#theo raeken x stiles stilinski

[realityescapee01]

Wounds and Scratches

Steo | Stiles x Theo

Theo came back to the pack house, bloodied and wounded. He just came back from an undercover op for the pack. He was able to capture a rogue omega.

He was stabbed to his stomach, slashed on his arm and cut on his palm. He took the omega back to Scott for interrogation. Afterwards, Scott gave him an order to patrol the tunnels.

"Oh, for fuck's sake, Scott! He's hurt, send someone else!" Stiles had enough.

Theo is hurt and Stiles goes off on it.

Theo snarled, he struggled to get on his feet. He just got slammed to a wall by their enemy. He was in pain but he was still able to distract the enemy enough for Stiles to lay the mountain ash prison around it.

"Good job, guys."

Scott and them went back to the pack house. Stiles watched Theo bend over a bit, holding his tummy and has a pained expression on his bloody face. Dried up blood from his forehead. Busted lips and a sprained ankle.

Stiles thought back at the bad things Theo did to him and the pack. That is why Stiles thought Theo deserves all the beatings he's taking.

Scott decided to take in Theo despite everything he did. Scott being the kind and giving person he is. Stiles was against it. He doesn't want Theo in. But Scott insisted they could use Theo's skills.

What skills? The manipulative skills? The cunning, the smarts, deceptive skills? Well, yeah, those are useful. Stiles begrudgingly admitted.

So here is Theo in their pack. Being used as a scout, a spy, and first liner. Scott always sends him in first, first to whatever danger they're facing.

It's strange to Stiles because Theo wouldn't put up with those, but seeing as Theo was indeed putting up with all of it, maybe, Theo is doing everything to be better now, to be good, to make up to them, to make up for everything he's done.

Stiles heard all about it from Liam. Theo's redemption arc. Stiles wasn't buying it at first but later on, he started to believe too.

Or maybe the courting of Theo is affecting his judgement.

Oh, yeah, Theo is courting Stiles.

For about 2 months now. At first, Stiles is just playing Theo, but things got shitty for him and he genuinely needed Theo's help.

Like when he's jeep broke down. Theo drove him to and from his FBI internship. Every weekend, when he comes home and goes back to the FBI classes.

The long drives gave them a lot of time with each other. And Stiles found himself enjoying those times.

Stiles found himself chatting and calling Theo at nights after classes too. Sometimes while Theo was in tunnel patrol. To discuss and bounce off ideas from his homeworks of cases; murder mysteries and investigations. And Theo gave him very good insights every time.

Maybe because Theo is one little psycho himself that is why he understands how those criminals think. Stiles laughed on the idea. He is like those FBI agents having a serial killer to talk to and consult cases about.

-+-+-+-

Theo calls him, all wounds and injuries healed up. He is driving Stiles home. Stiles jogs to Theo's truck and they go and get drive thru food. Stiles ask if Theo's okay. He looked hurt really bad.

He's got bandage on his hand. Again.

"What happened there?"

"Oh, I got cut. And I keep getting cut there so it's getting harder and harder to heal." -Theo explaining, trying not to put pressure on it too much while driving.

"I'm fine, Stiles."

Stiles have an idea of what happened. Having seen how hard Scott is using Theo out there. Then he received a chat from Scott to remind Theo about his underground tunnel rounds later tonight. Stiles felt irritated. Theo just recovered and now Scott is on him again with the errands.

-Isn't Liam on tunnel patrol tonight?- Stiles replied to Scott.

-I'm taking Liam with us in the talks. Where are you guys now? Will you be here in an hour?-

-Yeah, we're close. Keep Liam on patrol, let's bring Theo in the meeting-

-Why Theo?-

-It's decided. Just wait for us.-

They are to meet with the new group in town. Invite them to join forces or discuss terms on co-existing in Beacon Hills.

Scott met up with Theo and Stiles on the way to meet the werejaguars. They learned they're all female, a small group of 5. The talks start. Stiles let Scott do his thing while he observed.

"... We don't wanna join forces, we do not wanna stay near the Nemeton, which is basically a signal light to all hunters. Just let us be for a few days, I promise we won't cause trouble."

Their leader explained. Scott huddled with Stiles and Theo.

"I don't know about you, but werejaguars are highly aggressive." -Theo muttered.

"I agree." -Stiles nodded, remembering a certain Kate Argent.

"Yeah, I think so too. I will ask them to leave by dawn. Liam and the others can stay here to watch them until then" -Scott relayed the decision to the group leader. There were some friction but Scott brandishing his alpha status made the leader back down.

"Okay... but... we will only leave if he comes with us."

"What?" -Scott didn't expect a request.

"Him."

"No way." -Stiles strongly disagreed.

The group leader was pointing at Theo. "At least give us some protection. A capable mate for me."

Theo just scoffed. "I'm not up for mating."

"That or we stay as long as we like."

"... How about this." -Stiles proposed. "The real reason you're here is because you're all sick. You plan to steal our herb reserve. Preferably tonight because you know our resident doctor wouldn't be home."

The gang leader took a defensive stance.

"Okay, I'll give you a generous amount of 9 herbs and then you leave tonight. No taking Theo with you."

"What if I don't agree?"

"Well... you have to deal with a true alpha." -Stiles turned his head to Scott, who was half shifted by now.

"It was said this place and your pack is sanctuary to all supernatural beings!"

"Not if you threaten to take anyone away." -Scott said with a growl.

The group leader knew there is no way they'd win. "Fine. Get me the herbs."

After Scott's new recruits arrived with the herbs, the werejaguars left. But their leader really likes Theo, and as she passed him by, she said:

"We'll be 2 towns over, if you change your mind." -plus a hand, slowly gliding down Theo's muscular arm.

"I have my eyes set on someone else." -Theo shrugged the leader's hand away from him.

Theo watched the group leave and looked at Stiles. Having a renewed faith on a chance.

A chance that Stiles actually likes him back. With the human getting all no-way-you're-taking-Theo upset a while ago.

After that, Scott still wanted to send Theo on tunnel patrol duty but Stiles said Theo's driving him home even before Scott got the chance to say it. And so Theo drove Stiles home.

"Hey, Theo. If you like, you can stay here. Liam could use the tunnel patrol experience." -Stiles invited him to stay there to avoid the patrol task.

And Theo did. They went up to Stiles' room and Theo acting all strange.

"Hey? What's the matter?" -Stiles just went about the room as normal.

