#agent reader

[taylor-will-be-the-death-of-me]

Mr. and Mrs. Smith

Summary: You couldn't stand Bucky Barnes and he couldn't stand you. But will your affections change after having to pose as a couple for a mission...??

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x fem!agent reader

Warnings: fake dating au, language (is anyone else gonna mention the fact that cap just said 'language'?), will update as I go

A/N: It's been soooooooooooooooooooo long but I'm back. I want to get back into writing and the only way if can think of doing it is by forcing myself to post. So here you go, a brand new fake dating Bucky fic. Happy reading, don't be a stranger💞💞

1. The Start

2. loading...

[anika-ann]

A Series of (Un)Fortunate Events - S.R.

Part 2 of 2

Type: two-shot, idiots-in-love, feel-good fic (part 1 here)

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader   Word Count: 10,7k (I-)

Summary: A few things had gone wrong on your camping trip with Steve and other fellow agents.

But is that such a bad thing?

Warnings: NSFW,  18+, size and praise kink if you squint, semi-public sex kiiinda, language, attempt at humour, FLUFF , Steve being a menace

A/N: written for the Essie’s Summer Lovin’ 300 Follower Celebration hosted by @bigtreefest In this chapter, you darlings shall get "Who thought a place with mosquitos was a good idea?"; "You know this one’s my favourite", trying not to get caught and kinks size and praise, if you squint, as well as semi-public sex

A/N 2: DIVIDER by @firefly-graphics; enjoy y'all 🥰 Several Agent of SHIELD characters are involved - I don't think you need any knowledge of the show to read this

The last sunrays of the day illuminated the crowns of the tallest trees, the shadows casted growing longer and wider. The fire the guys had started flickered in the breeze carrying the fresh cool air from above the lake. The warm colours of the flames danced across the improvised campsite you had settled, its heat not reaching the clothes you had washed and hanged in the nearby group of trees, but certainly had wonderful effect on everyone sitting around the fire. Work done and belly full, you were beginning to feel the miles you had walked taking its toll, pleasant but very real fatigue settling into your body.

And you weren’t the only one, by the look of it.

During dinner, everyone was supposed to share their most surprising moment from the field; but now, the chatter had quieted down, movements growing rather sluggish even as the atmosphere was serene and amicable. Bucky had taken it upon himself to finish the last pieces of grilled meat; the rest of you were simply staring into flames, talking quietly, or shuffled around in search of a soon-needed flashlight.   

The sudden rapid – and very distinct – movement on Daisy’s part startled you, snapping you awake from your near slumber.

It wasn’t just you who winced – not that Daisy seemed bothered by all the looks the unsolicited use of her powers attracted, huffing and waving her hand around.

“Ugh. Who the heck thought a place with mosquitos was a good idea? These little bastards love me for some reason… no one told me turning Inhuman had that effect,” she complained, once again striking the annoying insect with a wave of deadly vibrations. “Yes! Finally.”

You stared at her, blinking, wondering if you had actually fallen asleep and this was one of the creations of your hippocampus, nothing but a dream. The fact that everyone was staring too though made for quite an argument against that theory.

“Did you just… quake apart a mosquito?” Bobbi asked, sounding as incredulous – and amused – as you felt.

“Huh?”

Hunter cackled at Daisy cluelessness. “I think she did. Wow. Way to go, Trembles.”

“Tremors, Hunter. Mack calls me Tremors,” she corrected him gently, without an ounce of shame, proud of her murderous accomplishment if anything.“And why – yes, I did. And for everyone’s information, I’m not afraid to do that to any annoying elements on this trip.”

Smile dripping of sarcasm, Daisy turned to Hopkinson, who rolled his eyes and muttered ‘subtle’ under his breath.

A fresh wave of fondness towards Daisy swirled in your chest and you made a mental note to give her a hug just for that. You didn’t want anyone to get into crosshairs for your benefit; you didn’t want to stir conflict – if anything, acting partly like a liaison, you were often in the position of a peacemaker – but you’d be damned if Daisy or anyone else being on your side of things didn’t make you feel loved and appreciated.  

You had purposely not sat down next to Steve, even if you had wanted to. You didn’t want to give Hopkinson or anyone else any more ammo and… it was enough that you were wearing Steve’s hoodie, your brain somehow translating it into Steve’s warmth keeping you comfortable. From experience, you knew that if you sat next to him and felt the heat he was radiating despite only wearing short sleeves still, you’d lose it and might actually snuggle him. Even two seats over, you were painfully aware of his presence; and any moment you allowed yourself to think about sharing a tent with him, you were pushing yourself further into the area of crossing The Line.

Crossing it by miles.

“You know that the point of this trip is bonding, right?” May commented dryly, the twitch of the corner of her lips giving away her amusement – or approval.

“Sometimes eliminating the unbearable variable helps,” Natasha said matter-of-factly, gaze flickering to Hopkinson too. “Nothing strengthens friendships like burying a body of a common enemy together. Trust me.”

Mental note to hug Natasha as well, you thought. Or maybe buy her a fine quality bottle of red. She was a fan. You had drunk enough with her to know.

Bucky snickered silently at her side; and the fact Steve just hummed in silent approval and didn’t intervene despite this having been his idea, bonding during a camping trip indeed, spoke volumes about how pissed he was still for the comment Hopkinson had made earlier.

It almost made you feel bad for him; but Hunter’s wide eyes and Bobbi biting back a smile at the nonchalance in Natasha’s tone were simply too good not to enjoy.

However, Hopkinson did not seem to appreciate the gang-up, his face a mixture of offence and annoyance.

“Seriously, guys. Can you at least pretend you don’t play favourites 24/7?”

“No,” sounded collectively around the fire, causing your lips to part in awe; and your chest to feel pleasantly full.

Steve’s voice was no surprise to you, neither was Natasha’s or Bucky’s – or Daisy’s for that matter. Hunter’s too, since he was for any mischief he could get – but May’s voice joining the chorus took you aback a bit. The smile on Bobbi’s face told you that she herself only hadn’t agreed with the rest of them out loud out of diplomacy.

Hopkinson still threw his hands in the air, letting them fall to his thighs with a muffled slap before climbing to his feet and moving towards his tent in a demonstrative dramatic exit.

Bobbi followed his example, standing up too.

“Right. This was fun, guys, but I’m going to bed. Someone planned an insanely long hike for tomorrow,” she said, pointedly looking at Steve, who smiled and raised his hands as if he was giving up when everyone else glared at him too.

It was no wonder they looked at him; the way the flames painted shadows over his arms was simply gorgeous. It was hard not to linger, hard no let your eyes wander.

…and your thoughts were gradually losing filter the more tired you were getting. Maybe you should just go to sleep; if you were out before Steve would arrive, there was a chance of keeping up the façade. Maybe.

You rose to your feet.

“I guess I should go to bed too. I’ll just take a quick rinse in the lake and settle in the tent, that okay?” you said, checking with Steve, who only nodded with a reassuring smile

“Whatever works for you.”

“Take someone with you. Seems like bad luck keeps following you,” May hummed, earning a few chuckles from others.

As you looked at her, her smirk was somehow secretive, causing you to waver. Did she know something you didn’t? Were you cursed? Was this another of the infamous prank wars SHIELD agents sometimes declared? It didn’t happen often, but you had heard stories; in fact, May had such a great poker face that her team had once failed to recognize her as the perpetrator of the notorious whipped-cream-on-hand-when-sleeping prank on Agent Fitz and they only had found out when she confessed months later.  

“Yeah, we don’t want you to drown…” Hunter said, wincing when Steve and Bucky snapped their head to him with downright menacing glares. “What?! We don’t!”

You snorted, swallowing the ‘down, boys’ threatening to slip from your lips. It was still nice of them though – they didn’t know Hunter as well as you did. He didn’t mean anything bad.

Or did he? Was he, too, on that prank war that might be and might not be happening here with you as the main target?

“I’ll go,” Daisy said, jumping to her feet, now seriously making you question whether you were turning insane. “What? He has a point. Let’s go—oh come on, die, you blood-sucking little bast-”

Shaking your head, you just accepted it, too tired to care; but making a mental note to check your sleeping bag for bugs and itching power just to make sure.

As you were gathering the few precious pieces of clothes that had survived the marinade attack, including a towel, you couldn’t but chuckle at Hunter’s suddenly wide-awake voice.

“Hey, hold on, do you think that mosquitos who drink Inhuman blood turn into some… superpowered freaks? I read a story about a guy who was bitten by some freaky spider once, and he became a-“

“Hunter… shut up.”

While your feet barely even shuffled towards the part of the lake hidden from the sight of your teammates sitting by the fire, the cool water of the lake certainly awoke your senses anew. You and Daisy barely dipped your toes into water when you felt it started taking effect.

And yet. As Daisy looked back towards the camp, as if making sure no one had followed you, she dropped a bombshell on you which wiped any traces of fatigue as fast as if she fired a gun next to your ear.

“Okay, done deal,” she said, almost nonchalantly by her measures, as she descended into water, “you have to shag Steve, like yesterday.”

You turned to her so fast you nearly toppled over and fell into water just like Hunter had unwittingly predicted. Arms spread wide for balance, hissing as your knee hit the cold water surface, you didn’t – but that wasn’t important. And Hunter was not at all importantat the moment either.

What the--- what?!

And did she have to say it like that?

Of course she did. It was Daisy after all.

“Daisy!”

“What? Come on! He has literal heart-eyes whenever he’s with you. He even has a special nickname for you. That guy is smitten. And you are not at all better, since we’re at it, by the way,” she noted with a smirk, before sliding into water casually as if she was stating a boring obvious fact and not… that.

It left you dumbstruck.

Not that you didn’t want to ‘shag’ Steve. But that was not the point!

Were you really that obvious? Certainly, you couldn’t have been. You were an agent. A professional. Stealthy. And yes, Steve sometimes… looked at you in a certain way, way that made you feel warm and hot all over, but-

You shook your head, following Daisy’s lead, breathing out slowly as the nonetheless welcomed coolness of the lake enveloped you.

“That’s not-"

“Not what?” Daisy questioned, turning to you to show off her arched eyebrow. “Please. Take your lies elsewhere. And hey – the opportunity literally presented itself. I mean, maybe your sleeping bag is full of bugs, better to share with him since you’re already sharing his tent. I mean, you’ll have to be pretty close to each other anyway. It’s a big tent, but it’s not that big…”

She trailed off, a hint of a smile playing in the corners of her lips, your face growing hotter with every word; but there was also something in her tone that made the spy in you hyper-alert all of sudden. Something about the glee in her voice, her expression, the sparkles of enthusiasm in her eyes, her-

-abilities.

The realization dawned to you with a gasp, your jaw actually falling slack.

No. She wouldn’t.

Surely, she wouldn’t have-

Oh she absolutely would.

The buckles which had been securing the tent to your backpack had fallen apart. They had broken conveniently when you had been crossing the river, and in the area where the water was the deepest no less. Steve had had to hold you so you wouldn’t take a dive, Bucky had been too far to pull the tent out immediately, causing it to soak and sink-

“…did you quake apart the buckles that held my tent to my backpack? Because I’m sure they were as good as new when I secured the tent.”

You should be shocked. You should be scandalized. But as you said it out loud, it made perfect sense and Daisy was definitely the kind of person to do something like this given the right motivation.

And boy, did she seem motivated.

“…maybe.”

“Daisy!” You pushed the water with the heel of your palm, sending a solid wave to soak her hair to make her cool the hell down. “What the hell?!”

She laughed as she coughed the water out, shaking it from her hair, something impossibly warm humming in your chest and bubbling out in the form of laughter as well.

God, she had really done that, hadn’t she? You couldn’t believe her.

“What? You two are taking forever. Like… I’m sorry, I like me a slow-burn. But you’re moving like a drunk sloth, I swear. I haven’t decided if watching you two dance around each other is cute or painful,” she emphasized, the brightness in her expression telling you it was the former, but it was a close call. You just stared at her mutely, unable to decide whether to be mortified or laugh some more. “Plus, I’m begging you. You two need to get together just to put Hopkinson out of his misery and show him that it’s a lost cause.”

Your brain latched onto the last piece of information, because in the sea of things you were mildly mortified and rather amused to hear, this one didn’t even make sense.

“What do you mean? What’s a lost cause?”

Daisy chuckled, clearly entertained by a joke you were not aware you had said; a joke you did not understand in the slightest.

When she realized that, her smile slipped, replaced by awe.

“You’re… you’re kidding, right?”

“About what?” you asked, genuinely completely lost – and frankly, slightly irritated, because Daisy gasped at your reaction, laughing again. “What?!”

“Oh my god, how did you not notice? You’re a spy. One of the best agents SHIELD has, ever had, even May says so, and that says a lot,” Daisy noted, causing you to purse your lips, something inside you puffing in pride, effectively distracting you for a moment.“But oh my god, you really didn’t know. It’s obvious! H-jerk has hots for you.”

Blank. Your mind turned blank for a split second, no image, no sound.

Daisy could slap you across your face and use her powers doing so and you would be less dumbstruck.

“What?!”

What the---- what?!

Daisy, the little shit, had the audacity to snicker at your perfectly appropriate reaction – but that was because she was joking, right? She was pulling your leg. She had to.

“Come on, Libra.That ‘keep her warm’ comment? Grade-A display of jealousy – and I don’t think Steve is his type, if you catch my drift.”

You did catch her drift.

Except you didn’t.

“No! I mean--- yeah, I catch your drift, but… he doesn-“ you stopped mid-protest, words dying on your lips.

The idea was… strange at best. Intriguing, in the worst way possible. Plausible – except Hopkinson was being a douche to you 24/7.

Which, now that you thought of it, could possibly be some manifestation of his frustration of you not paying attention to him? But that would make it a lost cause – the bigger jerk he was being, the less you wanted to deal with him… which made him act like even a bigger douche, which made you even less interested in being in the same room as him and leading you to spend even more time with Steve, which would only make Hopkinson--- no. You didn’t not want to get into that vicious circle, getting the basic idea.

Insane and not really a likeable idea; plausible, but not probable.

Even if it did make a tiny bit of sense, you supposed. In some twisted, immature male logic.

“Oh.”

Daisy grinned. “Yeah. Oh.”

Oh she really believed that wholeheartedly, didn’t she? You weren’t even sure what to make of that – but frankly, you didn’t think you wanted to think about that too hard.

Scratch that, it was the last thing you wanted to think about, even if in a way, you understood Daisy’s amusement.

A little.

“Okay, this… today was a long day. I’m done,” you said decisively, earning a chuckle from your companion. “Enjoy the lake. I’m gonna go… before I find out other disturbing facts.”

Daisy, bless her, just hummed. She let you dry up and slip into your sleep clothes – and Steve’s hoodie, because you really liked the way it felt and made you feel, safe, among other things – in blissful silence, only speaking again as she was climbing out of the water herself.

“Well, now that we cleared things up… go shag the All-American golden boy.”

You ignored the pleasant tingle the idea sent through your body, raising your hand to gesture for her to just... stop please, as you gathered the rest of your things.

“Oookay, Daisy. I’m gonna go now. To bed. Alone. Have a good night though.”

“Sure. Night! …and share the sleeping bag!” she called after you as you turned away, causing you to shake your head, grinning like a madwoman now that she couldn’t see you.

Feigning outrage, you yelled back at her:

“Good night, Daisy!”

The tent was illuminated softly, signalling Steve’s presence as you approached it and climbed inside. Your backpack was already stored in the veranda, safe under the roof so none of your remaining clothes would get wet with a surprise night rain or the morning dew.

You lightly scratched on the cloth of the door, a wordless question you soon got your answer to, being invited in.

The warmth in Steve’s voice made your stomach somersault, the smile that had settled on your lips during your conversation with Daisy widening; and as soon as you unzipped the door and revealed Steve sitting on the improvised bed, you found him smiling in return.

He had changed into a pair of boxers and a sleepshirt, a nondescript grey loose thing only he could possibly make appear attractive, but one he liked anyway because the material was soft and airy at once. You would know; you had worn it before, with his scent lingering on the fabric, when you had needed some extra comfort after a nightmare, needed to feel as safe as you would in his arms but couldn’t have born the heat of his body holding you close at the moment.

Something gentle and sweet hummed in your chest at the memory; the sight of him, sitting here waiting for you, erased the last strain of the day.

Including Hopkinson’s annoying but truthful comment and Daisy’s strange theory… and more importantly, her instruction.

You shook your head incredulously at her shenanigans, Steve’s greeting earning a curious edge.

“Hey, you okay? You haven’t nearly drowned, have you?” he questioned, watching you as you climbed into the tent and zipped it up again, his gaze roaming your figure with attentive care despite his teasing.

You rolled your eyes good-naturedly. “Har, har, Captain Rogers. I’m fine, just… come bearing some news.”

“Oh? Tell me.”

He didn’t scoot over to make space for you; he didn’t have to. You didn’t mind his proximity. In fact, you yearned for it; and he knew it all too well.

“Well, according to Daisy,” you said, unable to keep the puzzlement from your voice, “Hopkinson is being a jerk, because he ‘has hots’ for me.”

Steve’s expression darkened, a frown twisting his handsome features.

“I don’t like the sound of that… and why would he be such a jerk to you if he likes you?”

You shrugged before sitting down next to him close enough that your thigh brushed his. It was a little funny, really; the tent had a fairly high ceiling, though not enough for Steve to stand up straight, and it was wide enough for you both to sit comfortably on your own. But sitting beside him, touching him, was an instinct; a magnetic force you were helpless against and didn’t mind succumbing to. Especially since Steve’s face cleared as you did so, reminding you why he was all frowny in the first place.

“Go figure. I guess some men don’t move on from the tugging on girl’s pigtails to show affection stage,” you mused, suddenly unbothered by it; because it was not your problem and the other news was much more fun. “Oh and she thinks that I should, I quote, shag the All-American golden boy.”

A slow grin spread on Steve’s face, his thigh nudging yours. “Now, that I do like.”

“Don’t-“ you warned him, smiling wide, heart speeding up at the twinkle in his eyes and the sheer beauty of it. “The lights are on, mister.”

“Easy fix.”

One hand reaching for yours, the other for the lamp, you felt profound warmth spread through your veins as his eyes observed you, taking in all of you, as if you had entered the tent in a luxurious ballgown and not a pair of leggings and his hoodie. It could be unnerving sometimes, the eyes of an artist looking at you as if you were a fine piece of art, but the emotion captured in that gaze was making you breathless in the best way possible.

As the lamp clicked silently, Steve’s thumb ran over the back of your hand; a small gesture of affection hidden by the shadows, just like your love.

You and Steve had clicked almost instantly.

You had fallen hard.

You yearned for a touch, always.

And so did he.

The perfect match.

Two months ago, talking had no longer been the only thing on agenda for you when he had asked you out. Two months ago, you had found out that Steve’s lips were as soft and sweet as they seemed and drawing was not the only art he mastered. Two months ago, you had discovered that Steve’s hands were not only made for fighting and protecting and creating something beautiful, but for holding you and showing you heaven unparalleled.

You were in love.

You were lovers.

You had just decided to keep it low for the moment – as low as it was possible among spies like Natasha Romanoff, Bucky Barnes or Melinda May, as low as it was possible among the Avengers.

It wasn’t that you were ashamed of each other or your together or worried about professional repercussions – Steve was confident that should it come to it, he could make sure you wouldn’t work on same missions should either of you feel compromised by your relationship. That wasn’t an issue, not truly.

It was just that… he was Captain America. You were a SHIELD agent, half an Avenger, one might say. You had noisy friends and colleagues, and the public already speculated about the nature of your relationship whenever someone snapped a picture of you two together. It wasn’t a question of life and death, even if Steve might argue on that one, worrying his affections might put you into an even bigger danger than you already were on a daily basis. It was a question of comfort.

You wanted your love to be just yours for a little while longer; you wanted your love to be a private place, a shelter, a sanctuary – not a public affair.

So outside the privacy of certain rooms in the Avengers facility, you were still nothing but close friends. That was what you had agreed on, this trip included. Key word of the trip: friends.

You weren’t sure if the façade would hold.

With Steve’s hand now cupping your cheek, you weren’t so sure you cared.

You cared much more about the relief flowing through your body at finally feeling his touch again, an invisible weight, a subconscious tension in the back of your head, melting off your body. That, and you cared that he could see just fine while your eyes were still adjusting, your brain scrambling to put together a mental image of the tent you had seen before.

It was rather difficult to focus now that Steve had kissed your lips, steering your mind elsewhere, but as you briefly met his lips in return – oh so sweet and tempting – one fact about the interior struck you, causing you to withdraw a bit.

“…where’s my sleeping bag?”

You might still not see Steve’s face clearly, but you could hear the smile in his voice just fine.

“Don’t know. Do you need it?”

You chuckled, arching your brow, naively clueless.

“I’m going to sleep, so yes. It’s a sleeping bag. There’s literally its purpose in its name.”

Steve’s hand grasped at your nape to pull you back as you tried to look around, inching closer, his amused gaze boring into yours in the shadows.

“Don’t get smart with me now, sweetheart,” he whispered, fingers flexing in your skin, a signal your body comprehended just fine, just like the message unspoken.

His lips brushing yours again helped too, excitement tingling in your belly, the protest slipping off your tongue but a weak alibi for when you’d reason you had agreed to keep your hands to yourselves in favour of keeping your relationship secret still.

“Steve… we shouldn’t,” you breathed against his mouth, as if you weren’t already reciprocating the affection, parting your lips for him, hand slipping from his own to stroke up his arm to grip on his shoulder, your other laid on his chest.

“No, we shouldn’t.”

Breathing having turned fast and shallow, you welcomed his lips like soil welcomed rain after weeks of drought; parched earth now soaking in relief, new wild life sprouting within, warm and beautiful under the sun Steve embodied as he caressed your skin.

It lit you alive, finally touching him again as you were meant to, as you were longing since had set off for the trip; finally feeling sated after having been drinking every feeble drizzle in the form of a gentle brush of hands he had offered, yet growing thirsty with every drop of affection you wished you could drown in.

You wouldn’t stop for air when he kissed you breathless. When he pulled you to his lap, his palm settling firmly over your back, the only sensible thing your desire-drunk brain could think of was to press closer, hand sliding into his hair, relishing in the way his fingers dug into your flesh with need. You wouldn’t have stopped for air – what was the few agents, your friends, who had no idea your relationship with Steve was way beyond platonic. They couldn’t see you anyway. Half of them already knew; the other half was probably asleep.

Here. Now. Steve’s lips, his hands, his torso firm and steady apart from his wavering breaths, thighs solid but soft and welcoming between your legs. That mattered.

Steve released your lips with a sigh of deep contentment and a teeny protest on your part, foreheads resting against one another, a peck to your lips to sooth you, a peck to his to show you didn’t have enough of him. Not nearly enough. You never would.

The smile he gave you was warmer than the midday sun; that much you could see, your eyes finally slowly adjusting.

“Hi,” he breathed out.

Just like that.

Hi.

The simplest greetingwhose true meaning – I missed you – remained hidden to the world outside of you two. Much like other small gestures today.

A smile; I’m happy you’re here with me.

Catching you when you had slipped; I’ve got you.

Treating your wounds; I’ll always take care of you.

Cradling your hands; you’re precious to me.

Checking up on him; I’m here for you.

Squeezing his shoulders, brushing your fingers over his skin; you’re safe with me.

Agreeing to share his tent; I need you close.

‘Not on my watch’; I’d fight the world for you.

‘We shouldn’t’; I want you.

“Hi,” you said back, smiling too despite the reprimand to come. “You’re a terrible influence.”; I adore you.

Steve ran his hand up and down your back gently, chuckling, brushing your nose with his before retreating and finding your gaze in the dark.

“I love you too.”

Unlike the first time he had uttered it during the trip, you whispered the words in return, rewarded by another sweet kiss, slow and deep, a confession of love written into your very soul, bodies so close they could merge into one.

“Missed you. Missed touching you. Almost kissed you on at least ten different occasions. Wouldn’t even care who’d see,” he confessed, sealing his words with another kiss as if to make up for all the lost opportunities.

“Yeah, me too. You are very distracting.”

Steve grinned boyishly into the next kiss, teeth pulling briefly on your lower lip, the hand on your back urging you to erase ever half an inch between you.

“You tell me. Especially now,” he mused, fingers tugging at the hoodie for explanation, a flicker of satisfaction igniting your chest. Good; for all his shameless attempts to break your will, as gentle as they had been, you had been teasing him in return by simply walking around wearing his clothes. Good.

