Fanfic Reading Nook

***

You rush down the hall, excited for your night out with a group of your non-Avenger friends. You make a point to see your other friends as often as you can to balance those relationships with your ones on the team. After all, living with the Avengers means that you see them all the time, but being an Avenger is not all there is to you. Walking into the main room you're surprised to see Loki sitting at the kitchen counter, just kind of staring at nothing.

"You alright Lo?" You ask him carefully. Your question seems to pull him out of whatever trance he was in.

"I'm fine." He says, though his face isn't convincing.

"Okay? Happy staring- I'm going out so- I'll see you later then." You frown heading over to the main elevator. Loki's not exactly close to anyone in the tower except Thor, and even that he'd argue is false but you always make a point to include him even when the others ignore him a bit. As you ride down to street level you can't help but wonder what has him so pensive up there by himself. On the street, waiting for a taxi to flag down, you can't get yourself to shake Loki from your mind so- reluctantly you dial one of your friends.

"Y/n!" Your friend's excited voice practically yells down the line.

"Hey! Listen, you know I hate to do this, and I wouldn't if it wasn't important, but I'm not going to be able to make it out tonight, something's come up. I'm okay, I just can't come. You guys have fun! I want loads of pictures and a play-by-play once one of you returns to life tomorrow yeah?"

"Aw we're gonna miss you!"

"Ditto! But I'll see you guys soon! Tell the girls I said hi!" You say.

"Of course! Take care, and call if you need anything!"

"Same to you!" You blow a kiss as you end the call and sigh. "Dammit Loki." You roll your eyes as you turn around and go back inside. You ride the elevator back up to the main floor where Loki is still sitting at the counter. You knock on the counter in front of him and grab a bottle of water from the fridge.

"Aren't you meant to be going somewhere?" Loki's eyes narrow at you.

"I was, but I called my friend on my way down and she's actually not feeling too hot so we decided it'd be best to reschedule once she's feeling better." You shrug. You know better than to tell him you cancelled your plans because you saw him moping at the counter. He'd flip at the first possible hint of you pitying him, even though that isn't what this is.

"I see."

"Do you want to watch a movie or something?" You offer.

"What?" He scoffs.

"Well- I was supposed to be spending time interacting with people tonight and that fell through but I'd feel kinda bummed if I spent the whole evening alone now after all the mental prep to be social so if you can be so terribly bothered to hang out for a bit I'd- value that." You say. Loki looks you over as he considers your words and then he sighs.

"I suppose I could spare a few hours, but only because I can't stand watching you mope around the tower the way you do whenever you're disappointed, it's pathetic. But this favor is a huge inconvenience to me I just want you to know that." He says and you have to fight the urge to smile. You know the show of bravado is for his own sake more than anything, and you're willing to let him have it, but it's funny to think of how much rationalizing he's doing to convince himself it's alright to spend time with you.

"Your sacrifice is both duly noted and greatly appreciated. I can offer you compensation in the form of a meal or freshly baked cookies." You say. Loki's eyes light up very briefly at the offer of cookies, he'll never admit it out loud but he loves your baking, he always eats almost half a tray when you make them.

"You know Midgardian food has very little appeal to me, but I suppose a batch of cookies will do." He says with feigned disinterest.

"Do you want them now or at a later date?"

"I have no interest in dragging this out, so now would be better."

"Alright, give me five minutes to change, I'll make you some cookies and we can throw on a movie." You smile at him. You change out of your dress and into a hoodie and shorts. Twenty minutes later you're sat with a tray of cookies and a few other small bites with some random sitcom on the TV.

"I don't understand the point of this. Is there even a plotline?" Loki scoffs.

"Yes but only a little one."

"A little one?"

"So there are a number of shows that you can throw on and watch out of order with little consequence. Like if you do watch every episode in order there is a throughline of like character development and life changes but if you jump into, let's say, season 3 episode 2, you'll just see some funny little antics that are mostly inconsequential and chances are will not come up again until maybe the finale where they recount all their little goofs over the years." You explain.

"Why?"

"Mindless entertainment? It's nice to have something to watch that you don't have to be aware of watching." You shrug. "Lots of shows have complex storylines and characters that need to be paid attention to in order to comprehend what you're watching. Sometimes you don't want to do all of that." You shrug.

"If you don't want to think about what you're watching, why watch anything?" He frowns.

"Pass the time, fill the silence, any number of things. Like we have one on but we're talking now so we're not really paying it any attention, but because it's a sitcom we're not missing anything vital because there's nothing vital to miss. And when this conversation lulls to a stop we'll just tune back in and pick up wherever it's at."

"Your Midgardian habits are very strange." Loki hums.

"What do you do when you're bored and want to be entertained without much effort?" You ask him.

"That specific phenomenon I'm not quite familiar with. If I'm bored, I read, practice spells, on Asgard there wasn't much time for boredom." He shrugs.

"Well, things are different on Midgard. And seeing as you hate everyone and everything about this place you may find yourself well acquainted with that specific phenomenon sooner than you might think." You say.

You gotta say you're pretty proud of your ability to interact positively with Loki. When he first started living here you never would've guessed you'd be watching movies and having silly conversations like this. He's always been rather closed off from the team but perhaps that's something you can actually work around.

*~*~*

"Loki!" You call when you catch him in the hall.

"What?" He rolls his eyes.

"Are you busy?" You ask.

"Why?" His eyes narrow suspiciously.

"Well I was meant to go to the aquarium with Thor today-"

"Thor is on Asgard." Loki says.

"Yes exactly." You nod. You weren't meant to do anything with Thor today, but it seems the key to the trickster god is minor deceptions.

"Did he forget you were going to this 'aquarium' today?"

"It would appear so. Which- I'm not mad about really but these tickets did cost money and I can't exchange them for another date so I was hoping you'd be able to replace him that way the ticket doesn't go to waste." You explain to him.

"You don't have anyone else you could ask?" He huffs.

"Not on such short notice." You shake your head.

"How short is short notice?"

"We need to be there in forty minutes."

"Oh you have got to be kidding me." Loki scoffs.

"If you come with me, when we get back I'll bake you a batch of cookies." You offer. It seems to be the easiest way to get him to do things. You watch Loki contemplate for a moment before he caves to his inner discussion although you're not sure there was much of a debate once you offered baked goods.

"Very well, I'll go so you don't waste your money, but you can't keep bringing your nonsense to me in exchange for cookies." He says.

"Of course not!" You smile knowing damn well you will be doing it again if you see fit. Loki will never admit to enjoying your company or wanting you to make him cookies, but considering he always accepts your offers and never truly complains when you're together, you know the irritation is only a front. "We'll leave in 15 minutes 'kay?"

"Very well." He says. You head back to your room to get yourself together and 15 minutes later you meet Loki by the kitchen.

"Ready Lo?" You ask.

"Yes let's get on with it." He says. You loop your arm through his as you leave the tower and you're surprised he doesn't protest the contact, but you won't bring it up. At the aquarium, you excitedly talk about all your favorite exhibits as you walk from section to section. "So what was the plan exactly?" Loki asks.

"What?"

"With Thor, why were you bringing him here in the first place?"

"Oh! Well because there's a lot he still wants to learn about Earth so I've been trying to take him places where he can learn a number of things at the same time." You shrug.

"And how is that going?"

"We've done the zoo and a couple of museums already so I'd say not bad. Oh, we're by the jellyfish, you should see the touch tank!" You say.

"The what now?" Loki frowns. You grab his hand and lead him to the shallow tank of water off to one side.

"This is a touch tank. These are jellyfish, they're like 95% water and don't have brains, some of them are dangerous, but these ones are pretty harmless and you can touch them! Only on the tops of their heads though. Like this." You lift his hand up and push down all but two of his fingers and then slowly, you guide his hand into the water. "You have to be gentle." You tell him softly as you let his fingers touch the top of a moon jelly in the pool. You turn to Loki with a small smile only to find him already looking at you very intensely.

"I'm quite gentle when I want to be." He says quietly. You step back a bit and clear your throat, dipping your own fingers in to touch a jellyfish for yourself.

"Well I hope you want to be gentle with the moon jellies. This is one of my favorite things here." You tell him.

"So anyone can just walk up and pet the jellyfish?" 

"Yeah! Isn't it cool?"

"Sure." He nods.

"Wait till you see some of the other Jellyfish they've got here! They're insane!" You take his hand again and walk further into the jellyfish exhibit.

"They have more open tanks of creatures?"

"Oh- no all the other Jellyfish are in closed tanks." You giggle.

"Just as well, you said some are dangerous, no?"

"Well, yes, but aren't they just so beautiful?" You say looking at one of the tanks.

"Breathtaking." Loki says before he can help himself. He clears his throat, lucky you're so captivated with the floating water creatures that you don't even notice his eyes on you as opposed to the exhibits.

"Thank you for coming with me." You tell him.

"You bribed me."

"True- but you still could have said no. Especially since you're not even a fan of our, how do you say it? 'Mediocre Midgardian food'."

"Yes well, you pout when you're disappointed and it's incredibly displeasing to see. The whole tower suffers your moods. And while Midgardian food is mediocre yours is- the least. Plus I can rub this in Thor's face."

"I see you really weighed those pros and cons." You chuckle.

"I must. If I'm to disrupt my entire afternoon on such short notice." He shrugs. You roll your eyes and pull him through to the next exhibit but the smile on your face can't be hidden.

~*~*~

You hum to yourself as you enter the tower library.

"Good morning Loki." You say immediately spotting him on one of the lounge chairs. He's always in here, it's like his sanctuary and over the last few weeks you've found it easy to interact with him.

"It's 3pm y/n."

"It's morning somewhere Lo, time is arbitrary, don't be a grump." You shrug.

"What are you doing here anyway?" He rolls his eyes.

"Utilizing the insane collection of books we have considering there's only like 3 people living here that would ever pick up a book for from here."

"You've been coming here a lot lately."

"Why should you be the only one taking advantage of this big otherwise undisturbed room?"

"The best part of this room is that none of you come here."

"If you want to not run the risk of having to interact with anyone who lives here to might I suggest your room which has a lock on it." You smile brightly.

"Very funny." Loki scoffs.

"I thought so too!" You snap back. Loki gives you a dry look.

"Must you be so-"

"Charming? Witty? Adorable?"

"Not quite the adjectives I would've chosen." He says.

"Well next time finish your sentence." You wink at him.

"Are you trying to get under my skin?"

"Of course not! But it's pretty easy."

"Why must you bother me?" His eyes narrow.

"Maybe because you like talking to me more than you want to admit."

"And why would you think that?"

"Because you always do."

"Do what?"

"I'm sure you can figure that out." You say turning to leave the library.

"Do what y/n!?" He calls after you. "You didn't even get a book!" He shouts as the library doors close behind you. Loki frowns to himself for a moment and then decides to contact the only person he'd ever go to for advice on any subject. A looking glass spell slowly brings Frigga to life above his palm.

"Mother." He gets her attention.

"Loki?" Frigga picks up her looking glass with a smile. "Hello my darling boy. So lovely to hear from you. Thor tells me you're well."

"In the physical sense, yes." Loki nods.

"What troubles you my dear son?"

"I think Midgardian women might be more confusing than those on Asgard." Loki says.

"A woman? Do you feel for her?"

"Don't be ridiculous mother." Loki's words come out as a breathless chuckle.

"It is not ridiculous. She plagues your mind. Why, if you do not feel for her?"

"Truthfully I'm not sure." He frowns.

"Have you considered that you feel for her?"

"How would I know?"

"I believe the fact that you are asking may perhaps be a strong indicator already. This girl, do you see her often?"

"She lives here so yes." He nods.

"I mean intentionally darling." Frigga smiles.

"What?"

"Walking past her in the hallways is not quite what I'm referring to."

"Oh- well she's the least insufferable person here so- sometimes, yes. Though it's usually her bribing me to do things when her other plans fall through."

"What do you mean?"

"Well she invited me to this water creature house they call an aquarium a couple of weeks ago because Thor forgot he was meant to go with her."

"Are you sure Thor was meant to go with her?" She asks.

"I don't follow." Loki shakes his head.

"I wonder if this girl is playing tricks on my trickster." Frigga smiles knowingly.

"Do you overestimate her or underestimate me to believe I could be outsmarted by a mortal?"

"It is not a blow Loki, be calm my son. She plagues your mind when she is not there, she has made her way to a spot many people never have the pleasure of knowing within you. I believe she has stolen your heart and even you do not know it yet."

"What makes you think that?"

"In all your years Loki you have never once asked me about a girl. And this one seems to have you quite... wrapped."

"I resent that notion." He scoffs.

"What made you contact me?"

"Well she was-" Loki stops himself, his mother has already decided Loki is a goner, perhaps he shouldn't feed her any more information.

"She was with you Loki?"

"I spend a lot of time in the library. She came by and we had a short conversation that's all."

"What did she say?" Frigga asks.

"She thinks I like her more than I do. Or rather more than I will admit. I asked her why and she refused to answer."

"Well- what would lead her to believe that?"

"I have no idea." Loki scoffs.

"How is your relationship with her different than with the others?"

"I don't speak to the others. I only speak to her and Thor."

"Tell me about her."

"She is- happy, but not like Thor- his happiness is loud and aggressive she is- a calmer happiness. She seems to be crucial to the peace in this madhouse. Not for me, for everyone. She's also frustratingly smart, she has a comeback for everything and- it's nice to feel as though someone on this dreadful planet can match me- even if I find it vexing at times. Also she bakes- I don't quite enjoy Midgardian food but her treats are quite good though I refuse to tell her that-"

"I'm sure she knows." Frigga says with a soft smile.

"Why are you smiling like that."

"If you could see your face when you speak of this girl you would know like I know that your heart is no longer yours."

"My heart is very much still-"

"No darling. You may not realize but your mind has already given your heart to her. Follow your heart to her. Allow yourself to go there. It will do you good and you deserve it."

"Mother I cannot." He shakes his head.

"You can, and I suggest you do soon. If you do not tell her she has your heart you risk her unknowingly breaking it. Though I sense she is more aware than you may think. Certainly she's more aware than you are."

"You keep saying that-"

"There was no day planned with Thor. I would bet money she wanted to go with you, but you are a tricky thing. To catch fox you must think like one."

"What do I do mother? If you are right and this girl does have me, what do I do?" Loki asks.

"Be kind, be honest, be true. Don't wait too long." Frigga warns.

"Don't wait too long?" He frowns.

"Yes child, that woman will not wait forever for you to wake up."

"What if she is not waiting?"

"You misunderstand. I'm not saying she is waiting on you to come to your senses what I'm saying is that affections change one day she may not enjoy your time as she does now, someone serious may woo her and you miss your chance entirely, stars forbid it but something could happen to her or you. Do not get in your own way Loki, you have a tendency to do that."

"I do not get in my own way."

"Loki." Frigga says, leveling her son with an unimpressed look.

"I will consider your advice mother thank you." Loki cedes.

"Good. I will expect an update soon so be prepared for me to check in."

"Of course mother. Take care."

"You too my son." Frigga sets her looking glass down and Loki disconnects his end of the spell with a sigh. If Frigga is correct, Loki has much to consider, and rather quickly based on her warnings.

*~*~*

When the door to the library opens you don't bother looking up. The book you're reading is far too interesting to stop mid-page.

"What are you doing?" Loki jumps when he walks passed you. You look up momentarily, debating how badly you want to make a stupid joke.

"I'm practicing my backhand spring." You say flatly.

"You're sitting on the couch?"

"I'm also holding a book and yet you asked what I'm doing. I don't know what answer you expected honestly." You shrug.

"I just meant you're not usually sitting around in here."

"Is reading in the library that odd to you?" You chuckle.

"Well- no. I was just expecting the library to be empty." He says.

"Would you like me to leave?"

"Why would you offer to leave? You were here first."

"Yeah but I can read anywhere. Your hermit tendencies limit your spaces far more than mine."

"I am not a hermit." Loki rolls his eyes.

"Of course not." You hum.

"I'm not. I just have no desire to waste my time having unintelligent conversations with the uncultured morons that live here."

"Well don't let me bother you then."

"Not you, the others. And you can obviously stay."

"Why thank you for deeming me worthy enough to stay in your presence." You quip dramatically.

"It's not as if you care what I deem anyhow."

"True, that was sarcasm. Happy reading." You turn your attention back to your book and though Loki would like the conversation to continue he can't think of anything to say to justify pulling your focus from the book you're so clearly captivated by. You're in the library with your book for a few more hours and during that time Loki cannot help the way his eyes wander to you every so often, he doesn't even realize it's happening at first but once he does his mother's words that have been in his head for the past 2 weeks ring even louder.

~*~*~

"Y/n!" Wanda practically sings as she walks, no from the sound of it she's skipping, over to you at the kitchen island.

"Yes Wanda my dear?" You chuckle, setting your sandwich back on its plate.

"You know our coffee shop?"

"Around the block?"

"Yep!" She nods.

"What of it?"

"Well I heard through the grapevine that someone who works there has a crush on you."

"You heard- through the grapevine?" You quirk up an eyebrow at her.

"Cassie told me."

"How did you end up in that conversation?" You chuckle.

"Not the point, we should go down there!" She suggests excitedly.

"I'm eating a sandwich-"

"Not right now, tomorrow morning."

"You wanna tell me- who this mystery crush is? Because I'm not going anywhere if you don't tell me." You say biting your sandwich.

"It's Elliot."

"Oh he's cute-"

"Wanda." Vision calls as the main elevator arrives.

"Soooo we'll game plan when I get back?" She asks walking backwards.

"Fine." You shake your head and chuckle as she disappears in the elevator with Vision. You take a bite of your sandwich, presumably alone again, only to hear a throat clearing from behind you. You look over your shoulder to find Loki the source of the sound.

"Oh hi Loki." You say covering your mouth.

"Hello." He mutters.

"What brings you out of hiding today?"

"I'm not a hibernating bear you know."

"Of course not." You hum. Loki opens the fridge to grab something to drink, although it's mostly just so he can convince himself to bite the bullet and confess to you before this 'Elliot' from the coffee shop has an opportunity to turn your head like his mother warned him of.

"Do you have a moment? I know you're- eating but I'd like to talk- about something." He says awkwardly.

"Sure. I can use multiple senses at once. What's up?" You ask taking another bite of your sandwich. Loki opens his mouth a couple of times before he frowns. "Is something wrong Loki?"

"I don't know." He says, brows furrowed as he looks at the floor.

"You don't know if something's wrong? Are you dizzy? Dehydrated? Feverish? Do you need to sit down?" You sit up, concerned.

"No, I don't."

"You sure? You look kind of- constipated. I think you should sit down."

"I don't want to y/n." He grits out.

"Okay, calm down no need to get angry with me for caring."

"You said I look constipated!"

"Well you do! But only a little bit!"

"This is not going at all how I planned it?"

"What are you on about Loki?" You frown.

"Nothing it was just way easier to do this in my head."

"Easier to do what?"

"Never mind. Enjoy your lunch." Loki pivots and you almost knock over your barstool trying to stop him from leaving the kitchen.

"Not so fast god of mischief tell me what it is you're so panicked about."

"It's nothing y/n." He rolls his eyes.

"Nonsense. If it were nothing you wouldn't have made such a big deal out of it in the first place." You tell him.

"Yes, I over reacted, which is what I just realized and why I'm no longer interested in having this conversation." He says completely avoiding your gaze.

"Don't be a coward Loki." You snap.

"I beg your pardon?" His eyes widen.

"Don't be a coward. I've never known you to shy away from sharing your thoughts even when nobody asked don't tell me suddenly you're incapable of speaking your mind."

"I am far from incapable." He says.

"So spill it." You push.

"And if I don't?"

"Then you're not who I thought you were."

"Over a personal thought?" His eyebrow raises.

"It's the principle. What have you got to lose that makes you so fearful of your own voice?"

"Something I didn't even realize was important to me until recently." He says quietly.

"What's that?" You ask. Loki's eyes scan your face for a long moment, and if not for how close you are you'd swear he's holding his breath for how shallow it is.

"You." He whispers.

"I'm not going anywhere." You shake your head.

"I'm afraid you may take that back if you hear that which I refuse to say." He says.

"Is the reward worth the risk?" You ask.

"If I'm lucky."

"I'm disappointed that you see me as someone so easily run off Loki."

"That's not what this is." He shakes his head.

"No? It sounds like it."

"Do you see me as somebody that could be loved?"

"Of course I do. Thor loves you unconditionally. Your mother too from what I've heard."

"Do you see me as somebody that could be loved, by you?" This question is far more hesitant.

"Is that what you want?"

"In time, yes." He nods and a stray giggle escapes your lips.

"That's what you thought would drive me away?!" You shake your head. "Maybe you haven't noticed but I put quite a bit of effort into creating time to spend with you."

"Oh come on it's mostly coincidence, your friends canceling or Thor forgetting you had plans."

"You silly trickster. I chose to spend that time with you." You say.

"To be clear- does that mean you're as taken with me as I am with you?" Loki asks.

"You're taken with me?!" You blink at him in shock.

"Yes was I not clear about-"

"I'm joking Loki I just wanted to hear you say it directly." You smile.

"You vex me." He breathes out.

"And yet you like me anyway. Even more than I expected."

"Don't boast."

"How can I not?" You ask.

"I can think of a few ways to stop you."

"You can try Loki but I'm not so easily swayed." You taunt. Loki's hand comes up to your cheek and he kisses you. His lips are soft and he kisses you as if he's got all the time in the world. When Loki pulls away your eyes flutter open with surprise.

"How's that for sway?" He smirks.

"I'll admit that wasn't a terrible start." You breathe.

"Oh yeah?" Loki lifts you into his arms suddenly and you squeal in surprise as he carries you to his room. He lays you gently on his bed and kisses you again. "Not a terrible start is not enough." He hums trailing to your neck, peppering your throat with kisses and light nibbles. Loki pulls your shirt over your head. "Stars above you're beautiful." He mutters trailing his fingers delicately across your newly exposed skin.

"I'm not a flower you know." You giggle, the soft touches making you feel ticklish.

"What do you mean?" He frowns.

"Nothing bad. You're just being much more gentle than I'd have expected." You tell him caressing his face. He pauses for a moment as you trace his features.

"Do you remember what I said at the aquarium?"

"About the hammerhead shark reminding you of-"

"No about being gentle you silly girl." He says with a disbelieving chuckle.

"Oh! Yes that you can be when you want to be."

"Precisely."

"I didn't realize it applied elsewhere."

"Do you not like gentle?"

"Gentle is good." You shake your head. "Just unexpected." You smile. Loki returns your smile and leans down to press kisses down your abdomen. He pulls your shorts and panties off together, kissing your calf ones you're freed from the fabric. Loki's eyes are on you as his lips glide up your leg, opened mouthed kisses until he reaches your thigh where he bites at the skin, just enough for you to feel it. With one last kiss to your hip, Loki buries his face in your heat. You gasp at the first feel of his tongue against your center. His movements are unhurried as he watches your reactions to his mouth. When he finds the rhythm that you react the strongest to he sticks to it, enjoying the whimpers and moans he pulls from you and the way your body grinds against him.

"Oh god." You pant, one hand tangling in his hair. When you feel two of his fingers slowly glide into your entrance and curl upwards your eyes shoot open with a whine that makes Loki hum against you. You glance down at him, surprised to see his green eyes peering up at you with something akin to adoration shining in them and despite the pleasure building in your belly all you can think about for a brief moment is how... pretty he looks. Of course, that train of thought is lost when Loki wraps his lips around your clit, focusing his attention on the sensitive bundle of nerves. Between his tongue and his fingers you don't have a chance of staving off the orgasm that washes over you soon after. Loki works you through it, only pulling away when your breathing starts to steady.

"You are a vision in the heat of release you know." He says a hand on your chin to guide your attention.

"No, I did not know that." You smile reaching up to undress Loki. You pull his shirt over his head, littering his chest with kisses as you undo his pants but don't pull them down. You slip your hand into the waistband of his underwear stroking his hard hot dick.

"F-fucking hell you might be the death of me." Loki breathes out shuddering beneath your touch.

"I sure hope not. I quite like you alive you know." You joke with a giggle. Loki grabs your wrist and shakily pulls your hand from him.

"Right, if this goes on I'll embarrass myself." He says with a slight chuckle shifting to pull his pants down enough to free himself. He lines himself with your entrance and slowly works himself passed your walls with short rolling thrusts, deeper each time.

"That's nothing to be embarrassed about you know Loki." You tell him, admittedly a bit winded as he fills you.

"Maybe not, but I'll admit it's not ideal for our first time together." He groans as he bottoms out.

"Don't get caught up in expectations Loki." You tell him.

"Only my own darling." He says. Loki holds still for a few moments, allowing you to adjust to his size, only moving when you begin to grind against him.

"Move, Loki, please." You groan. Loki lets out a breath as he starts a steady rhythm. He's immediately a string of groans and curses in your ear as he fucks you, his sounds mingling with yours beautifully.

"Gods you feel even better than I could've imagined." He pants out between thrusts.

"Don't stop baby. God you feel so good." You moan, grinding up against his hips to meet his movements. Loki reaches between your bodies and his fingers find your clit, rubbing tight circles against the bud that turn your quiet moans to loud whines.

"Come on darling, I want to feel you cum on my dick. Please y/n- let go for me." Loki coaxes, kissing at your throat again and it doesn't take long for your body to tense with the feeling of another orgasm. Loki groans deeply as your walls tighten around him from your release.

"Did you like that Loki? Feeling my pussy clench from cumming for you? You're close aren't you? Come on baby, cum for me."

Loki's thrusts speed up a bit, then falter, and stall altogether moments later as you feel the heat of his release inside you. Loki kisses your shoulder gently as he comes down from his orgasm, your fingers stroking his hair a comfort he wouldn't have thought he'd enjoy.

"You know- I know you were trying to get me to stop boasting but if boasting always ends with us like this I'm inclined to do it more often." You say after a few moments of silence and Loki chuckles against your neck.

"Boasting is not a prerequisite my darling." He says sitting up. Loki conjures a damp cloth and gently dabs first your face, then your neck, and carefully between your legs before helping you into his shirt.

"Well what is?" You ask.

"There isn't one you tricky girl." He chuckles pulling you into his chest.

"How am I the tricky one here?"

"You caught the fox, I think that's worth some tricky points."

"What fox? Are you the fox?"

"Mhm." He nods.

"Well- then that's by far the best thing I've ever caught." You smile up at him.

"The fox isn't complaining either." He hums and you cuddle closer to him. This hadn't exactly been your original gameplan with Loki but this is way better than any outcome you could've expected.

For a second, he was tempted. There was no one, after all - but just as he was stepping closer, Sam entered the kitchen, glancing at him and moving to grab a sweet.

“You can have one, you know?” Sam started, noticing Loki's scowl towards the chocolate treats. “Wanda made them for everyone to enjoy”

“I do not eat mortal things” It came out automatically from Loki's mouth, as if rehearsed time and time again.

Sam shrugged, “You do you, man, more for me”

As Loki moved away, no one noticed you, hidden behind a corner and listening to the whole interaction. You knew Loki would have eaten one if alone, but he was always depriving himself in front of others - and he was a hard nut to crack. You felt the desire to do something: there must be a way to let Loki enjoy some sweetness in peace. It was sad that he felt the need to deprive himself of something he clearly wanted to try.

Then, an idea: if he weren't going to bring himself to the sweets, you were going to bring the sweets to him. And as you walked back to your room, you laughed at your own joke.

The first time, you started with something easy: candies. You sneaked up to his room and left a little bowl - not many - just to see how he reacted. Loki was confused at first, but then, after looking around for a second, he picked up the bowl, hiding in his room. When you found the bowl back in the kitchen after a few days, you knew you had been successful.

Then came the time of the brownies, to which Loki was still quite suspicious. He did check with his magic though, and nothing foul was afoot. After the brownies, it was some cake: a fruit one and then a chocolate one. Some chocolates, cupcakes and so on.

For months you left him little treats and with time he looked less and less confused and more and more pleased. You didn't even check on him anymore, sure that he was finally enjoying his sweets in the quietness of his solitude.

One day, though, things changed: it was you, in fact, that found some cookies outside your room.

You blinked at them, trying to understand. Did Loki know? Had he known all this time?

You swallowed, the idea of having done something wrong at the forefront of your thoughts - but no, he did enjoy his sweets! You saw it with your own eyes- maybe?

Anxiety brought you straight to Loki's room: you would have fooled yourself if you thought that the cookies were from anyone else. Biting your lip, you tried to steady your breaths before knocking on his door, but before you could do it, it swung open on its own, Loki looking at you with a smirk on the other side.

Silence lingered; him leaning casually on the door, while you stood rigid, looking at him.

Then, you sighed. “You knew it from the beginning, didn't you?”

“No,” he answered, getting serious at your sullen expression, “Not from the beginning, but I got to it quickly”

You sighed again, deflating a bit. “I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable-”

“You did not” he interrupted, not elaborating more. It was clear he wanted to say more, to prolong the conversation, but didn't know how. It was his time to look around nervously while you stood there, contemplating the same.

The nervous energy was interrupted by you clearing your throat. “Maybe,” you started, gaining his full attention, “Maybe we can eat these together?”

