#taris1kchallenge

[firefly-in-darkness]

The Lost Converse

Pairing → Bucky Barnes x Reader

Characters → Bucky Barnes, Natasha Romanoff, Steve Rogers, other Marvel characters are mentioned.

Summary → Last nights party was a bit of a mad one, what do you do when you wake up in someone else's bed?

Word Count → 3k

Warnings → Alcohol consumption, hangover, waking up in a stranger's bed, memory loss due to drinking but its fun and fluffy in the end :) mischievous Alpine…

Betas → @bccky & @kalesrebellion // all mistakes are my own.

Prompts → Lost shoe at a party - @tarithenurse for their 1k follower celebration writing challenge thingy!!

SSB2021 Square Fill → Pulling a blanket over them when they sleep @star-spangled-bingo

A/N → Hope you like this one - I've written a fair amount of angst lately so have something that's a bit more fun! & a huge shoutout to Vee @bccky for bouncing ideas around and helping me getting the story on the right track!

As always, comments and reblogs are appreciated💕

Firefly’s Masterlist

The thumping motion in your head made you wince, and the light streaming through the haphazardly thrown curtains had your eyes scrunching in an instant. The dryness in your throat had you reach out blindly to your side for water and only finding an empty nightstand. You groaned as you hauled yourself up, the hangover churning in your stomach.

A glance to your other side showed a dark-haired man lying away from you on his front, fast asleep. Luckily for you, even though you had scrambled to get out of the sheets, you were clothed. Well, partially, you only had a shirt and a pair of boxers on.

Wait, boxers?

You frowned at the suddenly offensive item of clothing and inspected them. They were a decent pair of Calvin Klein’s. They must belong to the stranger, right?

Your fuzzy brain screamed at you as you tried to recall the events of the previous night, but it was just a drunken blur, and thinking back was causing too much strain.

Looking around the room, you spotted your jeans on the floor, and as you slipped out from the cover, they caught on your foot. You dropped with a thud and grimaced at the pain shooting through your knees. A quick glance at the man in the bed showed him to be still settled and undisturbed. You audibly sighed in relief, then clamped a hand over your mouth when he turned over onto his back, but thankfully, he remained asleep.

That was when you looked at his face for the first time, his body no longer concealed.

It was James Barnes, your best friend’s boyfriend’s roommate. And there he was, lying on the bed that you had only been in just a few minutes prior. The next thing you saw was the mouth-watering abs that peeked from his top that had accidentally raised during his sleepy movement.

Your eyes involuntarily went wide.

Oh no, oh no no no no!

You internally berated yourself as you tried to remember, how could you have been that drunk? To not even remember how you ended up here, at all?

A wave of nausea roused the memory of tequila and many, many other shots that were well past the count you had tried to keep. That was all on Natasha and Sam.

But this whole situation was a completely inaccessible memory and more than likely your fault. Of course, you had a crush on him, but this was most definitely nothow you wanted to go about it. You wished that you’d at least be able to remember 'the deed' if anything did happen.

Finally, you succeeded in untangling yourself from the sheets and were able to gather up your clothes from various parts of the room. You ducked out of the bedroom, slowly pulling the door close to not make any noise.

It felt comical trying to tiptoe from the bedroom to the bathroom, you knew the route easily enough from your many visits with Natasha to see her now-boyfriend Steve, but with the unconscious bodies sprawled out everywhere in the hallway randomly, it was a little more difficult.

Luckily enough, the people who were crashing on the couch and floor weren’t anyone you recognised, but you couldn't be too careful when you were doing the walk of shame.

You spotted your satchel next to the TV and grabbed it before you dived into the bathroom, locking the door. A wave of relief washed over you.

You’d made it to a place that could be considered neutral. Nobody had seen you sneak out of James’ room, so it was as if you had never been in there… if you didn't tell anyone, of course.

Once you pulled on your outfit from the night before, you shoved the borrowed top and boxers into your bag. Fortunately, it had been a casual party, so simple jeans and a t-shirt were appropriate. You had the decency to wash his clothes before you returned them, but you’d have to think of a way to bring it back, maybe Natasha or Steve would help.

All of that you'd think about later because right now, all you wanted was some painkillers, a gallon of water and your own warm, comfy bed.

