#writing in russian for the first time in forever | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

winterarmyy · 9 months

Text

Welcome Home, Daddy

The aftermath of when Bucky accidentally relapsed into the Winter Soldier.

Summary: Bucky was over the moon when he discovered that Y/N was pregnant with his child. But, when the danger that lurks in dark threatened to steal his family away, a fellow soldier decided to come home.

Note: Highly recommend to read 《 Welcome Home... Soldat? 》 for backstory. But, you can also read this as a stand alone (though you might miss some call backs on the soldat's behaviour if you skip)

Pairing: winter soldier!bucky x female!reader

Words: 7.1k++ (bare with me, please)

Warnings: graphic violence, torture, blood, gore, deaths, dark undertones, sudden fluff, tiny bit of angst, google translated russian, and just so much detained anger exploding around, soldat is just deadly yet adorable in this one (i can't even handle it, and i'm the author), this event takes place far in the future after what happened in 《 Welcome Home...Soldat? 》

A/N: Looks like we have the winner for the poll 👀 Who's ready for our lovely soldat to make his appearance again? I know I'm not, but here we are. So, strap in and let's do this!

P/S: Also, I might as well make this as my submission for the seven writing event hosted by @nickfowlerrr 💌 Check out the event masterlist and support the writers by reading and reblogging their stories!

Read my other works here: Masterlist

They say the wrath of a fighter may threatened a heinous war but the wrath of a lover will let the earth drenched in bloody gore. And if a fool was daft enough to tore a lover from his other half, then they might just court themselves right into the hands of death.

And this couldn't be more true, especially if we consider the crime that the soldat was currently committing. Surely, the blood pooling on the floor will forever leave a grim mark that'll haunt the people who ever witness it.

"Where is she?" the soldat prompted the frail woman, limping on the chained chair. Despite the horrid situation, he sounded rather calm when he spoke.

How unfortunate it was for Elle to be associated with Hydra yet to also be so exposed to the dangers of the ghost himself, the Winter Soldier. Hydra may have their suspicion about the soldat making a move, but she didn't expect that she would be involved in the mess of this ordeal.

The cold metal of the soldat's vibranium fingers, particularly his index and thumb, latched themselves on another one of her nails. Her mouth slacked open but no sound was able to be formed when the soldat mercilessly ripped her nail right off her finger.

And oh, the pain was beyond any kind of injury that she had ever experienced, not a even a bullet through her flesh could be compared to this agony of a torture.

He harshly grabbed Elle by the back of her neck, forcing her to watch the blood leaking from the reddened flesh of her fingers, "I asked you a simple question, су́ка (bitch). Where the fuck is she?" The soldat's patience had been running thin and rage had clouded his judgements.

He needed to find her. His precious Родная (darling).

No matter whose neck he needed to slay or whose blood that have to be shed dry. He had to bring his darling home; no matter what it takes.

Unfortunately, it had been almost a month since he lost her.

And no one saw it coming.

Who would've thought that the old Hydra compound that the team raided were meant to be a part of a plan to weaken the Avengers. It was just a distraction filled with unexpected traps and triggers. By the time they flew home, the team were already tired and injured as the result of the raid.

So imagine the desperate struggle and utter panic that Bucky had to go through the moment he stepped his foot into the comfort of their home and had to witness Y/N's exhausted figure fighting for her life.

Hers and the baby's inside.

After hitting the 2 months mark of pregnancy, Bucky decided that Y/N shouldn't be involved in any high stake mission anymore. At first, she only laughed to his statement, thinking he was surely joking but when his stern expression didn't flatter, that was when she reliazed Bucky was not open for negotiation.

Y/N knew it was way too early to settle into her maternal leave but after having a long conversation with Bucky, they both agreed to keep her missions strictly on low-risk stakeouts and desk works at the tower.

It was supposedly be some kind of a precaution for her, to keep her and the baby safe, away from any type harm that might come their way. But, that certainly back fired.

When Bucky's burning anger had pumped him full with high stream of adrenaline, it was as if he went into an auto pilot; a murderous one at that. And soon enough he managed to take down half of Hydra's best agents that joined the mission of collecting Y/N from the tower.

For a moment, it seemed like luck was on their side, at least it felt like it.

It lasted only until Bucky saw how harsh the kick of the enemy landed on Y/N's hip, and how she managed to shield her stomach seconds before her body slammed down to the ground.

That was when fear crawled into his pumping nerves and the roots of it ran extremely cold.

And that was all it takes for Hydra to distract Bucky then immobilize him on the spot with a replica of the Sonic Taser developed by Stark Industries a few years back.

Bucky grunted painfully in protest of the high pitched sonic frequency from the device that overloads his nervous system. His body couldn't help but to slowly paralyzed its movements as his skin turned pale and the strain in his blood vessels became visible.

On the opposite side, Y/N could be seen being forcefully dragged away by a few of the Hydra agents that was left. There were couple of nasty injuries torn all over her body yet she was still stubborn on fighting back.

While she was being pulled farther away from him, she shouted his name loud and desprete, "Bucky!" Hot tears broke from the corner of her eyes as she desperately reach out her hand.

It felt as if she was right there when Bucky's hand was reaching back towards her. Like, a little bit of a push would've been enough to catch her but alas fate was not planning to be merciful.

Bucky's menancing eyes never left her wavering ones as Hydra tortured Bucky by stealing a part of his soul from him; and no one really knew how his heart clenched and torn to the fact that he was helplessly useless when Y/N needed him the most.

And when he only managed to scream back Y/N's name, he was forced to watch her wailed as she was unwillingly being taken away.

The moment when Bucky drowned himself in regret and rage, that was when the Winter Soldier took over his consciousness.

Unfortunately for the soldat, his mortal body was already worn out from all the intense fight that happened prior; he was knocked out right after he took over the body.

But in those few seconds before the darkness consumed him, the soldat managed to catch a glimpse of his darling. He saw the image of her; teary and bruised in the hands of those who created him. The very same monsters who uses him for despicable things.

That was all that he needed to see in order to break those chains around the dark pandora residing deep within his being.

The team was absolutely not ready to deal with the soldat again, this time without Y/N to tame him. Especially when his demands were unrealistic for them to fulfill.

It's been nearly 3 weeks since the incident and they had failed to locate Y/N; repeatedly. Even if they did manage to get some kind of an intel, all the of bases they had raided were basically bunch of abandoned spaces that Hydra used to occupy.

So of course the soldat was agitated. He had every right to be, more so when he thought of the increasing risk of his darling getting hurt in the hands of Hydra. And at this point, those scumbags were just messing with their minds. Especially with his.

"Listen, we're doing our best here, soldat." Steve tried to reason with him but it only fueled the burning flames within the soldat, "ты делаешь недостаточно! (You're not doing enough!)" He spat harshly that he didn't even noticed that he uses Russian language. It seemed like the unkempt irritation had conquered the chaos of his mind.

So that very night, the soldat decided to do this on his own; thus he ran away from the tower in search for his darling. He had to. Especially when he knew precisely why the Avenger was not able to find Y/N as quickly as they should be.

It was because they were the good guys. They were the heros, they were the light. And the soldat was not. In fact, he was the very opposite.

Unlike the Avengers, the soldat was not planning to play nice and soon enough he managed to find a lead.

Which bring us to this very moment in which he successfully snuck into a Hydra agent's home to interrogate her.

But, in contrast of those Hydra troops that attack the Avengers Tower a few weeks ago, Elle was not even involved in the mission of retrieving Y/N. She was actually on a solo mission to infiltrate a certain high school to collect informations on Peter Parker. Hydra suspected that he might be involved with the new hero appearing in Queens.

However, even if she was not a part of the team mission, she knew bits and pieces of the overall plan, especially the whereabout of the main character herself, Y/N.

However, the appearance of the Winter Soldier in her temporary house was completely unexpected.

It felt like it was just few moments ago that the intel on Y/N's location reached her ears. Then, she distinctly remember the glimpse of those murderous eyes glaring into her soul. Next thing she knew was everything went pitch black.

Even if it was temporary, however it felt so surreal.

The darkness surrounding her.

The bone rattling cold.

It felt like death itself.

But unfortunately for her, the soldat was far from stopping.

Elle was fraying at the edges while the soldat crouch to her level. Even if she could barely reconstruct the unclear and blurry images through her dazed eyes, however, that didn't stop the soldat from maiming the dying woman's soul through his unforgiving gaze.

"Wake up..." he growled as he yanked her face upwards, "...we're not done yet."

It took a while for Elle to finally adjust to the light, after being in the dark for – how she felt like – so long.

After the light hits her vision, the striking pain came next. The pulsing pain surrounding of her right eye, her broken nose, her busted lips, her bleeding skin; neck, chest, arms, and almost every part of her limbs.

Everything were – slowly but surely, in each cuts and bruises on her skin – blooming its pain into existence.

How can she skipped all of this when she lost her consciousness?

Perhaps that was how she managed to stay alive as long as she had. By running away from the misery; from her reality.

Elle whined in pain but her voice suggested that she might already torn her throat apart when it sounded more like a broken grunt. Her disoriented gaze fell into her aching fingers, each were missing its nail; the tips of them was where the icky blood trickled from and had shaped a pool of blood on the floor where she rested.

The dim lighting from the room reflected on the surface of the deep-red puddle, revealing the resemblance of it to a mirror. And the blurry image looking back, was the soldat, with a sinister expression on his face.

This game, that they're playing.

It hardly seems fair to one of them. To be tortured if not speaking the truth? That's simply unjust; but if we're talking about fairness, then none of those injuries could ever be compared to the pain Y/N might be going through at this very moment. Every second of Elle's useless stubbornness was costing Y/N's safety.

And the soldat didn't like that. Not one bit.

"You mentioned Spain? Where exactly?" In one swift, harsh motion, the soldat thrust his knife through her thighs, "FUCK!"

The loud scream of pain that tore from Elle's throat was probably the last coherent word that she uttered as the torture continued.

The soldat pulled the knife out and stabbing it into the open wound, he listened to Elle's gasp for a moment, relishing her breathless pleading and the tears now openly streaming down her face.

He stabbed again, twice, each was quick and deep, not caring about the blood that spurted out across his face.

At this point Elle was just a puddle of blabbering mess; streams of saliva pouring out her mouth, sobbing, gasping for air; mixture of grunts, moans and whispers of curses and pleas were all spouted incoherently.

Anger.

Frustration.

Rage.

Wrath.

Even hatred.

The soldat was feeling it all.

It was consuming him, devouring any sanity that was left of Bucky's moral values. The eerie glint in the soldat eyes suggested that he was not planning to stop until she gave him what he wants.

God, if it wasn't for chilling atmosphere around her, Elle might just mistook that she was actually in hell.

"Pyrenees!" She cried out. The soldat instantly stopped when she confessed. He waited for an answer and right on cue, she spoke again, breathless and almost silent as the fear that engulfed her prior refused to release her from its haunting grip. And truthfully she doubt that it will ever let her go, "T-there a secret base n-near the Irati forest."

She exhaled a shaky breath as she pleaded, "S-so please. Please stop this." The was tired of the pain and the numbness that came after. And the soldat knows it.

The room was left silent momentarily, as if he was actually considering her plea but alas he already had plans for her all along, "Shame. You should've killed yourself before I came here."

As he finished the last word, the soldat viciously plunged his knife deep into her neck, digging the sharpness of it through the delicate flesh until it reach the base of the blade.

Elle gasped in response, her hands scrabbling around in effort to break free, to stop all of this. But considering the situation she was in, there was nothing she could do about it other than to take it as it was given to her.

When the motion finally stopped, the soldat simply walked away from the scene as if it was a complete norm for him to behave as he was. He didn't even thought of cleaning the mess he left behind. Or hide the corpse somewhere.

Isn't he afraid that he might leave his tracks for the police to find?

Why would he?

This has been his life for decades on end. His sole purpose of living was to kill. So best believe that the authorities will never be able to link the soldat or Bucky to this crime.

Not today, not ever.

Through the days that Y/N was locked deep within Hydra's base, she hadn't been treated the worst. In fact, the sick and twisted agents and residents in the facility was more than willing to care for her.

This was all because they wanted her baby.

It was always sickening to hear them referring her child as merely a tool for their success. And the way they worship Y/N like she was a gift from God to fulfill their purpose, was beyond insanity.

"Oh, to have the privilage of bearing the offspring of the Winter Soldier. To be able to create the perfect weapon, unlike the father. It is just honorable."

It made her stomach churned with pure disgust whenever she heard those types of comments floating around her.

Besides the eerily digusting behaviour of the agents, there was also the regular check-ups and the lab tests that she needed to attend. Out of all the things she had to endure these past few weeks, the medical check-up has always dreaded her the most.

There was this constant debate within her troubled mind; of the possibility of Hydra manipulating her baby's health and genes by inserting unknown substance into her.

"Come on, mama. On the bed." The doctor said as he patted his rubber gloved hand on the surface of the rigid single bed.

She always found it vile that the people here calling her by that nickname. It tickled her throat in a way that she wanted to puke all the tasteless gunk that they had fed her with.

As she laid on the bed and let the process went on as it usually do, the doctor suddenly stopped everything that he was doing. At first she was weirded out by the irregular act of the man, but when she felt the vibration on the ground and the rushing footsteps from the floor above her, she knew exactly why the doctor suddenly froze on his spot.

And the emergency siren that shortly blared after, had only confirmed her speculation.

But mostly, it was the panic in the doctor's eyes that gave him away; then when Y/N noticed the man scrambled to search the drawers from one of the cabinet, she knew that he was up to no good.

The second that the doctor's hurried his steps towards her with a syringe in his hand, Y/N's body immediately recoiled. She quickly stopped him by grabbing his wrist and twisted it back until the syringe dropped from his hold.

The man cursed under his breath and decided to take her by force when he grabbed a handful of her hair, almost dragging her out of the bed. Y/N shrieked painfully while her hands blindly grabbing the silver tray by the bed next to her.

She then slammed it hard against his head, and watched the contents on the tray fell and scatter onto her. She took quick skim over all the tools and saw a potential weapon for her defence; a scissor.

"Stay still, mama. Or the baby will get hurt." The doctor foolishly threatened.

Maybe it was her defence mechanism or maybe it was just her motherly instinct kicking in but something just snapped inside of her when he said those words. There was this incredibly strong urge to either fight or take flight.

Of course she could easily slipped away and make a run for it but she just couldn't risk it. Especially when her baby's life was currently at stake. So, after a short moment of hesitation, she swiftly grabbed the scissors and surge it through his ribs. The man wailed in pain as he staggered off the bed and fell onto the floor.

You'd thought a single yet firm stab through the guts was enough to quench Y/N's need of fighting back but no. Apparently, the haywire of her nerves had drove her feral and she needed him to be soulless by the time she walk out the room.

That had forced her to nearly jumped on him like a predator pinning on a meek prey and the lack of struggling on the victim's side had only gave her full control to dominate him.

Then all of the sudden, the doctor felt another strike of the pain, digging into the flesh of his chest.

He woefully cried in extreme pain while Y/N did not utter a single word or let out any sound, she stayed silent as she thrusts the scissor in and out his flesh.

