adelate + fic   1965

A Better Idea
Crowley sleeps for five days, eats pancakes, and is brave enough for both of them.
fic  slash  Good_Omens  Aziraphale/Crowley  oh_my_heart  [NC-17]  wc:05_000-10_000  a:copperbadge 
yesterday by adelate
Cocoa Anniversary
Even after 6,000 years and then some, wires do sometimes get crossed.
fic  slash  Good_Omens  Aziraphale/Crowley  socute  wc:01_000-05_000  [G]  a:james 
3 days ago by adelate
Build Our Kingdom
“Ready for lunch?” Crowley drops to his knees to start unbuckling the straps on the basket as though this is something they do all the time; as though he hasn’t just effortlessly catapulted Aziraphale back in time almost fifty years.

“You remembered,” Aziraphale breathes as wonder courses through him. He mentioned something once during an awkward moment, half a century ago, and now here kneels a demon atop a picnic blanket.

“Hmm?” Crowley barely shoots him a sidelong glance as he concentrates on opening the basket.

Aziraphale’s eyes do not move from him. “You remembered,” he repeats, no less stunned. “Crowley, you really didn’t have to.”

Crowley’s hands still. Eventually, his eyes still on the basket, he murmurs, “Well, we did The Ritz, didn’t we?”
fic  slash  Good_Omens  Aziraphale/Crowley  oh_my_heart  pining  wc:05_000-10_000  [G]  a:Mackem 
8 days ago by adelate
You, Soft and Only
Aziraphale actually surprised the Hell out of him, the first time. It was way back in dusty Mesopotamia, and they had been sharing a jug of something alcoholic—not great, but the best available. It was, Crowley remembered, a string of very hot days, and he was idly thinking about curling up somewhere dark and quiet in serpent form and having a nap.

That he was eyeing the hem of Aziraphale’s robe for this purpose was neither here nor there.

In any case—they were minding their own business in a public house, drinking steadily but not immoderately, when a man walked in.

The mortal reeked of Heaven’s favor, which made Crowley want to sneeze, except he’d never gotten the hang of sneezing. And Aziraphale—

Aziraphale looked very much as though he’d like to crawl under the hem of Crowley’s robe and just not come out.

“Trouble?” Crowley murmured solicitously.

”No,” Aziraphale lied poorly.

Crowley took a close look at the man in question, the kind of close look only an angel or a demon could take. He snorted. “That was a fire that didn’t need any kindling.”

“I have my orders,” Aziraphale said with a pinched look on his face.

“And they’re coming this way,” Crowley said dryly.

Aziraphale’s expression turned desperate, and all right—even then, Crowley had been weak to the slightest suggestion that he might in some way give Aziraphale what he needed.

Still—he hadn’t expected a sudden lapful of angel.

“Very sorry about this,” Aziraphale said, and kissed him.
fic  slash  Good_Omens  Aziraphale/Crowley  pretend_marriage/relationship  pining  oh_my_heart  [NC-17]  wc:05_000-10_000  a:thehoyden 
13 days ago by adelate
By Definition
Aziraphale has certainly dabbled in the world of carnal delights over the years, most notably in the late nineteenth century, when a certain infernal adversary was enjoying a century-long nap and seemingly the only way to pass the time had been to develop some hobbies.
fic  slash  Good_Omens  Aziraphale/Crowley  [NC-17]  wc:01_000-05_000  a:idiopathicsmile 
13 days ago by adelate
Belle Chose
"I've not—not personally used this one, no."

Crowley smiles something wicked, but not in the wicked-bad way. More like the wicked-wonderful way that makes Aziraphale's chest feel full and his lips pull in a returning smile.

"No? Oh, Angel," Crowley croons, shaking his head slowly. "You've been missing out, then."

//

In which Crowley shows Aziraphale how fun a vagina can be.
fic  slash  Good_Omens  Aziraphale/Crowley  hot_like_burning  PWP  established_relationship  [NC-17]  wc:01_000-05_000  a:cal1brations 
17 days ago by adelate
get religion quick (cause you're looking divine)
So it was fine. Even if Crowley couldn’t love him, he clearly liked him well enough, and that was almost the same thing.

It no doubt would have continued to be fine, or at least fine-adjacent, were it not for a narrowly averted apocalypse and several bottles of a really quite nice Riesling Aziraphale had found in the back room of his newly restored bookshop.

Notes:
listen if you want something done you gotta do it yourself. this fic started with this post, which took off, and then I decided I wanted an actual fic of it so. the title is from "breakthru" because, as we all know, titles left in the vicinity of good omens fic for more than a fortnight metamorphose into queen lyrics.

opinions expressed by the angel in this fic are not necessarily indicative of the opinions of the author because aziraphale is a dumb gay dingus.

Work Text:
There were three things of which Aziraphale was absolutely certain:

As an angel, he was contractually obligated to love all of God’s creatures, and that included demons.
He loved Crowley far beyond what could, even generously, be termed general, all-encompassing angelic love.
Crowley, being a demon, would never, and could never, love him back.
And that was fine. Or, not fine exactly, but over the course of several thousand years, it became fine, or at least fine-adjacent. Pining wasn’t, strictly speaking, very angelic, but sacrifice was the main component of most of the major virtues, and anyway, the Ten Commandments didn’t say anything about it, so Aziraphale figured he was probably in the clear. Even if the line between pining and coveting was, at best, extremely blurry.
fic  slash  Good_Omens  Aziraphale/Crowley  [G]  wc:01_000-05_000  a:brinnanza 
24 days ago by adelate
A Home at the Beginning of the World
"Oh," Aziraphale says. "I think Crowley might have moved in with me."

//

It starts with the plant. More specifically, it starts on Wednesday, at forty minutes past ten in the morning, when Crowley comes swaggering into the bookshop holding a potted plant. It's remarkably sunny out for London, so the bookshop is a bit empty, except for the one customer Aziraphale is ringing out with the Oscar Wilde text, only because it's a fifth edition reprint and only because she's going through such a hard time. Crowley leans against a bookshelf and peers down like he can see up and over the lenses of his sunglasses. As soon as the customer is out the door, he shoves the plant in Aziraphale's face.
fic  slash  Good_Omens  Aziraphale/Crowley  oh_my_heart  [NC-17]  wc:05_000-10_000  a:stereobone 
28 days ago by adelate
a city wall and a trampoline
In their cottage in the South Downs, when Crowley eventually succeeds in getting Aziraphale to use a laptop, it takes Aziraphale literal hours to get past the default Windows screensavers of picturesque locations because 'oh, look, isn't it lovely, Crowley!'

-

5 times Crowley knows he’s in love with Aziraphale + 1 time he knows the reverse.
fic  slash  Good_Omens  Aziraphale/Crowley  oh_my_heart  [PG-13]  wc:01_000-05_000  a:kafkian 
28 days ago by adelate
Regulars
Today, Sunday, there's a sense of rightness and quiet. Outside, he hears birdsong that reminds him of home. Rashid drops sugar cubes in each tiny glass bowl—refined white for Lapsang Souchong, demerara for Earl Grey—and readies the tea tray for delivery.

//

Mayfair

Harriet turns down the telly for a few seconds, straining to listen. She knows the sound of those footsteps by heart, partly because the young man who makes them has been living in the flat upstairs for about ten years now. The reason she really remembers them, however, is something she couldn't put her finger on for a very long while, but eventually figured out, and she's proud of that fact. He has the lightest, quickest footfalls she's ever heard: soft and smooth, as if he's scarcely touching the ground.
fic  slash  Good_Omens  Aziraphale/Crowley  outsider_pov  wc:01_000-05_000  [PG]  a:irisbleufic 
28 days ago by adelate
Set me as a seal upon your heart, / as a seal upon your arm;
Sometime in the future, Aziraphale and Crowley go on a picnic. Aziraphale does a magic trick.

