VOID/STILES X READER 

OUR LITTLE SECRET (part three)

part one  part two

tagged: 18crazybutcutealsopsycho +  golddaggers + fox-in-a-mousetrap-8 +  lovelydob + savage-stilinski  +  actuallyivar

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The floor creakily shifted under the weight of their feet as they climbed the stairs of her house, sending a loud squeak echoing around the open space.

“Shh,” she hissed quietly, smacking Stiles’ chest with her palm.

“Right, sorry,” he clenched his teeth and awkwardly tried bringing himself to the top without being his usual clumsy mess on legs.

She got there first, grabbing his wrist and hoisting his body up as the stair let out a painfully loud lurch. Stiles cleared his throat softly and rubbed at his chin as if he didn’t hear it at all.

“Come on,” she rolled her eyes, indicating at the boy as she walked into her bedroom.

She flicked on her lights, illuminating her tiny room. A bed was smushed to one wall, pictures of her friends plastered over the other, an unnecessary amount of twinkling lights blazing from the string orbs that hung from her ceiling. She kicked her shoes onto the dark floor with a sigh, rubbing at her eyes as she sunk down on the edge of the soft layers of quilts draping over her bed. Stiles had been in the room before, but he stared at his surroundings like he was only absorbing it for the first time, his big brown eyes glittering from the lights.

“How long since you’ve been in here?” she arched her brows.

“That you were aware of? A couple weeks ago.”

“That I w-” she shook her head in confusion, “what?!”

“Uhh, I mean that,” Stiles scrunched his face with shame, “he’s been in here before.”

Her throat tightened suddenly, air refusing to enter her lungs as his words sunk in, “Void?”

He nodded, mumbling softly, “I didn’t want to do it, I swear.”

“No I know, Stiles,” she sighed, running her fingers through her sweaty hair.

“I know you have questions,” he began.

“Only about a million,” her lips twitched.

“I’ll try my best,” he soothed, running his tongue over his lips. “But for starters, it’s like I said, I had the smallest ounce of control. I mean I remember what he did, it just all comes through like a foggy blur. And I know what I felt because he’d feel that too and get upset when I tried pushing through.”

“So,” she cleared her throat, “do you uh, do you remember what happened before you…woke up?”

Stiles’ jaw hung loosely open, his breath noticeably catching in his parted lips as he drew his eyes away, “yeah.”

“Oh my god,” she rubbed at her temples, standing abruptly and suddenly feeling disgusted in her own skin.

Stiles caught sight of her terrified eyes and shaking fingers, his heart lurching at the sight.

“Hey,” he reached for her hands and shook his head when she stepped back, “it’s okay.”

“Is it?!” she said through a short gasp. “I mean, you were trapped in there and I just, I don’t know what I was thinking, but that wasn’t even you but you had to feel that and I just, I’m so sorry,” she rambled without stopping, feeling dizzy.

“(Y/N),” he tried quietly.

“You know what?” she sidestepped him, “I’m exhausted, and really…gross. So I’m gonna shower. You can have the bed, I’ll crash on the couch or something. There’s at least one of your hoodies in my closet,” she averted his eyes as she brushed past him and to the bathroom.

Stiles’ jaw hung open in defeat as she closed the door, a broken sigh emanating from his throat as he sunk down into her sheets, blinking around the room in bewilderment.

Her back hit the door as soon as she closed it, tears clawing at her eyes as she grabbed for the shower handles, setting the heat to scorching and throwing her clothes to the ground. She felt her breaths coming unsteadily, vision swimming as she grasped at the cold counter and met her own wet eyes in the reflection of the mirror. Looking at her naked body sent flashes of Void’s full lips, lidded eyes, and heavy breathing through her brain. She couldn’t seem to drown him out even when he was gone, fearing that he’d be back at any moment, fearing what she’d do if he did. She stumbled to the shower and stepped in, soaking her skin under the searing waterfall of water, her flesh turning red under the heat. She fumbled for her flowery soaps, lathering her body and hair with the scents until her skin was raw. But still, she could feel him on her. And so she went again, until every inch of him was scrubbed clean from her body. And then she went sinking onto the shower floor, letting each wave of her tears come free, her broken sobs pouring from her as she wept with no shame, letting every cry out until her eyes were raw and red, her fingers pruny, and the water cold. Once her breathing steadied, she stopped the water altogether and stepped out, drying herself slowly with a fluffy white towel before stepping into a grey knit sweater that touched her knees. Her eyes fell on the dark bruises on her neck and wrists, a stinging reminder that those wouldn’t be leaving anytime soon. She shook her hair out as she pushed the door open, chewing at her lip with agitation and catching sight of a crumpled body under her sheets. Her heart hammered through her ears as she walked slowly to the edge. What if he was under there? What if it wasn’t Stiles? She stopped and shook her head, feeling like an idiot as she turned around.