Each surge was vicious than the previous. Each stab was gradually speeding up as the motion increases it's number of repetition.

She completely let her emotions took over her sanity.

Until what's left in the room was only the sloshing and splashing sound of blood seeping through every thrust, as she continued to violate the body of the corpse.

Until the calm puddle of blood on floor rippled as the tears that broke from her eyes dropped on it's surface.

And when she realized that the doctor was long dead, that broke Y/N out from her feral state. Realizing what she had done; she shakily loosen her grip on the scissors and scrambled off from the lifeless body.

Her breath was near erratic; it was a chaos of unsteady rhythm as her words was lost at the tip of her tongue. She jolted in shock when the commotion in the facility got louder than before, reminding her that Bucky was there to save her.

Y/N felt a sob choking in her throat as her hands searched her stomach to coax the child in her womb, "It's okay sweet bean, daddy's here for us."

Have you ever heard how ear-ringingly loud it is when it's hailing? How the sounds of the frozen raindrops hitting – the top of your car or the roof of the shades of an outdoor café table – can completely mute your words for anyone to hear?

That has nothing compared to the thundering sounds that echoed throughout the whole facility. The shots were fired from multiple range of stolen guns, all were coming from one moving figure.

The once clean grey and white painted walls of the hallways, were now stained and splattered with the color of crimson. The usually empty hallways, were occupied by the dead bodies of fallen Hydra agents. And the distinct scent of well-kept lair, were effortlessly replaced by the unpleasant and pungent smell; a mixture of blood and sweat.

It was a clear trail of the Winter Soldier's deeds.

This place was supposed to be pristine, but now feels more like how it should be; hell.

While the enemies were roaring into their death, the soldat on the other hand was very much the opposite.

Unlike his foe, it took him very little work from the tips of his tongue and much more on the tips of his gun. When the enemies barked like a dog, the soldat pounced like a wolf; silent and resilient.

By nature, the soldat had never been a patient man, especially when it comes to people harming his darling.

Sure, maybe he can tolerate and play along with people who messed with him, but if one were to touch even a strand of hair of his beloved, then they practically reserving themselves a first class ticket of a one-way trip to hell.

And that unhinged tendencies of his only worsen when wrath was the one reigning his mind while hatred was its ruler. His mind was nothing but a chaos of rampage and vengeance. Seeking nothing but blood and death of his foolish foe.

At this point of time, with the amount of life he had taken from the moment he step foot into the gate of the base, to the very stairs he was currently climbing, one could probably matched his heart rate with the rhythm of the shots formed by the bullets he shot.

Magazine upon magazine he reloaded his gun and waste no less than zero bullet as every shot made was accurately deadly and terrifying fatal to his prey.

As the soldat's feet reached half way up the stairs, a Hydra agent's voice spoke from the lower level, "She's on the LG2, we need a team to come and collect her as soon as poss--" A bullet went straight through the top of his head before he could finish his sentence.

And that was the soldat's last ammo.

While he mentally took note on the intel, his feet was quick to jumped into action and made his way down to LG2. As he entered the hallway, his wild eyes wondered around to steal another gun from a dead man's body.

But he rose into a stand, he felt a tip of a cold steel nudged at the back of his head.

Some would call out the soldat's mistake for letting his guard down in the middle of a battle, but another would definitely ridicule the stupidity of that fool's guts for even thinking that the soldat couldn't counter-attack his weak threats.

However, none of the two man managed to made any move towards each other when there was a faster, more accurate trigger was pulled from someone else, from across the hallway.

And that action left an aftermath of the fool's body to drop flat on the floor, quickly finding it's perfect spot with between the other pile of corpses scattered around.

When the soldat turned around, the sharp of his gaze softened almost immediately.

There she was standing there, in the pastel blue of her 'prison' attire. Her hair was a bit messy even if it was tied, and her complexion looked slightly pale with fatigue but to the soldat, she was glowing like angel; despite the blood on her clothes or the gun in her hand.

She was right there.

His heart.

His love.

His darling.

Her eyes were red and puffy, as if she had been crying for days. Her pouty lips trembled when the soldat stepped closer and closer towards her, tears threatening to fall as if she haven't done that during all the weeks that she had been here.

The soldat's steps grew faster.

So does Y/N's.

Tap taping until they were almost running towards each other.

Until the moment they reunited in the middle.

Catching each other's lips in a desperate and insatiable kiss, the soldat pulled her body tight around the waist as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

Both whimpered in a yearning moan, both still had their guns hanging on one of their hands.

So many feelings at once, relief and grief, with each of them had a different story to tell.

The couple kept breaking and mending the kiss ever-so-passionately as if they weren't in the middle of the grave-less cemetery; as if they weren't in the center of the piling corpses.

Briefly opening his eyes, the soldat could see a shadow running towards them. When Y/N heard the footsteps from her back, she knew they need to pull away, but the soldat was firm and stubborn with his hold.

So instead of letting her break the kiss, he groaned in disapproval and pulled her lips back to his. An angry growl vibrated against her lips as he continued to explore her wet and warm mouth.

Caught off-guard she melted to his silent demand, almost forgot that the enemy was right behind her. But, she should've know better when the soldat loosen one of his arms from the embrace and pointed his gun towards the target.

His finger pulled the trigger almost as easily as his teeth tugging into the bottom of her lips. And suddenly the sound of a body collapsing behind didn't matter anymore.

When the soldat felt that he had enough of the sweetness of her kiss, he finally pulled away, at least for now. He whispered dearly, "Родная (darling)..." he cupped her face in his large hands and rested his forehead on hers.

She thought she heard it wrong, but did he just called her darling? It took her a few second to piece it together and realized that this man was not Bucky, that he had relapsed into the Winter Soldier again, "Soldat?"

The soldat smiled and leaned forward to steal a chaste kiss on her lips, "Yes, it's me, мое Родная (my darling)" he cooed as he swept her by her feet, off the bloody ground and carried her in his arm, "I got you, Куколка (little one). You can rest now."

"We're just wanted make sure she's alright."

"You can follow us if you want so just please--"

"Soldat! You're going to hurt her."

The familiar voices leaked through Y/N's ears as she was drifting through her dreamless slumber. Soon enough, the loud commotion of her surrounding woke her up from the deep sleep.

The words that the Avengers were yelling out became clearer as she gained her consciousness, and the ever-changing movements of the soldat, evading every step the Avengers made to get closer to him, made her aware of the way she was resting in his arms; perfectly cocooned in a form of a bridal carry style.

The soldat halted on his spot when Y/N opened her eyes to see what was going on, "Soldat?" She blinked multiple times as she adjusted to the lights. The menacing frown of the soldat melted into a much softer expression, "Родная(darling), you shouldn't be awake yet." He craddled her closer to him as he cooed.

Where is she? How long was she out? When did she changed her clothes?

"What is happening?" She asked as she peered over his shoulder to see Natasha sighing in relief, "Sweetheart, thank god you're awake."

Y/N then looked over to Steve, "You've been gone for weeks, y/n. We got news about your rescue yesterday, and you guys just arrived home. Now, if we could just to take you to the medbay and get you check-up, that'll be great." He briefly explained.

"Yeah, that's all we want isn't it? But, someone just had to be sappy and refuse to let anyone touch you. You know, how it is with the soldier." Tony quickly intercepted.

The soldat didn't pay them any attention now that his darling was awake. He was merely focusing on whispering the sweetest things as he traces delicate trails of kisses on her forehead, her nose, her cheek, basically all over her face.

Sam took it as opportunity to get closer when the soldat was distracted on suffocating Y/N with kisses. But he should learn by now how alert and agile the soldat can be, especially when he have Y/N close to his proximity.

So, when Sam took a step closer, the soldat recoiled almost immediately, putting quite of a distance between them.

"Man, if Bucky has a staring problem, then the winter soldier over here has a hogging problem." Sam accusingly pointed at the soldat, only getting grunts as a reply.

Looking at the current situation, Y/N pondered for awhile. As much as she wanted to get herself check-up, it was also wise to not pressure the soldat to give her away.

Considering what she witnessed at the Hydra base, Y/N knew the risk that comes when we let the soldat dwell in anger for too long.

So she consulted the rest of the team to back down for now, and let the soldat do what he wants. Y/N promised them that she will conviced the soldat to let her get a check-up as soon as possible. But for now, they really need to trust her words.

At first every one of them was reluctant to let her go but in the end they agreed to her suggestion.

When the team spread out and gave some space for the soldat, he didn't waste any time and marched straight to where their bedroom supposed to be. As soon as they arrived at their safe space, the soldat almost threw Y/N onto the bed and swiftly drew a knife from the holster of his thigh as his predatory eyes searched the room.

He refused to move even an inch away from where he stood and remained close to Y/N; shielding her figure with his own.

It was very faint, but the soldat could sensed that they weren't the only ones in the room.

Y/N eyed him curiously, wondering why the soldat was still on edge when he wasn't supposed to. So, she hopped off from the bed and stood on her feet before reaching out to hug the soldat from behind.

"You can put the knife down, soldat. It's just us here." She coaxed but the soldat refused to believe her. He pulled her by the arms, breaking her hug in the process and hold her close to his chest, "There's someone else here."

His actions was rather rougher than he intended it to be; even Y/N was startled by the sudden movement, "Oooff, careful there, soldat. You might give the little one a fright." She chuckled softly as she give her belly a loving rub.

And suddenly his attention was completely focused on Y/N now. Usually his frown symbolized irritation, but this time there was a clear confusion in his eyes. The amount of appalled blinking of his eyes increases when the puzzle pieces in his head started to merge.

The soldat knew that he heard a third heartbeat in the room; that was why he was on alert for threats but apparently he had been closer to the source than he thought was.

In fact, it was right his arms. Or maybe a little bit lower, somewhere around his torso.

Y/N didn't say anything, she simply nodded and smiled up to him as she continued to rub her belly.

When the conclusion finally hits him, the soldat dropped the knife in his hand at the same time he fell on his knees. His gaze never broke from hers, not even a split second, until he was face to face with her tummy.

The soldat leaned one side of his ear closer to her and the thumping sound of the third heartbeat got louder. The discovery had caused him to jolt away as shock decorated his features. He titled his head upwards to Y/N with the same wide, confused look in his blue eyes.

"It's okay, love." She giggled amusingly when the soldat repeated his previous actions. He leaned in and jolted back again as if he couldn't believe what he just heard was real, "Is it... his?" The soldat asked as he implied his existance to be separated from Bucky.

There was a hint of sadness in Y/N's expression when he said it like that. There's been many long conversations that she and Bucky had about the soldat after his first relapse.

Though Bucky was still unsure of his own dissociating self, Y/N on other hand believed that the soldat, this particular man whose drenched the earth with blood just to save her, the same man whose currently on his knees to hear a heartbeat of an unborn child; he deserved a little kindness in his life.

"Yes..." Y/N answered truthfully before she continued, "...and he's yours too."

And that surely knocked the air out of the soldat's lungs, he couldn't tell if she was telling him the truth or was just trying to kill him; either way the butterflies in his chest was suffocating him from the inside.

The soldat couldn't speak a single word; because he didn't know what to say. But there was this beam on his features, light in his eyes, softness on his smile when he dreamily stared at her growing belly.

Y/N took him by his flesh hand and place his palm on her stomach, then she spoke tenderly to the baby inside her, "Wanna say hi to daddy, sweet bean? Say, 'Welcome home, daddy.' "

She knew it was silly, because obviously the child in her womb shouldn't be able to speak, and he was not yet developed enough to be kicking his feet. Hell, they don't even know his gender yet.

But how could she not say it when the soldat looked so damn happy when she did. He looked so peaceful and has this daze and some of those twinkling hearts in those steel-blue eyes of. The soldat sighed in pure joy before he leaned to kiss her stomach.

And as it turns out that was all she needed to do to persuade the soldat to letting her see the doctors. He was there through the whole process, refusing to let go of her hand. It was such a good news to hear that the baby was healthy and there wasn't any foreign substance that might contaminated her during her times in Hydra.

After getting proper medical care and some food in her system, the soldat immediately carry her back to their room to settle down. While she laid on the bed, making up for the lost time to finally get the mental rest she desperately needed, the soldat on the other hand, had made himself comfortable by lying his head on her stomach.

He just couldn't stop; as if he was hypnotised by the melody of the baby's heartbeat. His hand snuck under her shirt, lifting the fabric up to reveal the belly where their miracle resides.

Y/N's droopy eyes followed his actions as she watched how carefully the soldat approached her. Out of habit, her hands absentmindedly rake through the softness of his hair as she held him by the head.

The soldat dotingly caressed the child's sleeping chambers as he leaned closer to it, "...Hi there, little one." he greeted with a quiet and loving whisper.

Immediately, a smile beamed brightly on Y/N's face when the soldat proceed to pamper her belly with countless of tender kisses, "...it's daddy." he introduced himself, as if the baby was able to understand him.

The silence that came after was so sweet and comfortable. And Y/N knew she wouldn't be able to have this without the soldat. She tucked a piece of his loose strand of hair behind his ear when she spoke gently, "Thank you for saving me, soldat."

He briefly lifted his head and smiled up at her, "You know I can't live without you Родная (darling). I will always need you." He declared a truthful confession before turning his attention away. His lips grazed on the skin of her belly as he mumbled against it, "And you too, little one."

Y/N could burst into tears just from this interaction alone but she try not to. She doesn't want to look back at this moment and remember how much she wept, so she blinked her tears away while she watched the soldat spoiled the little buddle of joy inside her with so much endearments.

Even though it was always a happy memory for the soldat when he spend time with his darling, but this... this was rare. And he wanted to cherish it for as long as he could.

The soldat laid on his ears again when he peered from where he had his head rested, his deep gaze captured her attention, "Has he been taking care of you good, darling?" He asked.

The soldat probably had no idea how Bucky adored her; if anyone paid enough attention they might even caught him worshipping the very ground she stepped on.

A breathy chuckle escaped from her mouth as nodded with a drunken grin, "He's the best." She hummed approvingly, "Best husband, and best daddy too." She exclaimed brightly as she glanced at the ring on her finger; it was barely visible through the thick of the soldat's hair.

Surprisingly, the soldat didn't react negatively to her remarks, instead, a proud smile curved on his lips as the pride in his chest overflowed and leaked all through his very being, "Good." He simply said.

The smile lines on the corner of his eyes didn't flatten even when he closed his eyes. For a moment, he tried to silenced everything else around him and focused on the fluttering sounds of the baby's tiny heart.

It might have been the thick haze of lavender smoke in their head or the swarming butterflies in their chest, that they didn't even notice the fatigue that had been slowly taking over them, until the tenderness of their caresses were barely moving.

When the heaviness of her eyes weighted the lids, she sleepily asked the soldat, "Will you still be here when I wake up?" Truth to be told, she was afraid that all of this was just a dream; an escape from reality of the cruel captivity.

The soldat briefly opened his own tired eyes and cooed softly, "I'm always with you, Родная (darling)." And Y/N took it as a promise for her desprete soul to cling on; a ray of hope for her to hold onto, if she ever wakes up in that cell again.

