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tin-wufborf · 4 months ago

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Tin's Favorite Sterek Fics (Part 11)

Hello again, and welcome to part 11! I cannot believe I'm up to 11 parts on this thing with more to come (though not too many more, I think). That means I've recommended 200 fics/series so far as I've been doing 20 recs per post. Tbh I'm actually pretty proud of myself over this because it means I've been showing incredible restraint throughout this process in only recommending my favoritiest-favorites as opposed to every single fic I can remember liking even a little bit (don't worry, that will be the next series lol). For reference, I currently have 2,610 Sterek bookmarks in total on AO3 and have so far reviewed 1,749 of them to get to those select 200. That is wild to me lol.

BUT ANYHOOZLE.

As always, thank you all again for the support you've shown this series. I hope you're all having as good a day as you can, if not a great day. Smoochies and squeezies from me to you!

List and links to previous/next part(s) below the cut.

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DISCLAIMER: This is me warning you all that some of the fics I've included in this list may cover explicit, dark, and/or "taboo" subject matters. I cannot express enough how little I care what anyone thinks about any of that; all I want is for you to use caution when reading anything I've listed here and to please review and heed whatever tags the authors have provided in order to keep yourselves safe. Your experience from this point on is your own responsibility, not mine and not the authors'.

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not enough by Jana_C (G | 1/1 | 1,569)

Sometimes love is just not enough.

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A Quiet Night (Not in the Cards) by Delightful_I_Am (T | 1/1 | 4,369)

"Derek fucking Hale!"

The shout rang through the bar and for a long moment nobody moved. It was like something out of a movie. Everything just stopped; the music cut off; one of the servers had frozen mid-pour. Grady would have laughed if he weren't holding his breath. The kid straightened his shirt, a glimpse of stomach showing the curling edges of a tattoo on his hip, and strode toward where Hale was sitting in the dark corner. As one, every supe in the place turned to see Hale's reaction; the last person to try to confront Hale in here had left with a broken hand and a whispered threat that the next time Hale would rip their throat out. With his teeth. Unsurprisingly, Hale's face was set in its usual glower, although it seemed a bit softer around the eyes. It took Grady a second to realise Hale knew the kid.

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Painted Wooden Letters by DiscontentedWinter (T | 5/5 | 10,013)

All he ever wanted to be was Stiles Stilinski.

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Babcia Knows Best by thepsychicclam (T | 1/1 | 11,887)

Stiles takes his grandmother to bingo every Thursday. Now there's a new guy calling out the numbers, and his grandmother has decided to set them up.

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god knows I am dissonance by scepticallyopenminded (E | 1/1 | 24,239)

Stiles has zero regrets – zero, absolutely none – about leaving Beacon Hills after he graduates from Stanford. He knows his dad is good, has friends, has the force, has Melissa, and knows that even if he and Mel weren’t dating, that Scott has the sheriff’s back, will take care of him, keep him safe.

He knows Lydia has no regrets, either, and the two of them hop a plane less than a week after the graduation ceremony, two full weeks before their lease in Menlo Park is even up. They pack up a U-Haul, go back to Beacon Hills for two nights, and then they’re off to LAX, three suitcases and two carry-ons between the both of them.

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There's joy not far from here by Talis89 (M | 9/9 | 28,354)

“I’m coming,” Derek calls, shrugging on a sweater. The first few days of March had been warm, but the weather has turned in the last week - winter's last ‘fuck you’ - and Derek is expecting the icy blast as the warm air rushes out the front door. “What—” His breath freezes in his throat.

“Hey there, Sourwolf.”

Stiles is standing on the front porch— Derek’s front porch— his right hand waved in a half wave.

“Stiles?” Derek almost takes a step back. “What are you— how?”

Two years after Derek runs from Beacon Hills, Stiles turns up at his front door looking for his own escape. What follows is a story of adventure, healing and finding a place to call home.

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The Heart Remains The Same by heartsdesire459 (T | 1/1 | 28,797)

When Stiles left for college, he already knew the truth... Stiles wasn't a 'he' at all. Dropped into a new, exciting, liberating level of freedom that came with going to college somewhere without anyone who knew her, Stiles began to explore her true self and began her quest to become the girl she knew she had always been. Her fears of everyone's reactions back home led to skipping the first holiday... and then a second. And then the next.

Two and a half years after leaving Beacon Hills - two and a half years spent living an entire new life as a trans!woman - a call in the night forces Stiles to go back to Beacon Hills to face the people she had left and the friends she had abandoned.

“Stiles… it’s your dad.”

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The Second Coming (of Werewolf Jesus) by lupinus, uraneia (E | 3/3 | 40,104)

Stiles was enjoying his senior year until his crazy English teacher decided he made the best candidate to gestate Derek's kid. Now Stiles is a seventeen-year-old pregnant dude and he and Derek have to figure their shit out, because in nine months they are going to be tied together for the rest of their lives.

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Burning House by 1jet2unknown, nottoolateforthegame (E | 15/15 | 41,007)

“Why am I here? What was the point of showing me all that? It’s not like it’s going to change anything!”

You can change it.

“How?!”

You can change it if you go back.

“Then take me back!”

Stiles’s stomach lurched as the world tilted and stretched sideways.

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Now as Ever (All That Is and Has Been) by venis_envy (E | 16/16 | 52,270)

Stiles can't remember what happened to rearrange the time-space continuum, or how he ended up being pulled into the past. All he knows is that he's there now, in 2003 Beacon Hills, with a teenage werewolf and a possibly-crazy veterinarian as his only allies.

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Words Cannot Espresso How Much You Bean to Me by isthatbloodonhisshirt (wasterella) (T | 1/1 | 68,368)

“You’re late,” Derek informed him coldly, jaw clenched. He barely even moved his mouth to speak. This guy was seriously scary.

And because Stiles was suicidal, he said, “No, I’m Stiles.”

The look he got could’ve curdled milk. Stiles even noticed that Derek’s muscles were tensing, arms bulging even more and wow this guy was scary and hot but mostly scary holy shit.

“You’re not funny,” Derek informed him coldly.

Stiles shrugged. “I think that’s a matter of opinion.”

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Daybreak by TheObsidianQuill (M | 10/10 | 70,382)

"There . . ." Stiles swallowed and looked down at the bottle in his grasp as he slowly swirled the amber liquid inside. "There's really nothing left. For me. Everyone is . . . gone, and it feels like I haven't thought of tomorrow in years." His words rang in the air like a gunshot, he took another heavy drink. "I would trade every last breath I take to just have another shot—not even a guarantee, just a chance to make things right and bring back even one of them." -----

The pack was gone. He had nothing left. He had no one. With nothing to lose, Stiles puts everything on the line to go back in time to try to prevent the future from becoming his past. Broken, guarded, and haunted by his past, only one overgrown-pup of a wolf seems able to get past his defenses. Changing the future? Easy. Finding a place for himself in the Hale Pack? Impossible.

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What Goes Around by KouriArashi (M | 16/16 | 71,451)

“Well,” Stiles says, “if they’re going to hunt werewolves, I’m going to hunt them.”

It’s a ridiculous statement from a ten-year-old, but he’s obviously one hundred percent sincere. For the first time since the fire, Peter feels life stir inside him, feels purpose. It’s kismet, clearly. He’ll never meet the child he would have had with Olivia. Instead he’s met this boy, this brilliant, determined, cynical child with a world of potential.

Peter kneels down in front of him so they’re at eye level. “How do you feel about doing that together?”

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The Law of the Jungle by Nutellargh (E | 1/1 | 75,854)

After the Kanima fiasco is over, Derek takes his three betas and leaves Beacon Hills. Stiles knows he could contact him if needed, but they barely keep in touch, and only about mundane things. 4 years later, after a steady stream of supernatural issues they somehow manage to deal with, Lydia is the one to contact Derek when Stiles starts looking worse and worse everyday, with no idea as to how or why. The Slavic monster draining Stiles' energy points them to a much bigger issue Beacon Hills has been troubled with for years.

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Windows by dr_girlfriend (E | 28/28 | 83,266)

Derek has a new neighbor who won't stop looking.

Excerpt:

“You’re blind,” Derek said flatly, the anger draining from him so suddenly he felt almost woozy. His vision cleared, his claws sliding back into blunt fingernails.

“Thanks for the memo, genius,” the kid said acidly. “I can still fucking defend myself, so don’t take another damn step.”

“Fuck, I...I’m sorry,” Derek stuttered.

“What?!” The kid’s brow crinkled. “I mean — what?! You’re fucking sorry!?” His lips thinned into a harsh line. “What, is this some kinda Hallmark movie where you’re discovering the error of your ways because you don’t want to rob a blind person?! That’s fucking condescending, man. I’ll have you know that —”

“Just, wait.” Derek interrupted what was apparently the start of a convincing argument as to why he should rob the kid after all, feeling his head start to spin. “This is — it’s a misunderstanding. I’m — I’m not robbing you. You’re — you’re safe, okay? I’m taking three steps back. Just — just let me explain.”

“Explain why you came busting into my apartment? Yeah, go right ahead, man, I can’t wait to hear this epic tale.”

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where thou art, that is home series by ShanaStoryteller (8 works | NR-E | 94,108)

Hi, Tin here. Once again, Tumblr is deciding not to allow me to post any of the individual stories and summaries here, so here's a very brief summary without me waxing poetic about the series:

This is a canon-divergent AU series that acts as a sort of "fix it" for the universe without sacrificing the things we know and love from canon (imo). It begins with Stiles (and Scott as his co-pilot) managing to prevent the Hale fire from taking out the whole of the Hale pack and then moves forward from there. Lots of BAMF!Everyone abound and interesting takes on existing tropes and canon elements. I urge you all to check it out.

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The Taming of the Wolf by Amethystina (T | 15/15 | 105,352)

When Stiles seeks shelter from the rain in a rundown house in the middle of the woods, the last thing he expects is to find that someone is actually living there. Even less that the person in question isn't quite human. Derek is something else entirely.

Before he knows it, Stiles is thrown into a world he knows very little about and while he enjoys the unlikely and complex relationship that sparks between them, it's obvious that something darker is lurking in the shadows. Something from Derek's past that is just waiting to tear them apart.

Chapters 13, 14 and 15 are bonus chapters, featuring the same story but from Derek's POV (a total of 40 700 words). This is basically two fics in one.

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Anthracite by LupusScintilla (inkandblade) (E | 16/16 | 106,673)

It's been a quiet few years, and the McCall Pack has grown and settled. But, when the Hale Pack return to Beacon Hills they find Scott isn't as welcoming as they had hoped.

Soon they, Stiles, and Lydia, find out that not everything about the McCall Pack is as it has always seemed.

♠

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All Bark and No Bite series by MoonlitMemories (3 works | NR-M | 157,246)

1. Protect and Serve (M | 17/17 | 150,789) Stiles discovers the Nemeton starting to grow again in the preserve on Hale land. What does that mean for the pack? More importantly: why does the Nemeton seem so attached to Stiles? 2. Baby makes Three (G | 1/1 | 3,202) Erica finds out she's pregnant. 3. One of Us (NR | 1/1 | 3,255) Malia doesn't know what to do with the Hale pack.

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Get You The Moon by A ClosedFicIsNeverRead (E | 30/30 | 180,785)

Derek looked up in surprise to note that they were taking a private jet. Dread settled into his gut like a stone. “It has a cage, doesn’t it?” he asked quietly, and noted the subtle changes in his family members’ posture. “Is it for me?” Cora gave him a pleading look and nodded. “Is it because of what you’re going to tell me?” he asked, voice like gravel. Another nod confirmed it. Stiles. Oh, GOD. It had to be Stiles. Derek would not lose control over anyone else in Beacon Hills and they damned well knew it.

- OR -

The one where Derek has been gone for 6 months building a new life, finds out that Stiles is being assaulted by Theo, so he comes back to Beacon Hills to kick some serious ass and rescue the loudmouthed human who stole his heart.

(You will need ALL the tissues, but it will have a happy ending by the time all is said and done!)

Title inspired by song: ‘Get You The Moon’ by Kina ft. Snow

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#teen wolf #sterek #derek hale #stiles stilinski #sterek fic rec list #sterek fic rec #fic rec list #rec list #fic rec #tin's rec lists

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whumpshaped · 1 year ago

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can i get enthralled for vampire bingo? O.O

this was the last bingo prompt in my inbox! im always open to more :) its some more mundane whump. just some idle time. i wrote so much enthrallment already, so i decided to just make it the topic of this one

masterlist bingo card

tw vampire whumper, dehumanisation, lots of talk about mind control

"You said you'd never taken a human without magic before."

"I did say that, yes."

Beck poked at his evening fill of macaroni with his fork, pretending he was more interested in that than the question he was about to ask. He was very casual about the question, obviously. It was just a little chat over dinner. "Why'd you do it this time?"

"Why..." Helle shifted on the other end of the sofa, putting down the rubik's cube they were fiddling with. Beck glanced at it briefly — one side of it was all blue, but the rest were mishmash. "Forgive me for saying this, but I doubt you would understand the situation I had been in before I made that decision. You know... like not being able to have a single meaningful conversation because everybody is affected by your magic to an unhealthy degree, essentially forcing them to change their entire personality and all their values to please you."

Beck nodded. "Yeah, no, that's... not very familiar."

