#teen wolf comfort fics
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hi
send in a request for inspo plz
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He freezes. Doesn't know what the hell else to do.
He can't picture it: Derek can't remember the last time somebody put their arms around him.
Was it Laura?
Of course it was Laura. How could he forget that? Derek has gotten pretty good at blocking things out—a little too good, it seems.
She didn't tell him anything before leaving New York. Didn't say a fucking word, just up and vanished. Derek had woken up one morning and she was gone, because she'd known without a shadow of a doubt that Derek would've only followed her if she'd have said a single word to him.
Nobody ever granted Derek’s wishes, no matter who he prayed to. Those desperate pleas where he asked to go back and get a chance to fix things, they all went unheard.
Laura left to go back to the place they both wished still existed just as it had; a place they were wanted alive, not dead. It wasn't fair that it was the very same place they would be hunted down if they did return, like the rabid animals the Argent's presumed they were.
Leaving the way they did meant they hadn't gotten the chance to see if anything was left at the house. They couldn't even mark graves, and grieve properly.
That same place also happened to be the place they'd been born, the place they'd grown up and called home.
Derek had never wanted Laura to face all of that alone.
The burnt down house. The nothing where there was once everything.
The thought still haunts him. One of so many.
Beacon Hills is home—but it's the home Derek had helped raze to the ground with his selfishness and stupidity. Everything he and Laura had ever known, everyone they'd ever loved, it was all gone, now. Derek had taken those things away from his sister and hadn't even had the guts to tell her. Tell Laura they were all gone because of him, tell her that everything that had happened to their family, to them, was all his fault.
In the aftermath of the fire Laura hugged Derek, and had kept hugging him, over and over in those weeks and months and years that followed. She would pull him into her arms hold him tight, whenever she could sense it was all getting to be too much for him again.
Alpha.
Big sister.
But Laura only knew about some of the reasons why it sometimes felt like too much effort for Derek to keep on breathing.
He never told her about Kate.
And Derek, the fucking coward, he'd allowed Laura to hold him, feeling the flames of shame on his cheeks every time, hot as those that took the lives of his parents. His family. His pack.
Now, he remembers that last time.
“I'm going out.”
Laura stood up, walked around the two mismatched armchairs and stopped him by throwing both her arms around his neck, pulling him into her and hugging him, scenting him.
It always took him a moment to respond these days, but Derek hugged her back.
“What's this for?”
“You. Because I know whomever's bed you end up in tonight, you won't be asking for one of these.”
Oh, fuck no. Derek couldn't handle that. Did she think he was out sleeping with people? Never again, not after…
He pushed his sister off him, gently; a stark contrast to the harsh words that followed.
“Don't fucking coddle me. And fuck you, Laura—I don't sleep in anybody's bed but my own.” A single mattress on the floor of the lounge of their shitty one bedroom apartment. Derek had so many shameful memories, and crawling into his sister's bed every night for the first year after the fire was one of them. “Just—leave me alone.”
Laura was the one—the only—person Derek had left in the entire world, yet his guilt was constantly pushing her away.
“Where do you go to, little brother? You might not be clinging to me anymore, night after night, nightmare after nightmare, but you're rarely in your own bed most mornings.”
She hadn't meant it as a dig. Derek knew that. She was his sister, and she loved him.
Maybe she thought he was making progress? Seeing people. Moving on.
Derek spent his nights waiting outside of dive bars, and hanging around in back alleys and dark places, desperate to find scumbags to taunt who were big enough and hard enough to at least attempt to kick the living shit out of him.
Derek hated being a werewolf, now. He wanted to get hurt and stay hurt.
“Just—out.”
Then Derek turned his back on Laura, leaving her to stand there and watch him walk away as he left her to go out looking for a fight, without looking back.
That was the last time somebody put their arms around Derek—and the last time he saw his sister alive.
It was two years ago. Derek doesn’t think he has taken a full breath, since.
Now here he is—standing in his stupid big loft that he bought for his betas, yet another pack he managed to destroy—having given away more than he should, with skinny yet strong arms wrapping as far around his shoulders as they'll reach.
Stiles.
“You don't have to hug back. But you can, if you want to. I won't tell,” the kid jokes. It's his way to connect, his connection to the world. A coping mechanism, Derek thinks.
He knows all about those.
“I…” he doesn't have the first fucking clue of how to handle this. Or how to admit he needs it—to himself, let alone somebody else. He doesn't know how to admit that he wants it.
But this is Stiles. The one person in Derek's life who seems, for some unfathomable reason, to give a fuck about Derek. To care about him.
Slowly, very slowly, Derek lifts an arm and awkwardly rests a hand on Stiles's upper back, feels the muscles jump slightly under the kid's baggy clothes as he tentatively spreads his fingers and finds the back of Stiles's neck.
Stiles's voice hitches just a touch as he says, “These can be on tap, you know. If you want them. Stilinski hugs are the best hugs, dude. Believe.”
And Derek finds he does believe. For the first time in forever, Derek believes there could be something good in his life again.
More confidently, now, he brings his other arm up to wrap around Stiles's waist and hugs Stiles tighter, properly, and allows himself to be hugged back.
Derek wonders how he has gone so long without this kind of closeness. Lived without this kindness.
He decides to let the 'dude' pass. Because maybe—maybe it wouldn't be so bad after all, to be somebody's dude?
Stiles's dude.
It's a fucking ridiculous moniker and yet Derek suddenly couldn't care less.
“I think I'd like that,” he whispers into the forbidden place where Stiles's jaw meets long, pale neck. "Dude."
Derek can feel Stiles's smile as the kid squeezes him harder. And, ironically, Derek feels as if he can breathe again.
.
for @greyhavenisback bc i want to hug you in person and can't <3 (unedited, forgive me!)
#sterek#sterek ficlet#sterek fic#sterek oneshot#POV derek#derek hale#stiles stilinski#derek x stiles#stiles x derek#m/m#queer fic#teen wolf#teen wolf fic#sterek fanfic#sterek fanfiction#teen wolf fanfic#teen wolf fanfiction#fanfiction#fanfic#fic#laura hale#derek and laura#hale pack feels#angst#hurt/comfort#hugs#derek hale deserves nice things#stiles stilinski is a nice thing#tcats writes#teencopandthesourwolf
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I'm looking Sterek. It was probably after the Nogitsune. Stiles was taking this hard. The pack had no interest in him. His father avoided him. Stilem begins to spend time with Derek and they become closer. Stiles moves in with Derek and for several months no one, not even his father, notices. I remember in this story Stiles left notes on the fridge for his dad or something so that the Sheriff knew where he was, but the Sheriff never noticed them.
