#(eventual) sterek

[thepoolscenethough]

Omega verse accidental baby acquisition(of sorts) Sterek au

Omega Stiles (18) has a fake ID and goes to a bar to drink and get laid. Being a male Omega is embarrassing enough without the whole soon to be graduating and still being probably the only virgin in his class (even his best friend has gotten laid! The traitor!) thing. There he sees Derek Hale. He knows Derek from being a part of that one rich family that lives in the woods and has Female (and just a lot in general) Alphas as well as his many arrests from nearly a decade ago. Stiles may or may not have had a passing crush on the older man (not that he was actually crushing that hard. He has eyes dammit!)

Alpha Derek (25) is a regular at this bar and usually never leaves alone. After some events while in high school (Kate Argent) Derek’s relationship to sex truly leaves something to be desired (truly fuck that bitch!) Suddenly having the cute Omega chatting him up, he decides to let the night take them wherever. Derek does notice that Stiles seems rather young and does inquire about his age which Stiles responds with “well I got in here didn’t I?” while making a show of swirling around his drink (to add emphasis on the “yeah I’m totally 21”)

Yes unfortunately Stiles does imply that he is at least 21, but it’s not like he expects to ever really cross paths with Derek again after tonight. The man has been held at that station more times than Stiles can count (typical public nuisance delinquent behavior in his teens and early twenties) and has yet to figure out that Stiles even exists let alone that he’s the Sheriff’s barely legal son. It should be fine! It’s not really a lie if he just doesn’t say the thing (that he’s not 21 and his dad’s a cop that isn’t very fond of Derek) out loud right!

They go back to the (unbeknownst to Derek) Stilinski residence and hook up in Stiles’ rather immaturely decorated bedroom. And it’s good. But as good as it is, just like Stiles predicted, Derek leaves without any plans on coming back. Almost like it never happened except for how sore Stiles’ everything is and the sudden inability to keep food down that starts a few weeks later.

Enter Noah aka Sheriff Stilinski aka slightly absent but very loving and observant father. He lines the change in his son up to his previous experience from 18 years ago when Stiles’ mother was going through something similar. Ok maybe it was the used pregnancy tests he found in his son’s trash can that really tipped him off. One huge fight and awkward confession from Stiles later and Noah sets a time and place to meet up with Derek Hale and the 3 of them will have an extensive chat.

Of course Derek is nervous and doesn’t understand why the Sheriff wants to meet with him (his most recent offense being a speeding ticket a year ago so it’s not like he should be in any trouble). Of course Derek is confused as to why the cute Omega with the smart mouth is also there. Of course Derek feels like he’s going to throw up when he hears the Sheriff’s words “So it appears you’ve met my son, Stiles.” Of course Derek just wants the earth to swallow him whole when he finds out he has knocked up a teenager! One that is still a high school senior at that!

Things aren’t good for anyone.

After a long few weeks Derek takes Stiles to meet with the rest of the Hales. The walk of shame is mortifying (nothing like the whole room knowing you fucked AND fucked up). The family talks about the plan for the upcoming baby and asks all sorts of invasive questions meanwhile Stiles can’t believe his luck. Who gets pregnant the one and only time they ever had sex? Also some of the people here think he did this on purpose? Because money??? Yeah sure let’s create a whole new life just for a little sprinkle sprinkle or whatever. Derek probably hates his guts and half his family thinks he’s a gold digger. Now they’re talking about him living there? In this massive house in the woods?? Now they’re roommates and Stiles has to grow a whole human in a creepy mansion, away from his dad, while figuring out graduation, and dealing with the moodiest baby daddy (though he can’t really blame him. He’d be pissed too) and also Derek’s weird uncle who lives in the basement seems convinced that Stiles is a highly manipulative temptress who just wants to love off of child support. It’s going to be a long few months and an even longer 18 years.