"...This is the first time for me. Here, in your room."

"What?!? You've never been here?" -Stiles remembered all the pack members whose been in his room. And yeah, this is Theo's first time to be here. "Well, there's a first to everything. You never know, you might be coming here more often in the future."

"W-What?" -Theo didn't expect that.

"Nothing! Nothing." -Stiles blushed. He was just being playful, flirty if you will. Because it's true, if he decides to answer Theo, then definitely, Theo would be in his room more often.

Theo was smirking and shaking his head, thinking of a comeback, but that caught him so off guard that he couldn't come up with one.

"Uhm, I'm gonna head to bed. By the way, use this on your wounds." -Stiles threw him a poultice Deaton taught him to make. Something to make the wounds stay clean for a longer time.

Theo caught it and sat on the chair by the window. He took the gauze off his hand and tended to it. He lifted his shirt and applied the poultice to random cuts on his torso.

Stiles just watched him. He memorized all the spots Theo has wounds and scratches and bruises.

"Well, uhm, Theo, I'm tired, I'll go to sleep, stay as long as you like." -Stiles headed to bed.

As he laid down, he smiled to himself on how things turned. Before, he couldn't stand Theo, but now he can sleep in the same room with Theo present.

The next day, Stiles woke up and Theo was gone, left a message of thanks and that he headed to school.

Theo goes to school on weekends, in a special program to make up for the lost time when he was dragged to hell; and once made, he can go back to school to continue his last sem of senior year.

Stiles thought to give Theo a visit.

He finds him on the lacrosse field. Coach Finstock recruited him.

Theo sensed Stiles and looked at his direction. Stiles waved.

"Bilinski!" -Coach Finstock intercepted him. "What are you doing here?"

"I missed you, coach!" - Stiles attempted to give coach a kiss.

"Ugh!" -Coach Finstock stopped him with a hand to his face.

Stiles knew that way, coach would leave him alone. Theo jogged towards him.

"Hey." -Theo in lacrosse practice uniform.

"You joined?" -Stiles sat in the bleachers.

"Yeah." -Theo stood right in front of him.

"I never knew you like sports. Sports aside from hunting and killing."

Theo laughed at that. "Just to release some aggression."

Stiles just nodded. He looked at the other players. He remembered his lacrosse days back then. And that winning shot he got. It was the fun days. Way before the shit hit the fan.

Stiles stayed to watch Theo practice with the team. He decided to stay even after and play with Theo a bit.

"Fine! But make sure you tidy up the things!" -Coach Finstock let them stay.

"Want a serious match or just for fun match, Stiles?"

"Just for fun." -Stiles gripped the lacrosse stick.

"Okay." -Theo smirked and threw the ball right past Stiles' left shoulder and into the goal.

"Ha! For fun, I said! Not for the Olympics or something!"

Theo laughed. They change places. It's now Theo's time to be goalie.

"Theo, no superpowers!" -Stiles was gearing up for a shot.

"Okay."

Stiles kept licking his lips and aiming and aiming for the goal before actually taking the shot. And of course, Theo caught it. Stiles was mad accusing him of using chimera powers but Theo didn't. Stiles is just really not good at it.

"Okay, that's it. I don't wanna play anymore!" -Stiles throwing the stick down.

"I didn't use supernatural powers, Stiles. You're just really bad at it."

"Just- Forget it!" -Stiles waving his hand off.

Stiles waited for Theo in the lockers. He looked at the seat where they confronted Theo. And where he said: "I came back for you." Stiles didn't really know the gravity of those words.

Theo wanted him. From day one. And there he is right now, feeling the same. He wants Theo now.

He turned his attention to the sound from the showers.

Theo is in there. Naked.

Stiles felt a little panic and stepped out of the lockers. A few minutes after, Theo stepped out too.

"Stiles, are you okay? I smelled panic."

"I'm fine. Let's get outta here." -Stiles walked away. Fast. He wanted to answer Theo but Theo is not asking him the question yet.

"Drop me by the tunnel entrance. I'm on patrol." -Theo said, settling in the passenger seat of the jeep.

"Oh. Okay."

"Stiles? Tomorrow, will you go out with me?"

"Oh? Where are you taking me?" -Stiles smiled. Theo courting him, does this quite a lot, take him on dates.

"It's a surprise." -Theo was smiling.

"You know my anxiety, I don't like surprises."

"I know. But you'll love this."

Stiles agreed. And so their date was set.

The following week, Stiles gradually calling out Scott for using Theo too much. Scott took the use and abuse too seriously.

Stiles would lightly tell Scott to give Theo a few minutes or hours before being sent for work again. Sometimes they'd be out, hanging out, and Stiles would tell Scott to let Liam do the patrols. The kid needs that experience somehow.

Their date night arrived. Theo was driving them in his truck when Scott called. An emergency.

Theo sighed. "I guess date night is cancelled."

"Apparently so." -Stiles confirmed as he gestured for Theo to make that U-turn.

They were called towards the Nemeton and they saw Scott and Liam, shifted, chasing after their enemy of the week. The werejaguar leader came back.

"I warned you." -Scott intimidating the werejaguar. "Why are you back?"

"Nothing much... just some petty reason." -she spotted Theo and Stiles running over to them.

Liam lunged at her but missed. She charged towards Stiles and Theo.

Theo was fully prepared to intercept her but she made a sharp and quick turn towards Stiles.

They rolled over the ground. Stiles tried to wrestle her off but to no avail. She pushed Stiles over the cliff.

"Holy sh-" - Stiles couldn't do anything.

He was falling off the cliff. He could only hold his hand up, hoping to be saved.

"Stiles!" -Theo jumped after him.

Theo caught him and held onto exposed vines on the cliff.

"Tch!" -Theo exclaimed as the vine rope burned through the bandage on his hand. And brutally so onto the wound there. Making it bleed again.

They slid for a little bit more before finally getting caught on bigger vines, stopping them from falling.

Back at the top, Scott and Liam were trying the werejaguar to a tree and then hurrying to help Theo and Stiles. Lowering down a rope to get them back up.

"Stiles! Oh man!" -Scott pulled Stiles into a tight hug once the two was saved. "I was so worried!"

"I was too." -Stiles hugged him as tight, looking at Theo, nodding him a thank you.

They subdued the werejaguar leader, and as agreed -Scott will try to talk to the supernatural beings walking into Beacon Hills, with the goal of peace, and when it is not achieved, the hunters will take care of it- Scott called Chris Argent to deal with the werejaguar.

