Disclaimer: I don't own The Avengers.
Summary: Steve kisses just how she thought he would - gentle, sweet, respectful, with his hands softly cradling her face. SteveMaria, oneshot
I decided to give these two another shot! I've written for them before, and the responses were positive, which I was extremely grateful for, so I just wanted to write for them once more, with something a bit less…vague, material wise. And this is not vague at all, haha. Anyway, I hope that y'all enjoy this! Thanks so much for reading!
Premonition
She breathes in, out.
In, out.
Routine is key for her keeping her head.
Maria cannot let him know the effect he is having on her at this very moment. She cannot let him see the way her hands tangle with themselves behind her back. She cannot let him see her chest heave with each laborious breath. She cannot let him hear the beating of her heart, thrumming away beneath her breastbone. She is not sure why, but the bizarre sense of self-preservation has overcome her, and she cannot find a way to free herself from it.
He, however, has no qualms with this situation.
Steve Rogers is free in his smiles, unconcerned with the affects they might be having on her person. He knows what he knows: a smile means you are happy. He does not fake smiles, he is far too honest for that.
And he is positively beaming at her right now, no teeth, just a sweet curve of his lips, but it is just as earth shattering as any other action he could have made.
They are so close together, almost painfully so, and Maria inhales his scent. He smells of sweat and innocence and she does not dare reach out a hand to touch his arm like she so desires. Because as soon as she touches his skin, stretched taught across his muscles, she knows that there is no coming back.
He cocks his head at her restraint, sensing it, his blue eyes clear and wide with wonderment, and he says her name. The very sound of the syllables coming from his tongue is enough to send her into a frenzy. She restrains herself from pressing her fingers against his arm yet again.
She swallows, finds that she can barely see straight. Nothing is more important than his eyes, not in this moment.
Steve makes the first move, his hands pressing lightly on her shoulders, a comforting gesture, but the simple initiation of touch causes her to want more. She cannot want more. This cannot happen. Instead of relaxing her like his touch had intended, her shoulders tense up even tighter.
Maria does not know what her face is displaying at this moment in time - it would surprise her if it showed anything other than complete and utter denial of desire. That was a battle she was fighting and losing. One moment she would be gaining the upper hand on her feelings and in the next, he would do something as simple as look at her and she would be a stupid, clichéd ball of mush.
And everything comes crashing down the minute he leans in.
For a moment she is stunned, unknowing of what to do. In her shocked expectation of what is to come, she stands still and unmoving, as if awaiting some kind of torture.
His lips meet hers.
Steve kisses just how she thought he would - gentle, sweet, respectful, with his hands softly cradling her face. He's so much taller than her that she has to stand on the tips of her toes just to reach. His large hands are capable of so many displays of strength, yet with her it is as if she is as delicate as an eggshell, and he is afraid of breaking her.
But Maria is not so fragile.
She returns the kiss with a desperation that surprises her, embarrasses her. She fists her fingers in the material of his shirt and pulls herself as close to him as she can muster. Pressed so tightly against him, Maria can feel each and every curve of his musculature. She can feel the rhythm of his heart as it thrums against his chest, can feel the shocked tautness of his back as she wraps her arms around him.
His hands are so gentle as they caress her face that, had she not known him, she would have assumed he was teasing her. Soon, though, they move from her face, down her shoulders, to rest on the swell of her small hips before they move to interlock behind her. He pulls her close, and this very action shocks her, because it feels very protective. Possessive almost.
The kiss deepens, his lips moving strong and sure against her own. Maria has to bite back a moan as his fingers start to drift up and down the curve of her back, following the bumps of her spine where they raise from her skin. Had that been done by any other individual, she would have not had the same reaction. But now, even the simplest of touches sets her skin on fire.
She finds that her hands have now come to rest on his chest. She relishes the feel of his strong muscles beneath her fingers, spreads them out along the expanse of his shirt. Maria needs to breath, feels her lungs start to burn, but she doesn't want to. If she parts from him, she might not have this again.
As if sensing her need for oxygen, Steve slows the kiss down, the desperate portion of it gone, and with it returns the innocence of when their lips first met. His hands move to encircle each of her wrists, and he pulls away with a smile, that same smile that causes her heart to stop, skip, and thunder all at the same time.
There is a moment of silence in which they just stare into each other's eyes, and then a laugh bubbles from his chest, rich and luxurious sounding. Maria finds that she, too, lets out a sound of mirth.
"Wow," he breathes.
"Yeah," she says, her voice throaty, "wow."
And with that, she grasps his face and kisses him again.
End.