Not long after, both of them lost to the lure of somnolent and their soul quickly drifted into the peaceful dreamland. Soft snores were filling the quiet of the room as their mortal body continued to entangled themselves with each other.

It was safe to say that if Steve would ever barge into the room, he'd probably maxed the storage of his phone with photos of the soldat smushing his face on Y/N's belly as she perfectly curled around him.

Maybe it was the sunlight leaking through the window or maybe it was the intense gaze she felt burning on the skin of her face. Eitherway, it certainly disturbed her from her sleep.

When her body stirred, Y/N realized that she didn't need to open her eyes to know that last night was not a dream, especially when she can feel a pair of familiar arms wrapping around her waist under her shirt.

Y/N slowly peeled her eyes open to see a recognizable ceiling. Her eyes then trailed to her side and met a pair of blue of eyes staring back at her. Her gaze searched for the soul within him and found the semblance of Bucky reflected in his eyes.

Still dazed from sleep, she continued to watch him blinking at her, slowly and silently, like a cat declaring their love to their human. But even then, he couldn't hide the afterglow of the tears on his face.

"Bucky, honey. Have you been crying?" Her voice rasped from lack of use, yet her tender fingers find themselves crawling across his wet cheeks.

It was as if her voice was a trigger, and tears quickly reformed in Bucky's eyes again. Y/N gently pulled him to her chest, one hand threading his hair and another rubbing his back as he sobbed in her arms, "It's okay, Bucky. We're okay." She continued to coax him lovingly.

They spend most of the early morning holding each other close and dear. Then when the tears started to lessen, Bucky finally pulled himself away from her. Y/N wiped the excess tears on his cheeks but he caught her hand underneath his; he relished in the relief of her presence when he sighed to her touch.

Bucky's gaze wobbled in the pool of tears in his eyes but he was still determined to speak his mind "I'm so sorry, doll." He apologized, "I couldn't stop them. Even with this damned serum in me, I still couldn't protect you; both of you." If his defeated voice didn't convey his truth, then the tremble of his touch should be enough.

And Y/N's heart simply shattered for him; what did he meant by that? He did save her though. The winter soldier or Bucky. It didn't matter who but she was here now because of him. She was safe; they both were, "But you saved me, did you not?"

"But, I didn't. The sol--" Before Bucky could even finish his sentence, Y/N quickly cuts in, "The soldat is always going to be a part of you, Bucky. And if he saved me, that means you saved me too." She reassured him.

Seeing the hesitation in his eyes, she continued to persuade him, "And if I could speak for our child, which I absolutely can because I'm his mother, then he would say that he is proud that his strong daddy managed to beat the absolute shit out of those bad guys."

Bucky blurted out a hearty laugh, "I don't think it's good to teach our baby to curse when he is still in your womb, mama." His laugh gradually reduced to a chuckle when he wiped the remaining tears from his eyes.

Y/N simply shrugged to his suggestion, "It's not like he wouldn remember this anyway." She smirked playfully.

Another chuckle managed to slip through Bucky's lips before he lowered his face to her tummy, "And you? How's your play date with Winter, hmm sweet bean?" He mumbled as his lips planted on her skin.

Besides the heartbeat of his child, he could also hear the tiny twitching of the baby's limbs moving ever-so-slightly, "Yeah, I bet he spoiled you with lots of kisses and cuddles, huh? Like he did your mommy?" He continued to coo against her belly, unaware of the shock on his wife's face.

"Winter?" A small smile cracked from the corner of her lips. Yes, she was shocked but that doesn't mean she wasn't pleasantly surprised by it.

Bucky didn't even bother to look up at Y/N's face as he was busy blowing raspberries on her stomach, "If he's going to keep popping up in our lives then we might as well call him something else other than 'soldat', don't you think?" He simply said, marking one last kiss on the small growing bulge on her belly, before working his way back up to her face.

Y/N's heart swelled to his gesture and when he laid his head next to hers, she carefully took him by his cheeks, pulling him in for a gentle kiss, "I think he'd love that, Bucky." She whispered against his lips, feeling his smile in return.

Bucky nudges forward to catch her lips again; kissing her slow and sweet as if his whole world has been waiting for this moment. And when the kiss naturally broke, he tempted her with something he knew she couldn't resist, "Now, how about we grab you both something to bite, hmm?"

End.

Read my other works here: Masterlist

A/N: The use of the title in the fic is suprisingly wholesome despite the insinuation of it, don't you think? Lol. Btw, thank you so much for stopping by and read my work. Leave your thoughts behind for me, I'd love to hear from you!

#winterarmyyfics #welcome home soldat au #the seven writing event #nickfowlerrr’s writing event #winter soldier!bucky #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky x you #winter soldier x you #winter soldier x reader #winter soldier fluff #bucky fluff #nickfowlerrr's writing event

4K notes · View notes

wandamaximoffsbadgirl · 2 months

Text

Mommy Can We Play?

Sugar Mommy!Agatha Harkness x Wanda Maximoff x Sugar baby!fem!reader

Summary: Wanda's come over for a business meeting with Mommy, but when it comes time for goodbyes you can't let go.

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, Mommy kink, R calls A Mommy, A calls R Princess, strap use, praise kink, oral (R give A a blowjob, straps are referred to as cocks, Polyamory, Wanda uses various Russian pet names

Word count: 1.7K

A/N: This just festered in my brain for no particular reason and then when I started writing didn't want to come out, but I did it so here you go everyone enjoy more of these two plus Wanda

The warm early summer breeze blew through the windows of Agatha's home. She requested if you weren't going to go outside at least keep the windows open so you could get some fresh air. So you did as asked and opened all of the living room windows and the back sliding glass door was opened all the way for a nice cross breeze to come through.

The calming sounds of animal crossing played through your switch lite as you lay tummy down on the expense and rather wide sectional Agatha had chosen for the living room. A pillow helped prop you up and various snacks adorned the square wooden coffee table along with three different half drunken drinks. Agatha always wanted you to have water especially as the summer months rolled around, but you insisted on also having some sort of juice for taste and an energy drink for caffeine. Agatha wasn't a fan of it, but you had promised to limit the intake to one and drink it slowly through the day with the others.

Agatha had been working from home a business meeting with Wanda which meant you were to be quiet and not bother her hence the switch, snacks, and drinks all in reach. Your mind completely focused on your game as you terraformed your island; your tongue poking out ever so slightly. You're so focused on your game you don't hear the two older women come down from the office or that Wanda is right in front of you until she's bending down. Her finger hooking under your chin,

“Milaya, is your game that enthralling you can't even get up to say goodbye?” Wanda's husky voice hits your ears and suddenly it feels ice cold in here. The rings on her fingers helped none with the cold feeling washing over you. Your voice sputters to form a sentence.

“Your baby really is so cute, Aggie. I love making her like this. You should reconsider letting me play with her.” Wanda cooed. Your body finally caught up, your switch flying from your hand, crashing back to the couch as you flung your body backwards to the corner of the sectional. Your body shook and breathing felt hard.

“Princess you're okay. Sorry Wands when she's engrossed in something if you get too close it scares her.” Wanda didn't acknowledge Agatha other than slowly approaching you,

“I'm sorry Detka. I didn't mean to scare you.” Wanda sat down near you, giving you enough space, holding out her hand as if you were a scared pup.

When your breathing evened you leaned over, setting your chin in her palm just as you would for Agatha. You eyes looking up at Wanda's sea green eyes, the more you looked the more it reminded you more of sea glass reflecting back at you. If Agatha's eyes were the ocean forever drowning you in love, Wanda's eyes were those small moments of joy you'd get when you'd find a really nice piece of sea glass.

You liked when Wanda would come by, Agatha had her over for work meetings, thought sessions, and dinners. You had heard stories that back when Wanda had first joined the company the two actually hated each other. You couldn't see that now with how close the two women were. Wanda was over here at least once a week if not more depending on that week's deadlines.

Being with Agatha for close to a year Wanda's presence had become just as comforting as Agatha's. You'd be lying to yourself if you said you hadn't thought about those ringed fingers deep inside your mouth or your sopping wet cunt. That accented voice giving commands from above as those green eyes looked more like black holes ready to swallow you whole.

Your help tilted slightly in Wanda's touch as the heat of your cheek warmed both her digits and rings up. One of your hands coming up to play with her rings. Wanda knew of your love of rings just as much as she loved them. She had given you a ring after coming back from a business trip. She had also gotten something for Agatha, but a ring felt intimate. You couldn't explain why and after she gave it to you it back one you wore almost daily. That was something Wanda had taken notice of and since then had made more and more advances towards you, but today it seemed all three of you were feeling bold.

You opened your mouth and let your lips wrap around her thumb, slowly taking it into your mouth as you watched the lust take over her features. Her other hand found its way to your thigh, rubbing and squeezing gently. You hadn't noticed Agatha until she was sitting just behind Wanda.

“I think she's ready, dear.” You heard Agatha's voice call out and your eyes moved to hers. A look you'd seen many times before.

“Peash Mama.” You managed to speak around Wanda's thumb who slowly let it slip back out.

“Please what princess? What is it you're asking?” Agatha did a little head tilt, feigning innocence as she did when she wanted you to use your words though they tend to slip away when you want something like this.

“Please Mommy want to be taken by both of you.” Your eyes pleaded with Agatha who you knew couldn’t resist that look; she never could.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Drool ran down your chin to your neck and down the valley of your breasts before dripping off your nipple. A shiver was sent down your spine that was currently arched. Your mouth held open by Agatha’s strap, your favorite one hitting the back of your throat. Every thrust that Wanda was giving with her own strap made Agatha’s move back and forth. Gags and choked moans coming out of you which only produced more drool. Your mind was a hazy mess and you felt like you were swimming even more than usual which made sense with the added factor of Wanda.

“Oh Detka taking my cock so well, can’t wait to see you cum all over it.” Wanda’s breathy voice made it’s way to your ears. All you wanted to do was look back at the Sokovian, but with Agatha trapping you it wouldn’t be a thing anytime soon.

When Agatha finally did slip out of your mouth you took the opportunity to push yourself up into Wanda as your head hit the mattress. Your face turning so your could look at her with hair slicked back from sweat, hips hitting into you at a brutal pace. Her nails dug into your hips and the grip she had was sure to leave bruises, but none of it mattered to you.

Right now her being buried so deep inside felt amazing. The strap Wanda packed with felt just as good as the one you called your favorite. It filled you up in all the right spots. The loud moans and screams being freed from your mouth, her name spilling past your lips only pushed her further to the edge as you looked back up to Agatha who was watching the two of you. She was watching your pleasure, your pain and enjoyed every moment of it.

“Go on Princess. I know that look. Cum for Wanda.” Your head looked back to Wanda, normally Agatha’s permission was all you needed, but you had to ask,

“Can I Wanda? Can I please cum on your cock?” You asked. Her head snapping up, eyes meeting and you could see she was about to fall with you. The quick rise and fall of her chest, her eager thrusts, the grip tightening on your hips.

“Cum with me Milaya.” That was it the push over the edge that you needed. The coil finally snapping as you were sent over the edge with her deep thrusts. How did she manage to get deeper? You could feel yourself tighten around her. Effectively making her rut against you as she fell moments after you, moaning out in Sokovian, strings of expletive's you assumed as your head drowned in pleasure.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“You did so good for me.” Wanda’s voice was softer than you’d ever heard before. You were cocooned against her, unwilling to let go. Agatha had gone of to get your aftercare items. Wanda’s fingers now without all her rings ran through your hair softly. Continued whispered praises until Agatha came back, breaking the bond of the two of you.

“Here princess drink.” Your tumblr you’d filled this morning with ice water was handed to you which you cradled against you. A few big sips and you were trying to hand it back off, but Wanda gently tapped your cheek.

“Few more Milaya.” She insisted, so you did until another gentle tap came. You looked up to see the red head with a smile on her face. “All done.” Her tone almost sounded as if she were talking to a child. Agatha took the bottle from you, setting it on the side table. You settled back in against Wanda as the two older women talked. The Sokovian’s fingers softly scratching at your scalp while Agatha’s fingers were drawing patterns in your back.

“It seems she likes you.” Agatha had a smile on her face, your eyes were closed, but you knew how her voice sounded when she was smiling. “You should join us more often.” The suggestion came and your ears perked up. You eyes fluttered open, looking up at Wanda who was looking down at you.

“Would you like that malyshka?” She asked you, your teeth finding their way to biting your bottom lip with a smile threatening to break your face as you nodded. Wanda smiled, pulling your bottom lip from the hold your teeth had on it. “Words krasivaya devushka.” Her thumb brushed your lips, they were calling your name once more taking it into your mouth, through your lashes you looked up at Wanda.

“Yesh peash.” You mumbled around her thumb. It was enough for the two older women who simply nodded at each other. It didn’t elude you when the two women shifted ever so slightly so their hands were touching. A smile on your face as your eyes closed and sleep soon took over with thoughts of a next time playing through your mind.

#ley speaks #ley writes #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #wanda x you #agatha harkness x reader #agatha harkness x fem!reader #agatha x reader #agatha harkness #sugar baby!reader #sugar mommy!agatha

565 notes · View notes

hyperfixiation-station · 3 months

Note

Hi!!

I am totally obsessed with your fics!!! Your writing 🤌💕

I just wanted to request a fic where the reader is new to the task force but she's experienced and tough. Vibez similar to Ghost to elaborate she's more scary than Ghost cuz of her past maybe she was experimented on or trained brutally....

Reader is working hard to prove herself even if everyone knows she's the most lethal person. So one time she gets injured badly while protecting someone from the 141( probably Ghost 👉👈) and she wakes up has an emotional moment Ghost comes know about her Trauma . More like hurt/comfort....

Happy Writing 💝

Guilt-Tripped

CW: Mentions/references of kidnapping, torture, canon typical violenece Part 2, Part 3 Hiii Anon!! First off, thank you! Secondly, I am so, so, so sorry for how long this took😭 I did make this a two parter, the first part is kinda like backstoryish and the second part will be the actual story. I was gonna wait until I finished both to post but you have been waiting for way to long so I'll give you the first part now instead of waiting, again I am so sorry! I hope you like it :)) Summary: F!Reader was a part of a special program(LMK if you can guess what it is) and once she was released she joined the military.

WC: 1467 As always, I didn't proof read so lmk if there are any mistakes :3

Life had not been kind to you. Ripped from your family at a very young age, you had never known the type of love and safety a nurturing home could provide. Instead, you grew up in the confines of a Russian base, with cruel instructors and a dwindling group of girls as your only companions.

From the moment you could walk, you had been told you were a weapon. A lethal force to be honed and trained, nothing more than a tool for others to use to further their games. Brainwashed, tortured, and trained into submission, a perfect puppet. Both your brain and body were sculpted into absolute perfection, a rigorous process most people did not survive. By day, they trained to be a lethal force, an unstoppable, unnoticeable, killing machine. At night, you were handcuffed to your bed, listening to the screams of students who did not make the cut.(to this day you sleep handcuffed)

You watched, at first in horror, then with a sense of detachment, as your friendsrivals bit the dust, unable to keep up with what the program demanded of them. It got better as you got older, less girls died from their tasks. But in some ways it got worse. It was a competition now, a fight to see who would remain victorious, to see who would come out on top. It was not a place for friendship and comradery, and you learned that quickly.