As they were walking, Scott was going on about checking the old werejaguar hideout before calling it a day.

And Scott wanted to send Theo and Liam.

"Oh, for fuck's sake, Scott! He's hurt, send someone else!" Stiles went off.

"O-Okay. Me and Liam would go." -Scott conceded. He felt guilty afterwards, he never checked on Theo. And now only saw Theo's hand. "Sorry, Theo."

"Yeah. Apology accepted." -Theo soothing his wounded palm.

They parted ways. Scott and Liam towards the hideout and Stiles and Theo towards Theo's jeep.

Stiles applied poultice on Theo's palm. "Thanks. A lot."

"No problem. As if I would just let you die on me right there. You owe me a date."

"Well... our sched just freed up."

---

And so, they revisited their original schedule for tonight. The date:

"W-What the-" -Stiles was greeted by tiny lights floating in some enclosure far from the reserve. "What is this? I've never... there were no fireflies in Beacon Hills. Ever!"

"There are now." -Theo watched him enjoy the view.

There were so many. Flying, floating, near the trees too... it looked magical.

"Since when? How?" -Stiles wanted to get to the bottom of this.

"I don't know. Must be a Nemeton thing. Again."

Stiles wanted to ask questions again, but the view was so beautiful, he just accepted that explanation. The Nemeton does make and affect all sorts of stuff.

"Stiles? Can I ask the questions now?"

"Sure." -Stiles waved his hand, eyes fixed on the sea of fireflies in front of them.

"Will you... be my mate?"

"..." -Stiles blinked. A lot of times.

"Stiles?" -Theo was concerned.

Stiles looked back at him. The fireflies are near them now, surrounding them. Making Theo have the background of little lights floating.

Beautiful.

"Yes." -Stiles said.

Theo smiled, ear to ear.

"I was waiting for you to ask that." -Stiles revealed.

"I was waiting for you to be sure." -Theo walked slowly towards Stiles.

Reached for Stiles' waist and pulled him into a kiss.

-+-+-+ (complete) +-+-+-

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[incorrectquotes-multiphandom]

[starkira42]

[azraphels]

Stiles: From now on we will be using code names.

Stiles: You can address me as Eagle One.

Stiles: Malia is “been there done that”.

Stiles: Lydia is “currently doing that”.

Stiles: Derek is “it happened once in a dream”.

Stiles: Scott is “if I had to pick a dude”.

Stiles: And Theo is...

Stiles: Eagle Two

Theo: Oh thank God

[inlovewhithafairytale]

Y/N x Theo Raeken

[imaginationismykingdom]

Liam: Time for plan G.

Lydia: Don't you mean plan B?

Stiles: No we tried plan B a while ago. I had to skip plan C because of technical difficulties.

Lydia: What happened to plan D?

Stiles: Plan D was the desperate disguise attempt half an hour ago.

Lydia: Well what about plans E and F?

Liam: Plan F was a failure and I'd hoped not to use plan E. Theo dies in plan E.

Malia: *raises hand* I like plan E.

Theo: I'm standing like right here you know?

[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.

[usermischief]

[twpromptsillneverwrite]

Scott: Don't freak out. It's perfectly normal to have a gay dream, doesn't mean you're gay.

Stiles: It wasn't any man, it was Derek.

Scott: That doesn't prove anything, who has had a gay dream about Derek?

Isaac, Liam, Parrish (raise their hand):...

Theo: I haven't met the guy yet, but me too.

[livingdeadvoid]

Liam: My mom told me to follow my dreams.

Scott: So you followed Theo around?

Stiles: I MEANT LIKE A CAREER OR SOMETHING

Theo: I don't know whether I should focus on the fact that I'm Liam's dream or the fact he called Stiles mom.

Mason: Probably the first one.

[heartbreakgrill]

out of the woods: theo raeken.

1989 (Heartbreak Grill’s Version)

looking at it now it all seems to simple. we were lying on your couch. i remember.

“i have to go.”

theo groaned as the words left my lips. his arms, wrapped securely around my waist, tightened their grip as he inhaled a hopeless breath.

“no,” he nudged my neck with his nose, eliciting a soft giggle from me. “no, stay, please.”

“theo,” i wriggled away from his ticklish touches, “i have to go.”

i tried to remove myself from his grasps, but he was strong. his large, warm hands, slid over my bare stomach, gripping onto my hips. he pressed my back into the mattress, as my wrestling arms came to rest on his shoulders. he had been growing out his hair and now it hung low enough to ghost over my collarbones. i shivered as the strands drug across my skin, theo’s lips attached to my neck.

“theo,” i persisted, “scott gets off at 8. he’s going to come into my room and check if i’m there. when i’m not, he’s going to notify every single supernatural within a thirty mile radius, and every policeman within the county. they will be on your doorstep by 8:15, and i will be dead.”

as i spoke, i continued to try to fight theo’s strong hold, lifting my body from the mattress, and pushing back at his shoulders. my words seemed like a good enough threat to get him moving.

“i don’t want you to go,” he moved to the edge of the bed, feet flat upon the floor.

i stood and gathered my clothes, occasionally tossing him pointed glances, “as much as i enjoy this- i would prefer to not die tonight. i have a chemistry exam tomorrow. here-“

theo rolled his eyes as i tossed his boxers to him. it landed on top of his head. i stifled a laugh and tugged on my jeans.

theo ripped the boxers off and mocked my laughter, “haha, very funny.”

i shrugged and stuck my head through my t-shirt. “listen,” i made my way towards the front door of theo’s tiny, studio apartment. it wasn’t much, but it beat sleeping in his truck every night, like he had been doing. i laced up my shoes, “i should be able to see you tomorrow night. i’ll text you, though, let you know what’s happening.”

theo noticed i was reaching for the door handle and quickly shimmied into his boxers. he slapped a hand against the door, “wait!”

it slammed shut. i looked up at him, an expectant expression on my face. “yeah?”

theo caught my chin in his hands, and planted a sweet kiss on my lips. i melted into the moment, leaning my weight into his hold, allowing my fingers to gently ghost his chest. however, as soon as theo moved to deepen the exchange, my phone started ringing.

my eyes flew open, a wide, worried look taking over my dazed face. i held out a finger towards theo, as if to shush him, as i answered the call.

