That Damn Phone

Marvel you better not fuck this up AGAIN

ah fuck who am I kidding the Russo brothers are in charge they're gonna fuck this up again and i'm gonna be down bad crying at the cinema--

@lokisgoodgirl @lokischambermaid @holdmytesseract @alexakeyloveloki @smolvenger @five-miles-over @ladyofthestayingpower @maple-seed @gigglingtiggerv2 @thedistractedagglomeration @lulubelle814 @joyful-enchantress @give-me-a-moose @loopsisloops @tallseaweed @simplyholl @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 ++

Bot Besties

Fandom: Marvel (Actor AU)

Pairing: Joaquin Torres x F!Reader

Summary: Because he’ll be away for months to shoot a movie, Joaquin gets enabots for you and himself as a way to keep contact with each other through the distance.

A/N: I wanted to write another fic where Joaquin uses the enabot but slightly different lol

Joaquin Torres Masterlist

"I can't believe you!" you exclaim with a cackle as Joaquin reveals two enabots, "I was joking about getting those!"

"Well I wasn't! They're cool and we can use them when I'm away for filming!" He hands you your bot for you to unbox.

Together you both set your respective bots up with the app. The round bots zoom around your shared apartment while you and Joaquin both giggle like kids.

"This is so sick!" He exclaims, looking at his phone to see the view his bot has, "Hm. We need to clean under the couch more." He says spotting the dust and a few loose socks and cat toys.

Speaking of cat, your cat Luna watches from her cat tree. Her curious eyes follow the bots around.

"These are supposed to be used to watch your pets, so not only can I bother you, but also my little Lulu!"

Hearing her nickname, Luna jumps down from her cat tree, approaching Joaquin, however, she jumps when your enabot moves towards her.

"Aaaww Lulu! Did mommy scare you?" Joaquin gets off the couch and scoops the white cat into his arms, "This is why you love me more, huh?" he kisses her head and you roll your eyes.

"Two things: one, I didn't mean to scare her. Two, she's a literal traitor because she's my cat and yet she loves you more!"

"Can't help that we have a special bond, mamas," he kisses Luna's head and she rubs her head against his chin.

You can't be mad though, because you love how cute the two of them are together.

____________________

You're reading a book on the couch in the living room when you hear the sound of wheels against the wooden floors.

"Whatcha readin'?" you hear Joaquin's voice through the enabot.

You place your book on your lap and look down, "Apprentice to the Villain."

You show him the front of the book and he rolls a little closer to get a better look, "Didn't you start the first one like two days ago?"

You nod, "I finished it that same day and then immediately bought this second one."

He whistles, "Damn, babe. You read fast."

You shrug, "When it's something that really piques my interest, then yeah. Anyway, you just finish filming?"

"Yeah. We're on lunch right now, but I'm taking lunch in my trailer."

"What'd catering have today?"

"Taco truck for Taco Tuesday! Fucking delicious, baby. Wish you could try them."

You chuckle, "I'll take your word for it," you kick off the blanket you were snuggled in and begin to walk away.

In his little bot form, Joaquin follows you, "Where ya going?"

"To the bathroom. Don't follow me!"

"Why?!"

"It's weird!"

"No, it's not!"

"Go bother, Luna. I'll be quick!" you shut the door behind you and you hear a faint, "LULU, BABY! WHERE ARE YOOOUUU?!"

__________________________

While away for filming, Joaquin stayed at an AirBnB for the next few months. He also took your enabot with him so you can "keep and eye on him" while he's away.

You don't use yours as much as he does, but you still check in with him via enabot every other week or so.

"Pst, baby. Psssstttt...baby."

Joaquin smiles to himself as he turns around from the desk he's sat at, "Hi, mamas. Need something?"

"I'm boooooored. I finished all my work today, so I wanted to check in." Your little round bot rolls towards him and tilts up, "So whatcha doin'?"

"Just looking over the notes on my script," he lifts up the packet of paper.

"Booooring! Take a break."

He chuckles, "Mamas, I just took a break."

"Okay but you didn't take a break with me!" you roll the bot to his foot. You continuously bumping into his foot, "Take a break. Take a break. Take a breeeaaak!"

He laughs again, "Alright, alright." He stands from his desk and moves to the floor. You roll around him, "Weeeeeeee!!"

"Is this what it feels like when I bother you?"

You stop and move your bot up and down to simulate nodding, "Yes."

"You're so cute, baby," he boops the bot.

"Wait," you roll a little closer, "You cut your hair?!"

Joaquin's eyes widen, "Shit. I forgot to tell you! They wanted to cut my hair a bit for the role." He shakes his head to show its length, "How's it look?"

"Hm...," you roll back to look from a distance and roll closer again, "I mean...regardless, you're hot."

Joaquin throws his head back in laughter, "Thanks, baby. Love the honestly."

"What? Did you want me to say like 'no, I hate it. You look ugly.' Because I would be lying! You look hot no matter what and it's unfair!"

"You're so funny, babe."

You sigh, "Okay. I'll leave you to your work now."

"Alright. I'll call you later. Love you."

"I love you toooooooo!" you elongate the word as you roll back to the dock, leaving Joaquin chuckling as he goes back to work.

Spare Parts

Summary : Your boyfriend gets used to life with one arm.

Pairing : Bucky Barnes x reader (she/her) 

Warnings/tags : Fluff!!!! Sexual references, and implied sex, though no graphic descriptions. Cursing. 

Requested by : @undf-stuff (based on this request)

Word count : 1.7k

Note : I haven't updated my masterlist since last month but I promise you I will soon! Enjoy!

Bucky Barnes, at some point, decided his left arm was optional.

You weren’t exactly sure when it started, but looking back, the signs were there. You should’ve seen it as a steady progression of small moments that culminated into this. 

At first, it was little things— chopping vegetables one-handed like he was starring in a cooking competition. The metal arm would still be on, but he’d keep his vibranium fingers curled into a loose fist like he didn’t quite trust them not to cause trouble.

The moment you really noticed came one evening when he flopped onto the couch beside you, let out a long, dramatic sigh, and—without a single word—just took the arm off and set it on the coffee table like it was a pair of gloves he didn’t feel like wearing.

You blinked and opened your mouth. “Uh…”

Bucky, completely unbothered, stretched out with a pleased hum. “It gets in the way,” he accused, reaching for the TV remote with his right hand. “And, it gets messy.”

Your eyes flickered to the sleek piece of vibranium now lying abandoned on the table, looking vaguely out of place next to the half-empty bowl of caramel popcorn you had made for the evening. 

“Messy?” you echoed.

“Yes. Messy.” He huffed, his eyes dark and brooding like a man who had seen things— horrible, terrible things, and you weren’t even talking about the Hydra stuff. “Do you know how annoying it is to clean blood, dirt, and food out of all those little joints? Last week, I got butter in there. Butter.” He shuddered.

“That was your fault,” You barely suppressed a laugh. “You stole my toast.”

“Doesn’t matter,” he said stubbornly, waving a dismissive hand. Then, with the confidence of a man who had never done anything wrong in his life, he draped his human arm around your shoulders and pulled you closer. “I’ve decided to be right-handed.”

“You are right-handed.”

“Well, now I’m only right-handed.”

You sighed, shaking your head as you settled your head on his shoulders, hopelessly fond. “You’re ridiculous.”

“You keep me around anyway.” he shrugged, pressing a lazy kiss to your hair, 

You huffed. “Against my better judgment.”

Not that you’d ever get rid of him. Bucky Barnes was your weak spot. A six-foot hunk of grumpy, stubborn, adorable beef who could get away with anything if he tried hard enough.

Even the cardinal sin he committed that night, as he put his damn arm in the dishwasher.

Which, by the way, you always scolded him for.

And which, by the way, he always did anyway.

—

After that, the left arm gradually made fewer appearances in day to day life.

Cooking? Off. It’s hard to get oil off the ridges.

Coffee? Off. The grounds get in the plating. 

Fixing little things around the apartment? Definitely off—especially after last time, when he’d gotten a nail stuck between the plates of his vibranium fingers and sulked about it for hours.

At first, it was mildly concerning. “Bucky,” you’d say, watching him knead dough one-handed like some determined pioneer wife who lost her arm to an untreatable infection. “Just put the fucking arm on.”

He’d just shrug. “It’s fine.”

Then, it became routine.

Did a jar need opening? He wouldn’t even attempt it. He’d just hand it to you, expecting you to pop it open like you were his personal Jar Opener. (He stopped doing this himself after he tried wedging a pickle jar between his thighs to twist the lid off— except his ridiculous, super-soldier thighs of steel turned it into a disaster. The glass shattered, pickles and brine went everywhere, and he ended up with a mess of tiny cuts, which healed annoyingly fast).

It should’ve been annoying.

But it wasn’t.

Because every single time, without fail, he’d watch you do it with this cute little smile— like it delighted him, like it thrilled him to see you easily accomplish something that, for once, he couldn’t. (It was adorable, honestly).

—

But the part you loved most were the mornings.

Bucky was an early riser. You were not. And on the days when duty called him out before the sun had even bothered to peek through the curtain, he’d always accidentally disturb your sleep as he got out of bed. 

And he hated that. He hated that you pouted when you realised he had to go. He hated leaving you feeling alone. So one he detached his arm and draped it over your waist as if he was still there.

It worked like a charm. You didn’t even notice he was gone until a couple of hours later. 

The first time it had happened, you’d been so startled when you woke up to a disembodied arm, you threw it across the room and broke a vase.

Now, it was comforting. It became a part of him you could hold onto when he had to leave too early, when the bed was too cold and the world was too quiet. And he knew you loved it.

In those mornings, when you finally trudged into the kitchen—hair a mess, eyes still half-lidded, his metal arm slung over your shoulder like the world’s strangest scarf—he’d take one look at you and smile from ear to ear.

“Morning, doll,” he’d say, clearly just getting back from the gym. “Sleep okay?”

And every time, without fail, you’d yawn, press a drowsy kiss to his jaw and click the arm back into place on his shoulders.

“Yeah,” you’d mumble, leaning in, “Your arm kept me company.”

And every time, without fail, Bucky would readjust it, then wrap both arms around you, tug you in close, and press the softest kiss to your hair.

“Good,” he’d whisper, lips brushing your temple. “That’s why I left it.”

—

There was one time, though, that Bucky misplaced it entirely.

And he only noticed they were gone when he received a concerning message from Rocket Raccoon.

[Off-World Transmission Received: HAHAHAHAHAHAHA GOT YOUR ARM.]

And attached to it, was a picture of his arm in a box, the guardians posing with it (Drax had a middle finger up. You don’t think he knew what it meant).

Bucky stared at the screen. “What.”

Slowly, very slowly, he turned to you. His eyes a mix of horror, confusion, and the kind of sheer disbelief that only came from realising you had lost an entire prosthetic limb.

“Did I—” He swallowed. “Did I have my arm when I went to bed last night?”