[dontcallpanic]

Not-Wednesday WIP

@patolemus AND @gege-wondering-around were kind and sweet enough to tag me in a Not-Wednesday WIP (which is still mindblowing to me thank you SO much gorgeous people!) I was hoping to share a creepy bit from my Strange Town AU but my brain isnt working (as per usual) so have a bit of Stiles and his Dad instead (also yes, Stiles is meeting everyone BUT Derek so far in this slowest of slow burn stereks)

__________________________

“Jesus, kid, you nearly gave me a heart attack. Do you know how close I was to calling in a 10-65? You had minutes. Minutes Stiles.”

Stiles pauses and squints at the phone. “Do you even know where I am?”

“Oh please kid. Who do you think you’re talking to?”

“Well then… how can I be missing if you know where I am?” he says, figuring he can push his luck now he can hear his dad finally relaxing. Besides, there’s the tiniest of chances that if he can keep talking, his dad will forget all about the phone thing.

“Look kid, I’m not in the mood for a debate but as far as I’m concerned if you’re not here, you’re missing. That means, if you’re going to be gallivanting around god knows where, it’s my prerogative, as your father, to take certain precautionary measures.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Stiles shoots back. “Did you bug my car or something?

There is a lengthy pause on the end of the line.

“Oh my god! You bugged my car!”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I didn’t bug your car. I put GPS on my car which I then gave to you.”

Stiles splutters, stammering over his words in indignation. “Wha – Well, I – That… is a technicality. At best! And technically it was mums car.”

“It’s my name on the paperwork son.”

“Technicality!” Stiles shouts down the phone but he’s smiling now. He can’t even be mad about it. Okay, that’s not true. He’s a little mad about it – a lot really but he'll unpack that later. Right here, right now, after the night he's just had, he can’t help but be comforted that his dad cares enough to want to know where he is, that he is in-fact alive and okay - gross levels of intrusiveness aside. He just wishes he'd asked first.

“Some deputy you are,” he mutters but there’s no heat in his words. “Does the Sheriff know what kind of hardened criminal he has working for him?”

John snorts and Stiles counts it as a win that he can get a laugh out of him. He’s as good as forgiven.

“Some deputy I’d be if I didn’t know how to utilise the loopholes when it comes to looking out for my own son.

Stiles gives the phone some serious side eye. “You are spending way too much time with Melissa. This was totally her idea, wasn’t it?”

John huffs a laugh again. “I just worry about you son.”

And dammit! Because Stiles can hear everything his dad isn’t saying in those words. He can hear the stress he’s been under at work, the stress Stiles puts him through, even though he doesn’t mean it or just can’t seem to help it. He hears the exhaustion in his sigh, the double shifts, the overtime… the loneliness.

He can hear just how much his dad misses him.

How much he misses his mum.

Stiles slows his pacing and drops wearily onto the edge of the bed. He scrubs a hand roughly through his hair, sighing into the phone.

“I know dad,” he murmurs, grimacing at the twist of guilt he feels in his gut. It cuts him up inside, to know he left his dad behind. But the guilt is never quite enough for him to think about going back. Not right now.

There’s a million things left unsaid between them.

“Do you know when you’re coming home?”

“No. Not yet.”

He hears John give a gentle sigh. “Whenever you’re ready, son.”

Stiles blinks hard against the emotion pricking his eyes and feels an overwhelming rush of gratitude towards him. Gratitude and relief.

“I love you dad.”

“I love you too, kid.”

“I’ll check in tomorrow – even if it’s just a text. I’ll check in.”

“Alright.” They linger on the phone for a moment, unwilling to end the call, both needing the reassuring presence of the other on the line before John clears his throat and gruffly adds:

“Just charge your goddamn phone!”

___________________

Forever no-pressure tags, just for whoever wants to share at any time or at any point: @gege-wondering-around @patolemus @hellameyers

And generally anyone else who has something they want to share, please feel free to tag me because I LOVE to see what everyone's writing!