You stopped trying to make friends with the other students when you were forced to shoot your best friend in the head after giving her some of your dinner when she was being punished. You were 8. And you stopped trying to even just be friendly with the other girls at 10 years old, when the instructor broke every bone in your hands after your bunkmate framed you for something you didn't do. To this day your hands are not the same, always hurting and forever scarred.

Your world was kill or be killed, and you'd be dammed if you didn't come out on top.

And come out on top you did. You graduated top of your class, a position you had fought and killed for, won through bloodshed and pain. If you had a conscience, it would have been screaming at you for the things you had done to get to the top(You laid awake every night consumed by guilt and grief)

The program was disbanded(re: destroyed) when you hit 18, just two weeks after your 'graduation'. You were given two options: Join the American military, or face a life sentence in prison.

You had a lifetime of sins to atone for, and knew there was only one way to even begin to ease your guilt. Two days later your background was sealed up and you were shipped off to boot camp.

And you excelled. This was nothing to you. What was a six mile run when you used to run until you passed out, then wake up and keep going? What was surviving on four hours of sleep when sleep deprivation had been the norm your whole life? What was any of this compared to what you had been forced to do everyday since you were five?

You scared your instructors. And the other recruits. And everyone else you came into contact with. And you were fine with that. You didn't like when people got close to you anyhow.

Love got you nowhere in the world. It was a lesson you learned hard and fast. You did not care for others, they did not care for you. And you liked it that way. Until you met the 141.

A woman named General Laswell came to you one day with a job offer. Well, not a job offer exactly, but more of a…transfer of positions. A small, (mostly)four-man team that she oversaw.

You had gotten disciplined for beating the ever-loving shit out of a recruit the week before, and Laswell had watched it all unfold. She went back to her office, read your full file, and decided you would make a good fit for John's team.

You took a look at your bunk, at the trunk that held zero worldly possessions, realized there is nothing for you here, and said yes.

Price had not wanted a new recruit, and told Laswell as much. She simply said he had a penchant for picking up strays and left your file on his desk. It took him a week to actually get curious enough to read it. A paper copy, the only one in existence that had your full, undisclosed background. He pretended he didn’t see her smug grin when he hit accept on your transfer application.

You had been trained since youth to fight and to kill, yes, but your true purpose was espionage. You were trained to study those around you, to lie, to mold yourself to the expectations of those around you. You excelled at fitting into your surroundings, at assimilating perfectly with your peers. It was all you were good for, in your opinion. So you asked Laswell for files on your new teammates. And she gave them to you. They were full of gaping holes and redacted information, but there was enough there for you to profile them.

Soap would be the most receptive to you. He most likely would also be the one to not give up in trying to get you to be open with them. Gaz would be receptive as well, but you know that your sealed background would put him on edge, Ghost, well…Ghost was a lot like you from what you could piece together. Yet another person who learned that the world was cruel and unforgiving, who had learned the lesson that love does nothing but hurt. And because he was like you, you knew he would trust you the least.

You felt a small pang in your chest when looking at this masked photo that you hadn’t felt in years. Not quite sadness, but…pity? No. It was different, it was sympathy. It weirded you out.

It was hard at first, joining the 141. You had court-mandated therapy you had had to attend, and you had slowly come to realize that some trust was good, necessary even, for life. You knew you wouldn’t be able to open yourself up to them, that you would never be able to feel the sense of brotherhood you had seen amongst other soldiers, but you wanted to try.

It was harder than you thought it would be. Hard joining men who already had comradery, who had a bond that had been forged with blood, sweat, and tears. men who weren't sure how to fit another person, much less a female, into their group.

As you suspected, Soap was the most receptive. He was fun, you thought. His Scottish accent and affinity for filling the silence made him a very pleasant conversationalist. You didn’t have to do any of the talking.

Gaz was wary of you, but did a good job of not showing it. As you suspected, he stopped inviting you out after you said ‘no thanks’ for the third time.

Ghost didn’t like you. You could see it in the slight tensing of his muscles when you walked in the room, the way his eyes pinched when you spoke.

It was a rough, rocky start, full of distrust and misunderstandings. Everything about you set his senses on high alert. They way you could sneak up on him completely silent, the way you could hold your own when you sparred with him, even the way you moved had his hair standing on end. It wasn’t until a mission that would have ended with Soap's death if you hadn’t risked your life to shove him out of the way that Ghost began to trust you.

And then he began to notice something else about you. And the more he noticed, the more concerned he grew. He noticed the way you threw yourself into battle, what little regard you held for your own life. He noticed how you never instigated conversation, never gave away the slightest bit of information that could be used against you. Noticed that you always wore gloves. In fact, he's never once seen your hands.

His constant observations of you had an unintended side effect. The longer he watched you, the more he realized you were a lot like him, the more he was drawn to you. And vice-versa.

You found yourself willfully seeking Ghost out, willingly sharing information with him. Nothing about your past, no, you would never tell anyone the things you had done. But little things, how you liked the food served this week, how your mission went, that your new pants were really itchy. And he told you things too. Told you really bad jokes, told you Soaps stupid Scottish saying of the week. And slowly you branched out, agreeing to go to the bar the next time Soap asked you, telling Gaz that you liked his new sunglasses.

It was nice, having people who looked at you like you meant something to them. Having people who didn’t know what you’d done, people who didn’t look at you with disgust and distrust. It was nice to have…friends.

So of course everything had to go downhill from there.

End scene :3 let me know what you think!!6 and be on the look out for pt.2, I hope you're ready for a buttload of angst >:) Also requests are open <3

226 notes · View notes

thatdeadaquarius · 5 months

Text

Harry Potter/Genshin Impact Crossover Fun🎉

for @kiraisastay my beta reader for the big fat Eldritch AU awhile back! :)

“…a genshin/Harry Potter crossover where reader (still fem) comes from genshin (so she has a vision) and tries to fit in at Hogwarts (would love for it to be set around the Goblet Of Fire so the hp characters in that age start maturing and actually understand what happens around them and aren't little kids , plus, y'know, YULE BALL), would also like for the reader to have a more stoic/emotionless personality with tragic past (so like having scars y'knowww) cuz it makes character building a lot more juicy ahah, but you can write it however you want tho!! (this can be funnier to write if you're feeling a lot creative)”

UGH sorry i took forever! im rlly bad at estimating time...

I hope this is a fun read at least, and thanks for much for taking on that eldritch monster fic awhile back lol

☆

Orbit: Long Headcanon/fic-thing (~2k words) - Harry Potter x Genshin Impact Crossover (4th Year)

Sun: Feminine Reader (she/her), Slytherin Reader, Reader is 15-16 year old.

Stars: Harry, Ron, Hermione, McGonagall, Dumbledore, Snape, Viktor Krum, mentions of others.

Comets & Meteors: Content Warnings: Reader has rough past, & Trigger Warnings: vague mentions of scars, Reader has bad relationship with parents.

☆

You’re so fucking happy your Cryo Vision came with you.

You knew you were in a different country, one you definitely had never been to before, but you couldn’t figure out for the life of you where it was at first

Your first guess was Fontaine, but the robes and strange overuse of catalyst weapons (actually, only catalyst weapons??) began to convince you otherwise real quick,

Fontaine was just the closest country you could compare it to

yeah so obviously by the time u realized you shouldn't be waving a sword around, it was too late lmao, u scared the shit out of the potions shopkeeper and had to make a hasty exit

bc for some reason any other weapon than a catalyst is shamed here?? which makes no sense to you, as it seems like their “magic” here could just as easily be channeled into different weapons/items??

u guess not having monsters to randomly fight everytime u just wanna take a walk outside makes for a pretty peaceful world, and specifically this country ”England” or the “United Kingdom”

u had taken a week or so to re-orient yourself to this new world, how only a certain society knew about their magic, how there were no gods here, at least not any u could easily interact with, and that most people your age would be in school still???

while u could choose to pursue higher education or specialize in Sumeru’s Akademiya, basic schooling was still provided in every country in Teyvat up until about 15 years old

but at this point u were willing to do what it took to blend into this world, and u didnt want anyone to be asking how old u were/why u werent in school when you wandered around, so u went to Hogwarts

It also proved to be a good way to acquaint urself with the world/its magic and give u a place to better excuse any social or magical mistakes

But needless to say, u struggled, u had to constantly find some workaround for “magic” from the wands/catalysts in classes

and luckily they took u being a transfer student pretty smoothly, as u were just in time for the “Triwizard Tournament” to be announced and other schools were coming to participate, u easily got accepted in

and the only one who batted an eye at it was the weird old Headmaster, who u already suspected knew more abt u than he was letting on (Dumbledore seemed to have eyes everywhere the more u learned, which made u more suspicious of him too)

you'd been sorted into Slytherin, along with the Russian magical students, (Durmstrang?)

of which you had absolutely no frame of reference for how bad that was, other than being accused of literally being from the Abyss 💀

while the rest of the student body treated u with the basic contempt u learned all Slytherins just seemed to kind of get all the time, ur own house was a little more confusing when it came to you

some were curious abt all the scars, the strange glowing snowflake gem that u concealed on ur hip, what ur country was like and what the magic school over there was like (thank fuck for ur poker face and insane lying skills that made it believable)

(there was absolutely a rumor abt u pulling a sword on Filch at some point, u neither denied nor supported it)

the other half of the slytherins were all uptight about u possibly being a “Muggleborn” and sneered at u every chance they got (some weird blond kid a year or 2 below you??)

or they outright ignored u

tbh u didn't really get much genuine favor between Slytherins just being Slytherins and ur own reputation/cold disposition until Professor Snape saw how good u were at potions a month into this insanity

(it was just basic alchemy? nearly everyone, especially Vision-users, knew how to do it back home? why was it so special here?? u had this kind of question a lot in this world over most things, like the “muggles dont know abt magic” thing, it seem like more trouble than its worth.)

U both got along in the same way a cold-demeanor father bonds with his carbon copy cold-demeanor daughter lol

in which he invited u for tea sometimes out of polite extra teaching for “ur future plans of being a potion master, like myself”

which okay?? u were better than most ur age at potions bc of alchemy (which u learned is taught at higher levels of potion mastery) and its not like you've figured out how to get back to ur world anytime soon

so u just roll with that being ur “future career” for now, it makes the old emo professor happy so u figure why not

And its the first scrap of favor you’ve found here so it works

Tho u did complain at Snape for picking on Gryffindors, saying “ur rlly not helping that Slytherin reputation for tall dark and evil here”

He proceeded to make u clean and reorganize his potion stores for that lol

(Tho he did start to lighten up the more u picked on him abt it, the poor kid with huge round glasses followed you with his huge green eyes for weeks, he seems to be the only one who's really realized ur the one convincing Snape to mellow out)

U begin researching information (thanks to Snape) in the forbidden part of the library abt different worlds/time travel, anything thatd put u close to possibly getting back home

Or, to be honest, a portal would be better, bc youd like to come back here sometimes,

Its not like u have family back home (not any who you'd want to visit), mostly just a few good friends who'd be worried abt u (Childe misses his sparring partner for sure)

Which then leads u to noticing that boy with the black hair and big round glasses (was it smth like,,, harold sculptor? Atp that seems like a feasible name to you bc in this world parents rlly were cruel abt naming their kid “feathery” or smth wild)

Harold and two others, one with fluffy long hair, and the other a redhead,

Were attempting to “spy” on u from behind bookshelves or at tables seated near the forbidden section

U saw them learn the times u came there and how they made sure to match them (tho it seems the redhead got bored easily and begged to eat instead)

You'd actually managed to make friends with some Durmstrang friends in the meantime too

And by that u mean Viktor Krum mostly

Ppl were constantly obsessed with him and he'd managed to escape up the astronomy tower to get some peace and quiet,

Only to run into u reading away, and he'd heard abt ur reputation, and wanted to befriend u

U two got along rlly well, lots of peaceful silences, and chill convos, esp since u guys had some stuff in common

Mostly how ur both foreign to Hogwarts/this country and adjusting still

Anyway that is to say, Viktor teased u abt the ducklings following u around everywhere thinking they were sneaky

And this was a routine u got used to, until it was time for the tournament

You hadnt bothered to put ur name in, u didnt feel like risking ur life for no reason afterall

So needless to say u were pissed when rumors went around abt u putting Harol- Harry's name in the goblet

(u finally learned his name, apparently he's famous for not dying? As a baby?? A powerful tyrant evil wizard wanted to kill him as a baby??? Just,, why)

Not only that but then he was obligated to be in the tournament???

U knew there was smth insane abt this school, bringing back this crazy tournament in the first place, somehow getting Harry's name in the goblet,

but u didn't think they were batshit crazy.

(Dumbledore is not helping his case in your eyes, esp as u suspect he’s got Snape involved in his BS too somehow…)

So needless to say you were going to fix this mess since these seasoned “wizard adults” weren't 😒

You snuck into the Great Hall using a high level alchemy invisibility amulet, and used ur Cryo vision to extinguish the Goblet of Fire 💀

It reset the game, and luckily they were able to resubmit the champions to the Triwizard Tournament and hide away the Goblet before it got tampered with again

Lol u got Harry out of it, and it wasnt until later in the library that u get cornered by the Gryffindor fourth year himself

He admits to seeing u under his invisibilty cloak that night and thanks you for getting him out of that hell, poor kid looks so grateful 😭

But regardless of that, he insists u tell him abt the ice spell u used, how u used it wandless, with no incantation, etc.

