WOO
HOO! Let’s do this!! LOL. So I decided to go ahead and do the month of prompts
that the ever amazing @siriusstufff posted a while back found here (I’m posting the pic of it here too)!
I did something similar in March with
Sterek and Malec. Now I’m doing it with Malec and Sterek plus the Leverage OT3
because I have all the feels. So yeah, enjoy my craziness and I’ll do my best
to post for the whole month (Although sometimes it mind end up like tonight
where I posted 8 in a row because I’ve missed the first eight days of July lol)
*Cackles like a mad woman* I’M DONE! I DID IT! ANOTHER CHALLENGE DOWN! WOO!! Okay I’m done lol. I want to thank @siriusstufff for coming up with this list. I really did have a ton of fun doing it. I have never written for three ships so it was fun to do different words for each ship. Anyway, if you’re curious to read any (Or all of them), each day has the link to the story attached. Thank you all!
A broken, wounded sound escapes Derek’s lips, as he feels cold shock and fear coursing through his body.
“What? How- is he alive?” Derek almost can’t get the words out, as his legs give out, and he sits down on one of the island chairs.
The one where Stiles gets into a car accident, Derek tries not to lose his shit, their daughter is pretty cool, and the pack is the best support structure ever.
This piece has a longer journey, because the first author, the amazing @mxgnxsbane had to drop out. Here again I want to say thanks to you, Quinn, and I hope you’re better. 💜
And than our fantastic Valerie, @bunnymaccool became my savior pinch-hitter hero in shiny armor, who created a sweet, good-for-the-soul kind of story, what you can read in this link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15447207
(Sorry, I’m on my phone, and can’t link it nicer, but as soon as I’m at home, I’m gonna edit the post to be a little bit neater.)
Go and read, Guys, I promise it worth it, because you days will be happier. 😋😉😊
Five times Stiles and Derek crossed paths on the job and one time they weren’t working.
“You’re going to have to ask him for help.”
“I’m not asking him for help, Lydia,” Stiles sneered, trying valiantly to not look as she cleaned out the gash running across his bicep. “We’re mortal enemies. I refuse.”
Lydia sighed and pressed the cotton ball unnecessarily hard where a bullet had grazed him. “You’re not enemies, Stiles. You’re the only one who thinks that.”
Stiles threw his good arm up in the air. “He tried to blow me up!”
Just another day turned to shit, Stiles typed out his annoyance. He angrily hit the post button, knowing that his followers would show some support in his hour of crisis. He looked up at his dad, a sour expression pulled at his lips when he thought about their earlier conversation. He didn’t blame his dad, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to thank him for sending him away.
“Again, that’s very kind of you, Talia,” John concluded. He faintly smiled at whatever the woman had to say. “You too. Bye.” He hung up the phone, turning an eye to Stiles. “Don’t be that way,” he sighed when he caught the unhappy look Stiles was giving him.
“You’re not giving me a choice,” Stiles replied. “This is stupid, dad,” he complained. “I wanted to finish out my senior year here—in peace.”
“Stiles,” John tiredly uttered. “You can finish your online program fine in New York,” he knowingly stated. “That’s the whole reason I paid for that tuition.”
Stiles sighed, wishing his dad would have forgotten that little fact. It was hard to, when the whole reason John invested in the program was because it allowed Stiles to travel with him on prolonged cases, without jeopardizing his schoolwork.
“Besides, it’s only a few months until summer, and you’ve always wanted to go to New York,” John countered.
“On vacation, or for college, not as a charity case,” Stiles sharply stated. “We have the house—you have the money that I can stay at home fine.”
John was silent for a moment. His gaze lowered, looking at Stiles’ wrists, knowing the burns and scars that hid under the long sleeves. “I don’t want you by yourself,” he finally admitted. “What happened last time—”
“It wasn’t a big deal,” Stiles rushed to argue his logic. He subconsciously pulled the long sleeves down, curling the baggy material in the palm of his hands.
“What happened last time,” John calmly repeated. “Scared me.”
Stiles stared at the ground, unable to look at his father.
“I don’t want to leave you alone again,” John softly explained. “I don’t want to lose you.”
Stiles twisted the material in his hands. “It wasn’t what you thought.”
“I don’t think you meant to almost kill yourself,” John answered. “I think you were hurting, and it made you feel better.”
