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Ficmas in July

Chapter Text

“That’s the last time I ever go on a run with you,” you panted, bent over.

Your stomach was revolting, your limbs felt as if they didn’t belong to your body, the sweat in your eyes stung. You wanted to die. That would be a relief after the torture you’d put your body through. You fell to the dewey grass, clutching at your ribs, trying to keep your body from exploding. Everything hurt.

Steve was openly laughing at you. It wasn’t your fault the stupid serum had made him into a stupid super soldier able to run for more miles than any rational person ever could. It didn’t help that he looked like a greek god in his sweat soaked shirt. You could see every single muscle. If you’d had the energy you would have been drooling. It was obscene.

“Don’t be so dramatic,” he said.

He reached down and picked you up, barely straining against your weight. You tried to protest but your slap was more like a pat to his pec. He laughed again and pressed a kiss to your forehead. You tried to wriggle out of his arms but he tightened his grip on you.

“Stop showing off,” you wheezed.

“I’m worried you’ll collapse if I leave you to your own devices,” he said.

You humphed but settled against him. It wasn’t every day a girl was lucky enough to be so close to the Captain America and his dream worthy muscles. He pressed another kiss to your forehead and you sighed. You could feel him smiling against your hairline. You nuzzled against his shoulder.

“You’re not fighting anymore?” he asked.

“Free ride,” was all you could say between pants.

He carried you the entire way back to your apartment. If the mere presence of him didn’t cloud your head you would have been embarrassed at everyone seeing the two of you. He fished the key out of his pocket and unlocked the door, holding you with one arm. He really was showing off now.

He kicked the door closed and dropped you on the sofa, disappearing into the kitchen. You lay in your back, looking up at the ceiling. It was so clean. You’d never seen a ceiling be so clean before. Why was it so clean?

A cool cup of water was placed in your hand and you thanked the gods. You swung your legs off the sofa and sat up, taking a long drink from the glass. Steve was standing in front of you, drinking from his own glass. You levelled a glare at him for not needing to recover, for being so poised after putting your body through hell. He grinned at you, the sadistic bastard.

“You know, I could ask Tony if you can run with him next time,” he said.

“Fuck off,” you rasped.

“Language,” he admonished but he was already laughing.

You rolled your eyes and finished off your glass of water. He took it from you, placing it on the table as he sat. You looked at him, scrunching up your nose. He smiled, cupping your cheeks as he leaned towards you.

“Steve,” you said in warning. You were horrifically sweaty after all.

He ignored you. kissing you softly. You fell towards him, unable to do anything to pull away from him. He was magnetic in ways you couldn’t even begin to understand. You’d never loved a single person as much as you loved Steve.

Chapter Text

“C’mon, I wanna go,” you whined through the closed door of the bathroom.

It opened without warning. You were face to face with a bare chest and you felt your thoughts disappear from your brain. You dragged your eyes upward to meet the sparkling blue eyes of your boyfriend. He was smiling at you, his yes crinkled up at the corner.

“Ready to go?” he asked.

“Uh…”

Your eyes roved down again his body, stopping when you saw all he was wearing was a towel. You bit down on your lip, wondering what would happen if you pulled it off. He put his hands on your shoulders, drawing your eyes back to his. He was barely containing his laughter.

He moved you back from the door, stepping into the room. You watched as he rifled through the suitcase, pulling out clothes for the day. You bit your lip as he dropped the towel, pulling on his jeans. He turned, as he made to pull his shirt over his head.

“I thought you wanted to hurry,” he said when he saw you hadn’t moved.

“It can wait,” you said, “it’s only a walk.”

You pulled the shirt from his hands, tossing it over your shoulder. He laughed as you wrapped your arms around his waist, pressing your body to his. He cupped your cheeks as you looked up at him. Your breath caught in your throat as he smiled at you.

“Didn’t you plan our entire day down to the last second?” he asked.

“Uh huh,” you said, pressing your lips to the closest available skin.

He pulled your face up, kissing you deeply. He let you go, leaving you breathless and wanting more. He moved you again, picking his shirt up off the floor. You pouted as he pulled it on. He pressed another kiss to your lips as he passed you your bag.

“Come on,” he said, “you want to go see the Hollywood stars on the boulevard.”

“Sure I want to see the walk of fame,” you said, “but I also want to see those abs again.”

He chuckled but all he did was sling his arm around your shoulders, leading you out of the room. You pouted but didn’t argue as he led you through the hotel lobby and onto the street. He checked the directions on his phone and set off, dragging you by the hand.

“Holidays are meant to be relaxing,” you said, “can’t we go back to bed?”

“We’re only doing what you planned,” he said, flashing =a smile at you over his shoulder. You felt your heart skip a beat.

He led you through the crowds on the street, never letting your hand slip from his. He paused, putting his arm around your shoulders as he looked up the street. You could see people posing for pictures, looking down at the walk of stars.

“Still want to go back to bed?” he asked, as he watched the tourists swarming around you.

“Yes,” you replied, “but I also really want to see Harry Potter’s tiny hands.”

He smiled, pulling you along as he led you towards the Harry Potter tile. You would get him into bed later, but for now you were going to appreciate your favourite people in the entertainment industry.

Chapter Text

“Did you eat my doughnut?” you asked, glancing up at the man sitting at the table.

He glanced at you from over his book, quirking an eyebrow as if it was the stupidest accusation you’d ever made. You raised your own eyebrow waiting for a proper answer. He sighed and put his book down. You saw the empty plate, the last sprinkle so obvious against the white porcelain. You clenched your jaw.

“You little bitch,” you said.

Without warning Bucky flung himself away from the table, running through the house. You gave chase, sliding across the table, listening for the sound of a slamming door in the distance. You followed behind, doing your best to stay on his heels.

He slammed out of the house, the door hitting the wall with a sickening crunch. You barely spared it a glance as you ran after him, growling with frustration as he drew farther and farther ahead. You slowed, watching him run into the distance.

You sighed, turning back to enter the house. Maybe if you were lucky, he would run all the way to Canada and no longer be your problem.

You’d been dreaming about that doughnut through your entire workout. It had been the only thing convincing you doing pushups was worth it. Bucky was such a hardass about you working out, being in tip top shape. Sometimes living with him was hell on Earth.

“You gave up,” a quiet voice said.

You turned around, finding Bucky standing in the doorway. You pouted, crossing your arms over your chest. He looked at you from under his lashes and you felt your heart swell. Damn him and his cute face.

“You ate my doughnut,” you said, “I only did all those stupid pushups so I could eat it.”

“Well, darlin, we can get you another doughnut,” he said.

“But I want it now,” you whined, “and you ate it.”

He stepped towards you, looking all contrite. You looked away from him, wanting him to feel the guilt he should. A strong pair of arms wrapped around your body. You shrieked, trying to wriggle out of Bucky’s hold. He tightened his arms around you, picking you up off the floor.

You could do nothing as he ran towards the lake. His feet slapped against the boards of the jetty. You slapped at his chest, trying to get him to let you down before you got to the water. He stopped at the end, looking out at the water. You genuinely had hope in your heart.

He threw you into the water, the cold water making you scream. Another splash sounded as you tried to push your sopping wet hair out of your face. Once again you were wrapped in a pair of strong arms.

“Bucky,” you admonished.

“I didn’t eat your doughnut.”

“What?”

He pushed your hair behind your ear and rested his forehead against yours. You blinked, not sure what he was getting at. You pushed back, your hands grasping his shoulders to keep your head above water.

“I didn’t eat your doughnut,” he said, “I thought it would be funny to pretend I ate it.”

“I hate you,” you said.

“No you don’t.”

He kissed you, stopping you from saying anything else. You wrapped your arms around his neck, unable to stay mad at him. You loved him, even if he could be difficult.

Chapter Text

“Hey, are you-“

You looked over your shoulder at Steve standing in the doorway. He was dressed in his tux, his hand still on his cufflinks as he adjusted his shirt. You smiled, your eyes raking over the handsome man in front of you.

“Am I what?” you asked, “hopelessly in love with you? Yes, I am.”

He smiled, taking the last step forward. He slipped his arms around your waist, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. You looked up at him, smiling fondly as he gazed at you.

“No, but really, what were you asking?” you asked, disentangling yourself from his hold to put the finishing touches to your lipstick.

He slid his arms around your waist, watching you in the mirror. You tried to ignore him as he pressed kisses to your neck but you couldn’t stop the heat pooling in your stomach. You put your lipstick into your clutch and threaded your fingers through his, leaning back against his chest.

“Don’t we have to go?” you asked.

He scraped his teeth over your pulse point. You shivered, pressing yourself more insistently against him. You turned your head, kissing him, unable to stop yourself. He hoisted you up onto the bathroom counter, kissing you back just as eagerly.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, drawing him closer. If you hadn’t been wearing a full length dress you would have wrapped your legs around him to ensure he couldn’t escape. His fingers were digging into the flesh of your hips in that delicious way that told you that he was holding himself back from taking you then and there.

“No,” he said, tearing away from you.

Red was smeared over his lips and you turned to look in the mirror, sighing in frustration when you saw the hard work you’d put in to make your lipstick perfect had gone to waste. You sighed again, and turned back to Steve. He was looking a little dazed and you couldn’t stop the giggles. He looked ridiculous, but in a sweet way.

“Uh, Sweetie, you got a little,” you said, indicating his mouth.

He looked in the mirror and sighed.

“Help?” he asked.

You cleaned him up, removing the red from his face. You cleaned yourself up, rummaging through your clutch to find your lipstick again. He put his hand on yours, stilling your actions.

“I think maybe you should leave it off,” he said.

“Why?” you asked.

“Because I don’t think I’ll be able to stop myself next time if you do.”

You glanced at him, trying to figure out how serious he was being. He was looking into your eyes in that intense way that said joking had long since left. You nodded, dropping the tube on the bathroom counter, but you filed away the information for later use.

“C’mon,” he said, threading his fingers through yours, “we’re late.”

“And whose fault is that?” you said, letting him lead you from the bathroom.

“Yours,” he replied, with a cheeky smirk, “you shouldn’t have worn red lipstick.”

Chapter Text

“Have you never seen a chicken?” you asked Bucky.

He was staring down at your chicken coop, the clucking louder than when you’d been in the house. He had his arms crossed over his chest and was not looking impressed. You were watching him, trying to figure out what was going through his head.

“Sure I have,” he said, “on my plate.”

You gasped with mock horror, clapping your hands over your ears. He spared a glance to you, a roll of his eyes telling you all you needed to know about his feelings.

“Don’t let them hear you say that,” you said, “I don’t need them to stop laying.”

