#steo day

[sapphireginger]

Summary:

As luck would have it, Stiles found Theo first. He used the shadows to travel to where the coyote was, having just passed the chemistry lab room. He slammed Theo into the lockers, uncaring of the dents their bodies made and started devouring the coyote’s mouth. “Make me forget,” he whispered in Theo’s ear and the coyote did just that.

@steodiscord @steoevents

[amatchinwater]

Pairing: Steo

Warnings: threats of violence/death, mild dub-con, claiming bite, implied sexual content (if you squint really hard)

Words: 3825

Prompt: @steodiscord Steo Day vol 3 "enemies to lovers"

ao3 link

Tricking a Trickster

---

He’s not complaining. Honestly, he’s not. It’s just that Stiles didn’t really know that the fae had such a sense of humor. But again, he’s not complaining. Not anymore. The outcome is something he never thought he’d be allowed to have. Thought that he literally wasn’t allowed. If anything, Stiles is kind of grateful. In retrospect, things could have gone a lot worse. 

The events of the super moon left a lot of tension in the air. Creating an even larger rift between what’s now two packs. Scott’s and Theo’s. With Stiles stuck right in the middle. Despite everything with Lydia and even Scott, Stiles harbors the worst crush on the Alpha chimera and loves his pack members. For the sake of not hurting the banshee or his best friend, he tries his best to smother it with a pillow. Not only because of his friends but also the fact that if Stiles looks at this plainly, Theo is not very far off from Peter. 

Stiles isn’t the biggest fan of Peter. 

Nominating Theo as his self appointed enemy really just seemed like the best way to go about this. So he did. But it’s awful. And Stiles absolutely hates it. However, Stiles feels like this is the best solution for everyone. Except for maybe Josh. He’s grown quite close to the chimera ever since he came over one day to apologize for what happened on the hospital roof. In fact, the only chimera that Stiles shows openly having a problem with is the Alpha. He’s been at it for so long, the lines have started to blur and he can’t seem to tell the difference between self appointed and just pissing Theo off to the point of them being enemies being true.

Maybe he’s just trying to make himself believe it.

“Stiles,” Scott pulls him out of his mental spiral and the human yanks his thumb nail from his teeth. “You’re with Theo checking the tunnels.” 

“What?” The human squawks, jolting upright, gaze flicking to said chimera in the corner of Scott’s living room. 

Theo smirks, “what’s the matter, sweetheart? Afraid to be alone with me?” The Alpha chimera teases, crossing his arms over his chest while he leans against the wall. All too pleased with himself, licking a sharp incisor. 

“Put your fucking fangs away, Raeken,” Stiles gets to his feet, pointing at the chimera. Liam rises from the spot next to him on the couch, putting his hands on the human’s chest to stop his advancements. “Or I swear, I’ll find whatever bullshit does work on a chimera and get real fucking creative-”

“Okay, that’s enough!” Scott yells over him, claiming everyone’s attention. “I’m over this! Kira and Josh are already at Eichen trying to see if there’s something from when the Doctors broke in. Lydia and Mason are going to the station with your dad. I need everyone possible to search the preserve with me. But I’m not letting you go in those tunnels alone. So you’re taking Theo with you and that’s the end of it.” 

“Why can’t I just go with you in the preserve and someone else can go with Theo?” Stiles aruges. 

The True Alpha drops his head back with a sigh, “if anyone has a reason to mistrust Theo, it’s me.” Scott looks back at him. “He fucking killed me and yet here he is in my living room, eating with us while we work together to figure out how to stop the Dread Doctors. Lydia has long since forgiven him.”

“Not to mention I’m the whole reason they don’t have their precious Beast,” Theo adds, and Scott gestures towards the other Alpha. “You know, to prove to guys that I’m on your side.” 

“Don’t forget that he saved your life too,” Corey says from beside his Alpha. “Josh was seconds away from killing you.” 

Believe him, that isn’t something Stiles will be able to forget any time soon. Doesn’t change the reality that Theo has done a lot of fucked up shit. He hasn’t exactly forgiven Peter for everything he’s done. Why must everyone push for the human to give into Theo so much? It’s fucking annoying. Just because he has the hots for the guy- which, he’s certain no one knows about- doesn’t earn redemption. 

“You are probably the only ones that can make sense of the Dread Doctors’ research.” Scott squares his shoulders and sets the human with a glare, “Theo’s going with you.” 

“Oh my god,” Stiles pushes past Liam towards the front door. “Let’s go, Raeken,” the human doesn’t bother to stop walking, yanking the door open, “I want to be home before midnight. I will leave you.” Stiles also doesn’t wait to see if Theo’s coming with him as he storms out.

---

“Well that’s not good,” are the first words out of Theo’s mouth after descending the stairs behind the ouroboros door. 

God, Stiles thought the tunnels themselves smelled rank. The actual operating theater is even worse. He may only have human senses, but even Stiles knows what death smells like. And there’s a lot of it here. How in the hell did Theo stay down here with them? Or was he at the house as much as possible so as not to aggravate his supernatural nose? 

“What’s not good?” Stiles asks, actually wanting to know. He’s never been in here and if Theo sees something out of place, he’s actually inclined to believe the chimera. There’s something too in Theo’s tone that the human doesn’t really like. Almost like he’s worried, but not quite? Acute concern. 

The Alpha points at a giant vat with tubes sticking out of it. Large portions of its glass have shattered to the concrete ground, a bright green residue remains in the cracks near the bottom. “That used to hold a Löwenmensch. And I don’t see a body,” Theo looks around the room to be sure, “which means he’s out. You see that green shit?”

“Yeah,” Stiles draws out the word, narrowing his eyes at the chimera moving towards a side room.

“Think of that stuff like miracle-grow. Or supernatural steroids without the nasty side effects,” Theo explains without actually really explaining much. “It’s how the Dread Doctors have stayed alive this long. It’s how I brought my pack back to life. He was in there for decades. Just, soaking in it.”

“Okay, but what the fuck is a Löwenmensch?” The human asks, watching the Alpha sift through files before handing one to Stiles. It’s labeled Lowenmensch in scratchy handwriting. He starts to read through while the chimera explains out loud. 

“He was some really important, Nazi prick,” Theo rubs his jaw, “I don’t know of any others in existence other than him. I think that’s why the Doctors kept him. He’s a natural hybrid. Part werewolf, part werelion.”

Stiles can’t help the snort, “and Scott gave me shit when I suggested Liam was a werecheetah. So I’m guessing we should be worried about him on top of everything else?” 

“Absolutely,” Theo points at the file in his hands, “if their precious Hauptmann is on the loose, he’s only a step down from the damage the Beast could’ve caused. You should tell Scott,” the chimera’s face softens for a moment. 

“Yeah,” Stiles tosses the file back on the metal table with the rest to dig out his cellphone. “Yeah, okay,” he says once the device is in hand. He’s even more inclined to believe Theo after reading the file for himself. A Löwenmensch is already stronger, faster, and more durable than an Alpha werewolf on a bad day. This one has been marinating in super juice for decades. Stiles really doesn’t want to know what this guy can do on a good day. 

Theo feels it a second before Stiles does, growling and flicking his claws out. The shift in the air with a distinct clicking and hissing that only comes from the Dread Doctors. The hair on the back of the human’s neck rises. 

“Get out of here,” Theo growls at him. 

Stiles doesn’t need to be told twice, shoving his phone back in his pocket. He turns around and runs for the exit, hearing the Alpha’s echoing footsteps behind him. They make it two turns in the tunnels before Stiles nearly runs right into one of the Doctors’ chests. He stumbles back only to knock into Theo who promptly puts himself between the human and the threat. 

“Theodore,” the one on the left, the Geneticist, if Stiles remembers correctly hisses. “You’ve come home.” 

“This isn’t my fucking home,” Theo snarls, crouching slightly and the human can’t tell if he should take a step back or one closer. Would proximity or distance keep him safest?

Not like it matters with his feet frozen on the spot. 

“Such a disobedient pet,” the Surgeon says with a depth to his voice he’d have spat it were he speaking normally and not through a machine. 

Okay, no. No matter how scared he is being face to face with all three of the Dread Doctors, Stiles isn’t about to stand here and just listen to someone be talked down to by their manipulators. Their abusers. Self appointed enemy or not. No one deserves that shit and Stiles has never been good about biting his tongue. 

“He’s not your fucking pet, you manipulative, psychotic, half dead mother-”

“Enough,” the Surgeon steps forward, his sharpened cane a mere inch from Theo’s throat.

“Stiles,” the Alpha hisses, “Shut. Up.”

“I’m just saying,” Stiles mumbles under his breath. “You’re not their experiment anymore.” 

Theo half turns his head to look over his shoulder, “now is really not the time, sweetheart.” 

