1) A time travel fix-it, Steter or Sterek. Idc about rating, and I would prefer a fic to a ticket but I’m not super picky.
2) Supernatural Crossover where either Dean or Sam are in competition w/ Peter for the hand of the witch (Stiles) at the local metaphysical shop.
3) Steter Mafia AU
4) Sterek mafia AU
5) Secretly a Total Badass™️ Stiles
6) Stiles and Lydia either twins or besties running an empire
Rating doesn’t matter that much to me, anything from explicit to gen is fine! I would prefer fic length but ficlets are stellar too. Go hog wild! Hope y’all enjoy my prompts 🫀.
Hello, everyone! It’s Jas (or goldenageofespionage) and I’m a chronically ill/disabled young NB who’s in need of some money. Im trying to see a friend I haven’t seen in ages, and I have physically no ability to work right now. (consequently, $0 income). So, I am opening writing commissions!
I’m not very well known around the fanfiction communities, but I am currently trying to remedy that. I’ve been writing for years, and I often post my fanfictions on AO3. I have written part of a fantasy novel and am currently working on a science fiction/action/superhero series. I long to be a published author.
What I can do:
☾ Fanfiction
☾ Original Stories (tell me exactly what you want. This is for you after all)
☾ Original Characters/Character Background (as long as you provide me enough information, that I can properly construct them)
☾ Reader Inserts
☾ World Building/Backstories (as long as you provide me enough information, that I can properly construct them)
☾ Headcanon Ficlets
☾ Poetry (Give me a subject and type)
☾ I’m open to discussing something you don’t see listed here
What I will not do:
☾ Incest and Pedophilia
☾ Rape/non-con
☾ I reserve the right to not write what makes me uncomfortable, but I’m pretty open and flexible.
Cost/Payment:
☾ $1 for every hundred words
So 500 is $5
1,000 is $10 and so on.
☾ Smut is an extra $5 charge
☾ $0.25 to keep the writing private and sent only to you rather than being posted for public viewing. This is because I can’t attract more viewers if I can’t post my work.
I will be accepting payment via PayPal and Ko-Fi
How to do it:
Email me at [email protected] and we will discuss and work it out. I will not write your story (or stories) without receiving payment first. I will try make sure you receive your story within at least 2 weeks of payment.
You could send some prompts my guy, or we could brainstorm something to write together. I read your post about being in a rut. I'm here for ya. Same goes for @goldenageofespionage
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Teen Wolf (TV)
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Theo Raeken/Stiles Stilinski (Past)
Characters: Stiles Stilinski, Derek Hale
Additional Tags: fluffy fluff, It's floof, Derek has a heart, stiles is sad, Ice Cream, Dirty Dancing soundtrack
Summary:
I’m sleeping over at my friend’s flat from university after study group and just got woken up in the middle of the night by their roommate, who is sitting in the kitchen, listening very loudly to the dirty dancing soundtrack and crying. Like wtf, I didn’t even know they had a roommate and normally I would yell at you but damn you are cute. You really need to stop tho dude, its 4am, some people in this house want to sleep AU
Derek watches as Boyd’s broad back disappears in the crowd. The man doesn’t talk much, but when he does, Derek always listens, even if it is in the middle of Los Angeles First Responders Annual Gala.
This time though Boyd is totally wrong. Yes, Derek has been in the state of prank war (or, as Erica joyfully called it, blue-balls-merry-go-round) with a certain detective Stiles Stilinski from 24th precinct for the past week.
Yes, Derek started it by sending a 2-pound donut to Stilinski with the arson investigation files - which was totally justified because not only was the detective annoying, loud and obnoxious, he also was a die hard Mets fan, which Derek considered a treachery of highest order.
Yes, the situation might’ve spiraled a little out of control when Stiles retaliated by sending a heart-shaped box with steak to the “man-beast of my heart” and Derek answered in-kind by mailing him a copy of the Firefighters calendar, in which he, Derek Hale, Captain of the Firehouse 21, was Mister July.