“(Y/N)?” his voice came quietly.

“Stiles?”

He rolled over, and even through the darkness she could make out his big familiar eyes.

“I can’t sleep,” he said with embarrassment.

“Oh.”

‘I probably won’t be able to either,’ she thought to herself.

“This is gonna sound stupid,” he grumbled and rolled to his back.

“What?” she said reassuringly.

“You don’t have to, really. But I kind of don’t want to be alone right n-”  he began, surprised when he felt the bed shift almost immediately.

She was already climbing in beside him, lying on her back and staring at the ceiling as she pulled her big sheets to her chin.

“I don’t want to be alone either,” she whispered to the sky.

“O-Okay,” he stammered softly, rolling to his side to face her.

She mimicked him, her eyes locking with his in the dark as they stared at each other.

“Is he gone?” she said weakly.

Stiles swallowed, his answer soft, “I don’t know.”

She nodded, unsurprised.

“I’m scared he’s not,” he admitted. “I’m scared of everything right now.”

She grabbed his hand under the sheet, steadying him and giving him a small smile, “hey.”

“What?” he breathed.

“I’m going to be here for you, always,” she promised.

He nodded, eyes flickering over her face, a tiny grin settling on his pink lips.

“I missed seeing that,” she referenced his smile with a contempt sigh, her sleep deprivation weighing down on her as she absorbed Stiles’ glowing and colorful face.

“Yeah?” he snickered quietly.

“Yeah.”

She rolled away from him, letting out a long sigh and shifting unsteadily under the sheets. She heard him do the same, yet, minutes later, he still rustled quietly with unease.

“You still awake?” she mumbled faintly.

“Mhhm,” he groaned into his pillow.

She re-adjusted her face, locks of hair spilling over the cushion in a halo shape as she pressed her cheek to the feathery surface. Her eyes burned from tiredness and tears. Her fingers twitched with restlessness. Her throat ached from her raw screams and cries. Her whole body felt on edge.

Then, after another moment had passed, she felt the shape next to her move. So slowly, a body edged into her back, a breath tingled down her neck, an arm wrapped around her waist. Stiles molded his body into a perfect shape against her curves, his muscular chest so tight against her back that she could feel his heartbeat echoing through her bones. His large veiny hand snaked over her belly, his lips finding themselves nuzzled into her hair.

The world seemed to lurch under his touch before coming to an altogether stop.

“Is this okay?” Stiles mumbled sleepily into her ear, his voice thicker than syrup.

“Y-yeah,” she stuttered, swallowing the lump in her throat.

He let out a noise of gentle contempt, both their heartbeats racing through the silent room.

Her eyes drifted down, and she shakily brought her fingers across to Stiles’ hand, where, gingerly, she laced her fingers through his slender ones and brought them up to her chest, nuzzling her back into the boy and letting her eyes flutter close.

And suddenly sleep came easily.

…

“Are you insane?”

“It’ll work!”

“Uh huh.”

“Don’t ‘uh huh’ me, asshole.”

“Uh huh.”

“Stiles!”

The girl threw her pillow into the boy’s chest, and he didn’t even flinch as it slammed into his front.

“I just came back from that maniac trance and your first idea is to take me to a party?” he snickered as he said it.

“Don’t say it like that! Scott will be so happy to see you!” she pouted, her legs folded over the mattress she sat across from Stiles on.

“The last time Scott saw me he was trying to kill me,” Stiles pursed his lips.

“Not you,” she corrected.

“And how exactly do you plan on explaining to him how I came back, huh?” Stiles arched a brow.

“I’ll tell him….” she trailed off, staring distantly at a ray of light catching in her curtains.

“Tell him that you fucked me back to life?”

He’d said it without thinking, a big grin spreading over his smug face as he absorbed his own words. Her cheeks burned red as she grabbed for another pillow and tried pathetically to bash the giggling boy with it.

“Shut. Up.” she snorted in embarrassment, pushing Stiles onto his back.

“Make me,” he grabbed her flailing hands and held them above her head with a laugh.

She ducked her fingers out in time to grab the cushion and press it gently to Stiles’ face, but he’d barely been under for a second when he started writhing and tapping urgently at her wrist for air, a muffled cry coming from beneath her.

“Stiles?!” she said, tossing the object aside at once with a pang of worry.