“You were supposed to give all of yourself to us, Theodore,” the Geneticist takes a step closer. “That was the deal. Everything you are, you owe to us. Meaning we own you until your debt is paid. Didn’t we teach you that love is meaningless? Have you forgotten that anger and power are the only things that matter?”

A pit settles itself in Stiles’ stomach and Theo backs into him until they’re flush. That’s not really helping the anxiety bubbling in his chest. If the Alpha is scared, that’s really fucking bad. Nothing seems to scare him. If only his feet would fucking move.

The Pathologist lets out something that sounds like it should’ve been a laugh. Or maybe Stiles is really good at reading between the lines of the clicking and hissing sounds from their masks. “Perhaps this will be the lesson you won’t forget.” 

There’s no chance to react. The Geneticist suddenly flickers in Theo’s face, breaking a glass jar with bright blue powder inside under his nose before the Surgeon shoots a bolt of electricity at the chimera. Knocking the Alpha off his feet with a yell, sending both him and Stiles flying down the tunnel. The human barely gets his hands up in time to prevent his head from hitting the concrete. 

“Have fun killing everyone you love,” the Pathologist drones.

And then they’re gone. As if they’d never been there to begin with. 

With a groan, Stiles gets to his feet, brushing off the dust from his flannel as he walks to where the Doctors were once standing. Finding not even the smallest of traces. Even the blue powder that exploded in Theo’s face is gone. Squatting to get a better look, there’s nothing on the floor to sample to try and get Deaton to figure out what it might be. It’s just gone. 

“Hey, Theo,” Stiles rises to his feet, “do you know what that stuff was?” No answer. “Theo-” the human faces the Alpha who’s still on all fours, clawed hands splayed on the floor, growling through his breaths. “Theo? Theo, are you okay?” Against his better judgement, he takes a step closer, red eyes snap to him. 

“There’s nothing the Doctors wouldn’t try,” Theo grunts, gritting his teeth before dropping his head. “Not even magic. They loved that shit,” he huffs through his breaths as though speaking is physically painful. “They’re going to make me kill everyone I love by whatever she just threw in my face. I already feel my anger rising and I can barely control my shift. You need to get out of here.” 

“Okay, that’s not good,” Stiles makes to grab for his phone, taking another step towards the chimera. “I’ll tell Scott to get your pack somewhere-” Theo growls so loud it might as well have been a roar. “Theo, what can I do?” 

“Run,” the Alpha rumbles darkly.

“If that spell or whatever is going to make you attack the people you love, I’ll be fine,” Sties crouches in front of the chimera, firmly believing in their moderate discontent with one another. “I’ll stay here with you and keep you from attacking anyone you actually love until it wears-”

“I love you,” Theo yells, wild rubies burning when he snaps his head up. Shock drops Stiles’ jaw seeing the truth in the chimera’s eyes and the way his claws fracture the concrete from his determination to not move. “Now RUN!” 

He isn’t even allowed to process the revelation that Theo has feelings for him too let alone loves him because Stiles runs. For his fucking life, he runs. He’s seen what the Alpha looks like when he fights. Seen him kill. It’s not a moment later that he hears a vicious roar echo through the tunnels, Theo losing his fight against the spell coursing through him. 

“Shit, shit, shit,” Stiles makes a left, hoping he’s heading towards the rail depot so he won’t have to climb out of the tunnels. That would only slow him down and he needs to get as far away from Theo as possible. It’s not like he can use mountain ash to barricade himself until this powder has run its course. If it runs its course. 

Bursting through a side door, Stiles’ feet nearly trip over railroad tracks. He fucking made it out, thank god. He’s far from in the clear though. Barely gathering his footing to not smash his face on the tracks, the human runs out of the depot and into the preserve. Maybe he’ll get lucky and run into Scott or one of the others and they can subdue Theo. 

“Run faster,” Theo snarls, too close for comfort. Though he’s grateful that there’s enough of the chimera in there to try and warn him. 

“You’re fucking part werewolf!” Stiles pants, lungs burning trying to supply him enough oxygen to keep running. His legs are straining under the pressure. If Coach could see him now. Running blindly through the woods in the middle of the night somehow keeping a supernatural creature at bay. “Scott!” Stiles yells, hoping he’s near someone, fucking anyone who can help him. The human barely processes the tree with red berries he has to dart around.

The crunching twigs under the Alpha’s feet snap closer and closer. “Keep going! That was a Rowan tree. We’re getting close to Fae territory.”

“The Fae are real?!” Stiles shrieks. They should really expand their bestiary, this is getting ridiculous. Next they’re going to tell him there’s mermaids off the coast too.

“Yes,” the chimera snarls, his fingers grazing Stiles’ back, kicking a fire under the human’s ass to push harder. “They’ll have mistletoe or a fucking circle that you can get into if you ask nicely. It’s not a free favor,” Theo snarls when he shreds Stiles’ flannel and he continues on. “But at least you’ll be alive.” 

“Why mistletoe?”

Theo growls, “it’s the only thing that can hurt me. But Fae legend says that it breaks curses. Makeshift spells should go away just fine. Just ask them for what you need. Now, Stiles,” he tears through the t-shirt, claws pricking his skin enough to sting. 

“Ow, fuck,” Stiles winces. “Okay. Shit. I don’t know how to do this. Uh,” he pants, desperately trying to push his legs to their limit. His feet are screaming at him. “Sorry for stepping in your territory, but I could use some help! Please! Uh, a circle of mistletoe would be great. I just, I need whatever will make Theo stop attacking me.” 

Bright, light purple sparkles shimmer in the distance and Stiles damn near sobs at the sight. Tapping into every last shred of strength and resiliency he has to get to the fucking circle. Just as the human gets to the outer rim, Theo crashes into him. Arms wrapping around his torso as they slam to the ground. Fuck, this was supposed to help! Stiles tries to roll around, landing on his back hard. Bucking his hips to try and get the Alpha off of him. 

Theo snarls, grabbing the human’s wrists and pinning them above his head. The chimera’s fangs clamp around his throat in a light hold, growling until Stiles falls pliant. More like stalk fucking still. Terrified that this is the end of it. This is how the Alpha kills him. He can’t even mutter a plea for his life, Stiles is that scared. But the moment he ceases his fight, Theo’s fangs recede. Replaced with his tongue gliding along his pulse and his lips peppering kisses along the salty, slick flesh. 

“Um,” Stiles squeaks, very fucking confused. Kissing is good. Kissing means he’s not being murdered. But why is Theo kissing- he moans a little- biting, why is Theo biting him? The spell broke it seems, but the chimera should be more or less his normal self. Theo should be on his feet, talking, doing something. But fucking hell does it feel good. 

The Alpha rumbles again, digging his hips until Stiles’ fall open for him to settle into. “Mine,” Theo murmurs against his neck. 

“What the fuck is going on?”

Yes, Theo admitted he loves the human. And Stiles really isn’t about to lie about his own feelings with that cat out of the bag. That doesn’t really explain what’s going on here though. 

“You said whatever would make Theo stop attacking you,” a woman’s voice echoes in his head. Stiles does his best to look around for the source, but can’t move much without aggravating the chimera on top of him. “So I charmed the mistletoe to tap into his more primal instincts. The ones that want to claim the one he loves rather than kill them. You’re welcome,” the tone oozes sass

Claim him. He’s not stupid. Stiles knows what that means. “Just because I’m cognizant to say yes, doesn’t mean he is.” Theo didn’t consent to this. There was obviously a reason he never voiced his feelings before this. 

“It wouldn’t have worked like this if he didn’t want you, he’d have simply stopped trying to kill you.”

“But-”

“I believe the words you’re looking for are ‘thank you’.” The Fae woman chuckles, “I could throw in some heat symptoms for you if that’ll make the process easier. But he won’t stop until he claims you.” As if he words brought it on, Theo bites a little harder, certainly leaving a mark and his hands grab Stiles’ waist. “You’re the only one he wants, otherwise this wouldn’t have worked. You’re also the last person he would hurt. Meaning if this would hurt you, he wouldn’t be doing it.”

“Theo,” he turns his attention back to the Alpha. Red eyes look up at him, glassy with lust. The chimera was still there underneath the powder, maybe he’s still here too. Stiles will be damned if he doesn’t at the very least try. He puts his hands on Theo’s chest, feeling the vibrations of his pleased growl beneath his fingers. “Are you in there at all? Give me some sort of sign that you’re not okay with this. I can’t force you to do this, Theo. Please, I can’t have you hate me. Please.”

“I’m here, sweetheart,” Theo growls softly, eyes fading back to blue. “But I’m not sure how much longer. Leave the circle if you don’t want this, it’ll keep me and I won’t hold it against you. But she was right,” the Alpha’s eyes bleed red again, “I want what’s mine.” 

Well, when you put it that way.

