#agent reader

[zer0pm]

Imagine Luis using the communicator to call you. Constantly.

“Luis? What’s your status?”

“No bueno, my friend. I’m in a lot of pain.”

Your head immediately snaps up at attention to these words. Leon, who answered the call as the device was on his person, shares your look of alarm and nods in understanding to prepare to come to the Spaniard’s aid.

“Where are you?” Leon inquires, maneuvering the communicator between you two so that you can listen in as well. “How serious are your injuries?”

The man on the other line groans, “I’d say pretty serious. Severe, even.”

Filled with worry, you were about to join the line of questioning until his voice cuts you off before you could utter a sound.

“After all… how does one recover from a lonely heart?”

Leon squints, “…What?”

“I am separated from my light- mi luz! Forced to wander these terrifying, dark corridors alone without any source of warmth and comfort!” In the tiny screen, you can see the man waving his arms around with an exaggerated pout on his face. He looked like he was rehearsing a scene of a play or something. Luis notices your face on his end and smiles widely before releasing an over-the-top gasp and calling you by name. “¿Dónde estás, mi luz? I am suffering without you.”

You pinch the bridge of your nose, doing your best to choke down the laugh that was threatening to erupt from your chest. Before reuniting with Leon S. Kennedy, your partner in the mission to retrieve Ashley Graham, you were running around the village with Luis Serra, a man you happened to come across while fighting hordes of infected villagers. Initially, you were suspicious of him, but he proved himself to be a man of good character, chivalrously watching your back and using his intimate knowledge of the area and the terrors that creep within to navigate you both through multiple dangerous encounters.

You and he became close quickly, forging a strong bond during your time together, made easy with the man’s charisma and light-hearted nature. Even in the constant face of danger, Luis would twist the dark ambiance to his playful tune, often making you the muse of his antics if not for the sole purpose to tease a smile upon your face. So what he was doing now was not at all surprising, but the confused and incredulous look upon Leon’s face was priceless.

Just as you were going to point out that it hasn’t at all been that long since you two have separated ways so that you can help Leon relocate Ashley, the blond agent beside you drops the call with a push of a button. He then throws an inquisitive glare your way.

“What?” you ask.

“Do I dare even ask what the hell that was?” Leon shoots back.

You ponder his question for a moment before answering, “Honestly, it’d save you the headache if you didn’t.”

With that, Leon drops the conversation with a sigh before taking the lead to move on. Little did you both know, it wouldn’t be the last time Luis would call.

The second time he calls, he asks how you and Leon were progressing. And just like the first time, Leon answers, reporting that you were busy cracking at a difficult door puzzle while he kept watch.

“Whoever designed this castle was a real asshole,” the agent comments.

“Agreed,” you sigh. “And whoever took the time to reset these puzzles is an even bigger asshole.”

Luis’ voice chimes in through the static. “Perhaps I can be of some assistance? I am a brilliant man, afterall. Let me have a look, por favor.”

Thinking nothing of it, Leon walks over and faces the screen of the comm to you and the door so that Luis can see what you are working on from behind before you reset the puzzle. You then explain how you got stuck and your theories on what the possible solutions could be. While doing so, Luis hums after each pause, his face showing that of absolute concentration. After you finished and a moment of considerable silence passes, you engage him.

“Well?” you ask. “Any thoughts?”

Luis lifts his hand from his stubbled chin, “Just one.” He points at you, his voice lowers to a husky growl.

“You look particularly ravishing from this angle.”

You were grateful that Leon hung up before Luis can see the blush burning hot on your cheeks. After some time, you managed to solve the puzzle and proceed with the mission although Leon was none too happy with the Spanish man for wasting both of your times.

The third time the communication device goes off, you offer to take it from Leon.

“It’s probably him again. Why don’t I handle this one?”

“No,” he denies, shaking his head. “I still don’t trust him and you don’t need the distraction.”

Instead of being offended at your partner practically casting your professionalism into doubt, you reason with him. “C’mon, Leon. It could be serious this time.”

“Highly doubt it.”

However, more time passes and the device is still beeping. The sound echoes off the walls in taunting pings to the gnawing point where it was practically imprinted into your brains. When Leon couldn’t handle it anymore, he sighs in defeat and pushes the button. Again, he doesn’t hand it to you and greets the dark-haired man himself with an irritated frown.

“This better be good.”

“Depends on your definition of “good”, mi compadre.” Luis too wore a grimace, his voice void of his usual humor. “I’ve relocated one of my hidden caches and uncovered the suppressants you will both need to slow the growth of the plaga within your bodies.”

“Well, damn. That sounds like great news to me.” A wave of relief washes over Leon’s face, probably because Luis finally shared something worthwhile. “So what’s the catch, then?”

“Catch is- there are two different kinds of doses. One dose is a simple needle injection. That will be for you, Leon. Pero, the other…” he trails off, eyes casted with a faraway look while the adam’s apple in his throat bobs. Whatever was on his mind seems difficult to swallow let alone speak aloud.

Curiosity evident in Leon’s expression, he prods him further. “What is it, Luis? Is the other dose dangerous to administer?”

“It can be. The application process has a high probability of being rather intensive. For both the receiver and the administrator.”

You join in, “What do you mean?”

It was only until the words left your mouth did you realize what you just waltzed into.

Upon hearing your words, Luis’ expression changes like day and night, the somber frown flipping into a mischievous smirk. “It is nothing you can’t handle, mi amor. I’m certain. Only that it requires you and I to exchange bodily fluids in-“

Never before have you seen Leon hang up so fast, his hand covering his beet red face. You couldn’t tell if it was out of embarrassment, disgust, or fury for falling for the Spaniard’s antics once again and concluded that it was all at once.

“Let’s… ugh… Let’s just keep going.”

You didn’t put up a fight at the order, fighting off your own set of emotions that stirred from Luis’ shameless teasing. However, not even five steps were taken and the walkie talkie beeps. Leon was livid.

“For fuck’s sake, what now?!”

“Catch you at a bad time, Leon?” A deadpan feminine voice comes through the comms and you swear Leon turned several shades paler.

Leon’s “informant” tipped you off on Ashley’s last sighting and you two wasted no time moving to catch up to her. After fighting another wave of plaga, tensions were running high. So when you two were rushing to navigate around the courtyard, the communicator goes off once more and that became the last straw for Leon. Already fuming, he waited to see the Spaniard’s face on the device before verbally popping off.

“Luis, I swear to god. If the reason you’re calling is to talk about how miserable and lonely you are or make some dumb comment on a certain someone’s assets, I am going to literally throw this walkie talkie off the ramparts,” Leon snarled, his frustration unrestrained. “So I dare you, Luis, I fucking dare you to speak. And it better be god damn important!”

For a moment there was only white noise, then a familiar thick accent finally comes through.

“… I was going to say that I can see you two across the courtyard,” the man reports candidly, “and there’s a swarm of monsters coming in at your three o’clock.”

Sure enough, a horde of giant mutated insects were zooming towards you and Leon. Amidst the countless gunshots and death cries of your enemies, you can hear your fellow agent beside you cursing colorfully to the high heavens as well as the sound of hysterical laughter further in the distance.

When it was all over, the communicator was beeping again. Leon didn’t even bother answering. Instead, he tosses the device over to you without so much as a word or making eye contact. The brief exchange almost made you laugh as you press the button and are greeted by a familiar handsome face whose grey eyes lit up instantly at the sight of you.

“I think you broke the poor man,” you say with an amused, pointed look.

The expression you see in the tiny screen was that of feigned innocent confusion. “¿Perdon? Whatever do you mean? I thought I did my due diligence in warning you two of imminent danger.”

Your ears pick up an irritated groan followed by harsh stomps moving away from your position. You can practically imagine smoke coming out of the blond’s ears as he created distance, muttering an excuse that he is going to check the perimeter. If not for your respect for the man, you would have rolled over laughing.

Shaking your head, you return your attention back to cause of your partner’s grief. “Alright. Now that’s it just the two of us. What did you really want to say to me, Luis?”

“Nada,” the Spanish man shrugs, throwing you his signature charming grin. “Just wanted to hear your voice.”

#luis serra #luis serra x reader #luis serra navarro #luis serra imagine #resident evil imagines #resident evil 4 #re4 remake #re4 luis #gender neutral reader #reader is gender neutral #my writing #zer0pm imagine #the fact that you don’t get enough calls from Luis is a crime #they should add a feature to call people over the walkie anytime you want #Luis is a lovable menace #poor Leon #leon s kennedy #agent reader #reader is a badass #editted for errors and such

[ceruleancattail]

I have thoughts about Agent reader and Ground Control Idia.

It’s an odd thing to say, but you know every little quirk in his voice. It’s hard not to, when he’s in your ear whenever you’re deployed. The way he clicks his tongue whenever you go the wrong way, the monotone drone as he gives you the orders from the big guy himself, even the laughter he tries to stifle whenever you complete a mission successfully… you know it all.

You could be in a room blindfolded, but if you heard one breath from Idia, you’ll still be able to find your way back to him.

He banters with you, sometimes. Little sarcastic quips into your ear whenever you veer off the perfectly charred plan he made for you, or some snide remarks on the place’s security.

More then once, he made you chuckle when you’re on site. Snide remarks about your target’s… less-then-presentable attire, and some very unflattering jokes made on their expense.

It’s horrible, trying to keep a straight face once Idia gets going.

However, it does help you relax. You could feel the tension leave your shoulders, your stance drop from battle-ready to something more normal.

As much as he jabs at you verbally, Idia does care. You can feel it, even with just his voice. The slight panicked edge it takes when the enemies are closing in. Oh, Idia has a plan, no doubt. Also, you’re more then capable of escape.

But he hates seeing you through the screen, placed in a situation where he can do nothing but talk. It feels very pointless sometimes, being so near to someone you care about, and yet feeling so far.

If you ever get hurt on any mission, be prepared for a blur of blue to rush at you once you’re back. As much as Idia would love to handle your injuries personally, you’re in safe hands with Ortho. He’s the state of the art in the medical field. Idia trusts Ortho’s careful hands.

Of course, that being said, Idia doesn’t leave your side. Not until you’re all patched up. Somewhere, somehow, you’ll find his hand slipped into yours. Fingers intertwined.

Trembling, even.

He does care. Quite a bit.

Of course, you’ll get quite the scolding after you’re up and about. Some chiding about how you love to go off script. Look, as much as Idia hates to nag, he hate seeing you hurt even more. So just… try to take care of yourself.

Value yourself, even just a bit more, ok?

Ever since you’ve partnered up with him, you learnt how to joke along with him, to send him little jabs of your own. You’ve learnt his little quirks, his old habits, and you’ve adapted to them. It’s odd talking through an screen sometimes, but as long as it makes Idia feel a little bit more comfortable around you.

Truth to be told? You have fun, talking to him. Even if it isn’t mission-related. You’ll like to think he does to. Idia does whisper into your ears, even when you’re supposedly “off-duty”. It’s a little more softer, then.

Awkward questions about how has your day been, the weather’s rather chilly today, hm? You can’t help but chuckle then. It’s cute how he tries to bait you into making idle conversation, but what the hell?

You’ll bite. It’s a refreshing change from the high-paced, tense missions you two seem to always be in. You tell yourself that you’ll indulge him, give the poor guy some company.

Who were you kidding?

You’re the one constantly coming back to him.

#twisted wonderland #twst #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #Idia shroud #Idia shroud x reader #Idia x reader #Idia #Agent reader #Ground Control Idia x Agent reader #lucky charm🔷

[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 🎵 (NEW)

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

Epilogue

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 🥰

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers x you #steve rogers series #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fanfic #captain america x reader #captain america x you #captain america imagine #agent reader #shield agent reader #inhuman reader #avenger reader #steve rogers #captain america #back and forth #back and forth masterlist #anika ann

[theidiotwhowritesthings]

The Color of Blood [2]

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warning: angst, canon level violence, cursing, oh did I mention angst?

Word Count: 3,372

Summary: In this world, a person didn’t discover color until they locked eyes with their soulmate. As an agent of SHIELD, finding your soulmate was hardly a priority. Especially since you were currently dealing with the shocking discovery that HYDRA had been pulling the strings behind SHIELD actions this entire time. Life was all about timing, and you were about to find out that your timing was absolute shit.

There were some people out in this wild, wild world who didn’t know what it was like to slowly wake up with a concussion, in an unknown room, surrounded by people who meant you harm. Unfortunately, you were not one of those people. Double unfortunately, you were finding yourself in that position again.

You blinked your blurry eyes a few times, trying to make the world stop spinning, and when things finally did become clear it took you a second to remember what had happened. Not the being attacked on a bridge thing. The suddenly being able to see color thing. You couldn’t help but suck in a sharp breath of shock. The room around you was so vibrant and sharp. It made you wish you had the time to fully absorb this new view of the world.

You didn’t though because suddenly you were being hit in the face again.

With a hiss of pain, your head snapped to the side and before you could do anything someone roughly grabbed the front of your shirt and yanked you off the ground into a seated position.

“Welcome back to the world of the living.” Rumlow grinned at you.

“Being stuck staring at your ugly mug,” You spat at him, “I kind of wish I was back in the world of the dead.”

The traitorous agent chuckled, “Oh, don’t say that. I thought we were friends, Agent.”

“That was before I found out you were HYDRA scum.” This time you literally spat at him.

Rumlow threw you aside with a growl as he swiped at his face. You threw your foot forward to kick out his knee. He crumpled to the ground with a cry of pain and you got up to run past him, but his rough hand wrapped around your ankle causing you to hit the floor again.

Your already concussed brain groaned at the impact, but you didn’t stop swinging. You kicked your leg out, trying to make contact with Rumlow’s stupid face, but he army crawled across the ground until he was lying on top of you. His hands pinned down your wrists as he sat on your hips.

Rumlow gave you a sickening smile, “No need to play rough.”

“Fuck,” You spoke between clenched teeth, “You.”

“You wanna know what I just got back from?” Rumlow replied.

“Therapy?”

Rumlow’s hands tightened around your wrists, “I was out burying your little friends.” You felt your entire body tense as your jaw clenched down. “Don’t worry. I remember exactly where we put ‘em. Just in case you wanna visit their unmarked graves one day. That is if we don’t put you beside them.”

“God, you just talk way too much.” You growled. There was no part of you that thought Brock Rumlow of all people had finally brought your friends down. Maybe it was blind faith, but you were sticking by it.

The sound of a door opening made Rumlow push up off of you, but you held back on going onto the offense. The door had swung open because a whole new squad of HYDRA goons had strolled in. At the head of the pack was Alexander Pierce. Somehow seeing him in color made you hate him all the more.

Pierce called out your full name then hummed with a polite smile. As if he was casually running into you at SHIELD headquarters rather than looming over you as the hidden HYDRA thug in charge. “I am so happy to see you here.”

You shakily got to your feet, in a defensive position, “You come a step closer, and I will kill you.”

“There’s no need for that.” Pierce clicked his tongue in disappointment.

Alexander Pierce had been your hero. You hadn’t worked with him personally in quite some time, but he was the one to recommend your recruitment to SHIELD in the first place. Where the world saw anger, chaos, and delinquency, he saw potential. He got you into the field agent academy and put you on the path to who you were today. Nick Fury’s pride and joy was Natasha Romanoff. You were Alexander Pierce’s.

He stopped a few steps in front of you and the only thing holding you back from clawing his face off were the agents right behind him with guns. Pierce stuck his hands into his suit pockets, “I’m not going to beat around the bush. I’m not sure why the asset brought you here, but I couldn’t be happier. You belong here. With us.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Oh, but you do.” Pierce smirked. “Why do you think I recruited you in the first place? I saw exactly what you could be from the start. You can do the world a lot more good from this side than the one you’re on.”

You scoffed, “Says the man who’s planning on slaughtering a few billion people.”

“Necessary sacrifices.” Pierce shook his head in disappointment. “Sometimes if you want to change the world you have to get your hands dirty. I taught you better than to think so small.”

“You didn’t teach me shit.” You snapped. “Your name might be on my entry paperwork, but I am not your puppet, and I never will be.”

Pierce sighed and you watched him move his jaw to the right and left as he thought. You recognized the look of irritation he wore. He nodded once and Rumlow was on you again. The agent grabbed you by the back of the neck and shoved the end of his handgun to your temple. The older man stepped closer again so he was right in your personal space, “Why did the asset bring you here?”

“He’s your asset. You tell me.” You replied with a raised eyebrow. Telling him the truth about your apparent soulmate seemed like a very bad idea. Pierce must have recognized the determination in your eyes. He clenched his jaw and walked toward the open door to the left, opposite from the one he came into. Pierce made a motion with his hand and Rumlow dragged you after him. The next room looked like it used to be the back of a bank. The walls were covered in small, locked vaults. In the center of the room though was a strange set up. A chair surrounded by technology. In said chair though, was your soulmate. The Winter Soldier. Men in lab coats fluttered around him, but you couldn’t look away from the man in the chair.

The Winter Soldier was shirtless and slumped over with a look of confusion and fear on his features. It didn’t suit the mental image you had constructed of who this man was. His eyes were blue. That stood out to you. Red and blue were the only two real colors you were able to recognize and name at this point. The Winter Soldier’s blue eyes were mixed with some form of gray making them look stormy. It was hypnotizing, but the pain in them was distracting. Your eyes slid away from his eyes to where the metal arm was hooked to his body. Ugly, red scars decorated his shoulder where metal met flesh. It looked painful.

“Sir, he’s unstable.” One of the men working on the computers said, “Erratic.”

It was only then that you started to connect dots. They called this man an asset, yet he was seated in some sort of contraption, confused and lost, while his fellow agents had him surrounded at gunpoint? That seemed less asset and more prisoner to you. It also bothered you that you recognized his face still. It was familiar, at the tip of your tongue, but you couldn’t quite place it.

“Mission report.” Pierce said. The Winter Soldier stared ahead at nothing. As if he were in a daze. “Mission report now.”

Pierce slid his glasses off, sliding them into his coat pocket, then he stepped forward to stand in front of the Soldier. He bent down just a bit and after a beat of silence the older man backhanded the Winter Soldier across the face. You physically flinched at the motion as your heart raced in your chest. You weren’t sure if your reaction was from watching your supposed soulmate get so casually slapped or from the gnawing fear in your stomach that something was very wrong here. This entire situation wasn’t what you originally thought it to be. The Winter Soldier looked back to Pierce, more life in his eyes, “The man on the bridge. Who was he?”

“You met him earlier this week on another assignment.” Pierce replied.

The Winter Soldier’s voice was softer than you thought possible, “I knew him.”

