#steo spooktober vol.4 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

amatchinwater · 2 years

Text

Pairing: Steo

Characters: Stiles Stilinski, Theo Raeken, Isaac Lahey

Words: 3177

Prompt: @steodiscord Steo Spooktober Scare Dare, I wanted to do more, but here we are.

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There's No Such Thing as Werewolves

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There’s few things in life that Stiles can say no to. A dare certainly isn’t one of them. In fact, that’s a guarantee to make sure Stiles does something. His best friend Isaac daring him to walk through the preserve alone with nothing but a flashlight wasn’t going to scare him off. Stiles can’t turn down a challenge. Plenty of teenagers have done it. Hell, it’s almost something of a tradition in Beacon Hills. Kids daring their friends to take a moonlight stroll.

Because there’s something different about the woods in his town. Supposedly, it’s full of feral supernatural creatures like werewolves and coyotes. While Stiles has never seen any for himself, his father has gotten plenty of calls at the station about it. Snarling sounds and four-legged creatures with glowing eyes chasing them. His dad mostly thought they were prank calls. But eventually enough parents raised a fuss about it that the preserve is now off limits at night.

Good thing Stiles doesn’t plan on getting caught. He’s going to waltz through the preserve until Isaac tells him to stop. And since he has no sense of direction during the day, Stiles is going to use his phone’s GPS to get back out. He also can’t wait to shove it in Isaac’s face that there’s no such thing as werewolves. His best friend swears up and down that he saw red, glowing eyes when Jackson made him go over the summer.

Stiles is a logical being, he knows that most animal’s eyes reflect light when it’s dark, making it appear like they’re glowing. Filled with anxiety and adrenaline, Isaac probably only thought they were red. Just fear messing with your brain and making you see things that aren’t there. It makes sense. It’s logical.

Occam’s Razor, the simplest explanation is often the right one.

“So how long do I have to do this for?” Stiles asks, getting out of the passenger seat.

“Why?” Isaac’s head pops up above the car. Leaning on the roof, he drums his hands, “scared already?”

Stiles couldn’t roll his eyes harder if he tried, “no, jackass. I’m not scared. I would like to make it home before my dad does.”

The cheeky grin on his best friend’s face falls a bit, “okay, yeah. That’s a fair point. I’ll check on you in an hour. That’ll give you enough time in there and plenty to get home.” Isaac gives him a look that he can’t quite read. Almost weary. “Watch your step,” his best friend offers before disappearing back into his car.

If you’re going to be all worried about it now, maybe you shouldn’t have dared him in the first place. With a sigh, Stiles checks his phone, the digital numbers telling him it’s eleven-fifteen. His father should be home somewhere around two. Time to get this over with. Tapping the button on the screen, Stiles turns on his flashlight and steps into the preserve. It’s quieter than he thought it’d be. Then again, if some giant beast with a beam of light was trampling through his home, Stiles would cease all movement and sound too. He walks on a little mindful of where he steps in case there’s an actual animal trying to sleep.

Three times.

Stiles has nearly killed himself tripping over a root three fucking times. The light from his phone is only doing so much and the full moon isn’t making it through the thick trees. Fuck the streetlights, he stopped seeing light from that who knows how far back. Forget the werewolves, if Stiles dies tonight, it’s going to be from his severe lack of coordination. This was such a stupid idea. Luckily, his GPS will be able to lead him back because retracing his steps is going to be next to impossible.

A racoon darts in front of him. “Jesus!” Stiles shrieks, nearly dropping his phone on the ground when he jumps. He laughs to himself, palm on his chest as he tries to calm his heart. It was just a fucking racooon. Racoons are normal to see at nighttime. Man, he’s gotta get a grip on himself.

Checking his phone again, Stiles notices two things. One, it’s now midnight. His hour is almost up. Which is great because if he almost kisses one more fucking spider, he’s going to freak out. The second makes him groan in annoyance. A great big, red ‘x’ where his signal bars should be stares him in the face. It’s a good thing Isaac told him how long because it’s not like Stiles can get or make calls right now.