You pushed your basket into his chest, forcing him to hold it. You knelt down beside the fencing, clucking at your babies. You smiled as they clucked back.

“Why am I helping you with this?” he asked.

“Steve volunteered you,” you replied, standing up again, “c’mon, get in there.”

He unlatched the coop, stepping inside. You watched as the chickens crowded around him, demanding food. You chuckled, following behind him, closing the door behind you. You threw some grains to them, pointing Bucky to the right place.

“I am not eating these,” he told you.

You shrugged at him, spreading some more grain around your feet. He stepped over the birds, doing his best not to get too close. You watched as he rummaged through the straw, putting the eggs he found in the basket. You couldn’t stop the smile on your face at how gently he was handling them.

“Why do you do this?” he asked.

“Gives me something to do,” you replied with another shrug, “and I like animals.”

He snorted but said nothing.

“It’s why I like you,” you replied.

He turned to look at you, raised eyebrows. You winked at him and he let out a barking laugh. You took the basket from him and stepped out of the coop again. He followed you, latching the door behind him. You counted the eggs, smiling at him.

“Good haul today,” you said.

“Put the basket down,” he demanded.

“Why?” you asked.

“Because I’m about to do this.”

He lurched forward, his hands cupping your cheeks. His lips were insistent upon yours and you gasped. You dropped the basket, slinging your arms around his neck, pressing your body against his. He nipped at your bottom lip and you opened your mouth to him. His tongue plundered your mouth, drawing a breathy moan from you. If he’d dragged you to the ground you would have let him take you then and there, regardless of who could see.

He drew away, leaving you a gasping mess. He looked down at the basket laying on its side on the ground. You followed his gaze, groaning in frustration.

“I did warn you,” he said.

You watched him saunter away, ready to kill him. You sighed, kneeling down to see if any of the eggs were salvageable. You threw the basket in frustration.

Bucky could explain to the rest of the team why there were no eggs for breakfast tomorrow.

Chapter Text

You were always surprised when you watched Steve in the gym. You tended to spend most of your time doing cardio, but Steve would lift weights for hours on end. You would watch him, trying not to think about how much he was lifting. It was staggering.

You’d find yourself slowing down until you were still, just watching him. It wasn’t the bulging muscles or the sweat soaked shirt clinging to abs. It was how strong he was. You couldn’t help but be impressed as you watched him.

You’d ask him to train you if you didn’t think it was with the help of the super serum that he could do it.

You took to going to the gym at weird times of the night to avoid seeing Steve there. You were jealous of how much he could lift. It was a hit to your ego. Even if he did have help.

It didn’t help that he didn’t seem to realise how impressive he was.

He ran into once, at three in the morning. He walked in, dark circles under his eyes, weary slump to his shoulders. You kept running, looking at him as your feet pounded on the treadmill. He paused, watching you for a moment before giving you a nod and moving over to the weights. He sat on the bench as he consulting the bar.

You stopped running, watching him for a moment before collecting your things and moving towards the door.

“Are you avoiding me?” he asked.

You paused, turning to look at him. He was staring at you with a wry smile on his face. You tried to ignore the way his beautiful blue eyes made your heart flutter.

“No,” you replied, “it’s 3am. I’m going to bed.”

“With all those endorphins running through your body?” he asked.

You shrugged, unable to say anything. He motioned you over and without consulting you, your feet brought you to him. You stopped, looking down at him. He looked up at you, pumping some iron with a half smile on his face.

“How about we work out together?” he suggested.

You snorted. He raised his eyebrows at you but you were already blushing. No one disagreed with the Captain. You turned away, ready to run out of the gym and never return. You could work out somewhere else, or never again. Both seemed a better than staying in the room right at that moment.

“What?” he asked.

“Even if I was the fittest my body could ever be, I would never be able to keep up with you,” you replied, turning back to him.

He opened his mouth then closed it again. You nodded, turning away for what you hoped would be the last time.

“Wait,” he said.

You paused. You listened to a clunk and a few muffled footsteps towards you. A hand landed on your shoulder and you squeezed your eyes shut. Warm breath ghosted over the back of your neck. You were almost certain he was about to chew you up and spit you out again.

“Why have you been avoiding me?” he asked.

“You intimidate me,” you replied without thinking, “you’re so strong.”

He chuckled, pushing you forward with the hand on your shoulder.

“Get some sleep, you’re going to need it if we’re training together tomorrow.”

You didn’t dare disagree with him for a second time.

Chapter Text

There was something to be said for the ocean. It was as beautiful as it was dangerous, a cruel mistress or so they said. You stood watching the waves come in.

“There’s a storm coming in.”

“I know,” you said, watching the clouds rolling in.

A pair of arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you back against a warm body. You threaded your fingers through his, your eyes trained on the dark clouds on the horizon. You sighed, feeling him press a kiss to your temple.

“Buck?” you asked.

He hummed in response, burying his nose in your hair. You laughed, his hair tickling you as it brushed against your neck.

“Why do you own a beachfront house?” you asked, “you don’t seem the type.”

He trailed his lips over the column of your neck, his hands pressing more insistently against your midriff. You lent back against him, threading your fingers through his hair, his teeth scraping against your neck.

“Buck,” you laughed.

“It’ll be warmer away from the window, love,” he said, dragging you away from the view.

You went reluctantly, not wanting to drag your eyes away from the sea and the sky, but it was hard to say no to Bucky. His metal arm had begun to warm up against your skin, still bare from when he’d surprised you out of the shower.

He sat on the couch, pulling you onto his lap. You laughed, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. He pulled the blanket from over the back of the sofa, spreading it over the two of you. You pressed a kiss to his lips, yelping when he nipped at your lower lip. He laughed, pulling you in for another kiss.

“Why a beach house?” you asked when he drew away from you again.

“I thought it would be nice after the city,” he said, “do you not like it here?”

“It’s beautiful,” you said, turning to look at the view more.

“If I’d known that I wouldn’t have bought it,” he muttered.

“Why’s that?” you asked.

“You spend more time looking outside than at me,” he said, pouting like a child.

You cupped his face, kissing him again. He slid his hands up your bare back, tangling his fingers in your hair. You moaned into his mouth, straddling his lap. He pushed you down on your back, hovering over you. You laughed, wrapping your legs around his waist.

You looked up at the crash of thunder. He sighed, burying his head in your shoulder. You watched the rain begin to fall outside. You pushed Bucky off you, padding over to the window. You looked out, smiling at the sheer force of nature before you.

Warm arms were wrapping around you again and you were getting ready to be dragged away again, but instead Bucky rested his chin on your shoulder.

“You ever skinny dipped in the sea during a thunder storm?” you asked.

“No,” he said.

“Would you like to?”

He was out the door before you could say another word.

Chapter Text

When this had started you didn’t realise how big it would get. It had been a simple prank, it should have barley counted. All you’d done was replace Tony’s coffee with decaf. It shouldn’t have been blown out of proportion, every single person in the building being dragged into it.

You definitely should not have ended up with your filing cabinet superglued shut.

And if that hadn’t happened you wouldn’t have retaliated by glitterbombing him, which wouldn’t have involved Clint. That’s when it really got out of control.

Steve was the only one refusing to join in. You thought it might be because he thought he was above it all, being the Captain, the leader of the team. You’d sit beside him, talking through plans with him. Or rather, to him. He didn’t want to get involved.

It had gotten to the point where you refused to be in the same room as any of the team beside Steve. You refused to accept food or drink if you hadn’t made it yourself, you didn’t enter a room without some kind of protection, and you definitely weren’t trusting any of your mail. You’d been burned too many times.

You’d barricaded yourself in your room, refusing to let anyone in. Tony had tried to bypass the security measures, going above your head to use his knowledge of the AI system to get in. He hadn’t counted on you jamming a chair under the door handle. He’d slammed into it, sending you into a fit of laughter. He’d left swearing at the top of his lungs.

A knocked sounded on your door a few hours later. Hesitantly you got up, pressing your ear to the door to try and hear what was on the other side.

“Can you let me in?”

You recognised it as Steve’s voice but you couldn’t trust that it was actually him. You’d seen Tony use technology to manipulate voices. He’d used it to make fun of Clint which had led him to being shot with a Nerf gun, which had led to the great Nerf war of summer. Clint had won. No one had been surprised.

“Please?” Steve asked.

You sighed, moving the chair and opening the door just a crack. It was Steve standing there, unless Tony had made the most realistic Steve robot. If he had you figured it worth whatever was going to happen. You opened the door wider, letting him in.

You stuck your head out the door, looking both ways. The coast was clear. You shut the door again, turning to look at Steve. He was watching you with that bemused smile, his arms crossed over his chest.

“I think it’s time to call a truce,” he said, “you broke Tony’s nose.”

“Technically he broke his own nose. All I did was lock the door,” you said.

“It’s gotten out of hand,” he said, “I poured salt in my coffee this morning.”

“Have you asked Tony to call a truce?” you asked, putting your hands on your hips.

He raised his eyebrow at you, as if to say you were being ridiculous. You did it back, waiting for him to answer him. He uncrossed his arms, dropping them to his sides.

“You think you can distract me with all your handsome to make me agree to do whatever you want me to do,” you said.

“Do you really get distracted by my handsome?” he asked.

“You know I do,” you said, wrapping your arms around his waist.

He chuckled, giving you a kiss. You melted against him, your annoyance forgotten. Until you were doused in cold water. Literal cold water. You drew away from him, pushing your dripping hair out of you face. Tony and Clint were standing in the doorway, laughing uncontrollably.

“Never mind,” Steve said, his shirt sticking to his body, his hair dripping on his face, “we’re destroying them.”

You slammed the door in their faces, jamming the chair back in place. You turned to look at Steve who looked delightfully disgruntled. You tried to ignore the shirt sticking to each of his beautifully sculpted muscles.

“What was your next prank?” he asked.

“Sexier words have never come out of your mouth.”

Chapter Text

You hadn’t considered the weather report when you’d left for work that day. The sky had been a clear blue, the breeze sweet, the birds singing when you’d left home. There had been no reason to think that when you left for work it would be raining cats and dogs.

You had given up dodging from doorway to doorway about two blocks into your trip home. You were soaked through. A little more water wasn’t going to do much. You had your arms crossed over your chest, your hands stuck under your armpits. You felt like an icicle.

It didn’t help that when you arrived outside your apartment building you dropped your keys in a puddle and loudly swore, scaring away a middle aged woman. You’d looked up at the sound of someone laughing behind you. You turned, scowling at the man standing in the doorway.

His hair was hanging in his face, an umbrella swinging from a metal hand, his blue eyes sparkling with mirth. You growled, snatching up your keys and pushing him out of the way to unlock the door. He laughed again, watching you struggle through the door.

