A_grief_observed
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“You told me I would have time,” Derek said, simmering with anger. “You promised to leave the choice to me.”
“The court is starting to talk,” said Peter. “We do not have a stellar reputation as it is, and your ventures into the world of simple pleasures do not go unnoticed. You do not care, of course. But you are, pardon me, too loud for it to remain discreet.”
“You think if I were to have a wife, I would stop fucking?”
Peter cringed his nose. “No. It would make you a proper, civilized man. You are getting too old, nephew.”
“Fine. But I’ll choose.”
“No,” Peter smiled. “I shall choose.” Derek opened his mouth to argue, but Peter did not let him. “We both know you will continue to fuck whomever you want. None of us will be able to stop you. Let me have a pick of a proper spouse to placate the court. That’s all I ask.”
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Bookmarked by A_grief_observed
02 Oct 2025
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He held Stiles’ face like it was the most precious thing and licked Stiles’ neck like he owned it. A kiss was the first thing to greet Stiles in the mornings they spent together, and at nights, it was the last thing he felt on his face. Each time was more desperate than the last.
Derek told him he was made to be kissed. It was a reward, a pleasure, a relief.
And then, after all of this, he would disappear. For two days, three, or for a week. Stiles would choke from the thought that this time he definitely ruined it (how? god, how?), and then, in a click of a light, Derek would come back as if he were always there. Calling from a hidden number, cupping his chin, tugging Stiles closer with his hand splayed on his back, so big and insistent. Kissing, loving, refusing to let go.
But only in a closed room, in the darkest corner of a restaurant, in a black sports car with its windows thick and tinted.
Stiles dreaded saying goodbye.
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Bookmarked by A_grief_observed
29 Sep 2025
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Beneath the heavy hand of his father, Dean walks a path carved from shadows. Every word, every command, leaves its mark, shaping the boy into a man he scarcely recognizes.
Bookmarked by A_grief_observed
15 Sep 2025
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The motel room shifted and blurred until its walls were a pure alabaster white, and the mustard curtains and bedspreads turned into gold detailing and trim. The dresser transformed into a long marble table, and the bed into ornate, embroidered chairs.
Behind Dean echoed an all-too-familiar voice. If he stopped to think for even a minute, Dean could have guessed who was behind it all.
“Hello, Dean. What a fascinating scene. I haven't seen something like that since the days of Lot.”
Dean turned around, and there was Zachariah, as stiff and smug as usual. Dean should have known it was angel bullshit. He shouldn't have trusted a thing.
“We needed to keep you out of the way until midnight tonight. I figured you'd enjoy a reunion B-plot a lot more than the alternatives.”
Bookmarked by A_grief_observed
14 Sep 2025
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After a drunken game of truth or dare spirals out of Billy’s control, he can’t deny what he wants. Steve doesn’t want to face his newfound obsession with Billy Hargrove. Tommy’s just here for the drama.
Bookmarked by A_grief_observed
03 Sep 2025