#theo raeken x fem!reader

[raekensluver]

forbidden cravings

description: when taking a late night walk in the summer heat turns into an unforgettable night with your enemy theo raeken...you're not sure how to continue.

pairing: enemy!theo raeken x stilinski!werewolf!fem!reader

contains: 18+, Minors DNI, hate sex, mentions of theo's betrayal, unprotected sex, p in v, squirting, car sex

song rec: renegade by aaryan shah- "oh, should've listened to them. oh, don't you know what i am?"

w.c: 4.5k

an: i of course had to write a fic with my og man. my original theodore. everything started with him. also this has been sitting in my drafts for foreverrrr and i need it gone.

the moon hung low in the sky, casting an eerie glow over the deserted streets of beacon hills. a warm breeze whispered through the full branches of the trees, the heat sending an uncomfortable wave through your body. in the quiet, the distant hum of a car engine grew louder, interrupting the rhythmic crunch of gravel beneath your boots.

the headlights of theo raeken's blue pickup truck pierced the darkness as it approached, the engine purring like a wild beast stalking its prey. theo, a werewolf-coyote chimera, had a history of betrayal and violence that had earned him a place on your enemy list. but tonight, the universe played a cruel trick, making you reconsider your preconceptions.

you watched him roll down the window, the coolness of the car's interior briefly escaping into the warm night air. "it's going to be hot tonight," he called out, his voice a stark contrast to the harshness of his reputation. "want a ride home?" you hesitated, stiles' warnings echoed in your mind, but something in theo's eyes—a glimmer of sincerity, perhaps—held you there.

"i don't trust you," you spat, your voice sharp . theo's smile was a sly curve in the shadows. "trust has to be earned," he replied, "but i'm just offering a refreshing, cool ride, not a knife in the back." you searched his gaze, looking for the usual deceit, but all you found was a hint of desperation. maybe he wasn't all bad. maybe.

"stiles would kill me," you said, your voice softer now, but the warning was clear. theo's eyes narrowed, and for a second, you saw a flash of anger. "stiles doesn't have to know," he said, his voice low and persuasive. "just this once, let's not let him dictate your choices." something in his words resonated with you, the desire for a moment of rebellion against the cautious world you've built around yourself.

you clenched your fists, weighing the risks and the crisp coolness of the truck against the scorching embrace of the night. "fine," you finally relented, sliding into the passenger seat. the door shut with a thud that echoed through the quiet. the shill from the vents washed over you, a stark contrast to the warming grip of the night outside. theo's smirk was victory in motion as he put the truck into gear and pulled away from the curb.

the silence between you was thick, filled with unspoken tension and the roar of the engine. the town lights grew distant, swallowed by the darkness of the surrounding woods. you studied theo's profile, the sharp line of his jaw and the way his eyes flickered to the rearview mirror. every muscle in your body was taut, ready to spring into action if needed.

his hand rested on the gearstick, tapping a rhythm that matched the pulse hammering in your ears. "so, how's scott?" he asked, his tone casual, but the mention of scott sent a spike of anger through you. "why do you care?" you shot back, the memory of his betrayal still fresh.

theo's eyes stayed on the road, his grip tightening slightly. "because i know i hurt him," he said, his voice heavy with a mix of regret and defiance. "i want to make amends, but i know i've got a long way to go." his honesty was disarming, and you felt your anger waver. "you've got more than a long way," you murmured, staring out the window at the passing trees.

the truck rumbled on, the tension in the vehicle was palpable. without looking at you, theo spoke again. "i've changed, you know." his words hung in the air like a challenge, a question wrapped in a declaration. you bit your lip, torn between the urge to believe him and the fear that he was playing another game.

finally, you turned to face him. "prove it," you said, your eyes searching his. theo's gaze met yours, and for a moment, you saw something raw and vulnerable in the depths of his pupils. without another word, he pulled the truck over into a clearing, the headlights cutting through the night to reveal a breathtaking view of beacon hills sprawled out beneath the moon.

he killed the engine, the sudden silence amplifying the thud of your heart. the cool leather of the seat sent a shiver down your spine as the coolness of the cabin faded. "how do you want me to prove it?" he asked, his voice low and rough. the question hung in the air, laden with a tension that was no longer just hostility.

you leaned back in your seat, arms crossed over your chest. "i don't know," you said, the words coming out more as a challenge than a genuine inquiry. theo turned to you, his eyes searching your face in the moonlight. "i want to help," he said, his voice earnest. "i want to be on the right side this time."

his hand reached out, hovering near your arm but not quite touching. you felt the electricity of his proximity, a reminder of the power he wielded. the air grew thick with a scent that was both enticing and dangerous—his wolf. your own wolf stirred, curious despite your wariness. "fine," you said, your voice tight with tension. "prove it."

you watched as he took a deep breath, his chest rising and falling in the dim light. then, without warning, he leaned in, his mouth brushing against yours. it was a gentle touch, a question rather than a demand. your instincts roared, a mix of desire and anger, but instead of pushing him away, you found yourself leaning into the kiss. it grew deeper, more urgent, until your hands were tangled in his hair and you could taste the desperation in his kiss.

theo's hand slid down to your waist, pulling you closer, and you realized that the heat between you had nothing to do with the air pouring from the truck. your body responded in ways it never should have with an enemy, your heart racing as his teeth grazed your bottom lip. you bit back a gasp, your nails digging into his skin as the need for more grew unbearable.

without breaking the kiss, theo reached for the seatbelt, his movements deft and sure. the cool metal clicked open, and you were on him, straddling his lap, your thighs pressing against his, your hands roaming his body. his own were equally as hungry, sliding up your back, tangling in your hair, pulling you closer. the scent of your combined arousal filled the truck, the air thick with it.

but as your passion grew, so did the anger, a burning ember at the base of your spine. you pulled back, breathing heavily, your eyes flashing with the light of the moon. "you tried to kill him," you whispered, your voice a mix of pain and fury. "scott trusted you, and you stabbed him in the back."

theo's eyes searched yours, a hint of regret flickering in their depths. "i know," he murmured, his hands still on your hips. "i know what i did was unforgivable. but i'm not that person anymore."

you didn't answer, the anger still simmering beneath the surface. "scott trusted you," you said, your voice laced with venom. "he believed in you, and you betrayed him." your nails dug into his shoulders, drawing a hiss from his lips. "you didn't just hurt him," you continued, "you hurt all of us. stiles, malia, kira, everyone."

theo's eyes narrowed, his grip on your hips tightening. "you're not exactly innocent, either," he murmured, his voice a dark whisper. "you've killed, you've lied, you've done things you're not proud of." he leaned in, his breath hot against your neck. "we're not so different, you and i."

you flinched at his words, the truth of them stinging like the cold air outside. but you weren't about to let him off the hook. "i've never betrayed my pack," you snarled, your wolf's eyes flashing in the darkness. "i've never pretended to be someone's friend just to stab them in the back."

his eyes searched yours, the steel blues of his irises shimmering with a hint of something that might have been understanding. "maybe not," he said, his voice low. "but you've killed." his words were a challenge, a reminder of the beast that lurked within you both.

you felt your fangs elongate, the rage bubbling up inside you. "that's different," you snarled. "i've never done it out of spite." theo's eyes narrowed, his grip on your hips loosening slightly. "semantics," he murmured, his breath warm against your skin. "we're all just trying to survive in this messed up world."

you stared at him, the weight of his words settling in your chest. "maybe," you conceded, the anger in your voice fading. "but that doesn't mean we can't be better." you leaned in, your teeth grazing his neck, feeling the pulse of his veins beneath the skin. "prove it," you whispered again, your breath hot against his ear. theo's eyes flashed with something primal, his hands sliding up your thighs, pushing your skirt higher.

"i'll prove it," he murmured, his voice a low growl. "just tell me what you want." the challenge in his tone sent a thrill through you. "i want you to show me," you breathed, your voice low and needy.

his hands slid further up, his thumbs brushing against the lacy fabric of your panties. you gasped as he hooked his fingers into the waistband and pulled them down, the cold air making you shiver. theo didn't miss a beat, his mouth moving to your neck, kissing and nipping at the sensitive skin. you felt his fangs graze your neck, a promise of what was to come.

his hand slipped between your legs, his fingers exploring the warm, wet heat of your cunt. you bit your lip to keep from crying out, the sensation sending bolts of pleasure through your body. he groaned, the sound sending vibrations through your chest. "you want this," he murmured, his voice thick with lust. "you want me."

you didn't deny it. the truth was, you did. you wanted him in a way that went beyond logic, beyond the hate and anger that had fueled you for so long. you moaned softly, the sound a confession that felt like a betrayal to your pack. your eyes narrowed as they met his, a silent challenge. theo's hand moved faster, his thumb circling your clit, and you bucked against him, desperate for more.

his other hand slid up your torso, his fingers tracing the line of your bra before deftly unclipping it. your breasts spilled out, the cool, conditioned air making your nipples tighten into peaks. he took one in his mouth, his teeth grazing the sensitive flesh, and you moaned, your nails digging into his back. the pain was a sweet release, mixing with the pleasure until you couldn't tell where one ended and the other began.

his cock was hard against your thigh, and you could feel the throb of his desire matching the pulse of your own. your hands slid down his chest, his abs tightening under his shirt beneath your touch. your hand slid further, stroking him through his jeans. theo groaned, his hips bucking up to meet your hand.

you broke the kiss, panting. "we can't do this here," you murmured, your voice thick with lust. "someone could see." theo's eyes searched yours, the hunger in them unmistakable. "the backseat," he said, his voice a rough growl. "it's more private."

you nodded, the desire to feel him inside you overwhelming. you climbed off his lap and into the backseat, the cold leather sending a shiver down your spine. theo followed, his movements fluid and predatory. the dome light cast a soft glow over the cramped space, highlighting the stark lines of his face and the bulge in his jeans.

once there, he didn't waste any time. he yanked his shirt over his head, revealing the tapestry of scars that mapped his chest and abs. you took in the sight, a mix of anger and desire churning in your stomach. his eyes never left yours as he unbuckled his belt, the sound of the zipper echoing through the truck.

his hand found yours, guiding it to his cock. you felt the heat of him, the steel-like hardness that sent a jolt of electricity through your body. you stroked him through his boxers, feeling him throb in your grip. his eyes fell closed, his breath coming in ragged gasps. "you're so fucking beautiful," he murmured, his voice hoarse with need.

you leaned in, your mouth capturing his, your tongues dancing in a fierce battle of passion and anger. as you kissed, your hand worked faster, the friction driving him wild. his hips bucked up, his cock straining against the fabric. you could feel the tension in his body, the tight coil of desire that matched your own.

theo's hand slid down, his fingers finding your wetness again. you gasped into his mouth as he slid a finger inside you, his thumb circling your clit with a practiced touch. your hips moved in sync with his hand, the pleasure building, the anger fading into the background. he broke the kiss, his breath hot against your cheek. "tell me again that you want this," he whispered, his voice a desperate plea.

you bit back a retort, your breath coming in short, sharp pants. "i don't have to tell you anything," you said, your voice filled with snark. "you can feel it." theo's eyes searched yours, the hunger in them unmistakable. "but i want to hear it," he said, his voice a dark caress. "i want to know that you're not just letting me fuck you because you're mad at me."

you didn't respond, the anger and lust inside you fighting for dominance. but as his hand moved faster, his finger sliding in and out of you, you couldn't hold back. "yes," you moaned, the word torn from your throat. "yes, i want this." it was a declaration, a surrender, and a challenge all rolled into one.

theo's eyes flashed with triumph, his hand moving faster. you could feel yourself climbing, the pressure building. your nails dug into his back, leaving trails of red. "good girl," he murmured, his voice thick with desire. "now, let's make this interesting."

he pulled away, his hand leaving you feeling empty and desperate. you watched as he shucked his boxers, his cock springing free. it was thick and hard, the tip glistening with precum. "now, spread your legs," he said, his smile predatory.

you couldn't help the snarl that curled your lips. "you think you can just fuck your way into my good graces?" you spat, your anger a living thing that thrummed through your veins. theo's eyes glinted with amusement. "i'm not looking for your good graces," he said, his voice low and seductive. "just your body."

his words were like a slap in the face, and you felt the anger bubble up again. "fine," you said, your voice filled with spite. "you want to fuck me like a whore in the back of your truck? go ahead." you leaned back, watching him with a challenge in your eyes. "but it won't change anything between us."

theo's expression darkened, the playfulness draining from his features. "you think you're so high and mighty," he murmured, his voice a dangerous growl. "but you're just as much a monster as I am." he leaned over you, his cock brushing against your thigh. "i'm not looking for forgiveness," he said, his voice a low snarl. "i'm looking for a way to show you that i'm not the same person who hurt scott."

you met his gaze, your eyes flashing with defiance. "then prove it," you whispered, your voice a challenge. "make me believe you're not the same asshole who tried to kill my friends." theo's eyes narrowed, his hand sliding up to your neck. "i will," he said, his voice a promise.

you leaned up, your teeth bared, and sank them into his shoulder. the taste of his skin was intoxicating, the coppery tang of his blood mixing with the scent of his arousal. he groaned, his grip on your neck tightening, his fingers digging into your flesh. "you're just as much of a monster as i am," he murmured, his voice strained with pleasure. "you can't deny it."

you pulled back, licking the blood from your teeth. "i'm not a monster," you hissed, the denial a lie that even you didn't believe. your wolf was close to the surface, eager to claim what was yours. "but if you want to play this game," you continued, your voice a seductive purr, "i'll play."

theo's eyes flashed with excitement, you felt the head of his cock nudge against your entrance, and you couldn't help the whimper that escaped your throat.

his hand slammed into the seat beside you, the leather squeaking in protest. "you're going to scream my name," he whispered, his breath hot against your skin. "you're going to come so hard you'll forget you ever hated me." your anger flared, but it was quickly swallowed by the need that pulsed through you. "you wish," you murmured, your voice a challenge.

his cock slid into you, the sensation of fullness making you gasp. theo's eyes never left yours, watching for any sign of weakness. you clenched around him, your body fighting for control even as your orgasm built. "fuck you," you breathed, your voice tight with need. "you're not going to win this."

his thrusts grew harder, more demanding. "we'll see about that," he murmured, his teeth grazing your jaw. "you're already losing it." you bit back a moan, your nails digging into his back. "you think this means something?" you ground out, your hips moving to meet his. "i'm just using you."

theo's smile was pure arrogance. "keep telling yourself that," he said, his voice thick with pleasure. "but your body's telling a different story." his fingers found your clit, rubbing it with a merciless precision that had you gasping for breath. "you're going to come for me," he whispered, his eyes never leaving yours. "you're going to scream my name."

you clenched your jaw, your eyes squeezed shut. the pressure inside you was unbearable, a maelstrom of pleasure and anger. "never," you gritted out, your voice strained. but your body had other plans. with each thrust, with each caress of his thumb, you felt yourself getting closer to the edge. your nails dug into his back, drawing blood, but he didn't flinch. "you're mine," he murmured, his voice a dark promise. "you're going to come for me."

you could feel it, the wave building, the inevitable climax that washed over you despite your resistance. "fuck," you moaned, the sound a mix of pleasure and despair. your orgasm hit you like a freight train, your body spasming around his cock. you screamed his name, the sound echoing through the clearing. your claws raked down his back, leaving a trail of crimson in their wake. theo's eyes went wild, his thrusts becoming more erratic. "yes," he hissed, his voice a mix of triumph and desire. "you're mine."

his cock twitched inside you, and you could feel his own orgasm approaching. "no," you panted, your voice a mix of anger and pleasure. "i'm no one's." but your words were lost in the moment, the truth of them buried beneath the passion that consumed you both. his teeth sank into your shoulder, the pain a sweet release that only served to intensify your pleasure.

theo's hand tightened around your neck once more as his hips slammed into yours, and you felt yourself go over the edge. your pussy spasmed around him, your juices flooding his cock as you squirted with the force of your climax. "theo," you screamed, the sound a mix of ecstasy and anger. your claws raked down his back, leaving deep furrows in his skin. he growled, the sound vibrating through his chest and into yours.

his thrusts grew erratic, his own orgasm close. you could feel the tension in his body, the desperation in his eyes as he chased his release. "that's it," he murmured, his voice a dark caress. "let go for me." you clenched around him, your nails digging deeper, drawing more blood. the previous wounds you had inflicted on him were gone, healed by his supernatural powers. the pain was a sweet release, a reminder of the control you had in this moment.

his abs were slick with your juices, the muscles tensing and releasing with each powerful stroke. his cock was buried deep inside you, the heat of his seed mixing with the cold anger that still thrummed through your veins. "you're going to come for me," he growled, his teeth grazing your neck. "say it."

you bit your lip, your body already on the edge of your third climax. "no," you whispered, the word a desperate lie. theo's eyes narrowed, his hand sliding up to cup your breast. his thumb flicked over your nipple, sending sparks of pleasure through your body. "you can't lie to me," he murmured, his voice a dark challenge. "not when you're like this."

his teeth sank into your neck again, the pain mixing with the pleasure that was already threatening to overwhelm you. "no," you whimpered, your body arching into his touch. "i can't." but even as the words left your mouth, you felt the beginnings of the orgasm coil in your belly. "yes, you can," he murmured, his voice a seductive purr.

his thumb found your clit again, his touch relentless. you could feel the tension building, the pressure that had only just subsided starting to swell once more. his smile was feral, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. ""just let go." he said, his voice a dark whisper. his thumb circled your clit, his cock still buried deep inside you. your body was already responding, the muscles in your stomach tightening with the promise of another release. "i can't," you gasped, your voice weak with the effort of resisting. "i can't."

but your body had other plans. as his thumb worked its magic, you felt the tension coil within you once more. your hips moved of their own accord, riding the wave of pleasure that was building. "you're so close," he murmured, his voice thick with lust. "just let it happen." you bit your lip, trying to hold back the inevitable, but it was no use. the sensation was too intense, too overwhelming.

