#SteoSpooktober

[snaeken]

There's something familiar about this house, and it takes a while for Detective Stilinski to realise he's been here before. It's been derelict for as long as he can remember (when he actually can remember it, that is; the house has a way of slipping from his mind). So why is he suddenly certain a family used to live here, one with a kid he used to play with as a child? How could he forget?

The memory hits him, cold and sharp. He can't be any older than nine or ten, sitting inside his dad's squad car in front of this very house. Something in the way his dad instructed him to stay in the car makes him certain that something is very, very wrong.

His dad eventually stumbles out of the house, ashen-faced. "This is Sheriff Stilinski, immediate backup required. We've got a 187 and possible 505. I repeat, 187 and possible 505."

That's when Stiles starts to cry, silent tears streaming down his face. Murder and possible kidnapping.

"Where are the children?" his dad says, to himself rather than Stiles. "Where are-"

Stiles snaps out of the memory, his heart racing. How could he have forgotten about this? Why can he still not remember their names? His dad is no longer around to ask, but Stiles isn't a child anymore. He's a detective. He'll work out what happened here himself.

Created for @steodiscord's SteoSpooktober 2023 event - Haunted House!

[theoraeken]

For @steodiscord 's Steo Spooktober

Bottled Secrets (3397 words) by FandomSlash, TheoRaekenTumblr Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Teen Wolf (TV) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Theo Raeken/Stiles Stilinski Characters: Stiles Stilinski, Theo Raeken, Sheriff Stilinski (Teen Wolf) Additional Tags: Asthma, Kiss or Die Summary: In the heart of Beacon Hills, Stiles can't shake the feeling that Theo's return hides ulterior motives. Obsessively stalking him for answers, their paths are entwined by both mystery and irresistible attraction. As Stiles edges closer to the truth, he's caught in a web where passion meets deception. Dive in, and uncover what lurks beneath the surface.

[mercheswan]

Black Magic 🔮

Take a sip of my secret potion

I'll make you fall in love (Fall in love)

For a spell that can't be broken (Broken)

One drop should be enough (Ooh)

Boy, you belong to me

I got the recipe and it's called Black Magic

(And it's called Black Magic)

[voidstilesplease]

for @steodiscord's Steospooktober Vol. 4 prompt: vampires

bedazzled

word count: 6k | rating: e | tags: alternate universe - vampire, bite kink, prostitution, light angst with a happy ending, blood and gore, porn with feelings

summary: “When I was watching you feed earlier, I was… fascinated.”

“'Fascinated’,” Theo echoed in loathing.

“Yes,” Stiles insisted, licking his lips. “I wanted to know how it felt.”

“To be sucked dry?” Theo snarled.

But Stiles was persistent, “To be bitten.” To be your source of strength. To give you my share of life.

Lightning quick, Theo grabbed the back of Stiles’ head with his bloody hands and pressed their foreheads together – vehemence gushing through his still starving bloodstream. With their lips merely a hairsbreadth apart, Theo whispered viciously. “You – are fucked in this lovely head of yours.”

“Yes,” Stiles whispered back, nodding eagerly. “I am.”

sequel to enthralled (@msmischief101 & @amatchinwater, I just saw that you left your thoughts on the fic a year ago saying that theo needs to get stiles back - so here it is! I wrote a part 2 that's kinda like that)

Drink to me only with thine eyes, And I will pledge with mine;

Or leave a kiss but in the cup, And I’ll not look for wine.

The thirst that from the soul doth rise Doth ask a drink divine;

But might I of Jove’s nectar sup, I would not change for thine.

***

The tale of how Theo left didn’t start the last night they spent together – with that last bite to the neck, that farewell fuck, that confession that ended with Theo using his thrall to send Stiles away.

It started long before the first bite to his neck, before the first feed, the confrontation that catapulted their arrangement into more than just between a wealthy bachelor and his kept whore.

It started when his secret was exposed, and Stiles didn’t go running in the opposite direction. But it wasn’t Stiles that set the time bomb – no. Theo started plotting his exit the moment his secret tore open a portal to hell – and Stiles offered his hand to walk into it hand in hand with Theo.

***

Stiles was surprised he was allowed into the building at all. After what happened three nights before, he was sure Theo would never want to see his face again. He waited two nights for Theo’s men to come to him and slit his throat in his sleep. But no one came to seek him out and threaten him for his silence. Instead, the closest encounter he’d had with Theo since, was the transfer of a huge sum into Stiles’ bank account. Of course. It was evident he didn’t think it was worth the time or effort to harass Stiles into shutting up or killing him when he could pay him. It was what he did best, after all. He spoke to Stiles in the language they knew most – money.

But unlike Theo, who deemed words unnecessary, Stiles thought words would be helpful, actually. Like, how are fucking vampires real ? How many are they? If vampires are real, what other creatures are real and hiding in plain sight?

Why did Theo defend him from another vampire’s attack when it was easier to let it happen and find a new oblivious fuck toy than upsetting his own kind and dealing with a stubborn whore like Stiles, who would sure ask him all these questions?

Does he have a secret coffin lair somewhere in the building?

The elevator pinged, and Stiles nervously rubbed the bruises around his wrists from the attack three nights before. He exhaled a shallow breath, becoming all too aware of quite a few things at the same time. He hadn’t fully realized before that he’d requested a private audience with Theo – another vampire that could easily put more bruises on his body. None of the likes he usually indulged with Theo in bed.

When the elevator opened, Theo was already waiting for him, swirling a glass of wine in one hand and wearing nothing but his black pants.

Stiles’ first thought upon laying eyes on Theo wasn’t ‘monster’ like one would expect – no, far from it. His first thought, even after what he’d witnessed three nights ago, was ‘gorgeous’.

Theo was gorgeous, even as he pinned Stiles with a gaze that was one second away from lethal. He looked like an angel of death coming to collect Stiles. He swallowed around the lump in his throat as he stepped into the threshold.

He was not further than two steps in when Theo’s voice reverberated around the relatively quiet space.

“Garlic doesn’t hurt me,” Theo started, taking idle steps forward as he spoke. “Crosses? I’ve none to bear at this point of my existence. They don’t do anything but annoy me, and that was even before I turned into the creature of hell I am now. And holy water? That may irritate me, true, but it would cause more harm to you than me. You see, I have snapped someone’s neck for less.”

Stiles was rooted to the ground by sudden fear. He knew there was something about Theo that wasn’t quite human – but he never imagined being correct about it in the most literal sense. Stiles had always thought his eyes were too unnatural. But now, Theo was showing him exactly how haunting they were. Stiles only stood there helplessly as Theo neared and neared, walking barefoot to his victim as he casually sipped wine.

“If you want to do real damage,” Theo said, inflicting a conspiratorial tone. “A stake through my undead heart won’t cut it. Or exposure to the sun, as you already know. Hiding in plain sight made it more a child’s play to us when we developed tolerance against the unforgiving heat of the sunlight.” He chuckled, a predator taunting his prey. “No. If you want to kill me, you would have to sever my head from my body, chop me limb from limb, then burn all of me to ashes.”

When Theo was in front of Stiles, he grinned through protruded fangs and reveled in the sharp hitch of Stiles’ breath. “Then again, that’s only if you could outrun me.”

Despite the threat of his knees buckling and folding, Stiles exhaled a shaky breath, “Who said anything about running?”

It was evident that Theo wasn’t expecting any rebuttal. His grin slowly receded, and Stiles took that as an opportunity to barge on.

“If anyone’s running, it’s you,” Stiles struggled against all instincts to keep quiet. Because he couldn’t let it go. He couldn’t let Theo decide that it was through between them without putting up a fight. “We agreed to pay me for companionship, for sex, right? So what was that payment you made?”

Theo’s smile was gone now, replaced by a sneer. “I thought that was obvious.”

Stiles shook his head, “You really think I’d go around telling people that you’re a vampire and expect anyone to believe me?” he pointed out. “So you’re a vampire. You could still fuck me, then pay me, can’t you? It’s not like I wasn’t scared before. At least, now it makes sense.”

“You think this changes nothing, do you?” Theo’s voice rasped against his throat – a telltale sign that his anger was brewing inside.

“Because nothing has to,”

All in one second, Theo’s eyes blazed, and Stiles gasped in shock as Theo’s free hand suddenly wrapped its way around his thin, breakable neck, closing against his airway. “Do you think this is a game?” Theo snarled. “Do you find it pleasing to be at the mercy of a killer?”

Stiles was gripped by fear for his life and sick excitement, too. He held onto the strong arm lifting his feet from the ground, feeling how powerful it was under his hand. Wheezing, he managed to open his mouth to say, “Exhilarating… actually,” Theo’s grasp tightened, digging his fingers into fragile skin, but Stiles blundered on. “I’ve been at the mercy of a killer all this time, and yet –“ Stiles choked in a breath. “And yet, I’ve never been more alive… than when you bend me over and own me.”

Stiles’ words had the desired effect because Theo’s grip loosened instantaneously until he eventually tossed Stiles to the floor, turning his back with a snarl. Theo paced and smashed his empty glass to the floor as Stiles coughed and wheezed, rubbing at his neck where he was sure Theo’s handprint was forming.

He’d always been too easy to bruise. It was part of his charm, according to Theo.

Theo spun around a moment later, glaring down at Stiles’ sprawled form on his plush white carpet.

