me all of three minutes and you think I'm beautiful and perfect?" She'd gotten a lot of compliments in her life but...

He blushed spectacularly, colour tingeing his cheekbones pink. He was adorable, Lydia decided. "Y-yeah," he stammered, clutching his Coke can tightly. "I mean, not to sound like a creep or anything, but you are beautiful," he said earnestly. "And I heard your laugh when you came in, and it was perfect."

She examined him, looking for signs of false flattery. But his eyes were wide and now a little shy, perhaps (rightfully) afraid of being shot down, so she replied with amusement.

"I laughed because my boyfriend tripped on the stairs. He was looking at his phone the whole way up."

He absorbed that (she watched carefully for looks of disappointment but he was either very good or had already guessed it) and grinned, looking like he was trying very hard not to chuckle. "I hope he's alright." He didn't sound incredibly sincere.

Lydia glanced to her right at Jackson for a mere moment before turning back. "He'll live," she replied dismissively, allowing a small smile at him.

They stopped talking after that, because the golden-eyed stranger became very involved in the game, hooting at random points and flailing his arms like an idiot, and Lydia rolled her eyes every time, at least until Jackson muttered under his breath "what a fucking moron" when the stranger let out a particularly loud "whoo!" and she started smiling every time he did instead.

Lydia went back to boredom besides that, at least until she glanced up at the big screen and realized her face was on it. Her jaw dropped.

She and Jackson were on the Kiss Cam.

She immediately turned to her boyfriend, feeling the weight of thousands of eyes on them. "Jackson, look!" She pointed frantically at the screen.

"Not now, Lydia," Jackson muttered, typing furiously on his phone.

Lydia felt her face heating up as she tugged on his sleeve. "Jackson, look, we're on camera, we're on the K-"

"I said not now," Jackson ground out, ripping his arm out of her grip.

She stared at him for a moment, affronted. Out of the side of her eye she could see the camera still on them, and a few boos from the crowd.

Lydia felt a frown curling on her face. Lydia Martin was not a loser. She was not going to be denied a kiss on national television. She absolutely needed this to be perfect because the stranger had been right, Lydia Martin was perfect and she deserved nothing less -

Wait. The stranger.

She turned her head around and saw him watching them, gaze curious.

She tilted her head at him, eyebrows raised. It took him a few moments, but then he got it and his eyes widened almost comically. "Me?" he mouthed.

And Lydia shrugged and nodded because, well, he was cute, and she could stand to kiss him for the sake of her reputation. So she leaned in and he sat stock still until their lips met and the crowd went absolutely wild.

She didn't really care about Jackson's reaction, which was admittedly a large reason she had gone into this in the first place, because suddenly she was overwhelmed with the soft and warm feeling of his lips on hers. He was timid at first, merely meeting her lips in a closed-mouthed, sober kiss, but she pushed further, hands moving to grip his shirt front, and he suddenly came alive.

One of his large hands curled around to caress her cheek and suddenly his kiss was more bold, his head tilting to kiss her more deeply, and he tasted vaguely like peanut butter and chocolate which meant he'd eaten a Reese cup and dammit Lydia loved Reese cups. Wanting more, one of her hands slid up to pull his cap off so she could thread her fingers into his thick hair and he made a sort of quiet, desperate sound in the back of his throat.

She was aware of the kiss escalating into something more passionate- and yes, there may have even been a little tongue involved, and she would have been pleasantly surprised at how skilled a kisser he was had she been clear-minded enough to have coherent thoughts.

Rattled, she finally pulled away from him, and the sound in the stadium was thundering applause. Dimly now she could feel Jackson tugging at her shoulder but she ignored him for the moment to examine the man in front of her.

The stranger she'd just kissed on national television looked ravished, pupils dilated and mouth flushed perfectly red, and his dark hair that she had revealed was messy from her hand raking through it. He also looked shocked.

She tried to school her expression into something as cool and collected as possible, coyly placing his cap back on his head and turning away to smile sweetly at Jackson, who was red-faced as a tomato.

"You can drive yourself home," was all her (ex) boyfriend could manage angrily before he stood abruptly in the stands and made his way out of the bleachers. Lydia smiled at his departure. The man had a nice ass, but then again that was all he really had to his character.

Someone cleared their throat behind her. Slowly she turned back to the stranger, her face as much an indifferent mask as it could possibly be. The truth was she felt shaken by what had just occurred- maybe the crowd had already forgotten, but she couldn't. It was that good.

He looked very much unsure and awkward, clearing his throat. "So… um… that was-"

Oh, fuck it. Lydia deserved this, and she was intrigued by him. "Great."

He looked shocked, mouth opening slightly.

"In fact, you should take me out to dinner," she suggested, scooting closer. When he seemed unable to respond, she leaned forward, "but first, tell me your name." When he still didn't respond, she felt herself waver. Maybe she'd read him wrong. Oh, god, maybe he had someone already… "Unless you don't want to?" It ended out sounding like a question.

He snapped out of it then, blinking rapidly. "What? No, no of course I do. Of course I'll, ah, take you out, oh my god, I'd be crazy to say no, do you like Italian?"

She placed her hand on his and he shut up immediately, looking down at their joined hands like he couldn't believe it.

"I can't shut up sometimes, sorry Lydia."

She stared at him and he backtracked.

"Unless your name isn't Lydia? I'm sorry, I just assumed because he was calling you that, but maybe that's not your real name and he was saying it to piss you off or-"

She cut him off. "My name is Lydia. I was just a little… surprised you were paying attention."

He flushed. "Yeah, I guess that's sort of creepy."

She smiled at him. "It's cute. Now tell me your name."

"Right." He straightened up and grinned unabashedly now, hand outstretched in front of him formally, and Lydia held back a giggle as a cough. She had a feeling this was the beginning of something great.

"Nice to meet you, Lydia. My name is Stiles, and I think you're beautiful and perfect so would you like to go out with me?"

And all she could do was nod.

A/N:IDK what this is, tbh lol, but I hope you enjoyed and will consider leaving a review so that I can LOVE YOU FOREVER. 3 I hope it was sufficiently fluffy. And I'm arrowcave on tumblr!