“Looking good there, doll face,” the man said.

You huffed, turning back to him. You pushed your hair out of your face, stepping towards him. He seemed more amused at your anger than scared. You shoved him in the chest. He didn’t even move.

“Okay, I don’t know you, but you can take that sexist attitude and shove it so far up your ass you’re tasting it for the next year,” you snapped before turning on your heels and storming to your apartment.

The next day you were smart enough to bring an umbrella to work, ignoring the nice weather outside. You refused to be caught out again, especially if that asshole was there again. Thankfully, the sun stayed shining all day, the clouds staying away. Even better was the absence of the strange man on your stoop.

Then you went out for the weekend, staying out late. You’d considered crashing on your friend’s sofa, but you loved your own bed so much you were willing to pay the cab fair home. It had started raining just as you stepped out of the cab, drenching you almost immediately.

You’d walked up to your apartment, pushing your key into the keyhole, trying your best not to create a puddle on your welcome mat. The door across the hall from you opened, banging against the wall. You turned, ready to tell whoever it was to shut up. It was 3am. People would be sleeping.

Your mouth was opened, all ready to tell them off, only to be greeted by a metal arm and bleary blue eyes. You snapped your mouth shut, meeting his eyes. His eyes, trailed over your body, a smirk appearing on his lips.

“Forgot your umbrella again?” he asked.

“No, I thought I’d shower with my clothes on,” you snapped.

“Next time, invite me and you won’t have those clothes on for long,” he said.

“You’re a disgusting excuse of a human,” you said.

You closed your door on his still smirking face.

Monday afternoon found you standing outside your building, umbrella in hand. Your infuriating neighbour was standing outside, just under the awning. You were holding the umbrella over you, doing your best to not get wet, despite the fact you were standing in a puddle and your feet were soaked. He had that infuriating smirk on his face.

“What?” you snapped.

He shook his head at you. You strode up to him, raising your hand to hit him. He caught your wrist, this time with the human hand, not the metal hand. His fingertips were rough against your skin and for the first time you realised how much taller he was then you.

“I don’t think so, doll face,” he said.

“Why do you insist on being the most annoying human on the planet?” you snapped.

“It makes you furrow your brow in an incredibly attractive way,” he said.

“I am not here for your sick perverted pleasure,” you said.

“No, you’re not,” he replied, “it’s just an added bonus.”

You growled, pushing past him. He followed you into the building. You shook your umbrella at him, enjoying the way he was sprinkled with water. He looked down at his tank top, pursing his lips at the wet spots.

You left him there in the lobby, going up to your apartment. You’d flicked on the light for your living room but nothing happened. You sighed, dumping your bag on the sofa and rifling through your cupboards to find your spare lightbulbs. You stood underneath the blown bulb, realising you were never going to be able to reach it.

You sighed again, rubbing your temple, knowing what you were about to do. You opened your door, walking across the hall, and banging on the door. It opened pretty quickly. You looked up into the surprised face of your neighbour.

“If you change my lightbulb I won’t be calling the police to report a sex pervert living across the hall from me,” you said.

“Lead the way,” he said.

You forced the spare lightbulb into his hand and marching across the way. You watched him replace the bulb, taking that moment to admire his body. You hated yourself while doing it, but you couldn’t deny he was a damn attractive man.

Which is how Bucky seemed to spend so much time in your apartment fixing things for you, despite his continued unappreciated comments. Which led to you sometimes cooking for him when you realised he was living off basically nothing. Which led to him making actual conversation with you and you had to admit he wasn’t so bad. Which led to some very annoying thoughts about how much you wanted to to put your lips on his.

So a month later when you were once again caught in the rain on your way home from work you weren’t surprised when you found him standing outside your building, that smirk that made your heart pound firmly in place.

“Looking good there, doll face,” he said, his eyes raking over your shivering frame.

“Ass,” you snapped.

You began to walk up to the door but he stepped out from under the protection of the awning, meeting you before you could. You expected him to have some kind of wise crack on his tongue but instead he cupped your cheek. He pulled you in, kissing you, long and hot.

When he drew back all you could notice was how soaked he was and how desperate you were to drag him up to your apartment and have your way with him. You kissed him again, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“I believe you once offered to help me with my shower,” you said when you drew away from him.

“Is it broken?” he asked.

“Nope,” you said, threading your fingers through his, pulling him towards the door.

His answering smile was all you needed.

Chapter Text

When you’d taken up the job for the life modelling class you’d tried to ignore that fact you’d be naked in front of a whole room of people. If your mother found out she’d be horrified. That being said, she had never lived in the city and her first job was waitressing at her father’s cafe which was how she paid her rent with some left over. You could barely afford your rent despite waitressing.

You’d gotten over the naked thing surprisingly quickly considering you’d never let anyone see you naked with the lights on. It was easy work and it paid well so you weren’t about to quit. Until he started showing up in your sessions.

You hadn’t noticed at first, used to the feeling of eyes on you. But you’d shifted position when the buzzer went off, turning to face the other way. You’d seen him, sitting there with his drawing pad open, charcoal in his long fingers. He’d glanced up, sparkling blue eyes flicking to your face, a soft smile on his face. You’d blushed.

You’d tried to ignore him but he kept coming back, week after week. His eyes burnt your skin more than any of the other artists combined. You’d try to keep your eyes from straying to him, staring into the middle distance, doing all you could.

You thought it would be fine. It was contained to the art studio, you could compartmentalise it. If you didn’t think about him outside those four walls you were going to be fine. You didn’t even know his name. You were being ridiculous.

You glanced up from the coffee mug you’d been contemplating. There was a tall blonde man at the counter, his shoulders broad, his arms as thick as tree trunks. He was talking to a friend, his voice too low to hear over the general murmur of the cafe.

You turned back to your book, trying to care about the bland characters and their pathetic lives. Your mother had sent it to your, claiming it had changed her life. You thought you’d give it a go but so far it had been a disappointment.

“Good book?”

You looked up, recognising the blue eyes above you. Your heart stopped. You tried to wrangle control of your reaction to his presence.

“It’s alright,” you said.

“You seemed very engrossed in it,” he said.

“My mother sent it,” you said, as if that would explain anything to this stranger.

“Sorry, I saw you sitting here and thought I’d come say hello,” he said.

“You didn’t have to do that,” you replied.

You became increasingly aware that the man standing in front of you had seen you naked, had probably looked at you more intensely than your doctor ever had. You had the sudden urge to cover yourself. You tried to cover it by taking a sip of your cooling coffee.

“If I’m making you uncomfortable I can leave,” he said.

“Is this the girl from your art class you were telling me about?” his friend asked, appearing out of nowhere.

“I’m going to go,” you said, pushing up to get up.

You weaved your way out of the cafe. You’d spent enough time with strange men getting off on the thought of you taking your clothes off in a room full of people for money. You didn’t need another, even if he was incredibly handsome and made your heart beat a little faster.

“Hey.”

A hand wrapped around your wrist, stopping you just a couple of footsteps away from the front door. You whipped around, ready to shout at whoever thought it was a good idea to grab you.

The mystery man had a hold of you.

“You left your book behind,” he said.

“Keep it, it’s terrible,” you replied.

“You said it was alright,” he said.

“I panicked,” you said.

He handed you the book. You looked at it, your fingers running over the words embossed on the cover. You really wished he hadn’t followed you.

“I didn’t tell him you’re the model,” he said, “he thinks you’re one of the other students in the class. He wasn’t making a pass at you.”

“But you’re about to, aren’t you?” you snapped.

“I was going to ask you for dinner,” he said, any mojo seemingly leaving his body.

“Because you like my naked body?” you asked.

“Because you have beautiful eyes,” he replied.

You rolled said beautiful eyes. Sometimes it was hard to tell men that you’d heard every line in the book. You were ready to leave until he he shoved something under your nose. You looked down, not sure what you expected to find.

You took the piece of paper he was offering you. It had obviously been folded and refolded many times and you had to wonder why he carried it around with him. Your face was there, over and over again. Profiles, full frontal, sometimes just your eyes. Nothing ever went further down than your shoulders.

“I think you’re missing the point of the class,” you told him.

“I don’t think I am,” he said.

“Dinner, huh?” you asked.

“I’m Steve.” He offered you his hand which you shook.

He gave you one of those soft smiles you’d seen in class and you had to wonder if agreeing to being a life model might not be as appalling as you’d first thought.

Chapter Text

There was something to be said for art. You’d never truly understood it, viewing trips to the gallery as an oddly inventive form of torture. You’d usually dragged your feet, complaining the entire time until you’d annoyed whoever you were with enough to leave. You ignored them accusing you of being a petulant child. You knew you were a petulant child.

That was until Bucky brought you to this place.

You’d been sitting in front of that painting for longer than was appropriate. Bucky had left you, going to look at the rest of the exhibit while you sat there, staring at the yellow flowers on the wall. You knew it was meant to be an imitation of a Van Gough but you’d never felt that way looking at anything by him.

“Hey,” a voice whispered in your ear.

You titled your head, not turning to look at whoever was talking to you. It was too hard tearing your eyes away from the sunflowers. They were the most amazing thing you’d ever seen.

“We should go.”

This did make you turn. Bucky was sitting beside you, his eyes oddly concerned. You pouted, not wanting to leave. Although, now you weren’t looking at the painting you noticed how hungry you were.

“Fine.”

You took his hand, sparing a last look at the painting as he pulled you away. The sunlight was bright after the careful lighting of the gallery. You squinted, doing your best to see.

“You know, I’ve never seen you concentrate so hard on anything,” Bucky said, pulling you closer to him to avoid someone walking into you.

“Nothing has been so important,” you said.

“I don’t know whether I’m offended or impressed,” he said before pressing a kiss to your temple.

“It was just so beautiful,” you breathed.

He gave you an indulgent smile but didn’t question it. He had to sit you down in a cafe, leaving you to order for the both of you while your mind was still caught up in the sunflowers. You only came back from your thoughts when a club sandwich was placed in front of you.

“Why sunflowers?” he asked.

“Maybe because I’ve never seen one in real life,” you said, “or maybe because I’m very tired.”

“Insomnia again?” he asked.

“It is the full moon tonight,” you replied without missing a beat.

The waitress gave you an odd look as she placed the milkshake down in front of you. You gave her a smile while Bucky roared with laughter across the table from you. You took a sip of the drink, watching as he tucked into his food.

You did your best to ignore the thought of yellow petals and green leaves. Bucky paid for the two of you and led you out of the cafe again, regaling you with stories about Steve from their childhood. You didn’t even notice when he plucked something from a street vendor.

“For you,” he said.

