Fiction Recs

Chris/Peter/Stiles
1,724 words

It was the end of his shift, almost midnight, when Chris heard the call over the scanner for a suicide attempt in progress. The code itself sounded more dramatic than it was, for all they knew a driver had spotted a drunk kid on the abandoned bridge and assumed the worst, it wouldn't be the first time, and as concerned as everyone sounded when they called in these kinds of code, they never stuck around to see if the person was okay.

It was fine. It was on his way home. He'd swing by, talk the boy into climbing back over, like he has a handful of people before until he called it a night.

He never expected it to be anything more than that.

Peter/Stiles
17,893 words

Peters neighbor is afraid of needles, and Peter thinks he's just cute enough to terrorize. It sounds darker than it is.

“What is that boy doing?” Peter looked up from his art and glanced at the window. His pretty, pale, neighbor was attempting to cross the street. He wasn't having much luck with his hands covering his eyes. He'd gotten himself stuck in the middle of the road, with cars passing by on either side. Still, he refused to drop his hands.