Established Relationship

fabqueenultimate  asked:

It's finally December! Can you rec some good holiday fics (mistletoe, snowball fights, decorating, secret santa, Christmas hogsmead type of stuff)

Aside from our Christmas tag, check out these Christmas/Winter favorites:

Title: oh, crumbs
Author: elvendorc
Rating: T
Genre(s): Romance, Friendship
Chapters: 1
Word Count: 2,000
Summary: Bakery AU. “So, this is going to sound really weird and you’re going to think I’m slightly mad, but I need sixty Ferrero Roche cupcakes –”

Title: Just Like Jimmy Stewart
Author: ladyknightley
Rating: T
Genre(s): Romance, Friendship
Chapters: 1
Word Count: 1,983
Summary: James and Lily discuss Christmas films. And wossles.

Title: Hogsmeade
Author: yourbcky
Rating: T
Genre(s): Romance, Friendship
Chapters: 1
Word Count: 3,184
Summary: December brings the first Hogsmeade visit since James and Lily got together.

Title: Nice Day for a White Wedding
Author: peverell
Rating: T
Genre(s): Romance, Friendship
Chapters: 1
Word Count: ~4,400
Summary: Lily Evans decided that she must have gone quietly insane, and no one had bothered to tell her. If it had been anyone other than Alice Hathaway asking it of her, she’d have told them to ‘get stuffed’.

Title: Staying Behind
Author: LiesMiranda 
Rating: T
Genre(s): Romance, Friendship
Chapters: 1
Word Count: 1,601
Summary: James finds Lily - unexpectedly - reading a Christmas notice in the common room.

Title: Changing Times
Author: SpaghettiSticks
Rating: T
Genre(s): Romance, Friendship
Chapters: 39
Word Count: 51,190
Summary: Collection of Marauder Era drabbles. All the prompts are from my tumblr, padfootdidit. (Rating may change).

Title: Good Tidings 
Author: ScarlettSunshine
Rating: T
Genre(s): Romance, Friendship
Chapters: 15
Word Count: 58.992
Summary: It’s Christmas Eve and the holiday spirit seems to be lacking for one miserable Lily Evans. Being home for the holidays isn’t all she thought it would be with a sister like Petunia. So when she finds herself unwillingly in the company of James Potter, at first she’s furious. “Lily!” James exclaimed. “Happy Christmas!” “It isn’t Christmas yet,” she muttered. “And I’m hardly happy.”

Title: Posterity
Author: gryffindormischief
Rating: K+
Genre(s): Romance, Friendship
Chapters: 1
Word Count: 1,297
Summary: A quiet night with the Potters.

Title: On The Ice  
Author: greenconverses
Rating: T
Genre(s): Romance
Chapters: 1
Word Count: 4,607
Summary: Lily gets a little more than what she was looking for when she agrees to teach James how to ice skate. A fluffy look at the way Lily and James finally got together in seventh year. Oneshot.

Title: An Olympic Idiot
Author: padfootandprongs42
Rating: T
Genre(s): Romance, Humour
Chapters: 1
Word Count: 1,575
Summary: Jily Winter Olympic AU in which James is a competing snowboarder who has an injury. (inspired by Mark McMorris). “That’s Doctor Evans to you.”

Title: Winter Hair
Author: theghostofjamespotter
Rating: T
Genre(s): Romance
Chapters: 1
Word Count: 2,320
Summary: tipsy!jily talking about Quidditch and some kiss stuff in their seventh year, written for Jily Secret Santa 2013.

Send me a symbol for an established relationship

🌟 old high school friends who lost touch for a while

(distant) family members who meet each other at the funeral of one of their grandparents / parents

known each other since kindergarten but didn’t start getting along until recently

🌙 good friends who sometimes don’t talk for months, but suddenly show up on each other’s doorsteps and have a laugh like they talked just yesterday

muse A is the new doctor / nurse / caretaker of muse B

💫 arch-enemies since the day they could talk

muse A works in muse B’s favourite restaurant

love / hate relationship in which they totally need each other’s constant reassurance, but hate each other’s every move

 they tried a relationship once, but it didn’t work out and now they’re the best and closest friends who tell each other everything

they live in the same apartment building and greet each other in the hallways, not yet aware of how alike they are and how much they could mean to one another

💙 muse A is muse B’s biggest fan and they finally get to meet them backstage

used to be co-workers a few summer jobs ago

💰 business partners who always agree on the work related topics, but never on anything else

Don't Tell Phil!