You frowned, trying to rewind through last night’s memories, though you failed. “…I think so?”

Spoiler alert: He did not.

He had left it to air dry in the dishwasher.  And as it turned out, at some point between you and Bucky going to bed and the sun rising, Nebula had waltzed in and stole it— all that effort for Rocket’s goddamn Christmas present.

And Bucky, so used to going without it, had somehow managed to not notice for a good twenty-four hours.

You would’ve felt bad for him, except for the part where he spent the next two days pacing around the apartment, grumbling like he had a personal thundercloud over his head while you attempted to hold in your laughter.

In the end, he had to commission a whole new arm from Shuri, who laughed so hard she had to mute herself on the call. Though she did agree to make him an arm that was easier to clean. 

And Rocket was a dead fucking man. Let’s just say your boyfriend was not a man to let things slide.

—

Surprisingly, though, the real revelation came later.

For all his dramatic sighs and grumbles about crumbs in the joints and butter between the ridges on the plating, Bucky still refused to wear the sleeker, less bulky arm Shuri had designed for him to use regularly. As it turned out, there was another reason he was so particular about keeping his arm clean—a reason that, when he finally admitted it, had you staring at him, unsure if you should be aroused and concerned.

Because, apparently, Bucky Barnes was keeping his vibranium arm spotless for you.

For sex.

See the thing is, sex with Bucky was never, ever vanilla.

He liked using that arm. Loved the way you gasped when cold metal traced up the inside of your thighs, how you writhed beneath him when he wrapped it around your throat, how you begged when he pinned you down under its inescapable grips.  

He loved making you tremble. Loved the power his vibranium arm offered—his flesh hand was soothing, his vibranium one unrelenting, precise, wrecking you in ways only he could.

So yeah. He wanted to use the arm for you. 

Until, one night, you told him you wanted to see what it was like without it.

It started gently, with lazy kisses and the drag of lips over skin, the sheer weight of his body pressing you into the mattress.

But then, just when you expected him to shift, to brace himself on that vibranium forearm like always—you remembered  it wasn’t there.

It was across the room, abandoned on the table.

And Bucky was touching you with nothing but himself.

His broad, big human hand—first skimming over your ribs, slipping up your thigh, calloused fingertips brushing all your sensitive spots until you were gasping his name.

His mouth—hot and wet, trailing open-mouthed kisses down your throat, over your collarbone. His voice was gruff as he murmured against your skin, “So beautiful. Gonna take my time with you, sweetheart. “

My god, did he.

See, Bucky Barnes was never vanilla in bed… until today. He was usually all filth, with teasing grins and a fuckin’ take it, baby growled every once in a while. 

Today, he was so vulnerably human, filled with whispered devotion. He was slow and loving. He had your fingers clawing at his back, his name falling from your lips like a prayer. There was something about being just flesh and blood that made him so… sensitive. So gentle.

And fuck, it was good.

So good that afterward, when you were sprawled across his chest, blissed-out, you found yourself telling him, “You don’t always have to put it back on, you know.”

Bucky chuckled, lips brushing your temple. “Yeah?”

You smiled, pressing a kiss to the center of his chest, your fingers threading through his. “Yeah.”

And now that he didn’t need the arm to feel whole, the arm started to stay off a little more often in bed.

-End.

General Bucky taglist:

@hotlinepanda @snflwr-vol6 @ruexj283 @2honeybees @read-just-cant

 @shanksstrawhat @mystictf @globetrotter28 @thebuckybarnesvault@average-vibe

@winchestert101 @mystictf @globetrotter28 @shanksstrawhat @scariusaquarius

@reckless007 @hextech-bros @daydreamgoddess14 @96jnie @pono-pura-vida

@buckyslove1917 @notsostrangerthing @flow33didontsmoke @qvynrand @blackbirdwitch22

@torntaltos @seventeen-x @ren-ni @iilsenewman @slayerofthevampire

@hiphip-horray @jbbucketlist @melotyy @ethereal-witch24 @samfunko

@lilteef @hi172826 @pklol @average-vibe @shanksstrawhat

@shower-me-with-roses @athenabarnes @scarwidow @thriving-n-jiving @dilfsaresohot

@helloxgoodbi @undf-stuff @sapphirebarnes @hzdhrtss @softhornymess

@samfunko @wh1sp @anonymousreader4d7 @mathcat345 @escapefromrealitylol

@imjusthere1161 @sleepysongbirdsings @fuckybarnes @yn-stories-are-my-life

@cjand10

You're So Loved (Happy Birthday, Sweetheart)

Pairing: Doctor!Strange x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: It's Y/n's birthday and Stephen prepares a special dinner

Word Count: 5k

Warnings: None, just fluff.

A/N: I'm so happy for finally being able to post a fic here. It wasn't a piece of cake, since I've been batling writer's block, but I am proud of the result. I Need to be honest and say that this hasn't been proofread, so any typos or grammar mistakes you see just pretend you didn't. Hope you guys enjoy it and have a nice read ;)

You never liked your birthday. For some reason, the date always contributed to intensifying your depressive episodes. For some reason, the beginning of April brought with it an air of melancholy that you attributed solely to the fact that it was the month of your birthday and the reason for this remained unknown. You were not exactly a happy person, but there were so many people in worse situations. Of course, thinking that way did not help.

However, since Stephen had entered your life, you could see a clear improvement in the matter. After you started living with him in the Sanctum, you spent three birthdays with him. The first one was melancholic and you asked him not to give you any presents or celebrations, the second one you had accepted that he would take you out to dinner and in the present year you had not objected at all to the idea of ​​Tony throwing a party at Stark Tower to celebrate your birthday, although as the date approached you wondered if it had been a good idea to give in so much. After all, you knew that things could get a little crazy and grand when you let Tony do whatever he wanted, but at the same time, the fact that he cared about you enough to do that with such affection warmed your heart.

With Stephen, however, you had no idea how you would celebrate or if you would celebrate at all. The big party would be on Saturday night and your actual birthday would be on Tuesday, and Tuesdays were complicated and tiring days at work. Stephen had mentioned dinner, but he had been so busy all week at Kamar Taj that you wondered if he had forgotten, and honestly, you wouldn't blame him if he had. Your birthday was never a topic of conversation between you because that was how you preferred it to be. Deep down, maybe you were afraid that he would question what the matter was, and you wouldn't know how to answer.

Anyway, Monday went by uneventfully and during the night you asked Stephen about his plans for the next day and he replied that he would probably be at Kamar Taj all day sorting out who knows what and you understood that he hadn't really thought of anything different for the occasion. It was better this way, you told yourself. There would be enough celebrating on Saturday. However, you couldn't help but feel a little sad, but in the morning you woke up, took a shower and had your coffee normally and didn't even bother to be disappointed that your boyfriend wasn't home. Stephen always woke up before you and always left the house before you woke up when he had to work. So, you simply grabbed your bag and left for work like any other Tuesday.

...

Stephen was feeling remorseful for not having waited for you to wake up to congratulate you first thing in the morning, but America had convinced him that their plan would be more successful if you thought he had forgotten what day it was. Stephen had a photographic memory, he tried to warn the teenager, he never forgot anything.

"Well, then she'll think you just didn't bother to say happy birthday to her," America had said, rolling her eyes. How that could be a good thing, he couldn't say, but since even Wong had gotten on board with this with unusual enthusiasm, Stephen had agreed to do as America suggested. He woke up in the morning, stroked your hair gently as he watched you sleep soundly for a second, and then left.

Tuesday was boring and tiring at Kamar Taj as usual. He trained the students as he had promised Wong he would, and then devoted himself to preparing for the next mission that he thankfully wouldn't have to participate in. Overall, it was a Tuesday like any other, except that it wasn't. Stephen couldn't stop thinking about you all day. It was like a movie playing in his head, making him remember your moments together.

He remembered perfectly the first kiss, the first time you made love, how you blushed beautifully when he called you sweetheart for the first time and just like that, he knew that would be your pet name. You completely transformed his life and suddenly he stopped being a bitter and resentful man with control issues and became your Stephen, a person he sometimes didn't even recognize, but whom he liked to be much more.

It was safe to say that even his relationship with the Avengers improved after you came into his life. You and Stark were great friends, Stephen had no choice but to live with the billionaire in a more friendly way and that wasn't a bad thing at all. Stephen liked having friends now, he even liked having America as his protégé and all of that was thanks to you. There wasn't much he could say to you that would express how much he loved you, but he tried and would continue to try every day. Especially today.

"Are you ready to go home yet?" America's voice echoed from the distance across the courtyard as he crossed the hall from the library to the dorms while she ran toward him.

He smiled and nodded. "We better go before it gets too late to make dinner." He replied, watching the girl approach. "I don't want her to get home before we've everything sorted out." America nodded.

"There'll be time, relax." And then she slapped her forehead with her hand. "The dress! I completely forgot! I need to go to the store to get it." Stephen shook his head in confusion. "I thought you and Wong had already picked it up yesterday."

She shook her head. "It wasn't her size. The saleswoman had to order it from another store. It arrived this afternoon. We need to go there to get it."

Stephen sighed. "I'll let Wong know we're on our way." When you use portals to get around, everything gets easier. Within 15 minutes, Stephen and America had gone to the store to get your present and were already back home. Without even planning it, they both took a shower and met in the kitchen where Wong was already waiting with all the ingredients already on the balcony.

"What took you so long?" He asked impatiently.

"I hope everything went well at the bakery." Stephen said without bothering to answer and Wong gestured to the refrigerator. When Stephen opened the fridge door, he saw exactly what he expected, a beautiful round cake with white frosting and colorful sprinkles that said "Happy Birthday, sweetheart." He just smiled and closed the door again.

"Did you remember to wrap her present?" Wong asked as if he doubted the answer and Stephen's ability to do it right.

"Yeah. And you? You still haven't told me what you bought for her."

"That's because it's none of your business. You'll see when it's time." He replied. "Now we better start cooking if we want this dinner to be ready on time."

Stephen agreed and simply followed Wong's orders, which were basically washing and chopping ingredients while the Sorcerer Supreme actually cooked. Stephen couldn't argue; he couldn't touch the food if he expected it to be edible.

...

You were starving when you left the office and were caught in a persistent rain. You even thought about stopping by the sandwich bar next door to get some sandwiches to take home, but laziness got the better of you and you ended up giving up. There was always the option of ordering pizza anyway.

It was almost 7pm and if there was any sun it would be setting. The days in April were starting to get longer at this time of the year and some flowers were starting to appear on the trees on Bleecker Street due to the arrival of spring. It was a beautiful time of year indeed and as you walked slowly down the street under your umbrella and saw the Sanctum as a fortress of love and security, you felt happy to be alive and to have that home to return to at the end of each day. When you finally walked through the door that opened by itself as always to let you in, you were greeted by a delicious smell of food that made your stomach growl. It was unusual, really. Unless Wong was home.

"Hi there!" You were welcomed by a baritone voice. "You took your time."