Stiles wanted to cry. His father was only half right about Stiles’ reasoning, but completely wrong about what he thought really happened. But he couldn’t tell his father the truth—not about his magic. And that was what hurt the most, having to lie to his father and let him believe that he pressed a hot lighter into his skin for the endorphin rush. That he caused a house fire because he couldn’t handle it.
“I’m not going to hurt myself,” Stiles weakly argued.
“I don’t want you being lonely either, Stiles,” John answered. “Please. This will ease my conscience.”
Stiles sighed, sinking into his chair. He knew his dad won with that line. “Okay,” he croaked, staring up at the ceiling as he tried not to cry.
~*~
The Hales weren’t just wealthy. No, that would make Stiles’ life a little too easy.
The Hales were werewolf royalty, as far as the world was concerned. They were one of the oldest packs in North America, with pack bonds tying them to even Europe’s strongest and most powerful.
Talia Hale was an activist for werewolf rights, garnering support among politicians and raising awareness about the difficulties werewolves faced every day. She worked hard to ensure that werewolves were guaranteed the same basic rights humans had, though not everyone agreed with her.
Broderick Hale was a doctor, with awards and accolades from every corner of the medical world. And to make things even more of a scandal, he was human.
And just like anything that was put in the public eye, every aspect of the Hale’s lives landed on the front page of tabloids. Invasive and downright rude questions had become a norm for them to suffer whenever cornered by a scandal crazed reporter.
So it all made sense that Talia was the most skeptical of outsiders, especially in relation to her children. She trusted very few people, and Kate Argent was not someone she was going to allow ample wiggle room. She would be the first to admit that she babied Derek out of her three children, but in the end she was justified in her weariness.
Derek had been the most trusting of the Hales, that was until Kate Argent tried to burn his whole world down into nothing but ash. He had trusted Kate—he may have even loved her.
And to make it worse, it was her bigoted, baseless hatred for werewolves that spurred her actions.
When Derek started sneaking out to meet with Kate, Talia contacted John.
It didn’t take John long to discover the radicalized community the Argents had developed over years of indoctrination. He gave Talia all the information she needed to realize that Kate had ulterior motives for dating Derek—that her father’s ‘Human First’ sentiment had tainted his family to the core.
Derek had been heartbroken when his mother told him—he even had the typical irrational teenager’s response to not believe it. It wasn’t until Kate tried to light Derek’s motorcycle on fire that it was painfully clear.
As a result, the Argents were labeled as a radical hate group, and Kate, along with Gerard, was sentenced for attempted murder, and the conspiracy to commit a mass murder.
Talia felt indebted to John for his work, fearing that her family could have suffered much worse had he not intervened the way he had.
That all lead to Stiles’ current predicament. Thanks to his dad’s work, he was now being housed through the summer by Talia Hale, Alpha of the Hale pack, and all around terrifying woman.
Stiles counted himself lucky, realizing that the Hales were all leading lives of their own—too busy to notice the additional person in their home.
At least, that was the lie he told himself. A lie that was shattered by Derek Hale’s perfect everything.
Link to Fic: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15327003 Summary: Stiles wasn’t afraid to say the forest was more of a home to him that the village grounds his tribe lived on. Ever since he was a child he’d always been pulled by the forest and over the years the pull had only become stronger and more insistent. However, it wasn’t until he stumbled upon a naked man near a creek that he started to understand what the meaning behind the pull was.
I got to collaborate with the wonderful Shabelys @yetanothersterekblog / AO3 – you were a wonderful noodle honey, thank you for the collaboration ❤
Title: All the Bright Places Word count: 4,159 Author: simplyn2deep (posting as fandommadememad) Rating: Teen and Up Audiences Warnings: none, but all human AU Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski Characters: Derek Hale, Stiles Stilinski, Sheriff Stilinski, others mentioned Summary:“So we’re really doing this?” Stiles said when he joined Derek in their bedroom. “A month in New York?”
Derek gave a hesitant nod. “I think so…if that’s what you want to do.”
Stiles lunges for Derek and tackles him on the bed in a hug, “Yes!” He exclaims. “I want to! So fucking much!”
+=+ PART 1 +=+ Takes places at the Sheriff’s Department; Derek’s at work.