AND
Anonymous asked:
Im looking Sterek. The story takes place after the Nogitsune. Chris is still grieving the loss of Allison, so he keeps following Stiles and keeping an eye on him because he is afraid that the Nogitsune will return. Derek finds out about this and somehow starts talking to Stiles and they get closer. I remember that Stilem himself was afraid, so he didn't mind Chris following him.
Hi! @midnightwinterhawk and @jigglepug says it's this one for both!
The One You Choose by Asterekmess (Livinginfictions)
(7/7 I 13,495 I Mature I Sterek)
Stiles hadn’t seen Scott in over a week, except for glances he caught during school hours.
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there is definitely not enough sterek au with young jock derek in secret relationship with nerd stiles *plot happening* sheriff finds out friends find out
i don't know why but i love secret relationships and stiles and derek being the same age
#derek hale#stiles stilinski#sterek#teen wolf fanfiction#teen wolf fic#teen wolf#fluff#angst#ao3#ao3 fanfic#hurt/comfort#derek hale x stiles stilinski#derek x stiles#young derek hale
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Sorry but in the most feminist way, König is an alpha male. I can’t help myself
#konig#konig x reader#konig call of duty#konig cod#cod mw2#konig mw2#konig fic#konig imagine#konig headcanons#lychee speaks#könig modern warfare 2#cod könig#I’m sorry but he is an alpha male#fuck andrew tate I hate him but I’m sorry konig is an alpha male#konig is the only man I am comfortable calling an alpha male#I’m watching teen wolf if that adds any context lol
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You’re not a whore
A/N this is another selfish fic because my life sucks sometimes and I need my book/tv boyfriends to comfort me
Stiles x reader
My mother always had a way to make me feel like shit. Whether it’s having a go at me for my grades or telling me how useless I am. Today she chose my outfit, and fuck does that hurt.
I spent ages picking this outfit and I actually felt cute in it, something that is really rare for me. The top I’m wearing is a bit boob-y and has an annoying habit of sliding down ever so slightly occasionally, but I wore a big jacket over the top of it to wrap around myself as well as making sure to keep an eye on the top so that I could pull it up if anything happened.
When I got to school my boyfriend wrapped his arms around me from behind, pressing kisses to my shoulder, neck and face, something that is not unusual. He complimented my outfit, making my confidence boost even more, and walked me to class while holding my class.
The rest of my day was good, fairly uneventful and I was able to go home a little early after going to the garage with my car briefly.
When I got home is when it happened. I let my mum know what the man at the garage said so that she was updated and she seemed fairly normal. Then she looked up from the TV to look at me briefly and said, “The men at the garage were probably all staring at your boobs” with a half laugh which told me enough. The worst part is my dad was sat right there listening to us.
I was so embarrassed and felt so degraded so I went straight up to my room, taking the top off and putting the biggest jumper I could find on and not leaving my room. I felt so dejected, every part of me now telling me I’m some kind of slut.
After an hour of lying in bed, doing nothing but sitting and letting my mind spiral, I hear a knock on my window. I forgot he was coming over tonight.
I put on my best smile and open the window letting him in and watching him jump down onto my floor. “Hey-” he starts then pauses for a moment, “what’s wrong?” He asks, always the perceptive one.
“Nothing! I’m fine, did you bring everything?” I ask trying to deter the conversation away from me, but he seems determined to get to the bottom of this.
“Yeah… but you’ve obviously been crying.” That surprises me, I reach my hand up to feel my cheeks and sure enough there are tears.
“Oh. I didn’t even notice.”
“Did something happen? Did someone upset you?” Stiles asks, already stepping closer and making me feel safer now he’s here.
“It’s nothing, my mum just, um, made a comment about my outfit today.” I try to say casually, not looking up at him.
“What kind of comment?” He asks, knowing how my mum can be.
“She said that she thinks all the men at the garage were staring at my…” I indicate, not wanting to say the word, too embarrassed by the whole thing.
“Jesus.” He mutters under his breath, making me look up at him. “You deserve better than that. It’s your choice what you wear, you’re not a child.”
I nod but I still feel doubtful. “But what if she has a point? I’m practically inviting something to happen.”
“What?? No you aren’t, you’re wearing clothes. That’s it. Whether you were wearing that or joggers and a jumper, people are creeps, I hate it but it’s true, and that is not your fault.” I can see him getting really fired up about this, which does reassure me a bit.
I look down again though not wanting to see his face when I say this, “She just made me feel like some cheap whore. Which is stupid because sex work is real work and I think it’s amazing-” Stiles stops me from my ramblings by placing both of his hands on my shoulders.
“I know what you mean. And you are not a whore. Your mum just… I don’t know but she’s wrong, and she shouldn’t have said that. You’re beautiful and I love you, okay?” He makes sure I can see how much he believes in what he’s saying, it makes me almost start crying again.
“Thank you.” I mutter and pull him into a hug, wanting to feel his arms wrapped around me.
After holding him tight for a little while we get set up for our evening and snuggle in bed together watching a movie. He holds me tight and gives me occasional kisses on the top of my head making me feel a little giddy inside. I don’t even realise I’ve fallen asleep until I wake up in the middle of the night to find Stiles holding onto me like I’m his entire lifeline, reminding me that I’m loved even if my mother can’t accept it.
#stiles stilinski fluff#stiles stilinski x reader#stiles x y/n#stiles x reader#stiles fluff#teen wolf fic#teen wolf#comfort#comfort fic
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Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Teen Wolf (TV) Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Derek Hale & Stiles Stilinski, Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski Characters: Stiles Stilinski, Derek Hale Additional Tags: can be read either romantic or platonic, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Nogitsune Arc (Teen Wolf), Post-Nogitsune Stiles Stilinski, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Feels, Angst with a Happy Ending, Pretending, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Breaking down, Mental Breakdown, Tears, Crying, Comfort, Hugging, Stiles Stilinski Deserves Nice Things, Derek Hale is a Nice Thing, Past Abuse, Past Violence, only mentioned - Freeform, Trauma Bonding, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Stiles Stilinski Has PTSD, Derek Hale Has PTSD, Emotions, Emotional Baggage, past emotional/psychological abuse, Hopeful Ending, Mental Health Issues, Anger, Bad Friend Scott McCall (Teen Wolf), Bad Pack Alpha Scott McCall (Teen Wolf) Summary:
After Void, Stiles is pretending, pretending to be fine, to be functional, to be human. Derek is having none of that.
