#FBI Stiles

[casually-eat-my-soul]

FBI agent stiles Stilinski and mafia Derek hale flirting.

“When I can prove your crooked I’m taking you down”

“Yeah baby, down where?”

All the other agents hate listening to this shit. Stiles is constantly getting called into his superiors office for his negligent and inappropriate behaviour. But they can’t take him off the case because Derek only puts up with stiles.

Now I can’t decide if Stiles if actually on Derek’s side and is a corrupt agent or if Derek seduces him to his side.

Also Derek stealing a kiss from in front of the agents. Like they are trying to intimidate Derek with a show of force and he just laughs, the leading agent talking shit about how they are going to get Derek arrested. Derek winks at stiles and tells him that stiles can see him in cuffs anytime he wants before stealing a kiss and walking away.

Or insert my earlier post about Derek kissing stiles while in hand cuffs

[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.

[cat-astrophicgem]

In need of someone to write this fic bc I’m incapable:

what I truly need to the very CORE of my being is FBI!Stiles saving Eli from imminent death like maybe he was kidnapped and the pack is looking for him and maybe stiles is undercover and hears about this kid with a last name Hale who also happens to be a werewolf (that’s sus) and then blows his cover to save him cause he has to KNOW and obviously stiles is badass, he’s been an agent for YEARS and Eli calls derek aka dad and is like “hey this guy saved me” and maybe he FaceTimes him and then Derek sees stiles OKAY and maybe there is CCTV footage of stiles saving eli and everyone sees WHO KNOWS that’d be crazy

[fuckyeahfanfictions]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Teen Wolf (TV) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski Characters: Sheriff Stilinski, Melissa McCall Additional Tags: Fluff, Candy, FBI Agent Stiles Stilinski, Physical Therapist Derek Hale, Sheriff Stilinski Ships It, mistaken age, Idiots in Love Summary:

After the sheriff is shot, Stiles meets his gorgeous physical therapist and begins a charm offensive to woo the hell out of the guy.

Unfortunately for him, Derek thinks he's a student.

[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.

[magical-reid]

Back to Beacon Hills

Pairing: FBI!Stiles Stilinski x Fem!Teacher!Reader

Word Count: 1.7K

Setting: AFTER the Teen Wolf timeline

Summary: After three years away, FBI agent Stilinski returns to Beacon Hills to investigate a string of strange occurrences at the high school, only to find himself drawn to a new teacher with a quiet strength and a mysterious past. As the investigation intensifies and danger lurks closer, Stiles finds that the town—and the unexpected connection with her—might just be the fresh start he never knew he needed.

It had been three years since Stiles left Beacon Hills. The last time he was home, he’d packed up a lifetime of memories, heartbreaks, and near-death experiences into the back of his jeep and told himself he wouldn’t look back. He needed out. Away from the constant looming threat of the supernatural, away from the haunting shadows of his own mistakes. The FBI was supposed to be his new chapter, a clean slate.

But now, standing in the middle of the high school parking lot with the echo of his dad’s voice ringing in his ears, it didn’t feel like a fresh start. It felt like old ghosts had dragged him right back.

“They’ve been hearing things at the school,” his dad had said over the phone two days ago. “Strange sounds. Flickering lights. Animals acting weird near the woods. People are scared, Stiles.”

Stiles wanted to dismiss it—chalk it up to Beacon Hills being Beacon Hills. But when his dad mentioned an incident with a teacher—a classroom full of students trapped in a room where the temperature had plummeted for no reason—he knew he couldn’t ignore it.

Which was how he ended up here, walking into the high school with his badge tucked in his pocket and an overwhelming sense of déjà vu.

The teacher was nothing like he’d expected.

He’d thought someone who worked in this place—this town—would be frazzled or resigned, the way most people here seemed to be after years of unexplained phenomena. But when Stiles walked into your classroom, clipboard in hand, you stood at the whiteboard, mid-sentence, utterly unbothered by his presence.

You turned to face him with an arched brow, marker still in hand. “Can I help you?”