[nixeleth]

WIP Whenever

I was tagged by @dear-massacre... um... a week ago? More? Less? The point is, I was tagged to share a snippet from a WIP, and for the first time this year, I actually have something to share. This is from the first part of what is going to be a stupidly long series that fuses Teen Wolf with Skyrim, Life in a Northern Town. Even just posting this, I'm already reformating parts of it in my head, so that should give an idea of how very much "in-progress" it is:

The village of Falkreath was known for its graveyard. Rather than an actual Hall of the Dead where the deceased citizens of Falkreath Hold were entombed, as was the custom in most parts of Skyrim, they instead joined the ranks of a large, sprawling cemetery. The resident priest of Arkay oversaw their burials and otherwise kept to his nearby home, where he held rites for the god of life and death, and led mourners in services for their departed loved ones.

Outside of the small hold capitol, the cemetery was nearly <i>all</i> that Falkreath was known for. The Pine Forest had legends of its own, and the old magic of the woods was often enough to spur wary travelers past the unassuming road leading to the village in their haste to break through the trees before nightfall. Those who were brave (or avaricious) enough to shrug off superstition and remain found that the villagers had long embraced its reputation, and that death had inevitably settled into their way of life.

From the innkeeper at Dead Man’s Drink to the alchemists selling poultices and poisons at Grave Concoctions, Falkreath’s citizens were well-practiced in attracting the business of the morbidly curious. Just like they were similarly adept at drawing their attention <i>away</i> from the mages who placed the wards on the graves that made sure the dead remained restful, or the men who dug the graves in the first place. Death may have been the village’s tourist trap, but the actual trappings of death were bad for business.

Which meant having to slip out of the house just before dawn and stumbling down to the cemetery, still half-asleep, if Stiles wanted to catch up to Isaac before he was finished. The sounds of his trek across one side of town to the other were exaggerated by the slumbering stillness of the early morning, from the sharp crack of the door's creaking hinges as it closed behind him, to the crunching of grass and dirt beneath his feet, made crisp by the frost that had settled overnight. In less than an hour’s time, the sun would warm the earth just enough to clear away the frost, but a thick fog would rise up in its place, looming over most of the hold like a burial shroud until nearly nightfall.

Stiles moved quickly through the dark without a need for carrying a torch or casting Candlelight, able to find his way as the stars were gradually washed out of the sky. He’d only made it about halfway to his destination before he started to regret not throwing on more clothes despite his haste to leave without waking his father, curling his hands together and blowing into already-stinging fingers to warm them before tucking them under his armpits. He kept his arms folded tightly over his chest as he passed by the beginning of the long, stone wall dividing the cemetery from the rest of the village, and it wasn’t much longer after that he was able to make out the faint, flickering glow of a lantern in the distance.

Isaac Lahey was tall even for a Nord, his head and arms still popping up above the ground every few seconds while he drove a shovel into the frozen earth.

[violetfairydust]

WIP Wednesday

Thank you for tagging me @dear-massacre <3

I have the opposite problem. I usually have so many WIPs going on at once I'll do a little of each and then barely anything gets done lol.

-

Derek didn’t mind if his friends were too busy having eye sex to notice him. Erica and Boyd didn’t have many overlapping classes and lunch was the only time they could lose themselves in each other without getting yelled at by Mr. Harris. Isaac spent most of his time trying to flirt with Cora subtly enough Derek wouldn’t notice. So far Isaac had not succeeded in evading Derek’s attention. It wasn’t something Derek enjoyed hearing, especially as the only single friend in the group, but sitting outside in the March weather made it a little easier to take.

The lacrosse team typically sat outside for lunch. Derek sat on the bench as his eyes skirted over the players scattered around until he found the one he was looking for. Even just glancing in his direction made Derek’s cheeks warm. It was good his friends were busy, they would tease him relentlessly if they knew about his crush. It was easy to get away with pretending most of the year, but the gold and blue colored posters littered the hallways promoting prom. Almost every day Erica asked if he had a date or if she would have to set him up with someone. He couldn’t say anything. It was out of the question. He’d never hear the end of it.

