#Agent!Stiles

[dropofbittersea]

He’d just set it back down when the door opened, and a shadow appeared in front of him, taking the seat across from him. Jackson’s name was on his lips as he rose his gaze from his drink, but the word stuck in his throat, because it wasn’t Jackson.

“I’m really sorry, can you be my boyfriend?” Derek asked breathlessly, panic on his face and looking seconds away from losing his shit.

Stiles didn’t even have the chance to reply, because the second he saw crazy lady walk into the coffee shop, he just immediately leaned over the table and planted a kiss right on Derek’s lips. The other man seemed startled, but he recovered quickly and brought one hand up to press against Stiles’ cheek.

He made sure to keep the kiss short, and relatively chaste, because this was all for show and he didn’t want to make Derek more uncomfortable than he already was.

[christinesficrecs]

Hi! Do you know of a fic where Stiles finds this really old painting that reminds him of Derek (or was done by one of his ancestors or something) in an old antique shop while out with Lydia? Its set when Stiles is about to go to FBI training I think and Derek lives somewhere random like Denver. They have this long distance correspondence going on and Derek sends Stiles vouchers to places and care packages and in the end when Stiles graduates from the academy he doesn't invite Derek to the ceremony because he's afraid he'll be stationed somewhere far off and then goes to apologise to Derek and tell him why (and Derek says he'd follow Stiles wherever he went but it turns out Stiles gets assigned the city Derek's living in).

I do!

The Start of Our Forever by  Cobrilee | 20.5K | Explicit

Stiles is ready to get out of Beacon Hills and start his new life, free of the supernatural. A random discovery in an antique store in Denver proves you can never leave it all behind… and encourages him to find it again. What ensues is four and a half years of pining, self-discovery, personal growth, a whole hell of a lot of love, and a realization that nightmares can still become fairy tales (happily-ever-afters included).

[jade-bright]

I think this is my first Stilinski-Hale Family incorrects quote?

Derek: Stiles, what are you writing Stiles: Hm? Oh, the FBI wants to know what kind of weapons I keep at home. So, I'm letting them know it's private information. Eli, looking over Stiles's shoulder: …Tata. This just says 'Fuck around and find out' in calligraphy.

[kjwaikiki]

You know how Eli looks like Stiles. Well I have a headcanon and it is not that Stiles got pregnant through magic.

My headcanon is simply that Eli’s mom looked a lot like Stiles, which could be considered a little mundane until you consider the comedy involved with a stepdad Stiles and Eli being out together in public.

People assume Stiles is Eli’s biological father until one of them corrects said person. I want it to be Eli in which case he can go two ways (both are hilarious)

1. Eli jokes about his dad having a type.

2. Eli jokes about how he always knew his dad and Stiles would get together because look at him (Eli gestures to his own face and then to Stiles) it wasn’t rocket science to figure out the old man was a little hung up on Stiles.

I just think the implications are hilarious. Stiles would never feel insecure ever. If anyone asks him how he remains so secure in his relationship with Derek all he would have to do is gesture to Eli.

All I’m saying is it takes a special type of pining to have a son that looks and acts scarily similar to this one high schooler who you went through multiple brushes with death with, saved their life, had them save your life, and shared many very emotionally charged (possibly tender) moments with.

[imagine-sterek]

Stiles is an amazing liar and in the fbi he really can’t tell people that he spent all of high school fights with werewolves so anytime someone asks anything about him he just gives them a random movie plot and acts like its his life. People don’t really catch on even when he says he helped a town get rid of a dancing ban (footloose) or he spent a summer in time and became a pop star for a while (the Lizzie McGuire movie) or he survived his cruise sinking by floating on a door (titanic). During office parties he invites Derek and his coworkers ask Derek about stiles and he goes along with whatever lie he’s told people. It takes a few years before people catch on.

Rafe is sitting in the background knowing he can’t call Stiles out on the lie, but it takes him forever to work out what movie he’s referencing.

One guy even tracked down the Sheriff and asked him if Stiles really did what he says he did, and his dad goes along with it, telling Titanic guy that Stiles’ friend died in that sinking boat because he knew Stiles couldn’t swim and the door wouldn’t hold both of them, or telling the Footloose guy that he once had to arrest his own son for dancing.