you came again, your body shuddering with the force of it. theo's eyes never left yours, his smile one of victory. "you see?" he whispered, his voice a caress. "you want this as much as i do." your anger flared, but it was dulled by the aftermath of your climax. "it doesn't mean anything," you murmured, your voice weak. "it's just sex."

his eyes searched yours, the smugness fading. "is that all you think it is?" he asked, his voice low and serious. "just sex?" you didn't answer, unable to find the words to express the tumult of emotions inside you. "that's all it is," you said finally, your voice firm. "we're enemies."

his grip on your neck loosened, his thumb tracing the line of your jaw. "are we?" he murmured, his eyes searching yours. "after this?" you pushed him away, your chest heaving with the effort of maintaining your composure. "yes," you said, your voice a growl. "we are."

theo pulled out of you, his cock slick with your juices. the sight made you feel a mix of revulsion and desire that had you clenching your fists. "fine," he said, his voice tight with disappointment. "but remember this moment." he leaned in, his breath hot against your ear. "remember how good it felt to be with me."

you jerked away, your eyes flashing with anger. "i'll remember it," you spat, "as the night i fucked the enemy." theo's smile was cold, his eyes hard. "you can call it what you want," he said, "but i'll be thinking of it as the night i claimed you." he slammed the door behind him as he climbed out of the truck, leaving you to gather your scattered clothing.

you pulled on your underwear and skirt, your body still trembling from the intensity of your orgasms. the taste of his blood lingered on your tongue, a bitter reminder of the power he held over you. "this doesn't change anything," you murmured to the empty truck, your voice shaking with the effort of convincing yourself.

as you slammed the door shut behind you, the swealtering night air hit you like a slap in the face, jolting you back to reality. you stumbled away from the truck, your legs unsteady. the forest loomed around you, the trees whispering secrets that you didn't want to hear. your eyes searched the darkness, looking for anything that could distract you from the mess you'd just made.

theo leaned against the truck, his eyes on you. "going somewhere?" he asked, his voice mocking. you whirled around, your fists clenched. "don't," you warned, your voice low and dangerous. "just don't."

his smile was cold, his eyes assessing. "i'll see you around, then," he said, his tone light. with that, he climbed into the driver's seat and started the engine. the headlights flared to life, illuminating the clearing. you watched as he drove away, the red taillights fading into the darkness.

you turned and began the long walk home, the hot air doing little to cool the heat of anger and desire that still coursed through your veins. the moon was high in the sky, casting a silver glow over the forest floor. the trees whispered secrets that you didn't want to hear, the sounds of the night taunting you with every step.

taglist (sorry i didn't ask if you wanted to be tagged, please lmk if you want me to remove you!): @fhaf123, @belovedbastardremus, @aureliaviolet3, @oh--its-just-me

edited 8.19.24

[ateotd-izzy]

it’s nice to have a friend - stiles stilinski x fem!reader

“you been stressed out lately, yeah, me too”

summary: you didn’t have many friends in middle school, not until you met a boy one afternoon. it was nice to have a friend. especially one that lasted as long as stiles did.

“something gave you the nerve to touch my hand”

notes: friends to lovers (obv), it’s just very sweet and fluffy, i just love him sm :3

“it’s nice to have a friend”

☾

the first time you met stiles stilinski was on a cold winter afternoon back in the seventh grade.

snow in beacon hills wasn’t common at all, so you weren’t exactly prepared for the freezing weather.

and to top it all off, while you were in school, you had lost your gloves at some point during the day.

so now you were walking home with the fear that you were going to lose your hands to frostbite.

as you walked, you noticed the boy walking on the sidewalk next to you looking at you while you rubbed your hands together.

“you could borrow one of mine if you’d like.” he suddenly spoke and you turned to look at him.

“what?” 13-year-olds didn’t exactly always have the best manners.

he pulled one of his gloves off of his hand and held it out to you. “you don’t wanna get hypothermia. i did a science report on it, like, two years ago. it’s not cool.”

“who are you?” you asked as you took the glove and slipped it onto your hand.

“oh, right, i’m stiles.” he held out his bare hand to you.

“y/n.” you smiled, shaking his hand with your own non-gloved hand. “sheriff stilinski’s your dad, right?”

“yup.” stiles nodded with a smile. “are you doing anything this afternoon?”

“no… why?”

“wanna hang out?”

this strange and very sweet boy who you had just met was asking to hang out with you.

“what would we do?” you asked curiously as the two of you walked.

“i have a bunch of video games.”

you smiled. “yeah, sounds like fun.”

so stiles walked you to his house where the two of you hung out playing video games in his living room until his dad got home.

by then you had lost track of time and had to go home.

“see you tomorrow, y/n.” stiles smiled from the door as you walked down onto the sidewalk.

“see ya, stiles.”

the next day wasn’t as cold. the snow had all melted and it was warm enough to not have to wear too many layers.

at school, stiles sat at the desk next to yours first period and discreetly passed you a note when the teacher wasn’t looking.

you carefully unfolded it to see his messy handwriting across the lines on the paper.

wanna hang out with me and scott today?

it’s nice to have a friend

five years later you sat beside stiles on the hood of his jeep.

he had parked on the cliff side so the two of you could watch the sunset.

the sky before you was a soft, light pink as the sun had begun sinking behind the horizon.

this night was one where the two of you were free of the troubles of werewolves, banshees, dread doctors and theo raeken, who had recently been sent to hell.

you’d had a crush on the boy sitting beside you, your best friend, for the last two years at least. around the time where all the werewolf troubles began back in your sophomore year.

and this night in particular, you didn’t have a curfew. your parents thought you were staying at stiles’ house for the night, which wasn’t exactly a lie.

most nights you would sneak out when it came to supernatural stuff, but this time it was just you and stiles hanging out.

“wanna play 20 questions?” you asked as the sky began to grow darker, but the pink and orange stayed.

“why? we practically know everything about each other.” stiles chuckled and you shrugged.

“we haven’t been able to just hang out like this lately.” you pointed out. “there’s always been something else.”

so stiles agreed to the game and the two of you played. most of the questions were silly, stuff about movies and games that you already knew the answers to.

but some of the questions were more real. about school and college, or scott’s lycanthropy.

then stiles told you, unprovoked, about how stressed out he had been lately. with theo, donovan, the dread doctors, scott, and the overwhelming fear that everyone was going to leave him behind.

“yeah, i get it. i absolutely get it.” you bumped his shoulder with your own. “but you don’t need to worry. you’ll always have me.”

stiles smiled as he looked at you beside him, while you looked back at the sunset.

he looked down at your hand, which was sitting on the hood of his jeep in between the two of you.

and slowly, despite his nerves jittering, he moved his hand from his leg and sat it beside yours, your fingers brushing against his.

stiles didn’t know that small touch sent what felt like a jolt of electricity through your body and butterflies into your stomach.

then, while looking forward, stiles moved his hand even closer and sat his on top of yours.

your lips fought back the smile that was growing on your face, and stiles saw it from his peripheral vision as he laced your fingers together.

he held your hand tightly in his and you put your head on his shoulder as the sun disappeared from sight.

“i like you, stiles.” you spoke softly and stiles didn’t answer. for a moment you thought you had messed something up, so you lifted your head off his shoulder.

then stiles said the same thing. “i like you, too.”

and then he kissed you.

it’s nice to have a friend

“stiles, put me down!” you exclaimed, your arms wrapped around his neck tightly in fear that he would drop you.

he laughed but slowly helped you stand on the porch.

your hands trailed up his body until they were sitting on his shoulders before you kissed him.

his hands moved to hold your hips and yours drifted up to the sides of his face.

you pulled back and smiled.

“come on, mrs. stilinski, into the house we go.” stiles pulled the keys from his pocket and unlocked the front door.

you and stiles had gotten married just a month ago, not long after you had finished college and he started in the fbi.

as the two of you walked into your house, you took stiles’ hand in yours and intertwined your fingers.

you had moved out of beacon hills and now lived somewhere where it snowed a lot more frequently. that made you happy, because snow always reminded you of the day you first met stiles.

you watched the snow fall outside through the kitchen window while you started to make dinner.

“babe,” you called for stiles from the kitchen and he was before you in a flash.

“yeah?”

“you wanna watch a movie while we eat?” you asked and his face lit up the same way it would back when you were teenagers.

“star wars?” he asked, quirking his eyebrows and pressing his lips together, his own little pleading face.

“sure.” you chuckled and turned to grab something from the fridge.

stiles’ arms wrapped their way around your middle from behind and his chin sat on your shoulder. kissing your cheek, stiles smiled as he hugged you tightly.

“you want help with dinner?” he mumbled against your neck.

“yeah.” you lifted one of your hands back to brush through his hair. “you want to help?”

“of course.” he pressed a few slow kisses to your neck before slowly letting go of you and moving to the counter. “what are we making?”

it’s nice to have a friend

tags: @brvceyamada

[chloe-skywalker]

Nightmares & Sleep Deprived - Theo Raeken

Theo x Fem!reader

Warnings: none that I know of

Word count: 437

Summary: Y/n has nightmares so she try’s not to sleep. Theo notices how sleep deprived she is and try’s to help.

Prompt: “Are you still tired? Here lean against me” -  “When was the last time you slept?”

Masterlist

Teen Wolf Masterlist

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“Are you still tired? Here l;ean against me.” Theo offered his arms wide open for her to lean into him.

“I shouldn’t.” Y/n shook her head looking away from him.

“Why not?” Theo furrowed his brow.

“I’m afraid.” She mumbled looking down at her lap.

There was silence for a while and during that time Theo was thinking about why Y/n might be afraid to sleep, and then it hit him.

“That I’ll disappear again?” Even though it was meant as a question it came out as a statement.

“Hmmmhmm.” Y/n scooting closer to him, she will look at him, she didn’t feel brave enough to.

“I’m right here. I won’t leave you.” Theo spoke softly to her while putting Y/n into him, wrapping her up tightly in his embrace.

“It might not be your choice.” Y/n said out loud but quite enough that if he wasn’t supernatural he wouldn’t have heard it. She finally looked up at him after she spoke.

Y/n was afraid if she closed her eyes Theo would be taken from her. Again. Even if the last time was because Theo told her to close her eyes she wouldn’t have to see him dragged to Hell it still scared her.

Theo eyed her for a moment and he could tell she was really tired so he asked. “When was the last time you slept?”

Y/n looked away with a shrug. “I don’t know.”

Even though Y/n did know he could tell she was lying.

“I can hear your heartbeat, I know you're lying.” Theo pulled back enough to look at her face.

“A week okay.” Y/n sighed, half annoyed and half embarrassed to admit how long it truly had been.

“Y/n -” Theo went to scold her but then he thought on how exactly long a week has been. “You haven’t slept since I came back?”

Y/n looked back at him with tears in her eyes.

“I’m afraid if I do when I open my eyes you’ll be gone.” She admitted in a small voice.

Theo could understand where her fears were coming from. But it hurt him to see her like this. “Please sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up. But you need sleep. Please Y/n/n.”

Theo reasoned Y/n pulling her to lay against him hoping his heartbeat would luol her to sleep. And it did. It worked. Theo vowed to himself that night as she slept in his arms that he was going to do everything in his power to never be taken from her again.

Taglist: @padawancat97

[bamboozledbird]

𝕚𝕗 𝕚 𝕔𝕠𝕦𝕝𝕕 𝕝𝕠𝕤𝕖 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕚 𝕨𝕠𝕦𝕝𝕕 // stiles stilinski imagine

Characters: Stiles Stilinski, fem!reader, Theo Raeken, Lydia Martin, Scott McCall Pairing(s): Stiles x fem!reader, Stiles x you (no use of y/n), Theo x fem!reader, Stiles x ofc Word Count: 7k (bbygurl got away from me oops) Tags: Hurt/a little, itty bit of comfort, angst is my lifeblood i fear, let's play a game of who can find all the noah kahan lyrics Warnings: Underage drinking/drug use (at least in america rip, they're all 19+), suggestive language, some light cheating, i think that's it?, sad girl summer :'(

Request: “You think I like being like this? Every time someone fucking touches you I want to rip their hands off!” for stiles please and thnk you!!!

Part II: after many requests, here’s the happy ending: part two A/N: i am well aware theo is way too nice, and me personally?? could never forgive him for hurting scott mccall, the light of my fucking life. but it's for the plot. the things we must do for the plot of it all. i might make a part two? but this was already long, and i liked the conclusion enough to stop. lemme know if that sounds interesting to y'all. ps: listen to strawberry wine and the view between villages for vibes.

That first night, you drove home—207 miles in less than 3 hours, sobbing the entire way. Didn’t matter that you were right in the middle of finals. Didn’t matter that you had Math 19 at 8:00 in the morning. Nothing mattered except for the ringing in your ears, the blistering echoes of, ‘I can’t do this anymore,’ over and over and over again until you stumbled into the house you grew up in—the house he practically grew up in. He was all over every room, all over your entire goddamn hometown, all over you, and you had this desperate, crawling urge to scrub your skin raw. Strip everything away with turpentine until the shadows of his hands and mouth were gone, until you couldn’t smell cedar and 15 years of summer nights and Sunday mornings. 

That night you cried so hard it scared your sister. She spent most of the night with her back slumped against your bedroom door, fingertips poking through the little crack underneath, just like she did the first night your parents brought you home. She had to know that you were breathing, had to make sure that your little chest was rising and falling in your sweet bassinet—if you were inhaling in-between your fractured sobs. You eventually cried yourself to sleep—like a baby, like a broken heart—and thrashed around sweat-damp sheets and dreams of him kissing someone else on his couch. 

Months later, you finally realize it’s a bit self-involved to think that the universe cares enough about your short, temporal existence to conspire against you…but it certainly feels like it when you tie it all together with red string. After Stiles stopped wanting you, everything just…decayed, rotted, died—so quickly, too quickly for you to bury any of the remains. You’re still grieving Allison, constantly, and currently failing at least half your classes, and, oh yeah, battling literal demons at least three times a week—but mostly, you’re just tired. You’re just so goddamn tired of it all.   

To put it plainly, you’re drowning. 

That must be why the neat lines of text in your Math 20 textbook are swirling into indecipherable whirlpools. It’s just so…frustrating. You get math. Math is your thing. Derivatives shouldn’t ever send you into a bout of angry tears—but you are, you’re angry. Angry at the numbers for blurring into something unrecognizable, angry at yourself for not recognizing them, for becoming a person you don’t know or like. Your lashes clump together, and few mascara-tinted tears drop onto the glossy pages. At least, the cloudy text isn’t a hallucination now. 

 “Are you okay?”

The library is quiet, so quiet that you should’ve heard him coming, but you jump at the sound of Theo’s voice. You don’t know him that well; Theo isn’t really the kind of guy you’d talk to, at least not before everything you knew slipped through your fingers. It’s not like you ever disliked him; it’s just…he’s always been everything you’re not—focused, organized, completely in control. He’s confident but not cocky, smart but not arrogant, ridiculously good-looking but just charismatic enough that you can’t really hate him for all the maiming and scheming he pulled last year. He’s been punished enough, you think, and sure—maybe a part of you feels that way simply because Stiles doesn’t.

You haven’t spoken to Theo much, not really. Scott does most of the talking when he shows up to the occasional pack meeting, and Lydia won’t let him within ten feet of you anyway. Frankly, you don’t realize that he knows your name until he says it. His voice is soft in a way that you know isn’t just because of library conduct. It’s his eyes, you think—they’re warm with a concern you aren’t sure what you’ve done to deserve.

You nod and then blink at the fuzzy pages of your math book, eyes almost vacant, “I just…I don't understand.”

Theo sits down next to you and leans forward, scanning the text briefly, “Which part?”

You flush, “...all of it.”

He doesn’t laugh or roll his eyes like you thought he might. Instead, he pulls his chair closer to yours and reaches for a pencil. “Most people will tell you that derivatives are the ‘instantaneous rates of change.’ That’s what the book says, and it’s kind of true, but you’re right—that doesn’t actually make any sense. Things can’t actually change in a single instant, right? Obviously, change happens between two instances, so what they actually mean is a derivative's the rate of instantaneous change measured as precisely as possible.” Theo’s voice is soft in your ear as he drags his finger across your textbook, connecting the vague definitions to numbers that actually compute through your teary haze.

You sit back and just watch for a minute, a little in awe, as he makes all the squiggles into numbers again—and you haven’t been found more than a few feet away from him ever since. You guess it’s because you’re hoping, against all odds, that he can do the same for your life. At least in some small way, maybe.

It’s definitely easier to show up to Lydia's party with his hand in yours. 

You’re all back in Beacon Hills for the summer, and it’s nice. It really is. During the school year, you’re spread all across the state for the most part—you, Theo, and Lydia at Stanford; Scott, Kira, and Malia at UC-Davis; Liam and Mason, the babies, about to start their senior year of high school (it makes you want to cry if you think about it too long); Derek in…wherever he ends up for a season (it was fun to visit while he was in New York, and you secretly hope he makes a return in the fall); and, of course, there’s Stiles. He’s all the way on the other side of the country for his Quantico internship, and you still can’t escape him. His hands are all over your scent, all over every important moment of your life since pre-school. Sometimes, you think that you’ll always be one breath away from choking on the memory of him. But it’s easier, you remind yourself; it’s easier to be a minute away from home with Theo standing next to you. 

The music is loud in Lydia’s front room, thumping through your chest and sharpening the anxiety crawling through your veins—gnawing at your corneas until a haze of vape and weed and flashing lights consume your vision: pink, blue, green, red, and then pink again.

Theo tightens his grip on your hand and gently pulls you into the kitchen. It’s still loud, but the air is clearer here, and the crowd is thin. There’s a couple you vaguely recognize from high school making out on the granite countertop, too enwrapped in each other’s tongues to notice the mixer-sticky surface, and a couple boys who were on the lacrosse team gather drinks for another round of beer pong behind them. 

“You’re psychic,” you hum, resting your chin against the little dip in Theo’s sternum so that you can grin up at him, “tell the truth.”