It took a split second; that flicker turned into a wildfire of another kind as his dextrous fingers slid under the hem of the hoodie, tenderly – and so purposely lightly – brushing the sensitive skin under your ribcage. Your fingers dug into his shoulder reflexively, a soundless moan escaping you at the sensation of muscles flexing under your touch.

“You know, this one’s my favourite.”

Fondness battled with desire in your chest, the awareness of why feeling warm and burning at once.

“I know.”

“Uh-huh,” Steve hummed, lips trailing along your jaw, wordlessly asking you to tilt you head back. Oh how gladly you gave him the space... “You know why?”

You did. You were certain of it, but Steve’s hand on your back slid under the hoodie too, teasing alongside the clasps of your bra and the first and only word coming off your mouth was a pleading yes, the clasps undone a fraction of second later, your fingers plunging deeper into his hair, his lips returning to yours.

“What was that, sweetheart?”  

“It’s my favourite too,” you confessed, eyes fluttering open to meet Steve’s burning gaze. “Makes the blue of your eyes pop up…”

He caressed the bare skin over your hip, causing you to almost lose your train of thought again as his fingertips continued their path alongside the hem of your leggings, a deviously innocent smile adorning his lips as he watched your lips part with a sigh and your hips unwittingly buck forward.

The hitch in his voice at that was music to your ears.

“That so?”

“Yeah… and because I-- wore it, the first morning... after,” you whispered, the fond memory of Steve’s lips on your temple coaxing you to greet a new day with a promise of a breakfast and a lazy morning together, both forgotten for a while when you had followed him to the kitchen a few moments later and he had seen you walk in nothing but this very hoodie, deciding he was in a mood for a different kind of a feast and nothing all that lazy.

“That’s right,” he praised, hand sliding under your leggings at last, cupping your heat. Biting your lip to keep quiet, a silent keen of pleasure escaped you still at the relief and the tease all at once, Steve’s lips instantly on yours to drink up the sound with a groan. “Have to be quiet, sweetheart.”

“Thought you liked hearing me-”

“I always hear you… every little sound you make for me, every little sound I coax out of you,” he husked, dextrous fingers working to do exactly that, stirring the flames in your veins hotter, a muted grunt forcing its way past Steve’s lips as his fingertips explored with delight just how aroused you were. “God sweetheart, you’re dripping for me.”

“And whose fault is that? You’re the one who insisted on giving me this hoodie---- ah, and ripped logs apart with bare hands through half of this evening-”

Steve smile tasted devious on yours as you couldn’t but grin at his menacing ways – but by god, what a sight that had been. Lightning could have struck right next to you and you wouldn’t have noticed, entirely hypnotized by the display of sheer strength, the action barely making your lover break a sweat.

Now, when you tugged him closer to take more, to taste more, to get closer, always closer, already drunk on hip lips and nowhere close to having enough, his muscles danced under your hands again, a sheen glow of perspiration forming, the hardness responding to the undulation of your hips a testimony of you not being the only one affected, succumbing to primal desire.

Yet, you felt his obvious upper hand in his voice, the way he preened at your praise, even when hidden under the veil of a faux-complaint.

“You liked that, honey? Like it when I show off my strength?”

He knew the answer and yet you granted it to him in a silent whimper, hand sliding down the hard bulge of his arm, a sensation almost as divine as his fingers sliding past the soaked fabric of your underwear and entering you, the first step on the ladder towards the stars.

“Yes, Steve—love, I-”

“Yes, honey?” he coaxed, lips an inch from yours. “What were you saying?”

“Gentle and strong---and big,” you managed to breathe out as he pumped his fingers in a way he had already learned would lift you higher and higher towards your peak, his gaze hungry as he watched the pleasure distort your features, every little sound you tried your goddamn best to muffle as not to give your friends a show fuelling his effort to make you lose that game and driving him wilder in retun. “Should manhandle me more often-“

“Is that right?” he chuckled warmly, so warmly and content you didn’t have time or space in your mind to feel shame for admitting it, less so since he curled his fingers just like that, mouth pressed to the column of your neck in a demanding kiss, a graze of teeth that nearly knocked your breath out of your lungs, your whole body burning like a supernova about to explode. “I’ll take a note. But for now… I gotta be gentle so you don’t let everyone know how close you are to your Captain.”

And gentle he was; a gentle tease. But as devious as he could be, dark eyes drinking in the sight of you falling apart for him but few second later, a sinful smile on his lips shining with your arousal when he took you apart for the second time, sucking a bruise to your inner thigh as you came down from your high – he drew plenty of his pleasure from your own and was still a giver. He kissed his way up your still trembling body, exposing more and more skin to give love to, until he reached your lips again, muffling both yours and his moan as he slowly entered you at last, taking for himself too, once, twice, no need for rest, but pausing still to feel the shared bliss spreading through your bodies.

Despite Steve’s lips being nothing short of wicked, his hands both tender and all kinds of greedy – an honour you so willingly and enthusiastically reciprocated – the words spoken between you were soft and sweet; and as quiet as you tried to be, there was plenty of space for I love yous without uttering a word.  

A gentle touch to angle your hips.

A caress alongside his jaw.

A kiss to your collarbone.

A hungry kiss to his lips.

The grip on your waist.

The dirty roll of your hips you knew made him see stars.

A press of his lips to your lower back when he flipped you over, a lingering moment of reprieve and torture before he entered you again in one smooth movement.

Confessions whispered to your ear and just as sweet and delicate breathed in return.

Love you; need you; gonna keep you.

Yes. More. Always want more of you.

You have all of me.

I’ve got you, love.

You did have each other. Body humming in quiet aftershocks of bliss, contentment settled deep in your soul, you fell asleep curled to Steve’s front, his arm draped securely around your waist, keeping you close.

The one sleeping bag which he had unpacked was but draped over your bodies, way too small to cover you both fully. And yet, you were perfectly warm and safe from the cold and the outside world, Steve’s breathing lulling you to a peaceful sleep full of gentle fire and stars-littered skies resting just at your fingertips.

Waking up came with flickers of blurry images you could hardly distinguish from a dream; but as you found yourself alone, colder than before despite being safely tucked into a cocoon of a sleeping bag, you smiled as you recognized some of them as real.

A morning ritual of a kiss to your temple; a gentle advice for you to sleep a little longer; your body seeking Steve’s on instinct, the hard planes of muscle relaxing again as he gave in and held you for another while, lips pressed to your hairline, an embrace full of love. Bucky’s grumpy voice whisper-yelling from an immense distance, reminding Steve that he had been the one to plan the morning run so he’d better get his ass out and stop shagging his lady; Steve’s sweet grunt so quiet that perhaps not even supersoldier ears could hear it from outside of the tent that yes, but that had been before he knew he’d have you for himself.

The dreams after that you didn’t remember, but you recalled they were awfully sweet and you wished to be woken up just like the first time.

Still, despite finding yourself alone, body slightly aching, the memories of last night and earlier this morning brought a wide smile to your face. The inside of the tent was already perfectly bright, so sun must have been high despite the relatively early hour. In your high spirit, the idea of warm sunrays even made you consider going for a swim in the lake, just to have the excuse to wear Steve’s hoodie later, discarded in a corner, again.

You pulled it over your head, fingers running through your hair to have the worst of your bed hair go away and pull it into a lose bun, you slowly climbed out of the tent, your smile only widening at the beautiful scenery awaiting you – and you didn’t mean your friends barely just getting out of their tents too. The woods, the sun reflecting in the crystal-clear lake, the remnants of the morning mist, the dew sparkling on the grass like thousands of soft diamonds.

Eyes slipping close to feel the sunrays on your skin, you stretched your arms above your head, breathing in deeply, the slightly crisp and gorgeously fresh air-

“I BLOODY KNEW IT!”

Your heart nearly gave out at the sudden cry, making you wince and drop your arms in an instant, seeking the source.

Pulse thundering in your ears from the fright, your gaze found Hunter, turning to Bobbi by his side with his mouth hanging open with shock as if he had just witnessed a real-life Loch Ness monster peek out from the lake and dive back again. Maybe he had.

The tension melted from your shoulders as you sighed, willing yourself to relax again.

Whatever was his issue, it was way too early for you to deal with his shenanigans – you’d leave that to his ex-wife.

You shook your head and turned back, letting yourself to take inventory; your body was aching all over, a testimony to a long pleasant night, thighs, lower back and neck a little stiff. You rolled your neck to relief the tension a bit, then shoulders, tilting your head to one side and then the other, nearly groaning at the stretch and satisfying ache--- only for your work to be instantly undone by Daisy’s loud voice. 

“Hunter, what the-- oh my god YES! Fucking finally!” she all but shrieked, the undiluted excitement in her voice causing you to snap back to her, panic rising in your chest.

Because you knew that tone.

This was exactly the tone she had used when she told you to shag Captain America, to share the sleeping bag with Steve. Had she seen your sleeping bag packed, assuming you had listened to her? But she couldn’t have possibly known you hadn’t had a head start and already packed it back again, so why would she give into that excitement so easy, that couldn’t have been-

“What is it?” you blurted out, heart in your throat, brain in an overdrive as you tried to think, think, think-

Your gaze found Steve’s as he and Bucky emerged from among the trees, slightly breathless, the loud ruckus clearly having startled them and making them race back to the camp.

You took a precious second to appreciate the absolute god-like appearance of his, red, red lips, chest heaving, arms bulging now that he put his hands on his hips and looked around with slightly worried and entirely confused blues that reflected the colour of the sky, his hair ruffled by the wind, sticking to several directions as it had lined with sweat.

“Nice badge, agent,” May commented dryly.

And yet, her voice dripped with amusement, the corners of her lips twitching in a smile, causing you to frown.

Nice badge? What did she mean by-

Oh shit.

Oh fuck.

Your hands immediately flew up to your neck, covering the incriminated spot she was referring to, even as you hadn’t been aware there was one.

But there must have been.

A hickey.

You had a visible hickey, not just the one on your inner thigh which you knew Steve was so bloody proud of.

You had a hickey on your neck and now everyone saw it, an undeniable proof that you and Steve had most definitely not shared a tent platonically, but had shared a whole lot more.

You doubted you could blame the bruise – you didn’t even know what it looked like, oh god, you were mortified,why hadn’t you checked your appearance in a mirror, why – on some super-powered mosquitos drunk on Daisy’s Inhuman blood as Hunter had mentioned. And even if you could – you were hundred percent sure your spy training had flied out of the window and if the hickey hadn’t given it away, your imitation of a deer in the headlights when caught certainly had.

Speechless. You were rendered absolutely speechless and while this wasn’t any kind of tragedy, you felt the world spinning a bit. Oh no.

“Not that it’s any news,” May added, a smirk on her lips as all the gazes of those who did consider it news snapped to her.

“What do you mean?” Hopkinson asked, grumpy and entirely stunned.

Bucky snorted by Steve’s side, clearly highlyamused unlike your love and lover.

“You call yourself spies? They’ve been together for like two months and he’s been giving her heart-eyes from day one-“

“A-HA! Called the heart-eyes!” Daisy cried out pointing at you victoriously – and pausing.

Steve used the opportunity to put himself together, approaching you sheepishly and slowly as if he was worried you might actually throw something at him for leaving a badge of honour and shame on your neck. Which you might. Dammit Steven! If you found out that this was some kind of a ploy to make Hopkinson piss off if he really did have hots for you or whatever, you might spend the next night in your own tent alone just because.

“…wait, that means-- so you’re saying I quaked apart the buckles for nothing?”

At that, all eyes turned to her; and Bobbi let out a small sound of surprise.

“Oh! You quaked the— oh. That makes sense,” she said. “Well, I guess I unsecured the food container for nothing too, then.”

It was like watching a cartoon; at her admission, all heads turned to her in comical speed, stunned – and yours and Steve’s most of all, even as he stood at your side at last, a tender brush of his hand to your forearm for support.

Bobbi had done what?!

Something awesome in Daisy’s opinion, that was for sure. The women exchanged a conspiratory smile full of mutual respect and understanding.

All you could do was stare at them mutely. Daisy, well, she hadn’t surprised you all that much, even as you’d never dream of her doing that – but Bobbi? She had a wicked sense of humour and she certainly possessed a no-nonsense approach to things, but-

“Well, now I feel like a sucker,” Hunter said, glancing at his almost-wife. “I mean, all I did was not to tell her that her shoelaces were undone so she’d trip and someone would give her some TLC.”

You turned to him, gaping, no air coming in or out.

Y tu, Brutus?

All three of your friends had been on this, though apparently without cooperation? You were done. You were so completely done. And to think you had considered Hopkinson had been playing pranks on you. He was probably the only person who hadn’t been on this.

“Hunter, that’s awful,” Daisy commented at the sneaky act, causing him to raise his hands palms up innocently. “What if she’d have twisted her ankle or something?”

“Well then even better, wouldn’t it? He’d have to carry her in those--- arms with the biceps the size of bowling balls. And it worked, ain’t it? TLC, big time. Have you seen them when he treated her hands?”

Daisy paused, briefly lost in thought; then, she made a face. She couldn’t argue about that. Just like you couldn’t argue about the possibility of Steve’s solution being exactly the one and you being very much affected by being carried bridal style in his arms like that.

Not that that was the point.  

They really might have as well all worked in sync even if they hadn’t, huh?

Except all these things, arranged to get you and Steve together or somehow make you realize your feelings and act on them, were a little late to the party.

“Well, good work, everyone. I mean, it was fun to watch you try,” Natasha said, moving to continue packing her tent, slowly setting the scene in motion again.

“Almost as much fun as watching you two try to keep it under wraps,” Bucky smirked, walking past Steve and patting him on the shoulder. “Sorry to break it to you, but when it comes to undercover, you’d be more convincing as a couple of newlyweds.”

You sputtered at that remark, still to stunned to react otherwise, your famed ability to work under pressure and in unexpected circumstances suddenly nowhere to be found. You guessed it only applied to the field.

“I-” you started, unsure how to continue, feeling too busted – but also relieved somehow – turning to the man whose fault all this was. “Steve?”

He just opened his mouth, too taken aback as well; which you took as a prove that he hadn’t been aware of that hickey, bless him. Which… was curious at least, but he had enough wits to look guilty, so you’d leave that for after you’d process this.

May cleared her throat loudly.

“Alright, now that we established the bad luck that’s been following you was not bad luck at all, I believe we have a long hike ahead? We should move on with packing…”

Yes. Packing. That sounded wonderful. Anything to get the attention off you – though you weren’t sure it would help all that much.

Daisy, Hunter and Bobbi seemed simply too amazed by the revelation and satisfied with their work all the same. And Hopkinson was… something. Processing probably. Certainly not happy for you; you didn’t want to examine why. Even if it would support Daisy’s theory of him actually liking you, which was a wholly different can of worms you did not want to open at the moment.

You shook your head, your smile tight.

“Good call, Agent May. Thank you.”

She casted a small smile your way, actually shooting Daisy a pointed look so the younger agent would stop staring at you. She did; but not before she showed you a pair of painfully unsubtle thumbs-up, setting your cheeks aflame even more than earlier.

Once no one was looking, you lightly slapped Steve’s thigh with the back of your hand, staring him down despite truly feeling relieved you wouldn’t have to spend the rest of the trip hiding anything besides the incriminated spot on your neck. …and your inner thigh when you’d go for a swim.

He observed you sheepishly and gently took hold of your left wrist, lifting your palm from where it had been covering your neck still; his gaze zeroed on that side of your neck – the very side on which you had been lying on when you had woken up, probably having been hiding the testimony to your passionate night from him when he had left you.

His pupils grew a little wider, eyes a shade darker, the hold on your wrist tighter-

“No!” you whisper-yelled at him, the corners of his lips twitching even as he seemed genuinely apologetic. He let you go when you tugged your hands free. “No, mister. You’ve already done enough.”

“Yes, I did… four times,” Steve whispered as lowly as possible, a loud responding groan sounding from both you and Bucky, who probably regretted having enhanced hearing at the moment.

“What?” Natasha asked.

“Believe me… you don’t even want to know.”

Your plan was to pack as fast as possible and get on your way; but there were things to be done. The team was onto packing, cleaning up after the yesterday’s fire, rinsing in the lake – and thankfully, chatting about various things of which none was you.

With Steve’s help, you had put down your tent, now finally dry, and moved on to a the group of trees where you had hung your clothes – now also dry and clean of the smell of marinade if not the stains.

You heard the shuffle of feet before you saw him; you froze in your movements, recognizing the pattern.

Hopkinson cleared his throat, signalling his presence, causing you to sigh and slowly turn to him.

You expected a snidey remark, bracing yourself for him boasting about how he had been right, about the pimping all those weeks ago and about Steve keeping you warm through the night – but to your surprise, his face was set in a pleasantly neutral mask.

It took you aback so much you didn’t make a sound before he spoke.

“So uhm… I’m all packed. You need any help?”

Your eyebrows shot up near your hairline before you could school your expression, your jaw falling a bit slack; a voice in the back of your head, one that sounded a lot like Daisy saying ‘Grade-A display of jealously’, whispered of the guy actually liking you,as unlikely as it had seem.

It did not seem all that impossible now; his posture was stiff and careful, which could be just him being nervous now that he knew you were under Steve’s protection on a whole new level, or being unsure how to approach you – but there was a hesitant interest and warmth in his eyes when you allowed yourself to look at him for long enough. And despite the tension in his shoulders, there was something rather welcoming. As if he was genuinely offering help.

Well, you’d be damned-

The creeping realization must have shown on your face, because his own expression fell, heat colouring his cheeks, his Adam’s apple bobbing.

“Oh. You know. Well, this is embarrassing.”

“I little, yeah,” you admitted, your voice a little breathless and a little too high. Did an exchange just happen between you without a single insult yet? Did he really just admit to feeling anything else than the grandiosity of his ego, pointing out he was rather uncomfortable because of something? Wow. Just… wow. “I mean… I didn’t even realize. I’m… sorry.”

Your felt your features twist into a frown, confused by your own words – and feelings. The ‘sorry’ sounded strange to your own ears and tasted even stranger on your tongue, because from the two of you, it wasn’t you who should be apologizing. It hadn’t been you who had been the absolute douche.

And yet, here you were.

“Well, it doesn’t matter. A guy can’t exactly compete with… that, can he?” he suggested, chuckling bitterly.

Your eyebrows, having return to their normal position, arched again.

You understood his point: Steve truly was quite the competition for about anyone. But not for the reason you just knew flashed through Hopkinson’s mind. It had little to do with the size of Steve’s shoulders, the mantle he carried or his absolutely brilliant smile – as much as you admired or adored these things about him. It had much more to do with who he was without the shield; whom he’d still be if the serum fell out of him tomorrow.

You didn’t think he’d understand; he wasn’t in love with Steve Rogers.

“You mean… compete with the guy who’s not acting like an asshole around the woman he likes?”

Hopkinson grimaced, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

“…I kinda deserved that. I’m… sorry.”

“Yup. You di-”

You stopped mid-sentence, his words actually registering in your brain. Did he… did he just apologize? And acknowledged that he had been an ass? Today really was full of shocking revelations.

The satisfaction of this one was too good not to enjoy. And yet. Maybe it was the emotional turmoil you had been riding out the whole morning, maybe the relief of you and Steve not having to hide, maybe it was the lingering euphoria of the previous night – but seeing Hopkinson stand there awkwardly, him, awkwardly, you did feel a little bit sorry for the guy.

You sighed again, this time mostly at yourself. “But hey. Some people are into the whole… golden hearted jerk thing.”

“What?!” he snapped, arms crossing on his chest defensively, as if the word jerk wasn’t the nicest one you could think of when it came to his behaviour. Then, he apparently heard past it – and his face cleared up. “Oh… what?”

Oh you were so going to regret this… and yet, it felt somehow right. Setting your folded clothes on the ground next to you, you met his gaze reluctantly, resisting the urge to sigh again.

“Look… have you’ve been a jerk? Yes. Absolutely. Jealous too, even when not entitled to it. But… I’ve seen you cover people in the field with your own body. Catch a bullet for them too. Save people. I’m not an idiot. Someone who does that? They’re not all bad. Hence the golden-hearted added to the jerk,” you said softly, unable to smirk as you threw in the insult just once more, because damn did it feel good to say it to his face after having to deal with his assholery. “And someone, like, I don’t know, maybe Agent Summers for example, are into that-“

“Wait what?! Angela?”

You had to blink as he interrupted you swiftly, surprised he knew who you were talking about – and that knew her first name. That was a good sign; maybe he wasn’t a completely lost cause yet. A flicker of warmth in your chest lit up, a silent reassurance that you had done the right thing telling him that. It seemed he did care for someone else than himself.

“Uhm, you didn’t hear that from me, but… let’s just say that maybe if you look around back home… you’ll be surprised there are people who have an eye on you,” you concluded.

Hopkinson watched you for a few beats of silence, something in his face softening in a way you didn’t think was possible. There was a hint of a smile, a genuine one, without a biting edge – and to your surprise, without the air of irony, it made for quite an attractive image. You hadn’t been blind to the fact he was a handsome man – one who was all too aware of it – but combined with something resembling kindness, it simply hit different. 

“Thanks, Libra. Really.”

A small smile spread on your lips as you hesitated for but a moment before you extended your hand – the final gesture of offering peace even as you hadn’t been the one to disrupt it. Surprised flickered on Hopkinson’s face; but he shook your hand, almost a gentleman’s grip.

Almost.

“But if you break her heart, I’ll break your arm. Minimum,” you said, deadly serious.

He retreated his hand, observing you with uncertain smile.

But oh he’d better be certain. Because you would. If he’d muck up his chance to be better, he’d pay.

“I’d trust her if I were you,” a familiar voice carrying a weight of authority and promise sounded behind you. “And you should know that I’d help her do it if she wanted.”

Hopkinson shot Steve a respectful glare and took a step back, causing the corners of your lips to twitch when he looked back at you. “Understood, ma’am… sir,---Captain.”

You bit your lips to stop the laughter at his sudden nervousness and prompt leave – but seeing Steve squared to a fight, wrapped in an aura of an uncompromising protector, did things to you, so you couldn’t say you blamed Hopkinson for being affected, albeit drastically differently than you.

Heat swelling in your belly, you tried to gather your wits by gathering your clothes; before you could, warm arms wrapped around your middle from behind, gently pulling you to Steve’s front, lips pressed to your neck, right over where your hickey was, now hidden by a scarf.

Smiling and revelling in the contact, you chastised him all the same. “PDA, Steve… and I’m not forgiving you that hickey, by the way. You’re possessive, mister. You’re gonna get me into trouble with my boss.”

“Can you blame me? And I have it on good authority at least one of your bosses approves,” he said decisively. You couldn’t feel his smile over the scarf, but you heard it in his voice, a silent whisper of an apology and seduction at once. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to embarrass you or get you into trouble. I honestly didn’t even realize. I just got… lost in you. Always do… you drive me crazy in the best ways.”

The little sweep in your belly at his flattering confession was undeniable; smiling wider, you melted against his body, earning a brush of lips against your temple, drawing a content sigh from your lips. You could get used to that. Steve’s voice in your ear, his arms around you, a beautiful view of nature…

What had you been talking about?

Ah.

“Same… but your hickeys heal right away. It’s so unfair.”

“True,” he hummed, nuzzling your neck softly when your hand settled over his. “Speaking of fair and unfair… you were far too kind to that jerkface. You’re a good person.”

“I try,” you said with a grin, pleased all the same.

Suddenly spun around, you couldn’t help the small yelp erupting from your lips, and neither the laughter as you landed in Steve’s arms, palms steading you against his chest as he looked down at you with a heart-melting smile.

“And I love you.”

Hopkinson who? The guy had been right. There was no competing with Steve and this moment, seeing him so happy from something as simple as holding you, four simple words that made the world shrink into the small bubble of your embrace, was just one of million reasons why.

Why even after barely two months, you were utterly, undeniably his.

Utterly and undeniably in love.

“I love you too… even when you’re about to drag me god knows how many miles,” you added cheekily, your breath hitching in anticipation as he leaned his head down, alluring lips you already craved again but an inch away.

“I’ll carry you if it comes to it-”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time-”

“Always, sweetheart,” he promised, finally erasing the distance, mouth pressed to yours softly, warm hand between your shoulder blades pressing your closer as your hand slipped to his nape and into his hair.

The awareness of not being alone was but a distant thought in the minuscule corner in the back of your mind. You sighed when Steve moulded your lips to his liking, mouths parting for but a split second and then connecting again, your head beginning to spin, heat spreading through your veins that had nothing to do with the sunrays caressing your skin. You didn’t fight the sensations, letting them consume you, revelling in the fact you two could do that now, publicly; and whenever you would say no to Steve?