He could have tried out for the lacrosse team for a single chance to stare longer, but he didn’t have talent for the sport. He thought about swim for the months leading up to the season. The second he saw him in the uniform, he dropped the idea. He would have been dropped from the team in two seconds if not for staring, but probably making him uncomfortable.

“Derek!” Erica called.

He blinked and turned his attention to her. He reached for his soda can casually. “Sorry. What did you say?”

Her lips curled into a smirk. “Prom? Don’t make me find you a date.”

He was tired of her pushing it. “I don’t think I’m going to go.”

She straightened her back and twisted towards him. “You’re not going? Why not? It’s supposed to be a group thing.”

“Is it because you’re a loser without a date?” his sister prompted coldly.

“Any guy would be lucky to have you,” Erica continued. “Seriously.”

“Is Erica too pushy?” Isaac asked. “Even I’m getting tired of hearing her yap at you about prom. Just find a date so she'll shut up.”

Derek dropped his head. He wasn’t going to tell them. If his sister was mocking him enough already, how bad would it get if he said anything? He sighed. The guy was gorgeous, obviously. He also had a girlfriend because that’s how things worked out for Derek. He didn’t want to admit to the jealousy that festered in his chest every time he saw them walk down the hallway. He didn’t know which would be more embarrassing to tell his friends, who he liked or that he was jealous of Lydia Martin.

“No, it’s not that,” Derek said. “I’m not a great dancer if you haven’t noticed.”

“I have,” Cora said unhelpfully.

He ignored her. “And everyone already has a date that’s going.”

“Maybe not,” Erica pushed. “Who are you thinking of?”

“No one,” he stammered, “I’m just saying.”

“Oh, come on. Who is it?” Erica smiled playfully.

There was no way around it, not an easy way at least. And he was not about to say Jackson’s name. Derek’s eyes scanned the crowd in front of him. Two guys were practicing backshots and one of them tripped over himself and smacked into the ground. He groaned loudly, but recomposed himself and tried again. Yeah, sure. He worked.

“Stiles.”

[tails89]

Thanks @parkkrys for tagging me!!

7 sentences meme: The rules are as follows: go to page 7 of your WIP, go to the 7th line, share 7 sentences, and tag 7 more writer-bloggers to continue the challenge.

This is from a Teen Wolf fic I'm working on.

*

Derek’s not sure what time it is when he’s jerked back to consciousness. It’s still pitch black in their room, set too far back from the road for the street lights to penetrate the gloom. He almost drifts off again before he hears it.  

A gasp and a stifled whine. 

Rolling over under the covers, Derek turns to face Stiles.

The teenager is on his side. He’s curled in on himself, hands clawing at the sheets.

“No—” He buries his face in his pillow, body shaking. “I don’t—”

No pressure if you don't what to do it. I'm tagging @ash-mcj @nutellarghh @fairytales-and-folklore @jmeelee @edge0fmydesiree @an-optimist-prime @clotpolesonly

[defenselesswriter]

the beginning of the single dad!stiles fic i’ve been working on

Stiles has a made a lot of mistakes in his life. One time, he convinced Scott to go through the woods with him, they got lost, and lost Scott’s inhaler. Another time, he drank too much at a frat party at school and only remembers waking up in the quad in his underwear.

As he stares at Lily, he knows that she’s something he will never consider a mistake. It may have been a crappy relationship that led to her conception, but he won’t ever regret having this tiny human in his life. She has made his life so much better, and she has taught him so much about love and patience in only nine months. He will forever treasure her and love her, and nothing could ever change his mind about that.

Then she wakes up from her nap, blinking up at him in her crib, and she immediately starts screaming. Still, Stiles regrets nothing because it brought her to him.