Pierce rolled a stool over and sat down, “Your work has been a gift to mankind. You shaped the century…”

The traitorous old bastard continued to talk, but you stared at the Winter Soldier’s face. Steve had frozen in shock. The Soldier knew him. Finally, it dawned on you. The realization felt like a sucker punch to your chest, all the air seemed to be knocked out of you. Of course, you recognized his damn face. You had just been at the ‘Captain America and the Howling Commandos’ exhibit with Steve just earlier this week.

“You’re Bucky Barnes.” You cried out in shock.

The Winter Soldier—no, Bucky’s eyes snapped to meet yours as if he was just realizing you were in this room too. Pierce barked out a curse to you, but Rumlow was the one to punish. The man slammed the butt of his handgun into the side of your face and threw you to the ground. His boot kicked your gut before you could even focus on the throbbing of your face. The blow to your temple left your ears ringing again as you tried to focus, and the next sound that came to you was yelling. You glanced up to see that Bucky had lunged across the room to you and he now held Rumlow by the man’s neck as he crushed him into the wall.

Rumlow was gasping for breath, clawing at the metal hand crushing his windpipe, while Pierce screamed at all the soldiers to not shoot. Nothing the old man or the scientists said made your soulmate stop. Rumlow’s face was turning blue and his desperate movements were slowing.

Pierce held a gun to your face, “Say his name now. Get him to stop.” You glared back at Pierce, lips pressed tightly together. He could shoot you if you wanted. You’d die happy with your last sight being Rumlow suffocating to death. Pierce locked his jaw then turned to hold the gun to the back of Bucky’s head. Your eyes widened. “Now, Agent!”

You had no other options. You were backed into a metaphorical corner.

“Bucky!” You called out.

Steve’s old friend released his grip on Rumlow. The agent fell to his knees gasping for breath while Bucky backpedaled in shock. You didn’t know what they did to the poor man, but he looked so lost. It was like every other moment he was trying to grasp where or who he was. Other agents grabbed him, and he didn’t fight back as they dragged him back to the chair. Before he could sit back up, they clamped metal rungs over his arms to lock him in.

“What the fuck was that!?” Pierce roared at you. He reached down and yanked you up in anger, “Why the hell did he bring you here with him!?” Pierce just stared you down and you tried to keep your face as blank as possible, but you could see the gears turning in his head. His eyes widened after a moment and you prayed it wasn’t for the reason you thought it was. Pierce nodded once and walked over to Bucky. He pointed the gun at him again, “What color are his eyes?”

You shook your head, “How am I supposed to know that?”

“Tell me the color of his fucking eyes.”

“I don’t know!” You yelled. Pierce wouldn’t shoot his asset, right?

Pierce lowered his weapon and you held back a breath of relief. Instead, the man motioned to one of the agents, “Start cutting off fingers on his right hand.”

Your eyes blew wide in panic, more than a trained agents’ probably should, but it was a scientist that spoke up, “Sir—!”

“He can still complete mission a few fingers short!” Pierce barked.

An agent walked over and pulled a knife from his belt. You tried to hold back, but the moment the agent’s knife pressed against Bucky’s skin you blurted the word out, “Blue!” Pierce gave you a sinister smile and you your entire chest ache. “He has blue eyes. Please don’t— Pierce, please.”

“Soulmates.” Pierce nodded with a chuckle. “Wow. Who would’ve guessed it? Your fated soulmate is a man who should’ve died 70 years ago. Huh.”

“What did you do to him?” You seethed.

“We made him the perfect weapon.” Pierce shrugged. He sat back down onto his stool. “The real question is… now what?”

“Sir.” The head scientist, you assumed since he had spoken the most, stepped forward with a gleam in his eyes, “I think we can use this to our advantage. We’ve been running into roadblocks with the asset. The longer he’s out of cryo, the harder it is to control him, but with his soulmate here…”

You clenched your hands into fists. Absolutely not. You’d die before being used as a part of this man’s torture. Your soulmate’s torture. Your thoughts were interrupted when an arm suddenly wrapped around your throat and lifted your feet off the ground. You clawed at the arm, knowing it was Rumlow behind you based on his angry growls in your ear, and tried to kick back at him futilely.

Bucky strained against the locks around his arms, his blue eyes burning with rage, and the scientist motioned to him, “See!”

“Rumlow.” Pierce said, but the man’s arm tightened around your throat. “Rumlow!”

Finally, you were released and when he dropped you, you stumbled to your knees gasping for air. You forced yourself to look up and your eyes met Bucky’s again. The rage had simmered into misery. You weren’t sure how present he was, how aware of the situation around him, but the sadness in his eyes was dreadful. Bucky was broad and large, significantly larger than you, but he looked so small in that chair. You had never felt such a strong urge to pull someone into your arms and whisper comforts to them. This wasn’t a man you knew. Not really. No more than the facts Steve told you or the fact that he was your soulmate, but you ached to bring him relief.

“Prep him.” Pierce commanded.

The scientist shook his head, “He’s been out of cryo freeze too long.”

“Then wipe him and start over.” Pierce replied and you watched as Bucky’s face crumpled in a mix of defeat and pain.

“Please, sir, I’m telling you.” The scientist tried to argue. “We use his soulmate to our advantage. His mission isn’t a success? Then she’s punished as well. The mission goes perfectly? He’s rewarded with time with her.”

You shot a glare to the scientist talking with his stupid bow tie. If you survived this, if you got the chance, you were gonna beat the shit out of him right after you dealt with Rumlow and Pierce.

As you mentally planned his fate, Pierce walked back over to you and reached his hand out. You refused to flinch as he let his hands trace the side of your face. He shook his head, “A stick always works better than a carrot. Wipe him now.” His lips curled up into a cruel smile. “And you, Agent, I want you to watch. You only just met, but I hear soulmates can bond extraordinarily fast.”

He gripped your chin tightly and snapped your head to watch as the scientists began to move about. The one with a bowtie grabbed a black mouth guard and brought it over to Bucky. Your soulmate’s jaw clenched briefly, eyes flared in determination, as he opened his mouth and let the scientist place the mouth guard in. They pressed a button, the seat lowered just a hair, and the large, metal circle behind him began to spin downward. Bucky’s chest was heaving with each breath.

You struggled against Pierce’s hand, “No. Don’t!” The arms of the circle stretched out as electricity bounced from site to site on the inner surface of the arms. The inner surfaces closed in to cover portions of Bucky’s face. You tried to tear yourself away, but your body was too weak to get the momentum it needed, “Stop it!”

The metal plates clamped down on Bucky’s face and you could briefly hear the humming of electricity. That sound was immediately washed out by the sickening screams coming from your soulmate. It was gut wrenching. Watching a man be tortured was rough, you had dealt with that before on a mission gone bad, but this was different. This was in a league of its own. You felt hot tears roll down your face as you clenched your eyes shut. That did nothing to drown out Bucky’s screams though. For the remainder of your life, however long that might end up being, you’d never be able to forget that sound. You’d never forget the absolute pain and agony and despair in every single scream that filled the air and cut through you like a hot knife.

And it just kept going and going and going.

It felt like a million years had come and gone.

Pierce let go of your face and you collapsed to your hands and knees. The scene had ended. Whatever it was they did to him had ended, but the screaming hadn’t. You could still hear it echoing in your head. Bouncing around your skull. Pierce knelt down beside you with a hum, “This is your last chance. Reach your full potential. Come with me. Help me change the world.”

You forced your head up so you could glare at the old man kneeling beside you. Never had you hated someone as much as you hated this man. Your training told you what you needed to do. Play the game. Tell Pierce what he wanted to hear. Go along with him until you found your moment to end him. You knew that. You knew that, but God, all you felt right now was rage. Your blood boiled under your skin. Your fury wouldn’t let you play this smart. You couldn’t even pretend to appease this man.

Regardless of what the consequence would be, you lunged forward and clawed at his face. Your nails caught his skin and dragged down enough to leave three long scratches down the side of his right face. Pierce howled in pain and then kicked you in the face. You went sprawling onto your back, blood pouring from your now broken nose.

“Such a waste.” Pierce spat at you. You groaned in pain and sat up just enough to watch as Bucky was released from his chair. The old man used his pocket square to blot at the bleeding scratches on his face. “Soldier?”

“Ready to comply.” Bucky said in an emotionless voice. It wasn’t Bucky anymore. It was the Winter Soldier again.

“You will kill Captain America. You will not let him reroute the helicarriers.” Pierce said gruffly. He glanced over at me and threw his bloody pocket square at me, “But you can start by killing her.”

You watched Pierce and Rumlow, along with the other agents, stalk out of the room without even a single look over their shoulders. Your face still ached, and you could feel blood running down the back of your throat. You slowly turned to look back at your soulmate to see he had risen from the chair and was now staring down at you. The stormy blue eyes were cold and lifeless. He began to march toward you while clenching and unclenching his metal hand.

You scrambled back as he continued to march toward you.

There was no recognition in his eyes.

Just malice.

Just the mission.

[previous chapter] [next chapter]

#marvel #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader #winter soldier #winter soldier x you #winter soldier x reader #reader insert #Female reader #agent reader #brock rumlow

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Hi! Just wondering if you had any plans for a part two for the nick Fowler one shot freedom! Really loved it

I have had a tiny draft from months ago just sitting forgotten in the archives of google docs but now I have added a little bit more ♥️

Freedom {2} || Nick Fowler

Read part one here

Angst!

Six months of peace. That was what you had before he found you. 

The second you unlocked the door to your waterfront villa you knew you were not alone. Following your usual routine, you stepped inside and closed the door before sliding off the jacket you wore now that the winter winds blew in from the Atlantic. You knew Nick better than anyone and he would not have made his move unless he knew your routine like the back of his hand. 

You had to stick to your routine.

You opened the coat closet beside the door and hung the jacket on the hook as your fingers curled around the knife you kept taped to the top shelf. Closing the door, you walked further into the house, the knife hidden behind your back and you tipped your head into each room. It was only as you reached the edge of the living room that you saw your cat moving away from the kitchen, whipping his tail high. 

You waited, steadying your breath as Nick ran out of patience and you raised the knife offensively. 

His footsteps were silent but six months apart could not break the long years of being married and knowing where he was by the very shifting of the air around him. Your fist struck out before he cleared the corner of the wall he was sheltering behind and he jumped back but it wasn’t fast enough. You kicked his kneecap as he retreated and he raised his weapon but you kicked it from his hand, the gun clattering to the floor before you pounced on him and pressed your blade to his throat. 

“How’d you know?” he asked with a chuckle. He was utterly fearless as he wiped his broken nose with the back of his hand and ignored the cold press of steel to his steady pulse. “I left the place spotless.”

“You still wear the same suffocating cologne,” you said with a snarl before looking at your cat sitting far across the room with his hackles raised. “And Felix hates men.”

His chest bounced with a laugh of disbelief, and he realised he really had forgotten that you had been an agent just like he had. “Now what? You just kill me and dispose of my body?”

You shook your head and shifted back on your heels after grabbing his gun. You kept your hold on the weapon loose so that lactic acid didn’t build in your muscles should you need to use them for another scuffle.

“If I kill you I would have to leave and I am done running, Nick. You came here to kill me and you failed.” His jaw ticked at the mention and you waved the gun at his head to remind him to stay put. “If you try again, you will fail again. Why can’t you just let it go?”

“Because you are mine.” 

“Were,” you corrected.

“You can change your name, you can change your hair, but you always have and always will be mine,” he taunted with the gravelly voice that you had once found sultry and attractive.

The gun wavered as he licked his lips and he smirked as he saw your finger lift from the trigger. 

“You’re a real fucking bastard.” You gave him a kick to the thigh for good measure as you stood up and shoved his gun down the back of your waistband and stalked over to the cabinet that stored a whiskey bottle. 

He rose to his feet and straightened his jacket before smoothing a hand over his hair that had grown out a little along with his beard. Now that you paid more attention to him you saw he could almost be called dishevelled.

“What did you do?” you asked as you poured a finger of the amber liquor into a tumbler and took a sip. “Why are you here?”

“I don’t know what you are talking about.” He shrugged innocently with a boyish smile but it was too forced to be honest. “I came to bring you home.”

You scoffed and tipped the glass back, gulping down the contents and breathing through the burn in your throat. “Don’t insult my intelligence just because I was foolish enough to marry you.”

He took the empty tumbler from your hand and poured half a glass for himself before stalking over to your bookshelf and running his finger along the spine of your favourite novel. “It took me a while to believe you really left when I saw your books still on the shelf. I was certain you would be back, you loved your books more than me.”

“They treated me better than you did.”

Nick emptied his glass in one shot, hissing at the burn before staring at the dregs at the bottom. The bitter floral aftertaste was quick to warm your tongue and you smirked as Nick rushed across the room to grab the bottle and sniff the spiked contents. 

“Mithridatism,” you said as you shook your hands and clenched your fists to keep the blood flowing. “Bet you didn’t think of that.”

Nick groaned as he stumbled towards the couch, dropping the glass to shatter on the floor. You had expected to feel joy or satisfaction as he fell slumped over the couch, the poison slowly paralysing him and leaving him a prisoner in his own body. 

“Why?” he slurred as his tongue grew heavy.

“I know you, Nick, and you are cruel. I knew you could never let me go.” You pushed away from the buffet table and dragged your unsteady legs across the room so you could tower over him for once. “I said I wouldn’t kill you and I keep my promises. You will live with the knowledge that I am happy and free living without you and I hope that knowledge destroys you.”

You slipped your phone from your pocket and made the call that would free you from him for good. 

“999, what’s your emergency?”

“It’s my husband, I-I-I think he’s had a stroke,” you stammered with a sob thrown in for good measure as Nick’s lips moved weakly but his voice failed him. “You have to send somebody quick!”

You muted the phone after giving the address of your villa and took a seat beside Nick, stroking his hair like you used to. “You used to make me so happy, Nick, until you broke my heart. Even then I thought if I stuck it out that one day we could get back to that place where you smiled at me like I was your world. I was so stupid.” You laughed humorlessly and tipped his heavy head back so you could see his sky blue eyes staring as the sound of sirens grew closer. “This is goodbye, Nick.”

“999, what’s your emergency?”

“It’s my husband, I-I-I think he’s had a stroke,” you stammered with a sob thrown in for good measure as Nick’s lips moved weakly but his voice failed him. “You have to send somebody quick!”

You muted the phone after giving the address of your villa and took a seat beside Nick, stroking his hair like you used to. “You used to make me so happy, Nick, until you broke my heart. Even then I thought if I stuck it out that one day we could get back to that place where you smiled at me like I was your world. I was so stupid.” You laughed humorlessly and tipped his heavy head back so you could see his sky blue eyes staring as the sound of sirens grew closer. “This is goodbye, Nick.”

#nick fowler imagine #nick fowler x reader #nick fowler x woc!reader #nick fowler fanfiction #angst #agent reader #the 355 imagine #sebastian stan characters

[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

#writing #tangerine #tangerine x reader #tangerine x oc #tangerine x you #tangerine fic #bullet train #bullet train x reader #lemon bullet train #fanfic #tangerine fanfic #bullet train fanfic #agent reader

[forhappysake]

We're Okay

A/N - Guys idk where this came from. I guess I'm just feeling emotional and inspired.

Content - After JJ admits her decade-long love for Spencer, you and your boyfriend have to have a conversation to calm both of your doubts and fears.

Warnings: spencer reid x fem!reader, season 14 spoilers, anxiety, mentions of typical BAU-level crime stuff, fluff at the end

You walked in the door slowly, cautionary even; afraid the smallest noise would bring reality crashing down on you. The car ride home had been completely silent, as neither of you bothered to turn on the radio. Spencer shuffled in behind you, the click of the lock making you wince as you did your best to avoid his gaze. You stripped off your coat, throwing it over the couch before walking straight into the bathroom, shutting the door firmly behind you. 

As you started the shower and stripped off your clothes, the evening’s events rushed back into your mind. Being involved in a hostage situation with an unstable unsub was one thing. JJ being held at gunpoint was worse. However, as if all that wasn’t enough, JJ admitting her decade-long hidden love for Spencer was the final nail in the coffin. As you climbed into the shower, you did your best to let the water wash away the thoughts running through your head. 

Unfortunately, your attempt was unsuccessful. As you dried off and wrapped yourself in a towel, your mind raced. You’d been dating Spencer for nearly a year and a half. The two of you had just recently moved in together. Having known him and JJ for at least half a decade, you knew they were close, but you never would have guessed this was coming. You couldn’t help but wonder if he felt the same way she did. If so, what did this mean for your relationship?

After stalling in the bathroom for so long that goosebumps dotted your freshly dried body, you mustered up the courage to slip out of the bathroom and into the bedroom that you shared with Spencer. As you walked across the hallway, you could see his silhouette sitting on the living room couch, head bent forward. You couldn’t tell if he was reading or in deep thought, but you decided that either option was better than the alternative: trying to have a conversation. 

You snuck into the bedroom, gently turning on the bedroom light and letting your eyes adjust to the warm glow of your room. You meandered to the closet, pulling out a simple t-shirt and shorts to sleep in. Slipping into your pajamas and stealing a glance at yourself in the vanity mirror, you noticed one of the many images covering the tabletop. 

A framed photograph from less than a year ago of JJ, Will, Spencer, and yourself with the boys on a weekend hiking trip. You felt a pang of guilt in your chest and wondered if Will had any idea what was going on in JJ’s head. You shook the thought away, reminding yourself that you had bigger problems of your own to deal with. You turned back to the bed, sliding under the covers and turning off the light. Despite your distress, you were exhausted and you found yourself losing track of time and drifting off to sleep in mere minutes. 

*  *  *

You awoke to the sound of the bedroom door latching shut. You rolled over, blinking your eyes open in an attempt to sneak a peak at your bedside alarm clock. You’d already been asleep for three hours and Spencer was just now coming to bed. It was well after midnight, and you knew that meant he had been up thinking about something. You figured it would be best not to push the subject after everything that had happened. 

With your eyes shut, you waited to feel the familiar sensation of Spencer climbing into bed. Instead, you felt his weight at the foot of the bed, as if he had perched himself on the end. You tried not to think much of this and did your best to fake sleep. However, it soon became apparent that Spencer was on to you. 

“I know you’re awake,” he said gently. His voice was gruff from the hours he’d spent in silence. Spencer waited before speaking again, “I think we should talk about what happened.” 

There it is, you thought. Your stomach sank as your eyes fluttered open. You rolled over to face him, leaning up on your arms. It was then you noticed that he was still in his suit. His unkempt hair fell over his eyes and you couldn’t help but feel a bit sorry for the disheveled man in front of you. “Alright,” you relented, still refusing to meet his eyes, “what do you want to talk about?”

Spencer rolled his neck, tension evident in his movements. “I want to know how you feel about what was said earlier,” he said. For the first time in hours, you met his eyes, trying to gauge his sincerity. You found no signs of dishonesty, so you fell back on the bed, letting out a dramatic sigh. 