[shadowsndaisies]

death, who?

a/n: staying true to the resolution! the largest folder in my wips is probably the crossovers. way too many possibilities for someone entrenched in too many fandoms. but, nonetheless, here we are. also big shock! i still write for other fandoms, not just dc.

main masterlist

prompt: A; hold on you died?! ... B; yeah, well, it didn't stick.

synopsis: what if a hunt brought you and your older half-brothers and guardians, Sam and Dean Winchester, to Beacon Hills, and what if, you get in a spot of trouble with your new friends, and need to call for a ride.

wc: 2.7k

Black.

Everything is black.

You feel your body being torn apart, excruciatingly slow, and suddenly it all snaps back together, muscles, veins, tendons reconnecting and attaching, skin growing back.

Flashes of light, bright, discombobulating.

And then your eyes open.

You shoot up, bodies hovering over you.

Someone screams, someone else is crying.

You choke on nothing for a second, and then you push yourself back to your feet.

Hands grip onto you, frantic, and finally everything fits back into place.

You blink and turn, coming face to face with two boys. Not your brothers, a piece of you panics, but the memories come quick, and you force yourself to relax.

Stillinski and McCall, your brain supplies as you stare at the two. Both are watching you with wide eyes, lips parted, slightly pale. There’s a girl behind them with tears in her eyes. The redhead, Lydia you mind supplies after a second, looks especially distraught.

The choking feeling comes back and this time when you cough, something falls from your lips, a bullet.

You stare at the brass for a second, “seven fucking hells,” you hiss, bending down and picking up the bullet.

It’s deformed, likely the exact bullet that had killed you mere minutes before. Deformed from where and how it had impacted against your body.

The memory of being shot comes back fast and painful, your whole body flinches as you jerk to check your side. There’s blood, and your brow furrows as you push off your jacket and then pull your shirt off, wiping at your side, until you clear away most of the blood.

No wound.

“(Y/n)?” Stiles’ voice cracks as he says your name, and your head snaps back to the others.

They’re still staring at you like they’re all about to be violently sick.

“Hey,” you say, swallowing thickly as you calm your heart rate.

Who brought you back? No Angels nearby… Crowley didn’t have the pull anymore… Leaving… Billie? Or… Chuck?

You shudder at the thought, you hoped it was Billie.

You reach into your pants pocket, and pull out your phone, but your frown deepens when you realize it’s broken, screen cracked, totally toast— kinda like you were.

“Damn,” you mutter, turning back to the four still staring.

That was a problem.

“Can I borrow a phone?” you ask, voice hoarse, but they’re all still staring at you. You roll your eyes, and snap your fingers startling them. “Phone? Please?”

Lydia reaches a shaky hand into her purse and pulls her out, holding it to you.

You’d just dialed Dean’s number when Scott comes back to himself.

“Hold on,” he begins, “you died,” he states.

Newbies, you scoff internally.

“Yeah, well, it didn’t stick,” you lament, raising the phone to your ear.

It rings, and rings, and keeps ringing, until you’re met with “Agent Plant, FBI, leave a message.”

“Damn it,” you mumble, dialing Sam’s number next

It rings, and rings, and rings…

“Agent Page, FBI, leave a mess-”

You don’t wait for the end of the message, and instead hang up, biting your lip you try the last active number you knew of.

It rings, and rings, and rings…

“This is Agent Jones, FBI. Please leave a message and I will-”

“Chuck’s sake,” you grumble and then freeze. There was more than one way to call Cas.

“Your tattoo is gone,” a voice interrupts and your head whips back over to the other teens.

“Fuck, are you sure?” you ask tilting your shoulder in to look at the blade. “You’re so dead, Chuck, stupid things hurt like a-”

“What is she talking about?” you’re vaguely aware of Stiles’ muttered question, but you force yourself to take a deep breath and refocus on the task at hand.

“You were dead,” Lydia finally speaks up, as you hand her phone back.

“Yes,” you nod.

“We did CPR,” Scott adds on.

“Explains the pain on my ribs,” you note, looking around, eyes perking when you spot your backpack.

“It didn’t work,” Stiles.

“Yup, got that,” you confirm half-heartedly, as you pull open the bag, rummaging through.

“I heard your heart stop,” Scott adds, and you pull a spare t-shirt, the one you’d used for gym class, out triumphantly.

