Tony Stark has worked hard to make sure everyone sees exactly what he wants them to. After all, they'd all rather see the asshole with the too-bright smile than the terrified person underneath who is desperately trying to conceal that which has caused him so much pain. Trust him, he knows.
(Tony Stark is a mutant, and his father had made sure to note /exactly/ how he felt about that. Now, with the Avengers living with him full-time, it's getting more and more difficult to hide the part of him that almost no one still alive knows about.)
- Part 1 of Shades
Bookmarked by chachamaru43
16 Jun 2017
There are times when he feels as if they could fall into bed together, easy as breathing. If Stiles were not highborn, if he were an omega without connections, Derek would be sorely tempted. As it is, he resists. Derek wants, he yearns, but he resists. Still, the sight of Stiles in his cot is enough to test him, even now that it is familiar. At the end of each lambing season, he sleeps for a week, worn down by months of hard work, of relentless struggle. He doesn’t know how he’ll feel by the time Stiles leaves, how he’ll feel after long days and longer nights spent resisting the insistent tug of Stiles’s scent and the inclinations of his own foolish heart.
All Derek wants is to get through the lambing season with his body and spirit intact. He had thought that the blizzards would be the main danger, not a highborn omega with beautiful eyes and a stubborn streak.
NB: it baffles me that I have to say this, but please don't put this fic onto goodreads.
Bookmarked by chachamaru43
15 Jun 2017
Fandoms: Teen Wolf (TV)
31 May 2013
Instead he sits for a moment, looking at the empty search box, fingers on the home row the way his mother taught him. He thinks about that, and about the hole in the wall he’d lived with for so long, and the way Isaac had grinned at him last night when he’d finally gotten around to plugging the refrigerator in.
He finds himself typing in, “how to be a normal person.”
“I want to get married,” Stiles says, petulantly.
Derek’s heart races at first, speeds with the excitement and exhilaration of the idea of it, before he realizes Stiles is holding Isaac’s wedding invitation, heavy cardstock with the pretentious french parfum wafting through the air.
“You just want presents,” he says, holding the door open and stepping back, so that Stiles can come in.
“No,” Stiles says. “I mean, yes, obviously I would have the world’s coolest registry and wouldn’t waste my time with crystal stemware, but that’s not my point.” He throws himself backwards onto Derek’s couch in a huff.
“You want to get married,” Derek repeats dryly.
“Exactly, my friend,” Stiles says, pointing at him. “Exactly.”
- Part 4 of tumblr fics
Stiles is Alpha bait.