Derek sighed as he pinched the bridge of his nose. He knew that if Stiles saw him, he’d be bugging him about going to get his eyes checked to make sure he had the correct prescription of his glasses, but he just didn’t have the time for that.
Between the big case they were working on and learning about some new system that Parrish had just finished training on and was currently trying to explain to him, Derek barely had time to think let alone make a doctor’s appointment.
His eyes were fine. He just needed to take a break from focusing on the tiny print of this file and trying to make out the chicken scratch notes from one of the detectives he was working with.
‘This detective can kiss my…’ Derek thought to himself as he tossed the papers to the side.
“Taking a break, Jordan,” Derek called out as he pushed his chair back, stood up and stretched until his back gave a satisfying crack and pop.
Parrish nodded his head, not looking up from what he was doing. “You’re due for one anyway. Take 30 minutes and I’ll let the boss know.”
“Thanks. Just enough for a coffee and power nap,” Derek replied as he picked up the near empty and definitely cold cup of coffee from his desk.
He maneuvered around some chairs and desks before making his way to the back break room. Even though Jordan told him to take a 30-minute break, he knew the man would likely let him sleep closer to an hour if they were having a slow time in the office, but Derek still set the alarm on his phone for 25 minutes and made a mental note to freshen up in the bathroom.
Sterek AU: Never Trust A Skinny Baker 1/3 | Stiles just wanted to come home and run his bakery with Scott, but of course normalcy isn’t something he’ll ever find in Beacon Hills. The FBI thrust him into an undercover investigation of what they think is a serial killer, and Stiles already knows it’s something different. Worst of all, there’s a model that keeps coming in for cupcakes between shoots. He’s angry and beautiful and an alpha werewolf that happens to be Stiles’s best customer. What could go wrong? Oh yeah, he’s a main suspect in the fucking case. All Stiles has to do is not get murdered by whatever homicidal monster is out there, all the while trying desperately to not fall for ominous Derek Hale. Let’s just hope he doesn’t get compromised.
“You do understand the risks of this operation, yes?” Agent Raphael McCall turns to look at his lanky intern. “This thing is dangerous, primal, and will not hesitate to kill again. We shouldn’t even be letting you do this.” He sits back down in his chair and takes a deep breath as he slides the case file across his large, oak desk. The boy picks it up and wastes no time in flipping through photos and autopsy reports as Agent McCall leans forward on his forearms to speak in a hushed tone. “You absolutely cannot tell anyone while you’re investigating. Not Lydia, not the Argents, and definitely not my son. Comprende? I know his nose is probably stuck into this mess already, but under no circumstance do you compromise yourself.” Agent McCall reaches forward and snatches the file back and goes through the important details, skimming over the police reports and the crime scene photos right to the last couple pages in the folder. “Everything in this packet is what you need to learn. It’s your alias. Your reasons for coming home, what you’ve been up to here at the FBI headquarters, how your internship is going, everything. You say nothing that isn’t in this packet.” “What if the answers aren’t in this packet? Do I call you o-or like, shoot a text?” He makes finger guns and receives a glare from the agent in response. “You know what? I’m great at improvising, I’m sure I can just, uh, make something up based on this—” he wiggles the pages midair, “—incredibly thorough biography.” He rises from his seat in front of the desk and Agent McCall follows suit. “The only people you consult with are your father and the rest of the Beacon County Sheriff’s Department. They’ve already been briefed and await your arrival.” He reaches into his suit pocket and tosses a pair of keys at the boy. “We pulled some strings and got Scott to send your car up. It’s parked out front.” “Whoa, wait—” The agent stops from his departure and takes another deep breath as he turns around at the kid behind him. “What is it?” “Do I have a cool code name or anything?” He starts bobbing his head to music that isn’t playing. “I could be like, Batman or something.” McCall opens the office door and shakes his head. “You’re going home. You don’t need one.” He motions for the kid to leave. “Your alias is just yourself, Stiles Stilinski.” Stiles’s face falls into pursed lips. “Whatever. I’m going.” He jingles his keys as he walks out of the office and into an array of cubicles. “Hey one more th—” He turns and the door closes. And locks. Twice. “Just go do your job, Stiles,” Agent McCall says through the door. “This creature isn’t going to catch itself.”
theproblemwithstardust 