It was a timid offering, an unsure smile on your lips, but that was all Loki needed. After all, if he couldn't enjoy what he wanted with you, he didn't know who else he could do it with. He nodded and opened the door wider to invite you in. His room was cozy, with soft, dark tones.

“Do you-” Loki walked around you, moving things around, “Do you wanna watch a movie?” He stopped, frowning, “That is how you call them right?”

You laughed softly, “Let's watch a movie, yeah”

As you both got comfortable on his bed and started up a movie, it all felt a bit surreal to you. You kept silent, but your eyes kept drifting to Loki, watching him reaching for the cookies and eating them slowly. You kept replaying how closed off he was with the others and how he seemed like a completely different person now - not that he was opening up, but he seemed more calm, comfortable. It was weird seeing it up close, sharing the space with him.

“Do I have something on my face?” he asked, eyebrows lifting and eyes fixed on you now.

“No, no” you answered, flustered. You could feel the warmth crawling up your neck and diverted your eyes on your cookie. “It's just- I don't know, I've never seen you doing this with the others”

“It is not like the care”

You frowned, “They do-”

“It doesn't really matter though, does it?” he said, smiling, “You are here and you discovered my secret”

“Um-”

“My predilection,” he started, turning completely towards you, “for sweet things”

You swallowed, humming.

His smile grew at your reaction and he chuckled, getting another cookie and stuffing it in his mouth. “I have to keep you close now”

Chuckling you shook your head, “Everything to protect your reputation”

“Right, true, that’s all” he said with a chuckle. He wanted to add: and to keep close the only one who saw through me, but he didn't have the nerve. Not that he had to speak it out loud, as you saw his expression and the gratitude and appreciation on his face.

A weird sense of pride and happiness washed through you, and after that came the excitement of the prospect of finally getting to know Loki bit by bit.

You smiled at him and he reciprocated, tenderly, knowing you knew he meant more than just noticing his love for sweets. Right there you saw another part of him, the one he kept hidden and closed off - the one he didn't like because it was vulnerable and it craved things he couldn't have - or thought he couldn't have, because he didn't deserve them. An understanding settled between you, and right there something clicked. You ignored the feeling though, letting it linger there for future you to think about.

Silence settled again in the room, only disturbed by your munching and the sounds of the movie. It was comfortable, until Loki broke it again: “Will you stop now?”

Your eyes darted to him, but he wasn't looking at you. “Stop what?”

“Bringing me sweets” he murmured, eyes never meeting yours.

You blinked, taking a cookie and offering it to him. “Do you want me to?”

This time he lifted his head, meeting your eyes. You knew then that he didn't want that, he didn't want you to stop. "No, I- I enjoyed finding little surprises around and knowing they were from you"

You smiled. "Then I won't stop"

An expression similar to relief crossed his face, but before you could say anything else, it disappeared. He accepted the cookie, biting happily into it and you copied him, going on to watch the movie.

“Thank you,” he murmured.

“You're welcome”

And in a burst of courage, you grabbed his free hand, squeezing it. To your excitement, he reciprocated, sending you a smile. Spurred on, you leaned your head on his shoulder, keeping your eyes on the tv and after a moment of indecision, you swore you felt him relax and land a kiss on your head, before leaning his own head over yours.

Yes, you mused, you would never stop bringing him sweets.

If only that were the case.

“Remind me again why we’re doing this?” You asked, taking a seat at the table across from Bucky.

“So we can practice and make sure we’re a convincing couple,” he replied.

You sighed as you glanced around the hotel room for the umpteenth time. A small sitting area, a dining and kitchen combination, a single bathroom, and a bedroom. When you pointed out that there was only one bed, Bucky reminded you of the expectation that the two of you had to sleep together while on assignment since you were going on a couple's retreat. Which wouldn't be an issue if you didn't have a crush on him, right?

Right.

You were completely enamored with Bucky Barnes, the handsome former assassin turned agent for the revamped SHIELD. Instacrush wasn't something you experienced often, so he took you by surprise. It was pathetic to fall for him so hard and quickly. It had to be some sort of karma or divine intervention that you were with him in a hotel room.

Just the two of you.

“You know,” he began, wetting his lips as he leaned back in his chair. You blinked, only because you didn't want him to call you out on staring. “You don't have to look so miserable to be here. Is my company that terrible?”

“What? No. Bucky, you aren't terrible company,” you promised, slumping a bit in your chair. The last thing you wanted to do was upset him. “Just been a bit since I've been in a relationship and I’m kind of rusty.”

“You're talking to a guy who hasn't been on a real date since the 40s,” he deadpanned.

He had a point. Plus, from what you understood, Bucky wasn't exactly interested in dating anyone. Every time Steve or Natasha suggested he go on a date, he found a way to brush it off or change the subject.

Even if he was interested in dating, did he think of you as anything beyond a colleague?

Taking this assignment may have been a mistake.

“I’m just not sure I’m the right one for this job,” you said.

“You’re perfect for this job. Why would you think otherwise?”

You froze like a deer in headlights, even as his compliment warmed your heart. It meant a lot that he thought you would do the job well. But how were you supposed to answer that question? That you adored him and it would be torture to pretend to be with him for a week just to back to being coworkers after?

“We should practice,” you suggested instead of giving him an answer. The backstory wasn't overly elaborate, but you had to get it right.

He leaned forward, forcing you to meet his gaze. “Did someone say something to make you think you wouldn't be good for this assignment?” He asked in a low voice. “Because I'll straighten them out.”

You bit the inside of your cheek to keep yourself from whimpering. The thought of him putting someone in their place to make you feel better was swoon-worthy. “No, Bucky. No one said anything. You're right. I’m good for this,” you said before you added, “We’re good together.”

You couldn't read the look he gave you and it became more difficult not to squirm under his gaze. “Yeah,” he whispered, leaning back and clearing his throat. “So. We’re engaged. Going to a resort for a much needed vacation. We’ll have to mingle with some of the guests in between investigating the owner. One of the first questions will be how we met.”

With an exhale, you recited, “We met at a coffee shop. We both ordered the same drink.”

“An iced caramel macchiato,” he said.

“And we reached for the drink at the same time,” you smiled, making a show out of reaching for the glass on the table. “Our fingers touched first. Our eyes met second.”

“And I immediately asked you out,” he smiled.

Your heart swelled. He looked like he didn’t have a care in the world when he smiled like that. “You did,” you said, trying to blink the longing from your eyes. “We went to dinner and talked a bit about ourselves. You told me you're a mechanic and I told you I’m a teacher. And once dinner was over, we went back to that same coffee shop and we shared an iced caramel macchiato.”

“Even proposed to you at the same shop,” he said, gesturing to your left hand. “But I actually got the ring after our first date because I knew I wanted you to be my girl,” he said with such conviction that you found it hard to breathe.

The way his eyes softened as he gazed at you, you found yourself believing him for a moment. You had to stay rooted in realism though. The point of the mission besides the actual mission was to act as if you two were crazy about each other.

Not that you had to do any acting on your part.

You cleared your throat and pulled your hand back from the glass. “If only that were true,” you said, absentmindedly twisting the ring around your finger. You weren't cynical about love, but this whole thing was a reminder that you were single and alone.

His brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

Heat crept up your neck. You shouldn't have said anything. “I mean, it just would've been nice if we met at a coffee shop,” you replied to avoid saying you wanted to be his girl.

“What’s wrong with how we met?” He asked, crossing his arms.

The metal arm gleamed under the light. You noticed that he had a tendency to wear long sleeves and gloves whenever he was in the building, but seeing him with his sleeve pushed up and missing glove? You would almost say he was comfortable around you.

Again, he had to play the part right.

You pulled yourself from your thoughts when he said your name, which sounded like it melted on his tongue. It made you press your thighs together. You needed to stay professional. “Do you not remember what happened or are you just being nice?” You asked.

Months ago, the day you met Bucky, Steve informed you that he planned to introduce you to him after he came back from a long assignment. Not only were you excited to meet one of his best friends and a great soldier, but you had wanted to make a good impression on him. What you did was make an ass out of yourself when you turned the corner only to smack right into the former Winter Soldier.

And splattered your beverage on both of you in the process.

Instacrush and a horrible impression on your part.

Bucky’s lips curled in a smile as your eyes widened. “You do remember,” you said, wadding up a nearby napkin and tossing it at his face, which he easily caught. “Oh, my God! That’s why you chose ‘coffee shop' for this, didn't you?”

You concentrated so much on getting the backstory right that it didn't occur to you that he was maybe poking fun at you. He wasn't the kind of guy that liked making others feel bad though. Tease you, sure. Outright make fun of you at the risk of hurting your feelings? He would never.

“Hey, I didn't choose how we met, but I also didn't object,” he said, raising his hands in surrender when you went to throw another napkin at him. “And I wouldn't forget meeting you, doll. You make a lasting impression.”

You wished you had done something to make him remember you besides spilling a drink on him. “I guess making an idiot out of myself is a lasting impression,” you teased.

Something dark flashed in his eyes, making your breath hitch. “That’s not what I meant. You didn't make an idiot out of yourself and I don't like you thinking that or talking down about yourself.”

“I’m sorry,” you said, not used to someone getting so defensive at your self-depreciation. There was something sexy and heartwarming about it. “You were very nice about the whole incident.”

“You were nice, too,” he said, gesturing to his torso. “I mean, you offered to buy me a new shirt.”

“Because I spilled my drink on it! I felt bad,” you said.

“And when I said you didn't have to buy me a new shirt, you said, ‘Are you sure I can't pay for the dry cleaning at least, Sergeant Barnes?’” he said in a falsetto voice.

He chuckled when you rolled your eyes. “I don't sound like that, first of all, and I was being considerate,” you said. You couldn't believe he remembered your exact words. “And you just gave me that half confused smile of yours before I grabbed napkins for both of us to clean up.”

“You mean this?” He asked, his lips stretching in that familiar awkward grin.

“Yeah, that,” you giggled, your heart doing that funny flip that happened far too often around him.

In the beginning, whenever you smiled at him, he gave you that very look in return. Somewhere along the way, the uncomfortable glances on his end became genuine fondness. It didn't mean anything though.

Just an agent being kind to another agent.

Bucky stared at you as you continued to giggle at the memory. “I’m sorry. I just-”

“I love your laugh,” he said, almost making you choke on your own breath. Nothing like forgetting how to be a human and breathe. “And your smile.”

Maybe he had switched back into practice mode. “You do?” You asked, playing along as you smiled directly at him.

He swallowed and nodded. “Yeah, I do,” he replied, his voice thick as he unfolded his arms. “You know, you're one of the people that actually smiles at me. And you look me in the eye when you talk to me.”

“Why wouldn't I?”

“Because some people are still afraid of me,” he whispered.

Your heart sank. He was a good man. A hero wrongly painted as a villain. It wasn't fair what he went through and you had no reason to fear him.

Why couldn't everyone else see the good in him?

“I’m not afraid of you, Bucky,” you promised. And after what he went through, frightening people was the last thing he would do. “Never have been. Never will be.”

“Maybe you should be,” he muttered, some of the light leaving his eyes.

Your eyes narrowed as you tempered the urge to grab him by the shoulders and shake him. Seeing this vulnerable side of him also brought out your protective instinct. “Listen to me. You’re amazing and a good man, okay? And if I don't get to call myself an idiot for spilling a drink on you, then you don't get to say I should be scared of you, Sergeant Barnes,” you said with an air of finality.

He gave you an impressed smile. “Just like that? Because those are totally different things you're comparing.”

“Just like that,” you said, putting your hand on the table for him to take if he wished. “Do you trust that I'll have your back on this mission? Because I trust that you'll have mine no matter what.”

He stared at your upturned hand for a moment before he took it. “You're one of the only people I do trust,” he admitted.

His eyes bore into yours as you tried to find the words to respond. He wasn’t feeding you a line to make you feel good about yourself. Bucky Barnes trusted you.

“Then trust me when I say we got this,” you promised. You would look out for him and let him know that he hadn’t misplaced his trust in you.

“Why don't you have a boyfriend?” He asked suddenly.

The switch in topic jarred you, but he didn’t let go of your hand. “That’s. I’m. What? How is that relevant?”

It wasn't smooth, but it was better than blurting out that your hopeless crush on him was one of the major factors.

“I’m curious,” he shrugged.

“Oh. Well. My last boyfriend dumped me for being an agent. Seriously, he didn't like the fact that I could kick his ass if I wanted to,” you told him, squeezing his hand without meaning to. He didn’t object. “Which I wouldn't.”

“You could kick my ass if you wanted to,” he winked. Physically, Bucky was broad and strong. You weren’t sure you could take him in a real fight, but you could take him another way if he ever offered. “And your ex sounds like an asshole if he can’t stand beside and support an amazing woman.”

You smiled humorlessly. “Thanks, Bucky, but I’m not-”

“I swear to fuck if you talk down about yourself again, I will put you over my knee,” he threatened, his eyes darker than they were seconds ago.

You didn’t laugh as he stared at you. Neither did he. Your clothes suddenly felt too heavy, your body too warm. Licking your lips, you couldn’t stop yourself from saying, “Is that a promise?”

Bucky pushed his chair back and pointed at his thigh, his eyes still on you. “Get over here and find out.”

Oh, fuck.

The sound of Bucky’s phone ringing snapped you both out of whatever spell you two were under. “Shit,” he muttered, taking his hand from yours. “It’s Steve. I better-”

“Yeah, you should answer that,” you said, almost knocking the chair over as you stood. “I think I'm going to call it a night.”

“Wait, what?” He asked, answering the phone. “Hold on, punk,” he said, covering the screen as he looked at you. “You’re going to bed now?”

Guilt settled in your stomach at the hurt in his eyes. “Just going to lay down. I may not go to sleep right away. And we can practice more in the morning,” you replied. You just needed to step out of the room and take a breath.

He waited a beat before he nodded, the tension still lingering. “I’ll be there in a few minutes, okay?”

“Okay,” you nodded, leaving him alone so he could talk to Steve.

You splashed a bit of water on your face when you went to the bathroom to change. The assignment hadn’t started and you couldn’t keep your cool. With squinted eyes, you pointed at your reflection and mentally scolded yourself. Yes, you wanted Bucky Barnes and maybe, just maybe, some part of him wanted you. At least, he wanted you enough to put you over his knee.

You couldn't have him though. Could you? Mixing business with pleasure could lead to complications if you crossed that line, but it wasn’t like you’d break some major bylaw by being his girl.

Now wasn’t the time to think about that.

“Get your shit together,” you hissed, rushing through your nighttime routine and changing into your comfortable yet sexy nightgown.

Your eyes went to the bed when you left the bathroom. Just a regular hotel bed. Inviting, but not overly frilly. Large enough for the both of you, but small enough that you might end up in each other’s arms.

“It’s going to be a long night,” you muttered.

Sighing, you left a light on for Bucky to see and crawled into bed, shutting your eyes as he wrapped up his call with Steve. You tried to block out the sound of his footsteps as he made his way to the bathroom. Maybe his nighttime routine would take a bit longer than you thought and you could drift off and wake up to the sight of his beautiful eyes and-

The bed dipped as Bucky curled up behind you, your eyes opening when he placed his arm around your waist and pulled you back against him. You were conscious of every shift in his body, every breath he took. How you could smell his lingering cologne as he pressed himself closer. How he ran warmer than you and you wanted him to heat you up even though you weren’t cold.

And that he wasn’t wearing a fucking shirt.

“I know you aren’t sleeping,” he whispered, his fingers brushing along the fabric that covered your skin. “Your heart’s beating too fast.”

He was right. It was about ready to burst through your chest. “Can’t sleep.”

“Why not?” He asked, helping you roll over so you were on your back. He didn’t remove his hand though. “Did my ‘threat’ make you uncomfortable?”

“No, it didn't,” you assured him, heat pooling between your legs that you couldn't prevent. “I wouldn't have continued with the banter if I was uncomfortable.”

“Just making sure,” he said. “I was only teasing.”

You huffed out a laugh in an effort to cover up the crushing feeling in your chest, your arousal fading to a dull ache. “Of course, you were,” you uttered. Teasing. Nothing more. “Good night, Bucky,” you said, turning your head away.

He brought a hand to your cheek and brought your face back toward him. How did his eyes look so blue in the faint light? “Don’t go to sleep yet, please.”

“Why not?”

“You rushed to bed and now you're shutting down. I clearly said or did something wrong,” he sighed, which made you feel bad. He hadn't done anything wrong in your eyes since it wasn’t his fault you wanted his teasing to mean something. “I need to fix it.”

“There’s nothing to fix because you didn't break anything,” you said, the ring heavy on the finger. “But can I ask for a favor?”

“Of course,” he whispered.

You didn’t dare search out his gaze when you said, “I may need reminders this week that you don't actually have feelings for me.”

A few seconds went by before he asked in a small voice, “What?”

You took a breath to compose yourself. The last thing you needed to do was get upset for no good reason. “We’re going to hold hands and cuddle and share a bed and be a couple, but you may need to give me a reality check now and again that you only see me as an agent. Okay?”

Maybe he’d ask Steve for a new partner in the morning.

“You think I only see you as an agent?” He asked, sighing when you nodded. “I used to be good at this.”

“Good at what?”

“Teasing. Flirting,” he answered, leaning in close. He stopped just before his lips touched yours. “Kissing.”

“Wait. You were flirting with me?” you said, not moving forward or back as you put a hand on his chest. His heart raced as fast as yours. And your brain couldn’t compute that implication that he wanted to kiss you. “You weren’t just practicing for the assignment?”

He huffed out a laugh this time. “You’re killing me, doll,” he whispered, closing the distance.

You imagined Bucky kissing you before, but didn’t think it would ever be so soft. His lips barely brushed against yours, but it felt like the beginning of something more. It tempted you like nothing else ever had. He must’ve felt it, too, since he deepened it. You melted. You surrendered.

You never stood a chance.

“So, you like me?” You asked when he pulled back a little to gaze at you. “I’m sorry. I just need to hear you say it because I really like you and have for months. Fuck, maybe I shouldn’t have said that because we have a whole week together for this assignment and now you know and I don't want it to be weird.”

Your mind almost shut down when he gave you a full-blown smile and said, “Yeah, I like you. I thought it was obvious. I tried dropping little hints, talking about your smile and trusting you.” He chuckled almost shyly as his words sank in. “I took this assignment because of you.”

A moment passed before you giggled, happiness blooming in your chest. Bucky Barnes liked you. Wanted you. “Thank fuck,” you breathed, pulling him back down for another kiss.

He groaned, ravaging your mouth as he moved on top of you. His knee pushed your legs apart so he could settle between them, swallowing down your whimpers when he pressed his growing hardness against your pussy. He ground his hips, your panties soaked as his tongue tangled with yours. The man kissed you like he had something to prove.

Like he wanted to own you.

His muscles rippled as he leaned up and grasped the bottom of your nightie. The vision of him above you like this was now engraved in your mind. “If you want me to stop, I will.”

Sleeping with him was moving fast considering you just confessed your feelings for each other, but you didn't care. “Don't stop,” you whispered, quivering as he tugged the fabric over your head.

Your hands moved up to cover your chest before he gripped your wrists. “Are you trying to hide from me?” He questioned, his smirk playful in comparison to the uncertainty in his gaze.

You didn't want him doubting himself or your want for him for a second.

“Maybe? I mean, look at you and look at…”

You wouldn't knock on your looks since you were generally confident in your appearance, but the super soldier was an entirely different level of gorgeous. He towered over even the largest of agents, with the exception of Steve, and his dark lashes framing his steel eyes were enough to pull you under.

And who were you compared to him? Just another agent. Average.

“Don't,” he whispered, releasing a wrist so he could cup your breast. You arched your back and any uncertainty in his eyes before faded when a moan escaped your lips. “You're so fucking beautiful.”

The praise almost made your eyes water as he brought his head down, losing focus when he swept his tongue across your nipple. Your eyes fluttered shut as he did it again, a wave from a sea of ecstasy crashing over you. Your heart thudded faster, addicted to the feel of his sinful mouth.

“You’re the reason I don't have a boyfriend,” you whined, your fingers twisting in his hair. Why did you say that?

He smirked against your skin before he reached down and tore your panties away. “I haven't gone on a date because of you.”

Your body throbbed with need as you met his gaze. “You're just saying that to get in my pants,” you joked.

His eyes raked down your body, stopping between your trembling thighs as he pushed his pants and underwear down. “If I had my way, I would've taken you out first,” he said, drawing a moan from you when he wrapped a hand around his thick cock. “But all I can think about right now is how loud you’ll say my name when I make you come.”

“Bucky,” you moaned, tempted to reach down and touch yourself to the sight of him.

“Louder than that,” he said smugly, rubbing the tip of his cock along your slick folds. “Fuck, I wanna take my time and explore you. Make you feel like a goddess. Treat you the way you deserve.”

It warmed your heart and sent another wave of desire through you knowing he wanted to take care of you. “I know you'll treat me well,” you smiled, opening your legs wider. “But for now, please, fuck me.”

He didn't ask about birth control, which you were on. You didn't ask about condoms. It didn't matter. You wanted to feel all of him.

You glanced down as he lined himself up, watching as he slowly eased into you. It was overwhelming as you took every inch, your mouth falling open with a moan. You floated in a cloud of lust, the sound of his groan reaching your ears.

“Look at me,” he ordered as he bottomed out.

Your eyes flew to his as he gripped your chin. The feel of him inside you, his eyes staring so intently into yours that he practically touched your soul. It was almost too much. And that was when he began to move, the weight of his body on top of yours as he fucked you in slow and deep thrusts. It was the kind of lovemaking that would make you crave more.

Crave him.

“Knew you'd take me well,” he grunted. You whined, the praise going straight to your core as you tightened around his thick cock. Your walls couldn't stop gripping him as he slid in and out. “Knew your pussy would be greedy for me. Won’t let me go.”

Your head fell back against the pillow, dizzy as he trapped your body under his. As he rolled his hips, you wondered if he’d let you ride him at some point. Maybe he’d fuck up into you as he brought your hips down. Or maybe he’d lay back and cup your breasts, let the weight bounce in his hands as you took all of him.

You’d take whatever he gave you.

The growing pleasure within you was like you were burning from the inside out, each movement from him stoking the flames. His low groans mixed with your whines, his thrusts increasing in speed when he brought his thumb to your clit. Your hand worked its way back into his hair as you cried out his name, your control slipping further and further away as he took over.

“Just like that,” he moaned. “Don’t hold back on me. Wanna hear every pretty sound you make.”

“Bucky, I'm gonna…” you trailed off, your orgasm building fast in your core and ready to burst.

“Come,” he finished for you, a filthy smirk on his face as he laced his fingers with yours.

One more thrust and you were gone, his name falling from your lips as you came. Your mouth stayed open as you spasmed, pleasure rushing from head to toe. You panted and didn't care if you'd ever properly breathe again. That was how good it felt.

“I’m close, doll,” he gritted, resembling a growl as he continued to fuck you and chase his release. “Gonna come inside you. Gonna own you.”

“Come inside me, Bucky,” you begged, watching through half-lidded eyes as his face contorted in ecstasy. It was such an erotic sight. “Please.”

He buried himself deep with a long moan as he filled you in hot, thick spurts, nuzzling his face in your neck when he finished. He said your name as he heavily breathed against your neck and it was the sweetest sound you’ve ever heard. You wrapped your arms around him when he stayed inside you, not at all bothered as your mixed release slowly trickled out.

You didn't want him to let you go.

“Well,” you huffed, a dopey smile on your face as you ran your fingers through his hair. “I don't think we’ll have a problem convincing people we care about each other.”

He chuckled, kissing your warm skin. “And we won't have a problem sharing a bed,” he said, keeping you close as you yawned. “Sleep, doll. I’ve got you.”

“I’ve got you, too,” you said, feeling him smile against you as you drifted off.

The delicious ache between your thighs was the second thing you noticed when you woke up. The first, of course, was Bucky’s arm and leg draped over you: warm, protective, perfect. He was still fast asleep, the blanket pooled around his waist, completely at ease with the world. You could get used to waking up like this.

You hesitated before you touched his cheek, not wanting to wake him as you kissed his forehead. You wished you had time to kiss every scar on his body and worship him the way he said he wanted to worship you. The two of you would have to leave the bed sooner or later. There was work to do.

“Mmm. Morning,” he said, his voice laced with sleep as he cracked an eye open.

“Morning,” you whispered, cuddling closer as he brought your hand to his mouth and kissed over the ring. The motion made you brush against his crotch and you were close enough to hear the hitch in his breath. You did it again, keeping your gaze innocent as he opened his eyes more and groaned.

Yes, there was work to do, but it was still early.

“You’re still horny? Didn’t I fuck you hard enough last night?” He teased.

“Yeah, I’m still horny,” you replied. Waking up next to him would arouse anyone. “Need you to fuck me again.”

“You won’t be able to walk if I fuck you again,” he smirked, rolling on top of you and digging his fingers into your waist.

“Should’ve known you’d be a cocky boyfriend,” you teased back, your heart thundering in your chest as he leaned down and skimmed kisses along your jaw. “Sorry, we didn’t put a label on this and there’s still stuff to figure out and the mission and-”

“Hey. Boyfriend, your man, whatever you want to call me, I’m yours,” he cut you off, his mouth drifting to your neck. “And I still owe you a date, got it? You’re my girl. You’re mine.”

“I'm yours,” you gasped when he nipped your skin hard enough to sting, his tongue soothing it after. You were his and he was yours. “So, we're a couple now? Just like that?” You smiled as he worked his way back to your lips.

Bucky answered you with a kiss. “Just like that.”

I struggled a bit with this one after having to scrap almost 2k and go in another direction, but I ended up falling in love with it. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

“Looks like we’ll be trapped for a while.” Steve said looking out at the piling snow. 

“Mm, good thing the fridge is stocked, and shield hooked you up with a generator in case the power goes out.” Bucky mused. “This area has not lost power in many years, but still it’s nice to have.” Steve said 

“So I guess no last minute Christmas shopping?” You pouted softly in your little soft sweater. 

“Aww I’m sorry princess, but it’s a whole blizzard warning out there, and everything is closed, City wide emergency.” Steve said firmly. 

“But we need still garland and things for the tree, we only have lights on it.” You sulked. This was your first Christmas with them and you wanted everything perfect. 

“Well there’s still two days before Christmas doll.” Bucky said. “We’re not getting out there that soon Buck.” Steve interjected. 

“Well I got your main presents, I just wanted some extra decorations.” you shrug, knowing that when Steve says it’s not happening, it’s not. 

“You’re a present all yourself princess, should we wrap you with bows?” Steve pokes your nose playfully. 

“Well I have an idea for doing something festive. Let’s shut all the lights, use only the tree and candles, and if Steve can put a fire going here, and we can make some decorations like Steve and I used to.” Bucky suggested. 

“Oh? Like what?” Your eyes lit up curiously, given how they looked, you always forget they’re over a hundred. 

“Well we used to string popcorn and cranberries for decoration in our day, for one, and I do have gingerbread ingredients.” Bucky said. 

“I think that sounds like a good idea, we have to show our best girl a nice time. And I assume given its close to Christmas, you’re going to be a nice girl, not a naughty one.” Steve gives your bottom a firm pat. 

“Why don’t you go upstairs, and put that cute flannel nightshirt on and the warm socks and a little santa hat, cute red panties to match.” Steve said. “We’ll set up down here for the fun times.” 

You leapt up the stairs excitedly, cozy outfits, sweet treats, and holiday fun with two handsome boyfriends? Sign you up. 

While you changed, the guys prepared a fire, and Bucky got started on some dough to chill while you all made some decorations first. 

“Now, have you ever strung popcorn?” Steve sits down next to you , as you shake your head, curious to learn. “We use this type of string here ,and a thin needle, just be careful to not poke those pretty fingers.” He said as Bucky enters with bowls of cranberries and popcorn. 

“Steve tends to eat a lot of the popcorn, as we go,” Bucky arches a brow in his direction. “Hey I like popcorn.” Steve defends.

The setting was just perfect. Steve had a fire going, your stockings all hung above it. The snow piled up outside with the wind rushing, but you were all nice and warm stringing decorations. 

“Ow..” you pricked your finger several times, of course Steve pressing a sweet kiss to your finger each time, that made you almost want to keep doing it to get kisses. 

Once the tree was draped in the handmade food garland you all made, it was time for the kitchen part. Steve put a cute apron on you and tied it lovingly around you pressing a kiss to your temple, as Bucky handed you little cookie cutters for the dough he was rolling out. 

The entire place smelled like Christmas. The hint of popped corn lingering, the gingerbread wafting around and soft burn of the fireplace. 

Dipping your fingers into the icing you playfully licked them, Steve and Bucky each capturing one in their mouths to lick the sweet icing off. 

“Tastes like you.” Bucky smirked, as you all decorated the little shaped cookie people. 

Steve’s Christmas records were playing, as you were peering out the window to the snowstorm, “What do you say Steve we let her open a present?” Bucky suggested. 

“Really?” You spin around like a gleeful child, “Well… alright..” Steve agreed, watching you excitedly sit on the couch. The two men looked over the gifts they already had under the tree picking a small square box. 