However, the Fae aren’t the only ones who know how to play tricks. Stiles’ nickname as a kid wasn’t Mischief just because he couldn’t pronounce his name. He has and always will be a prankster. All she said was that Theo needed to claim him. Not knot him. Not fuck him. Simply claim him. Biting Stiles should be more than enough to get rid of this haze Theo has. He really doesn’t want his first time with the Alpha to be in the woods with faeries watching him. No, thank you. 

“Okay,” Stiles takes a shaky breath, attempting to calm the rest of his nerves. “Bite me so we can get out of here, please. I don’t want to do this here. At all.” 

“Okay, sweetheart,” the Alpha rumbles in his chest, sounding more animal than man. The growl only gets louder when Stiles tilts his head back, exposing his throat for Theo. “Gonna claim you, then take you home,” Theo slurs, sloppily kissing his neck. 

 “Yeah,” Stiles breathes out, trembling with anticipation. The noise that comes out of him when Theo’s fangs sink into the crook of his neck is more than a little embarrassing. A loud, guttural moan broken off into a scream. His nails dig into the chimera’s shoulder as Theo snarls around his bite. “Theo,” the human whines, shivering again at the soothing nature in which the Alpha licks the wound clean. 

Strong arms wrap around Stiles, lifting him up into a bridal carry. “Mine,” Theo rumbles, nuzzling against the mark he’d left. “My Stiles. Mine,” he repeats, stepping out of the circle now that they’ve completed its demand. 

They make it a few paces before the woman’s voice stops them, “how are you out? You two didn’t mate!” 

All of the adrenaline from running for his life dissipates and Stiles lifts his groggy head, “you said he only needed to claim me. Not mate with me. Well, I’m claimed. So we’re going home.” 

“Are you sure you’re not part Fae?” She asks, amusement and maybe wonder thick in her tone. “That was very sneaky. Finding a loophole to my loophole. Not most humans can do that.” 

“He’s not most humans,” Theo says, ignoring whatever else she wanted to say, tucking Stiles back into his neck and carrying him out of the woods. 

Now being safely tucked into Theo’s arms, Stiles can’t really find a reason to be upset about tonight’s turn of events once Theo gets him home and finishes the mating process. Scott should’ve forced him to work with Theo a lot sooner. He’d have had an actual mate for much longer. That’s okay, there’s all the time in the world to make up for what they lost. 

[naenaex0xx]

maybe I'm comfortable with tumblr because I get to say things I don't usually tell anyone

[whatareyoudoingwithamaserati]

I am feeling mor estress than I have ever felt in my life <-guy who cannot find his earbuds

[its-tea-time-darling]

3 times 5 recs

alright alright alriiiiighhhht. crest, @crestfallercanyon , tagged me in this wonderful, very thorough fanfic ask game, and since my answers absolutely escalated, i will be answering some of the questions as seperate posts. aka the innocent question number 19.... what are five fic recs.

because i absolutely could not make up my mind, i divided this into 3 categories.

all time favorites

it's a hell of a world minewt, mcd @cherrypigeon

always free for you nsfw toxic thomally @manako-no-yami

you can rip, you can tear by anonymous minewt fight, and it gets ugly.

these truths unbound and ripe for burning safe haven thomally @crestfallercanyon

Apelsin by originalblue 2015 thomally classic

give them a read, you will love them

The Name expert use of narrative perspective in thominho @dunne-ias

Day 1 - You Not Me thomesa break up (yet don't) @nice-to-meet-ya-shank

His Method To Madness & Her Theory Outside the Box thomesa high school au that starts with a misunderstanding @missroller15

Scarves by runner_love (orphaned account) minresa safe haven where thomas dies instead of teresa

Cinnamon and Strawberry newtmas baking au @go-catch-a-chickn

nsfw picks

he goes down easy for me thomally @crestfallercanyon

janson is a terrible, horrible, no-good, very bad man a pay-attention-to-the-tags adventure @mazegays

This one's for you thomesa @dunne-ias

of under me you quite so new by ambitioncutsusdown minally, tw weed use

enthralled toxic steo smut @voidstilesplease

[jimmy12427]

@steoevents @steodiscord

[cescalr]

thalia x reyna from percy jackson for the ask (i'm pretty sure you've read heroes of olympus but if i'm wrong, ronance from stranger things)

I will answer both and this is gonna be soooo controversial (for the second) lol ack

Also; I'm on mobile, and this is going to get long, and i cant link any suppirting posts that explain my perspectives better than i can, lol. If you want, i'll dm the metas. I hope I get the keep reading thing right, but if it doesn't work... sorry. Summary:

Tl:dr; I could see reynalia working, maybe, but I'd need to read some to get a proper feel for it. It might be one of those cases where I prefer it in polyamorous form, aka reynaliabeth. Reynabethalia. Or maybe when put alongside pipabeth (idk piper/annabeth...) Idk. As for ronance, just not my cup of tea for a variety of reasons. I prefer robin crossover ships, like my tiny little dingy of tarabin. (Tara Maclay/Robin Bucley).

Reyna/Thaila (reynalia??) Is not something I've ever considered, to be honest. I'm not sure how compatible they'd be, but I do ship annabeth/thalia (I should really look up pjo ship names, huh) and I've even given thalia/percy a go, because I'm firmly in the camp that you should give most ships a chance before you write them off completely (as it stands, the most controversial pjo ship I've ever read would either be luke/percy or nico/Sadie - that was written before he was confirmed as gay, though, so it's a grey area, like pre-confirmation romantic stobin fics, or willow/oz content, though differently so for the latter*).

Given all the above, I can't say I don't ship it, but I can say I'm not sure. I think given I like thaliabeth (??) and reynabeth, it wouldn't be a stretch to ship reynalia, though!

(*willow is controversial because of a clash between people who interpret her being called a lwsbian as biphobic vs people thinking calling her bisexual as lesbiphobic, its a whole deal I don't want to her into rn but... eeh, I guess I should state that I'm in the camp that her being bisexual is the most logical reading of canon, her status as a lesbian is a self-identifier because she swore off dating men, not because she isn't attracted to them - she cheated on Oz with Xander for purely lust related reasons, her whole thing with the will be done spell, and her actions with Amy when she goes off the rails (magically forcing men to dance half naked In cages in the bronze, along with other questionable acts) is... uh, not particularly lesbian behaviour, generally speaking; imo, Willow uses being gay as a mask for her insecurities same as she does her witchy power and her choice of fashion - to distance herself from the 'pathetic' girl she used to be. Its a whole psychological thing tied up in era-typical bigotry, unfortunately. It was the 90s. She wasn't going to be addressed as bi, even though she so clearly was. There's a reason I really like 2000s doctor who - it was the first positive representation of a bisexual I'd seen on screen, and being bisexual is clearly going to affect my opinion, here. Like. Duh. Same with lesbians who interpret her as lesbian. I don't think we should be arguing- at the end of the day, we all technically want the same thing; personal representation of our own lived experiences, and that's not a bad thing. Theres a good video on youtube about the controversy, which. Theres always a good video on youtube, lol.)

Um. Oops, rambling. Anyway.

So, ronance. Oh boy.

I see Nancy as straight. I'm also not fond of how she treats Robin in the little time we see them together. Im also not a fan of robin dating the ex that broke her bestie's heart. So, ergo, I don't ship them. I'm genuinely, as much as it probably doesn't seem that way, more of a fan of friendship, at the end of the day. I would see it as a betrayal (same way I see scolia and stydia as a betrayal). I tend to use romantic/sexual relations as a way to explore character because that's easiest to get my points across, but I prefer friendship. Romance is, at the end of the day, conditional. Friends can be friends still after three years of no contact, but that's a signal for the end of a romance. So what I'm getting at here - you can be tentative friends with someone the way robin and Nancy act (as is their canon dynamic), but I wouldn't be conformable with them dating. Nancy barely tolerates Robin. She displays annoyance at pretty much everything she does, from rambling to venting to expositing her mental state, Nancy's countenance just screamed 'I'm waiting for this to stop'. I don't like that in friendship, and I like it much less in romance. Even with my most controversial ships, there's still a kind of passion. Hate is not the opposite of love - it's apathy. Nancy seems often apathetic to Robin's mental state, her worries and concerns. She dismisses a lot of what robin says and does, at least from my perspective watching them. And it must be said - and I'll freely admit - I'm not Nancy's biggest fan, but I love Robin, she's my girl. That's going to cause some problems. Even with ships that are objectively questionable, I have to like both characters for me to get behind it, or I have to like both characters when in the context of the ship. This makes little sense, so I'll extrapolate.