Stiles blinked, thrown by the directness. You were younger than he’d anticipated, maybe close to his age, and not at all the panicked figure he’d imagined when his dad mentioned the incident. If anything, you seemed skeptical.

“Uh, yeah,” Stiles stammered, recovering quickly. He held up his badge, stepping closer. “Agent Stilinski. FBI.”

Your eyes flicked to the badge, then back to his face, unimpressed. “FBI? Really? What does the FBI want with Beacon Hills High School?”

“It’s more of a precaution,” Stiles replied, trying to match your calm exterior. “You were here when… whatever happened, happened?”

The corner of your mouth twitched, like you were holding back a laugh. “You mean the part where I was stuck in a classroom with twenty tenth-graders and the thermostat decided to stage a coup?”

“Sounds about right,” he said, leaning against the nearest desk. “Mind walking me through it?”

You sighed, crossing your arms over your chest as you leaned back against the desk at the front of the room. “I don’t know what you’re looking for, Agent Stilinski, but it’s probably not here. Weird stuff happens in this town. People get used to it. I’ve only been here a year, and even I’ve figured that out.”

Stiles tilted his head, curiosity sparking. “You’re not from here?”

“Moved here last summer,” you said. “I was teaching in Seattle before this. Figured a smaller town might be… quieter.”

He barked out a laugh before he could stop himself. “Yeah, good luck with that. Beacon Hills has its own definition of ‘quiet.’”

You smirked, but there was a flicker of something else in your expression—something wary, maybe even a little haunted. “I’m starting to see that.”

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

The investigation wasn’t straightforward.

Stiles spent the next few days digging into police reports, chasing dead ends, and finding his way back to your classroom more often than he expected. He told himself it was because you’d been the one present during the most dramatic event—your insight was crucial. But deep down, he knew there was more to it.

There was something about you. The way you carried yourself, calm and composed, but with a sharp edge of sarcasm that kept him on his toes. The way you didn’t seem scared of him—or the things he was starting to suspect were at play here.

You fascinated him, and that scared him more than he cared to admit.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

One night, he found himself standing outside the school, flashlight in hand, staring at the woods where he was sure something was watching him. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up, and he felt the familiar prickle of danger.

“Agent Stilinski?”

Your voice cut through the tension, and he whipped around to find you standing on the sidewalk, arms wrapped around yourself against the chill.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, lowering the flashlight.

You shrugged, stepping closer. “I could ask you the same thing. Thought you might need backup.”

“Backup?” Stiles raised an eyebrow, but his lips twitched in amusement.

You rolled your eyes. “Don’t get any ideas. I was working late and saw you skulking around out here.”

“Well, for the record, I don’t skulk,” he replied, but the teasing fell away as his gaze drifted back to the tree line. “You shouldn’t be here. It’s not safe.”

“And you think it’s safer for you to be out here alone?” you shot back, stepping closer. “If there’s something out there, shouldn’t someone else know about it?”

His chest tightened at your words. He’d spent so many years doing exactly this—throwing himself into danger, insisting he could handle it alone. And now here you were, a stranger, challenging that instinct with nothing but quiet determination.

“Okay,” he said finally, his voice softer. “But stick close to me.”

The tension between you only grew from there.

Stiles found himself drawn to you in ways he couldn’t quite explain. Maybe it was the way you didn’t flinch when things got weird, or the way you handled yourself with quiet confidence, even when the world around you seemed to be falling apart. Maybe it was the way your wit matched his, sparring with him effortlessly, giving him something to hold onto in the chaos.

But it wasn’t just fascination. It was something deeper, something that made his heart race whenever you brushed past him in a narrow hallway or glanced his way during a tense conversation.

And it scared the hell out of him.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

The break in the case came on a Friday night. Stiles was combing through old records at the station when his phone buzzed. It was you.

Unknown Number

You: I don’t know if this is important, but I think I saw something outside my house.

He stared at the screen, pulse quickening, before he grabbed his jacket and bolted for the door.