He laughs easily and wraps his arms around your waist. The solid weight releases some of the vague unease stubbornly clinging to your synapses. “I solemnly swear that my supernatural abilities end at claws and fangs. I just know you; that’s all.” 

You hum as he sways with you a little and shake your head, “It’s only been a few weeks. You’ve gotta have some help from the other side.”

Theo shrugs and lifts you onto the counter behind him—a non-sticky patch, thankfully—and brushes your hair out of your eyes, “Maybe I’ve been paying attention for a little longer than a few weeks.”

You tilt your head and purse your lips into a pout you hope is even half as cute as the wicked gleam in Theo’s eyes, “How long?”

He shrugs again and ducks down to murmur in your ear, “Maybe since the first grade.”

His breath is warm against your cheek, but you know that’s not the only reason your face feels hot. You push against his chest, pulling a little face, “Shut up.”

Theo laughs and grabs your wrists, kissing your knuckles, “I’m serious! You were so cute with your little pigtails and missing teeth.”

You whine a little, embarrassed as you are as pleased, and hide your face in his neck. It smells good, a little citrusy from his cologne and a little sweaty from the sheer amount of grinding bodies in the house—like a man, like he can and will take care of you. “Stop it. I hated those bangs.”

He pinches your sides a little, “And the way you’d always shoot your hand up first—with the right answer, of course—I was smitten.”

You pull away from his neck and arch your brow, “Was?”

“Am,” he concedes with a soft smile, cupping your cheek and thumbing along your lash line, “am completely smitten.” 

He dips in to kiss you, lips barely an eyelash-width away from yours, when a prim cough pulls him away from his spot in-between your legs. You peer around his shoulder and roll your eyes, albeit fondly, at the stern look on Lydia’s face. She’s always been protective of you, even more so after Allison and the whole Stiles debacle, but you’re a bit tired of the Theo Raeken witch hunt. 

You slip down from the counter and rock onto your tiptoes to kiss Theo’s cheek—mainly to see the pinch in Lydia’s perfectly tapered brows. “Can you put this in the coat room,” you hum against his skin, shrugging off your baggy leather jacket. He knows the real reason you’re sending him away—of course he does, sometimes it feels like he knows everything—but he goes with a smirk anyway because, despite Lydia and Stiles’s suspicions, he’s trying his absolute hardest to redeem himself. 

“You could be a little nicer, y’know,” you reach for a hard lemonade from the ice bucket dripping a puddle of water onto the tile floor. You uncap it on the lip of the massive island and fold your arms over your chest, “He’s been nothing but the perfect boyfriend so far.”

Lydia matches your stance, brows curving, “Boyfriend?”

Heat crawls up your neck to your ears. You haven’t actually discussed labels or exclusivity—you think it’s too early; don’t want to scare him off, but Lydia doesn’t need to know that. “Boyfriend.”

Her curls trickle over her shoulder like the strawberry wine in her cup as she tips her chin and purses her lips into a flat line, “Stiles is here.” 

You try not to react—aren’t entirely sure why you do—and hide your complicated frown behind a sip of lemonade. It’s extra bitter going down. “Okay?”

Lydia shifts her weight from one Jimmy Choo to the other and sighs heavily, “He’s not going to like it.”

A flare of irritation sparks in your gut that you chase with a tip of your bottle. “Okay?” you mutter, wiping the excess liquid away with the back of your hand. A smear of nude lipstick is left behind, and you feel the sudden need to leave some on Theo’s neck for everyone to see. 

“I’m just warning you; it’s going to be a whole thing,” Lydia waves her hand in the air as she takes a dainty sip from her cup. Her pink manicure shines under the lights, and you wonder briefly how she can make every color look good with her red hair.

You hum and lean forward, grin a little sloppy as you sidle up to her side, “That you’ll be on my side for. Obviously.”

Lydia watches you carefully, eyes heavy, and tucks some of the hair falling in your face behind your ear. “Obviously,” she takes your hand, squeezing it tightly, and you feel a little less giggly and a lot more tender. 

You let her pull you into the crowded front room for a dance. It’s a good song, you think. Happy, lots of bass to jump to, and you’re shiny-faced and giddy by the time it’s over. 

Meandering towards the back patio for some fresh air, you pull your tank top away from your torso, gauzy material sticky with sweat and someone’s body glitter. You aren’t entirely sure where Theo ended up, but you take it as a good sign that he’s mingling with your friends—which, bless his crooked little heart, is all he’s ever wanted. 

The night breeze is so nice against your clammy skin that you feel a little lightheaded. You collapse on a padded deckchair and kick your feet up onto a keg, empty, most likely, based on its current state of abandonment. After a moment of hazy tranquility, a red solo cup filled to the brim with an unknown, potent liquid blocks your view of the winking gold embellishments on your boots. 

“You look like you need a drink,” Scott smiles at you from his slight bend over your head.

You take the cup from Scott eagerly and down about half of it to soothe the rawness in your throat—asthma is a bitch in hotboxes, makes you almost consider asking Scott for the bite. “I need about ten,” you hum, licking the little dribble of cherry-something from the corner of your mouth. It’s too sweet, but the ice is easing the beginnings of a headache forming in your temples. 

Scott sits down next to you, and you grumble a little as he nudges your side with his elbow until he has enough room to stretch his legs out too. “You look happy,” he grins at you, eyes crinkly and sweet. “Been a minute since I’ve seen that.”

“I feel happy,” you lean against his side and rest your cup against your cheek. The condensation gathered on the plastic is a godsend against your flushed face. “For the first time in…way too long.”

“Good,” Scott's voice is sincere, in the most genuinely empathic way that only Scott McCall can be, and he gently nudges your foot with his, “I’ve been worried.” He pauses and looks down at the contents of his cup, watches the ice slowly melt into whatever he poured for taste alone—you don’t like the pensive squint in his eyes. “You know I want to trust Theo, right? I really want to believe that he’s changed.”

You sigh a little, but because he only ever wants the best for everyone and, well, because it’s Scott, you say, “But?”

He gives his hands a small frown and taps his finger against the side of his drink, “Not a but, exactly. I do think he’s different now.” The mostly goes unsaid, and you watch him closely, waiting for him to finish. “I just want you to be careful, that’s all. I don’t want you to…rush into anything after, well,” Scott scratches the back of his neck a little and winces, “you know.”

“After Stiles dumped me because, ‘he needed space,’ and then started dating someone new two weeks later,” you finish for him flatly. He hadn’t even been subtle about it. His new girl was all over his Insta within the month—and she’s still fucking stunning in his flannels weeks later. Your stomach turns, but you swallow another mouthful of your dri—rum and Cherry Coke, you finally place the flavor, smiling a little at the memory of getting tipsy on the same drink at Senior prom with Scott, Kira, and…Stiles. It’s a good memory, you decide. You won’t let him take it from you.

“Yeah.” Scott sighs into his drink and then takes a long chug, “I just don’t want to see you get hurt again, you know? None of us do.”

“I know,” you smile at him fondly and kiss his cheek, “and it’s very sweet, but I’m a big girl. I can handle myself.” 

Scott smiles, bright and puppy-like, and then his head cocks with his little sixth-sense tick—also puppy-like, you think with a smirk. Scott’s grin fades and he murmurs, “Three o’clock,” against the rim of his cup.

Your eyebrows furrow, “What?”

Scott laughs, but it’s strained, and then nods towards something across the pool, “To your right.”

You turn your head, expecting to see one of your friends doing something stupid, and freeze momentarily when you meet Stiles’s gaze. His eyes are a little unfocused, murky with whatever’s in his plastic cup, but they sharpen when he sees you. He backs down first, and you polish off your drink, craving the sweet burn in your throat. “I need another drink.”

“You need to talk to him,” Scott says, and he takes your empty cup away from you, like he’s worried you can magically refill it with the simple power of desire. “If you can’t do it for him, do it for me. His brooding is really getting out of control.”

You don’t bother bringing up that Stiles is the one who ended it or that he brought his new girlfriend home with him. “Maybe,” you shoot Scott a sly grin and try to snag his drink from his hands, but your clumsy fingers are no match for his werewolf reflexes, “I do love and cherish you very, very much.”

Scott laughs and ruffles your hair, approaching noogie territory. “Should’ve gone out with me.”

You can’t help but look for him through the fog rising above the heated pool. Stiles’s face is pale in the reflection of the lit water; the shadows ripple across his cheeks when he tugs his girlfriend into a sloppy kiss—Chelsea, you recall, proud that there’s only a little bitterness coating the thought. “Don’t I know it,” you finally say. It’s the churning reflection and the smell of chlorine, you reason; that’s why you feel a bit like throwing up your last couple drinks.

Scott frowns when you don’t swat at his side or make fun of him, like you’d usually do in the face of such ridiculous teasing, and follows your gaze. “But that was never going to happen, huh,” he says quietly. “Not with the…” he trails off, face scrunching as he searches for the right words, “throbbingly in love since birth thing.”

You laugh through the stabbing sensation in your chest. “Throbbingly?”

He waves his free hand as he takes another sip of his drink, “You know what I mean.”

“I really don’t think I do,” you say, a small smile twitching on your face as Scott spills most of his red drink onto his white t-shirt.

He sighs and pulls the soaked material away from his chest, head darting around as he looks for something to mop up the mess. “You guys were just like…always ahead of everybody from the beginning, you know? Brains, love, all of it. I swear you guys were actually born like 30 years old, or maybe it's some kind of reincarnation, soulmate thing—okay, it probably has more to do with the…” 

“Early on-set trauma?” you fill-in for him, sparing him the unpleasantness of bringing up dead mothers and mental illness.

Scott nods and licks his bottom lip before continuing, “I remember this kid had a huge crush on you, like way back in elementary school, and even at nine years old I knew he didn’t have a shot. It was just obvious, you know? It was always going to be the two of you. It was just always gonna end up that way.”

You almost laugh at the sight: Scott dabbing at his shirt with a pink beach towel and oh-so casually confirming that your worst fears aren’t only valid but in fact a reality. Maybe, you really can’t love someone else, not the way you loved him. Maybe, you’re just kidding yourself when you talk about it in the past-tense. Maybe, it really is just the two of you, even if it’s all in your head now. 

“I’m definitely not drunk enough for this,” you try to sound flippant, but your words are as shaky as the hand you're raking through your hair. It’s already a mess, but you can’t stop. Your hands need to do something. 

“Then you’re really not gonna like what’s coming next,” Scott says as he jerks his thumb towards something behind him.

You turn your head, and your eyes widen when you see Stiles trudging towards the two of you with his hands stuffed into his jeans pockets. The chair’s metal frame squeaks with Scott’s shifting weight. He clamors to his feet, mumbling something about cleaning his shirt, and you give him your most intimidating glower, “Scott, if you walk away from me right now, I swear to fuckin’ god, I’ll never—Hi.” Your tone is clipped, short and to the point, when Stiles stops in front of you.

“Hey,” Stiles’s voice is dull, void of emotion, and so is his face. He stares at you, and you wish you knew what was really flickering behind that burnt umber and citrine honey. There was a time when you would’ve known—when you always knew. It’s so strange, you think, so strange how quickly someone can become a stranger.

You clear your throat and tuck your legs underneath yourself, tugging on the hem of your short skirt to maintain some semblance of modesty. His eyes still dart to your upper thigh, lingering on the strip of skin that’s bared when you sit upright. It’s only for a split second—but it’s enough. He’s seen it before, after all. Felt it with his long fingers and open palms. Dragged his lips across it, and left wet, open-mouth kisses along every inch—but he still looks like he wants to sink his teeth into the supple flesh one last time. 

You swallow, hard, and stand, “So…how’ve you been?”

“Fine,” he replies flatly. “Obviously not as good as you.”

Your lips purse as your eyes narrow, “What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“First Theo Raeken, now Scott McCall: True Alpha, God among werewolves, Messiah of Beacon Hills. I’m genuinely impressed—bottom of my heart, babe. I mean, s’quite the body count if we’re talkin’ claws and body hair alone,” he spits. Despite the slight slur in his words, his consonants are barbed and serrated at the edges. They prick your skin and sting long after he finishes, and you know they’re going to follow you all the way home.

“Don’t be a dick,” you snap, wrapping your arms tightly around your biceps. The chill isn’t so pleasant anymore.  

“What? I’m just giving you the props you’ve so clearly earned. You’ve got the magic touch.” Stiles cants his head in a way that distinctly reminds you of someone else—a monster who stole the face of the boy you loved a lifetime ago. “I’d ask how good the sex is, but I already know. It’s that thing you do with your tongue, right? When you’re givin’ head? That’s how you get ‘em, huh. Suckers—” his drink spills on his shoes when he lets out a sharp chortle, “suckers. Didn’t even mean to do that.” 

You stare at him, eyes burning, and try to determine exactly how drunk he is. “Stop it.” You do your best to look more annoyed than devastated—the last thing you need is to start crying like you still care. He can't win; you won’t let him, not like this. “Just stop. It’s pathetic—you’re pathetic.”

Something complicated rolls over his face, and Stiles clenches his fists, “Whatever. Guess it’ll be too late to say told’ya so when he rips your heart out and broils it—or whatever the fuck psychopaths do for fun these days.” 

Your face crumples a little—not because you think Theo would ever actually hurt you but because Stiles sounds so ambivalent about the possibility. Sometimes you hate him, sometimes a little, sometimes a lot—but you’ve never stopped caring, not once. You never stop worrying about if he’ll make it out alive, if he'll survive with all his breakable bones and fragile skin intact. You find yourself staring at the ceiling until the sun rises, dwelling on all the horrific, life-or-death situations he’ll end up in when he graduates from the Academy years from now. Stiles was your best friend years before he was your boyfriend. Did all that really not matter now? Just because of something as stupid as a breakup? It’s just so…high school. You really thought it’d been…more. 

Everything. You used to think it was everything.

“Stay the fuck away from me, Stiles,” you shove past him, stumbling a bit over your boots’ chunky heel and a little too much rum. 

He doesn’t follow you, and you should be glad. You should be happy that he isn’t there to witness the black smears under your eyes or the snot you’re trying to hide with a few discreet sniffles. You should be grateful that he doesn’t see Theo pull you into his side and take you home, grateful that he can’t ruin the soft kisses Theo rains down on the crown of your head and the way he doesn’t push to come inside after you say your parents are gone.

But you aren’t, and you hate yourself for it. 

You barely manage to wipe off what’s left of your makeup with a damp towel and throw on some clean clothes before you tumble into bed. You’re still sweaty, grimy with tears and a night of dancing, but the rum is hitting hard, and you just want to go to sleep and forget he ever existed.

You’re halfway between sleep and consciousness in the early hours of the morning when you hear a loud thud against your bedroom window. The thudding continues, and with a great sigh you slip out of your sheets, hissing when your bare feet land on the cold floor. You slowly shuffle towards the bay window, trying to forget it's where you had your first kiss, and kneel on the cushioned bench. You have to rub at your eyes a few times when you see Stiles trying to break into your house. You only unlock the latch after you convince yourself that you’re going to push him off of the roof into the rose bushes two stories below, and then, of course, you sit back on your heels so that he has room to crawl through the narrow opening. 

“When the fuck did you start locking your window?” Stiles stumbles into your room and catches himself against the floor with his palm, feet still dangling over the windowsill. You take great pleasure in shoving his legs off of the window seat and watching him fall face-first onto the carpeted rug. He grunts when he lands and rubs his jaw as he sits up, “Guess I deserved that.” 

His lips part when he gets a good look at you, backlit by the moon and all his worst mistakes. You’re in an old t-shirt from middle school, bleach stains all along the left shoulder, and a pair of baggy sweatpants with ratty holes around the hem from years of dragging against the ground. Your face is still tacky with tears, eyes red-rimmed and bloodshot, and Stiles is pretty sure he’s never seen anything more beautiful in his entire life.

You shift uncomfortably, pull your knees to your chest, and shiver as the night air drifts through the open window, “Still drunk?” 

“Not so much,” he holds up a mostly steady hand.

“Still a fucking asshole?”

“Probably.” Stiles bites his lip and shrugs, “Definitely.”

You stare at him, sniffling quietly, hoping that he can’t hear how pathetic it sounds, “Stiles, what are you doing here?” 

He drums his fingers against his thighs and shrugs again. You want to smack him. And hold him. And maybe drink some more liver poison until the school year starts again. “Dunno, just started walkin’, n’ I ended up here.” Stiles closes his eyes, and his lashes are so strikingly dark against his pale skin. “I always end up here,” he whispers like a vow, like a prayer, like forever. 

You dig your toes into the bench and swallow a hiccup. “Don’t,” your protest is weak, and you blame it on your sore throat. “You can’t say shit like that. It’s not fair.”

“I know,” Stiles rubs a hand over his face. He’s in need of a shave, you notice, or…maybe not. You kind of like the stubble the more you get used to it—your tipsy, sleep-deprived mind stupidly wonders what it’d feel like between your thighs. Stiles sighs, returning your attention to far more unpleasant thoughts, “But I just want to.” He leans onto his palms and tips his head back between his shoulders, shaking his head at the ceiling. “I just wanna say it all, all the things I thought while you were gone. Knew I would the second I saw you.”

“You’re—” your tongue is thick as you struggle for words over the conflicting emotions wrangling each other in your throat, “you’re so fuckin’—you can’t just come here and act like—” You rub aggressively at your eyes and push yourself to your feet, “You need to go, Stiles. I want you to go.”

Stiles stands with you and cards his fingers through his hair. It’s long, curling around his ears, and you turn your gaze away from him, staring at the wall and digging your fingers into your forearms to stop yourself from reaching for him. “Can we just…talk?” he whispers, whether it’s for his sake or yours, you’re not entirely sure. He looks small, scared, but you can’t tell if he’s afraid for you or of you. “Just for a little bit. I need…I just need another minute. That’s all, and then I’ll go. Promise.”