In the Vampire Diaries, I don't really like Stefan Salvatore, and unpopular opinion time, I hate Klaus. I really, really hate him. At this point, it's straight-up loathing. But I greatly enjoyed their dynamics, from 20s to modern day, and that they shared an ex was funny to me (same way it is with Zutara, and making jetko kinda-canon for that reason alone half the time, akfjqlfjwk) as well as being an interesting thing to happen. (I mean, what are the odds, really?). So there's that. I also liked stefan and Katherine's whole weird deal, which played an aspect. What I'm trying to say, I guess, is that there's a certain respect even in my most dubious ships (jetko, steo, fuffy, spuffy, etc) that I feel is completely lacking in ronance. There's a video by Jill Bearup about enemies to lovers ships that might give a good reason to one aspect of why I like it - they take each other seriously. There's an understanding of competence, an acknowledgement of thought processes, a certain level of understanding. Nancy has none of that for Robin.

When I compare the two ships of the 'fruity four', as people have taken to calling them, steddie and ronance strike me as two very different kinds of ships. And I only half get steddie (very not fond of popular portrayal) - there's no real chance for me to get ronance. It is what it is, I suppose. People like what they're going to like. If you want me to extrapolate on any of this, I'd be happy to! My thoughts are oft all over the place and need a bit of direction to make sense, though, fair warning. I think about a lot of stuff and only rarely coherently akdhlwkfkq but I think there is a throughline. At the end of the day, mutual respect is mandatory for me, in romantix relationships especially, but not only for that. If I can't really get behind ronance platonically, there's no hope for romantically. And for the record, as stated above, I did give it a shot. Read the most popular fics and then a couple of the most recent, as I always do. They didn't agree with me, and they left me feeling distinctly... well, not so distinctly because I can't find the right word, but I couldn't help feeling the way I do about the popular portrayal of Hermione is happening to nancy? She's perfect and flawless and a girl boss and has never made a mistake ever and I just.... eeh. Also the treatment of Robin is... not always great. But that's a whole 'nother topic I've already rambled long enough, I don't need to add that.

Basically, tl:dr; ronance is kind of disquieting, probably because I'm not fond of their characterisations within ronance fics, and I'm often affected by the fanon regarding a ship. I never liked Sterek, for example, but I could've tolerated it if a) it wasn't so prevalent in fandom that it appears often untagged like an accepted part of canon when it is not and b) if it didn't so wildly misinterpret the characters, plus didn't include a character that doesn't sit right with me (Derek - Nancy) and a character I love but portrayed in a way that doesn't even remotely align with my interpretation of them 95% of the time (Stiles - Robin).

Er. Yeah. Oof.

Tl:dr; I could see reynalia working, maybe, but I'd need to read some to get a proper feel for it. It might be one of those cases where I prefer it in polyamorous form, aka reynaliabeth. Reynabethalia. Or maybe when put alongside pipabeth (idk piper/annabeth...) Idk. As for ronance, just not my cup of tea for a variety of reasons. I prefer robin crossover ships, like my tiny little dingy of tarabin. (Tara Maclay/Robin Bucley).

:).

(As you can probably tell, I have... lots of very complicated feelings about shipping Robin (and like, shipping in general, being honest) with canon ST characters. I'm much less strict abt Riordanverse characters as a whole, for reasons I'd be perfectly willing to extrapolate on/discuss if you'd like to do so!).

♡♡

[29121996]

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[roseknightred]

dropped chapter 7 of “The Guardian is my Beacon” on AO3 last night... should I post it and future chapters on here too or leave it alone and only post them there? 

[usermischief]

♞Pairing: Steo ♞Characters: Stiles Stilinski, Theo Raeken ♞Tags/Warnings: mentions of rape, mentions of murder, explicit content ♞Words: 6233 ♞BTHB - Breaking a Promise | Kinktober '23 - Cock Warming

ao3

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this thing between us

“You’re fucking yourself up like this.”

Stiles closes his eyes and lets out a breath. It’s almost five in the morning. His body aches, he hasn’t eaten in almost a day, and all he wants is to collapse into his bed. He doesn’t need a lecture from Theo Raeken of all people. Scoffing, Stiles shoves his key into the lock. “You always preferred the fucked-up version of me.” His door clicks open, and he pushes it out of the way of his escape.

“You know that’s not true.” Theo gets to his feet.

Stiles considers slamming the door in his face, but the thing about Theo is, he used to appreciate a lot of his persistence. “What are you doing here?” Although his first question should’ve probably been ‘how did you find me?’. But this is Theo, and Theo always finds a way. It was just a matter of time until they crossed paths again.

Dodging questions is another of Theo’s strange talents. “Why do you keep doing that?”

“Because the tips are fantastic.” Stiles turns around, trying to fill out the doorway as much as he can. Theo doesn’t need to get the impression he’s allowed in.

The message seems to be clear because Theo’s expression darkens with annoyance. But the worst part is, Theo still looks hot as hell and so much better than anyone Stiles has ever hooked up with in the past four years. “You don’t need the money,” he accuses in a hushed tone.

“And since when do you know what I need?” Stiles knows he’s right. After everything that has happened, he doesn’t have to lift a finger for the rest of his life — he doesn’t have any friends or family either. So, what good does all of this money do? It doesn’t erase the memories. It doesn’t stop the nightmares from finding him in the darkness. It doesn’t prevent people from whispering about him behind his back. “I haven’t seen you in almost five years, and now you’re here, acting like— acting like you’re my savior or some shit.” He’s been alone for too long now, he doesn’t need anyone; especially not Theo.

Drawing his brows together, Theo studies him for a moment. “You’re drunk.”

“Stellar conclusion.” Stiles rolls his eyes, “if only I drank alcohol.” And that’s true, although it’s not always easy as a bartender when everyone else around him is hammered.

Theo uncrosses his arms. The worry carved onto his handsome features makes Stiles want to punch him. “Did you take something?” As if he couldn’t be any more condescending. Looks like the past few years without him caused Theo to pick up some of his mother’s annoying mannerisms.

“I haven’t slept in 48 hours, I’m starving, and I just had mind-blowing sex—“ which isn’t entirely true, but Theo doesn’t need to know that “—not that that’s any of your business, by the way.” Although Stiles knows he doesn’t need to explain himself to Theo or anyone, really, he cannot deny himself the petty revenge — and he knows it hit home, can see it in the way a flash of pain cuts through the worry on Theo’s face. If only it would make Stiles feel any better or could undo what happened to and between them.

Unsurprisingly, Theo doesn’t deign this with a response. Instead, he doesn’t hesitate and wrestles Stiles into the apartment. It doesn’t take him a second to overpower him, easily forcing Stiles back enough so he can kick the door closed with his foot — like he owns the place.

“Get the fuck out,” Stiles snaps, nearly elbowing Theo in the face as he wrenches himself free from his ex-boyfriend’s all too familiar grasp. It’s a shame he missed.

The light flickers on. Theo neither moves nor reacts when he’s faced with a flight of stairs. He shoots Stiles a look before climbing them, making it abundantly clear he’s not going to leave any time soon. Because why would he? He’s Theo Raeken after all. Beloved and cheered on by his adoring fans. Everybody loves him. Everybody wants to be with him — even the person he hurt the most by breaking his fucking promise.

Stiles hates how much he still yearns for his touch.

Too tired to fight him or deal with the cops, Stiles shoves past Theo and hurries up the stairs. He hates them with a passion, especially after long nights, but they’re a pretty good advantage if someone decides to break in.

“So, what. You let random strangers fuck you for a few extra bucks every night?” There it is. Of course, Theo couldn’t just let it go. Five years, and the jealousy is still as strong as it used to be.

Stiles spins around at the top of the stairs. The moment Theo popped up at his bar, he should’ve had him kicked out. But that probably would have caused even more issues. “Are you pissed about me having sex, or are you pissed it wasn’t you who bent me over the bar and fucked me?”

Theo’s face darkens, which is already answer enough. As well as he may be able to hide his feelings, anger has never been an emotion he could control. “I’m not here to argue,” Theo tells him coolly as he steps onto the main floor. His gaze scans the room, slowly traveling from the immaculate and pretty much unused kitchenette, to the dining table with a bowl of fruit, the clean couch and empty coffee table, and the little office in front of the French windows.

Stiles can see the things Theo is seeing, the black exposed brick walls, the half empty shelves, the way his loft apartment doesn’t seem to be lived in if it weren’t for the clothes thrown over the steps of the ladder leading to the bedroom, and the mouth wash by the sink. No pictures. No personal items. Nothing that needs to be packed in case of a hurried departure.

“I’m going to bed,” he says, kicking his sneakers under the coffee table. “Make sure to be gone when I wake up.”

“You need help.”

Stiles whips around, and Theo can only consider himself lucky, he doesn’t own anything he could potentially throw at him right now. “No,” he snaps. “I needed you. Needed. You hear that? Past tense. So, you can fuck off.”

