Preference #9: Your first kiss with him.
“I swear to GOD Y/N, I am not drunk, seriously,” Tony said, his words slurring together. One of his arms was slung around your shoulder and you were all but dragging him to his bedroom.
“You never were a good liar,” you sighed, opening his bedroom door and entering, turning on the lights.
“Hey, I am an excellent liar,” he said a little too loudly in your ear.
“Sure Tony,” you said, not wanting to argue. You led him to his bed and he flopped onto his stomach.
“Like earlier tonight when I said I didn’t like your dress,” his words were muffled by a pillow, but you still understood him. “You totally believed me!“
You stared at him in disbelief and placed your hands on your hips. “You are a piece of work, Tony Stark,” you said, chuckling under your breath. He sat up suddenly and your eyes met. He was standing in an instant, still staring deeply into your eyes.
“Um… Tony?” you said, confused out of your mind. He leaned in, his eyes closing and his lips capturing yours in a passionate but gentle kiss. Your eyes went wide and you froze, unsure of what to do.
Once you regained your senses, you pushed him away gently, your hands staying on his chest.
“Only a little.”
“Tony, this is the alcohol, not you.”
“Y/N, I promise, I’ll remember this tomorrow. And I’ll still mean it. I’ll even do it again.”
He did remember, and he did kiss you again. This time, you kissed back.
You were grinning ear to ear as the ferris wheel slowly descended. Your boyfriend, Steve, had your hand in a death grip, his eyes straight ahead and focused. You looked at him as you got further and further away from the ground, your inner child showing through your smile.
“Don’t tell me the amazing Captain America is afraid of heights. You jumped out of a quinjet without a parachute once, Steve!” you said, running your free hand over his forearm soothingly. He took a deep breath and met your gaze, an adorable half smile on his lips.
“I did that to save people, I try not to think about it in the field. Thinking about your fears while on a mission can cost lives,” he said.
“You hang out with Fury too much,” you said, smiling wider as you reached the top. You squeezed his hand, reassuring him.
“Can I distract you, maybe?” you said in a flirty tone. He was too in-the-zone to notice your change in demeanor.
“How?” he said, his eyes distant, trying desperately not to look down. You turned his head toward you and connected your lips with his, your eyes fluttering closed. He kissed back after a few moments, registering the situation. His hand flew to your cheek, his lips moving in sync with yours.
Maybe having fears wasn’t so bad.
You stoked the fire in the fire place and stood, watching the flames spread around the pieces of wood. You were at Clint’s place, and as nice as it was, the heating was shit in the winter. He had finally managed to get some time off, and was back home with you.
“Any luck?” he said from his place on the couch, huddled up inside of at least five blankets. His attempts at keeping the fire alive were for naught. So you’d given it a shot.
“Actually, yes. Should warm up any time now,” you said proudly, sitting down next to him on the sofa. He opened the blankets up to you and you crawled over to him. Warmth enveloped your body as you cuddled into his arms, the heat from the fire illuminating the dark room.
You looked up at Clint, the shadows from the flames dancing across his face. He met your gaze and smiled at you, and you suddenly noticed just how close your faces were.
You seized the opportunity and leaned closer, your lips brushing against his. He followed suit and attempted to close the space between you. You grinned and finally pressed your lips to his.
You weren’t sure if it was the fire or the heat from Clint’s close proximity, but you knew that you were definitely warming up.
You were clumsy. It was just a true fact that you were, no matter how much you tried to deny it. You couldn’t count on one hand how many times you’d accidentally tripped over your other teammates, but this, this was different.
You were standing in the lab, attempting to help Tony and Bruce with something they’d cooked up. You were reading through paperwork when it happened.
You’d taken a step forward, and tripped over a stray chord laying on the floor. You flew forward, attempting to catch yourself on anything. Instead, you fell straight into Bruce. Your lips connected momentarily, before you both pulled away and Bruce steadied you from your fall.
“Are you okay?” he asked, as if nothing had happened. Your eyes were wide, your mouth agape.
“I-I’m okay,” you stuttered, your cheeks turning redder than Tony’s suit.
“Okay,” he said, smiling at you. You could have sworn you saw him wink as he walked away.
If there was one thing you loved more than Thor, it was Asgard, his home world. You constantly begged him to take you there, show you around, see whatever there was to see. The two of you weren’t together, but it was almost like you were. You were always spending time together whenever you got the chance.
“Enjoying the view, Y/N?” Thor said, approaching you from the side. You glanced at him and smiled before returning your gaze to the view outside of the window. You were inside the palace, enjoying your surroundings in contentment.
“I am, actually,” you said, sighing inwardly to yourself.
“As am I,” he said, partly to himself. He was observing you, enjoying the way you looked when you spaced out, the way you looked when your eyes sparkled.
Before he knew what he was doing, he was leaning into you, his hand caressing your cheek. His lips were suddenly on yours in a gentle, hesitant kiss, as if waiting for your approval. You kissed back, smiling into the kiss and placing your hands on his chest.
The view wasn’t nearly as good as this.
Your boyfriend, the speedster. Always on the run, always going faster than necessary. The only aspect of his life he didn’t take quickly was his relationship with you. It took him weeks to even get comfortable calling you his girlfriend, and months to even sleep in the same bed as you. You didn’t mind too much, because you understood how hard it was for him to be close to anyone other than his sister.
“Hey Pietro,” you said as a gust of wind blew your hair in your face. He was in front of you in half a second.
“Hello, dragul meu*,” he said, moving your hair out of your smiling face. He never noticed how lovely your lips were, especially when they were curved in that beautiful half-smile.
“Pietro?” you said, noticing his gaze.
“Hm?” he said, sounding distracted.
“Just kiss me already.”
So he did.
*dragul meu- my love, Romanian.
Loki wasn’t exactly what you would call the typical romantic type. More like the I’d-literally-conquer-worlds-for-you romantic type. There were mutual feelings between you, but it had never really been said out loud. You were both very hesitant when it came to romantic relationships, but for some reason, being together but not together just felt right. You were currently sitting in bed, reading one of your favorite books when he came in, closing the door in a huff and removing his cloak.
“Everything okay?” you asked, your eyes never straying from your book. When he didn’t say anything, you began to worry, so you finally looked up.
He was shirtless, standing in front of the open door to the balcony. His shoulders were tense, more so than usual. You set your book to the side and made your way over to him.
“Loki?” you said, running your hand over his back. He took a sharp breath inward and finally looked at you, his jaw set.
“Bad day?” you asked. He only nodded in response, his gaze returning to the distance.
You sighed and took his chin in your hands, forcing him to look at you. You pressed your lips to his and ran a hand through his hair soothingly. He practically melted into the kiss, his worries thrown into the wind.
You never thought that your first kiss with Bucky would be in the middle of a mission. Gun shots and grenades don’t exactly equal romance. It was, however, very typical of your relationship.
You threw a grenade around the corner and held tight to your gun, waiting for the sound to go off. You looked over at Bucky, who was looking at you with a smile on his face.
“You’re cute when you’re fighting bad guys,” he said, winking at you. You rolled your eyes, chuckling at his remark.
“And you’re handsome when you have an automatic gun,” you said sarcastically, turning around the corner as the grenade went off in the distance. You held up your gun and scanned the room. You felt to arms turn you around by your hips and you yelped, but you were cut off by two lips crashing into yours. You nearly shot the perpetrator before you realized that it was Bucky. You kissed back for a moment but pulled away, smiling to yourself.
“Later,” you whispered in his ear before turning and strutting away. He followed, maybe a little too quickly.