Summary: Dan comes home drunk and Phil is less than thrilled. 

Genre: Pure fluff

Warnings: Swearing

Word Count: 1552

A/N: This is just a short fic I wrote based very loosely on something that happened with my sister and her boyfriend and I thought it was v cute so I wrote a fic about it. Enjoy! xx

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“Why won’t you just—”

“Because I said so, Dean! Not everything is about what you want!”

Castiel feels tears spring to his eyes, shoulders heaving as he sucks in deep, angry breaths. He hurts, of course he hurts, but he’ll be fine; his wings are safe in the aether. They’ll heal.


And Castiel can’t take it. Not Dean’s hurt, furrowed brow. Not his low, earnest voice. He turns away. “I’m fine.”

“You’re hurt.”

“I’ve been hurt before and I will be again. I’m fine.”

“Yeah well, fine ain’t good enough for me.” Dean’s voice is hard, now. “’Cause the way you’re standing right now, all tensed up and bent over? That’s not fine, or good, or any other type of placating bullshit you’re gonna try and feed me. I need to fix your wing, Cas.”


“Why?” Dean demands. “You give me one good fuckin’ reason and I’ll leave you alone but until then—”

“Because they’re me!”

Castiel clenches his jaw so hard his teeth ache in the wake of his own words, eyes squeezed shut and fingernails pressing into his own palms. Dean is silent.

“Because my wings are me,” Cas spits. “And they’re vile and broken just like the rest of me. They’re not Jimmy’s body, they’re not your clothes, they’re me. A-And if you see them… you’ll know that.”

Castiel can hear Dean step towards him, can feel the air displace when he moves his hand and can feel his callouses drag against the stubble on his jaw. Dean tilts Cas’s face up, thumbing the skin until the angel finds the courage to open his eyes. “You’re gorgeous,” the hunter says. “The packaging doesn’t matter. This right here?” A finger taps the area over Castiel’s heart. “That’s what I… I fell in love with. Well, that and this.” Lips press to the angel’s forehead. “You ain’t broken, Cas. A little scarred, maybe, but nothin’ to write home about. I mean, we’re all scarred. ‘Specially me.” Castiel sniffles. “Hey, look at me?”

Slowly, blue drags up to meet green. 

“Let me help you,” Dean breathes. “Please.”

Swallowing thickly, Cas pulls his wings onto humanity’s plane of reality.

“I love you”

Dean stiffens at the gravely voice of the half asleep angel in his arms. They’d been watching Harry Potter in the bunker since Sam had told them their Christmas present was surviving it for once without a hunt. So there they were, the two of them, watching movies in prep for a Winchester Christmas when Castiel spoke.

“You’re half asleep, Cas. You don’t mean it,” Dean absentmindedly stroked the angel’s head as it rested on his stomach. Dean himself was slightly tired and tipsy from his eighth beer of the night, therefore he felt a little confused at such a declaration in the middle of the night.

“But I do.”

“Oh? Then prove it,” Dean challenged, tilting his head so as to look at Castiel’s half closed eyes. “Scream it out to the world!”

Instantly blue eyes snapped open and found Dean’s green. A smile soon stretched onto Castiel’s entire face as he seemed to think something through. Dean blushed under his gaze, wondering about just what went on in the other’s head.

A few seconds passed before Cas shifted so that his mouth was close to Dean’s ear. Dean leaned in to hear what Castiel was about to whisper.

“I love you, Dean Winchester.”

Dean felt his face grow warmer at the intimate gesture, though he was still slightly confused. He pulled back to look at Castiel fully.

“Why did you whisper it?”

Castiel looked at Dean, his face morphing into one that clearly was lovingly amused by the green eyed man next to him.

“Because, Dean. You are my world.”

“Dean, we shouldn’t –”

“We’ve got five more minutes, Cas.”

“But –”

Dean silences him with a kiss, soft and unhurried, feeling utterly pleased with himself when  Castiel melts almost instantly into the touch and presses their bodies closer together.

“It’s actually rather two minutes,” Castiel eventually objects, pulling back a little and looking reluctant doing so at the same time.

Dean smiles. “Who cares?”

“We shouldn’t be late.”

“It’s not like they’ll start without us.”

Dean leans in again and though Castiel seems as if he’s about to protest, urging them once more to hurry up like he’s doing since Dean snuck into his room half an hour ago, he gives back eagerly. His lips are hot against Dean’s and he makes some very contented noises when Dean starts to card his fingers through his soft hair. He even begins to play with the button of Dean’s shirt, obviously already forgotten where they are at the moment.