“Make sense, since I was dead,” you nod, tossing the shirt over your shoulder, and looking back into the bag.

“I felt it,” Lydia adds, you shudder slightly at that, Banshee premonitions were an entirely different beast.

“Sorry about that,” you say uncomfortably clearing your throat as you pull out the small container of hand sanitizer.

You grab the bag and walk back over to the other three, they’re still starring wide eyed, and you refrain from rolling your eyes again as you reach down for the bloody shirt. You reach to your ankle and pull out your switchblade, using it to cut up the shirt, taking the clean parts, and then dousing it in the hand sanitizer, using it to remove as much blood from your skin as possible.

It leaves the skin sticky, you wrinkle your nose at the feeling, but once content, toss the bloodied clothes in a pile, and wipe your blade before putting it away.

You toss the mostly empty hand sanitizer back in your bag, and run your finger over the bullet again before putting that in your pocket. You pull on the gym shirt, it reads Beacon Hills High School, across the front, and is made of a stiff cotton polyester blend that scratches at your skin, and well, it smells like gym, but you’ve had worse, that’s for sure.

You swipe back your hair and reach into another pocket producing your lighter. You crouch down, and set the bloody clothes on fire. It burns quick, hot, and bright. Especially once it catches on the cloth that had the hand sanitizer. You watch the flames quickly until your blood is gone, and then you stamp it out.

Finally, you swing the bag back on your shoulder and you turn to the other three, really taking the time to take them in. This time you do roll your eyes.

“Yes, I died. Tragic, I know. And yes, I’m back, shocking is an understatement I’m sure, but can we please move on?”

“You died!” Stiles repeats again, and you let out a long sigh.

“And it didn’t stick. It’s not the first time, probably won’t be the last,” you admit, but that seems to be the wrong thing to say because the three of them seem to raise into higher hysterics. “Right. okay! You process this, however you need to. Let me know when you’re ready. In the meantime, I gotta… make a call.”

The three offer jerky nods and you huff, walking ahead of them. They follow in a daze as you guide them out of the preserves and back to the main road. You look up and down, and quietly you close your eyes and pray.

Cas… Castiel, I could really use a hand right about now… Please?

You peek an eye open but are disappointed by the lack of blue-tie-trenchcoat-wearing angels.

You cave after another few minutes of silent prayer.

You drop your bag and walk into the street, “CAS! CASTIEL!!!” you shout.

Stiles flinches so violently he trips over his own feet, the three staring at you as if you were a lunatic, which; fair, but now was so not the time, to go into the angels and demons of it all.

“CASTIEL!” you try again.

“What is a Castiel?” Scott asks, eyes wide and concerned.

“CASTIEL,” you begin, shouting his name once more for good measure, before your lips turn into a deep frown, “is a no-good, older-brother preferring, utterly useless contingency plan,” you huff out, before looking back at Scott and shrugging, “apparently,” you add clearing your throat.

“Right,” Scott nods, but nothing about his response inspired his belief.

Again, fair.

You huff again, “guess we’re doing this traditionally,” you mutter, turning to the three. “No chance any of you has chalk?” you ask.

“Chalk?” Stiles repeats, spluttering. “What like sidewalk chalk? What are we gonna do hopscotch our way back into town?”

You deadpan at Stiles unimpressed, and he shifts under the weight of your stare.

“So no chalk?” you ask, and he huffs. “Fucking townies,” you mumble under your breath, but the look you get from Scott tells you he heard it.

“No chalk,” Lydia confirms. “But, chalk’s mostly made of the shells of single-celled organisms, like coccolithophores and foraminifera,” she explains and your brows furrow.

“What?”

“It’s found in most sedimentary deposits,” she continues.

You blink at her.

Her shoulders sag a bit, “Limestone rocks would work,” she relents.

You perk at that. “Wait here,” you tell them, taking off back the way you’d come. “I saw some limestone on our way out!”

By the time you make it back to them, the three are huddled, whispering quickly and casting weary glances around. They pause as you come back but you barely pay attention, instead, you focus on chalking the ground, delicate and precise marks as you use the limestone on the asphalt.

Once happy with the markings you stand outside the drawing, and toss the leftover limestone aside, wiping your hands on your jeans and standing at full height. You crack your neck, and turn to the markings.