"I had a hunch. But let us explore this fantasy for a moment. I assume you would immediately use those powers to do... whatever the hell you wanted. Because you can. Nobody is objecting. Nobody is saying no to you. In fact, everybody is very eager to do whatever it takes to make you interested in them."

"But it's wrong."

"Yes. It is. But I also left out the part where your only options are this, or severe malnourishment that actually leaves you unable to obtain even the lesser quality food you had been eating up until that point."

Beck stared at his macaroni. Would he have wanted to eat it if it was sentient? Would he have wanted to make it want to be eaten? Well, if the other option was to have it kick and scream... possibly, yes. Thankfully, his macaroni was wonderfully unfeeling.

Plus, this entire monologue was supposed to eventually lead to why Helle wanted their macaroni to scream. "Sorry," he muttered. "Go on."

"So you do that for centuries. You enthrall people, you feel like you are on the very top of the world. Nobody can touch you." They paused for a moment, and Beck looked up to see them smiling at him. "Now, does it not sound a bit lonely? Is it not natural to want to be touched?"

"I still can't touch you." He turned back to his dinner and took a bite, and he found he felt less worried about stating that than he probably should've. Maybe the constant fear had tired him out. Made him numb. "You're a vampire. You're faster, stronger..."

"Oh, but you can. You absolutely can. You choose not to." The concept almost made Helle giddy from the sound of it, like it was revolutionary. "You can sit here and tell me that I am wrong. You could throw that entire plate of pasta at me. You choose not to, because yes, maybe I would get out of the way, or maybe I would shove your face into a pot of boiling water and make some Beckaroni, but you could."

Great. As if his appetite had been amazing before. He really needed the image of Beckaroni in his head.

He put the plate on the coffee table and sat back. "Okay. Fine. I could. If you're so interested in me having a choice, why are you taking it away anyway? Why are you doing all this? You do nothing but intimidate me into going along with whatever you want. At this point you could just enthrall me."

"Oh, so I am only allowed to spend immortality without getting so bored that I want to stake myself if I then respect all the humans I choose not to enthrall."

"I mean– I mean, yes! Yes, that's actually what I'm saying. Otherwise it's fucking cruel."

Helle considered him for a moment, actually thinking about his words before they responded. "I suppose with the information you have been given, that is quite a reasonable conclusion to reach. I have left out another important detail." They looked Beck in the eye, their expression darkening in a way he couldn't even explain. It was like the air was being sucked out of his lungs as they stared him down, making him tremble and immediately wish for the easy atmosphere back. "I am cruel. I want you to have those choices specifically so I can take them away from you in a more thrilling way that is fun for me, and me only."

taglist: @whumpsday @the-scrapegoat @hidden-dreamland @dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night @delicateprincepaper @whumppmuhw @florissimps @nicolepascaline @oliversrarebooks @the-cyrulik @pirefyrelight @there-will-always-be-blood @pigeonwhumps @echo-goes-mmm @whumpycries

#at my beck and call #whump #whump writing #helle #beckett #vampire whumper #dehumanisation #mind control

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flydotnet · 1 year ago

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Bad Things Happen Bingo! The event where you send me requests according to this marvelous card! (Red cross is the completed prompt, character headshots are prompts I’ve already filled).

He's a child with the brain of an adult, the biggest moron you've ever seen!

I cannot get over the fact I somehow didn't write for Detectice Conan until this week. This franchise was my actual gateway into whump when I was 6 and my ass still didn't write any juicy stuff with it. I got back into DCMK back in 2017, have rewatched select episodes and/or movies of it (mostly the 1st and 2nd ones, which are both part of my formative whump experience lol) every year… but nope!

Actually, this prompt was supposed to be for IDOLiSH7, and I had the idea for it written down for two years; but let's be real, I was never going to write it, especially this late, and instead, I jumped onto the first other opportunity to get rid of this prompt.

That opportunity came in the form of Tekiro who, to my surprise, actually paid attenion to my stupid ramblings about my stupid bingo card for whomst knows what dark purposes, and handed me an idea on a silver platter: DCMK, Shinichi as Conan and Ran, post-falling-into-some-water-during-a-case. I was smitten with the idea and ran with so hard.

I think the final product did diverge from Tekiro's original idea, unfortunately. Ran was meant to play a much more proactive role in this, but instead, I ended up with mostly Shinichi doing what he does best: overthink absolutely everything and also simping for Ran while he's at it. The image of Conan buried in blankets was fun though!

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Blanket Statements

Summary: Shinichi, buried underneath three and a half blankets, ponders upon the orb (his feelings on the situation and also how cool Ran is).

Fandom: Detective Conan Relationships: Shinichi/Ran

Word Count: 1.7K words

AO3 version available here.

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Somewhere through the haze of fever, between two approximate tons of blankets covering from chin to toe, one statement rings through his mind: this is somewhat humiliating.

Well, Shinichi supposes being a genius sixteen-year-old stuck in a six-year-old’s body is embarrassing to begin with since nobody takes you seriously anymore (except, like, two cops, a fugitive from the criminal organisation who got you there in the first place and one jackass from Osaka who somehow guessed you were a genius sixteen-year-old stuck in a six-year-old’s body). Being treated like a child has certainly not stopped irking him, even if with time, the mask has started sticking with a little less discomfort to his face; but this is another humiliation altogether, even compared to what’s sadly become his daily life.

For all of the mishaps he’s had on cases and outside of his favourite activity in the whole world, Shinichi had never pictured himself buried in a pile of blankets, with just his face sticking out from there, in the Mouris’ flat of all places. Maybe Prof Akasa’s lab would’ve felt less shameful, since that man has seen him in states Shinichi can only hope to forget the memory of, but the Mouris’? Where Ran lives? Mortifying.

The way he ended up in this situation is a farce in itself – that much he knows from how Hattori mocked the hell out of him on the phone when he had to explain the context behind one of Ran and Kazuha’s conversations that stupid Osakan had caught word of. He wouldn’t have needed said Osakan’s opinion to think that, of course, but it only serves to corroborate what he already deducted.

It was just a run-of-the-mill criminal case in Beika: suspicious death near a river, three suspects without any alibi and possible motives all around, foul play clearly involved. Truth be told, it was almost insulting how easy it was for Shinichi to untangle the whole thing and straighten it into a single timeline to take everyone along for the side with Uncle’s cigarette-laden voice.

Or, well, it’d have been, if he hadn’t fallen straight into the cold waters below when trying to showcase something to Inspector Megure.

Instead, it very much had the opposite effect: not only did it then take Inspector Sato around fifteen minutes to deduce what he was trying to hint at, it also threw the whole situation for a loop because, for all of his athletic prowess, Shinichi had trouble swimming with the heavy winter gear Ran had dressed him up in and drowning became a possibility much too fast to his liking.

Ran did save him from the waters, at least, but not before he was thoroughly soaked and had to stew in his own juices for a little while. There was no hiding behind the bushes to pretend to be Sleeping Kogoro either, so it was a long, drawn-out time session of whodunnit – one Shinichi was very frustrated not to be participating in and very satisfied to leave.

If it had stopped at an uncomfortable half-hour spent watching not-that-sharp-witted detectives (and Inspector Sato) try putting together a puzzle that wasn’t that complicated because nobody had noticed the clue left by the riverbank, Shinichi wouldn’t be stewing in his frustration and pile of blankets. No, that’d have been too easy, and someone in the skies above has something against him, he’s certain of it.

It’s a cliché. It’s such a cliché and he’s certain hypothermia isn’t supposed to do that to you aside from, well, hypothermia – but Shinichi has fallen ill after a dip in the water and it pisses him off.

Yeah, okay, he’s caught what can honestly be called a nasty cold, but this doesn’t mean Ran isn’t going overkill with it. He loves her, he really does, including when she gets protective over him (even when she doesn’t know it, courtesy of his current form); but this really is too much.

Ran’s always been like that, though. Once she gets into caring mode, there’s nobody that can stop us. Not even a tsunami could, Shinichi is certain: if he, or her father, or Sonoko, or Kazuha was trapped in the midst of a deadly flood, a wall of water heading for all of them, Ran would swim back to them, put them to safety, and only then maybe think of saving herself. It’s nerve-wracking to be around her, sometimes, when you know she’ll absolutely destruct herself if it means saving someone.

Long reasoning short, it’s not surprising that she’d bury him under a bazillion blankets too much for a simple cold; so imagine one where his voice, usually so childish and disgustingly high-pitched for a teen (let alone impossible to take seriously, let’s be real there), has almost gone instinct on him and where he can spike a fever whenever his body feels like it’s not doing enough damage to the virus inside it. Delightful, really.

It’d be more delightful if it didn’t feel like being smothered in a thousand heavy blankets by the strongest arms in the world – but what can Shinichi say? That he doesn’t like the attention? That’d be a lie. He couldn’t even say that without breaking into a terribly tense smirk. That’s ridiculous.

Ridiculous, but also somewhat humiliating. And also, he’s dying from blanket overdose.

Time to do something about it, he supposes.

“Raaaaan,” he takes on his whiny little snotty brat voice (even if it sounds more scratched than Prof Akasa’s dust-covered records that he still uses, for some reason), “do I really need all those blankets?”

She turns around in half a second (Shinichi refuses to think for even a second this fever and the mucus in his brain are slowing his mind, he’s more than above that) and rushes in a swift run, hair flowing behind her and picking all of the daylight in the room.

“You’ll be cold if you take them off!” She replies without a single grain of reluctance. “And you need to be warm!”

“But… I’m way too hot, Raaaaan…”

Instead of getting at least one blanket off him, out of three (a meltingly comfortable plaid, a scratchy blanket Uncle keeps in his office for some reason and Ran’s favourite, he can tell by the fragrance, it’s very pleasing), she kneels in front of the couch with a worried frown that’s both endearing and infuriating.

“Let me see,” she tells him in that voice she always gives the Detective Boys, always gives Conan.

Maybe it’s because having a head cold is making him snappier, but he can’t jive with that tone as well as he usually does. Most days, he can just bypass the infantilization of it all to focus on what matters (Ran paying him her upmost attention and spending all her time with him).

Ran does what she tends to do when confronted with someone with too red of a cheek: she puts her left hand on her forehead, palm against skin, and the back of her right on someone else’s forehead. Strands of his hair, soaked with sweat, are clinging to the base of her fingers, but she doesn’t complain, doesn’t as much as frown in disgust or discomfort, not even slightly.

“Your fever’s gone down a little,” she concludes with a slightly less concerned voice and alleviated features, much to his own relief. “But we need to keep it in check!”

“I know, Ran, I knooooow.”

She gets back up and stares at the pile in front of her, tilting her head left to right and back to left, a pout on her lips.

“On second thought, if you’re feeling better, maybe we could take off a blanket… Do you feel too hot, Conan?”

He vigorously shakes his head to the point of dizzying himself. This would be embarrassing if he wasn’t too busy trying to get himself a little freer, and also, dealing with a stupid head cold that has turned everything about his sharp senses into nothing but meaningless mush.

“I see,” Ran muses, fingers dancing on her chin before she finally goes for the top blanket – the scratchy one Kogoro keeps in his office. “Is it better?”

He nods again and, to his pleasure, it’s both cooler on his overheated skin and bringing a smile to the girl he’s officially dating when not obligated to be in a six-year-old’s literal shoes.

“That’s good, then! Do you need anything else?”

Shinichi hesitates on that one. Ran’s pretty much been hovering him nonstop for two days, and it’s starting to show on her face. Not so deep down, he knows he doesn’t need much: he has water near him, there is no painkillers he can take for a couple more hours, his eyelids are drooping again and he’s, at the end of the day, a teenager used to living alone.

However, being Conan has a couple perks; most importantly, if he wants to be a needy brat who just has to have big sis Ran by his side during a boring Sunday while sick with a killer head cold, then he gets to be that brat all over again. Ran can barely say no to Conan, much more than she’d be with Shinichi, and there just have to be perks about his current situation. Moreover… Faded memories of frankly lonely days spent wasting away in bed or on the couch with barely any attention other than Prof Akasa’s have left him wanting for more, and if usually he can keep it at bay with a passion for crime mysteries, now, it’s a whole other story. A distraction is always welcome.

All in all, with a dashing uniform vote from all of his sides, Shinichi decides being whiny as Conan is the best use of his stupidly boring sick day.

“Can you stay with me?” He asks, sniffling, as miserable as the most cliché Victorian child possible.

As always, to his upmost happiness, Ran’s face softens and she gives him the sweetest smile as she comes to sit next to him.

“Of course I can do that, Conan,” she replies with words like honey. “Anything else?”

“No, that’s good enough.”

He lets his head droop on her shoulder and falls asleep right here and there.

He can think about this being humiliating or not when it doesn’t feel as fuzzy and warm to be bundled in so many blankets.

#bad things happen bingo #detective conan #dcmk #bundled up in blankets #shinran #tbhb

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cx-boxbox · 7 months ago

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Tag game :D

Tagged by: @wisteriagoesvroom!

Who is your favorite driver? Oscar and Lando first and foremost, Max, Guanyu, and Alex because they're funny and they have cats, Yuki because he loves food.

Do you have other favorite drivers? I'm on the fence about Logan because on one hand, he seems nice but on the other, he reminds me of too many guys I went to high school with. (The fishing hobby doesn't exactly help either.)