Alt. title is "Picnic Park Proposal."

//

They don’t picnic often, but doing so is another indulgence they are able to share in, now.

Spring is fading into summer. They’ve just caught the edge of it: the abundant cherry trees lining the through-way and scattered across the green are in full bloom, magnolias and various other botanical wonders joining in. It is uncommonly mild, warm with a bit of a breeze, no rain on the horizon. Lovely weather for a holiday—and clearly locals and tourists alike had thought so, too, with the vibrancy of activity surrounding the area. Laughter fills the air. The park is filled with a pleasant geniality of spirit, good food and easy conversation and the warmth of companionship and the spark of play.

It is no small joy, to be surrounded by such love, and Aziraphale basks in it as Crowley does the sun.
fic  slash  Good_Omens  Aziraphale/Crowley  wc:05_000-10_000  [PG-13]  a:yolkinthejump 
4 weeks ago by adelate
Anthophilia
Anthony J. Crowley's life seems like it's finally falling into place: his floral shop has begun to gain an undercurrent of appreciation in the design elite of London, and he might have even finally found a boyfriend who looks just right lounging on his Tenreiro sofa. Things seem almost perfect, until one day the empty shop across the street is leased to frumpy fellow Oxford alumni, who doesn't seem to remember Crowley nearly as well as he remembers him, which really shouldn't bother him as much as it does - it was ten years ago after all, and it wasn't even that good of a kiss.

//

There's a lorry across the street. It's been there for some time, and it doesn't seem to have any intention of moving in the near future. The side of it reads "Charles and Son’s Moving" in bold, chipped blue letters, with a small illustration of some obscenely radiant mover grinning along side, and all the shameful apostrophe usage one might expect. The traffic on the thin cobbled street outside the shop continues to weave around it awkwardly, clogging up the already limited passage.
fic  slash  Good_Omens  Aziraphale/Crowley  AU  flowershop  Crowley/OC  Anathema_Device  wc:45_000-50_000  [NC-17]  a:FortinbrasFTW 
4 weeks ago by adelate
Photo Number 69
A photo of Makoto, and how it accidentally uncovers the insecurities they have.

//

On October of his second year of high school, two weeks shy after Iwatobi High School Cultural Festival, Rin stares at the photo Gou had sent him through LINE, hesitates for half an hour, and then finally calls Haruka.

"Your school's photography club," he says without preamble when Haruka finally picks up after five missed calls. There's a distinct sound of water on the other side, and Rin is a hundred percent sure Haruka is annoyed because Rin is intruding on his private soaking time, but this is sort of an emergency. "Gou said they already published the Cultural Festival photos and you can buy them for 100 yen each."

A brief silence, punctuated with a distant sound of bubbles popping. Haruka must have submerged half of his face in the water. Rin is probably on speaker. ".....is Makoto there?"

A splash. A few seconds of nothing, and then a lazy, "...no."

"Oh, good. Because I need you to buy this photo—" Rin pauses to check the earlier picture that Gou had sent: an entire wall of Cultural Festival photos tacked on it, each photo sporting a number. "Number 69."
fic  slash  Free!  Makoto/Rin  Tachibana_Makoto  Matsuoka_Rin  Nanase_Haruka  wc:01_000-05_000  [PG]  a:isuilde 
september 2018 by adelate
A Plethora of Seconds
A bunch of drabbles written on the train.

//

Rainy season in Tokyo is largely different from Iwatobi's. Makoto doesn't like it less, because some things stay the same.

//

On their second meeting, Kirishima Natsuya wears a green jacket.

Rin nearly gets a heart attack, when the corner of his eye catches a glimpse of a finely built man with green jacket and fluffy, nearly untameable brown hair. His brain catches up a split second later because there is no way Makoto is here, don't be stupid, Matsuoka—and he takes a breath before walking over towards the figure and opening his mouth and calling out, "Oi, Kirishima."

//

The ocean sparkles, dyed gold by the sunrise. Rin inhales deeply, fills his lungs with chilly winter air as he digs his heels deeper in the sand.

//

He does a double take on the corner to the convenience store, and jogs back to find the cat lounging on the fence. She yawns at him when he takes her picture, and Makoto gets a second to scratch behind her ear with a laugh as he sends the photo to Rin.
fic  slash  Free!  Makoto/Rin  Tachibana_Makoto  Matsuoka_Rin  Kirishima_Natsuya  wc:01_000-05_000  [PG]  a:isuilde 
september 2018 by adelate
「連絡」
連絡 - renraku - (v) to contact, to get in touch, (n) communication, call, message.



"So Makoto," Kisumi turns to him. "Do you know how Rin did?"

"Ah, yeah," Makoto smiles. "He contacted me the other day..."

(There are lots of ways to contact your boyfriend and tell them how you’re doing. Matsuoka Rin just likes a direct, face-to-face way.)
fic  slash  Free!  Free!_3x09  Makoto/Rin  Tachibana_Makoto  Matsuoka_Rin  domestic  oh_my_heart  wc:01_000-05_000  [PG-13]  a:isuilde 
september 2018 by adelate
Bend Me, Break Me
Sousuke blinks, his right arm quickly swinging down to his side, tendons pulling painfully at his shoulder blade due to the tricep curl he had to abort midway. “I’m sorry, could you repeat that?”

Rin scowls and looks down, a fierce blush riding high along his cheekbones. He scruffs the tip of his sneaker into the ground before meeting Sousuke’s gaze again. “I said,” he enunciates clearly, as if to ensure that Sousuke would not mishear him again. “Would you be interested in fucking my boyfriend?”
fic  slash  Free!  Makoto/Rin  Makoto/Sousuke  Makoto/Rin/Sousuke  Rin/Sousuke  Matsuoka_Rin  Tachibana_Makoto  Yamazaki_Sousuke  PWP  kink  wc:20_000-25_000  [NC-17]  a:Ad_Astra 
september 2018 by adelate
A Sudden Change of Heart
Rin doesn't expect to fall in love with his sister's too-nice boyfriend.

//

It doesn’t matter how many times Gou texts him – Rin isn’t going to answer.  Does he give a shit if she’s suddenly the manager of Iwatobi’s pathetic excuse for a swim club?  Fuck no.  Rin has better shit to do.

The texts keep coming, though, and when Rin finally checks his phone, there are thirty unread messages from Gou.  Wow.

After he sorts through all of the stupid emojis and updates on her precious swim club’s progress (they still placed fifth at the last meet – Rin’s hardly impressed), he tosses the phone aside with a scoff and lays back on his bed.  Nothing important, just as he’d predicted.
fic  slash  Free!  Makoto/Rin  Matsuoka_Rin  Tachibana_Makoto  Matsuoka_Gou  pining  wc:10_000-15_000  [NC-17]  a:anditwasstinky 
september 2018 by adelate
His Fate, Tinted Red
Makoto was twelve when his mother sat him down on her lap for the first time since he was five, and told him about how meeting your soulmate brought in colors into your world, and how lucky he was to have found his soulmate at a young age of twelve.

By the time he was twelve and a half, Makoto had learned the names of all colors, preferred blue skies over grey skies, understood why goldfish were called goldfish, loved the color green, had an odd fascination with the color red, and wished he would one day figure out who, among the countless kids attending the swim meet, was his soulmate.

//

Colors had flooded his entire world in an exhilarating rush at the tender age of twelve.