I need. I need. I need. It’s always what he needs on his time. You cross the floor with wild eyes and snap, “What do you want to talk about? Huh? How you left me for someone else, or how I’m such a fucking whore for moving on?”

He grits his teeth and grabs your wrists, long fingers overlapping around the delicate bones when you try to yank away from his firm grip. “You think this is what I want?” He doesn’t yell. Somehow, that’s worse. “You think I like being like this? Every time someone fucking touches you I want to rip their hands off!”

You thrash in Stiles’s arms, and his pained expression is blurry through your wet glare, “You had me! I was yours! I was so fucking in love with you, and then you—you just ended it and moved on, like it was nothing.” Your chest heaves, a stark contrast to the gentle quiver in your bottom lip. Your voice drops to something almost inaudible; it's the only way you can get through this while you're crying, the only way you can force the words through your tender throat, “Like I was nothing.”

Your cries turn into sobs when Stiles pulls you into his arms, and they wrack through your entire body when he kisses your hair and whispers sweet nonsense in your ear. You struggle for a moment longer, and then there's nothing left. You've given him everything. You sag into him, legs sinking with your full weight until he wraps his arms around your waist and presses you tighter to his chest. “I got scared,” Stiles whispers against the crown of your head when your cries peter into hiccups, and your next whimper shudders through your shoulders. He rests his palms against the small of your back and inhales the sweet scent of your shampoo, ducking his head down to kiss your forehead, “You were so far away, and so, so perfect, and I missed you all the fucking time.”

Stiles pauses, but it’s not for you. It’s a stall; you can feel his knee bounce and his fingers twitch. You wait, face buried in his collarbone, too busy trying to breathe to even think about speaking. After a moment, could’ve been seconds, could’ve been hours, he squeezes you—almost until it hurts, and it feels like he’s terrified that you’re just another one of the shadows on your bedroom walls. “I couldn’t ask you to transfer from Stanford to some fuckin’ state school in Virginia, so I fucked everything up ‘cause I guess...at least then it was my choice—and I know that just makes it worse. I know that. Because that means I chose to ruin it, I decided to hurt you…and I’m so fucking sorry. Just so unbelievably, life-ruiningly sorry.”

And there it is. The apology you’ve been waiting for, dreaming of, fantasizing about in every shower, in every cafe line, in every early morning class—and it’s just so…hollow. It sits between the two of you, heavy and horridly inadequate. “You found someone else,” you whimper into his shoulder, clasping at his t-shirt and wetting the white collar with your tears and runny nose—and you wish, more than anything, that this could be enough. “How could you find someone else that quickly?”

Stiles freezes, stops rubbing your back and rocking you from side-to-side, and it’s just jarring enough to remind yourself how dangerous it is to be in his arms. You step back and wrap your arms around yourself instead, and Stiles watches you with something hopeless all over his face. “I was just trying to prove that I didn’t make the biggest fucking mistake of my life,” he says, but he says it to his shoes. You wonder who he’s hiding from: himself or you. “Didn’t work, obviously.”

You just stare at him, arms limp by your sides, and shake your head a little. “What are you doing here, Stiles?” your voice is clotted with mucus and defeat, and it breaks halfway through along with your knees. You lean against the wall and close your lids so that you don’t have to see his eyes: so vast, so deep, so damn pretty—you’re suffocating in them. “What do you want from me?”

He’s relentless. Stiles steps forward, and there’s nowhere for you to go. “I want you.” And that’s the thing, isn’t it? There’s the rub. It’s always hunger, no sating. No happy ending. 

“Nothing’s changed.” You tilt your head and wring your fingers in the hem of your t-shirt, tugging every so often, “I’m still going back to Stanford, and you’re still going back east in the fall.” UPenn. Criminology, obviously. You never got the chance to congratulate him. 

“I know,” he’s right in front of you now, waiting for you to push him away. You don’t.

The back of your head hits the wall as you tip your chin up to look at him, “And I have Theo, and you have…her.”

“I know,” he braces his hands next to the sides of your head, watching your lips move without any shame, breath hot against your skin. 

“Stiles…” you plead with him through your lashes, asking for mercy, on hands and knees begging him to turn around and leave.

“Tell me you don’t want me.” Stiles rests his forehead against yours, “Tell me it’s over, and there’s nothing I can do to fix this.” 

“You already know,” you close your eyes and shake your head, nose rubbing against his, “you know I’d be lying.”

“You love me.” It’s not a question. He knows. He’ll always know.

You shake your head again, and Stiles can taste the salt on your lips, “Doesn’t matter.”

“I love you,” Stiles whispers, carding his fingers through your hair.

“Too late,” your lips brush against his, feather-light, and catch on the chapped center of his mouth.

He kisses you, cups your jaw like you’re ineffably precious, and you feel like you can breathe for the first time in months. Stiles tilts his head a little, and his tongue is gentle in its prodding, almost sweet—but he grabs onto your hips like he wants to eat you alive. You just might let him, you think, when you feel his stubble scrape against your neck as he trails a balmy line of kisses towards your collarbone. 

You wind your fingers in his hair and tug to keep yourself on your feet. “We ca—ah,” he licks along your pulse, on purpose, and you shiver, “we can’t do this.”

Stiles hums against your cheek. “And yet, here I am, sliding my hands under your shirt, trying to cop a feel.” His fingers dip under your shirt. They’re cold on your bare stomach, and you flinch a little. Dizzyingly, you remember where you are, who you’re with, and who's going to text you in the morning to make sure you’re okay.

“We really can’t do this,” you whisper, slipping your hands from his hair to his arms. You pull them away gently and tip your head back from his persistent mouth, “I’m not going to hurt Theo the way you hurt me, and I’m not going to let you do this to someone else.”

“It’s not the same,” he says, gravelly and thick. He turns away from you, paces the length of your room a few times, and throws his hands around like he can change your mind if he gestures hard enough, “You know it’s not the same.” Stiles stops abruptly and shakes his head, seemingly at nothing—and then he’s back in front of you before you can catch your breath. He places his hands on your shoulders and then slides his palms to your biceps, just holding onto you. Not clutching, not squeezing, just a light touch that you can’t seem to break away from. 

“You’ve been my best friend for 15 years,” Stiles licks his bottom lip, and you watch him with wide eyes and a blitzing heart, “and I’ve loved you for well over half of ‘em—just plain wanted you even longer.” He slips his hand down your arm to your hand and tangles his fingers with yours, lifting them to rest over his skittering heartbeat, “You’re mine, and I’m yours. That’s how it is. That’s how it’s always been. That’s how it should be.”

You want to say it back, you do, but you just can’t. Not with all the unresolved details wriggling in your ear. “You brought her home, Stiles. You can’t just…just introduce her to your dad and cheat on her all in the same day.”

“Technically, cheat on and then dump,” he tries to smile, but it’s not convincing. Not with the guilt dimming his eyes.

“That’s not funny,” you snap, but the guilt is good. He wouldn’t be the man you know, the boy you grew up with, if he didn’t feel at least a little guilty about the whole thing.

“Dad’s out of town,” Stiles admits quietly, and for some reason, that means more to you than his apology, than his kisses, than his hand in yours. You didn’t realize how much the thought had been bothering you until now—destroying you one post at a time. “I only brought her because I knew you were going to be here with…him.” He shrugs a little, “Frankly, I think she knows. She aced behavioral science.”

You roll your eyes and huff, “You’re an asshole.”

“I know,” he concedes and kisses the back of your hand, continuing along the row of your knuckles, “but I’m in love with you, and it’s become abundantly clear that I always will be.”

Your bottom lip trembles with the desire to give in to what you want, but your hand twists away from him with what you know is right—even though it feels so horrendously wrong. “I can’t do this to him, Stiles. He’s been through so much, and he’s been so good to me, and he’s trying so hard to—”

“But you don’t love him!” Stiles hisses. It’s the loudest he’s been all night, but you don’t flinch from the volume. It’s the truth of it all, the vile honestly you can’t hide from that makes you recoil.

You look at the ceiling through your lashes, an old trick to fight the tears welling in your tear ducts. Some girl in middle school told you about it in the bathroom, and you try to remember her name and what cloying body spray she was spritzing instead of thinking about how easy it would be to let Stiles crawl into your bed and make you forget about everyone and everything that isn’t him. “I should,” you finally murmur throatily, biting on your lip, “maybe I could…someday.”

Stiles whips his head towards your face and takes a little stumbling step backwards, “You don’t believe that.” You’re sure that he wishes he sounded more confident, but he gives himself away with the hand rubbing the back of his neck, “Say you don’t believe that.”

“You need to go, Stiles.” You clutch at your arm with your other hand and step back towards your bed, further away from him and the wet film over his eyes. “I’m serious. I need you to leave.”

He opens his mouth and then scrubs his arm over his face, wiping away the incriminating wet gleam on his cheeks with the sleeve of his flannel. “Okay,” his throat bobs with the strength of his swallow, “yeah, okay.”

You wait until he reaches your bedroom door to crawl onto your bed. You curl in on yourself, like a child, ad press your face into your legs, your knees to your chest, your back against the headboard—but Stiles pauses before you can really fall apart.

Stiles rests his hand against the doorframe and chews on his cheek, on his words, on the thought of you, and then he says, “I’m still breaking up with her. You don’t…you don’t owe me anything—that’s fucking putting it lightly, I know—but I’m still breaking up with her.” He lifts a shoulder and smiles, a little sad but so true, “There’s no one else for me. There’s never going to be anyone else…just thought you should know.”

He’s gone by the time you look up from your kneecaps. Good. You were this close to giving in. This close to throwing yourself over the edge for someone who’s dropped once before, and you’re still cleaning up the mess he left behind. You should be proud of yourself, happy that you weren’t weak enough to say yes, yes, a million, billion, trillion times yes.

But you aren’t, and you hate yourself for it.

[greer2301]

Theo Raeken X Liam Dunbar X Fem Reader

MDNI!

Thiam X Human fem reader

You're beautiful. Pale ivory skin, blushed cheeks, plump build, wonderful green eyes, unfortunately for them you're also beautifully human.

Theo and Liam watched as you hung, a battery hooked up to your body delivering shock after shock from the turning hand of Gerard Argent. Your body soaked and shivering or maybe you shook from convulsions, truthfully they couldn't tell as they wolfed out and tried to help you attacking every warm body near by. The fighting only stopped when Scott arrived, accidentally killing the old hunter as Liam and Theo helped you down.

A trip to the hospital to see Melissa, a check up from Deaton and you were finally home wrapped up in Liam's spare lacrosse joggers and one of Theo's sweaters. Criminal Minds played on the TV for noise as you just rested your head on the arm of the couch, the only sound other than that was your cat messing around with his catnip mouse.  Liam sat beside you first, his hands gently massaging your thighs as he wasn't quite sure what to say yet. Theo followed sitting next to the couch playing with your hair hanging over the edge, you knew what was coming.

They've told you, Scott and Stiles have told you. Hell you've even thought it a few times, humans shouldn't get mixed up with the supernatural business here in Beacon Hills. You couldn't help it tho, the second you laid eyes on the beautiful blue eyed explosive Beta you fell hook line and sinker. You only dug a deeper hole for yourself when you and Liam fell for Theo, the way he protects yous and takes you both seriously even when you sound off your rocker with theories. When anyone would speak out about the relationship your defense had always been, making a point that Stiles has been involved since day one and no one has pushed him away.

"I know, I know what you're thinking. I don't care what you're going to try and reason with, or how bad you want to fight me on it. I love you both. I do not care what I have to fight to keep loving you, I know what I feel for you is worth everything because I will only feel it once in my life. So, no we aren't breaking up, and I won't be going anywhere and if you want to fight about it fight with each other because I won't even entertain it." You tell them, not bothering to look at them as you feel both of them tense and then look to each other. "Sugar, things aren't going to get any easier" Theo says as he rests his head on the cushion.

"Nothing worth having is easy Theodoré" with that you stand and walk into the bedroom, resuming the show in there tucked under the big black duvet. After some time Theo comes in and lays beside you, his hand trailing over the blanket and resting over your hip. Liam comes in after and turns you over to your side so he can lay behind you and be the big spoon, his body heat warming up the underneath of the blanket making you slightly drowsy. "You want to know why we work?" You ask, your voice just above a whisper. "Why do you think?" Liam asks as he rests his head on your shoulder. "Theo would kill for us, I would be killed for us and you, you always save us but you would live for us." You whisper as you look between them.

Liam breaks first, he grabs your chin turning your face to kiss you, his hands pulling your waist closer as he sticks his tongue past your lips wrapping his around your own. Theo kisses your exposed neck, Liam's fingers work your nipples through the light sweater you stole from Theo. Your moans are being swallowed by Liam as he dominates your mouth, your fingers curling in Theo's hair as he sucks his mark into your unmarked ivory skin. Liam removes his mouth from yours turning you to Theo as he starts peppering your neck with kisses, smirking as Theo swallows your moan as he found your sweet spot. His hands trailing from the back of your shoulder to your covered ass as he works over your cheeks.

You can't help it as you rutt your hips back into him, his hardening length causing your already wet pussy to drool. Liam groans as you push back harder becoming more needy for his cock, Theo doesn't bother to swallow your moans anymore as he focuses on rubbing your clit having snuck his hand into your pants. Liam reaches back into the drawer of the bedside table and takes out the finger condoms, actual condoms and numbing-cooling lube. He pushes down your pants and puts his covered prepped fingers on your hole massaging it at first.

Theo's fingers skillfully manipulate your clit as he finger fucks you, keeping you on your side by the arm that's under your head, your eyes closed in pleasure as your jaw slackens with the pace Theo keeps your moans leaving you almost breathlessly. Liam kisses your neck before pushing one finger in, your moans only increase as you enjoy the feeling of being fuller. Liam waits a minute before adding his second finger and scissoring them to help stretch you out, between Theo's fingers fucking in and out of you and Liam's prepping you needed to cum. Theo felt it, loving the way your pussy pulsated and contracted around his digits. "Mmm-mm, not yet baby" Theo tells you, his face beside your ear peppering kisses just below as he admires your fuck face.

Liam adds his third finger and you nearly lose it, your pussy gushes more slick as you fight back your orgasm your stomach muscles contracting as your body shakes, the feeling of being completely full nearly too much to bear. Liam kisses your back along your spine tattoo, loving the way you shake against them, disposing of the finger condoms Liam places the actual condom on his cock, Theo moves you to lean with your back against the pillows propped up a little. "Come on pretty girl, cum for us" Liam whispers in your ear as he manipulates your nipples, Theo's fingers quickly thrusting into you and your juices squelching as your pussy weeps. You shake as your body listens to their command, the ball snapping off the tether as your body creams and leaks more slick.

Liam moans just from watching, scooping your cream with a finger and sucking it off with another moan. Theo smirks, diving face first into your pussy licking from your opening to your clit letting out a moan that vibrates your core making you gasp. Theo sucks and licks your cum until it's gone, small tears have formed at the corners of your eyes and your body convulses. Liam watches with hungry eyes his hand stroking his hard length as you let out nearly chocked sobbed moans, leaning over your side he claims your lips as Theo finishes his work on your pretty pussy. "You taste so fucking good baby" Theo praises as he comes back up for air.

Liam helps you get into position, one all of you enjoy as you're on your knees on a hard pillow between them. Theo aligns himself with your hole as Liam kisses your shoulder and does the same to your rear, Theo can't help but smirk at the barley functional fucked out look on your face, Liam having seen it when Theo's face was between your legs was something Liam will have ingrained in his brain forever. Theo kissed you as he and Liam began sliding into your holes, your body feeling unbelievably full as their lengths bottom out pulling a loud moan from your parted lips as Theo lets his head fall back with a groan. Liam sighs as he rests his head between your shoulder blades pressing light kisses to your tacky damp skin. Their hands holding each others while on your hips holding you in place, their pace slow as we all get used to the position.

You pull Theo's mouth to yours with one hand passionately kissing him as you fight back moans, your other hand found a home in Liam's hair as he peppered kisses along your back, soft moans leaving his mouth as he looks to the mirror on the wall across from the bed watching his boyfriend fuck their girlfriend while he fucks her cute little ass, it was almost enough for him to cum right there.

Theo turns your head back and you bring Liam's head forward connecting your lips aggressively, moans leaving both of your mouths as your teeth clash together and Theo kisses your chest while they pick up speed. Your hands leave their bodies to play with your nipples, their hands gravitating to touch each other as your peak becomes closer again.

"S'close" you whimper out your neck slack and head leant back against Liam's shoulder as Liam and Theo make out passionately beside your face adding to the incoming climax, Liam's hand trails down your body to your clit rubbing circles as he and Theo place kisses to the closest skin they could reach as your body tenses. "Cum with us baby" Liam whimpers as he speeds up, Theo moans as you clench around him Liam's throaty moan pushes both of you over the edge as yous cum together and Liam shoots into the condom. Theo's thick hot cum painting your pretty pink walls as your juices coat his cock and your cream creates a ring at the base of his length.

They hold you tight to them as they pull out a whimper leaving your mouth as Liam places you onto the bed and discards the condom coming back with two wet wipes, he hands Theo one and uses the other to clean up the mess between your thighs and your bum. Liam kisses your cheek and places Theo's sweater back on you properly before tucking you in, he hands Theo clean boxers and puts on a pair himself before crawling in bed behind you holding you close, Theo kisses Liam's cheek before crawling in bed in front of you and slinging an arm over you and Liam pulling the string on the lamp to shut the light off before getting under the blanket.

[kitkatkitzune]

NO ONE SHOULD BE ALONE ON CHRISTMAS

Pairing: Theo Raeken x Fem!reader

Summary: You can’t get into the holiday spirit, not with a certain Chimera on your mind.

Warnings: Fluff, One use of Y/N, Inconsistencies in the tense it’s written in (my bad)

Notes: Merry Christmas to all who celebrate!!

Word Count: 991

———————

You knew that he was the bad guy. Emphasis on ‘was’. Theo Raeken was different after coming back from hell and anyone with eyes could see that.

