kurt wagner is a geniune pleasure to be around, and even more so to be in a relationship with. he's kindhearted, faithful, and observant. in short, the boy is the picture perfect boyfriend. i'd let him date my daughter.

our favorite blue boy would call you names like "liebling", "mein schatz", or "mein engel". he'd bamf into your personal space after a long day, collapse against your shoulder, and mumble ; "i missed you dearly, liebling," into the fabric of your shirt.

he worries that his appearance - his not-quite-human hands and blue skin - will deter you someday. when he touches you, it's light, gentle, like you are glass about to break, and he's ready to pull away at a moment's notice, if you are ever uncomfortable.

if you ask, he'd happily share parts of his faith with you. he would teach you to properly light incense, tell you biblical stories, pray for you. he never presses or pushes, simply shares. late night talks about theology turn into confessions about identity and worship, he's a very good listener.

he likes to lay in bed with you, a book in one hand and his other combing through your hair. his chest is a soft pillow beneath your head, the sound of turning pages is a metronome that lures you to sleep hours before he shuts his eyes. he doesn't mind that you always drift off - kurt's just happy to be included!

if you're a mutant or x-man, he'd be glad to train and spar with you - mostly just to teleport behind you and wrap his arms around your waist. he'd never admit it, but he relishes the way you blush and squirm. if you glare at him, he'd just smile innocently, "schatz, you cannot stay angry when i am this charming."

when you're upset, he goes out of the way to make you smile or laugh again - theatrical voices, exaggerated bows, over-the-top declarations of love, anything to see your lips curve upwards.

his tail wraps around your wrist sometimes on instinct, when you're walking together, or asleep, a simple pressure to reassure you that he's there.

kurt believes you are the only proof he needs that god loves him.

if gambit is your boyfriend, you are cher now. there's no debate about it. that's about the only thing he'll call you - maybe 'mon amour' if he's feeling particularly romantic.

uses his sticky fingers to take things from you, just to tease. he'll swipe a ring from your finger or your wallet from your back pocket without you noticing and hold it just out of reach if you try to get it back. he grins when you lean in close and make a grab at your items.

he physically cannot keep his hands to himself. he's always putting an arm around you, threading your hands together, hooking a finger in your belt loop to pull you close and kiss you deeply ... it's kind of hard to get away from him.

if you nudge him away, he'd raise his hands in surrender, lips swollen from kissing, "alright, alright, i see how it is." and backs off. for now.

teaches you card games (along with how to cheat). if you ask nicely, he might show you how to throw them, too. standing behind you, hands guiding yours. very illegal, very sexy.

sleeping next to you is one of the few times he actually lets his guard down. he slings an arm over your waist, buries his face in your shoulder or chest, and sleeps like the dead til late in the morning. it's a good sign, it means he trusts you entirely.

deeply protective. keeps a hand on your lower back in thick crowds, watches for pickpockets, and always positions himself a little closer to danger. he won't risk you.

opens up about his past to you, and doesn't beat around the bush about it. "i wasn't a good person, cher. still ain't. don't feel like you gotta hang around a thief like me."

you assure him that you don't care, that he is a good person, and you swear you see a visible weight lift from his shoulders.

remy doesn't open up easily, but sharing his guilt with you, hearing your reassurances, it makes him look at you like you hung the stars - like you're an anchor in a storm.

oh, johnny storm, professional playboy, inexperienced partner.

he's used to flings, to pretty girls or guys that he shares a drink or a dance with and then forgets about. but then you come along and all of the sudden he's thrown into something he doesn't want to lose in a few hours.

don't get me wrong. he's still a menace, a flirt, and a kid at heart. he's always showing off, lighting candles or cigarettes with unnecessary flames licking up his arm to impress you - "relax, babe, i got this."

but there are the moments, the things you notice. his shaking hands, the way he cups your face, the way he looks at you - eyes so full of adoration - those are the things that convince you he sees you as more than a fun night.