“Amaymon, Amaymon, appear now, by the power of the Angelical Keys, I summon thee, Castiel,” you begin, voice loud and clear. It pulls the other three’s attention. Stiles ready to interrupt when you began again. “Rah ah gah ee oh es, Castiel, Rah ah gah ee oh es,” the three were now staring with wide eyes, on your second pass of the Enochian chant, your voice seemed to reverberate through the preserves, sounding less and less human. “Amaymon, Amaymon, appear now, by the power of the Angelical Keys, I summon thee, Castiel,” you repeat a final time.

You hold your breath, waiting, seconds tick by and finally your eye twitches. Fucking Castiel, you appear whenever Dean calls, bastards, all three of you.

“Fine,” you huff, throwing your hands in the air. “Prayer didn’t work, neither did calling nicely, or an official summons, so I guess that leaves me with threats! I hope you’re happy!” you shout at no one, and you catch the look Lydia shares with Stiles.

“(Y/n) maybe you should-” Scott begins and you wave him off.

“CASTIEL, YOU GET YOUR WINGED ASS HERE RIGHT NOW OR I SWEAR ON MY NAME I WILL NEVER LET YOU HAVE ANOTHER MOMENT OF PEACE YOU WINGED RAT!” you scream, causing the other three to flinch.

And then a man in a trenchcoat materializes right behind you, and the three lose their shit.

“WHAT THE FU-”

“WHO?”

“WHERE DID-”

You whirl around and the Angel stands stiffly as he stares at you.

“About fucking time,” you huff, glaring at him.

“I find your demanding tone off-putting,” Cas decides and your eye twitches.

“Off-putting? Are you kidding Cas? I’ve been trying to get in contact with Dean and Sam, no one’s answering their phones!”

“Which numbers did you try?”

“Plant, Page, and Jones, FBI,” you counter.

“We deactivated them.”

“No shit,” you hiss.

“You are acting like a-” he stops himself, sighing.

the audacity.

“Like a what, Cas?” you press.

“Like an ass-butt,” he admits and you have to scrub your hand over your face. “I do not appreciate it,” he adds on.

You open your mouth with a sharp retort but you stop yourself, count to ten in your mind and let out a deep breath instead. Reminding yourself, you can’t talk to Cas the same way you would to Dean and Sam, it was counter-productive at best.

“You’re right, I apologize Castiel. I’m… flustered,” you admit, levelly, jaw clenched and eye twitching as you do.

“Is it because of these three?” he asks, finally addressing the others hovering just a few feet away.

“No, these are friends Castiel,” you huff.

“Why then? You are usually the most put-together of the three Winchester siblings,” he questions.

Isn’t that a low bar? The 17-year-old little half sister is the most put-together when compared to her two adult older brothers.

“I was shot, and killed about an hour ago Cas, I can feel where they sliced me open down in hell, and smell like a mix of death, blood, and high school gym class. I would very much like to know where my older brothers are, right now,” you explain, once again keeping your voice in that forced level tone.

“I see. One moment,” he says and before you can disagree he disappears.

“Oh, Fuck me!” you shout again.

“I have so many questions,” Stiles speaks up from where he and Scott are still stood.

“Sliced you open?” Lydia repeats, voice pitching up.

“Yeah, and Hell?” Stiles tags on, funnily enough, his voice did the same thing.

You glare at the two. Chuck’s sake, it was going to be such a pain to do the whole tip of the iceberg speech, at least they already believed in the Supernatural.

“Just-” you pause for another deep breath. “Please, let me find my brothers first,” you request instead.

Luckily you don’t have to wait long, because only a few minutes later you can hear an engine coming up the road, and you sigh when you catch sight of the Impala.

The car’s moving fast, and it screeches, skidding a bit, as Dean throws the thing in park. Both of you brothers rushing out. Dean gets to you first, hands on your shoulders, looking you up and down.

“The hell happened?” he asks, voice gruff.

“Hell,” you answer shortly.

“That’s not funny,” Sam counters.

“Neither is radio silence,” you shoot back.

Both of your brothers share a look.

“Fair,” Sam concedes, when Dean stays resolute, he hasn’t let go of you yet.

You feel Dean’s grip tighten and you sigh, “I’m fine, seriously,” you relent, voice softening far more than it has since you woke up.

“C’mon let’s get you to the motel,” Dean decides, keeping one hand on you as he starts pushing you to the Impala.