The pack still didn’t trust him and you couldn’t blame them but you still felt sympathy for the chimera.

You couldn’t shake the thought of him from your head as you sat in Derek’s flat. Everyone was there. Everyone except for him. Even Peter was there! It didn’t make sense to you how they could forgive Peter after he repeatedly screwed you all over but couldn’t even give Theo a chance to redeem himself.

The worst part was that Theo was actively trying to be better, Peter never changed. Theo had helped you all fight the Ghostriders, he had fought the hunters, and now that everything had calmed down, he was still trying to be good. Trying to unlearn all the bad he was taught.

Your thoughts are interrupted when Kira waves her hand in front of your face, “Are you okay?”

��Hm?” you hum, looking up to see everyone looking at you, “Oh, I’m just wondering when we’re going to open the secret santa gifts…”

Liam and Stiles both cheer at the mention of presents, dashing towards the large Christmas tree you had bullied Derek into putting up. You laugh a bit at their antics as they pass out the gifts, not noticing the way Kira glances at Scott to see if he also noticed your behavior. He nods and mouths, ‘I’ll talk to her’.

Everyone begins to open their gifts, you had Stiles for secret santa and had gotten him a Darth Vader action figure that you knew he wanted. He practically squeals like a child when he sees the collectible and you let out a little laugh at his reaction.

Malia had you for secret santa, something you already knew because she didn’t understand the concept of it and immediately told you. She got you a large bag of Hershey’s Kisses, she said she remembered you eating them once and that food was the best gift. Malia failed to hide her annoyance when the gift she received wasn’t food related.

After opening your gift, you began to get lost in your head. You were trying to be happy but you couldn’t be when you knew a certain chimera was out there, all alone on Christmas.

Scott sets a hand on your shoulder, making you nearly jump out of your seat.

“What’s on your mind?”

You shrug, not wanting to admit the truth, knowing he won’t like it, “Nothing… just zoned out.”

“You know I can tell when you’re lying.”

You groan, cursing him and his werewolf abilities, “It’s fine, Scott.”

He sighs, “Listen, if you need to leave… or just want to go home… you can. No one is going to be upset, just don’t leave without telling someone, we don’t need to be trying to hunt you down only for you to be curled up on your couch.”

You laugh a bit, considering the idea before you tilt your head, “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.”

“Then I’m going to head out… I’m not feeling well,” it wasn’t a complete lie, “tell everyone I went home?”

Scott nods, pulling you into a hug before walking you to the door.

That’s how you got here, driving around Beacon Hills, looking for Theo’s truck. You had seen it parked all around town in different spots and you had a sinking feeling that he was staying in it.

It didn’t take you long to find him, he was pulled off the road, near the woods. You slowly approach the truck and peek in the back window. There’s Theo, curled up and crammed in his back seat. You knock on the window of the truck and he jumps awake, his eyes go wide at the sight of you.

He reaches into the front of the truck and unlocks the door so he can roll down the window, “Y/N?” he calls out.

“Hey Theo…”

He rubs the sleep from his eyes, “What are you doing here? Is everyone alright?”

You nod, “Everyone’s fine…” you glance at the blankets he has piled around him to try and keep warm, “Do you wanna come sit in my car? The heats on.”

Theo stares at you for a moment, trying to figure out what you’re getting at, what ulterior motive you could have. He thinks of many but decides that it doesn’t matter, he’d do near anything right now to get warm.

So he agrees, this is how you end up with Theo Raeken in the passenger seat of your car, sitting in silence. You stare ahead as he stares at the side of your head. You had been thinking of this moment all night and now that you were here, you had no idea what to say.

You decide to reach for the bag of kisses and silently tilt the bag towards him to offer him some of the chocolate. Theo takes one, popping the kiss into his mouth all while keeping his gaze locked on you.

After another moment, he breaks the silence, “Why are you doing this?”

You turn to him, “What do you mean?”

“Being nice to me,” Theo clarifies, “after everything I’ve done, to you and your friends.”

“Because I think you deserve a second chance regardless of what Scott and my friends think.”

“I tried to kill Scott.”

You roll your eyes, “Everyone has tried to kill Scott, Peter tries to kill him every other day and we keep him around.” you smile at him, “Now, how about we go watch some cheesy Christmas films while drinking hot chocolate in a nice warm house?”

Theo stays silent, observing you and how you seem so genuine towards him. He had never met someone who was so kind to him.

You put your car in drive, “Besides, no one should be alone on Christmas.”

[jpnriikicore]

── older

paring theo raeken x fem!reader, word count 727, genre fluff and angst, music recommendation older isabel larosa authors note my favorite writing piece 🫶🏻🫶🏻 ( masterlist )

you knew that scott mccall would never like the idea of his little sister hanging around with theo. so, you snuck around together pretending that you hated one another around the pack, but only you two know that was far from the truth. the pack would never speak to you again if they knew that you was with somebody like theo raeken. you find a thrill of sneaking around beacon hills tiptoeing around the pack.

he wasn’t so sure about your relationship in the beginning afraid you was too young, but you promised him with the classic saying "I’m mature for my age, age is just a number." which was true. you had to mature faster than most. always been told that you was an old soul. you had to take on more burdens and responsibilities. you started working at the ice rink at fourteen to help with the bills. he’s eighteen and your not even old enough to have a drivers license yet.

when theo first came back into beacon hills he didn’t actually believe you would be so dumb and naive enough to fall for his manipulation. his original plan was to make you fall for him to gain trust among the pack. if the youngest had full trust with theo then everybody would follow.

of course he didn’t plan on becoming so immersed with the youngest of the pack. he is so enamored with you. that he couldn’t follow his plan. he couldn’t risk hurting you. he would set fire to the world if you asked. kill anybody who threatened you.

he didn’t mind keeping your relationship under wraps. of course he got jealous of any guy who spoke to you. it was unusual that the poor guy would get threatened or maybe even killed. the murders count went up in beacon hills after he arrived back in town by just simply eliminating any guy who spoke to you. they just mysteriously disappeared the next day.

after all the supernatural shit happened in this town you needed a break. you and theo plan to get out of town for the summer. being with theo makes you forget about the massive weight on your shoulders. soon, scott will leave for college and you will have to step up and take responsibility for the supernatural of this town. soon, everybody will leave. you would never get a normal adolescent experience.

and with the your father being back into town didn’t help either. you were certain you heard your mom weep the other night because of it. you couldn’t stand listen to her be sad. the same old harsh feeling you had for him as a kid rosed to the surface once again.

theo parked his truck outside of where you work, the ice rink. all of his attention on you, as he wiped your tears that were falling from your beautiful eyes. the heavy raindrops hitting the outside of his truck matching how you feel. his thumb comfort rubbing your cheekbone.

"everything will be fine," he whispered, his hand finding it’s way to cup your bare thigh. his thumb rubbing smoothing circles on your warm skin. his cold hand and rings send a shiver down your spine.

to be honest he wasn’t convinced himself that everything was going to be fine. he knew that the supernatural in town was taking a toll on you especially after the nogitsune possessed you. after scott "killed" the dark kitsune spirit he possessed you for quite some time. sometimes you believe that the kitsune still lives inside of you. you enjoy the misery that you cause others now. thoughts that you didn’t have before now rise to the surface of your mind.

you should have stopped stiles and scott from going out late at night to find a stupid dead body, but instead you gladly agreed on going. where everything changed. where scott changed. where stiles changed. where you changed.

he kissed your lips tasting your salty tears that has slipped off your face onto your bare thighs that your sundress has failed to cover. "everything will be fine, i promise."

his forehead gently touched yours. you smile and flutter your eyes closed at his touch. your hand reached up to hold onto his bigger hand.

everything will be fine as long as you have, theo raeken by your side.

© JPNRIIKICORE, 2023

[multifandomworldsposts]

Day 28 of Kinktober: Keeping a Secret With Theo Raeken

pairing: Theo Raeken x fem!reader

warning: making out, protect sex

Y/N’s POV

He’s been acting odd lately and I’m kinda scared about why he’s acting strange.

One day, I felt like someone was listening to me but I never talked to anyone in my class, Theo and I never talked this day so I’m actually terrified on what’s going on.

10:30 PM

I’m trying to sleep until I hear rustling in some bushes so I check where the noise is coming from. I see something, it looks like a dog. I go downstairs to check closer, (I know how dumb of me), I grab a bat to protect myself. I walk around my house where the bushes are and I see a wolf or a dog tail, the wolf looks at me, those eyes look familiar to me, it can’t be Theo, right?

“Theo?” I ask.

The wolf approaches me. It can’t be Theo.

“Is that you?” I question.

The wolf let’s me pet him, it’s Theo.

I allow him inside my house and he sits where he normally would sit when he would wait for me if we’re going out somewhere. I can’t believe he’s been keeping a secret from me and this is the secret, him being a wolf.

“Theo, I can’t believe that you’re a wolf.” I say to him.

The way he looks at me, his eyes are saying he’s sorry. He licks my face and I giggle.

“I can’t believe that a wolf who’s my boyfriend just licked me.” I chucked.

Theo smiles and walks away from me and goes to a hallway where my bedroom is. I follow him and when I entered my bedroom he’s human, and naked on my bed.

“How long has this wolf thing been going on?” I sit down next to him.

“For 9 months.” He says.

“And you never told me.” I say defended.

“I was afraid that you might’ve been terrified.” He looks down and started to mess with my blanket a bit.

“I would’ve but, the way you allowed me to pet you and you licking my face. I know something will happen to me if something goes down.” I say.

“I wouldn’t let anyone or anything get near you. I’m still the same person that you know,” He puts his hand on my cheek.

I blush a little, I think he notices it.

He leans in to kiss me, I kiss him back, he makes me get on top of him. He kisses my neck which makes me gasp. I scratch his head, I can hear him growling, but in a good way when I kept on scratching his head like a dog would do.

Eventually, we have sex, he gives me hickeys but I felt his fangs half the time and I would stop him, he understood on why I would stop him. I gave him some hickeys as well, which made him growl. I grab a condom for him and he gets it on him, he goes in and out of me, which made me scream, the 2 years of us dating, this is the best sex I’ve ever had from him.

We lay on the bed heavy breathing, well just me heavy breathing. Theo wraps his arm around my neck. I turn my body next to him.

“I’ll keep your identity a secret Theo.” I say.

“I already can tell, Scott and Stiles well find out, you know why? Scott is an Alpha and he knows about every single type of wolf.” He says.

“I know.” I said.

I’ll keep his secret locked and safe in my heart, I love him so much it’s insane.

[buckseb]

dating theo raeken includes

pairings — theo raeken x fem!reader

summary — how it would be to date theo raeken!

word count — i’ll do word count later (i’m so exhausted and drained but im posting this because i wanted to post SOMETHING since i haven’t been writing a lot on here for QUITE a while)

warnings — mentions of theo's past, both loads of angst and fluff (obviously), mentions of reader's grief / loss of losing allison and watching her die, mentions of stiles's trauma and past with the nogitune, love confessions, kisses, use of a pet-name [princess], mentions of anxiety and mental health, theo is very protective, mentions of the 'i hate everyone but you' trope, sort of enemies to lovers trope but it's really just hints at it, forehead kisses, cuddles.

notes — i hope this isn't rushed. i'm currently in the middle of TRYING to finish my eddie fic (which, i've decided is just going to be a short tooth-rotting fluff type instead of the complicated one i wanted to do, because i'm really struggling with both writer's block and my mental health and illnesses taking their tolls on me), so this is just me trying to get this done as soon as possible before work again tomorrow. so please bear with me! gif and divider creds to owner!

p.s., feedback is very much encouraged and appreciated </3.

main masterlist

-meeting this boy is certainly very confusing for [y/n], to say the least.

-not only because of the fact that she's like a little sister to both stiles and scott, but also because she doesn't know whether or not to listen to stiles when he says that his childhood friend is bad news.

-and especially, because of the fact that her best friend is simply just paranoid about literally everything, it's hard to believe him.

-though, this is why she takes his comment seriously when she first meets theo, because she knows that he has a right to be paranoid — after everything he went through with the nogitune and the torture and guilt of hurting innocent people when he was void and from his guilt over blaming himself for allison's death.

-also the fact that theo is so adamant to get her to believe that he's genuine to her just confuses her more.

-though, after finding out how theo's sister died — how he couldn't save her, much like how it felt with her losing allison — she began to second guess both herself and stiles.

-not only did she feel immensely guilty for not giving him a chance, but also for how stiles had treated him.

-though, did she really need to feel guilty when it ended up being true that stiles was telling the truth?

-nevermind this fact that it doesn't get revealed at this point in time yet. what does get revealed, is the fact that [y/n] begins to feel badly for not giving him the benefit of the doubt.

-also, the fact that she's the type of person to do exactly just that, made her feel even more guilty than before.

-because of the guilt and regret constantly affecting her, she eventually stopped listening to stiles' warnings and decided to give theo a chance.

-they bond over both of their own experiences of grief and loss.

-stiles doesn't like this so much — protective big brother mode activated!

-theo and [y/n] grow closer every day, despite how much stiles tries to get in the middle and ruin their semi-growing relationship.

-no matter how much he tries, stiles can't get in between the two traumatized teenagers.

-and despite her own very heavy trust issues, [y/n] is very quick to trust him.

-maybe it was just the fact that despite everything she's been through, she always believes in the best of people — theo himself being one of those people.

-though, stiles isn't too thrilled about this.

-but, despite how much everyone isn't too excited about them getting so close and connected, there's something about how much they've grown to care for each other that they're all grateful for — at least, until everyone finds out the truth.

-and let me tell you, the betrayal she feels when she finds out the truth? well, that's just a complete understatement.

-because the one time she finally decides to open up and let someone in, it not only happens to be theo, but he also ends up being a betraying, liar.

-but, let me tell you, when she finds out that he tried to kill scott and did all of the rest of the things that hurt the pack? well, that anger and heartbreak was something unlike anything she's ever experienced.

-sure, she went through many hurtful experiences — like losing her best friend, or being treated like she wasn't enough, and never would be. but, there was nothing like realizing the fact that she'd been tricked into falling in love with someone she'd been warned about in the first place.

-the second she found out about the betrayal, all she could think about and remember was the countless times stiles had kept telling her that theo was bad news, that there was something off about him.

-and all she could do was think about how wrong she was — how she couldn't have been more stupid for trusting him, especially over one of her best friends.

-needless to say, she spent most of her time avoiding him as much as possible.

-she didn't see him for most of the time he spent 'helping' their pack.

-though, when it came to where kira came to save the day and sent theo back to hell with his now tragically-dead sister, [y/n] had been quite literally right in the middle.

-although theo had kept [y/n] out of danger in his own discreet way, not even that could've made her change her mind about him and step in to protect him — or to at least try to save him.

-and trust me, in her head, she really wanted to. as mad as she was at him for using and betraying her, she knew couldn't do it.

-she'd already felt like she betrayed the pack when she found out that she had been hanging out with the actual enemy.

-how could she try to save him, especially after everything he put them all through?

-so, despite the clear connection between the both of them — even after the betrayal and heartbreak he just recently put her through — and the streaming tears on her face, she doesn't move.

-even when he begs her and scott for help, she still stays in her place — no matter how much it kills her to ignore his pleas for help.

-the months after he's gone, a new dark hole fills inside of her heart, and she quickly becomes distant and unwilling to ever let anyone else in.

-when everyone meets up for their normal meetings or when they're on one of their missions to save some people, [y/n] would obviously join.

-but, her heart would no longer be in it anymore. and the distance between all of their relationships with her is a total understatement.

-even the pack realizes how different she's become because of losing theo, no matter how many times she refuses to admit it to any of them.

-and when liam brings theo back, everything changes for her.

-theo tries to show her that he feels remorse for what he did to everyone, and especially to her.

-at first, she's not willing to listen to anything he wants to say or do for her.

-but, eventually when they have to work together against the ghost riders, [y/n] is forced to be civil with him. but, she does make it quite clear of how much she detests him in the beginning.

-and then, they're forced to work together and face the trauma and tension between them.

-with theo, he's both struggling with his trauma and ptsd and trying to prove to both the pack and [y/n] herself that he's really trying and trying to be better.

-the whole time, since he's gotten back, she's been hateful towards him, and rightfully so. but then, things change when she begins to notice the big change in him.

-seeing him try to constantly save liam, or trying to cover for the pack when they're supposed to be on the run from monroe and her hunters, she's forced to accept that he's changed.

-a part of her wishes that he could've changed for her. but, if only she knew that she's one of the reasons that he wanted to change.

-i mean, for sure, he definitely wanted to do it to be a part of the pack and for himself. but, also, it was for her too, because he wanted her to care about him.

one day, after things with monroe have settled — after scott and the pack have finally ended things with monroe and her hunters — theo and [y/n] finds themselves alone in her house, after a pack meeting and after everyone left.

“why haven't you kicked me out yet?” theo asks with a fake smirk and matter-of-fact tone of voice.

she gulps, turning to face him with nervous eyes.

he immediately notices the change in her behavior, but he can't call her out on it because she speaks before he can, “you've changed, theo.”

he's startled by her statement.

he opens his mouth to respond, but once again, she interrupts him, “ever since you got back — earlier this year — you've changed. you haven't been the same since.”

he shrugs, trying to act nonchalant and like this conversation isn't a big deal.

she inhales, preparing herself for what she's about to do and say.

“when you first got back,” she gulps, raking her fingers through her hair anxiously. “i...i didn't want to think about the possibility — i didn't even want to admit — that you changed. even when you sacrificed your life and freedom to save me and liam from the ghost riders.”

theo's eyebrows knit together in confusion. “okay... what does that have to do with anything?”

her breath hitches in her throat, moving to sit down at the kitchen counter, avoiding his eyes. “it's because i'm finally seeing it — the change.”

“okay... ” he trails off, moving to sit on the opposite side of her.

she sighs in defeat. “i feel like... things have changed between us. like recently.”