Unfortunately, there was only one issue, and it was the shape of your converse. You groaned and glared at the solo sneaker on the bathroom floor, swearing to yourself that you had grabbed both.

Even though you tried to think of a way to get home without your second shoe, you knew it was difficult, if not impossible to walk through New York with nothing on your feet. You had a little more dignity than that, not that you were showing it with how you’d woken up in a man’s bed with no recollection of how it happened.

With a quick splash of cold water on your face and a deep breath later, you were ready to find the missing item as quickly as possible. You twisted the lock with a soft click and slowly walked out of the room, your socks muffling the sound of your footsteps. If anyone could see you now, you looked exactly like a creeping villain in the Scooby-Doo cartoons.

After a few minutes of looking around the living room and kitchen, you realised that the only logical place it could be was in James’ room... and it was the last place you wanted to go back to.

The embarrassment of not remembering and dealing with the whole 'morning after' talk, just wasn’t something you wanted to deal with in your current fragile condition.

You tip-toed to his door and gently pushed it open, peering in ever so slightly and noticing James was still fast asleep on the bed, rolled back over with the sheets wrapped around him like a burrito. Your stomach sank with disappointment - you wouldn’t mind seeing his face and that little delicious sliver of torso again, but you reminded yourself that now was not the time to whine, you had a mission at hand.

One - Get the converse.

Two - Get out.

Three - Hope that James doesn't remember anything... or at the very least, has the decency to not bring it up the next time you see each other.

You snuck around the room, which was a lot cleaner now that the sheets had been moved back onto the bed and around him. You’d find the shoe in no time, for sure.

Which, of course, wouldn't happen. Luck was not on your side today.

You huffed as you dropped to your knees once more to check under the bed. A glimmer of hope came in the familiar silhouette of your shoe just out of reach, so you flattened down and stretched out your arm. A blur of white fluff whizzed past you with the laces between her teeth, dragging the converse to the other side of the bed.

You instantly straightened up and hit your head on the edge of the bed frame, making you wince. The pain made the thumping in your head ten times worse, and you decided that now was as good a time as any for the floor to split open and swallow you whole. You rolled onto your back and stayed there with your eyes closed, waiting for the inevitability of James waking up.

“Alpine, give Y/N her shoe back.” A deep gravelly voice came from the bed, it was stern but gentle for a scolding.

You stealthily peeked an eye open and saw that James was sitting up against the headboard, a soft smile on his lips. His hair was in an adorable fluffy mess, sticking down on one side from where he'd slept on it. The sheets were pooling at his waist, and you couldn’t help but ogle at the cotton top that was tightening across his chest and biceps before you forced yourself to look away.

“Looking for this?” James asked huskily pointing to the converse being held protectively by Alpine.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you up.” You reached over and grabbed the converse before Alpine could get her claws on it again, “and yeah, I was looking for this. Um, about last night-”

"-Don't worry about it,” James interrupted.

You shook your head, “please let me finish. I just want you to know that this,” - you gestured between you two with your index - “wasn't something I thought would happen, and erm, I'm not really sure what this means.”

You looked away, the embarrassment heating up your cheeks as you tried to ignore the nerves causing your stomach to flip instead of the alcohol.

“Nothing happened,” James commented, supposedly agreeing without much concern.

You twisted around to look at him with a raised eyebrow, not sure if you had heard correctly, “What do you mean?”

James smiled, a dimple forming on his cheek as he recalled the previous night’s events.

Bucky couldn’t believe his eyes, it was only the third time he had met you but there you were with Alpine on the sofa, the cat neatly snuggled in your lap.

He wasn’t sure what to think or do, or who he was more jealous of.

Was he jealous of you? The way his cat had made a connection with you quicker than any of his friends, apart from Steve but he lived in the apartment too, it was a given.

Or was he jealous of Alpine? The way the cat had so easily wormed her way into your heart, and how your fingers gently stroked through the white fur.

He was jealous of you both, he concluded to himself. He would never admit how he felt for you. His friends had already ridiculed him for his crush and Steve had consistently encouraged him to get to know you better, to do something about it. He always chickened out, you were way out of his league and probably didn’t feel the same about him.