You just gave him a small smile (his big green eyes look even more shocked behind the glasses, what, was that old professor right? do u rlly not smile that much?) and tell him he owes u one

He agrees and u go on ur way to the forbidden section

(U dont explain the ice, afterall, who would believe him? You werent even that much older, and only “master wizards” could do what u did)

After that, Harry starts to follow u around a lot more,

much to the annoyance of his redhead friend (Rodrick? Rocky? smth with a R-) and the absolute admiration of the younger girl with big hair

the champions start the first trial, and u help Viktor out with a plan to defeat the dragon and get the egg in one piece (u had lots of experience with monsters after all, and Viktor and Snape, who couldn't keep his big nose out of your business, were simultaneously disturbed and yet not surprised by this information)

it works flawlessly, and that's when you notice the new DA teacher acting suspicious

as the champions gear up for the 2nd trial, u help Viktor try to figure out the egg’s secrets,

Both Harry and Hermione have taken to interrupting ur library research time (u finally learned her name, but not the redhead, he seemed a bit rude tbh so u don't care to know)

after brainstorming (well more like talking at the brick wall that was Snape) with the old potions professor over tea gossip time again, u finally figure out how to get the egg open without screaming, and tell Viktor

Who thanks u by taking u to the Yule Ball, but u only manage the first dance before u get absorbed in the food and the cool decor, and u also convince him to gossip with u in the corner too

(u do appreciate having a reason to dress up at least, as you attempt to imitate the Tsaritsa herself with this dress)

U notice further on into the night that Hermione ran out looking upset, and ur “girl’s girl” instinct kicks in, (regardless of ur neutrality for her, u lie to urself) and follow her outside to comfort her

u talk, and tho ur cold demanour did intimidate her a little, after she realized u were genuinely trying to help her, she took u up on the offer, and asked if u two could be friends since she’s “surrounded by stupid Gryffindor boys all the time”

u agreed amused, and convinced her to join Viktor and u in ur gossip session, which Harry (after humiliating himself on the dance floor), joined in later as well

(You may or may not have iced the floor secretly under the redhead’s and the equally annoying prissy Slytherin blonde’s feet, sending them sprawling on top of each other, so neither would come bother u four)

Over the next week you hear from Hermione’s researching/studying sessions with you that Ron did apologize to her, of which u advised her to get revenge on him anyway lmao

Harry at one point came groaning and complaining to you abt Cedric bothering him abt the egg problem, and u went ahead and gave it to him

Finally the next task was here, something abt rescuing smth underwater that mattered to each of the champions

u were immediately on ur guard when Dumbledore called u and 3 other seemingly random ppl to ur office (but u began to connect the dots after realizing one of them was the little sister of the Fontai- French Champion)

only to deflect the spell that would've knocked u out, and instead pretend to be knocked out

u obv kept ur Vision on u at all times, as always, and realized what was happening as the teachers levitated u all out to the lake

Snape snapped about being the one in charge of you, (and lowkey told u he knew u were awake, did he sound a little,, proud?? no, not Snape surely of all ppl)

Viktor did end up fishing you out, which he said u “looked like a very unhappy drenched old tom cat” while swimming to shore, (u awkwardly pat him on the back for thinking ur the best part of Hogwarts, and then smacked him for getting u kidnapped to go into a freezing lake)

and u also ended up helping Viktor rescue the other girl left behind, and froze some of the mermaids’ tails in the water for their trouble

Fleur was so grateful that she came to hunt you (and Viktor too at the time) for helping her and her sister that she came to thank u two again while at the library

which then led to her sometimes hanging around ur table at the library (everyone avoids it like the plague initially bc of you, but now youve got a gaggle of wizards rotating out all the time, like the younger years Harry/Hermione/Ron, Viktor, and now Fleur)

by the time the third trial rolls around, youve taken to bullying the prissy blonde brat a year below you to keep him from not only bothering Harry and Hermione, but also ur own peace and quiet

The other Slytherins are beginning to warm up to you, or at least not actively ignore you, since you’ve been hanging around Viktor Krum, along with gaining favor from Snape more obviously (he’d plopped a singular towel in ur lap after getting out of the lake, and u might as well have “Snape’s Favorite” written across ur forehead for all that means)

(also some of them may or may not find u roasting the annoying blonde bully kid amusing too)

it isn't until u see the creepy retired Aura (or whatever they call their knights) DA professor milling about the castle more, nearer the Gryffindor tower, that you begin to warn Harry to spread the word among his little lion club to not travel alone, esp in the evenings

(u don't like how his weird rolling blue eye looks thru you, it reminds u of Dumbledore)

by the time the third trial is finally announced, you have ur sights set on that weird old man, and end up following him to his classroom at one point,

in which he cracks open a rattling trunk, tosses some food in, and seems to have definitely stolen what you assume to be the Triwizard trophy

he casts a spell on it, and you put on that same invisibiltiy amulet from alchemy to better follow him, and watch him sneak into Dumbledore’s office to return the trophy

(You break the “portkey” spell you find on it)

(you also leave a note behind on the headmaster’s desk to look into a trunk in the new DA professor’s classroom storage, and to be more careful hiring the next one.)

Harry somehow gets sucked into the maze you find out, and you end up sneaking in to save him, using your sword and Cryo Vision to battle him out

(finally, Archons, you didnt realize how much you'd miss fighting monsters)

Aurors descend upon Hogwarts, only just after the trial ends, and Viktor wins (you trained him too well for him to not, and may or may not have viciously sparred with him a little too much for him to not be a little afraid of the consequences of losing after you helped him so much lol)

Just as Harry is taken in by Dumbledore for questioning of how he got trapped in the maze, he runs back to nearly squeeze the life out of you in a hug, he tells you thanks for helping him again (and forced u to promise to teach him sword fighting or “ice magic”)

Then, surprisingly, the entirety of Durmstrang (and some Slytherins??) haul you up into the air with Viktor to celebrate his victory

(You can see Snape snickering at ur misery in the air)

Viktor and Fleur stay penpals, and the “golden trio” (more like “gryffindor triplets”) sticks around your library table

and you think you could start to get used to this, and Harry, Hermione, and Snape had gotten you a Yule/winter gift

(what’s Christmas. and why is everyone obsessed with decorating trees??)

…that is until Hermione looks over your shoulder one day at your usual reading table, and points to a book you’ve chosen for research,

saying “if you need to make a portal somewhere, that’s the book you should be looking in.”

☆

i hope you liked it!! and that it wasn't too much of a clusterfuck/chaos that was barely readable 😅

again, thanks for being patient with me, and here's finally ur payment for dealing with my ass lmao

Happy late new year!!

Safe Travels Kirarisastay,

💀♒

If you wanna join a taglist, DM me what for! "Pspspsss, please tag me for [All SAGAU posts, Only SAGAU Language AUs, diff fandom, etc.]!"

(If you ever wanna drop, just DM me! "No more taglists/[specifically this AU/fandom] please!")

@karmawonders / @0rah-s / @randomnatics / @glxssynarvi / @nexylaza / @genshin-impacts-me / @wholesomey-artist / @thedevioussmirk / @the-dumber-scaramouche / @chocogi / @fallen-starr / @areaderofbooks / @devilangel657 / @esthelily / @justinsomniachild / @nanithefuck

If your tag didnt work, idk why!!

Maybe make sure your a "searchable blog", or make sure u didnt give me a side blog?

(Tumblr is against tagging/DMing side blogs, only main blogs usually can)

#genshin impact crossover #harry potter crossover #Genshin x Harry Potter crossover #Genshin x HP AU #genshin harry potter crossover #genshin isekai #genshin imagines #harry potter imagines #hp imagines #platonic #fem reader #happy late new year kiraisastay!! :)

197 notes · View notes

illdowhatiwantthanks · 1 month

Text

Emily Prentiss x Reader Headcanons

Mostly SFW, but a few lil spicy ones throughout (below the line).

Chews on pens/pencils when she's anxious or deep in thought and it's inexplicably hot.

Has a glass of very nice, very expensive red wine every night.

Fluent in Arabic, French, Spanish, and Italian. Passable in Russian.

Seems quiet and mysterious at first but is actually just a huge dork.

Breaks down crying every time before starting her period and will say, "I'm sorry, I don't know why I'm so emotional today," and you're like... "Babe, don't you start tomorrow?"

Usually a no-strings-attached-sex kind of person, mostly because relationships are hard with her job. You're the exception.

Will fold like a wet napkin for nice chocolate.

Notorious for ghosting lol. Sometimes even used a fake name. A bad habit from her undercover days.

Not subtle at all when coming on to you. Pretty much asked you for a date out of the blue.

Loves that you can talk about the deep, dark stuff, but can also make her laugh like no one else.

If for any reason you wake up in the night–stomachache, nightmare, scary storm–she is up with you. She'll claim she can't sleep either, but really she just wants to hold you and make sure you get back to sleep okay.

Watches you breathe at night. She finds it deeply comforting.

Takes you once a year to her grandfather’s cottage in the French Alps, where she spent a lot of time growing up.

Grew up Catholic. She’s not religious anymore, but sometimes she still likes to listen to old hymns and chants, like they had at the mass she and her mom attended in Italy.

Opens every door for you always. In fact, she’ll be hurt if you don’t let her open the door.

An incredibly good listener. She loves hearing about your day, no matter how mundane it was, because her days are usually filled with the darkest, most horrific things.

Has two tattoos. (1) On her ankle. A word from the Qur’an (لِّتَسۡكُنُو��ۤ) that roughly translates to “that you may find tranquility.” She got it in Italy when she started to realize she liked girls, because girls were the only people in whom she ever found tranquility. (2) On her hip. A small asterisk a la Kurt Vonnegut.

Insanely protective. She will not let anyone touch you, say anything to you, even look at you with nefarious intentions.

Has a little note on her phone where she writes down your favorite things–takeout, flowers, ice cream flavors, the brand of tampons you use–so she'll always remember.

“Call me when you get there.” Has to know where you are at all times. You gave up arguing and just constantly have your phone location shared with her. It’d be suffocating except that, given her job, it makes sense.

Loves that you are so independent. She’s watched too many BAU relationships fall apart because their partner was frustrated with the demanding BAU work schedule. You don’t really mind. Of course, you miss her, but you also really like your alone time, so things balance out nicely.

Puzzle fiend. There’s almost always a puzzle going on the coffee table.

Queen of leaving people on read. It’s nothing personal, it’s just that texts usually fall by the wayside when she’s in the field.

Secretly loves it so much when you brag about her. She’ll act all embarrassed about it, but it means a lot that you’re proud of her.

A hipster in the sense that if something is popular, she automatically decides she doesn’t like it. You make fun of her a lot for this.

Falls in love with you every time she notices one of your little gestures–having a second go-bag packed and ready at all times, doing the laundry, packing little granola bars in her purse because you know she forgets to stop for lunch, returning books to the library for her, etc.

Incredibly stubborn. Thankfully, you are, too, so you’re well-matched. On the downside, sometimes it takes forever to make a decision because neither of you are willing to back down.

Swears like a sailor when she’s not at work.

Kind of quiet with other people, but will talk with you late into the night, until you fall asleep. You love that you get to fall asleep to her voice.

Touches you like you’re made of gold, like you were made to be cherished and held on to.

Cheek/nose/forehead kisses. all. the. time.

Kisses you good morning and good night, every time, no matter when she gets home or when she leaves.

You would never guess it, but she lives for gossip. She doesn’t want to be part of the drama, but she sure as hell wants to know about it.

Drives her wild (in bed and out) that you are 100% hers. It is not in your nature to cheat, you are wholly devoted to your person, and she is over the moon that she’s that person.

Acts like a top, is a top.

Can drink coffee at midnight and be conked out twenty minutes later.

After a particularly hard case, she’ll come home and want to just hold you really tight against her chest, sometimes for an hour or more. You always let her.

Big spoon, always. She likes to feel like she’s keeping you safe.

Favorite food is the sweet potato burrito from Muchas Gracias, but they only have them at lunch and she is never in DC at lunchtime, so sometimes you go buy her one and pack it for her for lunch the next day. It makes her day every time.

Honestly it’s a struggle when you have to get up before her because she has you in a ninja death grip that is almost impossible to get out of.

Her feet are always cold, so she has a huge collection of fuzzy socks.

Movie buff. Has a giant checklist of all the Oscar noms during awards season, and you watch one almost every night she’s home.

Loves to shower with you. You will get clean, but you’ll get fucked first.

A wizard with a wand (iykwim).

She still gets butterflies when you hold hands.

#emily prentiss #emily prentiss x reader #criminal minds #emily prentiss fanfic #criminal minds fanfic #emily prentiss hcs #emily prentiss headcanons #criminal minds headcanons #criminal minds hcs

102 notes · View notes

nicoline1998enilocin · 6 months

Text

Fluffcember Day 5 | Forever yours

Pairing | Best friend!Steve Rogers x Best friend!Avenger!Fem!Reader

Word count | 2K

Summary | Anyone close to Steve knows he has two love languages. One being physical touch, the other being small presents. Steve never fails to surprise you when he gifts you something that you only spoke about once in a throwaway comment, and it makes you appreciate him even more than you already did.

Warning(s) | None.

A/n | This one shot is written for day 5 of my Fluffcember 2023 Challenge. In all honesty, I've always had the feelings that giving gifts would be Steve's love language right alongside physical touch, and I'm happy to say I could highlight both of these in this fic! This was such a sweet prompt and I loved writing this 🎄

A/n 2.0 | Thank you to @buckys-wintersoldier for proofreading this for me on such short notice, because you are an absolute lifesaver! Thank you for all your love and support! 🖤 I also want to thank @ccbsrmsf1 for giving me this idea, because this fic would not have existed without it!

Banners: @vase-of-lilies | Divider: @firefly-graphics | GIF: Owner

Main Masterlist | Steve Rogers Masterlist

It's been almost five years since you joined the Avengers, and during that time, you have built an inseparable bond with each of them. However, none of them are as strong as your one with Steve.

From the moment you two laid eyes on one another, there was an unspoken, undeniable connection, and this was very obvious to everyone except the two of you.

Neither of you wanted to admit it, but your love for one another goes deeper than just friends. You don't want to admit it, though, because you're both scared to lose your friendship and risk your position as an Avenger.

But lately, Nat has noticed that something's been off with Steve, and after the last mission all three of you went on together, she decides to go and see what's going on with him.

''You still haven't told her how you feel, have you?'' she asks outright. Steve snaps his head towards Nat, and a bright red flush creeps over his face, neck, and chest out of pure embarrassment.

''Would you shut up?!'' he hisses to her, but she's not letting up.

''No, Steve, I will not shut up. We were almost killed because you can't seem to keep your head on straight every time she's near, and I'm sick of it. I'm not dying over a silly crush,'' she spits the words at him.

''S not a silly crush,'' Steve says with a pout like a small boy, but Nat isn't having any of it.

''Either tell her how you feel, or I will do it because I am sick of it, Rogers. I'm not putting my life on the line for you two if this continues. We both know she won't come onto you because you're her superior; if you want anything to change, you know just as well as I do that it will have to come from you.''

Nat's dangerously close to Steve now, and even though he's towering over her, he's impressed and a little afraid of the former Russian spy.

''Fine,'' he grits out through his teeth. ''But I'm going to need help.''

And with that, Steve and Nat are developing a plan that will surely blow you away. It will require some planning on Steve's part, but he's sure you will love it.

Over the next month, he is busy preparing to buy 24 small gifts ranging from books he's heard you talk about countless times to some make-up items you love, and from your favorite sweets to some baking supplies since you love to bake in your time off.

Once he has everything ready, he spends most of his time wrapping all the presents to the best of his abilities, and it's fair to say he tried his hardest, but wrapping isn't one of his strong suits.

Once December 1st hits, Steve is taking you out for lunch, which will be the perfect moment to give you your first present. It's small, but Steve wanted to start with something representing your friendship.

''I have something for you,'' Steve says just after the waiter leaves to take your lunch orders; he grabs the square box from his pocket and hands it to you.

''Really? You didn't have to do that!'' you say with a shy smile, but you also know that giving gifts is one of Steve's love languages, along with physical touch.

You tear the wrapping paper off, and it reveals a square, flat box, and it instantly piques your curiosity.

When you lift the lid off the box, it reveals a necklace with a small copy of his shield, making you chuckle when you look at it.

''Did you take me out to lunch to give me this? You could have just given this to me at the Compound, you know?'' but Steve shrugs in response.

''I wanted to give this to you without everyone being on our case since this means a lot to me.'' The words ''just like you'' were unspoken between you.

You pick up the necklace to enjoy it from every angle, and when you look at the back, you find an inscription on the back of the shield. In small letters you recognize as his handwriting, it says 'Forever yours.' The words that have come to mean so much for both of you.