You looked down at the sunflower he was presenting you. You smiled, unable to stop yourself. He gently tucked it behind your ear. You gently cupped his cheek, pulling him down into a kiss. He wrapped his arm around your waist, ignoring as the people behind you yelled at the two of you for blocking the sidewalk.

“C’mon,” he said when he drew away, “I’ll plant an entire field of sunflowers just for you.”

“I don’t think that’ll be necessary, but it’s sweet of you to offer.”

Chapter Text

There was something to be said for the beauty of lightning. You spent most of the time thinking about Thor when you saw it but when you heard the thunder you’d go running. There was something about the loud booms that made your heart beat too fast.

This time found you huddled underneath the blankets on your bed. You had your head buried under your pillow, trying to block out the sound of the thunder crashing overhead.

“Doll?”

You whimpered, not wanting to emerge from your hiding spot. Steve had been out all day, fighting the good fight, or something. You’d been half asleep when he’d left. The storm had awoken you properly, the loud thunder dragging you into a conscious state you regretted entering.

“Doll?”

You whimpered again. A body sat beside you, a hand landing on your back. You moved closer to the warm body, curling around it. The hand began to stroke lazy circles over your back.

“Can I come in?”

“Yes.”

The blankets lifted and a warm body slipped inside. In the brief moment of light you saw Steve’s concerned face before the darkness enveloped you again. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you against a large body. You curled up, burying your nose in his neck. The comforting smell of spices unknown filled your nose.

“Have you been here all day?”

“Yes.”

His arms tightened around you as another clap of thunder echoed through the room. You could feel yourself shivering, trembling in his strong arms like a leaf in the wind.

“Have you eaten?”

“No.”

He sighed, pressing his lips to the top of your head. He didn’t like it when you didn’t take care of yourself, said it worried him more than an alien threat. Every single time you’d laugh it off, assuming he was joking but then moments like this would arise and you’d know he wasn’t.

“Do you want to?”

“No.”

He pulled you on top of his body, tangling his legs with yours. You buried your face in his chest, squeezing your eyes shut as another clap of thunder rolled through the room. He kept his lips pressed to your hairline, running his fingers over your back.

He pushed your shirt up, drawing patterns on the bare skin of your back. You felt your breathing ease as your muscles relaxed against him. He kept pressing kisses to your face.

“Why does it have to be so loud?”

He pressed a kiss to your lips, effectively distracting you until the next bout of thunder. You jerked away, hiding your face in his chest again. He began to run his fingers over the skin of your back again. You shuddered, memories of what those fingers had done the night before flashing through your mind.

“Steve?”

“Yes, doll?”

“Thank you.”

“Anything for you, doll.”

He held you until the early hours of the morning when the storm blew itself out. His arms around your small body were enough to keep you sane every time there was another clap of thunder, keeping you from jumping out of your skin.

He was the only one who had ever put up with you during storms. You loved him so much.

Chapter Text

There was something to be said for being paired up with Captain America. Not only did he always have your back, looking out for you on the battlefield, but whenever a mission didn’t go according to plan he’d make sure you didn’t leave until you were smiling again. You were sure none of the other team leaders put in that much effort into taking care of their teams.

It wasn’t until you talked to some of your other teammates that you realised that Steve didn’t try as hard with anyone else. They didn’t have anything bad to say about him per se, but he didn’t spend any time with them. It made you begin to think, keeping you up at night as your mind whirled over the reasoning.

Which made you vaguely passive aggressive towards your Captain.

“Are you okay?”

You glanced up from where you were trying to tug your boot off. Mud had slid in through the course of your running through the forest and it was refusing to let go.

“I’m fine,” you said, going back to your boot.

He sighed and knelt in front of you, pushing your hands off the supple leather. He tugged on the shoe, pulling it from your foot. You wrinkled your nose, attacking the laces on the other boot. He pulled your hands from them, his deft fingers undoing the complex knot.

“If I’ve learnt anything from Tony, it’s that when a woman says she’s fine she isn’t,” he said, tugging the boot off your foot.

“Does Tony have any other sexists wisdom to share?” you snapped.

You snatched your boot from his hand, standing from the bench you were sitting on. All you wanted to do was have a shower and get rid of the mud soaked socks on your feet. You jimmied open your locker, annoyed with how often it jammed. You shoved your boots in, grabbing your towel.

You turned around, smacking into Steve’s chest. You took a step away from him, your back hitting the cold metal of the lockers. He grasped your shoulders, holding you in place.

“You’re obviously not fine.”

You rolled your eyes. You would have tried to pull out of his hold but you knew he was stronger than you. As far as you knew he was stronger than anyone on the team. Stupid super serum.

“Well, you obviously can’t read signs because I am,” you snapped.

He sighed again, closing his eyes as if frustrated with you. He may be your captain but he was not entitled to knowing your personal thoughts and feelings.

“Can I go, sir?” you asked.

“Not until you tell me what’s wrong,” he replied, opening his eyes.

“Then we’ll be here forever,” you said.

He stared you down until your shoulders slumped. You sighed and crossed your arms over your chest.

“I know I’m the youngest, and I know I’m the smallest, but you don’t have to treat me like I’m made of glass,” you said, “I don’t want preferential treatment.”

“I know you’re not made of glass,” he said.

“Then why do you take care of me but not any of the others?” you demanded, “you’re literally always there, taking the bullets for me. And it’s not like I’m not grateful for that but I’m capable of looking after myself. I’m not useless.”

“I know you’re not useless,” he said.

“Then why are you like this?”

“Because the thought of losing you is unbearable.”

You blinked, waiting for him to say something else, to say it was a joke. He didn’t. You blinked again.

“What?”

He let you go, taking a step back so you could leave. You watched as he sunk onto the bench. You looked towards the exit, then walked towards him.

“I know you can take care of yourself but I would not be able to live with myself if something happened to you,” he said.

“Because I’m the most vulnerable?” you asked.

“Because I’m in love with you,” he said, finally meeting your eye.

You blinked again then smiled. He gave you a hesitant smile in return. You reached out, placing your hand on his shoulder. His hand landed on your hip, pulling you a step closer. You pushed his hair of his face.

“That changes everything,” you said.

“How so?” he asked.

You kissed him. His lips were soft against yours as he pulled you between his legs. You threaded your arms around his neck, wanting to be as close to him as possible. He drew away, blinking slowly at you. You ran your thumb over his lower lip.

“I know you’re bigger than me but I could kick your ass,” you said, “don’t forget it.”

“I won’t.”

He kissed you again.

Chapter Text

You were standing, staring at the windows with your arms folded. You knew there was something wrong, but you couldn’t put your finger on it. You tilted your head.

“Hey,” you called.

Silence was your only answer.

“Steve?” you shouted.

Pounding footsteps echoed through the apartment. You turned your head, watching Steve slide around a corner in his socks. You giggled as he hit the wall before righting himself.

“What is it?” he asked.

“Do these curtains look right to you?” you asked.

He paused, looking at you then to the window. You turned again, considering the curtains. You’d thought they were okay when you saw them but now they didn’t feel right to you. You bit your lip, trying to figure out what was wrong with them.

“I thought someone was attacking you,” he said, stepping up behind you.

“Sorry,” you said.

He slung his arms around your waist, pulling you back against a hard chest. You ran your fingers over his bare forearms. You could feel his breath on the side of your neck, sending shivers down your spine.

“I’m not sure there’s anything wrong with the curtains,” he said.

“No, there’s definitely something wrong,” you said, nodding your head, “I’m just not sure what.”

He chuckled, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. You looked up at him, ignoring his half smile. He only looked at you like that when he thought you were being a little crazy.

“If you’re not going to help you can go away again,” you said.

“You’re the one who shouted for me,” he said.

“I thought you’d be helpful,” you said, pushing his arms off your body.

You watched him take a deep breath in, squeezing his eyes shut. You sighed and turned your body towards him. You reached out, resting your hand on his bicep. He opened his eyes again, looking down at you.

“Sorry,” you said, “it’s just, there’s nothing in this place that is mine and I’m living here now, but it’s all just your stuff and I constantly feel like I’m not a permanent part of your life here.”

You trailed off, worried you’d said too much. You’ never told Steve how often you thought he was about to leave you. He was the great Captain America and you were just a mess of a human.

“Doll…”

He reached out to you, pulling you into a hug. You curled into him, holding him close, burying your face in his chest so you didn’t have to look at him. He pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

“We can get whatever curtains you want,” he said.

“Thank you,” you whispered.

“And you can get anything you want to make this place feel more like your home,” he said, “I didn’t realise you felt that way.”

“You couldn’t know,” you said, “I didn’t tell you.”

His arms tightened around you, another kiss pressed to the top of your head. You kissed the bit of chest you could reach from your hugging position.

“I never want you to feel like you can’t talk to me or that you’re not permanent in my life,” he said, “I’m keeping you forever.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

Chapter Text

You were curled up on the sofa, your knees tucked up under your chin. Your eyes were trained on the television screen, the only light in the dark room. The air was muggy from the space heater in the corner, your blanket draped around your shoulders keeping you almost too warm. You felt disgusting, but that was par for the course at this point.

“Doll?”

You didn’t turn your head, just held out a hand to the man standing in the doorway. A rumpled Steve walked over, his bare feet so quiet on the carpet. He was rubbing the sleep from his eyes as he perched on the edge of the sofa, close enough to thread his fingers through yours.

“What are you doing?”

You tried to put your finger over his mouth but you were sure you missed. Hr chuckled, grabbing your waving hand and putting it back in your lap with a pat. You shoved your feet onto his lap, leaning back against the arm of the sofa and stretching out the kinks in your back, never once taking your eyes from the screen.

“It’s the middle of the night,” he said, “you have to sleep.”

“When this is done,” you said.

He sighed, slinging his arm over the back of the sofa as he settled in to watch the rest of the movie with you. You shoved your feet under his legs, drawing the warmth into your body even though you didn’t need it. He ran his thumb over your bare shin.

“Why are you watching this?” he asked.

“Shhhhhh.”

You watched the black and white images on the screen. You’d seen this movie a million times but when there was a marathon on tv you couldn’t deny it. You slid your arm under the pillow your head was resting on, hugging it as you laughed along with the movie.

“Doll, c’mon, let’s go sleep.”

“You go,” you said, waving your hand at him, “I’ll be there soon.”

He sighed, laying down behind you. His arms wrapped around your waist, pulling your body against his. You curled up, letting him hold you as you focused on the terrible b-movie you’d fallen in love with when you were a teenager.