“Okay here you go,” Bucky hands you the pretty wrapped box as they take places on either side of you. Watching you open the paper quickly, you smile as you open the felt box discovering a bracelet that has multiple diamond initials. 

Their initials. 

An R and a B with a little heart right in the middle shined up at you as you look back and forth between their blue eyes. “We wanted something that is you as ours, but subtle and pretty.” Steve said gently taking it from the box to help you put it on your wrist. 

“I love it!” She beamed up at both of them, pressing kissing to each of them. 

“What do we think about getting all warm up in bed with a cookie, and we’ll show you just how good of a girl you’ve been? Since you can’t open anymore presents today.” Steve smiled. 

It has been a busy week of non-stop assignments. You got up early every morning to prepare and brief each other towards the operation, then tiring yourself out during the complicated missions that required most people on the team to get involved, and if you were lucky, you’d be home just in time to collapse into your puffy bed, unable to crawl under the sheets or change your clothes. It was incredibly fun to let out your energy and be together with the entire team again, but the week is catching up to you and Natasha’s idea of having a ‘boozy night in’ backfired greatly.

Your muscles are tight with tension and your cheeks are glowing with fatigue. But you have buried yourself in the corner of the couch, Bucky’s frame blocking you from the rest, so you can comfortably swim in the atmosphere of peace and relaxation around you. As fun as the back-to-back missions had been, there were a few close calls and you never really process the relief that comes from getting out alive until all of you are sat together, talking, laughing and most importantly… unharmed.

“I’m not carrying you to bed,” Bucky grumbles under his breath, taking another swig of his beer as he keeps his eyes on Thor who is telling some strange story about a man made of stone and a creature made of blubber. You kind of clocked out after the words ‘sex club on this purple-blue planet’, which was shame because you wanted to know what it was, but you couldn’t possibly comprehend those stories at this hour.

“Yeah, I know. Just… Just wake me up,” you murmur, your voice soft and breathy as you tilt your head to rest on his shoulder, the soft jitters of his arm making you hum in delight. The bulging pressure of Bucky’s frame against your side has you struggling not to bury yourself into him as far as you possibly can.

Your best friend sighs softly, biting back a smile when you nominate him to cuddle up against. He might not be someone who likes to touch and be touched, but you always found your sneaky little ways to make him tolerate it. He couldn’t possibly pry his sleepy friend off him to fend for herself when she can barely form a coherent sentence, could he?

“Alright. I’m waking you up. Go to bed,” he orders, his voice strict, and you sit up before he can shake you off. Swallowing hard, you pry your eyes open with all your might, making Bucky turn his head to you with eyebrows raised in amusement at your devastating state.

He had already noticed earlier how your heartbeat had slowed to a heavy thump, your breathing evening out and the goosebumps appearing on your skin as the heat seeped from your body with the last remnants of your energy. He may or may not have let it happen instead of offering you the blanket on his other side so that you would nudge into his side a little. Bucky, too, found comfort in making sure his friends were around and well after a week as intense as the one they just had.

Especially you. You always have your shit together and manage just fine – in your own way that sometimes had Bucky baffled, but it seemed to work for you. Yet somehow he wanted you to relax around him. It wasn’t something he realised until it had sort of already happened, but he wanted to be the person that would allow you to let your guard down. And he is. If Bucky even captures the slightest sign of you faltering or stumbling, he’ll make sure he is just within reach in case you need him to fall into. Literally and figuratively. Like your safe haven.

And sometimes a look was enough. He didn’t even have to smile at you – thank God he didn’t – but sometimes you would frantically look around and your eyes would fall on Bucky (after he swiftly inserted himself into your sight) and your shoulders would sag. You’d give him a tight smile and return to your task with your mind at ease. He sometimes chuckled at just how easy it was to make you relax.

But never would Bucky admit that he needs to see that look of ease on your face or he will crumble and fall into a pit of disfunction. He doesn’t want to think about what would happen if something ever were to happen to you. He doesn’t need anyone. He never did. He’s just making sure you’re okay, because you need it.

“Yeah…” you mutter and push to a stand, blinking rapidly to fight the sleep in your body as you ready yourself to make way to your bed.

“I knew you’d be the first to fold!” Thor bellows with a laugh, his story interrupted and everyone turning to you, and you wave him a dismissive hand as you drag your feet over the carpet.

“We can’t all be tireless Gods,” you retort with a little less fire in your voice than you intended, making everyone breathe different octaves of soft laughs.

But you stumble over your feet, or maybe someone else’s, and fall into Steve’s lap with a gasp. He quickly steadies you with broad hands on your waist and Bucky is on his feet instantly. His hands wrap around your shoulders as he steers you away from the group.

“That’s enough outta you. Come on, sweetheart.” Bucky chuckles and you sway lightly as he walks you to your room. Falling face first into your bed, Bucky grimaces at you with a disapproving shake of his head, peeling your shoes off.

“You have got to start making your bed,” he scolds you as you crawl up to the pillows and he throws the duvet over you.

“Just because you’re a neurotic Super Soldier with endless amounts of energy to make your goddamn bed, doesn’t mean you get to judge my life style.” Your grumble is close to incoherent and open your arms wide, “Now shut up and come cuddle.”

“Absolutely not.” He huffs, but you catch onto the sleeve of his blue Henley, pulling him towards the bed. He stumbles and topples over you, giving you a death glare as he raises his face, but you quickly capture him under the blanket and crawl into his side.

You purse your lips to stop the devious smile tugging at them, knowing that a powerful and trained Super Soldier wouldn’t let himself be pulled into a bed by a flimsy piece of fabric, unless he wanted to. So you bury your face into his shoulder and squeeze him as his scents engulfs you, warmth glowing against you like a furnace.

“Such a baby,” you mumble and wait for his stiffness to dissipate, humming softly when he gives in by wrapping his metal arm around your back and stroking his flesh fingers through your hair.

“I hate you,” he grumbles and sinks down, both of you laying in a heap of limbs into the softness of your bed as you finally let the endless depths of your subconscious submerge you.

As long as you’re okay.

…

“You okay, Buck?” you ask with a gentle frown when see him slump from his bathroom with a towel around his neck. He’s wearing simple leisure wear, nothing more than some sweats and a white t shirt and it makes your insides warm with how huggable he looks. Though it seems that if anyone needs the hug, it’s him.

“Yeah. Just a rough few nights.”

“Hmm…” you hum softly and turn on the sofa to face him. “Wanna watch movies tonight instead of trying to fall asleep?”

“All night?”

“Sure. Yeah, why not?”

“You can’t stay up all night…” he drawls, reining in the smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. You cheer silently at the sight and the first hint of his happiness.

“Sure I can! Oh, come on… I have to defend my honour now. I can easily pull an all-nighter.” You try to sound convincing, but Bucky raises his brows in an unimpressed glare.

“Liar.”

“So, you’re in?” you ask hopefully and you can see the soldier faltering.

“Can’t be worse than staring at my ceiling,” he admits with a shrug and flings the towel to the side before slumping into the sofa next to you. This side of the compound was usually empty around this time, most of the crew having retreated to bed or having settled to hang out in one of the larger common rooms. But Bucky and you enjoyed basking in each others’ silence sometimes, a little further away from the group. Not that you are the silent type. But Bucky doesn’t mind.

“What kind of movies do you like?” you ask him, already flicking through the multiple apps on the TV that could stream your next movie.

“I don’t know,” and he doesn’t really care. He isn’t here to watch a movie, he is here to drag you to bed when you inevitably fall asleep. He’d pretty much watch anything. It’s not that you fall asleep all the time and he is like the babysitter to send you to bed, but he rarely slept the way you could, so he always ended up the last to be awake. Little does Bucky know, you rarely sleep the way you do when Bucky is around.

“What do you mean you ‘don’t know’? Aren’t you supposed to have a list of movies to watch to fit into this century?” you frown up at him, referring to his little culture list in Steve’s old notebook.

“Steve’s book? Yeah, no. That would be a list of my victims,” he tells you dryly and you punch his arm, making him chuckle. You truly are the only one he can joke to about that. He would choke the life out of most people for referring to something so personal, but the traumas that constantly seem to roil and simmer inside of him, quiet down to a quiet lake of emotion whenever you touch upon it. His bones and muscles slacken when you merge gently with his old pains.

“Alright, funny man. What’s it going to be? Action or Disney?”

“Disney? Really?” His brows relax when he looks at you, a stoic look on his face to dare you to get him to watch a Disney movie.

“You know the fairy tale of Rapunzel?” You grin like a fucking child at him and he narrows his stare to stop the alternative from creeping up on his features.

“Yes…” He retreats his face warily as he waits for you to elaborate on your bold choice.

“Oh, you’re going to love Tangled!”

“Isn’t that a kids movie?” He frowns.

“It’s a fucking masterpiece.”

…

“You’re drooling over a cartoon,” he mumbles, eyes still on the screen.

“Flynn is the love of my life. Now shut up,” you spit at him, fumbling a full claw op popcorn from his lap as you watch intently. Bucky’s breath hitches at the faint rumble above his crotch and he scrunches his eyes shut for a moment, deciding to redirect his energy from between his legs to teasing you further.

“You buy into that whole grumpy guy, sunshine girl -bullshit?” he grumbles, judgement clear in his voice as his stare remains on the bright screen.

You turn to him with you mouth hanging open and a stupid heat creeping up your cheeks. How does he know about that? Something that specific…

“How do you…?” you stammer and he gives you an unimpressed glare.

“Read some of your books and saw some shit on the internet.”

“What side on the internet are you on?” you question him further, attention no longer on the animated motion picture. You’ll get back to the book thing, not yet ready to confront him about that. There are more important matters at hand.

“What do you mean?” he feigns a frown with a playful smirk and you narrow your eyes at him suspiciously. This stubborn, innocent and old man would not indulge into modern culture. Surely, not…

“N-never mind…” you mutter after a brief silence. You decide not to even try and explain the different sides of the internet to your friend.

“I’m the sunshine in this relationship, you know,” Bucky mutters after a long silence and you snort a laugh, making him chuckle as soon as he hears your delight.

“Obviously.”

…

Curled up on the sofa, you pull your knees up to your chest, nose buried so far into your book, you can’t see anything but the black words on the worn pages. You should know better than to read this …filth in public, but the chapter snuck up on you and you can’t. stop. reading.

He dropped to his knees, eyes drawn up to watch her as his palms slid up the back of her calves. Slowly, so slowly, his hands glided further and further up until they slipped under the hem of her dress. Fuck – you’ve waited over three-hundred pages for this. His mouth came closer and the pounding between her legs increased with every inch he stole from between them. She remembered his lips. The feel of them on her own. Oh, to feel them somewhere else… doing that thing with his tongue. Her knees nearly buckled, if it weren’t for his stare pinning her down.

“Hey.”

You nearly fling the book to the other side of the smaller common room at the sound of Bucky’s voice and clench your thighs to will the pounding between your own legs to settle down already. But your wide eyes have already been caught by Bucky and his brows are raised with amusement, the crinkles in his face not helping your little situation.

“What are you reading? Didn’t hear me come in?” he asks, slowly walking over and crossing his arms over his chest. He looks like he already knows, his dominant glower at your hunched frame in the corner of the couch challenging you. Lie to me, I dare you, his eyes seem to say as they glitter with mischief.

“No. Sorry, I didn’t hear you come in,” you easily deflect his first question. “You and your trained sneaking methods.”

Closing the book and hiding it in your lap, you swallow hard as if resetting your feelings, the whining disappointment of being interrupted in the middle of that scene.

“What are you reading?” he tries again and you remain your empty gaze on him, thinking so hard of any answer to give him.

“A book.”

“Duh. What kind of book?”

“…Romance.”

“Romance?”

“Yes.”

He stays silent for a moment, his gaze rolling over your features. It isn’t often he allows himself the pleasure of someone else’s discomfort, but it is just too fun with you. And he isn’t stupid. He had to wait in your room once while you were still taking a shower, because you are always so slow when you shower, and he couldn’t help but snoop a little at the time. There was a time he used to enjoy reading a lot, it helped him get more familiar with all the languages he was trained in. Though he had never considered the light and bright storylines that were scattered through your bookcases. Bored, he had leafed through one of them and halted abruptly when his trained eye caught some disturbingly distinct words that he had only seem in a porn site search bar.

So he knows the kind of books you read and has to rein in his wonder at the balls you had for reading that in public, rein in his chuckle because of course you would get a kick out of reading that shit in public. Bucky never thought you were the innocent type, he knows better than that. The dirty nonsense that would leave your mouth after a drink, or when you’re too tired to think of the consequences, told him plenty.

He liked it. Bucky didn’t really allow himself to indulge in fantasies like you could and hadn’t been able to admit to his preferences when you asked him about it those few times. He had done some sexual stuff after returning from Wakanda, but it had always been a bit hasty and vanilla, too uncomfortable for his liking. He silently curses himself, because of course he is uncomfortable. It’s a trait he might never shed, but the things he would do if he could just let loose for once. That thought alone could send his cock skyward.

“You’re reading porn again, aren’t you?” He cocks an eyebrow at you and you let out a nervous laugh, opening your mouth to say something, but deciding against lying in the end.

“Way to expose me, Barnes.” You roll your eyes and he grins widely at you.

“It’s the way you are pressing your legs together that is exposing you, sweetheart,” he taunts, his voice having dropped an octave, and you stiffen at his words. Bucky has never acknowledged anything sexual, even when you so openly talk about it all the time, and it surprises you how natural it sounds rolling off his tongue.

“I wasn’t doing that,” you murmur, a tad shy all of a sudden.

Bucky tilts his head at you. “You telling me you’re not thoroughly turned on right now?”

“Bucky!”

“Oh, come on! Indulge me,” he nudges your knee with his metal hand and it shoots electricity up the limb to flutter in your belly. “Read it to me.”

“What?”

“Show me what the hype of written porn is about.” He shrugs and leans sideways against the back of the sofa, crossing his arms over his chest. “I can’t imagine it is better than watching it on video.”

He’s lying. Bucky likes porn as much as most men, but it is a quick fix. He can definitely see the appeal in dragging out the build up and reading from someone’s point of view. But admitting that wouldn’t get you all squirmy and uncomfortable and he finds he quite likes to tease you about this stuff. You always tease him, why not return the favour?

“Absolutely not,” you breathe.

“Pussy.”

“Bucky, I am not reading porn to you, are you insane?!”

But Bucky has already noticed your determined answer and he is too impatient to play this out a bit longer, so he quickly snatches the book from your hold and dives off the sofa, almost roaring a laugh at the impossibly slow response time you have to his actions.

Opening the book to the last page you ended on, he increases the distance between you as his eyes search the words. “She remembered his lips. The feel of them on her own. Oh, to feel them somewhere else… doing that thing with his tongue. Her knees nearly buckled, if it weren’t for his stare pinning her down,” he starts, his voice husky as he reads. “His eyes darkened as they finally landed on her throbbing, warm, aching –”

“Bucky!”

“ –cunt,” he smirks and tries to focus on the words in front of him, even though he suddenly realises who he is picturing as the girl in the book, his brain having latched onto the first person in his thoughts. “She felt as if she might pass out when she felt the fiery trail that the tip of his tongue traced up her bare thigh. So slow, so painfully slow. She couldn’t help the pulsating wave contracting her weeping pussy, another when he dragged his index finger through her folds.” Fuck, this fucking book. “His cock twitched at the feeling of her and the simple sound of the hitch in her breath. He couldn’t help but dip his finger in slightly. Just to test the waters, feel her around his digit. Scorching hot and fluttering with need…” Bucky drifts off.

“Bucky, please stop?” You ask him and his eyes, dark and heavy, snap to your frame on the couch. Your voice has dropped significantly and Bucky can’t help but notice the strangeness in your tone, pleading him to stop reading. Not because you’re embarrassed, no, but because it was turning you on.

And Bucky can’t help but let his nostrils flare as he inhales deeply, the air around him thick with your arousal. He can’t possibly make the distinction of whether you are turned on by the book, or by him, but he finds himself slowly caring less. Something tugs at him again. In his chest, his belly, his cock.

You’re uncomfortable. Horny and uncomfortable, aching and needy. He can read it on your face. And Bucky’s protective instinct can’t help but instantly want to make sure you’re feeling better. As opposed to the normal situations, a back rub, a nap, or a glass of water won’t help you this time.

And there you are. This wonderful, comfortable, beautiful person. Always teasing him, making his life better by making it worse. And something he hasn’t realised until now, a person who is completely and utterly… sexy. That sparkle in your eyes, those fleshy thighs, your lips, your hair, your everything. And your mind, especially. How it takes his body nothing to instantly respond to you, like an answer to your call.

Right now, you are calling again. Calling for pleasure and relief. Bucky’s legs stiffen to stop him from marching over and answering that call like he answers all the others.

“I’ll stop,” he replies stoically, shutting the book gently and walking over to you. He reaches out the book for you to take, but when your hands, albeit hesitantly, wrap around the cover, Bucky doesn’t let go and tugs both your hands to him slightly. “Is that what you want?”

His eyes are piercing into yours and you nod frantically, “Yes, I can’t take you reading any longer.”

He clarifies, “I mean the book. The scene – is that what you want?”

Your brows pull together and you search his face, disappointed to be unable to read it. “To have someone eat me out? Yeah… I can’t say I would mind it.”

Those words, followed by your breathy chuckle has Bucky’s fingers curl until his nails dig into the cover of the book. You talked about sex with him sometimes, but to hear you name such a filthy and delicious act so plainly? He doesn’t know how much more he can take. Is that what you felt when you heard him read? Because he will read you a bedtime story every night if this is how it makes you feel.

Bucky reluctantly lets go of the book and takes a seat on the other side of the sofa, running his hand through his hair as he takes a deep breath.

“Then why not go and get it?” he asks, staring ahead even if he feels your eyes burn into his side.

“No one will live up to the expectations of a book, Bucky,” you sigh and Bucky hates his name on your lips like that. Filled with disappointment. Absolutely hates it.

“Sure they do,” he shrugs and finally decides to face you, “all you need is that build-up.”

You swallow hard and your chest freezes with an inhale. “A build-up?”

“Yes,” he hums. “Those three-hundred pages of tension, a little teasing, some dirty talk…”

You roll your eyes with a low laugh. “Right. How realistic of you, Bucky.”

He likes that tone a lot more. His name from your mouth like that. Like he might be one of your favourite people. “Easy to get, sweetheart. We have a whole lot more than three-hundred pages under our belt.”

The nickname and the simple insinuation of his words make you curl up tighter in the cushions. You do. You have plenty of build-up. Plenty of teasing and tension, as far as you are concerned. But you never considered your friend to have experienced the same thing. You felt like a burden to him, always seeking him out and him grumbling as he helped you. But you could endlessly wonder. Or you could ask. Who is he to be putting you on the spot?

“What are you suggesting, Bucky?” you ask, even daring to sit up and lean in closer slightly. You should have expected him to not recoil too easily though. He wouldn’t even show you a weakness, despite your close relationship. No, he would lean into whatever you would give him.

“I think you know what it is I’m suggesting.”

You leap. Fuck it. “Say it.”

“You really want me to say it out loud?”

“Would I be reading books if I didn’t?”

He laughs at that, his lids lowering when his gaze narrows back in on you. His hand, draped over the back of the couch, is so close to your shoulder. He licks his lips.

“Say it,” you repeat.

“I’m suggesting,” he drawls, his voice having deepened, “that you spread your legs for me.”

You can’t believe it. Can’t believe he just said that. And how it sounded so natural, something you never expected. But you swallow the primitive response to his words that has your whole body reeling. You will play his part. You will find out just how far Bucky is willing to take his bluff. Sure, you had well over three-hundred pages of foreplay, but also well over three-hundred pages of trust to shatter with one stupid decision. However, you cannot currently find one good reason – not a single one – not to risk it all for him.

So you spread your legs for him.

His eyes widen slightly, an outside power pulling his sight down to the very core that you’ve exposed to him. He didn’t think it was possible, but his mouth waters, the absence of your taste on his lips grating his nerves. He drags his eyes back to yours, only to see you surveying him closely.

“Everyone is out. If I do this…” his voice is low and descends into a rasp.

“No going back,” you finish for him.

“I don’t want to go back.” There is no mistaking his words, his tone clear.

“Me neither.”

“Tell me,” he orders, his warm palms wrapping around your ankles, his thumbs stroking the skin of your shins. Even the metal is warm. Your breathing deepens and becomes heavier.

“I don’t want to go back,” you say. “I want this.”

“What? What do you want?” he asks, surely testing how far you’ll be willing to go with your confessions. You stay quiet, your eyes peering down into his as his hands slowly stroke up your spread legs, his fingertips grazing underneath the fabric of your shorts. “You want my tongue between your legs?”

Your pussy convulses at his words and you swallow hard. Fucking hell.

“Bucky.” It’s a whisper.

“I bet that book warmed you up for me, didn’t it?” he croons and you nod stiffly. “I wonder if it’s enough. I wonder if I need to spread you open a bit further.” His thumbs dig into inside of your upper thighs, spreading you open more. You pulse in answer, your chest rising and falling deeply.

“Why don’t you try and find out?”

Bucky snickers softly, shaking his head slightly in disbelief. “And there I was, thinking you’d be innocent.”

“You never thought I was innocent,” you breathe, the circling of his thumbs against your skin distracting you. More slick gathers between your legs and you wonder if Bucky can spot it through your shorts.

“Let’s just say I never thought I’d get to see this side of you,” he answers and licks his lips with his eyes burning into your warm skin. His fingers start peeling at the fabric and you wiggle your hips impatiently, ready to raise them and serve him.

“You severely underestimate yourself.” Your voice is quieter, more serious. You hope he can decode your vague confession. How much he means to you, how there is no one more worthy to speak to you like Bucky does, no one you could want more.

He stays quiet at that, however, his eyes raising to yours. His stare remains impassive, his eyes darting between yours as if trying to find something. But you stare back just as hard, unflinching, unfaltering. Something flashes across his face, a determination of some sorts, and he gives a quick nudge upward with his chin. An order. Raise your hips.

Serve me.

Your breath halts in your throat while you do as you’re told, lifting your hips as Bucky slowly peels your shorts off, your panties right along with them. Heart pounding at the relentless vulnerability of being naked before him, you stiffen. He twists you by his grip on your thighs, leaning you back against the back rest of the sofa and kneeling down between your bare legs. His eyes are on you.

“I have to warn you,” he starts and you gape at him, expecting some cocky remark that will make you roll your eyes at him. “If we do this – if you let me between your legs – it will not be the one time. I will be coming back for seconds and you will be coming, too. A lot. Tonight. Tomorrow. A week from now. This is it.”

You swallow hard, your eyes wide and frozen onto his relentlessly handsome face. He isn’t joking. In fact, you don’t think you have ever seen him this serious before. And for Bucky, that is saying something. But for him to admit something like that, hint towards borderline addiction when it comes to pleasing you – it does things to your heart and pussy that you cannot describe.

“Kiss me first,” you tell him. You need to kiss him first.

Bucky smiles – smiles – and lifts up on his knees, cupping your neck and pulling you forward instantly, giving you no time to come back from your request. When his lips touch yours, you let out a tiny gasp, the feeling of his lips against you making your chest lurch and your brain scream. His lips part and you moan softly into the kiss when your tongues meet, the strawberry texture of it making you want to whine. Instead, your hands grasp the collar of his shirt and pull him closer. He hums contently against you and both your breathing becomes more laboured.

Bucky pulls back a few times before diving back in, dragging his teeth over your lips and teasing you with the absence of him. Until you are a wet and throbbing mess between your legs. It is when you start wriggling in your seat, that Bucky chuckles and pulls back a final time.

“Getting a bit antsy?” he asks, his hands stroking your thighs as he sits back on his knees.

“Over three-hundred pages, Bucky…” you remind him.

He smiles again and pushes your knees apart once more, leaning forward as his lips press against the sensitive skin of your inner thighs. You lean back and watch him closely, your attention solely focused on the rugged man between your legs.

His thumb starts to slowly rub over your clit and you gasp at the touch, it somehow feeling incredibly unnatural to have Bucky in that position. It being his touch that is causing you so much pleasure – and pain. God, you’re throbbing painfully now and you cannot help the whine squeaking from your lips.

“Shh, I know. I’ll get to it.”

It does make you relax, his words and his tone, and you make yourself sink into the couch, your hands reaching down to run through his hair. He smirks and locks his eyes with yours, slowly – so slowly – leaning down to replace his thumb with his mouth. And you can’t help the heavenly sigh that spills from you when it finally makes contact with your aching core.

“Oh Bucky,” you moan and tug softly on his hair as you throw your head back. He’s there in seconds, bringing you to that long-awaited peak. Apparently, you don’t need much when it comes to Bucky, the man himself being foreplay enough for you to launch towards release.

“Mhm,” he hums, “that’s it. That’s good.”

The warmth of his tongue is making you shiver, the slurping sounds coming from between your legs making you squeeze your eyes shut and throw your head back. If only to focus on holding out, on not drenching his face. It’s sinful, the protective, passive and gorgeous Bucky Barnes on his knees for you. Capable of destruction and so much violence, unrelenting towards everyone and a grump in his social life – but he’s on his knees for you.

Your moans and words of encouragement are growing incoherent, your belly tightening as Bucky hauls you closer to avoid any distance between your drenched pussy and his mouth. He’s slow, meticulous and ravenous as he eats you, his fingers rolling into your flesh as if he’s savouring every place where he’s touching you.

He is.

It’s unreal, to have such a beautiful woman above him, moaning and panting and grabbing at him while he does something he enjoys so much. His mouth won’t stop watering. God, he’s addicted. He has to remind himself to breathe when his tongue is desperate to make the pitch of your voice raise, get you to your release. He has to know what it is like to see you come, feel you come, hear you come – taste your come.

He needs you, he needs you, he needs you.

Then his finger gently traces the inside of your entrance, wiggling around to spread you open, and you start choking on your moans, your breaths sounding outright painful and your fingers curling around his wrist and into the cushion below you.

“Bucky, Bucky, Bucky!”

He hums and wraps his lips around your clit once more, rolling it into his mouth and flicking his tongue over it. And you crash, the tightness in your body coming to a high before every muscle and tendon snaps into pure euphoria. You buck and roll your hips into Bucky’s mouth, riding the waves of your orgasm with breathy, raspy moans that make Bucky’s eyes roll to the back of his head.

Violent tremors rack through your body as you come down and Bucky ceases his assault on your pussy, which is still pulsating heavily from the warm orgasm that seeps from your body. You finally open your eyes, looking at a Bucky who is completely alert and satisfied.

“Tomorrow,” he licks his lips clean, eyes shimmering with delight, “you’re going to read that chapter to me. And you’re going to sit on my face while you do so. If you manage to keep reading, I’ll make sure you keep coming.”

As long as you’re okay.

“Don’t be piqued, my dear son. There is a deeper meaning in everything your father does” His mother's words wandered continuously through Loki's muddled thoughts, giving him sleepless nights since the day Odin ordered him to marry the daughter of Asgards supreme Valkyrie. What deeper meaning could this arranged marriage possibly have for him? What was he supposed to do with a Valkyrie anyway? They were undisputedly the best warriors of the nine realms and Loki respected them but for his wife he wanted anything but a death-wishing, brutal fighter…

“This is your wedding gift for the prince? What about the special dagger your mother brought from Svartalfheim? It would be a much more… how should I put that… fitting gift” your friend Astrid complained as you showed her the book you originally wanted to gift Loki. The two of you were bound to spend eternity together so why not go to an honest level and open up to each other? You loved to read and even wrote your own little novels of which you picked out the best and let them be bound in an old leather book. Your gift for the god of mischief.

That was your initial plan but Astrid’s objection made the determined facade of your argumentation crumble. She wasn’t the first one to criticize your soft, creative core, a trait truly atypical for a Valkyrie. “Are you dead serious right now? The Allfather certainly didn’t chose a Valkyrie for his son for nothing. Not a dreamy bookworm softie called y/n” she threw her hands in the air pacing around the huge dressing room of the outrageously luxurious palace. The train of your beautiful wedding dress blew in the nasty wind of Astrid’s quick, nervous striding. Even if she was right, it was too late.

The ceremony was short but absolutely nerve wracking. Odin's forceful voice made every muscle in your body freeze, the red veil that covered your pretty face was the only thing that gave you strength to breathe. Through the intricately embroidered lace, you managed to get a few furtive glances over to your new husband who wasn’t a complete stranger to you, better said your secret crush for months.Loki looked perfect in his regal, slightly intimidating Asgardian armor, like he always did. You had seen him many times before, at special rallies, royal birthday parties or even in the library. The raven haired prince was tall, regally handsome, terrifyingly eloquent and most of all; unreachable.

And now, after many nights of dreaming about him, you were exchanging the traditional wedding gifts after his big, soft hand held yours gently to put a golden ring on your delicate finger. You were his from now on, a Valkyrie with a massive crush and a prince where all he knew of his wife so far, was her ring finger.

The actual wedding celebration began but like it was typical for the bride, you left directly after the ceremony itself. Maids buzzed around you, hard busy to take off your dress and put you in a long night dress in your husbands signature green. It suited you much better than the uncomfortable white battle suits of your female warrior group.