When he retreated with a smile, nose nudging against yours, you found yourself grinning like a fool and griping on his t-shirt, the profound happiness in his eyes causing your heart to flutter.

God, you were so very, very lucky. The fact you had good friends looking out for you in their questionable but well-intended ways, only spoke in favour of that assumption.

“Well, I guess that with that… despite all the little misfortunes I had on this trip, I feel pretty lucky then.”

“Yeah? That makes two of us.”

Steve’s grin tasted sweet as he kissed you again, your fingers caressing along his throat awakening a silent rumble in his chest, his hand moving to your nape to keep you in place as his lips grew more demanding, your lips parting oh so willingly to accommodate him, your core burning as the kiss became so fierce you felt a strain in your back from bending backwards just a bit.

“OI PUNK! Just because they all know now, doesn’t meant we want the front row to you necking your girl!” Bucky yelled with too much laughter to his words for anyone think he was truly annoyed. “Knock it off!”

You grinned into the kiss at Steve’s not-so-gentlemanly curse, blinking away the daze when his lips left yours with a muted pop, hands remaining exactly where they were.

Wow, okay.

“Speak for yourself. I’m super happy to finally see them together…” Daisy said, crossing her arms on her chest, a cheeky grin on her lips.

“Oh, it gets old pretty quickly, trust me,” Natasha uttered with a fond smile. “They’re gross.”

“Amen…”

“Come on, guys… we have a long trail ahead,” May reprimanded you all, throwing her backpack on, nodding towards Steve. “Where to, Cap?”

That finally had Steve release you – not before pecking your lips once more, much to your shared delight – his figurative leader suit slipping on, making him stand taller, his voice earning a quality that made everyone fall in line; and you look at him with pride.  

“I’m on it, Agent May,” he said dutifully. “Let’s go.”

With that, gathered your clothes in one arm and he headed up towards the rest of the group and to your backpacks; the pile of clothes on one hand, his other wrapped securely around yours.

You were still wearing his hoodie; if he’d let you, you’d proudly wear it for the rest of the trip.

Something told you he’d be more than happy about it.

Complete masterlist

Steve Rogers masterlist

Here we go! I hope you enjoyed the little twist and the shenanigans 🤭 I certainly did. But also boooooy this is so much longer than intended.... ah well, Story of my life.

Thank you for reading and should you leave feedback, I thank you tenfold 💕 May your August be generous to you 🥰

P.S. - check out the rest of the masterlist for the challenge/celebration! I sure have my eye on it 👀

P.P.S - just because I can:

[vigilante24ish]

A Thorn By Thy Side

Agatha Harkness x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2728

Chapter 2:

The attack met your hands, and you had to dig your heels into the ground to prevent it from sending you on your back once again.

Your arms burned from the inside out, and the sensation made you want to rip your sleeves off and throw them into the cool water. However, you fought through it.

Successful, you lowered your hands and went for the attack.

Agatha Harkness might have magic, but she lacked any kind of physical training, making her your exact opposite and giving you a small window to actually take her down.

The Purple Witch quickly used her magic to get up, now intrigued by the way you blocked her attack without much of an effort. She tried to blast you again, but you slid on your knees, passing beneath her attack as you recharged your little gadget.

Now closer, you shoot two spider bites at her, successfully finding her neck as the small volts of electricity pass through her body. It annoyed her more than it harmed her but it gave you an opening to land a strong left hook against her cheek, sending her stumbling back.

The attack shocked Agatha, who brought a finger to the corner of her lips only to spot blood that had slowly started to escape. No human had ever bloodied her before, not by a simple physical attack.

She narrowed her eyes on your panting form, trying to understand what kind of tricks you were using. Something within her system, within her magic core, tingled; the presence of foreign magic close by.

She suspected it must be coming from you, though she could not see nor truly pinpoint it. If you were a witch, you certainly did not know it, or you had been masking your magic so that even she was fooled.

An impossible task, Agatha thought as she started to send one blast after the other.

You could block her attacks, but you would eventually get tired. And as hell, she was not going to let you come near her again. One punch was humiliating enough, and that would be all you were allowed to get from this fight.

Each blast of magic met resistance from you, your hands doing their best to block and redirect the magic to the side, keeping you unharmed. However, the force of each blast kept pushing you back, making it harder for you to regain a stable footing or try to find an opening and come closer to Agatha.

Agatha, who grew tired of your refusal to fall down or even die, chose to change the rules of this battle. There was no need to waste her precious and hard-earned magic on a pitiful creature like you, not when there were other ways to get you.

Purple smoke enveloped her form, quickly making her disappear from where she once stood.

Panting, you started to slowly turn circles around yourself, trying to listen and predict where Agatha’s next blast would come.

Eventually, one did come, and by instinct alone, you jumped to the side to avoid it. It left you open for a few seconds, and that proved to be your fatal mistake as you felt something wrap around your neck.

Purple thin cord of magic pressed against your windpipe, the handler pulling you back and slowly cutting your breath intake. You tried to fight it, to find a small opening and slip at least a finger beneath, but your attempts were futile.

Before you knew it, Agatha gave a sharp pull and took you with her. Unable to fight it, you felt your body being yanked back before your head slammed on a hard rock, your consciousness quickly fading as the last thing you saw was Agatha’s purple dress in your fading field of vision.

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………

When you woke up, the first thing you felt was an annoying ringing in your ear. A sharp pain coming from your right temple reminded you that you were still alive, and slowly, you forced your eyes open.

As your vision cleared and your senses tuned in, you slowly started to realize where you were.

You were not in that clearing, for that you were certain. A quick look at your surroundings made you suspect that you were in some sort of rocky basement if your eyes were not mistaken.

You tried to move, only then to realize your limbs were not responding. Finally, you dared to look down and saw purple binds of magic wrapped around your arms and legs, keeping them behind your back while a similar force was levitating you mid-air.

“Look who is awake,” Agatha’s voice drew your attention and tried to find the source of it, a futile attempt to look above your shoulder as she entered the underground room.

“Where am I?” you asked, voice hoarse after the time you were unconscious.

“You have never been to a witch’s lair before?” she questioned as she slowly walked to be in front of you, in her arms, a bunny.

You looked at the bunny, not expecting an evil witch said to be responsible for all those catastrophes to actually have a pet, let alone a bunny of all kinds. “Should have?” you snapped back, getting annoyed by her little questions.

Your arms were getting sore, and so were your legs. Your head was killing you, and you would like to know why the fuck you were alive and, apparently, her prisoner.

“Considering your little show of skills...” she started, petting the bunny, but her blue eyes were locked on your form. “Now, how did you do it? How did you block my attack like that?”

Confusion appeared on your face as you started to realize why she had kept you alive so far. The issue was that you needed an answer to give her. Yet again, you wouldn’t tell her so easily even if you did.

The first attempt to hopefully earn time and maybe potential freedom was to try and play it more clueless than you actually were. “I have no idea what you are talking about.”

Agatha tilted her head to the side, watching your every move, every breath and every muscle twitch as you tried to lie to her. “Oh, but you do. What you did, that wasn’t someone testing it for the first time,” she argued as she let the bunny down and walked closer to you. Long fingers grabbed your chin and forced you to keep your attention on her. “Now, I will ask one last time. How did you do it?”

You did not dare to look away, both out of stubbornness and pride. You did try to yank your head back and free your chin from her grip, but you found how quickly she tightened her grip, to the point you were sure bruises would form if she continued.

“I told you. I don’t know,” You spat at her, narrowing your eyes, passively challenging her to let you go and face you properly.

A wiser person would think twice about using such a tone when they are a prisoner of a powerful witch. A wiser person would try to work with their kidnapper or have even freaked out by the fact that they were suspended by magical bonds.

Unfortunately for you, wisdom was not something you were given credit for. Stubbornness, now that’s more like it. Though, in your defence, considering how many times you had been attacked, kidnapped and even tortured, this was a regular Tuesday for you.

Agatha did not seem to like your answers, either because she did not believe you or because she was not a patient person. Her blue eyes scanned your face, thinking of ways she could make you confess soon.

That was until she spotted something; a little ink mark, barely visible beneath your blouse, wisely positioned close to your collarbone. Her fingers moved from your chin down your neck, making you shiver at the invasion.

Your muscle stiffened in response as her fingers went beneath your blouse and you tried to pull back, only to be reminded that you were completely at her mercy; unable to do anything but watch.

“What are you...” your voice grew weaker, and you felt betrayed by your own body once you realized your heart was beating faster, reacting to her touch as if you had not been with someone in years.

Technically, it had been a few months since your last short-lived relationship, but that was not the point.

Agatha removed her fingers, only to grab and lower your blouse to the point your cleavage was exposed; yet her blue eyes did not stay too focused on your chest, but rather what existed above it.

A thought clicked into her mind, and you swore you saw a glimmer of light in her blue eyes, her tempting lips forming a smirk.

“Perhaps you do not know, but your body does.”

You looked at her, confused, until you saw the purple magic coming alive between her fingers. In seconds, cold air hit your skin, and the sleeves of your jacket and blouse were literally ripped off.

You suppressed a shiver at the sudden change of temperature and the fact that you suddenly were a little more exposed to her roaming gaze. You kept your chin up, trying not to let her see how you felt, trying not to let her understand how empty your confidence was in such situations.

“Well, well... you are full of surprises, aren’t you, hon?” she questioned, her eyes travelling up and down your one arm and then the next.

Familiar to her, symbols had been inked into your skin since you were a child, tattoos that you never understood what they meant but never truly questioned. They had been with you for as long as you could remember, the only physical thing left to you by your parents.

In your mind, they looked cool and yet deep down you felt there was something more behind them. Your suspicions started to pay off as you went to more and more missions, as you encountered all kinds of threats, magic and not.

No true answers were ever given, though... until now.

“Now, this explains so many things,” Agatha continued after noticing how silent you went. “You have no idea what those things are, do you, cupcake?”

The nickname felt unnecessary, though you quickly came to realize it was kind of her thing. She loved calling people anything but their real names, refusing to give them that satisfaction or even respect.

“Do I look like I do?” you snapped back again, getting tired of her monologue.

“Grumpy, aren’t we?” she rhetorically asked. “What you have on your arms are runes. Specifically, protection and shielding ones. It was why you were not taken down by my magic. Those pestering symbols on your skin protected you.”

Blinking slowly, you tried to play it surprised, but you failed. Deep down, you knew and made a connection of a similar nature about those symbols. It was why Fury had specifically asked you to try and capture Agatha, only for him to underestimate how willing she was to play dirty.

It was not just Agatha’s mind that was working on scenarios and coming up with ideas at that moment. It was also yours and a risky enough plan formed in your mind, one that might not pay as well as you expected but it was better than remaining a prisoner.

“I don’t need them. Release me, and I will show you,” you said, trying to target her ego and her pride.

You were rather good at reading people, a skill you developed over the years as an agent and even during your academy years. You had already started to read Agatha, and you simply had to play your cards right.

As you expected, the challenge within you was what had drawn Agatha’s interest in the first place. Your snarky remarks, your ability to just get up despite the hits, and your stupid bravery in facing her even when you lost the first battle were what made you interested in her eyes.

Fully confident in her abilities, now that she had started to figure you out, Agatha obliged. With a single move of her hand, a little twirl mid-air, your binds were gone, and your face planted on the rocky floor.

Your arms and knees felt sore from the forceful landing; your weight did not help, but you fought beyond the pain as you started to get up. If those runes did protect you from her magic, at least the blasts, you could take her down, but you had to be mindful of any more tricks.

Agatha eyed you carefully, placing one nail between her teeth. “Well, show me,” she ordered.

You took a step forward and readied yourself, her blue eyes following your every move. At the last second, you bolted for what you saw were stairs leading up, intending to escape her and call for help.

Agatha could take down a few agents, but she had exposed herself and her threat level, and Shield had more than enough capable forces to actually take her down.

Your legs pushed you towards the stairs, arms frantically swaying back and forth as you felt your heart beating inside your head. You stretched one leg, ready to place it on the step, when you felt the attack.

Agatha had blasted you with her magic, and you felt it this time. The force tossed you against the stairs, and it was a miracle that you did not hit your head for a second time. Your body burned from her magic, and your guts twisted as you felt her readying for another attack.

Gathering all your willpower, you pushed your body to the side, nearly missing another magical blast that would have pinned you to the ground.

You looked at Agatha as she attacked you again, and you brought your hands forward like before, attempting to block it. Only that you felt no protection this time, and the blast knocked you against the rocky wall.

A third blast pinned you there before you felt her magic wrapping around your body, pinning your hands by your sides. Panting, you looked at your capture only to feel her magic tossing you to the side.

One wall, second wall; you groaned as you felt the rough impact, and you found it a miracle that your bones were intact. Bruises would sure form, and you swore a few fresh cuts had found their way on your skin, droplets of blood slowly escaping.

“I... I don’t get it,” you breathed out as she slowly brought you back to the centre. “What did you do to me?”

She had just said those runes on your body would protect you from her magic and then they didn’t?

Agatha was amused by your confusion and lack of knowledge as her magic pulled you closer to her. With her free hand, she motioned you to look around you, and it was then you noticed glowing purple symbols similar to some of the ones tattooed on your body.

“In a given space, only a witch who cast the runes can use her magic. In here, your pesky little protection runes are useless against my magic,” she explained smugly. “I wondered how you did not notice before; then again, you are not as smart as you portray yourself to be.”

Her insult did not settle well with you, and you glared at her with all the anger and hatred you could muster. It seemed to only delight her, finding no true threat in you, not at that moment. “You do not know me,” you said through your teeth, wishing for her to pull you just a tad closer so you could smack your forehead against her nose.

As if reading your mind, Agatha smirked and kept you at a safe distance, yet close enough so she could grab your chin again. Like a prized animal at a fair, she inspected you once again, pleased with her latest toy.

“I do not, but I do intend to find out,” she commented, licking her lips slowly. “Get ready, pet. You and I will spend some quality time together.”

[thatsmzbitchtoyou]

Run, pretty girl, run Chapter 2

Summary:  Even with the safeguards put in place after the fall of S.H.I.E.L.D., the remaining Avengers find themselves on the run after the American government falls into disarray.  The code word is sent, and they’re officially fugitives.  Bucky makes a run for the safe house set up for emergencies like this where the Avengers are told to meet up, but on the way saves the pregnant agent turned payroll specialist that he was partnered with.  Will they make it before she goes into labor?  Or at all?

Warnings: violence, pregnancy, childbirth, death of minor character, language, eventual smut

“Бегать”: run “Подтвердить” : confirmed “Enkosi”: thank you “Дома”: home “Добро пожаловать”: welcome

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They drove for hours until it was nearly nightfall.  Bucky pulled off the highway and started taking a complicated route of back roads until they came to a stop in front of what looked like an abandoned house.  He reached back and grabbed their bags as Y/N got out of the car.  She stretched, grunting at the heaviness she carried as she walked up to the house, Bucky not far behind her.  He looked around carefully before pushing the doorbell with his flesh thumb.  A small keypad appeared on the side of the doorbell and he punched in a four digit code.  A whirring could be heard as locks moved and the house seemed to wake up.  The door unlocked and he quickly opened it, ushering Y/N inside and shutting it behind them soundly, punching in the code again.

The inside didn’t match the outside, a fully furnished front room that was clean and tidy being lit up as Bucky switched the light on.  He dropped their bags on the couch and headed towards the kitchen to see what food was available.  “I’m sorry we drove so long,” he called out, opening the fridge to a fully stocked spread of food, pulling out ingredients to make something for them both.  “I promised you dinner, so give me a bit and I’ll make something.”

“Okay,” Y/N said quietly.  “I’ll pick a room.”

“Sounds good,” Bucky replied, quickly putting things together.

He heard Y/N rummaging around in the room just down the hall as he made some simple sandwiches, making sure hers was made the way she liked, but with no deli meat.  Bucky had been surprised that that was one of the things pregnant people couldn’t have, and instead made her a play on a grilled cheese.  As he finished the food he put it on the dining room table and got them some drinks.  “It’s ready Y/N!”

Her footsteps scuffled through the hallway and she appeared in the kitchen, already changed into a long sleep shirt.  “Grilled cheese…you know me so well,” she smirked at him, gripping his arm and squeezing it appreciatively.  Bucky smiled as he helped her sit and then sat himself next to her.  They ate in silence, Y/N looking around the kitchen and into the front room absentmindedly.  When she finished she drank a lot of water then sat back tiredly.  “So what’s the plan for tomorrow?”

“More driving.  We’ll probably reach the coast by tomorrow night, then we’ll have to figure out the next best thing.  Flying isn’t really an option with it being so close to your due date,” he said, eyeing her belly.  “So we’ll need to see what kind of boat options are available to us.  Or see if we can get a hold of somebody else who got out who might have more access to resources than us.”

“Like who?” she asked, rubbing her belly worriedly.

“Well, I’m assuming Yelena will be reaching out soon for an update.  Or maybe Shuri.  She’d be the most secure option,” he rattled off, finishing his food and wiping his mouth.  Y/N nodded, her brow furrowed as she contemplated what he was saying.  He licked his lips and reached a hand out again, covering the one on her belly.  “It’s gonna be okay, pretty girl.  We’ll get there before he comes.”

Y/N nodded again, but she didn’t look convinced.  She sighed and looked up at him with a tight smile.  “Yeah, we’ll make it.”

They cleaned up and went to their rooms that were right across the hall from each other.  Y/N turned in her doorway to face him.  “When do you wanna head out?”

“0800 hours?” Bucky asked, yawning and stretching as he leaned against his doorway.

“Sure,” she agreed.  “Well, goodnight Buck.”

“Goodnight, Mamas,” he smiled tiredly at her.  “Sleep well.”  He leaned down to her belly and poked it lightly with his metal finger, making her giggle.  “And you better let her sleep or so help me God–”

“Oh so now you’re threatening my unborn child?” Y/N laughed.

“Damn right I am,” he scoffed, glancing up at her.  He leaned a little closer to her belly, “Watch it,” he grumbled before standing up straight.  

“You’re so dumb,” she giggled again, rubbing her eyes.

“But you love me,” Bucky smirked.

“Yeah yeah,” Y/N rolled her eyes and walked backwards into the room, grabbing the side of the door.  “Sleep well, hot stuff.”

Bucky slightly blushed at the pet name and rolled his eyes back at her.  They both closed their doors and went to bed.

It was a fitful night’s sleep, Bucky feeling constantly on high alert.  Any small noise made him jump, his hand reaching for the one of the three weapons he had placed around him.  At four in the morning he heard something that made him jump out of bed.  It was like a scraping noise coming from outside, and he silently stalked to the window.  He subtly pulled back a part of the blinds and peeked out.  The super soldier serum made it so he could see well in the dark, and outside was a team of agents, fully equipped and dressed for a stealth mission, sneaking around the side of the house.  Bucky gritted his teeth and stopped himself from swearing out loud, slowly moving away from the window, gathering his things and slipping on his shoes before opening his door as quietly as possible.  He snuck into Y/N’s room, gathering her things into her bag before going to her bed.

“Y/N,” he whispered, shaking her shoulder gently.  Y/N jolted, turning to look at him with wide eyes.  She had obviously had a fitful sleep like he did.  She inhaled and opened her mouth to speak but he covered it with his hand.  “There’s a team outside.  I counted at least 7 on the side of the house.  We need to go.  Now.”

Y/N nodded against his hand, her breathing becoming shaky.  He helped her get up slowly and quietly, slipping her shoes on before guiding her down the hallway to a set of stairs that were hidden in a wall.  They went down the stairs, locking the door in the wall behind them with another keypad.  Under the house was a basement that doubled as an underground garage.  The lights turned on automatically as they walked on down the steps, displaying three vehicle options.  Bucky chose the high speed suburban nearest the exiting door.  This safe house had a mile long getaway underground track that would eventually spit them back out on the highway.  Y/N got in and strapped herself in as Bucky put their bags in the back again.  He started the car, opening the garage door with a button inside the car and driving down the tunnel track.

They went at a normal speed at first so as not to attract attention with a rumble under the dirt.  As they got further away Bucky sped up until they started to see the beginnings of sunrise shining down into where the tunnel started to slope up towards the road.  When they finally drove out of the tunnel they were able to merge onto the empty highway, and Bucky took off like a shot down south.  Y/N looked behind them, making sure no one was in sight.

“I don’t see anything,” she said, turning back around.  “God, how did they find us?”

“My guess, they had some information on Stark’s old safe houses somehow,” Bucky mused, his brow furrowed low with anger.  “We need to call Shuri.”  He fished his burner phone out of his pocket and gave it to Y/N.  “Dial 7 three times.”

Y/N nodded and did as he said, putting the phone on speaker.  After four rings the phone was answered.  “Sergeant Barnes, Бегать,” Shuri’s voice filled the car.  

Both Y/N and Bucky sighed at the sound of her voice.  “Подтвердить,” he replied.

“We’re on a secure line.  Where are you?” she continued.

“Leaving the safe house in Virginia,” Bucky replied.  “They made us.  We’re driving down south as fast as possible.”

“Us?” Shuri asked.

“Hey sweetie,” Y/N spoke up, a small smile on her face.

“Y/N?!” Shuri shrieked.  “Bast, aren’t you due any day now?”

“In 6 days,” Y/N informed her, her voice tense.

“Shit,” Shuri whispered.  “I would send one of our ships to pick you up but we’re being watched by the Americans,” she said quickly.  “Can you make it to the port in Miami by tonight?”

“It’s a bit of a long drive, but yeah, I think we can make it,” Bucky said.  He felt something was off and looked in the rearview mirror, seeing a row of black cars coming from the horizon.  “Fuck!” he yelled, pressing down on the accelerator.

“What?” Shuri asked, Y/N looking back at the road, gasping at the sight of the cars following them.

“We’re being followed,” Bucky growled.  “We’re not gonna make it.”

“Just keep going.  I’ll get the Talon sent now, damn the Americans,” she said, the sound of beeping screens on her end.  “I’m tracking you.  We’ll be there as fast as possible, but it will still take just under an hour.”

Bucky swore again as he tried to think quickly.  They were sitting ducks out here on this long open road.  He pushed even harder down on the gas, the car slightly rattling at how far he was pushing it.  The cars behind them were still a ways off, so if he could just outrun them for a little longer, they’d be able to evade long enough for the Talon to reach them.  “Okay, just get here,” he said, trying to keep breathing evenly.  Panic would only make it worse.  Shuri agreed and ended the call.  

Y/N was starting to hyperventilate, her hands shaking as one held the phone and the other protectively covered her belly, rubbing it up and down.  Bucky glanced at her.  “Hey pretty girl,” he called out to her.  She looked at him frantically.  “We can’t panic, okay?  The Talon will be here soon.  We just gotta keep driving.”  Y/N nodded, breathing deeply through her nose and exhaling heavily through her mouth.  He reached under the seat and grabbed the gun hidden underneath.  He handed it to her and she automatically checked to see if it was fully loaded and fire-ready.  He smiled at how strange the sight was of a heavily pregnant ex-agent holding a cocked gun.  “But just in case…you got this Mamas.”

The gun in her hand seemed to somehow calm her, her hands stilling as she focused on the task at hand, her training coming back like second nature.  The cars the agents were driving must have been made for high pursuit, because within twenty minutes he could see them start to close in on them.  Y/N saw them approaching in the side mirror and suddenly unbuckled herself, slipping into the back seat with surprising agility with such a large belly.  She dug into her and Bucky’s bags, pulling out the guns they had and making sure they were all fully loaded.  The first car was coming up on their rear.  Y/N could see one of them roll down their window and point a gun at the car.

“Duck,” she said loudly.

Bucky ducked down just as the first shot rang out, ricocheting off the back window, barely leaving a scratch.  “Gotta love bullet proof glass,” he murmured.

“Roll down the window,” she instructed him.  

Bucky did as she asked and she leaned into the door, slowly holding the gun outside the car window.  She aimed carefully, letting the agents waist their bullets before taking her first shot.  Bucky could see the agent leaning out of the passenger window in the car behind them get hit right between the eyes, his body falling limply out of the window and onto the road, making the first car swerve and the second car try to move and lose control, flying off the highway and into the ditch along the side, rolling a few times.

“Good girl,” Bucky smirked.