But he’s reminded a second later when a very familiar voice presses, “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

Dean detaches himself from Castiel, pouting at Jo who is standing at the door, her hands on her hips, and glaring at them as if they just committed a serious and unforgivable crime.

“I’m spending some quality time with my fiancé,” Dean says. “Do you have a problem with that?”

“Yes!” Jo hisses. “Your wedding starts in one fucking minute!”

Dean just rolls his eyes, but Castiel can’t help lowering his gaze sheepishly and taking a step back.

“Look at you, you idiots!” Jo complains. “It took me ages to tame Cas’ hair and you made a mess out of it, Winchester.”

Indeed Castiel seems a bit rumpled now. His hair absolutely disheveled, his eyes gleaming dazedly, his clothes wrinkled.

He never looked more beautiful.

“And I think you fried his brain, Dean” Jo says, grinding her teeth.

Castiel shoots her a dark glance. “My brain is fine, thank you very much.”

Jo continues to grumble underneath her breath while Castiel turns toward the big mirror on the wall, eyeing his reflection uncertainly and obviously debating if Jo may have a point about his appearance.

And Dean can’t have him doubting himself, least on their wedding day. He drops a warm kiss on Castiel’s temple and whispers, “I think you look perfect. Don’t ever change.”

And when they meet in front of their families and friends a few minutes later and Castiel’s hair still looks like he just had a very hot make-out session in the closet Dean grins brightly at him and knows without a doubt that this is the start of something amazing.


just another sterek pic of them doing stuff before going to sleep that nobody asked for but that i still drew bc i need to relax or othervise school will drive me insane ;__; (drawing this and not doing stuff for school might be the biggest reason why i’m runing out of time and panic but THAT’S NOT THE POINT :’D!!)

anonymous asked:

but, like, stiles picking derek's halloween costume & derek's fully expecting some little red riding hood bullshit & so he's so confused when stiles just smirks & hands him this giant ball of white fluff but at least its not the wolf jumpsuit he saw stiles eyeballing so he goes to the bathroom & puts it on & comes out as the goddamn grumpiest sheep & stiles is just laughing his ass off.

*claps hands excitedly*

“I’m not wearing this out, Stiles,” Derek glares, but the effect is completely lost on Stiles who just clutches his side harder, not even trying to contain his laugher.

“But you look so adorable!” he coos, honest to god real tears streaming down his face. Derek glares harder. It doesn’t matter that Stiles’ heartbeat doesn’t stutter when he says it. It doesn’t. 

“No, look, it’s okay,” Stiles says, finally managing to get a hold of himself, pointing to an outfit on the bed. “I’m going as Little Bo Peep!” 

Derek raises an eyebrow. “This isn’t some weird sex fantasy is it?” He narrows his eyes, not entirely sure what answer he is hoping for. Derek was a pretty vanilla guy before Stiles. He’d never admit to it, but it kind of makes him feel special that Stiles…corrupted him (as Stiles likes to gleefully put it). “Is Lydia even having a party?”

“What? No! And yes,” Stiles says, but Derek detects the faint blush that rises on his cheeks, which, huh. Okay. Stiles isn’t usually shy about what he wants to try in bed, so Derek is definitely going to have fun teasing that out of him later. After all, he deserves it. He’s in a sheep costume. 

“Next year, I get to pick the costumes.”

Stiles stops laughing completely at that, eyes widening. “Y-you really think there’s going to be a next year? I mean-” he shakes his head, taking a step closer, suddenly hesitant. “You really want me?”

Derek rolls his eyes. “Of course I want you Stiles. That’s why we’re dating.”

“No, I mean…” Stiles ducks his head, scratches the back of his neck. “You really want me to…stay?” Hope and fear overpower his natural scent and Derek smiles, baffled, because oh. 

“You really didn’t know that?” he asks. Stiles shakes his head. “I love you. I- I want you around.” 

“You want me around?” Stiles repeats flatly, but his eyes are still wide. 

“Yes, Stiles. In my bed, in my life, in my kitchen. Around.”

There’s a long pause in which Stiles just stares. “But especially in the kitchen, right?” he waggles his eyebrows, breaking it, bringing the mood back to, well, semi-normal.  