“what are you saying?” he asks.

this time, she looks up at him now with tears in her eyes. “i know we've both been acting like i hate you. but... ” she trails off, gulping. “i think we both know — maybe this whole time — that i never really hated you.”

“what's changed?” he asks, leaning his arms against the counter.

“i think maybe... ” she says, looking down again as she fidgets with her hands on the counter. “when you first got back, all you wanted was to live. and then, i think you saw some of that family bond that everyone in the pack has and you wanted it too — i think you realized how important it was and you felt like you owed it to scott and the others to protect them.”

he nods. “you're right.”

she inhales, once more. “a part of me...wishes you wanted to change for me too.”

she lets those words sink in, but then she starts to overthink what she said. “i—i don't mean like actually change for me, but that you wanted to, to prove how much you cared. about me, i mean.”

theo's face is unreadable.

because of this, she looks away. “but... the truth is, it hurts.”

the tears blind her vision this time, before they fall and her breath becomes shaky as she speaks again, “and well, the whole truth is that... when we first met and we became close in the way that we did, i felt like — for the first time in a long time — i felt hope that... ”

“i felt hope that maybe you'd be different this time — different than every other person that ever hurt me. i hoped that we could be something — more than just friends.”

she's left theo speechless, at this point.

“are... are you saying what i think you're saying?" he asks, tears in his own eyes — surprisingly.

wordlessly, she looks up at him and nods.

a shaky breath leaves his lips. “and you're not messing with me?”

she laughs. “messing with you? why would i be joking around about this?”

he clears his throat as she starts to feel anxious and nervous that she's really just screwed everything up.

sensing that she's about to shut down, he reaches across the counter to hold her hands in his own. “you're one of the reasons i did all of that in the first place.”

she looks up in shock. “what?”

“it's the truth,” he confirms, squeezing her hands gently. “i swear i've loved you from the moment i met you.”

she lets out a shocked and shaky breath. “really?”

he nods, smiling over at her.

“i... ” she trails off, finding the courage to tell him what she's known from the start too, “theo, i love you too.”

he sighs in relief as he takes his hands away from hers.

her eyebrows furrow together in confusion, almost missing the feeling of his hands over hers, but that feeling goes away when he walks around the counter and over to her.

"i love you so much that being away from you and thinking you hated me was killing me, princess..." he murmurs as he walks over to her and bends down, before lifting her chin up and kisses her softly.

-everything after that day changes for them.

-and everyone sees it.

-they spend a lot of their time with each other.

-to be completely honest, they make each other happy — they're so cute that the pack has to accept it.

-stiles is still extremely protective over her — he and theo had a very intense conversation about how if he ever hurts her again he would absolutely kill him for it.

-forehead kisses.

-the cutest cuddles.

-she's the only one that sees his soft side — he's all tough and reserved around everyone else, but with her, he shows that side only to her.

-his protective instincts are an understatement.

-if anyone hurts her — both physically or emotionally, and mentally — it's over for them because he would let the world burn to protect her.

-he becomes an even better person for her and the whole pack sees it.

-she helps him through his trauma and helps him get into therapy to work through it all.

-they're relationship works.

[heliads]

Theo raeken x fem!reader, theo confessing to reader but being rejected cause of all the stuff he did to the pack

a theo request?? anon god bless i miss him

masterlist

The first thing Stiles Stilinski says upon sprinting down the hallway to stop immediately in front of you, is, “Theo Raeken is going to kill us all again.”

The second thing Stiles tells you, without a single pause after the first nor one word of explanation, is, “And it’s all your fault.”

Stiles is prone to drama. He’s a lovely boy, sure, you’ve been his friend since you were a kid, and you’ve counted on him to save your life from the millions of dangers all living in the home you both call Beacon Hills, but you’ve learned to take pronouncements like these with a grain of salt.

So, instead of losing your mind with worry like you did the first dozen times Stiles approached you with yet another rumor of death and danger, you just smile, put the last of your books in your locker, and shut the door. Once you take a breath or two, you turn to face him at last.

“Good morning, Stiles,” you say pointedly, “How good to see you again. How was your weekend? Oh, you’re spouting off about another crazy theory? So good to hear! I know you’re going to tell it to me nicely, and you definitely won’t try to do something weird like blame me for it. That would be ridiculous, don’t you think?”

Stiles has the grace to look at least a little needled, but he still stands firm. “I’m not kidding, Y/N. We’re about to get hit by Hurricane Theo, Round Two, and when we’re all bloody, broken corpses, I’ll be having the last laugh.”

You frown. “I thought we would all be dead. How can you be laughing if we’re all bloody, broken corpses like you said?”

Stiles waves a hand irritably. “That’s why it would be the last laugh, idiot. I would rub it in your face then immediately pass away. Anyway, you’re not focusing.”

“I am focusing,” you argue, “I have been focusing on Theo Raeken for a while now. We all have.”

Stiles groans. “He’s going to try to topple our pack again, though. Look, I’ve been watching him for a while, and I know it. I can feel it. And I was right about him the first time, right? Even when you all doubted me, I was right. I’m going to be right again.”

As much as you’d like to have some snappy little comeback, you can’t deny that Stiles totally hit the nail on the head with Theo the first time around. Back when Theo Raeken returned to Beacon Hills for the first time in years, everyone in the McCall pack had been more than willing to welcome him with open arms. Only Stiles had second thoughts about the guy, and Stiles was proven right when Theo tried to kill Scott and take over the rest of you.

Now, though, you’re all aware of Theo’s twisted intentions. There’s no doubt in any of your minds that he’s still scheming, but for now, he’s been holding back. Nothing has happened to alert anyone’s suspicions more than usual, yet Stiles seems dead set in his latest theory.

You sigh and start to walk down the hallway, Stiles by your side. “Fine, then. What makes you think he’s going to pick today to attack?”

“Well, it might not be today,” Stiles admits. “Soon, though. This I promise. And I’m not just making stuff up, Y/N. He’s been acting differently. He even talked to me about it.”

You arch a brow. “You let Theo get close enough to talk?”

“Not willingly, but he wouldn’t leave me alone until I did,” Stiles grumbles.

You have to bite back a laugh. You can picture exactly how that conversation went– Stiles doggedly avoiding Theo as long as he could, Theo just a few paces behind until Stiles gave in and let him speak. Stiles hates Theo’s guts, which is understandable, considering Theo tried to murder his best friend, so whatever Theo had to say must have been important to risk Stiles’ wrath.

Now that you’re finally listening, though, Stiles is holding back the crucial information. He really is so dramatic when he wants to be, isn’t he?

You wave your hand irritably. “Alright, then. Get on with it. What did he say?”

Stiles huffs out a breath at getting rushed like this, but his face turns serious soon enough. “Well, that’s the thing. He wasn’t really telling me anything. In fact, the only thing he really did was ask me about you.”

A pause looms between you. You’re no wolf, but you swear you can hear every conversation happening up and down this hall, how the words echo in your head. It’s easier to pick apart everyone else’s idle chatter instead of comprehending what Stiles has just told you.

“He asked about me? That makes no sense. I’m human, Stiles. What would he want with me?”

Stiles swats you on the shoulder. “Hey, as, like, one of the only other humans here, we’ve got to be proud of ourselves. We have value. I don’t know why he asked, though. He didn’t mention pack stuff or anything. He just wanted to know how you were doing, if you were busy after school or something.”

Your eyes widen. “You don’t think he’s trying to kill me after we get out of class or something? What did you tell him?”

“I’m already a step ahead,” Stiles assures you. “I said you were totally busy and we wouldn’t let you near any of his traitorous pack without the rest of us there to keep you safe. He seems kind of put off by that, but he said that he wasn’t trying to kill you.”

“That’s exactly what someone who’s trying to kill me would say,” you point out.

“Tell me about it. I don’t think he’ll try anything today, at least not at school, but be careful, alright? Don’t go anywhere without one of us. I don’t like this.” Stiles says.

You shiver. “I don’t like it either.”

Theo’s attention never ends well. And, when the two of you turn a corner, you glance over your shoulder and see that someone else has taken your spot at your locker. He’s not trying to open it, just leaning against the metal. He raises a hand in greeting when he sees you looking. It’s Theo Raeken, and judging by the proud smile on his face, he knows exactly who you’re talking about.

You can’t focus throughout that class, nor the next. Theo Raeken is dangerous. He played all of you except Stiles like a fiddle the first time he was trying to kill Scott. What’s to stop him from trying to do it again? Or, worse, what’s to stop him from trying to do it to you?

You stop by your locker later that day. You had just managed to put the morning’s incident from your mind, but when you unlock the door to find a note pushed inside, it all comes rushing back. The paper inside carries no threats, but you still feel your blood run cold when you read it.

Meet me outside after the school day ends. T.R.

You show Scott and the others at lunch. None of them like it either. Scott agrees with Stiles in telling you to never go out alone, and certainly not to meet Theo like he asked. This has to be a trap. There’s no way it could be anything else.

You’re perfectly fine with that plan, but, as it turns out, it’s a little easier said than done. You end up staying a little while after class to ask a teacher a few questions about an upcoming exam, and when you emerge into the empty hallway once more, it occurs to you that you forgot to tell anyone that you were staying after. It’s not that any one of the pack would intentionally abandon you, especially not after the shift in Theo’s attention today, but they all would have assumed that someone else was with you, and left it at that.

Now, you’re wandering the school alone, listening to the sound of your footsteps echo off of the walls and wondering if he’s waiting for you somewhere. Your phone is in your hand, ready to text one of your friends to pick you up, but you don’t live far from school. It won’t take that long to get home, not if you hurry. You’re certain you can avoid him if you try.

Glancing around to make sure he’s not lingering by the door, you set out into the sunlight. Your footsteps are quick, hurrying around corners and down the sidewalk, but, as it turns out, not quick enough. Then again, how could you ever think you could outpace him? You’re human. Theo is a chimera. He could sprint down the length of your neighborhood in the time it takes you to blink.

You wait for the inevitable– claws in your throat, perhaps, or a knife in your back, something Theo-like and unavoidable, but he doesn’t kill you. Not yet. Instead, Theo Raeken walks next to you, tilts his head up to the blue afternoon sky, and says, “It’s a nice day out, isn’t it?”

You blink. Of all the ways you expected this encounter to end, talking to Theo about the weather was just about last on your list. “What?”

Theo shrugs. “It’s warm out. I don’t know.”

He still seems nice, which is weird, obviously. To be honest, this abrupt change in his usual demeanor is freaking you out more than if he’d just been his normal, scheming, threatening self. At least then you wouldn’t be waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“What do you want, Theo?” You ask at last. “Are you here to kill me or not?”

Theo glances over at you, looking genuinely surprised. “What are you talking about? I would never kill you. Y/N, I could never hurt you. You know that.”

He’s not entirely wrong. During his attempted toppling of the McCall pack, Scott nearly died, and many of you were injured, but Theo never touched so much as a hair on your head. Truth be told, back when he was still pretending to be good, you liked him a lot. He won you over fast, probably faster than he should have. Still, that was then, and this is now. You’re both on opposite sides of a war, and that sort of gulf cannot be easily crossed by anything. Least of all by you.

“Fine. Are you trying to use me to hurt the pack?”

Theo scoffs. “They’re trying to convince you to see the worst in me. I’m not surprised, to be honest. I’m not here to hurt you, Y/N, not in any way. I’m here because I want to take you on a date.”

You stop walking. This is absurd. You wait for him to start laughing or something, call an end to the joke, but he doesn’t. He just pauses by your side. “What time can I pick you up?” He continues, as if nothing has been said at all.

“Never,” you manage, “We’re not going on a date, Theo.”

He frowns. “Why not? If you’re busy this week, I can wait. It’s fine.”

“No, we can’t reschedule, because it’s not happening. You tried to murder Scott. You’re still trying to take over our pack. Why would I go on a date with you?”

Theo lifts a shoulder. “Because you like me. And don’t try to argue, Y/N, I know you do. You liked me well enough before I started moving forward with my plans.”

This, again, is a little closer to the truth than you’d like to admit. Theo was wonderful before he tried to murder everyone you hold dear. He was charming and funny. He partnered with you in class, he helped you study, he walked home with you after school. He was perfectly lovely until you burst into the Beacon Hills High School library one day to find him standing over Scott’s corpse.

“I might have, but that’s over now, Theo. I can’t love someone who tried to kill my friends. End of story.”

Theo shakes his head, brown hair flying around his eyes, which have taken on a glint almost akin to madness. “That’s the noble thing to do, sure, but you don’t have to be noble. We don’t have to be noble. It’s just you and me, Y/N. We don’t need any of them. Come on, you can’t tell me that you don’t want this.”

He says every word with such certainty that you know he believes it. You understand now why he was able to rally the other chimeras behind him, why even Liam was able to fall for his scheming. Theo is someone you want to believe. Always.

Always, even when you know better. Especially when you know better. You take a subtle step back, then two. “I can’t do this, Theo. Even if I went out with you, I’d be wondering if you were going to stab me in the back the entire time. I can’t trust you.”

His face falls. “But you want this. You want me.”

“I do,” you admit, “but that doesn’t make it right.”

He goes quiet. You wait for him to shout or swear or something like the monster you’ve been hearing so much about, but instead, he just looks towards where you were walking again. “Can I at least walk you home?”

You nod. “You remember where to go?”

“Of course,” he answers simply.

He could just recall where you live because you’re a part of the McCall pack and he needs a target. A second, calmer voice somewhere in the back of your head whispers that maybe, just maybe, it is because of you.

The walk back is quiet, but not terrible. You’re both thinking through a grave number of things. When you finally reach your house, Theo stops and faces you in front of the door. “Just–” he breaks off, then manages to finish it. “Think about it. If I were better, would you think about it?”

You let out a low breath. “Yes, Theo, I would.”

He almost smiles. “Goodbye, Y/N.”

“Goodbye, Theo,” you whisper back, and watch as he turns and leaves your house once more. 

It will be a long time before you can trust him for sure. You have no doubt that he’s got something else up his sleeve. Theo Raeken doesn’t strike you as the kind to give up easily. But then again, that’s why you’re still thinking of him even after he disappears from sight. Maybe, just maybe, Theo will do good on what he asked of you. Maybe, if he was better, he would come back. Until then, you’ll watch, and you’ll wait, and perhaps one day, you’ll be able to say yes after all.

teen wolf tag list: @mayfieldss, @rogueanschel, @lovesanimals0000, @rafecameronswhore, @bellabadacadabra, @watchreadfangirlrepeat, @23victoria

all tags list: @wordsarelife

[samdeancass]

Making a Move

Pairing: Theo Raeken x fem!reader

Genre: Fluff

Characters: Theo, Y/N, Isaac

Description: Theo becomes jealous when he catches Isaac making a move on Y/N.

Theo’s eyes narrow at the blonde werewolf walking down the hall towards you both. You heard a slight growl and his grip tighten around you, pulling you into his side. You squeezed his hand to calm him down before making your way over to Isaac. 

Theo watched Isaac carefully; watching where he put his hands, watching the expressions of his face, even watching the stance in which he stood. Everything seemed to shout “I love her!” and it enraged every nerve in his body. He especially tensed up when Isaac ran his hand down your arm, a wide, loving smile on his face.

Theo clenched his fists at his side, fighting the urge to pummel Isaac into the ground there and then. You had warned him a few days before about keeping his temper in check when Isaac was around.

“I’ve seen the way he looks at you, Y/N. Like he’s going to take you away from me. I can’t just sit back and let him do that.” You walked over to him and pressed a simple kiss to his lips before brushing his hair out of his eyes.

“Theo, baby, that’s never going to happen. You, and only you, are the one that I’m always going to love. Nobody’s going to take me away from you. I don’t want anyone to get hurt. Just please try and keep calm, for me.”  Theo nodded and kissed your forehead, bringing you to his chest.

You took a step back from Isaac, trying to put as much room between him and you as possible. Isaac, however, stepped forward and nearly trapped you between him and the lockers behind you, leaning down to try and kiss you. 

In the corner of your eye you seen Theo storm forward and push Isaac away from you. “What the hell do you think your doing, Raeken?! I was only having a harmless conversation with Y/N!.” Theo took your hand in his, you rubbing your thumb into his palm to calm him down.

“That’s not what it looked like from where I was standing! She stepped away from you and you purposely stepped forward and trapped her! You even tried to kiss her when I was stood just down the corridor! She’a not interested, just leave her alone!” Isaac flashed his eyes and stepped forward, landing a punch to Theo’s jaw.

“Isaac! What the hell!” You stormed forward and slapped his cheek before using all your strength to push him, sending him flying to the floor. “Any friendship we had is done!” You walked back over to Theo and cradled his face in your hands, kissing his bruising eye.

“You alright, baby?” Theo brought his hands up to yours and gave a soft smile. “Yeah, but are you ok? I know that that would have hurt you, losing Isaac as a friend.” You shook your head. “Not as much as seeing him hurt you. I told you,  you are the only one I’m ever going to love.” A wide smile spread across Theo’s features as he moved his hands to the back of your head and smashed his lips to yours. 

Teen Wolf Tags: 

@bxoken-heartss​ @hellomyweirdos​ @redcoatgirl​

[raekensluver]

ᴍʏ ᴡʜɪᴛᴇ ʙᴏʏ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴏɴᴛʜ— ᴅᴇᴄᴇᴍʙᴇʀ ᴇᴅɪᴛɪᴏɴ

ᴛʜᴇᴏᴅᴏʀᴇ ʀᴀᴇᴋᴇɴ

[lazydoodlesandfanfic]

TEEN WOLF MASTERLIST

*DISCLAIMER: SOME STORIES MAY BE TAGGED FOR WRONG DEMOGRAPHIC (ie, Not GN, male or fem) IF SO, PLEASE POLITELTY INFORM ME SO I CAN FIX IT

SCOTT MCCALL

Escaping Theo's Pack (Scott McCall X Male!Reader)

Looking Out (Scott McCall X Male!Reader)

Senses (Scott McCall X Reader)

STILES STILINSKI

Change In Appearance (Stiles Stilinski X Sister!Reader) (Feat. Sheriff Stilinski.