“This way please, princess” a maid pointed to a golden ornate large door that led to your new chambers. The shared chambers with your husband. Was he already waiting for me? Will he be disappointed with my appearance? A thousand questions were racing for the pole position in your mind, some with a romantic background, others were pure self-criticism.

The door opened and his room became visible to your curious eyes, not leaving a single wish unfulfilled. The light from the scented candles gave the dark mahogany furniture a luxurious orange undertone, the leather covers of the books flirted with the numerous gold ornaments while the open bathroom blended perfectly into the room.But it was the French balcony which caught your attention almost immediately, so you decided to wait there for your husband, overlooking all of Asgards unmatched beauty and listening to the echoing laughter of the guests.

Time went by and completely unnoticed by you, the god returned to his chambers with your book open in his hands. “Princess Y/n? Who’s work is that?” His deep, comforting voice asked, scaring you to the core. “I- uh… it’s mine” you stuttered turning around to face your husband who’s unique appearance made you blush instantly.It was the first time that Loki saw your adorable face and it was a moment that burned itself deeply into his memory. His striking jaw dropped and the words he planned to say were suppressed by a sensual silence while the prince studied every aspect of your body he thought was so different.

“Is it that bad? I’m so sorry! I should’ve gifted you the dagger…” you sighed slowly turning around because you knew you couldn’t take any criticism eye to eye. Loki was still stunned by your unmatched beauty, however, he noticed the nervous, somehow frustrated look on your face. You listened to the dull sound of his leather boots approaching your figure and suddenly two big hands rested on each side of your hips, pressing your back against his toned chest, the sudden closeness left you wondering what more of him would feel like.

“No, your work is brilliant. Can I confess something to you? But promise me that you won’t be mad afterwards” he whispered in your ear creating a lovely pattern of goosebumps on the delicate skin of your neck. You had to chuckle at his unexpectedly relaxed manner and the impressive familiarity the usually cool and reserved prince radiated. “Sure, go ahead” you answered matching his nature with a broad smile plastered on your lips. “I fervently hoped that you were not a typical Valkyrie. Not that I have anything against them just... it's just not my type of woman”.

This was the perfect opportunity to make a move and the sudden boldness his touch ignited in you, let your mouth speak unguardedly. “And what exactly is your type?” you asked tilting your head backwards in a tempting way to meet his penetrating emerald gaze. Loki raised an eyebrow, a wry grin decorated his velvet lips… these damn lips you missed since the first elusive wedding kiss. “Hmm. I think my wife” he growled and his touch on your hips became tighter, your ass pressed directly against the growing bulge which was still kept in place by his regal leather pants.

Your pulse rose to unimagined heights and a hungry heat spread in your lower belly, seeking the gods touch like crazy. “Allow me to make you mine, darling. I can’t wait any longer now that the curtain has fallen and revealed such a gorgeous woman” In a swift motion he lifted you up and placed you on top of the marbled balcony balustrades. Hasty kisses wandered down your neck, letting your head fall back in a newfound ecstasy which already threatened to befuddle your senses. Loki's smooth hands parted your thighs to lift your left leg up, pampering little lovebites on the soft inside of your flesh.

“Loki…oh my” you panted as your hand gripped the cold stone with a loud smack. A sly grin crept into his flawless face and he slowly descended, eventually ending up kneeling in front of your legs. You imagined him touching or even fucking you before but this was an action completely breaking through your virgin imagination. But it only took a few seconds for the prince to notice your questioning, confused gaze. “Darling? You’ve never done this before, have you?” he asked, his eyes meeting yours while his right hand slowly pushed the exquisite fabric of your dress upwards. “Don’t dreams count?” you whispered unable to avert your (y/e/c) eyes from his big digits toying seductively with the stitched-on lace. Loki's deep chuckle was anything but embarrassed by your frank answer. On the contrary, it was honest and loving, warming your heart up like the first rays of the morning sun thaw the colorful flowers of the royal garden.

“If you pray to your god, he might fulfill your dearest wishes. Don’t be afraid, y/n” Loki whispered his hot breath already reaching out to your wet core. His wicked words made you lose your mind, stifling any doubts or anxiety which were about to take over just a few moments earlier. Loki was gentle and loving, he would never hurt you. “My dear god, please show me” the sinful words left your innocent mouth way to easily but it was more than enough to light up a fire in your hungry husband. The sensation of his breath turned into a breathtaking firework of excited neurons as his tongue flicked over your clit for the first time. Loki’s name was the only word which dared to come over your parted lips.

“You’re doing so well. Tell me if anything feels especially good” he breathed in between heavy kisses and penetrating deep licks which covered his face in your juices making his pale skin glisten elegantly in the last minutes of Asgardian daylight. “This! Do- don’t stop, pleeeease” you begged at the fast kitten licks enveloping this special sweet spot over and over again. “Now let go, darling” he cooed, his nails digging in your hips as he held your beautiful cunt close to his face. The feeling intensified terrifyingly quickly but before you could even assess it properly, a wave of pleasure gushed over you causing your legs to tremble uncontrollably. It felt like heaven but still left you wondering what he would feel buried inches deep inside your wanting core.

“Somebody wants more, hm?” Loki grunted as he faced you again, showing off the wetness which covered almost his whole lower face. He had no idea how unbelievably attractive he looked and the admiring look on your gorgeous face drove him wild. More than an enthusiastic nod wasn’t needed for him to let his magic take away his pants, revealing the part of him you thirsted over for months and it turned out to be even more perfect than you ever imagined. But the sight also allowed a specific fear to strengthen again; the fear of being hurt. “Hey, look at me” Loki said, gently lifting your chin up to make you look at him instead. “I would never hurt you, y/n. We might just know each other for a few hours but I’ll take care of you, I promise”.

Long fingers stoked over your sensitive cunt and the tingling sensation of Lokis green Seidr spread through your body like a soothing warmth. You promptly understood what he did and returned his questioning gaze with an exited smile, now that pain wasn’t going to be a part of your next actions. “Ready?” he cooed lining up his glorious length with your throbbing entrance. You wanted him, no doubt. Slowly but steady the god guided inside and your walls immediately hugged him tightly, the stretch felt delicious. With eyes shut you drank in every moment of Loki burying himself deep inside of your cunt for the very first time. “You feel amazing, gods” he praised as his cock was fully disappeared, taking your virginity with him.

“Can I move?” Loki asked after kissing you lovingly while his eyes scanned your mimic for any signs of discomfort. “Please” Your breathing intensified rapidly, eventually becoming loud, animalistic moans as he began to thrust into you again and again. The feeling of his cock alone was overwhelming but the movements his rolling hips generated were heavenly, making you addicted to his intoxicating love making. Droplets of sweat ran down your exposed, stretched neck only to pool around Lokis strong hand which embraced this vulnerable part of your body like a unique necklace. “Is that okay, y/n?” Loki asked under staggered breaths while pumping in and out in a delicious pace which made your toes curl unlike anything else. The soothing dominance this act radiated did something to you, forbidding yourself to ever let him take that damn hand away. The prince dominated you in such a respectful and loving manner, it made you forget anything your innocent self thought to know about sex.

“I love it, Loki. I- Fuck!!” you screamed at the unfamiliar angle he created with holding one of your legs onto his chest. “Does my princess enjoy that, yeah?” he growled almost overwhelmed not only by how good you felt around him but by how gorgeous you looked, (y/h/c) hair blowing in the warm evening breeze and mouth opened in ecstasy. You were a goddess to him. “Hm, yess” A last relatively decent moan left your lips before a new, different orgasm rapidly built up in your core. Loki narrowed his eyes watching your face like a starved eagle who was eyeing his long awaited meal. But not in a degrading sense, instead it made you feel sexy and desirable, only pushing you over the edge of sweet climax.

Your orgasm crashed over you like a collapsing tower, making you scream Loki's name in a symphony of breathtaking pleasure. The god decided to gift you the most amazing first time riding you through your high until your delicious tightness brought him to his knees. “Norns, y/n!” he moaned while coating your insides in the white color of love. His head fell back, eyes shut and teeth gritted, a godly sight you would want to bathe in every single day. It took both of you a few minutes to come down from your other-worldly highs, the soothing sound of Loki's slowing breaths calmed you like a good dose of Propofol. “Are you alright, darling?” his rich voice asked as he held your panting self close to his hard chest, lovingly stroking the naked parts of your back which were exposed by the opened lacing of the green silk dress.

“More than that, my prince” you smiled, gently rubbing your head against him like a child feeling safe in loving arms. “My gorgeous, gorgeous wife... by the way how did you like my present?” Oh damn, you had completely forgotten about his present but no wonder given the tension you’ve carried around with yourself since you left the ceremony for his chambers. “Well, I uhh… haven’t had the chance to open it yet?” you stammered cracking an apologetic smile which was by far the cutest thing in Lokis eyes. “Let’s open it together, shall we princess?” he asked, gently scooping you up from the balcony wall, his toned biceps flexed under your weight which was still nothing compared to what the god could actually move with his bare hands.

“But I guess you have to dedicate me another book of your impressive writing. As an apology, of course” he winked, a mischievous smile dancing around his velvet lips and only a few seconds later you found yourself pulling his head down to get another taste of his silver tongue. Loki was slightly surprised by your strength and the pretty muscles which tensed up to move his tall upper body. But only a blink of an eye later, your true self was revealed again as you shyly blushed under his gaze, your delicate fingers trailing the imprint of the said book which sprung from your poetic imagination. “My little Valkyrie... A sheep in wolf's clothing.”

"These are terrible. Who actually thinks that these work?" you heard Natasha groaning from the common room. "Because I was praying so hard? Really?" 

"The one about taking off your shirt so he could see your wings made me want to put them in a death grip," Wanda chimed in. "Although something tells me they might actually like it if I do, so I'll have to blast one of their appendages off, I suppose."

"Alright, what has you two in a quest to chop off limbs? Again?" you asked as you walked in to the common room, Wanda immediately scooting over so you could sit between her and Nat. 

"The guys here are trying to see if they could get us to fold with cheesy angel-themed pick-up lines. Tony's convinced that it's all in the delivery. So far he's not proving his theory right." Nat looked like she'd rather endure getting her teeth pulled out than having to receive another line, so you decided to relieve your friends. 

"Alright boys, these two look jaded and ready to cut your throats out, so consider me their reliever. Gimme your worst." You pointed at the direction of the guys with a 'come at me bro' motion. 

"I wanna try, Miss Y/N." 

"Go ahead, spiderling, but pro tip? If you wanna pick a girl up, let's start by not calling her Miss. Makes us feel older than we are." Peter grew red at the advice but nodded and stood up, straightening his shirt and shoving his hands in his pockets. 

"Will you tell me about your home, Y/N? I wanna know what Heaven's like." 

You nodded your head slowly, as if you were grading his line. "Your delivery lacks confidence, sweetie. You're gonna need some more time mentoring with Stark if you want his swagger to rub off on you."

"My turn," Wilson boomed, standing and doing a comical swagger type walk, clearly taking this entire exercise as a joke. Just like you were. "Y/N, does it hurt to always spend Christmases sitting on top of a tree?"

You furrowed your eyebrows at him. "Why would I be—"

"Because we always put the angels on the top of the tree," he finished with a move to smoothen his brows that had you bursting out in cackles. 

"Well I can't say anything about the trees but I do like spending my Christmases, and any other time of the year really, on top," you answered with a saucy raise of your eyebrow that had majority of the men in the room either doing a spit take or choking on their drink. 

You heard your friends cheering you on from the railing at the top of the stairs. "That's our bitch right there!" Nat hollered. 

"Alright I'll have a go at jellybean over here," Tony announced, standing from his seat and walking over to you with his signature 'Yeah I know I'm hot shit' walk. "I gotta make some training simulations just in case we ever have to face off against angels. You never know. You mind if I use you as the reference?"

You did three slow claps. "I will give you points for creativity, Stark. You still can't get a woman to fold with that line, though. Sorry." 

"I still want to get you scanned for that training sim, though. I’m not kidding, jellybean." 

"Just say when, Tony."

"May I have an attempt?" Your body felt like it froze on the spot at the sound of Loki's voice floating across the common room. Tony and Sam threw you knowing smirks before the former retook his old seat. Asshats. The two were the worst offenders when it came to giving you shit about your crush on the raven-haired Asgardian. 

"Uhm…sure, Mischief. Knock yourself out." You straightened your stance and fought to keep your composure as he took slow, purposeful strides towards you. "Although I'm pretty sure you'll get any woman to fold because fuck it that voice should be a registered weapon," you quipped as he crossed the distance to you. 

He chuckled. "You flatter me, little mortal." He tucked his fingers under your chin, making you look up at him, into his eyes. Focus, Y/N. Don't fold, don't fold, don't you fucking fold. "My mother used to tell me of a legend, that the Norns had crafted an individual for each of us so perfectly, so exquisitely, that when we meet them the only thought that will come to mind is 'There you are. Finally. I've waited centuries to reach you.' I once believed those tales to be pure works of fiction, to give one hope in a hopeless world. But upon meeting you, darling Y/N…"

"Mischief, this doesn't sound like a pickup line," you whispered frantically as he placed his thumb on your bottom lip, coaxing your mouth to form a pout, and used his free hand to tuck a stray lock of hair behind your ear.

He leaned in until your noses were touching, and then he spoke again. "There you are. Finally. I've waited centuries to reach you." 

"Fucking hell, I fold," you breathed out, staring at him with wide eyes, your heart thumping so loudly in your chest you could swear that Nat and Wanda could hear it from the second floor. "You win, Mischief." 

You saw his expression drop just a fraction as he released you, backing away by the slightest. 

"You're gonna need to teach us that, Reindeer Games," Tony quipped from his seat. "So…you win, pick your prize." 

"I didn't know you guys were playing for a prize," you said, turning to face the others, not even so much as daring to look at Loki after…what ever just happened.

"Well earlier the prize was just to not get kicked in the nuts by Romanoff," Tony answered. "Tell you what, Rock of Ages, you go think what you want as your prize and then just text Y/N. Game's over, boys. Let's pack it up." 

You looked up towards Nat and Wanda who were now frantically motioning for you to come upstairs and meet them, and you took that as your cue to run out of the common room. "I'm not even into him but I have to say that would've had me fold, too," the Russian spy commented as you stepped into their arms with a frantic wide-eyed look on your face. 

"Y/N, my friend, that…that didn't sound like he was playing." 

You took a deep, steadying breath. "What're you talking about, Wan? Of course he was," you mumbled. "I'm gonna go out for lunch today, you two wanna come with?" 

You received a text in the middle of lunch that nearly made your heart start sprinting and almost made you choke on the sandwich you were trying to chew.

I meant it. Every word. Come to me when you're ready. I'll be in my chambers.

"Y/N, you look like you've seen a ghost," Wanda prodded, her tone laced with concern. "What's wrong, dear one?" You showed her the text. "Fucking finally." 

"Fucking finally what?" Nat asked as she got back to the table. You showed her the text. "Oh. That. Well it's about damn time." 

"Excuse you two?? Something you wanna share with the class?" you all but shrieked in the middle of the deli. 

"You might wanna put the mozzarella stick down until after we're done telling you," Nat advised and you stopped yourself from taking a bite. "Mischief's had the hots for you. For months. You've been too busy having the hots for him and making sure that he doesn't figure that out, to even notice. We were hoping that he'd finally fess up when he asked if he could have a shot at the game earlier, and look at that, it finally happened. Hence, fucking finally." 

"So we should finish our lunch, go find you a cute outfit, so that you can be ready for him," Wanda said, wiggling her eyebrows at you, making you throw the mozzarella stick at her face. 

Two hours later, you were back in the tower, wearing a black sundress that fell midway down your thighs, and a gold belt around your waist, making your way to Loki's room. You took a deep breath as you rapped on the door before you could change your mind.

Almost immediately, the door opened to reveal the god in loungewear set in his signature green. He looked at you with a softness in his eyes as he reached for your hand. "Come in, darling." 

As soon as the door closed behind you, you started, "What did you mean--"

Before you could get another word out, he gently pushed you against the closed door and laid his lips on yours. The shock of his actions admittedly caught you off guard, but you quickly shook that off and placed your hand behind his neck, returning his kiss and weaving your fingers through his hair. 

"I know what I want," he murmured against your lips as he lifted you into his arms, making you wrap your legs around him, effectively trapping you between him and the door. 

"You mean out of the game or out of life?" you breathed out, letting out whimpered moans as he pressed kisses from your jawline to your neck. 

"Both, darling," he breathed against your neck. "Out of life? I want you to become mine." He pressed another kiss and groaned against your skin. "But the game, my precious mortal…" he trailed off, kissing a path from your neck to your ear. "I will need your answer before I tell you that."

"My answer to what?" you gasped as he lightly nipped at your ear. 

"Will you be mine?" He punctuated his question by kissing the skin below your ear and then proceeding to softly suck on the spot, making you all but moan your answer. 

"Yes."

"Well then…" He trailed a path of kisses back to your lips. "As my prize, I want you—"

"You have me, Loki. I'm yours—"

"On top." 

Your eyes snapped to his, the air leaving you as you saw the devious smirk on his face. Oh. 

A/N: Fun fact…the working title for this story while I was writing it was "lines from the corn factory". That is all.

Here's a little bonus gif for everyone who reads 'til the end:

Taglist:

The nightmares started the same night that you had returned from the mission that had gone sideways.

You’d had an extremely close call that almost cost you your life and you were terrified.

Every time that you closed your eyes, all you could see was your life flashing before your eyes.

“No!” The sound of your own bloodcurdling scream would startle you awake.

Drenched in perspiration, heart pounding, your breaths coming in short, frantic gasps…

The disturbing dreams you had of your own death were all too vivid, too real.

So, to keep the awful nightmares at bay, you simply decided to stop sleeping.

Because you couldn’t dream if you didn’t sleep, right?

It was well into the late evening. Although everyone else in the compound had called it a night and retired to their sleeping quarters hours ago, you had stayed behind, deciding that you would keep on working for just a little while longer. You were in the hangar aboard the team’s ship, having a look at a minor glitch on the copilot control panel Clint had noticed earlier that morning on a test fly. The lack of sleep was really starting to get to you, though, which was making the simple job about a hundred times harder than it actually was—your concentration was impaired. It was becoming increasingly difficult to see straight and your memory, which was normally extremely sharp, was beginning to fail you completely. It had been about a week since you last slept and you knew you couldn’t carry on this way for much longer. But you refused, absolutely refused, to let yourself give into your exhaustion. 

“There you are,” a familiar voice came from behind you.

Startled, you glanced over your shoulder. “Steve?”

He, along with Wanda, had boarded the ship.

“We’ve been looking all over for you,” he said. “It’s late. What are you still doing here?”

You sighed. “Something’s up with the altitude control on the copilot panel. I’m fixing it.”

Steve looked at you, frowning slightly. “You don’t look too good,” he observed as he stepped towards you. “Is everything alright?”

You nodded, your head suddenly feeling very heavy. “I’m fine.”

“She’s lying,” Wanda stated bluntly from behind him.

“I’m fine,” You repeated, scowling at her.

Now was not the time for her to get into your head.

“You’ve been working all day. Have you even eaten anything?” Steve asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

Wanda spoke again. “She hasn’t.”

“Wanda! Shush!” You snapped.

She narrowed her eyes at you. “Perhaps the lack of proper nutrition is what is causing her to be so irritable.”

Steve sighed, lightly shaking his head. “She means well, you know that.” Taking your arm, he leaned down and lovingly kissed the top of your head. “The kitchen is still open. Let’s go and get you something to eat.”

“But I have to finish this. Clint wants to do another test fly tomorrow.”

“You can finish up in the morning,” he insisted. “You need to eat.”

Normally you wouldn’t let Steve have his way so easily, but this time, you did.

“Alright. Fine. I’ll finish in the morning,” You muttered, setting down your tools.

“Come on, let’s go.” He turned on his heel and started towards the door of the ship.

You started following him towards the door, but then stopped abruptly.

A wave of dizziness came over you and you swayed unsteadily. You reached out, steadying yourself against Wanda.

Worried, Steve was instantly at your side again. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” You managed to reply as everything around you began spinning. 

“Are you sure?”

You nodded, although as you tried to take a step forward, your knees buckled out from underneath you.

You vaguely heard Steve say your name before collapsing against him.

“Wanda, I need to get her to the medical facility!” He slid one arm behind your back and the other under your knees, quickly scooping you up. “Start heading up there. Let them know we’re coming and to have a bed ready.”

“No,” You protested, groggily. “No, Steve, please. I’m okay.”

“No, you’re not okay. You nearly just fainted right now—”

“I don’t want to go. Please, I don’t want to go,” You pleaded, weakly. 

Steve seemed torn.

You clutched at his jacket. “Please.”

Sighing in defeat, he glanced over at Wanda, who stood there and watched you with worried eyes. “I’m going to take her to my quarters. Lock up the ship?”

She nodded. “You got it.”

Although you insisted that the dizziness had subsided and you were well enough to walk on your own, Steve simply ignored you and carried you the entire way up to his room in the compound from the hangar.

“It’s nothing, I’m fine,” You maintained as he laid you down onto his bed.

He grabbed a silver water flask from the floor beside his bed, handing it to you. “Here. Drink.”

You hesitated, but then lifted the flask to your lips, taking a sip.

The cool water instantly soothed your dry mouth and throat.

Taking a few more sips, you glanced around.

Even though the two of you had been romantically involved with each other for a while now, this was the first time that you had ever been in his private quarters in the compound.

“So.” After a while, Steve spoke. “Do you want to tell me what’s going on?”

“Nothing is going on.” 

He scoffed. “I’m not a mind reader like Wanda is, but I know you well enough by now to know you when you’re lying to me.”

You hesitated, knowing there was no other choice but to tell him the truth.

“I haven’t been sleeping very well. Actually, I haven’t been sleeping at all.”

He sat down beside you, his bright blue eyes silently urging you to continue.

“I’ve been having nightmares,” You confessed, feeling your face grow warm. 

“Nightmares?” he repeated. “About what?”

“About out last mission when I almost...” You trailed off for a moment, shaking your head. “I know that they’re just dreams, but when I close my eyes, I can see it, Steve. I can see my lifeless, dead body hitting the ground. It’s so strange. I almost feel like I’m having a premonition of my own death instead of a bad dream.”

A warm tear slid down your cheek. Embarrassed, you quickly wiped it away.

“So you stopped sleeping,” he realized in a murmur.

“I’ve never been this afraid of anything. I feel like such a coward.”

Steve narrowed his eyes at you. “Hey. Look at me. You’re not a coward. You’re one of the strongest, bravest people that I have ever known. It’s okay for you to be afraid. That doesn’t make you any less of a soldier.”

“Really?”

“Really.” He reached up, touching your cheek. “But you can’t just not sleep.”

“I’m exhausted,” You admitted. “But it’s the only way I don’t have nightmares.”

Steve lifted a hand to your face. “Sleep with me tonight.”

“What?”

“Stay the night with me.” He repeated, his thumb lightly grazing your skin. 

“No, Steve, I couldn’t inconvenience you like that.”

“You? Inconvenience me? Never,” he told you, firmly. 

You chewed nervously on your lower lip as you thought it over.

“Please, stay,” he whispered. “Let me be the one to chase your nightmares away.”

You turned your head, pressing a kiss against the palm of Steve’s hand. 

“Okay,” You agreed, softly. “Okay. I’ll stay the night.”

He smiled, relieved that he didn’t have to fight with you over the matter. “I’ll get you one of my shirts so you can be more comfortable.”

After you changed out of your clothes and into one of Steve’s spare t-shirts, the two of you climbed underneath his warm, blue flannel blanket. You laid with your back to him, and he wrapped an arm around you, pulling you close against his chest.

Your eyes felt incredibly heavy, but each time you found yourself starting to doze off, you would quickly jerk yourself awake.  

Steve must have felt you resisting.

You were on edge. 

This was the first mission in a long time where you hadn’t spent the night before with Bucky, wrapped in the warmth of each other’s arms, and waking up with another before heading off. Your regular routine almost happened. It would have happened if it hadn’t been for the argument that happened just about five minutes before you were ready for bed, an argument you deemed unnecessary and frustrating the second you stormed out of Bucky’s room and back into the one you barely spent any time in anymore. 

Not having that routine definitely threw you off your game. After dealing with a restless night and a series of tosses and turns, you decided to just stay up until you had to leave. 

Biggest mistake you could have ever made, you thought.

You packed everything you needed and, first thing in the morning, walked straight into the kitchen to fill up a thermos with a lot more coffee than you’d ever drink on a normal day before heading off to the quinjet launchpad without a word. Everyone else eyed you as you walked out; your usual, greeting nature was replaced by a silent one, a sight no one had seen since you first joined the Avengers. Once you exited, everyone’s eyes quickly turned to Bucky who had walked in just as silent. Though it was less rare for Bucky to avoid conversation, the two of you being separate was the clear elephant in the room.

Bucky looked up to meet everyone’s gazes on him, his brows furrowing immediately in annoyance.

“What’s the problem?” 

“Something going on between you and Y/n?” Sam asked without hesitation. He beared witness to the entirety of your relationship with Bucky, especially since he was often assigned to missions with the both of you. If anyone could tell something was off, it’d be him. 

“She’ll get over it,” Bucky replied monotonously before also heading out to the launchpad, everyone else straggling out shortly after.

You were already sitting in your normal seat inside of the quinjet, scrolling absentmindedly on your phone to distract yourself from the eyes that would eventually fall on you as you heard everyone else approaching. 

Though you were still angry, Bucky was not. In fact, he was more angry with himself than he was with you. He didn’t even think he was upset with you at all, but he was convinced you thought otherwise. 

Finishing a shower after an intense sparring session had never felt better to you. 

You had been with the Avengers for about two years now, picking up on more useful ways to use your fighting abilities rather than always being so destructive. Old members of Hydra, who decided they wanted to somehow reinstate and resolidify the organization, had taken you–along with more people than you could count on both of your hands–to be experimented on with a serum similar to the ones used on Bucky and Steve. After managing to escape, you had definitely lost a piece of yourself. It took a while to warm up to the thought of fighting alongside such honorable people, but after two years, you had found your home. 

The first year and a half was strictly training and shadowing anyone who had gone on a mission. You were eager to prove yourself as being part of the team, and in the last six months, Steve and Tony had agreed to allow you to not just shadow missions, but be part of them. You had just finished mission 26 as being “part of the team” two days ago, and Steve had stopped you before your workout with Natasha to let you know that he thinks you might be able to do your first solo mission. 

That news definitely kicked your motivation into overdrive during sparring. Natasha’s never been one to go easy on you, per your own request, and was riding on a 10-0 streak against you.

That streak got broken fairly quicker than she had expected.

Upon finishing your workout, you were most excited to tell Bucky the news. He had been there the whole ride to see just how hard you’ve worked to get to where you are today, especially sharing the experience of being under Hydra and struggling to use your abilities for the right reasons. 

But for some reason, things just didn’t go as you expected. 

And it hurt. Really hurt.

Bucky stepped on the jet and gave you a quick glance. Everyone else had taken their usual seat, meaning the only one available was the one he always took right next to yours. He sighed deeply to himself before sitting down, seeing you immediately cross your arms across your chest from his peripheral vision.

This was definitely going to be a long trip.

You didn’t say a word to him the entire ride. Not even so much as a shoulder or thigh touch. You kept your stoic nature for all of the ten hours you were sat next to him. 

Bucky was losing his patience, and the only person he blamed was himself. This might have been the first day in the year and some months that you’ve been together that you hadn’t said a single word to him, and it was eating him alive.

It was most definitely eating you alive too, but you couldn’t get the argument you two had out of your head. 

Bucky was starting to pack his things when you had walked into his room, his attention quickly diverting to the door and onto you, shooting you a soft smile.

“You’re back already?” He asked, knowing you always took a hefty moment to yourself to relax after sparring with Natasha. 

“You are now looking at the woman with a singular victory against Agent Natasha Romanoff,” you said confidently with a playful victory bow, making Bucky chuckle as he stood up and made his way over to you. 

Standing up straight to look up at him, Bucky cupped your face in his hands and kissed your forehead. “I’m so very proud of you, baby,” he said with his lips grazing yours that had just pulled into a small smile. 

“I also might have really good news,” you said in an eager tone, which Bucky noticed and loved immediately. 

“What’s the good news?” He asked right away as he wrapped his arms around your waist, wanting to hear your excitement. After seeing you have so many losses, with yourself and others, he knew you took every win very seriously. You reminded him of himself when he first joined the Avengers as well, and knew just how difficult it was to adjust and get even just a glimpse of triumph.

“Steve pulled me aside today and said he thinks I might be ready for solo missions,” you responded as you wrapped your arms around Bucky’s neck. “He saw how well I did during the last mission and wants to see how I do alone. He just wants Tony to agree first.”

Bucky’s face dropped slightly. “Are you sure you’re ready for that?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you asked rather than answering his question, furrowing your eyebrows in confusion.

Of course you thought you were ready. You had prepared long enough for this and knew you could take on the challenge. You also thought that Bucky of all people would be able to recognize that and agree. 

“You’ve only been on 26 missions, honey,” he contested. “It took me a lot longer than that before I was even able to handle a mission with just Sam.”