Y/N hummed and moved to the other side of the car.  He rolled down that window as well and she aimed at the next agent that was more careful this time in not completely hanging his body out the window.  She was one of the few sharp shooters he’d come across that rivaled Bucky’s prowess as a sniper.  She took a moment to get the perfect shot and the next agent’s head hung limply out of the window.  Y/N took down each shooter one by one, then shot out the engines of two of the cars that tried to come too close with the high power guns hidden inside the car.

The last two cars suddenly accelerated and got on either side of their car.  Bucky rolled up the windows and Y/N sat back far into the seat, keeping herself low.  He tried to speed up but the car was no longer able to go any faster.  The two cars alongside them tried to box them in to slow them down, but Bucky veered into the one on the right, sending them off the road and into the ditch, causing it to roll.  Y/N was bracing herself in the back, twisting to face the other car and keeping the gun steady in her hand.  She saw a panel open on the car on its side, and a thick pole starting to come out of the opening.

“Battering ram!” she screamed, moving to the opposite side of the car as fast as she could.

Bucky looked and saw the pole rear back.  He stepped on the brake to make it so the battering ram would only fit the front of the car, launching himself into the backseat just as it made contact with them.  He tried to wrap himself around Y/N but the car jolted to the right, making it skid at high speed before rolling on the cement then off the road.  The crashing, scraping and glass breaking was deafening.  Bucky felt himself bouncing around the cabin of the car, trying to protect his head then feeling himself fall from the car out the broken front window.  He rolled in the dirt and grass until he finally came to a stop, trying to catch his breath.  He did a quick inventory of himself, moving his fingers, toes, rolling his ankles, wrists, making sure everything could move.  His head was pounding, most likely a concussion, but other than bumps, bruises and scars he was miraculously okay.

He looked around and saw the car a good thirty feet away, upside down and smoking.  He got up and ran over to the car, dropping to his knees and trying to look inside.  “Y/N!  Y/N?” he called out, trying to move debris out of the way to see.  He heard a moan and used his vibranium arm to start ripping at pieces of the car.  After a few minutes he was able to move enough out of the way that he could see Y/N.  She was wedged between the roof of the car and the backseat that had warped in the crash, pushing against her belly dangerously.  Bucky gasped and crawled into the car.  “Hey pretty girl,” he greeted her, trying to keep his voice calm.  “It’s okay, you’re okay,” he said, reaching out and touching her face.  “Can you hear me?”

Y/N’s eyes fluttered open, looking around in shock.  “Yeah,” she said simply.

“Okay, do an inventory,” he instructed her.  “Where’s the pain?”

Y/N subtly moved her fingers, wrists, toes and ankles like he had done, slightly rolling her neck.  “Just…sore, but my stomach hurts real bad,” she said, looking down.  She gasped when she saw the seat pressed hard against her pregnant belly.  “Buck!  Get it off!”

“I’m trying, Mamas, just give me a second,” he said, then felt someone pulling at his feet.  “Fuck!  NO!” he screamed as multiple hands started pulling at his feet and legs, pulling him away from Y/N.  She reached out for him but he was too far.  He was hoisted out of the car, surrounded by multiple men.  He swung, taking out two with his vibranium arm before kicking the two behind him.  He fought hard, but they were nearly meeting him in strength, taking him by surprise.  The fighting was making his head pound harder at the exertion.  One particularly hard punch to one of the agents’ faces produced a dark green blood to spurt from his lip.  Bucky looked at him in shock.

“Enough Sergeant Barnes!” one of them yelled out.

He turned and saw one of the agents knelt down by the car, pointing his gun at Y/N, who was struggling to push off the seat on her.  “Don’t,” he stepped forward.

The agent pushed his hand into the car through the broken window, pushing the gun against her head, making her freeze.  “Come with us, and she gets to live,” he sneered.

Bucky glared at him, assessing the situation.  He was starting to feel queasy at the pressure in his head, and he blinked rapidly, panting breaths as he looked around at all of them.  Then he heard it…a sound above them that the others hadn’t heard or recognized.  He smirked.  “No, we’re leaving,” he said.

The agent looked at him puzzledly before he suddenly stiffened, an electric shock going through him, falling with a thud to the dirt.  The other agents looked around in panic, shouting at each other as each of them were shocked and fell.  The air vibrated above Bucky as he looked up and the cloaking on the Talon cleared away to reveal itself.  He heaved a sigh of relief and ran back to the car.  He lifted it enough to help free Y/N from being pinned against the seat, her body falling to the roof of the car.  She slowly crawled her way out and he dropped the car before picking her up and running toward the Talon as it opened the stairway.  He helped get her seated before turning to the motherboard.

“Sergeant Barnes,” Shuri’s voice echoed through the cabin.  “Are you both alright?”

“Alive,” Bucky replied.  “Just set course for Sibiu, Romania.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to come here?” she asked.

“I’d love to, but the checkpoint is Sibiu,” he said quickly, rubbing his temple.  

A chittering sound was heard and then a scan of both of them appeared momentarily.  “Barnes, you’re going to want to come here first.”

“It’s just a concussion, I’ll heal,” he said, sounding annoyed.

“Not for you,” Shuri replied quietly.

Bucky froze and then looked behind him at Y/N.  She wasn’t moving, one hand settled on her heart and the other on her belly, her brow furrowed and her mouth slightly agape.  “O-okay,” he agreed, and the Talon moved.  He walked over to her and kneeled down in front of her.  “What’s wrong, Mamas?” he asked cautiously.

Y/N blinked.  “He’s not moving.”

Bucky swallowed harshly.  “I’m sure he’s just resting after all we just went through.”

Y/N shook her head.  “Scan fetus,” she called out loudly to the Talon.

The system on board chittered again before speaking in a clear Xhosa accent.  “Scan complete.  Fetus has suffered from a placenta abruption and fetal trauma.  Fetus is, unfortunately, deceased.”

Y/N’s eyes shut tight, a shaky huff falling from her lips.  “Thank you,” she whispered.  Her hands fell away from her belly and her chest, hanging limply at her sides as her head leaned back against the wall behind her.  Bucky blinked rapidly, staring at her still very pregnant belly.  Dead?  The baby was just…gone?  All those doctors appointments, the long nights crying over her boyfriend up and leaving her, how she and Bucky had gushed over how cute the baby clothes and accessories were, getting the nursery ready that she would now never use, all of it just…done.  Y/N looked like she physically deflated at the news, but there were no tears.  Bucky watched her carefully as he reached up and took one of her hands.  

“Pretty girl,” he said, rubbing her knuckles.  “I’m sorry.  I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

She didn’t react, her eyes still closed as she breathed evenly.  “It’s okay,” she murmured.  “Would have slowed us down, anyway.”

Bucky blinked at her in surprise, but he knew that this was her way of coping at the moment.  If there was anything they had learned about each other while being mission partners was being able to read one another, knowing each other’s tells, ticks, what buttons not to push, and in moments of severe trauma or pressure how they coped.  She wasn’t feeling safe enough to grieve just yet, so he didn’t push it.  He just leaned forward and laid his head on her knee, his other hand gripping her ankle.  She inhaled deeply at that, and her free hand reached down and ran her fingers through his hair, scratching at his scalp like she would during his worst nightmares.  They sat like that the whole way back to Wakanda.

@vioplay19 @mrsnikstan @scott-loki-barnes @tufflepuff23

[ghosti02art]

blood orange

summary: Katerina, an INTERPOL agent on vacation, is unlucky enough to be on the same Bullet Train as a bunch of professional killers. Even worse, one of them has the sort of attitude that makes her want to pull out his teeth. Perhaps it has nothing to do with luck, and entirely to do with fate. Can this is be called destiny?

Pairing: Tangerine x OC / Reader (Will make an altered version for a Reader fic)

Fandom: Bullet Train

The sky was dark, and the night air was cool. It was late evening in Tokyo, but that did not stop this bullet train from being filled to the brim. If Katerina had known it would have been such a busy ride, she would have just walked back. Or even just slept in the streets. 

She was sitting in the small train seat, and let out a sigh. There was an assortment of noises as people boarded and unbounded the transport. 

Boy, she hated being on vacation. 

She hated it so much that her employer had to make it a part of her “occupational rules”, otherwise she’d never take a break. She did not need a break. Breaks were for the weak - at least to her - because that was how she was brought up. And now, due to her boss, she has to take a 4-day vacation every 3 months. 

She was sketching on a small pad - a drawing she planned to paint later once she got back to the house she was staying in - when she felt someone bump into her shoulder. 

“!Jodete!*” She cursed, glaring at whoever caused the graphite streak across her drawing. Her eyes were met with a sneer, as the man appeared to have no understanding of the term ‘remorse’. 

He looked to be on the cusp of 6 feet tall, and way overdressed for a simple train ride. Perhaps he was a white color worker, but she quickly dismissed that idea, for there was no amount of nice tailored suits that could make up for his awful attitude. 

He cursed right back at her, his thick English accent making everything he said almost laughable to her,” Fuck off mate, get outta my way.”

Katerina simply rolled her eyes at this and went back to her drawing. Despite her foul Spanish, and her tendency to be petty, she bit her tongue. She did not really care to get in a fight with some random curly-haired Englishman. Although, she did have the crossing thought to rip off that mustache of his. 

She mentally noted that he and whoever he was with sat down diagonally across from her. She shifted in her seat, making sure her deep navy overcoat still covered her gun. She always kept at least three things on her that could be used as weapons, and her governmental-issued firearm was one of those. 

Just because she was not currently on INTERPOL business did not mean she was unprepared. She always expected the worst. At any moment, something could go wrong on this train - a fight could break out, a gang could hold someone hostage, a very attractive assassin could sneak onto the train-

Her train of thought was broken when she noticed the Englishman get up and walk toward the luggage end of the train. When he passed her, she quickly put out her foot, tripping him. He quickly caught himself on one of the train seats in front of her, hissing as he spun to growl at her. He started to throw every curse he knew at her, but she simply hummed. 

She looks up from her drawing and tilts her head. There was a slight touch of redness on his cheeks, and it suited him. 

“No se ingle?” She says to him, watching as his frustration rises as she claims ignorance. He huffs, and quickly goes towards the luggage, muttering obscenities under his breath. 

There is a chuckle coming from the set of seats the man left, and Kat turns to look at the individual. There were two other men, and the one that was laughing had dark skin and bleach-tipped hair. 

When her eyes slide over to the quiet male, her blood runs cold. She recognized this man- or should she say, boy, since she knew him from when he was much younger. This was The White Death’s son, and that automatically put a target onto this train. After all of her avoidance of Russia, of that world, it still tracked her down. Her eyes flit back to the humored one, and she realized she knew of him too. It seemed that he recognized her too, but before either of them could say anything, the tough guy over by the luggage called out for him. 

“Lemon! Where’s the stuff? You gave me the wrong directions!” The dark-skinned man, Lemon, quickly gets up to go over to the luggage,” Bruv, I told you, it’s right behind-“ 

Katerina did not wait behind to listen to the remainder of their conversation. She quickly got up from her seat and grabbed her bag, and walked in the other direction towards the bar car. She needed something strong if she was going to make it through this ride. 

Once at the bar, she did not even wait for an attendant to help her get a drink. She easily hops over the counter and turns around to search the cabinets for some good vodka. Yes, she loved vodka. Yes, she knew she was giving into the Russian stereotype. She could get away with it because she had plenty of Spanish genes to mix it up. 

She can feel the presence of another in the train car- actually, two others in the car. She continues to pour herself a drink and mix it properly, before finally turning around. 

She looks down the barrel of two guns, one for each eye, and takes a sip from her glass. 

“Well, boys. You’ve got me outnumbered. That gives you two an extra 25 seconds before I make you tell me what is going on.”

Katerina smirks slightly, before setting her drink down, still mostly untouched. 

“Alcohol always tasted better with blood on my lips.”

**Spanish for "Fuck you!".

————————————————————————

PART TWO COMING SOON

[porcelainseashore]

This was a wonderful set up and I like that you're taking the time to establish their dynamic and relationship rather than bringing us into the heat of the action from the start. Being the prodigal agent is never an easy job and I'm glad Leon empathises with that, but also tries to keep Reader in check 💫

My favourite part has to be the final paragraphs where both of them acknowledge that mutual feeling of comfort of being able to spend time with each other, that possibly also hints to something more, but pushing it down to switch back to the neutral facade they don as agents. I could really imagine that exact scene in my head so vividly, it gave me goosebumps 💜

STORY OF US | CH. 1 - PILOT

PAIRING: DI! Leon Kennedy x fem! reader

SYNOPSIS: A training session gone wrong brings you to the edge and throws you into a fit of rage. Luckily, your mentor is there to keep the peace.

CONTENT/WARNINGS: MDNI/18+. Canon-adjacent. DSO Mentor/mentee dynamic. Forbidden work relationship. Age gap (Leon is 38, reader is 25). Reader has their own background & lore. Leon & reader have an established working relationship of 4 years (nothing was done until later). Violence & fighting.

WC: 4.0k

A/N: Finally, I got this first chapter out haha. But welcome, this is the first installment of my series Story Of Us. Treat this as more of an introductory chapter to the working dynamic, and I promise next chapter is where it kicks off. Shoutout to the babes @notrattus for beta-reading this and reassuring me, I adore you. As always, likes, comments, and reblogs are always greatly appreciated!

SERIES MASTERLIST | MAIN MASTERLIST | AO3

Chaos. That was the best description of what you would call your life. It was unpredictable, often finding yourself in limbo, running from one unstable situation to the next, waiting for the other shoe to drop. Stability was something you didn’t consider attainable, at least beyond the stench of decaying corpses and gunpowder. That was your familiar, finding solace in the heavy weight of a gun in your hand or the rubber grip of a tactical knife.

Violence was all you knew. It was your specialty, what you embodied, what you called home. Like a stray dog, you were groomed to realize this was the only way you could survive in the hellscape of your reality. The leash around your neck was old and faded, weathered from years of wear but tight enough to leave its mark embedded in your skin.

Until now, you don’t know how you’ve managed to survive this long, but you stopped counting your blessings somewhere along the way. The only conclusion you came to was that you were simply lucky.

The seasoned agent observed from the sidelines as you sparred with your opponent. He followed the sweat that trickled down your face and hit the mat at your feet with every swift movement you made. You were agile and ruthless when it came to your craft, something he’s helped you nurture since you were put under his wing years ago.

“Watch your blank spots”, Leon called out, seeing his prodigal agent take training as seriously as they would out in the field, just as he expected.

Huffing out a breath, you blocked your face with your forearms and fiercely glared at your enemy. You paced around the mat on the tips of your toes as the droplets on your hairline rolled down your brow to the bridge of your nose, dripping onto the ground. Carefully, you watched for any opening that would help ensure your win while keeping the sides of your body closed off.

In the blink of an eye, your opponent lunged towards you, forcing you to swiftly turn to the side in a dodge and shoot a kick at her ribs. Blocking the hit, she wrapped her fingers around your ankle to keep you locked in place, her fist colliding with your jaw in a harsh blow. It was a dirty hit, throwing off your footing as you stumbled backward. You were proficient in hand-to-hand combat, it was what you were known for, but the female agent was sneaky and got the upper hand before you could regain control of it.

“Awe, the class favorite can’t fight back?”, she taunted you, the pitch of her voice equivalent to that of nails against a chalkboard. Leveling yourself on the mat, you spat out the blood that pooled in your mouth and stained your teeth. As your eyes darkened, you were reminiscent of a feral Doberman, menacing with the crimson red that dribbled down your chin.

“Is that all you got?”, you mocked her playfully, the embers of your rage igniting into a low simmer as your sparring partner eyed you carefully.

“Oh, she’s feisty. Do they always let reckless mutts out of the pen?”, she toyed with you, throwing baseless jabs as a means of distraction. This wasn’t a new thing, a regular occurrence ever since you were put under Leon’s mentorship as a young adult. At first glance, it was a blessing in disguise, given the circumstances of your life at the time. Yet, it seemed to have gotten you into more trouble than you anticipated.

“How about you shut your mouth before I shut it for you”, you barked back, taking a step forward before you felt Leon grab your arm. He was the only person who knew of your tendency to snap in a fit of rage, teaching you to reserve that for missions where you could let loose. Yet after all these years, there were still moments where you couldn’t bottle it up.

With the continuous taunting, you reached your breaking point, the degrading phrases thrown your way brought an itch to your skin that you wanted to claw at and peel away. The agent was doing her best to make you lose your temper, and you hated to admit she was doing a damn good job at it. Leon could feel the tense situation heating up as you tried to escape from his grasp to retaliate. He wouldn’t allow you to jeopardize your training session or get yourself into any more trouble, so he refused to let go, wanting to be your voice of reason.

“Easy. Drop it before you let her get into your head”, Leon said close to your ear, his grip steadily tightening on your arm. Whether in reassurance or a warning, you weren’t sure.

“I’m fucking trying, I swear”, you snarled at him, his hold tense on your skin.

Pulling away from him, you turned your back to the woman across from you, exhaling a shaky breath. You thought you would be doing her a favor by walking away from the fight instead of smashing her smug face into the ground. It wasn’t worth it, you knew that, and the last thing you needed was to make this situation worse by lashing out.

Be the bigger person. You could practically hear Leon’s voice in your head repeating the words back to you on a loop. It didn’t make sense to you, how he was always adamant on walking away from petty fights instead of evening the score, but that was all part of his teachings. Even if it was the last thing you wanted, it was better for both parties to simply walk away.

But of course, you heard that same incessant nagging from the other side of the room that made your blood boil.

“Yeah, go and be a good lap dog”, she muttered with a laugh. The moment her words reached your ears, red clouded your vision and overwhelmed your senses. You couldn’t stop yourself even if you tried.

Turning around on your heel, you pounced on her with force, abruptly bringing her to the ground with a fist to her chest. You found yourself in a messy fistfight, focused on punching the vulnerable spots along her torso with your thighs bracketing her hips, keeping her pinned underneath you. She tried her hardest to throw you off of her, aiming for your face in unfocused strikes or yanking on your hair but to no avail. Most of the hits she attempted were futile, not getting past your nimble reflexes and aggressive offense as your knuckles connected with her nose.

Blow after blow, your hands grew increasingly sore every time they collided with her skin, hearing the audible crack of bone breaking that you tuned out just as quickly as the hits came. You were going too far, managing to stop when strong arms wrapped around your waist and forced you off of her completely.

Leon pulled you away from the beaten agent on the ground, holding her now curved nose with bruised fingers. It was no doubt broken, her lip bleeding with a split and the skin around her eye swelling into discolored shades of purple. She no longer wore that pathetic smirk she had coming into the match, instead, she looked at you in fear as most people did.

“Not a fucking dog”, you mumbled under your breath, knowing that your mentor wouldn’t brush this under the rug as much as you’d like for him to spare you the lecture. It had been so long since you cracked like this, letting your emotions control your actions instead of logic. Jerking yourself out of Leon’s arms, you stood in front of him and mentally prepared for the onslaught of words.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?!” Leon snapped, his tone sharp.

“Winning the match”, you stated nonchalantly with a dismissive shrug. The training room emptied out after the fight, the agent you wounded being carried out towards the infirmary. You walked to your duffle bag and grabbed your water bottle, taking a sip and swishing the cooling liquid around your mouth, rinsing the blood that tainted your gums. 

“You didn’t hear her when she was talking shit? Do you think I was just going to let that slide?”, you retorted, getting closer to his face and holding your ground. Your eyes were glowing with bitterness at Leon, already too familiar with the repetitive cycle of arguments that were part of your strange dynamic.  

“That’s the exact problem here, you let her words get to you. When you’re in the field, you can’t let your enemies provoke you into doing something impulsive. I’ve already told you more than once to keep your temper in check”, Leon scolded you, taking a moment to sigh with his hands on his hips like a discouraged parent.

“Out there in the field, they don’t last long enough to open their mouths. You know this. Don’t tell me to keep my temper under control when you give all these other people a pass to say whatever they want”, your voice reached a higher pitch as irritation flowed through your body.

“What did I tell you about losing yourself in a fight?”, Leon questioned sternly.

“You told me to channel my rage into my movements. Isn’t that what I just did? Whatever, it doesn’t matter anymore”, you grumbled, feeling the initial anger dissipating into another emotion.

Over time, it took you a while to understand how to react and interact with people. One of the problems that came with being a prodigy was how people picked on you constantly, you could never figure out why it was part of your experience as an agent.

Maybe that’s what happens to strays, they remain isolated because they don’t belong anywhere else.

“No, you don’t get to use that tone with me”, he wasn’t going to allow your attitude to get the best of you. “You’re only proving my point here. You know that you’re better than letting this push you into throwing a tantrum. Act like it.”

The second his voice became crass you felt a weight in your chest, one that you tried to push down but it only crawled further up to tighten around your throat. No matter how hard you strained to hide it, you hated being the source of Leon’s irritation or disappointment. In the early years of being trained by him, you didn’t care much for his approval or wisdom. You blamed that on the misplaced rage carried by a young adult who thought they knew everything about the world.

It took you years to fully appreciate him as someone who wanted the best for you, hell that was his job. Now at the age of 25, you weren’t so young anymore, you knew the price you had to pay to be in this profession.

You were an adult, one trained to kill and protect others, but there was still the inner child that needed to be handled more than the warrior itself. Leon couldn’t always be yelling at you whenever you made a mistake and he knew that. He also knew he couldn’t always expect a perfect performance from you all the time, that wouldn’t be fair or reasonable.

“Fine”, was the only thing you could say, not wanting to argue with Leon at the moment. You grabbed your bag to throw it over your shoulder as your body started to ache from the earlier brawl.

“Are you done preaching to me now?”, you were still annoyed, but it was your stubbornness starting to show. The longer you stood in front of Leon, the more you felt the adrenaline wearing off, bringing in a new wave of sore spots you will deal with later. 

“Yes, I’m done with the talk”, Leon expressed more calmly, ready to give you some time to cool off after this.

“Good”, as petty as it may seem, you wanted the last word, walking away from him with a scowl on your face. You left Leon in the training room and headed towards the showers, hoping it would wash away your growing vexation. 

It was a brief visit to the infirmary to get your new bruises checked out. The only real place you’re so familiar with happened to be the four walls of this room, covered in white paint and filled with the smell of rubbing alcohol. The nurse wasn’t surprised to find you here again seeking her care, quiet as she bandaged up your bloody knuckles, silently thankful that you didn’t break your hand. 

You were used to the pain, it was a no-brainer given your occupation, but Leon’s dismay stung more than the disinfectant the nurse used on your skin. You’ve both been working together for long enough that there was no need to keep lashing out at one another. Yet every time it seemed to happen, upsetting Leon hurt more than the strain of fighting altogether.

Hearing a knock at your office door, you called out to the sound, noticing Leon stepping inside with a bag of your favorite candy in his hand. You raised an eyebrow at him, already familiar with his antics after one of you upset the other.

“Are you trying to bribe me?”, you asked him, skimming through the file in your hand and pretending to read it over.

“Yeah, I am. Will it work?”, Leon challenged as he handed you the bag, hoping to win back some of your favor. He wouldn’t let you forget the lecture, but he wanted to assure you that he didn’t intend to make you feel bad about it.

Internally you were smiling, enjoying the fact that he made these small gestures to get on your good side again. After learning how to work with him, you did your best to maintain the relationship you currently had. He was your partner after all, and frankly, he was the only person you had in your inner circle.

“Maybe if you buy me lunch every day next week I’ll think about forgiving you”, you suggested to him half-seriously, opening the bag of candy and popping a piece in your mouth, humming at the taste of the treat. 

You and your damn sweet tooth.

“Fine, fine. Lunch for the rest of next week. Will that make you happy?”, he rolled his eyes as he took a seat in the chair across from you.

“Yes, it will. I love it when you’re generous”, your usual pout was replaced with your lips curling upwards. You never showed this softer side to anyone else other than Leon. He saw it as a privilege, being one of the very few people who knew you this well was something he was grateful for.

“Are you still upset with me?”, he asked you, leaning back in the armchair and crossing his arms over his chest. His blue eyes were as sympathetic as they were bright, like a puppy dog craving reassurance after upsetting their owner.

“No, not anymore. You know how I get when you argue with me Leon. I’m not a rookie anymore”, you replied, sucking on the hard piece of candy in your mouth as you spoke. “I am sorry for lashing out like that at training. She just…I hate being seen as some personal lap dog”  

“No need to be sorry, I’m just mad at the situation. And you’re not my lap dog, you’re my right hand”, Leon offered you a compassionate look. You were such a child at times, especially when it came to being criticized. But you were stubborn, and it was something he had to learn to live with.

“I know. I’m just fed up with other people not accepting that by now”, you shrugged, releasing a heavy sigh.