DEREK HALE

A Boy And His Mother (Derek Hale X Fem!Reader)

Interuptions (Derek Hale X Reader)

COREY BRYANT

The Pack's Little Sister (Corey X Sister!Reader)

Resurrected (Corey X SIster!Reader)

LIAM DUNBAR

Watching Out (Liam Dunbar X Male!Reader)

Pickup Lines (Lian Dunbar X Fem!Reader)

THEO RAEKEN

Back Home (Theo Raeken X Fem!Reader) Pt 1/ Pt 2

Staying (Theo Raeken X Fem!Reader)

Gone (Theo Raeken X Fem!Reader)

It's My Job (Theo Raeken X Fem!Reader)

Scarf (Theo Raeken X Fem!Reader)

Join The Pack (Theo Raeken X Fem!Reader)

Not The Only Banshee (Theo Raeken X Fem!Reader)

Hiding (Theo Raeken X Fem!Reader)

Keep You Safe (Theo Raeken X Fem!Reader)

Helpful Hand (Theo Raeken X Fem!Reader)

Blind Love (Theo Raeken X Blind!Male!Reader)

LYDIA MARTIN

German Transfer (Lydia Martin X Fem!Reader)

Position (Lydia Martin X Fem!Reader)

COACH FINSTOCK

New Teacher (Coach Finstock X Fem!Reader)

Overqualified (Coach Finstock X Fem!Reader)

One Smart Cookie (Coach Finstock X Teen!Reader)

Being Coach Finstock's Daughter And Being A Beast At Sports Would Include...

JORDAN PARRISH

Not Feeling Good (Jordan Parrish X Reader)

CHRIS ARGENT

Moving In (Chris Argent X Teen!Fem!Reader)

PETER HALE

Have You Ever Heard Of Knocking (Peter Hale X Male!Reader)

Under The Weather (Peter Hale X Male!Reader)

MULTIPLE

Protection (Scott McCall X Male!Reader X Isaac Lahey)

Photographs (Corey Bryant X Sister!Reader, Theo Raeken X Fem!Reader)

The Flu (Teen Wolf X BabyBrother!Hale!Reader)

[stilinskibaby]

⠀⠀⠀ SCOUT’S FEBRUARY FIC RECS

unfortunately i havent read as much as i would have liked to, so this month is pretty short but next month’s will be longer <3

STILES STILINSKI X READER

don't get involved with a fuckboy — fuckboy!college fratboy!stiles x fem reader. | @dylanobemineforever

a personal favorite, I'm on my third reread, and this is one that stuck with me so much i just had to find it again.

basically anything from jordie's teen wolf masterlist | @just-jordie-things

I've been reading her works forever and throughout multiple accounts.

this and this by @farfromharry

though i comepletely reccommend all of her stiles’ work

this blurb about loser!stiles by @dcangel

i love all of her stiles work that I've seen thus far

a little fashion show by @thyme-in-a-bubble

this about oblivious!stiles and i eat it up everytime

THEO RAEKEN X READER

out of the woods by @heartbreakgrill

THIS FIC WAS LOWKEY DEVASTATING i 100% reccommend

[bamboozledbird]

𝕚𝕗 𝕚 𝕔𝕠𝕦𝕝𝕕 𝕝𝕠𝕤𝕖 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕚 𝕨𝕠𝕦𝕝𝕕 pt.2 // stiles stilinski imagine

Characters: Stiles Stilinski, fem!reader, Theo Raeken, Lydia Martin Pairing(s): Stiles x you, Theo x you (no use of y/n) Word Count: 5.3k Tags: a fix-it for y'all bc i'm a pushover Warnings: Underage drinking (at least in america rip, they're all 19+), creepy guys in bars, emetophobia, new jersey slander (please forgive me jerseyans)

Request: for all you people i made cry with part 1. this is my love letter to you. A/N: you don't necessarily need to read part 1 to understand, but this is a follow-up to if i could lose you i would.

The night starts well enough. Theo’s hand is a warm, steadying weight against your lower back, and his cologne cuts through the vague funky smell clouding the bar. Lydia chose it; somehow, no matter the city, she always knows about the coolest, underground spots that seem to only circulate within an elite circle of twentysomethings. It really isn’t all that shocking when you think about it as you nurse your bitter cocktail; every single person who catches a glimpse of Lydia immediately craves her attention. Unfortunately for them, Lydia always takes you as her date, though lately she’s been ending your nights out at a stranger's apartment more often than not. She’s never said it, but you know it’s because, ever since the disastrous end to her start-of-summer bash, Theo's made himself a permanent third-wheel on girls’ night. He’s never said it, but you know he started tagging along because you’ve been distant since Stiles poured into your bedroom and pressed on all the bruises his fingertips left behind when he left you. You really thought you’d washed them all away with 3,000 miles, 3 months, and 3 weeks of the scrape of Theo’s teeth. 

You sip on your fourth drink of the evening, sitting on a barstool because your legs are too wobbly to stand on, and Theo watches you watch Lydia spin a girl with a radiant smile and glitter tinsel in her hair. 

“You wanna dance?” he hums in your ear. You can barely hear him over the bass and the buzz of too much tequila. 

You nibble on your straw and hiccup around it, “Don’t think I can.”

Theo makes a move to grab the drink in your hand, and you bend backwards to keep it out of his reach. “Come on,” he frowns, “you can’t even stand.”

“So?” you purse your lips petulantly and punctuate your point with a loud suck, draining the last few drops of your lime margarita through a few chunks of leftover ice.

Theo looks tired as he studies your face. “What the hell is going on with you? I see you every day, and I still don’t have a fucking clue.” 

You’re too drunk to pretend you don’t know what he’s talking about. Hiccupping again, your nose scrunches, “I’m just…I wanna go home.” Theo pats his jacket pockets for his keys, and you shake your head a few too many times. “No, not there.” Your stomach turns when you finally realize what you actually mean. You want to hitch a ride on the melting ice in your glass and dissolve into knotted hair on Sunday mornings, freckled skin washed with the shifting sun, and pouted pink lips, cursing the snooze button and your cold toes. You don’t say that. You’re drunk, not cruel. “I wanna go back to Stanford. I hate it here.”

Theo’s eyes are shadowed in the dim light of the club, but they’re calculating. “You really think that’s far enough?” 

Blinking slowly, your mind spins with the drinks in your stomach as you try and fail to think of something clever. “Feels far,” you mumble, and Theo doesn’t look reassured. It’s hard for you to differentiate pain from anger through watery eyes and the brume of tequila, but whatever emotion is darkening Theo’s expression, you think it’s justified. He’s smart enough to know what you mean. 

 His face goes blank as he searches for his keys again, “I think that’s enough fun for tonight.”

You shake your head and wriggle down further into the cradle of your hips, “I wanna stay.”

Theo exhales through his nose and runs a hand over his face, “I thought you wanted to go home.”

Your tongue is thick as you struggle for words, sniffling as they tease you from the fraying edges of consciousness. “Not there.” You know you sound like a baby, recycling the handful of words you can remember, and you know that tears will only make it worse, but they still bubble along your lash line.

“Stay at Lydia’s then,” Theo spits out through gritted teeth, but he shoves a napkin towards you to mop up your running mascara, so you forgive him. It’s your fault, after all. At least, you think so as you watch him leave. 

“Boyfriend troubles?” Your head lulls to the side as you blink dumbly, all big-eyed and glassy, at the stranger leaning against the bar beside you. He’s tall, well-built too, but you’re mostly focused on his pungent cologne. It’s hard not to; you’re suffocating in it. 

The man laughs and grabs your chin, shaking your head a little, “You’re adorable. How could anyone stay mad at you?” 

You recoil, wrenching your face from his sweaty grasp, and run your tongue over your teeth. “He’s not…” your protest gets lost in your throat when he steps into your space and slides his hand along your spine, just shy of your ass. Your dress is backless, completely exposed to his wandering gaze, and your skin crawls with the sensation of his fingertips grazing your back.

His breath is hot and wet on the shell of your ear, “You want to forget about it for a while, angel?” 

“No,” your head jerks from side to side, eyes screwed shut, “I don’t—I think I’m gonna puke.”

A wave of relief rolls over you when a red-taloned hand slithers between your bodies. Lydia shoves the stranger’s chest sharply, sending him stumbling into the stool behind him, and his hand falls from your hip. 

“Does it look like she wants to contract something from a limp-dicked lowlife in tacky shoes?” The top of Lydia’s head barely reaches his shoulder, but her eyes are sharp and her sneer is venomous. The creep has the good sense to look a little afraid. “You have exactly two seconds to get the hell out of here before I personally ensure you’re on every public sex offender registry from here to Quebec.”

She grabs your hand before he has the chance to disagree and pulls you into the bathroom. In comparison to the loud, muggy dancefloor, it’s a wonderful reprieve: an oasis of cold air and muffled bass. 

Lydia fusses over you for a minute; you wave off her concerns and push yourself onto the sink even though your arms feel distinctly gelatinous. You can tell she doesn’t believe you, but men preying on drunk women is a tragically large and present underbelly of girl world, so after a moment she turns her intense focus to the lighted mirror. She looks perfect—she always looks perfect—but she won’t believe anyone except her own reflection.

The aching strain in your arches slowly dissipates to a faint tingle the longer your feet dangle from the counter, your heels discarded below. They’re black strappy things from the back of Lydia’s closet, and so is the scrap of black silk that Prada has the audacity to call a dress. You are grateful, however, for the short hem and open back now that your skin finally has the chance to breathe. 

You watch Lydia apply her lipstick with a precision brain surgeons could only dream of, smiling lazily. She’s graceful with the slender brush, like Botticelli stroking a swathe of red silk over a canvas of smooth skin. You envy her, with your eyeshadow already melting below your waterline, but mostly you love her. So proud to have such a goddess for a best friend. 

Her head tilts as she smiles at you, and she must be at least a little godly because she doesn’t smear her lipstick when her mouth curves. “What?” she hums around her puckered lips. 

“Nothing,” your words slur together, “you’re just perfect.”

She tucks her lipstick into her clutch and shakes her head, “And you’re so drunk. Lethal, babe.”

“I love it,” you sigh as she starts fixing your hair, clicking her tongue when you start to fidget. You slump into her careful touch and watch her fingers smooth through a few knots near your ends. “Being drunk is my favorite.”

She twirls her finger, indicating you should turn around, and begins twisting your flattened curls into an elegant bun. “I’ve noticed,” she mutters through the bobby pin clutched between her teeth, “you’ve been drinking more than you’ve sober lately.”

“It’s summer!” You blow a curl off of your nose and close your teary eyes so that your mascara doesn’t flake onto your cheeks, “You’re supposed to be drunk.”

Lydia hums and pulls a few strands of hair loose to artfully frame your face. “I didn’t realize alcoholism was seasonal.”

“You,” you bop her nose and giggle when it scrunches under your finger, “are being a major buzzkill. Don’t kill my buzz; that’s murder in the first.”

“Someone has to be.” Lydia leans her hip against the sink, and her brows curve, “Where’s Theo? I thought he was your DD tonight?”

You let the intoxication sweep over your senses because it’s easy and knock your ankles together like a child on the swings. “He left,” you chirp.

“He what?”

Your bottom lip juts out a little, “I think I hurt his feelings.”

Lydia is incensed. She tosses her hair over her shoulder and mutters a few choice words under her breath, “I’m going to hurt a lot more than that when I find him.” You curl in on yourself a little, and she sighs, unwinding her fingers from tight fists as her eyes soften. “He really left you here?” she asks quietly.

You shrug, refusing to feel sorry for yourself, and make grabby hands at her sleeves, “It’s okay. You’re here, and you’re my best friend, and I love you.”

She laces your fingers together and squeezes your hand, “It is not okay. That creep had you halfway to his car.”

You shudder at memory, and feel the ghost of the stranger’s clammy hand against your lower back, “But you rescued me. So it’s okay.” 

You frown at Lydia’s frown and push her cheeks together, squishing her mouth into a crinkled half-smile. She rolls her eyes a little and takes your wrists in her hands gently, “He shouldn’t have left you. It was a shitty thing to do, babe.”

“I made him sad, I think.” You hiccup a little, “I think I always do.”

“He can’t leave you blackout drunk in a skeezy bar just because you’re in love with someone else,” she huffs.

You tease the tip of your tongue through your front teeth, swinging your legs back and forth below the sink, “It wasn’t skeezy when you picked it.”

Lydia huffs again and folds her arms over her chest, “That was before I saw tall, dark, and creepy try to take you home.”

Your playful grin crumbles as your drunk-numb mind finally catches up with the burning behind your ribs. “I’m in love with someone else,” you say, voice sticky and thick in your throat. 

She lets out a sigh so soft you wonder if you just imagined it and takes both of your hands, “I know.”

Whimpering quietly, you turn your nose into your shoulder, slightly embarrassed by the sound. “I’m sad about it.”

“I know,” Lydia combs a few strands of your hair off of your tear-tacky face and smiles a little, “let’s get you home, okay?”

Another round of nausea hits you as you finally realize that you’re truly, really, horrifically drunk, and you still can’t forget him. 

“I don’t think I know where that is anymore.” 

Lydia was able to corral you into an Uber after you puked a few times. She held your hair back and helped you brush your teeth. You cried a little when she wiped the sweat off of your face with a makeup wipe, watching her take care of you with big wet eyes, as she tucked you into bed like the baby tequila and heartbreak had turned you into. She made you promise to call her in the morning, and then she left you to sleep off the ache in your throat and the six margaritas in your bloodstream—or was it seven, you can’t remember. 

You can’t remember much, it seems. You scroll through your feed for a while and squint at the blurry splotches of color, trying to recall if you were good enough friends with the girl from software systems to leave a comment on her post about how hot she looks in red. Your fingers drift, swiping away from Instagram to the only thing you remember. The thing you’ll always remember.

The phone rings exactly two times.

“Hi.” It’s the only thing you can think of besides, ‘I love you. I love you. I love you. Please make it stop.’

“Hey.” You listen to Stiles breathe on the other side of the line and snuggle further into your pillow. “You there?” 

His voice is soft in your ear, and your eyes go lidded, “Uh huh.”

He clears his throat, “What are you doing up this late?”

You twist around your sheets, and the tip of your tongue pokes out at your phone. Apparently, you’ve also forgotten that he can’t see you. “What are you doing up this late?”

“It’s uh,” Stiles pauses and there’s a rustling sound on his side of the line, “almost 8 here.”

You blink and frown at the time on your screen, “Nuh uh.” 

There’s a pause; you hate it. You want him to keep talking until you fall asleep. He finally sighs, “Are you drunk?”

Your tongue pokes out again, “I’m not the one who can’t tell time.”

“Baby,” your heart skips and your breath hitches, and he must be tired because he doesn’t seem to notice the slip, “we’re in different time zones.”

Your heart stumbles over the skip this time, and it feels a lot like flatlining. “You went back already?”

“I, uh,” he shifts, must be in his desk chair because you can hear something rolling, “my lease started. Figured if I’m paying to live in Philly, I should actually, y’know, live in Philly.” 

“Oh.” One little syllable, and it’s heavy with so many things you can’t bring yourself to dwell on it. 

“Yeah.” 

“So, uh,” you hear him scratch at something, most likely the back of his neck because he sounds anxious, “why’d you call?” He’s quick to correct himself, words overlapping like ripples in a creek, “Not that I’m not glad you called; I’m stoked you called—or maybe something a little less embarrassing—but I, uh,” there’s that scratching sound again and a quiet thudding of drumming fingers, “I really didn’t think you would.”

“Dunno,” there’s a smile in your voice, but you aren’t sure if he can hear it through the wobble, “just started dialin’, n’ I ended up here.”

He stands, and the phone shifts against his cheek as he starts to pace, “Where are you?” He sounds worried. You frown—you don’t want him to worry. You want him to hold you.

“Home,” you pause, nose wrinkling because that’s not quite right, and then add, “my house.”

“Did you drink anything?”

“Clearly.”

You can hear the eye roll from the other side of the country when he huffs into the phone, “I meant water. Did you drink any water?”

“Uh,” you nibble on your lip, “yes?”

He huffs again, but this time you can tell he’s smiling, “Get up and get some water—Advil too. Put it on top of whatever book you’re reading so it doesn’t get lost in your pile of shitty chapsticks and hair thingies.” 

Your eyes cross, affronted, “They are not shitty.”

“They’re an endless cycle of chapped hell.”

“But they taste good,” you grumble, cuddling your pillow to your chest.

He’s smirking; you know it. “Oh, I know.” 

You both just breathe through the line for a long moment, remembering the same slick slide of lips and tongues. 

“I miss you,” you whisper. 

Stiles inhales sharply, “I miss you too.”

“No,” you shake your head, smearing mascara on your pillowcase, “I miss you.” Your mouth is dry, and you can’t find the right words to explain it, how he’s apart from you even when he’s standing right there. There just aren’t enough words in the English language to explain the ache in the marrow of your ribs, how he still lingers inside your skin like some kind of fucked-up, agonizing osmosis, how you love him so tortuously, so effortlessly. Indefinitely. 

You can’t explain, but when he whispers, “Yeah, me too,” you know he knows. 

You sniffle and hiccup a few times, and a sigh crackles through your speaker. “Drink some water for me, okay?”

“Okay,” you whisper. You roll onto your stomach and sit up a little on your elbows, “Will you stay?”

“Yeah, baby,” his chair squeaks as he sits back down, “‘till you fall asleep.”

“Promise?” Your voice is thick, like you’ve been crying for hours, and Stiles’s voice is tight when he finally replies. 

“Promise.”

You wake up with dry eyes and a rank taste in your mouth. There’s a glass of water and a handful of Advil on your nightstand, and you just know. You’ve known for a while actually, maybe forever, but you can’t pretend you don’t anymore. 