It was the red, at first. Always the red. He’d blinked when he bumped into one of the boys from another swim club in one of the swim meets, and the corner of his eyes caught a streak of brilliant, beautiful red flowing past him, and Makoto had frozen in place because what was that ?
fic  slash  Free!  Makoto/Rin  Nagisa/Rei  Gou/Seijuurou  Tachibana_Makoto  Matsuoka_Rin  Nanase_Haruka  Matsuoka_Gou  Hazuki_Nagisa  Ryuugazaki_Rei  Yamazaki_Sousuke  Mikoshiba_Seijuurou  soulmates  pining  made_me_cry  oh_my_heart  wc:05_000-10_000  [PG-13]  a:isuilde 
september 2018 by adelate
Loose Ends
Rin's just trying to be a good big brother. No, really.

//

Rin’s the first to admit that he isn’t winning any prizes in the big brother category, but all the same, he does love Gou.  She can be overbearing and manipulative and irritating as all hell, but still.  She’s his baby sister.  Which is why, when he arrives at home late one Saturday morning with a sack of dirty laundry in the hopes that his mother will take pity on him and wash it, and he hears a muffled whimpering sound coming from upstairs, he drops everything and bolts to Gou’s room and flings the door open.

Gou practically jumps off her bed and lets out a startled squeak.  “Onii-chan?  You scared me.  What are you doing here?”  There are crumpled tissues all around her and she looks an absolute mess.

“Are you crying?” Rin demands, eyes narrowed angrily.  “Who made you cry?”
fic  slash  Free!  Makoto/Rin  Tachibana_Makoto  Matsuoka_Rin  Matsuoka_Gou  Nanase_Haruka  Hazuki_Nagisa  Ryuugazaki_Rei  wc:10_000-15_000  [NC-17]  a:four_sweatervests 
september 2018 by adelate
Point and line to plane
Nagisa sets Makoto up (for way more than he bargained for...)

//

"Mako-chan, Mako-chan, I've solved all your problems!"

A blond hurricane landed right on Makoto's rice bowl, knocking it over. Makoto straightened up, ignoring his abused meal. "I don't mean to be rude, but somehow that doesn't seem true, Nagisa."
fic  slash  Free!  Makoto/Rin  Haru/Makoto  Haru/Rin  Haru/Makoto/Rin  Nagisa/Rei  college!fic  Tachibana_Makoto  Matsuoka_Rin  Nanase_Haruka  Hazuki_Nagisa  Ryuugazaki_Rei  Yamazaki_Sousuke  [NC-17]  a:trixiechick  wc:15_000-20_000 
september 2018 by adelate
Dining In
“Mornin’,” Steve says.

“Get over here,” Bucky replies.
fic  slash  The_Avengers  Bucky/Steve  kink  face_sitting  hot_like_burning  wc:01_000-05_000  [NC-17]  a:ipoiledi 
april 2017 by adelate
A Soul as Sweet as Blood-Red Jam
It slips out. It just – slips out, and it takes half a second before Steve realizes what he’s said, and then he wants to die.

Or: Steve's daddy kink comes out to play while he's in bed with Bucky.
fic  slash  The_Avengers  Bucky/Steve  kink  hot_like_burning  wc:01_000-05_000  [NC-17]  a:pringlesaremydivision 
april 2017 by adelate
Think I'm Finally Clean
In which sub Bucky wishes for rougher handling by normally gentle dom Steve, and gets probably more than he bargained for.
fic  slash  The_Avengers  Bucky/Steve  kink  Dom/sub  hot_like_burning  wc:01_000-05_000  [NC-17]  a:fuck_me_barnes 
april 2017 by adelate
Reflexes
Bucky meets the team and manages to survive the experience, Tony is his usual dysfunctional self, and Steve pouts with deadly force.

//

When Bucky emerges from the lab, feeling wrung out and smug as fuck about it, Steve is sitting on one of the couches in the living room, reading from a tablet. He looks up, and immediately both flushes bright red and gives him the ultimate disappointed face. Normally, Bucky would feel awful about that, but the endorphins are currently cancelling out all of his shame.

“That was quick,” Steve says, sounding slightly strangled.

“We’re men of action,” Bucky says breezily. “What can I say?” Even his new arm feels well-fucked. The future is fantastic.

“Yeah, well,” Steve mutters, going even redder. Bucky despairs of him, but takes pity anyway.
fic  slash  The_Avengers  Bucky/Steve/Tony  Natasha_Romanova  Clint_Barton  Rhodey  Bruce_Banner  Thor  Phil_Coulson  Maria_Hill  Nick_Fury  hot_like_burning  wc:40_000-45_000  [R]  a:AlchemyAlice  Armed_and_Dangerous 
april 2017 by adelate
Impulse
Bucky is found by SHIELD. Tony wants a project. They meet somewhere in the middle.
---
The first three weeks, the only people he sees are the doctors, and Steve. Steve makes it bearable, but only just.

Steve worries and bites his lip, and practically bleeds his guilt all over the carpeting, and no matter how many times Bucky tells him that there wasn't anything he could have done, that he doesn't forgive Steve only because there was nothing to forgive in the first place, he can only garner a weak smile and a weaker promise that he'll be out soon, they'll let him out--into the future, holy shit--soon.

He gets restless, breaks his plastic water cup into shards, and throws them like darts at the walls.

Bullseye every time, even with his non-dominant arm.

His arm. Fuck.
fic  slash  The_Avengers  Bucky/Tony  Steve_Rogers  Armed_and_Dangerous  wc:01_000-05_000  [PG-13]  a:AlchemyAlice 
april 2017 by adelate
Conviction
“Why d’you want it?”

Steve swallows and his eyes search Bucky’s face, dark now. “I just,” he says, but his voice comes out hoarse, and so he tries it again. “I just do, Buck, I want — I want you to know that I trust you. I want to give you that.”
fic  slash  The_Avengers  Bucky/Steve  kink  hot_like_burning  [NC-17]  wc:01_000-05_000  a:ipoiledi 
february 2017 by adelate
The Care & Feeding of Steven G. Rogers
“Bucky,” Steve breathes out, awed, like he completely forgot that Bucky was here waiting for him. He lurches, fingers scrambling for purchase as he tries to get closer. “Bucky.”

“Hey now,” Bucky says, getting an arm around his waist and keeping their bodies pressed close. “It’s okay. It’s okay, I’m here. I’m right here, Stevie.”

Steve’s eyes dart across his face and then over his shoulder, to the counter. He looks down around them, one side and then the other. To all the places where he’s made a mess. When he looks back at Bucky, he looks even more upset than before.

“I’m sorry,” he says fast, desperate. “I’m sorry, I -- I’m sorry --”

Bucky shushes him, soft as his touches. “Hush,” he says, gentle. “I ain’t mad.”

Steve’s jaw snaps shut with an audible click, he’s so quick to obey.