“So you think that I can’t go on a mission by myself because it took you longer to adjust than it took for me?” you asked incredulously as you pulled out of Bucky’s grasp and took a few steps back. 

Bucky ran his hands over his face in frustration. He knew just how stubborn you were; he had seen it mission after mission and debrief after debrief. You were never one to stand down from defending yourself and your decisions. However, you had never been so persistent with him over anything beyond a playful dispute between the both of you.

“You know that’s not what I meant, Y/n, so can we table this conversation and go to bed?” he bargained with you softly. 

You scoffed. “You just patronized me by implying that I’m incapable of handling a mission on my own and you want me to ‘table the conversation’?”

Given your tenacious anger, you knew it’d be best to not say anything at all until you felt a lot calmer about the situation. You had surely pondered if you were just overreacting, but Bucky’s words still hurt you.

He was never one to patronize you or make you feel like you couldn’t do something. In fact, it had always been the opposite. To hear that he felt you were incapable of taking on something you felt you were ready for had stung you harder than any other accusation ever thrown at you. He was the man you loved, the one person on the team who you trusted the most, and he thought you were unprepared.

So you avoided him. The jet landed and you gathered your things and walked right past him. You got lucky that Clint couldn’t come on the mission anymore and you could take his room so you wouldn’t be stuck with Bucky for the entire week. 

Bucky had felt like he was stabbing himself in the chest. He couldn’t sleep the entire night. This seemed to be a mission of firsts for the both of you, including the first time you were both on a mission and slept in different rooms since you’ve been together. 

The next morning, Bucky felt he made it worse. He wandered over to your room before it was time to meet everyone else, knocking on the door loud enough for you to hear it but not make himself obvious in the hallway.

You opened the door, looking right at him though Bucky felt like you were looking through him.

“Can we talk?” he pleaded softly. “I know this isn’t the best timing—”

“Then maybe we should wait until we get back, don’t you think?” you interrupted, your voice a bit raspy from the lack of communication with anyone.

“I can’t think straight on a mission knowing that you’re upset with me, baby,” he said, a slight tremor in his voice. You knew he didn’t want to upset you, but you also didn’t want to direct your anger towards him. It was the one thing you had both promised to each other. “Please?”

“I don’t want to talk about it right now, Bucky,” you replied sternly, your use of his name feeling like a knife through his back. “Can we just do this after?”

He nodded, not wanting to prod you any further than your limit. He whispered a soft “okay” before walking back to his room.

That was the last you spoke to each other before everything happened.

Your mission started off smoothly. You were paired up with Steve, who wanted to monitor you a bit closer while on a mission to further confirm his confidence in you. He also didn’t want to pair you with Bucky when you had tension with each other, wanting the mission to go successfully and without distractions.

You and Steve would take the fifth and sixth floor of the building to locate the files you needed to extract. Natasha would take the third and fourth floor, Bucky and Sam the first and second. Tony would be eyeing the outside perimeter for extra threats and also spotting Natasha a helpful eye, though everyone knew she could handle herself well. 

After fighting off a few straggling guards, you found the file you needed. The only problem was the faint beep, beep, beep you heard somewhere in your vicinity. Steve was keeping watch outside, fighting off the backup that was eventually called when they realized you were here. You couldn’t locate where the sound was coming from, but you knew it wasn’t a good one. 

“Hey, Steve, you busy?” you said, the hint of fear in your voice.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, hearing your tone. You could hear his shield bouncing off the walls as he responded.

“I’m hearing a beeping noise from in here and I can’t find it at all,” you said as you kept tearing the room apart carefully, not trying to accidentally trigger anything. 

“What do you think it is, Agent?” he asked, and you knew he was trying to turn this into some sort of test like your life wasn’t probably at risk.

“The only possibility is an explosive of some sort,” you responded, trying to hide the irritation in your voice from still being monitored on a mission like a child. “I can’t really make out where it’s coming from and it’s nowhere that I’ve searched in the entire room, so it’s probably hidden somewhere.” The beeping then started at a quicker pace, only making your nerves go into overdrive.

“I’ll finish up out here and then help y—”

Boom. 

“Rogers? Y/l/n?” Tony spoke anxiously into comms.

“What the hell was that, Tony?” Bucky asked immediately, not liking the tone in his voice while he said both yours and Steve’s names.

“Explosion on floor five. Rogers and Y/l/n aren’t responding.”

“Y/n? Steve?” Sam tried to reach out. Nothing.

“All I’m getting is static, guys,” Natasha chimed in. “I’m headed up.”

Bucky jolted into the staircase, running faster than he could even process. He eventually caught up with Natasha, Tony and Sam both flying in from either side of the building to the fifth floor. The entire floor was filled with smoke, though the hallway was a bit clearer than the room you had been in alone.

Natasha caught a glimpse of Steve, who was thankfully conscious, as he tried to lift himself up with a a cough to expel the smoke from his lungs. Tony helped him up and Steve immediately caught Bucky’s eyes, filled with anxiety he hadn’t seen in him in a while. He then looked at the door and Bucky understood that you were in there.

He knocked the door in with no hesitation, though something was blocking his entry. Steve and Tony made their way over to help him push the door, moving the cabinet that had been flung across the room with the impact of the explosion. Bucky slipped through the door, blue eyes scattering across the room until he saw your hand sticking out from behind some debris. Using his metal arm to lift up the equipment that had fallen on top of you, he moved it over to the side before kneeling in front of you. He noticed the large piece of shrapnel sticking into your abdomen, a fairly large blood stain tainting your suit and your breaths extremely shallow.

Your eyes were half open as they landed on him, though your body desperately wanted to fall out of consciousness.

“Hey, honey, I’m here,” he said as your eyes glossed over. 

You felt too weak to talk, it hurt just to breathe with the impeding metal in your stomach. The one moment you wanted to say something to him and you couldn’t. 

“I’m here, okay? We’re gonna get you out of here,” he said as his eyes stayed firmly on you, his ears tuning out Steve directing Sam, Tony, and Natasha to prepare for an emergency evac back home. “You’re gonna be okay, everything’s gonna be okay.” 

Bucky cupped your face lightly, running his thumbs across your cheeks carefully over a few cuts. His face and tears streaming down his cheeks was the last thing you remembered seeing before the darkness reeled you in.

_

It had been six days. 

Six days since you all successfully evacuated the mission. Six days since they removed the metal from your stomach safely. Six days since they found out the extent of your other injuries from the blow. Six days since you had been unconscious. Six days that Bucky hadn’t left your side for a second.

He had already regretted everything he said to you the night before your mission, but now he felt like he had made the biggest mistake of his life by even upsetting you. Bucky knew you probably wanted to cool down, memorizing all of your coping mechanisms and the way you communicated your feelings. But something in his head told him to talk to you sooner, and he only wished you had let him before everything else fell apart.

He hadn’t slept in the six days you’d been unconscious. You had suffered such a serious head trauma that the doctors in the medical wing of the compound were surprised your scans came back clean. On top of the fractured ribs, the wound in your stomach, and the broken leg, everyone had already known you were a trooper.

By the sixth day, Bucky’s eyes were finally starting to get tired. 

He fought sleep off as hard as he could, not wanting to take his eyes off of you for a second. Sam had come in several times throughout the week to bring him food to eat, though he could barely finish any of it. Steve had urged him to go shower every day, promising to watch you and alert him if any changes had happened, pleading with him until he finally agreed. Bucky would rush to shower and immediately ran back as he had finished and gotten dressed. Steve would just give him a pat on the shoulder and a longing look, knowing he couldn’t push any more out of his best friend who was watching intently over the love of his life. 

Bucky laid his head on the small space on the side of the bed next to you, his thumb running soothing motions back and forth on your hand as his solemn, blue eyes watched you take small breaths in and out with your eyes sealed shut. His eyes then pulled him into a slumber, one he didn’t even remember falling into.

After a few hours, he felt you shuffle a bit on the bed, shooting his eyes open and seeing you rub your eyes with your free hand, his hand still intertwined in your other one. 

“Y/n?” he spoke softly, your eyes redirecting to his face and a small smile creeping on yours.

“Hi,” you said groggily. “Did I wake you? I’m sorry.”

Bucky sat up and shook his head. “You have nothing to apologize for, baby. I’m just glad you’re awake,” he reassured as he let go of your hand and moved his to rest on your cheek. “How are you feeling? Does anything hurt?”

“I feel like I got hit by a truck,” you joked in a tired voice. “How long have I been out?”

Bucky sighed, though he was glad you were feeling well enough to be playful. “Six days,” he answered. “You had a lot of injuries.”

You nodded slightly. “What about the mission?”

“Natasha and Tony took care of it,” he informed you. “They stayed behind while we evacuated to finish and found a copy of the file. Mission successful.”

You nodded once again, biting down on your bottom lip as you knew there was still unresolved tension between you and Bucky. He noticed it too, but he didn’t think it was the right time to talk about it. Not right after you woke up. 

_

A few days later, you had been discharged from the medical wing and had gone back to your room. You had told Bucky you wanted to go back to his, but he had insisted it’d be better for you to rest in yours. 

He stayed with you the first few days you were in recovery, though he didn’t sleep next to you. It hurt a bit, but you had at least felt comfort in knowing he was in the room with you. 

One morning, you had woken up and saw Bucky sleeping peacefully on the couch chair in the corner of your room, knowing he had finally gotten rest after a few days. You stayed watching him and he met your eyes immediately when you woke up.

“Hey,” he said in the raspy morning voice you knew all too well. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m okay,” you said as you sat up a bit in bed, to which Bucky moved to your side to help you do.

“Don’t exert yourself too much, Y/n,” he warned in a light tone. “You’re still recovering and I don’t want you to prolong y—”

“Buck, I’m okay, I promise,” you cut him off, placing your hands on his face and forcing him to look you in the eyes. His normal, cerulean eyes were a bit more clouded. They looked more gray in the dim lighting of your room, but you could also make out the sting of sadness in them. 

The longer he looked in your eyes, the more tears formed in his. “I could have lost you,” he said with a crack in his voice. “I almost lost you without making things right with you. I’m never gonna forgive myself for that.”

“We don’t have to talk about this right now, Bucky—”

“No,” he cut you off this time. “I can’t wait any longer, Y/n. It’s eating me alive and I want to make things right with you. I need to make things right with you. Everything that went wrong on that mission only made everything worse. You could have died while being on bad terms with me and I’m never, never, going to let that happen again. Do you understand me?”

You nodded slightly, tears quickly glossing your eyes as well while a tear slid past Bucky’s. He cupped your face in his hands, wiping the tears that fell down your cheeks with his thumbs as you started to play with your fingers in your lap.

“Do you think that I care about anything in this world but you?” he said, a noticeable shake in his voice while he didn’t break eye contact with you. “There is nothing that compares to you in my world. Nothing. When I heard that explosion and Tony say your name, it felt like my heart dropped. I don’t want to experience that again. Especially if I’m not with you.”

Your eyebrows furrowed. “So you mean—”

“I said what I said because I’m too scared not to be with you, Y/n. It’s wrong and I’m sorry, I’m so sorry that I made you feel like I felt you weren’t ready to be on your own. You’re more than ready and I was clouded by my own fears and patronized you when you didn’t need that. I can’t lose you, I can’t picture what the rest of my life would even look like without you in it. But my fears should never come in the way of your accomplishments that you deserve and earned, honey. Never. I’m sorry. I’m sorry I hurt you and I’m sorry that it took everything that happened for me to say it to you.”

If the tears weren’t falling from your face before, they most definitely were now. You wrapped your arms around Bucky’s torso and sobbed into his chest. He was crying too, but he wrapped his arms around you and rubbed small circles in your back to soothe you the way he always did.

“I’m sorry,” you choked out between sobs. “I didn’t want to fight with you, I just—”

“Shh,” Bucky comforted you. “It’s okay, baby, I know. I didn’t want to fight with you either, it’s on me.”

You pulled away slightly to look up at him once your sobs died down, sniffling a bit as he looked down at you with all the love and adoration he’s always had for you.

“Promise me we’ll never fight before a mission again,” you urged softly, and even though your tone was slightly playful, Bucky knew you were also half serious.

“I promise, baby,” he said, kissing your forehead twice. “Now let’s go back to sleep.”

You nodded as he made his way around the bed and slid next to you, carefully wrapping his arms around you as you both laid down and enjoyed each other’s warmth again.

__________________________________

The first thing you noticed when you woke up was that it was dark outside. You'd slept the day away. Maybe even more. But you felt rested, fully energized, ready to go back to your office and face the behemoth that was the security system of the Ten Rings.

Just as you were about to stand up and head back to said office, you vaguely remembered Tony's words about not wanting to see you in your office for the next seven days. That was when you noticed the next thing. This wasn't your home. You didn't even remember leaving the tower. But you did remember bits and pieces of a conversation between Loki and Natasha arguing about whose room you would sleep in.

"FRIDAY?" you called out into the dark empty space. 

"Yes, Miss Y/L/N?" the AI answered. 

"Could you tell me what day it is, how long I've been asleep, and then turn the lights on at 50%?" 

"Certainly, Miss Y/L/N. It's Friday, the 16th, and you were asleep for fourteen hours. Turning on lights at 50% brightness." As light slowly filled the room, you took note of your surroundings. The neatly organized shelves, the helmets hung on the walls, the emerald green bedspread that was an almost exact match to the clothes you were wearing.

You groaned. "I'm in Loki's room?" 

"Indeed you are, Miss Y/L/N. And I've been instructed by Mister Laufeyson to tell you to meet him at the kitchen when you wake. Will that be all?" 

"Yes, FRIDAY, that will be all. Thank you." You took a look around the room, trying to remember anything more than fleeting moments of the last two hours before you fell asleep, to no avail. So you decided instead to follow FRIDAY's words and make your way down to the kitchen to meet Loki. 

Once you reached the bottom of the stairs, you noticed that the tower was strangely quiet for a Friday night. "Lo?" you called out into the quiet space, your voice echoing from the walls.

"In here, darling," you heard him call out. When you walked into the kitchen, you had to catch yourself at the sight of him wearing only a pair of green silk pajama bottoms, a match to the sheets upstairs. You willed your eyes not to roam, not to appreciate his literal godly form, to keep them trained on his face. Big mistake, because once he turned around and his eyes met yours, a devilish smirk crossed his features and his eyes roamed your form. "You are quite the beguiling sight in my colors, dear Y/N. I may have to tell Romanoff she's not getting those clothes back." 

"You plan on keeping them for yourself?" you quipped, trying your best not to let his gaze affect you. But then he set the plate in his hand down and made his way over to you, crowding your space. 

"You have your wits about you again. That's good," he said in a low almost whisper. "You should tell her you're keeping this for yourself." His tone was almost authoritative, as if he wasn't giving you room to protest. You suddenly get flashbacks of him declaring that you would stay with him while you slept in that same tone. Except this time there was a softness to his words, like he was trying to wrap you in them, in his presence. 

It's like he's seducing me, you thought to yourself. But there's no way; you're being delusional, Y/N. Of course you were. He didn't see you that way. He never would. 

You struggled to compose yourself. "I thought you had a thing against people wearing your colors." 

You felt your heartbeat at your fingertips as you watched him raise his hand and slid his finger under and along the strap of your camisole. "Perhaps under the correct circumstances, I would be willing to share." And then he looked at you through his lashes and you could've sworn your heart stopped beating altogether. 

The way you saw it, there were two options. Keep the flirty banter going and see how far he'd take it, or stop it where it stood and play it off like a joke between friends. You didn't trust yourself not to get hurt with the first choice. "Pssh," you chuckled. "You know for a second there, Lo, I could've sworn you were flirting." And you gently nudged his hand away and sat down on a stool  by the kitchen island. "Where is everybody, by the way?" 

"They went out to one of Stark's many clubs to intoxicate themselves on inferior ale and gyrate all over strangers they will cease to remember by morning. Maximoff left that out for you and told me to make sure you ate it once you woke up." 

"Why didn't you go with them?" 

"Nothing in that image fit my rendition of an enjoyable time, darling. And there are far more important things to attend to." 

"Such as?"

"Ensuring that someone I care for is taken care of after she endangered herself the way she did this week." There was no mischief in his eyes as he said the words, as he stared into yours, like he was trying to see into your soul. "Y/N, swear to me you'll never be that reckless again. When you nearly fell earlier…" He seemed to fight back his sentiment.

You placed your hand over his. "I promise," you said softly. "I just forgot--"

"You cannot afford to forget these things, Y/N." His voice sounded almost desperate. Then he took a deep breath. "I don't want to live in a world bereft of you a day sooner than I absolutely have to. I do not wish to even contemplate that world, do you understand?" You had no words, no witty comebacks, no jokes, nothing. All you could do was nod as he held on to your free hand, returning your nod as he raised your joint hands to his lips and pressed a kiss to your knuckles. He then let go and motioned to the plate of pasta in front of you. "Eat, darling." 

You did your best to focus the next several minutes solely on finishing your plate, rather than allowing your mind to wander in the direction of the smoldering shirtless god standing by the counter pretending to leaf through a book, when in reality he was watching your every movement. 

Once you were finally done he ceased his charade and walked over to place himself behind your seat. You visibly stilled as you felt him reach from behind you to slide your plate over to the side, and then proceeding to lean over and rest his chin on your shoulder. 

"What’s up?" You did your best to sound casual. He wasn’t ever like this with you. Whatever this was. So to have him behaving like this now? It was jarring, that was for sure. 

"Did you know you talked in your sleep, dear Y/N?" Your breathing hitched as you both felt and heard his words, what with him having his lips so dangerously close to your ear. The effects he and that absolutely sinful voice of his had on you felt like they were magnified. Tenfold. 

You took a deep, slow breath, trying to find your footing, finally taking notice of how he’d placed his hands on the marble top, effectively trapping you between him and the kitchen counter. You let out a half-hearted chuckle. "Nice try, Lo. I know I don't." You made a motion as if to step off your seat, but his next motions kept you right where you were, as you watched his his forearms flex ever so slightly and he stepped even closer to you and you felt his chest pressing against your upper back. It was clear the message he was trying to send across to you. Don't move an inch.

"That may be so," he started speaking again. He let go of the island and proceeded to sweep your hair over your shoulder with one hand and wrapped his other arm loosely around your waist. "But you say the most interesting things when you're under the influence of that medication, in the moments before you succumbed to its full effects." 

Your blood ran cold as you got flashbacks of the most wonderful dream. You were laying in bed, in Loki's arms, as he asked you if you were his. And you told him you were and that you were defenseless against his perfection, that you fell in love with him. Such a damn shame you don't feel the same way. 

"That wasn't a dream," you whispered, barely even able to breathe properly as you felt his nose tracing along the length of your exposed neck. "You know." You were doing your best to choke back the sob that threatened to escape you. 

"I do." 

"I'm sorry." Your voice was barely audible. Any louder and you were sure to be a sobbing mess in his arms.

"What ever for, darling?" His words came out so softly, so lovingly, with just a hint of longing. But surely you were imagining it. Right? "You've done nothing wrong."

"I don't know," you whispered, on the verge of hysterics. "I just feel like I should be apologizing for something." And then another flashback. A dream – no, a memory – of you pressing your lips to his neck right before everything went black. Your breath hitched. "I'm sorry I kissed you."

"Don't be, my precious girl," he crooned. "I quite enjoyed it. The feel of your soft, luscious lips on my skin. It was as if the universe stopped; I wanted it to. I wanted that fleeting moment to go on for eternity." What? "The only thing I did not enjoy was you succumbing to slumber before I could return the favor." Oh, you were sure you stopped breathing now. Was he really saying what you think he was saying? "No matter. You're awake now."

You went near frigid in his hold as you felt him press his lips softly to your skin, and he let out an audible exhale that felt as if a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. If you thought he would stop at one, you were adorably naive.

He proceeded to press kiss after kiss to your skin, each getting less chaste, more frantic. You began to question if you were still dreaming, but feeling the edges of the stool you gripped so tightly in your hands digging into your palms told you you most definitely were not. This was real. This was all real. 

"Relax, darling," he whispered into your skin before pressing an open-mouthed kiss to your neck. You could've sworn your heart stopped beating the moment you felt his tongue flick against your skin. His hold on you tightened so slightly as he moved his lips to your jaw. "You have nothing to fear. You've done nothing wrong, my little mortal." His lips moved closer to yours, stopping at the corner of your mouth and pressing a kiss there. "All you've done is the impossible." 

"Which is?" you breathed out, surprised there was any air in your lungs at all after receiving this kind of attention from him. You never thought he would; you often forbid yourself to even dream it. You wouldn't dare, because even in your dreams where you were undoubtedly the best version of yourself, even there you never saw yourself worthy of him.

"I won't tell you until you relax, dear Y/N," he teased, his lips moving against your skin, so tantalizingly close to your lips. "Let go of the breath you're holding and lean in to me." 

"I'll fall." 

"You won't. I'm here. You're safe with me. You always have been." That did you in and finally you slowly felt yourself loosening your grip on your seat, exhaling and doing exactly what he asked, leaning against him. "Good girl," he murmured, pressing another kiss to the corner of your mouth, gently tilting your head back to rest on his shoulder. "All you've done is love me. As I've loved you." 

Before you could respond, he captured your lips with his in a kiss that was heated but held such restraint, as if he was still testing the waters with you. Your heart felt like it was soaring as you started to wrap your head around what was happening, as if a fire was ignited in you that warmed your entire body. 

When he pulled away from you, you immediately felt the loss, craving his kiss once more. If you'd thought you were intoxicated by being in his presence before, you were downright drunk on it now. Addicted, even. "Oh, my love. My darling Y/N. It seems one taste of you and I've become insatiable." The feeling's mutual, you thought to yourself, unable to form words. There was that word again. Love. He turned you around in your seat so that you were facing him. "Look at me." You tilted your head up to look into his steel blue eyes, your breath hitching as you saw all the emotions swimming in them. "I want you to say it. Say the words that made me whole. I want to gaze upon your ethereal perfection as you say it. Please, Y/N." 

You took a breath, and the words spilled out of you, as if you couldn't say them fast enough. "I love you, Loki Laufeyson." 

You watched as the brightest smile lit up his face before he leaned in to kiss you again. "I love you, Y/N Y/L/N." He lifted you into his arms and you wrapped your legs around him, as if by instinct. Like you were meant to do this. Made for it, even. "The only damned shame is that we failed to tell each other sooner. I could have had you so much sooner." 

He began to walk you back up the stairs when the elevator doors dinged and opened to reveal Tony and the rest of the team coming back. He took one look at the two of you and blurted out, "I don't even wanna know. I'll see you the week after next, Y/N." 

"Keep the clothes, Y/N," Natasha hollered. "Suits you better anyway." 

You couldn't be bothered to respond, not like you could anyway. Your lips were otherwise occupied. So you gave a half-hearted thumbs up and waved goodbye at the team watching what was transpiring from the common area. 

"Well it's about goddamn time," you heard Wilson boom from the doors. "So who had money on tonight?" 

"I did," you heard Wanda answer him. "I told you all to never bet against me, but none of you listened. And now I'm rich. Should I silence Loki's room?" You didn't hear the response. You didn't care.

You faintly heard a door closing before you felt your back hit the silken sheets of his bed. "I must remember to thank Stark for giving you a week away from your duties," he murmured as he pressed kisses to your jaw and neck. "We have an abundance of lost time to make up for, my love." 

"Everyone knows exactly what's happening right now," you gasped out, your filter going completely out the window once again.

He pressed a kiss above your heart before looking up at you through his lashes. "Does that bother you? That they know?" 

A devious smirk graced your lips as you coyly shook your head. "Not really, no." 

A/N: Does this still count as fluff? I don't know anymore lol

"Hey, Reindeer Games, quit blocking the door, will you? I get it, you want out of here already because you can't stand being around us. Trust me, the feeling's mutual. But standing at the door while the Quinjet's still landing won't change a damn thing."

"It will guarantee that I am the first one out these doors, Stark," Loki grumbled in response, not moving an inch from his position by the door. Stark wasn't entirely wrong; he truly didn't wish to be around the billionaire, or his oaf of a brother. But he wasn't entirely right, either; if he allowed himself a moment of honesty, he wanted out of the flying vessel so that he could see you again.

You'd started working for Stark shortly after the god had been sent back to Earth due to a deal made by Thor on his behalf with their father, the Allfather, that instead of wasting away in a cell in Asgard for a thousand years, Loki would be utilized as an asset by the Avengers along with his brother as recompense for his attack on New York. When you'd started working at the tower, you recognized him immediately because of how often the news bombarded you with his face in those few days as well as the weeks – the months, really – that followed.

Not that you were complaining, of course, it was a devastatingly handsome face.

He fully expected you to recoil the moment he saw the recognition in your eyes, but just as much as you could recognize his face immediately, you saw as well that he was not the same man--god, actually--that he was all those years ago when he led the Chitauri to wreak havoc in your home. So with all the confidence you could muster, you smiled at him just like you did the rest and said it was nice to meet him. And that started the two of you on your path to where you were now, friends. Close friends, to be certain, but despite the arguments that would be made by some that you were more.

You weren't more. He would surely know if you were.

"Leave my brother be, Stark. He does not simply wish to vacate this vessel because he's itching to be away from us. He also wishes to be reunited with our dear Lady Y/N." What was that mortal expression again? Even broken clocks were right twice a day? Yes. That was Loki's current sentiment towards his brother. Oftentimes he would read situations wrong, but this time he was dead on. 

"So what's the deal with you and her anyway, Rock of Ages? You hitting that?" 

Loki straightened his stance, as if ready to battle yet again, and faced his brother and Stark. "How dare you insinuate that I would ever harm so much as a hair on her head--"

"Brother, no, you misunderstand our genius friend." He scoffed at the words. "Friend" was not a word he would use to describe Stark. "He simply means to inquire if you're laying with Lady Y/N--"

"Don't be ridiculous, brother," he hissed. "I've simply grown accustomed to her company. And she's too intelligent to get involved with someone as nefarious as I." And too pure, he thought to himself. To make the misstep of courting her would only proceed to corrupt her untainted soul. 

"Oh I get it," Stark's words broke through his reverie. "He's in love." He didn't bother to even react to that observation. "Oh. Look at that. No snarky comeback? No 'you are all of you beneath me'? Are you actually--Oh my god Thor look at him he's seething!" 

"Stark, I implore you to desist." Thor's tone was now cautious. "Perhaps just leave him be for now." Unbeknownst to the god of mischief, his brother had observed how he behaved around you. How he treated you as if you were something precious, and on the occasions that he held you, it was as if you were a delicate petal that might wilt at his touch. Thor had his suspicions, but watching how his brother reacted to Stark's words cemented them into conclusions. His brother was in love with you, and he'd chosen the path that would risk nothing but guarantee that you stayed in his life. 

When the Quinjet landed and its doors opened, Loki let out a groaned "Finally" before striding through the Tower, down a path that was most certainly not to his chambers. Anyone who crossed his path knew to stay out of his way, what with the purposeful strides and the almost gleeful look on his face, there was no doubt he was on his way to you. 

It was only when he was just a few more steps away that he realized the sun had only began to break through the night clouds, not having fully risen. You weren't due to arrive at the Tower for another three hours.

So then why was he hearing movement coming from your office? At this hour? 

He closed the distance to your office and opened the door, half expecting staff to be doing their rounds. Instead he found you, furiously typing away at your computer as you always did, but looking more frazzled than usual.

"Y/N? Darling?" 

You jumped at the sound of his voice, not even registering a few moments ago that the door had opened. You turned your head and looked at the devastatingly handsome features of the god you were fortunate enough to call your friend. Even though every time you referred to him as such, a dull ache would make itself known in your heart. You wanted more. Of course you wanted more. You'd have to be a fool to look at him, to know him the way you did, and not want more. 

But you knew better. You knew your place. You were meek and unremarkable compared to the likes of a master assassin like Natasha, or a powerful witch like Wanda. You wouldn't even be able to defend yourself in a bar fight. Being his friend was all you'd ever get. And you had to be content with that.

I am content with that, you told yourself. Fooling absolutely no one.

"You're back already?" you blurted out, realizing you'd spent a few moments too long spaced out and staring, and hoping he didn't notice. 

"Already? Darling, I was gone for four days, I--hang on." He walked towards you, taking your hand and gently tugging you up to stand. And then he took a good hard look at you, as if trying to remember something. "Something feels amiss with you." 

"Y/N? You're way too early, even for you," Natasha's voice floated in to your office. She threw a quick glance Loki's way. "Welcome back, Laufeyson." Then she turned her attention back to you. "You're in the same clothes from Monday," she remarked, the concern beginning to lace through her voice as she observed the candy packets and coffee cups littered throughout your desk.

"Yeah. Because it's Monday," you answered, wondering why these two were acting so strange. 

"Sweetie, it's Friday. The guys left for a 4-day reconnaissance mission on Monday morning. They returned today. Have you…have you been in here the entire week?" 

Realization dawned on you as the words escaped your mouth. "I haven't slept for four days?" And then your knees buckled.

If it hadn't been for the reflexes of the god who wrapped his arm around you and held you upright, you would've for sure been on your ass on the floor right about now. "Sweetheart," he whispered into your ear, making you question if your heart picking up its pace was from the copious and questionable amounts of caffeine coursing through your bloodstream, or from his proximity to you. "Have you even eaten?" 