You left the umbrella dripping behind the door and put your bag on the sideboard before getting rid of your coat. "Long and boring day. I thought about buying sandwiches for dinner, but I decided against it." You answered turning to finally look at him and it was then that the feeling of warmth and love intensified even more. He was dressed in dark jeans and a purple shirt, his hair was carefully combed and his goatee perfectly drawn, which indicated that he had taken some time to make it that way.

"You look nice. Any plans for tonight I don't know about?" You asked without trying to be subtle and making him chuckle.

"I always look nice." He answered walking slowly towards you. "And the answer is yes and no, but I'm not going to explain it until you come upstairs with me. Something tells me you need a hot shower."

He finally reached you and touched your face gently before kissing your lips.

"Yes, please." That was all you said on his lips while letting out a little groan. "What a Tuesday!"

He chuckled softly taking your hand in his. "Mine wasn't a piece of cake either, but it's finally over." He nodded leading you upstairs.

After you had showered and spent some time on your post-shower skincare routine, you were ready to get dressed in your most worn and comfortable pajamas, but Stephen just tsked.

"You don't want Wong to see you like this." He warned and you remembered the delicious smell of food you smelled when you got home.

"Did he cook for us?" You asked excited at the idea of ​​eating a proper dinner instead of takeout. Stephen could say whatever he wanted, but you loved Wong's cooking. The Sorcerer Supreme really knew how to cook, in fact he cooked much better than you, but Stephen wasn't ready for that conversation.

Before he could answer, you grabbed a pair of denim shorts and a band t-shirt and got dressed.

"Actually, we cooked for you." Stephen finally confessed with a slight blush on his cheeks. "It all started with America's idea of ​​celebrating your birthday in a low-key way so you wouldn't get mad." He explained. “That was precisely her words”

You smiled from ear to ear. So he hadn't forgotten.

"It was also her idea for me to pretend I forgot it was your birthday today, and she'll probably be mad at me because I should take you downstairs before I tell you, but I couldn't bear to spend another minute of my day without saying it." Then he leaned in close, cupped your face between his shaking hands, and spoke sweetly, "Happy birthday, sweetheart." Before he could say anything else, you had your arms around his neck and pulled him abruptly into a kiss that started out casual and soon became intense and full of saliva and teeth.

"I really thought you forgot!" You confessed, letting out a relieved chuckle. "I don't know what got into me this year, but I spent the whole day thinking it was my birthday and that we should do something about it."

He pinched your cheek teasingly, "I happened to you."

You hummed, "Well, I can't refute that." You responded, pulling him back into your arms. lips in a kiss that lasted until you were interrupted by an incessant knocking on the door.

"Are you guys coming down or what?" America's voice sounded slightly irritated, which made you laugh softly.

"I think you better pretend to be surprised, or she'll kill me." Stephen whispered.

"We're going now." You replied.

When you went down to the dining room - you with the best surprised face you could muster - the table was set beautifully and the candlesticks, never used since you started attending the Sanctum, were lit with candles that seemed to give off a slightly musky scent, but that perfectly matched the delicious smell coming from the kitchen. Wong was finishing the last details and when he saw you, he opened a rare smile.

"Oh my... I can't believe you went to all that trouble!" You exclaimed sincerely.

"You didn't really think we forgot, did you?" He joked, coming towards you and, to your surprise, hugging you. You felt your cheeks turning slightly pink, but you surrendered to the hug, feeling your chest fill with joy and warmth.

"To be honest, I thought everyone had forgotten." You confessed when Wong stepped away and gently pulled out your chair for you to sit down. Stephen smiled ironically, as if he was surprised by his friend's gallantry and maybe even a little jealous, but he said nothing and just pulled out his own chair and sat next to you.

"I think I spent so much time asking people to ignore my birthday that I ended up being afraid that it had actually been ignored this year."

Wong smirked, pointing at all the food placed in front of you. "As you can see, it wasn't. We spent a lot of time thinking about each dish we would make, and we trust that Strange knows what he's talking about because he was the one who chose the menu saying that these are your favorite foods."

You smiled, looking at the food in front of you. Nothing matched, it was just a pile of your favorite foods and somehow you found it much more incredible than if it had been a perfectly prepared menu. There was a basket with fries and some sauces next to it. There was a dish with lasagna Bolognese and another with cannelloni in white sauce. They also roasted what looked like a pork leg and with it there was mashed potatoes, rice, salad and stroganoff. There was definitely enough food to serve about 20 people easily.

"Stephen and I helped Wong prepare everything." America said sitting down and smiling proudly. "Actually I was the one who thought of everything, all the good ideas. Stephen helped, of course. He thinks he knows you so much better than me just because you've known each other longer..."

"Four years longer than you, actually," he teased.

"As I was saying..." She started shooting daggers at him again. "I thought of the best things and even remembered the fries. But overall we didn't do much, Wong got us to do the meson place, the good stuff was on his hands."

"Years and years of practice," Wong said proudly, pulling out his own chair and sitting down as well. "Besides, I needed to make sure you two didn't burn anything."

America rolled her eyes at him and then turned her attention back to you. "Is everything how you like it?"

You smiled. "Of course it is. I just don't know if I'll be able to eat everything you guys prepared."

"Eat whatever you like best," Stephen suggested, taking your plate. "Can I serve you?"

You nodded, noticing that his hands weren't shaking and you knew he was using magic to keep them steady. God forbid he spilled anything that night. Not that you would care, but he would never forgive himself if he did. "What do you want, first?"

You thought for a minute. "I'll start with the fries and the stroganoff. They go together somehow. And to drink... as much as I appreciate the choice of a good wine..."

"She'll have a diet Coke with me." America finished and you winked at her.

Stephen rolled his eyes. "I spent a good fifteen minutes in the wine cellar choosing this wine."

"Well, I'm sure I'll enjoy it properly," Wong said, opening the bottle and pouring himself a full glass of the red wine. He raised the glass to his nose and inhaled deeply before taking a sip. "I really deserve this after the week I've had."

"It's only Tuesday." Stephen said, placing the plate back in front of you. He was clearly going to start serving America, but the teenager was in too much of a hurry to wait and began serving herself, putting a little bit of everything on her plate and carefully assembling a pyramid of food.

"You're going to get a stomachache." Stephen warned as he began to serve himself, but America just shrugged.

Wong helped himself too and soon you guys engaged in a heated conversation about which dish was the best and in the midst of all the silly talk, while eating and laughing like a family, you found yourself thinking that what made you want to celebrate your birthday was that you felt like you belonged to a real family now. Stephen, Wong and America were your family and there was nothing more incredible than spending time with them.

"Just a little bit" Stephen insisted, indicating that you try the roast pork, but you grimaced and refused.

"I feel like I'm going to explode if I eat any more." You confessed "I'm sure it will be good for dinner tomorrow. In fact, I thought we could save some for tomorrow's dinner and make some lunch boxes with the rest to send to the compound. What do you guys think?"

Wong nodded, wiping his lips and finishing what must have been his fourth or fifth glass of wine. "That's a great idea. The food is good, I'd hate for anything to go to waste."

"The lasagna will stay." Stephen demanded as he poured himself another piece of it. "This is extremely delicious."

You couldn't help but smile as you watched him eat. There must have been something about watching your man eat because you found it extremely cute and sexy.

"Okay, the lasagna will stay." You said, bringing your napkin up to his chin to wipe a drop of sauce off his goatee, which made him blush slightly.

...

Stephen smiled broadly as you listened to America explaining the feeling of entering the mirror dimension for the first time and you knew that he saw himself in each new discovery of hers, that as Wong had pointed out several times, he saw himself in America and he liked that. Stephen always told you that you had made him a better man, but you couldn't take all the credit for his growth as a person, America had a big part in that. It was after she arrived that he finally lost his fear of being loved and even though he didn't talk about it, you knew that America was a kind of replacement for the little sister he lost.

"Well, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to clear the table." Wong announced with a pompous gesture with his fingers and everything simply disappeared. You didn't even question the physics of it anymore, you were just grateful that their magic saved you from having to wash so many dishes.

"Is it time yet?" America asked impatiently and Stephen shook his head.

"What are you two up to?" You asked curiously and Stephen just laughed softly, standing up.

"Trust me, you'll like it. But first, I hope you have saved some place for the dessert." He said, making his own pompous gesture with his fingers and a beautiful cake materialized in front of you. It was round, full of colorful sprinkles and on it was the words "Happy birthday, sweetheart" with a single lit candle.

Before you could process the fact that this was the first birthday cake you had since you became an adult, Stephen, America and Wong started singing 'happy birthday to you' as out of tune as possible and before you knew it, you were crying, but you were also laughing and smiling, and it was undeniable that you were happy.

"Make a wish" America asked before you blew out the candle. "I wish..." You began, but were interrupted by Stephen.

"It needs to be a secret or it won't come true."

You nodded, closing your eyes and thinking about your wish with all your might, and then you blew out the candle.

You definitely shouldn't have eaten the second piece of cake, but it was so good that it was impossible to deny it, and besides, there would always be the next day to make up for the excess calories, right? America, on the other hand, didn't seem worried about the calories she had consumed, but thinking about the amount of strength training that Stephen and Wong were subjecting her to, added to the fact that she was a teenager in full physical development, you knew there was no real reason for her to worry about it, and so she devoured the fourth slice quickly before looking at Stephen with her pleading eyes.

"Come on, it's time." She almost begged impatiently. Wong smirked, finishing his own slice of cake.

"Well, I guess it really is time. We have to go back to Kamar Taj after all."

You had moved your chair away from the table enough so that you could sit sideways in it and rest your back against Stephen's chest who was sitting right behind you. The excess sugar and carbohydrates were starting to kick in and you felt slightly sleepy.

"What exactly are you guys up to?" You asked interestedly. Somehow you knew that whatever it was had to do with you. America smiled broadly at Stephen, but it was Wong who answered and with a simple gesture of his fingers, a large, old and heavy book appeared in the air and fell into your lap.

"Oh my god, what is this?" You asked sitting up straight and picking up the book and placing it on the table to look at it. It had a reddish leather cover and gold lettering that read "The magic and mystery of the New York Sanctum."

"It tells the story of the Sanctum, its mysteries, peculiarities, rooms and secret passages, as well as the great events that happened here." Wong said proudly. "Theoretically it should belong to the master of the Sanctum, but since we agreed that the one who really runs the house is you, I decided that you should keep it. It is a humble gift, but of extreme value and it is also a way of saying that you are part of our world."

You couldn't help but feel emotional with those words. Since the beginning, you always wanted to be accepted and welcomed by Wong and you indeed got what you wanted and much more. You had his friendship. "This is... I don't even know what this is..." You found yourself whispering as your fingers caressed the cover of the book because your voice refused to come out.

"A small demonstration of my affection for you, Y/n. Happy birthday and thanks for making Strange a lot less unpleasant." Wong said with a smile at you that turned into a teasing smirk.

