𝕮𝖔𝖇𝖎𝖊 𝕾𝖒𝖚𝖑𝖉𝖊𝖗𝖘 𝕴𝖒𝖆𝖌𝖎𝖓𝖊𝖘

Coming For You | C.S.

[Smut]

A/N: Hiya! I'm sorry it took me a while to update this book due to lack of motivation, but now I'm back with a smutty one for all the horny imbeciles among you. Enjoy!

<3

You arrived on set without warning, slipping past crew members who hardly glanced at you, too busy adjusting lights and rechecking camera angles. The soundstage was a chaos of lighting rigs, props, and camera tracks—sci-fi military realism everywhere, with SHIELD logos stamped across crates and monitors. You paused at the threshold, watching as Cobie stood in the center of it all, dressed in her Maria Hill costume—dark, commanding, tactical. Her arms were folded, her jaw tight as she listened to the director's instructions.

Your chest tightened with love. And something else.

She looked exhausted.

Her eyes were sharp, focused, but the lines of her body were worn. The makeup couldn't quite hide the fatigue around her eyes, the way her shoulders sagged when the director yelled cut. But she was still beautiful. Unbelievably so.

She hadn't seen you yet.

You leaned against the wall, out of view, watching as she moved through the final shots. The scene played out in staccato bursts—orders barked, weapons drawn, the cold clarity of a woman in control. But you knew her well. You could hear it. That slight push too far. That clipped breath. She was pushing herself.

Again.

When the final "cut" echoed through the studio, the crew erupted in polite applause. Cobie lowered her arms slowly, stepping back out of the frame. A makeup artist rushed toward her, but she waved her off with a tired smile.

That's when her eyes met yours.

Her whole face changed.

You saw the exhaustion drop from her like a cloak. A grin pulled at her lips as she half-jogged toward you, still wearing the combat boots and tight-fitting SHIELD gear. She looked like a soldier off-duty, finally spotting something soft on the battlefield.

She crashed into your arms with a breathless laugh. "You didn't tell me you were coming."

"I wanted to surprise you."

"You did." She rested her forehead against yours. "God, I needed this."

You kissed her softly. Her lips were cool from the studio air. "I could tell."

"You watched the whole thing?"

"Most of it. You were amazing."

"Thank you," she whispered, but you heard the way her voice dipped. Tired. Vulnerable. You brushed a piece of hair out of her face, fingers lingering on her cheek.

"Come on," you said gently. "Let's get you out of this costume."

She sighed, pressing her face into your neck. "Please."

The dressing room was tucked in the back of the set, barely larger than a closet. You locked the door behind you, turning the small latch before flicking on the soft yellow light overhead.

Cobie stood in the middle of the room, still wrapped in the dark tactical suit. She let her arms drop to her sides. You moved behind her without a word, fingers finding the zipper at the base of her neck.

It was sleek—everything she wore for Maria Hill was functional and tight—but you handled it easily, pulling the zipper down, peeling the dark fabric away from her back. Her pale skin emerged beneath your fingers, warm and smooth under your touch. She didn't speak. Didn't move. Just breathed.