“Uh, Dean?” Sam calls after him, a nervous laugh paired with a clearing of his throat.

“What?” Dean barks the question over his shoulder, walking you forwards.

“She’s got friends,” he reminds him and you shrug at Dean who finally turns and stares at the the three who have been watching your brothers with curious eyes.

“Ah shit, more teenagers,” Dean frowns. “Fine, pack it in,” he huffs, opening the door.

Sam smiles nervously and gestures for the three to slip into the back row. You on the other hand, end up sandwiched between your two big brothers. Sam casts another look over you once he’s back in the car, and Dean’s pulling a U-turn.

“You sure, you’re okay?”

You sigh, and reach into your pocket, pulling out the bullet, and then dropping it in Sam’s hand as a response.

“Sorry I asked,” he backtracks.

You roll your eyes, and lean back into the leather seat, “Someone has to redo my tattoo when we get to the motel,” you speak up.

“Damn, total wipe?” Dean asks looking over at you.

“Not even a scar,” you mutter.

“That’s not too bad, I mean that wendigo last fall caught you pretty bad, right? Scar’s gone now?” Sam tries to point out but both you and Dean level him with a look.

“I thought we agreed to no bright sides on death, hell, torture, and resurrection,” you mutter mutinously.

“We did,” Dean agrees.

This time Sam rolls his eyes, “Alright, I’m sorry I tried,” he huffs, settling back as well.

“So many questions,” you hear Stiles repeat, and you groan in despair.

...

everything tags: @butterfly-skinnylegend

[he-runs-with-the-wolves]

I don't know why, but I guess it has something to do with you

By LunaCanisLupus_22

(Rated E, one shot, 17k words, locked fic login to read)

“You smell like me,” the guy says, scowling as he crowds in and Stiles staggers back between the coats and finally hits the wall. “Why do you smell like me?”

He barely lets out a garbled sound as the blood rushes to his cheeks. “No reason,” Stiles yelps, struggling to get his footing and grasping at a whirlwind of puffy fur.

Or the one where Stiles goes thrift shopping and steals an alpha's shirt. And gets a lot more than he bargains for.

.

NOTES: Alpha and very super secret agent Derek Hale is assigned to help very normal omega FBI agent Stiles Stilinski with a case. Derek has a higher security clearance than Stiles, and Stiles just so happened to steal one of Derek’s shirts from a donation rack at a thrift store a week ago, so they’re doing great!

[zenawa]

After another hate crime against supernaturals, the FBI's paranormal division has to take some extra steps to ensure their kind will not be exposed to the public. The director is opened to all ideas. Agent Talia Hale has one, involving a specific human.

I might have an idea for part 2, if enough people are interested....

[teenwolfpackincorrectcaptions]

Rafe : Boy, I am two seconds from being on you like white on rice in a glass of milk on a paper plate in a snowstorm. I'm gonna put my foot so far up your ass, the water on my knee will quench your thirst. Stiles : Try it.

[wilhelminyard]

one thing about me is I don't throw around the soulmate title like it's nothing. like, a ship has gotta EARN this title. there are some good ships that, in my opinion, aren't soulmates. they're still good and I ship them and I love them but the soulmates title is a whole other level that they can't quite reach.

like, alex manes and michael guerin are soulmates. no doubts. so are michaela stone and zeke landon. as well as leopold fitz and jemma simmons.

however, imo stiles and lydia aren't. pacey and joey neither. you know what I mean?

like I fear I look for the written in the stars type of bond in my soulmates.

[diva-calderu]

Stiles Stilinski x Derek Hale

FBI Agent x Drug Runner AU

For @halesfavoriteharlot

[nino-rox]

MASTERLIST

REQUEST STATUS: OPEN

DISCLAIMER: Please be of the appropriate age ( i.e, Adult as per your country’s stipulations and regulations) before interacting with this post.

LEGEND*

S: SMUT (NSFW/EXPLICIT)

M: MATURE (GORE/VIOLENCE)

A: ANGST (UNNERVING/UNPLEASANT)

F: FLUFF (EUPHORIC)

O: ORIGINAL WORK (ORIGINAL CHARACTER/STORY)

Hope you’re doing well. I’m just getting into writing - mainly K-POP/Anime/Celebrity x Gender Neutral/Male Reader SMUT - any requests/suggestions of any kind would be highly appreciated!