He pointed an accusing finger at him, “You – are mad. A deviant. You doomed yourself – and me.”

“And you want to fuck me,” Stiles gritted out. “So, do it. You were a vampire before I knew you were. What difference does it make now?”

In a blink, Stiles found himself pinned to the floor by the weight of a furious Theo, stealing his breath again but for an entirely different reason. His heart was a thundering mess, pressed against Theo’s cold, bare skin. And Theo’s fangs were right there – right above Stiles’ skin. He could draw blood anytime.

“The difference,” Theo grumbled from deep in his throat, “is that now that you know a monster is in bed with you, nothing is stopping that monster from showing who’s really fucking you.”

One day, Stiles thought. You would be the death of me.

“Show me.”

I'll not have it any other way.

***

Theo was cruel. Not in the way that a monster was cruel. He was cruel in the way a human was cruel.

Humans became cruel as a response to fear. But what did Theo fear when he was the killer in their pair? Nonetheless, he had fears, though unspoken. And because of those fears, he reeled Stiles in – keep your friends close, your enemies closer – because the higher he raised Stiles, the more fatal it would be when he dropped him.

***

As much as Stiles insisted that nothing changed, it would soon be apparent that he was wrong. For a while, they blissfully existed in make-believe before the inevitable next crack in the glass. To Stiles, it didn’t seem like another nail to their coffin. But to Theo, it was another signal for him to escape.

It happened after Theo came home from a business trip – only it wasn’t the usual trips where he secured million-dollar accounts and came home richer than he was when he left.

Stiles was asleep when his phone rang. He kept it on all the time in case Theo contacted him – which he rarely ever did. If Theo wanted him, he would ask Josh to send Stiles a message. He only ever sent Stiles one direct message: You could have spared us the agony and run. He sent it after the first night they fucked as the vampire and his whore. Stiles had replied: Against my better judgment, I couldn’t. There was no more since.

But his decision to keep the notifications on had proven wise, tonight of all nights, because when he opened the message, it was, indeed, from Theo. The second direct message he ever sent Stiles. He shot up quickly from his bed and hastened to read.

It said: I need you.

He never needed Stiles before – he ‘wanted’ him. Josh’s texts would read: Mr. Raeken wants you to come over, Mr. Raeken wants me to collect you in an hour, Mr. Raeken wants you to wear the blue cardigan he bought you last week, Mr. Raeken wants to know if you’re allergic to any shellfish... Want, want, want. Because he was a paid bed-warmer. Need was… intimate. It was something more. But straight from Theo, he needed him.

So Stiles scrambled to put on clothes, pressing number 7 on his speed dial: Josh, Theo’s valet. It barely rang before the call connected.

“What happened?” Stiles asked in a rush, grabbing his jacket and keys and sprinting out of his apartment.

“We’ll be there in five minutes,” was Josh’s terse reply before disconnecting.

Exactly five minutes later, Theo’s Chevrolet Suburban pulled up in the parking lot of Stiles’ building. He wasn’t used to seeing that car since Theo rarely used it to pick up Stiles. He didn’t recognize it at first, so he palmed the Swiss knife that Theo gave him and made him keep it in his pocket at all times for self-defense. But it was Corey in the driver’s seat – Theo’s driver. Josh opened the door and ushered Stiles in, looking bedraggled. No sooner than Stiles could sit down, the car speeded into the night back to the penthouse.

“What happened?” Stiles addressed the question to both Josh and Corey, as soon as he could get a breath out.

Josh opened his mouth, but Stiles’ phone started ringing before he could say anything. He looked down, widening his eyes when he saw that it was Theo. Theo never rang. He immediately picked it up and answered, “Theo? Are you all right?”

There was a few seconds of inarticulate heavy breathing from Theo’s end which only spiked Stiles’ worry, before he rasped out with clear difficulty, “Are you with –” a groan falling from his mouth interrupted his question. Jesus, what was going on? “Are you in the car now?”

Stiles hurried to assure him, “Yes, yes, I’m with Josh and Corey. What’s happening?”

“Donovan is behind you –” Theo coughed, cutting off his statement again. Stiles’ fingers nervously combed through his hair. Theo never got sick – one of the perks of being a bloodsucking immortal. Something was seriously wrong. After his coughing fit, he managed to finish with a strain, “– should you require him.”

Stiles glanced behind him, and sure enough, Theo’s white Cadillac – the usual one he rode and drove around – was tailing them closely. Donovan was Theo’s chief security – a vampire like himself.

“Are you in danger?” Stiles tried again, feeling his panic rise evermore.

“No,” Theo answered promptly. “But I need you.”

He couldn’t understand why his eyes started stinging from hearing it straight from Theo’s mouth. Probably from all the mixed emotions he was feeling: fear, confusion, the mother of all worries… he just wanted to get to Theo as soon as possible.

“I’m coming.” He promised.

He wiped the side of his eyes when the call ended. When he looked up, Josh was looking at him calculatingly.

Sniffing, Stiles pleaded. “Tell me he’s all right.”

Josh visibly considered lying, but he eventually confessed, “He’s in a bad shape,”

Stiles exhaled the breath he didn’t know he’d been holding.

“I had to pay a ridiculous amount to the blood bank to give me all the fresh supply of blood they had,” Josh informed him. “He’s been starved.”

Stiles’ head snapped up in shock. “He was gone for two weeks,” he couldn’t believe his ears. “Who would do this to him?”

“One guess who,”

“Josh,” Corey spoke from the driver’s seat, warning in his tone. “Don’t.”

Josh scoffed, “He ought to know. He’s the reason.”

Corey shook his head in disapproval but otherwise didn’t say anything further. He looked away when his eyes met Stiles in the rearview.

“I’m the reason for what?” Stiles prompted impatiently.

Josh looked at him, resentment palpable in his eyes. “He made an impressive number of enemies when he attacked his own to save you – his human whore.”

His breath caught in his throat. Stiles couldn’t even find it in himself to be furious by the insult. All his mind could think about was how he knew that vampire was going to come back to bite their asses.

I need you.

He needed to get to Theo as soon as possible. Stiles needed him too.

His heart leapt to his throat, ready to burst by the time the elevator to the penthouse opened. The sight immediately horrified Stiles – it was like a scene straight from a nightmare. His stomach churned at the stench, and bile threatened to rise out of his mouth.

Stepping inside, he followed the trail of thick blood on the ruined carpet leading up to the corpses of about a dozen rats scattered in different places as if mindlessly thrown. Not farther away, he spotted Theo leaning against his discolored leather tufted sofa. His mouth and face were smeared with blood; his shirt and pants thrown to the devil knows where, and his head hanging forward while his eyes fought to keep open. His skin was deathly pale – paler than Stiles ever saw it.

He crossed the room in under five seconds, kneeling in front of Theo and taking his face delicately in one hand, unmindful of the dead rats in their midst. He reached inside the backpack full of blood bags that Josh tossed to him as soon as they parked. He wasn’t allowed into the penthouse, and none of them were – not unless Theo specifically instructed them to come. So it was up to Stiles to deliver the blood to Theo.

He guided the first bag to Theo’s mouth, who immediately sniffed and grabbed it from Stiles’ hand. For the first time, Stiles saw him feed – saw how those fangs pierced through plastic and how Theo’s lips sucked all of the blood’s content in no time. Stiles raptly watched how Theo’s throat bobbed as he swallowed, and how his eyes closed in ecstasy. When he was done, he crumpled the plastic, threw it aside, and seized another bag of blood to do the hypnotic cycle all over again.

When he was through the second bag, he breathed in deeply and finally opened his eyes.

God was Theo messy; everything was messy. But Stiles had never seen Theo as beautiful as he did now – in his rawest form.

His hand dropped the empty plastic bag, slumping back against the sofa. “Sorry you had to see that,” Theo’s coarse voice said.

Stiles shook his head, sagging forward with a loud exhale as his adrenaline started melting away. Suddenly, the stinging in his eyes was back. “Theo…”

“Don’t say it,” Theo asserted. Stiles raised his head, looking at him through misty eyes. Through a bloody mouth, Theo swore. “There was no way I was going to let him hurt you. I knew this was going to happen eventually.”

Stiles sniffed, “And if it happened again?”

“It won’t,” Theo assured him. Groaning, he leaned forward towards Stiles to meet him eye to eye, taking his chin in his blood-stained hand. “Viggo’s family should be opening the gift I sent to them now,” one corner of his mouth pulled up in a malicious smile. “His head sprinkled with his body’s ashes inside a velvet black box wrapped in velvet red ribbon.”

Stiles gasped in horror, backing away, “You killed him?”

“I sent a statement,” Theo corrected. “Not to challenge me again. Or touch what was mine.”

He couldn’t believe what he was hearing – didn’t Theo make it worse? And for what? Stiles was not even his lover – he was his whore. Josh was right to be livid at him.

Stiles was silent for a while, lost in the sea of so many thoughts. He snapped back to the present when he felt Theo’s hand reaching for the backpack again. Stiles hurried to help him. “Are you still hungry?”

Theo grimaced as he looked at the mess he made, especially when his sight landed on the rats. “I had to make do – after all, blood was blood. It soothed the pain no matter where it came from. Luckily, I was too out of it to remember how ghastly the experience was.” He licked his lips, shuddering. “I haven’t had rats since the early days after my turn.”