When he arrived, the street was eerily quiet, bathed in the dim glow of streetlights. You were standing on the porch, arms crossed, wearing an oversized sweatshirt that looked like it had been thrown on in a rush.

“I wasn’t sure if I should call,” you said when he jogged up to you. “But I saw… something. I don’t know what it was, but it wasn’t human.”

Stiles’ hand twitched toward his flashlight. “Which way did it go?”

You pointed toward the woods behind your house, and Stiles nodded, stepping off the porch. But before he could go more than a few steps, you grabbed his arm.

“Wait.”

He turned, startled by the urgency in your voice.

“Be careful,” you said quietly. Your eyes locked with his, and for a moment, everything else fell away—the case, the danger, the unspoken questions hanging between you. It was just you and him, standing in the glow of the porch light, and the weight of what neither of you could say.

“I will,” he promised, his voice softer than he intended.

And then he disappeared into the trees.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Hours later, after chasing shadows and coming face-to-face with something that definitely didn’t belong in Beacon Hills—or anywhere else, for that matter—Stiles found himself back on your porch.

The creature had fled, wounded but not defeated, and he was sure it would be back. But for now, all he could think about was you, waiting here alone while he was out risking his life.

You opened the door before he could knock, your eyes scanning him for injuries.

“You’re okay,” you said, exhaling a breath you probably didn’t realize you’d been holding.

“Yeah,” he said, stepping inside. “Are you?”

You nodded, but your hands were trembling as you closed the door behind him. He noticed, and without thinking, he reached out to steady you, his fingers brushing against yours.

The contact sent a jolt through both of you.

“Stiles…” you started, your voice barely above a whisper.

“I know,” he said, his hand lingering on yours. “I know this is crazy. I know I shouldn’t—”

“Don’t,” you interrupted, stepping closer. “Don’t talk yourself out of this.”

He froze, caught between the instinct to protect himself and the overwhelming pull he felt toward you. But when you looked up at him, your eyes full of a quiet strength that matched his chaos, he realized he didn’t want to run. Not this time.

So he didn’t.

Instead, he leaned in, his forehead resting against yours as he whispered, “This is a really bad idea.”

You smiled, a soft, almost teasing curve of your lips. “Maybe. But it’s not the worst one you’ve had.”

He laughed, the sound quiet and full of relief, and when you tilted your face toward his, he didn’t hesitate.

The kiss was tentative at first, as if both of you were testing the waters, but it quickly deepened, years of frustration and fear and longing spilling out in a way neither of you could stop.

When you finally pulled apart, your breathing uneven, Stiles rested his hands on your waist, grounding himself in the reality of you.

“Guess I’m not so great at staying away from trouble,” he murmured, his lips quirking into a wry smile.

“Good thing I’m not afraid of it,” you replied, your voice steady despite the flush in your cheeks.

He didn’t know what would happen next—how the case would end, or if he could ever really leave Beacon Hills behind. But as he stood there with you, the weight of the world momentarily lifted, he realized that maybe, just maybe, he didn’t want to.

Because for the first time in a long time, Beacon Hills didn’t feel like a trap.

It felt like home.

[49311grayson]

[TW/Sterek] Mine

*After class, Stiles is talking to an FBI intern, Derek is standing far behind*

Stiles, excited: Can't believe they are going to teach us weapons using. Finally!

Intern, smiling: You seems really excited.

Stiles: Hell yeah! Every time I put my fingers on them, it didn't went well!

Stiles: There's one time I touched a crossbow and almost killed my best friend.

Intern: Really?! The only weapon I had ever used is a taser.

Stiles: That's pretty cool. I used to carry a bat with me, it saved my life everytime.

Intern, wrap his arm around Stiles' shoulder: You gotta tell me more, Sti, and we're so gonna be friends!

Derek: *snarling*

Intern: Uh Stiles? Do you know that guy over there?

Stiles, waves at Derek: Oh that's Derek, my boyfriend.

Intern, frown: Is he— snarling at me?

Stiles: Don't worry, he won't bit you. Hey, Derek!