“hello? oh, hi, scott,” i shot theo a glance. he crossed his arms, figure shrunk in a guilty demeanor. “no, yeah- i’m on my way home now. oh, chinese sounds good. yep- no, yeah. just gotta shower first. just- with gina. yep. studying. chem exam tomorrow! yep. yeah. k. love you! bye.”

i stared at my phone for a second, as though scott were going to climb out of it and kill theo for even being in the same room as me. when that didn’t happen, i let out a deep breath.

“okay,” i looked to the boy, “i have got to get going. i’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?”

“yeah,” theo couldn’t help but grin down at me, “tomorrow.”

i noticed his body tilt towards mine, his chest lean towards me, and i held up a finger, cocked a brow. “don’t even think about it or i will never get out of here.”

i could hear him groaning as i shut the door behind me.

–

you took a polaroid of us, then discovered the rest of the world was black and white, but we were in screaming color.

“what are you doing for your birthday?”

i balanced the popcorn bowl on my lap as i twisted around on the couch. theo glanced over at me from the fridge, flashing that bright, wide grin.

i couldn’t help but smile, though nothing special really was happening. “not sure yet. why do you ask?”

“just wondering.”

i stared at the back of his stooped, trying to read between the lines of his very few words. theo could feel my gaze, could hear my curious heartbeat, and looked up against. “what?”

i slowly brought a piece of popcorn to my lips, brows furrowed, “why are you asking?”

“nothing,” he reached into the fridge and grabbed a can of coke. the door shut softly behind him. he neared the couch and cracked open the drink. i continued to stare him. “why do you keep staring at me like that?”

“because i know it’s not nothing,” i set the bowl down on the coffee table and came up onto my knees. theo tilted his head and peered down at me. “you’ve got stuff on your mind. say it. let it out into the open. this is a judgement free zone.”

he chuckled softly as i gestured to the tiny apartment. “not exactly a zone as is.”

i reached up and smacked his forearm. “just tell me! please?”

theo took another sip of his coke, thinking intensely. “there’s really not much to say. i was just thinking how your birthday is coming up and i wanted to maybe do something special for you.”

“wait, really?” i perked up, elbows pressed into the back of the couch and chin planted upon my palms. “aw, wait really?”

theo rolled his eyes, “yes, really. but, i know you guys probably have stuff planned. so, i was just trying to get a feel for when we could fit something in.”

“no one’s said anything to me about any plans. though,” my mind wandered a bit, and the stupid hope theo’s healing heart always gave me filled my lungs, “if they do figure something out, i don’t see why you couldn’t just come to that..?”

theo’s soft face hardened slightly, a gut wrenching frown painting his pink lips. “yeah…i don’t know about that. liam still wants me dead. scott and stiles hate me- not to mention malia and lydia probably would be happy to kick me in the balls.”

i thought over the words, imagining each scenario play out. he was right. “yeah…” i trailed off, “yeah, i don’t think that would happen. i just-“

i struggled to find my words, gaze distant, hope shattered. “i don’t know-“

“i know,” theo touched my cheek, fingers cold from the can of coke now in his other hand. “i know.”

“i’m tired of hiding, theo,” my voice came out quiet and timid, expressive to how i was truly feeling. it was exhausting, constantly sneaking around, always being on the lookout for scott.

“i know, baby,” he squatted down to my level, holding my face with both hands, now. his thumbs brushed over the apples of my cheeks, eyes catching my distant ones. “listen…i know it’s hard, but…they just don’t understand it, okay? they wouldn’t get it. you- you put your faith in me when i didn’t deserve it. if it wasn’t for you, if it wasn’t for your hope, i don’t think i would be the man i am today. you saw a lost, broken boy and you helped me get back on my feet. you helped me make up for every wrong i’ve done. i…”

he didn’t continue any sentence. he just pressed his lips together. my heart fluttered at the anticipation of what it could’ve been he wanted to say.

“i just wish…” i gathered some thoughts, “i wish they’d give you a chance.”

“one day,” theo kissed me shortly, “i think…one day, it’ll happen.”

we curled up on the tiny couch, fit for his small apartment, and watched a movie. i lay in the crevice of his side, clutching to his body like it would be taken from me. often, i worried that that would happen. scott would catch us, committing no crimes, and juror theo to a fate worse than death. it seemed so silly- scott was the sworn protector of this town. he always ensured everyone’s happiness, health, prosperity. yet, when it came to me, those guarantees fell short. he’d rather i be holed up in my room, or holed up at school, my nose in a book, than i live, than i date or work or go out with friends.

it made everything so complicated. it made my life complicated- i had rules to follow, i had curfews, i had to answer the phone every time he called or the entire world would fall apart. i understood my brother just wanted me to be safe, to stay alive- but he was ruining my life while trying to save it.

i looked up towards theo, worry swimming through my eyes. he turned his head at my own shuffling and smiled, though it faded at the sight of my worried face.

“hey, hey,” he shifted his body towards mine, “baby…it’s okay. hey…everything’s gonna be okay, yeah? i won’t let anything ruin this, okay?”

“i’m just worried he’s gonna take you away from me…”

“i know,” theo brushed the hair from my face, “i know, but i won’t let him. i…”

that unfinished thought again.

i set my hands upon theo’s shoulder, worry being coaxed down by the affection i felt for him. “i love you,” i admitted.

theo’s face softened, the gold flecks in his eyes on fire from my confession. he pulled my face closer towards his, rushing out a response before crashing our lips together.

“i love you.”

–

and i remember thinking: are we out of the woods yet? are we in the clear yet good?

“i saw theo today.”

i looked up from my plate, eyes widened in curiosity. i flicked my gaze between lydia, scott, stiles, malia, and liam. everyone paused from eating their food. they focused on lydia’s words.

scott straightened his stooped neck. his thick brows were furrowed with inquiry, “really? where?”

“the store,” lydia spoke pointedly. “he was buying a dozen roses from the supermarket.”

“well, at least we know he’s a cheap date,” stiles was quick to nip.

i felt my face grow warm, both from worry and frustration. i shoveled some noodles into my mouth.

malia poked at her straw, “what’s he doing here? i thought he left?”