Who is your least favorite driver? I am a hater at heart, but I don't want to be crucified, so I'll just let whoever stumbles across this post wonder.

Do you pull for drivers or do you like teams as well? I didn't want to attach myself too much to a team in case the drivers I like leave, but sure, McLaren, you've somewhat charmed me, and you're faster now, so.

If you like teams, what team do you pull for? See above.

How long have you been into F1? HAH since mid-January.

What got you into F1? This tiktok of George reacting to potential intro poses, NONE OF WHICH WE ACTUALLY SAW SMH, and then I fell down a rabbit hole of F1 memes. If there's one way to hook me, it's memes. I've made a fair few myself, and if you've seen one that goes "people be like 'good night everyone' but then *insert screenshot of ao3*" floating around tumblrdotcom, that was unfortunately me.

Do you enjoy Fanfic/RPF? No. Absolutely not.

How do you view new fans? I feel like I'm still a new fan. Like, yes, I can explain DRS to anyone who asks, but I still feel like an imposter.

If you could take over as team principal for any team, who would it be and why? Brother uehhh (sorry). I'm already experiencing enough hair loss, thank you. Although, now that I think about it, I could be rich while experiencing hair loss... nah, nobody can pay me enough to babysit men.

Are your friends and family into F1 as well? I told my sibling about F1 when it was still just a budding interest, and they were like "you getting into F1 was NOT on my 2024 bingo card"... and, plot twist, now they're also into F1, and their favorite driver is Carlos. My mother also enjoys it enough to send me memes, like the one depicting the Ferrari pit crew as Smurfs during the Miami GP. My partner sadly doesn't Get My Obsession with F1, but they did immediately rate ZGY a 10, so that's good enough for me.

Are you open to talking to other fans/making friends? Yeah! I'm terrible at approaching people, though. Aside from sending a couple anonymous compliments to writers whose fics I've especially enjoyed, reaching out to other users sometimes feels like sending a professor an email, which is to say it's terrifying, but I'm definitely open to talking. And after I warm up to someone, I fear you'll never stop hearing from me. Ki and Wiz can confirm.

Whoever sees this and wants to play, go right ahead!

#tag game

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syn4k · 2 years ago

Note

you know why I’m here.

(From the @hermits-in-space Space AU, more formally known as Scar's Failsafe Guide to the Galaxy (SFGG)! Interested in this oneshot? Go follow the account!)

---

Really, thought Chrys, shimmying through an annoyingly constrictive air vent, it's not like they hadn't expected anyone to show up. They shouldn't have. And yet, here he was: very weak motion sensors on this side of the ship, an unopened vent with an easily enough hijackable airlock bay, crawling through and trying to figure out where in hell Hex was.

They could be being contained against their will. Or forced to do slave labor. Or knocked unconscious. Or worse.

We don't think about worse, Chrys firmly told himself. We get in. We get the idiot. We leave. Simple enough.

Who's "we?" another, quieter voice in his brain whispered, and Chrys sighed.

He'd been tracking down his annoyingly elusive younger brother for... a couple cycles now. Six, maybe seven? It's not his fault that Hex had managed to get off of the planet somehow and promptly disappeared into the greater universe, and yet everyone seemed to think it was.

The job here was to get this idiot back home, sign the pact or whatever, and then things would be okay-ish. Normal-ish. Then again, being out in space running with the stars know who change a person, and not always for the better.

Off-track. He was getting off-track. Were those voices he could hear? He crawled closer to the opening in the vent, making sure that nobody could see from any angle. Stars, it was cramped in here.

"-found a ship docked to the side of ours," sighed one voice. Shit. Five doubles says that's mine.

"Markings, affiliation?" asked another voice, slightly nasally and undoubtedly tired. Chrys didn't know what time this ship ran on, but it was probably early. Good.

"None that I can see so far from the cameras," said the first. "It's yellow, though, which is an odd choice for a singleperson ship."

"Any sign of the person themself?" asked a third voice. Chrys caught sight of a long reptilian tail flapping. He couldn't see the other two yet.

"None," said the first voice.

"Might run another scan," sighed the second. "It's ass-o-clock in the morning, False. Rock paper scissors to see who has to do it?"

"I don't need sleep," said the third voice icily. "I need answers."

Somewhere, Chrys could hear a door opening but not shutting. The second and third voice (False?) walked off together, arguing about... something. The first person stayed where they were, and walked slowly into the view of the slats between the vents. Pink helmet, solid build, is that a... tail???

"Hex, what are you doing up here this late?" asked the guy in the pink suit. Chrys pressed his face to the vent, trying to get a good view of the person he had been looking for for so long.

"Couldn't sleep," said Hex's voice- yep, that was Hex- from just out of seeing range. "What's going on?"

"Unrecognized single-person flyer docked," said the first voice. "Take a look."

Hex finally came into view, but what Chrys saw was absolutely not what he expected.

See, in a species of shapeshifters, their family had made a pact with a neighboring one of a different kind so that when their kids came of age to change into their forms, they would choose the form of the other species.

Speculti (or, Hex and Chrys' species) could only shapeshift once, into the likeness of the first person of another species they touched.

Before he left, Hex had not undergone this procedure. Now, though, he looked markedly different..?

"Huh," said Hex, bending down. "Looks kinda like... oh, shit."

"Like what?" asked the first voice.

"Like me," said Chrys, dropping down onto the floor (that was a bigger drop than expected) (that hurt) (goddamn OW). "Hex, what the fuck did you get yourself into?"

"This was not on my bingo card for the year," muttered Hex. They sighed. "X, this is my brother Chrysalis, better known as Chrys. Chrys, this is Xisuma, or shortened X, the captain of this ship, a.k.a the H.S.S."

"You assholes better unhand my brother right now or there'll be hell to pay," Chrys growled, taking out a pair of nunchucks and popping them threateningly.

"No, listen," said Hex, walking in between the two. "Listen. It's not like that. I'm here of my own free will, sorta."

"Sort of?"

"...do you have a reason for breaking onto my ship?" asked X.

"Good question, actually," said Hex, looking over his shoulder to look at X and back at Chrys. "Why the hell are you here?"

"Oh, you know why I'm here already," said Chrys, starting to spin his nunchucks absently around. "We're going home."

#sfgg #writing #answered #des' tag

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heyhihellowhatsup0 · 2 years ago

Text

Project Freak Part Two - Eddie Munson x Reader (Enemies to Lovers)

Warnings: Angsty af…and smut (oral, female receiving) 18+ Only. (Do not interact if under 18)

Summary: You’re partnered up with the person you’d never be caught dead with. But the more you work alongside Eddie, the tension continues to build amongst eachother.

A/N: Thank you guys so much for your kind words about the first part! I hope enjoy the second part and lmk if I should keep this bs up or not lmao...Also I found the .gif on Pinterest so if anyone knows who made it DM me so I can give credit!

Eddie’s campaign went to absolute shit at Hellfire the next day. He wasn’t in the right headspace and made most of it up as he went which never worked in his favor. Henderson read him like an open book and because of that, he was able to get passed Eddie for every curveball he tried to throw. His head just wasn’t in the game and he hated knowing where it was instead of Hellfire.

Reminding himself of you grinding on his lap the other night, begging for him to make you feel good would have never been on Eddie’s bingo card. But now that it happened, he couldn’t stop thinking about it. How pretty you looked when you moaned his name and how badly he wanted to hear the sounds you made when you reached that high. He found himself wanting to be the one to give that to you. And he couldn’t understand for the life of him why.

You were insufferable. The mean cheerleader who acted like Eddie never even existed. If Eddie wasn’t partnered with you, he wanted absolutely nothing to do with you. He meant every word he said to you but the odd thing was he still wanted you now. Maybe it was because he wanted something he knew he’d never have. But then again, Eddie did have his hand in between your legs. So he did have you for a moment.

Normally when Eddie hooked up with a cheerleader it was because they had a motive. They wanted to sleep with an older guy or they wanted drugs and attention. They never bragged to their friends about them being with Eddie, he was their secret.

But Eddie would never sell you drugs simply because he didn’t like you and you knew that. And he heard about your fling with Steve Harrington last summer so you’d been with older guys to brag about. Eddie certainly wasn’t going to give you any type of attention because he knew you got plenty from all the other guys. But a part of him was interested in the idea of your little friends finding out you were begging Eddie to make you cum. He knew you would have a heart attack if that information ever got loose.

After packing everything up after Hellfire was dismissed, Eddie headed towards his van and stopped when he saw you leaning up against it. He nearly bursted out laughing as he got closer. The look on your face looked both annoyed and excited to see him at the same time which went straight to Eddie’s ego when he walked up to you, pulling his keys out of his back pocket and slid them into the back to stow away his things.

“What do I owe the pleasure, princess?” Eddie didn’t even look at you as he piled the van back up with each box. Grunting while he finished and slammed the doors shut with a smirk, “Because I know you aren’t here for a social call,” he didn’t know you well, but he knew you didn’t care enough about Eddie to just stop by. Why would you?

“You can tell me what the hell that was the other night?” you snapped at him with a hand on your hip. You knew you had no right to get angry with him but nobody had ever just led you on like that and left you unfinished. Why should Eddie Munson be the one to get that say? “Is that something you do to get off?!” you raised your voice now that nobody else was here.

Eddie stared at you blankly and hopped into the driver’s seat unbothered, “Actually, I go down on girls to get off,” he answered with a snarky grin. Pivoting himself to face you as he looked down on you from the van with a mocking pout, “Is that why you’re here because you’re mad I didn’t give you what you wanted?” You were too easy to tease. Especially now that Eddie saw how irritated you were getting when he pushed your buttons.

“I didn’t fucking want that, perv,” you scoffed and folded your arms in front of your chest. You weren’t going to give Eddie any satisfaction. Even though you knew you came here specifically looking for Eddie. And you knew that you were looking for Eddie because of what had happened. You weren’t going to be that easy though, “We need to discuss our project, freak,” you huffed.

“Okay, let's talk about the project then,” Eddie smiled a shit-eating grin knowing he had you at a checkmate. And he loved knowing that he got under your skin this much, “Clearly you came here with some idea, right?” he played it off to humor you but he saw it written all over your face and he was so close to laughing right in it. You pressed your lips together with another huffy breath, “Y-yeah…my idea for our project was,” shit, you thought to yourself as you quickly tried to think on your feet. You weren’t going to let Eddie think he had one over on you, “I think we need to get to the library over the weekend and do some research,” was the best you came up with.

“That is…very informative and helpful. I can certainly see why none of that could wait until class on Monday,” his voice was so dry and sarcastic it made your eyes roll. Eddie cleared his throat, adjusting his rings carefully while he eyed you up and down, “Now that we’re done thinking I’m stupid, why are you really here?” he tried again.

You chewed on the inside of your cheeks anxiously as you saw Eddie’s eyes travel down to your legs. This was a stupid idea and you knew you should have never come here. You didn’t even fully understand why it was on your mind to find Eddie today. You were pissed off and something kept nagging you to ask him what the hell his problem was. Besides the both of you hating each other's guts.

Eddie continued to stare and you knew he wasn’t going to budge until you spoke. Tensing your jaw you glared at him and sighed, “You were…mean to me the other night, Eddie,” you knew it sounded ridiculous the moment it came out of your mouth.

“Moi? Was mean…to you?” Eddie dramatically placed his hand against his chest with an exasperated tone. He had to admit he knew he was giving you a harder time than usual but then again, you did deserve it, “I wonder why,” his tone went flat as he realized this conversation wasn’t going anywhere but another argument, “Unless this is about the project, then I’m out of here, Y/N,” he slipped the key in the ignition.

“Sure…go find another girl to start something you can’t finish,” you waved him off unphased. He wanted you to beg for him to stick around and if he thought that was happening, he had another thing coming. You adjusted your cheer skirt and called his bluff the moment his eyes went to your ass. He could try and play the game but you knew how to win. You always did. But then again, you never played with Eddie before.

“Oh, I can finish it just fine, sweetheart. I just have no interest in finishing you…” Eddie saw your smirk switch to a frown before he laughed at your reaction. It really was too easy getting to you, “I don’t take demands from cheerleaders,” he added.

Eddie started his van and slammed the door shut when you backed away, He wasn’t that much of a dick where he’d ever want to hurt anybody. And as tempted as he was to do as he said and finish what he started, he didn’t want to give you what you wanted. At least not right away. But…it was…intriguing to say the least knowing that you wanted him suddenly. Almost as intriguing when Eddie refused to admit he wanted you in return.

“Hawkins Library. Tomorrow afternoon,” Eddie announced through the window as he looked at you. Eddie wasn’t one for games. But he was one for making sure people get what they deserve. You were a nasty, spoiled brat towards Eddie and he was going to make sure you knew that. “You can wear the cheer outfit if you want,” he winked teasingly, knowing it would piss you off.

You rolled your eyes and flipped Eddie off as he began to reverse out of the parking lot, “In your fucking dreams, freak,” you fought back when you realized you were never going to share any sort of common ground with Eddie “The Freak” Munson.

Eddie was already in the library when you entered. You hesitated a moment and kept your distance while you saw him studying near the fantasy section. His nose was in his notebook, writing things down furiously and clicking his pen while he was lost in thought. You had been in this library so many times and never once saw Eddie in here. But maybe you weren’t really looking for him either.