He calmed after a deep breath, his big eyes appearing panicked as he shivered, the boy nauseous from barely a second under it.

“Sorry,” he gulped seriously, rolling off the bed and swinging his legs over the side of the mattress, hands rubbing at his freckled face with distress.

An empty silence momentarily filled the room as she observed the boy with caution.

“No, I’m sorry, that was-” she started.

“Felt like I was suffocating,” he cut her off. “Like I couldn’t breathe when I was under there,” he mumbled distantly.

“Under?” she asked, sliding beside him.

“Underneath his control,” his sad hazel orbs flickered up.

“I-” she shook her head with grief, “I swear it won’t happen again, I shouldn’t have done that.”

“You didn’t know,” he shrugged lightly.

Her hand went to his knee, brushing against him without thought. Stiles’ throat rumbled with surprise, and it hit her how natural it’d been to touch him but how ‘Stiles like’ it was for him to be taken aback by that. That only brought her thinking about the night before; not a word had been uttered about their slumber in each other’s arms. That wasn’t like them either. But it was driven by their fear and loneliness, she assumed.

“I missed you,” he said, breaking her train of thought. “I didn’t get to say it before,” he realized, “but I really missed you.”

“Oh?” she pulled her hands into her lap.

“Now’s when you say you missed me too,” he said out of the corner of his mouth.

“Right!” she laughed, fully snapping to reality and staring into his face, upon which sunlight dazzled over his nose and jaw, “I missed you too, Stiles.”

“Good,” he said, “I’ll keep that in mind as I get ready for this stupid party.”

…

They’d spent all hours of the day in her house, because, though he wouldn’t admit it, Stiles seemed terrified of leaving their safe haven and facing the real world again. Even eating food, what used to be a natural talent of his, seemed like he had to put effort into it. She also knew that it must have taken every ounce of his willpower to go to the Beacon Hills Game after party, which seemed like a ridiculous affair, but one that they’d blend easily into.

“You know, I’m not big on parties!” Stiles grumbled obnoxiously from her bedroom. ‘It’ll be fun!’ he mimicked the girl in a high pitched voice, ‘Scott will be so happy to see you!’

“I’ll come out there if you don’t cut it out, Stilinski!” she hollered from the bathroom.

“Good, you’re taking forever!” he yelled back.

“Stiles, I swear to god-” she threw the door open with impatience. “I will-”

She stopped her words mid sentence, staring at the dumbfounded boy who wore one of his trademark red flannels and ripped skinnies, his chocolate brown hair a finger combed mess on top of his head.

“What?” she asked as he froze.

“N-Nothing-” he blabbered and cleared his throat. “You just look,” he indicated at her cropped navy top and perfectly normal black jeans with a wave of his hand, “phew. You know?”

“Do I know?” she laughed as she turned away, Stiles slapping himself against the head as soon as she ducked back into the bathroom.

“Idiot,” he mumbled, stopping in front of her mirror. “You,” he pointed into the glass, “big idiot.”

“Did you say something?” she called out to the boy.

“Wha- NO!” he said back as he turned and promptly tripped on the air and went crashing to the floor.

She slinked out after a long pause, chewing at her lip to prevent herself from laughing as she stared at the bashful boy who was sprawled on her floorboards. It was impossible to imagine that the void could still be lurking somewhere inside that idiot. It was impossible to imagine why a part of her hoped he was.

…

His hands trembled lightly against the steering wheel of his jeep, his eyes straight forward. They’d been in his car a couple of minutes, sitting idly by as the house beside them produced loud thumps of music. The vehicle was filled with the aroma of the greasy fries and burgers they’d stuffed into their faces on the ride over, and the mess littered his car. Yet, after the excitement of Stiles being reunited with his one true love, his jeep, had worn off, an eerie silence had filled the space.

“You know,” her eyes narrowed with sadness. “Maybe this was stupid.”

“Hm?” his big eyes flickered out of his trance and to her face.

“I should have thought this through more. I mean, this is your first time getting back to the real world since you, you know, snapped out of your trance. I didn’t really account for how hard this could be on you.”

“No, no,” he waved his hand passively, “it’s fine (Y/N). It’s just a little nerve wrecking,” he sighed.

She shrugged and grabbed their cola, taking a sip and leaning her head back. 

“Well, if you’d rather sit in this car all night and gorge yourself, I am happy to oblige, Mr. Stilinski.”

His lips twitched as he grabbed the cup from her hands, going to take a sip and pulling a face when nothing came up. 

“Really?” he scoffed, throwing the empty drink at her as she ducked the flying object with a laugh. He tilted his head with amusement, “as great as that sounds, I’ll have to face them eventually, and I’d rather do it now where we blend in and I have you.”