he gets jealous easily. so easily. and he's not subtle about it. he's petty. if someone gets too close or too forward with you, he'd waltz up beside you and tug you into his side, a forced smile on his face, "hi -" he says to the offender, gesturing pointedly to himself, - "boyfriend." he'd turn to you then, "hey, BABE. remember when you promised to get dinner? let's go."

you never promised anything like that, but he tugs you away anyways, glancing over his shoulder to give that guy a 'i'm watching you' glare.

calls you "babe" or "hot stuff" and means it.

he likes to pick you up. bridal style, over his shoulder, spinning in his arms. he'll trap you in place so he can pepper kisses over your face, relishing in the way you laugh.

he gets competitive over literally anything and everything. video games, cooking, who can kiss longer. unfortunately, he's not the type to let you win. he is, however, the type to pout and whine when you beat him anyways.

johnny sees himself as the weakest link in the fantastic four. the youngest, the most reckless, the problem, so to say. tell him you're proud of him, or that you see how hard he tries, and he melts instantly, all goo-goo eyes and dreamy smiles, "aw, geez, babe - i mean. i know. of course i know that. i'm awesome."

he's hyper, he's active and touchy and reckless and on fire most of the time, but he lets himself cool off around you.

wolverine is prime grumpy x sunshine material. he's the grump. obviously. he pretends not to like your affection, or to be annoyed at any enthusiasm, but he grumbles when you pull away and sighs when things are too quiet.

logan is careful around you. he heals. you don't. he doesn't so much as think about drawing his claws around you. if you get a paper cut, he's hovering, muttering something about 'infections' as he hands you a band aid.

he smells like leather and cedar. you steal his jackets - they're huge on you - and he pretends not to care. he likes when you sit on the hood of a car as he fixes it. what can he say? it's a nice view.

he's kind of feral. he loves when you scratch his scalp or run your fingers through his hair (not that he'd ever admit that). when you're alone, he'll lay his head in your lap with a tired groan, peeking one judgmental eye open until you card your fingers through his tangled locks.

typa guy to bite. do with that what you will.

he's a glorified blanket when he's asleep. he rolls over, resting his entire weight on your body, and doesn't move again til morning.

very domestic boyfriend. he'll wake up before you and slip out of bed to make breakfast. he fixes things around your place before you can get around to it - you'll wake up one day and have a working sink again.

he'd call you "my girl" or "my guy" and then move on with his day.

if someone's getting too close, he shoves at their shoulder so they stumble away from you, "find someone else to bother, bub." he grunts, slinging an arm around your shoulder.

he'd take a bullet or a knife for you, grumbling about how, "next time, you should duck," when you fuss over him. kiss his scars and he'll malfunction.

logan might act like he doesn't do relationships, but he's pretty damn devoted to you.

loki is dramatic, obsessive, eccentric. but, despite all that, he's completely and utterly entranced by you.

pet names are excessive. "my darling", "my heart", "mortal", "dearest", whatever he can think of to fluster you.

he uses his magic to conjure illusions for you. green flowers appear in your hand, his outfit changes to something you offhandedly mentioned you like seeing on men, his words are emphasized by a gust of wind that came out of nowhere.

he also brings you artifacts as gifts - though they may be cursed. "it's enchanted," he says as he presses a glowing stone into your hand. he'll remove it from the premises before it erupts, no need to worry.

jealous in a 'i'm disgusted by any man that isn't me' type of way. "enjoyed his company, did you?" he'll ask, "what horrid taste you have."

he's touchy. but not in that johnny storm, golden retriever way, in a more elegant way. a hand on your waist or at the small of your back, his finger tilting your chin up so you'll look at him, his shoulder brushing yours as he passes by.

definitely recites poetry to you, bowing before you and extending his hand to offer a rose. please play along with his theatrics, he thinks himself very alluring. you'll hurt his feelings if you tell him the truth.

like i said, he's dramatic. he takes every small thing from you as a sign that he's failed and you've fallen out of love. you sigh quietly? he's at your side with a frown in a second, "do you tire of me already, mortal?"