Theo’s anger visibly deflates. “Stiles—“

“You know what I needed? You, keeping your promise five years ago.” Stiles advances on Theo, and he’s never realized how much he wanted to get everything off his chest. “I needed you by my side, but instead you’re in your private clinic while I’m being stitched up and sent home. I was fucking alone, and you didn’t bother returning a single call or text. Instead of getting through everything together like you promised, I got a money-hungry guardian who sold the rights to my life to a journalist who gets off on other people’s trauma. I had to get a lawyer who couldn’t do anything to stop the publication of the book, but hey, at least I got a bunch of money while my worst nightmare is being read and discussed by people I’ve never seen. So, I was eighteen, and I was alone because my friends and family have been slaughtered by a fucking psychopath. I fired the person who got paid to make sure I stay alive, and the person who I thought loved me hadn’t bothered to talk to me in over a year.” Sties shoves Theo, and Theo doesn’t do anything. He merely stumbles back a couple of steps, catching himself on the railing. “I moved to LA only for your cunt of a sister to release the snuff film her psycho fiancé filmed. Just that he didn’t get to kill me like he wanted to. No, instead the world gets to see how I stab him twenty-five times. I packed my shit up again and moved to New York, and after I went through all of this by myself, you have the fucking nerve to come here, take one look at my life and decide I need help?” Stiles grabs Theo by the collar of his expensive leather jacket and slams him against the kitchen counter. “Your fucking family ruined everything for me. I’m 21. I should have a college degree. I should be on the way to the FBI, but do you think they’d hire the guy who stabbed someone over twenty times? No, they don’t. Not when the world doubts it happened in self-defense because Tara only released what she wanted the public to see.” Taking a shaky breath, Stiles yanks Theo closer. “So, get the fuck out of my life.”

Tears start burning in his eyes, but the last thing he wants is allowing Theo to see how he really feels. Stiles shoves him once more for good measure and turns around. Part of him hoped he would feel better after finally getting to tell Theo most of the shit he wanted to throw in his face for years. But he isn’t. Not even a little bit.

Stiles is about to climb the ladder to his bedroom when Theo finds his voice again. “I never knew.” His voice is soft, almost inaudible.

It makes Stiles stop in his tracks regardless. “I wonder why,” he mutters under his breath, fingers tightening around the ladder. Just move. Still, his body refuses to cooperate. Something keeps him drawn to Theo, like a part of him refuses to let him go. Stiles lets out a breath. “Knew what?” But he knows the answer, deep down, he knows exactly what Theo is going to tell him.

“That you tried to contact me.”

Stiles lets go of the ladder and decides to collapse onto the couch instead, face in his hands. He’s tired and exhausted and not even close to ready to have this conversation. His life got turned upside-down five years ago, but his wounds are still bleeding as if it happened mere hours ago.

Theo crouches in front of him, one hand gently placed on Stiles’ knee — a touch just as familiar as the pain. “You were the first person I asked for when I woke up. My parents said you didn’t want to see me, and when I finally got my phone—“

“I had changed my number.” Stiles crosses his arms over his thighs. “I didn’t want to believe your parents when they told me you thought it would be better to go separate ways, but the silence from you… it got to my head.” Perhaps he should’ve tried harder. Perhaps he was the one who broke their promise.

Theo is shaking his head lightly, gaze fixed on something over Stiles’ shoulder. “I never saw any calls or texts… I don’t…” He draws his eyebrows together and looks at Stiles again. “I don’t understand why they would delete them.” When it comes to trusting Stiles or his parents, Theo doubts his family.

It should make Stiles feel good, instead he feels hollow, like someone carved out every single emotion. Theo never particularly liked his parents because they had his life planned out for him, yet he never distrusted them, always believed that they wanted what’s best for him. Becoming a famous football player deviates from that what they wanted. So, his parents either changed their tune after almost losing him, or Theo stood up to them.

Stiles smiles, and he knows it looks as empty as he feels. The Raekens didn’t want their son to pursue a career in football, and they had very specific expectations for his partner — expectations Stiles didn’t even come close to. “Theo,” he says in a soft voice, cupping the other man’s cheeks, “your parents despised me.” While they never cared for Theo dating a guy, they very much disliked that said boy was not from the same social bracket and struggled with ADHD and anxiety, which was decided not up to their standards.

“They never said anything.”

“To your face.” Stiles bites his bottom lip and puts his hands in his lap, tugging at a loose thread at the hem of his hoodie. Swallowing heavily, Stiles looks down at his fingers. “Do you know why… he did what he did?” All those years, he can’t bring himself to say the name. It’s easier to think about him in describing factors.

Tara’s fiancé.

He.

The monster.

Theo grabs his hands, squeezing his fingers gently. The touch alone makes Stiles’ heart beat in a way it hasn’t in a long time — almost like it just now remembers how to be alive. “He had a criminal record.” Which really begs the question why he was welcomed into the Raeken family with open arms, after all, his criminal record was impressive. Then again, he came from a family with old money, and boys that age simply make mistakes. Nothing to worry about. Theo squeezes his hands softly. “People think he wanted to get back at your father… but it doesn’t make any sense because…” Theo trails off, unable to look Stiles in the eye any longer.

It’s something people tend to do mid-conversation when they suddenly realize who their bartender really is. Theo doing it hurts more than he’s ready to admit. He swallows the pain, something he’s accustomed to do. “Because why keep me for last?” Stiles finishes the question in a hoarse whisper. The tears threaten to return, and he pulls away from Theo, curling into the corner of his couch he’s always hiding in when thing become bad. His throat aches with unspilled tears, but he can’t stop. Not now. Not when he can finally say all the things he’s buried for too long. “Your mother knows the truth.” Stiles wraps his arms around his shins, pulling his legs to his chest. “You can ask her.”

“My mother?” Theo repeats slowly, drawing his brows together in confusion.

Stiles nods, staring at a single drop of coffee in the white fabric he’s never noticed before.

“Why would my mother know?” Theo stands up and sits down next to him, the dip in the cushion almost causing Stiles to fall into him.

He curls his fingers into his jeans, barely resisting the urge to get up and leave. Where would he go? Where could he go knowing exactly what’s going to happen in a matter of minutes? The dam broke open. This isn’t the first time. It won’t be the last. The memories will return whether Stiles says it out loud or not. “Do you remember Tara’s 21st birthday?” Every word feels as if it is ripped out of his throat.

Theo nods slowly. “You left that night. I still don’t know why.”

Taking another shaky breath, Stiles keeps his gaze fixed on the coffee stain. He can’t look at Theo, not now. “I excused myself to the bathroom because I needed a break from everyone.” Social gatherings still get to him. His job as a bartender doesn’t make it easy to deal with but the bar separating him from everyone else helps. “He followed me upstairs.”

Next to him, Theo stiffens — either because he remembers that night, or because he can tell where this story is going.

“I went into your room. I didn’t lock the door.” Why would he? Why? At that point, Stiles didn’t need to be afraid. He licks his lips, curls his fingers tighter into his jeans. “He found me there. At first, he was sweet and understanding. He tried to coax me back down… but then—“ The words get stuck in his throat, choking him; one of the dirty secrets nobody is allowed to hear.

“Miecio.” There’s a crack in Theo’s voice, cutting the nickname in half Stiles hasn’t heard in more than five years. Fingers dance ghostlike over Stiles’ back, waiting for a reaction, for permission. Theo understands what he’s trying to tell him.

“Your mother came upstairs. That’s when he stopped.” His knuckles turn white, his joints aching from the pressure. The coffee stain is the only thing he sees. “I tried telling her what happened. She told me to leave before I ruined her daughter’s party. So, I left, and I didn’t tell anyone, and eight days later, Melissa found her son’s body on the front porch.” Stiles wishes he could point a finger at Theo’s mother, blaming her for his secret, for the silence that killed everyone he loved.

Almost everyone.

Theo cups his cheeks again, gently tilting his head and forcing Stiles to look at him. “This isn’t your fault.” He knows him too well, knows the inner working of his mind — sometimes better than Stiles does himself. “You couldn’t have known.” But Theo doesn’t know the whole story, and he certainly doesn’t know the ending.

The memory hits hard, but it doesn’t come out of nowhere. It does, what it always does when his mind can’t stop wandering; wrecking him.

Stiles tears away from Theo and rushes to the sink, throwing up bile and guilt, but the memory claws itself into every fiber of Stiles’ being, refusing to leave, ready to make him suffer for the rest of his life. It burns his body with shame, and it’s something he can never purge, no matter how many strangers he’s going to fuck in the back of his bar.

In an instant, Theo is by his side, trying to calm and comfort him. But there’s nothing he can do, nothing to stop the memories from coming back, from reality crashing in on him like an avalanche.

When the worst is over, Stiles runs the water and rinses his mouth with the mouthwash until he can’t taste the bile burning on his tongue any longer. Then he collapses in the corner of his kitchen, the one space in his apartment that lets him see everything and pulls his legs to his chest again. He really hoped the high of an orgasm would help him through the night. It barely lasted long enough to get home.