Yes, Derek might have kept a gorgeous bouquet of roses that Stiles sent him in return because, you know, roses are pretty, but he definitely did not keep a sultry-looking note saying “You know me so well, Big Daddy ;D”, so it has nothing to do with any feelings, right?
Derek looks around the crowd of tuxedos and evening gowns and realization slowly downs on him. He just outbid everyone and offered to pay $2k for a chance to go on a date with detective Stilinski. The money itself is nothing (Derek’s family is loaded and he frequently sugar-daddis his subordinates anyway, besides it is going to be used for charity)…But the reason? Derek tries to convince himself it was all for the sake of winning the prank war, but two tiny voices that sound suspiciously like Erica and Isaac are chanting in his head, De Nile… De Nile…
Derek growls and goes for the exit.
**
It is 2 days before the D-day (D is for the “date”, not “Dick”, Erica) when Derek hears the chatter over the waves about an explosion in the garment district. It’s ten minutes later when he realizes the scale of the disaster and that Stiles, that annoying little shit of a detective Derek looked forward to spending an evening with is in the epicenter of it.
A major drug cartel bust goes terribly wrong, the meth lab explodes and Stiles is pinned down on the second floor of a warehouse because the brave idiot dashes there to provide cover fire for his team to retreat and gets cut off. And while SWAT and FD are trying to decide what to do, the fire reaches critical stage and the roof is about to collapse.
The SWAT leader orders everyone to be on standby -there are still active shooters in the building so the firefighters can’t go in, and SWAT can’t breach because of the fire… But it falls on deaf ears because Derek is already scaling the wall.
He knows what he is doing is not just stupid but likely suicidal, but he just can’t stay and wait until Stiles gets burned alive. Derek cautiously slithers through smoke-filled hallways when someone sneaks behind him.
“Hale?! What the hell are you doing here?”
There is a tall figure leaning onto the door frame, a silhouette Derek instantly recognizes.
“I’m protecting my investment”.
Derek moves closer only to grab Stiles when he slides down on the floor. The detective is clutching his side, hand glistening with blood.
“Yeah, I might’ve to call a rain check on our date…”
Derek pulls him up into a bridal carry and charges for the exit, his heart skipping a beat when Stiles wraps his arms around him. He doesn’t notice how another figure dashes through the smoke towards them, gun in hand, and jerks when a shot rings through the hallway. The figure drops dead and Stiles puts his gun back into his holster, head falling into the crook of Derek’s neck.
“I think it’s the last of them”.
**
It takes 4 days, 2 “accidental” fires, and a head of the Trauma department dr. Martin threatening to kill both Derek and Stiles and dispose of the bodies any of 32 untraceable ways Stiles was so kind to teach her while he was bored, but Stilinski finally gets released from the hospital into the care of the fire captain.
Derek starts the Camaro while Stiles is chatting about something, and asks admiringly,
“Can you please shut up?”
Stiles leans in closer and whispers make me, sending a shiver down Derek’s spine.
**
It takes another week for them to finally go on a proper date, but Derek is completely ok with the waiting because Stiles makes it worth Derek’s while.
In the midst of all this drama, let us never forget that Stiles was the one who went out of his way to learn about Derek’s past. Not Scott, not Isaac, Stiles. Let us never forget that.
Let’s not forget that Stiles was the one to run to Derek to provide him with physical and emotional comfort when boyd died. Not Isaac. Not Jennifer. Not Cora. But Stiles. Let us never forget.
Let’s not forget that in the midst of Stiles’ father being kidnapped/soon to be sacrificed and Scott leaving with Deucalion Stiles could have easily left Derek on the floor of the elevator to be found by the cops, but instead went back for him and screamed at him and slapped him so that he would wake up and could get somewhere safe. Let’s not ever forget that.
A/N: It was supposed to be mostly smut, and turned into three thousand words of plot and mush. There is still smut though. This is also my first time writing porn so…
I may turn this into a chaptered pic, who knows.