Stiles avoided looking at the drained rat corpses to control the bile still threatening to rise from his stomach. “Do you think you have enough to get you back in shape?”

Theo scanned the inside of the backpack, making a noise of approval, “Josh did an excellent job – all of these are fresh bags. That would help. The fresher it is, the quicker it gets me there.”

A horrible idea formed in Stiles’ head at the statement. A horrible idea because no one would agree with him – not even Theo. But his mind was dead set – he was going to try everything to achieve it. He touched Theo’s hand and forced him to look at him. When he had Theo’s attention, he said, “So why don’t you feed from a human – directly?”

Theo leaned back in surprise, his voice gaining a hard edge when he asked, “What did you say?”

“Feed from a human,” he repeated, earning a growl from Theo. “Why settle with blood bags when you could drink straight from someone’s veins? You said you used to feed from your sister when she was alive, and she was all right the entire time, wasn’t she?”

Theo was angry now. He likely knew where this conversation was going. “I shouldn’t have told you that,” his teeth gnashed. “Besides, she was my sister. She wanted to help me adjust to the life I was thrust into against my will. Who do you think would be sane enough to consent to become a vampire’s personal blood tap and chew toy?”

“I would,” Stiles replied without hesitation.

Theo’s growl deepened, his chest vibrating with the sound. “That is because you are not sane. If you were, you would have been long gone.”

“No, listen,” Stiles moved to straddle Theo’s hips when he attempted to leave. Theo hissed and bared his fangs but otherwise stayed on the bloody floor, flashing his eyes in warning not to say anything stupid further. But Stiles was not to be deterred. “I would do it – for a price,” he added the last thought hastily.

It didn’t calm Theo. “If you wanted a raise, you could have just said.”

“No,” he released a frustrated sigh. “When I was watching you feed earlier, I was… fascinated.”

“'Fascinated’,” Theo echoed in loathing.

“Yes,” Stiles insisted, licking his lips. “I wanted to know how it felt.”

“To be sucked dry?” Theo snarled.

But Stiles was persistent, “To be bitten.” To be your source of strength. To give you my share of life.

Lightning quick, Theo grabbed the back of Stiles’ head with his bloody hands and pressed their foreheads together – vehemence gushing through his still starving bloodstreams. With their lips merely a hairsbreadth apart, Theo whispered viciously. “You – are fucked in this lovely head of yours.”

“Yes,” Stiles whispered back, nodding eagerly. “I am.” Then he grabbed Theo’s face with both hands and crushed their lips in a searing kiss.

It should be revolting, the way he could taste the rust from Theo’s lips on his own tongue. It should be repulsing, the way Theo stood and carried him like he weighed nothing to press him onto the stained couch, the dead rats littering the floor around them. It should be sickening how the stench of death perfumed their writhing bodies, seeking a desire that walked hand in hand with their doom.

Stiles opened his legs when Theo nudged them apart, bared his neck for Theo’s kisses, and offered his wrist when Theo licked against the skin.

Theo looked at him again, his blue eyes lust-blown and hungry, and Stiles nodded. Enthusiastically. Desperately. He carded the fingers of his free hand through Theo’s matted hair and pulled Theo’s head down. Kissing the shell of Theo’s ear, he whispered, “Please, Theo.”

And as Theo’s fangs penetrated the skin of his wrist, he ground his hips forward, too. Stiles threw his head back with a moan, closing his eyes to the pain and pleasure. As he felt his blood rushing to give Theo what he needed, he thought, now you’re mine as I am yours.

***

It quickly became the new arrangement: Stiles let Theo sink his teeth into his skin and fuck the senses out of him, and Theo paid him a much bigger sum than the last. It was only a matter of time before his friends found out. It didn’t go well – predictably.

Lydia was the first to notice – as she was wont to do. She cornered him and demanded answers to all of the right questions. She’d clearly done a thorough research, which didn’t surprise Stiles the least. If anything, it astonished Stiles that it took her nine whole months to get suspicious.

“I was suspicious seven months ago Stiles,” Lydia spat furiously. “What I am today, is appalled.” She paced, holding her head with both her hands. “Consorting with the likes of that guy – he’s not even human, for Christ’s sake. Why couldn’t you just go with a mafia guy?” She paused in her pacing and marched to him, grabbing his arm and shaking her head in repugnance at the telltale puncture wounds. Her eyes flashed, “And what if he goes too far?”

“He won’t,” Stiles assured her.

“You don’t know that.”

“I don’t,” Stiles agreed, pulling his arm back and covering it with the sleeve of his hoodie. He sighed. “But I trust him.”

Lydia scoffed, shaking her head at Stiles. Her eyes had a knowing glint when she asked, “How long ago since you sold your body and not your heart?”

Stiles was taken aback for a moment. He'd never thought about it. But instead of denying it, he replied, “Fuck knows."

It was the most honest reply he could make.

***

After Lydia found out, the entire gang followed. Needless to say, it was a madhouse.

“Why couldn’t you just ask for help, Stiles?” Scott shook his head, upset. People were shaking their heads at Stiles a lot these days. “If you needed money, we would have helped you.”

“I didn’t want to burden you. We all have our own situations,” Stiles tried to explain. “I wanted to earn the money by myself.”

“By becoming a prostitute?” Jackson jeered. “How fucking noble, Stilinski.”

Stiles fisted his hands, “How I earn my money is none of your business. If you think I’m so dirty now to be your friend, then fuck right off.”

Jackson went straight for the door, “As you wish.” Scott followed seconds later.

Scott and Jackson didn’t talk to him for days. Scott eventually caved first but he spent the next few days begging Stiles to leave Theo – leave the country if need be. Allison – whose family moved around the supernatural circle, Stiles soon discovered – offered to help ‘eliminate’ Theo.

“It would be difficult,” Allison said determinedly, holding Stiles’ shoulder with a gloved hand. “Our family hasn’t encountered vampires in decades when I searched the archive. But it’s definitely doable.”

Stiles smiled timidly and took Allison’s hand into his. He met her eyes and said sincerely, “I appreciate it, Allison, offering me help and telling me about your secret. But…” Stiles bit his lip, squeezing Allison’s gloved hand. “I’d sooner cut my own wrist before I let anything happen to him.”

Allison’s brows furrowed in surprise. It wasn’t the response she expected to hear. “If it’s about the money, Stiles, I’m sure there are other ways to earn it,” she insisted. “I’m not sure you understand that it’s quite literally your neck in the line every time you come near this monster.”

“Theo's not a monster,”

“He’s got fangs that he uses to drink blood from you, take advantage of your weakness. What’s not monstrous about him?”

“You’ve got weapons and an archive that details how to ‘eliminate’ a vampire who was turned without a choice – who has tried and succeeded to live normally for the past fifty years without hurting anyone,” Stiles retaliated. “What’s not monstrous about you?”

Allison dropped Stiles’ hand, clenching her jaw. “If he drains your blood, don’t tell us we didn’t warn you.”

Stiles nodded, “If he drains my blood, it’ll be because I asked him.”

Allison left in frustration while Lydia blamed the vampire thrall.

“It’s his eyes,” Lydia said as soon as Stiles opened the door to his apartment, a couple of days after the Allison encounter. “He’s controlling you with his eyes.” She invited herself in and looked around. Her eyes narrowed, pointing at the coffee table, “Is that a Mies van der Rohe?”

Stiles shrugged and looked at her blankly. He had no idea what she just said. Theo bought him the coffee table.

Crossing her arms, she clicked her tongue. “Vampires' eyes have powers – it’s called thrall. He’s using them to keep you coming back.”

“I don’t know,” Stiles said, leaning against the archway. “I close my eyes when he fucks me, and there’s no broken spell, is there?”

Lydia's mouth thinned to a line.

“I’m not looking at his eyes now,” Stiles added. “But I still terribly miss him, don’t I?”

She rolled her eyes, “That’s not how it works. You don’t just close your eyes during sex or not see him for two days for the control to slip up. You have to stay away – for real.”

Stiles smiled at her regretfully, “I guess if I were really in thrall, I’m too weak to resist it. I don’t know the first thing about staying away from him.”

Only Kira didn’t blame Theo or the money he gave Stiles. Stiles was not sure if it was better.

“You’re not in danger, I don’t think,” Kira said, stroking his hair as they lay on Stiles’ couch. Stiles had just told her about Allison and Lydia’s visits. “You’re the danger.”

“What do you mean?”

Kira placed her free hand over Stiles’ chest. “Your heart – it’s an unbelievable thing. Any weaker heart would go running in the opposite direction as soon as it discovered what you discovered. Predators drive their prey away half-scared to death – that’s how nature works.”

Stiles tilted his head to look at Kira. Playfully, he asked, “Are you calling me prey?”

Kira smiled, “If you were the prey, we wouldn’t be having this conversation, would we?”

Stiles’ smile retreated. Even then, he realized she was right.

***

Only a week after his conversation with Kira, Stiles put the final nail in their coffin.

Stiles tilted his head backward with an echoing moan, laying it against Theo’s shoulder to allow him more access to his neck. His arms reached out behind to encircle Theo’s head, long fingers grabbing at Theo’s wet hair as he continued charting little islands of bruises into his pale skin while his hips continued their brutally slow and hard pace.