Once it was done you turned the tv off, plunging the room into full darkness. You could hear the soft snores of Steve behind you and you smiled to yourself, glad no one there to see. You shuffled to turn to face him. You extracted your hand from somewhere between the two of you. You traced your finger down his cheek, his eyelashes sitting on the top of his cheek.

He was deeply enough asleep you knew that if you got up he wouldn’t notice but you didn’t want to leave him on the couch when he’d come to bring you to bed. You pulled the blanket from between you, draping it over both your bodies.

You closed your eyes, resting your head on his shoulder. It was so warm, wrapped up in his arms like burrito. You let your body relax, knowing you’d regret sleeping on the sofa in the morning but not caring. Right now all you wanted to do was sleep in your Steve’s arms.

Chapter Text

It took you a while to notice but Bucky liked to say he didn’t have a conscience. It was never much of anything, never anything to specifically draw your attention. But after so often you began to take notice.

Most often it was right before he did something sweet. He’d look at you with those big inquiring eyes and you’d give him one of those small nods and he’d do something so incredibly sweet you’d fall in love with him all over again. You’d get so swept up in the sweet that you wouldn’t realise he was scared of doing the wrong thing.

You thought it had to do something with his past. With so many years having other people in his head, telling him what to do, all kinds of terrible things. It must have left some intense scars.

It was during a walk in the park that it twigged. You had your arm threaded through his, watching the ducks by the lake. He’d tugged away from you, reaching up and plucking a balloon out of the air. You’d turned, wondering what he was doing.

You could see the child crying a little further down the path. You looked at the balloon and the child and put two and tow together.

“Are you going to give it back?” you asked.

“I should, shouldn’t I?” he asked in return.

“Buck?”

He walked away from you, holding out the balloon out to the little girl. He glanced back at you as she took it from him. Her mother thanked him and he gave a shy smile to the little girl. She was still hiccuping through her sobs and was hiding behind her mother’s legs. Bucky gave an awkward nod to the woman and walked back to you.

“That was nice,” you said, threading your arm back through his.

“Was it?” he asked.

“Of course,” you replied, “you did your best to stop her crying.”

“Is that what I was doing?” he asked.

“What did you think you were doing?” you asked.

“Returning a lost item.”

You chuckled, pressing your face into his shoulder. He didn’t laugh along with you in the way you were used to when he was joking. You looked up at him, noticing the crease between his eyebrows.

“You did a good thing, Buck,” you said.

“I did a good thing,” he repeated.

“Buck?”

You looked up at him, waiting for him to explain something to you. He spent so much time inside his head, thinking things you couldn’t even begin to imagine. He rarely let you in on what was going through his head. You thought he either was trying to protect you or didn’t think you wanted to know. Either way you wished he’d tell you.

“You know you can tell me anything,” you said.

“I know.”

You stopped, pulling him to look at you properly. You reached up, pushing his hair from his face. He gave you a quick smile and you gave one in response. You cupped his cheek.

“You’re a good man, Bucky Barnes,” you said.

“I’m not sure I am,” he replied.

“You try, and that’s what counts.”

He shook his head, pulling out of your hold and continuing walking. You threaded your arm through his, continuing your walk. You could feel how unsure he was, how every time he did anything he couldn’t be sure if he was making a mistake. You didn’t know how to help. All you could do was be there for him.

Chapter Text

There was nothing quite like lying on a picnic blanket, staring up at the clouds scudding by in the bright blue sky. The air was sweet, softly blowing over your skin. Your head was resting on your arm as you traced patterns in the clouds with your fingers.

“That one looks like a dragon,” you said, tracing over the edges of the picture.

You heard a chuckle in your ear, smiling along. You continued to try and find pictures in the sky, the leaves of the trees sending shadows over your face. You could hear the birds in the trees and the bees buzzing over the flowers. This was by far the nicest place you’d been taken.

You turned to look at the sparkling blue eyes shining from the man lying beside you. He was grinning at you, his hand reached out to three through yours. You laughed, rolling over to curl around his body. You put his arm around you, pulling you closer. He pressed a kiss to your temple.

“I know they’re just water vapour, but clouds are so pretty,” you said.

“I suppose they are,” Steve said, “but nothing compares to you.

You flushed happily and rolled over to face him. You leaned up, pressing your lips to his. His arms wrapped around your waist keeping you against him as the heat rose between you. You straddled his waist, your hair falling around your faces, keep the rest of the world from interrupting.

His hand slid up your spine, pushing up your shirt to drag his fingers over your skin. You gasped into his mouth, his tongue plundering your hidden depths. You couldn’t stop the moan from tumbling from your lips. His fingers dug into the flesh of your hips hard enough to leave bruises to be discovered later.

You were glad there were no people around to stumble upon the two of you. You hadn’t been sure when Steve suggested you spend time in the countryside for the weekend but once you saw how beautiful it was you couldn’t argue with him. Now you thanked your lucky stars you were far from civilisation, able to spend this time with him alone.

He pulled away from you, his fingers stroking over the bare skin of your back. You looked down at him, trying to get your breath back. He was looking at you like you were some kind of angel. You bit down on your lower lip.

“The day I met you was the luckiest of my life,” he said.

You flushed again, sitting up properly, putting your hands on his chest to steady yourself. He grasped your hips, keeping you in place as you looked down at him.

“I think I’m the lucky one,” you said.

He pulled you back down, kissing you deeply. He rolled, pinning you beneath his body. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pressing yourself to him wantonly. You wanted him, in every sense of the word. He curled his arms around you, his hands running over your body, sending electricity over your skin.

“I think we should move inside,” he said.

“Why?” you asked, tugging on his hair to pull him back towards you.

“There’s a storm on the horizon,” he said, “and I can’t promise this will be quick.”

You let him pull you up with little more than a promise of a pleasurable afternoon.

Chapter Text

The water was beautiful. You were sitting on a rock on the side of the waterfall, watching it fall into a large crystal clear pool. You’d been watching Steve wading in the shallows until he’d laid himself in the sun, falling asleep like a cat on a windowsill.

The water was sparkling, a paradise in the middle of a forest. The air was warm against your skin. You hadn’t wanted to go swimming while Steve was watching. There was something intimidating about stripping off in front of someone who had such a perfect body. But you were itching to slip into the water.

You chanced a glance at Steve. He was snoring softly, his eyes closed. You smiled to yourself, pulling your shirt and shorts off. You looked at Steve again, shaking your head at your boyfriend. You stepped down, into the cool water.

You walked forward, wanting to get in as quickly as possible. The sunlight glinted off the water, inviting you further in. The rocks were smooth beneath your feet and a few small fish darted around your ankles. Once it was deep enough you dived in, kicking until you were in the centre of the pool.

You surfaced, floating on your back to soak up the sun. You closed your eyes, listening to the surrounding forest. It was calming, the buzz of insects, the chirp of birds.

A pair of arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you down into the water. You struggled, kicking back against whoever had a hold on you. The arms released you and you kicked to the surface. You spluttered, expelling the water you’d inhaled when you were grabbed.

You spun, ready to hit your assailant. Steve was there, pushing his wet hair out of his eyes, laughing. You hit his bare chest, ignoring the path water droplets were cutting down his skin. He grabbed you around the waist again, pulling you against him.

“Boo,” he said.

“That’s not funny, Steve,” you said, pulling out of his hold.

“Sorry, doll,” he said, “couldn’t resist.”

You set your jaw and dived into the water, swimming away from him. A hand grasped your ankle. You kicked out at Steve, too annoyed to let him make it up to you.

You rose in the shallows, the water streaming off you. You walked over the smooth stones, pushing your hair out of your face. You turned at the edge of the pool, looking back at Steve to make sure he wasn’t following. He was standing, watching you, his eyes dark and his fists clenched.

“Doll.”

You huffed and turned away. You could hear the water as Steve moved behind you. A wet, hard body pressed against your back, arms slithering around your waist. You grabbed the arms, ready to throw them from your body until a pair of lips pressed to your neck.

Despite your annoyance, you arched your neck as a warm tongue followed a droplet of water over your skin. You moaned, your nails digging into the skin of arms you were recently so ready to throw from you.

“Were you trying to hide this from me?” he asked, his voice husky in your ear.

“Hide what?” you managed to get out.

“Your body,” he growled, lifting you out of the water and carrying you back to your rock.

He set you down, pushing his way between your legs to grasp your hips in a bruising hold. You threaded your arms around his neck, not sure if you really wanted to be pulling him closer. He’d never been like this with you before.

“You’re so gosh darn beautiful,” he said before kissing you again.

You wrapped your legs around him, pulling him closer. His tongue swept over your bottom lip and you opened up to him. You moaned into his mouth, pushing your fingers into his hair.

He tore himself away from you. You gasped, almost falling off the rock as you lent towards him. He patted your knee and stepped out of reach. You whined but he chuckled, shaking his head.

“Not here,” he said.

‘But,” you tried to say.

“When it happens it’s not going to be on a rock,” he said.

You reached out to him again and this time he went. You curled your hand around the nape of his neck and pressed a chaste kiss to his lips. You trusted him.

“Good thing there’s a natural cold shower here,” he said.

You watched him walk back into the pool and dive under the water. You laughed as he reappeared under the spray of the waterfall, pushing his hair from his eyes. You slipped off the rock and swam towards him. He wrapped his arms around your waist, laughing with you under the cold shower of the waterfall, the water sparkling around you.

Chapter Text

Being ordinary sometimes made you feel as if you were unimportant. Being out with the Avengers made you feel invisible. You had no powers, had saved no one, were as useful as a rug in a carpeted room.

It didn’t help that you felt as if you couldn’t talk about it with anyone. Your complaints were so tiny compared to the lives they were living, how could you ever compare?

You wouldn’t even be there if it weren’t for Steve. All you’d done was serve him coffee every morning for a month, doing your best not to be another fangirl to roll his eyes at. He’d asked you out, interestingly, for coffee but you hadn’t been able to say no. He won you over with that smile.

Now you felt as if you were losing part of yourself.

You knew they didn’t mean it, that they didn’t want it. You couldn’t go out with Steve without him being stopped for selfies or autographs. You’d be pushed to the side, forced to watch the adoration poured over him. No that you think he didn’t deserve it. He did. Obviously.

It was just that your achievements paled in comparison, were so underwhelming that you couldn’t even begin to feel good about them. You felt like you were losing part of yourself, fading into the background, becoming less of a person.

You were sure Steve had noticed. You’d get silent and sullen and retreat into yourself. You didn’t want to worry him but it was hard.

Until he walked in on you crying in the middle of the night.

You were sitting on the living room floor, back to the door, knees to your chest. You had tried to be as quiet as possible, not wanting to wake him. There’s been a documentary on tv that night that he’d been embarrassed about but you’d watched, smiling at him every time it recalled you with tales of his accomplishments. Once the pride had left you’d been hollow.