Theo kneels next him, brushing sweaty strand from Stiles’ forehead. “Something else happened that night,” he says, and his voice is even, almost as hollow as Stiles felt mere moments earlier. “And my sister knows.”

For a long time, Stiles wanted to tell Theo exactly how fucked up his family is. Theo’s always been aware they’re far from perfect, but Stiles doubts he knew how far they’d really go to protect their reputation. Now, that he knows the truth, Stiles doesn’t feel any better — not with the flashbacks, and most likely not without them.

Stiles leans against Theo, pressing his face against his chest. Then he’s in Theo’s arms, shuddering, curling his fingers into his soft shirt. A strong contrast to the rough hands tearing off his pants and boxer briefs, rolling him round and pressing his face against the dirty floor, an arm’s length away from Theo bleeding out. He told him Stiles could save his life as long as he behaved. So, he whispered, “okay,” and didn’t make another sound, didn’t dare to move as the monster claimed his body, tainting him for the rest of his life. But that was okay as long as he got to keep Theo. Because that’s what he promised; Stiles’ body for Theo’s life. It seemed like a simple trade at that time.

Theo rocks him softly, protecting him from ghosts.

“We’re going to get through this,” he had promised, bleeding from his wounds. None of them lethal. They were supposed to kill him only if Stiles didn’t behave.

“You promised,” Stiles whispers.

Because he behaved. Stiles behaved. He said so too only to decide that Theo needed to die anyway. It would be better that way, he’d said.

To this day, Stiles doesn’t know why the knife was left on the ground next to him. Maybe he thought Stiles to be too broken to do anything. But he forced himself to move, and he got dressed, grabbed the knife, and hid it behind his back.

You promised.

The words ring in Stiles’ ears, making it impossible to understand anything Theo is saying to soothe him.

Because he’s stuck in the past, stuck with Tara’s fiancé crouching in front of him, smiling as if he’s won their little game. Stiles didn’t smile back. He rammed the knife into his throat instead. He still remembers the feeling of the warm blood on his face just as much as the rage that took a hold of him as he stabbed him twenty-four more times before he collapsed, unable to move for what feels like an eternity.

Just like he is now.

Theo kisses the top of his head. “I’m here,” he whispers reassuringly. “I’m not going to leave, okay?” It’s a promise he’s heard before, a promise that was broken by outside force — it’s a broken promise, nonetheless. But Theo’s arms feel safe, and Stiles wants to believe him, wants to trust that this time nothing is going to come between them again. “How about you go to bed, and I find something to eat for you?”

“Sure,” Stiles whispers, although he’s neither hungry nor tired, however, he’s aware when people need a minute to breathe. Theo’s life has been crumbling too when Stiles was having his mental breakdown. His life will be falling apart for a little longer while the truth carves its place.

Stiles gets to his feet, Theo’s hand secure at the small of his back, and then he crosses the room, alone and feeling just as empty as every single day of his life.

Upstairs, Stiles tosses his clothes in the hamper and slips into his sweatpants. He doesn’t go to bed though, instead he crouches by the opening, listening to Theo looking through his kitchen. For a few moments, that’s all he hears.

Then Theo’s icy voice cuts through the apartment. “I don’t give a shit about how early it is, Tara.”

Stiles swallows and backs away. He should’ve known. Squeezing his eyes shut, Stiles curls into bed, trying his very best to block out Theo’s voice. It should be easy. Theo doesn’t yell when he’s angry after all. But his cold tone crawls into his consciousness, and there is nothing Stiles can do about it.

“You know exactly what video I’m talking about.” A drawer slams shut, the only outbreak Theo will allow himself to have. A Raeken does not lose his temper. They are composed and always in control of the situation. That’s why Theo is made of repressed rage. “Tell me what he did, and don’t you dare lie to me.”

Biting back a sob, Stiles curls into a ball and pulls the blanket over his head. That’s how the monsters stay away. He covers his ears with his hands. That’s how Theo’s words won’t reach him.

That’s how he stays until the mattress dips.

Stiles lowers his arms, moving the blanket enough that he spots the sandwich Theo placed on his nightstand. He doesn’t say anything, neither does Stiles. Both waiting for what will happen next. Theo told him he wouldn’t leave, but that was something he said before he knew the full extent of what happened.

The mattress dips again. This time, Theo is crawling into bed with him, slipping under the blanket and back into his life as he wraps an arm around Stiles’ middle. His warmth and body are familiar, safe, a remnant from a time that was easier, happier, hopeful.

Sleep refuses to come regardless. Theo doesn’t fall asleep either, Stiles can tell by the way his body never fully relaxes, and how he tries to breathe softly enough as if not to startle him. With the truth out in the open, Theo considers him fragile. Stiles wonders what the world would think about him if they knew the whole story.

When the first rays of sunshine find their way into his bedroom, Stiles turns around only to find Theo already looking back at him. “Hey,” he whispers.

Theo’s eyes crinkle slightly. “Hi.”

Stiles watches as the soft morning light draws patterns on Theo’s cheek. He traces one, unable to stop himself, and smiles as blue eyes flutter shut. He looks peaceful like this, as if nothing bad ever happened in his life. But his body speaks a different language. Stiles trails his fingers down Theo’s chest, eyes never straying from his face when he finds his scars; scars he got because of Stiles, because he’s stubborn and needed to learn which battles to pick.

Before he can talk himself out of it, Stiles kisses Theo. Everything from the shape of his lips to the way they fit against his makes his whole body ache — and Theo kisses him back, arm tightening around his waist. The familiarity is breathtaking. Suddenly, no time has passed. They’re in Stiles’ bedroom, trying to be quiet, trying not to wake his dad.

But when Stiles slips his fingertips underneath the waistband of Theo’s boxer briefs, he grabs his wrist and stops him inches away from his dick. He doesn’t pull away. Not yet, at least. “What are you doing?” he asks, lips moving against Stiles’.

Drown out the memories. Reclaim his past, his body. Trying to be whole. “What do you think?” Stiles replies instead, casual, like this is something that happens every other day. It doesn’t. Not like this. People don’t usually stop him when he tries to hook up with them. Usually, they can’t fuck him fast enough. Theo used to be like that. He couldn’t get inside him fast enough, and usually, he enjoyed his afterglow still buried deep inside of him.

This is new.

Stiles doesn’t like new.

Theo pulls away, not far, just enough to study his face. “Stiles…”

“I’m not broken.” Stiles dragged himself out of the gutter too many times to be broken. He won’t deny that he’s damaged, but he is fine. After all, he has survived so far – and most of it, he did on his own. Stiles doesn’t need to be coddled, especially not by Theo; not years after everything has already blown up in their faces. 

Smiling, Theo brushes his thumb over the back of Stiles’ neck. A soothing gesture. The exact opposite of what he needs. “I know.”

“Do you?” Stiles yanks his hand free and sits up, anger and shame and desperation swirling inside of him. This is why he fucks strangers. Commitment causes issues. Commitment means people look at him and see him for how fucked up he really is. Commitment means allowing someone in the way he let Theo in, and Stiles can’t go through that again. “Maybe you should leave.” Stiles closes his eyes and falls back into the mattress.

Theo rolls over and leans over him. “I don’t think so,” he whispers before bending down again and crashes their mouths together. It’s too hard, a bit to clumsy, not the way Theo would usually kiss him. But there’s something desperate in the way clings to him; almost like he’s afraid that if he lets go, Stiles will force him out.

Perhaps he would.

But Stiles is just as desperate for this than Theo. “Good,” he mutters into the kiss, pushing a hand between them again. This time, Theo doesn’t stop him when he reaches for his dick. “Then fuck me like you mean it.”

Theo shudders above him, either because of his words or because Stiles is dragging his thumb over the tip of his dick. He still remembers what Theo enjoys, what gets him hard the fastest, how to wrap him around his little finger and make him cum so hard he forgets his own name. Today, however, isn’t about Theo.

And Theo is aware of that.

He pulls away and grabs Stiles’ waist, easily turning him onto his stomach. “Lube,” he commands in a low voice as he pulls him onto his knees. There’s nothing particularly gentle about it, not his touch, not the way he opens Stiles’ pants and yanks them over his ass, or the way presses a finger against his rim.

This time, Stiles shudders and closes his eyes. It’s easy to forget how well Theo knows his body too. He needs a few seconds to remember that he’s supposed to grab lube. Although Stiles doesn’t take anyone home with him, he keeps a bottle of lube in the box next to the bed. He pushes the lid open just enough to push his hand in, fingers brushing over pill bottles before he manages to fish out the lube, which he tosses unceremoniously at Theo.