"Do those count?" You motioned to the empty snack packets on your desk, causing him to groan as he rested his head against your temple. 

"My darling human," he murmured, the rest of his words spoken too softly to be heard over the thundering of your heart. 

"Alright, Y/N? Sweetie? I'm gonna fix you something to eat. Something proper. And then you're gonna get some sleep. I'll tell Stark you're not reporting for work today. Now go take a shower. Can you walk on your own? Loki, let her stand." He let you go, his arms poised to catch you in case you were to stumble over again; you didn't. And you managed to make your way over to Natasha without tripping over your own feet, which gave her a bit of reassurance. "Okay. Grab a change of clothes from my closet, get yourself cleaned up. Then make your way back down here and eat something before you go to sleep, okay?" 

You nodded as you made your way upstairs. You briefly heard her tell Loki not to follow you, and then holler at Wanda to make sure you made it to her room alright, and the Sokovian met you at the top of the stairs. "Y/N, you look awful. What happened?" 

"I forgot to sleep." The look she gave you prompted you to say more. "For four days." 

She looked towards the common area, chuckling to herself. "No wonder your god looks completely beside himself." 

"He's not my god, Wanda, he's--we're--we're friends." In your compromised state, you could barely contain the hurt that laced your voice as you said the words. "Just friends." 

"But you love him," she prodded. "And I've seen the way he looks at you. That's not a look of friendship, dear one." 

"You're wrong, Wan." You may be sleep deprived, but you were adamant in your convictions. "He simply tolerates me a bit more than the rest of you, that's all. That's it and that's all." 

"If you say so, my friend," she murmured as you made it to Natasha's room. You walked straight towards the shower. "Any preference?" she called from Nat's closet.

"I just want my bits covered, Wan. I'll leave the rest to you." 

Fifteen minutes later you emerged from Nat's bathroom in a fluffy white towel, eyeing the emerald green silk camisole and shorts set that Wanda laid out for you. "Really?" You proceeded to eye her.

She shrugged in response. "Suits you. Makes you look regal." 

"I'm assuming you're not familiar with the concept of wearing certain colors in Asgardian culture, then?" At least your brain seemed like it was a bit sharper, thanks to the shower. 

"No, I am." The smirk on her face told you she'd been hanging around with Thor and Nat too much. "I'm not lying about the color making you look regal, Y/N. It really does. Regal and his." 

"I'm not his," you snapped, making yourself flinch. "I mean I am, but I'm not. I'm his but he doesn't know it. He doesn't care. We're friends. That's it--"

"--and that's all," she finished. "I get it, I get it. Now I'm pretty sure that despite our friendship, sharing panties is where we draw the line, so you'll have to go without." You shrugged, figuring as much, as Wanda turned around to let you change into the borrowed clothes.

She led you back to the stairs where Loki was waiting for you at the end. He threw a look towards Wanda when he caught sight of your outfit, and you were too caught up in making sure you didn't trip that you didn't catch her mouthing a "You're welcome" his way. When you reached the bottom of the steps, he wrapped his arm around you and led you to the kitchen island where Nat had a sandwich ready for you.

"You know I'm perfectly capable of walking, right? I managed just fine a while ago." You did your best to keep your tone light, almost joking. So that he hopefully couldn't see through you and see that you were fighting every urge to swoon and fawn over your current predicament. Just friends, just friends, you chanted over and over in your head.

"I prefer having my reassurances," he answered you simply as he lifted you onto a bar stool by the island. "You're far too precious to be compromised," he whispered as he pressed a kiss to the top of your head. 

"Eat," Nat ordered, placing a glass of water as you took a bite. You winced at the sound your stomach made as your body began to recognize that it was being fed real food and not something ultra-processed and sealed into a colorful wrapper. When you finished your sandwich, she took your hand and gave you a pill. "Melatonin. Drink. Then go to my room and rest. I'll be away the whole day anyway--"

"Nonsense, she's staying with me," Loki cut her off. "You've mentioned multiple times that you keep blades hidden throughout your chambers, some of which are very well within reach of anyone sleeping in your bed, Romanoff. She's safer with me." Your blood ran cold. Sleeping in the same bed as him? In your current state of dress? Yeah, that sounded like the worst idea. 

You opened your mouth to protest but the look on his face told you that wasn't any better of an idea. He seemed hellbent on personally making sure that you were nursed back to your normal state of mortality. He motioned to the pill in your hand. "Drink it, darling." You did as you were told. "Good girl." You fought every instinct you had in order not to show the effect those words had on you. His next words, though? You were completely gone. "Let's get you to bed." 

"You know, Jack Frost, if you wanted to get dear Y/N into bed with you, you could've just asked," you heard Tony quip as he walked into the kitchen. Then he took a look at you, your sullen face and your sunken eye bags. "What happened--"

"She didn't sleep for four days," Natasha answered. 

"I was trying to find a weak point in the security system of a group called the Ten Rings, you might be familiar with them, Tony, they were--" Your words got cut off as you felt the air leave your lungs, your feet leaving the floor as the dark-haired god scooped you up into his arms and carried you up the stairs and away from the conversation. "Hey!" 

"No more talk of work, little mortal. It will still be there when you wake. For now you have to rest."

"Take next week off, Y/N! I don't want to see you in that office of yours for the next seven days!" Tony hollered from his place in the kitchen. 

When you and the god were out of sight and earshot, Nat addressed Tony. "Isn't that a bit too much? I mean today and Monday? Yeah, I understand. But the whole week? What game are you playing, Tony?" 

"Laufeyson's," he answered the assassin. "I'm giving him game. Those two are idiots in love if I've ever seen it. And call it a gut feeling, but I think one of them's finally gonna confess. The week is more a gift to him than her." 

"Aww you're warming up to him." 

"You tell anyone and the next mission I send you on is with Barnes. Just Barnes."

You finally felt the effects of the medicine kicking in as you laid in the center of Loki's bed, listening to him reading you poetry with his silken voice. You didn't want to but you felt your eyelids falling, despite wanting to keep awake a little longer just so he'd keep reading to you. 

"Sleep, my darling," he chuckled as you let out a yawn. 

What possessed you to shuffle closer to him and rest your head on his chest – his bare chest, mind you – you would never know, but you'd blame it on the Melatonin. "Thank you for making sure I don't stab myself in Natasha's bed," you mumbled against his skin, unable to register that his heartbeat had gone erratic against your ear. 

He pressed a kiss to your hair. "Of course, my precious mortal. I'll always watch out for your safety, you can hold me to this promise." He ran his fingers lightly up and down your side, trying to help you get to sleep faster, so that he could allow himself to lose his feigned composure at the feel of your soft body against his. 

You wrapped your arm tighter around him and burrowed your face into the crook of his neck as you mumbled, "I knew there was a reason I fell in love with you." 

His hand stopped. His breath stopped. He could have sworn his heart stopped as the words left your slumbering mouth. "What did you say?" he all but choked out. 

He felt you shrug against him as you said, "Why the fuck not. It's just a dream anyway." His breath hitched as he awaited your words. "I fell for you. Head first. Absolutely stupid in love." If it hadn't been for the drowsy tone of your voice he could've sworn you were awake. Or perhaps he wished you were, so that he could look into your eyes as you said these words. "I know I shouldn't be. Ruin the friendship and all that. But you didn't exactly make it impossible. You're perfect. Annoyingly perfect. And I was defenseless." 

"Oh Y/N," he breathed out. "My dear heart. My darling, beautiful little human. Are you telling me you're mine?" 

"I'm yours," you murmured. "I've always been yours." You nuzzled more into the crook of his neck, whispering against his skin, "I love you, Loki Laufeyson." The tears escaped him at those words, rolling down his cheeks. "Such a damn shame you don't feel the same way." It was as if the world had stopped turning as he felt you press your lips to his neck, letting out a contented sigh, before you fully succumbed to sleep. He had to tell himself to remember to breathe as he felt your breaths even out, letting him know that you had finally surrendered your body to rest.

The god, on the other hand, didn't sleep a wink. He couldn't. Not when there was so much he wanted to say. Not when there was so much to plan. 

A/N: Yes there will be a part 2, I'm not leaving it here. I just had to cut myself off because I'm incapable of writing short stories ahhh

Part 2 is up and available HERE!

‘That would have been great to know before I fell for you, Loki’, you seethed, your eyes stinging from the strain of holding back as your voice wavered with anger, ‘that would have been fantastic to know before you spent six months trying to sleep with me, making me adore you, just to throw it in my face after one’.

Silence.

Fall usually is where he starts to prepare to ‘hibernate’ as Sam calls it. Teasing him on it and calling him Ice Bear (Sam explained it was from a cartoon which Bucky tried to watch when Sam wasn't around. He kind of liked it better than being called Tin Man but he wouldn’t admit that.) Between those times, Bucky becomes closed off, silent and irritable to end missions. Sam learned that the hard way when they settled to a routine after the Flag Smashers and John Walker debacle.

Even when he shipped off Bucky to Louisiana so that fall and winter wouldn’t actually bother him. Bucky just knew when the season’s changed. He hates the cold and he just reverts back to prepare for hibernation and isolate himself. So when Fall comes, Bucky tries to soldier on and when Winter finally comes. He retreats to his broken down Brooklyn apartment and just be.

Bucky never really tells Sam what he does during that time. He didn’t want to tell Sam that each night, he had a hard time choosing between suffering a nightmare or having the urge to destroy. He had a hard time controlling the voices inside his head that sounded like him but not at all. Bucky is honestly getting tired of that.

His new therapist, the one he chose for himself after the government told him he can, told him that he could take his time. When he voiced his frustration (something he cannot do before and now he is trying to), the doctor assured him that it's okay not to rush. After all, he now has the power to plan or choose for his life.

So that's what Bucky did, make plans. A list of some sort, he sometimes wishes Yuri was there since he was the one who helped him last time on a personal list he made alongside the list of people he had to apologize to. But that is something that he cannot control.

He created a list one night, a few weeks before October comes. He doesn’t want to stay in, so he has to plan things to do to force himself to go out.

Try to take a walk in the morning.

Be Spontaneous.

Eat in a new place.

Try those pumpkin spice latte

Buy a new book.

Feed the birds in the park.

Meet up with Sam and Torres

Try to meet someone new.

There are a lot of tries but he took his time on his list. It might be short but Bucky was proud of it himself and he was just eager to do the list. He didn't think it would bring him to you. His doll. His best friend. His everything.

It was funny though because coincidentally, you have a list of your own similar to his. You have your own demons to face and like Bucky, you tried to create a list to push yourself out there. 

You bumped into him as Bucky was too busy looking down on his shoes trying not to flinch every few minutes of kids running around the park. While your head was down trying to fumble  with your earphones because you never really got accustomed to how noisy New York is. Though Bucky saw you or more like sensed you before the both of you collided and when he looked up.

He could have easily dodged and went out his way. He has the strength and the speed to do that but he found himself rooted in place as he just stared. Despite everything, he still has a staring problem. He was trying not to do it but there he was caught up on you.

You lifted the earphones on your eye level this time, trying to detangle the knots, your mouth pursed cutely. Your eyes fixated on it and Bucky knew you didn’t see him. Your brows scrunched together cutely and cute little whimpers came out of you. 

“Come on,” You cutely muttered as you pouted at the stubborn earphones. Bucky can’t help the twitching of his mouth as you neared completely oblivious to the 6 foot wall standing still in the middle of the park road.

He doesn’t even know why he stopped or why he let him happen. Maybe because Bucky saw something in you, something in your eyes that looked familiar to him. Despite your worry over your earphones, your eyes still darted to the side when a loud noise caught your attention. Your movements are a bit skittish.

As if you just forced yourself out to walk, just like him. Though Bucky has no time to observe you further because there was a thump against his chest and a small gasp as he looked down at the same time you looked up.

Your eyes wide as the earphones clattered on the ground between the two of you and something else fell off your hands. 

“Oh, I-I’m so—rry,” You trailed off as you stared at him wide eyed. Recognition flashing before your eyes and for a moment Bucky held his breath. Waiting for the fear or disgust or hostility yet you surprised him as your eyes warmed a bit before it became shy. You took a small step back as you put your hands over your chest.

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t watching where I am going– oh! My earphones,” you said as you crouched down but then winced a bit as you clutched onto your right leg. Bucky could hear an audible click that sounded like metal from it.

“I’ll get it for you,” He mumbled as he bent down to retrieve the earphones and not noticing the piece of paper. He picked it up and held it out for you as you thanked him. The earphones, surprisingly untangled now as you looked at in surprise. Bucky continued to stare at you, as you pulled out your phone and plugged it in. Though you had to shift a bit and Bucky heard that audible click again and you winced one more time clutching your right leg.

“Are you okay?” Bucky can’t help but ask as you look back at him surprised and confused. Bucky then motioned to your right leg and you followed it. Something changed in your expression but then it settled into a small shy smile as you looked back at him.

“I think, out of all people, you would know,” You told him as you glanced at his left arm, his metal arm.

Bucky looked down at it and clenched his gloved hand. The plates shifted as he did so, realizing what you were saying. You lost it and Bucky assumed that the metal clicking is your prosthetics.

“I-I’m sorry if you I made—”

“No worries. I should be the one to apologize. You might have been trying to take a quiet stroll and— I’ll just leave you to it,” you said in a small voice as you started to move past him. You limped a bit before it settled into a normal pacing. “Thank you for this!” You waved the earphones and then continued your way.

Bucky watched you go and glanced down at his hand but then he saw something else on the floor. A piece of paper. Curiously he bent down to retrieve it and opened it to see a list almost as similar as his own. Though he can’t help but chuckle. It's more of a reprimanding list than an actual list. He also assumed the name written was yours. The first one is already crossed out.

Take a fucking walk in the park, Y/N

Try to be outgoing, yes? Live a little,

Eat other things rather than those takeouts. STOP BEING LAZY.

Give the pumpkin spice latte a taste. Indulge your brother and his basic ass.

Finally buy that series you wanted.

Try to overcome your fear of pigeons and feed them. Count it as a good deed.

Meet with Patricia and Christine. They have been nagging you not to hibernate again.

This is wishful, fall in love. If someone would take up a girl missing her right leg. Sure.

His brows raised at the last one. Huh. That sounded—

“Hi! Did you see— oh!” Bucky looked up to see back in front of him again. Your eyes wide, your hair a bit disheveled (maybe because you panicked a bit when you couldn't find the paper.), one bud of the earphone already on your eye while the other dangles and you were breathing hard as if you ran. “You saw my list,”

Bucky jumped a bit as he blinked and immediately handed it to you.

“I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to read it over. It was just—I’m sorry,” He finished lamely as you took it gingerly from him.

“N-No it’s okay. I was just— this is just— you know what, thank you again,” You stuttered out as Bucky looked at you biting your lip. He felt the twitch in his mouth again. Then you stuffed it in your pocket carefully before turning around.

Now Bucky could have let you walk away but something about this moment pushed him to call out to you. Since number one on his list is finished, maybe moved on to number 2? 2. Be spontaneous.

“Y/N,” he called out your name hoping he was pronouncing it right. You immediately turned around, shock evident on your face.

“Hi,” you answered. It sounded like it was an automatic response judging by the way you said it with a jump. Bucky can’t help but huff out a chuckle before he clears his throat.

“Hi, I’m James Barnes—,” He started.

“I know,” You mumbled. 

Bucky then nodded caught off guard but then he soldiered on. 

“Right, I– ummm– I didn’t mean to know your name or read the list but I also have one,” He stuttered out as he pulled out his little notebook. A small black one, gifted by Sarah. It is where Bucky usually places important things he has to remember and do. He quickly flipped through the pages from the bank account of his pension and money he receives from his work with Sam. Then the numbers of selected people he wanted to contact (For the life of him, he is still having a hard time storing numbers in his phone). Then finally his list.

You patiently watched him fumble and when he looked up. You were already looking down at the list he presented to you. You tilted your head a bit as you read over it.

“I-I was wondering if you know– you want to do it together?” He mumbled as you looked up at him. For a moment the two of you just stared at each other. Bucky now felt himself being drawn in your eyes. He can’t help but admire it as the New York's sun illuminated it making it glow more as you regard him. After a while of you staring, he started to feel the heat on his cheeks. He was tempted to look away but he didn’t. He didn’t want to.

You were silent for a while until your mouth twitched and slowly it lifted to a small smile.

“You are doing your number 2?” You asked him and Bucky couldn't help but return it as he nodded. “Well, lucky. I’m doing mine too,”

Bucky can’t help but chuckle as your pulled out the bud of the earphones out of your ears and stuffed it in your pocket.

“What should we do then James?” You asked as he tucked his notebook inside his pocket. He looked around and sighed. Trying to think of something.

“I don’t know but I would love to have your number first,” He managed to say. Thanking the Gods he didn’t stutter and that made you giggle.

“Smooth,” You told him as you offered your hand. He looked at it confused and you only giggled at him. “I need to put my number in your phone,”

“Oh,” he fumbled around trying to find that damn smartphone Sam forced him to buy in exchange with the flip phone he was using before. He pulled it out and unlocked it.

Quickly you typed in your number but then Bucky heard you gasp.

“What’s wrong?”

“You don’t have any numbers in your contacts?” You said as you looked up. “Aren’t you supposed to have, I don’t know, Captain America’s number?”

“Do you want his number?” Bucky asked and you quickly shook your head.

“Nope, I got the number I want,” you told him as you continued to fiddle with his phone. You gave it back to him and pulled out your phone. He was about to look into it when his screen flashed with someone calling and your name flashed on the screen. Your full name.

“That’s my name, if you want to know,” You pointed out and ended the call. Then you fiddled with yours and turned around to show his name on your phone.

James Barnes :)

“Now you have my number, do you have anything in mind?” You asked as he regarded you for a moment before something came to mind. Something he wanted to do yet didn’t want to do it alone.

“Have you been to the aquarium?”

The rest was history and it has been a year since that happened. The both of you had gone through the list. You both hated pumpkin spice latte (which you boasted against your brother, who grumpily accepted defeat), Bucky discovered his love for Filipino food and you discovered your love for Romanian food. You finally bought the Lord of the Rings series in which you and Buck took turns to read into. Then the spontaneous trip in the Aquarium was a bust(You both decided to go in a different date than the day you both met) because Bucky got recognized and the both of you ended up feeding the pigeons instead (You promised Bucky to not show the video of you screaming for dear life as you tried to feed them. Bucky laughing his ass off for a while since his Louisiana trip).

You both introduced each other to your friend group. In which both sides proceed to tease about you and Bucky. (Until now, a betting pool between the four of them is in the works of when the two would realize their feelings for each other). The two of you remained friends through it all.

It was a great friendship but recently Bucky wanted more. So he made plans, exactly at the beginning of Fall where he met you. He was determined before winter comes that he wouldn’t spend it alone. He might have spent winter last year with you but this year, he is determined not just with you but together with you.

“Hey handsome,” Bucky looked down at you as your voice brought him out of his thoughts. The both of you are cozied up in the living room of his apartment (He had Sam’s help in making it cozier since you had been over too many times to count. Despite knowing he would be teased, he wanted to make this right). He was already going through the list he planned and it was already halfway fall. Halloween was just over and you  had spent the weekend with him last week. 

Now you are doing it again and Bucky is just so happy. Now he had just to go through the last three on his list. He was hoping to get it in order.

Give Y/N the favor from Wakanda.

Take her on a romantic date.

Make Y/N mine and me hers.

He was planning to give you today the prosthetics for your leg because the one you had has been bothering you. (You lost it when a drunk driver ran over a red light and you were riding a motorcycle with your friend. You got your leg fractured into pieces while your friend nearly died but now the two of you are alive and well. Your friend unfortunately lost her sense of taste and feeling while you lost your right leg. Surprisingly, it didn't stop you on riding motorcycles. Making Bucky fall in love with you and your strength.)

It was giving you the hardest time to walk recently and Bucky opted on carrying you around much to your protest (He’s okay with it. He likes it, loves it even, because you snuggle your face on his neck every time he does that,) Though he would have to fly you to Wakanda first to fit in the plates that would connect it. 

But you looked to have plans on your own. You have been particularly skittish around him today, restless even.

“What’s wrong doll?” You looked at him as you chewed your bottom lip. Your brows furrowed as your hands fiddle with his shirt. Bucky’s arms tightened around you as he felt your nervousness. “Are you okay?”

“Y-yeah I just,” You trailed off and then sighed deeply. Your expression shows as if you lost an internal battle before you sat up a bit. Making Bucky let go of you, he almost pouted but then you pulled out something from your pocket. A familiar looking piece of paper and you offered it to him.

“Is this your old list?” He asked as he took it from your hands. You nodded shyly as you looked down and fumbled with your (his) hoodie.

“Yes, I wanted to show you something on it. Open it,” You told him as you bit your lip harder this time. Bucky looked at you for a moment worried at the expression on your face. He has seen that numerous times since the two of you met. The look you always have when a panic is over the horizon and until it's triggered it remains there. 

He decided opening the list would have to be later as he reached to you with his left hand to touch your cheek with his palm. You instantly relaxed on it and nuzzled the metal hand. It still amazed Bucky how you weren’t afraid of it. Like you said you feel much more secure with it.

“I feel safe  with you Bucky, you won’t hurt me,”

Nobody really said those words to him. In addition to Sam, Torres, Sarah and the kids. No one put their trust and faith in him not until you came. Despite knowing what he had done and what his past was. So, when you uttered those words, that is when he knew that he was falling in love with you.  You never were afraid and you always made sure to show that nothing will ever make you leave his side. So he created his list, THE PLAN but something is bothering you since the beginning of September.

“C’mere,” He murmured as you willingly went back to his arms. You winced at the sound your prosthetic leg has made as you curled your legs to lean your whole body against Bucky. Bucky noticed it and as he wrapped his left arm around your waist, his right trailed towards the strap of your prosthetics. “Let’s relax, okay? Let me remove your prosthetics. I could see the start of your panic and I don’t want that for you Doll,” He mumbled.

You blushed at that as you nodded. His right hand quickly removed it as you helped him. An audible click was heard as you breathed a sigh of relief. Bucky took it from you and placed it against the coffee table.

“Thank you Buck,” You mumbled as you then picked the paper back up to hold it down to him. “Now open it please,”

He chuckled as he laid a kiss on your forehead. Something he started to do recently and it always makes you blush just like now. Burying your face against his chest after. He took the paper in his left hand. His arms are finally around you. You were tiny enough that he can still open the paper with his two hands.

“What is it you want me to see? Didn’t we do all of it?” He asked as he carefully opened it. “I thought you framed this,”

His list was framed, with your insistence when the two of you had done it last year and you told him you framed yours. You even showed it to him so he is slightly confused at this.

“That is a modified list, this the list you saw the first time,” You told him and when he finally opened it. He saw that all of it was crossed out except one.

8.This is wishful, fall in love. If someone would take up a girl missing her right leg. Sure.

Bucky looked up at you as you moved and produced a pen of your own. His heart was beating fast as he watched you. Is this--- He had hope and disappointment swirling inside his chest. Hope that whatever you are trying to tell him is the same as the one he is trying to tell you. Then, Disappointment that maybe you fell in love with someone else and he doesn’t know if he could take that. He was in deep with you.

“I wasn’t able to do everything yet but now I have,” You told him as you leaned down and crossed out the last one. Tears gathered in your eyes as you looked up at him. “I love you James,” 

You breathed out and Bucky’s eyes widened. He can’t help but stare as you stare back. Silence enveloped between the two of you. His mind raced but then you blinked. You have mistaken Bucky’s silence as rejection as tears freely fall from your eyes.

“I-I was gearing up to tell you because I have been in love with you for a while. I was afraid that if you d-don’t feel the same way I would lose you. I have to take the chance b-because I don’t want to see you with another woman. B-but it looks like I-I am wrong—”

“I love you,” Bucky finally said, stopping your rant as you looked up. Your eyes wide as tears fall down from it. “Oh doll, I have been gearing up to tell you this too,” He gingerly placed the paper on the coffee table before surging forward to bring you in his arms again.

You sobbed against his chest as he tightened his hold on you. His own tears threatened to come out as he buried his face against your hair inhaling your scent.

“S-say it again Buck,” you mumbled as you looked up at him.

“I love you, Y/N” Bucky said and surged forward, crashing his lips against yours. He cupped your cheeks as his thumb wiped away the tears while you clutched on to him. The two of you kissed for a while before he tilted his head to deepen the kiss. Wanting to taste you. You whimpered and Bucky still felt you crying. So instead, he slowed down the kiss and with one final peck he pulled away. “Oh baby, please stop crying. I love you okay?”

You nodded as you left Bucky to wipe your tears. “I-I was so scared and I-I chickened out numerous times to tell you,” you told him. “I was just relieved,”

“I’m sorry I didn’t speak immediately, doll. You caught me off guard,” Bucky chuckled as he couldn't help but lay a kiss on your cheeks after wiping it. “I was supposed to be the one with a surprise today but of course, you have other plans,”

You giggled at that as you laid a kiss against his jaw. “Sorry about that, thinking about it. We never really did follow the number on your list last year. I crossed out the last one of your list the day we met,” You told him.

Bucky chuckled as he thought of his own list. “Well, you are just doing exactly the same on my list this year babydoll,” He mumbled as he leaned down again to lay a kiss on your lips.

The both of you stayed like that. Kissing and savoring each other until you're pulled away and looked up at him with doe eyes.

“Sorry about ruining your list. I won’t do it next time. I promise. Forgive me?” You asked sweetly as you fluttered your lashes. Bucky can’t help but stare as he thought of a new list for next year. It will surely not be ruined as it was only one thing.

Marry Y/N. Never let her go.

“I’ll accept,” He mused as he put a kiss on your lips before he pulled away. “You’re lucky I love you,”

“I know,”

I have to make it. I have to.

"Come on, come on, come on," I breathe out, drumming my nails nervously against my steering wheel and peering around the car in front of me.

He's not answering his phone. I have to make it in time.

I take my lip between my teeth, the anxiety in my chest only rising as each second ticks by. Finally I swear under my breath and swerve around the car before me, slamming the gas pedal to the floor. A chorus of honks rises around me but I don't care. All I know is that he's going to die.

My boss is going to die if I don't make it.

You may be wondering to yourself, how did a meagerly-paid secretary end up breaking traffic laws and nearly crashing her boss's brand new Tesla just to get to him in time? Why would I even bother? Why would his life be in danger in the first place?

Well, to understand that, I'm going to have to take you back to where my life of crime began.

If my mother ever heard I had a life of crime, she'd kill me herself, so let's keep this one between us.

|||

2 Years Prior

"I'm sorry sir, but you don't have an appointment and Mr. Barnes is full for today," I repeat, quickly losing my ever-bearing patience with the brash business man before me.

His eyes dart around my desk and to the office of my boss, CEO James Barnes. I've only worked here for a few months and yet being his personal secretary is proving more difficult than I imagined.

"Look sweetheart, just let me through and I won't take but a few minutes of his time," the man pushes, not even sparing me a glance as he walks around my desk. I shoot to my feet and step in his way, not hearing the office door open behind me.

"You can either see yourself out, or I can have someone help you. Either way, sir, you're not seeing Mr. Barnes today." I assert, my heart pounding and blood boiling in indignation.

If there's one thing I've learned in my time working in Corporate America, it's that most rich and powerful men think they're so far above the rest of the world that they're entitled to open doors wherever they go. Thankfully, my boss is one of the better ones.

Definitely better than this tool in front of me. I almost scoff in disbelief when the man goes to step around me again.

"You don't scare me, sweetheart. I'm just gonna-"

I step directly in front of his path, my eyes flashing with anger.

"Either you leave right now, or I'll personally make sure you'll never get a time slot with my boss. And it's Ms. Y/L/N, not sweetheart" I grit out, standing my ground and leveling my glare at the man.

"Who do you think you-"

I feel the warmth of his presence before he even says a word.

"Do you feel a need for career-suicide, or are you just incompetent?" A dark, rough voice sounds behind me, cutting off the business man.

As my boss steps beside me, the heat of his presence washes over me and I don't even need to look over to know that his menacing face is on display. I can see it's impact in the business man's sudden desire to leave.

"Uh, I-I am so sorry sir. I'll be on my way."

As he scurries to the elevator, I feel my cheeks heat as I look over at James. His dark hair is cut short but is left long enough to be perfectly messy. His bright blue eyes are already piercing into my exhausted ones.

"Sorry for the commotion, sir. I'll try to handle them quicker next time," I start, but my nerves are lessened by the slightly impressed look upon James' features.

"I've never seen you get angry before," my boss notes, making more heat crawl up my neck.

"Yeah well, I used to let everyone use me as their doormat, but I don't let people walk all over me anymore." I respond with half of a laugh. He hums at that, his eyes trained on me.

I break the contact first, turning around suddenly to my desk to avoid the way his eyes seem to burn the air between us to nothing.

"Miss Y/L/N, can I have a word with you in my office?" He speaks again after a few agonizing moments of silence. My hands freeze and I slowly turn around to find his gaze inquisitive.

"Of course, boss" I reply, clasping my hands together to hide the way they tremble slightly. James Barnes is quite possibly the most terrifying person I've ever met, and yet the more time I spend in this job the less he scares me.