You hadn’t noticed him until he’d wrapped his arms around you, pulling you against his chest. You had tried to struggle, tried to get away from him, wiping your eyes, doing nothing against the tears still falling down your cheeks. He’d made shushing noises, holding you close.

You turned around, burying your head in his chest. He pressed kisses to the top of your head, murmuring words of comfort into your hair. You clutched him, your fingers twisting in his shirt.

“What’s wrong?” he asked once the tears had abated.

You shook your head, embarrassed to admit how you were feeling. This was not something you had ever wanted him to know. This was your problem to handle, not his.

“Tell me,” he said, kissing your hairline.

“It’s nothing,” you said, moving back to wipe your nose on the back of your hand.

“It’s not,” he said, “or you wouldn’t be crying your eyes out like this.”

“It’s stupid,” you replied.

“I don’t care. If it hurts you it hurts me.”

You took a deep breath, pulling yourself out of his hold. If you were going to do this, you needed to do it on your own two feet.

“I love you, more than anything, but I feel like I don’t know who I am anymore,” you said.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“Being with you, it’s amazing, but sometimes it’s lonely, and sometimes I feel small,” you said, “I don’t even have my work anymore because it wasn’t secure enough for you. I don’t have anything except you.”

His shoulder slumped and he pushed his hands through his hair. He looked lost, like he didn’t know how to help.

“Are you saying you don’t want to be with me anymore?” he asked.

“No, god no, but,” you didn’t know how to explain it properly, “something needs to change because I can’t keep living like this.”

“Is it my fault?” he asked.

“No. Maybe. I don’t know.”

He looked defeated. This was the battle he didn’t know he’d have to fight, the battle he couldn’t have prepared for. You felt terrible for putting him in it. He sat there, not saying anything. So did you.

There was nothing either of you could say.

Chapter Text

You’d fallen into a rut. Wake up, go to work, come home, try to cook, eat whatever horrible concoction you’d created, watch tv, go to sleep. It was boring and you constantly felt tired. You didn’t have the energy to change anything. You needed and injection of energy into your life.

You didn’t expect to get it at the library.

You’d been sent over to return some books for your boss’s kid. You were standing at the slot, pushing the books through, wondering how long you could stretch out something so simple. Sitting in the office was soul sucking. There was no window, only fluorescent lighting that washed you out.

You’d glanced up, over at the reading area. A man with long dark hair was sitting there, one leg crossed over the other, book dangling from long fingers. You’d blushed, looking down again. You ran your fingers over the brightly coloured cover of the last book. You pushed it through the slot.

A pair of bright green eyes were looking at you. You averted your eyes from the attractive man, turning to leave. You paused, looking out on the sunlit street. You really didn’t want to go back to the office. You turned on your heels and walked into the stacks, wondering what you were doing. You didn’t have a library card, didn’t have time for reading these days.

You ran your fingers over the plastic covered spines. Your attention wasn’t captured by any of them. You kept wandering up the stacks, trying to kill time. You rounded the corner, smacking into a hard chest. You looked up, your eyes dragging over a dark shirt. A pair of green eyes were sparkling down at you, a sly smile on a pale face. You blushed and stepped back.

“Sorry,” you muttered, stepping around him.

“Did you find what you were looking for?”

His voice was like velvet and you almost swooned at the English accent. You shook your head, your hair falling in your face. You pushing it behind your ear and tried to move past him. He put out an arm to stop you.

“May I make a suggestion?” he asked.

You nodded, not willing to tell him you weren’t really here to borrow any books. You didn’t know how to admit you were just avoiding work.

You followed him like a meek puppy. He obviously knew his way around the large building, walking with confidence as he led you through the winding labyrinth. He ket glancing over his shoulder as if worried you were going to disappear.

He stopped and reached up, pulling down a thin book. He passed it to you. You ran your fingers over the embossed title and flicking through the pages. He’d handed you a book of poetry.

“Perhaps when you have read it we could discuss it over dinner,” he suggested.

“That would be nice,” you said, pushing your hair behind your ear again.

You signed up for the library once he’d disappeared into the bowels of the library and checked out the book of poetry. You took it back to your depressing office and poured over the pages. You found a small bit of paper inside with a time and restaurant name on it. He’d obviously slipped it in before handing it to you.

This was the first time your mundane life had brought you anything good and the first time in a long time you were excited about anything. It was nice.

Chapter Text

“But you’ve been to space,” you said, “what’s it like?”

“Dark.”

“That’s it?”

“And beautiful.”

“That’s more like it.”

“And incredibly dangerous.”

You rolled over, kicking your legs into the air. Loki had his arms behind his head, looking up at the night sky. His eyes were glazed over and you could tell he wasn’t really seeing the night sky. You nudged him in the side and he looked over at you, flashing a smile in your direction.

He pulled you towards him and you sprawled over his chest. His ran his fingers through your hair, tugging through the tangles he’d put there earlier. You laughed.

“Why are you asking about space?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” you said, “I just think it’s cool.”

“You think space is cool?” he asked, with that twist of his lips that made you know he thought you were being amusing.

“Always have, always will,” you replied.

He chuckled as he kissed you, his lips so soft and yielding against yours. He rolled you over, his arms around your head as he kept his weight off you. He looked down, his hair falling around the two of you, blocking out the rest of the world.

“Why?” he asked.

“It’s just something I’ve never experienced myself. And it’s beautiful. And all these amazing things happen out there. And it’s not here.”

“You could come to Asgard,” he suggested.

“You’re home?” you asked, joy filling every single one of your cells, “can I see where you grew up?”

“If that is what you would like,” he said.

You pulled him into a kiss and he settled his weight against you. You tangled your legs with his, threading your fingers through his hair. He nipped at your lower lip and you laughed again, breaking away from him.

He rolled off you, laying back down to look up at the night sky. You settled against him, your head on his chest as you traced patterns on his stomach. He held you close, his hand a comforting weight on your hip. You looked up at the stars, trying to trace over the few constellations you knew.

“Would you like to travel through the stars?” he asked.

“Is that an option?” you asked in return.

“Maybe.”

You sat up, looking down at him. He was grinning at you and you felt a thrill of excitement. You felt a smile overcoming your face. He sat up too, wrapping his arms around your waist. You put your arms around his neck.

“Is that how we’re going to go visit your home?” you asked.

“That may take a long time, my dear,” he said, “but once we’re there we can go visit some nearby planets.”

“Really?” you asked.

“We can do whatever you wish, love,” he said.

“Can we swim?” you asked.

“Of course.”

“And you can show me that famous library?”

“As you wish.”

“And alien planets?”

“Anything you want.”

You kissed him again. He fell back, pulling you back with him. You landed on his chest. He pulled back, pushing the hair off your face. He was glowing with a smile on his face.

“Anything you want,” he said again.

“Right now, all I want is you.”

You kissed him again.

Chapter Text

You’d originally suggested it as an idea to get Bucky out of the house. You hadn’t expected for months later it to take over his life. These days if you wanted to find him you had to go looking for him in the garden.

Gardening had kept your grandmother busy once she couldn’t work anymore. Your father had really gotten into it when he’d lost his job. You had thought it would help him feel busy, instead of hanging around the house annoying you. You hadn’t wanted to stop seeing him completely.

Which is how you found yourself wandering around your large garden aimlessly, hoping you’d stumble across him.

You were amazed at the transformation. In such a short time the amount of colour, the amount of beauty surrounding you had sprung up. You’d never imagined your garden could ever look so beautiful. You hadn’t realised you’d missed this kind of garden until you got it back again.

There was colour everywhere. The flowers were in full bloom, planted in patterns that made your head spin. It was all so intricate, so well thought out and planned. You knew Bucky was crazy smart despite hiding behind his guns. You just didn’t know it could be like this.

“Hey.”

You jumped, not having noticed Bucky sitting in the shade of one of the bushes. He had a book open in his lap, dirt smudged over his cheek. You stepped over the flowers as best you could, trying to get closer to him. You sunk down into the soft grass in front of him, tilting your head back to catch the sun.

“Were you looking for me?” he asked.

“Always,” you replied, blinking your eyes open again.

He pushed his hair off his face, leaving more dirt on his face. You reached out, brushing it away for him. He caught your hand, threading his fingers for you.

“Buck, I had no idea,” you said looking around.

“No idea about what?”

“No idea it was like this,” you said, “you have a gift. A real gift.”

You saw his proud grin spread over his face despite the fact he ducked his head. You gave his hand a squeeze and he looked at you again.

“It’s beautiful,” you said.

“Not as beautiful as you.”

You flushed but didn’t look away. You needed him to know how amazing you thought he was, how proud you were of him. He made you glow and looking around you couldn’t stop the smile on your face.

“You amaze me every single day,” you told him.

He tugged you closer. You crawled into his lap, pushing the book out of the way. He tangled his hand in your hair and you leant forward, kissing him. He held you close, his lips soft against yours. He always made you feel so loved, like you were the most precious thing in his life.

“I’d be lost without you,” he said once you’d drawn away.

“Show me everything you’ve done,” you requested.

You let him show you around the garden, explaining all about what he’d planted and how he’d positioned everything. It blew your mind how talented he was. He really did amaze you.

Chapter Text

There wasn’t much you could say about Loki, except that he always treated you with kindness. You weren’t sure why, given you should have little to do with him. You spent most of your time dealing with the filing system in the bowels of the building.

You didn’t understand why he kept visiting you, bringing you drinks and food, keeping you silent company as you worked. It’s not that you were bothered by his presence, but from the gossip you’d heard he was standoffish and annoyed with every other person in the building.

But with you he was nothing but lovely.

He was good for when you needed something that was too high to reach or too far in a drawer. He was fantastic at deciphering bad handwriting and decoding abbreviations. He was almost magical at understanding the documents from the 70s.

You had no idea why.

You didn’t try to engage him in conversation, or prattle on about pointless things. All you wanted to do was keep your head down and get your work done. You didn’t even say goodbye at the end of the day, your bed the only thing you could think about.

You weren’t friendly. If anything you were the standoffish one, trying your best to convince him to leave you alone all day. That just seemed to egg him on further.

And then one day he asked you out for dinner and everything clicked. He was trying to win you over. All the kindness, all the hours, all the help, it was all to win you over and go on a date with him. You said no. He didn’t stop.

It became a habit. Every morning he’d come in with a coffee for you and a question on his lips. Every morning was the same, you’d take the coffee and say no. It never seemed to deter him. If anything, it made him work harder.

Until one day you realised he’d stop asking eventually. And you realised how much you really did enjoy his company. And you didn’t want him to leave.

