This Is Stella's Reality

August 29, 2015

"Hey, doll, I'm home," Bucky sang as he stepped into the apartment. He set down his tool box and stretched his sore muscles. "The Roche's fence was fucked up, so I fixed it for them, but now I feel fucked up."

I laughed, letting my magic take over the task of filling out wedding invitations. My arms opened for him, immediately regretting letting him hug me as he was covering in sweat and dirt. "Bucky," I whined and winced as he snuggled further in my arms.

"What?" He laughed, "You don't like it when I'm hot and sweaty?"

"Not hot and sweaty and dirty."

He chuckled and pulled away from me. "Well, now it looks like you're dirty too," he teased. "Come shower with me, angel." His hands coaxed me up, pulling me behind him and into the bathroom.

The tiles against my bare feet were warm from the summer air that drifted from open windows. Bucky turned the shower on, and steam drifted past us.

I sighed when his lips fell to mine, salty from sweat and hot with summer's heat. He held my hips against the vanity as his fingers undid the buttons of my pants.

"Goddess," Loki's voice screamed as the front door opened and slammed shut.

Bucky groaned and pulled away from me, peeping his head out the door to glare at the god storming his way towards us.

"Goddess," Loki sneered as he pushed past Bucky. "Your infernal husband is on my last nerve. He has demanded I aid him in this wild goose chase for the last surviving Hydra agents. As if I'm some sort of bloodhound he can call upon to do his work for him!"

I stared at him blankly before suckin my teeth and rolling my eyes. "You barged into my house to complain that you've been asked to do work? Why are you so unable to help him? What does the great Loki have to do instead?"

"Train that insuffering girl."

"Wanda is not insufferable," I retorted.

"If anyone is, it's you, Prancer," Bucky laughed as he knocked Loki's shoulder to the side and rejoined me at the vanity. He wrapped his arms around me again. "Did Steve say where he suspects the last agents to be?"

Loki rolled his eyes. "I'm not a fucking messenger, oaf. If you care to know, ask him yourself. He's your fucking husband." His expression was sharp as a knife.

I laughed at his anger. Typical prince, too proud to do anything meaningful for anyone but himself. "You know, you're incredibly obnoxious. For a crowned prince of Asgard, I would have thought you'd be better behaved.

His eyes flashed with a thousand emotions. "And for a princess, you're quite headstrong and brazen," he mused. "Perhaps that's why you only attract oafish mortal men."

"Oh? Is that why you've told Hermes how fond of me you are? What does that make you then? An oaf?"

Bucky laughed at Loki's shocked expression. He turned his attention back to me and kissed across my jawline. "You can either join us or fuck off," Bucky mumbled against my skin.

My eyes drifted over his shoulder to Loki who was standing dumbfounded in the doorway. I relished in his expression. I had hardly seen him so struck, as if he had just been slapped. My lips curled, "What will it be, oaf?"

He huffed and looked away from me, tempted to turn around and walk out the front door. But his thoughts screamed with intrigue and desire. He did genuinely like me. Adore me as Hermes had put it. I wondered how far I could test him.