"You can compliment her without offending me, you know?" Stephen complained to which Wong shrugged.

"Sure, but it wouldn't be the same."

"Okay, now it's my turn!" America said, butting in. "Remember when we went to the mall and you were eyeing that dress?"

You put your hand over your mouth in disbelief when America made a white box materialize in front of you on the table. "No!"

"Yes!" She answered so excitedly that it seemed like the gift was for her. "I didn't understand why you didn't buy it, but after Stephen told me that Tony was having a party to celebrate your birthday, I knew you had to go dressed in it."

"But it was too expensive! That's why I didn't buy it."

"Well, I had some savings saved up and know that neither Stephen nor Wong had to give a dime to it. It's all me." She said proudly.

You opened the box, removing the silk and finally looking at the beautiful pink dress inside. "Argh, I hate you, kid! Come here, give me a hug."

America's smile widened as she walked around the table and ran to hug you.

"You're my best friend, Y/n."

"Oh, and you're mine."

The two of you were interrupted by Stephen clearing his throat exaggeratedly. "I think it's my turn now."

America stuck her tongue out at him and returned to her seat.

"Well, what could it be?" You teased and he smirked. "I heard you like this particular band, so I thought you might like this..." He moved his fingers and a beautiful vinyl of the album X by Cigarettes After Sex appeared in his hand. He didn't bother to wrap it, but there was a small red bow around the object.

You took the vinyl from his hands in a not-so-delicate way and a soft squeal escaped your lips, such was your ecstasy. "Oh my... there were only 500 copies, how did you..."

"Turn it over to see the back." He instructed proudly and when you did so you almost fell out of your chair. In beautiful script written in silver permanent marker it said "To you, Y/n, with all my love, Greg."

Your jaw dropped and you stared at Stephen and then at the vinyl and then at Stephen again and then at the vinyl trying to believe that this was real. "How..."

"Too much coercion and threats." America said teasingly and Stephen glared at her.

"He likes the Avengers. I promised I'd get him an autograph from Captain America."

You couldn't help but laugh "You're kidding."

He shook his head "I swear. But tell me, did you like it?"

You wrapped the vinyl in an awkward tight hug "What do you think?"

Stephen smirked "I think I deserve a kiss." He said holding your face in his hands and pulling you to his lips.

"Ew." You heard America complain, but at that moment, you didn't care.

"I think that's our cue. Shall we go?!" You heard Wong say as they stood up.

...

"I still can't believe everything they did for me tonight." You said still amazed by the incredible night they had given you.

You and Stephen were lying on the couch in the living room and Wong and America had just left back to Kamar Taj. The TV was on, and you had put on a random horror movie to play, but it was safe to say that neither you nor Stephen were giving a damn about the seemingly bizarre scenes on the screen.

Your bodies were so close that you could feel the heat emanating through Stephen's comfortable clothes, your legs were comfortably intertwined, and your ear was glued to his chest so you could hear the soft beating of his heart and that was the most beautiful sound in the world to you.

"You deserve everything we did and even more." Stephen answered after a minute of silence. His arms were tightly around your body, and he caressed your arms absentmindedly. "You are so loved, Y/n. Not only by me, but by everyone around you. There is something about you that is impossible not to like."

You smiled to yourself hearing those words. They seemed so foreign to you. As someone who grew up with the feeling of rejection rooted within you, it was difficult to receive love or simply understand it as something positive. For a long time you were afraid to love or be loved for fear of losing it.

"Thank you for loving me." You said simply and Stephen kissed your forehead affectionately.

"It's not like it's something hard to do." He joked.

"I spent my whole life thinking the opposite. I always saw myself as someone unlovable. You, Wong, America, Tony and all my Avengers friends showed me that wasn't true and I'm very grateful for that." You confessed, raising your head to look at him.

Stephen was so beautiful. You would never get used to the beauty of those cheekbones and that jaw, much less the color of his eyes and that goatee. The combination of all the details took your breath away every time you looked at him the way you were looking at him now.

"I love it when you look at me like that." He said smirking as if he could read your mind.

"Like what?"

"Like I'm the most important person in your life."

You smile, resting your chin on his chest. "But you are. I love you, Doctor Stephen Strange."

He smiled broadly, cupping your cheek. "And I you." He paused to think for a moment and then asked, "Can I ask what your wish was?"

You had to force your mind out of the trance his gaze had put you in and only then did you realize what he was talking about. "I thought it had to be a secret."

"I won't tell anyone." He said, smirking and making your heart flutter.

"I wished that you would stay in my life forever. That nothing would ever take the three of you away from me." You finally confessed and his smirk gave way to a sweet, open smile.

"You are so loved, sweetheart. I'm sorry the world made you think otherwise, but we are here every day to change that, to make this stubborn, anxious little head of yours understand that you are special.”

"I always feel special when I'm with you."

"Thank goodness because you are. I love you and again, Happy birthday." He said pulling you to his lips and just like that all your doubts, anxiety and tiredness of the day disappeared.

Reblog please! Leave a comment if you liked it. Interact! I will love to read all of your comments and opinions. It inspires me to keep writing!

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5 Times You Are Not Dating Bucky Barnes (and the one time you are) | Bucky Barnes x Reader | One shot - 2.6k words |

You're sick of saying it, Bucky is not your boyfriend, you are not dating you're just friends. Until...

Warnings: 18+ for some canon typical violence and for Sam and Joaquin being pains in the arse (affectionate). Friends to lovers vibes, idiots in love, dating but not dating.

Dividers by @firefly-graphics & @saradika-graphics

Masterlist | Bucky Barnes

1

Bucky Barnes is not your boyfriend.

At least once a day these words come out of your mouth in some form and it's becoming so frequent now that you're considering just recording yourself and playing it back on your phone.

Colleagues, partners in the field, friends.

Not a couple.

Not dating.

"Did you hear that, Wilson? She said —"

"Yeah, yeah, sure."

Sam rolled his eyes at Bucky, sighing dramatically in a way that only Sam is really allowed to get away with. Bucky hadn't taken his eyes from your laptop screen or the secure file you were scrolling through.

"Look awful close though."

You looked up this time, the top of your head brushing Bucky's cheek, his breath was warm against your own and the contrast between his exhale and the cold glass of the table gave you goosebumps.

"We're reviewing the data Joaquin sent us, what do you want us to do?" You snapped, scrolling to the next page of mind numbingly boring KPIs and MIs. Just your luck to get the management files and nothing juicy.

"Perhaps you could use the projector?" Sam clicked a button on the table and the details on your screen lit up the plain, white wall of the conference room.

Embarrassed heat flared up your spine and you shivered.

"Not very secure though, is it, Captain?" Bucky picked up the remote and switched the projector off, his eyes on the laptop screen.

The plastic of your chair squeaked as he tightened his hold on it, and the door slammed shut behind Sam.

2

You followed your nose from the cool darkness of the operations room to the open living area. Tedious as it was to be stationed in the middle of nowhere for recon, you couldn't fault the accommodation, it was almost like being on holiday, apart from the gruelling shifts staring at monitors every day.

Somewhere further along the corridor the sound of good-natured arguing grew louder, Bucky's voice rising above the others and warning them not to disturb you. There was a brief pause before you heard Sam and Joaquin start laughing and Bucky's heavy sigh.

"Morning," you gave a small sleepy smile to the assembled team. Joaquin smiled back, raising his coffee cup in greeting. Sam grinned and you knew instantly that there was something going on. "What now?" You sighed, sending both men in to fits of laughter.

Bucky handed you a cup of tea and bowl of yogurt and granola, a handful of blueberries and raspberries on top.

"Thanks, I'm starving." You bumped his hip as you wandered past to join your teammates at the kitchen island and earned yourself a rare smile.

"What've you got there?" Sam asked, peering into your bowl.

"Usual," you mumbled, sipping your tea. Perfect.

"Uh huh, the usual." He looked up at Bucky, whose face was slowly turning the same colour as the raspberries.

"Can I have some yoghurt, Bucky?" Joaquin asked, innocently.

"Nope." Bucky said, watching you take the first bite and allowing the corner of his mouth to turn up in a smile when yours did.

"Oh, did we run out?"

"Nope."

Bucky put the almost full pot back into the fridge, fixed his coffee and sat down too, shuffling his stool a little closer to you. His hair was still a little damp and you could smell the familiar scent of his shampoo, his bare arm bumping against yours as he took a sip of coffee.

Sam and Joaquin emptied out the last of their coffees into the sink and slunk away, whispering and laughing conspiratorially about "special treatment for girlfriends."

Bucky was, as usual, ignoring them and flipping through a week old newspaper and sipping his coffee. He caught you watching and gave you a mock glare, nothing like the hard stare he'd given Sam and Joaquín earlier.

Then he turned the pages slightly so you could see and you let your head rest on his shoulder, still sipping your tea.

3

"I'm sorry, okay, please stop giving me the cold shoulder." Sam followed after you as you picked your way back to the jet, trying to catch up so you could walk together.

"Absolutely not, I want to be angry for at least two more hours." You grouched, squeezing water from your tactical gear.

"C'mon, it's a little funny," Joaquin laughed, taking up space on your other side.

"Fuck off, Torres, if you had fish swimming in your tac suit you'd be mad too. "

Bucky met you at the cargo door, towel in hand and glaring at your team mates.

"Hell happened to you lot? And why are there fish in your suit?" He scanned you all quickly for serious damage, but it was just your ego that was bruised really.

"Someone, told me it was totally safe to cross this rickety fucking bridge back there," you scowled again.

It really wasn't Sam's fault, it looked perfectly safe or you wouldn't have started to cross, but it was clearly rigged to fall and that's exactly what you'd done, straight into the stagnant water below.

In their gear Sam and Joaquin had been fine. You, on the other hand, had been soaked from head to toe.

"Let's get you in something clean and dry," Bucky gently ushered you into the cool darkness of the jet, soothing your embarrassment with his own stories and wiping mud from the back of your neck as if it was an everyday occurrence.

"I don't think there's anything left in my locker after we got caught in that storm a few weeks back." Embarrassment made your skin itchy and your blood cold. You had spare underwear, maybe, at best.

"Don't worry," Bucky put his back to the door of the small bathroom while you stripped off your dirty clothes inside, "I've got something."

When you reappeared fifteen minutes later, cleaner, dryer, it was in a pair of Bucky's spare sweat pants and the black t-shirt he'd been wearing.

Joaquin raised his eyes but made the decision not to comment and incur your wrath any further.

Sam, on the other hand, chose to tease Bucky instead, their arguing bouncing around the jet while you tried to get comfy on the thin flight seats.

"Got your territory all marked then, Barnes?" He laughed, eyes darting between the two of you.

"Don't know what you're on about, Wilson." Bucky snapped back.

"She's in your clothes, couldn't find any spares? Nothing of mine of Joaquin's back there? You're getting more possessive." Sam shot you a look, "you need to tell him to fuck off."

"I'm good, Sam, thanks for your concern."