''Now I feel bad I don't have anything for you,'' you say with a slight pout, clutching the necklace to your chest as you fight off the tears.

''I thought about that, and I found the perfect solution,'' he tells you as he fishes his dog tags from his shirt, showing that there are now three instead of the usual two.

He takes them off his neck and hands them to you, and you look at the new addition, which has the same inscription as yours, but instead of his handwriting, you see yours.

Every last word you want to say has officially left your brain, and instead, you let the tears you were fighting earlier escape, though Steve quickly wipes them away.

''Hey, are you okay?'' he asks, and you nod as you let out a breathy chuckle, trying to compose yourself as you're holding the metal of both your necklace and Steve's tags.

''Thank you,'' you whisper to him before handing back his tags and putting the necklace back in its box, not wanting to lose it or break it. You'll save it for a special moment, for the right moment.

The rest of the days, you are away on a mission, and Steve is a little upset that he can't give you your presents in person, so instead, he decides to leave them in your room, one present for every day that you're gone.

Wrapped books go on your bookshelf, wrapped pieces of make-up go into your bathroom, wrapped baking supplies go on your desk, and the biggest one, for December 24th, goes on your bed.

It's nearly 3 AM on Christmas Day when you arrive back at the Compound utterly exhausted from your mission, but before you can let yourself fall onto your bed, you find a present on your mattress, with a little note attached.

Merry Christmas

~ Steve

He wanted to give it to you in person yesterday evening, but sadly, you couldn't make it, much to Steve's dismay. However, that didn't stop him from giving it to you.

''Oh, Steve...'' you sigh softly as you sit on the bed where your present was. The note is put to the side, and you turn over the item in your hands so you can carefully take the wrapping paper off.

It lands on the floor without a single sound, and when you turn over the item, you can finally see it's a photo album. On the front is a photo with you and all the other Avengers from the first day you were officially part of the team.

The book is made from sturdy, red leather, and when you open it, you see lots of photos, either selfies from you and Steve, but also more candid photos from you when you're baking, a few of Steve and other Avengers, but there's one page blank.

The pages have little stories written; the last one says ''Forever yours'', but no photo. You carefully close the book and put it together with the note before getting up, not bothering to change out of your tactical gear before making your way to Steve's room.

With a soft knock, you patiently wait for him to open the door, and you don't have to wait long. Steve waited for your arrival while he patiently drew in his room, listening to music from the 40s.

As soon as he opens the door, you fling your arms around his waist, and your cheek is pressed against his chest as you hold him tight, not needing to say a single word. He knows you've found the photo album.

''Steve-'' is all you can say before he stops you.

''Go out to dinner with me tonight, please. I'll make this Christmas one never to forget,'' he tells you, and you nod in response. He places a soft, lingering kiss on your forehead, his hands on your cheeks.

He wants to kiss you the way you deserve, love you the way you should be loved, and touch you the way he craves to touch you. But he has to have more patience because, hopefully, this will all change after dinner.

''Okay,'' you whisper before pulling away and giving him a reassuring smile. With that, you return to your room and get ready to catch up on some much-needed sleep.

Steve has told you to be ready at 19:00 so you can make it to your reservation at 19:30, though he didn't tell you where you would be going.

You opted for a blue velvet dress with a waterfall neckline, white heels, and silver jewelry. Your hair is put in an elegant bun, and your make-up is simple because you don't want to take away from the beauty of the dress.

To finish the entire look, you put on the necklace Steve gave you before your mission, and the outfit is complete.

Precisely on time, you're done, and Steve is at your door, ready to pick you up for dinner, and the butterflies in your stomach are going wild.

You open your door and see Steve in a black suit, a crisp white shirt underneath, and the top three buttons undone. His blond hair is styled beautifully, and he looks like an angel.

With a lopsided grin, he takes in your appearance, and you can't help but flush a little under his gaze as he takes in your outfit. His eyes stop at the necklace, and you're glad you saved it for the right moment.

''Wow...'' he whispers as he extends his hand to guide you to the car, ready for your dinner reservation. The other Avengers are having a Christmas dinner together, and after lots of compliments on your outfit, you're finally ready to go.

''Have fun, you two! And don't come home before midnight!'' Nat jokes, and you can't help but laugh loud at her comment. That is when it finally clicks: this is all her doing.

He has opted to take you to a beautiful Italian-style restaurant since pasta is one of your favorite dishes, and you always enjoy the atmosphere with the soft music in the background.

''Thank you for taking me here tonight, Steve. This is already the most amazing Christmas I have ever had in my entire life,'' you tell him, and that's when the nerves boil up in Steve's stomach.

''I'm glad you agreed to come here with me tonight because I've wanted to tell you something, which I probably should have told you ages ago,'' he starts, reaching for your hands.

You put them in his and you look up at him curiously, and you know where this is heading, your answer ready to go once the last word leaves his mouth.

''I'm in love with you and have been for as long as I can remember. The connection I feel with you is worth more than anything in this world, and I can't keep it to myself any longer. So I want to ask you to be my girlfriend if you have me.''

''Yes, Steve. Nothing in this world would make me happier than to be your girlfriend,'' you say, and Steve stands up, pulling you with him so he can finally kiss you the way you deserve, love you the way you should be loved, and touch you the way he craves to touch you.

''And I'm in love with you too, Steve. I'm glad Nat finally talked some sense into you,'' you tell him with a chuckle before giving him one more peck on his lips.

That night, you and Steve had a beautiful photo taken in front of a Christmas tree, and of course, it had to be one where you were kissing. This will be the perfect addition to the photo album because it will show the beginning of the rest of your lives together.

#fluffcember 2023 #anyfandomfluffbingo #affbingo #marvel fanfiction #steve rogers #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x female reader #steve rogers fluff #captain america #captain america x y/n #captain america x reader #captain america x female reader #captain america fluff

190 notes · View notes

dizzy-after-dark · 5 months

Text

Cauterized | Steve Rogers

BOOM MIC DROP: SMUT FOR THE END OF THE YEAR! Y'all didn't think I would not post once this year, did you. Well, here it is. I TRIED! Mwah; see you in 2024!

Tags: Angst (not really but yeah), SMUT, fluff

Pairing: Nomad!Steve Rogers x F!Reader (Third Person)

Notes: UHHHHH 18+ BUCKOS; this is a continuation of Ignorant, which is the first part and angsty as FUCK but a personal fave of mine if I do say so myself; been really thinking about finishing my requests from over a year ago for Dinner At Dizzy's on my other account, @dizzydancingdreamer (masterlist linked if you're feeling peckish)

Warnings (what to expect, ig): oral (f recieving), fingering, sex (???), uhhhm lack of descriptive writing from a rusty author, sappiness, swearing, bad metaphors, shower sex, alcohol consumption (BARELY), size kink, over-use of the word "Stevie"

Word Count: 4.6k

She pushes the door closed, turning the shower on lazily. Her muscles ache as she twists the knob all the way to the left. Somewhere, sometime she was told about cauterization. You can seal wounds closed with fire— forcibly fuse the skin back together. She has no cuts. Nothing to fuse. And only hot water. However, maybe stepping into the scalding stream might fix the part of her brain that keeps replaying it all, over and over.

Baby I—

If anything, it might numb her. She would take that too right now. Hence the bottle on the counter, partially drunk and already open. She takes the first swig, the liquid like fuel to the inferno raging in her stomach, burning the rest of her in the process. The taste is acrid— she’s never been much of a drinker. She just wants to forget it all. Setting it down with a clunk, she strips out of grimey shirt, letting it puddle at her feet.

Looking at the material, which at one point was a stark white but will now forever be a dingy gray, she laughs. Not really but, yeah, kind of— one of those half amused huffs, anyway. A pity laugh, for the state of her life. That shirt is practically trash. Even if she had the time, energy, or resources to wash it, there’s no way it’ll ever be the same.

She should just throw it out.

Is she even talking about the shirt anymore?

She kicks it into the corner, hands falling to the button of her jeans, swollen knuckles screaming as she fails a few times to push the little metal circle through the loop.

“Goddamnit,” she mutters to herself, and to the ghosts, and the spider she saw in the corner when she came in but didn’t have the heart to make the latter as well.

She’s already made too many ghosts.

“I, uh, I can help?”

None of those ghosts have ever answered before, though.

Whirling around, fists balling in front of her face, she readies herself in less than a breaths time to send said ghost straight back to the grave—

“Woah, easy there, baby—”

Only to find Steve, his baby blues wide and a tad panicked but his hand nevertheless peeking through the crack of the door, reaching for her. Mind glazing over with confusion and, well, a fair bit of something russian and label-less, she blinks up at him and the damn door. She closed that— she remembers closing it… right?

Her eyes flick down and the fire in her belly kindles a little more.

“Are you kidding me?” She groans, the exhaustion an unwelcome guest in the cavern of her chest.

His boot, right there in the doorway, holding the measly wooden traitor open. She never heard the damn click. Didn’t even bother to listen for it. Rookie mistake, honestly. She can’t even be mad, really.

“Please just let me help.” Steve pushes past the door, both arms now extended towards her, but he doesn’t touch her yet.

He’s waiting. She stays silent. Partly because she has no idea what to say— or what she wants— and partly because he hates it. He absolutely, agonizingly hates when she gives him the silent treatment. She watches his jaw tick, lips pressing together until they go white, and there’s a sick part of her that relishes in the cool satisfaction rushing down her spine.

You made me like this.

But there’s also a part of her that mourns with him when he clears his throat, crystal eyes flooding over, liquid and glassy, and lowers his arms slightly. Not all the way. He’s hopeful, maybe. America’s sweetheart is always hopeful, that’s one of the things she fell in love with him for.

That’s still Steve— her Steve.

“I know—” Steve swallows, “I messed up. I just— you’re hurt, baby. Lemme’ help.”

She huffs— why is it so fucking complicated? Why can’t they just be normal?

She is hurt. Nothing needs cauterizing but there’s no denying her mottled skin, blue-ish under the crappy motel bathroom lights. Her hands throb, joints screaming at her— when she turns to the mirror, she almost gags at the slight bald patch behind her right ear— fuck, that one had really stung. Absolutely ridiculous the way some people fight these days.

Her silence is deafening.

She wants to sob. It’s right there, in the hollow of her throat— she wants to scream. Maybe not at him but in general. She used to live in a penthouse, with all her friends, and the love of her life. Now what? She used to get hurt like this back then too but now it feels purposeless— what are they even doing this for if they have nothing. Have no one. It made sense when she still had him.

Meeting his gaze in the mirror— disappearing a bit into fogged up glass but there regardless— she still has him. Kind of. But she still doesn’t say anything when she turns back to face him. The frown carved into her face feels vile— deep and disgusting and entirely real— but she can’t make it go away. She can’t stop the sniffle, either. Why can’t she just tell him she misses him?

“Fuck.”

It’s mumbled under his breath. The Captain America, standing in some rundown wreck of a place off some lonely highway, is swearing. Because of her. Is this hell? It feels like hell.

But, no, it can’t be, because his hands are so, so gentle as they cup her cheeks, thumbs softly dancing over the bruises, half assessing, half trying. Trying to do what, she doesn’t know. Wipe them away? Commit them to memory? She leans into his touch regardless, conceding ever so slightly. She won’t say it, but he can help. There isn’t a universe in which she would truly deny him.

The first tear that falls isn’t hers, but his, landing on her forehead right before he buries his face in her hair, wrapping those supersoldier arms around her, trying and, well, failing not to crush her in the process. The tenderness in her broken body is worth it, though, because he smells like home, even if tinged with gunpowder and war.

“I am so sorry—” he whispers, heartbeat erratic under her ear, chest heaving for breath— “I am so sorry I brought this on you. You’re hurt and it’s my fault.”

Complicated. She fists his t-shirt as hard as she can— fists in until her hands go numb. It’s not fair how complicated it has to be for them.

Steve didn’t throw her into the fight, didn’t slam his fist into her eye, or rip her hair out by the handful. Steve didn’t even make her come with him when he left; that was entirely her choice. But he did lose his mind a little bit. Power tripped a little too hard. Focused so much on keeping them all safe that he missed the part where he was just supposed to hug her— and that’s what sucked most— but he is now, right?

That has to count for something?

He pulls back and her fingers tighten, steeling, tensing. He can’t go, even if she isn’t sure what they are anymore.

The agony in his eyes when he draws the line from her balled fists holding on for dear fucking life to her own, misty gaze is indescribable. “Baby I don’t know how to fix this. I want to, I—” he clears his throat again and her frown carves even further into her skin, eyebrows drawing together— “I want to so fucking bad.”

He plants his forehead against hers and it aches, the warmth of his skin. “I don’t want to make it worse. I need you to tell me how to help.”

There’s a stinging in her throat where the words simply don’t manifest. What the fuck is she supposed to say? Nothing, at all, really, because she doesn’t even know how to fix her and she’s not mad so there’s nothing to fix… but isn’t there? Isn’t there something between them that desperately needs mending? Isn’t she mad?

Is it anger?

Or is it something much more primal.

No, there are no words she can tell him. She could show him, though. Maybe that will work.

Letting his shirt go, she watches the breath catch in his chest, stuck and frantic. She knows that feeling well— that icy desperation to keep holding on no matter what. But she’s only grabbing his hands, not leaving him, and he’ll see that soon so she continues to drag him towards the stupid, little button that her useless fingers couldn’t seem to undo. In hindsight, maybe they were just waiting for him.

Realizing, his forehead is off hers quickly, eyes seeking hers. “What? I don’t—” She flattens his palms against her stomach, engulfing the button, and he breathes the last word out— “understand.”

Her brows raise, cheeks still on fire but now also burning— yes you do.

“Are you sure?” He asks but there’s a little click— the same one she hadn’t heard earlier— as his boot clad foot kicks the door properly shut, and she’s pretty sure he knows just how sure she is.

All it takes is her thumbs on his, prodding them towards her arch nemesis— damn you, Levi jeans— and the soldier is moving, not rough in his quick actions, but determined. The button is no match for Steve Rogers on a regular day, but today? Now that he has a goal? A starting place? The button may as well have disintegrated under his fingers.

Her own hands fly to his shoulders, clinging to him as he tugs the blasted jeans off her legs, trying the best she can not to topple over with the sheer force of him. Material pooling at her feet, his palms smooth so slowly back up her now bare legs, rising goosebumps in their wake. She hasn’t been touched in ages— she feels kind of like an animal waking up from hibernation, disorientated and hungry.

Grabbing at her hips suddenly, her ass is on the cool countertop before she even has the chance to get dizzy. Spreading her thighs with his own, he works on her bra next— this faded, hole ridden thing that if she wasn’t so engulfed in searing, licking desire, she’d probably be embarrassed about. But it’s gone so soon that she doesn’t have a chance and replaced instead with two, bulky hands that entirely engulf her breasts.

They squeeze her skillfully— with purpose. Thumbs swiping delicious circles around her nipples, flicking this way and that, exactly how he knows she likes it— exactly the way that should have her as a mewling heap in his hold. But she’s not— she’s contained, even as her very skin thrums alive with anticipation. Is this revenge or is it just fucking complicated?