His reward is a caress along his jaw and fingers carding through his hair, a thumb pressing into that spot just behind his ear. Steve moans, eyelashes fluttering, and a deep, hard shudder runs right through him, down to his toes. He leans further into the touches.
fic  slash  The_Avengers  Bucky/Steve  kink  hot_like_burning  [NC-17]  wc:05_000-10_000  a:greenbergsays 
february 2017 by adelate
My Normal Approach is Useless Here
Tony finds Bucky frozen in the Alps and brings him back, thinking it'll help Steve adjust to modern life if he's not alone. Unfortunately, he finds it has the side-effect of him becoming irrationally jealous.
fic  slash  The_Avengers  Steve/Tony  Bucky/Steve  Bucky/Steve/Tony  [R]  wc:10_000-15_000  a:windsweptfic 
november 2016 by adelate
Is It Pretending If I Already Want You?
Basic Steps to Getting Yourself In a Pickle With Both Your Family and The Guy You've Secretly Crushed On For Five Years (A Guide):

STEP 1: After being perpetually single and constantly making up excuses to your family, give in and lie about having a boyfriend.
STEP 2: Agree to bring said boyfriend to the family cottage for a week so he can be your date to your parents' wedding anniversary party.
STEP 3: Panic.
STEP 4: Say 'yes' when your best friend and closet crush - who you're convinced isn't interested in you that way in the least - offers to be your pretend boyfriend.
STEP 5: Try your best not to fall in love with them during the trip.
STEP 6: Fail miserably.
fic  slash  The_Avengers  Bucky/Steve  modern_day  AU  pretend_marriage/relationship  pining  oh_my_heart  hot_like_burning  [NC-17]  wc:85_000-90_000  a:OhCaptainMyCaptain 
august 2016 by adelate
13 going on 30 AU
“Do I look cool?” Derek asks, staring at himself in the hall mirror. The leather jacket’s a little big for him — it’s his dad’s — but he thinks it could look okay once he rolls up the sleeves.

Stiles snorts, fiddling with the hem of his baggy plaid overshirt. “You look like one of those drug dealers that hangs out in the park, dude. It’s uncanny.”

Derek gives him the finger.

“Hey, so,” Stiles rummages around in his backpack a minute and comes out with a slender present wrapped in blue tissue paper. “Happy birthday, dude.” 

Derek rips away the wrapping and it’s a comic book, thirty pages, hand-drawn by Stiles himself. 
fic  slash  Teen_Wolf  Derek/Stiles  AU  fusion:13_Going_on_30  adorable  [PG-13]  wc:01_000-05_000  a:bibliosexxual 
august 2016 by adelate
step out into the sun
"I gotta talk to you, buddy, real quick," Poe says lowly, and grabs Finn's hand to haul him back out of the mess hall. His pilot friends cheer loudly, Karé yelling something about keeping it decent, and Finn barely has a second to process it before Poe's yanking him away and into a deserted side corridor.

"I can explain," he says quickly, running his spare hand through his hair.

"Well good," Finn snaps hotly, "Because I've had a really fucking weird day."
_____________________________

Otherwise known as: Finn Is An Oblivious Numbskull, or: the one where Finn gets a name, a jacket, a droid, and a marriage out of nowhere in only a few short weeks
fic  slash  Star_Wars  Finn/Poe  pretend_marriage/relationship  pining  hot_like_burning  Rey  BB-8  Jessika_Pava  Karé_Kun  Iolo_Arana  Temmin_"Snap"_Wexley  Leia_Organa  [R]  wc:70_000-75_000  a:plutos 
july 2016 by adelate
tell me about the big bang
This is FN-2187’s earliest memory:

He is curled up in his bunk. He does not know it at the time, but fifteen, sixteen, seventeen years later, he will still be assigned the same bunk, whenever he’s on the Star Destroyer; he will sleep on the same thin, firm mattress, which smells like the harsh chemical wash they use to get blood and sweat and worse out, and he will stare at the same view he’s been staring at for his entire life: hundreds of identical bunks, hundreds of Troopers, some sleeping, most wide awake, shifting restlessly, trying to find a position that doesn’t hurt their aching muscles.

He is curled up in his bunk. He is four, maybe five years old. He does not remember what happened directly before this, as if he came into existence on his bunk, halfway through the night. He is staring straight ahead, at the metal frame of FN-2936’s bunk. FN-2936 herself is sleeping, or at least faking it well. Even at four years old, FN-2187 knows the signs of faking sleep: silent, suppressed breaths, unnatural stillness, closed mouth.

Whenever Captain Wern comes round to check on them, every single Trooper fakes sleep.

This is his earliest memory. Curled up in a ball. Skinny arms wrapped around knobby knees. The quiet. The half-dark, the odd greenish glow of the overheads. The thin, firm mattress. FN-2936, whose arm is dangling over the side of her bunk, fingertips brushing the floor. The fear in his stomach, because Captain Wern will come round soon, and his boots and cloak make awful dragging noises, like a monster scraping its belly across the floor.

FN-2187 thinks, I want to go home, even though he doesn’t really know what home means. He once heard an older Trooper mention a home planet, so all FN-2187 knows of home is: not here. 

I want to go home, he thinks, even though he knows, at four years old, that there’s no point wanting impossible things.
fic  slash  The_Force_Awakens  Finn/Poe  oh_my_heart  pining  angst  dense_boy(s)  [not-rated]  wc:35_000-40_000  a:thebrotherswinchester 
february 2016 by adelate
[untitled afaik - where Derek and Stiles eat at night]
"Nice pajamas," says someone drily just over Stiles' shoulder, and it's because he's suddenly, uncharacteristically been blessed by the gods of grace that he doesn't jump straight through the ceiling. It's not a jump. It's more of a jolt. He jolts a little. Then he just turns his head, looks balefully at Derek. Derek looks soft, rumpled at the edges. He's wearing sneakers. "What're you doing at the grocery store at one in the morning," he asks Stiles. Then he steps up to the self checkout station next to Stiles'. He's holding a shopping basket. It's probably the funniest thing Stiles has ever seen Derek do.
fic  slash  Teen_Wolf  Derek/Stiles  [not-rated]  wc:01_000-05_000  a:betp 
february 2016 by adelate
Like You Walked Through My Door
Ned doesn't like kids, really, he doesn't. (He might be changing his mind though.)

//

There’s a small person staring expectantly at Ned from across the counter and he can hear the thump-thump-thump of her swinging feet kicking the paneling underneath. He’s utterly nonplussed, mostly because she seems to be unattended and Ned’s no parent, but aren’t kids supposed to be supervised? Like, all the time?



“Hello,” she sing-songs at him and it takes him a good eight seconds to respond in kind.



“Um, so,” he nods at the menu she’s grasping between short little fingers. “Do you know what you want? Sorry, wait. Do you have money?” After all, he’s not running a charity here.



“I want peach pie. And no.”



They stare at each other for a long moment and Ned absently notes how vividly green her eyes are. He hates it, but he flinches first and turns to tell a passing Olive he needs a slice of peach.
fic  slash  Pushing_Daisies/Supernatural  AU  crossovers  Dean/Ned  kidfic  original_characters  Sam_Winchester  Bobby_Singer  Olive_Snook  Castiel  Charlie_Bradbury  Vivian_Charles  Lily_Charles  socute  Charlotte_Charles  wc:05_000-10_000  [G]  a:rippedoutgrace 
february 2016 by adelate
We've Written Volumes (in Blood and Scars and Ink)
Stiles is on his back on hard-packed dirt. He's cold and there are leaves stuck to his neck and there's a four inch gash in his side that he thinks he can feel his ribs through. There's so much blood around him he feels like he's floating on a pond and everything is so much dimmer above him than it was a minute ago, which is saying something because he's in the dark center of the forest in the middle of the night. And the worst of it is that he's alone, totally alone with the smell of his own blood drowning him and the soft side of him run through by a tree.

As his eyes slip shut, the last thing he thinks is, "This is going to kill my dad."
fic  slash  Teen_Wolf  Derek/Stiles  Allison/Scott  Sheriff_Stilinski  Isaac_Lahey  Erica_Reyes  Vernon_Boyd  Melissa_McCall  Lydia_Martin  Jackson_Whittemore  h/c  [NC-17]  wc:25_000-30_000  a:notthequiettype 
august 2015 by adelate
my wings a hurricane
Stiles had been like any other kid growing up in the era of dragons. He'd watched the cartoons, the news stories, had the lunch box. When his screening at Beacon Hills High had come up negative, he'd been disappointed but unsurprised. His positive results were returned three years too late for it to be in any way convenient or cool, but Stiles had still been hanging on to the hope that in some, still to be discovered way, he was special and for just a moment, it had seemed like that was true.