"Ahh so you are —"

"We're not dating!" You shouted in unison.

Which only made Sam and Joaquín laugh harder.

It was okay though, you were safe again now and, snuggling deeper into the body warmth of Bucky's t-shirt and definitely a lot less angry than you had been, you really felt safe too. How could you feel any other kind of way, when you could smell his body wash, when he had dried your face so carefully and helped you into your clean clothes.

He looked over at you, eyes still checking for injuries.

"You okay over there? Warm enough?" You nodded and he nodded back, smiling.

4

Joaquin woke with a jolt when the plane hit turbulence, there was a crick in his neck and a sore muscle in his back screaming for a soft bed and his favourite pillow. But no such luck, just an army evac in the dead of night.

Beside him Sam had spread out a blanket and his jacket on the floor, using his rucksack as a pillow and snoring soundly. He could always sleep anywhere, you all could, especially after the day you'd had.

Bucky had taken up a spot sat on the floor like Sam, but with his back to the thin benches, his pack holding up his head. In the gloom he could see Bucky's left arm rigidly holding his body up, elbow locked, because on the right you were leaning into him. His arm was around your shoulders and you'd curled your body into his, pressing into his side, face tucked into his neck and hand under his shirt.

The plane rattled again and Bucky blinked one eye open, his body still as he scanned around quickly before locking eyes with Joaquin.

"You two comfy?" Joaquin whispered and Bucky scowled back. He'd expected Bucky to push you away, but instead he tugged you closer.

Joaquin made a tiny heart shape with his fingers and then mimed kissing.

Bucky flicked up his middle finger and then closed his eyes.

5

"So, Playboy, got any plans tonight," Sam asked, scuffing Joaquin on the back of the head while you pulled your bag out of the gym lockers.

It'd been a long day and you couldn't wait to order a ridiculous amount of food, put your pyjamas on and forget the world existed.

"You know me, Sam. Keepin' my options open." The younger man grinned back.

"Lotta fingers in a lotta pies, have you Torres?" You snickered.

Bucky shut his locker with a slam. "Don't be crude," he grouched, but you saw the way he smiled when he rolled his eyes.

"Something like that," Joaquin shrugged.

"What about you man, hot date?" Joaquin asked,

"Nah," Sam turned away and Joaquin finished towelling his wet hair and started digging his clothes from his bag before wandering off for some privacy.

You slid your trainers back on, tucking your boots in your locker and wondering why they were both suddenly so interested in each other's dating life.

"Not even Leila," you needled, breaking the silence and poking him in the side.

"What's it got to do with you anyway? You seeing anyone tonight?"

"Nope, just me and some Chinese takeout tonight, maybe a little flirt with Netflix," Sam gave you a slightly sad look, but what did you care, it wasn't the only Friday night that would ever happen and you were exhausted.

"I was going to get noodles, do you want to come back to mine, we can split an order?" Bucky asked, fishing his keys from his gym bag and nodding his head towards the door.

"Ohh yes as long as we can get dumplings."

"Obviously we're getting dumplings."

"And maybe fried rice?"

"Rice and noodles?"

"You get one, I'll get the other, we'll split it."

"Fine."

"Shall I follow you —"

"Leave your car by the hanger, I'll drive you back in tomorrow."

"Perfect, let's grab a bottle of wine from the store on the way back."

Bucky groaned, holding the door open for you, "how many times have I said, the only acceptable drink with Chinese takeout is Tsingtao."

The door shut as Joaquin rounded the lockers again, a confused look on his face."Do they know it's Valentines Day?"

Sam laughed, "I don't think so but I can't wait to see their faces tomorrow when they figure it out."

+1

"I've got him, Bucky, you watch the trucks?" You put your sight back to your eye, shuffling your shoulders, settling lower into the ground, you breathed deeply as you prepared to take the shot.

"You'll give away your position, you're too close, fall back." Bucky's voice was surprisingly frantic in your ear.

"Quiet, please. I can do this."

"Leave her, Buck, she's got this."

"Cap's right, gotta have a little faith."

"It's too risky —"

You turned your comm off. You'd been watching this gang for weeks hoping to catch them in the act and you had the perfect chance.

Sam and Joaquin had been leading your infiltration of their den and everything had been going swimmingly — until their leader had walked out and thrown everything into chaos.

You caught the kickback from your rifle with practised ease, your aim perfect, the apparent leader of the group crumpled to the ground, bleeding from his now shattered kneecap. Nothing fatal, you wanted to see him on the stand as did the rest of the team.

You touched your ear piece again ready to gloat about your excellent hit but Bucky's panicked voice found you instead.

"Run, I'm coming but you've gotta run, go —go! Why aren't you going!"

You turned, surrounded by three armed guards, and did the only thing you could do. Fight back.

This wasn't the best time for close quarters combat, but you needed time to reach your handgun or your dagger or something.

Dodging around you gained enough time to slip a knife from your thigh holster.

"I've got it, Buck. Go to Sam."

"No you fucking haven't."

Your arm moved, swiping at your first assailant and leaving a splatter of blood behind. Still low you lurched for the second man's legs, jabbing upwards as he bent down to you. The blade pierced the top of his thigh and blood gushed out as you twisted your wrist and tugged.

"Don't kill anyone." Sam admonished.

But you were too focused to care. The third guard was huge, broad and carrying a knife to match. But it was the gun pointed at your temple that had your heart pounding.

"Put the gun down little lady, we don't want any more messes for you to clean up." The man leered forward, pressing the hot muzzle of the gun into your skin.

"Fuck off." You spat back.

He bent closer, sliding his dagger back into its holster, giving him a free hand to pinch your cheeks. "Such a dirty mouth, what will I do with you."

"She said, fuck off."

The man looked blank, turning his head to find Bucky towering over him gun pressed to his back.

"You okay?" He asked, glancing at you quickly.

"Fine."

"You're a lucky bastard today." Bucky pulled the trigger and you closed your eyes against the spray.

The man shouted, clutching at his shoulder where blood was pouring between his fingers, the wound wider at the front.

"How's that lucky, Bucky?" You chastised, brushing leaves and dirt from your tactical suit and grabbing your rifle.

"If you were hurt, I'd have shot him in the head." He answered, simply, and you felt yourself go hot all over at the thought of what he'd do for you.

Sam and Joaquin landed behind you and rushed forwards.

"We heard more shots, is everyone okay? — What the hell guys I said minimal damage." Sam groaned.

"Would've been easier if someone—" Bucky looked at you, "had left their comms on and run when I'd said."

You rolled your eyes, "I was fine, look." All three patrol guards lay bleeding on the ground.

"That guy had a gun to your head, you were not fine."

"I had him on the ropes." You smiled, but it wavered, you had been scared and your heart had been racing seeing Bucky sneak up on him. "Plus, I've got my knight in shining armour to shoot people for me." You grinned up at Bucky, blood painted on your uniforms and across your cheeks.

"Good thing too." Bucky threaded his fingers through your chest holster and tugged you forwards, pressing a deep kiss to your lips. You hummed happily and leant into him before he set you back down

"If you're done, Sam, can we go back to the jet? I've got bad guy blood all over me, yuck." You made a face and wiped your cheek with the back of your hand before strolling off with Bucky, rifles over your shoulders.

"Did they just—" Joaquin looked over at Sam.

"Yeah —"

"How long?"

"No idea."

As you rounded the corner Bucky took your hand again, tugging you closer and pressing a kiss to your head where the imprint of the gun still lingered.

"Does this finally mean I'm your boyfriend?"

"Because you shot someone for me?"

"Yeah."

"Yeah, sure." You smiled, resting your cheek on his shoulder.

Mission shenanigans 2

The aftermath of cuddling with Loki.

Wordcount: 2044

Pairing: Loki x f!reader

Warnings: reader is kind of in denial, Bucky "back in my days" Barnes, Sam and Bucky meddling, big brother Thor teasing, miscommunication

A/N: Oops my fingers slipped now there's drama?? All this from some cuddling? Sheeshhhh guess we're not done yet. See you in part 3? | divider credit: anitalenia

Mission shenanigans part 1

Your mind feels like it’s going a thousand miles per hour after sleeping cuddled up with Loki and getting caught by Bucky and Sam. It almost makes it seem like you should’ve opted to stay in your own damn bunk but it’s too late for regret now. 

It was a one time thing. It doesn’t matter. You and Loki have a complicated dynamic and you’re sure he’s not reading into things like you are right now – running through each and every past interaction with him, trying to piece together how this even happened and still coming up empty handed.

No. This is just some kind of mind game. He has some kind of motive. You bet he’ll throw this back in your face when he needs something. This is leverage. It has to be.

“You good?” Nat tilts her head at you from her seat as you’re grabbing a granola bar from the refresher/snack counter in the main area of the jet.

Bucky and Sam are at a table in the other corner with Bruce and Thor. They’re going over the new information that has come up about the mission during the night, but you don’t have to worry about that right this second. Since you’re paired up with the two of them, they’ll just fill you in later. Possibly before or after bringing up this morning's incident.

From what you’ve heard there’s gonna be a bunch of walking involved to even get to the bad guys’ hideout. Plenty of time to get caught up and for them to be their usual annoying selves.

“I’m fine,” You smile at Nat, trying to mask your overthinking. It always shows on your face all too well. The downside of wearing your heart on your sleeve – there will be questions.

“Morning!” Loki walks into the main area of the jet wearing a huge grin. If you didn’t know better you’d assume he got laid last night. But no. The two of you cuddled and now he looks like… that. Oh. Oh.

“Actually I have to pee!” You announce quickly, a little too loud, dropping the granola bar back onto the counter. Nat raises her eyebrow at you as you slip out of the room in a haste, unwilling to stick around to find out if you drew attention to yourself or to see Loki’s reaction to your outburst.

Yeah. Great way to play it cool. Way to go. And now you're out of a granola bar. You think as you groan to yourself, hiding in the hallway, leaning against the wall. 

And then Loki's there too. 

“You forgot your beloved oats,” He holds out the granola bar and the slight smirk on his face tells you, he definitely knows you left the main area because of him.

You snatch the bar from his hand. “I actually did have to pee,” You insist. Like hell you're admitting the truth to him. You're not even going to admit it to yourself.

“Oh, I'm sorry, were you planning to do that here? In the hallway?” 

You glare at him and walk to the bathroom. It's hard to believe you were cuddled up in bed with him a few minutes ago.

You shut yourself in the toilet and munch on your granola bar. As far as pathetic goes, this has to be it and this mission isn’t even close to over. How the hell are you going to deal with Loki for the remainder of it? 

–

Of course, the day only seems to get worse when you land and Sam announces he’s gonna hike with Loki and Thor, doing a piss poor job of keeping his plotting smile at bay. He was supposed to be with you and Bucky. 

You give him a glare but say nothing, however you will remember this. Nobody else seems to pick up on the strangeness of Sam switching groups at the last possible minute or if they do, they don't comment on it. The team then splits into three groups. Nat and Bruce head one way, the three amigos the other, while you’re now hiking through the overgrown forest with just Bucky as your companion. 