“Fucking fantastic,” Stiles grumbles to himself. Fuck this, he shines his light around trying to figure out if he should keep going. No. He’s heading back. With no service, if Stiles gets hurt, he’s fucked. His father will definitely kill him if he gets hurt over a fucking dare. Turning on his heel, Stiles scrolls through his phone to pull up his GPS so he can get the hell out of here.

Not thinking about it, when the page opens, it doesn’t load. “Fuck,” he draws out the worn on a groan, hanging his head back. “Of course the GPS won’t work. There’s no signal, dumbass.” Stiles curses to himself again, stomping- hopefully- back the way he came. Maybe if he gets back far enough, he’ll pick up signal again. Especially because after a minute or two of walking, an uncomfortable shiver works its way down his spine.

He’s being watched.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Stiles scoffs, “nothing is out here but pissed off squirrels because you woke them up.” A twig snaps behind him. Stiles pauses for the smallest of seconds. Hair rises on the back of his neck. He doesn’t like this at all. Stiles walks a little faster, “nope. Not about to get impaled by a deer for you, Is. If I got too close to your family, I’m sorry,” he says as though the animal will understand. “I didn’t mean to. I just can’t see shit.” Maybe it’s mostly to calm his nerves from irrational thought.

Another twig snaps and something snarls.

Deer definitely don’t make that sound.

Fear freezes Stiles’ body in place despite his brain screaming at him to run. The sound happens again. A bit softer this time. More like a growled warning. No idea how he knows that except that he just does. Stiles gets the scary feeling that if he takes another step, he’s dead. But he can’t just not move. So against his better judgment- maybe some part of him wants to see if he can fight it off or outrun it- Stiles slowly turns around. No sudden movements, just carefully see- a black wolf with red glowing eyes is staring right at him.

“Oh my god,” Stiles shouts, turning and running in the other direction.

A vicious roar sounds off behind him, vibrating his chest. That shouldn’t be that loud. That should not be that fucking loud. His lungs ache, burn in their desperate attempt to keep him moving. To get Stiles away from the danger that is undoubtedly getting closer. He can feel it breathing down his neck. That also shouldn’t be possible.

If Jackson could see him now. Running blindly through the dark faster than ever and not falling over. He’d make first line for sure.

The wolf nips at his heel. Not enough to hurt; another warning. How does he just know this? The action was enough to spook him though, causing Stiles to lose his balance. Tumbling face first into the dirt with a hard thud. He groans, spitting out dirt and rubbing his nose. He’s going to die. Stiles is going to die because of a stupid dare. There’s no chance to scramble to his feet to try and run away again. The wolf has a hold of his ankle. Sharp fangs simply prevent escape, they’re not even breaking skin.

When it lets go, the wolf snorts, nudging Stiles’ leg. When he doesn’t move, the wolf does it again, clear in its intention for him to roll over. He shouldn’t. Stiles is more than aware that he shouldn’t. Wiping the dirt from his chin, he rolls onto his back. No sooner is he flat against the earth is the wolf on top of him. Towering over him with a paw on either side of Stiles’ face, fully encasing his body.

Without the help of his phone, that fell who knows where, the only thing Stiles can really see are the scarlet orbs watching him. The branches of the trees are a little more sparse, so some moonlight trickles through. It’s not nearly enough. All he can properly make out are those eyes just observing him. Why is the wolf just looking at him? Shouldn’t it be eating him by now? His heart is making a valiant attempt at escaping his chest currently. Stiles doesn’t have the first clue what he’s supposed to do.

He wiggles, just a tiny bit, only trying to get the twig that’s digging into his spine to move so that he can think straight. Which was exactly the wrong thing to do. The wolf snarls, fangs wrapping around Stiles’ throat, breaking the skin just a touch. Enough that it stings. Frozen. Stiles freezes on the spot. Other than the small tremors of fear wracking his frame, Stiles doesn’t move a muscle. Doesn’t even breathe. He falls completely pliant to the wolf.

He’s so fucked.

But the wolf, seemingly satisfied with the submission, releases him at least. Rearing its head back, it howls at the sky. Stiles hasn’t the slightest idea what that could mean. But it can’t be good. Wolves howl to signal their location to the rest of the pack. Did it just tell the others where to find dinner?