Except he'd attended three hatchings and hadn't sparked with a single dragon.
fic  slash  Teen_Wolf  Derek/Stiles  AU  dragons  Allison/Scott  Erica_Reyes  Isaac_Lahey  Vernon_Boyd  Lydia_Martin  Alan_Deaton  Kira_Yukimura  Chris_Argent  Sheriff_Stilinski  Melissa_McCall  dense_boy(s)  adorable  wc:20_000-25_000  [PG-13]  a:kellifer_fic 
january 2015 by adelate
its derek hale wtf
Stiles doesn’t buy the whole magical, transcendent soulmate reveal story, snickers at all those movies where the couple touches each others marks for the first time, eyes glimmering over in emotion when they feel the bond surge through their bodies (who comes up with this stuff?), shakes his head at all those dreamy-eyed people willing to shell out money to track down their other half.

It’s absolutely ridiculous; he knows plenty of people who fall in love with people with different marks from their own, and it’s not a perfect system--even if all the statistics show that bonded soulmates live longer and healthier lives, with practically no divorce rate to speak of, and generally just have incredibly fulfilling relationships, you never know if the person who shares the exact mirror of your own mark lives in your country or even is on the same side of the planet.

Stiles is just really ambivalent about the whole thing. He meets his other half in his lifetime? Cool. If not? It’s just fine; he’s happy where he is.

At least that’s what he keeps telling himself.
fic  slash  Teen_Wolf  AU  Derek/Stiles  actors  personal_assistant  pining  Allison/Scott  Isaac_Lahey  Kira_Yukimura  Erica_Reyes  Vernon_Boyd  Peter_Hale  Braeden  original_characters  soulmates  oh_my_heart  wc:35_000-40_000  [NC-17]  a:bleep0bleep 
january 2015 by adelate
Professional Werewolf Witch
The shop is sort of like an old picture, yellowing at the edges, homey and well worn. A wooden sign hangs above the door. Hale’s.

It’s tucked behind a few buildings, hidden in between alleyways. You wouldn’t find it unless you were really looking for it, and even if you did find it, you wouldn’t be able to see it if you were human. Which Stiles is, but he’s a special case.

There are runes carved into the alleyway and in the ground that cloak the shop with a barrier and, god. Stiles has only been studying magic for a little over half a year but he knows enough to appreciate how fucking beautiful these runes are. They’re skillfully made. Stiles recognizes the basic design but there are some simple yet pragmatic modifications here and there.

Stiles is fangirling over a bunch of runes in the ground. This is his life now.

He flips the business card Deaton gave him. It’s one of those fancy nice looking ones, ridged and scented and stuff. Derek Hale. Professional Werewolf Witch. it says. The address and contact details on the back.
fic  slash  Teen_Wolf  Derek/Stiles  AU  magic  Kira/Scott  Laura_Hale  Alan_Deaton  wc:05_000-10_000  [G]  a:reptilianraven 
january 2015 by adelate
Long Trip Home
Eliza's bag--" weekender"-- is too shiny--" metallic leather with gold plated studs"-- to be born.

Henry stashed it behind the driver's seat so that he couldn't see it, but against all probability, sunlight manages to reflect onto the roof of the scar, creating a shifting, shimmery golden aura above their heads. And also on their heads. It makes Eliza looks like some angelic, fey creature with a golden aura.

"It's distracting."

"Is it, though?" Eliza says without looking up from her phone.

"It is."

"Is it?”

“It is. Listen, I’ll pull over, and—”

“Fine, I’ll drive.”

“No, we’re going to put your bag in the trunk.”

“It wouldn’t fit in the trunk, remember? Our suitcases are back there.”

“Well, then, we’ll put the bag in the back and one of the suitcases in the backseat.”

Eliza rolls her eyes at this and complains a lot when Henry stops the car to do just that, but he does it. He heaves a sigh of relief when he falls back into the front seat. And then he looks over at Eliza.

She raises her eyebrows at him with a theatrical smirk. “Better now?”

No. Without the gold reflections, Eliza looks less angelic and more like a pale, Grecian nymph. It’s not better at all.

“Yes,” Henry says, and turns back to driving. Everything will be fine. Eliza may be a nymph, but Henry is Odysseus, and he will struggle onward, despite temptation.
fic  het  Selfie  Eliza/Henry  unrequited  pining  road_trip  sharing_a_room  [G]  wc:01_000-05_000  a:fleete 
january 2015 by adelate
cracker snap(chat)s
On January 2nd, 2015, Eliza Dooley comes to work an hour late, with no Starbucks and no mascara on.

In fact, she steps out of the elevator completely make-up free, minus the residual track marks of whatever blush she'd had on at the New Years' Eve Party. Charmonique can tell all the way from the circulation desk, if only because of how prominent Eliza's eye bags are.

And it isn't just the lack of make-up that throws the entire picture out of whack. The top Eliza's wearing has red and green stripes and a blooming poinsettia at the left shoulder. Something between ugly holiday sweater contest and dug out of Mom's attic because laundry hasn't been done in two months in terms of clothing tiers. Under normal circumstances, Eliza would never even admit to owning it, let alone wear it out of the house.
fic  het  Selfie  Eliza/Henry  Charmonique_Whitaker  [PG]  wc:01_000-05_000  a:gdgdbaby 
january 2015 by adelate
Seven For A Secret That'll Probably Go Viral
"It'll be my KinderKare Karaoke comeback," Eliza said, "like how Christina used The Voice to make herself relevant again? Only I'll be making a comeback from Freddy dumping me at the company softball game and not from oversinging and making tragic bleach decisions. Charmonique and I will be totes retro, 'Like a Virgin' circa Britney and Madonna at the VMAs. I've already got the hot-pants, Charmonique's got the elbow gloves, maybe the giant cake would be a little hard to source at short notice but if I bet if we twerk instead no one will notice?"

"All of this is both confusing and horrifying," Henry said, trying his best to repress all the mental images that had conjured up for him, "and so not the kind of thing you should be broadcasting at full volume when standing in line in Starbucks at eight in the morning."
fic  het  Selfie  Eliza/Henry  karaoke  future_fic  adorable  [G]  wc:00001-01_000  a:Siria 
january 2015 by adelate
Come with Me and Walk the Longest Mile
Derek finds the kid behind a convenience store in Nebraska, cornered between the building and the dumpster. He's pale and skinny, hair cropped short in a ragged buzzcut that's starting to grow out, and gripping a baseball bat studded with nails. There are three prowlers pacing back and forth in front of him, another one beaten into a mushy pile on the ground at his feet. When one of the prowlers darts in, the kid lifts the bat and waits, steely-eyed and calm, so patient that for a moment Derek thinks he waited too long, he fucked up, he's a goner.

Finally the kid swings, connects, tears most of the prowler's face off with one vicious thwack! It staggers back and falls, thrashing on the ground as the last two prowlers come at him at the same time, one from each side.

Derek knows better than to risk his own neck to help someone else, but it's one kid against all those prowlers, and he's already taken down two. It looks like he'd have a fighting chance if he had a little help.