“Dinner tonight?” he asked, handing you the cup of coffee.

You took a long drink from it, calming your nerves. You’d been up half the night, thinking about this moment, imagining all the ways it could go.

“Sure,” you said, aiming for a casual tone. You were glad your voice didn’t shake.

He looked taken aback for all of a second before his face broke out in a smile. You offered your own in return before hiding it behind another drink of coffee.

“I’ll collect you at the end of the day.”

“I’m not a parcel,” you replied, “aren’t you spending the day here?”

“I am required to help my brother today,” he said, “don’t miss me too much.”

“I’ll live.” Your tone was dry and you turned away.

He put his hand on your shoulder, turning you to look at you. He brushed some hair behind your ear, and tapped your nose. You wrinkled it but your face relaxed into a smile.

“I’ll bring you lunch,” he said.

He kept being kind to you after that dinner. You stopped minding it. And you stopped minding his presence.

Chapter Text

There was something so intimate about holding a piece of paper with handwritten words from your love. Holding a piece of their heart, of their thoughts, it sent a pleasurable shiver down your spine. Nothing made you feel as loved as when you received that envelope.

You didn’t like being apart from Steve. You knew he had to go away, that the only way for him to live with himself would be to hide Bucky away. You knew he couldn’t agree to answering to the government, that he couldn’t have anyone order him anywhere. Not after the war.

It didn’t make it any easier.

You missed him every day. You never knew where the letter would come from, which corner of the globe he was hiding out in. But holding he had held in his hands made you feel closer to him.

You’d mull over the paper for hours. You’d read over every single word with an intensity you hadn’t realised was within you. You’d go over ever sentence again and again, trying to squeeze as much meaning out of them. You’d run your fingers over the pen marks, imagining Steve sitting there, pen in hand, crafting phrases to let you know how he was feeling. The bundle of letters hidden under your bed were your most prized possessions.

Or so you thought until there was a knock at your door.

You’d opened it, assuming it was one of the team checking up on you. They kept doing that, you were sure on the demands of Steve. They spent so much time wandering around your home, checking there was food in the fridge and that you’d dusted.

You looked up, assuming you’d see Nat or Wanda. Instead your eyes kept going up, searching for the face you knew had to be there. You saw a pair of sparkling blue eyes and you felt the blood drain from your face.

“Steve?”

The answering grin was enough to send you launching yourself into his arms. He held you tight, burying his face in your shoulder. His newly grown beard scraped against the vulnerable skin of your neck. You were laughing uncontrollably, almost sobbing as you clutched him.

He manoeuvred the two of you back into the house, kicking the door shut. It was still exactly the way he’d left it, waiting for his return.

“I can’t stay long,” he said, “they’ll know I’m here before long.”

“Don’t say that,” you said, refusing to let him go.

“I’ve missed you more than you can imagine.”

He cupped your face, dragging you into a desperate kiss. You couldn’t stop yourself melting against him. He was all you wanted, all you’d ever wanted. The way you’d missed him was a physical ache in your chest. It was soothed for now, while he was within reach.

“Don’t leave,” you asked, “please.”

“I can’t promise that.”

You kissed him again, as if that would convince him to stay. You didn’t want him to ever leave you. You loved his letters, but him in the flesh was better, was always better. You hated being apart from him.

Chapter Text

The world was bathed in silver light. You were sitting on the porch, looking out, a mug of steaming tea clutched in your hans. You had a blanket wrapped around your shoulders, your knees close to your chest. You looked out on the still world.

You hadn’t been able to sleep, all the things you had to do that week going through your mind. You couldn’t stop your brain whirring, and so you’d decided to get up instead of tossing and turning. You didn’t want to wake Loki up with your tumultuous mind.

You could hear the house settling behind you, all the weird noises that had once scared you now was comforting in the silence of the night. You took a sip from your tea, sighing as you looked up at the full moon.

“Are you going to come back to bed?”

You looked behind you. A rumpled Loki was standing in the doorway, shirtless and rubbing at his eyes. You turned back, looking out on the lake. You knew tomorrow you’d have to be staying in the city for the rest of the week.

He sat down beside you, pulling the blanket around his shoulders. You cuddled up against him despite his cool skin. He took your mug, taking a long drink of the tea. You rested your head on his shoulder.

“There’s so much to do this week,” you said.

“Do you wish for me to join you?” he asked.

“You’ll do as you wish,” you replied, “but I’ll miss you if you stay here.”

“I hate the city.”

“I know.”

He passed the mug back and you drank from it. He tightened his arms around you, pulling you almost into his lap. You brushed his hair out of your face, burying your face in his neck. He ran his fingers up and down your bare arm, leaving goose pimples in their wake.

“I love the moon,” you said.

“I know you do.”

“You can never see it in the city,” you sighed.

“Don’t go.”

“I can’t,” you replied, “it’s my job.”

“I hate the city.”

“So you’ve said.”

You pulled out of the blanket, standing up and walking down the porch steps. You stood on the grass, digging your toes into the dirt and turning your face up to the moon. You closed your eyes, basking in the light. A pair of cold arms wrapped around your waist, a chin digging into your shoulder.

“Stay with me tomorrow.”

“I can’t risk my job,” you said, “or do you not want food?”

“My brother will not allow us to starve,” he said.

“I thought you didn’t want to rely on Thor,” you replied.

“I wish for you to stay here with me,” he said, “even if I must rely on my brother for help.”

You threaded your fingers through his, leaning back on his chest. He pressed a kiss to the exposed skin of your neck. You shuddered.

“You shall miss the moon if you do go.”

“I know.”

“Stay.”

“Okay.”

Chapter Text

Sometimes it felt as if there were two Lokis. There was the one you knew in private, when it was just the two of you, and there was the one you saw when anyone else was with him. When it was you, the two of you hiding away in a private nook, he was the sweetest person you’d ever met, caring and sweet, taking care of you and telling you how much he loved you.

When there was any other person he would become vicious. He wouldn’t look at you, wouldn’t look at you, wouldn’t acknowledge your existence. He would sneer at the others, lash out at them with his words. A black cloud would surround him and you’d wonder why you had ever wanted to have anything to do with him.

When you’d met, you hadn’t realised who he was. He was just the sweet man at the cafe who offered to pay for your coffee. For a long time you didn’t see him with anyone else. You knew he lived with his brother, knew he didn’t get on with him, knew he preferred spending time in your apartment. You hadn’t thought much of it.

And then you were forced to go to an event with him and you saw the switch, saw him at his worst. You had gone home and cried, ignoring his calls and his texts. You hadn’t been sure if you should stay.

But the sweet words won you over and you let him back in.

Some days you regretted it. You got on with some of the Avengers, after you’d gotten over the star struck phase of the first couple of meetings. You hated you couldn’t merge the two parts of your life. Loki resisted it, refusing to even talk about it with you.

And then you got into a fight about it and you told him if he kept being stubborn he could get out of your life.

You were done tiptoeing around him. You had friends you wanted to spend time with, that you wanted to talk about. He could be like a child with separation anxiety, being unhappy and brooding when you’d go out to see the people he refused to like. You knew he’d be able to get on with them if he gave them a chance.

He’d reluctantly joined you when you visited the Avengers. You got on with his brother more than he liked, knowing you’d been passing on information to him. After he’d moved in with you, Thor had lost all idea of what his brother was doing.

He’d made an effort though. Even if he was sitting there, refusing to talk, arms crossed over his chest, you appreciate he was there. And he let you rant about things that your friends were doing and ask his advice. And even though he was still acting like two different people, you loved that he was willing to show up purely because it made you happy.

And he did make you happy. Both of him.

Chapter Text

You had your arms crossed, staring out over the field in front of you. Something was wrong, very wrong, and you weren’t sure why. There was nothing to suggest anything weird had happened over night, nothing to suggest anything had changed. It was nothing more than a feeling in the air.

“What are you doing?”

You barely acknowledged the man standing behind you in the doorway. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from the field. You needed to know what was different. You stepped down off the wooden porch onto the dew soaked grass. It was cold against the bare skin of your feet.

“Steve,” you heard called into the house.

An arm wrapped around your shoulders, stopping you from walking all the way into the field. It wouldn’t be the first time you had gotten lost in those tall stalks.

“What did you guys do last night?” you asked.

You looked up into his surprised face. It was almost too surprised, too innocent. You shoved his arm off you and walked towards the field.

“Buck, come help,” he called over his shoulder.

A metal hand closed around the delicate bones of your wrist. You stopped, having seen that hand crush twigs to powder. You could only imagine what it could do to your bones. You turned around.

“What’d you do?” you asked.

A body rushed out of the tall stalks, stumbling when it arrived on the soft grass. You looked down at the young man who’s mother had rented you the house. He must have run the entire length of the field, his house on the other side. He was breathing hard, his face flushed. His shirt clung to him with sweat.

Steve hauled him to his feet, brushing him down. You looked at this man, the vestiges of childhood still clinging to him. You’d had little to do with him, leaving it up to Steve to deal with the family on the other side of the field. He could charm the pants off an angry hippo.

“What is it, son?” he asked.

“The aliens,” he gasped, “the aliens have come.”

You rolled your eyes. It wasn’t the first time you’d heard people out these parts talk about the alien abductions, the way people had been convinced the aliens were coming to take over the world. You’d met aliens before. They weren’t that bad.

“What makes you say that, son?” Steve asked.

“You can see the circles from the roof,” he said, still in need of breath, “I was up there with my little brother. The circles are there in the field, plain as day. The aliens landed here last night.”

“And have you told anyone?” Bucky asked.

The young man flinched back, his eyes flickering down to the silver appendage hanging at his side. He grinned, slinging the metal arm around your shoulders. You would have rather if you weren’t brought into this. You were missing the warmth of the kitchen already. Your feet were cold.

“Only my ma,” he said.

“Well, you should tell the world,” he said, “old man Rogers down the road is waiting for this day.”

The young man nodded and ran off, giving Steve a cheery wave. You watched him go, reminded of how your younger brother had barrelled through life with the same goos humour as that young man. You wished you knew his name.

“You made crop circles last night, didn’t you?” you said with a sigh.

The answering kiss to your temple told you enough. Steve was laughing, and arm around your waist. Bucky had that shit eating grin on his face. You sighed, shook your head, but couldn’t stop the smile on your face. Every day was a new adventure with these two.

“Breakfast,” Steve said.

“Yes,” Bucky agreed.

“Were you trying to prank me or everyone else?” you asked, letting them lead you back towards the house.

“Didn’t matter as long as someone reacted,” Bucky replied.

“But we were hoping for you,” Steve replied.

“Breakfast,” you said.