“i think we all did,” scott sighed. he wiped a napkin across his face. “did he have any other groceries?”

lydia rolled her eyes towards the ceiling, as if to recite the items she saw in his cart. “eggs, milk, icing, chicken nuggets, a loaf of bread, and, i think, penne noodles. could’ve been elbow macaroni, though. couldn’t really tell.”

a smile creeped onto my face as i pieced together the groceries. i was supposed to see theo tonight, though i’d told mom and scott i was going to gina’s for a sleepover. i guess i had a birthday cake and flowers to look forward to.

everyone thought for a moment. then, stiles cracked another lame joke, “hey, maybe he’s going to make up for nearly killing y/n by baking her a cake!”

i choked on my water. scott reached a concerned hand over to pat my back. i pressed a napkin to my face and coughed erratically. “you okay?” scott brushed hair form my cheek.

i nodded wildly, “yep- yeah. yep! great. good. sorry.”

scott patted my back again before returning to the conversation. “for his sake, i hope he isn’t planning on doing that. i hope he isn’t planning on contacting any of us. if he does, you all need to tell me- immediately, okay? stiles, let your dad know he’s lingering around. y/n-“

i sniffled from my coughing fit. “yeah?”

scott’s face was lined with a deepened worry, brown eyes swimming with concern for me. “i don’t think i want you going to gina’s tonight. or anywhere but school for the time being. not until we know what theo’s doing here.”

my brows furrowed tightly, “what? no! what- why- how is that fair? no- scott. i can’t-“

“mom will agree,” scott cut me off. “i’m not risking anything.”

“but…” i went to continue to argue my case, but scott continued rattling off instructional orders to the rest of the group.

and, so, my birthday dinner turned into driving to the sheriff’s station with the entire pack. sitting in stilinki’s office until we figured out where theo was living. we drove to the street and patrolled his apartment until 1am. then, stiles dropped scott and i off at home.

nobody even sang me happy birthday.

looking at it now, last december, we were built to fall apart. then fall back together.

“it’s not much, but it’s better than nothing.”

“theo,” i grinned as i took a box from him. a big red bow adorned the glittery wrapping paper. it wasn’t heavy, and the size of the box was quite small. but my heart lit on fire from the lovely gesture. “you really shouldn’t have.”

“no, i wanted to,” he waved me off. “you deserve…so much. the world.”

i met his eyes and recognized that familiar, glistening adoration i’d gotten so used to. “i just…feel bad. you don’t have much money, and-“

“it doesn’t matter,” theo pressed a hand to my knee.

we were criss-cross on the couch, sparse christmas decorations scattered through his tiny apartment. i’d insisted on lining tinsel across the door, lights around the tv console, putting the fake tree in the already crowded corner. i hadn’t been able to come over much and wanted theo to be able to feel some semblance of joyous occasion when i wasn’t there. this was the first time we’d seen each other since thanksgiving.

i only managed to escape the house because i convinced scott that gina and i had to spend christmas together.

“open it!” theo squeezed my knee again.

i giggled at his excited stature and quickly unraveled the bow. inside, amidst the folds of a velvet box, was a necklace with the letter t hanging off of a gold chain. i grinned at the sight, “oh, my gosh! here- put it on me!”

i held my hair from my shoulders as theo clipped the necklace at the nape of my spine. his cold fingers ghosted across my skin until his palms were around my shoulders. he tugged my back into his chest, laying us down upon the couch.

your necklace hanging from my neck, the night we couldn't quite forget when we decided to move the furniture so we could dance.

silence enveloped our presence, a comforting feeling of peace that we rarely had. “i love you, theo,” i let myself whisper. i tried to say it more often than not, worried that one day i wouldn’t be able to remind him of it.

“we should tell scott.”

i pulled myself up, out of theo’s hold, turning to face him on the couch. i was bewildered. my face surely showed it, “what?”

theo ran a hand through his hair, “i think we should tell scott, y/n.”

i shook my head slightly, “no, no. no- we can’t do that. theo- no.”

his tone became increasingly critical, disagreeing with my own disapproval. “why not? im tired of hiding-“

“he’ll kill you, theo,” i rushed out. my breathing was anticipatory in it’s quick speed. “scott will kill you, theo.”

“i don’t know. he’s…merciful. i think if we tell him, we can-“

“theo, no!” i jumped from the couch. “please, just stop. i don’t want to fight about this with you. it’s not happening. end of stor-“

“why does that get to just be your decision? why don’t i get to have a say in this relationship? it’s all up to you!” theo followed me from our seats. he spoke wildly, his hands moving with his words.

i crossed my arms, “i risk everything every single day that i text you. i put myself on the line just to see you. i’m lying to my brother, my best friend- my mom! theo- i thought you understood-“

“i’m just tired of being your little secret. i want to be able to- to see you. i want to come to your birthday dinners and spend christmas morning with you. i want to be in your life. i feel like i’m just on the sidelines!”

“maybe you shouldn’t have tried to kill all of us!”

the words blurted from my lips before i could stop them. the stale silence that followed my heartless thoughts was bitter and cold. theo turned his shoulder from me, dropping his head into his hands.

“oh, my god,” i stepped forward, bracing my hands for impact. “i’m so sorry. theo- i-“

“i thought you’d forgiven me,” he murmured into his palm. “you told me you forgave me for that.”

“i did- i did, i just- i’m sorry! i don’t know why i said tha-“

“maybe scott’s right,” theo met my eyes finally, tears blurring his green ones.

“what-?”

“maybe i never will change. maybe i’m just a bad guy. maybe it’s not a good idea for you to be around me.”

“no, theo, no-“ he kept interrupting me.

“you should leave.”

i couldn’t find the words to stay, but i needed to.

i stepped forward, again, touching theo’s shoulder. he whipped his head back to face me, beautiful eyes darkened by the yellow hue, fangs protruding from his teeth, claws digging into his palms that were beginning to bleed.

“get out!” he roared.

i flinched, throwing myself back a few feet. my hands were shaking. i quickly gathered my things, never turning my back from the monstrous boy standing before me. his chest heaved with anger. he glared.

for the first time in a long time, i was scared of theo.

so, i ran.

baby, like we stood a chance; two paper airplanes flying. and i remember thinking…

“are you awake?”

scott knocked upon my bedroom door.

i rolled over in my bed, away from the sound of his voice, away from his incessant worry.

i knew he could hear my heartbeat. i knew he could smell my pheromones.

i ignored him. he had his answers. i wanted to be left alone.

scott sighed. “please talk to me.”

i didn’t want to.