Intern: *step forward to Stiles*

Derek: *start snarling*

Intern: *step back*

Derek: *stop snarling*

Intern: *put hand on Stiles*

Derek: *start snarling*

Intern, terrified: *puts hand down*

Stiles: Hey, sour wolf! Stop being territorial! You scared him!

Stiles: I apologize. He's a little bit protective of me.

[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

[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.

[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.

[casually-eat-my-soul]

Follow me on my delusional rant for a second: we all know that stiles was kinda but not really obsessed with the hale fire yes?? What if he just a tiny bit more obsessed with it and less with Lydia. The sheriff turns a blind eye to this because this was the most lively his son had been since his mother died. The sheriff also can’t figure why this case doesn’t feel right to him, but if anyone can figure it out it’s his son.

He goes on a deep dive about the hales. There comes a point where he can’t access anymore information legally; so he goes to Danny to teach him how to hack. This gets Lydia attention but not enough to get her to help, yet.

So stiles learns and he hacks into the school database, the police, and generally every establishment that the hales have frequented. He finds a pattern of suspiciously missed full moons, high grocery bills the next morning. He finds Paige and Kate. He finds a paper trail to the fire.

He shows it to his dad. With this evidence the sheriff looks into the case. This is what causes Lydia to talk to stiles. She pulls up to his house the very next morning the sheriff reopens the case. She liked Cora and would do anything to get the person who killed her. This cause a deeper dive of obsession. Together they look into the supernatural side of beacon hills. They find Lydia’s grandmother, and Lydia is able to understand what she is before it becomes a problem.

I’m a Stiles and Lydia sibling truther. They become that duo. Just over all becoming the pretty twins of beacon hills.

Lydia gets familiar ties to the stilinskis. Something that she doesn’t get at home. The sheriff loves her, absolutely dotes on her. He’s always wanted a daughter. Stiles becomes far more confident and comfortable in his skin. They have spa days and sleepovers. Stiles lets Lydia practice makeup on him. Lydia has her own room at the Stilinski’s, it becomes a safe haven for her.

They both watch over the sheriffs diet like hawks; fast food places are terrified when the sheriff comes in to order food. “No sheriff, I actually can’t give you a double burger because I’m still traumatized from your kids”. Lydia creates a binder of healthy meals, while stiles cooks them. (Lydia cannot cook)

Stiles comforts her when Jackson is being a dick. Stiles becomes frienimes with Jackson. When Jackson swings by the house the sheriff quietly brings out his gun and cleans it in front of him. Lydia pretends to be embarrassed but she’s absolutely glowing. Jackson also become close with the sheriff, especially after him and Lydia break up. (They were gay and lesbian solidarity)

With the amount of digging Stiles and Lydia did they would have figured out Peter was being poisoned. I also believe that they would have found Cora was still alive. This brings Laura and Derek back to beacon hills, starting the rise of the hale pack.

Like imagine season one Derek meeting confident stiles with lipstick. Your honour it’s over for him.

Derek still becomes an alpha after the alpha pack comes and he kills one of them. (I’m also a Alpha Derek hale truther)

Stiles and Lydia are both “little reds”

Derek and Cora being super fucking cocky that they’re mated to the pretty twins of beacon hills

The sheriff also cleans his gun in front of Derek and Cora. He’ll be damned doesn’t get to pull the protective father for his kids.

Anyway thanks for coming to my Ted talk

[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."

[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!

[microcroft]

stiles stilinski is so streamer coded. im sorry but that dude absolutely becomes the ludwig of the teen wolf universe. he didnt show up in the movie because he had a sponsored stream. sorry that sucks that the nogitsune is back but he has to play overwatch 2 on tuesday for his red bull sponsorship and he lost a bet so he has to do a cooking stream on wednesday and he's hosting a massive video game competition of 20 streamers vs 10 esports pros on saturday - wait did you say allison is back from the dead? thats crazy dude really wish i could help you research what the hell is going on but i gotta go film a podcast with some buddies....

[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....

[diva-calderu]

Stiles Stilinski x Derek Hale

FBI Agent x Drug Runner AU

For @halesfavoriteharlot