He scoops her up and blows into her bare belly, which distracts her for a second and stops the screaming. Shifting her to his hip, he walks downstairs towards the kitchen, talking to her as he goes.

“Did you have a bad dream?” he asks. “Is that why you woke up in such a sour mood? It’s okay. Your dad here has had his fair share of nightmares. It happens, sweetheart.”

Once in the kitchen, he mixes up a bottle of formula, shaking it up as he dances around with Lily so she giggles, clutching tightly to his shirt. Her giggles are his favorite sound in the entire world. He leans in and kisses her cheek, feeling her smile get bigger. When he leans back, she looks at him with her big brown eyes, and Stiles swears she understands more than any nine month old could.

He gets her settled in her high chair, buckling her in and sliding the tray in front of her. He goes back into the kitchen where he can still see her and she him.

“Do you want some banana?” he asks. “I think bananas sound great right now. What do you think?”

She coos at him before grabbing her bottle and tilting her head back to drink from it.

He nods. “Fair enough.” He chops up a banana, eating bits here and there as he cuts the pieces small enough for her to munch on but not too small she could choke. He’s done a lot of research on feeding babies. It’s amazing how much he has changed. A mere two years ago, he was writing papers on male circumcision and now his browser history is full of searches like, “What foods are good for babies at what stages?” and “How do I know I’m a good father?”.

He slides the banana pieces on a plate and drops it on Lily’s tray. She squeals and throws her bottle on the floor to free up her hands. Stiles can’t help but laugh because her flailing and easy excitement definitely came from him.

He sits at the table to watch her eat. Her tiny, chubby hands fumble in trying to grab banana, but the look of pride on her own face that probably mirrors her father’s when she picks one up is priceless. She shoves a piece in her mouth and claps her hands when she looks at Stiles.

“You’re welcome,” he says, interpreting her happiness as being grateful. After a few minutes of watching her eat, he stands up and goes to the kitchen to eat the rest of the banana and look through the cabinets to decide what he’ll have for lunch. His diet has definitely regressed into early college years of ramen and mac and cheese cups because they’re so easy to make and to clean up. Lily and work takes up a lot of his time and energy, so efficiency and ease are key.

He’s grateful he can work from home at his own pace and time, but he does kind of miss socializing. Scott and Allison come over almost every weekend to hangout, but Stiles rarely leaves his own house. Besides getting groceries and taking Lily to the park, he’s homebound. He wasn’t much of an extrovert anyway. Still… it would be nice to have a partner and help with Lily.

Sitting at the table with his bowl of ramen, he watches Lily with her banana again. When she starts crying, he leans over to grab her bottle and sets it back on her tray. That seems to be exactly what she wanted as she stops crying to drink her formula. He puts his elbow on the table and lean his chin onto his hand, eyes drooping. He wishes he could’ve napped while she did, but instead he worked on a project for work.

Stiles jerks away when the now empty bottle is thrown onto the table. He takes a deep breath and scoops some cool ramen into his mouth. Lily is content to watch him eat for now. Maybe because he’s making funny noises as he slurps up noodles.

He pulls his phone out of his pocket and snaps a picture of his baby because she is the cutest ever. Even with banana in her brown curls. Then he does what he meant to do when he pulled his phone out: he texts his dad.

Stiles: You working tonight?

Dad: Nope. Need a break?

Stiles: Pleeeeeease

His dad agrees to come over around dinner time with food, and Stiles is forever grateful of his dad. For the first six months of Lily’s life, they lived in his dad’s house while Stiles saved up for his own place. Three months ago, he managed to rent his own house, but his dad is still more than happy to help out with his grandbaby. Lily and his dad bonded in those first six months. Stiles has never seen his dad look at something with so much adoration and awe. Stiles is sure his own face looks the same sometimes. Or maybe all the time.

Lily always makes grabby hands at his dad. She loves him too, especially when he talks to her. She stops everything and stares at him in complete concentration when he does. His two favorite people loving each other so much fills him with so much happiness that he didn’t know was possible.