he thinks you're extraordinary. not because you're powerful or strong, though you very well may be, but because you chose to stay with him.

loki is intense, sometimes too intense. but his love for you isn't malicious, it isn't lust or control or anything of the sort. it's love in a "i would choose you in every timeline" kind of way. love that transcends mortality and godhood. though that love is only a small part of your mortal life, it lasts an eternity for him.

peter parker is already anxious. you make it so much worse! but in the best way possible. you make his hands sweat and his mind race and his words slip up. he sometimes forgets you're dating and he's allowed to touch you and kiss you and talk to you.

tries to flirt. trips over his words. "you look pretty today. not that you don't always look pretty - you're always pretty i just .. never mind."

when he remembers he's already you're boyfriend, he still acts like he needs explicit permission. he'll tap your pinky with his when he wants to hold hands, pause inches away from you when he wants to kiss, and slowly, so slowly wrap his arms around you at night, giving you ample time to pull away.

protective in a nervous way. "hey, are you safe?" "text me when you get home - actually call me. actually facetime me." "i can walk you home - if you want, i mean."

type of guy to stick a love letter to your window with a web or sneak into your dorm in the middle of the night to bring you flowers. he tugs his mask off with a grin, "i know, i know, i'll be quick." he whispers, shoving the flowers into your hands, kissing your cheek, and swinging back into the city.

the spider-man kiss happens a lot. he really likes it.

he says 'i love you' first and it's probably on accident. after, he's all, "i just - i mean - i wanted to tell you - you don't have to say it back! unless you want to -"

please cut him off. he won't stop talking unless you do.

nerds out to you about science or movies or video games. he wants you to watch all of his favorites - but he'll talk during them, "did you know that guy is in dune? yeah, and he's also in ..."

he likes when you compliment him. it makes him preen and puff out his chest like a proud bird. tell him "you're really strong." and he'll say, "really? you think so? i mean - yeah, yeah, uh, spiders and their proportional strength and all of that."

falls asleep ALL THE TIME when you two are together. partly because he barely sleeps at home, but mostly because you're just so warm and so easy to lean against and you smell so good .. yeah, poor guy is out like a light.

aunt may approves of you.

peter is the type of boyfriend to kiss you like you'll slip away, to grasp your hands like it's the greatest honor. he's so very proud to have won you over.

“How’d you get prettier while I was gone, hm?” Steve murmurs, and while he will admit to purposefully flirting, he totally means it. He imagined your face plenty of times while he was away, but it could never compare to how you look right now.

You flush. “Steve.”

Steve’s chest aches. He loves the way you say his name, all flustered like that. Egged on now, he doubles down. “Seriously, honey, it was only a week,” he says, feigning disbelief. “Can’t you give a guy a break?”

“Oh my god,” you mumble, and hide your face in his chest, hands screwed into the sides of his jacket.

Steve laughs, giddy with fondness. “Hey, that’s not fair. I haven’t seen you all week and now you’re hiding from me? Come out,” he says firmly.

You emerge then, still flustered, but your lovesick smile mirrors Steve’s own. Steve curves his arm tighter around your waist and dips down to kiss you on the mouth. You push up into the kiss like you were waiting for it, your lips warm and soft, tasting of mint. Steve, too eager and somehow still unaware of his strength, accidentally holds you so tight you’re forced up onto your tiptoes from the pressure of it. But you only hum against his mouth, content to be manhandled. Steve decides he’s never going on another mission again.

“I love you,” he murmurs against your lips.

When he pulls away, you’re flushed as ever.

“You’re unbelievable,” you say, but you make it sound like I love you, too.

Steve just grins. “Yeah, I know,” he says. “C’mon, let’s sit down and you can tell me about your week.”

He guides you to the living room, half carrying you. You’re clinging to his arm like a leech, seeming unwilling to let him go. Steve’s not complaining. He doesn’t want to let go either, not for a long time.

“Did you eat yet?” You ask him on the way to the couch.