Derek shifts as he grabs his crowbar out of the truck, joins the fray, and it's all over in seconds.
fic  slash  Teen_Wolf  AU  Derek/Stiles  zombie!AU  heat  omegas  road_trip  wc:35_000-40_000  [NC-17]  a:DevilDoll 
january 2015 by adelate
untitled coffee shop meet-cute ficlet
jfcbrolin asked: COFFEEEEE will u write me some kind of happy sterek fic or not!fic when inspiration strikes u because im sad and i need happy pls coffee ilu

(I hope this coffee shop meet-cute will make you feel better <3)

***

"Hey, is this seat taken?" a voice says, and Derek has already shaken his head and sent the standard-issue polite, fleeting smile in the direction of the source of the voice when he does a double take. He doesn't mean to, but the source of the voice has unexpectedly beautiful eyes and beautiful hands and beautiful everything, and Derek can't not look at him again.
fic  slash  Teen_Wolf  Derek/Stiles  AU  professor  college!fic  coffee  coffee_shop  adorable  werewolves  [not-rated]  wc:00001-01_000  a:coffeeinallcaps 
january 2015 by adelate
Darling It Is No Joke
The first thing Stiles thinks when he opens the door is that it's not his birthday, but someone has sent him some kind of cop stripper. The guy is — god, he's breathtakingly hot, and Stiles is just not this lucky in life. When he moved back to Beacon Hills after college, he had resigned himself to basically not getting laid for the two years he planned to stay.

Fortunately, Stiles just stares with his mouth open like a complete goober instead of voicing any of this.

Then Mr. Cop Stripper actually tips his hat at Stiles and says politely, "Is the Sheriff at home?"

Oh god oh god real cop, of course he's here to see Stiles' dad. "Oh, yeah, just — would you like to come in? He'll be right down."

The guy looks at the door frame and then frowns at him. "You really shouldn't invite strangers into your home, you know."

Stiles bristles at that. "Oh my god, seriously? I'm not a kid, I promise you, but if you'd like to condescend to me some more, feel free to stay on the porch."

Of course Stiles' dad chooses that moment to come clattering down the stairs. "Derek! You're a little early. Stiles, why did you leave him on the porch?"

Stiles makes a face at him that he hopes appropriately conveys that Derek is on the porch because he's a jerk. A really, really hot jerk. "Well, dad, you always told me not to open the door for people I don't know," Stiles says sweetly.

His dad gives him a look. "Derek, come on in. This is my son, Stiles. Stiles, this is Derek Hale, my new deputy."

"Pleased to meet you," Derek says, flashing Stiles a smile with too many teeth, and then takes one deliberate step inside.
fic  slash  Teen_Wolf  Derek/Stiles  AU  cops  deputy  scenting_kink  hot_like_burning  Sheriff_Stilinski  Scott_McCall  h/c  wc:10_000-15_000  [NC-17]  a:thehoyden 
january 2015 by adelate
has time re-written every line
"Stiles?"

About ten seconds ago Derek was in the loft's kitchen preparing a stir fry and listening to Isaac griping about how much he hated baby corn. Now, he was standing in a clearing in the middle of the forest he didn't recognize, facing a guy that could have been Stiles... in about five or six years.

The guy does this full body eye roll that wipes out any doubt from Derek's mind to just who it is and adds for good measure, "No duh. Who do you think it is?"

"Something's happened," Derek says. Stiles' scent is the same but his body's different. Derek's having trouble cataloging all the ways how because his mind's trying to shy away from it.

"You think?" Stiles says, dry as always. "I was just in bed and now..." He flails his arms around, indicating their surroundings and then turns back to Derek, the gesture morphing into a shrug. "Any ideas? Did you do this?"

"No I didn't do this," Derek snaps, immediately irked. Stiles gives him the chill out, don't bite my head off wave of his hands that Derek knows he uses a lot on the wolves, sometimes on Lydia and Allison too. It's all very surreal to see those familiar gestures in such a changed body.
fic  slash  Teen_Wolf  Derek/Stiles  amnesia  future_fic  established_relationship  Allison/Scott  Sheriff_Stilinski  Isaac_Lahey  Lydia_Martin  Chris_Argent  [PG-13]  wc:10_000-15_000  a:kellifer_fic 
january 2015 by adelate
My World Is Filled With Cheer And You
Derek takes one last look at the large manor he and his family have called home for generations and generations. He can't believe it's come to this, right before Christmas, that they're all going to be separated like this.

"You'll be alive," Agent Markowski says, adjusting his earpiece. "Come on, you still will have the opportunity to communicate with each other. Technology is amazing, you know. We'll have a secure line where you guys can all video chat with each other."

"You could have relocated us to the same town, at least," Derek scowls.

The FBI agent shakes his head. "We're taking this threat very seriously. Everyone knows werewolves in the same pack all like to live together or close together, extended family and everything, and if anyone recognizes any of you--"
fic  slash  Teen_Wolf  Derek/Stiles  original_characters  Scott_McCall  Talia_Hale  Laura_Hale  kidfic  pretend_marriage/relationship  Christmas  adorable  The_Sterek_Haven_Secret_Santa  [PG-13]  wc:10_000-15_000  a:bleep0bleep 
december 2014 by adelate
Heatwave
The drug is called heatwave.

It supposedly emulates werewolf heats on humans.

And yes, Stiles is stupid enough to take it on a dare.

-

In his defense, he is very, very drunk at the time, and friends really shouldn't let friends drink and take weird designer heat drugs.

Stiles' friends all suck.

Except for Danny, apparently, because there's a hot, sturdy-looking werewolf at his door courtesy of Danny right now, and oh my god, Stiles' knees are buckling at the sight of him.

"I got you, I got you," the werewolf says, pulling Stiles up and taking most of his weight as they make their stumbling way to the bedroom.
fic  slash  Teen_Wolf  Derek/Stiles  PWP  hot_like_burning  Danny_Mahealani  heat  drugged  drugs_made_them_do_it  wc:01_000-05_000  [NC-17]  a:jerakeen 
july 2014 by adelate
The Measure of a Gentleman
It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a partner.

Less universally acknowledged is that a single man in possession of very little in the way of fortune may be in want of a partner as well, but John Watson had little time or energy to devote to his own wants or needs. While his widowed mother and unwed sisters ranged round him in the sitting room, he turned back to the notices on his desk and sighed.
fic  slash  BBC_Sherlock  fusion:Pride_and_Prejudice  John/Sherlock  AU  regency  Greg/Molly  Harry_Watson/Jim_Moriarty  Irene_Adler  Mycroft_Holmes  Anderson/Sally  [NC-17]  wc:65_000-70_000  a:i_ship_an_armada 
january 2014 by adelate
And Stand There at the Edge of My Affection
"John."

"Mmm?" John paused in his shaving ritual. It never did to have sharp objects close to his own throat when Sherlock was hovering in the doorway to the bath like that. "What?"

"You've written love letters," Sherlock asserted.
fic  slash  BBC_Sherlock  John/Sherlock  love_letters  adorable  wc:01_000-05_000  [G]  a:coloredink 
december 2013 by adelate
The Well of Living Waters
[King Derek takes a consort.]

//

"I propose a formal marriage alliance to bond our two kingdoms together in kinship," King Stilinski said, well-rehearsed. He indicated Stiles, standing next to him. "I offer to you the hand of my son, crown prince of my kingdom, heir to all my land and holdings. Any child of his body shall stand to inherit your kingdom and mine, and join them in personal union."

Stiles tried to look regal, yet fertile.
fic  slash  Teen_Wolf  AU  Derek/Stiles  mpreg  royalty  arranged_marriage  dense_boy(s)  Peter_Hale  Scott_McCall  Allison_Argent  Lydia_Martin  Kate_Argent  Chris_Argent  Sheriff_Stilinski  Vernon_Boyd  Erica_Reyes  Isaac_Lahey  Alan_Deaton  Gerard_Argent  wc:30_000-35_000  [NC-17]  a:kalpurna 
december 2013 by adelate
Show Me The Way Back Home Baby
[In which Lydia and Jackson produce the world's cutest baby, and the pack goes crazy-- the good kind of crazy. Except for Derek, who is afraid of tiny cute babies and Stiles who plans to be the best Uncle ever. Even if Danny called dibs on Godfather.]