Derek looks away, wishing he could pretend Stiles was referring to his cooking (which is amazing), but it’s not so easy to think about all the creative healthy recipes Stiles tries out on him before giving them to his dad makes him when he can’t stop picturing the first time Stiles fucked him, bent over the kitchen counter. He finds it difficult to eat even a bowl of cereal without getting a boner now. Stiles corrupted fruit loops for him.

“Move in with me,” Derek says, a little worried that Stiles’ ability to sexualise cereal is what makes him finally say it. 


“Move in with me,” Derek shrugs, like it’s no big deal, like this isn’t something he has been agonising over for months. 


“It’s okay if you don’t- wait. What?”

“I said okay?” Stiles’ heart speeds up and Derek just wants to kiss him, but he can’t, too busy being rooted to the spot because Stiles said yes. 


“Okay,” Derek whispers, looking down, grinning, unable to help it. “Great.”


Another long pause.

“…do I really have to go out in this?” Derek finally asks.

Stiles bites his lip. “No,” he laughs. “In fact…” he walks slowly towards him then, wearing a looking Derek knows means both good things and trouble. “I think we can skip the party. Watch movies instead.” 

“You want to watch movies?” Derek stares at him in disbelief, trying not to feel disappointed because good things and trouble

“I want to snuggle,” he says, and then, just to make sure Derek doesn’t hold back on that whimper, he goddamn winks. 

I’m choosing the movie,” he says weakly. 

“I’ll get the popcorn,” Stiles grins. 

chubbiestfox  asked:

Hey there! I love your work and was hoping to send a prompt your way. Derek and Stiles are in a relationship, and for whatever reason Stiles begins to neglect Derek and his needs, making him feel insecure and unwanted. Angst with a happy ending. If you can fill this, I will love you forever.

i tried to do the thing for you! established relationship+ angst + happy ending. i hope you enjoy it!  ❤ ❤ ❤

It’s late by the time Stiles gets home; the lights are all off, and he toes off his shoes and flops on the couch, discarding pieces of his uniform until he’s in his undershirt and boxers. His feet are aching. He lays there for a moment in the dark before his growling stomach directs him to the kitchen. The tiny apartment is silent. Derek is already in bed, probably. 

Stiles plugs his phone to charge and grimaces as it comes to life; two missed texts from Derek. 

From Love of Your Life, 7:49 pm: are you going to be home for dinner?

From Love of Your Life, 10:22 pm: in fridge

Stiles opens the fridge and finds an aluminum-foil-covered baking tray and unwraps it. Roasted chicken, some bacon-wrapped asparagus. Fancy. He feels guilty for missing dinner, but fucking car chases, man. He used to think getting to be a cop in a big city would be the best, you know? Nothing ever happened in Beacon Hills, and here Stiles could really make a difference. It took three hours to get that guy to pull over, and they did manage to recover all that money stolen from the bank and make an arrest, and luckily there were no car accidents, but still. Time. 

Stiles is exhausted. He sticks the whole tray in the toaster-oven and watches the little tube-y things turn bright red. Maybe he should have done the microwave instead, that would have been faster. But Derek took the time to cook and stuff, and he’ll probably be amused that Stiles toasted his dinner instead of just nuking it.

Stiles watches the food, leaning against the counter. He’ll be grateful when he gets that promotion to detective. No more car chases then. Promotion, get more money saved up for that house Derek was eyeing on the other side of the Bay, the quiet one, out of the city, away from the traffic and the noise. Close enough to the woods where they could just go up for a hike or camp for the weekend if they want, but still close enough to the city where Stiles can still work and Derek can still commute to the university.

Stiles thinks about that ring that’s still hidden in that box tucked away in three pairs of socks in the drawer underneath the bed, and thinks wistfully of the moment. The right moment would be a romantic one, one when they actually are having dinner at the same time… 

Stiles sees the dirty napkin on the counter, smudged with chocolate or something. Heh, Derek’s sweet tooth. He picks it up and steps on the trashcan lever, and is about to drop it in when he sees it: at the bottom of the trash bag is what looks like most of a full, round, homemade chocolate cake, iced and everything.

Happy Anniversary.

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A Shared Victory

Inspired by this sketch of Jack in the beanie and Bitty in his cap where Jack looks so in love oh my god you guys I can’t….

Bitty clears the plates from the dining room table, stacking them on top of each other so he can carry them in one hand and the empty wine glasses in the other.

It’s just the two of them. Two plates. Two sets of silverware. Two glasses. But that doesn’t stop Jack from being impressed by the ease of which Bitty carries them.