Steve nods. “Yeah, babe. Ate on the way home.” He knew if he came home without having eaten, you’d insist on making him something, despite the late hour. Besides, Sam insisted on stopping for Mexican on the way back.

Steve sits on the couch and tugs you down with him. You end up sitting sideways in his lap, your knees bent up in front of your chest, looking like everything Steve’s ever wanted. He holds your waist and tries not to smother you right then and there. He wants to hear about your week, every detail.

“Tell me what you did this week,” he says, rubbing big circles into your back.

You smile at him, eyes crinkling at the corners, and press one hand to his chest. Steve’s heart thud thud thuds like it wants out. He’d let it jump right out and land in your hands, if he could.

“Okay,” you say. You push your hand up his shoulder to hold his neck. “So, after you left on Monday, I…”

You launch into an explanation of the week, sparing no details — you know by now that when Steve wants to hear about something, he wants to hear everything. Meanwhile Steve listens, half super eager to take in everything you’re saying, half mesmerised into a quiet lull by how lovely you look in his lap like this, your hand slowly trudging up into his hair as you talk.

You tell him about work, about how you went and looked at cats at the adoption shelter on Tuesday, about the new pasta recipe you made last night, and that there’s leftovers in the fridge if you want some, baby. He listens until you start to droop, your body slowly slumping into his chest.

“And then, yest’day I got the groceries,” you’re saying, your words slurring together at the ends like you’ve got a spoonful of honey in your mouth. “But they didn’t hav’any of that chocolate you like, Steve, so I went to th’store out by…by—“

You cut yourself off with a deep yawn, your shoulders rolling back languidly. Steve rubs your back.

“Honey,” he says, both amused and so, so fond.

You blink at him. “Hm?”

Steve gets his hand under your jaw and tilts you to look at him. You look like you’re doing a great deal to keep your eyes from falling shut. He pushes his hand down to your shoulder and thumbs your collarbone.

“You’re blurring your words together,” he tells you. “Time for bed?”

You frown. “Wasn’t finished,” you say, looking somewhat put out.

Steve laughs softly through his nose. You’re so cute he could eat you.

“S’okay. You can finish telling me tomorrow, yeah?” He strokes hair from your neck gently, his other hand pushing under your shirt to feel your warm skin. He spreads his hand over the small of your back. “You’re tired, babe.”

His touching seems to have the effect he hoped for — you practically melt in his lap, your shoulders going lax as you lean into him.

“Okay,” you say, compliant as putty in his hands.

Steve takes you to bed. He leaves you under the covers while he brushes his teeth and gets changed, assuming you’ll be asleep by the time he’s done. But when he slides into bed next to you, you reach for him.

“Missed you,” you murmur softly, pushing your arm across his chest in the dark.

The mission turned a dark turn when more Hydra soldiers ambushed you unexpectedly.

"Gonna need some backup here," you say into the comms as the Hydra soldiers began to shoot at you. You hid behind a pillar as you reached into your pocket. You pulled out your dice container to see you only had one dice left.

Your dice were your best hidden weapon. Whatever number it laded on, the amount of force would be used against your opponents. While one was enough to blind people, six was usually what you wanted for this situation.

“Fuck,” you mumbled.

"I'm on my way," you heard Bucky say.

You looked back at the Hydra soldiers before tossing your last dice over to them.

“Please land on a six,” you mumbled. You watched as it landed on a five before it exploded, sending the soldiers to fly back. You smiled before turning to see a soldier in front of you.

“Oh shit,” you sighed. The soldiers quickly grabbed you by the throat before throwing you to the side. You kicked his legs, knocking him down as you quickly got up. You felt someone grab you, making you look to see more soldiers appear. They slammed you against the wall hard, making you groan in pain.

“Thought you could defeat us huh?” The soldier taunted. You saw from the corner of your eye as Bucky showed up.

Bucky watched as your body was thrown back against the wall. Hard. He could hear your groan as you tried to get up. Before he could go to you, he felt him take over.

You heard gunshots and yelling as you slowly woke up. You turned to your side to see Bucky fighting killing the people that attacked you.

