Svipper
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Stiles stared at Derek without breathing.
At the tiny droplets of crimson hidden in his beard, at his gentle but intense eyes, at his mouth smeared with blood. He felt the taste of it on his tongue.
Derek held his promise.
He would always hold it. There was nothing Stiles could do or say to stop him. This was it. Stiles married him, mated with him for the rest of his life. Derek killed and he would undoubtedly kill again.
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Bookmarked by Svipper
27 Jun 2026
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“Don’t worry, kitten,” he smiled widely at Stiles who now stood with his fingers touching his abused lips. Derek couldn’t wait to feel them wrap around his dick. “I’ll be home soon. Get yourself ready for me.”
The gold on Stiles’ ring finger shined in the streetlights as he nodded. He sucked on his bloody lip — god, Stiles would never realize how much of a tease he was — and folded his arms around himself.
He would wait, Derek knew it. Even if they convicted him or if it took years, Stiles would wait.
He would never lie with another. He would never let anyone close.
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Bookmarked by Svipper
26 Jun 2026
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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 Svipper
26 Jun 2026
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The only consolation was the wolf’s softness toward him. Alpha Hale could have taken him right on this very table in front of everyone and be in his full right to do so, but instead it was just that — his soothing palm on Stiles’ knee, his thumb stroking back and forth, his breath upon Stiles’ ear.
Would he be gentle?
Stiles glanced at him from the corner of his eyes. A scary thought had taken over his mind. Just one little word.
Perhaps.
Bookmarked by Svipper
26 Jun 2026
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A Place of Healing by this_wayward_life
Fandoms: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe
23 Apr 2023
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Steve clears his throat a few times. "Look, uh, Bucky. I want to apologize for my crass behaviour earlier this week. It was... It was rude of me to put you in such a compromising position at your place of employment, and I understand if you do not wish to interact with me any further -"
"Captain Rogers," Bucky interrupts. He's fully grinning now, unable to stop himself. "It's fine, I promise. Everyone says weird stuff under morphine, it's pretty much a law of the universe. Believe me, I didn't find it rude at all."
Steve swallows, averting his eyes as Bucky sets his dinner tray on the table beside the bed. "I just... I didn't want to make you uncomfortable."
Bucky laughs quietly. "Don't worry Captain, you didn't make me uncomfortable. It was sweet."
He doesn't know why he adds that last bit, but it makes Steve's cheeks bloom red again. "Call me Steve. Please."
Steve looks up at him through long, thick eyelashes, and god, Bucky is in danger with this one.
"Steve," Bucky repeats softly. "Don't worry. You were sweet."
--
Bucky never expected to have a patient like Steve Rogers.
Bookmarked by Svipper
12 Mar 2025
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Bookmarker's Notes
This was not what I was looking for, but it ended up being what I read xD It was really cute