#post nogitsune#stiles stilinski#hurt/comfort#coping mechanism#breakdown#emotional baggage#ptsd#mental issues#hopeful ending#derek hale x stiles stilinski#derek x stiles#hale x stilinski#teen wolf#sterek#sterek fic#sterek fanfiction#teen wolf fic#teen wolf fanfiction#derek hale#support#ao3#writer#fanfiction#mental health
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rated: t | words: 4.7k | read on ao3
summary:
His arms were wrapping around Liam’s neck in a manner that had become all too common for him, Theo pulling Liam in close as bullets began to fly their way.
The elevator doors suddenly got their shit together, closing just as he pulled Liam over the threshold, the two falling into one another, Theo with his back against the wall.
Theo couldn’t hear anything except their combined erratic beating hearts, Liam’s familiar scent filling his nostrils.
It took him, and Liam it seemed, a moment to realize they were tangled up together, one of Theo’s arms still protectively wrapped around Liam, the beta all but in his lap.
Liam quickly shrugged him off and made to stand, beelining for the buttons, his claws tapping at the hold button. Theo stayed where he was, looking up at Liam.
“What’re you doing here?” Liam all but shouted, more freaked out at the situation than angry with Theo.
Theo scoffed. “I was just about to ask myself the same thing.”
—or—
6x20 but with thiam getting that kiss they should’ve had
tagging my thiam wife @honestlydarkprincess 😘 if anyone else is wants to be tagged when i post thiam content, just lmk!
#thiam#thiam fic#theo raeken#liam dunbar#teen wolf#teen wolf fic#thiam fanfic#first kiss#blood and injury#hurt/comfort#idiots in love#kel(s) writing
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Small But Good (Sneak Peek)
I am once again displaying the inability to keep things short! This, too (like the Steter fic that turned into a multiple chapter fic, or the 1.5k Sterek fic that grew into 18k) was supposed to be short but as I am currently clocking in at 6k and they BARELY got from the warehouse to Peter's penthouse, I have decided to, once again, make my inability everybody else's problem by posting a sneak peek!
Small But Good takes place directly after the s2 finale, where Peter takes Stiles home with him to take care of his injuries and they have to confront the fact that they're mates, something Stiles only realized after he had helped kill Peter. The full fic will be posted on August 2nd, as part of my personal little Stiles Summer 2024 event.
--
“Take off your clothes,” Peter prompted, giving Stiles an expectant look.
“Yeah, no,” Stiles huffed out a laugh. “I am not getting naked in front of you.”
“Fair enough,” though as Peter said it, he sounded defeated and a bit… pouty. “I do need you to take off your shirt and pants though. I need to check your injuries, darling.”
“Ri—ight. Check my ‘injuries’, creeperwolf,” Stiles muttered teasingly.
He did comply though. He’d done his best to take care of them earlier himself but that only went so far. With a wince did he peel his shirt off over his head, stretching up pulled painfully on his ribs. A hand grabbed his shoulder and the pain was once again replaced by a warm, comfortable feeling. A pleased sigh escaped Stiles as he relaxed in Peter’s grasp.
“Thank you,” Stiles whispered while unbuttoning his pants.
He kicked them off and found himself down to his boxers and oddly self-conscious. His breath hitched at the sound of a growl. It was filled with rage, the kind that should tell Stiles not to move because there was an angry werewolf in the room. When he looked at Peter, he could see the Alpha all wolved out, snarl on his face, all fangs and glowing red eyes. His hands were balled to fists, blood dripping from them where his claws were digging into his palms. Without even thinking about it, Stiles stepped up and took Peter’s hands, startling the wolf into relaxing his grip enough so Stiles could ease his fists open. Stiles frowned down at the claw-marks that were already healing.
“I’m sorry,” Peter sighed. “I didn’t mean to scare you…”
“You didn’t scare me. Come on. Give me a little more credit. I know that little display wasn’t aimed at me, it was aimed at Gerard. Yeah, I know it looks… bad, worse than the bit of bruising on my face,” Stiles heaved a sigh. “I don’t think anything is broken though. Broken ribs feel different. But I do think they’re bruised. But I’m okay.”
“You are not okay, you are hurt,” Peter growled again.
“Yup, uhu, fully aware of that,” Stiles looked up at Peter with one raised eyebrow. “But nothing’s broken, or torn. I can walk all on my own. I’m okay. Besides, you already killed him, so there’s nothing you can do about this with violence and wolfiness right now anyway.”
Stiles’ heart jumped at the admission that Peter had killed Gerard Argent. Peter had killed Gerard Argent for hurting Stiles. Impulsively, Stiles leaned up and brushed his cheek against Peter’s. The wolf went impossibly still at the action, his breath catching in his throat.
“Stiles-” Peter growled, a soft, low warning. “Don’t do things you don’t understand.”
“Don’t,” Stiles growled back, annoyed. “Don’t start underestimating me now, Peter, not after you’ve been pretty much the only person in this damn town who acknowledges I got a brain.”
A flash of surprise and confusion went over Peter’s face. Like the wolf had really thought Stiles would do something as weird as rub his cheek against someone else’s just for fun. Of course did he know about scent-marking, he’d been reading up on werewolf behavior for long enough at this point and he knew that scenting was important among a pack, among mates even more so.
“You killed him,” Stiles said in explanation, offering a half-shrug. “You killed him for me.”
Peter huffed out a surprised laugh. “Sweetheart, aren’t you perfect for me.”
A blush lit Stiles’ face up at the compliment. “C’mon, you wanted to inspect my injuries. Because I would actually love to get into that bathtub and soak in it for like an hour.”
“That can be arranged,” Peter’s voice was a purr.
“Alone,” Stiles clarified with a sharp glare. “I will be going into that tub alone.”