When follow his gesture to walk before him to his office, he slips his hand to the small of my back as I enter and I swear my skin sets on fire. I hurry away from his touch and into a chair as fast as I can. There's a slight hint of amusement upon his features as he settles back in his massive chair, eying me from across the desk.

"Is...is everything alright, sir?" I question after a minute of the thick silence. He sits straighter at this, leaning his forearms on his desk and clasping his hands together.

"Do you have a criminal record, Miss Y/L/N?"

His question startles me so much that it takes me a moment to respond.

"I'm...sorry?" I question, not understanding where this is going.

"Anything at all," James continues as if I didn't say a word, "Petty theft, aggravated assault, murder-"

"Sir I definitely don't have a criminal record," I cut in, my heart beginning to increase in speed. James nods, his blue eyes pinning me to the spot.

"Good, that makes you unsuspecting," he states, only heightening my confusion, "In order for you to be of best use, not to mention safe, it's best if you know exactly what it is that I do."

I sit completely dumbstruck and left with no response at all. My mouth opens and closes as I search for words, but I can't seem to find any.

"You've got a backbone and you're an honest, hard worker. That, you've proven. And, against my better judgement," Barnes pauses, his gaze taking on a somewhat softer, almost vulnerable gaze, "I trust you, Y/N."

My heart leaps into my throat and something stirs within me when he says that...that word. Y/N. My name. He said my name for the first time since he hired me. I don't know why it has such an effect on me, but it does.

Before I can stop myself, I blurt "I trust you too."

I do? When did I make that decision? And why did I just say it out loud?

Something in my boss's face shifts at my words, but he masks it with his usual cool, calm demeanor. He sits again in silence for a moment, taking in me and my response before he nods.

"The business I run is more lucrative than what the surface shows. I need someone on my side on the surface level, an associate who can assist me in matters at this office."

"This office?" I repeat, my brows furrowing together as my heart begins to race again. What does he mean by lucrative? And why is there excitement bubbling in my gut?

What he says next would change my life forever.

"I'm the White Wolf, Y/N." my boss's low voice rumbles, his eyes bright and clear, "I'm the-"

"King of organized crime, ruler of the New York mob," I interrupt, my eyes wide and my entire being not comprehending what's happening. I should leave. I should quit this job and call the police and leave. I should be terrified. But there's something in those eyes...

What I say next would start that life of crime I mentioned earlier, and quite frankly I still don't fully understand where it came from within me.

"Sure," I simply say, and the shock that splays on James' face must mirror my own.

"Sure as in..." he trails off, waiting for me to elaborate and clarify what we both know I mean. I swallow down my nerves and go with the decision my entire head is screaming against but my entire gut yells louder for.

"I'm in," I say, this time with more confidence, "Like I said before, I trust you. And I get the feeling you'd kill me if I said no."

Humor traipses across his features as he sits back in his chair in surprise. He plays with the ring in his finger, nodding slightly to me.

"That went better than planned," he murmurs, and I don't know why but I feel like smiling. My entire body is buzzing and my head is swimming, but something deep inside of me is waking up.

I've been walked all over my entire life. That's just the way it's been. I didn't know the difference between being nice and being a doormat for people's convenience until I was well into my life. As much as I hate to admit it, there's something about James Barnes that I trust, there has been since the day I met him. I felt it pull deep in my soul and now, knowing what he does and who he is...

It's time I control my fate, time that I grab my destiny and force it into motion. It's time that I stop letting people walk all over me and be the person who has a voice and a say and...and power. I've heard of the White Wolf as long as he's been around. He may be ruthless but he is not cruel. He's always looked out for the city, taken the scum off the streets and done the things the politicians refuse to. I trust James. And something deep within me is shouting that this is right, that this my destiny, that this is the strings of fate pulling.

And I know when to listen.

"Welcome, Ms. Y/L/N," James announces, standing and keeping his gaze burning down on mine, "To the real business."

|||

Seven months later.

One night, about seven months after the conversation that absolutely changed my life, I'm working overtime in the office.

My hands are dug into my hair and my eyes droop closed. I release my hold on my hair to knock back the last of an energy drink, but the liquid has little effect. I desperately read through the computer screen, hoping to solve the legal entanglement before me.

James informed me when I came into work this morning that some over-righteous beat-cop was looking too much into the business we hide behind our Property Management company. I've been here all day long trying to figure out how to file all the necessary forms to make this disappear and seem a joke. That's taken longer than I expected, though, and at nearly midnight, James and I are still here working.

"God, this is awful," I groan, dropping my head to rest on my arms upon my desk, my forehead seeping in the cool of the wood. I hear my boss's office door open but don't even bother moving. Eventually, a soft laugh sounds that makes me drag my head up and look over to its origin.

"You look absolutely pitiful" James comments, his tired eyes dancing with a humor that seeps into my own features slowly. A small smile tugs at my lips as I sit up fully.

"Thanks, that's what I was going for," I quip sarcastically.

He coughs out a laugh that makes my chest tighten slightly and some of the exhaustion part. Over the months working for the White Wolf of crime, we've become...friends. Well, as close to friends as a mob boss and his secretary can get.

"Come on, let's take a break. We've been at this for too long, I don't even know how you can think straight," James mentions. I shake my head, blinking a few times before turning back to the computer screen.

"No, I've almost got this loophole figured out and we'll be golden if I can just-" I'm cut off abruptly by a strong, calloused hand gently gripping my chin and turning it up so I'm looking at James. My heart gallops suddenly and it takes every ounce of strength to keep my composure against the charge coursing through me.

"Y/N, take a break," he mumbles so soft that a shiver runs down my spine. We stay locked like that for a moment until I nod and pull myself out of his grip by standing.

"Alright" I murmur, breaking the tense, charged moment by pointing a finger at him.

"But if you bring out alcohol on the job, so help me James Barnes I'll turn you in to the police myself," I threaten emptily. He laughs genuinely this time, and it warms my spirit.

"Come on, doll. I've got an idea" he urges, walking out to the massive open save before my desk. I eye him warily and step to it, hoping that the sudden skittering and tripping of my heart at that nickname doesn't show. He's never called me anything but my name, before. Now, it's almost too easy to forget that I work for him.

"You might wanna take your heels off," he suggests, which only heightens my confusion. Nonetheless, I slip the footwear off and walk barefoot in my pant suit to my boss.

"Should I be concerned?" I ask, bringing another humored glint to those beautiful steel eyes.

"No," Barnes says simply, my eyes darting to his forearms as he rolls up the sleeves of his button-up, "I've actually been meaning to do this for a while. You're working for me in a very dangerous business, and although your involvement is kept a secret, I want you to be able to defend yourself if anything goes wrong."

His words settle over me heavily as I shrug my  close-tailored suit jacket off and lay it on my desk. This is actually a smart idea. I sure don't want to be helpless should the time come and, lets be honest, it inevitably will.

"Okay," I reply, walking warily in front of my boss who's practically made of muscle, "Teach me."

Something dark floods his eyes that he blinks away quickly before holding his hands up in a fighting position, gesturing for me to do so. I oblige, putting my fists up in the best way I can. He walks over to me, slowly taking a few steps around my body to inspect my stance.

"Not bad," Barnes announces before stepping close to my side and placing those large hands against my torso and turning it slightly, "There, like that you can use the power you have against someone who might have a lot more than you."

His touch muddles my mind and I can't help but feel that his burning hands linger for a second longer than necessary before he steps away and back in front of me. Even as he does, I instantly feel like I'm missing something without his warmth. It's been that way since I began working here, though. Every little touch here and there has gotten me irrevocably addicted to the feel of him.

I'm so startled by the thought that it almost shows on my face. That train of thinking is...is highly unprofessional.

"Now, punch me" he orders. I hesitate, but don't lower my fists.

That's also unprofessional, and yet look at us.

"Are you sure?" I ask, and he simply nods. I shrug, "Alright then."

I throw the best punch I've got, but he dodges it easily and grabs my fist in his hand. Before I know what's happening, his leg hooks around my vulnerable one that I stepped with and he throws the momentum of my punch back at me so that I crash to the ground. I know that if he'd done that little move fully my back would've slammed into the ground along with my skull. Instead, he follows me to the ground and wraps an arm around my waist, breaking my fall and easing me to the ground as he hovers above me.

I know he means to say something, but words must die for him too when the all too small space between our bodies is realized. I can barely breathe and it's as if time itself has stopped. I watch his fingers flex on the floor by my head, almost as if he's going to reach out to me but chooses against it. All too soon, the moment is broken when James stands and extends a hand down to me. I take it and let him pull me up to standing, disappointment and relief mingling in my stomach.

"That move can save your life, especially against someone bigger than you." James says, a little bit more distantly than he was before.

I thank him quietly and watch him clear his throat and walk back to his office. He pauses when he reaches the door and looks back over at me.

"Y/N, I want you home in an hour tops." He orders. I nod, still slightly breathless.

"And if I stay longer?" I taunt, not even knowing where the words come from. He tilts his head at me, a challenging gaze taking over.

"Then I'll throw you over my shoulder and walk you out myself."

I almost think he means it from the mischief lingering in his gaze.

Sure enough, I go home an hour later.

|||

Five months later

It wasn't until about a year after I joined in on the mob business that I realized how well I was beginning to know James.

And how much more he was becoming to me.

"Y/N, can you get me-"

I cut off my boss by setting down two steaming coffee cups.

"Two triple espressos with low fat cream," I announce, before fishing the folder out from underneath my arm and setting it on the desk before him, "And the monthly finance report. The guys in finance weren't finished when I came by yesterday, so I made sure they had it done for this morning's meeting."

James stares up at me in shock for a moment. That shock is still lingering when he says, "And the meeting schedule?"

"Already in your computer, I emailed it to you last night. I also sent it out to everyone who's coming and made sure to tell Mr. Martinelli 10:30 instead of 11:00 so he arrives on time." I respond, clasping my hands before me and giving my boss a light smile.

"Oh," I exclaim, turning around suddenly and picking up the package I left by his door, "And this gift basket came with a heartfelt apology from Mr. Lankov. It did have an assortment of toffee-filled chocolates which I went ahead and removed for you."

Mr. Barnes reaches over and slides the basket I set down on his desk towards himself before looking up at me. He looks almost impressed, which is high praise enough.

"Will that be all, Mr. Barnes?" I ask when he just stares at me for another minute. I feel my entire body burning under his gaze and, as usual, the air is thick and palpable whenever we're in a room alone. His gaze hardens again into the cold, meticulous mob boss he is and he nods once

"That'll be all, thank you Ms. Y/L/N."

I nod and turn to walk out only to be stopped by his voice calling out to me again.

"Y/N?" James announces, making me turn to him again. I don't know what I expect him to say, but it certainly isn't what comes from him, "I think you are too close of a friend to be calling me James and Mr. Barnes by now."

My heart stutters, but I keep the emotion that surges from his words from splaying all across my face. He considers me a close friend, not just his secretary. When did it ever become more?

When did I ever convince myself it wasn't more.

"What would you like me to call you?" I ask, and the question seems all too formal. The corner of his lips tug up and the movement makes my stomach flip.

"Most of the people closest to me just call me Bucky," he informs, and a rush thrills my entire body as I nod and try to keep my smile small.

"If you need anything else let me know, Bucky." I reply, and something darkens in his gaze.

I'm frozen for another moment, his stare binding me to where I am. Phantom electricity skitters across my limbs and I realize how much I have to restrain myself from walking closer to him. It's almost as if he's the Earth and I'm the moon, caught in his gravity and unable to pull away, All at once I come to my senses and leave his office quicker than usual. I make sure the door is shut behind me before I press my back up against the cool surface.

My heart is pounding in my chest. That was too personal, that was all too personal and wildly unprofessional. Nothing that was said was but the way he looked at me, the way I melted in my spot at that gaze. It was all consuming, and I didn't think I could breathe in that room. He's a mob boss, my mob boss, and I'm his secretary. James...Bucky is naturally a brooding, intense sort of person so the way he looked at me wasn't unusual. The way my entire being reacted was.

And he's so much more than my boss, no matter how much I may try to ignore it.

As the day goes by, I try to rationalize it all. In the end, I know everything there is to know about him—what he likes and dislikes, his routines, his daily patterns. It's my job to, but he doesn't know that about me.

If he did he'd know that today is my...

I think that same thing over and over to comfort myself that everything is normal and okay, but it only just makes a part of me sink. It's almost as if the thought that I'm not more to him has the potential to break me.

You can only be broken by things that hold you.

I'm jarred from that thought when Bucky's voice sounds over my business phone speaker.

"Y/N, my office" He says simply, his voice holding that natural authority and sharp edge that it usually has.

I get up and am walking into his office moments later. Once I'm inside, I take notice that Bucky's hard at work on some document before him and doesn't even spare me a glance until the door clicks shut behind me. At this sound, he looks up and sets down his pen. He stands slowly and adjusts the cuffs of his suit jacket. That small movement sends my entire body into a downward spiral.

"You tried to hide something from me, Y/N," Bucky rumbles, and my stomach hits the floor.

I did? What did I try to hide?

"Sir, I'm not entirely sure what-"

My word die out as he stalks around his desk and up to me. My entire body is trembling, but not from fear, when he stops before me and stares at me so deeply that I feel like he's taken my heart straight from my chest with his bare hands. I'm not so sure he hasn't.

"It was a valiant effort, really," he muses, and I still have no idea what he's talking about, "But even if I only know you half as well as you know me, there was no way you could've hidden it."

My brows are furrowed when he finally reaches into his suit pocket and pulls out an envelope.

"Happy birthday, Y/N," My boss whispers, and the moment feels all too intimate as he hands me the envelope.

He knew it was my birthday. That thought sends a thrill through me that I wish I could forget. I look down at the envelope and back up at Bucky who stares at me with the hint of a genuine smile on his lips.

"You didn't have to..." I whisper, but he gives me a 'really' sort of look.

"You do everything for me, and I'm pretty sure my world would fall apart without you. Now open it."

That only makes my heart race harder and I can't keep away my smile as I open the envelope. Everything seems to fade away when I pull out what's inside. There's no card, just a single slip of paper. When I flip that paper over, I realize that I'm in love with him.

Because it's a round-trip ticket to Kinsale, Ireland. A place I mentioned only once months ago that I've always wanted to go to.

I look up at him, my eyes wide and already filling with tears that I refuse to let go.

"How did you know?" I breathe.

"You said it was one of your dreams to go, and it's hard to forget when you speak about something so passionately." Bucky's reply softer than I've ever heard him be.

I've seen him kill people, torture criminals, and threaten politicians. I've seen him command his mob and rule with certainty and ruthlessness. And yet here he is, giving me one of my dreams because I mentioned it once.

I love him. I know it then, and I don't think I'll ever escape it. I've loved before, but never has it felt like this. This is encompassing and devouring and scary. It's real and deep and world-shifting. How much in love I realize I am with him is the kind of love I never thought I'd get. And yet...

I know it's unprofessional, but I can't stop from stepping forward and getting on my tip toes to wrap my arms around his neck in a sudden hug. He freezes, and for a moment I wonder how long it's been since he's been hugged. Bucky gives in almost instantly and wraps his strong arms around my torso, tugging me closer to him. I decide in this moment that this is my favorite place to be. Kinsale might have been one of my dream places, but this, in his arms, has just as quickly topped the list.

All too quickly I realize the intimacy of this position and pull away, no matter how much it leaves me feeling cold and alone.

"Thank you," I whisper, clearing my throat and taking a step back, "No one's ever done anything like this for me before."

Bucky just stares at me with that all-encompassing gaze.

"Then they're all idiots," he murmurs, and my traitorous heart surges again.

This man is my boss. He's the most powerful person in this city and the last thing he'll do is care about someone as powerless as me. And yet...and yet, and yet, and yet. I can't stop.

|||

Eleven months later.

Eleven months later and I'm still just as totally screwed.

I can't stop the feelings that bubble through me, that take me over and encompass everything I am and hoped I could escape. I tried convincing myself he was nothing, tried to fall for someone else, anyone else, but I can't.

James Bucky Barnes is intoxicating in the most wonderful and awful way. And I can't quit him.

That's why I'm here at Angel's Fall, the bar every corporate associate and beat cop or detective in our slice of town finds themselves at after work. I haven't been in a while, not much liking the smell or taste of alcohol, but after spending nearly ten straight hours with Bucky that serve as a reminder that I'll never have him, I needed to take the edge off.

"Anything else I can get for you, babes?" The bartender asks as she takes a stop in front of me, giving me a friendly smile. I return the gesture and let out a long sigh, finishing out the last of my whiskey sour.

"Scotch, straight," I request, giving her a tired smile, "Thanks."

"Sure thing," she replies, instantly beginning to make my drink, "You seem like you've had a long day."

I scoff, running a hand through the hair that I freed from my low bun, "Long few months."

"That bad, huh? Well I'll keep these going till you say when, sweetie," she replies, sliding my drink to me. I give her another quiet thanks before she leaves to her job.

"Y/N? Y/N is that you?"

I furrow my brows, not putting the voice to a face. I turn towards the sound of the man to find him standing beside me. Once my eyes land on his features, my entire being runs cold. Instantly what little alcohol I had in my system sobers out and my blood freezes in my veins. It's as if I've been dunked in ice water and I find it hard to draw in breath.

"Ian. It's been ages" I comment, my voice thankfully not trembling like I expected it to be. Ian laughs before me, leaning on the bar and drinking me in with his eyes. I squirm under his gaze, which only serves to make me uncomfortable.

"Damn right," he comments, smirking at me lazily with that smile that wrecked my life nearly three years ago, "I've missed you, baby."

I bristle at the nickname, my heart flinching even if my body doesn't. I know he's probably missed me, I had to move to a new state to escape him the first time. I thought I'd done good, too. I'd gotten settled here for a while and then worked my way up to a job at Bucky's company. The past almost two years in Bucky's business have been so good for me that I almost forgot my life before it, the reason why I was so ready to take on the life of organized crime.

The reason stands before me, proof that our demons never die. They just hide away until we're vulnerable again.

"What are you doing in New York?" I ask, trying to make polite small talk and avoid the obvious elephant in the room.

The elephant being that the last time I saw him, I smashed a lamp over his head before I scrambled out of his apartment and to the nearest cab that whisked me far far away, leaving behind all of my belongings except for a wad of twenties and my cellphone.

"I got a transfer to a firm a few blocks from here not too long ago. God, you look great Y/N," Ian averts. He says my name again, almost as if he can't believe I'm standing before him. I nod, wringing my wrists and shoving my forgotten drink away from me.

"That's great, Ian." I keep it simple, knowing that if I talk too much I'll lose myself again. I spend my mental energy searching the thickening crowd of people for a way out. I even consider signaling the bartender that I need an escape.

I'm barred from my thoughts when his hand, a hand I'll never forget, skims over my arm. I jerk my attention back to him, ripping my arm away from him as fast as I can and taking a step back.

"Woah, calm down baby. No need to be so jumpy" Ian placates, that same easy, manipulative smile that would bring me crawling right back to him every time stretching across his features. It makes my blood turn to ice and my stomach roil.

"Do not touch me," I command, surprised at the strength in my tone. It's a strength I didn't have before I got this job, "You lost that right long ago."

Ian's shock is not easily hidden. He realizes in that instant that I'm not the same girl I was three years ago when he broke me and used me and ruled my emotions. I've grown and gotten stronger because someone saw the potential in me to handle power with ease, to be a part of something bigger and stronger than anything I'd been in before. It may shatter me to be around Bucky every day, but he still saved my life in ways he'll never know.

I used to see the world as good and evil, black and white. Now, after my work in the mafia, I know it's gray. There's evil in the good and good in the evil. No one is ever truly both, and sometimes the ones you think are the villains are truly the heroes.

"I-" Ian cuts himself off with a surprised laugh, his eyes incredulous upon me, "I'm sorry, when did you convince yourself of that lie?"

"What lie?" I grit out, and I almost slap myself for indulging him. I'm quickly unhinging, though, and I know that if I stay in this conversation much longer I'll break back into a remnant of who I was. I try to swallow my bile at the thought. I refuse to do that.

"The lie that you're strong. The lie that you can survive in your own, the lie that you'll be anything or anyone without me," Ian seethes, his words sickly sweet like unsuspecting poison. His words cut me so deep that I almost shatter right there as old wounds I thought had scarred over rip open. Instead, I remind myself of the strength and control I've garnered these last two years working for Bucky Barnes.

And then I slap my ex so hard across the face that my hand stings.

"I am not some helpless little girl that's still in love with you," I grit out, my tone sharper than I've ever heard it before, "You broke me once, you are not going to do it again."

His shocked eyes are so wide upon me that I almost don't register his hand raising to strike me back until my head whips hard to the side and pain explodes across my cheek. When I snap my gaze back to him, my eyes brimming with tears of rage and instability, I see him open his mouth to say something. His words don't make it out.

Not before the crowd of patrons splits and a hand closes around Ian's throat so fast and with such force that his back is slammed into the bar.

Oh, I must've forgotten to mention this before. The Angel's Fall is one of the bars the White Wolf owns.

And here the wolf is himself.

I'm so shocked by Bucky's sudden intrusion that I'm left speechless as his grip tightens on Ian's throat and he brings his face that's flooded with an icy rage close to Ian's clearly terrified one. No one lifts a finger to protest or stop my boss, because they all know who this place belongs to.

"You touch her again and I'll kill you," Bucky growls lowly, and Ian is smart enough to believe him as he nods quickly.

Something warm and bright twists in my chest at his words, even when I know any normal person would be screaming or calling the cops. I've never seen Bucky like this before, not about me at least. About his business, sure. But not me.

"When I let go, you're going to leave this bar and this city," my boss commands, his tone leaving no room for negotiation, "If I ever see you again, I will not hesitate to slit your throat."

Ian whimpers, a sound that I hadn't realized would bring me so much wicked joy, a sound that satisfies the thirst for vengeance that I hadn't even realized I held.

"Now, thank me for my mercy and apologize to Ms. Y/L/N," Bucky orders, his grip loosening enough on Ian's airways to let him gasp out the commanded words.

Once he does, Bucky lets him go. His hand isn't off of Ian's neck for two seconds before my ex-boyfriend is scurrying out of the bar. The noises resume as usual, everyone carrying on as if a man's life was not just threatened. Bucky turns his gaze, still filled with that icy rage, towards me and it softens in a way that melts me.

"Are you okay?" He asks.

I avoid the question completely, hoping he'll forget to inquire about it again.

"Thanks for that," I manage out, ignoring the burning of my now very tender cheek, "I honestly thought I had it under control but then I just had to go and slap him."

"That gives him no right to lay a hand on you," Bucky asserts, taking a step closer to me and running a gentle, calloused hand over my hurt cheek. The simple motion sends electricity surging through my entire body and I somehow feel empty when he clenches his jaw and drops his hand.

"You didn't answer my question. Are you okay?" Bucky asks again, not taking a step back.

My heart is pounding and my body is overrun with so many different emotions that I don't know what to focus on or how to stop it all. I may be looking directly into those steel blue eyes, but I'm miles and years away. Memories of Ian and a version of me I often try to forget flash through my mind and I can't stop them.

"Who said you could parade yourself around like a whore when you are mine?" Ian growls out, making me flinch back and wrap an arm around my torso.

"I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-"

My head whips to the side with the force of his hand. The sting sets in with the silence for a few moments, suffocating me and drowning me in my own pain. Then I hear him sigh and walk up to me, his hands now gentle as he turns my face up to his.

"Baby, I'm sorry. I'm so so sorry, baby. I didn't mean to do that, can you forgive me?" His words are sweet and his eyes genuinely sad. I look up at him warily and almost pull away when that breathtaking smile tugs onto his lips.

"For me, baby? I promise I'll never lay a hand on you again. I don't deserve you"

"Okay" I whisper, letting him kiss my lips and then the cheek that he'd hit again and again and again and as long as I'd keep forgiving him.

I don't even realize I'm not at the bar anymore until there's a soft click of a door behind me and I register a warm, strong hand encasing my own as Bucky leads me into what looks to be an office in the back of the bar.

I hadn't even realized I'd zoned out. I haven't done that in...in a very long time.

He lets go of my hand only to capture my face in his surprisingly gentle hold. When my eyes meet his, everything seems to quiet in the blue of his irises. Still, my mind is aching to send me back to three years ago, to broken bottles and shattered hearts patched with false kisses and pretty words.

"You're safe," Bucky assures, his face softer than I've ever seen it, "You're safe and you're here. I don't know where you went just now but I need you to come back to me, okay?"

Bucky's soothing voice brings me back to reality and grounds me to the moment until all that's left is this room and him and me.

"That's it, there you go, doll. Stay right here with me," he breathes, making my heart flutter. We stand in silence like that for a few moments that stretch for eternity, with his thumbs running across my cheeks until the consciousness returns to my gaze.

"You gonna tell me what happened?" Bucky asks, taking a step back and pulling his hands from my face. I almost make a noise of protest at the loss of contact, but stop myself. Instead, I just shrug.

"It was nothing, really. Just an ex of mine who doesn't know boundaries," I respond, but I can tell that he doesn't buy a word of it.

Bucky takes a slow step towards me again. This time when I tilt my head up to keep his gaze, something tender and almost tangible crackles in the air between us, tugging and pulling and yanking us together. In the steel of his eyes is a dichotomy of emotions, ranging from a breaking softness to a stifled rage that I don't think is directed at me. It sends shivers racing down my spine.

"Y/N," he starts, and my knees almost turn weak at that one utterance, "I think you're not telling me because you know what I'll do. But I need you to understand something before you leave this room and we go back to our daily routine."

One of his hands hooks under my chin, and his thumb grazes ever so lightly over my lip and so swiftly that I almost think I imagined it.

"I don't care who I have to kill or what I have to do. I will do anything if it means protecting you. Anything." He vows, that rage still lit in his eyes. But when I look closer, it seems to be fueled by something so much deeper, so much richer.

I don't know why the words slip past my lips but it does before my mind can stop them.

"Ian manipulated me for years," my voice is trembling and unsure and so unlike every other time I've spoken with him, "He'd use me as his punching bag and then cry on his knees for me. I was stupid then, I always came crawling back. It wasn't until this job that I learned to stand up for myself."

Bucky's entire body is as rigid as a board and I know that look in his eyes. It's the look that appears when he grows unhinged and closer to losing himself to the rage and carnal violence. His jaw clenches and he seems to compose himself.

"What do you want me to do to him?"

It's a simple question, but in his eyes I can see what Bucky wants to do. I can see it as clear as day and it sets my entire being on fire. I choke up, though, because as much as I want to open my mouth and ask for him to kill him, I can't seem to. He sees my hesitancy and nods, taking a step back from me and adjusting his suit.

"Just let me know, Y/N," Bucky states, sounding more professional again as he turns and heads towards his office door.

A sudden sense of urgency overtakes me and I dart forward, grabbing a gentle but insistent hold of his arm that makes Bucky freeze and turn back to me. His arm is in my grasp and I realize that I'm holding on to it for a sense of stability as I try to get the words out. I think he realizes it too because Bucky lets me hold his arm, his eyes boring into mine and that professionalism dropping for a moment. I open my mouth, but close it again, my entire being trembling as flashes of every horror I endured with Ian overtake me.

"I want him gone," I finally manage out, my voice barely more than a whisper, "Please,"

Bucky's eyes search my face for a moment before a certain softness overtakes his gaze. I can see in his eyes that he knows exactly what I mean, even if I can't say the words out loud. He pulls his arm from my grasp only to take a hold of my hand and bring it to his lips. My heart nearly explodes from my chest when he places a kiss to the top of my hand. My skin is ignited where his lips touched it and I almost can't think straight.

God, I'm so in love him. I love him so much it hurts.

"Done." Bucky vows, his eyes never leaving mine.

Ian's mutilated body turned up in an alleyway the next morning.

|||

Two weeks later

I don't know how everything could have gone so wrong only a few weeks later. It all just happened so fast.

"Yes sir, the catering should arrive about 7:00 pm...yes sir, thank you sir. See you then,"

Once the phone is hung up, I take the pen from behind my ear and check off the catering company from my list of gala preparations. In just a few days, the company is going to be holding its annual Employee and Beneficiary Gala. My last few days have been consumed with making sure it runs seamlessly.

"Excuse me, miss. I have a 3:15 with Mr. Barnes." A man's voice I don't recognize calls out to me.

I look up from my paper, smiling warm at the business man who stands before me. My smile falls slightly when I see that he doesn't seem all too happy at the moment, but I set it aside.

"Yes, Mr..." I pause, looking over at my computer screen and scanning for his name, "Stark?"

"That's me." Mr. Stark responds.

"Alright. I'll let Mr. Barnes know that you're here and you should be right in," I inform, giving the man a polite nod before calling Bucky. While I inform him that his appointment is here, I can't help the uneasiness in my chest at Mr. Stark's grave expression.

"You can go on in," I inform once I get off the phone, giving the man a quick smile before turning back to my work, my entire being crawling for some reason.

The meeting's normal for the first few minutes, but pretty quickly their voices begin to raise.

"You need to be careful, Barnes! Pierce and his men are looking for any in to attack our organization."