You swat at the mosquitos, making your way between the branches of trees and then finally find some semblance of a path where you don’t have to duck every two seconds. 

Bad guys sure do love to pick the worst hideouts. Why is it never something nice? Like a hot island where you could go for a dip.

“So… you and Loki…” Bucky breaks the silence, after you’ve been walking for a few minutes.

And there it is. You hope the ground will swallow you whole. “Bucky.” You warn. You don’t want this conversation to happen. At all.

“No, no, it’s just I thought you didn’t like him,” He raises his hands in defense, smiling. “Then again back in my day, they used to say those who fight, love each other. There’s a fine line between love and hate.”

“Oh my god,” You grumble and kick a rock as you walk, sending it tumbling in front of you.

“I mean what else am I supposed to think from the sight I witnessed this morning?”

“You better keep your mouth shut about it, Barnes. Did you already blab about it to the rest of the team? Oh god, I bet Sam did. Tell me he didn’t–” Bucky laughs at you as you freak out. “Stop it Buck! Tell me he didn’t!” You whine, looking at him pleadingly.

“Not while I was there,” Bucky reassures you. “But you know how he just loves to talk,” He teases.

“I hope I die on this mission,” You mutter, sulking.

“Dramatic much?” You can’t stand the amusement on his face. “Look it’s fine if you like him, I mean sure there was that whole New York business but–”

“Will you stop it?! I don’t like him like that! He offered to help me sleep!”

A snort half escapes Bucky. “Oh, is that what you kids call it these days?” He nudges you playfully.

“Just shut up and fill me in on the new info,” You roll your eyes. “And make sure we're heading in the right direction.”

“Yes, Captain,” He salutes you, grinning and you have to resist the urge to smack him.

– 

What you don’t know is that Loki is going through something similar as he, Thor and Sam move towards the location of the hideout.

“So you have the hots for little miss Captain,” Sam announces, grinning at Loki, who gives him a side glance.

“As far as I’m aware she does not like to be called that,” Loki replies evenly, he’s doing his best to mask his feelings. Involving other people would only complicate your already fragile dynamic.

“Nah, but Bucky agrees something about her just screams Steve, it's her facial expressions, man, you gotta watch out for that shit,” Sam muses. 

Loki scrunches his face from the comparison to Rogers. He does not have ‘the hots’ for a female version of Rogers, that would be absurd. No, you’re… you’re you. Painfully stubborn and you get impossibly mad when he teases you. And his attempts to get close to you have all failed, with the exception of last night. 

Sam throws his head back laughing “Oh, you’re down bad! You're thinking about her now!” and Loki is forced back into the present moment.

Thor looks to them in interest. “What is ‘down bad’?” He makes a show of doing air quotes as he narrowly avoids a branch hitting him in the face.

“It means your little brother here is in love with her,” Sam explains as he walks between them and clasps Thor’s shoulder. 

Thor contemplates for a moment. “He does act very odd around the little mortal,” He nods.

“That’s what I’m saying!” Sam exclaims, glad that Thor gets it. “And you know what else? Me and Bucky found them cuddled up in bed this morning!”

Thor looks at Loki, grinning. “Is that true, brother? Is the little mortal your lady now? Shall I notify mother?”

“It’s hardly any of your concern!” Loki snips, focusing on the path ahead. His skin is starting to crawl and he stretches his fingers, trying to keep his cool, but really all he wants to do is place a silencing enchantment on Sam. Thor too.

He retreats back into his mind once they start discussing something else and the teasing finally subsides.

–

Surprisingly, the mission goes smoothly. You capture the bad guys that haven’t left the hideout yet and make sure the place is completely clear. You already knew this wasn’t their main base anymore but there’s still data left around that you gather for evidence and intel on their other locations.

“Keep moving,” Smart Hulk grumbles as he leads the few guys in handcuffs out with Nat and Thor. You walk the other way. You’re doing one more building check with Bucky. It doesn’t seem like you missed anyone or anything. Then you run into Sam.

“Oh hey, hey! Check out this room,” He motions to an open door. 

Bucky shrugs when you look at him, seemingly just as confused as you are, so you walk into the room, expecting them to follow. You look around, there’s nothing out of the ordinary here. Just a bunch of tech stuff, computers on desks.

“Sam, I don’t get it,” And then the door slams shut. You spin around, now even more confused. “Guys?”

“What’s happening?” Loki asks from behind you and you jump. You turn and see him straightening behind one of the desks. He must’ve been crouched down before because you definitely didn’t notice him earlier.

It makes a lot more sense now why Sam fooled you into going into this room. It's because of Loki.

“Sam thinks he's funny,” You grit as you push on the door handle, when that doesn’t work you pound on the door. “Open it, Sam!” 

Nothing.

“Bucky, can you open the door?” You try, counting on him to give in quicker. You hear both of them laughing on the other side. “Seriously guys, this is childish!” 

“No, no, you two need to talk about your cuddling! If that’s even what happened!” Sam chimes from the other side.

Your face heats up. As soon as they open the door you’re gonna strangle them both. This is a nightmare. Loki clears his throat, drawing your attention to him. “You know, as much as it pains me to say it, he might be right…”

You shake your head at him, your eyes silently pleading him not to continue. His eyebrows pull together and something about this moment feels especially vulnerable. It’s in his expression and the way you feel like your heart is going to leap out of your chest. But you can’t possibly talk about this here, now, in the middle of a mission. You haven’t had enough time to think and you’re just not ready for this. 

His mouth opens and closes and then his expression hardens. Previous vulnerability gone, like it was never even there. “I understand,” He says, low. And you immediately feel regret. 

He walks to the door. “Gentlemen, you do still remember I possess magic, yes? And you remember the people that have crossed me, how they ended up?” He threatens, loud enough for them to hear and in no time the door opens. Loki slips out past them. 

“Loki–” You call after him but he doesn’t turn around, he’s set on getting away with quick strides. You glare at Sam and Bucky who are grimacing. “You just had to meddle!”

“It was his idea.” Bucky points at Sam.

“Was not!” Sam argues.

“Oh yeah? It was you who brought it up at the table this morning!” 

“Enough!” You yell, you’ve had it with them trying to push the blame when they share it. “You’ve just complicated things further! Stay out of my business!” You look between them as your blood boils. 

Regret and guilt seep into their features and they now look like children who’ve been scolded. Good. Maybe that’ll teach them a lesson about meddling in other people's affairs.

“We should- uh- we should get back,” Sam says awkwardly. 

“Let’s go,” You mutter.

more of my works

Mine

Prompt idea by: @fightclubendingscene

Tag: @superwholockbooknerd526

Thanking for @fightclubendingscene inspired me to write this as my first BBC sherlock x reader ^^

Tag: Jealous Sherlock, feelings, female reader

-------------

The first time you worked with Sherlock at 221B Baker Street, you fell for him at first sight. His intelligence was captivating, his mind a fascinating labyrinth of insights and analyses that seemed almost otherworldly. You were struck by how quickly he could piece together clues, revealing connections that others would overlook. There was a stoicism about him, a cool detachment that often made you wonder if he was, in some ways, more machine than man.

Yet, deep down, you sensed there was more to him—a complexity of emotions that he kept hidden beneath his sharp exterior. The way he approached each case was both brilliant and bewildering, making it hard to reconcile the thought that he might lack feelings altogether. You knew he was no machine; there was something profoundly human beneath his enigmatic façade that drew you in and made your feelings race each time you witnessed his brilliance in action.

As time passes, your feelings for him deepen, evolving into something more profound and complex. You find yourself constantly grappling with the notion that Sherlock Holmes, famously devoted to his work and often emotionally detached from others, might not reciprocate those feelings.

However, some moments ignite hope within you. In those fleeting seconds when your eyes meet, an unspoken connection lingers in the air before you both inevitably look away, your cheeks flushing with a mix of confusion and longing.

Then there are the rare instances when Sherlock expresses his sentiments through actions rather than words—small gestures that, at first, seemed insignificant but now stand out in sharp relief. The way he remembers your favorite coffee or the specific foods you love speaks volumes about his attention to you. These thoughtful details, once overlooked, now fill you with a sense of warmth and possibility, suggesting that beneath his stoic exterior, there may indeed be more to him than meets the eye.

John mentioned that he had never seen Sherlock behave in such a way before. It’s interesting to note that he has known the detective far longer than you have, which makes his insight all the more significant. Encouragingly, John believes that one day, both you and Sherlock will have the courage to reveal your feelings for each other.

Although he often feels like a third wheel, acting as a somewhat reluctant wingman in his friends' romantic escapades, he remains optimistic.

Until that fateful day when Irene Adler appeared at Baker Street, you found yourself returning the apartment after a trip to the market, the scent of fresh produce mingling with the cool, crisp air of a late autumn afternoon. As you stepped through the door, her captivating presence immediately drew your attention. She looked up from her poised position near the fireplace, her expression transforming into a warm, gentle smile that held a hint of seduction.

You placed the bags of groceries on the kitchen table, the clatter of jars and the rustle of paper momentarily breaking the spell of her gaze. In the background, you could hear Sherlock Holmes pausing mid-experiment, the unmistakable sound of vials clinking together fading into silence as he became aware of your arrival.

The atmosphere in the room shifted, filled with unspoken tension, as the two of you—one the immensely logical detective and the other a woman of enigmatic charm—interacted in a space that felt charged with possibility.

"Well, she's quite the adorable one! I had no idea you brought such a charming woman with you," Irene purred playfully. She stood up gracefully, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she gently tugged you toward her, drawing you both into the warm glow of the fireplace. The flickering flames danced around you, casting a soft, golden light that made the moment feel even more intimate.

Her eyes flickered momentarily over your shoulders, where she caught sight of Sherlock Holmes. His jaw was set tightly, and his hands were clasped firmly behind his back. He moved his knuckles in small, restless circles, betraying the turmoil brewing beneath his composed exterior. It was clear that he was grappling with a mix of jealousy and confusion, particularly regarding Irene's audacity in pulling you toward her.

John burst into the room, his breath still quick from a brisk walk along Baker Street. He paused mid-step, momentarily immobilized by the scene playing out before him. His eyes darted from Sherlock to Irene and then back to Sherlock as if trying to piece together the unfolding drama.

"‘Aren’t you a pretty little thing?’ Irene chuckled softly, her eyes sparkling with interest as she leaned in closer. Her fingers brushed against your cheeks, the gentle caress sending a warm flutter through you. With a playful smile, she let her other hand rest on your chest, feeling the steady rhythm of your heart thundering beneath her touch.

At that moment, Sherlock unexpectedly tugged you closer, his firm grip pulling your back snugly against his chest. The suddenness of it caught John off guard, and he couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow at the sight. It was a rare display of possessiveness from Sherlock, a side of him that John had never witnessed before.