The warm spray of water against his overheated skin and the cold touch of Theo’s hand, mouth, and naked body against naked body made Stiles delirious. He felt Theo’s blunt teeth scraping against his skin, his lips sucking hard, and then his tongue soothing the assaulted area. Theo’s hands ran all over his slick body, squeezing, massaging, and imprinting into his skin, his soul – deeper than his bare cock inside Stiles’ body. Stiles was so gone for this man.

It was too much – he was going into overdrive by all the sensations Theo was making him feel. But it all crested when Stiles felt Theo’s fangs grazing against his pulse as his cock pressed into his prostate. And instead of pulling away, Stiles pressed himself closer to Theo and urged him, “Do it,”

Theo’s hand tightened around Stiles’ waist, his other leaning against the tiled wall to anchor their dancing bodies, his chest grumbling against Stiles’ back. He swore he could feel a heartbeat where there was supposedly none.

“You naïve little human,” Theo spat against Stiles’ neck, angling his hips expertly to pull a scandalous moan from Stiles’ mouth. “You don’t understand what it is you’re permitting me to do.”

“I think I know,” Stiles whimpered when the tips of Theo’s fangs pressed dangerously close to breaking the skin. He tightened his fingers on Theo’s hair, moving his hips in rhythm to his lover. “I want you to feed where you’ve never fed before – where you’d never feed from others,” he gasped after another well-aimed thrust. “I want that to be mine.”

Theo’s hand sneaked to yank at Stiles' hair while the other grabbed his chin in a painful grip, exposing his neck more. Their movements ceased for a moment, their eyes meeting even at the awkward angle – one blazing with fury and one reckless with passion.

“Do you not fathom how foolish you are?” Theo sneered into his ear. “How horrendous your devil-may-care attitude towards this whole affair is? All of your friends have warned you.”

“And they are right,” Stiles panted. “And so are you.”

He nosed against the shell of Stiles’ ear, tightening his grip on Stiles to still him when he attempted to get their bodies moving again. Theo growled. “So – what are you still doing here?”

“Fuck knows, Theo,” Stiles answered helplessly the same way he answered Lydia before. And repeating Kira’s statement days ago, he finished with, “My heart – it’s an unbelievable thing.”

His nose flaring, Theo stared into his eyes, reading Stiles’ desperation there. Finally, he violently pushed their bodies forward, forcing Stiles to let go of Theo’s hair to place his hands against the wall for purchase. Without another word, bared his fangs and descended onto his neck – impaling them right at the spot where Stiles’ heart beat the most.

***

A month later, he used his thrall to erase himself from Stiles’ memories. The irony wasn’t lost on Stiles – Lydia always accused his thrall for keeping Stiles coming back. Now he used it to leave Stiles.

Because Theo was cruel. Not in the way that a monster was cruel. He was cruel in the way a human was cruel. There was no need to draw blood when you aim at the heart.

***

But this isn't all about the tale of how Theo left. This is also the tale of how he comes back.

***

“Quite a bedazzling outfit, you got.”

Stiles jerks in surprise as a figure slips onto the seat beside him. The man signals for the bartender with a nod before turning to him.

Stiles frowns, looking over his shoulder in search. He finds a bustling bar with tables full of people in extravagant and over-the-top costumes, but none near enough for a chat. It's a holiday and it's the first new establishment in their little town in six years or so; people are supposed to be too busy enjoying the novelty to pay lonesome strangers by the bar any attention. He turns back to his stranger – a startlingly attractive stranger with a magnetic blue stare, Stiles realizes – and points to himself.

“Are you talking to me?”

The stranger smiles and says simply, “Yes.”

Stiles blinks. “Are you making fun?”

The handsome stranger’s thick eyebrows form a slight frown, in confusion, but otherwise, keeps his pleasant smile. “Why would I make fun?”

Stiles scoffs. His brain instructs him to say ‘thanks’ and let it go like any normal person would do, but his mouth has a mind of its own. And he’s also got half of his half-pint in his system. “You do see I’m only wearing a cheap cape, right? With a Led Zeppelin shirt underneath.” The stranger merely shrugs so Stiles gestures at an item on the counter beside his half a pint of beer, “And plastic fangs. Bought from the dollar store two blocks away. I can point at least fifty other people in this bar wearing a better costume than me. So, I would hardly call it ‘bedazzling’ .” And before he can stop himself from adding, he snorts and shakes his head. “Who even says ‘bedazzling’ anymore?”

The smile on the handsome stranger’s face only widens, “I concede,” he says. “Perhaps, it was not the outfit that bedazzled me into approaching, after all. Allow me to rephrase: quite a bedazzling sight you are – cheap cape, plastic fangs, Led Zeppelin shirt, and all.”

“I –“ Stiles stammers, taken aback by how smoothly he fell for that.

The bartender wordlessly slides a cocktail glass in front of the stranger and leaves without waiting for any acknowledgment. The stranger takes the glass and lightly swirls it, all without looking away from Stiles.

Stiles clears his throat, feeling his face warm up. And certainly not from his beer. “What drink is that?” he asks, both to say anything and out of genuine curiosity. He watches as the content swirls around with the motions of the stranger’s wrist. “It’s so thickly… red,” he wrinkles his nose. “It’s like blood.”

The stranger chuckles, “Of course, it is blood, as you should know,” he replies. “What else do vampires drink?”

Stiles gazes up to the stranger’s bright blue eyes and handsome smirk and feels his entire body developing jitters; his veins pulsing and heart racing under his skin. It’s not an entirely unknown feeling, but it’s been a while since he experienced it. There’ve been plenty of opportunities, but none quite like this. Stiles has never seen a more ‘bedazzling’ smile and enthralling eyes.

Jesus. He’s never even thought of the word before, let alone use it to describe someone.

“I see,” Stiles starts, playing along, eyes scanning the man’s crisp white button-down, black dress pants, and leather shoes. “So, you’re a vampire too, I suppose? Only, too snobbish to actually wear a costume, unlike the rest of us?”

The stranger’s blue eyes sparkle in amusement, “But we must admit, capes are a little bit medieval, wouldn’t you say?” He brings the cocktail glass to his nose, sniffing it. “Vampires in the modern world dress like young billionaires rather than brooding viscounts.”

Stiles arches an eyebrow, commenting, “And they drink blood from cocktail glasses.”

“Don’t get me wrong,” the stranger remarks, meeting Stiles’ eyes through the rim of his glass. “A human neck is still the sweetest tap to feed from, but that privilege is reserved only for those with the most exquisite blood.”

Stiles holds the man’s gaze as he finally tips his cocktail glass into his lips, and empties it deliberately. The glass clinks when it’s brought down to the counter, its previous content leaving a dark red trail around its inner surface and staining the stranger’s lips. When he grins, his teeth are tainted too. It should be a disgusting sight if anything, but Stiles is too busy being mesmerized to keep that in mind.

Stiles swallows through his dried throat, “That makes a very convincing blood,” he says distractedly.

The man grins, unmindful of his stained mouth. “And I?” he leans closer. “Do I not make a convincing vampire?”

His eyes flicker helplessly down to the man’s lips. The red stain is even more captivating this close – he can’t look away. The bar is still as full and loud as when he arrived, but somehow, everything has muted down to background noise. Unconsciously, his tongue darts to wet his equally dried lips. “How does it taste?” he asks, breathless.

“Adequate,” the stranger answers promptly – like he doesn’t have to think about it. Then Stiles watches, almost in slow motion, as the man reaches out to touch him, taking his cue from the hitch in Stiles’ voice before laying his strong, expert fingers on Stiles’ skin. He uses them to lift Stiles’ chin and coax his gaze back up straight into his.

Stiles breathes through his mouth, enthralled by the invisible force of the stranger’s blue eyes. Instinctively, Stiles leans his body forward as if heeding a tug. His body seems to comprehend all the stranger’s little prompts even when Stiles doesn’t. And powerlessly, he tips his head to the side when the stranger guides it, baring his neck.

“But you,” the man speaks lowly, making his words more personal. Something in Stiles knows this isn’t any normal interaction between strangers in a bar. By the second, he realizes nothing about this is by accident. It couldn’t be. Not from the look of yearning from the stranger’s eyes and certainly not from Stiles’ surrender of power. His mind doesn’t remember this man, but his body does. The way it shivers as the man’s fingertips trace the point where his neck and shoulder meet. The way Stiles’ breath stutters when his thumb presses against that particular area on his neck where his blood pulses the most, against the scar of puncture wounds marking his pale skin. The way the stranger whispers to him, “You… are exquisite.”

It’s like Stiles could hear his own heartbeat; thumping loudly across the room. The phantom stinging on his neck that oftentimes visit him in his sleep – that one he couldn’t decide whether a dream or a nightmare.

“I couldn’t stay away,” the stranger tells him apologetically. “I spent the past year in torture. I was foolish to think there was getting rid of you.”

Without meaning to or knowing where it comes from, he breathes out the man’s name.

“Theo.”

Sharp fangs dropping, the stranger smiles.

***

Theo Raeken exists.

I love Theo Raeken.

Theo Raeken loves me.

***

I sent thee late a rosy wreath, Not so much honouring thee

As giving it a hope, that there It could not withered be.

But thou thereon didst only breathe, And sent’st it back to me;

Since when it grows, and smells, I swear, Not of itself, but thee.

