As promised, the final sense - taste, in a not-so-creepy context.

WARNING: This is a little intimate - nothing too graphic or mature, just teen rated stuff.


Taste.

Her lips taste like coconut he's decided. It's taken him a while to figure out he'll admit, he has been distracted in all fairness, but yes, coconut. It must be her lip gloss. He likes it, he likes coconut.

The taste of her lips is quite overwhelming for him, after all these years of wondering what she'd taste like, making guess after guess, he thought he might be disappointed, that after all that time she'd taste like nothing special, just like a chemical combination from her lip gloss. He was not disappointed.

Coconut was her usual taste, he liked coconut, and he told her so. But every once in a while, she'd mix it up, throw him off, since she knew he noticed. Kiwi was another prime flavour for her, he didn't like that as much, though he preferred the darker look her lips got when she wore that flavour - colour.

Her lips were divine to him, the most heavenly taste in the world, but if he were honest he loved the way every part of her tasted.

The skin of her neck, where her hair rested all day and was pushed away from all night always tasted faintly of apple. He suspected the taste was more to do with the smell of her hair, some sort of illusion of taste through scent. He'd take it anyway, her neck, her shoulders, the ticklish bit of flesh behind her ear were some of his favourite places to put his lips, the apple flavour was an added bonus to her moans.

The rest of her however, the rest of her skin, tasted like a mixture of raspberry and something more nutty, a musky sort of taste that he couldn't place. She told him it was her moisturisers (and he had questioned the plural) but figured she was right, he had seen her use many a time two lotions on her silky skin, Raspberry Cream Body Lotion and Shea Butter. He had no idea what they did and why she needed both.

Sometimes he even wondered if he would get ill, consuming traces of lotions and shampoo and lip gloss, but she had a way of making him not care.

The taste of her was overwhelming, palatable even, he craved the very essence of her. He thinks he might be addicted. But the taste he got of her every night and every day was just celestial, transcendent, sacred even. The taste of her had a way of making his heat pounce into his throat, everything about her pours into his very being and he just can't get enough.

He loves the way she tastes. He loves everything to do with her.

She knows this, of course she knows this, he somehow manages to tell her every day. But he struggles with the words, he really does, he says it all with his eyes, with his actions.

After all, it's hard to breathe with Lydia Martin in your lungs.


Lydia rolled on top of him, pinning him down with not only her body but her stare, "What is it?" She asked, "What's bothering you?"

Stiles looks at her, dead in the eye, then his eyes travel to her lips and she thinks it might all be alright, but then he looks away again. "Nothing," Stiles tells her, "Don't worry about it." He lifts his head to kiss her half-heartedly, but Lydia pulls away fast.

"Oh no you don't," she whispers to him, leaning away but pressing her dress-clad body closer, "Not till you tell me what's wrong."

Stiles sighs, "It's stupid."

Lydia pays no attention, instead she watches him watch her, their eyes staring deep into one another's. But this wasn't a loving stare, this was a mini battle of minds, Lydia vs Stiles. She wanted to know, he didn't want to tell her. Stiles knew he wouldn't win.

But he did hold his own, it's a good five minutes before he cracks, lifting his hand to smudge her lip gloss away with the tip of his thumb. He's quite rigorous with the action, to the point where Lydia knows this isn't some meaningless gesture or tactic, he wanted that lipstick gone.

"Is this because I'm wearing kiwi flavoured lip gloss?" Lydia inquired innocently, laughing slightly.

Stiles looked at her intently, "I knew you'd find it stupid."

Lydia had to control her laughing - fast. It took a lot longer than she hoped but she got there in the end, and then she looks to Stiles, "Explain it to me then."
"You're coconut," He said, "That's just you. I spent so many years wondering what you'd taste like and it turns out to be coconut, which I really like. I don't like kiwi lipstick as much, it's just not you."

Lydia smiled, jumped off of him and made her way over to her bag, removing a lip gloss and applying. "There we go, coconut." And when she was done, she jumped back onto the bed. Stiles smiled and flipped them over, leaning in to kiss her.

Needless to say that Lydia only ever brought flavourless lipstick for the rest of her life, and applied her colourless coconut over the top.

Oh, and she was nicknamed Coconut from then on.


And there it is readers, the short and sweet final chapter. I hoped you've enjoyed reading as much as I've loved writing. Please review and favourite, it all means so much to me!