Shot Through The Heart pt. 2
Pairing: Stiles x OC Rating: NSFW Warning: Smut, smut, smut. Words: 1,869.
A/N. Here is part 2. Don’t be too harsh… K.
Mrs. McCall stitched you back up, and talked you into telling at least Stiles what was going on. The Sheriff had let you in as he was leaving for his night shift. He was working more and more of those lately, making you realize how much you and Stiles were alone regularly. Mrs. McCall had given you something that would ease the pain but make you less groggy so you could function better. She made you promise to take the good stuff if you really needed it.
You sat on Stiles’s bed, letting the meds kick in a little bit while taking in your surroundings. It felt like weeks since you had been in this room. It looked more like a room of a college student than a junior in high school. The supernatural stuff made you guys grow up a lot more. A smile crept up on your face, until you saw Lydia’s binder, and sweater lying on the floor. Being in pain and sitting in Stiles room with Lydia’s stuff was overwhelming. You were trying to keep yourself from crying when Stiles busted through his bedroom door.
“Y/n... “ He sat next to you, grabbing your hands. “Don’t tell me you are fine. Something is wrong… I… I know I shouldn’t have but... “ He didn’t have to say anything more. You knew he had been in your room. Why wouldn’t he. He was your best friend and you knew his habits. “So you found my shirt.” The nonchalant way the words fell off your lips seemed to make Stiles angry. “Yeah I found your shirt. Are you kidding me?! No one knew about this? You need a hospital!” You shook your head.
“I went and saw Mrs. McCall. I had to go again today because I tore my stitches.” Stiles just stared at you. “I didn’t tell anyone because it didn’t matter. I am fine.” You could feel the anger rolling off of Stiles. You wouldn’t need to be supernatural to feel it. He stood up, pacing his room. His hand viciously running through his hair. Which you had grown to love as it has grown. That is when you really started to look at him. Stiles looked tired, exhausted even but the concern that was all over his face was what got to you. He was truly mad about this. “You realize that you lost a lot of blood right? Like a lot, and you walked to the hospital from the warehouse, then I am assuming you walked home. None of which you should have done. I could have driven you! I WOULD have driven you. I asked if you were okay. I was told everyone was okay. YOU said you were good. Clearly you were not good. God… I could have been at the hospital with you.”
His last words were quiet, but you still heard them. “Stiles. It didn’t matter. I got to the hospital, and it wasn’t as bad as it could have been. It didn’t seem like I was anyone’s concern anyway until after I was gone. I got stitches in my chest and ribs. Nothing is broken it just hurts.” You couldn’t look at him, watching him run after Lydia today was enough. “I don’t understand why you are so mad. Yeah we are supposed to be best friends… but… I’m not Lydia.”
Your voice broke on the last words and Stiles stopped pacing. “What?” You stood up, you couldn’t be sitting here in his room and talking about Lydia. The tears were pricking your eyes and it was only a matter of time before the dam broke. “I’m not Lydia. I could be lying there on the floor dead and it wouldn’t matter because I am not Lydia freaking Martin.” Tears slid down your face as you turned away from him. Crossing your arms hurt your shoulder but you didn’t know what else to do.
There was a beat of silence before you felt Stiles’s hands on your sides, resting gently. “No. You are not Lydia Martin. You are Y/N Y/L/N. It would matter. It would matter so freaking much. You could have died. I would have been completely lost without you.” Stiles gently turned you so that you were facing him. “What’s going on? Really? Other than the obvious.”
You wiped your tears and looked at the floor. It is now or never. “I like you a lot Stiles. More than just hang out and watch tv, like… you are my Lydia Martin.” It seemed like Stiles suddenly got it. He pulled away from you and scrubbed his face with his hands. “I’m sorry. I’ll go.” As you turned to leave Stiles grabbed your good arm stopping you. “You are not my Lydia Martin. You are my Y/N Y/L/N. Lydia was a distraction from what I felt for you.”
Shock. That is what you felt. Stiles liked you back, more than liked you. He was angry because he almost lost you. “Why is her stuff in your room?” Stiles snorted. “She left it in the Jeep. I forgot to bring it to her today.” It made sense and you weren’t going to question it. “So uh… I saw your shirt.” Stiles looked nervous now. “Can I see?” You watched as his strong hands reached for the collar of your shirt, pushing it aside with the slightest brush of skin to skin contact. “I grabbed this arm earlier. I pulled your stitches.” You ignored him, and lifted the hem of your shirt to reveal your ribs and the bandage.