- Jonson

[amatchinwater]

Eichen House

When Stiles said he was worried about Scott finding out about Donovan, he thought that the wolf would kick him out of the pack, worst case scenario. Stiles never once imagined his so-called best friend would call him Void- to his face- and lock him back up in Eichen. The wolf said that he doesn’t even recognize Stiles anymore and convinced the sheriff to send him away.

He’s been there for weeks on end. 

There’s only one other person who knows for a fact the Nogitsune is gone: Theo. He may want Stiles to tap into the beautiful darkness that’s inside him. But that’s because it’s Stiles’ darkness, not some nonexistent evil fox spirit. Just his perfect, sweet, spaztic Stiles with a taste for chaos. Once the chimera realized that he actually cared for- loved- Stiles only to hear Scott lock him up, he was pissed.

It took him barely any time to plan. Killing Scott was easy. Theo made sure the wolf knew that he was doing it for Stiles. That getting his Alpha spark was just a bonus. Gathering a pack was harder, but he’d do anything for Stiles. So breaking into Eichen was the easiest decision he’s ever made.

We’re not here to visit.

We’re here for Stiles Stilinski.

Seeing the perfect boy crying and strapped to a chair in the basement enraged Theo like nothing else. Stiles deserved better. The chimera would give him better. Take care of him and love him properly. Unlike Scott, Theo wouldn’t care if Stiles did anything wrong or morally strained.

“I’ve got you, Stiles,” Theo wipes the tears on his cheeks. Slicing through the restraints, the chimera reaches out, “you’re mine now, okay?”

Stiles doesn’t even question it, just throws himself into the chimera’s arms and lets Theo save him. Trusting that once Theo gets him out of Eichen, he’ll be safe with him. 

[steoxthiles]

Steo Spooktober Day 1- Vampire Castle

Vampire!Theo and Vampirehunter!Stiles 🩸🗡

[bobbersb-fandomfun]

for the Steo Spooktober Bingo, I bring you a moodboard for the square Paranormal Games! Ouija Board Style. Please don’t repost, but reblogging is encouraged!

[sunel0]

For Steo Spooctober Vol. 3 @steodiscord square Familiar

Sometimes, Stiles wondered how his life would've gone if he didn't get possessed.

If they didn't find middle ground and merge together.

If he grew up the way he was supposed to, just an average magician with a tendency to get into things he shouldn't be getting into.

Like a connection with a sentient tree and then full blending of souls with a thousand-years-old demon.

He probably would have become a scientist and not one of the most powerful wizards the world has ever known, slowly but surely seizing country after country, one magical government after another.

He considered the papers thrown around the table in front of him, moving his hand slightly on the armrest of his chair, making the ice in the whiskey cling against the glass.

A warm hand gently but firmly pulled his other hand away from his temple, where he was rubbing it, feeling the headache coming.

"It's late," said his familiar.

Stiles looked down at Theo, who sat leaning against Stiles' leg and the armchair with his head on his knee, looking up with his oh so innocent blue eyes.

The pose could not be comfortable, but Theo knew his best angles and what exactly to show off to get what he wanted. The ring on his collar glistened slightly in the light of the table lamp.

"It is," agreed Stiles.

It was.

"Maybe we should get to bed?" Theo inclined his head in question, so Stiles could see his own name engraved in silver on the side of the collar.

Because that's who Theo belonged to.

He was fully Stiles' property. Stiles' own pet. His additional source of power. His messenger and ambassador. His magical extension, almost a third part of his soul.

His familiar.

Of course, he knew how to get what he wanted out of Stiles.

Most of the time. When Stiles felt like it.

"Wouldn't you like that?"

At that, Theo decided to drop his act. He smirked, satisfied, thanking he won, but still lowered his lashes coyly.

"I would."

Stiles squinted slightly, moving his drink this way and that, glass and ice singing. He didn't take his other hand from Theo's soft grip, watching the way light made Theo's lashes leave long shadows on his cheeks.

It wasn't unheard of, but it was rare to have a human familiar. Very few magicians had enough power for that, and Stiles didn't expect for it to happen when he found a black wolf on his front steps, knowing full well how familiar magic worked.

Familiars came to their people.

It's just Stiles' turned out to be a stuck werewolf, which, considering how rare the ability to shift fully was, was surprising enough on its own, without adding the familiar part of it.

But they made it work.

Very well.

"Do you like my collar? I spent an hour today choosing which one would be the best for the meeting and look nice with our suits," Theo, apparently getting impatient, tried to get Stiles to react to him finally.

"Yes, I noticed that we were a full hour late to the meeting," he said, his voice cold like steel.

Stiles could feel the muscles in Theo's back tense up against his leg, but Theo just smirked a bit wider, cockier, and purred:

"Are you going to do anything about it?"

Stiles shook his head slightly.

"No. Not today. It is actually late."

Theo frowned just a bit at him, not knowing if he was off the hook yet.

Stiles sat up straighter in the armchair, making Theo sit up as well on the floor, turn around, waiting.

Now he was catching up and getting worried. Stiles could feel it. He knew that tomorrow they had a free day, and this didn't bode that well for him.

A free day meant that Stiles had worked for several weeks non-stop, and was very much pissed off by all the administrative work and dumb politicians he had to deal with.

He needed to get his stress relief somewhere.

And Theo knew he hadn't been a good boy himself.

"Master..."

"Come," Stiles interrupted, standing up. "I'm going to bed."

When he could hear that Theo stood up from the floor behind him, he stopped for a second.

"Oh, and Theo?" Stiles turned to look into his familiar's mildly annoyed face. Theo didn't like not getting what he wanted. So spoiled. "Pets don't sleep in beds."

He walked away, listening to indignant hissing about dog beds behind him and thinking about how best to use his free time tomorrow to maybe finally get some manners into his familiar.

[narriaa]

Steo Spooktober: Doll

“Why has our daughter’s teacher called us about an incident involving Belle?”

Theo’s arms are crossed over his chest while he rests against the doorframe of Stiles’ office. He has his “I won’t take any shit from you Mr. Raeken” face. Meanwhile, his husband remains seated at his desk but levels his gaze firmly.

“You tell me. What happened at school that would trigger a situation with Belle?”

Their six-year-old daughter, Ariel, is the sweetest. But her dad is still a paranoid bastard that would rather cast a charm on her doll than let her go unsupervised.

“Nothing? Another kid took the toy and things went batshit crazy. Lights flickering, the boy is terrorized…” Theo explained with annoyance.

“Well… Fuck.”

Few months ago, Stiles himself would have considered his behavior excessive. Probably. But then his child had been threatened by an actual monster. And even though Theo has turned the asshole into shreds, Stiles still refuses to let their daughter out of their sight without protection. Said protection being a cursed toy seems rather okay with him.

Theo agrees with the principle, but not the means.

“How did they even link the mess with the doll?” The human asks suspiciously. To his knowledge, none of the teachers are aware of supernatural topics.

“Ariel told them her dad cast a spell on Belle to protect her. They want to know if there’s some electronic device that fucked up their whole system, lighting included.”

Stiles hums but his husband isn’t done.

“That’s not the point, Babe. It could get out of control and hurt her. And the staff is becoming seriously suspicious. You know there’s a better solution.”

“Theo, don’t.”

“We haven’t even tried yet. It’s the third time you damn doll triggers a disaster. We’re trying my way tomorrow.”

-

Ariel is absolutely delighted. She loves her daddy and he will stay with her for the whole day! Theo too is in a good mood. Really, the only one disgruntled here is Stiles. Maybe because he has to explain to the teachers why his daughter is coming to school with a huge black “dog” as a guard.

No more doll, just a werewolf-werecoyote. It’s going to look way less suspicious, yeah, of course.

Bite him.

PS : Yes Lydia is the one who chose Ariel’s name. Yes the two fathers tried to argue, no they didn’t win this desperate fight. And, finally, no it doesn’t matter because she’s the most precious thing on both lands and seas.

(Fuck, writing in english is hard i^i Thanks to @elfarock​ my beautiful beta!)

[eve-eleidan]

it's steo time

"Stiles, that's costumed Halloween party."

"Yeah, and I'm spiderman."

"Hoodie isn't going to make you spiderman."

"I look like Peter Parker anyway, and you put on a whole body art to look like a venom. Do you want this prise so badly?"

"And what if I do?"

"Then you gonna win. But also, my coatume won't ruin our kiss."

"Spider-kiss?"

"Nah, just the normal one. Come on."

[theoraeken]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love 💖

I only have seven published fics so far, but let's go!

Hunger - This is a very short fic, and it's my favorite because it's not the type of fic I ever thought I wanted to write, but it came to me, and it's something that I'm really satisfied with even looking back. (Steo)

Just Add Water - This is the smut fic I wrote for SteoSpooktober Bingo. This was a fic where I felt like I had to get extra creative because I was building a story off of a vague theme instead of going in with a set idea from the beginning. I didn't think it would get any attention, and I'm thrilled with the attention it ended up getting. (Steo)

Valentine's Day Extortion - This is by far my most popular fic and my longest. It's pure smut, and I love it. I had a lot of fun writing this, I cringe a bit thinking about how it reads, but I learned a lot doing it. (Steo)

Heteroflexible - This was the first fic, and I wrote it for a ship I don't primarily ship. I had a lot of fun writing it, and I hope to continue it one day soon. (Liolan)

Autumn Promise - This fic was short, but it really captured how I see the relationship between Theo and Stiles from when they were kids. I truly believe that having Stiles and the Stilinskis in his life was very impactful for Theo. Multiple canon moments led me to this belief, and it was nice to show that more consistently than on the show. (Steo)

[mercheswan]

Steospooktober2022: Tarot Cards

🎃🦇~~🎃🦇~~🎃🦇~~🎃🦇~~🎃🦇

Because the Magician tarot card represents someone smooth and charming, he or she usually waltz in and sweeps you off of your feet.