"Bucky," you say weakly.

Your vision began to blur a little. But you managed to see Sam fly over to you. He picked you up gently but you let out a small whimper in pain.

The Winter Soldier's head snapped over to you as he watched Sam carry you. The Winter Soldier aimed his gun at him.

"It's okay. I'm just gonna bring her to the Quinjet," Sam tells Bucky quickly. Or at least who he thought was Bucky.

"не трогай ее (Don't touch her)," the Winter Soldier says to Sam.

Sam's eyes widen a little.

"Cap. We got a code snow," Sam tells into the comms. You heard the code as you struggled to stay awake.

Code Snow. Bucky turned back to the Winter Soldier.

"Where are you?" Steve asked as he finished fighting off two Hydra agents.

"Second floor in the computer room. Y/n's badly injured," Sam explained.

"I'm on my way. Try to get her to the Quinjet," Steve said.

"Soldat," you weakly say. The Winter Soldier snapped his head over to your face. "Let him... take me... to get help."

The Winter Soldier watched as your head tilted back, blacking out from the blood loss and your injuries.

"Bucky!" Steve called out as he reached you three in the room. The Winter Soldier looked over at Steve as Sam took the opportunity to fly you back to the Quinjet.

"She'll be okay. Just come with us and you can stay by her side," Steve tells him. The Winter Soldier tilted his head before walking out of the room, pushing Steve aside.

The two met up with the rest of the team as they were ready to go. They got what was needed and they needed to get back to get you healed.

Everyone kept their distance as The Winter Soldier stride over towards you. You were lying down as you were unconscious. They did the best they could to prevent more blood loss.

"Friday. Alert the doctors that we got one injured badly. ETA is an hour," Tony said.

"Doctors alerted."

Once the team got back, The Winter Soldier carried you over to the infirmary. He stood close by as the doctors fixed you up. You lied asleep on the bed while The Winter Soldier never left his spot near you.

Two days later, you woke up. You looked to see that you were in the infirmary in the Avengers Tower. You looked around to see Bucky sitting next to you, watching you intensely.

"Bucky? What time is it?" You groaned a little. The Winter Soldier didn't say anything to you.

"Bucky? Are you okay? I'm fine. The guy just got me off guard," you tell him.

The Winter Soldier continued to stay in silence. You stared at Bucky before noticing Steve by your door. You tried to motion for him to come in but he shook his head. You tilted your head confused before seeing a note he had written.

Code Snow.

Your eyes widen a little. You looked at The Winter Soldier as he stared at you.

"Soldat. I'm okay. I'm healing," you tell him.

"ты пострадал (You got hurt)."

"Soldat. Speak English, please. You know I don't know Russian," you sighed. You only knew three words. Soldier, yes, and no.

"You got hurt."

"I'm okay now. You dealt with the people who hurt me right?"

"да."

"Good. Can I have Bucky now?" You asked.

"нет."

"Why not?" You asked.

"Need to make sure you're okay," he tells you.

"I'm okay now," you assure to him. The Winter Solider shook his head. You let out a sigh, knowing he wouldn't give up anytime soon.

This wasn't the first time Bucky had reverted back to the Winter Soldier. At first he fought everyone. Until you showed up. Then he became more protective. Possessive even.

And during those time, you had to wait it out. And usually, that's when you both would fall asleep. Locked in your room with The Winter Soldier holding you close to him.

Steve and Bruce suggested it was Bucky's feelings towards you that prevented the Winter Soldier from harming you. But Bruce also suggested that the Winter Soldier saw you as his handler given how close he would allow you to get to him.

"Soldat. Let a doctor come in so they can check on me," you tell him. He nodded, allowing you to press the button by your bed. You watched as a doctor walk in and check on your vitals.

"Okay. You are good to go. I highly against going on another mission right now. Let your body rest. No training until I've given the all clear. I'll see you next week for a check up," the doctor told you.

"Thank you."