“You’d have me either way,” she smiled.

“Mhm?”

“That’s what friends are for.”

Stiles gave a slow nod and bent his face away, “yeah.”

“Ooh wait!” she cut the momentary silence and threw the door open before skipping over to Stiles’ side of the car and pulling his own door open for him with a curt bow, “sir.”

“You’re ridiculous,” he snorted, taking her extended hand and stepping out of the jeep nonchalantly.

“So what?” she amused him as they walked to the front entrance and past an array of flowering garden plants.

“So, I like it,” he decided, turning to look at her.

The pale pink light of the setting sun cast lights over their skin as they stopped at the opened door together.

“Ready?”

“Ready.”

The swell of loud bass and overplayed pop music swarmed them at once. Groups of teens hung around the crowded room, some dancing, others chattering, plastic red cups attached to their palms. An array of cheaply made crimson banners lined the walls, with dashes of glittering silver confetti thrown over the floor. Hardly a face turned to the two as they slid between the crowds of people and into the opening of the living room, which directly led into the big backyard. Groups of people dotted the bright green grass, others lounging beside the cooly lit pool, and a big table where bottles of god knows what sat was surrounded by students.

“There!” she said, pointing.

“Ohhh god,” Stiles mumbled as she eased her way through the living room and out into the garden, where Scott, Allison, Lydia, and Isaac sat together under a large tree, their bodies hunched in conversation.

The dirt sunk under her shoes, Stiles following cautiously behind her as she stopped beneath the large leafy branches and cleared her throat, “hey.”

Their heads snapped up at once, eyes confused, and for a moment nobody said anything.

“Stiles?” Isaac registered, his mouth hanging open.

Scott shot up at once, stepping forward with no hesitation.

“Hey, hey, dude, it’s me!” Stiles stumbled back and waved his hands in surrender.

Scott’s eyes  were fiery as he gave a slow step forward, his stare darting over his friend, “Stiles?”

“In the flesh,” he responded awkwardly.

Scott shifted his focus to the girl, who smiled nervously.

“How did this happen?” Lydia asked.

“It’s a long story,” she responded, fidgeting with the edge of her blue top.

“Well, we’re here to hear it!” Allison breathed with relief and extended her arms to Stiles for a hug.

A group chatter ensued as they all embraced him and babbled with mingled enthusiasm and confusion. All except Scott, who kept his distance with a weary glance. The last rays of violet sunshine vanished, the white moonlight assuming its place in the sky as they sat down. The occasional leaf would trickle from the branches like rain over their heads.

“When did this happen?” Isaac put forward.

“Yesterday.”

“And where’s the nogitsune? Is he still here? Did you split bodies? Is he really gone? How’d you do it?”

The questions from all sides made the girl drowsy, and Stiles visibly distraught.

“He’s still a little out of it guys,” she eased in. “Can we save this for a little later and just give the guy a second to breathe?”

The group murmured consent, and Stiles’ hazel eyes met hers as he gave her a grateful nod.

“Well I’d love to hear it right now,” Scott put forward harshly. “Go on, won’t you?”

His brown eyes crinkled with suspicion, the lump in Stiles’ throat hardening as he struggled to produce any answers.

“I tortured him,” the girl interjected as Stiles’ mouth hung open.

“What?”

“Yesterday, after you left me with him, I uh, hit him, cut him.”

Stiles gave an encouraging nod and pointed to his throat, where a thin red line from his blade had met his skin.

“Clearly he put up a fight,” Allison soothed, “look at your wrists!”

The girl glanced down at the purple markings around her hands.

“And your throat, oh my god!” Lydia covered her mouth.

“Uh, yes. Yeah. Yep,” she nodded, keeping her eyes away from Stiles’ visibly reddening face. “That’s what that’s from. He um, choked me, and grabbed me,” she stumbled convincingly, conveniently leaving out the part where she mentioned that his lips were what left markings.

“So, how did that bring him back?” Scott asked.

“Well, he had me, so I…picked up a chair and slammed it over his head. He passed out cold. When he woke up, I was about to call you to come take care of him, but he opened his eyes and they were…”

She stopped, locking her gaze to Stiles’ glittering honey colored iris.’ She went into a momentary trance in his wide caramel eyes, her words lost to his gaze. He rubbed his slender fingers over his jaw with subtle agitation, his breath catching as she froze up.

“They were normal. And I just woke up and felt like I’d been asleep a long time; I had no idea what was going on,” he finished.

“Wow,” Isaac breathed.