Theo seems to know why you invited him over so early on a Sunday morning. He doesn’t even look sad when you officially end it, and you wonder if it’s because he knew it was over a long time ago. You wish, selfishly, that he would’ve let you in on the secret so that you could’ve avoided all this. You hug him before he leaves, and it’s stiff and awkward, and you feel a little shitty about the whole thing—but it doesn’t feel wrong. 

You feel like yourself for the first time in a long time, and that feels good.

Summer is almost over, and you don’t have the time to obsess over all your wanting. All the air leaves your body sometimes, no room for anything but honey, veins, and new stubble, but you have so much to do. There’s no time for drowning in it when you’ve only got a few weeks before the semester starts. 

You don’t even have the time to acknowledge the nerves wriggling up your esophagus until you’re standing in front of a black door. Your screen is lit with the address Scott texted you, along with roughly 100 exclamation points and a dozen or so brain explosion, party popper, and happy face emojis. They steady you as you knock on the splintering door. The unit is cute and quaint, and you distract yourself by getting a better look at the sage green columns. 

Stiles opens the door, looking disarmingly soft in his worn sweatpants and stretched-out t-shirt—like cuddling on the weekend, like playing video games until sunrise, like home. He blinks at you slowly, pretty pink mouth slightly ajar.

You shift on the soles of your sneakers, jamming your hands into your hoodie pockets. “Hey.”

He blinks some more and seems to be only capable of repeating what he hears, “Hey.”

“So,” you dig the toe of your shoe into the porch, staring at a warped patch, curved from seasons of melting snow, and shrug, “I was in the neighborhood. Thought I’d drop by.”

He recovers from his stupor and leans against the doorframe, hands tucked under his armpits. “You were in the neighborhood,” his head tilts with his arched brow, “in Philadelphia.”

“Well,” you try not not to smile, “it was on my way.”

Nodding, Stiles rubs his chin and purses his lips. You want to kiss the smirk off of his stupid face. “Right, the classic eastbound Stanford route.”

“Not quite.” You adjust the strap of your duffle bag on your shoulder, easing some of the ache pinching at the base of your skull, “New transfer orientation is on Monday. Turns out Princeton’s comp sci department is decent.”

His face becomes guarded, but there’s a little something like hope behind the uncertainty, “4th in the country.”

Something warm inside your stomach flutters. He knows. Of course, he knows. He probably researched it all the way back in high school. You brush your hair out of your eyes and hum, “Mhm.”

Stiles slides his socked foot back and forth, slipping on the polished floor of his cozy entryway. He barely catches himself on the doorknob. You laugh until he says, “Stanford’s 2nd.”

Your shoulder lifts, “That's correct.”

His chin dips as he searches your face for something. You smile at him, and he swallows; it looks painful. “You turned down MIT because it was too far from home.”

“That's also correct,” you say quietly with a jerky nod. 

His eyes go wide as he shakes his head, almost violently. He almost slips again with the dramatic effort, “MIT’s 1st in comp-sci.” 

You steady him with a palm against his chest, swiping your thumb over his ribs. His heart thrashes under your touch, and your face lifts with a timid, tender smile. “Sure, but Princeton’s ranked #1 nationally. Overall champs, baby. Suck it.”

Stiles finally smiles, but it’s hesitant. “You don’t say.”

You let a breathy exhale and drop your hands to your sides, curling and uncurling your fingers into tight fists. He’s still looking at you, a cute little wrinkle in-between his brows, waiting for something more. Fair enough. He kind of laid it all out on the line the last time you spoke in-person—he kind of deserves to stew a little after everything he put you through, but you’ve forgiven him, decided you want to be happy more than you want to punish him.

You roll your shoulders back and tilt your chin to meet his gaze. “I don’t believe in soulmates.”

Stiles’s face goes sour, and he crosses his arms firmly over his chest, mouth twitching between a pout and a frown. “You stopped in Philly just to tell me tha—”

You rock onto your tiptoes to press a finger to his lips, biting back a smile when they pucker like a fish, and say, “Will you kindly shut it for a minute? I need to get through this. I practiced a lot on the plane.” His eyes narrow, sullen and irritated, but he keeps his lips pressed together, waiting impatiently for you to finish.

You slip your finger from his mouth to cup his jaw, thumbing just below his cheekbone, and his body goes lax, irritation slowly seeping from his lanky limbs to the floor. Grinning, you poke the tip of your tongue at him, and he swallows hard as he tracks the movement.

“As I was saying,” you smile through the snark and slide your hands to his chest, resting against the vibration of his thudding heart, “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking lately, and I don’t think there’s just one person out there for everyone—but that’s a good thing, right? I mean, the entire concept of a soulmate is basically just a blackhole. You’re falling, and falling, and falling—and there’s no end; you’re just trapped. There's no choice. I don’t want to love like that—I don’t want to love you like that.” 

It’s cute, the way his face screws up around a theory. It’s a familiar expression, and you can’t help but melt at the knees while you watch his eyes flick back and forth, adding up all your expressions and trying to calculate the meaning. The corner of your mouth pulls into a slip of a smile, “If I turned around right now and never saw you again, I’d be okay. I mean, I wouldn’t drop dead or anything.” 

He sucks in sharply, head jerking back, “What the fu—”

“Hush, I’m almost done.” You keep going before he can interrupt you again, rushing through the rest of your speech, running out of air and restraint, “I think that I could get over you, eventually, years and years from now—but the point is—what I realized is: I don’t want to. I don’t want to get over you. I don’t want to find someone else. Stiles, I love you—I’m in love with you, and I really think tha—”

His lips are wet and warm against yours, and you whine softly into his mouth at the familiarity. He hooks his thumbs in the belt loops on your jeans and yanks you closer, until your chests are pressed together and you can feel him breathe. You were right—the beard burn is delectable.

The kiss slows into something less desperate, something more like forever, and Stiles brushes his lips over yours in a few chaste pecks. When your lashes finally flutter open, you see that he’s grinning at you. It’s so wide, so happy, and his eyes crinkle at the corners as he says, “Sorry, you just would not shut up, so I figured it was either kiss you or shove something in your big mouth—and I’m not super confident in my CPR skills. Scott and I really spent most of the time figuring out how many pencils we could fit into the dummy’s mouth.”

“I take it back.” You push his face away from you, but a laugh bubbles past your swollen lips when Stiles pinches your waist. “I hate you.”

“Nope. No refunds.” Stiles shakes his head solemnly and wraps his hand around your hip, squeezing possessively, “You kiss it, you buy it. That’s what Coach said about the dummy.” 

“Well,” your arms find their way around his neck, and your fingers wind into the soft hair curling behind his ears, “you are a dummy.”

“The dumbest,” he agrees. He’s smiling, but his eyes are sincere, cloudy with guilt. “Baby, I never should’ve—”

You take great satisfaction in your turn shutting him up with a kiss, tugging on his hair until you’re on your tiptoes and he’s groaning into your mouth. “I think we’ve been miserable for a long time,” you whisper, breath ghosting across his shiny lips. He shivers, and you press your temple against his forehead, “I think I’ve had enough of it. How ‘bout you?” 

Stiles nods quickly and dips in to kiss you again. “Can I say sorry one more time?” he mumbles, kissing the ridge of your ear.

“I suppose,” you sigh and fall back onto your heels. 

He takes your bag from your shoulder and guides you into his apartment, kicking the door shut so that he doesn’t have to let go of your hand. There’s a thud as he drops the duffle bag onto the floor, and you barely have the time to take-in the ratty little sofa and coffee table piled with empty pizza boxes before he’s on you again. “I’m,” he kisses the corner of your mouth, and it twitches with the contact, “so,” his lips trail to your cheek, “very,” he presses a kiss to your temple, “truly,” to your hairline, “forever-ly,” to the tip of your nose, “sorry,” to your mouth. 

You sigh as he settles in for a real kiss and fall back onto the couch with him on top of you, disrupting his rhythm with a breathy giggle. He braces his weight onto his arms, and you wriggle down until your face is directly below his. “Hi,” you trace his bottom lip with your finger, smiling when he purses his lips to kiss it. 

“Hey.” He looks drunk: cheeks flushed, eyes hazy with pleasure, body loose and free from critical thinking—and you think to yourself that you’d do just about anything to make sure he’s this happy for the rest of his life. 

Stiles rolls, bringing you into his side with an arm around your waist, and presses against your lower back until you're crushed against him. Still, you squirm closer. Neither of you say anything for a long time, content with the sound of each other’s breathing, and then Stiles hums in his throat a little and plays with the ends of your hair, “So. You’re gonna live in New Jersey.”

“Yup,” your mouth pops with the ‘p.’

He grins, “Wow. You must, like, really love me or something.”

“Or something,” you tease, and he bites your shoulder in retaliation. 

“Jersey isn’t so bad,” his voice is muffled against his teeth, still embedded in your sweatshirt. Well, his technically.

You laugh, “It’s not?”

“Nah,” Stiles pulls back to look at you and scratches at the back of his neck, lifting a shoulder, “wouldn’t mind living there for the…beaches.”

“The Shore, you mean?” you grin, trying to imagine Stiles with a bad spray tan and slicked back hair. 

He grins right back and strokes your cheek, “Yeah, I’d move there for the Shore. I’ve actually been searching for just the right opportunity to show off my scrawny arms and pasty complexion. It’s like, what, a 40 minute drive from there to Penn?”

“Trenton would be around that, but I was thinking Pennypack would only be 30 from Princeton.” Stiles looks at you through lidded eyes, suspicious. You grin, “For the cheesesteaks, obviously.”

“Obviously,” he quips, but you can tell his heart isn’t in it. His face turns serious as he whispers, “You don’t have to do this,” into the quiet air humming between you. “I would’ve transferred to a school in California if I knew you still wanted me.” A flash of something ignites behind his eyes, warming the amber to whiskey, and he sits up a little, reaching over your head for his phone, “I’ll do it right now.”

You clutch his wrist and shake your head, pulling on his arm until he’s close enough to feel your lashes brush against his skin, “That’s why I didn’t ask. You’ve been dreaming about this program your entire life.”

Stiles is unusually still as he stares you down. His incisor digs into his bottom lip with a cruel bite, “What about your dreams?”

You huff, “What part of #1 don’t you get? I literally just told you to suck it. In case you forgot, I cordially invite you to suck it again, #6.” He smiles, but his eyes remain unconvinced. Your face softens, all the muscles and cartilage going gooey with affection, “It was never about Stanford, Stiles. It was about home. Guess it took you going away to figure out home sucks without you. S'not really home at all, actually.”

His lashes flutter slowly as he blinks, shaking his head, tongue running over his teeth as he struggles for air and words in equal measure. You kiss him until he finds them. “I know you don’t believe in it,” Stiles breathes out, “but I don’t think I could survive you being gone. Not again.”

You stroke over the planes of his face and hum thoughtfully, “I believe you wouldn’t want to.” Your shoulder twitches with a quick shrug as you add, “I know I don’t.”

His mouth chases your fingertips, pressing kisses to them every so often, and he closes his eyes heavily—like he hasn’t slept in months, maybe since the night he broke up with you. “These last few months have been just the fuckin’ worst,” he finally manages a smirk after you kiss his nose in agreement, “like a fuckzillion times worse than the summer I broke my leg, and you and Scott signed up for rec soccer without me.”

“You’ve got to let that go,” your voice is high and whiny, and Stiles’s smirk widens, “we didn’t even win any games.” You tickle him, heart leaping into your throat when he laughs and squirms away from your relentless fingers, “Didn’t have our good luck charm with us, obviously.”

“Obviously,” his grin is smug with satisfaction. Stiles tangles your legs together, legs clunking clumsily but that’s just part of the delicious charm, and hooks his chin over your shoulder, “So, Pennypack, huh.”

You nod, “I really don’t want to live in Jersey.”

You can’t see him, but Stiles peers at you, a little dubious, a lot fond. “And it’s not just for me?”

You grin, caught, and shake your head firmly, “Absolutely not.”

“It’s for the cheesesteaks,” his brow arches, and he seems to finally understand when the room becomes a swathe your smile, of your bubbling laughter: He makes you as happy as you make him. 

“Obviously.” You mean, I love you, I love you, I love you, and I never ever want to stop.  Stiles hears it, of course he does, and he says it back, sealing it with a kiss, “Obviously.”

[bonniebird]

Rebekah Mikaelson x Fem!Reader  x Theo Raeken

Requested by @nervousfandom

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Request: nervousfandom asked: Can I get a Rebekah mikaelson Theo raeken and female!reader angst where reader is turned into a vampire? Then Theo wants to be a hybrid? Please and thank you

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Theo stopped as he saw Rebekah. Melissa glanced at him and hurried to talk to the nurse heading into your room while Lydia and Malia stood awkwardly behind Theo. he hurried over to Rebekah who blinked tearfully as if she was in shock.

“I… I don’t understand. That giant beast. We killed it. Then. She was on her way home and…” Rebekah let out a sob and covered her mouth. Theo hugged her tightly while Lyda hurried to gather Rebekah’s things. It was obvious she’d been there for a while. “Maybe you need a break.” Lydia offered. Theo nodded slowly. “I’ll stay.” Was all he could get out. She let out a shaky sigh and eyed Lydia before nodding. “I’ll stay too. In case anything happens.” Malia said when there was an awkward silence. Rebekah hurried out while Lydia followed. She gave Malia a gesture that she intended to say, comfort Theo but judging from the look on Malia’s face as Lydia got into the lift, she hadn’t understood. Rebekah got off the lift and before Lydia could step out she was gone. Something wasn’t sitting right with her and she stopped, looking around. Rebekah continued out of the car park, running as fast as she could back to where the fight was earlier in the evening. Elijah and Klaus were already finishing up. They had managed to disguise most of what happened as wild animals. “Rebekah?” Elijah said as he spotted her. “You need to go to the hospital.” She said to Klaus, ignoring Elijah who watched carefully. “Why?” Klaus asked and she sighed slowly, glancing at Elijah who realised what she was going to ask. Before he could remind her that you didn’t want it she spoke, firmly. “I need you to turn (Y/N). I don’t know if she’s going to make it.” Rebekah said. Elijah moved closer but she turned on him, fangs bared. Klaus paused for a moment and watched them both before vanishing into the night. “You know…” Elijah started. “I know exactly what any of us would do for someone that we love.” She said forcefully. Elijah watched her carefully and realised that she would do whatever it took to keep him from interfering and sighed. He wouldn’t be able to stop this. But he could certainly prepare for your transition and make it more comfortable.

Klaus entered the car park beneath the hospital. He could smell the banshee and hear her calling for Rebekah. He almost made it to the top of the stairwell onto your floor when he came across Theo. he was waiting. “Rebekah…” Klaus started, his attitude cold and annoyed. He could make many wrongs right by doing this for her. He didn’t want to live with her through the heartbreak losing you would bring either. “Rebekah knows (Y/N) doesn’t want this… that isn’t why I’m here.” Theo said slowly. Klaus sighed and looked him up and down before nodding slowly, waiting for an explanation. “I need you to turn me too.” Klaus stared at Theo for a few moments before moving forwards. He didn’t flinch at all when Klaus was suddenly so close his body tingled. The kind of tingle you got when a predator was too close for comfort. He held his ground. “You’re sure you want that?” Klaus asked curiously. “Yes. This is the last time I’m not going to be able to protect (Y/N).” Theo said firmly. Klaus tilted his head in amusement. There was no way Theo could have done anything at all. No one could have. Shy of perhaps the Bennett witch and she would have had to know the car crash was going to happen. “If I turn her too… she won't need you to protect her.” Klaus said coldly. Theo stayed frozen to the spot, firm, unmoving and blocking the door he needed to sneak past the banshee and her ever-present coyote. “Fine.” growled out. Perhaps having the boy sired to him would be useful Klaus thought to himself as he bit his wrist and held it out. Klaus left his limp body in the stairwell and continued forward. He could hear the banshee finding him and calling for help. Slipping into your room he could smell his sister. She had been with you since the accident. He smiled at the nurse. She always made him nervous and he could never remember her name. “Melissa.” She said as if she could hear his thoughts. He nodded firmly and glanced out of the door. “There’s some commotion out there. Something about Theo. He’s probably having one of his angry fits.” Klaus said quickly. He was surprised by how worried the woman looked before she got up and left, rushing to see what was wrong. It was all far too easy to get to you. Though if Rebekah had been against him turning you he had no doubt it would take a great deal more work on his part. The rest was easy. A few drops of blood past your lips and a careful eye on the machines that beeped around you. Once he was sure the blood was doing its work, he simply unplugged the machine. As soon as he did he felt something change. A few minutes later a red blur of anger rushed into the room as the banshee hurled herself at him. Klaus fled and decided it would be best to hide out until the group had settled down. “Rebekah shouldn’t have asked you.” Elijah said. He was waiting outside of the hospital, leaning against his car. “You could have intervened.” Klaus pointed out. Elijah sighed and looked up at the room he was listening to. They were hurrying to try and save you. It was far too late for you… or Theo. “Where is our dear sister?” Klaus asked as they got in the car. “With your daughter so she had an alibi.” Elijah answered firmly. Klaus chuckled, sitting back in his seat as he shook his head. “Of course. I am to take the blame for all this.” Klaus answered firmly. “You put (Y/N) in danger in the first place. You called, had her drive wherever she was going. For all I know you were in the car that hit her. Besides, You deserve to take the blame for something.” Elijah glanced at Klaus who couldn’t quite tell if his brother was joking so stayed silent. The wolves wouldn’t be happy. But he had done what Rebekah and Theo asked.

Rebekah Tags:

@gillybear17 @ravennoore14 @the-caravello-post @killing-gremlin @aegonandaemondtargaryenslut18 @lchufflepuffcorn @geekyandgay98 @princess-charming-01 @savagemickey03 @kaitieskidmore1 @emsmultiverse

Theo Tags:

@gillybear17 @ravennoore14 @the-caravello-post @killing-gremlin @aegonandaemondtargaryenslut18 @lchufflepuffcorn @maplefire18 @lightqueen16 @savagemickey03 @kaitieskidmore1 @fatherfigured