K-POP / K-DRAMA

S.Coups (Choi Seungcheol) x Male Reader | S

Choi San x Male Bottom Reader | S

Cha Eunwoo x Male Bottom Reader | S

Jung Wooyoung x Male Reader | S

Jeon Jungkook x Male Reader | S

Choi Yeonjun x Male Bottom Reader | S.M

Keeho (Stephen Yoon) x Male Bottom Reader | S

ADDICTED | Byeon Woo Seok x Male Reader | M.A

Choi Beomgyu x Top Male Reader | S

Library + Fascination | Sim Jaeyun x Male Reader | M

MARVEL

TASM Spider-Man x Male Bottom Reader | S

Shadows of Betrayal Part 1 Grant Ward x Male Reader | M.A.O | SPOILER ALERT

Peter Parker | Tom Holland | Boyfriend Headcanons | Gender Neutral Reader | M

CALL OF DUTY

Ghost x Male Bottom Reader | S.O

DEMON SLAYER (KIMETSU NO YAIBA)

Akaza (Soyoma Hakuji) x Human Male Bottom Reader | S

TEEN WOLF

Cookies and Cuddles | Stiles Stilinski x Male Reader | F

We Just Fucked | Stiles Stilinski x Bottom Male Reader | S

ANOMALY Part 1 | Stiles Stilinski x Male Reader | O

ANOMALY Part 2 | Stiles Stilinski x Male Reader | M.O

ANOMALY Part 3 | Stiles Stilinski x Male Reader | M.O

Thank You <3 Please Send Requests

[jade-bright]

Got really into Spy x Family recently...my mind's been working.

Hear is my take on Sterek Spy x Family au:

Option A: Spy Stiles x Assassin Derek

"Stiles Jankowski", code name: Void, the FBI's (or some other organization's) best spy/agent, always gets his missions done and has never been caught. Man of many faces/disguises, a silent and deadly enemy to his assigned targets (for the purpose of being able to disguise him scent and hide his heartbeat, Stiles is at least a little magic in all of these). Stiles has lots of experience with dealing with the supernatural, like were's, darach's and many others . Nothing and no one has ever gotten the jump on him, until…

Derek Hale, code name: The Wolf, a born werewolf that later became trained as an assassin in order to take care of his little sister after their family died. If any of his targets were ever found, they'd be found with claw marks and more often than not, their throats ripped out, but...his victims are never found. Derek was never interested in romantic relationships, but Cora keeps telling him to "get a life," and he does, when he suddenly crosses paths with Stiles...

Option B: Assassin Stiles x Spy Derek

Derek Hale, code name: Alpha, born wolf whose whole family was murdered and then later on he became a spy. Because of his training and werewolf abilities, Derek's the best spy the organization has got. He's always able to find and get the jump on his targets once he's locked in on their scent/heartbeat, it's game over for them. The same reason, no one's able to get the jump on him, until there's one person he doesn't immediately catch a scent or heartbeat...

Mieczyslaw Stiles Stilinski, code name: Little Red, took up the career path of an assassin as a way to inadvertently help his Sheriff father with the bad guys that get away. In his training, he learned how to hide his scent and heartbeat in case any of his targets were shifters, and sometimes he forgets to turn off his "ilusion." Despite how much his boss nags at him, to quit "playing with his food" he's never gotten caught, scratched and bruised sure, but it's worth it in order to cause his victims a little mischief. Everyone in his life is bothering him about finding someone, and he firmly believes he'll never find someone. That is until he runs into one Derek Hale, who promptly asks him to marry him...

Option C: My thoughts - Spy Stiles w/Yor's personality x Assassin Derek w/Loid's personality

If you watched the anime, you might agree with me. Yor's personality as a civilian fits Stiles', meanwhile Loid's fits Derek more. However, in their jobs, I think Stiles would be better suited for what Loid does for his job as a spy, especially with how it seems his spy identity as "Twilight" is kinda treated the same way as how some fics I've read treat "Void" as being another identity Stiles can take. It's hard to try to think of how Derek works better as an assassin rather than a spy, seeing as, in either job, he'd be offing people, but also, the acrobatics, feats of incredible strengths AND reflexes that Yor does as a civilian and assassin are definitely things I could see Derek doing, probably because that's how he was in the show.