You gripped your books and hugged them against your chest as you walked towards him. The library was empty today since it was a Saturday and nobody ever came here on the weekends. You walked passed the children’s section and approached Eddie, plopping your stack of books down on the table with an obnoxious thud knowing nobody would shush you today.

“You’re late, sweetheart,” Eddie’s eyes didn’t even leave his notebook and continued to take his notes. Research was never really his thing but since it was a project based on the Renaissance, he found it interesting and cool. So he actually was able to teach himself a few things and even get some ideas for his next campaign. Who knew school was useful for something?

Taking a seat beside Eddie, you pulled out a pen from your bag and opened your notebook, “You just said ‘afternoon,’ you never specified a time,” you reminded him dryly before you snatched one of the textbooks from his stack. He really loved to annoy you and you were beginning to loathe him even more if that were possible, “Sorry for having a life,” you threw in his face.

Eddie cackled as he grabbed a highlighter and colored a few paragraphs he thought were useful. “If you want to call sucking Jason’s dick and getting nothing in return a life then more power to you,” a part of him was bothered by the fact that you spent all your time with Jason. The guy was a fucking prick who didn’t care about anybody. Eddie didn’t have to know you to know that, “Tell me princess, does he know you used to live in a trailer park?” he raised an eyebrow at you.

“No. And nobody ever will,” you answered simply. It was none of his concern but you didn’t want that trailer park defining your life. You had nothing but terrible memories from when you lived there. You were forced to move there with your dad after your parents divorced and you hated every moment of it.

It wasn’t that long ago but you already blocked out most of it. You remembered bits and pieces of Eddie being next door and that he or his uncle never bothered you. You actually recalled his Uncle Wayne being a really sweet guy and would hand out caramel lollipops for Halloween. But not even those small decent memories could make up for the years of feeling like the bottom of the barrel.

And you were sick and tired of Eddie judging you for wanting a better life than that. You saw how he mocked you for being a cheerleader and becoming popular. How was that fair? “It wouldn’t hurt you to actually do normal things for once, you know. I’m not a bad person because I’m a cheerleader,” you continued.

“No. You’re a bad person for thinking you’re better than me,” Eddie snapped as he passed you the section he had just highlighted, “Give that a look and let me know what you think,” he came here for school, not you. At least, he was telling himself that but the truth was he normally would have said this could’ve waited until Monday.

“I…I never said I was better than you, Munson,” you ignored his request and glared at him. Why did he have to push your buttons?

Eddie shook his head with a dry laugh, “You don’t need to. It’s written all over your face every time you speak to me or someone considered ‘below’ you. You may be pretty, but you’re also a real pain in the ass, you know,” his chair was turned towards you while he waited for you to read what he noted for the project.

“I’m a pain in the ass? That’s real good. Aren’t you the one who causes a scene at lunch every other day?” you gave him a knowing look as your eyes read though the yellow-highlighted sentences. This was actually good. Eddie was a lot smarter than you thought but you weren’t going to give him any sort of praise.

“Cause a scene? I stick up for my friends when they get picked on by...” Eddie began to do a small drumroll on the table with his palms, “You guessed it! Your fucking boyfriend! So you honestly want to say that I’m causing a sc-”

“Jason is not my fucking boyfriend,” you seethed through your teeth. You may have fooled around with Jason but it meant nothing to you. In fact, you couldn’t stand him half the time. Whenever you were around Jason, he treated you like an object. He had zero respect for you or any woman. “God! You’re so…presumptuous, Eddie. You really think you know me?” He had not a damn clue about the real you and you weren’t going to try and show him. It wasn’t worth it.

Eddie oddly felt a small hint of relief when you said Jason and you weren’t dating. And it felt even odder when he realized the two of you had been making eye contact for about three whole minutes now, “Must it be a blowout every time we speak? Can’t we just work on the project, Y/N?” He didn't want to go in circles. The two of you were way too stubborn to take a knee and just let things go.

“Fine,” you grabbed a piece of paper from your notes and brought it to the center. Your eyes still on Eddie’s, feeling his soft, chocolate brown buttons look at you as if they were trying to find you. You didn’t want to look away.

Swallowing thickly, Eddie took a breath as he grabbed the paper and his fingers brushed against yours. An electric current surged through his body the moment he made contact and he could tell you felt that too. His eyes remained locked on yours and he was a bit relieved that neither one of you decided to say anything because if you had, he probably wouldn’t have grabbed you and kissed you.

Eddie wasn’t sure what came over him, but something did. Maybe it was the night at his place or all of these weird pent up ideas and feelings towards you that had been resurfacing these last few days. He would never tell you the truth that he used to have a crush on you, not when you were hating his guts. So for now, he took his opportunity and when you didn’t pull away it made it almost worth it.

Without breaking the kiss, Eddie pulled you up from your seat and led you towards the back of the library in between two abandoned aisles. He backed you up against the bookshelf and leaned you up against it while his lips rolled over yours hungrily. His hands slid down to your waist while his tongue found yours, massaging them together as you moaned against his mouth which made his cock harden.

“Still wondering about me finishing what I start, sweetheart?” Eddie mumbled against your lips while his fingers slid underneath your plaid skirt. It wasn’t a cheerleader uniform, but you looked amazing in it. He knew you would look incredible in anything but he wasn’t about to inflame your ego.

“Still think I’m a pain in the ass?” you countered with a gasp when he pressed his thumb against your underwear, finding your clit with such ease. You really hated how good he was at that and how much it made you crave him.

Eddie brought his lips to your ear and dragged his teeth against your earlobe while he pulled your underwear to the side, “You are always a pain in the ass, Y/N,” Eddie let out a breathy laugh as he kissed you again before he slid two fingers into you, “But just be quiet for once? I’m trying to make you cum…” he spoke about it like it was nonchalant. But truthfully, he’d been thinking about making you feel good since that night.

Your breath hitched while Eddie pumped his fingers in and out of you. Watching while he got down on his knees and placed one of your legs over his shoulder. His pupils were blown with lust as his tongue traced along your inner thigh. You had no idea why this came over you but you wanted Eddie to take care of you right now.

Bringing his tongue to your core, Eddie placed it flat against your clit. Wrapping his lips around the already very sensitive bud as he sucked harshly on it and inserted a third finger into you. You were soaking wet for him, which only made him harder. He wanted to be inside you so badly but right now he wanted to see what he could do to you with just mouth. Because he had a strong feeling most men couldn’t do that for you.

“Tell me, Princess, how many guys have given you an orgasm before?” He licked a stripe against your clit before he circled it with his thumb, “My guess is zero,” he teased before he moaned right up against your core.

You cussed under your breath and gripped onto Eddie's curls for some relief. “S-shut up…” you could barely form a sentence from the way Eddie was making you feel. “Why do you care, freak?” You managed to get out before you moaned for him again.

“Because the guy you hate is going to make you cum so fucking hard…and you just got wetter from that,” Eddie was actually turned on by the thought himself. Not one guy that you dated was able to do the job? Eddie knew he was going to get you there. Not because he wanted to. Mainly because he wanted you to have the reminder that the Freak of Hawkins High was the one and only guy to give you an orgasm.

Eddie slid his wet, decorated fingers against your lips, watching as you sucked on them. Tasting yourself off his digits, he smirked at you before he slipped them back inside you, “You actually look really hot when you’re horny,” Eddie praised before he sucked on your clit again. Your body writhing from his touch while he tried to keep you still against the bookshelf.

His name fell from your lips like a quiet prayer. Doing your best to keep quiet in the back of the library while Eddie’s tongue went inside of you. Your body was on fire and you were doing everything you could to hold back from begging him to bring you to the edge. The way Eddie’s mouth was on you was nothing you ever experienced and you didn’t want him to stop.

“Fuck…Eddie…” you whimpered as your hips tried to move against his mouth but his hand kept you in place. You yanked on his curls a bit while you bit your lip, “Please…” you knew you were stroking his ego by asking him but you couldn’t hold back anymore.

Eddie didn’t want to leave you like he did the other night. He wanted to see you fall apart. For him. He looked up at you and winked, “Aw, I know baby, I know….show me you can be a good girl then…” He pressed his thumb against your clit and circled it slowly, “Cum for me, sweetheart,” he grinned before he brought his lips to your clit for the final time.

It was all you needed and then you felt the coil inside of you start to snap. You cried Eddie’s name as quietly as you could while you came undone for him. Your body writhed in bliss while he continued to tend to your clit, helping you ride your high out as his fingers pumped in and out of you with your warmth surrounding them.

Kissing your thigh, Eddie calmed you down while you came down from the euphoric bliss he had just put you in. He was hard as a rock but he’d deal with that later. Making his rival cum for him in the back of the library was something he’d think about for….a while. Even if you couldn’t stand each other. He liked being the one to make you fall apart. And he’d do it again if he got another chance.

Eddie helped you get decent before he stood back up, his eyes meeting yours. It was as if you were hesitant, like you wanted to kiss him or return the favor. You stood there silent, watching while Eddie fixed your skirt back into place and gave you a grin that made your heart swell for a moment.

“You’re welcome, Princess,” Eddie tucked a strand of hair behind your ear and laughed at your nonexistent words, “Wow. If going down on you was going to leave you so speechless I should’ve done that ages ago,” he added cheekily.

“It never happened,” you quickly fought back and pointed at him. You didn’t know if Eddie was the type to go around to people and brag about his conquests but you weren’t going to take that chance. “Never. Got it?”

Rolling his eyes, Eddie pursed his lips, “You’re a piece of work, you know that?” He breathed out a laugh as he waited for his cock to ease up a bit. He ran his palm over his face with a sigh, “I won’t tell a soul,” he saw the hesitance in your eyes and raised his hand as if he were taking an oath, “I promise, okay?” He tried once more.

You actually felt guilty when you saw the look on his face. It was like he’d been in a position like that before where he was told he needed to be a secret. There was certainly a lot more to Eddie than what met the eye and you figured he’d never peel those layers back for you. But you did wonder if he got hurt in the past by another girl and if so, who?

If you didn’t know any better, you almost felt something about Eddie.

Straightening your shirt you nodded shyly, “Thanks,” you whispered as you smoothed your hair out while Eddie led you back towards your things. You felt his eyes on you as you walked towards the table but quickly turned to him and cleared your throat, “I didn't mean it like…I mean, I’m sure if your friends found out about me they’d probably give you shit,” you stumbled all over your words as if you were now nervous to even speak to Eddie.

“My friends aren’t like yours…not that I have many,” he shrugged. His eyes went down your body and back towards your face with another shrug, “And you really think they’d be giving me shit for getting a fucking cheerleader saying my name in the back of the library?” he almost couldn’t believe he said that to your face.

“Why are you saying nice things to me?” you asked, curious yet suspicious.

Eddie shook his head. Did you enjoy being stubborn that much that you couldn’t accept any sort of kindness from him?

“I’ll let you in on a secret, princess…” he leaned closer to her, smiling a bit when you mirrored his actions and also leaned in. “…you don’t always have to be such a brat when someone is nice to you. Especially if they’re the only guy who could make you cum.”

You huffed but couldn’t help thinking that you wanted to be with Eddie like that again…but also learn more about what was in that freak head of his. “Maybe you don’t have to be a know-it-all all the time,” you shrugged innocently as you picked up your books. You had a feeling after the events that had just taken place that neither one of you were going to get any work done.

“That does it,” Eddie shook his head and marched over towards you and grabbed you by the wrist, “Get in my van, princess,” it was a demand that almost came out like a growl while the two of you headed outside.

“What the fuck? For what?” You pulled your hand out of his grip and stopped in the middle of the parking lot. Whipping your head around to glare at him while you kept your books clutched by your chest. “My parents taught me not to get in creepy vans with freaks,” you retaliated.

“You have such a smart mouth…it’s almost like you want to be punished,” Eddie answered in your ear as he unlocked the van, “And I’ll fuck that brattiness right out of you if it’s the last think I do, sweetheart. Do you want to keep playing?” his tone was even yet the way he was speaking to you felt like nothing you had heard before.

Breathing out a laugh, you scoffed at Eddie and gave him a look, “I’m waiting…”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut

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elwenyere · 2 years ago

Text

Best Laid Plans (Codywan, 566w, Kiss Bingo Fill)

A quick fill for the @codywankissbingo! I used my free space to write a “kiss for good luck.” Rating is G, no warnings apply, everyone lives and nobody dies. The card is below the cut for the incredible mods. Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoy!!!

--------

“Okay, Commander,” Obi-Wan said, bending his head over the data that Cody had pulled up on his pad, “walk me through it.”

“I’ve analyzed the most recent schematics,” Cody began, “and you’ll notice the floor plan here is considerably larger than what our troops are used to.”

“Ah yes, and we have a limited window before we’re due back on base,” Obi-Wan concurred.

“Which means these aisles here -” He enlarged them on the map. “- are going to present a potential distraction for some of the younger officers.”

“We have gotten bogged down in that territory before.” Obi-Wan stroked his beard thoughtfully.

“A tough challenge under the time constraints, but not insurmountable. I think if we spread out our forces along these lines -”

“- yes, that’s just what I was thinking. Better to risk redundancy -”

“- than to leave critical ground uncovered,” Cody agreed, tapping quickly on his data pad to distribute the orders to their tactical teams.