“I don’t know, Spencer,” you groaned. “I definitely was surprised. I definitely wasn’t thrilled.” Spencer nodded, moving some hair away from his eyes as you spoke. “But,” you started again, “it’s not like we can go back and change it now.” 

He reached an arm out, putting a hand over the covers on top of your knee. “I know,” he whispered, “I just wanted to make sure you were okay.” 

You scoffed a bit at his sincerity and his innocence, meeting his eyes once more. “And how do you feel about it?” you asked. 

Spencer bit his lip in thought. You could tell you had caught him off guard with the question, and he seemed to be calculating his response. “Can I be honest with you?” he said. 

You raised your eyebrows, the nervous feeling in your stomach intensifying. Is this where he tells you he feels the same way and leaves for good? You pushed your thoughts to the side. “Always,” you whispered.

He sighed, laying back on the bed so he was next to you. You could feel the heat radiating off him, and you wanted nothing more than to curl into his warmth. You knew this wasn’t the time, so you held yourself back and held your breath, awaiting his response. 

“First, I was confused,” Spencer explained, eyes locked on the ceiling. “I haven’t thought about JJ like that in over ten years. Frankly, I never knew she thought of me that way, so I was caught off-guard.” 

So he did have a crush on her at one time, you thought. You were ready to close your eyes in defeat, to slip off the bed and out of the apartment and never come back when he cleared his throat. 

“But then,” he started once more, “I had a quick epiphany of all the moments she’d gone out of her way for me, and I could understand where she was coming from.” You turned to look at him, watching his eyes scan the ceiling as he tried to come up with his next statements. 

“And?” you asked, prompting him to continue. 

“And then,” he continued your previous statement, “I was terribly appalled.” 

Your head, which had turned to the ceiling, snapped back in his direction. You felt your eyebrows raise and your jaw drop open a bit in surprise. “Appalled?” you asked, confusion evident in your expression. 

“Appalled,” Spencer echoed, sitting up on the edge of the bed once more and looking back at you. 

“Why?” you asked. 

Spencer shook his head, looking around the room. “I’ve been thinking about that for the last couple hours, and I’ve come up with a lot of reasons,” he mused. “I know she was in a tight place, but Will deserves better than that. The boys deserve better than that. But aside from them,” he leaned over on the bed, intertwining his fingers with yours, “I couldn’t stop thinking about what you must have thought. I was so afraid of your reaction and of losing you.”

Despite your evident emotional state as tears pooled in your eyes, you tried to play it off. “Spencer, this isn’t about me,” you reminded him. 

“Yes,” he said, lying next to you, “it is.” Spencer ran a hand through his hair, pulling some curls out of his eyes. “Everyone knows how much I love you. I know how scary something like this can be. But you have to know that I have no idea where this came from and that anything JJ and I had died, on my end, long before I ever met you.” 

You glanced over at him, the sincerity in his voice had moved you to believe him. For a moment, you forgot about JJ and Will, the boys, and the implications of her words. You offered his fingers a small squeeze. “So we’re okay?” you asked in a tiny voice. 

“More than,” Spencer whispered. 

He rolled on his side to face you and you mirrored his actions. He wrapped his arms tight around your body, the textured material of his suit jacket pressed against your cheek. A gentle kiss was pressed to your forehead and you found yourself falling back into sleep. After several minutes passed, you felt Spencer’s voice rumble through his chest for a final time before he succumbed to sleep: “Ever since I met you,” he mumbled, smoothing some stray hairs away from your face, “it’s always been you.”

#criminal minds #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid #criminal minds x reader #dr spencer reid #spencer reid fluff #bau x reader #jennifer jj jareau #jennifer jareau #jennifer jareau fanfiction #jeid #doctor spencer reid #doctor reid #agent reid #matthew gray gubler #criminal minds fic #bau x female reader #bau fic #bau #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid criminal minds #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fic #spencer reid angst #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine

[notafunkiller]

she chose me

Summary: Steve's hopes get crushed when he wrongly assumes you'd choose him over Bucky.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x agent!female reader

Warnings: 18+, no condom (but f is on birth control), teasing, pet names, jealousy, sergeant + sir + daddy kìnk, vibranium arm kìnk, language, degrading, praising, no mention of y/n etc.

Word Count: 6.9K

Bucky Barnes masterlist

A/N: I really hope you’ll enjoy it! This was inspired by the "She chose me." TikTok trend.

Please, do not repost or translate without my permission!

You’re all quiet, watching the back and forth between Cap and Bucky. Not even Sam intervenes.

“You didn’t-”

“This is just not gonna work, Buck.”

Bucky rolls his eyes, with an expression you like to describe as bitchy. He’s so sassy without even intending to, and you wonder how bitchier he’d be if this wasn’t his best friend talking.

“Let’s see if people agree.”

He looks around waving at you and the rest of the team while Sam just snorts, covering his mouth with his hand.

But you’re not amused because you have no idea how to handle this diplomatically.

“Whose side are you on?” Steve’s tone is deep and authoritative, making you feel a little uneasy.

You don’t know how to talk to Avengers sometimes. You are on friendly terms, even when you train. Sam always cracks jokes, Steve shares stories and gives advice, and Bucky is Bucky. Nat and Sam call him The Machine for a reason. But he’s a really good professor and an even better observer. He pays attention to every recruit and remembers what they need to work on. You find him extra intimidating because he’s also the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen. No exaggeration. And it’s not in the usual clean and golden boy way you are used to, anyway. He’s been through shit and it’s showing in the way he carries himself and doesn’t talk much when it’s not needed.

But you pay attention too, and this is why you think you were chosen to lead the recruits for this mission. You are on good terms with the Avengers, and Bucky probably approved the idea of working with you because you didn’t piss him off like most do. You know he hates chit chat, you learned how to read most of his stares and to not take it personally when he makes remarks about your fighting skills. They’re not your strongest asset, but you have a flair and you come up with the best solutions under pressure. You managed to pin him down once for a few seconds, and that is probably your greatest achievement.

But in moments like this, you don’t know how to say things without upsetting one side.

“You won’t get in trouble, don’t worry,” Bucky adds confidently. You’re not surprised when four out of your six colleagues agree with Bucky. They explain quickly why, emphasizing how much faster and efficient it would be if you followed that route, but their voices are still trembling. And you get it. Telling Captain America to his face you prefer his best friend’s plan over his will always be a risk. But if he gets mad, that says more about him as a leader than about anyone else.

Sam raises his hands in the air defensively, probably enjoying this as a show, but based on the looks he shares with Bucky, it seems like he agrees with him too.

You try to find your words, knowing you’re the last one from your team to speak, but before you can even open your mouth, Steve already smiles, pointing at you with his index finger. “Look at this, though! She agrees with me… She chose me.”

His grin is cold and a little arrogant. What you don’t notice, though, is the intention Steve had when he decided to use those exact words, but Bucky does. And he clenches his jaw at the same time his vibranium hand curls into a fist; a silent response to the not-so-innocent assumption that Steve made.

After a few seconds, Bucky leans in, his gaze steady and confident. “Did she?”

There is no way you would pick Steve’s plan. You are too smart and you have too much integrity to pick his side just to kiss his ass. He raises an eyebrow at you this time, a confident smirk forming on his lips. “Did you really choose him? You really think his plan would work better, doll?”

You feel surrounded by Bucky… attacked even. Your cheeks are getting hotter, too, and you know there is nothing you can do to hide your redness. Doll… He called you that when he turned you again on your back the day you managed to pin him down. It’s something about the way he says it that makes it absolutely deadly. Your first instinct was to be offended, but you reminded yourself he is a man born in 1917. He lived his twenties in the 40s, and doll was used as slang for sweetheart.

Taking a deep breath, you tilt your head slightly, directing your response to Steve. “It’s not about choosing sides, but considering all perspectives for the best outcome. And your plan, Captain, has its strengths, but I’m inclined to agree with Sergeant Bucky.” You bite your lip. “It’s about finding the most effective strategy for the mission, not a personal preference of any kind.”

Steve’s smile falls off, but your attention shifts back to Bucky’s grin that lightens up his face.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

“Well, then,” Steve sighs. “Can I have a word with you in private?”

You don’t realize he’s speaking to you until he says your name.

Surprised, you jump. “Yes, of course.”

*

Steve leans back in his chair, a slight smile playing on his lips as you write down the last details. “You know, I value your insights on the mission.”

You look surprised because how can he value your opinion when this is your second mission only? He’s Captain America!

“Oh?”

“I trust your judgment, and your training is going great. If you and the team chose Bucky’s plan, then we do it.” You see his jaw clench, though, so you know it’s not easy for him to say it. Even if it’s his friend… interesting. “Maybe, when all is over, we could grab a cup of coffee and talk about other things. What do you think?”

You’re silent for a couple of seconds, trying to realize if he means it in the way you think he is. There is no way, right?

Just in case, you offer him a friendly smile, “Thanks, Cap! I value our teamwork too. Coffee sounds great after. It could be a good way for all of us to unwind as a team.”

He nods, sighing. “I’m glad you’re on board. I’m looking forward to that coffee, even if it’s with the whole team. And please, call me Steve.”

So he was flirting…

“Thank you,” you pause as you stand up. “I’m gonna talk with Sergeant Barnes so we can get things ready for tomorrow. Have a good night, Steve!”

*

You knock only three times before the door opens and a Bucky dressed in shorts and a white tank top lets you in with a smirk.

“Sergeant Barnes,” you nod as you take a step inside his bedroom. He only stays here before and after missions when he is too tired to go to his apartment, so you don’t expect to see any personal objects there except for a few clothes.

“What happened to Bucky?”

You look at him surprised, tightening your hold on the tablet you are holding.

What?

“Sir?”

Bucky closes his eyes for a second. “Earlier, during the meeting, you called me Sergeant Bucky.”

Shit!

Maybe you should start calling him Sergeant Barnes in your head as well to avoid these fucks up. You feel so embarrassed that you want to disappear. You don’t want him to think you disrespect him in any way. His rank carries a lot of weight and trauma.

You clear your throat, slightly flustered. “My apologies, Sergeant Barnes. It won’t happen again, sir.” You offer him an apologetic smile while trying very hard to maintain a professional tone.

Bucky’s smirk softens as he places his flesh hand on your shoulder. You feel your legs transforming into jelly.

“My point was, doll, there is no need to be so formal. We’re off-duty here, and titles aren’t necessary. Just call me Bucky.”

“Alright, Bucky,” you smile. “I’m sorry for bothering you, but I came to discuss the plan for tomorrow. I talked to Steve and we agreed it would be wise for you to lead the way as Mr. Wilson-”

“Steve?” Bucky interrupts before you can finish your sentence. He doesn’t even bother to look at your tablet, either.

“Yes, we talked in the office.”

“No, I get that. But you call him Steve? What happened to Cap?” Bucky knows that might sound really childish, but he can’t help it. What is Steve trying to do?

Was it some kind of test? Did you misunderstand everything with Steve?

“Oh, Cap allowed me to call him Steve earlier. I am sorry if it sounded disrespectful.”

He squeezes your shoulder even before moving his hand to your chin, raising your face, and you feel yourself blushing again.

The blue of his eyes is so intense that you can’t see how anyone would be able to survive it.

“You apologize too much, doll. I don’t like it.”

You can’t breathe. “Sor-” You pause, realizing he is right. Apologizing is second nature to you. It feels wrong when you don’t, and you do it without even thinking about it. “I guess I do that a lot. I’ll work on it, Bucky.”

“I’m not your teacher right now, doll.” He smiles, letting go of your chin. “Just remember, we’re not all about formalities here. Relax a bit.”

Easier said than done. But you need to keep it together and ignore the urge to grab his face and finally kiss him. So you focus on talking about the mission and the members of the team. You talk about all of your colleagues, and Bucky helps you take notes. He switched so easily from friendly to the sergeant mode, which is fascinating.

He explains step by step your positions, the way things are gonna happen and even two back up plans. Two!

You’re not overwhelmed by the amount of information, but you’re quite surprised by how much he talks and how well he answers every possible question any of you could have. You don’t think you’ve ever heard him speak for more than a few seconds continuously so you try to focus on every word.

Only when he finishes and you close your tablet after sending everyone the plan, do you see him relaxing again.

With a smirk, he asks you, “How did Steve take it?”

“He was fine with the plan, even suggested if we feel like doing it, to get one or two more members. But based on what you said, we won’t need it.”

“He has a point, of course, but if you said you don’t think you need it, good.” You try not to stare at his lips as he speaks, but it’s so hard. “And I meant how he took that you chose my plan. That you chose me.”

You meet Bucky’s gaze, trying to keep your composure, “Steve seemed more than okay with it from what I saw. He values the team’s decision. Plus, it’s not about choosing sides, and-”

“And not a personal preference of any kind,” he interrupts just to quote you, and you don’t know if you should feel flattered he remembers word by word or to prepare yourself for a negative reaction. To be honest, your head is spinning and him being so close makes it worse. “I heard you very well, but I’m curious…”

He extends his hand and carefully tucks your hair behind your ears. You swear you can hear your own heartbeat going crazy. And if you do, so does he.

“About what?”

“Would the answer be different if it was about personal preferences, doll? Would you choose him?”

You freeze. You are simply in shock because this cannot happen to you. From Steve asking you out earlier to your crush basically doing this. You’re confused and a little tired, but you didn’t imagine all of this. Does Bucky want you? Is that it?

You take a deep breath praying you won’t choke on the words. “In a hypothetical scenario based on personal preferences, Bucky, I would still not pick him.”

Your voice is trembling, but you maintain eye contact even after admitting it. You didn’t choose Bucky’s plan because of your crush, so you shouldn’t feel embarrassed or exposed. He’s the one who let you call him Bucky, who touched you and asked you that. You don’t know if he counts romance as a personal preference, but there is an urge inside you to find out. You wonder how he’d taste, if he’d kiss you back if you kissed him first, how your mission would be if you crossed the line. Your thoughts are foggy.

“So you’d choose me.”

You clear your throat. “Yes.”

“Over Captain America.” His grin is so boyish and cute that it makes you smile. He looks younger and less… burdened when he gets like this. Bucky chuckles, a mischievous glint in his eyes, “Well, well, well. Looks like I got someone not kissing Captain America’s ass for a change. That’s really rare. You’re a naughty one, aren’t you?”

You mask your gasp with a cough, deciding to play along, a sly grin forming on your face. “Maybe I just have a thing for underdogs.”

Bucky’s eyes light up with amusement to your annoyance but also excitement, and he leans in, taking the tablet from your hand and placing it on the floor without a care. “Underdogs, huh? Ouch, that hurt a little. I thought I was your favorite super-soldier.”

You can’t help but giggle, feeling enough encouragement from his reaction to touch his vibranium arm just to feel it. You got the chance to do it only for a couple of seconds and it always fascinated you, especially the golden pattern. The fact he can feel everything because it’s connected to his nerves is insane to you. It probably is to him too. “Oh, you are. And my favorite teacher too. But a little competition never hurts, Sergeant Barnes.”

You can see he feigns offense. “Competition, huh?” Bucky’s playfulness turns into a serious tone as he adds, “Well, let me show you why I’m the only choice.”

And without warning, he closes the distance between you and kisses you.

You gasp, taken aback, but you bring your hands to his face and hip before you deepen the kiss. He’s not as gentle as you expected, his left arm flying to your ass and bringing your hips closer to his immediately.

You moan when you feel his hard on so close to your pussy, and tug on his hair a little.

“Aren’t you a naughty girl?” He lowers his lips to your jaw. “I could basically smell how wet you got earlier as soon as I called you doll. And so did Steve.”

You want to open your eyes and tell him to stop talking about his friend. You don’t want to be turned off, but he already continues.

“He thought he stood a chance with my girl.”

“Your girl?” You whimper when his teeth graze your neck before his tongue licks on the spot. He intends to leave a mark, you have no doubt, and you absolutely love it.

“Mine.” His whisper makes you shiver. “I want to mark you. The thought of having you covered in hickeys during the mission makes me so hard it almost hurts. Gonna show everyone you belong to me.”

“Do I belong to you, Sergeant Barnes?” You take a step back but let your hand linger on his chest teasingly. “Because I don’t remember you asking me to dinner.”

Bucky grins. “Dinner is a classic move, and I adapted very well to the present. But of course I can stop with the kisses right now, and we can have some late dinner.”

You roll your eyes at his unbelievably good answer. Fucker!

“This is not what I meant, Barnes, and you know it.”

“I don’t know it. But I want to know something else.”

You don’t even doubt he means something dirty because it’s too obvious.

“Like what?”

“Like how your pretty pussy tastes while you come all over my face.”

You gasp at the no-filter words. You’re so used to Steve’s warning you to use proper language, that you did not expect it.

“I thought men your age were all about being proper and refined… Don’t they teach subtlety in the 40s etiquette class or did you skip it?”

You tease him on purpose, and he knows it. You are well aware what a nerd he was in school. Such a nerd that it was displayed in the museum. You snort. You were a nerd too, so you love it.

Bucky chuckles, a mischievous gleam in his eyes as he brings his hands to your pants, unzipping them without warning. Holy. Shit. The way you love this. He reads your body language very well and he has his super soldier senses.

“Well, doll, proper and refined went out the window with the 40s, right? Because otherwise you’d not be standing here letting me undress you.”

You raise your eyebrow, a mix of surprise and amusement on your face. His energy is so light, and he looks like a man without a worry in moments like this.

“You’re the one who offered to show me what the little upgraded version of you can do, after all.” You take off your shoes before pulling down your pants as soon as he drags them to your ankles. You can’t believe you’re about to fuck James Bucky Barnes! “Why would I say no?”

“Just sit back and enjoy the ride, doll. Gonna make sure you have the time of your life.”

You snort, amused by his eagerness, and decide to take off your shirt yourself to see his reaction. And he doesn’t disappoint.

He grins like a child, his hands flying straight to your back without taking his eyes off your chest. And before you know it, your bra is on the floor and Bucky cups your breasts, bringing your left tit to his mouth.

If you gasped when you felt the cold touch of the vibranium, now you moan loudly, enjoying the way he licks around your skin. He avoids your nipple on purpose, so you decide to take matters into your own hands quite literally and get a grab of the top of his hair, forcing him to suck on your nipple.

“Fuck! I didn’t expect you to be so whorish,” you say without realizing, and you feel his snort and breath on the wet patch he left with his tongue.

Bucky’s grin turns into a sly smirk. “This is what you call whorish? I guess I’ll give you an experience you won’t ever forget.”

“Talk less, do more.”

You want to enjoy more of this. You have a mission in a few hours, and it might be just a one time thing anyway since he is Bucky Barnes. You don’t want to get your hopes high.

Bucky lets go of your breast with a pop and moves up, raising your head so he can kiss you.

It’s electrifying, and desperate, and not enough. You move your hands to the bottom hem of his tank top and lift it, interrupting the kiss so you can take it off completely. You just want to feel him, all of him.