The hands vanish from his ass, and Stiles uses the time to get rid of his clothes. In his hopeless dreams, his reunion with Theo always ended up being a bit softer, full of longing and love. There’s love still, somewhere deep inside of him, but as of right now, there’s lust and despair, the desire to drown with hard sex what he’d usually use pills for.

Theo’s hand returns, grip tight on his hip and stilling Stiles, as two wet fingers push against his rim without any hesitation. He pushes into him until his second knuckle, making a sound that’s somewhere between annoyance and want. It’s not too hard to figure out that Theo’s thoughts are wandering to what he saw earlier tonight.

‘Your fault,’ Stiles wants to say, but he merely groans and pushes his face into his pillow. “Warn a guy,” he utters against the fabric, sounding way too breathless already. They’ve barely started.

Theo huffs and pulls his fingers back. There is even less softness now that Theo is clearly pissed off at Stiles sleeping around – as if he has any right to be angry or hurt. Nobody forced him to watch. He’s free to leave. But he doesn’t. He stays and buries himself in Stiles with a quiet grunt. When they’re pressed together so close nothing could fit between them, Theo stills, and Stiles reminds himself to breathe because he forgot how good it felt to have Theo inside him.

There used to be a time when Stiles could relax like this after a stressful day. Sometimes, he even managed to fall asleep with Theo balls deep inside of him – for a while, at least. Usually, he woke up to his boyfriend’s resolve breaking.

Ex-boyfriend.

Stiles licks his lips and looks over his shoulder, watching Theo staring down at him. “Do you need any help?” he asks and quirks a brow. “Or are you going to fuck me anytime soon?”

For a few heavy heartbeats, Theo simply looks at him, eyes almost searching for something. His lips curl into a disapproving line as he isn’t successful – and then he pulls back, only to snap his hips forward in a way that’s so familiar, so achingly hard, so right. Theo fucks him confidently and without further hesitation. His mouth explores every inch of Stiles’ body he cans reach – as if he doesn’t know him inside out. His fingers leave marks, reclaiming ownership of something he thought has left him.

But it’s worse.

Someone stole it.

The desperation and anger are clear in every thrust, in the way his fingers press into his skin, short nails digging in enough to leave little half-moons.

It’s hurts just right. The edge of pain making him harder than he’s been in the past few years – since he’s lost Theo. There could probably something be said about him, said about the way this type of sex feels so much better than all the other random hook-ups with strangers in the back of his bar. Maybe it’s the pain, or maybe it’s simply Theo; his body remembering everything.

His name rolls over Theo’s tongue, and this hurts in a different way. It cuts deeper, memories cursing him, a future that could never be trying to drag him under.

Stiles bites into his pillow and squeezes his eyes shut, trying to match Theo’s thrust as best as he can. Although he doesn’t have to do much. The hands holding his waist in an iron grip are doing the work for him. They’re having sex, yes, but in a way, they both are chasing their very own needs that simply seem to line up in some way.

Theo keeps fucking him in the same all but violent pace. Hips snapping forward, slapping against his own with an almost obscene sound, and nailing his prostate with almost every thrust.

Stiles spits the pillow out, propping himself up enough that he can see. A gasp escapes him, every sound punched out of him by Theo's dick. He grabs his own, fingers cool against the hot skin. Opening his mouth, Stiles watches the muscles in Theo’s thighs work, how his fingers dig deeper into his skin – as if he’s scared, he might vanish. Theo is chasing something, something he lost years ago, something Stiles gave away to protect him.

Part of him hopes he’ll find it again.

Maybe it’s better if he doesn’t.

Squeezing his eyes closed, Stiles moves his hands up and down his dick, fingers tightening near the tip. He’s chasing his release, the moments of freedom it gives him from his thoughts.

His muscles tighten when Theo’s thrust turn shallow, more irregular, and he’s so fucking close to cum. But Theo beats him to it. He moans his name, a sound somewhere between a curse and a moan.

Stiles cusses under his breath, struggling to keep up on his legs and arm with Theo’s weight splayed on top of him. He’s jerking himself off, desperate for his orgasm. His brain all but short-circuits when it finally hits him. For a few blissful moments, Stiles is in heaven – no thoughts, no memories, just his body, unchained.

Perhaps that’s part of the reason he’s chasing this so much.

But the return to earth is never fun.

This time, however, Stiles feels Theo’s hands brushing over his sides, his mouth placing soft kisses over his back, on his shoulders, the very bottom of the nape of his neck. He’s also still buried deep inside of him.

Stiles lets out a breath. For the first time, he prefers that his hook up hasn’t moved an inch. He embraces the weight of his body on top of his, although he’s gained some muscles in the past few years while Stiles isn’t much more than skin and bones. “Theo,” he says anyway, trying to get the word ‘move’ out of his mouth but it refuses to pass his lips. Things can’t be like they were before. Theo can promise him to stay all he wants, too much has happened, too much has changed. Stiles is too much.

But he can’t bring himself to end it.

Very carefully, Theo eases them both on their sides without pulling out. “What happens now?”

Stiles closes his eyes. So much for his afterglow. “You go back to being a football star, I go back to fucking myself up further. Everyone’s happy.” The lie burns on his tongue, but it’s easier to pretend than to open himself up emotionally only to lose Theo again. He’s not going to survive that. It’ll be a miracle if he survives this night.

“What if I don’t want that?” Theo runs his left hand up his chest, resting it above his heart. “I didn’t come here to walk away from you again.” His breath is hot on the back of his neck, the arm around him pulling him closer. 

Despite himself, Stiles grabs Theo’s hand and intertwines their fingers. It comes so easy, so natural. “You don’t want that.” He would like to pretend it’s more instinct than his fear of losing Theo as well. Everything with Theo feels so natural, like nothing ever happened, like they’ve never been apart for even a fucking second. “My life’s a shitshow, and the world’s going to drag you into it.” I’m going to drag you into it a nightmare.

Theo kisses his shoulder. “I don’t care.”

“Don’t—“ There’s a part of him that wants to pull away, to get out of bed, but Stiles doesn’t want to lose the feeling of Theo against his back or his dick inside of him – despite a bit of cum sticking to his thigh, cooling against his skin.

“I promised we’d get through this together,” Theo whispers, running his fingers up and down Stiles’ sternum.

“It wasn’t your fault.” Even though it still feels like it. Five years of believing Theo simply dropped him aren’t going to vanish overnight. Stiles places his hand on top of Theo’s again, squeezing his fingers tightly.

Theo kisses his shoulder, lips curling into a smile against his skin. “I’m never going to leave you again.”

“It’s not worth it.” Stiles can see the headlines, can already tell what the world is going to think if their golden boy is seen with him. The stories they spin. They’re going to dig deep. They’re going to find out Theo’s been there too; keeping his name out of the media is the one thing Stiles and the Raekens could agree on.

But Theo pulls him closer, body so warm and safe and comforting. “You’re worth it. You’re worth everything and more.” 

Stiles hums and closes his eyes, allowing himself to believe Theo.

At least for one day.

---

[sapphireginger]

Steo Day 2023: Fighting for Love

Happy Steo Dady 2023 Everyone!!!

@steodiscord

Summary:

Scott stared at Stiles like he had never seen him before. “So that’s it? You love him and therefore you condone his actions?!” “Better to condone than condemn. Some of us have to get our hands dirty when others of us…” he sneered, giving Scott a significant look. “…refuse to dip their toes into the morally gray area. It’s where I live Scotty and if you can’t accept that, then I guess yeah, that’s that.”

Stiles sat at his desk, feeling numb. He couldn’t believe what had just happened, but he knew he wouldn’t forget it any time soon. He closed his eyes and let the conversation from not more than an hour ago echo in his mind. 

“How can you defend him, Stiles?!" Scott demanded. "Your so called boyfriend tried to dissemble when I asked if he had killed Donovan, but the blood on his hands gave him away despite his denial."

With a serious expression on his face, paired with a sharp smile, Stiles looked up and didn’t cower in the face of Scott’s rage. "Why do any of us do anything? For love of course and Theo killing Donovan saved my life. So, of course, I'm glad he killed him and he told me right after he did it. What were you hoping to achieve by telling me this huh? Did you think I'd leave him or condemn him? Well, I won't because love is a battlefield and sometimes you pay with the blood of others or with blood of your own.”

Scott stared at Stiles like he had never seen him before. “So that’s it? You love him and therefore you condone his actions?!”

“Better to condone than condemn. Some of us have to get our hands dirty when others of us…” he sneered, giving Scott a significant look. “…refuse to dip their toes into the morally gray area. It’s where I live Scotty and if you can’t accept that, then I guess yeah, that’s that.”

Both teens were silent, the tension stifling until Scott flashed his eyes and shook his head as he took a step back. “Fine. I know how stubborn you can be. So I know you’ve made your decision but when the day comes where he breaks your heart, just remember I told you so and I won’t be there for you. For all I know he may kill you too.”