Leon understood what you were going through, considering he had been in the same situation so many times he’d lost count. Constantly having your abilities doubted and being underestimated by your colleagues was never easy to handle, it caused unneeded tension that makes you lose focus on the bigger picture. No matter what others thought, you’d always be the best in your field at the end of the day, and a big part of that had to do with what you’ve learned from him over the past few years.

You could feel Leon’s eyes moving towards your jaw and cheek, spotting the faint redness of your skin that darkened under the office light. You knew what he was thinking, a common aspect of your relationship involved him worrying about you, probably more than he’d care to admit.

“I’m fine Leon, it’ll heal. I get hurt enough as it is”, you tried to ease his nerves, but he wouldn’t brush it off as fast as you’d like.

“It’s still my job to take care of you. That doesn’t stop just because you’re older”, he noted in defiance as you hummed with a nod.

Leon’s been responsible for you since you were transferred to the D.S.O. a few months before your 21st birthday. It was a tedious process of trial and error to get you to trust him, to show you that he wasn’t a threat or trying to do more harm than good.

Despite being your mentor, Leon has always been somewhat of a guardian in the years you’ve been in the organization. He took care of you in his unique way, working hard to teach you everything he knows and how to survive, while also showing you the good things life has to offer. As you got older, the guardian title wasn’t the best fit for him, so now you consider him a wise friend. 

His expertise in the field allowed you to become an irreplaceable asset to the D.S.O., no longer being just an experiment, but now the perfect agent. Leon had shaped and molded you to become what the D.S.O had envisioned for you once your mentorship began, meeting their expectations and surpassing them with ease.

He saved your life doing that, and it’s a debt you’ll never be able to repay. You didn’t need to pay him back for anything anyway, especially when he was the one who decided to train you.

Leon never really cared much about his work for the government, fully aware that he was another pawn in their overplayed chess game. His encounter with you was something he initially didn’t want, assuming you’d be another setback that would haunt him like a ghost in the night. But as the years grew between you two, he thought you may be one of his greatest achievements in the organization. 

“The bruising’s fine, it’ll wear off. Besides, you’ve seen me get worse so a few punches to the face doesn’t mean anything to me”, you reassured him. Your experience working as a federal agent gifted you a collection of scars that has steadily grown over time, the most prominent one being a white line on your upper cheek from a knife graze you got early on in your training. It’s faded but it was still there, a constant reminder of your place in this life. 

“Yeah, that’s true. You have had worse than this,” his gaze was fixated on your face as he studied your features. He knew every inch of your facial structure, every curve, and every scar. The bruises you had received in the fight were nothing new to him and nothing to worry about. That didn’t mean he hated seeing you hurt any less. 

“Don’t need you getting worried about me, I’ll be okay. I don’t break so easily”, you said, taking in his low hum of agreement.

“What did the higher-ups say after the fight? Hopefully, I’m not on probation again”, you leaned forward on the desk to face him directly now, his expression neutral when you mentioned the other associates.

“They didn’t say anything. I told them what happened, said the other agent antagonized you, and they agreed with my explanation. You’re not on probation, actually, you’re more than welcome to go on another mission with me if you’re interested”, being friends with one of the founding members of the D.S.O. certainly had its perks. 

“Thank god. I was going to be pissed if they benched me to do admin work again”, you were relieved that you wouldn’t have to worry about staying behind when there was a mission to complete.

“I know you want me on the next mission anyway. Nobody else can handle your banter”, you joked with him, your sense of humor adopted by his entirely. Leon chuckled at your words, wanting you by his side whenever he went on another assignment.

“It’s not all just about business. Plus, you’re good at making me crack a smile when I’m pissed off”, he smirked as he spoke.

“That’s because I know you well enough to do that by now. Your life would be boring without me”, you laughed under your breath.

He was a hard nut to crack, having such an intense wall to break down just like you did. Once you both managed to soften up to each other, it was smooth sailing from there. Leon knew you better than most, as you did the same with him. You were almost two halves of a person, always on the same page when it came to everything; work, social gatherings, and just in general. He was a part of your life, just like you were a part of his. In sync and inseparable.

“So when do we leave? Are we having a going away party too, as in I drink at the bar and you pay for me?”, you took in the shades of pretty blues as he looked back at you. 

“Next Tuesday, we’ll be heading to an unknown location. But we can’t have a party without you drinking all my money away”, Leon teased, aware of what was to come.

“Then it’s settled. Mission next week, and tonight we drink a little bit. Some beers before, and then whiskey after”, you confirmed happily, a grin on your face that seemed to brighten up the room.

“Sounds like a plan to me. A few beers and then whiskey after,” his smile mirrored your own.

It was a ritual before you went on missions together, having some drinks after a day of briefings. Usually, it was mostly Leon watching over you as you got plastered, and when the mission was done, you’d drink some more in celebration to relieve the stress.

“Good, then I’ll see you later on?”, you didn’t need his answer, but you liked hearing that he was all in.

“Yeah, I’ll be seeing you later”, Leon gave you a tilt of his head, standing up from the chair he was lounging in.

“Just don’t blackout this time, I’d hate to carry you back home again”, he reminded you, your bad drinking habits were a tad too much when the occasion didn’t call for it. Most of that was his fault, he introduced you to the world of alcohol when you were legally allowed to drink, but you didn’t blame him. It was either cigarettes or alcohol in your selection of vices, so you picked your poison.

“Yeah yeah, I know. I won’t this time, promise”, you kept it in mind to lay off the booze tonight.

Leon stepped out of your office with a genuine smile on his face, the small crinkles at the corner of his eyes visible in the room’s lighting. Your chest warmed up at the thought of spending time with him, the feeling subtle enough to acknowledge before you buried it down and focused back on the file in your hand.

He knew what you felt. It was easy to read your face, having gotten so used to doing so that depicting your moods became second nature to him. He walked out of your office and down the hall with the same comfort he gets when he was close to you, his expression returning to neutral once he brushed it off.

Another Friday night out with your superior, nothing out of the ordinary.

©️ ovaryacted 2024. Please don’t repost, copy, translate, or feed into any AI. Support your fellow creators by reblogging, commenting, and liking!

[pillowprincess4logan]

" We're looking for a white male, approximately mid to late 30s, between 5"6 to 6"2 "

" wheels up in 30 "

[marvelwitchergilmore]

Small Touches and Simple Gestures

Summary: Javier Peña x Fe!Reader -> For years you've pretended to be married to avoid unwanted attention. But what happens when the lie you've been living, suddenly becomes true. Well, at least a part of it.

Disclaimer: Swearing, fluff, one of the agents making a move on Reader though nothing happens (Javi stops it). Fake dating, falling in love, embarrassing mothers, office romance. Heavy smut towards the end, so 18+. Happy ending. A lot of smaller intimate moments between Javi and Reader away from the smut, too. Kinda a long one. Not Proof Read.

If someone had told you that three years into working with Agent Javier Peña you’d be wearing a wedding band, marrying you to him for at the very least, the foreseeable future…you wouldn’t have believed them. 

And you would be right not to. Because that, technically, wasn’t what it was for. 

And it had all started with a question that Peña asked you one day as you sat at your desk. 

“Was he real?”

You slowly tore your attention away from the case file in front of you. “What?”

“Your husband.”

For a moment you forgot all about how you’d first come to interact with Peña. He had asked you out. Well, flirted heavily then asked you out. 

“What husband?”

Javi stood as he talked, walking towards your desk and sitting down on the edge of it closest to you. “One day you’re wearing a wedding ring telling me you’re married, the next it’s gone.”

You looked at your hand. “Oh. Yeah.” You decided to admit the truth. “I made him up.”

Despite his constant theories, he was still shocked. “What?”

“I made him up.”

You said it as if you were asking him how his day was. Like it was nothing new. 

“You made him up?”

“You try and be a single woman in this office who doesn’t like getting hit on by every guy who thinks with his dick,” you told him. “See how quickly you make up a fake family.”

He had to laugh. “But I hit on you.”

You looked at him, suppressing an already knowing smirk on your face. “My point exactly.”

“Think I got something.” From the door, Steve came sweeping inside and threw a couple of files down on Javi’s desk. The previous topic was dropped for now but you took a moment to revel in the shock graced on Peña’s face. 

However, a few hours later, it was brought back up again. 

You’d been standing in the evidence locker, looking for yet another misplaced case file. Could people not read in this office? Had they lost all sense of the alphabet? You sighed heavily. 

“How long have you been doing it?”

You jumped and found Peña standing behind you. “Jesus, Peña. Make a noise or something. Fuck.” You turned back to the messy shelf in front of you. 

“So?”

You sighed. “Doing what? This? Feels like hours.”

He shook his head and rounded you before leaning against the side of the shelves. “Not the files. You being married.”

“Oh, uh…” You pulled a few hefty files and handed them over to him before reaching down onto the lower shelf and pulling those files up. “Couple years, I guess. Since before the Academy.”

“Why?”

“Didn’t you hear me earlier, or do I need to repeat myself, Peña?”

He shook his head again and put the files down. “No, I heard you. But that’s here. Why did it start?”

You sighed and stopped what you were doing to look at him. “Why are you so interested all of a sudden?”

He let out a small chuckle. “What? Come on, you’re one of the first Agents here to reject me not once, but three different times.”

You raised a subtle eyebrow. “I was married when you did that.”

“The first time, yes.” Javi corrected. “But that was an honest mistake. The second and third time, there was no ring on your finger. And, after this morning, you technically weren’t married at all. Look, just answer my questions and then I’ll drop it forever.”

“You promise?”

He held up his hand. “Scouts honour.”

You gave a questioned hum. “It’s difficult to imagine you as a Scout.”

“Y/l/n.”

You groaned. “Fine. It started because I got asked out a couple of times by this guy. He seemed nice and all but I wasn’t interested. So, when he asked why I kept saying no, I told him I was married. Swapped my rings over under the bar top before showing it to him. He took it well, apologised and said my husband was a lucky fella.”

Peña continued to listen. 

“Then I moved away. The second time I was with someone but this guy just kept hitting on my friend. She went to the bathroom and then he started on me. Told him I was with someone. He didn’t believe me. So, I showed him my wedding band. Said my friend was married, too. He,” you sighed. “Eventually backed-off. After that it just kinda became my go-to. People I interviewed preferred to see a married woman than a single woman being a cop. Don’t get me wrong, I didn’t start out my job as married. But the minute the compliments, and the touching and the dates being pre-arranged because they expected me to say yes…once they all started, I started wearing my wedding ring.”

“So why take it off?”

You shrugged. “Guess I must have forgotten. Besides, nobody has tried anything in the last couple of years. We’ve all been too busy.”

For a moment, Peña’s demeanour seemed to shift. “But I’ve flirted with you.”

You smiled a tired smile and stepped back from the files for a moment. “I work with you, Peña. I like you but I think I’m immune.”

“That hurts.” He deadpanned before placing a hand over his heart. “That…wow.”

You laughed. “I think you’ll bounce back.”

And he did. That night he walked out telling Murphy he had a date with the stall girl he’d met a few days ago. 

The following weeks were hectic as different cases made their way across your desk, all with connections to Peña and Murphy’s biggest case; Pablo Escobar. 

From interviewing victim’s families, to interrogations, to the crappy coffee in the break room. Your days and nights were spent looking over files and dealing with your case loads. Until one afternoon in the breakroom led to something you never had expected. 

There was another Agent working at the Embassy. You’d seen him around a few times, shared a conversation or two. But most importantly, he had seen your wedding ring. You hadn’t missed his behaviour over the last couple of days. It started with smiles in the hallway – innocent enough. Then you found him in your breakroom more. Apparently the coffee was better. Then he was sitting at your table during lunch – apparently his partner was out for the day and he felt like some company. You didn’t miss his eyes clocking your hand. 

“Your wedding band. It’s gone.”

You didn’t know why at the time, but the lie fell from your lips. “Oh, yeah, It’s in for a cleaning. It had a couple dark patches and scuffs on it.”

More things started creeping up. Like how he always stood just that little bit closer and not in a comforting way, when you were both talking. Or how his eyes looked you up and down before you got to speaking distance from each other. 

Then in the breakroom, the ‘compliments’ started. How your hair looked – how it always looked. How you always made ‘women’s clothes look so much better’. How he enjoyed spending time with you because you actually talked to him. 

“You know,” he trailed a finger up your arm and you were three seconds away from breaking it and running to take a scalding hot shower. “I was thinking we could get away for a while. After all, we both deserve a break. Maybe take these lunches outside of the office.”

You stepped back. “I’m married.”

“Oh, come on, we both know that’s a sham.” He told you, taking a step closer as you took another one back. “You never bring him to office parties, there’s no pictures on your desk-”

“I don’t need to prove to you or to anyone else that I’m married.”

He laughed. He actually laughed. “You’re not about to tell me he lives in Canada are you?”

“No. He-”

“He’s right here.”

It was safe to say you were shocked, but the agent didn’t seem to notice as he turned round and found Javi standing in the hallway. 

“Peña. I was just-”

“Scaring my wife?”

The guy was turning paler by the second and yet somehow his ego carried him through. “You mean work-wife, because I have to say Javi, that doesn’t really count.”

“How about a marriage certificate? Does that count for you?” Peña finally found you by his side before he whispered to you.

“You okay, cariño?” All you could do was nod, the shock of him pretending to be your husband still settling over you. 

He looked back to the agent who had been hitting on you. “I’m gonna tell you this once and only once. Hit on my wife or scare her again, and I’ll kill you.”

“Javi-”

“I don’t think Messina would be happy to learn one of her best Agents was being sexually harassed.”

He nodded, backing away. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

Javi shook his head. “Not to me. To her.”

Awkwardly, the guy looked from Javi, around the room, back to Javi and then to you. “I’m sorry.”

You didn’t move. You didn’t speak. Peña’s your husband?

“You can go.” 

Taking Javi’s instructions, he left. Peña then waited a minute before turning towards you. “You sure you’re okay?”

You nodded. “I’m fine. Thank you, by the way.”

“Don’t mention it.”

“But you shouldn’t have done that.”

“What?” He asked, holding the coffee pot in one hand and your mug in the other. 

“Javi…” You looked around the room before looking back at him. “This is gonna spread around the office. You and I -- married.”

He shrugged. “What’s the big deal? Now you’ve got a physical person to pretend to be your husband.”

“Javi.” He handed you your cup of coffee before pouring his own. “Please tell me you are aware of your own reputation? And the fact that we are colleagues? And the fact that I have been making a husband up for god knows how long? People are going to know this is fake and then I’ll be judged – heavily – for it.”

“Why would you be judged?”

You rested a hand on your hip. “This is gonna look like I’ve used you to be my pretend husband and everyone will just feel sorry for me and make a big joke about it with you.”

“Except I’m the one that told him.” Peña pointed out. “If anything, that’s what’s going to spread around the office.”

“Ah yes, I can see the headlines now; ‘Agent Javier ‘slut’ Peña finally ties himself down with a female colleague.’.”

He shrugged. “We don’t have to be tied down if you don’t want to.”

You hit him on the arm. “Be serious.”

“Look,” he set his coffee cup down and took you by the shoulders. “If it becomes anything then we just fake it. We already spend most of our time together anyway, and who hasn’t had an office romance once in their life?”

“I haven’t.”

Peña paused for a second before nodding. “Congratulations. You’ve just lost your office romance virginity.”

“Peña.”

He shook it off. “All I’m saying is, if it becomes a thing, we just…roll with it.”

“Roll with it?”

He nodded. “Roll with it.”

“There’s a chance our careers hang in the balance because I’m pretty sure this breaks at least three rules in HR. And your grand solution is to…’roll…with it.’.”

Javi nodded once more. “We’ll be fine. I promise.”

It was not fine. Neither of you were fine. Especially considering two days later you were both forced into Messina’s office where, before you could spit out the truth, Messina interrupted and said she didn’t want to know. Just that you both had to remain completely professional and that if someone ever caught either of you, you’d both be suspended. 

So, things remained somewhat neutral. You both received a couple of looks from other co-workers. Murphy teased both of you relentlessly, despite being the only one to know the truth since you stopped the elevator when all three of you were inside to tell him as much. 

But then the loud rumours started and people didn’t even try to hide them. 

Whilst pouring you and Peña a cup of coffee each – something you had done almost everyday for three years, you could hear people gossiping. 

“Maybe he knocked her up. Shotgun wedding, you know?”

“I don’t think they’re even a couple. I mean, they never show any kind of affection to each other.”

One disagreed with that statement. “No, I’ve seen him with her a few times. Little touches here and there. Must be their love language. Small touches and simple gestures.”

“That’s cute, I guess. But I kinda expected more from Javi. He was always so…you know.”

The woman beside her sighed, “Yeah.”

You walked away more confused about life than you had been since before you started highschool. 

It was clear the rest of the office ‘knew’ about ‘you and Javi’. And that they each had a different opinion on the matter. And some of them you didn’t even know about, but Javi did. 

He’d heard everything from your marriage to him being a sham because he got you pregnant, to both male and female staff asking him “why y/n?”. Except, it was never in a friendly manner. To the men, it was either because they thought “Javi could have any choice he wanted, and he went for her?”, or because he’d gone for one of the women they had wanted “a shot at” themselves. And to the women it was…much of the same thing, with an added jealous streak wondering why he went for “the one woman who didn’t want” him, when most of the other women who’d worked with him “actually wanted” him. 

Javi’s eyes trailed your every move from the coffee station, back to your desk and then towards him. “You okay?”

You zoned back into reality and handed him his coffee. “Yeah. Fine. What have you got?”

Turning the case file around, he told you. 

Around a month or so later, not much had changed. People were still gossiping about your marriage to Peña, the case was gathering little evidence so the constant reviewing of previous case loads was underway. Between keeping up the lie of your marriage to Javi – despite neither of you having to do much out of your normal routine – and the case work and the constant heart attack you got when Messina would stop walking when stood directly between your desk and Peña’s before humming and moving along, you were running out of energy. 

“Come to mine after work.”

You looked around. People were looking but they were too far out of earshot to hear. 

You took the paper from Javi. 

“Why?”

“You’re tired, and I’m tired watching you eat that shitty stuff from the cafeteria. I’m cooking dinner.”

You looked up at him, shocked. “You can cook?”

He smiled. “Yeah, yeah. After work. I’ll leave the door unlocked for you.”

Javi tapped your desk twice before walking away and looking around the office. Everyone who had been looking quickly looked away before looking back at you. Once they found you looking, they turned back to their work. 

For a moment, you looked at the half stale coffee on your desk. It would be nice to have a decent meal considering you’d been eating left-overs for about a week and half. 

And he kept his promise. 

Javi had left work an hour before you were supposed to. He’d grabbed his jacked off the hook behind your desk, bent down and pressed a kiss to the top of your head, your body too tired to fight off leaning into him when he did so. You had meant to clock out of work an hour later but staring at words, losing concentration and trying to focus back in meant when you finally looked at the clock, you were getting close to being forty minutes late. 

“Shit.”

Not bothering to drop your stuff off in your apartment two floors up, you found Javi’s door unlocked like he’d said and you walked inside. 

It smelt like heaven. Good, hot food. And Javi. 

It was quiet as you walked down his hallway and eventually found him relaxing on the sofa, his legs thrown across the rest of it. He was watching reruns. 

“Relax,” you could hear the smile in his voice despite not being able to see his face. “Figured you’d be late. Food’ll be ready soon.”

With a relieved sigh, you dropped your bag by the steps and walked around. He moved his legs for you to sit down and he watched you for a moment as you pushed the heels of your hands into your eyes and leaned back. 

“Tired?”

“Exhausted,” you admitted. 

“Come ‘ere.” His voice was soft and quiet as he reached out for you by the shoulder. Looking at him for a moment before silently agreeing, you let him pull you down until eventually you were laying beside him, your head on his chest, his legs tangled with yours. 

It took him a moment, but Javi removed your hair-tie letting your hair loose before running his fingers through it. You relaxed almost immediately, feeling the once growing headache slowly melt away with each touch of his hand. 

You could have fallen asleep but he didn’t let you. “You’ve gotta eat. I didn’t slave over a hot stove for nothing.”

You groaned a little and buried yourself deeper into his side. “How are you this calming?”

“It’s my natural touch.” Javi told you before kissing the top of your head and sitting up. “Come on. Dinner’s ready. Then I promise, you can fall asleep.”

“Hallelujah.” 

It took you a moment but your head eventually stopped spinning long enough for you to sit up and walk over to the table where Javi had set down both of your meals. And it was one of the best you’d ever had; either because he was a great cook, or you were starving enough that any food that wasn’t cafeteria left-overs would taste like heaven at that moment. Though, you had a feeling it was the first one. 

In silence, you both washed and dried. Until you spoke out the pressing question on your mind. 

“What happens if we meet ‘the one’?”

“What ‘one’?” Javi handed you another freshly washed plate. 

“I mean,” you spun it through the dish towel. “To everyone else, we’re married. But what if we end up meeting the person we actually want to date and marry? What do we do then?”

Javi shrugged. “Guess we get divorced.”

“But we’re not actually married.”

“Then we play it by ear. They say when you know you know…maybe when we know, we just…tell them the truth. But I doubt that’s gonna happen.” Javi nearly crapped himself. “For me, not you. I doubt that’ll happen for me.”

You looked at him. “Why?”

For a moment, he was quiet. Thinking. Deliberating. “Back in Texas, I was gonna get married. Lorraine. She was a wonderful woman but…I don't know. I was driving to the church and I just stopped.”

“You left her at the altar?”

“I never made it to the church,” he admitted. “I don’t know. I suppose at some point I’d settle down but…” Javi shrugged. “I can see it happening for you though, so, whenever you do meet him, I can be there to help explain this whole…situation we’ve got going on.”

You laughed a little at that. “Thanks.”

Twenty minutes later, you were half asleep before Javi pulled you over to him once more. The last thing you could remember was you taking a deep breath in, the scent of him, his home and his cooking fill your senses. 

When you woke up, you found yourself still on the sofa, the news playing on the TV and Javi cooking in the kitchen. It took you a while before your brain registered you weren’t still dreaming and you’d fallen asleep not only at Peña’s, but also on him. 

“Hey,” Peña shook you back awake. “Breakfast is ready.”

You placed your hand over his and nodded. “Okay.”

Neither of you said anything when you ate, just listened to the news that passed over the speakers of the TV. 

“Who taught you to cook?” You asked, turning to look at him as he drove you both to work. 

“My dad. My mom helped, but dad was the one who burnt less stuff.”

After eating, you’d run to your apartment to get a fresh change of clothes and run a brush through your hair, only to be greeted by your husband at the bottom of the stairs. “I’ll drive us to work.”

So, now you were driving to work with Javi before hopping out of his car and being led with a warm hand at the bottom of your back through the hallways of work before you both finally reached your desks. 

And for the first time in weeks, you finally had the energy to get through your work day. And so did Javi. 

Although things started to change when you got a surprise visit from your mother.

You’d been working for weeks on the same case and in between all of the case work, the fake marriage and the few months that followed, you’d forgotten to write to your mother. 

It was her one agreement with you moving to Columbia. She knew there was nothing she could do to stop you – it was your job and you were good at it, plus, despite all of the gear grinding you had to do every now and again, you loved it. But knowing she didn’t accept your decision to work as DEA in Columbia would have slowly killed you – and her, too. 

Any time she called, you’d either been dead asleep – either at yours or Javi’s – or at work. So, she took the notion to come and see you. 

So when you walked down the hall towards your office and heard your mother’s voice ask you a question, you felt your entire body crash to a screaming halt before realising what and why she was asking. 

“You’re married?” 

“Mom.”

Your mom called your full name and walked towards you. “What this lovely woman just told me better not be true, or else that means I’ve missed my daughter’s wedding.”

You tried your best to remain calm and relaxed. Two emotions you were desperately clinging onto for dear life. “She tells me his name is Javier Pen…”

For a moment, she looked back to the secretary who nodded and whispered his name again for your mother to repeat with full confidence to you. “Javier Peña.”

“Mom, maybe it’s best we-”

Then the secretary spoke up in excitement. “Oh, there he is. Javi!”

Looking up from his own case file, about to turn down the hallway, he found who was calling him before seeing who was standing in front of them. You and, from what he could guess, your mother. 

Shit. Your mother? No. She was back in the States. Maybe he’d remembered her face wrong from the picture behind your desk. 

Walking over, Javi’s hand came to your lower back before he quickly brushed a kiss against your cheek. “Cariño, you okay?”

You tried to remain calm as you said the next sentence. “Javi, this is my mother. Mom, this is my..husband..Javi.”

