#animnerd

♡ — On the days you are too exhausted or in a bad mood, Arthur will do your camp chores for you without asking. He brushes down your horse and will take you into town for dinner, helping you onto and off your mount—fully knowing you can manage by yourself—and holding the door open for you as well.  

♡ — If men at the bar ogle you, Arthur is quick to put a stop to it. Not in a manner that is possessive or predicated on jealousy, but as response to demanding you be treated respectfully. He is not beyond squaring up to a rowdy cowhand, though, and will throw punches if his words are ineffective. Afterwards, when you kiss his cheek in gratitude and stroke your thumb across his hand tenderly, his coarse demeanor dissolves in a blush.

♡ — Speaking of physical touches, it takes Arthur time to warm up to receiving them. He tends not to focus on what he wants and puts others’ needs above his. Undoing his old habit of self-deprecation requires pulling out the roots of turmoil in his past, which will be heart-achingly painful, but it opens a new doorway of intimacy and leads him to be more amorous with you than before.

♡ — Soft and full of disbelief, your first kiss together is the product of a thousand dreams of doing so, with none of them able to compare. The way he melts into you, breathes in deep and pulls you in close by the hips leaves you breathless and dazed with bliss. At the perfect warmth of his embrace, you sigh and hold onto his jacket, the fur of his coat collar soft as a lamb’s ear to the touch. Upon departure he thumbs your chin, and those eyes of his open; soft as September skies, swaying with green, clouded with blue, dilating at the sight of you. In that moment, without him having to say it, you know how beautiful you are to him.

♡ — Arthur loves spending time with you. He makes good company on walks and likes to join you for mid-afternoon naps beneath the shade of an oak tree. Lying with his head in your lap, an hour can pass without a word as he sketches the landscape in his journal. You are more than happy to relax with a book, running your fingers through his hair until the heat of the day abates. Watching sunsets together also becomes a favorite pastime. He hugs you from behind and kisses your temple all the while, content to stay that way until long after the sun sinks beneath the horizon.

♡ — When he has to spend the day away working he makes sure to make it up to you, regardless of the reassurance of your understanding. He brings you coffee in bed, traces his knuckles along your cheek and kisses the tip of your nose to wake you. The sight of his handsome face and the longing in his expression is one you are loathe to see go, but you cup his stubbled cheek and needlessly remind him to be careful.

♡ — During his travels, Arthur comes across countless secluded and tranquil spots in nature. Creeks winding within aspen groves, meadows of wildflowers, hillsides patched with poppies and daisies, ponds ringed with water lilies and surveilled by herons—he finds so many places he wants to share with you.

♡ — Once in a while you get the chance to spend the night with him away from camp, having each other all to yourselves. Arthur will bring you to one of the placid places he has found: a lake nestled deep within a forest of silver spruces, where the cool waters glimmer with moonlit ripples and stars salt the clear sky. He builds a fire and pitches his tent, your bedrolls unfurled beside each other. Dinner consists of seasoned game meat and canned goods, and afterwards you share a bottle of gin to unwind. Childhood stories and your joining laughter fills the night, and before long you wheedle Arthur into dancing with you on the lakeshore.

♡ — With all that troubles him, the simple comfort of holding you in his arms and swaying to the tune of the nightfall chorus of wind and still waters sinks him into the deepest state of peace he has ever known. Closing his eyes, smelling the pine needles and the enchanting perfume of your skin, an overwhelming wish fills him to never leave—to take you away from the life you both lead. As he clenches his hands in your clothes and lays his cheek upon your head, he hopes you feel the same. By the sigh you hum against his chest, and the way you snuggle closer to him, his doubts vanish. The stars glisten in your eyes when he holds your head in his hands and you await the three words on his tongue. But you say them first.

♡ — He says your name in the gentlest way, and nothing else. What begins as sweet and reverent transforms into heated and hurried as you kiss, an urgent need swelling between you as you shuffle inside the tent. Always so gentle, Arthur’s hands are delicate as he lays you down, drifting over you as dreamily as the clouds in a silent summer heaven. Warm against your throat, his mouth seeks the fact of your pulse and presses against it indulgently, your sighs spurring him to venture farther. Downwards from your collarbone he trails, lips and touch, to the opening of your blouse, undoing the buttons with deft fingers. The dividing of your thighs around his hips lures his hands to your waist and brings his darkened eyes to yours, silently asking if you wanted him, this—truly.

♡ — All it takes is a nod. He thumbs the line of your smile, a tacit and an infinite implication of his gratitude, and descends, his mouth warm against the parting between your breasts. In the night your arms wrap tight around him, and all of the spaces between you fit together and fall into place harmoniously, like bits of colored glass in a kaleidoscope. Surrounding you, completing you, at the height of it all he tells you how beautiful of a dream you are to him and you are lost. The way he looks at you, sees you, feels like no one ever has before him.  

♡ — In the morning he wakes before you to the peace of birdsong and a turquoise sky. Lying beside you, he admires the softness of your sleeping figure, embedding the image of you in his memory. He leaves you to your rest and fishes for trout. The humming of a familiar tune and the stirring smell of breakfast in a pan draws you from your dreams, flitting your eyes open to the sight of Arthur squatting by the fire in his undershirt, his suspenders dangling. The shadows of the treetops fall over him and waver in the wind, the sunlight catching the glint of gold in his hair. Pine and wood smoke hangs in the air, and the surface of the lake ripples with the splashes of fish and a gliding string of ducks. What makes the picture perfect to you is Arthur, his posture relaxed and at ease. Never before had his face looked so young and carefree.

♡ — When you emerge from the tent flaps in his shirt, he greets you with a smile, handing you a plate and gesturing to the coffee. But you stoop down and tip his chin, melding your mouths in a long, lingering kiss lush with affection and ripe with a promise. His lashes blink at you dazedly as you pull away with a smirk, asking if he slept well. His response pulls your heartstrings tenderly, because as few as the words were, you knew how infinitely much they implied.

It took a couple days for the cookie dough thief to strike again, but they did and you knew you'd caught them red handed.

Instead of making your cookies right away, you opened the app for the camera and went through the footage to figure out who it was.

And the answer shocked you.

"STEVE!" you exclaimed as you watched captain morality himself eating a spoonful of your cookie dough. You looked up from your phone to see the thief standing across the kitchen from you. Instead of saying anything else, you pointed up to the hidden camera.

His eyes widened as he looked from the camera to the freezer and then back at you. He knew you knew what he had done.

You put your hands on your hips and glared at him.

"It's really good?" he offered, lamely.

"That's all you're going to say?!" you demanded. "You're a cookie dough thief!"

"I know, I'm sorry," he said, the shame showing on his face. "You make the best cookies I've ever eaten. And you were gone on a mission and I needed something sweet and it was just there. And then once I tasted it that first time… it was like I was addicted to it. I couldn't get enough."

"You think I make the best cookies?" you asked, surprised.

He nodded his head.

"Thank you," you found yourself saying. Then shook your head. "Wait a second, you still owe me ingredients. They're not cheap you know."

"I'll buy you whatever you need," he promised. "Maybe I can help you make them or something?"

"Ok," you replied.

Neither you or Steve were aware of the audience in the hall just outside the kitchen.

"Are you kidding me?" Sam asked the others. "I snuck one cookie and she nearly killed me. He sneaks her cookie dough and she gets all soft and girly with him all because he said they were the best cookies he's ever had?"