As his hand slid up your side you shivered. “Did that hurt?” His whiskey brown eyes held to your grey eyes. “No.” He examined the injuries and then pulled you into a hug resting your head on his collarbone. “I should probably get home.” You didn’t want to leave, but you didn’t really know if he wanted you to stay.
“And what, go home to an empty house? How long is Hank gone for this time?” You almost forgot he had been to your house. “Most likely three more weeks.” The angry tone was back in Stiles’s voice. “You are not staying there alone. You are sleeping here. I grabbed a bunch of clothes and stuff. You are staying here.” Before you could protest, Stiles was running down the stairs. When he got back he held one of the huge lacrosse bags he had given you a long time ago. With a quick glance through everything, you realized he grabbed just about everything you would need.
“I don’t have a shirt to sleep in.” You laughed but it was almost like a sigh. Stiles, ever the dutiful friend handed you his lacrosse shirt. Your favorite shirt of his. With your running shorts and his shirt in hand you went to change. When you came back into the bedroom Stile was typing something on his laptop. “I ordered pizza.” He turned and his mouth dropped. “What? Is… is something wrong?”
Stiles shook his head. “I never realized how much I wanted to see you wear my clothes.” He got up and walked toward you, and pressed his lips to yours. If he hadn’t been holding you up, you were pretty sure you would have collapsed right there on the floor. If you died right now, you would be content. “I have wanted to do that for so long.” He whispered as he pressed his forehead to yours. Instead of diving in like you figured he would, he hugged you. “Movie?” You nodded. “Good.” You climbed on his bed and got comfortable. After a few moments Stiles disappeared and came back wearing gym shorts, an old t-shirt and had pizza with a few drinks. It was like old times, sitting on his bed watching tv or a movie. Stiles knew you had wanted to watch the new Avengers movie, and it was already queued up.
Halfway through the movie Stiles had moved the food to his desk and pulled you into his side locking you in. The reality was you would have to watch the movie again because the last half was spent with Stiles’s tongue in your mouth. It felt like a dream, and you knew you would wake up any minute now. So taking a chance, you slid your hand down and palmed his growing erection. A groan left Stiles’s lips, then he suddenly pulled away. “Sorry, I just… I figured.” You were floundering. Maybe he didn’t want you that way.
Stiles gently lifted your face to look at him. “Don’t be sorry. I have been dreaming of that since the 5th grade. Believe me, control is not easy with you now that you are my girlfriend. But I can’t… not when you have stitches. I already tore them once. If we do this I could hurt you.” Watching him panting, trying to hold back was not helping you. All you wanted was him. “Your girlfriend?” Trying to lighten the mood. “I.. uh.. I mean..” You laughed. “Stiles. It was a joke, you were always better at the jokes. We could just… we could touch each other it won’t hurt anything.” You could watch his resolve break. “Ye-yeah… okay.”
His lips were back on yours as his hand slid beneath your shorts. When his fingers touched your core you whimpered. “You’re this wet because of me?” “Always. Watching you play lacrosse, watching you take down a big bad, watching you nerd out, watching you sass Derek.” A groan left Stiles and he slipped his fingers into you. Soft moans and whimpers filled the air as he hooked his fingers hitting you perfectly. His lips traveled to your neck, careful not to mark anything. When his thumb rubbed your bundle of nerves the knot in your stomach exploded. His name slipping from your lips before he captured them in his own.
Finally when you came down from your high, you noticed that Stiles was looking at you with a sense of awe. His expression only changed when your hand snaked beneath his shorts and boxers palming his large erection. “Shit.” Gripping him in your hand you stroked him until his eyes were rolling back in his head. “Fuck… Y/n… I’m…” His abs tightened and without hesitation you leaned down, pulling him into your mouth as he released. Your name filled the air as he filled your mouth. With a swallow you leaned back, feeling the ache in your stitches from moving so fast and carelessly. You winced a little when you laid back down. Stiles’s lips were on yours, tasting himself on you made him groan. “You… if I died right now…” That brought a smile to your face.
“Are you okay?” He really looked at you this time. Analyzing like he does. “Yeah, just… maybe moved a little too quick. I didn’t pull any stitches though.” He cupped your face, gently rubbing his thumb on your cheek. “Take it easy.”
As the credits rolled, Stiles pulled the covers over you and cuddled you. Sleeping like this was something you thought would only happen in your dreams. Honestly if you never woke up you would be okay with that.