Summary: Stiles moved to L.A. and became a powerful magic user. He meets a nice bar owner, who actually turns out to be the Devil. Stiles makes a deal, and has some hot sex in exchange for information.
Pairing: Stiles Stilinski/Lucifer
Word Count: 3,000
Stiles hates L.A. Plain and simple. The place is a hell hole and attracts the supernatural like nothing else. Makes sense though, what with all the posers and sin happening there. Stiles asked himself everyday why he was even here, and then he would remind himself that he really didn’t have anywhere else to be. His father had retired and the pack had rejected him. Which, let’s be honest, hurt like a mother. No one just got over being told they were a liability and then systematically iced out of what they had come to consider a family. He had sacrificed so much for the pack of Beacon Hills, and he didn’t understand how they could just toss him aside.
Other than pack, Stiles really had no reason to stay in Beacon Hills after high school. His dad was safe, staying out of trouble now that he was retired. And now he didn’t even have pack. So he left. The town was full of death and bad memories, leaving Stiles feeling perfectly justified in cutting ties. The abrupt end of his five-year relationship with Derek Hale sure as hell helped that decision along.
All of that, among other things, is why Stiles found himself in a loud club, waiting for the Druid who supposedly had information on some Harpies that had been wreaking havoc at a nearby tourist hotspot. Because stiles took care of that kind of thing on his own now. Three years and rigorous training in Druidic arts had made Stiles a formidable opponent, with a large collection of contacts.
His drink was getting a bit low, and just as he was moving to get a refill a man slid into the booth across from him.
“What is someone as beautiful as you doing all alone?”
Stiles rolled his eyes so hard, he thought they may actually fall out.
“That works for you? Like, honestly? Because I could think of so many more pickup lines. Just as corny, but more likely to make me laugh. And if you can manage that, you might have a chance.”
Stiles wasn’t even going to honor the guy with eye contact. He had a meeting, and judging by the suit and general air of him, the man was a sleaze.
“Well, Darling, aren’t you just sweet. I like a bit of a chase.”
And, really? That just sounded rape-y.
“My dude, are you like, into that weird fake rape shit? Because, I mean, good for you, no kinkshaming from me. But no, not my thing.”
Stiles really hoped he would leave. If Stiles’ ability to profile people was correct though, he wouldn’t. Judging by the accent and the expensive Burberry the man was wearing, he was rich. Add his particular brand of allure, and he probably wasn’t used to being told no.
To Stiles’ utter shock, his thinly veiled insult caused the man to laugh, and put his hand out for a shake. “Lucifer Morningstar. You are?”
“Just about done with this conversation,” Stiles muttered, stopping to analyze.
He tapped his fingers to his chin in thought. Lucifer Morningstar. Interesting. Either he was talking to the literal devil, or this man was nuts. In all honesty, Stiles wasn’t liking the odds of it being the former over the latter. In for a penny, in for a whole fucking looney bin, Stiles figured.
“Lucifer. Like, Samael The light bringer. Torturer of souls. That Lucifer?”
Lucifer smiled wide and drawled in his syrupy sweet accent, “Why yes, guilty as charged.”
Stiles nodded, processing. “And you want to sleep with me? Why?”
The Brit shrugged. “You’re beautiful, and I have a propensity for beautiful things.”
Stiles twirled his empty tumbler, for once in his life thinking his words over before he says them. “You’re the devil, so let’s make a deal. I’m willing to bet you have quite a bit of information, or at least access to it. Am I right?”
Lucifer nodded, intrigued. Usually he was the one proposing deals and setting the terms. But this boy was nearly as interesting as The Detective, and the Devil was dying to know more.
“Well, Mr. Morningstar, I’m Stiles. And I’m in the business of supernatural extermination,” Stiles winced at his own choice of words. “Correction, I take down the bad guys.”
Steepled fingers, really? This guy was like a cartoon villain. Stiles was five seconds away from calling the guy a cook and paying for his drink before leaving.