Now I have like basic ideas for how Eli would be included in any of these options, in terms of how Sterek come across him and go into choosing him. But, remembering the "OG" purpose of Anya having been adopted, (infiltrating the school to get closer to a target), that's where my brain hasn't worked much ideas and plot for him. But if yall want to know how I think Eli is introduced in any of the options, let me know.

[owiil]

Stiles in the FBI, straight out of Quantico, new kid on the block, total newbie.

For whatever reason, he finds himself in a bank with another newbie and in the middle of a heist, which goes very, very poorly.

This other newbie is… well, they’re not handling it terribly, but Stiles… Newbie B is watching Stiles who is cool as a fucking cucumber. He talks in a calm, soft voice to other hostages on the ground, and when the robbers don’t get out in time and it turns into a legitimate hostage situation, he puts himself right by the pregnant woman who has asthma and high school kid that was depositing his first paycheck. When some 30-something woman starts freaking out, saying she can’t breathe and she just needs to get out of here, Stiles talks her down in a handful of sentences.

There are probably three robbers. One in control of surveying the windows (power has long been cut, along with heat, and it’s the middle of god damn winter), one’s fully dedicated to just barely not shooting the hostages, and the one in charge flits between the two and sneering through the phone at whoever is trying to negotiate with him.

Head Robber finally has had enough, takes out his gun, flips off the safety, and grabs for pregnant woman, because the time limit he gave the cops (Feds, actually, Stiles is sure) is up and he’s sticking to his word, a hostage is dying. Except when he grabs for her, she’s still right beside Stiles, and Stiles has dealt with a lot of fucking shit that is a hell of a lot more scary than three guys with guns.

Doubt it, never with hostages around, at least, not ones that couldn’t fight for themselves or heal themselves.

Still, it’s basically instinct to reach out, use the man’s arm to pull himself to his feet while he twists the weapon (and the man’s wrist) until there’s a sickening crack, the man hasn’t even groaned in response before Stiles slides the weapon free, palms it at the same time he brings his knee up to smash into the guy’s face, and fires at the other two men, each going down in a total of four rapid fire shots.

Other newbie just watches, wide eyed as Stiles dumps Head Robber on the ground, glances at her/him and says, “Make sure they don’t move,” before stalking toward the two downed robbers, toeing their weapons away from their limp hands like he’s done this before (because he has, except it’s been rogue hunters and… well, typically they’ve been unconscious, but there have been a few times in the past where it’s been kill or be killed, and Stiles has come to accept that without pause).

When he’s well satisfied that the men are down permanently, he asks for the ties of three different male hostages, and is down on his knees binding the first incapacitated robber when SWAT busts in. Newbie watches Stiles bring his hands to the back of his head and lay himself face down on the ground, spreading his legs wide, without question, until she’s able to find the voice to start yelling, “He’s not one of them. He’s not one of them!”

Stiles doesn’t make the newspaper (thank fuck), mostly because the FBI don’t want him too (he doesn’t mind), and the other newbies, and a lot of the instructors, give him the side eye for pretty much his entire time at Quantico. 

[imagine-sterek]

Based on an interview where Hugh Jackman’s son tells his friends he brings over that his dad isn’t anything like Wolverine.

Imagine other werewolf kids meeting Eli and they’re so impressed that Derek is his dad. Like “Your dad is THE DEREK HALE” and and Eli rolls his eyes like “my dads not cool, he’s not tuff, he’s actually a huge dork” and when he meets people from the FBI they ask him if Eli is impressed with Stiles and his work Eli is like “no. Why should I be? He makes me kill the spiders in the house. He can go on life threatening missions, but he still gets scared watching horror movie, yeah big hero you got there.” and Eli goes around calling stiles boss big brother and he gets so annoying, but he’s not gonna have beef with a 15 year old kid. And everyone just tell stiles, “your son is kind of scary” and stiles laughs and says he’s a teenager.

"You dads have taken down several crime rings, mass murderers, and saved countless lives, and you're not impressed?"

"They fight over which Star Wars movie to watch on Friday nights, so... no."

[herbs-spice-and-everything-nice]

I was collecting up my fave characters I loved from younger me to now that are magical and realized a pattern

I don't know what this says about me, but I feel it's accurate lol