Stiles has made a lot of mistakes, but Lily is and never will be one of them.

[whispering-sumire755]

Drabble Da Boo Dee

Scott freezes when he sees Erica, Isaac, and Boyd together next.

He fears for them, for all of them, and dreads the war he believes Derek's dragged them into. Part of him's terrified of who will become the hero of this story, because the heroes only ever outlive the monsters by a day, and, technically, they're all monsters, now.

Erica's in a delicately designed ebony-night, golden-starred crochet halter-top.

Boyd's wearing a sleek, chestnut beanie embroidered with braid-knit ivy.

Isaac's wearing a storm-gray scarf, covered in twilight kittens playing with neon-pink dragons.

"Oh, shit," Scott says, knowing exactly what this means.

A/N  :: (One), (Two), Three

[dontcallpanic]

A bit late as always but I was tagged by the incredible @patolemus and the wonderful @gege-wondering-around to do a WIP-Whenever!

If you happen to be reading this, do yourself a favour and go and check out their WIPs! I am still reeling!

Disclaimer: This is still the Strange Small Town au but it's something i've written recently and its wildly unedited at the moment - and I'm dyslexic so please, please, please tell me if I have a dumb typo. I will not be embarassed - nothing can embarass me anymore, not after repeatedly mixing up tests and testes for my (bound and submitted) disseration!

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A book tucked high up on the shelf catches his eye – B. H. Lore

He doesn't know why this one in particular grabs his attention but he finds himself slipping it off the shelf before he can think twice.

What surprises him more than anything else, though, is how the book is entirely handwritten. He frowns, quick fingers leafing though, scanning page after page of elegant script and unbelievably detailed drawings of... monsters?

Honest to god, straight out of an arcane legend, monsters.

Stiles arches an eyebrow, hardly daring to believe that the first book he selected is an actual, real life, bestiary.

It looks genuine too, Stiles can see where the pen has dug into the paper, tiny blots of ink scattered from the ends of words. He can feel the indents, see the imperfections in the ink, the discolouration of time. The cover seems like leather, embossed with faded gold lettering. In short, this book is old as balls. And if it's not autentic well, it's one hell of an art project.

Stiles hmms to himself, teeth pursing his lips together as he turns this anomaly over in his mind.

This book looks like it's straight out of someone's private collection, so what is it doing on a publicly accessible library shelf?

His fingertips tingle, a shock of anticipation thrilling through him. He feels as if he might actually be getting somewhere now. Somehow he knows this book has the answers to his questions. Well, maybe not the ones about human combustion, but definitely the ones about red-eyed monsters lurking in the woods.

His hands still of their own accord, the book falling open to an ink sketch of a large, ancient tree and a chill shivers down his spine. He's never seen anything like it. The sheer detail is... breathtaking.

The drawing spans the entire width of the book, intricate roots twining down to fall off the edges and long branches stretching out like fingers. All along the limbs of the tree, there is writing, minute, cursive and arcane. He leans forward bringing the book closer, nose almost touching the page as he squints to make out what it says.

Sing over bones...

“Interesting choice."

Stiles jumps, startling to attention and nearly drops the book. He fumbles it, bouncing the book physically between his palms, his face screwed with the agony of trying to protect the delicate, leather bound tome from complete destruction.

The book falls open as his palm gets a grip on the back cover and Stiles watches with the kind of slow motion that only horror can bring as an entire ream of paper slips from the front and scatters like glass across the floor.

The world freezes as Stiles stares at the destruction around him before he slowly, ever so slowly, turns his head to look at the woman who's eyes are now blazing with a fury that could set fire to his entire soul.

“In my defence,” he starts before the red-headed Valkyrie can even open her mouth. “You startled me.”

__________________

For next week, or whenever, always no pressure whatsoever tags are: @patolemus @gege-wondering-around @hellameyers and whoever else wants to share! As always thank you for reading and I hope nice things come your way!