Then something you hadn’t expected to happen, happened. 

“It’s nice to finally meet you, Mrs Y/l/n. Y/n’s told me a lot about you.”

“I wish I could say the same.” But she still shook his hand and allowed him to press a light kiss to the back of it. 

Carefully, Javi stepped back and pulled you closer towards him, your mother’s eyes never once stopping to not examine the couple that stood in front of her. 

Javi nodded. “We are sorry about that. But, maybe we can make it up to you.”

You looked at Javi a little panicked. But your mother was already interested. “Oh?”

“I’m guessing you’re staying here for a few days? Come and stay with us. I can make us dinner and we can all get to know each other.”

Then your mom smiled. Apparently Javi already had her approval. “Well…I think that would be lovely. But don’t think either of you are getting off lightly. I missed my daughter’s wedding that I didn’t even know about.”

“Honey, give your mother our address, I’ll ask-”

She shook her head. “No, no. You all seem busy. I can take myself there. And I’d like to see what’s around the market stalls. Is there anything I can bring for dinner?”

Javi shook his head. “No, not at all.”

You smiled. “He’s got it covered, mom. Just bring yourself.”

“Alright then. Well, I look forward to seeing you both for dinner.”

In the space of five minutes you’d all said your goodbye’s and you had ever so sweetly pulled your husband towards your office before closing the door and blinds and turning back to your partner. 

“What the hell are you thinking?”

Javi shrugged. “She’s come down here to see you. We might as well make the effort.”

“We? Javi. We don’t live together. She’s gonna take one look around my apartment and realise I still live there. She’s gonna take one more look at my face and realise everything that’s happened is a complete sham and then she’s gonna parade it around town that I’m still single. She won’t mean it harshly, but she will.”

“So, we don’t tell her and just say we haven’t had a chance to move things since getting married. We’ll be okay.”

You let out a panicked laugh before you started pacing. “I knew this was a bad idea. It’s bad enough we’re lying to people here.”

“You’re the one that started it before I got roped in.”

“Hey! You roped yourself into this. You were the one that said you were my husband.”

“Would you have preferred for Agent Dickbag to keep pushing?!”

You took a breath. “Javi…I don’t know if I can lie to her. What…what do I tell my family when they find out? This was just meant to keep people like Agent Dickbag away…”

Reading the panic all over your body, Javi stood and walked towards you until you were wrapped in his arms. “Hey, it’ll be okay. We’ll keep the secret up long enough to make sure nobody else finds out the truth, and then you can just say we rushed into things. We got a quick divorce and moved on, civilly.”

“I think you missed your calling in Acting.” You told him. “I think my mom already has your seal of approval.”

“Really?” He pulled back a little and smiled. “That’s a first.”

“We’ll be okay?”

He nodded. “We’ll be okay.”

And you believed him. 

Because it was true. 

In the space of about fifteen minutes, you and Javi managed to move some things from your apartment, into his to make it seem more…homely. Like two people actually lived there. Especially since your mom would be living in your apartment for the next couple of days until she flew back home to the rest of your family. 

“Will she really check the bedroom?” Javi called from the kitchen. 

You’d moved some things to the second bedside table. One or two books, a couple of hair-ties, plasters, “stray” pens. You tried your best to make it look believable as possible. 

“You don’t know her like I do. This woman is Jessica Fletcher. Unsuspecting to the world, but in fact sees everything. Trust me, you do not want to end up in interrogation with my mother. Happened to a perp once. She came in to visit my dad but he was wrangling a couple of the officers so she walked around, found the perp sitting in holding and she actually got a confession out of him. Cops had been trying all day and nothing. A five minute conversation with my mother and they got a full written confession out of him.”

Javi gave a low whistle. “Wow.”

“Yeah. So, trust me, what I’m doing? It’s gonna, hopefully, save us some grief.”

Javi was still cooking by the time your mom knocked on his door and you brought her inside. Immediately her eyes scanned the place picking up on the pictures, books and music. 

“It smells delicious.”

“He’s a good cook.”

And for the first couple of minutes everything ran smoothly. Your mother did everything you’d expected her to do. She even passed Javi in the kitchen to look into your bedroom. 

“She really did it.” Javi mouthed. 

“Told you so,” you mouthed back. 

“Mom, do you wanna come and sit down? I can get you a drink.”

“I’ll have a soda if you have it, please.”

You got your mom a soda and poured it into a glass with ice, handing it to her as she stood still examining your home. 

“So, how is he in bed?” She whispered a little too loud to you. 

You felt yourself go bright red. Redder still when you heard Javi chuckle from the kitchen. “Mom!”

“What? I’m allowed to ask my daughter these questions. I need to know you’re being satisfied in every aspect of your marriage.”

You groaned and covered your eyes. “Mom.”

“You’re being careful? Using condoms? You know pulling out doesn’t work as birth control.”

You could have died. “Mom, please. Stop.”

Javi let out a small laugh as he walked from the kitchen and handed you a drink. “Mrs Y/l/n, if you really want to know-”

“Oh no. No, Javi, please. Please don’t encourage her.”

“We’re being safe. Having a family right now probably wouldn’t be the best move for either of us.”

Your mother just graced him with a soft smile. “Well, I’m glad to hear it.”

“I’m not,” you groaned a little. “Can we please change the conversation?”

“You know, she’s always been like this.” Your mom told Javi who only seemed to revel in your terror. 

“Really? This isn’t a new thing?”

“No,” you mom told him. “She went just as red when I gave her the birds and the bees talk.”

“That’s because you decided to tell me in the middle of my middle school hallway during a Parent’s Evening.”

“And when I took her to the doctors to get her on the pill.”

You covered your face. “I’m in hell.”

Javi’s hand reached for your shoulder and shook you lightly as he sat on the arm of the chair beside you. You leaned into him. 

“I’d finally got it out of her that she’d had sex and next-”

“And next thing I’m being wrangled into an office chair with the doctor having my mother shout from the rooftops her daughter was no longer a virgin.”

Your mom gasped. “It wasn’t like that,”

You leaned into your husband who’d just let out a small laugh. “Please make it stop.”

“Okay, I’ll drop it.”

“Thank you.”

“But I’m glad to know you’re being satisfied. Your face tells me more than you think.”

“Okay!” You stood up quickly and tried to run away, only to feel Javi’s hand reach out and pull you back, spinning you to stand by him. From the light red in his cheeks, he felt a little embarrassed, too, but he seemed to handle it a lot better than you. 

He was chuckling. “Don’t think you’re able to run from this. I wanna know more about you from your mom.”

“Doesn’t mean I have to be here for it.” You tried to make a break for it again, but Javi caught you and for a moment, the rest of the room seemed to slowly disappear from sight as you found yourself trapped in his hands and arms, and his gaze on you, just as yours was on his. And for a moment, you wondered what it would be like if you kissed him. 

Little did you know, he’d been thinking the exact same thing. 

Then a timer went off. 

“That’ll be the food.” Javi kissed a quick peck to your temple before standing and walking towards the kitchen, leaving your gaze to trail after him. 

“You really do love each other,” your mom pointed out from her spot on the sofa. “I can see why you got married. You both need to tell me what your wedding was like!”

And so you did over dinner. With the added linger of whatever had happened when he’d pulled you closer to him. 

You caught Javi looking at you a few times, and subsequently, he’d caught you, too. And, without rehearsal, you’d both managed to bullshit your way through explaining why you’d both decided to get married so quickly. 

From you and Javi, your mother had learned you’d both met when you started in Columbia and you were both ‘friends’ for a while. Not much had to be lied about in that department. Javi’s reputation. Your “ability” to make every man that asked you out believe you were taken. How you’d worked together for a long time before becoming actual friends. Then the lies started…right?

About how you and Javi made a true friendship of sorts over the late nights working, swapping smaller stories until something changed. 

“It was like…my heart had stopped and rebooted itself. Suddenly, everything felt like it had shifted and changed somehow.” Peña explained to your mom. “Nothing had ever been more…clearer and more daunting than ever.”

Then Javi looked at you, and you found a mirrored expression. Sadness? Confusion? Desperation? Fear? Realisation? You didn’t know what to call it, but whatever it was, you felt it. For some unknown reason, everything he’d just said rang true in your ears, your head and even your heart. 

Nothing had ever been more clearer and more daunting than ever.

By the time your mom decided she was ready for bed, you were already fast asleep against Javi. At some point in the evening when he’d sat beside you, he’d slung his arm behind you and between the warmth and familiarity of him, you’d let yourself truly relax. 

“I’ll walk you up.”

Your mom shook her head as Javi led her towards the door. “I know my way and you’re both tired. I’ll be okay. Get her to bed.”

Javi looked back at you for a moment and smiled.

“You really do love her.” It wasn’t a question, but a statement. Your mom smiled at her supposed son-in-law. “I understand why she fell for you, but I hope you know, just because you’re the first one of her boyfriends, well, husband now. But just because you’re the first I approve of, doesn’t mean I won’t be judging you. You look after her, and you look after her well. Love her everyday. It’s not every day someone gets to spend the rest of their lives with my daughter. I hope you see that as a privilege.”

Javi nodded. “Yes, ma’am, I do.”

Javi was telling the truth and your mom nodded. “Good. And thank you for dinner. Sleep well.”

“You, too, Mrs Y/l/n.”

Javi waited until he heard your apartment door lock before he shut his own, locked it and kicked off his shoes.

His socks padding his footsteps as he walked back to you, he was careful to pick you up before carrying you to bed and covering you up. You were still fast asleep by the time he climbed into bed beside you, but either way, you naturally rolled towards the slight dip in the bed before reaching out for him like you did almost every time he’d carried you to his bed because you’d fallen asleep in his apartment. 

The only times he didn’t was when he fell asleep with you and woke up as the sun peeked through his blinds in his living room. 

With a contented sigh, you slipped into a dreamless sleep beside him and for a few minutes, he laid awake, listening to your breathing. Then he let his mind slip back through the evening. If the funny feeling in his stomach and chest wasn’t what he hoped it was, but rather was what he suspected it to be, then he would have to soak up your actions as a married couple over the next couple of days before everything went back to semi-normal. 

Because if he was right, and he was growing feelings for you, then these days would have to be enough. Your marriage with him and his marriage to you was meant to be for appearances, only. Nothing real was meant to come out of it, was it? 

Because the feeling in his chest as he looked down at you, asleep by his side and in his arms…that feeling sure felt real. 

Waking up in the morning, you felt more comfortable than usual. No creaky mattress spring giving you a sneak attack from beneath your sofa and into your back, no blinding light coming through curtains you’d forgotten to shut, no cold side to your bed as you turned over. 

Instead, you felt warm. You found warmth. 

Asleep on his front but his arm still across you, you found Javi. Fast asleep, seeming as though not even a gunshot would wake him. 

And rather than jump out of bed or rollaway like you usually would when you found yourself in this position with any man, or even him going off the last couple of months. 

You’d found yourself falling asleep countless times at Javi’s and the majority of the time, you woke up in his bed. 

But waking that morning, especially after the night before, had something feeling different. So you took your time. 

For the first time you…studied him. 

You’d found yourself doing it more and more in recent months. How he sat in a chair, the look on his face when he was annoyed, amused, sometimes even scared. 

And for the first time, maybe ever. He looked…

Peaceful. 

As if it was a Sunday morning and neither of you had to get up for work. Like when he’d wake, you’d both spend the morning in bed before relaxing in your home. 

And for a moment, you let yourself dream about that life. A life where there was no fear of maybe never coming home. A life where you could both…be peaceful. Happy. 

Together, maybe?

After a few moments, you felt a gentle touch against your cheek, and slowly opening your eyes, you found Javi’s hand cupping your cheek, his fingers brushing soft patterns into your skin. 

“Cariño…”

You smiled, finding comfort in the common nickname. “Hey.”

“You been awake long?”

You shook your head, softly. “Not long.”

“Good.” Javi then leaned over and pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. “Come here.”

Granting yourself permission to do as he said, Javi rolled over onto his back and pulled you into his side before he decided to ultimately face you. 

Down your back, he traced a singular line back and forth as you both synced calming breaths and listened to the comfortable silence of the room. 

“We could call in sick.” Javi said after ten minutes. “We’ve built up enough time to take the day off. You could show your mom ‘round.”

“We can’t,” you pointed out. “What about the case?”

“The case will still be there tomorrow. And besides, if something changes, they’ll call us in-”

Then you both heard the front door lock open. 

“Javi-”

Pressing a finger to his lips, he sat up and so did you. Quietly, he moved over towards his bedside table and pulled out his gun before checking the bullets. 

You both heard the door open and just as Javi was about to leap out of bed, you both heard your mother’s voice. 

“Y/n? Javier? You two sleepy heads awake yet?!”

You let out a huge sigh of relief and sat back against Javi’s headboard. “Jesus Christ.”

“Your mom has a key?” Javi put his gun back and closed the draw as he looked back at you. 

“I told you. Jessica Fletcher.” Then you called out to her. “Mom! We’re in here.”

Letting out a breath, Javi sat himself back beside you just as your mom walked into your bedroom. “Mom, you can’t just break in,” you told her, tiredly. 

“I didn’t break in. I had a key.”

“Both of us could have shot you.”

Your mom looked over both of you and gave a coy smile. “Then it’s a good thing I called out then. You both look…well rested.”

It was too early to even pretend what she thought had happened, had happened. So, tearing your eyes from Javi, you looked to your mom. “Why are you here?”

“Because I have made breakfast for both of you since Javi cooked us such a wonderful dinner last night.”

“Mrs Y/l/n, you really didn’t-”

“Hush now. I was happy to do it. Now, chop chop.” Your mom clapped her hands. “There’s plenty of time for this,” she gestured to you, Javi and the bed, “later. Come on. Before the day is gone.”

And as she walked out, you felt yourself collapse into Javi’s sheets, already feeling your face go hot. 

“She really doesn’t hold back, does she?”

“No.” Your voice was muffled through the sheets. 

Ultimately, Javi convinced you to take the day off with him and after a homemade breakfast, yet another awkward conversation surrounding love-making in the shower – to which Javi nearly choked on his toast. Both you and Javi had showered (separately) before getting changed and deciding to show your mom around the different places in town. 

And despite the stories shared by your mother; thankfully not all of them made you want a hole in the ground to open up the floor. 

You also found spending the day with Javi, outside of work talk, to be more than pleasurable. With his hand in yours, or his arm around you, holding your own across your stomach, you’d both walked side by side for most of the day. He told your mom some things about Columbia even you didn’t know before, easily sharing some stories of his own childhood when your mom asked. 

And you felt…glad, maybe? Like for the first time since moving to Columbia you were home. And it wasn’t just because your mom was there, but rather because of the person who stuck by your side all day, letting you see behind the personal walls he had up at work. The ones that, if you didn’t look closely, you wouldn’t know were even there. 

Yet, despite the entire day feeling like one giant butterfly in your stomach at every touch, look  and graze you felt from Javi, nothing made it feel like the tornado it was when your mom asked if she could film your ‘first dance’. 

Dinner had been long over and the TV had shut down. In the background, a few different records played until one came on and your mother gasped. 

“Oh, please. Please let me see your first dance. I love this song, and I’ve always imagined seeing you dance to it the way me and your dad do.”

From your side, Javi lifted his hand. It was up to you. 

Looking at your mom’s face, you couldn’t say no. So, you nodded and both stood. Javi started the song from the beginning and turned back to face you. In a matter of moments, you were in his arms, your hand in his whilst your other lay on his arm. You could feel his firm hand at the bottom of your back, holding you up steadily. 

Finally, leaning into each other, you could feel his moustache at the shell of your ear. “Do you trust me?”

“Yes.”

That was when you found out Javi could dance. At the very least, much better than you could. He led you around the small section of the floor, your temple’s still touching and for a small moment, you closed your eyes. 

You’d also both forgotten anybody else was in the room other than you two. Breathing, heartbeats, pulse, chemistry. It all became one. 

And just as the song slowed, Javi lifted his head to look at you. It was like there was a new light to you in the fading sunlight. New features he’d never noticed before. The small freckles dotted across your face, probably having surfaced after a day in the sun. The soft streaks of baby hairs framing your face. The arch and bow of your cupid’s bow and lips. The light flush in your cheeks as for a moment, he caught your eyes doing the same thing he was. 

Looking. Gazing. Studying. All to commit it to memory. 

Javier Peña, for as best as he’d known, he’d never been so scared in all of his life. But there was one final thing he wanted to commit to memory, whether it be good or bad. And if he didn’t do it then, he was afraid he never would. So, for the first time with you, he did what he wanted to do because, and he hoped, by the look on your face, you wanted it, too. 

With the final few notes of the song, he leaned in and pressed a kiss to your lips. It was firm, steady, strong and then softer. The kind of kiss that you feel long after it’s over. Silence washed over the room as the record came to an end and you and Javi found yourselves looking at each other, only realising you weren’t alone when your mom gasped. 

“Oh, that was just beautiful.” She stopped the recording. “Thank you so much for doing that for me.”

You and Javi seemed to step away from each other despite it being the last thing either of you wanted to do in that moment. It wasn’t long after that your mom decided to go upstairs to bed. And once Javi heard the door lock upstairs, he locked his own and took a moment before turning back around to find you. 

But you were already trying to avoid the conversation that came next. 

Javi took his time. You both needed a moment to find clarity. After the faucet had been running for a few minutes, only to be switched off by you as you washed the plates in the bowl of soapy water, Javi stood at the kitchen door. 

He watched you for a moment, wondering what to say. What just happened? I’m sorry? He didn’t mean for it to…be that way? Did you feel it, too? Did you want it, too? Did he cross a line?

Then he realised he didn’t have to say anything at all. 

You felt him before you heard him walk slowly across the kitchen floor and stand by your side. With a gentle hand guiding your arm, he spun you to face him and in the silence, your faces shared a thousand words between each other. 

Javi brushed your hair from your face before gently cupping your face. It took enough time between each of his movements to let you object if you wanted to. You stepped closer into him. 

Then he kissed you. 

Having dropped the sponge into the sink, you felt yourself tumble against him as your own hands came to pull him closer towards you. Things seemed to move slightly quicker than before. His hands moving down your body to eventually lift you up and move you onto the counter top, his fingers pushing their way through your hair as your own pulled him in by his collar to kiss you once more. 

With your legs wrapping around his waist, securing him against you, you let out a small sigh behind your kiss. Javi only chased those small noises more after you made your first one. 

“J-Javi.” You managed to find your voice in between his kisses. “Wait.”

He stopped, forcing himself to pull his lips from yours. And for a moment, all you could hear was his breathing and your heartbeat. Both rapid. Both unsteady. 

“We…we shouldn’t…”

His hands still tangled in your hair and his forehead against yours, he shook his head in agreement. “We shouldn’t be doing this.”

All either of you could do was breathe. Slowly. Trying to catch some form of air that was at least a close equivalent to the others. 

Kissing you was like a lifeline, and without you he was dying. 

His eyes finally gazing into yours, he found your own tracing his face, already reminiscing on the kiss, wanting more. 

Kissing him was like life was finally being pushed back into your lungs, letting you breathe clearly for the first time and without him, nothing was in focus. 

“Fuck it.”

His lips on yours again, he began to devour you and your taste. He could feel your hands pulling him closer to you, like if you’d let go of him, you’d drown. 

He needed you more than he wanted to admit. 

But you didn’t want him to hold back. So leaning away from his kiss for a moment, you made sure he focused on you. 

“Bedroom.”

He was still drunk on your kiss. “Javi, I’m not fucking you on the kitchen counter. Bedroom.”

His lips curved onto a smirk as he pulled you towards the edge and lifted you up. 

“Didn’t anyone tell you we’re married? Cariño, it’s called making love.”

You laughed and so did he before it was muffled out by another kiss. 

By the time morning rolled around, you found yourself wrapped in Javi’s arms, his scent swirling around your senses, locking it into a memory you’d never forget. Even if you wanted to move, you couldn’t. From the arms wrapped around you, to the soreness in your legs, your body was too happily exhausted to move. 

For the next few moments, you watched as he slept peacefully. His mouth parted slightly, simply looking at his mustache made you blush at the memories from barely a few hours previous. Tracing the curves of his face, you leaned over and pressed a light kiss to his cheek. 

His arms twitched around you. “Javi, I need to use the bathroom.”

Still half asleep, he returned the next kiss you pressed to his lips before mumbling; “Come back.”

“I will,” you kissed him once more before climbing out of bed and heading towards the bathroom. 

Whilst in the bathroom, you picked up the long forgotten towels on the floor and picked up the tossed body washes and shampoo bottles from Javi and your haphazard entry into the bathroom after the first two orgasms before the third. 

However, you must have taken too long because as you stood at the bathroom skin, a newly familiar pair of arms made their way from holding your hips, to cradling around your waist. 

You could feel the hair from his moustache as he kissed your bare shoulder, making his way towards your neck where you leaned back against his chest and placed a hand behind his own neck to hold you steady. 

“Javi.”

One of his hands slowly made its way under your top before running his fingers from the top of your chest, across your breast and down below the waistband of your shorts. 

“I missed you.” His tongue dampened the graze of his teeth against your neck. 

“Javi.”

“Is this okay, baby?”

You bit your lip, your hips bucking against his fingers, chasing the pressure he was beginning to swirl around your clit. You hummed a response. 

“I need your words, baby. Is this okay? Do you want this? Because I can stop.”

You shook your head quickly and wrapped your hand around his wrist before he pulled away any further. “No. Don’t stop.”

“Whatever you say, baby.”

With his fingers circling your clit and his mouth having free range of your neck, you felt your knees grow weak. “Want me to stop?”

Again, you shook your head. “I need…I need more, Javi.”

“How many, baby?”

“Two, ohh…” Your mouth opened and you threw your head back against his shoulder, reveling in his fingers slipping inside your cunt and his thumb applied pressure to your clit. Then you heard him chuckle. 

“Asshole.”

“You fucking love it, baby.”

You did. You really did. It wasn’t long before Javi could feel your walls pulsing against his fingers, growing tighter for him. And his dick hadn’t even left his pants yet. 

“You’re so fucking wet, cariño. This for me?”

You found the strength to nod. “Just for you, Javi baby.”

But whatever strength or control you had left disappeared as the wave began to crash over you and you chased Javi’s fingers as they pumped deeper and faster inside of you. “Ride ‘em, baby. Take what you want.”

You moaned his name, almost chanting it as you came over his fingers. “Fuck,” Javi growled. “You’re so fucking hot when you come.”

Letting out a breathy laugh, you felt the ache in your legs, still leaning against Javi. 

“Then maybe you should do it again.”

Sharing a look with Javi, he smirked before biting down on your bottom lip, then kissing it better. Pulling his fingers from inside of you, he slowly spun you around by your hips until you faced him. Once he’d tasted everything he could from your mouth, he teasingly made his way across your jaw, down the length of your neck, under your clothing before pulling your soaked shorts down your legs, leaving your glistening and sensitive cunt for him to see. 

Then he tasted the rest of you. 

Pushing you onto the edge of the sink counter, you white-knuckled the edges in fear of gripping his hair too tight to pull him closer to where you needed him. 

You could feel the burn of his moustache against your inner thighs, panty-line before finally his tongue circled your already sensitive clit. 

“Fuck, Javi.”

“You like that, baby?”

You nodded, “Fuck. Yeah.”

“Want more?”

“Y…yes. Javi, please.” Your hips bucked as you chased the feeling of his tongue licking your pussy. “Fuck, Javi.” You let out a gasp as his tongue dipped inside of you for a moment. “Fuck, right…right there.” With one of your hands tangled in his hair, you pushed him closer in order to taste all of you. 

And just as you leaned back to grant him more access, he pulled back. You whimpered, wanting him back. “Touch yourself.” 

“Javi-”

“I want to see how long you can hold it before I fuck you. Touch yourself.”

So you did. All the while watching him take his sweet time watching you as he pulled down his own underwear and pulled a condom on, pumping himself a couple of times before finally settling closer to you. 

“I want to watch you cum again.” And so he did. 

Filling you with his dick, inch by inch, he felt you stretch around him, swearing as you took him in. And then he took his time with you. Reveling in every needy buck of your hips, chasing his dick before he couldn’t hold back anymore. He needed you just as much as you were begging for him. 

Moaning his name over and over as your orgasm hit you, Javi watched as you came over his dick, him finishing not long after you did. 

Sweaty and covered in sex, Javi pushed the fallen hair from your face and kissed your lips after the silence had settled away from heavy breathing and racing hearts. “We should get cleaned up.”