Again with the pouting! A grown-ass man had no right to look that cute while pouting!
“Another time then, darling,” Peter winked playfully at him, before turning more serious. “I am going to touch you now though, to check your injuries. Is that okay?”
And oh. Oh, Peter and consent were really fucking hot. A thought that had crossed Stiles’ mind already when Peter had toyed with his wrist, offered the bite – and let go as soon as Stiles had declined. So much has been happening to him with no say so on his part that it was just incredibly good to be asked, and for his boundaries and wishes to be respected.
“Yes,” Stiles whispered, his voice soft. “That’s okay.”
#Steter#Teen Wolf#hurt/comfort#Sneak Peek#Peter Hale#Stiles Stilinski#Phoe's Fics#Stiles Summer 2024#Fic: Small But Good
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what does a girl have to do around here to find some good fanfic with a very specific trope (time travel and the traveller knows that person is dying but doesn't tell person until it's time for traveller to leave and go back to their own time and traveller knows person is going to die soon so traveller tries to say their best goodbye without seeming like something's wrong and option a is that it works and person has no idea which makes it hurt so good or option b person figures it out and accepts it and ohhhh that's harsh on my heart) in the ninjago or harry potter or teen wolf or mcu fandoms on ao3
and yes, this is me begging for recommendations.
#harry potter#fanfic#fanfiction#ao3#ao3 fanfic#fandom#teen wolf#time travel#tropes#fic rec#recommendation#marvel#mcu#mcu fandom#marvel mcu#hurt/comfort#angst#asking for help#tony stark#stiles stilinski#teen wolf stiles#james potter#lily evans#scott mccall#steve rogers#natasha romanoff#ninjago#lego ninjago#ninjago dragons rising#lloyd garmadon
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Never Let Stiles Pick the Movie
liam dunbar x theo raeken
summary: an innocent pack bonding night goes south when something in the movie reminds theo of his past. luckily, liam's there to remind him he's not in another nightmare.
tags: pack bonding, movie night, based on the movie: the ring (2002) [i have never seen this movie, bare with me], emotional hurt / comfort, mentions of tara raeken, mentions of dread doctors, theo's nightmares, trauma, & ptsd, panic attacks, concerned liam, deep conversations, theo needs a hug (but he gets one!), mutual pining / they're in love they just don't know it yet, couch cuddling, emotional with a happy ending
word count: 4.5k
a/n: i intended to post this on halloween, but while i got it up on ao3 in time, the same cannot be said for tumblr, because i got distracted. apologies! let's just pretend it's still october, though, and besides, isn't every day spooky day for these poor teenagers?
also, i saw a post a while ago that was like, "how would theo react to seeing the ring?" and i can't find that post, but i haven't been able to let it go, thus producing this fic. if that was your post, thank you for the idea, lmao
Theo swears he’s never seen a pack do as much bonding shit as the McCall pack. It seems like every other night, they’re at their alpha’s house. Once every week, they’re sleeping over. And almost every single time, some stupid movie is played, and everyone’s expected to stay for the entirety of it. He is tired.
Not of the pack, necessarily. Theo’s just tired in general. He’s grateful to be included, actually, he just never expected there to be so much demand involved in being part of a pack. Theo’s gone from being the only person his age, hiding out in dark tunnels with the Dread Doctors, to his three more-or-less authoritative figures being erased from time, and him being plunged into civilization with a rowdy pack of teenaged wolves for company. And while he’s not complaining - he promises - it is a lot to take in. Especially considering half of the pack’s still unsure of his presence, and one person in particular is just too sweet to him.
Theo’s snapped out of his thoughts as that particular person is now waving him over to the couch, a bag of candy in his unoccupied hand. He takes a deep breath. The last thing Liam needs right now is candy, considering how bouncing off the walls he’s been for the past three hours.
“Theo!” He calls out, after unsuccessfully coaxing the chimera the other way.
“What?” He doesn’t mean to sound as tired as he is, but it’s exhausting to keep up the facade he works so hard to maintain.
“Come watch a movie with us!”
Mason turns out all the lights but one in the kitchen - the one right beside Theo - and shrugs at him playfully.
“Didn’t you guys watch a movie just the other day?” Theo asks, eyes bouncing back and forth between the close friends.
“Yeah, but this is a different one.”
“C’mon, dude, it’s Halloween. If you don’t give in, Liam’s gonna be upset,” Mason urges, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. He’s getting better with Theo. Slowly.
The older boy rolls his eyes. It’s no secret how he feels about the young wolf - no matter how oblivious Liam himself may be.
“What is it, a horror movie?”
“Probably.”
Theo wants to comment on how he clearly heard Mason say he hates horror movies in the beginning of October, which contradicts the casual tone he uses about them now. Obviously, he just wants Theo to give in and join them, no matter his own reservations about the spooky tradition.
“Alright,” he groans, knowing he’s not winning this fight. Mason’s smile grows and he turns on his heel. Theo follows him to the living room, then nestles himself beside Liam and the arm of the couch. Mason goes to the couch’s opposite end, Corey beside him. Theo would try to avoid touching Liam’s leg, like he’s currently forced into doing, but the couch meant for three is occupied by all four of them, and no one seems to be itching to move. Liam and Corey look to have no qualms about practically sitting on top of each other. In a second, though, Corey shifts to sit on Mason’s lap, giving the beta some wiggle room, and Theo can meld a bit more into the couch and curl a little closer into the arm.
Across the room, Nolan and Alec are in a similar position. At first, Alec seated himself on the ground, but then Nolan coaxed him into the seat with him, making for a tight squeeze. Neither boy seems to be complaining, though, and are now sharing a bowl of popcorn much easier than they would be if Alec was still on the floor.
“What movie are we watching?” The youngest beta - now beating out Liam - asks. “The Conjuring?” He has a hopeful tone that Theo doesn’t understand in the slightest.
“No, no,” Corey waves him off, “The Ring.” Alec makes a face, prompting Corey to continue. “Stiles’ choice, from afar. We asked in the group chat earlier. He was the first to respond.”
Mason shudders. “I haven’t seen this movie in years. Remember, Liam?”
Liam frowns, seemingly agreeing. “I didn’t sleep for weeks.”
“Your mom was pissed.”