In true magical fashion, this is a whirlwind romance that feels like a fairy tale. If it hasn’t happened yet, it soon will. Will this relationship stand the test of time–well that depends.

The Magician tarot card sometimes represents a manipulator, someone who uses their personality and charisma to dupe those who fall under his spell. What does your intuition say?

The upright Moon can also be some illusion. There may be a hidden truth in your life that you need to uncover.

Relationships represented by the Moon card are often of an unexpected and unexplainable attraction. Keep in mind, traditionally there can be elements of illusion and deception in the Moon card.

The Moon cautions that someone you are interested in may not be all that they seem. This person may be intentionally deceiving you or putting on a mask that will come off later in your relationship.

[voidstilesplease]

My head is, once again, consumed by vampire theo and his human kept lover stiles, and my hand slipped:

He touched Theo’s hand and forced him to look at him. When he had Theo’s attention, he said, “So why don’t you feed from a human – directly?”

Theo leaned back in surprise, his voice gaining a hard edge when he asked, “What did you say?”

“Feed from a human,” he repeated, earning a growl from Theo. “Why settle with blood bags when you could drink straight from someone’s veins? You said you used to feed from your sister when she was alive, and she was all right the entire time, wasn’t she?”

Theo was angry. He likely knew where this conversation was going. “I shouldn’t have told you that,” he gritted out. “Besides, she was my sister. She wanted to help me adjust to the life I was thrust into against my will. Who do you think would be sane enough to consent to become a vampire’s personal blood tap and chew toy?”

“I would,” Stiles replied without hesitation.

Theo’s growl deepened, his chest vibrating with the sound. “That is because you are not sane. If you were, you would have been long gone.”

i'm sorry 🙈

[amatchinwater]

@voidstilesplease more vampire Theo for our hearts :)

Blood Bound

Warnings: Blood, Explicit sexual content,

Words: 4159

Ao3 link

Beacon Hills hasn’t seen an Omega in well over a hundred years. Nearly everyone presents as a Beta save for a very short list of Alphas. Like, super short. Stiles can count them on one hand short. There’s only two that matter to him though. One being his father, the sheriff and second in command. The other? Beacon Hills’ head Alpha? One Theo Raeken.

But you see, unlike everyone else in town, Theo is a little different. Okay, a lot different. He’s a vampire and once a month, the citizens pick a Beta to go to his castle and feed him. Call it a sacrifice, call it a tribute- whatever. It keeps the town protected because no one really wants to mess with an Alpha vampire.

Everyone in town is waiting for the day someone presents as an Omega. Their blood is different apparently. It supposedly tastes better to a vampire, is the only blood type that can be turned rather than born, and can more or less be used as a constant source of sustenance due to their impeccable healing.

It’s become this widely accepted notion that whoever presents as an Omega will be given to Theo without a second thought. No matter who they were. They would instantly pack up and go live with the lord in his castle on top of the hill. Hell, Theo practically demanded it. It is his birth right though. Founding family, town protector, head Alpha and all that. It’s meant to be an honor that someone ends up being born for him.

So it only makes sense that when Stiles turns eighteen his eyes flash blue. The veins in his hands and arms become more prominent. Stiles was also pretty pale to begin with, but his skin lightened a good shade or two so that when they’re not bulging out, the blue veins are visible. Because why wouldn’t he become an Omega? Made to be a vampire’s equivalent of a mate. He’s just trying to keep the thought that if he’s supposed to basically be Theo’s other half, then that's gotta be good somehow, right?

The hardest pill to swallow isn’t even that he’s about to be a living breathing blood bag for a hundred something year old vampire. No. It’s the realization that he will more than likely never see his dad again. No Beta has ever made it out of Lord Raeken’s castle alive. Understandably so. They were mere sustenance for a month until they dried up. Omega’s aren’t like that. His presentation signed the dotted line of him being Theo’s for the rest of his natural born life.

He’ll never have a proper life outside of being a food source. His dad will be taken care of at least. Theo always pays the families well for their sacrifice. And there has to be some level of respect if he’s literally meant to stay alive for the vampire. Some modicum of care for his own mate, right? So these have to be the worst case scenario. Not like there’s anyone around that he can ask about the Alpha’s treatment though.

Or what he looks like for that matter. The last time Theo had to come down from his castle was over thirty years ago when a witch was causing trouble. Stiles’ father described him as a well dressed man with brown hair and blue eyes. Because that’s helpful. He essentially described Isaac with that little detail. Yeah, last the Omega checked his best friend isn’t a vampire, but it’s the principle.

The goodbye to his dad sucked. Saying goodbye to Isaac was just as rough. They’ve been friends since they were in diapers. There wasn’t much of a warning either. The minute his veins popped out, the local druid that confirmed his presentation was legally obligated to send word to the Alpha. He was vague or so Stiles was told. Just said that there was now an Omega in Beacon Hills and would arrive by nightfall.

All of three hours after his presentation.

He'd be lying though if he said he didn't have this weird feeling in his chest. Like Stiles knows he's meant to be at that castle. With Theo. Someone he's never met and already there's this small hint, like the aftermath of being tickled, in his heart that this is right. No matter how nervous he may be about the situation.

The black Mercedes with fully tinted windows pulled up to his driveway to take him away just as the sun hit the top of the trees. Now with his two bags of clothes- his father was given a letter stating that the rest of Stiles’ things would be picked up within the week- the Omega arrives at dusk. Just enough light left over that his new Omega senses don’t have to work too hard to see the castle. Albeit a little overgrown with ivy, it’s still a beautiful place. At least he gets to live in a cool ass place as compensation.

The driver said fuck all to him the entire way there. Not that Stiles could find a thing to say or ask anyway. Nerves overshadowing his usual word vomit while he bites his nails raw. The tall, thin man gets out from behind the wheel as silent as ever to open Stiles’ door for him. The Omega slings both bags over his shoulder like this whole ordeal doesn’t phase him in the slightest. Honestly, what would putting up a fight do? Get him killed? No, thanks. If this is supposed to be a good thing, he'd like to keep it that way.

Two ornate double doors with dragon head knockers stare Stiles in the face. Reaching out to use one, the door opens on its own. Because that’s not fucking ominous at all. And fucking weird. Stepping across the threshold and into the castle’s foyer he can’t stop his jaw from dropping if he tried.

It’s a little dark from candles as the main source of light- though he can see bulbs in the chandelier- the Omega sees beautiful, deep red wallpaper with intricate black designs. Setting both bags down, Stiles steps towards a set of velvet chairs tucked by the staircase and has this sick temptation to call out. But he won’t. Surely the Alpha knows he’s here by smell alone. The room he’s in breaks off in four different directions. The itch to find out where they lead is very prevalent.

“You must be the Omega,” a gorgeously deep voice startles Stiles while he’s examining the small table with crystal decanters and a steaming mug of what looks like tea. His head jerks up to the top of the staircase where the sound came from and he almost knocks the teacup over. Seeing mostly the silhouette and shadowed features of the vampire leaning against the railing, the figure starts to descend.

“Sorry,” Stiles says, holding both hands out over the tray to ensure the drink won’t fall before stumbling towards the stairs. “Yeah, I’m the Omega. My name’s Stiles.”

His legs grow more like jelly with each step as the nerves start to settle in his gut once more. This is actually happening. He’s here now and Theo’s right fucking there. And holy fuck is the vampire gorgeous. Maybe an inch shorter than the Omega at the most. Theo seems to fill out his crimson shirt beautifully and the stubble on his jaw has Stiles make this weird clicking sound when he tries to swallow. If it’s any consolation, the vampire seems to be eyeing him just as hungrily.

And not in a needing food sort of way.

When he reaches the bottom of the stairs, the Alpha leans on the edge of the banister, “you don’t have to apologize to me, Stiles. This is your home now,” Theo says, “you can touch and explore all you want. I want you to be comfortable here.” He gets off the last stair and walks over to the small table the Omega was just at and opens a little jar, “how do you take your tea?”

It takes a moment for Stiles to recover from that. No one has ever told him that he can just do whatever he wants. Sure, the Omega does it anyway, but it’s never really been with permission before. Theo actually seems kind of nice. And he didn’t just come down the stairs and sink his fangs into the Omega, so there’s that. “Three sugars, no cream, and honey if you have it, please,” he answers slowly, meeting the vampire.

He watches the Alpha add three sugar cubes and honey before stirring it into the ceramic. Picking it up, he offers it to the Omega, “it’s chamomile. You’re probably a little nervous about all of this. It’s great for anxiety and helping people sleep. I thought it could help.”

Stiles takes the small cup, “you made tea for me?” The Omega blows the steam away before taking a sip. It’s fucking perfect. “I figured this was just an ‘I’m here now so you get to eat for the next however many years I live for’ sort of thing.” Why not get straight to the point, right? It’s not like Stiles has ever been good about doing that in the first place.