Stiles’s hands balled into fists and he snorted. “He won’t. You don’t know him.” Stiles scoffed, letting out a bitter laugh. “I think out of the two of us, we both know you’re not the one who’s there for people, Scott.”

Scott roared at him and in the blink of an eye, the pack bond snapped, leaving Stiles to cry out in pain. He collapsed to the ground shivering and shaking at the hollow feeling in his chest. “Scott?” he said, barely audible had it not been for the alpha’s supernatural hearing. 

“You’re no longer a member of my pack, Stiles. I won’t have someone in my pack who is in love with a murderer. I won’t endanger them. You made your choice. This is mine.” With that, the alpha disappeared out the window, ignoring his former friend’s tears and whimpers of pain. He had a pack to look after and to protect. 

Stiles felt a hand on his shoulder, gently squeezing, and let the feeling anchor him to the present. His mind left the memory behind him as he turned in his desk chair to meet blue eyes full of concern. “Theo.”

“Hey, Bambi,” Theo whispered. He stepped forward when Stiles encircled his arms around the coyote’s waist and kissed the amber eyed teen’s forehead. “I’m not sorry I killed him but I am sorry about Scott.”

“Scott’s an asshole.”

Theo huffed. “No arguments here but he’s an idiot as well. That pack won’t last without its heart.”

Stiles looked up at the man he loved and tilted his head, resting his cheek against Theo’s stomach. “Its heart?”

“Mhm. You. Stiles, you’re the heart of that pack, the glue, the one who brought everyone together and kept everyone together. They’ll learn that the hard way and by the time they finally figure it out, it’ll be too late.”

“Did you hear back from Brett?”

Theo nodded. “Yes. He and Satomi have a place for us to stay and we are already enrolled at Devenford Prep.”

Stiles chuckled. “Look at us, going to a fancy private school all because I’m in love with you and my best—ex-best friend—won’t accept it.”

“His loss, my gain,” Theo replied with a smirk though his eyes held understanding and empathy. 

For a moment, Stiles hesitated to say the words on the tip of his tongue, but he chose to be brave. “I love you, Thumper.”

Theo inhaled sharply, his breath hitching almost painfully and he cupped Stiles’s cheeks, using his thumbs to brush the tears away. “Oh Bambi. I love you too.”

“Yeah?” Stiles said, his voice breathy and shaky. 

“Yeah.”

They stared at each other for what felt like hours, eventually migrating to the bed and curling up together. As Theo slipped into a doze, he heard the man he loved singing under his breath so softly that he could barely make out the words but he heard enough to understand a lot about the other teen’s state of being. 

Why does love always feel like a battlefield? A battlefield, a battlefield, a battlefield  Why does love always feel like a battlefield? Guess you better go and get your armor. 

Theo pressed a kiss to Stiles’s forehead, his nose, the corners of his eyes and then hovered an inch from pressing their lips together. 

Stiles’s honey eyes were glistening with tears as he met Theo’s eyes, a shade akin to light and pale Lapis Lazuli gemstones. “I never meant to start a war,” he whispered, his breath rattling in his chest. “You know I never wanna hurt you.”

“I know, Bambi,” Theo said, enveloping the mole spotted teen in a fierce and protective embrace. “I know.” 

Since they were transferring schools, neither of them had to go to school tomorrow and then it was the weekend anyway. So, after texting his dad, Stiles curled into Theo’s chest and sighed. He was determined to stay in this bubble of safety and love for as long as possible. 

Stiles felt rubbed raw, drained, flayed and exhausted. His heart hurt and his chest was empty of all but a single pack bond, a pack bond with Theo. Hot tears kept burning his eyes and he had to close his eyes in order to let the tears finally fall. He was grateful that Theo didn’t bring attention to it and simply held him tighter. He owed Theo a new shirt for how snotty and gross this one was getting but right now neither of them cared. 

Everything was going to change now, well almost everything. They’d be going to a new school, joining a new pack, moving to a new house—Sheriff Stilinski remaining here—making new friends and more. However, as Stiles slowly fell asleep, he knew one thing wouldn’t change, and that was Theo. He loved Theo, had fought for that love and as he told Scott, love was like a battlefield. You either pay with your own blood or someone else’s blood. Both Stiles and Theo have paid with blood. They’ve paid with their own blood and with the blood of someone else. 

✶ ⚔️ ❤︎ ⚔️ ✶

✶ ⚔️ ❤︎ ⚔️ ✶

[steoevents]

STEO DAY

Guess what? It’s almost June, and that means our fourth annual SteoDay is around the corner! We can’t believe it’s almost three years since we had our first SteoDay. We’re even more excited to bring it back! Just like last time, this event takes place on Thursday, 06/29/2023! 

Previously, our prompts were  ‘At First Sight’ & ‘Written in the Stars’ & ‘Enemies to Lovers’ because June 29 was the day Theo and Stiles first met on screen. This time, we chose the following theme: 

Fighting for Love

Are you thinking of the incredible lengths Stiles and Theo are willing to go to fight for their love. It's not just about physical battles; it's about overcoming emotional obstacles and defying the odds that stand in their way. Create whatever your heart desires! But since this prompt/theme is optional, you can choose a different one as well. There are no limits to your creativity! This also means that we accept every contribution - gifs, incorrect quotes, drabbles, fanfictions, aesthetics, everything.

Mention us @steoevents in your posts and tag with #SteoDay, but we also highly encourage you to submit the link to your post to us via blog submission just in case. We all know how much Tumblr likes its tags. It’s always better to be safe than sorry! Also, if you have any questions, you can shoot us an ask as well. We’ll make sure to get back to you as quickly as possible! 

We can’t wait to see what you’re coming up with!

If you would like to join our team of dedicated Steo Day Rebloggers, please sign up here!

Your @steoevents Mods,

@msmischief101 & @theoraeken

[bullet-prooflove]

Luke Alvez Masterlist

Living With Luke Alvez - Luke Alvez

Luke Alvez Proposes - Luke Alvez

White Picket Fence - You and Luke discuss the reality of a white picket fence.

Monday Left Me Broken  - You get a suprise when you steo outside the front door.

Run - Luke is the worst profiler.

Nightmare - Luke knows when you've had a nightmare.

The Perfect Moment (NSFW) - Luke knows there's never a perfect moment.

Midnight Tiptoe - Luke doesn't want you to be alone.

Rough - Luke needs something special after a bad day.

Play - Luke has a special request.

Wishes - Luke wishes he never fell in love with you.

Series:

The Missing Piece Series:

Part One: The Missing Piece

Part Two: Cabin in the Woods

Part Three: - Whatever You Need

Part Four: Just Me 

5 Sentences:

“I’ve never heard anything better than the way you cry out my name.”

“Fuck, you sound good. You like it when I kiss you there?” 

Kiss you in a crowded room

Pack your bags up and leave

7 Minutes of Heaven (NSFW)

[mercheswan]

Steo Day: Fight for love

Stiles wanted to be a crimes reporter, but to get that position he needs to prove his boss that he is good at what he does.

When he is offered the chance to cover up a wrestling championship. He is not very thrilled, he couldn’t care less about the sport, but he will write the best freaking wrestling article that his boss has ever seen.

He expected everything to be professional. Observe the matches, go back home to write. Stiles was not expecting to meet Theo.

Theo seemed like bad news, but he was so enthralling and mesmerizing to watch, not only because he was hot as hell, but because of the way he moved. He was elegant, yet violent at the same time, and Stiles was not ashamed to admit that it turned him on a little bit.

Theo took an interest in him as well, and things evolved to way past professional. That’s how Stiles finds out that Theo is not supposed to be fighting any more, a bad hit to his head could cause his instant death. Stiles doesn’t understand why would he take the risk, but Theo is determined to win and give his all.

Wresting has become a much serious sport to Stiles. A fight for love.

[wheredidhiseyebrowsgo]

I read this fic a few days ago but evidently didn’t save it, but I’m fairly sure it’s Steo and there’s a scene where they’re in a restaurant of some kind, and the waitress/waiter is kind of hesitant to approach their table because they seem like they’re about to attack each other.

I couldn't find it. If anyone recognizes it send me an ask or IM. Thank you!

[jimmy12427]

Stiles & Theo got off on the wrong foot. If a gun wasn't pointed at his head, it'd be funny. All this because Stiles had overheard something that wasn't about him but he thought it was.

Theo was a charmer. He had a silver tongue & had talked his way out of worse situations. Stiles was cute.

5 min later Theo had straightened out the miscommunication & was on his way to bed. With Stiles. This had been brewing for months.

From enemies to lovers.

To bed buddies. And Stiles wasn't disappointed when Theo worked out & flaunted his muscles & went shirtless.

@steoevents @steodiscord