His sharp gaze was locked onto Irene, filled with an intensity that seemed to burn right through her as if he was silently staking a claim on what he believed to be his. The air was charged with tension, and you could feel the heat radiating from him, an unfamiliar blend of protectiveness and desire that left you both exhilarated and slightly breathless.

"That's quite enough for today, Irene," Sherlock said, his voice steady and calm, though a slight tremor. Irene, ever perceptive, couldn’t help but notice the way his Adam's apple bobbed as he spoke your name with a softness that seemed at odds with his internal struggle. "We have a case to attend to," he added, steering the conversation to business. "Is urgent."

"You don—" John starts yet Sherlock gave him a angry glare.

"Case?" Irene chuckled, she stepped closer, the playful tension in the air thickening. Suddenly, without warning, Sherlock wrapped his arms around you,it caught you off guard. You could feel the warmth of his embrace enveloping you, a stark contrast to Irene's playful challenge.

With a swift motion, she grabbed your wrist, gently yet insistently tugging you toward her, as if trying to reclaim your attention from Sherlock. It felt like a whimsical tug-of-war, both of them vying for your focus. "You don’t have a case today, Sherlock," Irene teased, a smirk on her lips, her tone light but daring. "You never said you have a case today."

"We have now," Sherlock said, his voice low and laced with tension as he clenched his jaw. He tightened his hold around you, pulling you closer to him, as he took a determined step back, forcing you to stumble slightly along with him. "Good day, Irene." he added, his tone firm and unyielding, as he slid his other arm securely beneath yours, guiding you toward the door with an unmistakable urgency.

As he led you away, his eyes flicked back to Irene, a storm of anger and jealousy swirling within their depths. The silent message was clear—he was claiming you as his own. Mine. The intensity of his gaze spoke volumes, a silent declaration that you belonged to him, and he would not easily let go. His footsteps echoed down the staircase, each thud resonating like the petulant stomp of a child denied.

In a nearby corner, John rubbed his weary face with both hands, disbelief etched across his features. He hadn't expected this turn of events at all. The way Sherlock tightened his hold on you, the possessive aura emanating from him, was unmistakable—he had finally revealed the passion that simmered just beneath the surface.

JUST A BITE

You learned quickly that Bucky Barnes had the tastebuds of a man who’d survived decades of rationed food and army chow—because he could eat anything. And not just anything… but pain. Pure, fiery, tear-inducing, sweat-on-your-brow spice.

You, on the other hand, would combust at a medium salsa.

The first time you’d gone out to eat together, he’d asked if you wanted to try a bite of his dish. You’d said yes, stupidly trusting. And when you took a mouthful of his flaming Thai curry, it was like your soul left your body for a moment.

Tears streaming, hiccuping, you’d waved wildly at him while gulping water, and all he’d done was laugh. That rare, deep laugh that lit up his entire face and made your heart flutter despite the actual hell in your mouth.

From then on, it became a silent agreement. You’d order something gentle—creamy, sweet, or mild. He’d get something that could probably strip paint. And no matter what, halfway through the meal, you’d each push your plates halfway across the table.

“Wanna trade a bite?” he’d ask casually, like this wasn’t a weekly ritual by now.

You’d glare at him every time. “One bite. One. And a small one.”

He’d just grin, breaking off a piece of your naan or scooping a bit of your pasta with practiced ease. You’d do the same, trying to find a pocket of his dish that didn’t look lava-adjacent. You never succeeded.

Tonight was no different. You were at a cozy little Indian place you’d both grown fond of. You had your creamy butter chicken with fluffy rice, and Bucky had some devil-red vindaloo that made the air around it spicy.

You exchanged bites like clockwork.

He hummed happily when he tasted yours. “God, how is this so good?”

“Because you can taste it,” you countered, taking the tiniest possible bite of his. “Oh my god—nope, still evil. Still so evil.” You grabbed your mango lassi like it was holy water.

He snorted into his water glass. “You’re so dramatic.”

“You’re a spice masochist.”

“Maybe I just like flavour, doll.”

“That isn’t flavour.. it's... it's- I dunno but it hurts”

Still, you tried it. You always tried it. Because for some reason, part of you loved the way he smiled when you did. Like he was in on a private joke with you. Like he liked knowing you’d brave the fire for him, even if it made your nose run.

And maybe… you liked feeding him a bite of yours, too. Watching his eyes flutter shut just a little at the sweetness, the softness of it.

relinquish the crown: as long as i've known you pt2

Series Masterlist See my full list of works here!

Placement: Season 1, Episode 17 (finale); immediately after 'as long as i've known you pt1'

Summary: Your mother, Lady Sif, reacts to the news of your betrothal and the Allmother Frigga intervenes before she goes on a rampage to shed Loki's blood. Meanwhile, you and Loki have a conversation about your future

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Word Count: 2.7k

Warning/s: themes of incest (he's adopted but still) [let me know if i missed anything!]

Things to be aware of: literally everyone except Halley & Narda is stressed out here; headaches headaches and more headaches

Feedback is greatly appreciated! Remember, likes are great but comments & reblogs are treasured.

Of the thousands of years that she'd lived, the Allmother Frigga rarely, if ever, made any choices that she deeply regretted. But as of late, there was one that constantly haunted her every thought. A spell that she'd performed without taking the proper time to consider the long-term consequences of that action.

The spell to lock your memories of Loki and the love, the romantic love, you held for him.

Had it not been for that forsaken spell, there would not be this pit in her stomach over how your spelled self would react to Loki's surrender. To his confession of his own love towards you, if he chose to disclose it. For she knew in her heart how you, the real you, would react to such news.

You would have been tripping over yourself to plan the wedding. To even announce the betrothal yourself.

Your grandmother had seen with her own eyes how you once loved Loki so much with your whole heart that it was a wonder he himself did not see it whenever he looked at you. But perhaps you were both so consumed by your need to mask the love you both deemed too scandalous to see the light of day that you couldn't even see what was right before your eyes all along.

No matter how much she wished to, it was her sworn duty from the Norns themselves that she not interfere with the journeys of two fated souls. That she aid in whatever they would wish and have faith that no matter the obstacle, the souls would find their way back to one another. If the thread that bonded them was strong enough.

And she had seen your souls' threads with her own eyes. A brilliant glowing crimson stronger than even the thread that bound Thor to Sif, or Fandral to Narda. And so she needed to hold faith that you would break this spell yourself. That you would eventually fall in love with him again despite the barriers that prevented your mind from knowing of the events surrounding the Autumnal Equinox. The events at the pinnacle of your affections for him.

Even as she saw you storming out of the war room with your face crestfallen and fighting back sobs, your thread still gleamed that brilliant crimson hue. Not so much as a flicker in its glow.

She did not feel the need to ask what had transpired. If she knew her son as well as she thought she did, then he had done exactly what was needed to pull you out of your predicament with the crown prince of Alfheim. By whatever means he deemed necessary.

Frigga only hoped that he had told you enough to understand his actions, and why his hand had been forced to take such a crucial life choice away from you. She'd known that for as long as you so much as knew about the concept of marriage, you'd always wished to marry for love, like the princesses in those Midgardian fairytales you adored so much growing up.

And once more she loathed her having to cast that spell upon your request. Had you not had your memories locked away in the dark unreachable constraints of your own mind, you would have known that you were marrying for love when the time would come that you would walk the aisle with Loki waiting for you at the altar.

Perhaps through the events of your betrothal you would finally come to fall in love with him again. At your own pace. But for now, she could only keep the faith that these actions from many moons ago could eventually be righted. And her vision of your life together with your fated, blissfully married and in love, was not too terribly far off into your future.

It wasn't long after the men dispersed from the war room that the queen had to intercept your mother Lady Sif from going on a murderous hunt for her brother-in-law. "Where is he?!" she bellowed, her booming voice echoing across the halls. Frigga stepped in front of her daughter-in-law in hopes of halting her. "Your Majesty, much as I love you like you were my own mother, I suggest you stay out of this, your lecherous son--"

"I know, I know what he's done, Daughter," the queen tried to speak calmly, holding her open hands out towards your mother. "And there are other factors at play here that you know not of…at least not yet. May we sit together and I could provide you some context before you go off on a quest to divest Loki of his body parts?"

Sif took a long, deep breath before answering. "He has hurt my daughter--"

"No," Frigga protested. "Hurting her is the last thing he wishes to do. Please, Lady Sif." She motioned down the hall, in the direction of her workroom. "I ask for an hour of your time, and if you are still convinced that my son has come from a lecherous, selfish place, then I will bring him to you myself."

She did not need an hour to relay to the warrior the events that led to the day you were carried in by Loki into her workroom, looking faint in his arms before you begged her to perform the ritual that landed you in this predicament. That once upon a time, not too long ago, you would have happily accepted his confession and disclosed to him that you returned his love.

"She loves him?" your mother asked incredulously. "And this love of hers burned so fiercely that she feared what she would do once he'd chosen to love another? Because of course her logic would decree that Loki's affections could never have been towards her."

"Precisely."

"Can this spell be broken?" Frigga nodded at her. "How?" Her voice cracked as she continued on. "My daughter found the exact type of love that Loki once talked of before he left on his near millennium-long assignment. The kind that makes one wish to move the Realms itself. And her fear of this kind of love led her to a decision so impulsive and frankly idiotic that it looks like something Thor would have done not too long ago." She looked at the queen with frantic eyes. "Why did you not stop her? Tell her that her love was not unreturned? You could have saved her so much strife."

Tears welled in Frigga's eyes as she explained. "It is both a blessing and a curse to be able to see one's thread. I can only be a guiding hand, but I cannot interfere with their choices. Much as I tried to guide her down a path that would have led to this marriage under more joyous circumstances, she seemed steadfast in her belief that he would find her affections abhorrent. She was quite stubborn the day she begged for me to perform the ritual. Reminded me of both her parents when not too long before she was born, they also required a bit of pushing into one another's arms."

"Yes, but Mother this is different," Sif insisted. "I never approached a magic wielder to rid myself of my feelings for Thor. This spell…it's hurting my daughter. I refuse to watch her helplessly, I must help somehow. You may have promised to the Norns that you will not interfere with her journey, but I have made no such promise."

"What would you do, then?" Frigga questioned her. "Telling her what she felt long before will not miraculously make her fall in love again. This spell can be broken, Daughter. But only by Y/N. In her current state, if she falls in love with him again, her memories will return. All we can do is guide her."

Your mother slumped in her seat. "He saved her," she said in a surprised scoff. "He saved her, and now she loathes him. Brilliant as my daughter might be most of the time, I need to say it. These actions of hers…were imbecilic."

"On that, Lady Sif, we can both agree."

"So what do we do now?"

"Guide her," she said once more. "With a gentle hand. If she feels we are pushing her to feel a certain way, she may write us off the way she's already done for her father and grandfather."

"Perhaps a day in the seas," Halley proposed, her fingers tapping away on her handheld device from Midgard. "We could procure a few bottles of champagne, play some salacious drinking games?"