“well,” he tried to sound cheery, but it failed, “i’ll be out here when you’re ready.”

weeks had passed.

silence had followed.

scott was always wondering why i didn’t go to study group with gina. mom worried why i didn’t want to eat my favorite dinner on thursday nights. stiles was confused when i would voluntarily tag along on patrols with him and scott. when we’d pass theo’s house, i’d press my headphones into my ears and drown the two teenage boys out.

lydia drug me to the mall the following week. scott had told everyone he was worried i was depressed. but he didn’t know why.

i knew why.

i didn’t text theo. and he didn’t try to reach me.

i let the necklace pool in my makeup drawer. my fingers ghosted over it every morning, and i’d flinch as though it burned me. it just made me brain flicker with unwanted memories.

i had nightmares about him.

he’d come into my room and tear me apart.

he’d kill scott right in front of me.

he’d rip my mom’s throat out during dinner.

i dreamed of him, too.

of his arms, the contradictory peace i felt from his fingers. i knew, deep down inside, that his threatening demeanor wasn’t real. it was a projection of his innermost insecurities, his frustration because he could only ever have parts of me.

but i was still terrified. it took me back to a time in my life when theo really was the villain. back to the night when the dread doctors nearly killed me. it reminded me of things i’d worked hard to get over.

it felt like last year, only this time, my heart was broken, too.

i don’t know why i thought it would work. bad people never changed. they’d maybe give you a hurricane eye, false hope that things would be clearing up, the storm would pass. and, then, their true, dark colors would appear like the rain. thundering down on you.

i thought back to months ago, when i first let him in. i’d run into him at the grocery store, like lydia. he was buying tuna fish and a potted plant. he had a certain soil type in his cart. i didn’t recognize him at first, mostly because i’d blocked his face from my memory, and his hair had grown out. he was hiding beneath his hoodie, too.

are we out of the woods yet? are we in the clear yet? good.

“that soils gonna kill that plant.”

i peered over at the stranger’s cart, my own basket swinging from my arm.

“oh!” he looked up from the cereal box in his hands, surprised by my voice.

his brows furrowed, friendly smile faltering slightly. “oh. uh…” he wasn’t quite sure what to say.

i chuckled shortly, “sorry to startle you? i just…don’t want to watch this poor guy be carted off to his death.”

theo looked at the plant as i pointed to it. he set the cereal down in his car, shook his head once, and met my eyes again, “oh. that’s okay. um…would you mind telling me what soil i need?”

“yeah, of course. cmon.”

i marched us off to the plant aisle. as we walked across the entire supermarket, i told him all about my plant collection at home. i shared personal details of my life, remarked as he brought up his own stories.

then, i found the small bag easily, and dumped it into his cart, shoveling the other one back onto the shelf.

he thanked me with this sweet grin. “wow, uh, thank you, so much. any other tips?”

his smile twisted into a smirk, something friendly, nothing too extreme. but, it’s what clicked my memories together. i recognized him then.

i frowned and took a slow step back, “um. sorry…”

i quickly turned on my heel and raced away from the aisle. theo was hot on my heels. he chased me with his cart, stumbling over apologies that i was sure didn’t mean anything. “wait- no! y/n! i’m sorry! please! please let me-! i’m so sorry!”

i tried to pull my phone from my pocket to call scott, but it clattered to the floor. i skidded to a stop, dropping to my knees to grab it. the basket in my arm tipped and everything sprawled across the floor.

i reached for my phone and cursed at the mess. his hand came down over mine. he shot his grip back, apologizing. “i didn’t mea-“

“leave me alone.”

i don’t know how he convinced me to go to dinner with him.

remember when you hit the brakes too soon? 20 stitches in the hospital room. when you started crying, baby, i did, too. but, when the sun came up i was looking at you.

“i think we should talk.”

i glanced over at lydia, thumbs pressing into my thighs anxiously. i sucked in a breath, cold air drowning in my lungs. the wipers rubbed over the window wildly, rain pouring down outside. the radio played softly.

i watched a raindrop race down the window, then glanced over at lydia. “about what?”

she met my eye for a second. she looked like she knew something i didn’t want her to. i gulped.

“you know i…” she trailed off. she licked her teeth in an attempt to find her words, carefully. “i can see things, y/n.”

i sucked in another breath. i couldn’t get enough. i should’ve known this would happen. lydia didn’t just get premonitions of death. if she was connected to somebody enough, like me, she could see flashes of secrets.

“yeah…” i whispered.

“i don’t…” lydia struggled to speak, “i don’t know what to say, necessarily. i only know bits and pieces. like…christmas. he- he wanted to hurt you. but, then- at the grocery store. he was gonna bake you a cake. wha- please tell me what happened, y/n.”

i explained the situation with a shaky voice, fingers rubbing one another in a ruminating anxiety. lydia just listened intently. i was worried she was going to turn the car around, drive us back home to tell scott. i’d get holed up in my room while the pack went on a man and wolf hunt.

but, when i was finished, lydia just stared off at the road.

“well?” i pressed.

she glanced at me, again, “wow. i don’t…i don’t know what to say. i just…i’ve loved some bad people, y/n. one of them- died. the other moved to london, but…but they did change. i changed them, i’d like to think. they became good people. but, i think that’s because they were good people, in their core. they were just scared…i know you probably know theo better than i do, but…i don’t know. he killed his sister. if he were a real wolf, his eyes would be blue, y/n. he came to this town to kill your brother. to take our pack. and he nearly killed you. so many of our classmates’ lives ended because of theo. i just- he’s…”

as she spoke, images flashed through my mind.

two months ago, theo and i had drove three hours outside of town to go to the movie theater. as we walked inside, we saw a little girl sitting upon the curb. she was leaned over, sobbing into her hands. i didn’t know what to do. i was never really good with kids.

theo dropped my hand, ignoring the end of our conversation. he marched over to her, squatted down to speak to her. i couldn’t quite hear what he said, but she looked up at him with these huge, sad eyes. tears stained her face.

theo stood. he offered her his hand. she took it gladly.

he talked to her, quietly, as they walked inside. i followed closely. we stood with the movie theater attendants while they found the girl’s mom.

later, theo showed me a photo of his sister that he kept tucked within a book in his bedroom. it was the only thing he had left of her. that, and the awful memory of what he’d done to her.

she looked to be the age of that little girl, the one who squeezed theo like an old friend before running off to her mommy. she kissed his cheek. she thanked him.