“As always, I am never so confident as when I’m in your capable hands, my dear,” Obi-Wan assured him. “Now about the exfil strategy -”

He broke off at the sound of Rex clearing his throat delicately behind them.

“I, uh, hate to interrupt -”

“- but ohhhhh my small gods,” Ahsoka finished for him. “Can we just get the groceries already? I’m starving, and we still have to make the whole meal when we get back.”

Obi-Wan looked over, projecting battlefield calm at her just to see her roll her eyes. She was draped over the back of the grocery cart, keeping it steady as Luke pretended to pilot the metal craft from the front basket. She seemed to have left Leia-wrangling to Rex, who was providing what appeared to be a heavily directed bantha-back ride around the displays at the front of the store.

“A well-prepared team is a team that gets to enjoy a delicious sourfry later,” Cody said, his voice betraying no hint of the amusement that Obi-Wan could feel rolling through him in warm waves. “Because no one forgot to buy the bone broth this time.”

“Never going to live that down, am I?” Rex sighed.

“I’m giving you an opportunity to do better, soldier,” Cody offered, easily dodging the answering shove from Rex, who had been thrown off balance by Leia making a grab for a packet of dried jogan fruit.

“I’m going now!” Ahsoka announced, pushing Luke and the cart determinedly toward the produce section.

“We have one standard hour,” Obi-Wan called after her. “And don’t forget to be mindful -”

“- of the lists,” she finished with him. “Yes, I know, Master!”

“We’re going to end up with some highly unsanctioned sweets in that cart,” Obi-Wan reflected to Cody as their teams peeled off to begin canvassing the aisles.

“Well, you know what they say,” Cody observed. “The best laid plans are absolutely no match for us.”

Obi-Wan smiled, and then leaned in to brush a kiss across Cody’s lips, lingering for a moment when Cody wrapped his free hand around Obi-Wan’s waist, pulled him close.

“For good luck?” Cody asked mildly. “Thought you didn’t believe in it.”

Obi-Wan’s first answer was forestalled by a crash over his shoulder, a hastily yelled “sorry!” and what sounded suspiciously like a cascade of ice pops hitting the floor.

“Yes, well, in this particular case,” Obi-Wan replied, dipping in to kiss his partner again, “better take one more for good measure.”

--------

#codywan #codywan kiss bingo 2022 #some fluff for your monday if you need that sort of thing #every day i come on here and i fight with the tags #my fics

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disturbedbydesign · 3 years ago

Text

Goodbye, Earl

Pairing: soft!dark!Lee Bodecker x Reader

Word Count: 5.6K

Summary: You thought you'd left Knockemstiff behind you, but when your best friend needs saving and has no one else to turn to, you return to town to take care of business. But can you get out of town before Sheriff Bodecker catches up with you? Because he's got some unfinished business of his own.

Warnings: Dubcon if you squint (power imbalance/manipulation, quid pro quo), explicit sex (oral m/f, vaginal), unprotected sex (wrap it up, kids!), interrogation, domestic violence, gun violence, minor character death, breeding.

A/N: BINGO! Written for @writing-in-the-dark-bingo challenge (card at the end). Inspired by Sheriff Daddy Lee Bodecker being an absolute dirtbag and also because sometimes "Goodbye, Earl" comes on in the car and you just want to go out and kill a man.

If you prefer to read on AO3, you can do so here.

The only thing you want to do after your double shift at the diner is take a long, hot bath. Hours and hours of the local men playing grab-ass at you and leaving you shitty tips had put you in an ornery mood. You almost don’t pick up the phone, but somehow you can feel her anguish screaming through the line. You and Jenny had been the best of friends since you were itty bitty babies back in Knockemstiff and had developed an almost psychic bond over the years. You know it’s Jenny, and you know something is very, very wrong for her to be calling damn near midnight on a Tuesday.

You’ve never heard her so afraid, and she doesn’t even have to say why. Of course it’s Earl. It’s always Earl.

You’d told her not to marry him, but she was 18 and just as stupid as all 18-year-old girls are when a cute guy is involved. “Why don’t y’all just wait awhile longer,” you’d told her. “If he’s the right one, he’ll stick around.” But Jenny was determined.

You had always wanted to get the hell out of Knockemstiff, but Jenny just wanted to settle down and have a bunch of babies like her mama did. The handsome and charming captain of the football team seemed like a dream come true to her—truly the best Knockemstiff had to offer (which, of course, isn’t saying much). Besides, she’d already lost her virginity to him. To Jenny, that was a form of marriage on its own.

Earl wasn’t always a piece of shit, but it didn’t take long for him to turn once he’d locked her down for good. She was pregnant by the time he graduated from the police academy and had three babies by the time he got promoted to deputy. You weren’t sure how long he’d been beating on her exactly but you had your suspicions—she kept herself good and pregnant for years, so your guess is that he wouldn’t lay hands while she was carrying his children. Otherwise, all bets were off.

You can hear her newborn screaming bloody murder in the background as she recounts the latest incident for you. Earl came home from work, drunk as a skunk as usual, and what with the new baby and the other three little ones running around the house, she’d burned his dinner. And Earl was hungry. So Earl got mad. And when Earl gets mad, Jenny gets the belt.

Only tonight, it wasn’t the belt. Tonight, it was the brass knuckles.

“I thought he was gonna kill me this time, I swear it. I can’t take much more of this.”

“Grab those babies and get in the goddamn car and get up here. You can stay with me until we get you sorted.”

“He’s never gonna let me go,” she whimpers. “He’ll kill me before he lets me take his babies away from him.”

You feel the anger coursing through your veins and roiling your stomach—the same old anger you feel every time she calls you beaten down and bawling over a man who’d never deserved her. You want to help her, to free her from this demon she married, but you know there isn’t much to be done. She can’t call the law—Earl is the law—and nobody else is gonna help her.

“I’m comin down there. Tonight. You think he’s comin home, or is he stayin with…”

You trail off because you didn’t mean to mention her, but it ain’t much of a secret—everybody knows Earl’s been steppin out on her for years.

“He ain’t comin home,” she said, her voice filled with a sad resignation.

“Hold tight,” you tell her. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

You drive as fast as you can but it’s near 3am by the time you pull onto the dirt road down to Jenny’s house. When you get close enough, your headlights illuminate the flashers on top of Earl’s cruiser and you slam on the brakes.

“Shit.”

You cut your lights and back up as silently as you can, knowing it’d be bad for everyone if you’re spotted. Earl would know exactly why you were there, and he wouldn’t like it at all, and Jenny’d be the one to pay for it. You park your car and cut the engine a good distance from the house, but you can still see it. The house is dark except for the porch light and all’s quiet except the shrieking insects and the sound of your own heart beating.

You sit for awhile, waiting for something to happen—a baby crying, a woman’s scream piercing the quiet summer night—but all is as it should be. At least it is on the outside; God knows what’s going on inside that house in the dark.

You have to make a choice. You could leave for your momma’s house, make up some excuse as to why in the hell you’re showing up in the middle of the night unannounced, and figure out a plan in the light of day. Or, you could take action now, while you still have enough nerve and violent anger to stay the course. You pull your daddy’s old .38 out of the glove compartment and walk quietly up to the house.

You take out the porch light with one shot, then run around the side of the house to wait. You see the lights go on and hear the baby start wailing; you hear Jenny’s voice trying to calm the older ones and Earl’s deep voice booming, “Y’all stay put.” The screen door shrieks open on its rusted hinges and Earl’s heavy footsteps hit the porch wood. You break the side window with the butt of the revolver and hide behind the old oak tree.

Earl rounds the corner, flashlight and gun up, sweeping the perimeter. “I don’t know who the hell you are,” he calls into the night, “but you’re makin a big mistake.”

You step out from behind the tree. “I don’t think I am,” you say, and then you put one right between his eyes.

Daddy always said a girl should learn how to shoot. He’d meant deer and coyotes and the occasional bear, of course, but you’d always known there was far more dangerous game.

*****

Lee is still drunk when he wakes up, tangled in his sheets and drenched in sweat. It isn’t even 7am and it’s already hot as hell, and he knows the fans at the station will be no match for the sweltering humidity of mid-August in Knockemstiff. That, coupled with the hangover soon to set in, is about to make for a nightmare of a day.

He makes himself throw up before groaning his way through a cold shower. His first cup of coffee does nothing for him, but the second one starts to clear his fuzzy head. He’s gonna be late, again, but he’s the goddamn sheriff and he does what he pleases.

When he walks into the station, he sees that he isn’t the only one who’s tardy.

“Where’s Earl at?”

“He ain’t come in yet, Sheriff,” one of the new recruits replies.

Lee chuckles. “Probably lost track of time with that girl of his again. Y’all let me know when he gets here.”

Lee closes the door to his office and sits down behind his desk, leaning back and putting his hat over his eyes. As far as he’s concerned, it’s already nap time. He gets a fitful rest until a loud knock on the door puts an end to his attempts at sleeping it off.

“Come in,” he croaks.

“Hey, Sheriff,” the recruit says sheepishly. “It’s past noon and Earl still ain’t here. I called his house and Jenny said he left last night around dinner and never came home.”

Lee has a bad feeling. Earl would occasionally come in late when he slept out with the mistress, or after an especially nasty fight with the wife, but he was always at his desk by lunchtime. If he wasn’t in by now and hadn’t called, something was very wrong.

“I’ll handle it,” Lee tells him. “You go on and get back to work.”

“Yes, sir.”

Lee had been reluctant to bring Earl in on his action, but they’d been friends since high school and were at the academy together; Lee thought he could be trusted. Besides, Earl already knew what he was up to, and it was in Lee’s best interest to dirty him up, too. But now Lee can’t help but wonder if Earl got himself in deeper than he knew—if he had some side action that had backfired. Lee hates to even think it but it wouldn’t necessarily be a bad thing for Earl to disappear. He’d been getting greedy lately, being more reckless—borderline unhinged at times. He was becoming a liability. But still, Lee needs to know exactly what’s going on, if only to cover his own ass.

Lee decides to start with the girlfriend. He knows what went unspoken when Jenny’d said Earl “left around dinner” and besides, he thinks Earl’s girl might know more than his wife would. But she doesn’t know a thing. She’d been reluctant to admit to it—poor thing still runnin around thinkin everybody in town don’t already know she’s the other woman—but eventually she’d said that Earl had come over around 8 and left sometime in the wee hours. And she’s too stupid to lie. She’s a pretty thing, and sexy as hell, but she’s dumb as a box of rocks. She’d seemed worried, though, which led Lee to believe she was as deep in the dark as he was.

He sets off to Earl’s house to talk to poor Jenny. Jenny was always a nervous little thing, and Lee knows why—Earl wasn’t always the nicest man, but what happens between a man and his wife is no one else’s concern. Today, though, she’s especially jittery as she tries to pour his coffee and keeps missing the cup.

“I got it, sweetheart,” Lee says, taking the pot from her trembling hands. “You just sit down and tell me what you know, alright?”

Lee had seen Jenny bruised up before, and she’d always tried to cover up with cosmetics and scarves and such, but it was never enough. That day she hadn’t even bothered. Would’ve been pointless to try. She has a split lip and a gash on her cheek that probably could use a stitch or two, and the whole right side of her face is well on its way to black-and-blue.

“Earl do that?” Lee asks, but of course he knows.

She nods. “He was blind drunk last night, didn’t know what he was doin. He said he was sorry but I-”

“You what, sweetheart?”

“I kicked him out. Told him I didn’t want him around the children actin all crazy like he was. That was around 7 last night and he ain’t been home since.”

“You got any idea where he woulda gone to?”

Jenny stares daggers at Lee. “I think you know very well where he woulda gone, Sheriff Bodecker.”

Lee gives her a sympathetic smile. “Alright, then. Is there anything else you wanna tell me, Jenny? Anything at all?”

“No, Sheriff,” she says. “Nothing out of the ordinary. It ain’t like this is the first time Earl run off.”

“You mind if I have a look around?” Lee asks, but it’s not a question.

“Have at it,” she replies. “I have to go feed the baby so just holler if you need somethin.”

Lee may be a drunk and a louse and a crook, but he’s good at his job. He had clocked the broken porch light and what looked like a bullet hole before he even walked through the door. The broken window is boarded up but the ground outside it is freshly disturbed—like someone had been tilling the soil. Something happened here, but he knows in his gut that Jenny didn’t do it. He’s known her for years, they all came up together—she just doesn’t have it in her. She would have let Earl beat her to death before she fought back.

She may not have done it herself, but she knows more than she’s saying. With all them kids and Earl on her back all the time, she wouldn’t have the time for a man on the side to take care of her problem—so who then? Lee decides to lay off her for a spell, keep an eye on her, wait and see what she does next.

He’s headed down the highway towards Meade later that morning when it all comes together. Bent over under the hood of the car, long legs and ass on display in those tight little capri pants, he doesn’t even need to see your face to know that it’s you.

Of course it was you.

*****

With Jenny’s help, you’d managed to get Earl wrapped up in a tarp and into the trunk of his cruiser. She’d followed you in your car as you drove out to the quarry lake dumping ground to send the cruiser down to the deep with Earl entombed inside. She’d had to leave the kids alone (except the baby, of course), but there was no way around it—they were old enough to talk even if they didn’t understand, and they couldn’t see this. She’d cried quietly the whole time, though you didn’t know what the hell she was crying about. If it were you, you’d have felt relief—joy even—to be rid of that awful man. But you and Jenny were not the same, never had been.