You changed into some of your leisure clothes before walking out of the recovery room with The Winter Soldier staying close to you. Waiting for someone that dared to touch you.

"Y/n, you okay?" Steve asked, keeping his distance.

"Yeah. I got it covered," you tell him.

"You sure?"

"When has he ever harmed me before?" You asked.

It was true. Throughout the time you met Bucky, he was always gentle with you. Then when you experienced The Winter Soldier first hand, he never touched you. He let you touch his cheek or hold his hand but he would never make the first move.

"We'll stand by if you need us," Steve tells you.

"Will do."

You walked to your room to shower before you ate. The Winter Soldier stayed outside your room as you grabbed your clothes from the closet.

"Soldat. You can come in," you tell him from your closet.

You walked out to see him standing in the middle of your room.

"I'm gonna shower. You can stay by the door in case I need help," you tell him. He gave you a nod before you walked into your bathroom to shower.

The warm shower felt good on your body. But you were more hungry than tired. After showering and changing into some new, fresh clothes you walked out to see The Winter Soldier still standing where you left him.

"Are you hungry? Did you eat?" You asked him.

"нет."

"Come on. Let's eat. You and I both need it," you tell him, gently taking his hand in yours.

You led him to the kitchen where Wanda and Steve were at. They looked over at you and The Winter Soldier as you began to take out some ingredients to make some food. The Winter Soldier stayed nearby you as you began to prep.

"How are you feeling?" Wanda asked.

"I'm fine. I've slept long enough and I am starving," you tell her.

"And Bucky?"

"He'll come back. He always does," you say. "You two want dinner too?"

"I'm good. I already ate," Wanda tells you.

"Same here," Steve said. You nodded in response.

Because you were unconscious for two days, you didn't feel tired. You sat on the rooftop, enjoying the fresh air. What you loved about the Avengers Tower was the view of New York City.

The Winter Soldier stayed nearby, not sitting but standing guard. You looked over at him before reaching your hand out to him.

"Soldat. Come sit with me," you tell him. The Winter Soldier walked over, holding your hand with his right one. He sat in front of you, letting you continue to hold his hand in yours.

"Soldat, can I have Bucky back please?" You asked.

"нет."

"Why not?"

"Because he didn't protect you."

"He protects me well enough. I was just caught by surprise by the ambush," you tell him.

"I have to protect you," The Winter Soldier tells you.

"I'm okay. If anything, I just need to train better," you assure him.

"You need to be protected," The Winter Soldier tells you.

"I can handle myself. As much as I appreciate your protectiveness, I want Bucky back."

"Why? Why have him back when he can't protect you?"

"He can. I want him back because I need him right now," you tell him.

"Need him for what?"

"To tell him that I'm okay. That it wasn't his fault," you explain.

The Winter Soldier stared at you before shaking his head.

"Soldat. I expect him back soon. But for now, just look at the city with me," you tell him as you looked back at the skyline.

"I would never let anyone or anything hurt you," The Winter Soldier tells you. You looked over at him and smiled softly.

"I know you wouldn't. And neither would Bucky," you remind him.

You couldn't sleep until the next night. When you woke up, you felt Bucky's arm wrapped around your waist. You turned around to see Bucky asleep next to you. You gently touch his cheek, making him wake up.

"Bucky?" You asked.

"It's me sweetheart," Bucky assures to you. You kissed him softly, grateful that he was back.

"Are you okay?" You asked him.

"I should be asking you that."

"I'm fine."

"Did he hurt you?"

"He has never hurt me before. There's no difference now," you tell him. Bucky nodded before pressing his forehead against yours. He snuck in another kiss on your lips.

"You need to be more careful," Bucky tells you.

"When I'm cleared, you can train me more," you smiled softly.

"I should let Steve know that I'm okay," Bucky said, getting up. You sat up from your bed.

"Wanna take me to breakfast afterwards?" You asked.

"How can I say no to you?" Bucky asked, walking back over to kiss you.

"I'm gonna get changed then."

"I won't be long. Come rescue me if I am taking too long," Bucky joked.