Alexander Pierce, that's the boss of Bucky's largest rival—Hydra.

"Trust me, Stark. I am careful and perfectly capable of taking care of my business." Bucky grits back. I lift my hands off my keyboard, my attention slipping to listening to the words.

"No, you're not, you're being reckless. You're getting too close and you know it! She is a weakness!" Stark practically shouts. I hear a sudden screech of chair legs on the floor and a brief silence.

Whatever is said next is too hushed for me to hear, but I'm able to catch the last few words.

"I'll take care of it. You know I will," Bucky says, and the office door opens.

"I know you will, buddy. I just needed to get you there," Stark replies, shaking Bucky's hand before turning and walking past my desk without so much of a glance.

"Have a nice day to you too," I whisper beneath my breath.

"Ms. Y/L/N, my office" Bucky says abruptly from his office. His tone seems...almost cold, unfeeling. And he called me Ms. Y/L/N.

With furrowed brows, I get up and make my way into his office, closing the door behind me per his request. I settle down in one of the chairs before his massive desk, an inexplicable worry washing over me. Nonetheless, I ignore the feeling and carry on as normal. Thinking this to be one of the many previous briefings we've had on the gala, I begin to give him my report.

"The catering company is all set for Saturday as is the decorating committee and half-orchestra. All that's left is to-"

"I'm letting you go." Bucky interrupts suddenly, his voice so nonchalant and his gaze so flippantly down on the papers before him that I almost don't register his words.

As in...he's...firing me?

"I'm...sorry?" I question, to which his jaw clenches tightly.

"You are formerly fired, Ms. Y/L/N. Effective immediately," Bucky clarifies, and it feels as though the floor's been ripped out from underneath me.

I can barely breathe let alone hear over the sudden roaring in my ears. He's firing me, after all this time?

"Bucky, I don't-"

"Sir," he interrupts, finally snapping his gaze up to mine. His tone and glare are so ferocious that I almost think he'll pull a gun on me anytime soon.

That one simple correction makes my heart shatter. He hasn't been 'sir' in I don't even know how long. And the way he's looking at me right now...it's almost like he couldn't loathe anyone more in the moment. Like he doesn't even know me. Like he didn't just kill a man for me.

Like he didn't let me fall in love with him.

Tears burn my eyes as I steel my face and straighten up in the chair, clenching my hands so hard together in my lap that they turn white.

"Sir," the word is bitter on my tongue and I feel sick to my stomach more so than I ever have, "May I ask why?"

"Your work is sloppy and your intentions with my business, both legal and not, are undecipherable. I have decided that the best intention for me and my business is to part ways irrevocably with you, Ms. Y/L/N."

It takes everything within me to not let my mouth drop open in shock. The hurt that flashes through me is so piercing and raw and real that it arrests my chest. I can't...I don't know what I did wrong.

"You're just going to let me walk away," I breathe, my jaw clenched tightly, "With everything I know about you and your mob. You've killed people for less."

His cold, calculating eyes study me for a minute before he leans back in his chair, his features the picture of nonchalance.

"You won't tell anyone. You and I both know I wouldn't hesitate to kill everyone you love and then you." Bucky informs blatantly.

That's when my heart splinters. Because I can see in his eyes that he means every single word. Emotion blocks my throat as I simply stare back at him, no longer working to hide my shock or pain. I nod once and I stand, smoothing out my silk blouse.

"I've lost everyone I love, you're out of luck there."

The lie burns so strongly on my tongue that it nearly makes me physically sick. I say it to make it true, to trick my mind and heart into believing it. I should hate him. I should loathe him with every fiber of my being. But I just...can't.

With tears that I refuse to let fall swimming in my eyes, I stare down at the man who changed my life, who stole my heart and is now breaking it.

"Whatever it is that you've been relentlessly pursuing these past years, whether it's power or money or blood," I whisper, not daring to bring my voice above it for fear that it will shake, "I hope you find it."

Bucky's gaze bores into mine, something unreadable that's nearly akin to conflict flashing through his eyes. Without a word, I turn and leave, stopping only at my desk to grab my things before leaving. Leaving this office, leaving the mob, leaving him.

And as I drive home with silent tears streaking down my cheeks, I can't ignore the gaping, pain-filled hole in my heart. I hadn't realized how much I needed that business, that man. But I have to move on. I have to.

And yet, I have this awful feeling that I'm not going to be able to.

|||

A few days later

It's the day of the gala, and it's all I can do to keep myself composed.

I've been an emotional wreck the last few days, and as much as I've tried to deny it I can't any longer. I'm in love with Barnes, I have been for a while and as bad as I want it to, it's not just going to go away. Losing the job was like losing Bucky, and I hadn't realized how much I leaned on him until he was ripped away.

"Oh come on, you stupid computer," I grumble, shoving my laptop aside as it launches into an update I didn't ask for.

When I woke up today, I decided it was time I start looking for another job. No matter how much it hurts, I have to move on if I have any chance of continuing on with my life. I was job searching when this piece of junk laptop started to reboot.

My attention is glued to my television and the show I have playing while I wait for my laptop to finish the update. I get so engrossed in the show that I almost miss it when the screen goes bright and it turns back on.

"Finally," I breathe, pulling it back to me and typing in my password.

As soon as it opens to my desktop, my laptop begins to pop up a bunch of random windows from my most used apps, just like it usually does whenever it's powered down and back up suddenly. I close them out with mild irritation, but freeze when my spreadsheet window opens up, displaying the spreadsheet I was working on last.

The guest list for the gala.

My heart stutters. I'd done so good all of today avoiding thoughts of the event only for my stupid laptop to bring it to the forefront of my mind. My heart wrenches as I can't stop myself from scrolling briefly through the list of invited guests. Near the end, I notice my name and stifle the sudden rise of emotions that inundate me.

With hasty, almost frantic fingers, I rush to delete my name from the sheet. Before I can erase my name, my eyes catch on four names at the bottom below mine. Strange. My name was the last one added. I know because I edited and set up this spreadsheet and only added myself when I had double and triple checked that everyone had been added.

Maybe Bucky found four more to invite. I try to accept the thought, but my curiosity takes the better of me and I can't stop myself from pulling up the internet on another window and searching up the first of the four names.

Xavier Taft. 34 years old, works for a bouncer service...wait. Criminal record.

My heart stutters again. With events like this, we're always so careful to keep the criminals down to only our own, and I've never seen this man's name in our regiment before. With furrowed brows, I search up the next one.

Lance Salone. Bouncer. Criminal record.

My heart is racing when I search the third.

Amanda Vice. No criminal record.

I frown, my adrenaline seizing a little bit. Maybe I was too hasty, maybe those two were just-

Oh my God.

My entire body freezes when I notice an article underneath Amanda Vice's search. She's a personal assistant, like me. But she works for Pierce Enterprises, the cover business for-

"Hydra," I whisper beneath my breath, feeling as though someone's taken the world and spun it around me.

With trembling fingers, I navigate back to the spreadsheet and look to the fourth name. I don't even need to search it up to know.

Alexander Pierce.

My heart is in my throat as I fly my cursor up to the top of my spreadsheet and check to see the editing history. My eyes scan the hundreds of entries by me until they rest in the last entry, one done by an email I don't recognize.

One I never gave permission to edit the document.

"They hacked it," I piece together aloud. Nothing seems real as I throw my laptop off of me and shoot to my feet, the world still spinning. The two bouncers, obvious muscle with the clear ability to kill.

I know I should hate Bucky, I know that I shouldn't give a damn what will go down tonight at the gala, but I can't stop myself from reaching for my phone and dialing the number I saved to my phone of the weapons dealer Bucky's mob used. The man I spoke with on Bucky's behalf many a times picks up on the third ring.

"Y/N. I haven't heard your voice in so long, how are you?" the dealer, a man by the name Nick Fury, asks.

"Nick, this is going to sound so random but I need to know if there's been any movement from Pierce or his men in the last week or so," I rush out. There's a beat of silence on the other end before Nick speaks again.

"What's this about? I thought Bucky fired you," he points out skeptically. My desperation is taking the better of me and I nearly snap.

"Damn it, Nick I just need to know! Has Hydra done anything unusual lately that you know about? If anyone would know it would be you," I practically beg. He must hear the urgency in my tone because he doesn't question me again.

"I caught word they were hanging around upstate earlier this week, they're not usually over there," Nick announces. I furrow my brows.

"Where upstate?"

"Some place called The Sky Palace. Heard they were there for a good bit of time snooping around before they got booted out," Nick answers, pausing for a moment, "Y/N, what's going on?"

I can barely breathe, let alone work up a response. The phone nearly slips from my limp fingers.

"Y/N, are you-"

"That's where the gala is tonight" I whisper, an aching, yawning sort of sensation ripping in my chest at the sudden realization that slams into me.

They're going to kill him. They're going to kill Bucky Barnes and they're going to make a move on our mob.

"I have to go," I rush out, my voice trembling and my stomach roiling with nausea, "Thank you, Nick"

"Of course."

I end the call, rushing to grab my purse and throw on the first pair of shoes I can find. As I rush out of my apartment and into the streets of New York as the sun sets low behind the buildings, I no longer think about the betrayal or hurt. I don't ruminate that I'm fired or that Bucky doesn't care for me like I do him. All I can think about is that my family isn't safe tonight, and I have to do everything in my power to protect them. All of them.

As I whistle for a taxi, my phone is already pressed to my ear and ringing as it tries by I reach my ex-boss. The call goes unanswered as I sit inside the cab.

"Where to?" The driver asks.

I almost say the venue, but pause. I set up Bucky's schedule for today, he should still be at his mansion upstate getting ready. He always did like to make grand entrances. Even if I'm wrong, it's only a ten minute drive to the venue. I give the driver Bucky's address and dial his number again as the driver speeds off.

"You've reached the voicemail box of-"

"Oh come on!" I groan out, pulling my phone away and ending the call. My heart is racing so fast that I can practically feel it trying to run out of my chest. I feel utterly powerless right now knowing that Bucky could die and I can help. What if I don't make it in time? What if he's already gone?

Tears blur my vision and sudden heart ache seizes my chest at the thought. I shove it all down and keep myself composed as I try his number again, but to no avail. Thankfully, we're pulling up to his mansion now. I pay the driver and rush out, putting in the gate code and sprinting to his front door. I don't even waste time knocking, knowing he's probably in the garage or his room, and dig up the spare key from its hiding spot to let myself in.

"Bucky!" I shout as soon as I'm in, slamming the door behind me.

There's no response.

"Bucky please! Are you here?" I shout again, but the silence rings in my ears.

One quick check of his room shows he's not here and when I sprint into the garage, I see one of his twenty cars missing.

I missed him. He's already gone.

I curse, checking my phone to see that he's running fifteen minutes ahead of schedule, something he never does. Of all days to be more punctual to his own event, tonight was probably the worst. I hesitate for only a moment as I ponder what to do.

"You'll forgive me later," I mutter to myself before I spin on my heels and jog to the key rack by the door. I swipe the first set I find and press the button only to find his brand new, cherry red Tesla lighting up.

If things weren't so dire, I'd squeal in excitement.

I don't waste time with giddiness, though, and sprint to the car. I'm inside and have the engine running in record time. Not one minute later, I'm peeling out of the garage and onto the road with screeching tires. I press the gas pedal nearly all the way to the floor, the engine roaring in my ears as I whip into the traffic.

I have to make it. I have to.

|||

And here we are, all caught up.

I hope you understand now more than you did before why I'm so desperate to get to Bucky in time. I hadn't realized it fully in the moment before, but now that I just might lose him, I know that he's everything to me. I wouldn't be half the woman I am without him and his constant assurance that I was strong and skilled and perfectly able to stand up for myself.

I can't lose him, not when he's so much more than a boss to me. So much more.

I cut the ten minute drive to the gala down to four. My headlights cut thought the pitch black night as I swerve up to The Sky Palace that's teeming with cars and richly dressed guests. The Tesla screeches as I grind to a halt before a group of gasping patrons and a wide-eyed valet.

His eyes grow wider when he sees me step out of it in a pair of jeans and a hoodie.

"Don't scratch this car if you want to live," I advise as I toss the young valet the keys. He must think I'm joking because his gaze flashes with humor.

He doesn't realize I'm being dead serious.

I don't care a modicum about the horrified, disgusted looks I'm getting from the elite who are still making their way to the Palace's entrance nor do I care about their cries as I break into a sprint and shove past them all.

I can't let him die, I can't let Pierce hurt my family. I can't.

I only stop running when I reach the two men guarding the front entrance with iPads to check in guests. I know them both, since both happen to be members of Bucky's mob. Their eyebrows furrow once they see me approaching them.

"Y/N?" One asks, his eyes nearly popping from his head, "Boss won't like it that you're here."

"Let me in, Sam," I order, my chest heaving with breath, "He's in danger, you're all in danger."

The two men's eyes widen and they share a look for a moment before glancing back to me.

"Y/N," the other begins, but the panic is getting too much and I cut him off.

"Listen, you're all in trouble. The business is in danger of being thrown into chaos, and your boss-" my voice cuts off with sudden emotion, tears swimming in my gaze, "Your boss is going to die if you don't let me in right now."

They only hesitate a moment longer before they step aside. Relief like I've never known it crashes through me. Just before I walk in, though, Sam catches my arm.

"I don't know what the hell's going on, but we're already falling apart without you. We...he needs you, Y/N," Sam whispers.

My heart tugs painfully in my chest and that same hole opens again. I miss them all, I miss the mob and the meetings where we'd all mess around like kids. I miss Bucky.

And with that last thought, I give Sam a nod before turning and jogging into the Palace.

Classical music wafts into the air, broken up only by soft chatter, laughter, and the clinking of glasses. The gala is classy and elegant and beautifully well-done, but I don't take time to admire any of that. Instead, I race through the room in search of Bucky.

I receive more than one disgusted glare and scoff at my apparel and messy, unkempt hair. I don't give one damn as I try to blend in as much as possible to not alert Pierce or his men while searching for Bucky.

I stop when I reach the grand staircase that leads to an upper balcony, taking the advantage of the steps and climbing a few to see the room from a birds eye view. It only takes me a few seconds to spot Bucky near the center of the room. My heart squeezes in my chest and I almost sob in relief to see him alive and safe. Just before I move to rush down the stairs and towards him, I hear a click from the top of the stair case.

I whip my gaze up in time to see one of the two bouncers from the list, Xavier Taft, begin setting up a sniper rifle atop the dimly lit balcony that no one but him stands atop.

My heart stops. Time freezes. My stomach hits the floor and all I can think about is that I can't lose him.

"No," I breathe, snapping my gaze down to see the gun trained on Bucky.

When I look at him, I see Sam at his side and speaking in rushed tones, probably about me. Knowing I don't have many options left, my mind works in overdrive to figure out the best way possible to do this. I need to cause a distraction, one to catch Xavier's attention long enough for me to finish climbing the stairs and get that gun away from him. At the same time, though, I need Bucky to see it happen, I need him to know his life is in danger so Lance Salone, the other bouncer, doesn't surprise attack him.

Bucky's just snapped his head towards Sam, his brows furrowed and his jaw tight when I make my move, my nerves humming.

"BUCKY LOOK OUT!" I shout, my voice piercing and carrying out over the room. Instantly, Bucky's head snaps up to where I am on the stairs and his entire body goes rigid.

I don't waste time watching him any longer and begin to sprint up the last of the stairs and towards Xavier who curses. He wasn't ready to shoot yet, I timed it perfectly. Beneath me, Bucky sees the gun trained at him and he sees Xavier, who now has his gaze on me. Bucky's entire body changes again into a mode of desperation, but I don't see it. I'm focused on closing the distance between me and the gun that's almost ready.

"Y/N!" Bucky roars, but I'm barely listening over the chaos in my brain.

"Bitch!" Xavier growls, cocking the rifle hastily and wrapping his finger around the trigger. He's too late, because I finish bounding up the stairs and crash into him, knocking him off of his feet and shoving the gun off balance enough so that the bullet he intended for Bucky slams into the roof instead.

Xavier's body slams into the marble tile as I tackle him, but he quickly overpowers me, flipping us over so I'm beneath him. Below us, I can hear screaming and glass shattering, but above the panic I swear I can hear a voice bellowing my name.

I scramble out from underneath Xavier before he can pin me, shooting to my feet and sprinting to the sniper rifle still sitting on the balcony. Just as I hear Xavier get up behind me, I knock the rifle over and send it careening down into the panicking crowd.

"I'll kill you for that!" I hear Xavier spit from behind me, and I whirl just in time to see him throwing a fist at me.

Time suddenly slows, and it's like I'm back in the office that day ages ago where Bucky tried to teach me self-defense. My body remembers the way he grounded me from my punch before my mind does, and I snap back to reality just in time to dodge Xavier's punch. Just like Bucky did to me then, I hook my leg around his and use his momentum to shove him to ground. I crash down on top of him and practically feel the slam of his head into the marble below him.

"Y/N!"

My entire body jumps at Bucky's voice, now close to me. I snap my head around to see him bounding up the stairs, blood splattered across his tuxedo as if he killed a man himself down there during the chaos. I almost sob in relief. He's okay. I melt beneath his gaze that bores down into me as he stoops down to reach out to me.

His hand is inches from me when his eyes snap up to something behind me and horror flashes through his face a millisecond before a hand wraps around my waist and wrenches me to my feet and away from Xavier's unconscious body. I gasp, and the world suddenly goes very still and very quiet as the cool of a gun presses underneath my chin, forcing it up slightly. My stomach hits the floor and I hardly find it in me to breathe.

Bucky stands ever so slowly in front of me, his jaw clenched and his eyes spelling murder.

"Leave her alone, Pierce," Bucky orders, and sudden fear clamps over me.

Alexander Pierce has me at gun point.

"Why? I'm actually quite taken with your girl," Pierce responds, tightening his hold on my waist. I squeeze my eyes shut for a moment at the disgust and fear rolling through me before looking back at Bucky. He catches my slight movement and his fury heightens.

"Pierce, I swear to God if you kill her I will skin you alive," Bucky growls.

"See, now we're getting somewhere," Alexander announces, but I can hear the annoyance in his voice. This isn't what he wanted to happen, "What are you willing to give for her life?"

Immediate tears spring to my eyes and I meet Bucky's gaze again.

"No," I beg immediately, not daring to shake my head because of the gun beneath it, "Let me die. I'd rather die."

Bucky works hard to keep the cold exterior upon his face, but I can see between the cracks that he's...he's terrified.

It's only when Alexander moves his arm that restrains me to cover my mouth that I realize my slim window of opportunity. Without thinking, I slam my free hands into the gun that Pierce holds to the underside of my chin hard enough that it knocks his hand away. His hold loosens in sudden shock and I rip away at the same moment that Bucky darts forward and grabs ahold of me, ripping me to him and immediately crushing me into his side for protection as he rips out his own guns and shoots before Pierce can even recover.

The bullet finds its target perfectly, right between his eyes, and it's over.

My entire body is trembling so violently that I cling to Bucky, scared that my knees will give way from the adrenaline. I've never been in a situation like that before, never been so close to death. Bucky drops the gun from his hold and switches his full attention to me, probably realizing just how pale I've turned and how badly I'm shaking.

Keeping one arm secured around my waist, he runs the other through my hair, his steel blue eyes taking in every feature of mine.

"You saved my life," Bucky murmurs, his hold on me so tight in the most protective sort of way, almost as if he's just as terrified as me, "Even after I fired and threatened you."

I shake my head, tears of relief pooling in my eyes.

"I couldn't let you die."

Bucky's jaw clenches and before he can react I throw my hands around his neck, hugging him close to me. He reacts instantly, wrapping both massive arms around my waist and pulling me close to him, holding me tighter than I ever have been.

"Don't ever do that again, doll," Bucky mumbles into my hair, clenching my hoodie in his fists, "Don't be willing to die for me. I don't deserve it."

I don't know why tears are gathering in my eyes but I find I can't blink them away. I only tighten my grip, nuzzling my head into his neck.

"I don't think I can promise that," I breathe, and my next words come out before I can even stop them, "You'll always be deserving."

Bucky pulls away so fast that my heart lurches into my throat. His eyes examine mine so frantically, so dangerously, so desperately as he holds me out from him. His chest is heaving, almost as bad as mine.

"I did it to protect you, you have to know that. Everything that happened before, it was all to keep them away from you," Bucky swears, and my heart stutters at the look in his eyes, as if the police and ambulance sirens filling the air alongside the shouting don't exist.

"Why?" I breathe, hoping on everything he'll say what I think he will. Bucky brings a hand to cup my cheek, shaking his head at me with something almost close to tears in his eyes.

"You're my only weakness, Y/N, and they know it. Everyone knows it," Bucky murmurs and I swear I stop breathing, "If it came to you or the world I'd pick you every time."

My chest is so tightly constricted that I can hardly draw in any breaths. My chest is moving just as fast as his and butterflies are pressing into my stomach in anticipation for whatever is thick in the air between us.

"Don't ever fire me again," I order, and a low chuckle leaves his lips. My humor drains in a second though, and suddenly it's hard to speak without my voice trembling, "I don't think I'll survive it."

Something breaks in his gaze, softens it and turns it so tender and passionate that my skin tingles. He brings his other hand to cup my face to, so I feel completely under his control.

"Are you sure this is what you want?" He asks carefully, his eyes searching mine, "This life will never slow down. Someone will always want to take you from me."

"I'm sure," I whisper, not even hesitating.

His lips are on mine before the words are even fully out of my mouth. My heart leaps out of my chest as I melt into him, pulling him closer as our lips move in perfect harmony. My entire body feels like liquid and lightning all at once and he's the only thing left in the world. One of his hands finds their way into my hair, leaving me completely at his mercy. When he finally pulls back, he leaves a breath of a kiss on my nose and then my forehead before tilting my chin up to meet his gaze.

"You've been more to me for a long time now, doll" Bucky breathes, and a shiver rushes down my spine. He's so beautiful. A smile twitches onto my lips as I caress his stubble-covered cheek.

"I think how I feel is pretty obvious, considering I did tackle a fully grown man for you," I remark, and a surprised laugh rumbles out of him. The sound nearly turns me weak.

"And it was probably the scariest and hottest thing you've ever done," Bucky assures. This time I laugh and kiss him again, but we're both more serious after it.

"This life may not be safe," he begins, his thumb running over my lip, "But you always will be. As long as I'm here, you'll always be safe."

"I love you, Bucky" I whisper, my words a promise. He freezes, something new and bright flashing through his gaze. I don't think he's ever heard those words before.

"I've always loved you, and I always will," he swears, and for a moment my life is completely and totally content.

It doesn't matter what's happening around us, it doesn't even matter that I nearly died a few times in one day. With Bucky by my side, I feel invincible, I feel strong and capable.

"I don't think I can be your secretary any more," I whisper, and his smile is back, turning my insides to butterflies.

"No, I've got a better idea," he smirks, kissing me quickly.

The next day, Bucky would introduce me to the mob as his equal partner.

The King and Queen of crime.

And it would stay like that for the rest of our time.

I don't know when exactly Bucky Barnes became more than my boss, maybe it was always. Maybe I should have known I was in trouble from the beginning, but it's the best kind of trouble. So, if you ever get the chance to do something a little crazy, maybe something you never thought you would, but it just feels right, then you need to do it.

“And leave me helpless.” You bristle and one of those perfect eyebrows raise. “I have not been reliant on a man since I was 17, I have no plans to start now.” The left side of his mouth quirks up and for the second time you want to knock the smirk off of his face. He’s been charming but you know what he is, he’s just like your father. He’s the owner of the, admittedly beautiful, cage that you’ve found yourself in. “I’ll need to go back to Boston within the next couple of weeks to get my things.”

“That’s fine, just let me know when you want to go and I’ll send some of my people to help you.”

“I’ll have Bobbi and Lance.”

“I can spare a few people to help.”

“I don’t need them.” You argue and he raises his eyebrows at you. “It’s one small apartment and I learned very quickly to not value things you can’t carry on you.”

“What do you mean?”

“Everything I value is on me, my grandma’s ring, my mom’s necklace, her mom’s earrings. I really don’t need anything else.” You tell him with a shrug, he just studies you.

“Let’s go to my office and talk. I want to have an honest conversation with you.” You nod then follow him through the house, up some stairs and down a hallway. He unlocks a door then gestures for you to enter. He sits in the chair behind the desk and you sit across from him.

“So, you said that you were in Boston. Why is that?”

“Because that’s where my mother was from and where my grandmother was.”

“Did your father give you a choice in this?”

“In what?” You need a moment to come up with a lie.

“In coming here, to be my wife.” You open your mouth to lie to him, to tell him it was fine but when you meet his gaze you know it’s not in your best option to lie.

“No.”

“Then why did you?” You give him a look that practically screams disbelief. Is he really asking you this question? “I recall asking you if you signed of your own free will and you said yes. Did he threaten you?”

“Not me.”

“Lance or Bobbi then?”

“Yes.” You don’t give him more information and he scowls at you, “For the first time I had value.”

“Why did you choose me over your own family?”

“They are not my family.” You say coldly, “I hate them.”

“What about me?”

“What about you?”

“Do you hate me?”

“I could if you like.” You tell him giving him a sweet smile and again he laughs,

“You are not what I thought I was going to get in this deal.” Before you can ask what exactly he thought he was getting he continues, “I thought I was going to get a spoiled princess, now I see why they call you Queenie, you’ll truly make an excellent queen.”

“Bold of you to assume that I want anything to do with your business.” You tell him arching an eyebrow at him. Steve leans back in his seat and lets out a small huff of air.

“I think I should tell you my expectations for our little partnership.” He says folding his arms over his chest. “I already told you that I demand your loyalty, that is nonnegotiable. I expect your respect, honesty and partnership.”

“Fine, if we’re giving out expectations than here are mine. I will get my own space, Lance stays, I get your loyalty, respect and honesty. I will not be involved in the dirty details of your business but I will go to one event with you a month.”

“Two. and we have two date nights a month.” He counters and you blink at him,

“Date nights?”

“Yes, you know where I take you out. We maybe do dinner or some other fun activity. I woo you a little.”

“Why?”

“I would like to get to know my wife.”

“I’m not though. You didn’t sign the marriage license.”

“I plan to. I just didn’t to piss off Ward and freak out Grant.” He says with a devilish smile and you suddenly realize that you’ve underestimated him.

“So, do we have a deal?” You ask and he gives you a little half smirk.

“We do, let’s make it official and I’ll write up a contract.” He agrees and you furrow your eyebrows at him but you don’t argue. He opens his computer then quickly types up a document and prints it. Steve signs the document first then passes it to you and after you read it quickly you sign it too then Steve takes it back.

“Do you prefer Queenie?”

“Yes.” He nods then stands up, “Would you like a tour?”

“I suppose that’s a good idea.” Time to see your cage, you don’t believe for a second that Steve is just going to let you wander around outside of the house without one of his people with you. Steve walks you through the house pointing out rooms you’ll need to know, bathroom, office space for you, guest room,

“Our room.” You freeze and glare up at him.

“What?”

“Our room.”

“No, I told you my own room, and you agreed.” You argue and he gives you an amused look.

“You said your own space, not your own bedroom. I showed you your own space, that pretty, airy, office a few doors back.”

“I hope you have two beds in there.” You sneer and he grins like he enjoys pissing you off.

“Nope.”

“Then I hope you enjoy the floor.” He laughs then, throwing his head back in glee.

“Oh I love this,” He murmurs, “You are going to keep me on my toes aren’t you Queenie?”

“I’m not joking.” You snap and Steve shoves his hands into his pockets.

“Oh, I know. I won’t be sleeping on the floor.” He says pushing the door open to your bedroom, “But you’re welcome to.” The bed is large, in the middle of the far wall with floor to ceiling windows on either side of it. The windows face a backyard, how does he have so much room in Brooklyn? There’s a large bathroom on the left and a closet next to it. There’s an extremely plush chair in the far corner and a tall bookshelf next to it. Does he like to read or is that just for show? You don’t enter the room, instead you fold your arms over your chest and scowl up at him.

“I’m not sleeping in there.”

“You are.” Steve warns lowly, “I don’t care if you sleep in that chair but you will sleep in this room.”

“No.” You glare up at him and he glares back down at you, neither of you say anything.

“Steve, you have that meeting with Stark in twenty.” Bucky calls up the stairs breaking your little glare off.

“You’re coming with.”

“Like hell.”

“You agreed to two.”

“And you want to call that in today, on day one?”

“You’re part of this deal.” Nausea rolls through your stomach, bile creeping up your throat and you manage to choke out,

“You’re selling me too? Is that all that I’m good for? To be given as a piece of ass to whatever man other men need to woo?” You’d thought that you were going to be at least a little safer here than you had been with your father. Apparently the joke is on you. You don’t realize that there are tears in your eyes until it registers that Steve is gently shushing you.

“No, no, Queenie, I didn’t mean it like that. I need your power.” He soothes, his hands cupping your cheeks his thumb catches a stray tear that falls. “I’ll never ask you to leave, I’ll never try to get rid of you.” His voice is soft but you can feel the honesty in it but it scares you how quickly you’ve accepted his comfort. You quickly pull away from him and wipe your eyes, square your shoulders and life your chin.

“Shall we then?”

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