Biting the grin from his lip, the Alpha gestures to one of the chairs and Stiles sits down. Taking the seat on the other side of the small table, Theo asks, “you don’t know much about mates, do you?”

“Not really, no,” he takes another sip of his drink. Liking the way that the warmth spreads through his chest and actually does reduce his unease. It helps him feel like he’s just meeting a regular person for the first time. The Omega has to remind himself that he is. While Theo may be a vampire, he’s still a person.

“I knew you presented. Well, not you specifically,” the Alpha leans forward so his elbows rest on his knees. “But I could feel it. It took everything I had not to come into town to find you and bond with you immediately. Before I even knew what you looked like, I wanted you, Stiles. Not just for your blood either. Someone only presents as an Omega for their mate. Meaning that you’d never have presented if it didn’t mean that you were meant to be with me.’

‘Now, I know we don’t know each other yet, so I understand if you’re wary about all of this. But know that I will do everything to keep you safe and happy. I don’t expect you to stay cooped up in here everyday. I can go out in the sun, I just choose not to. Never really had a reason,” Theo shrugs, “until now that is. I don’t want to push you too hard, but I do need to feed eventually. It doesn’t hurt. And if it’s ever something you want, I’d be okay turning you too. We can figure out a different way to eat.”

Out of everything Stiles imagined Theo would be like, this is far from it. He was ready for some guy to just drink from him and then chain him to some room until he was hungry again. Not tell him that he can still have a life; see his dad. That the Alpha wants him as more than just a bloodbag. For fuck’s sake, the vampire hadn’t even met him yet and had a warm cup of tea to calm him down and make him comfortable. That’s a lot of consideration that the Omega didn’t think he’d get.

Also, saying that he doesn’t mind turning Stiles is basically saying that he doesn’t mind being with the Omega for literally ever. “So you don't just want to drink my blood?”

"Oh, I do. I really do, I can smell it from here," Theo responds, pointing towards him. "And that vein on your neck, god your neck is just- do you have any idea how good you look?"

That has a dark, hot blush sting Stiles' cheeks. "No?"

The Alpha laughs, smiling to his ears and the human can finally see his fangs. Blame his newfound Omega nature if you want, but all he can think about is getting those to puncture his flesh. "Well, you're gorgeous, Stiles. And your neck is the most tempting thing I've ever seen. Truly, I've never met a human that has made my fangs literally ache."

Oh?

"A-are you hungry?" Stiles sets the empty teacup back on its saucer, leaning on the plush armrest. "This is all very weird, yes, but you seem nice; decent. And I've never been bold a day in my life, but you're hot as fuck, dude." That has the Alpha grinning through another laugh and if that isn't the most beautiful thing the Omega has seen or heard. "I get where you're coming from, despite my near constant state of anxiety, I felt it too when I presented. That I needed to be here with you. Now, I see your fangs and I- I have this intense need to know what it feels like for you to bite me.”

By the time it takes the Omega to blink, Theo has both hands on either armrest and is nearly two inches from his face. “That can be arranged,” the Alpha says with a smirk. “We can do whatever you want or nothing at all. It’s up to you,” the vampire leans closer to his ear and the breath on his neck is warm and makes him gasp. “I’ve been waiting for you for a really long time,” Theo’s lips brush against his neck and his fangs tease the flesh. “So if you want me to feed on you right away that’s fine.” He kisses the crook and one of Stiles’ hands comes up to his bicep. “If you want me to take you to bed immediately,” his voice a deep whisper and a chuckle is painted on his skin, “then I’m okay with that too.”

Why was he so nervous again? Stiles certainly can’t remember. Not when there’s a warm body so close to his yet somehow so far at the same time. Teasing him like Theo knew that’s what the Omega would like. He’s not a virgin, Stiles knows what he likes. It just so happens that the Alpha apparently does too. Or this is just how he is and it happens to line up perfectly. Mates. Right.

“You’re not telling me no,” the vampire nips at his neck and the slight sting shoots right to his dick. Because it’s the truth. The Omega isn’t saying no. And he’s not so sure that he wants Theo to stop what he’s doing either. Feeling like his body is agreeing with the Alpha for him. Falling pliant to the vampire because he feels nothing but safe and filled with need.

“Theo,” he whispers. Not trusting his voice to not crack if he spoke too loud.

“Hmm?” The Alpha hums, kissing the spot he abused.

He can’t believe he’s saying this, but the words are coming out and they taste of nothing but sincerity, “bite me.” Theo’s hand cups the opposite side of his neck, thumb brushing against his jaw and Stiles leans into the contact. When the vampire’s fangs sink into the crook, the Omega moans, finding the pain delicious and way more erotic than he’d expected it to be. The pulling sensation is a bit weird, he’ll admit that. But it’s not much in the way of a hindrance with how good those teeth feel.

The Alpha doesn’t take much, only sucking on his neck for all of ten seconds if that. Theo licks away the blood and the Omega is a little surprised at how numb the area feels now. Like there wasn’t something just piercing his flesh. “Perfect,” the vampire purrs, leaning back to look at him. “Is that all?” Theo asks and the Omega’s fingers run up the vampire’s arm until he’s cupping his face too. The smallest line of blood peeks out from the corner of the Alpha’s mouth and when he breaks a small smile, his teeth are still tinged red.

Stiles knows he probably shouldn’t find that attractive. Like at all. Except that he does. He likes to look at Theo with that streak of red on his face. His blood on the Alpha. Throwing caution to the wind and letting himself trust whatever obvious instincts these are. “No,” he gently squeezes the vampire’s jaw before rushing up to crash their mouths together. Because he wants whatever Theo will give him. The vampire said he would.

The Alpha however doesn’t take more than he’s given and that’s not really what Stiles is after right now. So he pushes forward, parting his lips slightly as an invitation and can’t help but moan into the kiss when Theo accepts. Sliding their tongues together like they’ve been doing this forever. Moving in perfect sync that the Omega didn’t even realize they were actually moving until his toes touched the stairs. To which the vampire lifts Stiles up by his legs and carries him up to his- their room.

All the while licking and playfully nipping at the two holes on his neck. A door is pushed open and before Stiles can even try to see, he’s laid down on a massive bed with silk sheets and the Alpha climbs on top of him. His thigh falling between the Omega’s legs like a perfect fit, rubbing against his hardening erection. The human’s moans are swallowed by Theo’s tongue slipping in his mouth again. Pulling at his bottom lip with his teeth, the Alpha’s eyes flash red at Stiles, everything making a pleased groan work its way out.

“Stiles,” the vampire pants, fisting his hands in the hem of the Omega’s shirt. He can only nod and lift up the best possible, allowing the Alpha to take his shirt off. Theo instantly drops down to lick and bite at every available inch of skin.

His own fingers fumble with the buttons on Theo’s until the Alpha pulls back and yanks his shirt off. The image sort of frazzles Stiles’ brain for a moment, damn near drooling as he runs his hands along Theo’s abs, chest, and biceps. “I get to bond with you?” The Omega asks in disbelief, still pawing at the vampire. “How? How do I do that?” Stiles looks up with wide eyes to find the Alpha smiling at him.

Slowly, Theo leans back down, his arms on either side of the Omega, “you have to drink my blood.” The Alpha brushes their noses together, getting his lips close enough that makes Stiles chase them for contact. “Is that okay with you?”

“I’m sure there’s reasons I should find it weird,” the human says, his voice hushed, “but I don’t. I-I want to bond with you, Theo.” Stiles eyes flash blue and it just has the vampire crashing their mouths together again, leaving enough space between them to shed the rest of their clothes.

"You tell me when you're ready," Theo says, digging his fangs into the offered flesh once more as one slick finger rubs the ring of muscle in a tease. Stiles doesn't understand where the lube came from, but he's absolutely not gonna think too hard about it as said questing finger dips inside him knuckle deep. The Alpha groans as though it were his cock pressing into his warmth and that does things to the Omega.

His fingers curl in the sheets at the slight burn of a second finger. But the mild pain is instantly forgotten as the pads brush against his prostate before scissoring Stiles open more. "Theo," his voice is a wrecked, broken sound that grates out of his throat, "more, please." Need rising in him as well as heat.

With something that sounds dangerously close to a growl a third finger joins the others and the vampire doesn't hold back. Thrusting his hand harshly, jabbing the bundle of nerves relentlessly as he hooks his fingers. "Fuck," Theo hisses when the Omega clenches around the digits, trying to keep them deep inside. "Okay, baby, I've got you," he says. Quick to pull his fingers out and press his wet dick and the stretched entrance.

Stiles keens when the vampire sinks inside of him in one powerful thrust forward. His legs falling open of their own volition. Not that he minds the least bit.

"Okay?" Theo asks, trying to give the human a moment to adjust. But the Omega is already pushing himself down on the vampire's cock, needing it to hit that spot- hands dig into his waist and the Alpha pulls back and slams his hips forward. "Whatever you need, baby."

The Omega preens at the name, never wanting to hear anything else fall past the vampire’s lips ever again. "You," he moans, "just you." The realization that that's one hundred percent true should affect him more than it does. Except that it doesn't. Stiles can't imagine any other outcome but this. The minute he laid eyes on Theo, the Omega knew in his bones this was right.