You step back for a second, wanting to look at him properly, but you notice a change in his eyes that he, of course, tries to mask.

“Why are you nervous? You look like a fucking god! I should be nervous here.”

Bucky’s eyes flicker with vulnerability.

“I guess I’m not used to someone seeing my scars or my,” he waves toward his vibranium arm, and you frown.

“I will sound totally weird, but they all make you really cool, Serge.” You trace down a few scars when you see he is completely relaxed and continue. “Do I have to lick them all to make you believe me?”

You move your hands under his shorts before he can answer, though, finally touching his cock. You both moan at the feeling. He’s hard and thick, and the head is wet. You bring your fingers to his lips, smearing some of the precome before leaning in to suck it off.

You’re not prepared for his moan or for the way he attacks your mouth, and definitely not for him to snap your underwear using his flesh hand. Not even his vibranium one!

You moan into his mouth. He makes you feel like you’re floating and you need to fuck him right then.

“You’re not just whorish, you’re a whore!” You pause when you feel his fingers close to your entrance. “No wonder why you didn’t belong in the 40s.” Then you move, allowing him to touch you. You don’t realize what you said, and when you do, in the middle of dragging his shorts down, you curse yourself in your mind. It sounds like the most disrespectful thing ever. This man’s fate was changed by monsters who cryogenically freezing him and brainwashing him, and you are selfishly talking as if he belonged to you. “I’m sorry that was awful of-” But he interrupts you before you can get a chance to properly apologize.

“You like that, don’t you?”

A wave of shame surges through your body. Your cheeks are burning.

“I’m really sorry,” you take your hands off his shorts and look away, not even peaking at his cock. You ruined it, didn’t you? “I will just go.”

Bucky shakes his head, puffing. “For such an amazing agent, you’re not a good room reader, are you?”

Your eyes finally drop to his cock, which you’ve been trying to avoid in the last minute out of shame, but there’s no need anymore since he’s teasing you. He’s just a bit longer than average, and he’s really thick, and the veins do not make it ugly at all. You are curious how it’d feel in your hand, how much it’d twitch, how Bucky would moan.

“You aren’t a good room reader, either then, Barnes, since I’m not getting dicked down and my hair pulled, am I?”

Something snaps in him, and it’s visible in his eyes. You don’t know what to expect so you just watch him. But you can’t. He is so quick that, despite your crazy training, you don’t anticipate his move. His hand wraps around the hair from your nape and fists it hard enough for you to move along with him.

“Wanna be dicked down? Fine by me, get on your hands and knees.”

You’re surprised, of course you are, but his tone is firm and you find yourself nodding and doing what he told you. You know you can say no; there is nothing in Bucky’s energy that makes you feel unsafe or as if you have no choice.

At the same time, he lets go of your hair just so he can take off his shorts completely.

“Are you not gonna make sure I’m wet enough for you?” You ask when you see him getting closer to you again, even though you are very wet. You just want to push his buttons.

“I can smell you if I focus on it, let me remind you.” He smiles. “I know you’re soaked, and you wanna be dicked down. Or are you backing off?”

Challenging prick!

You roll your eyes. “I’m not scared of your dick.”

“Good, because he wants to be friends with you.”

You close your eyes, cringing. “God, you were this close to turning me off.” You raise your hand in the air, putting your weight on the left one as you bring your thumb and index finger close to each other to show him exactly what a thin line this was.

Bucky laughs, shaking his head. “Don’t worry, I’m gonna make you forget it in a second.”

Your first instinct is to want to tease him about the second remark, to ask him if this is how long he can last, but you’re too horny now. And you also need rest for the mission tomorrow.

“How, uh…” You pause not knowing how to ask this properly. “Can you, uh, make babies?” You cringe at your words. “I mean, widows can’t… and I just wanted to know if we need a condom to be extra careful since you might be extra fertile because I am on the pill and I have no idea how sex with a super sold-”

Bucky’s lips press against yours suddenly, making you stop talking.

“Breathe.”

“I’m breathing,” you whisper and he cups your face.

“Not enough. We can use a condom if you want, but I’ll need to check where I can find one. Or we can go bare if you trust me… I can pull out and you are already protected, so there shouldn’t be a problem, I think.” He pauses to kiss your lips again. “But we can still use a condom anyway to be extra careful as you said.”

You frown at that, suddenly more desperate to feel him bare than ever before.

“No, I trust you. I have never done it without a condom before, and I assume you didn’t have much time to uh… have sex.”

Bucky snorts amused. “Now why do you assume that?”

“You look like you haven’t been fucked since 1945.”

The fact he doesn’t even deny it makes you feel even bolder, so you reach for his cock and place your thumb on his wet head while wrapping the rest of your hand around the length. “Are you gonna even last for a second once you’re inside me, Sergeant Barnes?” You snort when you see him trying to hold back his moan by biting his lip. It makes you feel happy. “Or do you even manage to get inside me before- ahh!” He is predictable this time as he pulls your hair, so you laugh.

“Are you familiar with this whole red, yellow, green color code?”

You gasp. “Yes, read about it, never needed it. But how do you know that?”

“I read about it, too.” His grin is so wide and beautiful that you melt again.

“Quite naughty of you, Serge. Reading dirty books. Needed some ideas?”

Bucky smirks, kissing you again and again. “Gonna need a review after I finish with you.”

“You finishing with me?” You smile. “Big words, Barnes, but no action.”

He knows you challenge him, and you don’t try to hide it. Do you have to beg for his cock for him to finally fuck you? He is edging you on purpose at this point.

You let out a whimper in anticipation when he moves behind you.

“Are you sure you’re fine with no condom?”

“Ihm, I’m not ovulating anyway,” you whisper, trying not to sound too eager. But you are. You want to get dicked down, indeed. And you wanted it for months.

His silence makes you a bit nervous, but the sounds of him dropping to his knees behind you, followed by his hand grabbing his cock and positioning it at your entrance while squeezing your hip with the metal arm.

You love the sensation of the coldness, but you love even more when he leans in to kiss your back before he pushes inside you.

It takes two tries, though, for him to be able to push halfway inside you because you kept pushing his dick out of you instantly. You managed to take him only when he brought his fingers to your clit and rubbed a bit.

You still laughed though because the sounds were too funny and his little frustrated whimpers were hilarious. The amusement turns quickly into more horniness when you feel him stretching you without even being fully inside you. You dreamed and daydreamed about it… fantasized about it, but it still wasn’t even close to how it actually feels. How full it feels. It’s like you cannot even think, your body is weak.

“Fuck,” your voice is cracking. “Deeper.”

“You’re so fucking tight,” he whispers.

“So?” You bring your hand to his ass, trying to show him you really need it deeper. “Why do you make it sound like a bad thing? Or are you trying not to come, Mr. Super Soldier?”

“You have quite a mouth on you, I think you need it-”

“You talk way too much. Are you nervous or-” It’s his turn to interrupt you with a thrust. Such a deep thrust your head is spinning. He’s not fully inside you, you realize, but he doesn’t try to, instead, he starts to fuck you, taking your breath away. His fingers leave your clit, grabbing your hips with both hands.

There is no question anymore, just fucking as you wanted.

And it feels like heaven. You try to keep your eyes open just so you look at him over your shoulder, but it’s impossible.

“Cat got your tongue?”

You groan. “No, you did, n-now fuck me harder.”

“Well, well,” he slows down and you almost wanna die. “This is not how you talk to your Sergeant, is it?”

He can’t do this!

“Fuck you!”

“What does my baby want?” His thrusts are too slow and teasing, just like his voice. “Use your words, beg for it.”

You’re not turned off, surprisingly. Not at all, on the contrary, the firm tone he uses, the words… you’re getting hornier, if that is even possible.

“I love your cock, Sergeant, so please give it to me. Fuck me harder and faster. Need you to pull my hair, and choke me, and… be rough.” You would be embarrassed if you weren’t so desperate. You know he wouldn’t make fun of you for this, so you trust him.

“Only mine.” You take a deep breath relieved when you feel his right hand wrap around your hair. “Do you hear me? Answer me.”

You nod, unable to say anything because he starts to thrust hard and fast, just like he did before he stopped. Your tits are jumping at the impact, and you have to dig your toes into the floor.

“Use your words. If you want my,” he moans. “If you want my cock and my hand wrapped around your neck, you have to use your big girl words. Tell me you’re only mine.”

You can’t hold back your tears this time. You love it so much, you can’t believe you waited so long to have him.

“Only yours.”

“No Steve.”

He lets go of your hair, wrapping his hand around your neck. No pressure, not moving it, he’s just holding it there.

“There’s n-no Steve, Sergeant. Only you. My pussy belongs to you. I o-only want to get filled by you.”

You know he’s smiling without needing to look at him.

“You love your Sergeant’s cock, don’t you?” You have no idea how he’s able to speak while thrusting so hard. He’s a fucking robot, indeed. “No one else could give you this, no matter how much they tried.”

You feel the building in your core. You’re so, so close already, so you try to place your weight on only one hand and bring the other to cover his, and before he can say something, you encourage him to choke you by pressing his fingers on the sides of your neck.

You moan so loudly you surprise even yourself. You sound like a cat.

“Please, sergeant, please, choke me.” You repeat your move and you close your eyes. “Please, daddy, I’m so c-close.”

He pauses for a second, and you don’t know why.

Before you can ask what’s wrong, he doesn’t just start to thrust inside you again, he dicks you down just the way you wanted. It’s as if he fucks the air out of your lungs every time you exhale. You’re crying and screaming at this point, so loud the whole floor must hear you. But you’re not ashamed. You feel so close you can almost taste it.

You barely hear his whimpers, but they’re there and they’re so beautiful.

You get no warning when he decides to squeeze the sides of your neck: gently at first, but then? Perfect. So perfect you come without warning, not being able to even say his name. You just scream some nonsense, your hand dropping from his to the floor so you can ground yourself properly. Your whole body is burning, and burning, and burning, coming alive for what feels like an eternity.

He doesn’t wait even for a second after you come down from your orgasm. Instead, he gets his dick out of you, grabbing you by your ass and raising you in his arms. Still weak, you barely have the strength to wrap your legs around his waist and your hands around his neck. He’s sweaty but not that hot. His metal arm is making you cool down.

“Daddy’s gonna take good care of you.” His lips find your forehead and you fight the urge to kiss his neck. You feel so small in his arms… and as if no one can hurt you.

You’re smiling like a fool when your back hits his bed, and so is he. Such a beautiful, blinding smile.

You let him spread your legs before you drag his face down so you can kiss him. You bite his lip hard until he opens his mouth, moaning when you feel him entering you again. This time, you’re relaxed so he thrusts inside you so much easier.

“Gonna make you come again around your daddy’s cock..”

His hands wrap your legs around his ass when he starts to thrust again.

“You’re quite… into it, Sergeant Barnes. So dirty!”

He gently grabs your jaw. “Tongue out.”

You do it, opening your mouth and waiting, and waiting until you finally understand what he’s about to do.

Instead of being grossed out, as you expected, you eagerly swallow the saliva that he lets drip from his mouth, which lands on your tongue.

You bat your eyes as you start to move your hips to meet his thrusts halfway, and that sends him into a frenzy.

“Fucking hell, you don’t want to sleep tonight, do you?” He asks sarcastically, but you don’t have enough air to tease him with a stamina comment. “You want me to make you scream and swallow my spit and come till we have to go to that fucking mission. Till your beloved Steve needs to come to us himself and hear us covered in come but still fucking.” You moan at the idea of your teammates finding out about this. You get awful comments anyway; at least you can get him for real and rub it in their faces. “You would like that, wouldn’t ya? Having all my undivided attention on you, not caring that my best friend is mad…” The thrusts are so deep that your head falls on the pillow instantly. You cannot keep your eyes open for even a second and you’re crying again. “Not caring my pal wanted you so badly he even tried to take you out tonight.”

“Sergeant-”

Thrust after thrust. You grab his forearm as tightly as you can so you can have something to hold onto.

“He thought he could have you, that you’d choose him. Come on, love. Come on, scream my name, let them hear. Let them all hear whose cock you cry for. Who is the one you belong to.” His balls slap against your skin so hard they tickle you. But not even that can distract you from almost reaching your orgasm. His words, his cock, his possessiveness…

“Sergeant, please. No one but you, can I… c-can I touch my clit? I’m so, so close.”

You don’t have to, though, because he is quick enough to bring his flesh hand between your bodies and rub your clit just the way you need it.

“F-fuck, coming,” you manage to warn him before the pleasure hits you. It’s so overwhelming you see white, digging your nails into his forearm.

You don’t know what you call him… daddy, Bucky or sergeant, but it doesn’t matter. You hear his praise, how you’re his good girl, and his words encouraging you to come for him.

When you can focus again, you kiss him with everything you have.

“Need you to come for me, Sergeant Barnes,” you whisper between kisses. “Need you to come inside me, need you to fill me up with your come, sir.”

He hisses loudly, his eyes being more grey than blue.

“Don’t tease me.”

“I mean it,” you make eye contact, wrapping your legs tighter around him. “Not the heat of the moment. I need your come, daddy. I’m on birth-”

He kisses you so hard your teeth end up hitting, but you don’t care. This is everything.

“Gonna come, gonna give you what you want. Gonna make you my come s-slut. Is that what you needed?”

“Yes, yes.” You’re so excited to watch him finish you don’t even realize how much you like being called his come slut until he says it again. “Come on, Sergeant, come for me.”

After you say that, it only takes him two more thrusts to finish, moaning your name.

His eyes close, and you notice how pretty his eyelashes are. And the little moles on his face… his mouth semi-open and his hair in all directions.

You want to witness this every day.

Before you can stop yourself, you lean in to kiss his nose and cheeks, letting your hips move at the same time.

“C-can’t… doesn’t stop,” he manages to groan, and you bring your hand to his nape, caressing his hair as he rides out his orgasm.

When he finally finishes, though, his head falls on top of your breasts, his mouth finding your nipple and playing with it before sucking it fully into his mouth.

“Easy, Bucky,” you moan, but he keeps going, though.

You have to pull his hair, to make him stop.

“Don’t get me wrong, I love it, but I need to uh… I’m tired.”

You’re back to your shy self. But his smile still makes you feel so relaxed.

“Got you tired, huh?” He winks, giving your breasts a kiss before pressing his lips against yours. “Fuck, I’ve never been so aroused in my entire life. Won’t even mention how happy I am.”

“Me neither,” you whisper.

“Well, we need to get used to it.”

You laugh so happily that you think your chest will explode. It’s surreal.

“You owe me that dinner after all.”

“A million dinners.”

You roll your eyes playfully. “Trying to charm me?”

He pecks you one more time before getting out of you with a whimper.

“I’ve already done it.”

It’s weird to be empty like this again, but seeing your come and wetness on his pubic hair or dripping out of your pussy just to soak the sheets beneath you distracts you. You made a mess.

“We need to clean this.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he says distractedly as he uses his index finger to push some come back inside you. Jesus! “This is the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”

You smile. “You’re a whore.”

“Your whore.” He slowly gets out of bed, grabbing his shorts from the floor.

“Want me to go?” You ask all of a sudden, gaining a confused look from him.

“Why would I want that? Unless you do, of course…” He runs a hand through his hair, trying to fix it a little. “But I want you to stay.”

“Saw you dressing.” You bring your knees up just to put your chin on top of them. You feel extra shy.

He smiles. “Just gonna get you some water. I don’t want you dehydrated.”

*

Bucky knew Steve was in the kitchen as soon as he went down the stairs. He smiles casually, not giving him a second look as he goes straight to the fridge. It’s not like he hasn’t seen him in shorts or shirtless before, and Bucky knows he knew exactly what happened upstairs.

“Can’t sleep?” Steve’s tone is so obvious Bucky almost laughs.

“Not sleepy yet. What about you? You’re alright, punk?”

“Yeah,” he says, taking a sip from his own glass of water; his hands tightly wrapped around the glass.

“Still mad about earlier? You know I’m right.”

Steve shakes his head. “No, it’s all good.”

Bucky sighs dramatically. He loves Steve, he is his brother, but sometimes he is so annoying.

“Well, try to get some sleep. I suggest you wear some earplugs or something, though,” Bucky suggests casually, taking a whole bottle of water. “We wouldn’t want you too sleepy tomorrow. And the night is young.” He even winks at Steve, making him clear his throat.

“Buck…”

“Not a super soldier perk, I know, but you understand, right?” The smirk he suddenly gives Steve is almost sinister. “She chose me after all, and I gotta let her test-drive me. Have a good night!”

Even though he turns around, Bucky doesn’t miss the way Steve’s hold gets so tight that his glass almost breaks.

Bucky doesn’t regret it. He had it coming when he thought you’d choose him.

#bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x agent!reader #bucky barnes x agent!femalereader #bucky barnes x reader smut #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #my stories #my fanfics #marvel fanfiction #marvel fanfic #sebastian stan #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x agent! female reader

[messylustt]

lazy eating — leon kennedy ( nsfw ). longer name. leon would eat you out for himself.

he’s impatient. especially when he gets home, eyes hooded. he doesn’t eat you out for your pleasure. only for his. he’ll just walk in, you with a pretty smile sat in your desk chair, greeting him. but leon’s already on his knees, pulling your legs apart as he doesn’t pay mind to your surprised hitch of breath. your pants and panties are already pulled away and tossed, before one of his hands are rested on your stomach to stop you from moving so much.

he doesn’t say a word as he harshly widens yours legs even more, leaning in, and licking straight up your already weeping pussy. no matter how much you squirm leon won’t be stopping, lapping at your cunt until all you can say is babbled murmurs. his body begins to relax the more he eats you out, lifting your legs to rest over his shoulders as he sucks and nibbles on your clit, making your thighs shake. leon doesn’t eat you out for your pleasure. he’s selfish when he’s tense.

so, when you’ve reached your first orgasm his tongue isn’t slowing, now beginning to thrust into your hole, as you try and breath through the overstimulation, pushing at his head to leave your poor cunt. “l — leon — i can’t — ” “jus’ stay quiet.” he murmurs lowly into your pussy as he pushes his head even further between your legs making your chest heave. one after the other. your orgasms never end, and your mind is mush. leon kisses your pussy lips, sucks on your clit and devours all of your arousal. and it’s all for his benefit alone.

© messylustt.tumblr please don’t steal, copy or translate my work onto other platforms.

#. ( pretty agent mark ) #ahhhhh I’m sorry #maybe im done now #the leon effect #glitter dose #leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy smut #leon smut #leon x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy x y/n #resident evil #re4 remake #re4 leon kennedy

[irndad]

won't you be my sunshine-a.h.

a/n: runner!hotch x sunshine!reader !! sooooo fluffy, first hotch fic of mine so be gentle with me! lots of pining and happy end <3 happy to continue with these two in an au!