“every night, i have nightmares about…”

i remember holding him through these terrifying dreams…

“about what i did to her. i regret it- i regret it, y/n. if i could give my life to get her back i- i would do it in a heartbeat. i…i’m so sorry of who i am. of where i’ve been and what i’ve done. i’m sorry. i’m so fucking sorry. i wish..i wish we could start over. i wish i could meet you in another lifetime, one where none of this ever happened.”

i held his face in my hands, gently, “theo…it’s okay. we all…we’ve all done things that we wish we could take back. we can only deal with the consequences, and make the best of it. i love you- i love you so much. i forgive you.”

remember when we couldn’t take the heat? i walked out. i said, ‘i’m setting you free.’ but the monsters turned out to be just trees. when the sun came up- you were looking at me.

“theo is…”

lydia didn’t quite finish her sentence, but my i did with my own sad realizations. “scared. he’s scared. he’s…he’s been fighting his whole life. he was just a…just a boy when the dread doctors found him. they manipulated him and- and, god. i-i was helping him and then…god, i’m so mean. i let your guys’ threats against theo ruin my own beliefs. and i let it ruin us…lydia- i-“

“i’m sorry,” she said. it was sincere. “i didn’t…i didn’t know. i’m so sorry, y/n. don’t blame yourself for how it ended. you…you had every right to say what you did. it was his choice as to how he reacted to it. and he pushed you away.“

“but, but- i could have stayed. i could have helped him. we could have worked it out- i need to go see him. lydia, please- take me home-“

lydia screamed.

my eardrums burst.

blood dripped down my jaw, staining the collar of my jean jacket. the tired squealed against the slick pavement. the car went over the side of the road, flying through an empty field, and crashing down on it’s head. broken glass scraped across my face. the seatbelt nearly choked me as our bodies twisted upside down with the car.

i was awake for a mere moments after the car stilled. the radio continued to play soft, haunting melodies. the rain pattered, splashing my face.

the only thing i could picture was theo’s face.

it was almost as if he was right there before me.

when i woke, i was in a hospital bed. i couldn’t quite open my eyes. my head was pounding and the florescent lighting stung my vision. the cuts in my skin thumped with my heartbeat. the iv in my arm felt thick, heavy, cold fluids running in my veins.

above the annoying beeping of the machines attached to my body were two voices. angry voices. arguing voices.

theo and scott.

“no, i don’t think you understand, theo! get out! i don’t want you anywhere near my sister! you- i don’t trust you! this probably happened because of you!”

my eyes shot open.

theo stepped back as scott yelled in his face. his tone was more calm than my brother’s, hands raised defensively, yet in a surrendering offer with his palms facing the ceiling. “scott, please, just-“

“no! get out! leave! before i make you!” scott’s hands were shaking with anger. he seethed, chest rising up and down wildly.

i tried to move, but my body paralyzed. words wouldn’t come, either, because a breathing mask was over my mouth.

“scott-!” theo tried, once more.

scott growled, eyes turning red, ears pointing up towards the moon in the window. he was completely transformed. i knew how dangerous that was. i knew how angry he was.

my eyes shot towards the doorway as mom quickly entered. she stopped before scott, placing her hands on his shoulders gently, “scott…honey, cmon, you’ve gotta breathe, okay? i’ve got a hospital full of patients and the last thing i need is to have the night janitor clean up after two werewolves.”

“then tell him to leave!” scott pointed a claw at theo.

mom looked towards the boy, brows furrowing in anger. she composed herself better. “theo…” mom spoke warily, “you need to leave. now.”

“no, you don’t understand! i didn’t do this! i-i brought her here! if i wanted to kill her, why would i bring her here!”

“to save your ass!” scott roared.

i examined theo’s face as it tilted towards the light. tears shone on his cheeks. mom pushed scott back an inch, “no, scott! hey, honey, cmon! he’s- he’s telling the truth. he brought her here- he didn’t try to kill her, scott!”

“then what did?”

“a deer,” mom spoke blankly. she pursed her lips. the confession was awkward, humanized compared to what we were all used to.

scott straightened his posture, transforming back into a human. his breathing evened out. “oh. i’m….”

theo sighed, ran a hand over his face. “look…i know you hate me. and you have every right to. but…i just…i’m not leaving. i’m staying.”

he took a step towards my bed. scott moved in front of him, blocking me. “stay away from her.”

“scott,” mom examined theo’s face as he met my eyes. he breathed out a sigh of relief and quickly grabbed my hand.

theo dropped to the chair beside my bed, clutching my fingers in his. he pressed his forehead to my touch, mumbling gratitude beneath his breath.

“i thought i lost you,” theo whispered.

mom and scott watched. mom crossed her arms over her chest, a wondrously pleased expression in her eyes. she glanced at scott. he gasped at our interaction.

i blinked away a tear. theo kissed the back of my hand. “i really thought i lost you. god- i’m…i’m never letting you leave me again. i’m sorry. i’m so fucking sorry for scaring you. i promise, i promise it’ll never happen again. i’m never gonna let go of you, i’m never gonna push you away again, okay? i love you.”

i nodded gently, unable to do much else. my fingers wriggled in his hands. he squeezed mine.

scott stepped forward, “theo…”

theo met scott’s eyes. he huffed, “please. please just five minutes. i’ll leave if you want me to, but…please, scott just give me five minutes, okay? you can chase me out of beacon hills, to the ends of the earth, but please let me have five minutes with my girl.”

scott went to say something else, but mom grabbed his bicep. “five minutes.”

she began leading then to the hall, scott following begrudgingly. she looked over her shoulder to tell theo, “five minutes and then we have a lot to talk about, okay? starting with you’re gonna start going to therapy and i have a 24 pack of condoms in my office.”

my face turned beat red.

theo laughed, a relieved, gentle sound i had missed for far too long. he met my eyes again.

“i love you.”

you were looking at me. i remember. are we out of the woods yet? are we in the clear yet? good.

[realityescapee01]

That Night

Steo | Stiles x Theo

Getting over the past and some differences, Stiles and Theo decided "to hell with it". Threw caution to the wind. Ignored the judgement of others...

And finally got together.

But Stiles' traits started rubbing off on Theo.

And it drove Theo to not wanna see Stiles for the night.

Stiles jogged down the stairs, loosening his black tie with one hand and fishing out his jeep's keys with his other hand.

He's excited.

To see Theo.

Stiles let out a little laugh.

Him. Excited. To see Theo.

He never thought that day would come. Given Theo's history with the pack. But truth be told, Stiles is attracted to Theo. That was part of him suspecting Theo thing. Suspecting and being attracted to the same person is what Stiles was going through all those months with their chimera problem.