She and Narda had been giddily planning away the events of what would be your bachelorette party, deciding that it would take place in Midgard so that lodging would be squared away by means of one of the properties that you owned. Now it was simply a matter of booking the festivities proper.

"Ooh, perhaps we could hire one of those deliciously attractive male dancers?" Narda perked up. "Is that not a staple for these sorts of getaways with one's bridal party?"

Your head began to pound more furiously at the very mention of a male dancer, so you shook your head at your bridesmaids. "Perhaps it's best not to tempt my impulses, my friends. We know not what the parameters of this Norns-forsaken betrothal is and considering the precarious conditions it already stands on, I would much rather not engage in a risky dance with fate," you told them with a sulking pout. "Though I wouldn't abandon the idea altogether, we do still have Narda's nuptials to plan someday soon."

The three of you broke out into giggles, the heaviness on your heart unburdening by the slightest as you made your way down the palace halls arm in arm. The jovial mood, however, was short-lived, as you made a turn to find Loki a few yards away from you.

"Ladies," he addressed your friends with a curt nod. "May I have a moment with the princess?"

"Oh--Of…of course, your highness," Narda spoke, both she and Halley letting go of your hands and starting to walk further down the hall to pass the god. "We shall speak with you later tonight? To continue planning?"

You nodded at them, a tight-lipped smile on your face. "I'll find you."

Only once they'd passed Loki did he speak. "I see you've already begun your plans?"

"They volunteered for the task," you said in a clipped tone. The pounding in your head became sharper, a part of you almost feeling guilt for speaking to him like this. When you winced he took a step toward you, leading you to sit on the bench.

When he took the seat next to you, it almost felt normal, as if nothing had just happened in the hours past and you'd fallen right back into your former routine. And you wanted nothing more than for that to be your reality. To forget about the betrothal…and his confession.

But it was far too late for feeble wishes now. "What do you want?" you asked him with a sigh.

"Odin informed me not long after you left that we are to partake in a public courtship."

Your face contorted into anguish at his words. Your migraine worsened, pulsing at all sides of your head now, and you buried your face in your hands, willing yourself not to break into a fresh round of sobs. Not here. Not around him. You refused to let him see how this turn of events has wrecked you so thoroughly.

He placed a hesitant hand on your back, trying to soothe you, but you flinched away from him upon contact. "Don't touch me," you murmured into your hands.

"I'm sorry, darling," he said softly, retreating his hand back.

"You lied to me," you said, your voice trembling as you straightened your posture to face him.

He simply shook his head at you, reaching over to tuck a stray lock of hair behind your ear. "You know in your heart that that isn't true, little Princess. I have only ever spoken the truth with you. Your perception was simply mismatched with my own."

"So this is my fault, then? That I didn't see your lechery?"

"No, sweet Y/N, never." You flinched away from him again when he moved to cup your face. "No one would ever fault you for choosing to view our time together before today with nothing but the purest of intentions, and neither should you. You had never any reason to believe they were anything but."

"Why?" you asked him, exasperated. "Why would you do this?"

"There was no other way."

"What, because of the duel--?"

"Because of Damien," he blurted out, his eyes brimming with desperation as he took your hands in his. "Because of his intentions. My love, you may think me a lech all you wish, but I could not bear it to have to witness him worm his way into your life and gain Odin's approval to force your hand into agreeing to marry that prince. He wished to take you away to Alfheim and relegate you into barely anything more than an incubator for his heirs.

"He would have stripped you of all your choices, made you barely more than a prisoner in his Realm. My claim to the throne was all I had to bargain with the Allfather to keep you here. I did not surrender for fear of losing the duel. I surrendered for you."

His new confession took all the air from your lungs. Your rage turned towards the visiting prince, for you knew that despite the pain of your memories with Loki being tainted, you still implicitly trusted him to tell you the truth. He would not fabricate such a story about Prince Damien simply to make himself look even a modicum more honorable.

The knowledge of the elven prince's dark intentions for you softened the blow of your new arrangement somewhat. But there was still the somber truth that you both had to face. "You need to know that I could…I could never return your affections, Loki. This will not be a marriage of love. For either of us."

He only gave you a somber smile. "We shall see what the future holds," he said, a ghost of a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth once he voiced his optimism. "But Y/N, I would be remiss if I didn't at least ask for you to try."

HIs words caused you to let out a sound between a scoff and a chuckle. "Loki, there is no trying to fall in love with someone. Either you are or you aren't. Where does one even begin to try?"

The god scooted closer to you on the bench, briefly licking his lips before his eyes met yours once more. "Perhaps we could begin by you not flinching away from me when I show you affection," he proposed, your heart beating frantically and pulsing at your throat as he begun to lean closer, your faces inches apart. "And then we can find our way from there."

He took your lack of moving away from him as a sign to move closer, and he softly pressed his lips to yours in a tentative kiss.

At least try, the faintest voice in the back of your mind spoke, and your eyes fluttered closed. But the moment your lips begun to move with his, kissing him back, you recoiled, standing abruptly from the bench and taking a number of steps back, putting as much distance as you could between your body and his.

"I can't," you said, holding your hand over your mouth as you continued to step back from him.

You turned and took large strides down the hall to return to your chambers, feeling as if your lips had been branded with that fleeting kiss.

"What is wrong with you?" you hissed into the empty room. "What in the Nine Realms could have possessed you to kiss him back? He is your father's brother, for fuck's sake."

And just like that, your head began to pound away once more.

A/N: Well well well we're finally here. Welcome to the Season 1 finale of 'relinquish the crown'! I'm still in the process of properly planning Season 2, but I can tell y'all right now…the second half of S2 is fucking jacked with plot. Meanwhile the first half is filled with pre-wedding shenanigans, an auction, and some regular scheduled ✨drama✨

Thank you to everyone that's been reading this story, and seeing everything that these two have gotten up to throughout the events of Season 1! I can't wait for y'all to see what they've got cooked up for Season 2 💖

'everything' taglist: @simplyholl @loopsisloops @imalovernotahater @coldnique @loz-3 @huntress-artemiss @salempoe @athalialaufeyson @lokiprompts @kats72 @kikster606 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @lokixryss @thomase1 @mischief2sarawr @lovingchoices14 @lunarnights95 @goblingirlsarah @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @creationsbyme @maple-seed @mjsthrillernp @ladyofthestayingpower @sititran @glitterylokislut @ozymdias @fictive-sl0th  @lokidbadguy @mochie85 @silverfire475 @joyful-enchantress @elizabethmidnight2017 @holdmytesseract @smolvenger @lokidokieokie @superficialdomina @kmc1989 @november-rayne @goddessofwonderland @buttercupcookies-blog @peaky-marvel @lokiified @dryyoursaltyoceantears @herdetectivetheorist @alexakeyloveloki @lulubelle814 @jaidenhawke @km-ffluv @huntedmusicgardenn

Just Another Typical Day

Fandom: Marvel

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Summary: It's just another typical day living and working with the Thunderbolts* and also dating Bucky Barnes.

WARNING: THUNDERBOLTS* SPOILERS UNDER THE CUT!

"Wakey wakey! Time to start the day!" Alexei enters your shared room with Bucky at the New Avengers Tower. His loud Russian accent echoing throughout the room, "Up and at 'em, as you Americans like to say, eh?" The Red Guardian leaves as quick as he comes in.

You pull the blankets over you and Bucky and curl into his side, "I thought he'd tire of that by now," you grumble, nuzzling your face into his neck.

Bucky sleepily chuckles, "Same, we greatly underestimated him."

"Yup," you lean in to kiss him, but there's a knock at the door this time and you hear Yelena say, "You two better come out soon. You know how Alexei gets when it comes to breakfast."

Bucky groans, "Maybe I should've kept my place in Brooklyn."

"Yeah, maybe," you giggle and kick off the blanket and sheets. You and Bucky made sure to start sleeping with clothes on after Alexei had barged into your room while you two were naked far too many times.

You two quickly dress and step out into the hall, the same time Bob steps out of his room. You bump shoulders with him, "Mornin', Robby."

He shyly smiles and nods, "Y/N, Bucky. Morning." Despite knowing and living with the guy for a little over a year, he's still very shy with you and the rest of the New Avengers.

You all meet in the kitchen where everyone is spread out doing their own task of cooking breakfast.

Today, John is at the stove cooking the bacon, Ava is making omelets, Bob and Yelena are working together to make French toast.

"Just in time! Bucky and Y/N, you'll cut the fruit for the fruit salad!" Alexei gestures to the section on the large kitchen island where an array of fruits are spread out.

Alexei considers breakfast and dinner time as family time. Therefore, he makes sure everyone cooks and eats together like a family. Everyone except for him because, despite his good intentions, he's not very good at cooking. Therefore, the Red Guardian sits back and lets everyone else do the work while he scrolls on his phone.

You and Bucky stand beside each other, cutting your respective fruits and tossing them into the large bowl. Bucky hums to the music softly playing in the background and you sway to the music.

You also hear Ava and John arguing at the stove, "I just don't understand how you don't like scrambled eggs?" Ava says in disbelief.

"I just don't like the texture!"

"Most people usually say that about sunny side eggs."

"Well I'm not most people!"

You tune them out because arguments and bantering is very typical with this group. You weren't there when the group was first formed, but you take everyone's word for it when they say that they all tried to kill each other in the beginning.

Honestly sometimes it still seems like they're trying to kill each other.

You clear your throat and speak up, "So, John, you excited for visitation in a few days?"

John's wife, Olivia, had filed for divorce and got full custody of their son. Bucky smirks at you, you often played mediator when members of the group began to argue.

John clears his throat, "Yeah. I'm meeting them at the park again. He-He's getting used to me again, which is nice."

You nod, "One step at a time. Just gotta continue to show that you still love and care for him. You got this."

"Thanks," John murmurs.

"Dang it," you hear Bob say and you look to the other side of the kitchen island. He has egg all over his hand.

Yelena chuckles, "It's okay. At least you got it in the bowl this time."

"You good, Robby?" you ask him with a smile.

Bob sighs, "I've been watching a lot of cooking shows recently so I wanted to try cracking an egg with one hand."

You chuckle, "Not everyone gets it on the first try. Bucky sucks at cracking eggs. Gets shell bits in 'em every single time." You look at your boyfriend with a teasing smirk.

Bucky groans, "Must you always-"

"Yes, because it's funny and adorable," you kiss his cheek and it makes Yelena gag.

"You two are cute and disgusting. I hate you guys."

You throw her a wink, "Love you too, Lena."

The rest of breakfast prep continues with more banter and a few burnt bacon strips, but, overall, a success.

Everything is plated on the table that you're all sat around. Bucky serves you your food first then grabs his own food. You all eat and chat with each other, enjoying the normal morning you have before the business of work and saving the day hits you all.

You look around the table with a grateful gleam in your eyes. You're happy you joined this band of misfits turned heroes.

(A/N: AVENGERS TOWER FICS ARE SOOOOO BACK!)