Aaron Hotchner is not a particularly emotive man. 

This is a skill he has honed, a cherished quality that was not born of luck or of natural ability, but a skill that he has honed down to a fine tip point. He needs to be, in this job. It’s cost him things, of course, but for the most part, Aaron is happy with his choices. He takes a firm line with people he works with, and does not always let up in his personal life.

The only time this sometimes causes a hitch, is in his romantic life.

Which isn’t to say that he has one. 

There is a woman who reads in the park every morning. Aaron affectionately thinks of this bench as her bench, as it is marked by wisterias and hyacinths on either end of it. It’s something of a ritual, after his runs, that they talk. 

It’s fun. He doesn’t have a lot of space for fun. He’d collapsed on the bench one day after siphoning his anger at a particular case into a difficult run. He’d crashed onto the bench, sweaty and exhausted and hadn’t even seen her there. Which is a bit impressive, as she’s hard to miss the sight of. It is also in equal measure embarrassing. It’s not every day you collapse in front of a gorgeous woman, disturbing her from what is likely a lovely afternoon in the park.

That’s how it started, anyway. She doesn’t run, so each break is punctuated by her company. He’s actually not sure if they’re flirting. He’s not very good at that- the last time he has to he was 17 and so full of unearned confidence, he lucked into a partnership. 

Now, he’s a bit older and a lot more scarred. She’s younger than him, not by much. She laughs with her whole chest at his dry, glib humor- and this is something Aaron had forgotten. The joy of a beautiful, wonderful woman’s company beside you. 

He feels a little out of place next to her. Romance is not something he does. Ever thought he’d do again, really. That’s not to say that this is romance. Their romance is almost entirely hypothetical. He thinks of her at work, which is a monumental development in and of itself. 

“So, how was the paperwork? I know you’ve been taking a little more on since your colleague had a baby. It’s so kind of you to do it.” She asks him on a beautiful August morning. 

He fights off a blush that she remembers what he’s done for JJ. He’s not big on mentioning his own good deeds. Aaron believes that this would cancel it out. Still, her praise is a warm balm to the exhaustion that plagues him. It’s hedonistic, the way he wants her to say more about him. He wonders absentmindedly if she knew everything about him that’s hard to love, she’d still paint him with such a light and warm glance. She’s bright enough, he’s tempted to tell her everything about him just because she asks. 

“It was…alright. My team is excellent. I’m lucky to work with people like them, it makes the process better. I couldn’t ask for more.”

She giggles a little at this, and there’s that roar of affection. 

He feels a sense of ease around her, one that is suspicious for him. He tries not to romanticize, but this connection is hard not to. She’s beautiful- this is obvious to anyone who meets her, a simple truth of her. But Aaron is trained to notice things little factors that show the truth of someone. 

He likes to watch her- it’s a pleasant thing, getting to be in her presence. It’s a little addicting, the way she looks at him. It makes him feel like all of the things he knows to be true of himself- his relative failures, the closed-off nature of his demeanor- are things that not only can be overlooked, but don’t seem to be in her line of sight at all. It’s an honor, to have her doe eyes rake over the sight of him, to meet him with gentle conversation. 

He tries not to notice that she is gorgeous. Aaron has been around beautiful women, of course- this is not something that should surprise him. But there’s something effervescent about her, something that his him wondering if it’s possible that she might feel the same way about him. He knows that he used to be a more attractive man, but now. Well, he’s a bit bruised, both metaphorically and physically. 

It feels odd to even think of this happening. She’s just got a warm, sweet tone and he replays what it’s like when she greets him. She smiles her brilliant grin and sometimes hugs him. It’s embarrassing how much he likes the feeling of it- soft curves against hard muscle and scarred skin. She always smells wonderful, and he wonders how nice it would be to have more of this. 

“I like your new shirt, by the way.” She smiles at him, and his heart jumps. It feels juvenile, but- she’s wearing a new lipstick, it seems. Her beautiful pout looks awfully tempting. 

“I like the lip color,” he tries to compliment back amenably, but that doesn’t stick. Instead, it comes out too earnest. He’s hyper aware of the fact that she’s right by him. She flushes, and Aaron feels a surge of pride. 

“Thank you,” she says, voice softer and flattered, and isn’t that a pretty sound? He’d love to do that for her, make her feel seen, make her feel like she’s as beautiful as she is, “I thought you might like it.”

It’s her directiveness that breaks the seal, he supposes looking back. Because she wore the lipstick for him. That’s just about the only thing it can mean, and he is struck with a particularly sensory fantasy of what it would be like to slot his mouth against hers- he gets the feeling it might be worth it even if he gets the color on his mouth. 

He’s a gentleman, though, he decides after a decidedly ungentlemanly amount of time spend staring at the gorgeous curve of her lips. 

“Would you want to get dinner with me?” He hears himself say it before he’s processed it, and then it’s out into the world. His heart is hammering and he’s blaming on the run, when god, it’s absolutely about how breathtaking she looks, the sunlight reflecting off her hair like a halo. When she beams back at him, she looks particularly angelic. 

It’s then, she leans over and kisses him on the cheek. 

“I thought you’d never ask.”

(Months later, when she is sitting on his kitchen counter and he is standing between her legs, gazing down at her with unabated fondness because he is entitled to that, he reflects on this moment and thinks god, how lucky am I, that I ran past that bench?) 

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner one shot #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner oneshot #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner imagines #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner blurbs #aaron hotch hotchner #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotch imagine #aaron hotch fanfiction #aaron hotch x you #aaron hotch fluff #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotch fic #hotch #hotch x reader #hotch x you #aaron hotchner x bau!reader #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #ssa aaron hotchner #agent hotchner #criminal minds #criminal minds fic

[navybrat817]

" Scraping their teeth over your neck to have a shiver of arousal run down your spine. "

With Bucky. 🥺

This probably didn't go the way anyone wants, nonnie, and I'm sorry!

Give Me a Name

Pairing: Mob!Bucky Barnes x Agent!Female Reader Summary: Someone put their hands on you and Bucky can't let it go. Word Count: Over 1.1k Warnings: Tension, threat of violence (not against reader), very minor injury, pet names, possessive behavior, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?). A/N: Because who doesn't want a mob boss obsessed with them? ❤️ Edit by the talented @nixakimbo. Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Today was a not-so-friendly reminder that mistakes in your job weren’t so easy to fix. You had been in pursuit of a target for weeks and finally managed to catch him. The rookie agent, however, didn’t secure the cuffs and the bastard managed to get a hard hit in when he broke free. The dizziness from the blow was enough to let him get away.

The rookie went after him, but you knew he wouldn’t catch him. You’d have to start all over with tracking him and you didn’t even get a chance to go home to lick your wounds. Not when Bucky’s men showed up and put you in a car.

You should’ve known they were close by.

“I can walk!” You argued minutes later when they brought you to the Barnes mansion. The mob boss had a few homes, but this one had been in the family for years. He had invited you here before, but never took you by force.

Until today.

The men carefully arranged you on a leather sofa in the den before one of them went to get their boss. He hadn’t left the room before the door flew open, the very man he went to find standing there with a look thunderous enough to kill. He snatched something out of one of his soldier’s hands before he went to you, no one daring to speak a word.

You held your breath as you glanced at Bucky. He had the sleeves of his black shirt rolled up as he assessed you, the veins in his arms popped out as he clenched his fists. He was built like a soldier with his massive frame, his life story told in the tattoos and scars that adorned his covered skin. The notorious crime lord more than earned his reputation and he promised he’d tell you his story himself one day.

Today wouldn’t be that day.

He brushed some of his long hair from his eyes before crouching down beside you. He didn’t take his eyes off you as he dabbed at your cheek with the cloth. He stopped when you winced, but you gave him a small smile to let him know he could continue. You didn’t expect tenderness from such a rough man, but you were different to him, weren’t you? You had been since the two of you crossed paths some time ago. Why?

What made you so special?

“Who did this to you?” He asked in a low voice. You could hear that he tried to keep the raging storm inside of him, but his icy eyes showed you everything. The growing fury was bound to come out. Who would he destroy in his path to sate the beast?

“Bucky. I’m fine,” you croaked as you tried to sit up more, but he stopped you from moving. “The guy got lucky and it isn’t anything I haven’t faced before. Just let me get back to work,” you said.

You noticed most of the men nearby avoided eye contact when you looked around. They had every reason to be afraid. James Buchanan Barnes was downright terrifying when crossed.

And crossing you was a worse offense in his eyes.

“Give me a name,” Bucky demanded, though he didn't raise his voice. “Tell me his fucking name so I can take care of it.”

“I can’t,” you whispered. If you did, he’d kill him. No, he’d torture him first. Likely for days on end before he begged for death. And you needed him alive.

That was your job.

Yet, you could never find it in yourself to bring Bucky in.

“Don’t make me shoot you.”

You froze at the cold tone before you realized Bucky didn’t direct that statement at you. One of his men standing feet away turned his head to the side because he got caught staring. You should’ve known better. Whatever cat and mouse game you and the mob boss were playing, it was for him to catch you in his trap, but never hurt you.

Not when he wanted to keep you.

“I’m sorry, boss,” the man promised, his tone wavering when Bucky reached for one of his pistols. “I-”

“‘Cause I’ll do it in a heartbeat and never look back if you glance at her again,” he promised. He was a man of his word. “Leave us. All of you. Now.”

“Bucky, it’s okay,” you assured him as they filed out. The men were dangerous, but you weren’t about to let him shoot the poor guy for looking your way.

“It isn't okay. Someone put their hands on you,” he nearly growled, the soft touch to your cheek a stark contrast to his voice. “You think I can let that go? I can’t. I won’t.”

You brought a hand up to tuck a few strands of his hair behind his ear. His eyes shut for a moment and grabbed your wrist before you could pull away. He dragged your fingers through the short beard along his jaw, like he was starved of your touch and needed more. You didn’t want to admit how much you wanted him.

Not when you belonged in different worlds.

“You don’t have to ‘avenge’ me, Bucky, because I’m not yours,” you said carefully. Were you telling him for his sake or yours? “Let it go. Please.”

The storm continued to rage in his eyes when he opened them and you wondered who would win the battle of the wills. You held your breath again when he moved close, the scent of his woodsy cologne making your head spin. Instead of brushing his lips against yours, he brought his mouth to your neck. Scraping his teeth over your pulse, you couldn’t stop the shiver of arousal that moved down your spine.

“You are mine, Kisa,” he whispered, giving your neck another nip as you tried not to whimper. “And I’m going to find out who did this whether you tell me or not. And I’m going to kill him.”

Your heart shouldn’t have raced faster at his declaration. “If I tell you, will you let me go home?”

“You are home,” he replied, pulling away and looking into your eyes so you could see how serious he was. “And I’d feel a lot better if you got some rest in my bedroom.”

You shuddered because you both knew you wouldn’t get a wink of rest if he took you to bed. And if you slept with him, there would be no turning back. “You can’t keep me prisoner here, Winter.”

The cold and ruthless man who only wanted you.

“You’re not my prisoner, Kisa,” he said, pressing his lips softly to your pained cheek. “But I’m never letting you go.”

He’d prove that to you.

I don't know about you lovelies, but I kind of love them. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

#navybrat writes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x female!reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x fem!reader #bucky barnes x f!reader #mob!bucky barnes x reader #mob!bucky barnes x agent!reader #winter and kisa #bucky barnes #mob!bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky x female reader #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fan fic #bucky barnes fan fiction #bucky fic #james buchanan barnes #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x female reader #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan

[forbidden-sunlight]

yandere! literary agent with fem!reader scenario

warnings: implication of obsessive thoughts or love.

There might be potential triggers in this story. If you do not feel comfortable venturing any further, please hit the 'back' button on your mobile device or computer and read something much more pleasant.

You are responsible for your Internet consumption!

Hey guys, welcome back to another yandere fic, introducing Yulian Prescott. I'd like to give a big shout-out to my dear friend @deathmetalunicorn1 for helping me write this and finding the perfect likeness for my character, especially when this idea came to me all of a sudden on a Sunday night when I should be sleeping instead of staying up an ungodly hour.

As always, bullying on here will not be tolerated. If it does happen, this scenario will be taken down. I'm not sure if this will be a series. At the moment, this is just a scenario.

With that being said, sit back, relax, and let's dive into the cutthroat world of publishing.

PART TWO

Yandere!Literary Agent is a man who prides himself on being very good at his job. He represented one of the best publishing houses in the country. Anything less than what he expected from his clients was unacceptable.  

If the manuscript arrived in his inbox exactly two minutes past the promised deadline, he would not look at it. If his client is acting like a stupid moron at a function or royally fucking up their reputation by posting something inappropriate on their social media account, he is not cleaning up their mess. He is not their babysitter. They are full-grown adults. And if one of them is not able to produce another book that will actually sell past the number of copies slated to be printed, he will let them go. Call him cruel if you want. Yandere!Literary Agent is simply being pragmatic. He wasn’t cheap. He only wants the best of the best.

So imagine Yandere!Literary Agent’s surprise when a particularly difficult client sent him a completed manuscript. He planned on writing her an email that after much deliberation, it was time for her to find another agent to represent her. The client, Abigail Crowley, had written an adult dark academia trilogy and a feminist retelling of the myth of Theseus, told from the perspective of his lover Adriane. The manuscripts following the conclusion of her last book, however, were complete shit. Her royalties were nearly gone, having squandered them on a penthouse in a high-end neighborhood, the latest clothes, and a wine fridge. You heard him. A fucking wine fridge when she could have replaced that shoddy laptop of hers with something better so she could keep writing books and not have it crap out on her. 

Half-amused and half-annoyed at this pathetic attempt to keep her contract with the publishing company from being null and void, Yandere!Literary Agent clicked on the attachment and read it. One page became four, then fifty. He had to force himself to stop when it was lunchtime and he was already at the mid-way point. 

This story, it was…good. No, it was more than good. It was absolutely fantastic. And Yandere!Literary Agent did not compliment his clients’ works very often, which meant he believed at this very moment, this manuscript will most definitely become Abigail’s comeback to the literary industry. Book sales would go through the roof, A Netflix deal was also possible. But the first hurdle he had to overcome was pitching the manuscript, and making sure the query letter was at least consistent with the story that Abigail was trying to sell to him.

And he’ll make it happen. He is very good at his job, after all. 

Once he had successfully pitched it with a bit of extra charm, he contacted Abigail. She was over the moon, promising to make any necessary edits to the manuscript and it will be sent to him on time. From there, time fast forwarded. ARC books were sent out, Abigail selected the cover designs for the regular and special editions, and a tentative book tour was scheduled. Seven cities, and one international trip, maybe another in the future. Sales for this book were projected to exceed expectations. Yandere!Literary Agent was very confident things would go smoothly from here. At least he had thought so.

A month before the book was to be published, his secretary knocked on his door and said he had a visitor. They insisted on seeing him. Yandere!Literary Agent raised his brow, rising from his desk and stepping out into the hall and saw you. 

In the beginning, he will begrudgingly confess that his first impression of you was someone who is painfully average and out of place. A backpack slung over your shoulder, dressed in navy blue medical scrubs and looking absolutely haggard. Your eyes, though, shined with anxiety and determination. You inclined your head. 

“I apologize for the sudden intrusion, I know you’re busy, but I have some concerns about the book that’s going to be released soon by Abigail Crowley.” 

Yandere! Literary Agent’s gaze sharpened.. “And what, pray tell, are your complaints?” He crossed his arms. “Are you one of the people who had signed up to be ARC reader and didn’t get their copy?” 

You raised an eyebrow. “...No?”

“Then why -”

“Because it is my novel that is being published. Without my consent.” You sighed, running a hand through your hair. “Look, I know it is hard to believe, I get it.” You then swung your backpack around to your front, unzipping the larger compartment. You pulled out a large notebook, some papers, and a flash drive. You held them out to him. “But I think what I have here might convince you to allow me ten minutes, if not five, to hear me out. That’s all I’m asking. This isn’t about money, this isn’t about suing your company. I just want my story back. I’ve already tried talking to Abigail about it, and she isn’t picking up my calls. Please.” You said. “Three minutes.” 

His schedule was clear until the two o’clock meeting with another client on the other side of town. That was about an hour and half from now, as he had just come back from lunch. He supposed he could give you three minutes. Rolling his eyes, Yandere!Literary Editor swiveled on his heel. 

“Let’s see what you have. Melissa, please hold my calls until I’m done.” His diligent secretary nodded and went back to her desk. You followed him like a lost little duckling back to his office. Once the door was closed, you handed him everything. 

Yandere!Literary Editor went over the materials carefully, flipping through the pages of the notebook. The outlines and character designs were here, all written in excruciating detail and in such tiny print. He asked you random questions, going off of his memory from the manuscript and these notes. You answered him without hesitation.

“Yes, that’s correct. What? No, absolutely not. I would never have those characters be romantically paired up! Their relationship is too toxic, and wouldn’t set a good example to the target audience. I’m sorry, what? No, that isn’t her name! It’s Cristabel, not Anastasia! She’s supposed to be assisting the Night Emperor with collecting intelligence via the gossip of salons under her alias, not swooning over his brother when he’s already happily married to his wife! Good God, no. That scene should not even be there! That’s filler content and makes the character growth of the protagonist seem like the pay-off wasn’t worth it, or that he didn’t learn anything at all since the beginning of the book!” 

Yandere!Literary Agent grounded the molars of his back teeth, inhaling slow, deep breaths through his nostrils. Keeping his emotions in check is one of the reasons why he has survived in the publishing industry for this long, and he’s such a successful man. 

But hearing you speak about the characters, perfectly recalling the manuscript’s themes and looking back at the notebook in his hand, seeing the colorful  sticky notes with edits and improvised scenes written on them…he couldn’t deny it any further. You were the real author of the book he’s representing, and Abigail Crowley played him like a goddamned fiddle.

 If this wasn’t enough damning evidence of his client’s plagiarism, you had shown him an original illustration of the world you had created. It was done by an artist you had commissioned on Etsy, with proof of purchase for their services and a timestamp. Three years ago. That was when Abigail’s last best-selling book hit the shelves, and when her creative well began to dry out. 

You must have caught on to his irritation, because you told him that you weren’t here to intentionally stir up any trouble. A coworker had told you about Abigail’s newest book coming out, and the premise was exactly yours, at least what was advertised in the BookTok and Youtube trailers online. You’ve been searching high and low for your manuscript, and the only other person who has been in your apartment and knew about your creative endeavors has been Abigail. She wasn’t really your friend, per say. You took some of the same creative writing courses. You eventually found another career to pursue, and you kept writing as a hobby. She went on to become a professional author and never missed an opportunity to show off her success whenever she invited you out for drinks at an upscale bar or went to fancy dinners. 