And more things happened, ghost riders, and Theo redemption arc. Scott was very forgiving and took Theo into the pack. The other pack members aren't 100% okay with it.

But Stiles, Stiles threw all inhibitions out and away and because he had lost Theo once. Getting dragged underground. Stiles was miserable.

An now that Theo is back, and still wants him, Stiles just grabbed it. Took what he wanted. For himself. For once. After everything he went through with the supernatural shenanigans.

So, it's been a few months since they got together. Every weekends he'd drive back to Beacon Hills to stay over at Theo's the whole weekend.

Spend the whole weekend with Theo doing... everything he fantasized about.

And he is excited for the thing they're gonna try for tonight.

Stiles sent Theo a message. Telling him how excited he is. The curly fries he missed so much. And the thing they're gonna do before sleeping.

Theo replies a few minutes after. Shooting Stiles down.

-I'm sorry, Stiles, I have something to do tonight. I'm staying out late.-

Stiles stopped the jeep at the side of the road. He read the chat over and over.

"Oh god. Did I-Did Theo finally..." -Stiles was saddened. Stiles was scared.

He was scared that Theo might want him and then when he got him, he'd see how annoying he is and get tired of him.

And this might be it. Stiles admits he was a little too clingy to Theo. But who wouldn't? Have you seen Theo? Especially when he's naked? Who wouldn't get all clingy?

Stiles messaged Theo again.

-Okay. What's happening?-

Theo replied right after.

-I'll meet you tomorrow. I need to do something tonight.-

Stiles hand shook. Do something? Tonight? With who?!? Is Theo seeing someone else?

-Okay. Well, I'm driving straight home then.-

Stiles cursed and thought maybe he shouldn't have been too clingy and pathetic and annoying. Well, at least Theo would tell him in person. So he started driving again.

Stiles didn't even look how fast he was going, he just gotta see Theo and know what the fuck is happening.

He stopped just right in front Theo's house. Jumped off the jeep and ran to the front door.

"Hey, Stiles-" -Theo got tackled back into the house. Holding Stiles just enough to not get them falling to the floor.

"I'm sorry, Theo. Tell me, what is it? Too annoying? Too clingy? Too much Star Wars talk? Who are you seeing tonight?"

"W-What?"

"You're breaking up with me."

"What?!? No! Stiles, why do you think that?"

"You don't want to see me tonight. Don't want me to stay over."

"Yeah, I said that. But not because I'm breaking up with you- which I'm never gonna do. You're stuck with me. Forever."

"Then what are you gonna do tonight?"

Theo smirked and looked away. "You're rubbing off on me. Being dramatic and sentimental."

"What?" -Stiles couldn't understand.

"Tonight... is senior scribe, Stiles."

Theo was still finishing his senior year, being held back and all.

"...Oh." -Stiles remembered.

Remembered how important it was to him. And his friends.

"But Theo, you don't have friends." -Stiles said matter-of-factly.

"Ouch!" -Theo feigned heartache. "I do. Sort of. Some useful, some not. Anyways. I want to attend."

"Because?" -Stiles still wasn't getting it.

"Because I want to write my initials next to yours."

"...Oh." -Stiles started getting teary eyed.

Theo noticed and pulled Stiles into a hug. "This is why I didn't wanna tell you, my melodramatic snow white."

"Theo... are you gonna put a heart on it?"

Theo let out a chuckle. "Do you want me to?"

"Yes." -Stiles said instantly and nodding furiously.

"Okay."

"Take a photo of it." -Stiles broke off from the hug and took Theo's hand. "Come on! I'll drive you to the school!"

Theo kept laughing on their way to Stiles' jeep. And to the school. Stiles looks around started to reminisce his highschool days.

Theo went in and lined up with the others. He looked for the shelf where Stiles wrote on that night.

And when he found it, he started to write his initials with it.

With a heart. Of course. As requested.

Stiles waited for Theo right outside the doors. He was holding his hand out. Waiting for Theo to hand him something over.

Theo smirked and handed him his phone. Stiles got to it and in a few minutes, cleaned it up and gave it back to Theo - now with a new lock screen. He did the same to his own phone.

Stiles smiled widely at Theo. Giddy and bubbly.

"So, you had to put yours on top, huh?" -Stiles looked at it lovingly.

Theo walked closer to him, too close, that his body warmth radiated towards Stiles.

And then he whispered, in a low, sultry voice: "I'm always top, Stiles. And you love it."

-+-+-+ ( complete ) +-+-+-

a/n: Just realized Theo never had the senior scribe, so I gave him one. 😁

thank you. more on my master list here

I also have an AO3 account

my art/design shop here (for fanart and other things I do)

Like the gifs used here? See source under them. Reblog, do not repost. Thank you all gif creators here ♥️

[gwendolynnderolo]

teen wolf memes part 28: i have problems

branching out slightly with the ships on this one is everyone proud of me

shout out once again to my bestie @burnthatbridgewhenwecometoit

teen wolf memes part 28

[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.

[heradion]

One of the reasons I think Sterek fans or Thiam fans still continue to like and ship Sterek or Thiam is because of the actors.

Dylan and Tyler Hoechlin have always said they've loved Stiles and Derek's dynamics , they said they would love to explore it more.

Cody and Dylan Sprayberry have also said they've loved Thiam but it was never going to happen.

Khylin teased Thiam and said they have amazing chemistry too.

Hoechlin even suggested a scene to Jeff where Stiles is angry and let's out all his frustration on Derek ( beating him up or whatever) and Derek letting him because he understands.

Hoechlin also talked about trying to add one last sterek moment for the fans during the finale but it was cut by someone ( we know who )

Hell, Holland Roden , the other half of the stydia ship has on multiple occasions stated that she like Sterek.

The only person who cause chaos and gave his unsolicited opinion about Sterek was Posey who called it a bizarre twisted thing ( which Hoechlin later slightly shaded by the way)

While I understand he was frustrated that people were watching the show only for Sterek and not him , the show is for us to watch and enjoy however we want as an audience .

It is fair to get annoyed when fans bombard the writers actors or others about demanding more scenes from 2 character just because they ship them .

We saw how Sterek and Thiam were queerbaited , even though the actors were 100% comfortable.

The actors are comfortable and openly talk about the ships instead of pretending like it doesn't exist or that fans are delusional or twisted for seeing them in a romantic light.

[endyourpartofthestory]

the annual all consuming teen wolf phase is back in full force