Oh god.

The wolf ducks its head, cold nose bumping Stiles’ sweat-slick, hammering pulse. Then it licks him. Long tongue brushing along his skin. “H-Hey,” Stiles swats at the wolf. Yes, because he’s not in enough danger he needs to hit the thing and piss it off. “That’s sweat, not real salt. Stop licking me,” he tries to shove the wolf. Let’s try pushing a brick wall next, probably have better luck. “I- I’m skin and bone,” Stiles tries to reason with the wolf, fully processing his ludicrousness. But he just can’t stop. “I’m not a suitable meal, okay?”

The licking doesn’t stop and the wolf huffs in a way that almost sounds like an animal trying to laugh. Which is even more ridiculous. But then, the tongue gets shorter, the weight on him heavier as the licks turn to nips and a mouth sucking against his skin. What the- Stiles moans, blunt teeth biting the crook of his neck.

“Not a meal, sweetheart,” a- very attractive- male’s voice chuckles. Now is really not the time to be thinking about how good his voice is. Stiles’ limbs lock up, working much better than his brain. This can’t be happening. “A mate. Mine,” he rumbles, stubble burning Stiles’ neck.

This isn’t happening.

Yeah, that’s it. When Stiles fell, he must’ve hit his head too hard and is now unconscious whilst being eaten. That’s totally it. His brain providing some weird dream so he doesn’t feel himself being torn apart.

Another moan tears through Stiles’ throat. The guy pushing his hips down until Stiles’ legs open. Allowing him to grind his very hard dick against Stiles.

“Not a dream, sweetheart,” the once wolf mumbles, hands curling into the hem of Stiles’ shirt.

Warm fingers brush his skin and Stiles is painfully aware of the fact that he’s just letting this happen. Fangs graze the crook of his neck, biting into his skin until he feels a little trickle, “no,” Stiles shoves the guy’s chest, surprised when he actually backs off.

“But I thought- you ran,” he says, like that’s an explanation.

“Yeah, I ran,” Stiles sits up, scooting back for good measure. His hand comes up to his neck, grateful that there’s only a little wetness to his fingers. “A wolf was trying to eat me, of course I ran. I was terrified! You snuck up on me.” His eyes have mostly adjusted to the dark. Not enough to see completely, but he can more or less make out the guy- the very naked guy- across from him. The shadows cover the important bits. But not his face, which as gorgeous as it is, looks extremely upset.

For no reason Stiles can place, he’s put off by the fact that the guy is upset. And the fact that Stiles isn’t more upset that he was bitten hard enough to draw blood. Stiles realizes that he should certainly be more put out about this whole thing. But he has this weird curiosity. More wanting to know what the fuck is going on than he is concerned about his wellbeing. None of it makes any sense, but that’s all Stiles currently has to offer.

“No, no, I didn’t,” he scoots barely an inch closer. “I snapped that twig so you’d know exactly where I was. You didn’t see me, so I broke another one.” Bangs flop over his eyes when he shakes his head, “I’d never want to scare you, sweetheart.”

“Okay, that too,” Stiles holds a hand up, “I don’t even know your name and yet you keep calling me sweetheart. You don’t know me.”

The guy takes a deep breath. Not from irritation, like he’s trying to keep himself in control. The ruby color keeps flickering too. “Theo,” he says, hands digging into his thighs in efforts not to move. “My name’s Theo. And you’re my mate.”

“How do you know what?” Stiles scoffs, “I don’t even know what that means!”

“Think of it like a soulmate. All supernatural creatures know their mates by scent,” Theo explains. “I snapped the twing so that I could shift and talk to you about it. But then you ran,” the word is growled, emphasized by the glowing red color intensifying. Theo shakes his head again.

“Who in their right mind wouldn’t run from a snarling wolf?” Stiles slaps his thighs, utterly exasperated with the other guy’s reaction. “I thought I was going to die!”

“Running is considered an invitation to werewolves,” Theo states. He must see the crickets chirping in Stiles’ brain because the wolf continues, “think of it like a challenge. Someone wanting to see if the other is worthy enough of being their mate by giving chase. Seeing if their mate can catch them.”