She can’t decide so instead she bites the moan clawing at her throat into small enough pieces to swallow, all the while tuning into something dark that sparks in his ever watchful gaze.

She’s caught— he gets it now.

“Really, baby?” He muses, palming her, squeezing just hard enough to give the touch a slight bite. His tone has her feeling like a deer in his headlights— like a freight train is barrelling directly at her and there’s nowhere to go— and she squeezes her thighs around him, welcoming the collision. “You think I won’t work for it?”

She only blinks at him. Once… twice…

Her panties are dropped somewhere into the abyss, long forgotten with the rest of her clothes, and his knees thud heavily against the tiled floor. Replacing his body, his head now hovers right in front of a different button, golden hair tickling her sensitive skin as he pulls her legs over his thick shoulders. His skin is warm but not as much as his balmy breath which hits her clit, teasing her into a mess, hands curling around the edge of the counter.

Come on, Steve.

But, no, he doesn’t give in to her just yet. First, he turns to her inner thigh, sucking her skin into his mouth with bruising pressure before letting it go with a pop. He peers up— nothing. Moving to the other one, he whispers quick kisses over her sex but never lingers, only biting into her flesh once more once across her mound, teeth almost teasing a whimper from her this time but no, she’s not budging.

That doesn’t mean he isn’t driving her crazy. Inside, she screams— she craves. C’mon baby just give it to me. Outwardly, her hands drunkenly find his hair, tugging at his soft locks. Now, now, now she chants furiously.

He unseals his lips from her thigh, peering up, less dangerous and back to being her ever hopeful boyfriend— is her her boyf— He kisses her folds, spongy lips lingering a moment, rendering her blank and feverish. Angelic— he’s angelic. From under his long lashes he all but begs her, his dark eyes starving and wanting, but his hands are so soft on her hips, massaging deep into her. It’s this mixture of puppy dog pleading and a knowing of sorts— he knows she’s going to cave eventually.

How does he do that?

“Words? Please?”

She only pouts and, again, the switch flips. “Fine.”

The word is punctuated with the warm, wet stripe he licks up her center, flicking his tongue languidly over her clit. For as rushed as he’d started this mission, he’s truly never been one to speed through his meals, preferring instead to devour her slowly— expertly— tasting her thoroughly like he has all the time in the world. Meanwhile her body pulses, teetering dangerously already on the knife-sharp edge of too much and too little as he masterfully carves her out.

Her hands, which had moments ago tried to pull him closer, now use his hair as handles to keep herself from toppling off the counter when he slides her closer to him, burying his face fully into her heat. Heels digging into his back, she watches the spot where his shirt rides up intently, consumed not only by the harsh sucking on her clit but also the tanned, muscled skin peeking out and then disappearing below his own jeans, taunting her. Why hadn’t she taken it off him first?

She doesn’t have time to think much more about it though because he’s ravenous and she may as well be ice cream, sweet and sticky, melting all over him, dripping down the sides of his face and fingers as they begin prodding against her. They tease, pushing into her but not quite far enough— hard enough.

His gaze on her is overpowering— it’s deliberate.

“Y’know,” he speaks against her, the vibrations making her tense, “you can just tell me what you want ‘and I'll do it.”

Her mouth is like sandpaper— her brain, uncooperative. This push and pull is becoming lethal, the next few pokes of his tongue honey slow and spine jolting. Please— she wants to beg. She’s so empty. So, so, achingly empty. Would his fingers even be enough? At this point, it’s as though he would need to crawl into her very chest to fill her up the way she needs to be. How could her words even convey something so needy?

“Anything, baby. Whatever you want.”

They can’t, so they don’t, but for the sounds she refuses to make, he doubles in his own, moaning his frustrations right against her. If he can’t make her say anything, he damn sure is going to make her do something. That’s probably why he finally caves, pushing his fingers in to the hilt, and she was stupid to think they couldn’t fill her, the slight burn of them not at all foreign but definitely intense.

As they bury themselves in her over and over and over again, she bucks against his hand, chasing the start of a little ball of electricity growing in the pit of her stomach, getting higher and higher with every twist of his fingers. Combined with the incessant flick of his tongue— she’s a goner. Stifling the moan, her teeth find home in her lip, biting so hard her mouth gains a slight tang that excites her even more. What’s she even doing?

Wouldn’t it be more fun if she just let loose? Isn’t that what’s been missing the whole time? The fun?

When she sees the glint in his piercing stare— impish despite everything they’ve been through— she gets it. It’s hopeless— she is and they are but they’re together and the fun isn’t gone— she’s done. He earned it.

“Stevie—” she finally cries, animalistic; it doesn’t sound like his name but he must know it is because, even with the intense throbbing consuming her entire body, she can feel his shoulders soften under her thighs— “please don’t stop, I’m so close!”

“That’s it baby,” he coos against her clit, voice raw, compliant as he continues to pump his fingers in time to her squirming, “that’s my girl. I missed that pretty voice of yours.”

At what point the first orgasm turns into a second, she isn’t sure. It’s all one big blur of her whiny moans, wanton and liquid body, and his hushed prayers against her flushed skin, tongue lapping relentlessly against her. More baby; I know you can give me more. She doesn’t so much hear them as she does become them, absorbing them into her skin. That’s it angel— so good, so good for me.

She can feel him drinking in her mumbled, jagged noises, some words but others mere syllables, coaxed out of her by tongue and fingers all the same. Steve— honey— mmph, fuck, right there— oh my— the words pour out now, dam broken beyond repair, and for some reason, or maybe a lack thereof, it spurs her on even more, a freed woman if ever there was one—

“Oh my god, Stevie!”

It’s maddening— he’s maddening.

He’s relentless.

It isn’t until she yanks his still-eager mouth away from her, stomach iron-tense from way too much overstimulation, does he slowly draw his hand reluctantly back from her shuddering body. His other arm unwinds from where it’s been snaked around her knee, anchoring her to him throughout the duration of his worship. Now pushing him upright, holding him just near enough to where she can hear his labored breaths but not feel them, she shivers, cold as ice without his heat.

He stares down at her, unmoving, and her heart jumps in her chest. She doesn’t understand— he’s just standing there while she shudders, breathless. His shirt is stretched, no doubt from her pulling at it, and in noticing the damage she remembers how she’s completely naked and he’s completely not. Exposed doesn’t even begin to touch how she feels.

She wraps her arms around her chest, knees drawing up to tuck under her chin. “Steve?”

She’d forgotten what it felt like to constantly have him next to her— to have his furnace like warmth melting into her skin almost every minute. Now that she’s had her first real taste of him again, she’s de-acclimated to being alone. She needs him.

“C’mere,” she begs, shaking and a bit confused, why isn’t he touching her still, “please, Stevie, come back.”

When her fingers finally swipe against his shirt, barely snagging it, he flinches, coming back to her. “Sorry baby, I didn’t mean—”

She flings herself at him, heart off kilter and erratic in her chest as her lips press against his, swallowing his apologies and hoping beyond anything else that he just catches her, like he always does. He does, kissing her back fervently— reverently. His tongue, tinted with her essence, scoops into her mouth the same way he had been between her thighs. She welcomes the way he takes charge, knowing he holds her against him with every ounce of strength he has.

“—’m sorry,” he pants into her mouth, clearly not satisfied with the success of her attack, “so, so sorry baby.”

He repeats the words deliriously. Presses them into her hair and against her temple, on her chin and both her cheeks. He especially feeds them to her, word for word, against her lips, soft at first and then rough, frenzied. He’s not talking about right now. He’s still back in that apartment; the fallen angel amongst the rubble, wings too broken to just leave it.

It’s not complicated. And it’s not revenge, because she could never make him feel worse than he already does, nor would she want to. So, in between kisses and apologies, she answers.

“I know, Stevie.”

“It’s ok— we’re ok, Stevie.”

“Steve, stop— I love you!”

He stops. He sets her down, bare feet planting unsteady against the ground. He steps back. What?

“Stevie?” She questions, already moving forward, but his arms, sweeping over his head, towing his shirt up and off, halt her in her tracks.

Oh.

This time, when she says his name it's only a breathy moan, fingers searching for his belt loops and hooking him towards her. In the time it takes for her hands to find the button— this one, thankfully, popping open immediately— there must be a god somewhere who didn’t abandon them in the rubble— he’s back on her, one hand carefully threading through her hair, dragging her mouth back to his, while the other pushes the rest of his clothes to the ground.

“I love you, I love— ah, fuck,” he hisses as her hand wraps around him, thumb brushing over his velvety tip.

For the first time, she smiles against his mouth, calm. “Language, Rogers.”

He pulls back, one neat eyebrow flicked up, but there’s humor in his eyes— no more tension. No more worry. Just fun. He leans down, nuzzling his chin down the side of her face, breath fanning her ear. Her hand stutters as it tugs on him, dragging up and down. He’s so hard— it’s been so damn long.

“Thought I was Stevie, baby?” It’s an absent minded tease, blush lips parted even after the fact, glued to the way she touches him.

In turn she watches his face, crowned in a mussed up halo of gold, some of which sticks to his forehead but most falling at every which angle, a product of her thighs sealing themselves around him. She can’t say that she’s never seen him this disheveled but she’ll never get used to it. He’s perfect— she makes him so messy.

Clearly, she hadn’t been the only one enjoying herself, though, if the heaviness of him between her fingers, rutting into her palm is anything to go by. She squeezes harder, testing something, and he groans something almost inhuman against her neck. Guttural. He’s so close already. It fuels her like nothing else, tickling the part of her that just wants to please. She’s making reparations, too. Speeding up, she works him faster. Come on, honey.

“Stevie—” she echoes and the next thing she knows, he’s pulling her off him, pushing her towards the steam which billows out from behind the curtain.

From the moment her feet touch the warm, wet surface of the shower floor, everything is a blur. The water sprays over her harshly, but only for a moment, before he overpowers it with his own, massive body, just as searing against her skin. She registers the slick splat of her back against the wall, a grunt— missed this, baby, and her own feral howl as he slams into her. There’s no waiting, no tiptoeing, only his cock sealing them together furiously once more.

One of her legs is hiked up impossibly far, hinging near his hip where his hand crushes her to him. The other leg holds her up— barely— heel raised, toes splaying for grip as she reaches higher. He’s just so big— so tall and so thick. So impossible to adequately open herself to without him fully lifting her but she wants to try so she does her best to meet his brutal pace, clinging around his neck desperately.

If his fingers had filled her entirely, his cock is almost unbearable. She relishes it, though, the way she can almost feel him in her damn throat with each and every drag. It’s mesmerizing, the way there’s no need for adjustment— for remembering. He knows her body like it’s his own and it makes her drool with pleasure.

The slapping of their skin together proves to be louder than the rush of the water, but not more so than Steve whose mouth is working over time, ladeling praises directly into her ear, soaked, stubbly chin grating deliciously against her temple.

“You look so pretty baby,” he hums, staring mesmerized at their bodies to where he slips in and out of her, “ look at you taking me so well.”

And she does.

It’s a lewd notion, the way she can see exactly where he is inside her by the way her belly ripples with his plunges, but one that makes her gasp nonetheless, spasming around him which is also visible to both of them. Loosening one of her hands from its vice grip on his shoulder, he places it on the exact spot, urging her to feel just how big he is. With every sloppy push and pull, she does feel it, and it sends her reeling.

“See that?” He rasps, and she can only nod, mouth agape enough for some of the water falling off his hair to drip into it.

She swallows it, tongue somehow so, so dry despite everything. Her nerves are on fire, everything so much slower than it should be.

The agonizing pull of his hand on hers, dragging her own fingers under his to toy with her clit.

The little circles that take hours to complete but nurture the current running through her veins regardless.

The fucking torturous in and out of his cock— taunting her, languidly pounding her for what feels like an eternity— she can’t think. She’s in the water but she feels under it, too, foggy and pent up. She just wants to cum—

“Fuck, baby, I’m gonna—”

“—Stevie!”

She breaks through the sluggish pleasure into electric and all consuming waves, head falling against the wall as his hips stutter against hers, pumping once, then twice, before falling still. Each time, she clenches harder, babbling something gritty and foul and incomprehensible. Something along the lines of holy fucking shit baby but its blurred with searing, pulsing pleasure.

There’s stars behind her eyes and steam in her nose as he falls against her chest, sopping hair tickling her hypersensitive skin. Him pulling feels like what two exposed wires touching must— all sparky and hot. It’s too much.

“Mmm, careful baby,” she mumbles and he chuckles.

“Of course.”

The rest is truly a lull. Steve doesn’t bother gathering their clothes, only her, carrying her limp body to the bed and carefully setting her under the covers, dripping and all, before joining her. If she weren’t so sleepy, she would have scolded him. But she is and her eyes are refusing to stay open, let alone give him that look. It’s all she can do = to seek his warm skin once more, slithering against his body and rooting herself there.

Cauterized, or something like it.

#Steve Rogers smut #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers #marvel smut #MCU smut #Avengers smut #dizzy is BACK #did you miss me?

147 notes · View notes

meaeris · 1 year

Text

beyond all expectations

pairing: sebastian sallow x f.mc

genres: fluff, (a little) angst

summary: in which the protagonist is practicing to become an animagus and things, contrary to her expectations, go exactly as planned. more or less.

warnings: takes place one year later. spoiler for sebastian's quest. mention of character's death. hurt/trauma. Mc has a random name because i don't like using y/n or 2nd pov.

A.N. hi! i don't usually write fanfictions since english is not my first language, but i had this cute scenario in mind and had to write it down, so forgive some mistakes and inaccuracies. this is a repost from ao3. thank you for reading and interactions are super appreciated!

The problem was that Allie, wonder-child and proud Slytherin, had underestimated her abilities.

She didn't think for a moment that she would be able to transform so soon and, above all, she didn't think that the transformation would be so well executed that she wouldn’t be able to return to her human form.

"Don't panic" she thought, panicking.

Certainly Hogwarts couldn’t be defined as a cheap structure in terms of grandeur, yet now everything around her appeared immensely bigger and infinitely more majestic. She turned around and watched her own tail wag furiously behind her. Cats do that when they're nervous, right? She didn't know. She wasn't a cat expert whatsoever, for the only ones she had to deal with were the ones that roamed the castle. And now, herself.

A wave of delusion swept over her. It couldn't have been worse. Of all the animals she could turn into, a cat? Such a common animal? Her Slytherin pride was more than slightly hurt. Peering through some reflective surfaces, she managed to take a glimpse of her appearances: short gray fur, slender paws and deep aquamarine eyes. She wasn't just some common breed, at least. What was it called? A russian blue? Perhaps. Although there weren't traces of blue whatsoever.

The girl-prodigy (that's how some people called her) tried and retried several times to return to her normal form. She failed. A Slytherin who couldn't revert back a spell? What would her housemates say? What would her professors say? And after everything she had accomplished the year before! Defeated goblins, dragons, dark wizards… yet now the obstacle was herself.

She sneaked out of the girls' bathroom where she had been practicing until a few minutes ago and attempted to interact with the other students. Maybe someone would recognize her?

Misplaced hopes. Everyone mistook her for an ordinary cat, one of the many that occupied the school. Only a tiny less friendly, as she hissed and quickly sprang away whenever someone tried to pet her.