You’d dropped Jenny off at home and told her to say Earl never came home when the police inevitably showed up. That’s as far as your plan went, though. You’d tried to clean up and cover up best you could. You’d made sure there was no evidence that Jenny helped you get rid of him, and she wasn’t the one who killed him anyhow—that was all you. Now you just had to disappear and pray that God was truly merciful.

Your car had other ideas, though, and when you break down on the side of the road outside of town, you know you have to fix it yourself, and quickly, or hitch back to Columbus. Daddy made sure you knew your way around an automobile, but this is looking like a bigger problem than you have the tools, parts, or skills to solve. You’re about to give up when you hear him.

“Hey, there, buttercup. Car trouble?”

There’s only one person on God’s green earth who calls you that, and he’s the last person in the world you want to see.

Lee pulls his cruiser in front of your car and parks, and your stomach starts to churn. Your mind is racing, trying to concoct the right series of lies as he swaggers towards you, his thumbs hooked around his belt. When he reaches you, he tips his hat.

“Been a long time, Lee. Or should I call you Sheriff now?”

“You can call me anything you like, buttercup.” Lee licks his lower lip and looks at you like you’re a homecooked meal. “You’re looking absolutely lovely, if I might say so.”

“Thank you kindly,” you say, still struggling to come up with something.

“Your momma didn’t say you were in town. Saw her at the grocer’s yesterday.”

“Well, you know, she’s gettin old. And she never much liked you sniffin around me anyway.” You give him your most flirtatious smile, and it isn’t difficult to do. Lee is still a handsome man, even if he’d gone a bit soft around the edges over the years.

“Now, you and I both know you weren’t visitin your momma. Come on, buttercup. I always could tell when you were lyin to me.”

“I- I’m not-”

“Think you’d better come with me on down to the station. Don’t make this harder than it needs to be.”

Lee puts his hand on the small of your back to guide you to the cruiser and it sends shivers through your whole body. He doesn’t cuff you, though; he knows you won’t try to run from him—not this time.

*****

He’d tried not to think about you all these years, but it was pointless; Lee’s mind always came back to you—especially on the loneliest nights when he was feeling particularly sorry for himself and wanted to relive the best and most hopeful days of his life: senior year of high school when you’d finally let him do all the things he’d wanted to do since the first day he met you. You were his first everything—well, except kissing. Lee had chased a lot of girls and gotten to first base with a few, but none of them ever held a candle to you. None since had, either. He always knew you were going to leave Knockemstiff, but that didn’t make it any easier when you actually did.

In Lee’s lovesick teenage mind, he thought he could get you to stay if he loved you hard enough and fucked you good enough. Jenny and Earl were fixin to get married; he could convince you to do the same. But you were nothing like Jenny—you never were, you never could be. So now Lee finds himself locking eyes with you in the rearview mirror as you sit in the backseat of his cruiser, and he knows two things: you absolutely killed Earl and he is absolutely still in love with you.

He pulls around back of the station so no one will see you and lets you out of the backseat. “Don’t you run on me, now,” he says, but he knows you won’t.

The look on your face is hard but resigned. You know you’re caught, but he can tell you aren’t one bit sorry for what you’d done. He admires you for it, if he’s honest—that fiercely protective nature, that fire in your belly that never could let sleeping dogs lie. You always did have the guts to do things others wouldn’t dare.

He walks next to you, his arm in yours, guiding you past the officers and deputies—some of whom know you, some of whom do not—into the interrogation room. He pulls out the chair for you and you plop down in it with a pissed-off look on your face. It’s one Lee knows well, and he’s missed it.

“Can I get you anything before we start?” Lee asks.

“A cigarette,” you reply. “I know you have some. I saw you put em in your back pocket when you got out of the car.”

“You checkin out my ass, buttercup?”

“Might have been,” you say, and you give him that bright sunshine smile he still sees in his dreams sometimes.

Lee has a decision to make. He could do things by the book, or he could do things that serve his purposes. Earl being gone was not a bad thing for him, and it was certainly not a bad thing for poor Jenny. Solving this crime benefits no one, but it’ll hurt you. And Lee doesn’t want to hurt you—it’s the last thing on earth he wants to do. You put one of his Marlboros between your pretty lips and he lights it for you, and by the time the smoke hits his nostrils, he’s made a decision: he’s gonna let you make the decision.

“So,” he asks, “are you gonna tell me the truth?”

“Do you really want to know it?”

For a second, Lee gets lost in that familiar spark of hellfire in your eyes and the mischievous quirk of your lip. You always could get him hard with just a glance; some things never change, he supposes.

Lee chuckles. “I already know it, buttercup. I just need to know if you’re gonna say it or if you’re gonna make me work for it.”

You take a long drag and exhale, blowing the smoke out of the side of your mouth, away from him. “I’m not tellin you shit, Lee. I want a lawyer.”

“Now don’t go and do that. We can settle this just you and me. Maybe we can work a little somethin out makes sense for the both of us.”

You look at him, your pretty eyes scanning him to make sure he’s saying what you think he’s saying. But you know him, deep in your marrow, and you know that nothing is beneath him—not when it comes to you.

“What do you want from me, Sheriff?”

“You know exactly what I want,” he says, his voice husky.

You laugh and it sounds like music. “You’re a real sick fuck. I ain’t gonna marry you, Lee.”

“I ain’t askin for that,” he says, “although I would if I thought there was a snowball’s chance in hell you’d say yes. No, I’m askin for something less… permanent.”

You raise a perfectly penciled eyebrow and take a drag of your smoke. “You’re serious? Here?”

“Deadly serious. You give me what I want—right here, right now—and I’ll let you go. You never have to see me again if you don’t want to.”

You stub your cigarette out on the table and cross your arms with a wicked grin. “Alright, Sheriff. It’s a deal. And you don’t have to tell me what you want. I remember.”

*****

All things considered, this is one of the better outcomes. You always did have fun with Lee, and you’re still attracted to him, even if he is an absolute scoundrel and a pig. It’s been years but you still know how to get Lee going, how to make him hard with a single look. You knew even before he made his indecent proposal that he was palming himself under the table.

You figure, fuck it—there are much worse ways to get away with murder.

You round the table and get on your knees in front of him, licking your lips as you rub him through his trousers. He’s already a whimpering mess by the time you get his pants down and take him out.

“You know what to do with it, buttercup. Come on now.”

You grab the base, your fingers barely fitting around his girth, and you smile up at him. “Forgot what a big boy you are, Sheriff.”

“No you didn’t,” he says, and you giggle because he’s right. Lee Bodecker’s cock is not something one simply forgets.

You put the tip in your mouth and tickle the slit with your tongue, tasting the salty bit already leaking out. You lick along the vein that runs from the base to the tip and he groans. You have to admit—you miss that sound. Lee always did make the prettiest noises, and just the sound of him sets you throbbing down below.

You start slow, the way you know he likes, massaging just the first few inches with your tongue and your lips while you stroke the rest of him, getting his cock nice and wet. When he puts his hands in your hair and starts to jerk his hips, you flatten your tongue and open your jaw and take more.

“Goddamn baby, I missed this pretty mouth.”

You moan your approval onto his flesh as you continue to work him deeper until he hits the deepest part of your mouth and you start to gag. You keep going, though, because you know he can’t get enough of the sound of you choking on his cock (and you’re certainly not getting away with any half measures today).

You place your hands on his thick thighs and take him deep—not all the way, you never could manage that, but deep enough to satisfy him. You let him fuck your throat for a while, massaging his balls the way he likes, knowing it won’t be long before he’s desperate to get inside you. That’s what he really wants, after all. It’s all he’s ever wanted.

He pulls out of your throat with a loud pop and you gasp for air. “Need to taste you, buttercup.”

He pulls you to your feet and kisses you, deep and hungry, and you let him have free rein of your mouth and your body as his hands roam up and down and around you. He moans into the kiss when he gets his hands on your breasts under your blouse, and you break away to take your shirt off.

He licks his lips as he stares at your bare chest. “No brassiere, eh? You one of them bra-burnin hippies now?”

“I did burn it,” you say, “but only cause it had ol’ boy’s brains all over it.”

He laughs and grabs your face. “You’re goin to hell, you know that, right?”

“See you there, Sheriff.”

He kisses you again, hard and quick, before flipping you around and pushing you flat against the metal table. He yanks your pants down to the ground and you step out of your flats and spread your legs wide for him.

“Christ, that’s pretty.” You hear him drop to his knees behind you, feel him squeeze your ass cheeks and spread them wide before licking you from bottom to top. “Mmmm, so sweet.”

Lee isn’t the only man you’ve ever been with, but he is the most enthusiastic when it comes to pleasuring you. The sounds coming out of him as he devours you are sinful and animal and you try to hold it in but you can’t—it’s too good, he’s too good.

“I missed this, baby. Feels so good. God, Lee, don’t stop don’t-”

You gasp and grab the edge of the table when you feel him start to tongue your tight ring, and he sticks two fingers deep inside you and starts to pump them slowly. You bring one leg up on the table so he can get deeper, and when he crooks his fingers just so, you start to lose control. You clench around his fingers and you feel the timbre of his voice against your slick flesh.

“Come on, buttercup. Get it nice and juicy for me.”

His thumb finds your clit, and he remembers what to do with it, and it isn’t long before you’re cursing and crying out his name—far too loud given the circumstances, but you don’t care and he doesn’t care, either.

“Scream as loud as you want, baby. I’m the goddamn sheriff of this town and ain’t nobody gonna tell me where I can fuck and where I can’t.”

You feel him run his tip across your slick and you’re aching to have him inside you. He pushes in real slow and you both moan deep at the reunion as you take all of him. He leans down and you can feel his soft belly against your back as he whispers in your ear, “Tight as the day I popped your cherry,” and then he starts to move.

You were both virgins the first time you had sex, but it hadn’t taken long for you to learn each other’s bodies. Lee had always been so eager to please you, always asking what you wanted, what you liked, what felt good. You can tell he remembers every bit of it as he fucks you exactly the way you like to be fucked—slow, deep strokes at first, so your body can adjust to him, then harder and faster. He gives your ass a few hard smacks and you clench around him with each one, and when you reach back and put your hands on your cheeks to spread wider for him, he places his hands on top of yours.

His pace is so rough and relentless that the table under you starts lurching forward with every thrust, making an ear-piercing scraping sound. He pulls you up by the arms and turns you around, putting one hand on the back of your neck and one on your ass and pulling you in for a kiss. He sits down in the chair and pats his thighs.

“Hop on, buttercup. Wanna see your pretty face while I fuck ya.”

You straddle him and position him at your entrance before sliding down the length of him, and he throws his head back and grabs your hips.

“Ride it, baby. You know how I like it.”

And you do, so you grip the wooden chair back and start to bounce on him. Your knees are aching from the exertion but the pleasure outweighs the pain. He brings his hands from your hips to your breasts and sucks them into his mouth one by one, back and forth between them over and over as you fuck yourself on him.

“So good, Lee. So good.”

You throw your head back and slow it down a bit, sitting on him and circling your hips so he hits all the right spots deep inside you. His belly bulge is giving just enough friction that you don’t even need his fingers on you and you decide that you like him better this way—a little rounder, a little softer. You start to feel another wave of pleasure coming on and you roll your hips faster. He knows what that means, so he wraps his arms around your back and holds you still and tight against his body before he starts to snap his hips beneath you.

“You like that, huh? You miss this? Feels good, don’t it?”

“God, yes, Lee. Harder.”

He obliges, and soon you’ve got your hands in his hair and you’re panting in his ear like a bitch in heat. When he feels you start to pulse around him, he takes a big ol’ bite out of your shoulder and growls and it sends you over the edge. You start to gush around him and he grabs the back of your neck and pulls your face to his.

“That’s it, buttercup. There you go. That’s my girl.”

You can’t form words anymore so you just stare into his steel-blue eyes with your mouth open wide, letting out whatever sounds your body decides to make. He drags your bottom lip between his teeth slowly as you come down, and then he kisses you deep, his hands on your hips, moving your body exactly how he wants you to move.

You know he’s close so you lick a stripe up his neck to that spot behind his ear that makes him go absolutely feral, and when you take his earlobe between your teeth, he makes that sound that he makes and you know he’s right there.

“Oh, baby. Oh, fuck. I’m gonna fill you all the way up.”

Your head snaps up and you look at him and he’s got his tongue hanging out and you know that face.

“Lee, wait. You can’t-”

You try to push off him but he’s got you in a vise grip. “Uh uh, buttercup. I’m puttin it in your belly.”

Before you can fight it, you feel him shooting deep inside you and you clench around him, your body betraying your mind as you milk every last drop from him. You’d never let him do it inside you before—it was always in your mouth or on your tummy or your chest. He always wanted to, though, and he certainly chose his moment wisely.

“Goddammit, Lee.”

“Sorry, baby. Jus felt too goddamn good not to.”

You sigh and look down at him, and with his pink lips and flushed cheeks and blissed-out blue eyes, he looks like he did the first time—when you were both just kids crazy in love with each other. You want to be mad, but you can’t—not when he’s looking at you like that.

“I hate you,” you say, but you know your face is telling a different tale.