//

"So, what do they say?"

Stiles swallows, double checks the packaging and then shoots what he hopes is a comforting smile at his friend. "Uh, pregnant."

"All of them?"

"Yup, even the one you uh, kind of missed the target on?"

"Well," Lydia says sitting back, leaning her head against the tiles of the bathroom, "there you go." She nods to herself for a second before sticking out her hand in a silent demand for Stiles to help her up. "Pregnant. I'm pregnant."
fic  slash  het  Teen_Wolf  Derek/Stiles  Jackson/Lydia  Danny/Isaac  Allison/Scott  Erica_Reyes  Vernon_Boyd  Sheriff_Stilinski  adorable  pack  dense_boy(s)  wc:10_000-15_000  [not-rated]  a:stilinskisparkles 
november 2013 by adelate
He Blinded Me With Library Science
When Stiles' very own letter had arrived, he felt elated and guilty at the same time. His father had rubbed his hand against Stiles' buzzed hair and said, "She'd be proud, you know. Your mother loved magic."

Stiles remembered that, of course, but it eased the ache in his heart a little and he grinned up at his father. "Does this mean I can have my own broomstick finally?"

"We'll see," his father sighed.
fic  slash  AU  Teen_Wolf  Harry_Potter  Derek/Stiles  library  librarian  Lydia_Martin  Danny_Mahealani  Scott_McCall  Sheriff_Stilinski  Veela  wc:05_000-10_000  [NC-17]  a:mklutz 
september 2013 by adelate
Aversion Therapy
It had seemed like a good idea at the time. Though if Stiles had had more than a second to think about it, he probably would have remembered that his spur of the moment ideas weren't always his best ones. That sometimes, in fact, they went spectacularly wrong.

But he doesn't have a lot of choice right now, the rest of the pack is a mess. Isaac's slumped against the side of the trashed movie theater, still trying to heal whatever getting smashed into the wall had done to him. Erica's not moving, Boyd looks dead on his feet, and Derek is about to get gutted by something that looks like a giant gorilla which had stolen the claws and teeth from the entire rest of the animal kingdom.

The only weapon Stiles has is roughly two tons of steel, which he's currently in control of. So he makes a judgment call, and hits the gas.

"Stiles, what are you doing?" Scott's voice is high, and scrambling closer, as if he can't believe even Stiles would be this crazy. There's a 'what the hell,' and more than a little 'are you insane,' crammed in there somewhere too. But Stiles is pretty much committed at this point. Scott grabs, hastily and blindly, for something to hold on to, and then swears. Which is how Stiles knows that this is bad, because Scott never swears. Stiles doesn't really blame him though, because he knows a thing or two about physics and the relative mass and speed of objects colliding.

He thinks this is probably going to hurt.
fic  slash  Teen_Wolf  Derek/Stiles  Scott_McCall  Erica_Reyes  Vernon_Boyd  Isaac_Lahey  dense_boy(s)  h/c  hot_like_burning  wc:10_000-15_000  [NC-17]  a:entanglednow  a:entangled_now 
september 2013 by adelate
Touchpaper
Stiles is no stranger to coming back at one in the morning covered in bruises and dubious substances, trailing the smell of dead bodies and bad decisions. He accepted all of that once Scott turned into a werewolf. Scott, being a werewolf, doesn't have to worry about bruises, though there is the occasional surprise evisceration that can still put a crimp in his day. Allison comes from a family of hunters. Jackson's recent history is a whole mess of mental trauma and horrible injuries (a few of which they'd given to him.) Even Lydia has had her fair share of last-minute escapes from open graves and angry werewolves. She'd yelled at Scott for twenty minutes just last week when the strap had broken on one of her favourite shoes. The sprained wrist she hadn't care about. The shoes, she had protested, couldn't be bandaged.

But this is just wrong. This is wrong in some sort of important way.

Danny's sitting at Stiles's desk, one hand still balanced on his laptop (which had miraculously survived intact after having been used as an impromptu werewolf-battering device.) He looks tired and muddy, and every so often he'll touch his fingers carefully to the edge of his eye socket, which is already colouring. Danny is bruised. Their werewolf drama has officially bruised Danny. This is the worst day ever.
fic  slash  Teen_Wolf  Derek/Stiles  Danny_Mahealani  hot_like_burning  voyeurism  dense_boy(s)  wc:05_000-10_000  [NC-17]  a:entanglednow  a:entangled_now 
september 2013 by adelate
Lock All The Doors Behind You
[He has no idea what you're supposed to say when you find one of your...werewolf acquaintances, completely out of their mind, growling like they're about to see what your insides taste like. There's no handbook for this. Stiles is thinking that if he survives he might write one.]

//

Stiles accepts the fact that Scott said he'd only be five minutes. But lunch waits for no man. So Stiles has already made a significant dent in his own, by the time Scott fills the seat in front of him. He looks like he ran the whole way, practically vibrating with thoughts he has to share. Stiles doesn't think it's important enough to stop eating. There's a very short list of things which rank above delicious foodstuffs, and Lydia is quite clearly fine. She's three tables over, oozing superiority and perfection.

"Derek's missing," Scott opens with. Which isn't quite important enough to stop eating. Though Stiles is surprised enough to stop chewing for a second, that's the best the grumpy werewolf is going to get.

"What do you mean missing? Is that actually missing, or just more subtle in his lurking than usual?" Because if Derek just decided to stop jumping out at people, or hovering ominously at the nearest tree line, Stiles is pretty sure no one would ever see him. It's possible he does that on purpose, since Stiles figures he's perfectly capable of stalking people without their knowledge.
fic  slash  Teen_Wolf  Derek/Stiles  Scott_McCall  Erica_Reyes  Isaac_Lahey  Jackson_Whittemore  feral  h/c  adorable  wc:25_000-30_000  [not-rated]  a:entanglednow  a:entangled_now 
september 2013 by adelate
Possibly I Like The Thrill Of Under Me You
"What are you reading?"

The teenager at the end of the aisle starts and snaps his book shut. "Nothing! Uh, ah, a book about goldfish."

Derek narrows his eyes suspiciously. "Goldfish?"

"Yeah, I was thinking of uh," the boy backs into the wall as Derek advances upon him. "Getting one for my girlfriend?" he finishes weakly.

Derek removes the book from his limp hand. "History of Sex? Huh," he peers at the kid over his glasses. "I don't know whether to be concerned about the fact goldfish sprang to mind when you were reading this or make you check out the book in front of your girlfriend."

"Dude—"

"Get out of here," Derek snaps. "Go and read a book suitable for your age."

"I'm sixt—"

"I don't care." He bares his teeth at the kid and he scuttles off to where his girlfriend's snapping her gum and pretending to be reading a Biology textbook. She's surrounded by girls who look almost exactly like her— different variations of hairstyle aside— and are all texting. Don't they have time in school to talk? What do they even need to say to each other once they're finished for the day? He highly doubts they're swapping theories on Shakespeare's comic timing.

They're the bane of Derek's life. The library is not for socializing; it is for reading, for learning, for losing yourself in the pages of a book so powerful you feel disappointed when you close it.

He glowers at the group until they guiltily put away their phones. Several of the girls present try to smile at him, batting their eyelashes—it sort of looks like they've accidentally poked themselves in the eye—Derek frowns back and they all duck their heads, whispering at each other.