The troublemaker then laughs at that, as if bringing his mom emotional turmoil is something to be enjoyed. He’s just playing, though. Theo knows that about him.
“What’s it about?”
“Demon girl that kills anyone who watches a specific tape,” Mason replies vaguely, unwilling to spoil it to the unsuspecting chimera.
Theo raises an eyebrow but doesn’t reply. The movie begins, causing Nolan to shush no one in particular - no one had been speaking at that moment - and bringing everyone’s eyes to the screen. The familiar scent of trepidation takes over the pack, but the territory is safe. All rising heart beats and pauses of breath are to blame on the film as the narrator continues, introducing the scene.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Fear lingers in the air, but they’re used to it now. It carries a different scent - one Theo’s not too keen on - that holds a bit of thrill in it, like the pack is terrified, but they’re enjoying it. Theo’s not quite sure he’s enjoying this movie.
His whole life has practically been a horror movie. He doesn’t need to see one, he’s lived one for ten years. The only reason he agreed to this dumb thing was to be close to Liam and to bond with the pack. The more stupid shit he agrees to taking part in, the more accepting of him they’ll be.
Right now, though, he’s regretting that decision wholeheartedly. The moment he sees the girl - Samara, he thinks her name is - his blood runs cold. Her hair is long and black and covers her eyes. Her skin is pale and covered in grime. Her face is sullen, almost unreadable; he can’t tell if she’s more disappointed or angry. She reminds him of something seen only in nightmares. Something that haunts you in your darkest moments, when you’re most tired, but unable to close your eyes, because she’s there, waiting. She reminds him of Tara.
Theo tries his hardest to watch the movie. He tries to focus on his heartbeat, regulating it, keeping it steady, but he can hear it accelerate with every passing minute. He tries to calm himself, count sheep, focus on Liam’s scent, squeeze his eyes shut, but nothing works. His breaking point is when Samara finds her way out of the well. The sun has completely set now, making the McCall house dark, omitting the one light in the kitchen. Samara spots the man she’ll make her victim and rushes towards him. She crawls on her hands and knees before grabbing him. Theo springs up the minute she starts to crawl, the nightmares he thought he was finally pushing away resurfacing at the sight of her. He pays no attention to the way Liam instantly panics, reaching a hand out to him. He misses the concerned drawl of his name on the boy’s tongue, the worry in his eyes. Theo scrambles off the couch and out of the girl’s sight as fast as possible. He finds himself in the bathroom and shuts the door quickly, flicking on the lights. His breathing is erratic and the panic attack is inevitable. Theo clutches at his chest and throat, claws out, ready to attack, or rip her off him, or something, anything, he has to do to keep his heart.
He misses the short sentence Liam tells the rest of the pack: “I’m gonna go find him.”
He fails to hear the boy’s footsteps, or his nearby breathing, or his scent at the door.
He doesn’t acknowledge him until Liam’s right in front of him, grabbing his hands to pull his claws away from his delicate skin, whispering, begging to know if he’s okay.
“Theo,” he mutters, frowning, “talk to me.”
Tears form at the edges of the chimera’s eyes, worrying the beta further. Theo doesn’t cry. He never panics, and he certainly never cries.
“What happened? You can tell me, it’s okay.”
He trusts him, Liam. He trusts him with his life. He trusts him with the truth. He just can’t get the words out, can’t form them on his tongue. Theo opens his mouth to say, but nothing comes out. Nothing but air.
“Theo,” he urges. “Breathe. Settle down with me, okay? You have to breathe.” He looks around, still holding the boy’s fists in his hands. “What color shirt am I wearing?”
The older boy knits his eyebrows together. “What?”
“What color shirt am I wearing?” Liam repeats, providing no context.
“I don’t know, I can’t see.” The color swirls around in his mind. He thinks it’s green, but his vision’s too fuzzy to tell.
“Okay… What color are my eyes?”
Theo blinks. He knows that, of course he does. He knows it by heart. He knows it in his dreams. A beautiful light blue. Where the sea meets the sky. “Blue,” he says, wanting to say more, to be more descriptive, but limited by his dizzy mind.
“Good. That’s really good. Okay. What color are yours?”
“Green.”
Like moss agate, Liam wants to add. He doesn’t. “Good. Can you tell me what shirt color I’m wearing now?”
“Green, I think.”
“Yeah, it is. You’re doing really well. Can you name three other things in this room that are green?”
Theo narrows his eyes, but doesn’t question the prompt. “The walls, I guess, are green-ish. That shampoo bottle up on the shelf.” He scans the room once, then twice. “The curtain has a little bit of green in the design, if you look closely.”
“Good! Those are the same things I noticed. That’s great! Alright, how are you feeling?”
Theo pauses, contemplating the question. He almost answers terribly, and that he’s out of breath, and it feels like he’s going to die, but then he stills. He notices his heart isn’t beating so hard that it might jump from his chest, and his vision isn’t so fuzzy, he can actually see Liam in front of him, and the slight pain from his claws emerging from his palms is now absent, because his claws have retracted back into his hands, making him safe from himself.
Theo looks at Liam and swallows hard. He feels a bit vulnerable, but the boy isn’t looking at him in a way that makes him feel like he has to hide. He looks at him with pure concern and care, and almost love, if Theo isn’t mistaken. He shakes that thought away.
“Theo?” Liam prompts, leaning closer, squeezing his hands a bit harder, but still gently.
“I’m okay,” he finally responds. His mouth is dry and tastes faintly of blood, like he was biting his own cheeks, which he probably was. “I’m okay,” he repeats.
Liam visibly relaxes, posture deflating. “Good.” He squeezes his hand again. “You startled me.”
“What happened?” He remembers the questions, remembers the feeling, but can’t recall the trigger. It’s like a gap in his memory, despite just occurring.
“You had a panic attack. Maybe from the movie? I knew it was a bad idea to let Stiles pick the movie. Mason and I watched it when we were kids, and it scared me to death.”
With a sinking feeling in his chest, Theo remembers. It was the movie. It was her. Tara.
“Theo? You okay?” Liam senses the sudden anxiety rising in the other boy. “What color are my eyes?”
“Blue,” Theo replies, own eyes closing. “And the rug you’re sitting on is blue, too.”
Liam smiles, clearly elated that Theo’s caught on to his game. “Very good! You’re a quick learner.”