Why would Abigail steal the book you’ve been working on for three years when you work a full-time day job, you had no idea. She’s living the dream that she’s always wanted, defying her mother’s wishes to get a normal job because writing is everything to her, and she would never give up on it. But if you were to be hypothetical, it might be another attempt to somehow get one up on her self-proclaimed rival, Cindy Chen, who is an even bigger success than her. 

You then rubbed your eyes. “Sorry, it’s been a long day.” You murmured, standing up from your seat. “Keep the notebook, the maps, whatever you want. If you could return them to me when you’re done, that’s all I ask. And an apology from Abigail, if you’re able to get one out of her. Like I said, this isn’t about money, royalties, or fame. I just want my story back.” 

Yandere!Literary Agent immediately stood up, his eyes slightly widened in fear. “Wait, please, just a moment! I know you’re tired, you want to go home…but I need to set things right. If I had known that this manuscript, your story, had been stolen, I would have never spearheaded its  publication.” And he wouldn’t have. Not only would it affect his reputation, but the company’s too. Stocks would plummet, and there would be a feeding frenzy on social media with #abigailcrowley, #plagiarism, #sailboatpublishinghouse. 

When you looked at him, his heart lurched uncomfortably at seeing your lips fall into a crestfallen expression. You looked so tired, so done with everything, and oh god you looked like you were about to cry shit. Walking around his desk, Yandere!Literary Agent eased you to sit back down and quickly prepared an espresso, possessing a machine to make it in his office so he did not have to walk down five flights to the break room. 

You thanked him for the drink and took a sip, wrinkling your nose slightly, no doubt surprised at the taste. You must not be a regular espresso drinker, or prefer how you made it. Either way, he was grateful that you did not bolt out of the office. Picking up his office phone, he dialed Melissa’s number. 

“Call all of the heads, including the marketing and social media departments. This is an emergency meeting. Now!” Bless Melissa, she did not ask him questions and said she would get on it immediately, hanging up on him. The next person he called was Abigail fucking Crowley. He sweet-talked her into coming to the office, apologizing for interrupting her ‘creativity time’ and promised it won’t take long. She swore to be there in a half an hour, so long as traffic didn’t back up. Yandere!Literary Agent played the understanding card and hung up, his smile being replaced with a smirk. Hook, line, and sinker. He scoffed. He then turned to you. 

“Everything will be resolved soon.” He promised. 

“Sir -” You began. 

“Yulian, please.” 

“Mister Yulian, I understand that you want to make things right, but…can you really get Abigail to talk? She blocked my calls, and the book is hitting the shelves in a month, maybe less than that? How are you going to recover the money that has gone into getting it published, the fees for the printing companies, and the marketing? Correct me if I’m wrong, I’m not too familiar with how publishing works these days.” 

You weren’t wrong, at least in the aspect that the company has put a significant amount of money into the publication of the stolen manuscript, your work, he added mentally. It was too late to stop the printing, and the final draft would need a significant amount of changes. Unless…

“Abigail is a plagiarist, and you are the rightful creator. The way I see it, we can salvage the financial loss by putting your name on the cover, and fixing the glaring omissions as well as other scenes you claim shouldn’t even be there.” He sighed, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “Of course, we would need to have a press conference and explain why we are changing authors, and what she has done. Considering the timetable and coordinating with the printing companies, it will be cutting it close.” 

You stared at him silently for a long moment before placing the espresso cup back onto the tiny saucer with a soft clink, releasing a heavy sigh. “If I agree to do this, to help with the edits, probably fuck up my sleeping pattern and might potentially be fired from my job unless I can use some of my PTO, what will I get in return?” 

He smiled. “Abigail will be the one to pay for publishing and marketing fees. I can extend the deadline for the revisions by a week. And you will be paid for your time, of course. There will be no need to come here to drop off revisions either. All correspondence will be through email. As an agent, I am qualified to be your representative during press conferences, so you will not have to be present. All I would ask of you is to turn in the final manuscript on time and not say anything on social media until our legal team is fully prepared.”

“No need to worry about Twitter or Facebook. Haven’t logged  on to my account in years.” You raised the espresso cup to your lips. “Too much politics.” You tilted your head to the side, a puzzled frown stretching across your face. “Any chance I could get all of this in writing? I might need to get a lawyer if Abigail tries to take it to court and sue me for defamation.” 

Yandere!Literary Agent nodded. He opened up a blank document and immediately typed up the contract, including everything that you have discussed and a few other variables. Once he finished, he printed it out, handing it to you. You read through the contents carefully before handing it back to him.

“It looks good - it’s all here and I’m agreeable to the terms.” You said.

Humming under his breath, Yandere! Literary Agent signed the bottom. You signed your name next to his, with today’s date and the time. 

He ignored the tiny tingle that crawled up his spine when your fingertips brushed against his as you gave him back the pen. You agreed to stay until the matter with Abigail was over, and he would email you the manuscript so you could go through everything when you get home. 

As it turned out, you did not have to wait much longer for the best-selling author to make her entrance at Board Room 3. Exchanging numbers with Yandere! Literary Agent you would wait in the adjacent room until he sent you a text to make your entrance. Melissa escorted you to said room when he received a message from Abigail that she would be here in ten minutes. 

It’s time. That was the message he sent you. When you opened the door, revealing yourself to the staff and the flustered Abigail…she snapped. 

She rambled how she needed a book, just one more successful book, and she would be set for life. She wouldn’t lose her penthouse, she would still be considered a worthy rival to Cindy Chen, and above all else, she could still write as she had always wanted to do since she was a teenager. You already had a normal job, you had a steady income, you weren’t even a writer. Being a hobbyist writer did not count. Yes, she took your manuscript, but it wasn’t a big deal! You could just write another book when you had time between shifts at the hospital, right? 

The look you gave her…it was resignation. Hopelessness. Disappointment. 

“Abbie…it wasn’t just a story I wrote. You should know that. Writing is so much more than that. I’ve tried to be nice, to talk to you but you wouldn’t listen. I’m sorry it’s come to this, I really am.” You said. That was the last thing you said before you were escorted outside of the door. Seeing your part in this is over, Yandere! Literary Agent took control of the room. 

“Whether it is a hobby or professional writing, it doesn’t change the fact that you stole someone’s work and tried to pass it off as your own.” He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “You are a thief, nothing more and nothing less.” Then the lawyers approached Abigail, presenting her with the fees she will need to pay. If there was an issue, going to court would not be an issue as he had all of the evidence needed to ruin the once best-selling writer Abigail Crowley. 

Her reaction was….amusing. 

After security had escorted the screaming woman off of the premises, Yandere!Literary Agent went to search for you, thinking you had gone back to his office to wait for him. You weren’t there. Melissa said you did stop by her desk, only to leave a message on a sticky note that you needed to go home but promised to get the revisions done as fast as you could, and thanks for the espresso it was really good. 

Yandere!Literary Agent smiled softly at the hastily written chicken scratch, pocketing it in his trousers before going back inside his office. You weren’t like any of his other clients. And he would like to get to know a bit more. Who knows? Perhaps….he could persuade you to sign a contract with him, be your agent. You shouldn’t hide your talents from the world. There were people who would love to read your stories, and he had no doubt that the company would benefit from it too. 

But there was no need to rush. There was a month until the book was to be released. That was more than enough time for him to work his magic. He is good at his job, after all. 

Taglist

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©️do not repost or use any of the characters depicted here without the author’s permission. forbidden-sunlight, 2024

#forbidden-sunlight #yandere x reader #yandere male #yandere #yandere oc #yandere oc x reader #male yandere x reader #yandere x you #fem!reader #yandere! literary agent #yandere fanfiction #yandere manhwa x reader #ns.fw #tw obsessive love #tw obsessive behavior

[wonryllis]

✶ 𝟭𝟳𝟳𝟱 (𝓥 ) SATAN'S IMAGINATION, AGENT ENHYPEN.

. . ──𝖺𝗅𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗇𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗏𝖾𝗅𝗒, 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗒 𝗀𝗈𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗁𝗈𝗍𝗌 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗂𝗋 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝗄 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗍𝗇𝖾𝗋.

﹙ 𝒘𝐞𝐛 ⭑ 𝒅𝐞𝐭𝐚𝐢𝓁𝓈. ﹚ agent!enhypen hanging on that line between act and reality with AGENT!fem!r. fluff, suggestive. wordcount`1261. アーカイブ ARCHIVE?

PLS REBLOG!!!!

𝐋𝐄𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆 he feels his breath caught in a dangerously thin line between staying professional and kissing the hell out of you, your body pressed against him between the narrow shelves. he's probably at fault for blowing your cover earlier but all he can think about right now is the way the light through the windows make your glossed lips glow and your messy hair look sensual. each inhale and exhale a battle against his self-control. "do you think they noticed?" your voice sounds more tempting than ever in the low whisper you let out against his chest and heeseung swears he's fighting demons right now. "i hope not," he sighs heavy, feeling himself leaning into you, getting carried away as his conscience slowly slips and cracks. lips almost brushing when you suddenly look up, wide eyes boring into his,"i think they just walked past," unaware and painfully oblivious of what your partner was about to do to you. of how he was ready to devour you.

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐉𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐒𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐆 with the biggest lovesick smile ever, jay watches you act coy in your character, gently excusing yourself to the washroom. "act like you want me, but more like you love me," your soft words tingle his ear as you discreetly whisper to him just before you leave the dinner table. are you dense or are you just too professional? there is no way you think the look on his face isn't already giving away his feelings to all these people around the table you're supposed to fool. he chuckles deep and smitten as he stands seconds after,"i apologize gentlemen, but my love needs my help," excusing himself as well. with each step he takes towards you, he realizes the wicked idea you have in your wicked little brain. his heart skipping beats and blood rushing everywhere when you throw yourself at him, dragging him to bathroom with your lips hovering over his making sure the targeted people get a glimpse of it and get the wrong idea.

𝐒𝐈𝐌 𝐉𝐀𝐄𝐘𝐔𝐍 jake grins wider as your palm presses flat against his chest first and then fingers curl to mimic a gun, your tips emulating a spark of electricity through his veins, feeling the blood pump harder in his heart. "you better not take advantage of our cover to steal kisses, sim," it is crazy how he feels disappointed yet amused at the same time, you doing this right now is the hottest thing ever but you refusing to let him kiss you later is a tad bit upsetting plus you knowing he loves to do that has him dazed. "can't promis—" his breath gets knocked out mid sentence as you grab him by his tie and smash your lips together in a sloppy and short kiss. "that's is all you can have for the night, focus on the mission agent three," now that was hotter than the hottest thing you could have ever done to him, and you decide to do it right before work. oh how he wishes he had kissed back harder and show you just what you'd be missing out on later.

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐍 his eyes scan across your rather overly feminine dressed figure amble over to him, stance seductive and alluring in the red cocktail gown he helped you pick hours ago. "that was disgusting," he says as soon as you stop beside him. he was glad the mission was successful and he was so glad he picked this dress for you. feeling a sense of pride that he has always been the first one to see you dolled up and that he has always been your date and that he has always been gotten to take you home at the end of night. the only thing he feels jealous about right now is that while he has always been all that, it has always been the targets who get to feel you all up and who get to see your siren side showing them how it would be if you were interested in them. "well it wasn't for you anyway, mr hotshot," you bite back and sunghoon almost breaks on the verge of exposing that he'd die for it to him, for you to seduce the heck out of him.

𝐊𝐈𝐌 𝐒𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐖𝐎𝐎 the hawk-like focus sunoo had on you seemed so normal to you both, you didn't even realize when it turned into something possesive and unfitting for agents just working together. perhaps it was for the reason that you two had been paired up together for couple missions, or perhaps it was because you both trained together everyday. there was this sense of belonging you had developed, unaware of how it was changing things in your work dynamics. "your gaze is so fake, come on baby i know you can give a more sultry one, remember our practice?" sunoo speaks through the in-ears, his eyes locked with yours across the other end of the vip club, watching you try to seduce the target. the sparkle of tension crackling in the air as you held the eye contact, sunoo's ego blasting at the back of his mind knowing he's the only one who's seen the real thing. "just imagine it's me, and finish it up so you can actually come back to me,"

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐉𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐖𝐎𝐍 his gaze is envious and bitter, feeling his blood boil over the revelation you just made. "so you know him well?" the tone being one of grudge and spite, he continues to watch you strap on the weapons around you body. places under your dress where one would probably not have the chance to touch, unless it's him. which amplifies his jealousy to a staggering height at the realization that the target you are chasing this time probably has touched you in those places before. maybe even more than he has. the dismissive nod you respond with, makes jungwon's impatience fly through the roof, walking closer to trap you against the table where the weapons laid. "better than me?" the air thickens with implication of his words, jungwon himself is unaware what the undertone of it means. if it's how well you know him or if it's something entirely different, something that makes him want to leave kisses down your neck like he did the last time.

𝐍𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐌𝐔𝐑𝐀 𝐑𝐈𝐊𝐈 his breath is laboured as he helps you rush out the pool, your fancy dress drenched and heavy weighing you down more than he'd anticipated. quickly you both find a spot in the showers to hide, squeezing into a single booth. he's brisk and sharp, giving you a hand in stepping out your wet dress into the latex suit underneath. letting you put your weight on him, your hands holding onto his body while you undo the strings and sleeves. the possibilities of getting caught are on high alert yet riki can't find it in him to focus on anything besides you. the way you look so hot in your agent attire, your hair wet and sticking to the sides of your face making you appear so cute in contrast to you getting ready to fight men a step outside the door. he has always found it so attractive, and the thought of admitting it openly just makes him more dazed. his fingers reach out to push away the strands around your eyes and lips, thumb brushing a second longer on your lips, "i really wanna kiss you right now," he whispers into your ears, lips grazing against it softly.

taglist ( open. ) @kangseulgithegreat @s00buwu @lilyuwon @pockyyasii @nctislifue @ashtxrie @miniature-tragedy @jayujus @brachives @thoughtsmeander2tumblingblindly @eeunoia @nxzz-skz @shawnyle @potato0579 @enhastolemyheart @belowbun @ro-diaries

#enhypen imagines #HELP IDK IF THIS IS AGENT ENOUGH BUT I HOPE YALL LIKE IT!! #k-labels #enhypen fluff #enhypen reactions #enhypen headcanons #enhypen soft hours #enhypen soft thoughts #enhypen scenarios #enhypen hard hours #enhypen hard thoughts #enhypen heeseung imagines #enhypen jake imagines #enhypen drabbles #enhypen jay imagines #enhypen sunghoon imagines #enhypen sunoo imagines #enhypen jungwon imagines #enhypen niki imagines #enhypen x you #enhypen x female reader #enhypen x y/n #enhypen x reader

[anika-ann]

Back and Forth - part 1

Part 1 - Snap Back

Type: series; agent!reader, inhuman!reader

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader    Word Count: 7400

Chapter summary: 

In which the mission goes to hell and you and Steve clash. Again.

Series masterlist

Warnings: blood, canon-typical violence, mention of gunshot wounds, hints of unhealthy relationship to pain, mention of death, some angst

A/N: ALWAYS MIND THE WARNINGS; dividers by @firefly-graphics 💕; moodboard is for the vibes and does not necessarily reflect reader’s appearance

Steve Rogers was a very large man. Over two hundred pounds of muscle, over six feet three tall, he towered and loomed and hovered above everything and everyone. And yet, his body seemed too small to contain the huge ball of righteous anger, too small to contain the magnitude of the jerk he was being at the moment.

It must have been one of his greatest talents.

And you understood. You understood why he was pacing around, his face the perfect storm with lightning flashing from his eyes, his voice thundering; the mission was a failure, fire and destruction left behind without the important data retrieved. Hell, you understood a little too well how much of that was your fault therefore he had every right to be angry with you.

And yet. Yet, you couldn’t comprehend how that supposedly righteous man spitted around words full of rage when he was to blame himself too.

He was the one to pull you out. He was the one to shake you and break your concentration before your spectre, able to waltz behind locked doors without a key, could deliver the drive to another agent. He was the one to make you snap back, your astral projection dissipating.

Yes, your spectre had been barely walking. Yes, it had got shot in the gut and you really damn felt it. Yes, you – it, really – had been hanging on a tread, with you already at peace with the fact that once you’d snap back, you’d wake up in a hospital bed, because your body wouldn’t handle the strain. Yes, maybe you would have failed anyway, snapping back before you could do what you were supposed to. But now you’d never know, would you?

Because Steven Grant Rogers, Mr. Captain America with the ego of the size of his very moniker, couldn’t have handled you straying from his explicit order to get out earlier.

You were still shaky on your feet, barely having beaten your dizziness and having been walking the fine line of consciousness for way too long, hurting like hell the whole time, but good god, did you have the energy to fight that blonde disaster screaming you down. Especially since he was doing so in front of everyone as you remained seated on the stretcher and kept pulling at the i.v. with custom-made saline to get it from your arm and make the situation at least a bit less humiliating for you.

The audacity. The audacity it had to take for him to call you reckless and scold you for not disappearing faster despite the fact there had been another set of files that caught you eye and needed to be copied. His utter confidence that his plan was as flawless as the first kiss in the early era Taylor Swift songs; confidence that you would have got out safely and the Hydra agent would have never caught you off guard if you just listened to your Captain.

Well fuck your Captain.

You knew you were a failure. You knew that in the end, you were to blame for not getting the intel out in time before the base blown up, the flash drive lying somewhere in the corridor abandoned. Tony Stark might like to tell you that with your abilities defied the basic laws of physics, namely the law of conservation of matter and energy, but you didn’t defy them that much. You couldn’t carry things back by simply grabbing them as the spectre and snapping back to your real body; you had tried countless times, but that wasn’t how things worked, even if you wanted them to – and surely Captain Rogers did as well.

But he was the one to make you snap back. And he was able to do that, because despite the poorly masked hate he appeared to feel towards you at times, he still often made the strategic decision to be the one protecting your actual body; your paraconscious, softly levitating body, completely vulnerable to an attack. Apparently, he was the only one who could be trusted to do it after all.

Whoever called him a golden boy and actually meant it had to be an idiot.  

“You should have let me do it! I would have been able to get it to Lincoln or someone else!” you argued, hands pushing at the stretcher to stand up at last, wincing at the ghost of a sharp pain tearing at your abdomen. Never mind that, that was nothing new – Rogers’ unsolicited attack and complete lack of accountability were.

He only scoffed at your argument, crossing his arms on his stupidly wide chest. The bragger. The impossible cannot-do-wrong arse-

“Would you? You were going to pass out! I know the signs by now-”

“So what?!”

“So what?!” he echoed on full volume, throwing his arm out just as wildly as the whole tantrum. “I carried you out of there because you couldn’t walk!”

How dared he-

“Oh, I’m sorry,” you feigned regret, lowering your voice as you finally managed to rise to your feet. “I must have been such a terrible imposition to your superstrength!”