“It so happens, Stiles, that I am also in the business of ‘taking down bad guys’. I work for the LAPD, and anything to ensure that guilty parties are punished is well within my sphere. No deal necessary if punishment is what you intend to dole out, I’ll provide the information willingly.”
Stiles narrowed his eyes and shook his head. “No. I don’t trust that. A deal is mutually beneficial. I let you take me back to your place, and you provide me with what I need. Does that sound good?”
Lucifer had a strange expression on his face, but he nodded and leaned across the table. “Tell me Stiles, what is it you truly desire?”
“What I really want, in the whole wide world?” Stiles asked in a purposefully ditzy voice.
The Devil nodded and looked to Stiles expectantly.
“Well, Mr. Morningstar,” Stiles bit his lip. “I really, really want a pony.”
Lucifer looked miffed, and Stiles had no idea why, but he was smugly satisfied with himself.
“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a tab to pay before we go.”
Tall, British, and possibly psycho grabbed his arm before he got far. “No need to worry about that.”
“Mazikeen,” Lucifer shouted to the beautiful black bartender. “this young man’s drinks are on me.”
“Lucky for you I only had the one,” Stiles muttered, leaving his glass and following Lucifer.
Much to his surprise, rather than lead Stiles out of the door, Lucifer led him further into the club. There was a private elevator, hidden from the general populace that the man took Stiles into and hit the button for the top floor.
“This is your club,” Stiles breathed, finally beginning to comprehend how rich Lucifer really is, and just what he’s getting himself into.
“Yes. It is.”
Stiles just looked at Lucifer for a moment, and then started laughing. Belly ache inducing laughs. Because this was honestly so ridiculous.
His elevator companion looked completely affronted and that just made Stiles laugh harder.
“I’m so sorry, this is just… this is something out of a bad TV show.”
Lucifer didn’t look any less offended and Stiles felt kind of bad. He calmed himself and smiled softly at Lucifer, putting his hand on the guy’s chest.
“Hey, you’re still really hot and I’m still really into this.”
At that, Lucifer’s mouth tilted up a bit on the side. Stiles decided he liked that and stood on his toes to kiss the corner of that tiny smile. It was equal parts hot and frustrating that the guy had a good four inches on him.
“Well Darling, some may say I’m hot as hell.”
“Moment ruined,” Stiles groaned into Lucifer’s chest where he’d hidden his face. “That was a truly terrible pun, Oh my gosh.”
Lucifer looked at Stiles in surprise. “You didn’t say Oh My God.”
Stiles snorted, “Figured it would be weird to bring up your dad when we’re supposed to be having sex.”
Lucifer agreed with every fibre of his celestial being, and appreciated this fragile human all the more for coming to that conclusion on his own. Taking the initiative this time, Lucifer leaned down slightly to kiss Stiles’ plush pink lips and across his jaw, up to his ear.
“I want you on your knees,” he whispered, nipping the sensitive flesh of Stiles’ ear lobe.
“Yeah? That can be arranged.”
The elevator opened just then, and Stiles dragged Lucifer into the penthouse. Before he could get far though, he looked around in awe.
“This is beautiful,” Stiles whispered.
Lucifer watched on as the boy dragged his hand over the marble bar, all the way until it’s end before immediately moving on to the walls. Stiles’ short attention span had completely moved from sex into admiring Lucifer’s home, and the Devil couldn’t even be mad. The pale boy, with his mole dotted skin and gin-and-tonic eyes, looked intrinsically right standing in Lucifer’s space. His personality and spark filled the whole space and made it feel warm. Lucifer didn’t even feel this way with the detective, and it was wholly unsettling, as he had just met the boy.
“How old are you, Stiles?” Lucifer asked abruptly, startling stiles out of his little bubble.
“Twenty-One as of a week ago.”
