
steve/darcy/bucky, storm
"You're afraid of thunderstorms?" Steve said, half-incredulous, half-comforting.
Darcy jumped as another cloud clap of thunder shook the Tower, and buried her face more completely into Steve's muscular chest. "No," she lied, her words muffled by his skin, "just... don't like thunder."
Bucky laughed softly, and spooned up behind her, fitting his hips snugly against her ass. "Liar," he said, gently mocking.
"'M from Oklahoma, okay?" she said, turning her head around to glare at him. Bucky took the opportunity to kiss her forehead. "Big thunderstorms can turn into tornadoes like that, and tornadoes..." She shuddered and pressed her face back against Steve. "I'm afraid of tornadoes," she admitted.
"Babe," Bucky said, nuzzling his face into her hair, "we won't let anything happen to you. I promise."
"We'll keep you safe," Steve echoed. "Always."