“So I’ve been told.” Theo finds himself smiling, but then remembers the memory that brought them here. He frowns. Liam cocks his head to the side. “The girl in the movie.”
“Mhm?”
“Reminds me of Tara.”
Liam’s mouth goes dry. Nerves bubble in his stomach. “Your sister?”
Theo nods. “When she escapes the well and goes after that guy… that’s what it was like in hell.” Liam’s face changes for a split second - a look of fear, to curiosity, then back to fear. He knows Theo’s time in hell had been… unpleasant, to say the least. He knows about hell from what he was taught as a kid, that it’s not a place of rest, but instead somewhere one atones for their crimes, and no matter how much they pay, they never get to find peace. He also knows Theo was desperate not to be sent back. He never gave details on what had happened to him, but he knows it was something horrible. Something for which Liam feels so guilty about; something he wishes he could wipe from Theo’s mind, erase his slate, as if he’d never been there at all.
Theo doesn’t talk much about his time in hell. Liam always wondered if his sister was down there, too. He gets his answer now.
“Every day was the same. I’d wake up in the hospital, in one of those beds in the morgue where they’d put the dead. I’d climb out, gasping for breath, confused. And then I’d wander into the halls, wondering where I am, what I’m doing in the hospital, and then she’d find me. She’d attack. She was pretty fast for, for, someone in her condition. She’d push me down and climb over my body, then rip her heart out from my chest, and watch me bleed until she became fuzzy to my eyes. She never stopped, no matter how much I begged. I know she was just taking back what was hers, but it hurt so goddamn bad every time.”
Liam stares, tears welling up in the corners of his eyes as Theo talks. The revelation of what occurred in all those nightmares sends a jolt up his spine. The realization that he hadn’t been able to protect him from his own sister, his own nightmares, makes him choke on a sob he doesn’t know he’s trying to hold back.
“I’m sorry,” he finally blurts out.
“What? Why?”
“For us watching that stupid movie! I didn’t think about how it could look like Tara. I didn’t know-”
“You weren’t supposed to know, Liam,” he interrupts. “Have I ever even told you what she looks like? That’s not your fault.”
“She looks like you,” he assumes, “but, like, a girl.”
“Are you saying that Samara looks like me? Because I’m actually a little offended that you think that,” he jokes, desperately trying to rid the boy from his falling tears.
“No.” Liam hits him playfully, then wipes his eyes with his sleeve. But I should’ve been more aware that she could look like Tara. I hadn’t considered that.”
“That’s not your fault,” he repeats. “You didn’t even know Tara was in my nightmares. You knew something was haunting me, but I never told you what.”
“I should’ve given you a better synopsis of the movie,” he mutters.
“You’ve gotta stop finding ways to blame yourself for this.”
Liam’s quiet. He has so much to blame himself for, no matter what Theo’s saying now. The older boy was supposed to be his responsibility. He wasn’t only supposed to keep him in line, he was supposed to keep him safe.
“What’s going on in that head of yours?” Theo asks, trying to meet his eyes, realizing he’s been silent for much too long.
“You kept waking up in the hospital?” That’s not what he meant to ask, but it seems his curious mind and tongue are conspiring against him now.
“Yeah, Beacon Hills Memorial.”
Liam replays the flashback of the time he and Theo were tasked with distracting the Ghost Riders. As soon as they entered the hospital, something overtook Theo. His body was flooded with fear and his mind was hard to reach. Liam had to call his name several times, urgently, to snap him out of whatever trance he fell into.
Liam then remembers his plan of hiding in the morgue. He remembers the older boy’s resistance; fear, which quickly turned into defense.
“I think whatever happened to you, you deserved it.” He had regretted the words as soon as he spoke them, but stubbornly, couldn’t take them back. They were already out, chilling the room even colder than it was. Maybe he thought them for a second, believed them to be true for a moment, rehashing in his mind all that Theo had done to him and his pack, ripping them apart at the seams, but in reality, he always knew it wasn’t deserved. Everyone is at least worthy of trying to be redeemed. If hell is really the hell he was taught in school, Theo didn’t deserve that fate, when all he was doing was trying to survive.
“Liam,” Theo repeats, shaking the younger boy’s hand vigorously. Too deep in thought, he hadn’t heard the three previous times he’s called his name, but Liam finally responds now. “C’mon. Snap out of it.”
His touch brings him back to the surface, out of the memory. Theo had been hesitant to touch him, he always is, but it will always be the thing they both crave from each other.
“Sorry.”
“You okay?”
Liam shrugs. “You didn’t deserve what happened to you.”
“What?”
“Hell, Tara haunting you, even the fucking Dread Doctors… you didn’t deserve any of that pain. You should’ve gotten to grow up like a child does, scared of a horror movie because it’s a horror movie, not because it reminds you of your past. It’s fucked up.”
“Liam-”
“If you’re gonna try to convince me I’m wrong, don’t even try.”
“The Doctors chose me because I had the potential to be evil.”
“That’s bullshit. They took you because you were a child, and children are easy to manipulate.”
“That’s why they took Mason,” he corrects. “I was never meant to be anything good.”
“I don’t believe that. You’re good to me.” Theo looks up in disbelief, frustrating Liam even more. “You anchor me, and you’re always there for me, and you’re my friend.”
“But-”
“And look at Corey. He trusts you now, because you’ve earned it. You’re a friend to him, too. And Alec, he looks up to you.”
“Alec looks terrified of me.”
“Well, you can be a little intimidating, but you’ve never given him a reason not to trust you. You’re older than the rest of us, but mesh better with us than the older pack. You’re like the most authoritative figure we have when Scott’s gone.”
“That’s scary-”
“You’re often the voice of reason in unknown situations. You protect us, all of us, sometimes from ourselves.” He drags a finger along Theo’s open palm, carefully, and relishes in the way his shoulders unconsciously relax. “I think Tara - the real Tara, your sister, not the deranged manifestation of her from hell - would be proud of you. I know I am.”
Theo sucks in a breath and knits his eyebrows together in confusion. “Liam-”
“You can’t convince me otherwise. You’re stronger than you give yourself credit for. You survived ten years with those fucking freaks. You did what you had to do to survive, and yeah, you did some bad things, but we’ve all done bad things, but none of us have paid for them as horribly as you have. And now, all those things aside, you’re doing better. Emotionally scarred, yes, but physically? They deprived you of so much, but you’re learning now. They taught you nothing but pain, how to live in fear, how to ignite fear in others, but no one in this room’s afraid of you anymore. And you’re safe. We’re all pack, and we protect each other.”