“So me running away-”

“Kicked in every single instinct I have to claim my mate. It’s done with a bite to your neck. And don’t worry, my fangs didn’t go in far enough.” Theo’s nails dig into his thighs again, “but it’s why it’s incredibly hard for me to just sit here while you’re all the way over there-” okay, he’s like two feet away max- “smelling like someone else.” Stiles can’t even begin to unpack that. “It’s even worse because of the full moon. It heightens everything. But, as much as it pisses my wolf off, I’m not going to force you into anything. Just because I’m a werewolf doesn’t mean I’m an animal.”

Which is very true. Theo listened to him when he said no. But Stiles can’t shake the feeling of wanting to make Theo feel better. Happy. Can’t shake the annoyance that he’s the cause of Theo’s distress. Even more so that given what he’s seen so far, Stiles is inclined to believe him. He’s smart as hell. Stiles isn’t going to ignore evidence when it’s laid out right in front of him.

“So, does that mean you don’t live out here in the woods?”

“What? No,” Theo almost laughs, finally looking at him again. “I live in town. Graduated early and now I’m working towards getting my degree online. I wanted to be able to stay closer to my pack. Helps the bond.”

Stiles looks at Theo. Really looks at him. He’s very easy on the eyes. Which is a nice bonus to be honest. And he hasn’t really done anything to hurt him. Stiles honestly doesn’t think he could. Which is just another thing. Throughout this entire ordeal, Stiles had had this intuition about everything. Theo warning him proved to be true. Theo trying to keep himself in control was also correct. Almost like Stiles had instincts of his own.

Meanwhile Theo is consistently fighting his own to ensure Stiles’ comfort and safety. The wolf finally notices that he’s under the microscope, “why are you looking at me like that?”

With the way Theo is trying so hard not to do something, this is probably a stupid idea. But he’s finding it hard to care. It’s not like his love life has been particularly fruitful. A hot guy telling him that they’re basically meant to be together can’t be all that bad. Right? “I’m Stiles,” he says, extending his hand to shake.

“I’m sorry,” Theo preemptively says, reaching out and yanking Stiles into his lap. Stiles will absolutely deny the way he squawks from the action. Strong arms wrap around his frame, holding him close. Theo tucks his nose under Stiles’ jaw, inhaling his scent deeply while rumbling in his chest. “It’s really hard to control,” the wolf says, fangs grazing the crook of Stiles’ neck. “Just,” Theo takes a controlled breath and his arms loosen, “there,” he says, letting go.

Stiles doesn’t get up. Rather adjusts himself so he’s not crushing the wolf’s crotch, “it’s okay.” Theo’s head snaps up at his words, arms locking around him again, brows raised. “I’m not saying let’s run away and be mates. But I’m,” Stiles loops his arm over Theo’s shoulder, “I’m saying it’s okay. I mean, you’re pretty hot,” he quirks his brows, hoping humor as a coping mechanism works for the wolf too.

Theo laughs, resting his forehead in his neck, “I could court you,” the wolf says. Stiles makes a noise that sounds something close to ‘um’ but it was really mostly a noise. “Dating, Stiles. It’s like dating. I won’t go full tradition on you, but,” Theo lifts his head, their noses brushing, “I’d like to court you. Prove that I’m worthy to be your mate.”

“I think I’d like that,” Stiles says with a smile.

“It’s for life, you know,” Theo’s hands tighten around his sides, but he’s whispering to, staring at Stiles’ mouth. His excitement is crystal clear, no matter how much the wolf tries to hide it.

He pulls a face like he’s thinking about it, “we’re basically made for each other, right?”

Theo nods, “that’s what mates means, yes,” tone teasing and husky.

“Then yeah,” Stiles bumps their noses together, “I’m saying you can court me.”

Smiling back, Theo crashes their mouths together. Stiles would’ve gladly reciprocated the kiss had he not been so surprised. The wolf pulls back, “sorry,” gasping for air.

Just as breathless, Stiles chuckles, “it’s okay,” and seals their mouths together again.

#teen wolf #steo #stiles stilinski #theo raeken #theo x stiles #stiles x theo #steo spooktober vol.4 #scare dare #Match Writes

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