"Merlin's beard, why is this castle so big?!" she thought more and more irritated. She had no idea what to do. The worst thing? She could involuntarily transform back any time and end up naked in the corridors. In front of everyone. No. She would rather remain a cat forever.

"Of course, the wand! I'm an idiot, I could have brought it with me. Maybe showing it to someone will make them realize it's me."

She went back, not without getting lost a couple of times. Her sense of direction, now that she was seeing everything from a different perspective, had definitely worsened. The bathrooms were empty, and the room in which she had changed was still locked from the inside. With difficulty, she slipped again under the wooden doors and found her wand submerged by the clothes. She took the wand with her mouth, but she couldn’t manage to make it pass through the big pile of clothing. She wasn’t used to her feline body yet and everything felt like learning to walk for the first time. Her mouth felt stuck and the wand abnormally heavy. From bad to worse, no one would have noticed her clothes because from the outside it would have looked like an occupied bathroom.

She got an idea. She headed to Professor Onai's divination classroom, hoping to run into Natty. As the only Animagus she knew, the Gryffindor girl was aware of her attempts to become one. But so far every attempt had been unsuccessfull. Until that day.

She arrived at the entrance of the classroom, but realized she had forgotten an important detail: the ladder in front of her. She would have never been able to climb it, not in this form. She started meowing wildly, hoping someone would hear. It worked. Professor Onai, perhaps annoyed by that cry (which in her hindsight sounded more like a cat about to vomit), looked out from the upper entrance with a soft smile.

- You can't stay here, little one. Class is about to start. Shoo!

And that was that. The teacher disappeared and the girl (cat) stood there, looking up, as if expecting divine help. She cursed (meowing).

The lesson would last a long time, she didn't have time to wait. She had to do something.

If Natty wasn't available, there were only two options left.

She wasn't too proud of it, but in two years at Hogwarts she hadn't managed to make that many friends. Despite everything she'd done to save the school? Well... yes. But perhaps it was her fault, as she’d never been the reincarnation of friendship and affection, as much as she tried. Only Ominis Gaunt and Sebastian Sallow could define themselves as “companions”, at the moment. A direct consequence of sharing a deadly adventure that ends in tragedy. Natty and Poppy? Good company, surely, but they didn't have many occasions to meet, being from different houses and all.

It had now been a year since Sebastian's uncle died, and he still hadn't been able to forgive himself. He smiled and joked around much less than before. Everyone noticed that. Ominis, for his part, took a long time to accept things as they were, but when he realized that Sebastian needed friends, now more than ever, he decided that regret was better than anger. The three had become even more close, and they seldom left each other’s side. Although the topic was left untouched and a tense atmosphere was palpable everytime someone received a letter from their relatives.

She immediately thought of Ominis. He was the more conscientious of the two, the one with common sense, some would say, and he would have certainly uncovered her transformation if it wasn’t for a small... technical problem. He would simply hear her meowing madly and he would, rightfully so, ignore her, as he did with most of the cats. Although Sebastian admitted he caught the Gaunt boy secretly feeding them a couple of times.

And Sebastian? Well, let's just say she had been trying to avoid him lately. Not out of malice, but due to the effect that the boy's presence was having on her stomach. It wasn't a pleasant feeling, but at the same time... it scared her. She was scared that this feeling had a name. After all, who would ever consider someone like her that way? Sebastian was smart, charismatic and charming, traits that certainly didn't went unnoticed by fellow Slytherin (or not) gals. At the same time, he exuded this unapproachable aura that seemed to scare his suitors away. Although some would say it was due to his close friendship with Ominis, despite the Gaunt boy being one of the kindest people she ever met... despite his, well, mood swings. He certainly didn't deserve such a treatment just because of his family reputation.

At the moment she had no choice. Burying useless emotions inside, she knew where Sebastian was, for they roamed together so often now that she had learned their schedules. She made her way to the Defense Against the Dark Arts tower and luckily, she spotted Sebastian walking out of the classroom. She waited until he was isolated from the other students and tried to get his attention. She waddled towards him and began meowing at his legs.

"Sebastian! It's me!"

- Hello there, small one. Are you looking for attention? - said the boy, kneeling at the height of the feline. His scottish accent sounded more pronounced with her feline ears.

"NO! I mean, yes, but not in that way!"

- How precocious. Are you hungry?

"No! I mean, I kinda am now that I think about it... but that's not important now!"

She tried everything: she rolled, jumped, scratched his shoes (which caused a gasp of disappointment) and even tried to stand on two legs. All of which only contributed to the "hungry cat" image that Sebastian already had. Other than making her own head spin.

- I'm sorry, I don't have any food for you - Sebastian shook his head in amusement and started to walk away, but Allie, desperate, followed him. A few minutes later Ominis showed up, wand in hand.

- What’s going on? – he asked, probably having heard the miserable cry from afar.

- I don’t know, this cat seems to be mad at me. It's been following me since I left the classroom.

"Then ask yourself some questions!"

Ominis raised an eyebrow.

- Maybe it's hungry. Or in heat.

"OMINIS!"

The two laughed and simply left her there.

“Come back, you buffoons! Don't leave me alone!”

- Shall we go to the Undercroft? Allie should join us soon.

Of course! Only the three of them knew about that place. If she showed that she knew, somehow, maybe they would finally put two and two together. Besides, if she was late, they would get suspicious. She was never late for anything. Of course, except that time she managed to be late for her sorting ceremony, but that was a special case out of her control.

She ran away, under Sebastian's perplexed gaze, and preceded them towards the entrance to the Undercroft, a gothic clock meticulously decorated by blue and gold hues, an elegant design that recalled the starry sky.

The only positive thing about the situation was that she got there before them, thanks to her four legs.

When Sebastian noticed her, he didn't hide a surprised grin. It didn't happen often, but the freckles on the boy's face seemed to stand out even more. She liked that expression a lot and, for a second, thought it was kinda cute.

- What the...

Ominis lowered his wand.

- What are you doing here? - Sebastian remarked more and more confused.

- Did it follow us?

- I'm positive it got here before us.

-Well, it's a cat… it wouldn't surprise me if it knew this place better than we do.

"Ominis, you and your logic, shut up for once!"

Sebastian abandoned himself to a slight smirk.

- Well, I don't think a cat might blurt out anything about this place. If it wants to come, let it come.

After her meow of approval, Sebastian walked over and bent down to pick her up. Normally she would have wriggled herself free if it was anyone else. But Sebastian wasn't anyone else. She relaxed and the floor moved far from of her view, making her feel slightly dizzy. She may have been a cat, but she’d been one for less than an hour.

Sebastian snuggled her into his arms and her heart went crazy, leaping into her throat.

- It's purring - Ominis noted, hinting a smile.

- And here I thought you hated me - Sebastian joked with his typical flirty tone.

“I want to dig a hole and bury myself in.”

When this was over, she was going to obliviate anyone that knew, she thought. They crossed the rusty gate and, once inside, Sebastian left her on the ground. The poor teen (cat), still panicking and probably thinking about a spell for grave-digging, didn't move for a couple of minutes.

- It could keep us company, as long as we are careful not to cast spells on him by mistake - Sebastian suggested, taking off his robe and placing it on the ground in a corner. He took out his wand and twirled it with his wrist, as if practicing movements.

- Are you sure it’s a him?

- I don’t know.

- I've heard that females have a smaller head compared to males.

Sebastian looked closely at her, who was now sitting next to them. If any other cat saw her right now, they would have probably stayed kilometers away from her.

- I frankly can't tell... if nothing else, I almost have the impression that it can understand what we're saying.

"I do in fact, and yet you're just spouting nonsense!"

She meowed in disapproval and two heads whipped towards her.

- See? - said the brunette.

- It is kinda bizarre - Ominis confirmed, perplexed.

- Maybe it belongs to someone and it got lost. We should take it to the professors later.

"You two are definitely not Ravenclaw."

The two spoke no more. Sebastian practiced with the training dummies while Ominis read a book in braille.

She had run out of ideas. She had tried everything, and the two seemed to ask the right questions, but not enough. So she just lay there, taking everything in for once, admiring her friends. Maybe it was the new point of view, but Sebastian definitely got taller, compared to last year. Taller and sturdier, although his complexion remained the perfect mix of soft and manly features. Ominis didn't change much, but bis cheekbones were more prominent and slightly higher, framing a tad more mature face. On the other hand, she remained exactly as she's always been, if not with increased dark circles and puffiness under her eyes.

An hour later Sebastian realized something was wrong.

- She's late - he observed, leaning against a big box and taking a breath. - How many times has it happened so far?

- In two years? Never, - Ominis confirmed, - Except that time she was held by Professor Garlick for being bitten on the ear by a chomping cabbage.

- That was actually rather funny. It was the first time I saw Allie spill some tears.

At the mention of her name (and trying really hard to ignore what he’d just said), she got up and leapt at Sebastian's legs, meowing so wildly that from afar it would have sounded like someone was torturing a stray cat.

This attracted Ominis' attention, who took his hands away from the book and placed it at his feet. He was getting suspicious.

Sebastian knelt down and inquisitively looked into her light eyes. She reciprocated, but that strange feeling in her stomach didn't take long to manifest.

- Here’s the thing… - he began, tilting his head towards Ominis with his eyes half closed. - Didn't Allie say she was training to become an Animagus?

Ominis knew immediately what he was implying. - For some months, yes.

- Did she ever succeed?

- As far as I know, never.

She meowed again and spun around.

Sebastian's eyes seemed to light up for a moment.

- Could it be... is that you, Allie?

"At last! Honour your name, Mr Sallow!"

She meowed and jumped, twice.

Sebastian took his wand, pointed it at the animal and spelt "Revelio!".

Nothing happened.

Sebastian sighed. - Maybe I'm reading too much into it...

At this, before Ominis could intervene, she lost her patience and grabbed his trousers with her pointed teeth, biting his skin in the process.

- Ouch! Okay, wait, let me try again! What was the spell... I read it once in a book of transfiguration…

He thought about it for a moment, until he snapped his fingers in ecstasy. He cast a spell she had never heard before and a blue light enveloped her body. For a moment she felt nothing. Then she sensed that her body began to change. Without thinking twice, she ran over to the robe Sebastian had set down earlier and mentally thanked him for doing so.

The transformation was undone and Allie found herself with Sebastian's robe wrapped around her body.

- Finally! Everything is at its right height. That was horrible! - she cried, stretching and shrinking in order to feel her bones again.

Perhaps from the effect of the spell, or perhaps from the sudden cold of the dungeons, she sneezed.

- Merlin! - Sebastian exclaimed, and turned away uneasy with eyes wide open.

- Allie? It's you? - Ominis asked, turning towards her, and for once she was thankful that he couldn't see.

Sebastian was looking at the wall. - What the bloody hell happened?

- I wish I knew! I was practicing the whole Animagus thing in the bathrooms, when suddenly it worked, and I...

- You were practicing? - Sebastian repeated.

- Yes.

- In the bathrooms? - he began to turn around to show his disappointment, but soon realized the embarrassing situation she was in and changed his mind.

-Yes. I mean, no... wait, that doesn't matter! Contrary to my predictions, it worked, too well in fact, and I couldn't turn back. Took you long enough to notice!

- How were we supposed to know?! You could have asked the professors!

- Ask, how, exactly? All I could do was meow. And besides, admit to a professor that I failed such a simple thing after all I've been through? No way. It would have been humiliating!

Sebastian didn't say anything more, as if he got the point.

- Well, for instance... you should put some clothes on.

She blushed furiously. - I would do it myself, but my wand was left in the bathroom along with everything else.

- It's fine - interrupted Ominis. - I'll go get them.

Probably understanding the situation better than Sebastian, Ominis offered himself to go retrieve everything. How, she didn't want to ask, but she trusted Ominis more than anyone.

- Thank you...

Ominis went through the secret passage. Two of them were left.

She sighed, both tired and awkward about the whole situation. - I'm sorry for all this mess. I really didn't think it would work… it was honestly just for fun.

Sebastian sighed and seemed to realize the irony of the situation. He giggled. - It's all right. But I think you should stop underestimating yourself so much.

She slumped her shoulders. Maybe it was the tense situation, or maybe it was the fact that she felt naked for the first time in front of someone (metaphorically and physically). She felt like confiding in Sebastian. - You'd think that after all that happened last year I'd be more confident, but it's not easy.

Sebastian crouched, leaning against a stone wall, a leg bent over his chest, the other stretched on the cold floor. He turned to look into her eyes, feeling the discussion was getting serious.

- You guys had four years to practice magic, but I had just one year to catch up with you lots. And yet everyone has expectations from me. I have to prove myself, and I have to do it quickly. Otherwise-

"I may as well turn back to my pitiful muggle life" she thought, but didn't say it out loud.

- I think you proved yourself enough - Sebastian admitted, not without a hint of irritation. - The goblins, the whole business with Anne and... my uncle. You've endured more than any Hogwarts student ever had. You should be proud of yourself.

- Only because I was not alone.

She was staring at him and he understood. He suddenly found his shoes more interesting than everything else in the room.

There had never been a real discussion after the events of the previous year. Perhaps out of fear, or shame, or both, but none of the three ever dared to press the subject. Therefore what she said next was like opening a forbidden box.

- I'm so sorry about your uncle.

He tightened his fists. - Yes, well... I've been living with regret all this time, and it's what I deserve. I haven’t heard from Anne since.

She looked at the ceiling and gripped the dark robe closer. - I won't tell you that with time she will change her mind and forgive you, because I don't know. But I think that it's never too late to redeem yourself.

- But how? - Sebastian asked, hiding a stutter.

- I don't know... Only time will tell.

Sebastian raised his head. He had those afflicted eyes that Allie couldn't stand to see. If she had some way to turn back time, she would do anything to stop Sebastian from casting that damned spell. If there was a dark magic spell that could help rewrite the past, she would cast it with no hesitation.

"What a hypocrite I am."

She suddenly had this urge to get up and hug him, but she obviously couldn't. For multiple reasons.

Sensing her feelings, he simply said, - Thank you, - and that was enough. The two smiled awkwardly at each other. After a while, he spoke again. - I have a question, if you don't mind. Have you been avoiding me lately?

She swallowed. - What makes you think that?

- I don't know... just an impression.

- It is. I would never avoid you.

She didn't mean anything by it, especially because it was a lie, but for some reason such a simple sentence felt like it had a double meaning. Sebastian seemed to grasp it too, and he scratched the back of his neck.

Not much time later, Ominis came back with her clothing and wand. She changed herself with magic as quickly as she could.

- How did you get these in the girl's bathroom? - Sebastian asked warily.

- Let's not get into details.

***

After thanking Ominis multiple times, she left the Undercroft for Potion class, while the other two gathered their things and slowly made their way out.

- What did the two of you do while I was gone?

Sebastian raised an eyebrow. - We talked?

- About what?

- Just small talk.

- Really.

Silence.

- You held her in your arms. And she purred.

Sebastian cheeks flushed and he was glad that Ominis couldn't see.

- Don't you start again, Ominis.

#sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow x mc #hogwarts legacy #mea's post #sebastian sallow x oc #sebastian sallow x reader

524 notes · View notes