“Nolan’s still scared of me.”
“Nolan’s scared of everyone.” Liam stares into Theo until the boy finally meets his gaze. “You didn’t deserve any of the literal or figurative hell you’ve been through, and I’m proud of you for surviving it, and turning out the way you have. In fact, I quite like the way you’ve turned out.”
Theo wants to let the words sink in, wants to let himself enjoy them as they fall off the other’s lips, wants to let them warm his heart, but he still isn’t used to receiving praise - no matter how often Liam seems to give it - and gives a slight chuckle instead. “How do you think baby Liam from a year ago would react to hearing you say that?”
Liam frowns. He chooses to ignore the baby part and answers honestly. “I think he’d be glad, because he never wanted you to be the bad guy. He always hoped you’d be good.” He shrugs. “And now, given different circumstances, you are. So, he wins.”
Theo’s shoulders deflate, as if being proved wrong for the fiftieth time in ten minutes is finally getting to be exhausting. “You really believe that?”
“I wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t believe it. I don’t lie, Theo. Check my heart.”
“You’re a horrible liar even without listening to your heart. Your eyes are always trained to the floor, and the side of your lip curls up, and your hands are restlessly clasped together.”
Liam looks up, stunned by the detailed observation. “You’re just proving my point.”
Theo sighs, then smiles. He tries to catch a sound from beyond the bathroom door, but the screams of the characters that once filled his ears are now replaced by a haunting melody. The movie’s wrapping up to close. The demon, hopefully, was defeated.
“Are you okay to go back out?” Liam asks, also listening. “I think it’s finally over.”
Theo nods once. “Sorry to make you miss the end.”
“I don’t mind. If you hadn’t run out, I probably would’ve.” Theo begins to stand and Liam follows, still talking. “Mason and I both screamed when she climbed out of the well. My mom came running so fast, heart beating out of her chest, and soothed us both before settling us into bed. Then, the next morning, we got the worst scolding of our lives.” They stand in front of the mirror, Theo’s hand on the doorknob, Liam’s pinky finger inching towards his free hand, suddenly not ready to leave. “When I told her we were watching it tonight, I could already hear her heart starting to beat. She got that warning look in her eyes and wasted no time reminding me of how that went last time. The fact that Mason would be here, too, was no comfort to her, considering how equally scared he was. I was honestly surprised she even let me come, because even though she trusts me, she’s still super protective, y’know?” Theo nods, understanding, though curious as to what he’ll say next. “But then I assured her the whole pack would be there, it wasn’t just Mason and I. I told her you’d be there, and that’s when her posture relaxed and her rambling stopped, because she trusts you. She knows you keep me safe and grounded. She knows you’re good.”
Theo swallows. He suddenly becomes aware of Liam’s pinky grazing his, and fights the urge to take his hand in his own. He tries to ask, but the words get stuck in his throat.
“Can I hug you?” Liam asks, somehow having the same question Theo did. He nods, and immediately, Liam’s reaching up on his tiptoes to hug the boy around his neck. Their bodies press close. Theo sneaks his hands around the smaller wolf’s waist, inhaling his scent at his chest. Liam nuzzles his nose into the crook of his neck, and before pulling away, plants a small kiss there without even realizing it. A shiver runs up Theo’s spine and the air around them changes. The gentlest shift of something that was once small growing into something more noticeable. Neither complain, but neither explore it further.
“Ready?”
The skin on Theo’s neck tingles, as do Liam’s lips. A dizzying, sweet scent floods their noses, overwhelms the room. Theo opens the door, letting the unfamiliar scent rush out into the house. Liam links their pinkies as they re-enter the living room, ignores the looks from the pack, and plops back down into his seat on the couch. Theo follows, but is careful not to touch Liam’s side, despite their hands still clasped together.
“You guys good?” Corey asks, pushing Liam with his socked foot. Liam rolls into Theo for a split second before Corey retracts his foot, giggling.
“Yeah. Did Samara crawl back from where she came?”
“No, they defeated her,” Alec supplies, eyes on Theo. He sits on Nolan’s lap still, but his shoulders are tense. He isn’t quite comfortable being so close, despite having such a painful, obvious crush on the human.
“Why was she so mad?”
“Thought you guys watched this movie before?” Corey asks instead of answering Liam’s question.
“Mom turned it off before we finished it,” he reveals.
Corey looks at Mason, jaw dropped. “You told me you finished it.”
Mason raises his hands. “I wanted to sound cool!”
Corey pushes him playfully. “You suck!”
“Well now I’ve finished it. These two are the only ones that haven’t.” He points to Liam and Theo. “Want me to rewind it?”
“No, no, no, we’re good,” Liam says quickly. “In fact, I’m good to never watch it again.” He pauses, watching the screen as something else dark and spooky fills it. “Okay… What’s this?”
“Chill out, it’s The Nightmare Before Christmas. Since you two big, bad werewolves can’t handle an actual scary movie.”
Liam sneers playfully at the younger chimera, who just throws his hands up unapologetically. Conversation ceases as the music begins to play, and everyone begins nestling further into the couches, getting comfortable for another film. Beside him, Theo’s heart rate is calm. He still smells slightly sweet, and seems to be making an effort to avoid getting too close to Liam, but Liam decides to quickly change that by putting a hand on his arm.
“What are you-?”
“C’mere,” he interrupts, keeping his senses out for any signs of him being uncomfortable. There’s none, but there is a fresh scent of the sweetness they both had earlier. “Cuddle me.” He puts up no fight as Liam nests himself into his personal space. Their thighs touch completely now, Liam enveloping his body with his own. He kisses the side of his head, causing the chimera to practically melt into him. Both heartbeats quicken, then relax as they settle into their new position on the couch.
Their closeness crosses the already thin line between them, but it was only a matter of time before that happened. Corey and Mason share the quietest of high-fives. Nolan stares, but isn’t complaining, as Theo relaxing into Liam seems to cause Alec to finally relax into him, as if the older boy nonverbally assures the other, it’s okay.