When he walks back to the front desk Erica gives him a round of applause. He feels his face heat up. "Shush," he mumbles.

"Oh honey, that was impressive."

"I was just doing my job."

"Thoroughly terrorizing innocent teenagers?"

"They're noisy and disrespectful," he grumbles, settling back down at his desk and pushing his glasses back up his nose. "This is a library, not a common room."
fic  slash  Teen_Wolf  AU  librarian  library  Derek/Stiles  artist  Erica_Reyes  Allison/Scott  Isaac_Lahey  Lydia_Martin  Laura_Hale  adorable  funny  firsts  wc:10_000-15_000  [NC-17]  a:stilinskisparkles 
september 2013 by adelate
(Once in a) Blue Moon
[Stiles and Derek are getting along, but they're not a family, and they're sure as hell not mates. Christ, they're basically just two stupid guys who happened to get pregnant because of a full moon and sheer dumb luck.]

//

They're just fucking around. Derek let his eyes linger a little too long that one time Stiles was stripping out of his sweaty shirt after a training session and Stiles caught him. He grinned wickedly at Derek and showed up at the loft the next night smelling of desire and determination.

Derek tried to resist. Kind of. Okay, he didn't so much try as take one step back when Stiles walked right up to him, grinning and saying something along the lines of, "I know you want me." Derek's still not sure what exactly he said. He was distracted. Stiles was up in his business, quite literally backing him into a wall, and saying things and touching Derek's arm and it was... distracting.
fic  slash  Teen_Wolf  Derek/Stiles  mpreg  h/c  angst  original_characters  Sheriff_Stilinski  Scott_McCall  Isaac_Lahey  Vernon_Boyd  Allison_Argent  wc:60_000-65_000  [NC-17]  a:clarkoholic  a:skywardsmiles 
september 2013 by adelate
Bang Marry Kill
"I really do hate this game," Lance said with a laugh. "But anyway... next caller. Gimme your Bang Marry Kill list."

"Love your show, Lance," a girl said. "I gotta ask... Justin Timberlake, Joey Fatone, JC Chasez."
fic  slash  popslash  *NSYNC  JC/Lance  Joey_Fatone  Chris_Kirkpatrick  Justin_Timberlake  adorable  [PG]  wc:01_000-05_000  a:zebraljb 
august 2013 by adelate
Don't Worry Baby
The weirdest thing is when Stiles figures out that Derek isn't even getting what he wants, not completely. Who the fuck pays for a hooker and doesn't ask for what they really, truly want? What would be the point? It's the one thing that none of Stiles's clients have ever hidden from him, not the way boyfriends might. He expects lies on every subject except this one.

Stiles doesn’t accept every call he gets, but he specializes in werewolves, so he gets more than his fair share of weird requests. His clients have given him fake names and asked him to degrade them, to piss on them, to do things that Stiles won't do even for his dad's bills, and all of them, even the ones who were ashamed about it afterwards, have known they could be honest with a hooker about what they want in bed. They've gotten their money's worth.

And it's not like what Derek seems to want is unusual, especially for a werewolf. They have rough sex up against walls, biting sex, sex that leaves Stiles with rug burns on his knees and elbows and one cheekbone. Derek seems to like it, always comes. Stiles likes it too and is shameless about showing it, because why not?

So it comes as something of a shock to catch Derek's reaction the night that Stiles is too exhausted and bruised to kiss any way but sweetly, to ride him any way but gently. Derek is strangely malleable, stays where Stiles puts him, touches Stiles's hips when he climbs on top of him. He sets a slow pace and Derek doesn't try to speed him up. It's just — easy.

At some point Stiles closed his eyes, and he's gone from just bracing both hands on Derek's chest to something that verges on petting. He's touching Derek so lightly, and Derek is being so weirdly quiet, that he suddenly wonders if he's annoying him. Maybe he's ticklish. Stiles forces his eyes open to check.

Derek doesn't look impatient. He looks lost. His face is so open and young that Stiles has to reach out and cup it in his hands, the way you'd hold something breakable, something valuable. He leans down to rub his mouth soothingly against Derek's sweaty hairline, mindlessly murmuring about how good he feels, how much he likes this. When Derek comes he kisses him through it.

"You know you're allowed to ask for vanilla sex, right?" he says, afterwards. "We can do whatever you want. That's kind of the point."

Derek doesn't respond.
fic  slash  AU  Teen_Wolf  Derek/Stiles  prostitution  pretend_marriage/relationship  knotting  pining  hot_like_burning  Erica_Reyes  Vernon_Boyd  Isaac_Lahey  Scott_McCall  Allison_Argent  wc:20_000-25_000  [NC-17]  a:kalpurna 
august 2013 by adelate
Can't Be Hateful, Gotta Be Grateful
"But Dad, I can't go this year. You know I can't!" Stiles is sitting on the top bunk against the wall, digging through his hamper in a vain attempt to find just one pair of matching socks. "I'm driving home tomorrow. That was always the plan."

"I know it was, kiddo, but I told you. Grandma tore me a new one when I told her we'd be skipping it. I heard curse words I didn't even know existed."

"So, what, you're afraid of Grandma?"

"Hell yes I am, and so are you."

This is completely true, unfortunately, but Stiles has been counting on his dad to be a little more gutsy and face her down for the both of them. "I haven't seen most of the pack since August," he whines, feeling something in his chest sink as he says it. "I didn't come home for fall break because I had all that catching up to do for Bio, and you said we'd do our own Thanksgiving. You promised, in fact, and don't think I'm not aware of how juvenile I sound right now, but—"

"I get it, Stiles, I do." His dad sighs wearily into the phone. "She pulled the ‘this could be my last Thanksgiving' card. What was I supposed to tell her?"

"The truth!" Stiles tugs on the newly-grown tufts of his hair in agitation. "What's so complicated about that?"

"Aha. The truth. Which is that you've spent the past three years of your life insinuating yourself into a ragtag pack of werewolves, and now you feel anxious whenever you're away from them for too long—which sounds completely healthy, let me tell you."
fic  slash  Teen_Wolf  Derek/Stiles  Sheriff_Stilinski  original_characters  Thanksgiving  pretend_marriage/relationship  oh_my_heart  [PG-13]  wc:05_000-10_000  a:HalfFizzbin 
august 2013 by adelate
Will to Follow Through
Watching Lydia sink to the filthy concrete floor, cradling Jackson like the dirt and the blood and the slick sweat don't mean anything, like there's nothing that can stop her from sharing those last few breaths with him – it does something to Stiles. Does something to his ribs, maybe, makes them brittle and sharp, curling in a little tighter and pinching his lungs, his heart.

Later he'll feel a little selfish about it; Lydia and Jackson are playing out their Satine and Christian horror story and Gerard's mostly-dead, completely-disgusting body is gone, Peter's apparently risen from the dead and Derek's got this look on his face like he's finally realizing he lost whatever tentative control he had. All Stiles cares about is that whatever fleeting chance he might have thought he had with Lydia has quite literally been given the kiss of death. The stubborn streak that dominates the majority of his personality wants to refuse, but Jackson's not so dead after all, and he's looking at Lydia like she hung the moon and personally arranged the stars around it, and Stiles thinks this might be what the captain of the Titanic felt like when his unsinkable ship was well and truly sunk.
fic  slash  Derek/Stiles  Lydia_Martin  pining  slow_buildup  Danny_Mahealani  Scott_McCall  Isaac_Lahey  Peter_Hale  Sheriff_Stilinski  [not-rated]  wc:40_000-45_000  a:owlpostagain 
august 2013 by adelate
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