Their answering grins were enough.

Chapter Text

There was plenty to be said for dating the god of mischief. You were always sure to have fun, you were never bored, and you could be certain you’d be getting into trouble with at least one person every time you did anything. Every day was a new adventure in annoying people. You never wanted it to end.

Until you became the one he had annoyed.

The day had started normally, waking up in his arms, your alarm blasting in your ear. You’d rolled out of his hold to turn it off, struggling to is it up from under the mountain of blankets you liked to sleep under. You stumbled into the bathroom, already dreaming of the warm spray of the shower.

You’d hurried off to work, just enough to time to kiss Loki while he was still half asleep. He’d promised to take you out that night. He knew you’d wanted to go to the new pizza place on your street for ages so you’d felt a thrill of excitement all day.

You’d opened the door to the small apartment with an unconfined smile. It had fallen from your face pretty quickly.

Loki was sitting on the floor of the apartment, legs crossed, furrowed brow. That was normally enough that it wouldn’t have been a concern. What was a concern was the mess he was surrounded by. You entered the room, the door clicking shut behind you.

His head snapped up to you, panic settling on his face. You could feel your face flushing and tears gathering in your eyes as the fire rose within you.

“Is that all the furniture from this room?” you asked.

You might have been able to laugh it off if your grandmother’s coffee table wasn’t missing. It was the only thing you’d inherited when she’d died. If he was destroyed it you would kill him.

“Not all of it,” he said, rather hesitantly.

“What’s missing?” you asked.

“The armchair is in the kitchen,” he said.

“And why is the armchair in the kitchen?” you asked.

“That’s where it landed,” he replied.

“After what happened?” you asked.

“My brother came for a visit,” he said, acting as if that was enough to explain to you why your living room was in ruins.

“So?” you asked.

“He dislikes me spending my nights here,” he said.

“And?” you asked.

“He suggested you live with me where he can keep an eye on us,” he replied.

“So you decided to trash my home?” you asked.

He stood, surveying the mess around him. You could see the legs from the coffee table, the shattered glass, the vestiges of the furniture you’d grown up with. It was all you’d had left.

“I am sorry,” he said.

“Get out.” Your voice was hard, leaving no room for arguments. You couldn’t bare looking at him, couldn’t bare even considering his existence. This was beyond mischief, beyond fun.

“I am able to fix it,” he said.

“Then why haven’t you?” you snapped,

You moved further into your home. The tv was lying in the corner, the screen shattered. Your sofa had been pulled apart, stuffing lying over the mess like a fucked up version of snow. Books were torn up. And in the middle of it all was Loki, his face pale but his jaw set.

He clicked his fingers, everything beginning to fix itself. You watched as glass repaired, wood reattached itself, stuffing flew into empty cushions. It was an amazing sight. He walked into the kitchen, retrieving the lost armchair. He set it down in its usual place.

“Thank you,” you said, “now get out.”

He looked as if he was going to argue but them his shoulders slumped. He shoved his hands into his pockets and walked past you. You watched him go, impassive and unimpressed.

For the first time you’d been on the receiving end of his inconsideration for others’ feelings. You refused to put up with it. You knew in a few days you’d go see him, probably make up and let him back in. But for now you needed time to figure out where the boundaries were, how much you were willing to put up with.

All you knew right now was that he had crossed the line.

Chapter Text

You hadn’t realised it was so obvious to Steve. You tried to keep it hidden, having been ridiculed by it from past boyfriends. You thought you could suppress it, that it wouldn’t matter. You thought it was shameful, that you couldn’t let Steve find out or he’d leave you.

It hadn’t taken much. He’d been sparring with you, teaching you how best to fight. You knew you needed some self defence knowledge, with the people you spent time with.

You’d thrown a punch, hitting his palm. He grinned at you, dropping his hands. You pushed your hair out of your face, ignoring the sweat on your skin.

“Good girl,” he said.

Your reaction was almost instantaneous. Heat curled in your stomach and a flush flew over the skin of your cheeks. You bit on your lip, averting your gaze down, not sure you wanted to look at him while you were feeling that way.

He let you go, leaving you to shower and dress. You walked away, taking your time in the shower to wash those feelings away. You tried to was away the images of him calling you a good girl as he fucked you.

He didn’t bring it up for the next few days, making you think he’d either forgotten or hadn’t noticed it. It made you feel relieved, knowing you wouldn’t have to explain your weird behaviour.

Then he said it again.

You’d made him a cup of coffee, nothing special. You’d handed it to him, your fingers brushing against his as he took it from you. He took a drink from it, groaning with pleasure.

“Good girl.”

You stiffened. Heat flooded your blood and you were sure you were a blushing mess. He looked up at you with questioning eyes. You retracted your hand, turning around and shuffling back into the kitchen.

You didn’t notice him follow you until he grasped your hips, pressing his chest against your back. He lent forward, his breath ghosting over the shell of your ear. You shivered, already feeling oversensitive.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

You nodded, not daring to look at him. His fingers tightened on you, hard enough to leave bruises in the flesh of your hips.

“Are you lying?” he asked.

You nodded again. He chuckled, so low and dangerous. He pushed you forward, pinning you against the kitchen bench. You laid your hands on the counter, glad for the cool temperature against your heated up skin.

“Good girl.”

You pressed your legs together, trying to ignore the wetness building between your thighs. Your breathing was erratic. His beard scraped against the vulnerable skin of your neck as he pressed his lips to your ear.

“Are you going to keep being a good girl for me?” he asked.

“Yes,” you moaned.

His teeth clamped down on your earlobe, tugging on it. Your legs turned to jelly and you had to bite down on your lip hard enough to draw blood to stop the whine from leaving your mouth. He chuckled again and et you go.

“Good girl.”

He left you there, a trembling mess. If he had wanted to he could have taken you right then and there. You pushed away the shame curdling in your stomach.

Later that night he proved how little shame you needed to feel for your little praise kink.

Chapter Text

“I’m sorry.”

Bucky looked up from the book resting in his lap. He was stretched out on the sofa, legs crossed. He pushed his hair off his face. You’d been avoiding him for most of the morning, feeling awkward. He’d tried to kiss you that morning, made you breakfast, been sweet until you’d locked yourself in bathroom.

“What for?” he asked.

His blue eyes were wide and questioning. He was so sweet to you, sweeter than you deserved. You were twisting your fingers together.

“For how I’ve treated you this morning,” you said.

“How have you been treating me?”

He reached out for you, stilling your hands. He threaded his fingers through yours, tugging you towards him. You let him, pushing your hair behind your ear.

“I had a weird dream and I’ve been treating you badly,” you said.

He ran his thumb in circles over the back of your hand. He tugged you further towards him. He grabbed your hip with his hand, the cool temperature of the metal seeping through the material of your leggings. You looked down.

“What kind of dream?” he asked.

“You with another person,” you said.

“Doing what?” he asked.

“Having sex,” you replied.

He tugged you down onto his lap. You landed with a squeak, not expecting to be literally pulled off your feet. He wrapped his arm around your waist, one hand coming up to cup your cheek.

“I would never do that,” he said, “I hope you know that.”

“I do,” you said, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry.”

He kissed you, gentle and chaste. You pushed your fingers into his hair, never wanting to let this man go. He drew back, pressing his forehead to yours. You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath in.

“I would never do anything to hurt you,” he said, “never.”

You opened your eyes. He was looking at you, the love so intense. You bit your bottom lip, watching his eyes flicker down then back up. You felt warmth flush your skin.

“I’m sorry for being so weird,” you said.

“Stop apologising.”

He kissed you again, this time hotter, more intense. You couldn’t stop the gasp that tumbled from your lips. His arms tightened around you, pressing your body against his. You felt yourself melting against him, your body totally under his control.

He drew back and you whined. He chuckled despite his dark eyes and the fingers digging into you hard enough to leave bruises. You lent forward to kiss him again but he pushed you back.

“You don’t need to apologise to me,” he said, “not about your feelings.”

“But I don’t have to be passive aggressive about it,” you replied.

“Next time just tell me,” he said, “just be honest with me.”

“I can do that,” you replied.

He kissed you again, any thought of him cheating leaving your mind. He was yours, totally and completely. And you were his.

Chapter Text

Captain America was a symbol of hope to the nation. Steve Rogers was a symbol of hope to you.

You hadn’t realised who he was the first time you’d met. You’d been taking the trash out for the restaurant you worked in when a group of men had cornered you. You were sure you were going to die, terror seizing your body so you could barley keep yourself upright.

You’d watched with wide eyes as one of them wall felled, then another. A dark shadow had appeared, taking down the rest of the men. You’d stood there, trembling, back pressed against the wall. You were couldn’t think, couldn’t form words. You could have thrown up.

A tall blonde man stepped towards you. You shrunk back on weak knees, sure something worse was coming for you. He lowered his face, looking down at his feet.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

You couldn’t say anything. There were no words, your body no longer under your own control. You felt yourself slip down the wall.

A strong pair of arms caught you, holding you upright. You felt a warm hand touch your cheek then your forehead. You couldn’t focus on the man holding you up, couldn’t focus on anything.

“You need to breath,” he said, “you’re safe now.”

He lowered you to the ground, pushing your head between your legs. You took a deep shuddering breath in. Tears began to pour down your cheeks. You curled up on yourself, fighting for breath.

“Can I get someone for you?” he asked.

You shook your head, worried if he left someone else would come along and hurt you. You reached out to him and he let your hold his hand as you tried to calm yourself. You couldn’t do it.

“Can I take you somewhere?” he asked.

You shook your head slowly, not sure you’d be able to move. Your fingernails were digging into his hand as you tried to get yourself under control.

“It’s okay.”

It took a while but you eventually got your breathing under control, the tears dried up. You finally looked up, startled to find the most handsome man in front of you. His blue eyes were full of concern as they scanned your face. A deep sense of embarrassment settled in your stomach.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“Yes.” Your voice was soft, scratchy, not quite there, “thank you.”

He helped you to your feet, steadying you as you wobbled. He walked you through the back door into the kitchen of the restaurant. You thanked him again, ignoring the questions from the other workers. You wanted to forget it, to go home and sleep and never think about it again.

He walked you out too, staying by your side until you were out on the street despite you telling him you were fine. He got you a cab, put you in it, lent through the window.

“If you’re ever feeling unsafe again, call me,” he said, handing you a torn bit of paper, a mobile number scribbled in pencil, “any time of the day or night. It doesn’t matter.”

He disappeared before you could thank him, before you could say anything. You turned to watch him grow smaller as the taxi pulled away. He was watching you, arms crossed, body alert.

He showed up the next night to make sure you were alright and every night after that.