“Nah, you don’t. I’ll let you pretend, though.”

He stays inside you, holding you close, but you don’t fight it.

“Stay with me, buttercup” he whispers, and it sounds exactly like it did all those years ago. Your answer is the same, though.

“You know I can’t stay here, Lee.”

“Just a few days, til we can get your car fixed up. Besides, it makes for a better story—you comin for a few days’ visit instead of poppin up for a few hours when Earl just so happens to disappear off the face of the earth.”

You sigh. “I don’t know.”

“Yes you do. Where’d you dump ol’ boy anyway? Not that I’m goin lookin for him. He’s better off dead to me anyhow.”

You smile. “I took him to our old spot,” you say, “down the quarry.” Lee cocks an eyebrow at you. “What can I say? I was feelin sentimental.”

He laughs, deep and hearty. “Well alright then. So you’ll stay?”

“Yeah,” you say, “but just until the car’s fixed. I should go see momma anyways. But I ain’t stayin at your place.”

“Yes,” he says, “you are.”

*****

That night, Lee gets you settled in at his house. He cooks you dinner. He makes sweet love to you—so sweet that you let him pump you full of his seed again even though you tell him not to. He’s determined to love you even harder and fuck you even better than he ever did before. This time, things will be different; this time, he’s not going to let you go. Because Lee has got you now—he knows what you done and how you done it—and he’s gonna put a baby in you whether you like it or not.

No, this time you’re not gonna leave him. You can’t. You’re home now.

#lee bodecker x reader #lee bodecker fanfiction #lee bodecker smut #lee bodecker x you #lee bodecker #the devil all the time #sebastian stan #dark!lee bodecker #goodbye earl #sheriff lee bodecker

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faithinlouisfuture · 3 years ago

Note

Hello Emmy!!! Quick! Favorite moment or moments from the EU/UK leg?!

Pics and gifs are very much appreciated! 😌

Criss!!! You know me better than to say quick, you know how I love my rambles and my insanely longwinded posts, there’s no such thing as quick around here 🤓

So without further ado, here we go! In this essay I will … ✍🏽 Seriously though, top five here we go!

- The fact that Louis fully embraced the devil in his brain that brings out the demon in him and started to jump to barricade every single night during KMM. This is both a favorite moment and prime content for my tag set #light of my life #bane of my existence (and before someone @s me, I’ve been referring to Louis that way LONG before Anthony ever said it to Kate, if anything he stole it from me!). I mean, look at this!

gifs courtesy @silverfoxlou

The jumping and getting back up there in itself is enough, but then there’s the mad moments of insane jealousy that come from other people getting to touch him - the collective breakdown all of solo louie tumblr had over this! 🫠

- The entire Amsterdam concert! Where do I even begin?!? He walked out on stage in MESH! Looking like this 🥵

The crowd was electric! There were real actual balloons for KMM and condom balloons for I don’t even know what song 😂 The crowd got to scream “I went to Amsterdam without and all I could do was think about you!” at him! How special is that?!? The projects from that show were great too, and the bands energy was also amazing and Louis seemed to be having a total blast!

- The entire Milan show! The fact that it was the largest audience he was playing to yet, the way that he walked out in that England jersey asking to be mocked, but stuck to his guns, mad man! The crowd was the best yet in my opinion (for the entirety of LTWT22) they were loud, they told him he was beautiful every chance they got 🥲 he had a such a great time and enjoyed the fan projects! The overall energy of the entire show was just great! My little Pepsi bottle had a blast 🤍

- The brain melting, heart stopping, tear inducing, moment™ he decided to spring Change/s.mp3 on us the first time in Łódź !!! The dash went mad, the group chat went mad, the crowd went mad, all of louie twitter went mad and he just sang it like an angel and moved on without even acknowledging it. It was the definition of the louie experience; never knowing what to expect (at least for me). I couldn’t concentrate on anything at all after that. My soul re-entered my body around KMM time I think, before that I was just 🧍🏽‍♀️🧍🏽‍♀️🧍🏽‍♀️

- The entire Doncaster show! He was on another level, you could literally see him radiating light and happiness through the screen, I don’t even know how people who saw him in real life survived with their eyesight & sanity intact! If he was a Pokémon he would have levelled up the minute he stepped out on that stage 🤍 So many of the songs/lyrics meant SO MUCH more just because of the fact that he was singing them in his home town, where his journey began. It was everything that I wanted the Donny show to be for him, without any extra theatrics or anything at all. The crew joining him on stage 🥲 just all of it! It was a beautiful beautiful way to end the European leg! (The fact that he had the audacity to play Hey there Delilah at the end 😭 - literally ended me).

Special mentions;

- Every time a new IGTV would drop and all of us freaked out over it together, watching multiple times, gif making immediately, meme making immediately. The energy would always be great on IGTV release days! Especially the one that had the Berlin behind the scenes 100% game content in it.

- Reykjavik shirtless hot springs content 😭😂 absolutely nobody had seeing half naked wet Louis surrounded by half naked wet men in their LTWT22 bingo card, NO ONE. Yet here we are. The reason this is not in my top five moments is that I missed it 😭 like I wasn’t able to be on here or on twitter when it happened, and I had to do post freak out posts which are never as much fun, lol.

#I could literally go on and on 😭#but I think I’ll leave at that for now #the European leg over all felt a lot more genuine and fun than the US/Canadian leg #the overall production of the shows was also so much grander (the screens/ the pyro/ the streamers/ the lighting)#all that being said #i cannot wait for the #LATAM leg #I’m sure it’ll knock everything else right out the part #top 5 moments #(5 is an understatement)#emmy rambles #as usual #whats new #criss ✨#thank you for asking me!!! 🤍#park *

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strawberryamanita · 2 years ago

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so my good friend @wispy-fox and i were talking about a School Teacher AU for the Ipliers last night, and i loved the ideas we came up with so much that i wanted to share them with the rest of y’all! below the cut is a paraphrased summary of what we came up with; any last-minute ideas i come up with as i write this post will be added(in parentheses). feel free to add your own ideas to the pile, if you’d like!

Wilford: either the principal or just an event-coordinator, i don’t believe we came to a definitive conclusion. someone’s gotta run this show, and Wil seemed like the man for the job to me!

(if Wil is just an event-coordinator, then the principal would most likely be Kathryn. if Wil is principal, Kathryn would probably be the superintendent)

Dark: a very grim, very no-nonsense History teacher. they get into the deep stuff if you ask them about it, even if it’s not on the syllabus. they’d also teach French as an elective, which is much less severe

Wil frequently crashes Dark’s class, which the kids love because it minimizes the boredom they’d probably be suffocating under

they’re tooooootally not dating /s

Dark would also play piano accompaniment at certain assemblies, but it would hugely depend on who’s leading the chorus. if it’s Yancy, sure; if it’s Mark (The Actor), absoLUTEly not

Actor Mark is a Drama teacher. just thinking about that idea made me think of my highschool Drama teacher -- which is fitting, because i hated her too lmfao

Yancy would be a Chorus/Dance teacher

Bim would be an Economics teacher, but he’d be obsessed with playing little games to review lessons through -- like how teachers will make their own Bingo cards or Jeopardy! boards to learn with

Illinois would be a Science teacher (i just said “science” for some reason? i’m not entirely sure which science) who insists on going on school trips beyond the school’s budget

Google would be a Computer Science teacher, and he and his brothers hold WILD robotics tournaments at the end of the semester.

Dr. Iplier is the school nurse, but he taught a Health class for a short while (was probably let go because of his pessimistic outlook and eagerness to get as real as possible with his lessons)

Harold B. Darrensworth would either be assistant principal or a substitute teacher that’s often antagonized by his students

Goopiplier would be an Art teacher, and Eric would be his TA. the students love Eric as a TA, and they often give him drawings or little sculptures of animals as gifts :)

the Jims are Film teachers and heads of the A/V Club

Ludwig von Bawlincrusher would be the regular Gym teacher, and Captain Magnum would be the swim coach

The Host would be the school’s librarian, and he teaches Radio Communications after school. nobody knows how he’s so good at keeping track of his books despite his blindness -- nor can they figure out how he can always tell when someone’s making a face at him

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dapandapod · 2 years ago

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Domesticity

Hi there! Last one for today, I promies! Because this is the final one of my fluff prompts, this one from card 4, for @thepassifloradiscord team bingo! The prompt this time was Domesticity, which I hope I managed.... Please enjoy some soft boys!

On Ao3 here

Say what you want about the friendship between the witcher and his bard. They have had their ups and downs (interestingly enough their downs have been on ups, think mountains) but so has everyone.

So what if Jaskier’s best friend replacement was a few mice. So what if Geralt only can process one emotion at the time. They are working on it.

Point is, they have spent a lot of time together, on the road and in small spaces.

They know how to be around each other. They have habits and patterns and annoying quirks that they probably should talk about for the sake of peace have chosen to deal with in passive aggressive silence.

Nobody’s perfect.

Even worse now, as they are camping out in a small cabin in the woods for the sake of a contract, and for a really huge fucking downpour that just doesn’t let up. The cabin is made of two rooms, the main room with a smaller cooking corner and a bedroom. Of course there is only one bed, and before they came to terms with that this weather is going to keep them inside for a while, they took turns on the floor.

It wasn’t too bad to begin with, meaning, it wasn’t too bad when Geralt had the floor and Jaskier slept on the bed, but as soon as that changed, Jaskier thought better of it.

“Maybe we should share.” He had proposed, and that was that. It only took them three hours to figure out how to share without making it awkward.

Meaning, it took them three hours to get used to the thought of being incredibly awkward and either deal with the other’s stinky feet in their face, or their butts touching.

Or spooning.

They are on day four on their camping out, and their first shared night in bed. Jaskier wakes up warm and comfortable, way better than the stupid floor. His eyes remain closed, and he feels snug and warm, warmer than he has been in a while. It’s nice.

Doesn’t smell that nice though, he thinks, as he dives deeper under the covers, and realizes his nose is touching something. Someone.

Someone who stinks of sweat and horse and onion, who’s bare skin is touching his nose, judging by the texture also a certain amount of chest hair.

Fuck.

That also explains the weight thrown over his side, and why his right arm is asleep. Geralt and Jaskier have snuggled together during the night, and Jaskier now is awake to deal with the consequences. Remember that One-Emotion-At-The-Time thing? Yeah.

It seems like the witcher isn’t awake yet though, judging by how Jaskier is still allowed close. It is warm and comfortable, and very hard to do extract himself like he probably should.

The rain is still beating against the roof, and even if the blanket is a little scratchy it is still very nice and warm. His eyelids are heavy, and he only allows himself another minute or two or possibly three until he finally sighs and wriggles free.

No matter how he longs to stay, it will be easier for them both. Maybe one day, he muses, might he be allowed to stay. One day.

Carefully he stands up from the bed, tucking the blanket closer around Geralt, who immediately grabs one of the pillows to hold. It is terribly cute, and Jaskier hides his smile behind his hand as he stands up and starts looking for his socks.

They can't have gotten far.

It is still early, the light slightly gray still through the small windows along the cabins far wall. The rooms are still neat and tidy, the years of being on the road together making them put their things in order for the next day, despite Jaskier's best effort.

Had Jaskier been on his lonesome, it would absolutely have been more than a sock lost in corners, piles on chairs, stacks on the floor. You know. Poet style.

Problem with the cabin being neat, however, is that now Jaskier doesn't have anything to do. He obviously can't go outside, or well, he can, but he won't, let Geralt take care of his horse, wherever she is, but Jaskier won't go outside. He got nothing to clean, it is still just a little too dark to sketch or write, and if he picks up his lute, Geralt will wake up.

It might be too early for creation, yes, but is it too early for food? Never.

There is not much in the cabin, barely plates for two and a fork each, and their own rations are thinning out, but there is enough for it to give him something to chew on. The fire has burned low, but it doesn't take much to get it going again and putting a little pot of water on top of it.

There is this new herbal blend that Jaskier has meant to try that he found in Novigrad but didn't have the time to enjoy yet.

He hums under his breath as he puts the herbs in the now boiling water, a little melody he has been working on that just can’t seem to leave him. It smells heavenly, and when he turns to find cups or .. bowls or anything to drink it from, he startles when he finds Geralt leaning in the doorway, looking at him.

His arms are crossed over his bare chest, hair untied and unruly, side of his head leaning against the wall. Geralt is smiling at him. Softly.

It leaves Jaskier a little tongue tied for a moment. Geralt doesn't just... look at him like that. At Roach, absolutely, and even Ciri sometimes, when she has done something exceptionally cute. But him?

"Ah... Good morning?" Jaskier says, suddenly realizing he is only wearing one sock and Geralt's stolen tunic.

"Morning." Geralt agrees, not moving nor changing his expression.

"Hope I didn't wake you up." Jaskier asks self-consciously, not sure if he wants Geralt to know how they ended up cuddling or not.

"It's alright." Geralt says, not in the least confirming or denying the knowledge of gentle embraces. Well then. "You look very at home." he remarks.

"I'm making tea. It is our temporary home. It is only logical." Jaskier reasons, feeling his face heat up. As if it is something to be embarrassed about, but look, the way Geralt is looking at him right now is doing things to his heart, ok?

"I don't see the logic with just one sock, though." Geralt says, straightening and joining Jaskier in the little cooking corner, picking up the cups that Jaskier failed to find.