“That’s not the problem and you know it!”

Then what was his problem, you wanted to ask, but you knew that question was futile. You knew the answer already and it was annoyingly fitting to a considerably newer Talor Swift song: it was you. You were the problem he had. And the even bigger problem was that he couldn’t have you delivered back express to Coulson, because lately it seemed this team needed someone with the ability to project more than the new SHIELD did. He was stuck with you; with your apparently incapable ass.

“Do I?!” you questioned. “Well, I’m sorry I couldn’t just walk off a massive blood loss!”

Rogers winced as you spitted out the words; good. Maybe he’d think twice before yelling at you next time when the Quinjet hadn’t even touched the ground yet and everyone could watch your failure in HD since he served it to them on a silver platter.

You winced too as you breathed in deeply and fresh claws of pain dug into your abdomen again; really not good. But not unusual, even as there was no trace of the bullet wound on your body – because it wasn’t your actual body that got hit, not really. Still, the pain remained.

Yet, that was nothing to stop you from staring at Rogers as he glared at you with hard eyes, leaning forward, jaw so damn tense you might cut yourself on the tendons if you touched it.  

“You wouldn’t have suffered-- that if you’d have just followed orders!”

“Oh really?! Get over yourself, oh Mighty Captain!”

“Get over-” he repeated as if he couldn’t comprehend you just said that, breathing in deeply to ground himself and failing spectacularly since his voice was still full of accusation. “You should have brought us intel and instead we have nothing!”

You stepped forward to get your retort across almost as quickly as you felt everything in you recoil in guilt – because Rogers was right. Of course, he was right. And you knew that. You wanted to scream and cry and throw up and take a damn nap or maybe just wake up from this fucked up dream but you couldn’t, could you?

You could barely do anything.

“Well, I’m sorry! Okay?! I couldn’t do it and I’m fucking sorry! I know I fucked up! I should have pushed through more, I know, and you have no idea how pissed I am at me! But maybe I would have been just fine, if--- you shouldn’t have stopped me!”

“I wouldn’t have to snap you back if you just did what you were supposed to do!”

You grinded your teeth. Stupid, big-headed pig-headed supersoldier, if he had had any idea-

“What were you going to say just now?” he demanded, standing even taller than before, the mask of anger and disappointment shifting towards challenge.

Fight me. Yell back. Try telling me I’m wrong, when you know I’m not.

Goddamn him. He was so damn self-assured, so overconfident it would get him killed one day and you’d be there to watch like a useless dumbass, because you couldn’t do the one thing every single agent on this team should do: have your teammates’ back.

But you couldn’t tell him that. You couldn’t.

Your shoulders sagged, exhaustion washing over you.

“Doesn’t matter,” you said, minding your volume even as most Avengers and other agents got the memo and tried to give you as much privacy as possible. Bless that useless gesture. “I told you, I’m sorry. I know I need to learn to push myself more despite the pain when the stakes are high, but it’s…” You caught a flash of a new emotion you couldn’t decipher in his eyes and you looked away, scoffing, frustration flaring up again. “Why am I even telling you, what would you know about that, huh?”

What would the perfectly mighty walk-it-off Captain know about you peasants and your struggles. Ziltch. He was perfection personified, never wrong, never weak, never-

The sharp intake of breath had you snap your gaze back – and your heart stumbled in your chest. One brief glance at him and you regretted your words instantly. For one, you were too well-aware of the fact that they were bullshit. For two, you might as well wave a red cloth in front of an already enraged bull.

Steve Rogers bristled, teeth practically bared like those of an animal; he snarled like one too, but it was the tone that had cut you. The tone said so much more than his actual words and that message was like a muleta for you for a change.

“Is that what you think? You think I don’t feel pain?!”

“Maybe you don’t feel anything at all!” you snapped, throwing your arms up, gritting your teeth and closing your fists at the sharp bite at your belly at the movement. For fuck’s sake- “It sure as hell looks like it to me, to everyone! Especially since you’re yelling at me right now! I know I fucked up but it’s not easy on me either!”

The realization that he was acting like an asshole must have been quick – he froze for but a split second – but the fact he cared little for that was even faster, his counterattack coming in hot.

“Well, allow me to correct you, agent, I do feel pain – and I don’t have the luxury to switch it off when I snap back into my real body because I only have one!”

And you laughed. The burst of sardonic laugh tasted like hysteria on your tongue, actual tears burning in your eyes.

Switch it off. Switch it off as you pleased. God, that was funny. That was hilarious. So hilarious you wanted to cry. You pretended that the palm that you lifted to your face was to muffle the laughter and not to check whether some of your tears didn’t escape.

“Ooooh, ohohohooo, you think being me is so great, don’t you? Walk a mile in my shoes, Captain, we’ll see how you’ll like it!” you spat, laughing again. “But I’m sure you wouldn’t only walk, would you? You’d fucking dance en pointe and throw in a few grands jetés en tournant just for the kicks, huh? Because you are Mr.Perfect!”

Despite your challenging words, his demeanour changed in as if you snapped your fingers and the reason for that had your chest tighten in panic.

He noticed the tears. You could tell because he blinked, eyes suddenly roaming your face, his voice falling so quiet you barely heard it all of sudden; but perhaps that was only due to the ringing in your ears, the pulsing in your temples.

“That’s not--- I didn’t mean to--“

You cared shit about what he meant or didn’t mean at the moment. He saw you weak. Again. Not only you had failed, hadn’t handled the mission physically, now you were falling apart mentally right in front of him.

He was going to bench you. Worse, he was going to send you express to Coulson despite needing someone with your abilities and he would never ask you to join the Avengers again.

Fight. Show him you have the fire. Show him you’ve got what it takes. Don’t let him think you gave up.

“Well guess what, Captain, I feel pain too and I don’t have the luxury to heal in a few seconds!”

“I don’t heal that-“ he objected lowly and that was the last drop. The last drop and you cracked.

“I KNOW, okay?! You heal faster than anyone, but you still need to heal, because you can get hurt and you can get killed!” His eyes went wide and you gulped; he heard your voice break. Fuck. “Even if you don’t act like it, because you’re the mighty Captain, after all-“ you added quickly to divert his attention.

And the distraction worked. Too bad it didn’t work for you, words still spilling since the dam had been broken.

“Would you stop calling me-“

“Not all of us can be perfect soldiers, the ultimate heroes! Not all of us can do what you do, just push through everything! We fail, we hurt and we barely survive only to disappoint people like you!” you cried out.

It was the line about disappointment, you were certain – something in his expression shifted again and this time, all fight left your body for good, something inside you breaking. The new emotion on his face almost looked like compassion and you didn’t need that. You didn’t need the demigod amongst men and women to pity you and feel for you, especially not now. Not now when you didn’t deserve it because he was right and now this? You hadn’t been fast enough and strong enough – and he might have scolded you for in front of everyone, but now it seemed as if he regretted that because he needed to be the bigger person just to be fucking more perfect and you couldn’t bear it. You never could.

There was a reason why you always jumped to defence when he showed disappointment in you.

Your voice came out as but a whisper, but you made sure it was firm one. “I failed. I disappointed you and everyone else, I know. I’m sorry. I shall accept the punishment as you see fit even if that doesn’t make up for my failure.”

Nor blind nor deaf, Steve’s demeanour changed too; his eyes were suddenly as kind as his words and that was the worst part.

“I have no doubt you tried your best, Spectre, and that’s all we can ever do. The only punishment which will come is one for not following orders.”

You couldn’t help it. You should have, since you were already in such a mess, most of it of your own making, but hearing him utter those words, him of all people. The irony. You scoffed.

And like a charm, all of his benevolence evaporated in an instant; his back straightened, head held high.

“You’ve got anything to say?”

The words prickled at your tongue but you swallowed them. No. Don’t say it.

“No, sir.” Good girl.

“Clearly, you do,” Rogers opposed, eyes dark as they watched you sharply.

Well, then. Bad girl it was.

“Do I? Fine. You’re a big fat hypocrite.”

You might have as well stuck a bar into a bee hive and poked around, aiming for the queen. Rogers went from slightly annoyed to ballistic in a split second, back in your face.  

“Excuse me?!”

“Excused. I bet you were aaaaaaall about following orders in your time, weren’t you?” you mocked him, knowing you were so on point it had to burn him – that was, if he took a moment to actually consider your words, the words of the inferior, painfully imperfect being. “Even now. Never reckless, never out of line if you feel like it’s the right thing to do. Never pushy with your superstrength, never just removing people who stand in your way, because you can and you will get away with it, because you are the saint who does no wrong, not at all-“

It was his turn to scoff, his eyes burning with bright blue flame of righteousness – and disdain.

“You think being me is so great, don’t you?” he threw back your earlier words, bitter, clearly regretting the sympathy he had found for you earlier. He crossed his arms on his chest again, shaking his head, a sardonic smile on his lips. “You have me all figured out.”

“Yes. Yes, I do. So I know you’d do the same in my place and I know that’s why you’re so angry with me. We always get mad when we’re offered a mirror, don’t we?” you pressed, mirroring his bitter smile indeed.

Something flashed in his eyes, voice dropping low. Dangerously low. “I am angry. You have no idea, Spectre.”

Good. Then you had at least something in common.

“Well, so am I. You have no authority to decide when I have enough-“

“As your captain, I actually do-” he interjected, raising his voice again and you just rolled your eyes.

You were insanely grateful for the familiar sensation of slight popping in your ears, the gentle swing of the floor under your feet. You’d be more grateful for it if you didn’t have to stifle a cry, when your body naturally attempted to balance it out and didn’t feel the burn in your abdomen, but you couldn’t always get what you wanted, could you?

Case on a damn point.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, right,” you said, looking straight into your captain’s eyes, sticking your chin out defiantly, saccharine voice of obedience dripping from your lips, heavy with sarcasm. “Well, if you, sir, have anything else to say, say it now, because we’re landing and I’m about to take a shower and sleep for a week. That is if I am allowed. Or do I need to submit an official request?”

You couldn’t tell whether he wanted to shout again or do exactly what you suggested you would do; because suddenly he, too, seemed dead tired, as if your shouting match exhausted him more than the mission or your failure. He stared at you, silent, for a few long moments – a few too many, almost enough to make you feel guilty again for calling him out on his bullshit, enough to make you consider apologizing for that.

Then he sighed. “No, you don’t, Agent. I hope you’ll rest well.”

You blinked, your heart skipping a shocked beat. His voice was surprisingly soft and sincere, his gaze roaming over you head to toe, seemingly concerned.

Did you just break him? Kindness was far from uncommon in him – once you’d calm down, you’d be more inclined to believe that again, you knew as much – but the sudden change genuinely startled you.

“Uhm… thanks,” you muttered, too taken aback to talk back as you walked backwards. He truly looked worn down to a bone, his brain no doubt racing, already figuring out how to fix the mess you had left behind. He looked like he needed a goddamn nap himself. Except you didn’t think he’d take it; that was part of his problem.

Hypocrite.

You swallowed the you too and simply nodded sharply before you walked away, emotions swirling wildly; and at the centre of them all, remorse and puzzlement, wrapped in a familiar sensation of agony.

Winter Soldier was a moniker Steve Rogers loathed; but the reputation which came with that name was not unearned.

When Bucky appeared behind his shoulder out of nowhere, no sound having been made, Steve nearly jumped out of his skin; and it was a true testament to how upset he was that he hadn’t heard Bucky sneak up on him despite his slightly enhanced senses.

“Well, that went spectacularly,” Bucky hummed, instantly making Steve groan internally.

He did not want to deal with this – he wanted to forget about this whole ordeal. The fact itself that Bucky was cheery about a sleeper Hydra cell simply because he had an opportunity to tease him about what had just gone down only added to his annoyance.

He was tired. He was mad. He was confused. He was disappointed – both in you and himself. He was… frustrated. So frustrated; then again, those emotions and the last one in general were no news in your presence, much like many others, but those in particular he wanted to ponder over even less.

“Bucky, don’t,” he warned his friend lowly, glancing at him from the corner of his eye as they made a slow way out of the jet.

It was a waste of words, really: Steve didn’t know what he was thinking, believing the warning would actually discourage Bucky from speaking.

“You know, maybe if you told her that the main reason why you’re so pissed-“

“Buck-“

“- is the fact that she’s challenging your authority which makes you question yourself, and that you’re terrified every time she gets hurt or loses consciousness, be it her projection or, god forbid, her real body, because you care juuuust a little too much for her, then maybe… “

Steve loved his best friend; but if looks could kill, the one he shot him at the verbalized implications, however truthful, could have murdered him on spot.

“Just saying,” Bucky said, shrugging as he kept up with Steve’s sudden strut, a grin audible in his voice. “Communication is key.”

“You need to stop hanging out with Sam,” Steve grumbled. “And I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Bucky snorted, causing Steve’s head to whip in his direction in annoyance. Didn’t Bucky have a lady to tend to? Why did he have to stick around and poke around Steve’s already exhausted brain and feed the already messy whirlwind of emotion? Oh right. Bucky would say it was payback for all the years Bucky spent saving Steve’s puny ass from the back alleys.

“Right. Just like you had no idea what she was talking about when she called you a hypocrite, because you wouldn’t do the same, try to deliver all the files you could even if it meant you’d bleed the heck out, right? Your real body, that is, because you only have one…”

Goddamnit Bucky.

“Bucky, that’s enough.”

“Nope,” his friend quipped, smiling charmingly at the group of agents they passed in the hallway and briefly, Steve imagined what they had to look like; a brooding Captain practically running away from the sunshine-like Winter Soldier. Clint would call them comedy gold; and Steve didn’t give a damn. Today had been a clusterfuck of disasters with you and him in the centre of it.

“It’s enough when I say it’s enough,” Bucky said matter-of-factly. Steve just shot him another glare as they rounded the corner, the corridor now blissfully empty. And sadly, endless with nowhere to hide. “Too bad, punk. You might be the Captain, but you’re still my friend. I’ll be bothering your reckless ass and call you out till the end of the line. And I’m telling you – you two need to get your shit together and make up. And maybe you should finally tell her you’d like to make out. But if I were you, I’d start with that apology.”

Steve stopped so abruptly Bucky nearly collided with him. The flare or anger – because goddammit was Bucky right in certain things and it was truly bothersome to hear those – licked at his gut. As he turned to give his most loyal and precious friend a piece of his mind in return, he found him with a knowing smirk on his face. Why were they friends again?

“Really? An apology?” Steve questioned, the idea absurd even as guilt had already joined the party a while ago. “For what exactly? She should have--- one of those days, she’s gonna-” Steve swallowed against the lump in his throat. He did not like the way the sentence could end. How you could end. But he’d scream at you again before he’d admit that; you brought out that side of him for some reason. You brought out a lot of things, most of them unpleasant. Most of them. “She should have followed orders.”

Bucky’s eyebrows jumped to his hairline – which wasn’t too high given how much he’d let his hair grow, but it still served the purpose of irritating Steve.

“Sure she should. And if you have always followed orders, I’d be dead.”

Steve winced as if he got punched in the gut, all flames of anger put out at once. Bucky just shrugged, unbothered by his hypothetical death.

“That’s a fact, punk. And here’s another: your mother would have boxed your ears for treating a lady the way you just did.”

And this isn’t you, Steve heard the unspoken words and with those he couldn’t argue.

The truth was, Steve didn’t recognize himself around you. He hadn’t more than once but it had never got as intense as it had just now. He felt almost possessed, an astral projection of his own, except he couldn’t control it as it raised its voice like that, in front of the whole team no less. And the worst thing was, it wasn’t a projection; the blame was entirely on him as he failed to contain the onslaught of emotion so sharp and large that he just let it all out. Almost all of it.

The one urge he tried to contain was the one to just slam you to a wall and scream the whole truth before he’d vent his frustration with you in a completely different way, with nips of teeth on that lower lip of yours, always pouting a bit when you got into one of your not so frequent but not so rare arguments, having you scream his name in ecstasy instead of defiance, a breathy whine of Mighty Captain without the snark. He was sure that would have raised a few eyebrows, but hopefully the room would clear in three seconds flat after your back would have hit the wall.

In all honesty, the whole scene had been surreal as it was; Steve had had trouble recognizing you as well. You had disagreed with him a few times, yes, you challenged his authority and questioned his decisions, yes; he had a pretty strong feeling that he was most definitely not your favourite person and more often than not, he didn’t quite understand you – but you had never so blatantly disobeyed an order. You had never endangered a mission or your teammates, never played this much of a Russian roulette, even if one might call you an overachiever which sometimes came with a bit of recklessness by default.

It was true that you could be unpredictable at times; one day you followed instructions to a tee, dutiful, meticulous even; another day, you stood firmly in opposition. One day you dotted on others in almost an overbearing quality, another day it was like you evaporated from the face of Earth, completely absent. But what came over you today, Steve had had no idea – you had been not only reckless, but to a great point, careless. Steve’s mind was blown, but not in the good sense.

That said, he was not pleased with himself either, particularly with the fact was that he had acted impulsively during the mission too. You were definitely right to call him out on it; but that didn’t mean he liked it.

He glanced at Bucky, who was watching him with one corner of his lips still raised knowingly, only fuelling Steve’s ire. Despite all that, Steve knew Bucky was right. And unlike when he was in your presence, he didn’t feel the need to deny that completely.

Sarah Rogers, god rest her precious soul, would have been profoundly disappointed in his behaviour and she would have let him hear it too, despite the infinite kindness and forgiveness she had carried in her heart.

“I know,” Steve sighed. “I shouldn’t have--- she’s just so- I-“

“I know, punk,” Bucky said forgivingly. “I know. That girl has some serious fire in her and she’s not the easiest to deal with, even if she means well, no doubt. Who does that only remind me of…?”

Steve glared at him, unimpressed – he was aware, thank you very much. Not only opposites attracted. Though he was quite certain this attraction was one-sided; and completely insane.

Bucky just grinned and patted Steve’s shoulder.

“Take a nap, Steve. We all deserve one, even if things didn’t go as planned. We’ll get them next time – as a team. Share some of that burden you strap to your shoulders every time to strap on that shield, would you? It can do wonders, believe me.”

“You really do need to stop hanging out with Sam and spend more time with Nat,” Steve uttered, a small smile gracing his lips.

“Shut up, punk, you love me mental health conscious.”

A full grin attacked Steve’s lips now, troubles forgotten momentarily, unlike the fact why Bucky Barnes was his best friend.

“Jury’s out, jerk” 

Even as you felt the fire of rage slowly dying, you tried to feed it; because it kept you on your feet. You had not in fact went to lie down, even as you felt those feet dragging more than walking to Natasha Romanoff’ office. She didn’t spend too much time in it, always having better things to do than paperwork, but you knew she’d want her report to be done as fast as possible to move on exactly to those more important things.

And you knew that as long as she was there, her office was conveniently the best place to talk, the camera system disabled.

