14 Works by ditheringmind
Listing Works
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But…But then he looks at Derek and gets hot all over, and his already overactive imagination goes into overdrive. Images of a long neck tilted to the side, fluttering eyelashes against golden skin, and full lips parted over a breathy moan.
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Derek has a crick in his neck, a sore spot right at the back where that long tendon meets shoulder. It’s been hurting for days now, and Derek thinks it’s going to become a permanent condition. But the thing is, he knows exactly why he has the crick in his neck. Stiles Stilinski. He is the reason for Derek’s suffering. He is literally a pain in Derek’s neck.
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“Oh, god! Um yeah, clearly you are male I just um, how does this work? Like the baby thing then if you're, ya know a dude?”
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Micheal doesn’t know why Alex is here, he isn’t in his uniform, so it can’t be anything official, and Micheal doesn’t think he can endure being accused of dealing drugs or cooking them, or whatever it is Alex believes he is doing. The first time was enough. It had left him feeling slimy and guilty even though he hadn’t done anything wrong, he had tossed it off like it meant nothing, but it did. It really fucking did.
Series
- Part 2 of Convulsions
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Paul would have never pegged his captain as the overbearing type. But the truth was in the pudding.
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Morning always comes after the darkest night by ditheringmind
Fandoms: 9-1-1: Lone Star (TV 2020)
18 Jan 2022
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Carlos could still hardly believe that everything was gone, just gone. All that he had worked for, every scrap of paper, every picture, every memory he had built in that house was gone. And for what? Retaliation? The sin of the father paid for by the son?
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Jones raises an eyebrow. “ Don't I?” He taunts, “electricity makes you twitch, hum? When Max heals, you have tremors? When Isabel walks in dreams, your eyes roll up, and your body shakes like an earthquake? Am I wrong?”
Series
- Part 1 of Convulsions
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T.k looked straight into Carlos’s eyes, so there was no mistaking his intentions before he kneeled on the cold concrete floor in the dusty supply closet at the fire station and pulled Carlos free from his neatly pressed uniform pants.
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Jesus cracked his eyes open when a woman leaned over him and softly swept cold fingers across his forehead. He pushed into the touch and fought through a fog of emotions and images that flitted through his mind. He knew this beautiful curly-haired woman with creamy skin. Mama, mama, it was there, and he tried to push the beloved word past his lips, but they no longer felt like they belonged to him.
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Stiles watched Derek’s mouth as he spoke, the odd little way his lips would curl around words, Stiles just couldn’t pinpoint what exactly made it unusual, like maybe talking wasn’t entirely natural to him. No, that’s not it, perhaps he was just used to talking around fangs?
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You know what, he will just leave a note. Simple and to the point. (Left, don’t follow, not coming back) and maybe a picture of his eyebrows to hammer his point home.
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Carlos and TK have sex, that's pretty much it.
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Stiles could feel the air leave his lungs when Derek gracefully got up and walked across the room and up the spiral stairs. Wrong, everything was wrong. He was moving too slow. Like he was drifting, being pushed by waves, a force not his own. Something deep inside Stiles gave a pulse; he felt a tingle run through his body, like static cracking through him. He moved to follow Derek with no thought, a magnet pulling him to the older man. He didn’t hear Scott annoyed voice call to him. He didn’t hear Lydia scream. He heard, he heard waves?
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“Hey,” the message says. Just that nothing more. Easily ignored. If it were important, there would be more detail or Derek’s phone would ring. He shoves the anxiety-inducing technology back under his belly. He is exhausted once again, just the possibility of being needed to have to pull himself together, to appear normal. It makes his bones ache