"Me neither, but tell that to my other sock. It seems to have become sentient and ran off to a better life." Jaskier sniffs, adding forks and a spoon the the little breakfast ensamble on the table, and hands Geralt the small towel they use when the pot is hot.

As soon as the tea is poured they settle down to eat. The table is so small their knees bump together, but it doesn't matter much. Or shouldn't, but Jaskier is feeling many, many things right now, so there is that.

He takes his escape in rambling about how the rain is restricting him, how Geralt actually go out in the rain with a soap, now that he thinks about it, because he needs a bath, where Roach could possibly be right now, the wonders of a warm drink, and finally the loss of his sock.

Geralt just smiles at him in that fond way, it seems like that is the one emotion he can process right now, and it keeps Jaskier's ramble going.

When they finish eating, Geralt does indeed go out to find Roach to check on her, and Jaskier is left to his own devices again. It is finally enough light now to pick up the book he has been reading, and he throws himself back into bed to read.

The witcher comes back some time later, Jaskier doesn't look up, but he can hear Geralt undress again and put his clothes in front of the fire to dry. He doesn't look up when he hears the steps approaching, but he gasps loudly when Geralt joins him in the bed, using his back as a pillow.

"Your hair is ice cold!!" Jaskier complains, but does nothing to dislodge him.

"Hmm." is Geralt's only reply, his eyes closed and therefore immune to Jaskier's glaring. The bard turns a page with a huff and starts reading it aloud. It is a thing they do, and he knows Geralt already read this book anyway.

They almost get through a chapter before Jaskier's eyelids get heavy. Next he knows, he has turned on his side and Geralt has somehow made his way up in front of him and they are holding each other again.

It is endearing, how Geralt's arms are around him again. How safe Jaskier feels listening to those ridiculous snores of his, the snuffle-whistle combination that Geralt denies to his dying breath.

Maybe the rain isn't so bad after all. Maybe they could do this again sometime, Jaskier thinks, noting that Geralt seems indeed to have brought the soap out into the rain, and that he only smells warm now. Safe. Home.

Geralt shifts in his sleep, and then dry lips press against Jaskier's forehead. Jaskier closes his eyes, holding every emotion that is trying to leap out so tight. He sucks in a quiet breath and holds it, everything focused on those lips pressed against him.

Then Geralt's hand moves, flattening against his back, pulling him closer.

"Sorry, did I wake you?" Geralt murmurs.

Say what you want about the friendship between the witcher and his bard. They are not perfect. They have their ups and downs.

But in a cabin, while hiding from the pouring rain, they are working on it. One sleepy hug at the time.

#geraskier #geralt x jaskier #fluff #domesticity #dont tell anyone but i am just copypasting that word around #i will never be able to spell that #the witcher #hopeful ending #they love each other tho #it is just slow going #dapanda writes #rain #cuddling #bed sharing #sharing clothes #just friends all around #oh and some tea

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rafaelblackbird15 · 3 years ago

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Teen Wolf Fic Recs Part 4: Sterek

These are Sterek, Stiles Stilinski/Derek Hale fanfictions.

I really love these. They are some of my favourite Sterek stories, and ALL of these are absolutely beautiful. Without a doubt. Send the authors some love, because that's what they've given me and us right here. :)

If there is a problem with any of the links, let me know and I will fix them.

For appropriate reading check the hashtags on the actual fics.

I hope you enjoy these as much as I did.

And check out my other Steter fic recs [Part 1] and [Part 2] and Sterek fic recs [Part 3]

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God Brings The Wounded by CallieB on Archive of Our Own

Words: 4938

Chapters: 1/1

Summary:

“Jesus,” Stiles says, when he sees Derek for the first time, and feels his face do that thing where it tries to smile. Derek, or the weirdly fresh-faced teenage version of Derek that he is now, doesn’t flinch at Stiles’ exclamation.

He’s too busy flinching at everything else.

Requested by the lovely nohomohomie, who asked for something angsty post-nogitsune.

Has got to be one of my favourite canon teenage/de-aged Derek fics, with beautiful, angsty Sterek, of course.

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You're Not You by CallieB on Archive of Our Own

Words: 5266

Chapters: 1/1

Part 9 of the Sterek Bingo 2017 series

Summary:

Stiles lifts his head slowly, meeting Derek’s gaze. His eyes… they’re always clever, bright, perceptive, but today there’s something in them that Derek doesn’t recognise. He’s pale, but not defeated. He looks stronger than Derek expected. And unexpectedly, he feels it flash through him in a bolt of absolute, though surprised, certainty.

That's not Stiles.

Written for the Dark!Stiles square on my Sterek Bingo card.

This story is possibly one of the best EVER Void!Stiles stories I have ever read. The idea is complex and fascinating and unique. After I read this for the first time I was left stunned and I kept coming back to it in my mind as well as to read because I couldn't get over the idea. It's beautiful.

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Yeah, Pass The Salt, Stiles by CallieB on Archive of Our Own

Words: 3609

Chapters: 1/1

Summary:

Yeah, pass the salt, Stiles.

They're not particularly inspiring words. Not like the long stream of goo spilling over Scotty's arm. But somewhere, Stiles' soulmate is out there, waiting to say them to him.

If only he could stop thinking about the mysterious hot stranger he met in the woods...

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Author: CallieB

This author has 15 Teen Wolf works, most if not all are Sterek. Some of them in particular really hit somewhere special.

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Behind Locked Doors by isthatbloodonhisshirt (wasterella) on Archive of Our Own

Words: 11128

Chapters: 1/1

Summary:

Derek often showed up in his room—at least he used the fucking door now that he knew where the spare key was hidden—and he couldn’t escape people in general in the Jeep since they could see him through the window. His dad was home, and when he wasn’t, there was always the risk of other people showing up.

His bathroom, on the other hand? No, his bathroom was a small room with no window in the middle of the house with a lockable door and no judgement. He could sit in the bathroom for hours, and no one would question it. Was he watching porn on his phone and jerking off? Was he taking a massive dump? Did he have constipation? Was he stitching up the millionth injury of the month in private? Who knew? No one but Stiles!

The locked door at his back felt like a safety net for him sometimes. In the bathroom, he didn’t have to pretend. He didn’t have to smile and wave people’s words off, insist he was fine, laugh and act like everything was okay. In the bathroom, he was allowed to sit on the floor, his expression tight, and his body falling apart on him.

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Author: isthatbloodonhisshirt (wasterella)

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Should Have Looked on Craigslist by Akiruchan on Archive of Our Own

Words: 27217

Chapters: 1/1

Summary:

Derek is rash and self-sacrificing, everything that will one day get him killed. Stiles doesn't want that. He's become too accustomed to a life with Derek Hale in it. To live without, well, it just doesn't seem to be an option.

or...

The five times Stiles' expectations fall short, and the one time he's glad they do.

This is an incredible, slow burn, build of the winding relationship between Stiles and Derek and the world they now live in, side by side. It's wonderful and blessedly long.

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Bless You by Ankiruchan on Archive of Our Own

Words: 3070

Chapters: 1/1

Summary:

It all started with a sneeze...

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Lend Me Your Eyes, Give Me Your Heart by Ankiruchan on Archive of Our Own

Words: 3057

Chapters: 1/1

Summary:

Stiles’ life sucks. He’s honest enough with himself to admit to at least that. More often than not he spends his free time running for his life, saving people from creatures who want to rip his face off, and all around having a distinct lack of self-preservation. It sort of comes with the territory. Not something he can avoid when his circle of friends happen to be werewolves.

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Nobody's Fault But Mine by Akiruchan on Archive of Our Own

Words: 26552

Chapters: 4/?

Summary:

Stiles has always been good at ignoring his problems. Preferring to wait them out until they are nothing but a distant memory. But when a midnight stroll leads to a nasty scratch to Stiles side, courtesy of Derek, Stiles finds that some things just can't be ignored, not that he doesn't try. Better hearing and improved eyesight, that is something he can ignore for now. The sudden urge to touch and smell Derek all the time? Not so much.

This is werewolf!Stiles, and it's one the of the laid back, kind, intense versions that I enjoy very much. Unfortunately, I think it's been discontinued, but I believe even so, these 4 chapters are worth the little heartbreak that comes with the knowledge it may not be finished.

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Author: Akiruchan

This author is responsible for some of the best slow build Sterek stories I've read.

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Lock All The Doors Behind You by entanglednow on Archive of Our Own

Words: 25960

Chapters: 1/1

Summary:

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.

I've come back to this so many times. The relationship is so vulnerable, down to earth and open and kind, extremely kind, which is something Derek really lacks in his life, someone to be kind to him. There's a feeling, somehow, that this is quite natural for them.

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In Case Of Emergency by entanglednow on Archive of Our Own

Words: 1826

Chapters: 1/1

Summary:

Derek falls through Stiles's bedroom window at ten past midnight.

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By Any Other Name by entanglednow on Archive of Our Own

Words: 33090

Chapters: 1/1

Summary:

He doesn't know his name, he doesn't know who he is, and neither does the werewolf he's on the run with. But he's pretty sure they hunt monsters, because they seem to be really good at it.

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I Could Find My Way Back by entanglednow on Archive of Our Own

Words: 6250

Chapters: 1/1

Summary:

What's the worst that could happen?

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Author: entanglednow

This author is responsible for so many amazing fics out there. They have 55 Teen Wolf fics, all with really interesting ideas and takes on the characters and supernatural world.

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You want forgiveness (I'll give that to you) by dearericbittle (dutchmoxie) on Archive of Our Own

Words: 2806

Chapters: 1/1

Summary:

Derek is running from the Alpha, suffering from wolfsbane poisoning and he’s clearly losing it. Why else would he be seeing his mother - and everyone else he might as well have killed himself. But Stiles can’t just let him get what he deserves. Stiles never leaves him behind, even when he should.

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(Fuck you they said) As they threw their threads from their wedding bed by dearericbittle (dutchmoxie) on Archive of Our Own

Words: 96199

Chapters: 9/9

Summary:

First Son Stiles Stilinski just accidentally caused an international incident. And apparently the only way to save human-werewolf relations is to marry him off to Prince Derek of Triskele. Stiles is going to need all of his acting skills to make the marriage look real, because the Prince is kind of a fucking asshole.

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Author: dearericbittle (dutchmoxie)

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fake empire by Poe on Archive of Our Own

Words: 3685

Chapters: 1/1

Summary:

Stiles hadn’t meant for any of this to happen. He was going to tell Derek. The whole truth of it. He was halfway through when the phone rang. A half-finished sentence, left hanging in the air as his life crumbled around him.

(or: Stiles gets so, so lost. But he finds himself again.)

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you all over me by Poe on Archive of Our Own

Words: 3705

Chapters: 1/1

Summary:

The thing about Stiles is, Derek thinks, is that he has no idea how enthralling he truly is. He’s easy to overlook, right up until the point he isn’t, and at some stage, Derek started looking, and now, it’s all he can do.

(or: the one where the pack is happy, healthy and alive, and Stiles and Derek are sort of inevitable)

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Author: Poe

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For If Dreams Die by veritas_st on Archive of Our Own

Words: 24169

Chapters: 8/8

Summary:

“I had a dream about a boy last night,” Mischief says through a mouthful of pancakes. His dad points the spatula at him and he swallows before he says anything else. “His name was Derek. He called me Stiles. I want to be called that from now on.”

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Author: veritas_st

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About Today by rufflefeather on Archive of Our Own

Words: 8901

Chapters: 1/1

Part 1 of the inside these arms series

Summary:

Stiles is having the worst day of his life and it keeps happening.

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Until Tomorrow by rufflefeather on Archive of Our Own

Words: 9016

Chapters: 1/1

Part 2 of the inside these arms series

Summary:

Derek's worst nightmares didn't prepare him for this.

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Let it be me by rufflefeather on Archive of Our Own

Words: 1495

Chapters: 1/1

Summary:

After everything that happened, Stiles goes to see Derek.

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Even the stars they burn by rufflefeather on Archive of Our Own

Words: 5770

Chapters: 1/1

Summary:

Derek finds out quite by accident what makes Stiles shut up. If he reveals along the way that he didn't always carry this darkness around, then that's entirely Stiles' fault.

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Solstice. by rufflefeather on Archive of Our Own

Words: 4119

Chapters: 1/1

Summary:

It's the first total lunar eclipse during winter solstice in three hundred and fifty years and Derek has no idea what's going to happen.

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Author: rufflefeather

This author has some intense, sometimes heartbreakingly endearing, and wonderful Teen Wolf fics.

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Hear The Wheels As They Roll by crossroadswrite on Archive of Our Own

Words: 44919

Chapters: 2/2

Summary:

“You can’t be here. This is private property,” someone calls out and for some reason that voice sounds painfully familiar.

When it hits him why, Stiles almost chokes with the realization, “Derek Hale,” he says, unbelievably happy because he remembers Derek when they were young.

Derek looks grumpier, sadder, angrier. Stiles can’t really fault him for that. He also looks surprised that Stiles knows who he is. He squint/glares suspiciously at him, his nostrils flare for a second before he widens his eyes almost dramatically.

“Stiles,” he says quietly, like he can’t really believe it.

Stiles beams, “Yeah, you remember me!”

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Author: crossroadswrite

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