He can just add that to the list.

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Never Let Go (10/10), 84,803

Derek shot his hand out and grabbed Stiles’ wrist. “Stiles, stop,” he snapped. He could see someone that he recognized as one of Stiles’ neighbors curled up on the ground in front of the mailboxes. The neighbor’s heartbeat was rabbiting out of control and the smell of blood was coming from him.

“Derek, what -” Stiles turned to look into the lobby and froze. “Oh my god. Tyler!” Stiles darted off towards his neighbor. “What happened?! Fuck. Derek call an ambulance!” Stiles stood there staring, blood everywhere on the floor around his neighbor.

“Stiles, don’t touch him,” Derek barked. “He smells sick and you don’t know if it could be contagious.”


“Actually I was hoping for a kiss.”

Dorian needs time to get used to the all affection he gets from the Inquisitor. It’s all new to him. And of course Vax needs to grab a kiss every time he passes the librabry. Meaning a lot.

This photoset was very useful for a references btw ;)

A Kitten For Everything That You Are To Me

@okamiaki  This is for Jamie, because it’s their birthday, and I wanted to write something thought entirely thinking of them. It has angst and kittens. Probably one of the most angstiest and fluffy things I’ve ever written.

But let me be a sap, for a moment here.

Jamie, I love you. You’re such a great human being, I just- I don’t know what did I ever do to make you find your way into my life, but I’m so really grateful for it. You’re like the hugest dork I know, and I love it cuz it complements my own dorkiness. (I’m seriously getting emotional omg), like seriously, half the time I spend talking to you I spend it laughing and the other half thinking how much I wanna smother you in hugs. You are an amazing person, and so self-deprecating it makes me wanna head-butt you. You are an amazing writer, even if you think you’re not and I have to literally fight you and yell at you that yes you fucking are.


Okay, I’m done, may the fic begin.

Stiles dropped the duffel bag on the floor, and stubbornly continued to ignore his boyfriend following him inside. 

There were a couple of tense minutes –that Stiles spent stripping his clothes off in harsh and jerky movements- before finally Derek spoke, “I can’t believe you did that.” His voice low, and barely concealing how annoyed he was.

Stiles clenched his jaw and bitterly exhaled from his nose, not reacting in any other way.

“I told you to be careful.” Derek went on, his tone betraying how pissed off he really was now. “You can’t just say things like that to an alpha of a powerful pack like the Connors! You were going to put all of us at risk!”

Stiles whipped his head around, “He insulted you!” he shouted incredulous, taking a couple of steps towards him. “What? Was I supposed to stand there like an idiot, as they insulted my mate?”

Derek sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, “I should’ve never taken you with me.”

And okay, that hurt. That felt like a fucking punch to Stiles’ heart and he felt himself taking a step back in response.

“Stiles,” Derek said, immediately regretting it, “I didn’t mean it like that.”

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The eminently wonderful jj91s noted that it always seems to be Enjolras and Grantaire hiding their relationship and everyone finding out/figuring it out anyway, and she thought it’d be great if E/R weren’t hiding their relationship at all, and their friends just happen to be, well…oblivious.

So I did my best :)

Modern AU, established E/R, ridiculous fluff. That’s all.

Grantaire sighed heavily and drained his glass of wine before setting it down on the table with a satisfying thud. “Well, that’s the night for me, I suppose,” he said, to no one in particular, since Bossuet at his side was deep in a muttered conversation with himself as he scolded his own shoelaces for not staying tied (Bossuet often had conversations with inanimate objects, normally in exasperation for the various things they did to him, often, seemingly, of their own accord).

From across the room, Enjolras looked up and blinked at Grantaire, his brow furrowed slightly. “Leaving so soon?” he called, and the room – previously abuzz with conversation – seemed to hold its collective breath as it waited for Enjolras to scold Grantaire for leaving early without truly helping them, or something of that ilk.

Instead, Grantaire gave Enjolras a genuine and mostly non-sarcastic grin and shrugged. “I promised Joly I’d walk Bossuet home, since he lost a contact. And since he has to get home early for some bizarre reason, I, too, must excuse myself.”

Enjolras smiled back and shrugged. “Ok.” The room let out the breath it had been holding and conversation returned to normal, if slightly relieved that there wasn’t going to be another of Enjolras and Grantaire’s legendary fights. In fact, the conversation returned so rapidly that no one heard Enjolras tell Grantaire, “Let me walk with you part of the way.”

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