Pulling his cock from inside of you, he disposed of the condom before walking towards the shower and turning it on. And over the next forty minutes, Javi’s hands were all over your naked body before his fingers tugged at your hair as the tiles of the floor made indents in your knees. By the time you’d both finished, gotten washed and finally dressed, Javi was changing the sheets as you placed the ones from the night before inside his washer. 

For the rest of the day, Javi rarely left your side.

Going back out to the markets with your mom, his hands were constantly finding ways to touch you. His hand pinching onto the skirt of your summer dress, his fingers grazing against your hip and lower back as he changed from standing on one side of you to the other. Holding your hand around you, his arm across your shoulders, his lips in your hair, on the shell of your ear as he talked to you. And when you’d stopped inside a cafe, he sat next to you, his arm across the back of your chair which practically was sitting in between his legs as his body was constantly turned towards you. 

And when you’d both finally gotten home, your mom saying she was going for a nap, the moment Javi’s door shut, the bags were dropped and your back was against the wall of his hallway, his lips on yours. “I’ve been wanting to do that all day.”

“So have I.”

Then a question fell from your lips. “How are we going to keep this up? At work, I mean.”

“They already think we’re married.” He kissed your neck. 

“I’m being serious, Javi.”

“So am I.”

“Javi, Messina already warned us what would happen if she ever caught us. And that was before we were even…”  A couple? Fucking? Dating? Married?

Javi smiled. “So we keep it a secret.”

“Says the guy who can’t keep his hands off me for more than two seconds. You’ll never be able to keep it a secret.”

“Says the woman whose been eye-fucking me all day. Are you sure you can keep a secret?”

“I can keep a secret.” Then Javi noticed your coy smile. “In fact, I’ve been keeping one all day.”

Taking his hand in yours, you pressed his hand to the dip of your hips. He couldn’t feel anything but fabric. Then it hit him. With his chest flaring and his dick hardening, he stepped closer towards you. 

“Mrs Peña…have you been naked under that dress all day?”

You bit your lip. “Why don’t you find out for yourself?”

His eyes flicking to the hem of your dress, he looked back up at you before slowly dragging the fabric of its skirt up and bunching it in his hand until he could slip his hand under it. And when he was met with bare skin, he swore. 

“Fuck.”

“I’ve been hoping you’d fuck me all day,” you admitted. “I wanted to be ready.”

“Since you walked out of that fucking bedroom in this dress…I’ve wanted to fuck you in it.”

Pulling him closer to you, your voice turned into a low whisper. “Then you better get on with it, Agent Peña. Before I do it myself.”

He didn’t have to be told twice. Capturing your lips on his, his finger coaxed at your pussy, already feeling your wetness build for him. As his fingers began to curl inside of you, you let out a moan before your fingers deftly unbuckled his belt and jeans. Javi let out a small whimper as your fingers stroked down his cock, wiping the pre-cum away with your thumb before finally pumping him a few times. 

“Take it easy, baby. Otherwise I’m not gonna- fuck.”

With one hand, Javi picked you up where you stood, his fingers digging into your ass before he guided his tip in. Letting out a moan by his ear, you told him to start moving. 

“Fill me up, baby.” 

And he did. 

Fucking you against the wall in his hallway, Javi pulled the top of your summer dress down and began leaving his mark across your collarbone and down the bow of your breast, all the while his cock pumped in and out of you before filling you up with him cum. 

“That’s it baby,” Javi told you as you screamed his name as you rode his dick. Then he watched you come. He’d never get sick of that sight. It seemed to get hotter each time. You begging him for more, your moans, his name falling from your lips as he makes you unravel completely. 

But he wasn’t done with you yet. Pulling out from you, he moved you both down the hallway and towards the sofa where he made you come again before moving into the kitchen where he finally fucked you senseless on the kitchen counter. 

Both of you wished it could have continued like that forever, but sadly after your shower, both you and Javi were interrupted by the jingle of keys in the door as your mom let herself in before you and Javi could continue your heavy make-out session on the sofa. 

But that was something you both had to get used to. 

Interruptions. 

From people banging on the copier room door thinking it was jammed, to people walking back into the office after their lunch breaks. But despite the ever growing need to constantly be touching him, or him touching you, you’d both found subtler ways to show how much you not only wanted each other, but also needed each other. 

From the smaller touches when he always found an excuse to stand beside you, to the ever longing looks you both gave to each other as the other one walked away from the desks. There were crappy cups of coffee always being poured, lunches being made and shared, blankets being used to cover up the one that fell asleep first, the knowing looks when a case load became too much, the soft moments spent after a long day of work just laying together on the sofa watching crappy TV and falling asleep, dancing to slower records on down-days, quick kisses goodbye during lunch or during a stakeout for cases, jealous and warning glares being given to those who tried to flirt with the other, and finally slow Sunday mornings that were spent inside the apartment, neither of you leaving unless for a dire emergency. 

And somewhere between all of that, you and Javi had taken a flight to your home where your family and his watched as you both swore actual wedding vows to each other; your wedding party not realising it was the first time for both of you. 

Maybe it had taken a while for you both to come together, and maybe it wasn’t the most conventional of get-togethers. But it was yours and Javi’s story. One that, the more you thought about it, started off with those softer moments. One that always had, and always would, contain those smaller touches and simple gestures. 

[seasprincess]

Yapping

gf!reader x early seasons!Spencer ☆

In which your nerdy boyfriend won’t just stop talking. So you make him….

warnings: MDNI, sub!Spencer, handjob (m receiving), whiny Spencer, he’s a bit pathetic x

wc:811

♡₊˚ ・₊ ♪ ✧ ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆ ♡₊˚ ・₊ ♪ ✧ ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

After working for the past couple days on a hard case that took a lot out of you and the rest of the team. It’s a tough time sometimes. Wearing all of you out.

Apart from one genius who just won’t be quiet now that you two are home alone.

“A vast majority of unsubs have that MO.” He says before getting cut off by you placing your lips back on his. You’re sitting on his lap trying to just make out with him. And of course he’s speaking at a million miles per minute. Nothing out of the ordinary of course.

“They usually aren’t driven by-“ He’s cut off again, lips reconnecting making a sound that makes your cheeks flush. Why is he still talking? Sometimes this man cannot take a hint.

Your hands come up to his cheeks as you try pull him closer in the kiss but as soon as your lips leave his he’s back at it again.

“-The killing. They’re more interested in-“

Another kiss. Hand on his shirt pulling his chest towards yours, feeling him against you is just what you needed right now.

“They’re more interested in the body parts. So psychologically the-“ His voice goes up in a squeak at the end of his sentence when he feels your hand on his crotch.

“For the love of god Spencer. Please shut up.” You say as you close your eyes. Taking a breath. “I love you and your rambles but right now I need something else.”

Spencer freezes at your words and touch. His mind which was once preoccupied is now completely on you and only you. He takes a shaky breath as he suddenly snaps into reality.

You’re sitting on his lap, chest to chest kissing him. And what’s he doing? Rambling about a case that’s now solved.

He has a real life beautiful girl sitting on his lap and he’s being a nerd and yapping.

“Y-yeah. Sorry.” He says softly, voice catching in his throat. Finally understanding what you are wanting.

Yes you and him have done stuff before but every time he still acts like an innocent virgin boy who's never touched a woman.

“Good. Thank you.” You say as your lips reconnect with his. Moving slow and passionate against his. Just the way he likes, it makes him a mess.

As your tongue enters his mouth he lets out a little whine. He’s turning to puff in your hands by just a simple kiss. It’s pathetic. He knows it’s pathetic. But he knows you like that.

“Please.” He whines out against your lips as his hand finally touches you. Gently, not fully touching you. Too scared to do anything.

“Please what?” You say as your thumbs stroke his cheeks, smiling down at him before placing a kiss to his head. The poor boy beneath you is practically shaking beneath you with nerves and excitement.

“Touch me.” He manages to breathe out.

You don’t need to be told twice, hand darting to his pants zipper.

Spencer can feel your fingers working over the material that covers his cock. It twitches as he lets out another whine. The man has an IQ of 187 but when he’s with you, you’d never guess.

Your hands slip into his pants, palming him through his boxers with a smile on your face. You love making him feel good. Even if you’re not getting anything. Cause the noises and the way he is is enough for you.

“P-please.” He moans out all needy and worked up for you.

You kiss him again. He kisses you back with more strength this time. Showing you just how needy he is.

Your hands pull his pants and boxers down, him lifting his hips up to help you.

His cock is already leaking and aching for your touch. For any sense of relief as it’s all too much for the doctor.

Your hands wrap around his length before gently stroking up and down.

Spencer breaks the kiss as he moans. Looking down at your hand working on him. The sight makes his stomach tighten.

His head falls back against the couch as he grips the pillows, knuckles turning white as he breathes heavily.

“Oh-oh-“ He moans out again as you look up at him, kissing his lips again.

The noises that Spencer keeps making are drowned out in your mouth. And all you can do is smile.

Your hand speeds up and his brain malfunctions. The pleasure he’s feeling of your hand on his cock mixed with you kissing him is enough to put him in a coma.

“I’m gonna cum. I’m gonna-“ He says quickly, the words leaving his mouth followed by a moan.

You just keep going. His cock twitching in your grip before he releases.

You simply just place another kiss on his lips as you smile.

a/n: not proof read. need him x

[anika-ann]

Back and Forth - masterlist

Pairing: Steve Rogers x agent! Inhuman!reader

Type: enemies-ish to lovers series

Summary: Calling yourself an Avenger would be overstatement, even if you have been joining them on missions quite frequently lately. Calling them your friends would be an overstatement also. Calling you and Steve Rogers friends, now that would be an insult to the entity of friendship – though unlike him, you have enough self-awareness to admit that he isn't the only one to blame for that. Most of the time anyway.

However, the Avengers need your abilities and so you and Steve tolerate each other – or at least you’re trying, your back and forth visibly annoying your colleagues and exhausting you both.

And then you’re thrown into a situation where mere tolerance isn’t an option. That should end well, shouldn’t it?

Characters to appear: Steve Rogers, ‘reader’, Natasha Romanoff, Bucky Barnes, Tony Stark, Sam Wilson, mentions of Phil Coulson, Daisy Johnson and few others

Setting: slight AU 'cause everyone lives thank you very much, no Civil War or further, references to Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D without a fixed timeline

Warnings: besides canon-typical violence, this series deals with topics which might be trigerring for some people - please, read with caution and resposibility

Playlist 🎵

STORYLINE:

Prologue 

Part 1 

Part 2 

Part 3.1 // Part 3.2

Part 4.1 // Part 4.2 

Part 5 

Part 6.1 // Part 6.2

Part 7

Part 8

Epilogue 1 // and 2

Extras (maaaybe)

Number of parts/chapters is estimated. Did I add one extra already? Yeah, but shhh

Dividers by firefly-graphics, moodboard by me - and created for the vibes, for it does not necessarily reflect the reader's appearance.

Taglist open 🥰

[vigilante24ish]

A Thorn By Thy Side

Agatha Harkness X Fem!Reader

Summary:

Your parents were seasoned Shield Agents who perished in the line of duty when you were younger. They left you at their place, and Shield quickly recruited, trained and perfected you into one of their best agents.

Following in their footsteps, the mission was easy enough for you; the percentage of your successes few could match. So, it was not a surprise when Director Fury entrusted you with a team to capture a very dangerous target... the Succubus Witch Agatha Harkness.

Or

A short story in which Agatha eventually develops a personal interest in you after realising why you are so difficult to get rid of.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

[scrumptious-finicky-illusion]

Hot filth like this deserves more readers. Here.

Lies like Liquid [Loki x Reader]

A link to my Masterlist is HERE Summary: Loki's typical antics at a party hit different. (w/c 2.5k) Warnings: 18+ only. Smut. Loki x Female reader. Snippy Loki/ enemies to lovers. Mild jealousy. Mild angst.

The crowd blurred as you wobbled on your heels towards the bar, trying to look casual. Rogers, Natasha, Clint—all of them with their heads thrown back at some perfectly timed joke while music thumped in your ears.

Loki leant against the polished marble counter—the soft amber bulbs around the mirror making his watchful eyes shine; immaculately tousled hair drifting down his shoulders.

He lifted a martini to his lips and sipped gently, the smoulder fixed on you.

One elbow rested on the bar, his ankles crossed, his body impossibly long and lean and wrapped in an expensive suit that was just the right side of tight. No tie tonight, just an open collar with a triangle of milky skin that you wanted to graze your teeth against as his eyes rolled back and a gurgle of your name choked from his throat—

Don’t talk to him. Don’t embarrass yourself. Don’t look at him; that’s what he wants. But your heart rattled faster as his cologne prickled deep inside your nostrils: warm, spiced, filthy.

“You look particularly agreeable tonight, Agent,” Loki said as you propped your elbows on the bar, eyeing your cleavage carefully in the mirror. The god’s stare traced your profile as intricately as though it were his fingers. “Did you do something with your hair? Wash it, perhaps?” “You’re one to talk, Agent,” you said, tongue lingering on the T.

Out of the corner of your eye, the god stiffened. He hated all that Agent stuff. Resented it. Except when he was curling the word around his own tongue, ready to spit in your directing with his dumb, mind-numbingly sexy voice—

“Nevertheless,” he said, strained, ‘that colour suits you.” “Black?” “Mmm.” “Everyone suits black.” Loki chuckled softly, sliding the base of his martini glass closer across the bar. His body followed. “Not so, Agent. In fact, my brother looks particularly ghastly. Deceased, in fact. You look rather…” “Yes?” Your breath hitched as Loki bent ever-so-slightly to your ear, heat skating down your cheek. “Hot,” he whispered, making one syllable stretch to two. A tingle rushed over your body. You turned fractionally just as the shit-eating, devastatingly attractive smirk spread across Loki’s lips. The one Stark used in the ad reels. The one that the public loved; and the one that you loathed—even if you did have a screenshot of it on your phone for masturbation purposes. Needs must. He might be a dickhead, but you had eyes.

“What do you want, Loki?”

He pressed a hand to his chest, wounded. “Want? Darling, you came to me.”

“I came for a drink—you were in the way. It’s the only way to numb you out.” His jaw dropped a touch, affronted, but those eyes sparkled. Crystal sang as he swirled the fancy glass against marble and leant back, the buttons of his shirt straining as he let out a small, harassed sigh. “You really must try one of these, they’re quite terrible.” The tightness in your chest loosened. “The Starktini?” “The Starktini,” he confirmed sombrely. “Sherry instead of vermouth, can you believe it? What is he thinking. All the money in the realm, and no class.”

He took another sip, draining the glass, observing you through narrowed eyes. “Another one, Mr Laufeyson?” Fresh lipstick, ruffled hair, apron tied too tight, shirt unbuttoned to the tip of fancy lingerie. You rolled your eyes as Loki swivelled to face the waitress. “Please,” he said, low and unbearably smooth. “And one for my friend here, too. Particularly dirty, if you don’t mind.” “Of course Sir; I know the way you like it,” she said huskily, sliding her eyes to yours. You cocked an eyebrow as she sashayed to the liquor bottles further down the bar. “Particularly dirty?” you hissed. “Are you kidding me?” “Are you jealous?” Anger scorched up your spine. How dare he—standing there with his stupid, devastating cheekbones and muscles shifting beneath his shirt as he plucked the stem of a fresh glass from the waitress’s hand. Your eyes flickered to a small piece of paper stuck to the bottom, several looping numbers visible. Loki winked lightly at her as she moved to a pissed off looking Barton, peeling the paper off. “I’ll leave the two of you to…” You gestured in the air.

Loki straightened, swallowing hastily. He raised a finger, his brows rising. But you were already several steps deep into the crowd, pushing past a tipsy Rogers dancing the Macarena to a Scissor Sisters song. The bodice of your dress felt unbearably tight, party smoke clinging to the back of your throat like ash and making your eyes sting. A hand cupped your bicep. “You alright?” Wanda dipped, catching your eyes. You waved a hand, plastering on a smile. “Fine. I’m fine, just Loki being a—” “A delight, I’m sure,” Loki drawled. Even over the music, his voice was clear as glass. Wanda’s face scrunched, her gaze shifting over your shoulder. You whipped around, hoping your tits hadn’t shifted from the impeccable cleavage you’d assembled earlier. “Let me guess, this is the part of the dancefloor you want? Planning on standing here yourself, glowering at everyone having fun?”

Loki frowned, and for a moment, just one, you felt a sharp stab of guilt. He placed the martini glass on a small, round table to his left.

“Actually,” he said, unbuttoning a cuff and folding it up to the elbow. “I was going to ask if you wanted to dance.” Behind you, Wanda gasped. Loki Laufeyson did not dance. And certainly not with you.

There were many things you could say at this moment, do, in this moment while Loki Laufeyson folded the second sleeve up his muscled forearm up with skilful ease. Tell him to fuck off, give him the middle finger, laugh at him before he could laugh at you. Seconds shifted as you waited for the familiar smirk, but it didn’t come. He extended his hand.

Loki’s chin lowered, his eyes glimmering in light refracted from the disco ball, the hand cupped outward unmoving. And so, you took it. Wanda gasped again.

Loki’s thumb slid up your palm, pressing into the soft skin before guiding you gently across the dancefloor. Bodies moved, the room blurred for the second time that evening, but this time, a flutter rose in your belly as Loki turned and pulled you flush to his chest. Your cheek brushed his, hands knotted at his shoulder as the opening beats of Rosenfeld thumped through the speakers. Eyes sliding to Loki’s, you tried to stifle the urge to suck against his neck; absorb the deep scent of him that wafted from beneath his collar.

He began to sway. And then, his lips brushed your ear. “Move, Agent,” he said, deep and utterly filthy. Loki’s knuckles trailed down your spine, palm settling on your lower back and shifting in time with the grind of your hips. His hair grazed against your cheek as your bodies slid together, the satin of your dress water against his shirt. The world slid beneath you feet as Loki pushed you outwards, spinning on your heels, stars bursting in your mind. He pulled you to his chest with a soft thump and the muscle beneath your breasts shook under his chuckle. “I thought you couldn't dance—” “I can do anything, Agent,” he murmured, hands resting on your hips. His eyes narrowed lightly. “Anything.” You snorted, blowing a strand of his hair with it. It floated back, sticking to your mouth. Loki’s fingers slipped between you, pinching it away. His thumb grazed over the plump of your lower lip. “Do you believe me?” It struck you in this moment how inconceivable it was that Loki was grinding against your stomach; that you were shifting in time with it, your hips swaying against the hard expanse of his hips. That you hadn’t punched him in the face yet.

“I believe that you’re full of shit? Does that count?” You half-hoped he couldn’t hear you, but the twitch of Loki’s lips proved he did. God, you wanted to slam your pussy down on the meat of the thigh sliding against your leg. You wanted to yank his hair down and kiss him right on his poisonous mouth as he pushed his femur against your clit; edging you into a shuddering mess hanging in his arms like a doll. A warm flush slid between your legs.

Loki spun to the side, and the world upended. He’d swept you into a dip, his face inches from yours, and his eyes rising slowly from your lips to your eyes. Somewhere, Rogers whooped.

And there it was…the shit eating smirk.

You snapped to reality, pushing against Loki’s shoulder. He brought you upright with a deep crease slicing through his forehead and mumbled something as you pushed through the crowd, Do It For Me ringing in your ears.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

You grabbed a Starktini from the bar, necking it and ignoring Barton’s yelling before making your way to the fire exit. The balcony was too crowded. Cold air hit like a slap, rippling over your bare shoulders and up the flounce of skirt. Your fingers curled against the fire escape, forehead resting against your hands. Fuck. You’d let him get under your skin. You’d promised it wouldn’t happen again.

“I lied.” Your ankle gave way, heel snapping through the grate and sending you wavering to the guard rail. Suddenly Loki’s arms were around you, but you flapped him away. “Piss off, Loki,” you gasped, gripping the rail. “I’m fine. Jesus…you scared the shit out of me.” The angles of Loki’s face were illuminated in moonlight: brows lowered; mouth drawn tight. You sighed. “What do you want?” “I lied,” he said again. Now you remembered. “Well, what’s new? It’s your thing.” He frowned. “Well, it is,” you said, exasperated. “Never with you.” His eyes were a storm of wretched midnights, but his jaw trembled. You noted the strain of his shirt buttons, the creases forming with each deep, measured breath. A tremor passed through his features as he said. “Before, when I said I could do anything—I lied.” “Oh?” “I couldn’t hold on to you.” Your heart dropped somewhere around your knees. “Well, yeah, I guess. It was about more than just the dancing though, you know that, right?” “Mmm.”

In the time it took to look up, Loki was standing in front of you; the heat from his chest radiating the space between your bodies. He licked his lips, and they shaped words you never thought you’d hear. “Is it too late for us?” he asked softly.

“Loki…” “A month is a long time to spend with only one’s thoughts for company.” “Hardly. You were on a mission with Barton and Lang.” “Mentally alone, if not physically. You should hear the things they consider stimulating conversation. Do you know what a blumpkin entails?” He waited, a shadow flitting across his face. “Because I do.” You bit your lip, chest shaking with ill-advised laughter, and when you looked up, Loki’s smile was waiting. The real one. And then, your throat tightened. “You took the waitress’s number.” “Did I?” Loki’s voice went up an octave. “How strange,” he mused as a long finger tapped at his chin. “I distinctly remember not taking her number. In fact, I believe it might still be on the bar. Perhaps Lang will find it—perhaps he’ll finally experience the blumpkin he seeks.” “You winked at her.”

Something shifted inside you as the words shaped your tongue; thin threads of hope winding snug around your insides, the lie of your indifference circling like liquid down a drain. Loki shrugged lightly. “I had to give her something. What was I to do? The woman was clearly smitten—and I’m nothing if not benevolent.”

You rolled your eyes again. “Don’t…” he said, stepping closer.

One arm rose against the wall behind you, his skin silver in moonlight. “You know how that drives me to the brink of sanity.” “Maybe that’s what I want.” “Is it?” His eyes flashed, gaze dropping to your lips. “Well, it’s working.” Your chest ached with the effort of holding in the need to hyperventilate. This was everything you’d wanted as you lay in bed alone, everything you hadn’t dared hope for. That he would fight for you. And yet…With Loki, there was always an ‘And yet’.

But tonight, you didn’t want to think about that. Not yet.

Like a dream, you fingered the open collar of Loki’s shirt, grazing a nail across the exposed skin. He shivered. “Darling,” he whispered, and then, your lips were on his. One kiss slipped into the next like words, the groans deep in his throat and the fingers winding in your hair like blazing starlight. “Up, up,” you gasped between kisses.

Loki obliged, large hands dipping to your thighs and hoisting you against the polished outer walls of Stark Tower with a squeak. He fumbled with the line of your underwear, a mumbled fuck it preceding the warm fizz of his magic against your skin. Your fingers ripped at the buttons of his suit trousers, delving for the unbearably hard cock pressing against your cunt. Every vein, every velvet ridge, every inch that made him whimper when you traced it with your tongue. Loki’s breath was heavy, misting against your cheek as he breached with a broken chant of your name. Your head fell back against the wall, his mouth working down the valley of your throat as his hips rolled, filling you. “Loki, god…yes,” you panted to the darkened sky. He mumbled something unintelligible against your skin as your fingers twisted in his hair and the part of yourself that hoped this could be real burned brighter. There was nothing but here—nothing but the press of his flat stomach, the feel of his fingertips curling into your thighs and the seal of his cock unwinding your doubts with every thrust.

“Gods, I never meant to—” You silenced him with a kiss, delving into him with insatiable hunger. I never meant to push you away. I never meant to break your heart. It could wait. Orgasm sparked deep in your belly, rippling like a lit match from gasoline. Your legs tightened around his hips, forcing his cock deeper with an obscene squelch. “Faen, kvinne,” Loki grunted, one palm flying to the wall behind you and squeaking down metal. He bucked up, bottoming out a final, shattering time. Climax ripped through your body like a knife through leather, arms flying around his neck and pulling him close. His belt buckle was ice against your heated thighs, the grind of his hips flattening you to the wall. The god’s groans grew tight; urgent, something new stringing along his back muscles shifting under the drag of your fingernails. “Forgive me,” he sighed. You wondered if he’d stop himself tumbling over the edge if you didn’t. But the time for lies was over. “I forgive you,” you whispered, sucking his earlobe between your teeth. Loki’s guttural groan as he filled you with his cum was the world sliding beneath your feet, breaking apart and starting anew.