“Well, hello,” the redhead hummed as she had Jarvis let you storm in, breathless for more than one reason.

Your abdomen was throbbing, but you didn’t have time for that. It wasn’t like you were going to bleed out from a non-existent wound.

“We need to go back there and fix it.”

The infamous Black Widow only raised her eyebrow at your dishevelled state and frantic words, leaning back into her chair. You admitted you had to be a sight to the devil himself since you probably looked like hell, but you rarely let that stop you.

“Water under bridge, Spectre. The base is blown so there’s nothing to go back to and the rest of them will go deep under-“

You shook your head, stalking to her desk, leaning onto your hands, fingers spasming at the bite of pain. Bad idea. And bad phrasing.

“No, Natasha, we—” She scanned you head to toe, her other eyebrow arching as well as you had boldly invaded her space, practically asking to be removed. Violently. You didn’t have the energy to lean back, not right away. You weren’t friends, so you had no right to be so close, but she’d get over it, you were sure. The worst thing to happen would be her breaking off your wrist or something. “What I mean is that we have to act now and get those files. All of them.”

Her gaze zeroed on your face, unnervingly searching and seeing, head tilting to side in genuine curiosity.

“What exactly was in those files that it made you hesitate? You rarely ignore orders,” she stated matter-of-factly, causing you to retreat and step back. Oh. Crap. Black Widow in offensive. She walked around the desk, leaning her weight onto it, crossing her arms over her chest. “What did you see, Spectre?”

You gulped; there was no way around it, even as panic made your breathing even harder. There were so many things wrong with what you were about to say and you had no capacity to analyse why you felt the way you felt about it, let alone why you felt even worse about the fact you were the reason why you hadn’t got the intel to others.

“Steve’s initials.”

Even as her brows had smoothened, they arched again now, eyes growing wide. You swallowed against the lump in your throat.

“I tried to copy it and just opened it for a bit, too immersed to notice the unfriendly. Naturally, I got the bullet for my trouble before I neutralized him, but that’s beside the point,” you said, not missing the corner of her lips twitching. “They were… Natasha, they weren’t just some photos or whatever. Those were… they were inventing some shit. It was physics, chemistry, half of the things I didn’t understand, but I don’t think they were replicating the serum – I think they were trying to neutralize it, neutralize Steve specifically.”

And there was no way I was going to leave that there, was left unspoken, but she heard it. Of course she did; this was Natasha Romanoff you were talking to. She didn’t need you two to be friends to read between the lines of what you were saying.

“I see,” she said slowly, the damn intensity of her gaze not relenting. “And you didn’t tell Steve that when he was yelling you down, because…?”

“It was irrelevant.”

“Bullshit.”

“He wouldn’t believe me.”

She scoffed, glaring you down. “That’s bullshit too and you know it.”

Okay, that was fair. But believing was a lot different from taking action. His damn pride would have still had him snapping you back to your real body even if you had yelled at him through the comms what kind of intel you had been carrying on the drive before he messed it up for you – and him. What the heck had he been thinking, breaking your concentration like that? The utter confusion at his actions – because surely it couldn’t have been he had been so angry with you to endanger the mission – only made the matter of your fight worse.

Natasha was right, however – that was just water under bridge. You sure as hell weren’t about to go ask him what possessed him to be more insufferable than normal and you could hardly fly to the pile of debris you had left behind when the place blew up to search for scraps of hard drives.

“Fine. I didn’t think he’d take it seriously,” you admitted at last.

“Now we’re talking,” Natasha said, nodding, a small smirk appearing on her lips, making you frown.

She sure was taking it in stride all of sudden, almost as if--- was she amused? You hoped that was only a mask and in her sharp mind, she was already building a battleplan. She had to. She was one of Steve’s closest friends, real friends, you knew as much. Sometimes her nonchalance truly irritated you. Would it kill her to show more emotion?

Hypocrite.

“But that’s not enough,” she added. “Steve, bless his heart, can be an ass, but not a complete idiot. Any other particular reason why you’d keep it from him?”

Your face was a mask of neutrality. Or you hoped so.

“Nope.”

Natasha watched you sceptically and you swallowed against the lump in your throat.

Naturally, there was a plethora of reasons and on top of them sat the fact that he’d know. He’d know how much you cared. He probably figured out anyway and maybe he wasn’t one to make fun of you for that – scratch that, he definitely wasn’t, he was too much of a good guy for that – but that meant nothing. Caring for people was dangerous; caring for people when you failed meant they’d be taken away. Having people to care for – good people – was a privilege, a reward, one that could easily be confiscated unless you reached perfection.

And yes. You knew Steve Rogers was a good guy, even when he decided to yell at you in front of everyone and challenged you and made you want to smash him against the wall and bite into his stupid plump lower lip and then cuddle him and tell him he didn’t have to be so strong and that people cared about his safety too. Of course you knew he felt pain, but he just never showed it, and it was just so damn irritating, because you needed him to be only human too, so you wouldn’t feel so pathetic despite your powers, so you’d feel a little more worthy. You were well-aware that your way of thinking wasn’t healthy, especially since Steve was a person you could never and should never compare yourself to because that standard was just impossibly high, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t try to meet it. That didn’t mean your family hadn’t set the standards just as high. Perfection was not an unreachable standard, even as it always seemed to be out of reach for you.

However, knowing that precisely that was one of the main reasons why you admired Steve as much as you wanted to punch him to his perfect teeth didn’t help you coexist with him or stopped you from acting like a five-year-old in his vicinity.

On top of that, you were fully aware of how disappointed he would be in you for failing in one particular task which you were sure he considered the most important one: to have your teammates’ six. And you wouldn’t handle that; you were selfish even to that point. To have Captain Rogers learn you hadn’t been strong and fast enough to retrieve data which increased the chance of keeping a key member of your team safe and watch his reaction up close would break your damn barely patched up heart.

Natasha continued to watch you as you zoned out, her smirk growing. “Right. No other reason at all then.”

Oh, she knew about it all, alright. You had no doubt. She might not show much emotion, but that didn’t mean she hadn’t mastered reading other people’s tells. If you had any emotional capacity left, you’d be ashamed at how your face burned under her watchful gaze.

“Will you please tell the others about the files?” you asked instead, causing her to tilt her head to side a fraction again.

“I will, but why should I? Why, when you can be the one to do it? If nothing else, you should tell Steve,” she said, almost motherly you supposed – not that you’d know. “Those were files about him – he deserves the truth and to hear it from you. I’m sure he’d be less angry with you too.”

Somehow, her last suggestion was even more terrifying than Steve Rogers being all in your face and snarling. You attempted a smile, masking the anxiety curling in your gut by exhaustion.

“Maybe. I just… it might be childish, but I don’t… I don’t have the energy for that now. Tell me what else I can do and I will, but not that.”

She watched you silently for several long moments, a small smile curling up her lips – almost a compassionate one. What was it with people and their damn compassion today? You had fucked up. Why was Steve the only one to acknowledge that and why was he relatively nice about it in the end, just like Natasha now? Frankly, as much as you preferred not being completely on Black Widow’s bad side, earning her pity was exponentially worse.

“You know, most things are not going to go away just because you pretend that they don’t exist. Least of all feelings.”

It’s been working out pretty well for you, you wanted to throw back, but Bucky Barnes, the love and the lover who was one of the few people who could slip under the hard shell of Natasha Romanoff, would probably argue with you that it worked for her the best when she did let someone in. But unlike you, Natasha Romanoff did not make mistakes and was an epitome of perfection herself so she could afford that. Natasha Romanoff was terrifying; you’d like to watch someone try to mess with her.

You, on the other hand, were no Black Widow. You could and even had to keep pretending in order to exist.

“Just watch me.”

She sighed, letting her hands fall to her sides. “Go to bed, Spectre. I know you still feel that gunshot wound.”

You froze.

Your heart skipped a beat – several beats, you were sure – because your chest suddenly hurt, panic clawing up your throat anew.

She knew. She knew.

How did she--- how? You always fought so hard to hide it, as much as of a pain that was; horrible pun included.

Yes, you sure as hell still felt the gunshot wound. With every move. With every breath. Every time you had strained your muscles to yell back at Steve.

The pain of whatever injury your spectre sustained alwayslingered. Ironically, it was only thing you actually were able to carry when you snapped back. It stayed with you for a while; not the whole time that it would take for the wound to heal, but it still took days sometimes, days of pain whose intensity slowly faded away. An invisible aching wound – like a pain in a phantom limb. There was no evidence of an injury in your body, but your brain still registered it. No therapeutic approach had worked when you finally accepted that despite what you had been taught, this wasn’t normal; only for having to accept that with no solution in sight, it actually was normal. Then again, what was normal when you only had one sample to examine?

“You mostly hide it well, don’t worry,” Natasha’s voice snapped you from your dark thoughts, uncharacteristically soft. “Your secret is safe with me. But that doesn’t mean it should.”

“It definitely should,” you said in at instant, eyes hard despite the tell-tale burn of tears you felt. If anyone knew – anyone else, that was, apparently – you’d be done. Benched forever.

I do feel pain and I don’t have the luxury to switch it off when I snap back into my real body, Steve had thrown at you. If he hadn’t noticed, you were good; you had indeed hid it well enough and that was all that mattered; despite bickering and yelling, he was still willing to work with you. But that would change very quickly; and he had the authority to kick you out of this team and this business completely.

Sure, Natasha had the power to bench you and even fire you as well, but judging by the way she was looking at you now, no matter how disapprovingly and somewhat proud at once, she wouldn’t. It would be okay – as long as she’d keep her mouth shut about it just as Andy had. Andrew Garner, the only person who had known your painful secret and encouraged you to engage with various therapy approaches to rid you off your burden. He had taken the secret to the grave, never having told nor Coulson, nor the rest of his team.

The one person who had known about this was dead; and if that wasn’t a clear enough message that no one else was supposed be trusted with this, you didn’t know what else would.

“It should,” you repeated, inhaling and instantly regretting it. You swallowed as Natasha didn’t miss the tiny hitch in your breath. Dammit you needed to get better at hiding it. And you would. “Please. Tell me what else I can do.”

Perhaps it was your true superpower to make people sigh, not to project into another room, because the redhead observed you for another long moment before sighing again.

“I meant it, Spectre – go to bed. After I’ll tell the others, we might need you. Rested. With as much as you can give.”

One corner of your lips rose in a tired defiant smirk. “I can give everything.”

The look Natasha gave you before you spun on your heels told you that precisely that was both the blessing and the problem. But you didn’t need to be told more than twice to go to bed.

As you walked out, trying your hardest to walk completely straight and not hunch over even a bit, you heard Natasha’s completely exhausted sigh.

Next chapter

Series masterlist // S.R. masterlist

Alright folks, life's been quite busy so this was born through sweat and tears and I don't think it will get better any time soon, but hopefully the result will be worth it 🥰

There are and will be a few distant references to Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. I think you should be fine whout having watched the show.

Thank you for reading 🥰 As always, if you have he time and energy, I'd greatly appreciate your reblogs and feedback, be it even a key smash or yelling at me should the need arise 🤭

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Oh, To Be A Harbinger

Pairings: Various Fatui grunts x reader

Warnings: Male!reader, dom/top!reader, harbinger!reader, sub/bottom characters, power play, free use, groping, blowjob (Mirror Maiden), choking (Agent), fingering, rough sex, eating out, use of the terms 'whore, slut, good boy/girl, sir'

Genre/Format: Smut; Scenarios

Author's Note: Please tell me that I'm not the only person who's insanely horny for the Fatui enemies...? They're all so incredibly gorgeous and submissive and breedable 😳

Please check my blog title to verify whether requests are closed or not! Thank you!

Most harbingers were known for something; some niche or expertise that they so proudly flaunt as if it were a trophy. You were a bit different, however. On the surface, you appeared to be 'the sweet one.' All of the others saw their subordinates as just that; subordinates. Pawns to do their menial work, at their beck and call 24/7

But not you. No, no, no, you were the harbinger that cared. You were the one to learn all of your subordinates' names and memorize them, casually chatting with all of them and helping them at times. People were always begging to be transferred to work under you, pleading with the Tsaritsa on their hands and knees. She never understood what got into them. Was being treated with kindness really all it took to gain complete submission from a person?

On the outside, everything was innocent. Your subordinates were called into your office and left ten minutes to several hours later with a smile. But those that were under your command knew the truth. Their hushed whispers reached the ears of harbingers and their subordinates alike

The truth is...

The truth is, your subordinates signed contracts to become your free use sluts. Not every single one, necessarily, but once the word spread about how good the sex was (and the aftercare), more contracts were eventually signed as you amassed a harem

-

The tiny electro cicin mage yelped when you harshly yanked her panties to the side, pushing your fingers into her wet hole immediately. She didn't expect to run into her boss on this particular patrol...and she was super embarrassed when you caught her stroking a finger over the panties of her uniform, gasping her boss's name as a dark spot grew on the clothing

Mewls of shame and pleasure slipped from her mouth while you sunk in deeper, knuckle deep in her pussy and scissoring your digits. The contrast of your slow fingering and the way you furiously rubbed her clit caused her to cum so fast. Her knees buckled as the slick ran down her plush thighs, apologizing for cumming without permission. “I-I'm so sorry, s-sir...I didn't mean to...just felt so good...”

Without a word, you grabbed the eager lady's ass and pulled her forward, causing her to stumble a bit. An even deeper blush spread across her cheeks when she noticed that your lips were brushing against her little pussy, as it was hovering just above your face. She opened her mouth to question you but immediately moaned instead, rolling her hips and scrambling to grab your shoulders or hair, anything to support herself while your mouth latched onto her heat

A shrill cry pierced your ears as you ripped a second orgasm from the poor girl. Her cry transitioned into panting and broken begging when you didn't stop after she came, licking her cunt just as vigorously as before while her juices flowed out

You reached an arm up to grab one of her cute tits and squeezed while your tongue worked even deeper inside of her pussy. The overstimulation caused the little thing to actually cry, staining the inside of her mask with salty tears

-

Dragonspine was known to be a harsh environment to traverse, though not quite as harsh as you were going to be with the beautiful Fatui agent that was on patrol just to the right of the snowy peak

A knife pressed against the fragile flesh of your throat as you accidentally startled your grunt, who was extremely quick to stammer out a profuse apology. “Please forgive me, sir! I-I thought– I thought you were one of those annoying adventurers f-from the Guild...” The man explained, “They've been all over me as of late...”

A single scoff was the only sound that came from you as you pushed the agent up against a rather large tree trunk. He was caged in by your larger form, a realization that caused him to tremble. The next thing that the agent knew, your firm grip wrapped around his windpipe, squeezing all of the air out of his lungs while you used his own knife to cut the man's trousers open

The sounds of the grunt's wheezing and the sloppy wet sounds of your dick fucking into his ass were loudly echoing around the area. You had lifted the agent off of the ground a bit by his neck, pinning him to the tree while you took out your frustrations (mild annoyance) on him

Multiple loads were emptied within the man's walls and promptly fucked deeper inside of him until you were satisfied with your work. Releasing your grip and letting the fucked out slut fall onto the grass, coughing and sucking in sharp breaths

Crouching down to his level, you tilted your subordinate's head up until he met your eyes. Two simple words elicited a pitiful whimper from him: “Good boy~”

-

Pacing along the soft sands of Nazuchi beach, a mirror maiden was enjoying the serene sounds of the salt water and gentle breeze when her acute sense of hearing caught something else—

“I heard you”

You let out a soft chuckle before putting your hands in the air jokingly, “Ya got me. I hope I didn't startle you too much, darling.” Immediately, the maiden's posture straightened up at the sound of your voice. She apologized for acting hostile as she had no clue who had approached her, erring on the side of caution since there had been quite a few attacks around the beach as of late

“No, no– It's my bad. I should have remembered your crazy good ears. I just–” You began, pausing for a second. Then suddenly your voice went from being several feet in front of the maiden to being directly in her sensitive ear

“–Wanted to see you for a bit, baby. I knew you'd be alone today and I um...I need a little something from you~ ” You purred, pulling the slender woman against your chest while trailing wet kisses all along her neck

The unprepared maiden spent the next hour or two bracing herself against a nearby rock while you pulled her white dress up and penetrated her fat ass. Her pussy dripped with desire while you used her ass as a personal fleshlight, groping her big tits and grunting in her delicate ears because you knew how much she loved it when you took advantage of her impressive sense of hearing

Every thrust inside of her tight hole caused the fat of her cheeks and breasts to bounce and jiggle. The maiden futilely begged for you to use her pussy too, but you had already decided that you were going to deny her that privilege today. Opting for violating her other holes and fucking her breasts if you so desired

Once you had pumped a load into her ass, you spun the woman around and pushed her onto her knees, smacking your wet cock against her cheek. The whore's mouth was the next thing to get pounded as you forced your entire length down her warm throat until it pushed you over the edge again. Your second load poured directly into her stomach since your dick was so far down her throat; poor thing didn't even get a taste of your seed this time...

-

One time, a fellow harbinger caught you railing one of your subordinates inside of your office

A cute cryo cicin mage was bent over your desk, clutching scattered papers in her nimble hands as your fat cock drilled into her sopping cunt. Wet plap plap sounds were the only thing that the other harbinger could hear — besides the mage's shrill moaning and you groaning — as your fingers curled in her hair and pulled the little thing's head up to meet their shocked face

“Soooo...”

“Either get in here and lock the door or get the fuck out.” You spat, not once slowing down or interrupting your rhythm. The harbinger stepped in somewhat reluctantly. This isn't exactly something that they expected to see...and yet, they found themselves growing hard/wet by the second. Instinctually cupping their groin as a choked moan tried to slip through

“Take that fucking cock, babygirl. Yeah, riiiiight there~ ” You drawled, angling your thrusts so that you were pounding against her sweet spot, pulling all sorts of adorable noises from the sweet mage

Your fellow harbinger couldn't stop their hips from rocking into their touch while they stroked their dick/rubbed their pussy. Not wanting to admit that the sight of their coworker fucking some grunt was actually turning them on. Though it was extremely obvious to you

Speeding up your hips, your thrusts became a bit sloppy as your climax drew closer– Railing the mage harder and causing her ass to turn pink from how hard you were slamming against her until–

“Gooood girl~ ” You growled while spilling inside of your little subordinate. Staring directly into the other harbinger's eyes while your cum painted the mage's walls white

Your coworker couldn't prevent the breathless noise that escaped from their parted lips, flitting their gaze down to your creamy cock when you pulled out of the small lady

Reblogs are extremely appreciated <3

#my writing #genshin impact smut #genshin smut #genshin x reader #genshin impact #fatui #fatui x reader #cicin mage #mirror maiden #fatui agent #harbinger x reader #<- at the end #harbinger reader #male reader #dom reader #top reader #sub character #oneshot