“What’s this movie about?” Theo mumbles, tired still, but satiated in Liam’s arms.
“Skeleton wanders too far outside of Halloween-town and ends up in Christmas-town, where he causes a major ruckus,” Mason offers.
“My mom used to play this movie all the time when we were kids,” Liam adds.
“So it’s Mom-approved?”
“Mhm. No creepy-crawly girls.”
He can feel Theo’s chuckle reverberate through his body. “Good.”
Liam smiles, then presses his lips into Theo’s shoulder once more. “You’re safe,” he mutters softly. The boy beneath him relaxes under his touch.
#liam dunbar x theo raeken fanfic#liam dunbar x theo raeken#thiam#thiam fic#thiam fanfic#teen wolf fanfiction#thiam oneshot#emotional hurt/comfort#tw: mentions of theo's past & trauma & nightmares
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Midnight Rain - Fic and Soundtrack
My giftee this year was the fabulous @mizzricki. I had a blast creating this and hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed creating it. Happy Holidays! <3 <3 <3
Title: Midnight Rain Rating: Teen Warnings: no archive warnings apply Fandoms: Teen Wolf Category: m/m Relationships: Stiles/Peter Tags: Steter Secret Santa 2023, bad friend Scott, Stiles is pushed out of the pack, found family, background pairing Chris Argent/Derek Hale
Summary: Stiles knew in that moment that it was over. Scott would always be sunshine–would always want a world where things were clear-cut and easy. Villains wore black hats and good guys never killed. And Stiles, well, he’d always been the rain–the gray, pessimistic counterpoint to Scott’s unrelenting optimism. And after everything he’d survived, he knew he’d never see the world in anything other than shades of gray. Read on ao3
#steter secret santa 2023#steter#teen wolf#set in an au season 5#found family#bad friend scott mccall#stiles is pushed out of the pack#hurt/comfort#background dargent#fic#fic soundtrack#fan art
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Emergency Contact (Comfort)
Part of my @goodthingsdohappenbingo for the prompt Nighttime comfort.
Can be read on AO3 here
Pairing: Stiles/Peter/Chris
Summary:
Stiles was...well... He was fucked! And it wasn't even his fault this time okay, it seriously wasn't. So, the fact that he was currently laid up in an emergency side room, holding a bloody towel to his temple wasn't something anyone could tell him otherwise.
Because it was not his fault. The fact that his other arm was cradled against his chest as well and possibly broken also wasn't his fault. None of this was and yet he was the one sitting there, injured, and hurting while the other guy was currently fighting with the nurses down the hall, each yell and squeak of footwear against the floor driving another nail in to his head.
Of course, that guy was drunk, driving a stupid car which crashed into Stiles' jeep and made him veer off to the side, hitting another car as he went while drunk guy continued to drive on, hitting others too. But it was also the fact that the side he was pushed towards just happened to slope downwards...just enough to send the jeep rolling once or twice and land upside down.
He was fucked, but he was alive.
#stiles stilinski#peter hale#Chris argent#Steter#stetopher#stargent#handsofred#ao3#teen wolf#fic#writing#fics#hurt and comfort#Stiles is injured#Peter is a good guy#good things happen bingo
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You are doing The Good Work with this blog, I swear, it's keeping me sane in these insane times.
Can you help me find a sterek fic where Derek is chained up by hunters and they bring in Stiles and reveal a lot of his scars and say he's like a poster boy for why humans shouldn't mix with wolves, and Derek gets upset because at one point Stiles says he isn't part of the pack, and there's no uptick in his heartbeat that says he's lying? That's all I can remember, and I couldn't find it under the kidnapped stiles tag in AO3. . .
Hi anon! @spookycollectorcandy says it's this one.
Horizons into Battlegrounds by AClosedFicIsNeverRead
(1/1 I 15,383 I Explicit I Sterek)
Derek has always kept his distance from Stiles, refusing to act on his instinctive desire for the pale, doe-eyed human. But at what cost? When circumstances reveal the horrors that Stiles has suffered due to Derek's self-imposed distance, will the Alpha be able to make it right before it's too late?
______________________________________________________
“Who are you to the pack?” the hunter asked.
“I’m nobody.” Stiles answered plainly.
And a harsh chill ran through Derek’s body. His breath caught in his throat because… because Stiles’ heart… it had remained steady. Stiles… actually believed that. Believed that he was ‘nobody.’ How could Stiles believe that?
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Imagine school/collage/university AU (or literally any other) where Liam is in a relationship with Hayden but feels jealous when Theo flirts with Tracy and doesn't know why he's feeling that way especially towards Theo
*some plot happening*
Thiam & Stemero (wtf is this ship name? Trayden better imo) endgame
#teen wolf#theo raeken#thiam#theo raeken x liam dunbar#liam dunbar#angst#fluff#liam dunbar x hayden romero#teen wolf fanfiction#teen wolf fic#ao3 fanfic#ao3#hayden romero#tracy stewart#hayden x tracy#hayden romero x tracy stewart#theo raeken x tracy stewart#theo x tracy#liam x hayden#liam x theo#hurt/comfort#jealousy
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Whumptober Day 15: “I don't need you to help me I can handle things myself.” | Makeshift Bandages | Suppressed Suffering | “I’m fine.”
Words: 1.8k
Summary: Theo's never taken anyone's pain before this, and it has consequences for his own post-battle wounds, a fact he keeps to himself when he decides it's what he deserves.
“Why are you not healing?” Theo shrugs, regretting the gesture instantly when he winces. “I’ve never taken someone’s pain before, and no one’s taken mine.” Liam’s thumb taps on his elbow, smile curving his lips and lighting his bright blue eyes. “And now you’ve done both.” He sits next to Theo on the bed, still holding his arm. “You can tell me things. That’s what friends do.” His brows furrow. “We’re… friends?” “I’d like to be.” Theo leans forward, head falling to the crook of Liam’s neck. The beta’s other hand braces against his neck softly, rubbing circles into the skin there. “I don’t deserve friends. Or anything else. Especially you.”
#thiam#archive of our own#fanfiction#theo raeken#liam dunbar#teen wolf#whumptober2023#no.15#suppressed suffering#makeshift bandages#i'm fine#hurt/comfort#emotional hurt/comfort#fic moodboard
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