Nodding, Lucifer walked up to the boy, pressing against his back. There was no way that Stiles couldn’t feel Lucifer’s erection, which hadn’t flagged at all during their lapse of sexual activity.
Stiles turned his head to grin coyly at Lucifer and run a hand up into his hair.
“You know,” Stiles bit into his spit-slick bottom lip. “I think someone said something about me on my knees?”
Lucifer gave a husky, gravely kind of laugh before leading Stiles into his room. A room that was furnished with plush rugs for occasions such as these. But before anything started, he wanted that boy naked. Stiles seemed to know what Lucifer was thinking, because he stripped off his clothes in record time.
In awe of the beautiful, toned body before him, Lucifer became lost in thought. He didn’t know what about this boy was so appealing to him. While he was plenty pretty, Lucifer leant more towards the striking beauties that knew exactly who he was and exactly how much money he had. Stiles was none of those things, yet Lucifer couldn’t draw his eyes away from his pale, mole dotted skin and his beautiful thighs.
The downside of staring for so long, was that Stiles was apparently insecure. That was unfathomable to Lucifer, because the boy was gorgeous, but humans were strange. Sensing the boy’s unease, and watching that little minx turn into a shy, fidgeting container of insecurity Lucifer changed his plan.
“As much as I’d love to see those beautiful lips put to work, I’d much rather do something else. Come here Darling.”
Stiles walked towards him, unsure. Lucifer brought the naked boy into his clothed lap, already deciding that he would probably need to buy a new suit after this. He looked Stiles in the eye and pet the side of his face.
“You are truly alluring. I don’t think you have a clue how utterly irresistible you are,” Lucifer was smiling softly at Stiles and continuing to stroke his face. Over brow bones and the bridge of his nose. “I couldn’t take my eyes off of you tonight. And then you surprised me with your wit.”
Stiles shuddered under Lucifer’s ministrations, growing hard again. Stiles couldn’t he believe he was about to have sex with the actual devil, but he couldn’t be assed about it. Lucifer had moved to alternately pulling on and gliding his thumbs over Stiles’ nipples. This had Stiles keening and arching into Lucifer’s touch, which the Devil seemed to appreciate.
Stiles leaned in for a kiss, desperate for as much contact between the two of them as possible. Stiles was touch starved, he could admit that. Lucifer seemed perfectly willing to touch him though, and Stiles was going to take advantage.
Going by the amount or pre-cum that was smeared into Lucifer’s shirt and pants, he figured the boy was perfectly on edge. He flipped Stiles so that he was sprawled out on his back, and stood to quickly disrobe himself. He did not want to be away to long from the pale beauty he had spread out so readily. Instead of going up to kiss him, though, like Sties mat have expected, Lucifer slunk to the foot of the bed and kissed the tip of Stiles’ leaking erection. This elicited a delicious choked off gasp from the pale human, and Lucifer smiled. He took the head into his mouth, applying a sporadic suction that had Stiles making little ‘uhn uhn uhn’ noises and giving aborted thrusts of his hips. Lucifer took Stiles down to the root, tracing his tongue down the vein on the underside as he went down, and swallowed around the insistent press at the back of his throat. Above, a constant stream of breathless noises fell from Stiles’ lips as he neared orgasm. Pulling off, Lucifer nipped the crease of Stiles’ thigh, moving higher to suck a hickey into Stiles’ hipbone. He resolutely did not think about the fact that he had never given a fling a hickey before as he swallowed Stiles all the way down again. The unexpected and sudden stimuli caused Stiles, who was already on edge, to cum with a high pitched whine as his body bowed.
Lucifer swallowed it all, then pulled off smiling smugly. He reached for the lube, slicking up his fingers and moving to kiss Stiles. Their tongues twined until Stiles had to turn because he was out of breath.
“You did so well, Darling.”
Lucifer catalogued how Stiles’ eyes fluttered at the praise, and his hips stuttered.
“Now that you’re nice and relaxed, I’m going to open you up. How does that sound?”