“What about the nogitsune, is it dead?” Scott said with disbelieving undertones.

“No clue,” Stiles shrugged.

Scott moved his attention to (Y/N), looking her up and down with skepticism, “can I talk to you?”

She cleared her throat, glancing over at Stiles with worry before giving a little nod, “yeah.”

He stood up from his chair, offering her a hand as he pulled her gently aside and behind a flowering bush that shielded them from the bustling parties view. Little white flowers sprung from the green leaves, and the night hung shadows over Scott’s face. The girl took in a shaky breath, breathing in the pleasant floral scents. As soon as they were out of sight, he turned.

“Are you okay?” he soothed quietly.

“What? Me? Yeah, of course,” she said with confusion.

“Really?” he whispered, grabbing her wrist gently and rubbing his thumb against her purple marked skin.

“I’m fine, Scott,” her eyes fell to his fingers before drawing back up to his bronzed face.

“Then why do I feel like something’s off? That Stiles is not that guy sitting over there?” he asked.

“H-he is,” she stammered.

His eyes flickered over her face with worry, and after a long pause, he said “Is he making you do this?”

“Do what?” she laughed nervously.

“Lie to me.”

“I’m not, Scott,” she breathed shakily as he dropped her wrists, his hand running down her arm as he did so.

She swallowed nervously, taking a small step back, “everything is fine.”

“Something happened last night, something you’re not spitting out,” he said with an edge to his voice.

“It’s like I told y-”

“What did he do?!” he barked, his eyes flashing over red with anger.

“Hey, hey, calm down,” she begged.

But his werewolf senses were creeping in, and the last thing she needed was a rampant mythical creature making a scene at the party.

“(Y/N),” he warned dangerously, his fangs creeping in as his carnal anger only grew.

“I’m telling you the tr-”

“WHAT DID HE DO?!”

“Noth-”

“DON’T LIE TO ME!”

“I kissed him!” she fired back, cutting him off and causing a sharp silence to fill the air.

If not for the chatter of kids and loud music, their voices would have been broadcasted to the whole party. The sound of chirping crickets filled the empty abyss of their voices.

He tilted his head, eyes filling with…hurt?

“You what?”

“I-just-listen–” she started, placing a hand to his chest as he stepped forward. “I can explain-”

At that moment, Stiles’ went sprinting around the corner, his pale face worried, hands stuffed into the pockets of his red flannel, “(Y/N)? I thought I heard you, is everything okay?!”

She turned, her back against Scott as she stared blankly at Stiles.

“Stiles, I’m sorry,” she closed her eyes, clenching her teeth together.

“What’s u-”

Before he could finish, Scott went bounding forward, his fist swinging through the air and connecting with Stiles’ face.

“DON’T!” she begged, grabbing for Scott.

But he pushed her easily away, fist colliding with the boy again.

“STOP!” she screamed hoarsely, throwing herself between the two boys, her hair flying around her face.

“SCOTT!” she said forcefully, blocking Stiles’ body with her own, her chest heaving as she glared him down.

“What the hell do you think you were doing?” he growled at them both.

“Leave him out of this,” she snapped.

Stiles groaned out softly, his big eyes widening as he clutched at his bloodied face.

“It wasn’t even him, okay?!” she said with desperation. “It wasn’t Stiles. Stiles and I aren’t like that.”

Scott paused, taking in huge gulps of air, “but you and that monster? That’s better?”

“He’s more than that,” she tried through her faltering speech.

“Are you insane?!” his brows arched. “What were you thinking?!”

Stiles let out a low whimper, rubbing at the trail of crimson on his cheek, “guys-”

“I don’t know, but it worked, didn’t it?”

“At what cost?”

“Why do you care so much?”

“Liste-” Stiles tried faintly, his words drowned out.

“You let that monster do that to you?”

“I was just starting to dig deeper into him, ok?! I think there’s things we don’t know about him yet-”

“Yet? Are you saying he’s still out there?”

“I don’t know.”

“NO!” Stiles’ shrill voice rang out as he screamed, collapsing into the grass, the green blades forming a halo around his body, flowers dotted around his trembling form. His head lulled to the side, eyes slamming shut.

“Stiles?”

He began twitching. First his fingers, then his hands, arms, and torso. It was like a magical sensation was running through the course of his body. He let out a lowly gasping noise as he convulsed.

“Stiles?!” She dropped down beside him, grabbing the boy by his shoulders.

Scott sunk down too, brows arched.

Stiles shook violently once more before going still altogether. Then his eyes flew open, and a single word tumbled off his quivering lips.

“Run.”

And the first scream rang out through the darkness.

PART FOUR