The vampire promptly pulls out and Stiles whines at the loss, feeling cold without Theo on top of him and buried so deeply inside of him. "It's okay, I'm not going anywhere," the Alpha coos, brushing the matted hair out of the human's eyes and kissing him softly. Moving enough until he's laying on his back and pulling Stiles into his lap. Lovingly rubbing his thighs as he grins with red tinged fangs.

Settling on top of the Alpha, Stiles gasps at the way the new angle digs into his prostate. Warmth spreads in his gut as he starts to grind against Theo, watching his eyes burn red and shrink. “Theo,” the Omega moans, rocking his hips harder, fighting his eyes from rolling back, “I’m ready.”

The hands on his waist squeeze for a second before the Alpha sits up, bringing Stiles with him until he’s resting against the headboard. The Omega watches in awe as the vampire brings a nail up to his neck, slicing a thin line that instantly draws blood. “It’s all yours,” Theo says, leaning his head to the side so the human has a better angle.

He doesn’t think twice about it. Rather rushes down and clamps his mouth around the wound, sucking until Theo’s blood coats his tongue. The Alpha moans, reaching up from behind to grab his shoulders and bucks his hips up into Stiles. The Omega’s moan is muffled around the cut, drinking until it heals and he throws his head back. There's a sort of snap inside him, like a padlock clicking closed with Theo’s name carved into the metal. He feels whole. Tethered to the Alpha as though Theo is coursing through his veins.

In an instant, Stiles is on his back again and the vampire is thrusting into him vigorously. One hand digs into the bed beside his head for leverage as the other puts a loose but firm hold on his throat. Not enough to cut off his airflow, but enough that Stiles' dick twitches between them, ready to explode. Being with Theo doesn't seem so bad. Not with the way his thrusts pull sounds from him he's never made before. Beautifully splitting the Omega's body in two just to hold him together with a singular grip on his throat.

Stiles' heart jolts in his chest as the vampire thrusts harder and faster. Pounding into him so quickly that the Omega is amazed the legs of the bed haven't broken with how much they're creaking. Or that he’s not breaking either. Must be part of being an Omega.

"You're mine," Theo nips at his jaw and the human gasps. Eyes rolling back as the friction of the Alpha's abs on his cock and barrage to that perfect spot inside him make him cry out. Shooting his cum in thick spurts all over their chests. The vampire hums in approval, "So perfect, Stiles. Perfect and mine," he groans. And a few sharp thrusts later, Theo fills his mate with his hot release. Leaving Stiles beautifully full and his head foggy as all fuck.

But like Theo said, it's perfect.

He can't find a single complaint as the Alpha pulls out and settles them on their sides. Gently nipping at the nape of Stiles' neck as he pulls the Omega close. He can't even find it in himself to care that they're still laying backwards on the bed. Theo damn near fucked him into a coma and the fangs in his neck are keeping him there. Fine by Stiles, he's too high on post sex endorphins to speak or think. Quickly falling asleep in the Alpha’s warm embrace, dreaming of the day he asks Theo to turn him.

[whoishisaribi]

Backbone of the cult of Void

Summary: Theo would put his life for it without hesitation if he needs to. And he knows Stiles’ll do the same.

look at the gorgeous art by an amazing @ctrlkun-i-raduga​ !

Some people say every cult needs a god. That’s a very degrading term. God is something that doesn’t exist, and Theo knows it better than anyone else.

But Void – Void is a completely different matter. It exists. Right on the surface, and yet, you can only catch it in passing. Something dark and unwelcome. Something that was here before the light and any of “gods” started existing. It’ll stay even after everything is gone.

Inescapable fate. Everything starts with Void, everything ends with it. People’s minds come from nothingness. To nothingness, they’ll escape their meat suits called bodies.

The Beacon Hills is fondled by Void.

Maybe that’s its isolated location.

Maybe it’s the mist that hugs the town. Coddles around it like a welcoming presence you can feel even on sunny days.

Maybe that’s the forest who invites lost people in and gives them a place within.

Maybe that’s the neon lighting that pierces through the night, illuminating empty streets at night like it’s a day.

Too many maybes for Theo’s liking, but that’s what Void is – a trickster, which knows it’ll stay there even after they are gone. For it, everything that happens is mere moments of fun.

Void is inevitable. It’s something Theo came close back in childhood. When the whole town wanted to burn him and two other kids for things they didn’t do. It’s something that kept him alive years later.

The cult needs a god. But what they worship is so much bigger than any entity that could exist.

Five years after graduating high school and moving out. Theo was reluctant to come back, after what happened – what they did, mocking voice says, Stiles doesn’t even look at him from the phone he’s playing some game at – with Argents.

But when Void is calling its children home, they can’t say no to it.

It’ll lead them there anyway, no use to resist. One better comply, otherwise it’ll make them come by force. Void is so much stronger than the force of nature. You can’t even think of fighting it. Havoc awaits ones who struggle Void.

Theo knew some people – back then they were teens – decided to disobey it. They were so eager back then, but then they grew up, the “cult is bad!” nonsense filled their pretty heads. But they should’ve known back in the high school, and they better learn it now again – it’s unavoidable.

The cult of Void. Now the name seems a bit childish, but Theo won’t try and change it. Not after their very own prophet huffed and said he liked it.

Their witch. With eyes gleaming gold at day and staying pitch black at neon light. Theo leads the cult, and he will lead it, while he can. Even if to get closer to his prophet.

Neon tells the truth, it always does. There are too many half-tones in the sunlight, that’s why Theo operates in the daytime. Because the night and the neon lighting are periods for verity and closeness to Void. To their prophet, the witch, his Stiles.

After Theo graduated, his parents sold the house and moved away. They left Tara’s grave behind and didn’t even want to come back to visit it. And that was ok. They wanted to see light and gods. Not truth and calming emptiness Void provided.

So he came back, with money he managed to earn during his university years. He was lucky he didn’t have a student loan. His parents paid for school, even though he could get a sports scholarship. He also worked hard, because he knew he’ll be back.

There was a building not too far from the main street for a sale. Two stores, spacy, not too worn-down, on a cross-road. It wasn’t perfect but was exactly what they need. They renovate the first floor for a small cafe, the second floor is empty for now, and he can’t reach the attic yet.

On the left side, there’s a medical shop. Not a drug-shop, at least, they don’t sell things you should use in hospitals. Herbs, tinctures, poultices, tonics, powders… everything that’s considered a “traditional medicine” sells there. Marin, who owns this place, stares at them indifferently. She watches everything like that. She’s a druid, one that believes in her own god – balance. Void huffed at it. Stiles found it a bit concerning.

A few stores on their side of the road are electronic ones and a convenient one. Nothing special. There’s no cafe in this area.

Across the road, they have some more “magic-related” shops. One sells books. Another sells alive plants. One more buys things you can only imagine selling. The one that’s in front of their cafe sells one's future.

Real oracles are very dangerous. One can’t know if the future shapes itself according to their words, or their words are shaped by the future.

The one who owns this shop is semy-real. Jennifer has a gift, but she sucks at it.

There’s also a bright neon sign with letters and images of cards. It lights the whole second floor through a wide window. The one where two people can sit.

It’s nighttime. The one when Void is strong and is hugging dark corners. Cases a distortion of light. Blurs shapes.

Theo’s used to it already. He concentrates on letters and pictures in front of him. It makes sense, but in a way, he doesn’t understand.

Stiles’ knee is on his tights, a comforting warm presence. Out of a corner of his eyes, he sees him smiling softly.

It’s not always like that. In the day they bicker like a married couple, too loud and sometimes obnoxious. They can’t stand each other in the daylight yet. They always look like they are on the verge of break up over stupid things, and yet, they are still together.

Because they have night and neon.

It doesn’t begin right away. When evening or morning comes, their jaded corners soften a bit. They become less aggressive and more calmed. One day, they’ll be able to bring this quiet feeling in the daytime. When Stiles would finally stop himself being unable to be loved and just admits Theo won’t go anywhere even as he throws worst things at him. When Theo would finally chill a bit and let Stiles catch up.

In the nighttime when they almost don’t talk. And even if they have to use words, they are hushed and soft. Gentle even. Not like they aren’t filled with sarcasm and snide remarks, but there’s still this warm feel about it.

It feels like home.

Touches so passing and light. Almost tender. Too affectionate to not feel like a dream when the sunrise comes.

Even features of their faces soften. Like they are still these seventeen or so teens in the last row in the cinema. Kissing almost awkwardly, even though both had some previous romantic experiences.

That’s sure Void’s doings. They feel safe surrounded by it. Open. Exposed. Real.

Theo feels how Stiles leans toward him and looks back, finding his face a few inches away. Only a few inches.

Void’s witch eyes are still black in the bright neon lighting. And yet, they are the most delicate Theo ever saw in the day.

Stiles’ lips aren’t soft, a bit weather-beaten. His fingers are strong on Theo’s hand. And yet, that’s what he will never exchange for anything.

This feeling of being in control, and yet, controlling nothing.

That rollercoaster of emotions he got.

The certainty that his witch is loyal to him and Void, and he’ll not be betrayed.

The uncertainty he’ll live till the dawn.

The distorted neon lighting that changes the world so much.

The mist – or that’s a cloud that got caught by the town – that lurked right outside the window.

The soft hum of acknowledgment and whispered good luck wish that sounds more like a charm.

Theo would put his life for it without hesitation if he needs to.

And he knows Stiles will do the same.