Stiles just nodded, eyes glazed and a little far away. Lucifer kissed a trail down his body, slowly inserting a finger into the loosened ring of muscle, wriggling it gently in order to create an easier glide. Stiles sighed happily, his inner walls squeezing around Lucifer’s finger, which was now in to the second knuckle.
He stroked Stiles’ side with his other hand and whispered, “You’re doing perfect,” as he added a second finger, just as slowly as the first.
Stiles took it, bearing down on Lucifer’s fingers as he began to scissor his fingers in small increments. He increased his movements as the walls around his digits loosened, and soaked up the whining keens Stiles was providing in return.
By the time he was up to a fourth finger, Stiles was hard and begging Lucifer to, “Just put it in me, dammit. I need it so bad.”
Lucifer complied, pulling a condom on and lubing up his hard cock.
“How would you like it darling?”
“Like this,” Stiles panted. “Want to see you.”
Lucifer had hoped that was what the human would say, nodding as he guided the head to that starburst entrance. He pushed the in slowly, feeling the almost reluctant give of that tense little muscle, until the head popped in. Lucifer continued to go slowly, listening closely for any signs of discomfort, until he bottomed out. Once he did, Stiles let a punched out breath escape, muscles contracting wildly around Lucifer’s shaft. Stilling his hips, Lucifer rubbed over Stiles’ tight abdominals while leaning in for a slow, syrup sweet kiss. Stiles tasted of rock candy and salt water taffy, with a hint of cinnamon, and Lucifer found himself becoming addicted.
When the clench of muscles loosened a bit, and Stiles relaxed, Lucifer began with incremental little thrusts of his hips that barely moved him in or out.
As Stiles became more vocal, Lucifer pulled out more and set a faster pace. Eventually the found a rhythm, Lucifer pulling halfway out before slamming back in, pace somewhere just over rabbit fast and just under insane. Lucifer would be worried about the bruises that was definitely going to leave, but Stiles loved it. He was keening out requests of more and harder, chanting Lucifer’s name, and moaning with abandon. The boy was loud, Lucifer might even classify him as a screamer. And for the first time, Lucifer enjoyed how loud his partner was, because it was genuine instead of forced. Usually, it was too much like porn for him when his partners got loud. But Stiles was gone on his dick, so genuinely lost in the pleasure that he could not be bothered to modulate his volume.
When Stiles hit that precipice, clenching hard around Lucifer, he called out “Samael!”
That name, a name that no one had called him in a long time. At least, not with that amount of reverence.
That name coupled with the clenching walls of the beautiful boy beneath him pushed Lucifer over the edge, cumming hard into the condom as he lost control. His wings, which he had still not managed to permanently remove, shot from his back.
Lucifer had a moment of sheer panic as he waited for the freak-out, but Stiles just reached out to stroke them, which caused an after shock to run through Lucifer’s body.
“These are pretty,” Stiles slurred, hand falling back to his side. “I wanna cuddle them. And you.”
Lucifer smiled fondly as he pulled out and discarded of the condom. He didn’t bother to put his wings away, since Stiles so seemed to enjoy them.
At this point, Lucifer would usually politely offer his bedfellows a drink and a cab home. Stiles though, was already mostly asleep. And he just looked so beautifully radiant, so perfect curled up there in Lucifer’s bed.
Instead of kicking him out, like Lucifer really knew he should, Lucifer just pulled back the blankets. He pressed up against the back of Stiles, as the big spoon, before wrapping his arms and then wings around the boy. As he tangled their legs, thinking the silent Stiles was already asleep, a long-fingered hand stroked softly over a wing.
“I hope you have someone to keep you company in this big ol’ penthouse. And flings don’t count. It’s so lonely without someone. Trust me, I know,” Stiles said quietly, words becoming more incomprehensible as he slowly drifted into sleep.
Lucifer’s heart clenched, because he didn’t have someone to keep him company. Not really. And He wanted that. He wanted that with this lonely witch boy, who had essentially fallen into his lap.
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