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[thatsmzbitchtoyou]

"Run, pretty girl, run" Chapter 1

Summary:  Even with the safeguards put in place after the fall of S.H.I.E.L.D., the remaining Avengers find themselves on the run after the American government falls into disarray.  The code word is sent, and they’re officially fugitives.  Bucky makes a run for the safe house set up for emergencies like this where the Avengers are told to meet up, but on the way saves the pregnant agent turned payroll specialist that he was partnered with.  Will they make it before she goes into labor?  Or at all?

Warnings: violence, pregnancy, childbirth, death of minor character, language, eventual smut

“Бегать”: run “Подтвердить” : confirmed “Enkosi”: thank you “Дома”: home “Добро пожаловать”: welcome

Next chapter

It started out like any other regular Wednesday.  Bucky walked toward the training room but made a quick pit stop at the main offices on the ground floor.  He was greeted with quick hellos and tight smiles as he marched to his destination, two cups of coffee in his hands.  He didn’t feel like he was being off putting, but then again he was an Avenger, and Avengers didn’t usually come through the logistical offices.  He was also the ex-Winter Soldier, so it wasn’t too surprising.  He made a sharp left turn and plastered on his flirtatious smile.  He knocked on the door around the corner.  

“G’morning pretty girl,” Bucky smirked as he walked in.

Y/N turned her attention from her computer to him, a wide smile on her face.  “Good morning, hot stuff,” she giggled.  His smile widened as he approached the desk and reached one of the cups out to her.  Her eyes widened gleefully as she made grabby hands for the cup.  “Oh my god, my savior,” she whispered.

Bucky laughed as he plopped down on the chair in front of her desk.  “I take my thanks in hugs and more long, exaggerated praises about how hot I am.”

As Y/N took a long sip she rolled her eyes and gave him an unimpressed look.  “I don’t need to give you a bigger head than you already have,” she murmured.  “But thank you.  I’ll give you a very pregnant hug before you leave.”

Bucky nodded and took a look at her belly.  “Jesus, you just get bigger by the day.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me,” she sighed, looking down and rubbing it gently.  “I need this baby out, like, yesterday.”

Bucky couldn’t help but feel bad for his ex-partner.  Y/N had been paired up with him for missions as a test to see how he worked with others as he reintegrated into working under the Avengers.  They had gotten along from the start.  Bucky had a hard time opening up to people, but Y/N was kind while also taking nobody’s shit, so she was able to be a friend while also putting him in his place, which he enjoyed.  So many people were afraid of him, but she had shown no worry or fear from the moment she met him.  They had become fast friends, and if Bucky was perfectly honest with himself, he’d been falling for her, but she had been dating her boyfriend of three years, Tim.  That all changed when one day on a mission she had suddenly gone pale, ran away and thrown up profusely.  She was pregnant, and Tim disappeared.  Bucky was furious.  Y/N was determined to do right by this baby, no matter who its father was, deciding to keep it and transferring over to be a payroll specialist.  Bucky was ready and willing to help however and whenever she needed, going with her when he could to appointments and trying to make her comfortable when they hung out outside of work.  Her due date was in a week.  

“Soon, pretty girl, soon,” he smiled fondly at her.  He leaned forward.  “And I’m being so perfectly serious that if you go into labor and don’t immediately call me I will go DEFCON one on your ass,” he said, narrowing his eyes at her.

She narrowed her eyes back at him and slightly leaned forward.  “I wish you would,” she sneered.  “Then I’d have to show you what Natasha taught me.”

They stared each other down for another moment before they both cracked smiles and started laughing.  He sat back and put his hands up in surrender.  “Alright, Mamas, I got it,” he chuckled.  He looked at the clock on her wall and sighed.  “I guess I better get going.  But hey, dinner tonight?  At 6?” he said, standing from the chair.

“Only if you’re cooking,” Y/N said, also standing up, although a little slowly and awkwardly with her large belly.  “Now come claim my thanks,” she smirked as she opened her arms to him.

Bucky snickered and rounded the desk, stepping into her outstretched arms and rubbing her back.  He leaned down and kissed the top of her head before pulling away, then stooped down so he was eye level with her belly.  “And you, sir,” he spoke to her belly, making her laugh, “don’t give your mama so much grief.  Chill out,” he said before standing straight.  “I’ll see you later, pretty girl,” he winked at her before grabbing his coffee and turning to leave.

“Don’t give them too much sass!” Y/N called out to him.

“No promises!” he chimed back.

***

A few hours later as Bucky was training the new recruits Yelena approached him in the gym.  “Barnes,” she greeted him stiffly, standing next to him.

“Belova,” he greeted her back, watching the recruits.  “What do I owe the pleasure?”

“Бегать,” she whispered, her lips barely moving.

Bucky stiffened, the hairs on the back of his neck standing and his crossed arms tensing.  He looked at her out of the corner of his eye.  Yelena looked normal to the everyday person, but he could see the panic in her eyes and the tightness around her mouth.  He minutely nodded and focused around the room, looking for exit points and an escape route.  

“Подтвердить,” he whispered back to her.  Yelena nodded and walked away slowly.  Bucky waited for her to leave the gym.  His mind was racing as he came up with a plan.  “Alright, now close quarters combatives!  Chokeholds!” he yelled out and the recruits all changed positions with their partners, moving into the next exercise.  As they continued he slowly took steps around them like he was analyzing their movements, but as soon as he reached the other side of the gym he slipped out the door and moved quickly down the hallway.  He was able to make it to his room and grab his to-go bag, double checking it for his guns, knives, money, passports and alternate identifications before shrugging on his jacket and hat.

As he made his way down the hall he suddenly stopped.  Y/N.  He swore under his breath.  Surely she wasn’t a part of this…  He stopped by her room just down the hall from his, searching her room momentarily before finding her to-go bag, grabbing a couple more things she would need for her pregnancy and shoving them in before walking briskly to the stairs.  He made it down to the logistical offices again, texting Y/N to meet him by the bathrooms next to them.  She came out of the office looking confused and walked into the women’s restroom.  Bucky followed her in and locked the door behind them and turned to her sharply.  He approached her fast and she backed up slightly at the look on his face.

“What’s going on, Buck?” she asked, looking more surprised than scared.

Bucky watched her carefully.  “Бегать,” he whispered.

Y/N’s eyes widened, her brow furrowing.  “Подтвердить,” she whispered back.  “You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.”

Bucky closed his eyes and sighed heavily.  She knew, thank God.  He pulled her bag off his shoulder and gave it to her.  “It’s been 12 minutes.”

Y/N swore before taking the bag and starting to strip out of her corporate attire.  Bucky turned to give her privacy and also to check the bathroom.  A few minutes later she was changed, throwing her work clothes into the bag.  She pulled her phone out and gave it to Bucky.  He promptly smashed it in his vibranium hand, then smashed his own before throwing them away in the trash.  

“15 minutes,” she said, putting her bag on her arm.

“Let’s go,” Bucky said lowly.  He took her arm in his like they were just going on holiday and unlocked the bathroom door.  They stepped out and walked toward the front door.  As they approached Bucky turned to Y/N.  “Are you excited for your last bit of freedom before the baby comes?” he asked jovially, wearing a smile.

Y/N smiled up at him.  “And last bit of sleep for the rest of my life,” she replied.  They laughed together as they walked out.  As soon as they were out of earshot they kept the smiles but moved a little faster towards Y/N’s car, since Bucky’s bike wouldn’t work for them both, especially with Y/N being pregnant.  He could feel her shaking next to him and he patted her hand on his arm before she gave him the keys.  They threw their bags in the backseat and Bucky slid in as Y/N buckled herself in.  Y/N was about to speak but Bucky held up a finger.  He pulled out a small device and attached it to her car’s radio then pushed the button at the end of it.  A small electrical pulse swept through the car, a faint sizzling being heard before he turned the car on and drove out of the facility parking lot.  They didn’t speak again for another ten miles until Bucky sighed heavily.

“I think we’re okay, for now,” he said, his eyes flying around.  

“Was that for tracking devices?” Y/N asked, pointing at the device.

“Yes,” Bucky said.  “They try to put trackers on all employees' vehicles.  Found one on my bike a few weeks ago while I was tuning it up.”

Y/N swore again.  “Do we know anything?”

“No,” Bucky replied, his hands tightening on the steering wheel.

“Who sounded off?” she asked quietly.

“Yelena,” he replied.

Y/N sighed this time.  “Good,” she said.  She was friends with Yelena, so she was happy to know they were on the same side.  After a few more minutes Bucky heard Y/N’s breathing slightly pick up.  He glanced at her and saw tears silently streaming down her face, her fingers fiddling in her lap.  She was stressed, and scared, as anyone would be while escaping from a newly discovered corrupt government agency and trying to safely make it to a checkpoint, but being in a compromised position made it even worse.  He reached out and took her hand closest to him, gently rubbing her knuckles.  She squeezed his hand as they drove as fast as possible without raising suspicion.  They were on the run. 

[purifiedclitoris69]

Statements

Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x Shield agent!reader

Summary: Assumptions are made about the relationship you have with Natasha, so you took it upon yourself to make a statement :)

Your relationship with Natasha is built on years of trust, mutual respect, and an unspoken understanding that comes from living in the shadows of espionage. You met when she first joined SHIELD, and while she was still finding her footing within the organization, you were already established as a specialist sniper—someone who worked alone, took the impossible shots, and disappeared before anyone even knew you were there.

At first, your relationship was purely professional. You recognized each other as dangerous and highly capable, but there was always a quiet pull between you. Over time, through shared missions, late-night debriefs, and the rare moments of quiet in a world full of chaos, that pull became something more. It wasn’t dramatic or rushed—it was a slow burn, a natural evolution of two people who understood each other better than most and yearned to show one another a genuine love.

Now, after almost 3 years together, your bond is unshakable. While the Avengers see you around the compound, they don’t truly know the depth of what you and Natasha have. They assume your relationship is casual, just a convenience in a life full of uncertainty. But in reality, Natasha loves you fiercely, and you love her just as much. You’re her safe place, the person she trusts with the parts of herself she doesn’t show anyone else. When the world feels too heavy, she turns to you—not for protection, because she doesn’t need it, but for the rare comfort of knowing she’s not alone.

You don’t need grand gestures or constant declarations. Your love is in the quiet moments—the way she always finds her way to you after a mission, the way you instinctively reach for her hand under the table, the way she relaxes against you when no one is watching. To the outside world, you might just be another agent who occasionally lingers at the compound. But to Natasha, you’re home.

—————————-———

Wanda was the first to recognize the depth of your relationship.

It was early—early enough that most of the team was still asleep or barely functioning. The compound was quiet, save for the soft hum of the coffee machine in the kitchen. You stood by the counter, leaning against it, eyes still heavy with sleep as you waited for the coffee to finish brewing.

Natasha, still in her sleep shorts and one of your old SHIELD t-shirts, wandered in with a yawn, her hair slightly tousled from sleep. She didn’t say anything as she approached—you felt her presence before you saw her. Without hesitation, she walked straight into your space, wrapping her arms around your waist and burying her face into your chest.

"Mm. Too early," she mumbled against you.

You huffed a quiet laugh, your hand instinctively coming up to rub slow, soothing circles on her back. "You say that every morning, but you’re always up before me."

She hummed but didn’t respond, just tightening her grip around you as if she could steal some of your warmth. You didn’t mind. In fact, moments like this were your favorite—the ones where she let her guard down, where she wasn’t the Black Widow or an Avenger, just Natasha, just yours.

Neither of you noticed Wanda standing by the doorway, frozen mid-step. She had come in for coffee but stopped in her tracks at the sight of Natasha—fierce, guarded Natasha—melted completely against you.

Wanda had always assumed your relationship was casual. Everyone had. You weren’t around often, and Natasha never entertained deep conversations about her personal life. But standing there, watching the way she clung to you, the way your hand moved over her back with the kind of practiced ease that spoke of years of familiarity, Wanda realized they had all been wrong.

This wasn’t casual. This was love—deep, unwavering, and so achingly real.

She wasn’t sure how long she stood there, but eventually, Natasha stirred, tilting her head up to look at you. "Coffee ready?"

"Almost," you murmured, brushing a strand of hair out of her face. The gesture was so gentle, so natural, that Wanda almost felt like she was intruding.

Before Natasha could move away, you leaned down, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to her forehead. "Go sit. I’ll bring you a cup."

Natasha didn’t argue, just gave you a sleepy, content smile before releasing you and making her way to the kitchen table.

Wanda finally decided to make her presence known, clearing her throat as she stepped fully into the kitchen. "Morning," she greeted, a knowing smirk tugging at her lips as she grabbed a mug and you unpromptedly filled it for her greeting her with a kind smile and filling Nat’s next, starting another pot for anyone else who might want it.

Natasha, already seated, just raised an eyebrow. "What?"

Wanda glanced between the two of you, then just shook her head, her smirk widening. "Nothing. Just... you two are cute," she blew on her coffee.

Natasha rolled her eyes, but there was no real heat behind it. Meanwhile, you simply handed Natasha her coffee before grabbing your own along with d the morning crossword, completely unfazed.

Wanda took a sip of her drink, still smiling to herself. Maybe the rest of the team had been blind to it, but now she knew the truth—Natasha Romanoff was hopelessly, completely in love.

—————————-———

The next person was Steve. You had gone on another lengthy mission; it had kept you away for weeks longer than either of you liked. You had kept in touch when you could, brief calls and cryptic messages, but it wasn’t the same. And now, finally, you were back.

Steve wasn’t looking for either of you when he entered the common room. He had just been passing through, planning to grab something from the kitchen before heading to the gym. But as soon as he stepped in, he stopped in his tracks.

The lights were dim, the soft crackle of the old record player filling the space. An oldie—something slow, something familiar. And in the center of the room, barely swaying to the rhythm, was you and Natasha.

She was pressed against you, arms loosely wrapped around your shoulders, her fingers idly playing with the hairs at the back of your neck. Your hands rested on her waist, holding her close as if you needed to feel her warmth to believe this moment had finally come after weeks of waiting.

Neither of you spoke. There was no need. The way Natasha clung to you, the way you held her like she was the only thing in the world that mattered, it said everything.

Steve had never seen her like this. Sure, he had seen her care about people, had seen her protect and fight for those she loved. But this? This was different. This was Natasha Romanoff, the Black Widow, completely at peace. Safe. Home.

He felt like he was intruding on something sacred, so he took a quiet step back, turning to leave—only to nearly bump into Bucky.

“what’s with the face?” Bucky asked, raising an eyebrow at the look on Steve’s face.

Steve exhaled, shaking his head with a slight chuckle. “Nothing, just—” He glanced over his shoulder, then looked back at Bucky. “You and Sam better stop checking Nat out so much.”

Bucky scoffed. “What? We don’t—”

Steve gave him a knowing look.

Bucky shifted. “Alright, maybe Sam does. I just—y’know, appreciate a good—”

Steve cut him off. “Don’t.”

Bucky smirked. “Okay, but why the sudden warning?”

Steve shook his head again, that small smile still lingering. “Because they’re in love. Like, really in love.”

Bucky frowned. “I mean, yeah, I figured they were serious, but—”

“No,” Steve interrupted. “Not just serious. Not just together. In love.”

Bucky studied him for a second, something unreadable passing over his expression before he nodded. “Alright,” he said simply.

Steve gave him a final glance before clapping him on the shoulder and walking off, leaving Bucky standing there, a little quieter than usual.

Because if what Steve was saying was true, then it wasn’t just Natasha they had underestimated. It was you.

—————————-———

The true statement was made in the compound gym.

The gym was alive with movement—punching bags swinging, the clatter of weights, and the rhythmic sound of fists meeting training dummies. You had just finished some shooting drills when you decided to swing by, knowing exactly where Natasha would be.

Sure enough, there she was, moving like a force of nature. Every strike was precise, every kick sharp. She was a sight to behold—dangerous, powerful, and effortlessly graceful.

Apparently, you weren’t the only one who thought so.

You noticed Sam and Bucky standing off to the side, arms crossed, observing her with a little too much focus. Eyes tracked her every movement, and while you weren’t necessarily the jealous type, and were well aware how gorgeous Natasha is; people couldn't help but be enamoured by her, however weren’t about to let this slide.

You strolled up beside them, tilting your head. "Enjoying the view?"

Bucky, to his credit, immediately raised his hands in surrender. "Hey, don’t look at me. I was admiring the technique, alright?" He nodded toward Natasha. "She’s one of the best fighters I’ve ever seen."

You eyed him for a second before nodding, accepting the explanation. Bucky was a lot of things, but he wasn’t dumb enough to cross that line.

Sam, however—

"Look, I’m just saying," Sam started, his eyes still trailing Natasha as she wiped sweat off her forehead. "It’s not my fault she moves like that. That’s a distraction."

You raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"

Sam glanced at you, then seemed to realize way too late that he had just said that to the one person who could make him regret it. "Uh—"

"You know what?" You rolled your shoulders, tossing your towel aside. "I feel like I haven’t sparred in a while. What do you say, Wilson? A little one-on-one?"

Sam hesitated, looking between you and Bucky, who just took a step back, clearly enjoying the fact that he wasn’t involved.

"You sure you wanna do this?" Sam asked, crossing his arms. "I mean, no offense, but I’ve got wings, I’ve fought aliens—"

"You’re standing here watching my girlfriend train. I just want to see how you train too." you cut in, smirking.

The room went silent for half a beat before Bucky let out a low chuckle. "Oh, this is gonna be good."

Clint grinned, nudging Wanda. "Five bucks says Sam regrets this immediately."

Natasha, who had been too focused on training to notice the exchange earlier, finally turned toward the group, eyebrow raised. "What’s going on?"

Wanda smirked. "Your sniper just challenged Sam to a sparring match because he got caught staring at you."

Natasha let out a small laugh, tossing a towel over her shoulder as she walked closer. "Oh, I have to see this."

Sam exhaled, shaking his head. "Y’all are ridiculous. But fine. Let’s do this."

You stepped onto the mat, rolling your shoulders as Sam joined you. He gave a cocky smirk. "You sure you wanna do this? I am pretty fast, you know."

You just smirked back. "We’ll see."

Steve, ever the responsible one, clapped his hands. "Alright, keep it clean."

The second Steve gave the go-ahead, you moved—fast.

Sam barely had time to react before you were already in his space, effortlessly dodging his first strike. You didn’t just block—you controlled. Every punch he threw was sidestepped. Every kick, redirected. You weren’t just fighting Sam. You were toying with him.

The smirk on his face started fading as frustration crept in. "Damn," he muttered, throwing another punch. You caught his wrist, twisting him off-balance before sweeping his legs out from under him.

Sam hit the mat with a grunt.

From the sidelines, Bucky let out a whistle. "That looked like it hurt."

Clint was grinning beside Nat.

Wanda shook her head in amusement. "He walked right into that one."

Sam groaned but pushed himself back up. "Alright, alright—lucky shot."

You didn’t respond. You just motioned for him to try again.

This time, he put more effort into his attacks, but it didn’t make a difference. Every move he made, you were already three steps ahead. You parried, countered, redirected—all with ease.

After a few more humiliating takedowns, Sam finally dropped to the mat, breathing hard, lying flat on his back. "Damn. Alright. Message received."

You crouched down beside him, grinning. "Good. Maybe next time, you’ll keep your eyes to yourself playboy"

Sam exhaled, closing his eyes. "Noted."

You stood up, offering him a hand. He took it, groaning as he got to his feet. "You really don’t like people looking at her, huh?"

You shrugged, "I know she can handle herself, I just felt like making a statement today," you smiled stepping off the mat and walking to Nat

"Possessive looks good on you," Natasha said with her signature smirk

Without a second thought, you grabbed her by the waist and kissed her—really kissed her—right in front of everyone. It was slow, deep, and left no room for doubt. Natasha, normally composed, melted into you, gripping your bicep to steady herself.

When you pulled back, she was a little breathless, a rare blush dusting her cheeks.

You smirked. "See you at dinner, love."

And with that, you walked off, leaving Natasha still catching her breath.

Clint let out a low whistle. "Damn."

Wanda smirked. "That was a statement,” Natasha throwing a towel at her, mumbling out a whatever and heading to the lockers

Bucky clapped Sam on the shoulder. "So, you still gonna stare?"

Sam rolled his eyes taking a tired seat on the bench "I hate you all."

[princezzleia]

x reader she's like Barbie. she can be anything. she can be everything. she can do whatever I'm not dare to do in rl and she can choose her man. *sigh* Life've never been better.

[hoe4hotchner]

I have an idea for a Hotch story. What about its Hotch x wife!reader where jack is about 6 months old but she’s still constantly checking his breathing at naps and bedtime and waking up all the time she check him and is super conscious. Hotch thought at first it’s just a new mom thing but now you’re losing sleep and worried all the time so he brings it up one night and she just breaks down and says “I never know if you’re coming home to me so I need to make sure jack is ok so I always have a piece of you with me”

Safe and Sound | [A.H]

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x wife!Reader | WC: 0.7k | CW: Could probably be qualified as post partum, anxiety, lack of sleep.

A/N: I tried my hardest to write this with Jack as the baby, but ultimately I had to make it into a new baby unrelated to Jack, cause my brain couldn't wrap around reader having given birth to Jack. Otherwise it follows the prompt…. Hope it's okay <3

The soft glow of the nightlight bathed the nursery in a warm amber hue as you hovered over the crib. The rhythmic sound of the baby monitor buzzed faintly in the background, but it wasn’t enough to ease your mind. Your hand rested lightly on your son’s tiny chest, feeling the gentle rise and fall from his breathing. Six months in, and every nap, every bedtime, still filled you with a quiet kind of dread.

What if the monitor failed? What if something happened while you weren’t watching? The what-ifs buzzed louder than the monitor, it was a relentless echo that kept you tethered to the edge of fear no matter how safe or serene he looked in his sleep.

The creak of the nursery door broke your focus, pulling your gaze away from your son’s chest. Aaron’s silhouette filled the doorway, his broad shoulders casting a shadow into the softly lit room. He was only wearing a plain white t-shirt and a pair of boxers, the casualness of his attire contrasting with his usual suit and tie. His arms were crossed loosely over his chest, and his dark eyes softened as they took you in, concern etching faint lines across his face. A frown tugged at the corners of his mouth, not in irritation but in worry.

“Sweetheart,” he said softly, careful not to wake the baby. “You need to sleep.”

“I’m fine,” you whispered back, brushing your fingertips over your son’s soft, silky hair. You lingered, reluctant to leave. “I just needed to check.”

Aaron stepped into the room, his feet silent against the carpet. “You’ve checked three times in the past hour,” he said gently, his hand finding the small of your back. “Come back to bed.”

You sighed, looking down at your baby boy one last time before letting Aaron guide you out of the nursery. The two of you walked in silence to your bedroom, his hand never leaving you as if to anchor you to him so you wouldn't run back to the nursery. When you climbed into bed, Aaron slid in beside you, propping himself up on one elbow to face you.

“This isn’t just a new mom thing, is it?” he asked, his voice low and careful, treading lightly as he spoke. “You’ve barely been sleeping. You’re running yourself into the ground.”

You froze, staring at the ceiling as tears burned behind your eyes. He was right — he always was. But admitting it felt like opening a floodgate you weren’t sure you could close.

“I just…” Your voice cracked, and Aaron shifted closer. “I need to make sure he’s okay.”

“He is okay,” Aaron said, his thumb brushing softly over your cheek. “He’s perfect. And you’re an amazing mom.”

The dam broke. The tears spilled over as a sob escaped your lips. “I never know if you’re coming home to me,” you choked out, your hands gripping his t-shirt as though he might disappear. “So I need to make sure the baby is okay. I need to know I’ll always have a piece of you with me.”

Aaron’s breath hitched, his face falling as your words sank in. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into his chest as he kissed the top of your head. “Sweetheart,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion, “I’m so sorry you feel like that.”

You clung to him, his steady heartbeat soothing some of the ache in your chest. “I can’t lose you, Aaron. Or him. I wouldn’t survive it.”

“You won’t lose us,” he promised, his lips brushing your temple. “I’ll do everything I can to come home to you, every time. And I’ll make sure you’re never carrying this alone.”

For a long time, he just held you. As your sobs quieted, he eased you back down onto the pillows, still holding your hand.

“Tomorrow, we’ll figure this out,” Aaron said softly. “We’ll talk to someone and find ways to help you rest. But tonight, let me watch over him so you can sleep. Okay?”

You nodded, your exhaustion finally catching up to you as his words and touch began to pull you under. “Okay,” you whispered.

And as you drifted off in Aaron’s arms, for the first time in months, you felt the weight begin to lift — getting help was not such a bad idea after all.