But tonight, had been different, he could feel your presence more than ever before.

It was in the way your eyes lingered on his face a few seconds longer or the way you sent him a sheepish smile when he’d catch you staring. Your laughter made him feel warm and the attempt to dance in the kitchen was a sight to behold, even if he could tease you about the terrible dance moves later.

Bucky noticed you were too drunk when you started stumbling around the living room and slurring your words. He signalled to Steve, and he came over instantly, “Think we need to put this one to bed.”

Steve nodded, “Come on, Y/N, it’s time for you to rest your little head. Your room okay, Buck? I’d offer mine but Nat’s staying over tonight.”

Bucky gulped inaudibly but nodded, helping Steve carry your out-of-balance body to his bedroom.

You were going to be in his bedroom, on his bed, sleeping? He didn’t know if he’d be able to cope with you so close and he knew that the couch was off-limits. Sam lived on that thing whenever he dropped in saying it was the best part of the whole apartment.

Steve gently placed you onto Bucky's bed, and you attempted to remove your t-shirt, which Steve immediately stopped. The growl you gave him made Bucky chuckle and call your attention straight to him.

“I can’t sleep in my clothes.” You whined, the blank look in your eyes making you look even more adorable with the little pout.

“Well, you can wear these, if you want.” Bucky pulled out a top and boxers and threw them your way and he swore that you grinned at him, but your face was hidden in an instant as you slumped onto Steve’s shoulder.

“Okay boys, let me sort her out.” Natasha appeared in the doorway, making a beeline for her best friend.

Steve and Bucky headed back into the party, the latter heading straight to the kitchen to get another beer, to hopefully help him forget about the beautiful woman lying in his bed and how, at some point tonight, he’d have to join her if he didn't want a backache from sleeping on the floor.

Upon his return to the lounge, Natasha was already sitting in Steve’s lap and with a quick glance down the hallway, Bucky saw that his bedroom door was closed. But another surprise was Alpine pawing at the wood panel.

Bucky’s heart melted at the sight of his cat pining for the person behind the door, and he decided what the harm would be in letting Alpine check in on you, for the former's sake of course. He slowly opened the door, hoping not to disturb you if you were asleep.

Alpine instantly rushed past him and jumped up onto the bed. She did a little walk around before settling by your feet at the end of the mattress. Bucky’s mouth went dry and was unable to move from his spot. If you had super hearing, you’d be able to hear his heart thumping in his chest at the sight of you hugging onto his pillow, wearing his clothes.

Looking like you were his.

Bucky pulled a blanket over your legs then shuffled back to look at you and Alpine. Maybe one day, he’ll have the courage to ask you on a date. And maybe, just maybe, Alpine would be the catalyst to whatever might happen between you two…

Bucky clarified that there was no funny business and that you just went to sleep, “And that’s what you get for mixing your drinks without proper supervision, I warned you that Sam could be a menace.”

You remained silent and chewed your lip, appreciating the way he’d looked out for you when most people wouldn’t. It warmed your heart at the thought of him being the one to care, the uncertainty that painted your features was replaced with a smile, even if you were still mortified by your drunken antics.

“But I see now that waking up in a stranger's bed might have made you panic.” James rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly then got off the bed, putting on a pair of jeans.

“Yeah, sorry about that.” You muttered, the heat on your cheeks sizzling from your embarrassing behaviour, “but thank you, for not letting me make a fool of myself, well, more than I already did.”

“S’all good.” James grinned.

You stood up, not quite sure what to do next. With your bag hung over your shoulder, you headed to the door, “Well, I guess I’ll be off then, goodbye James.”

“You can call me, Bucky. It’s what friends call me.” He commented.

“Well, if you consider me a friend,” You looked back at him with a small smile, “see you around, Bucky.”

You did hope that you’d see him again because, even though you tried to fight it, your little crush on the man was growing with each second that you spent in his company.

A soft small body began weaving between your legs, “oh hey, Alpine.”

“She does that when she's hungry, I’ll see you out.” Bucky motioned out into the hallway like a gentleman.

Bucky stopped abruptly and you almost collided into his side, your hand immediately grabbing his arm in surprise. You couldn’t help admiring the thick muscle underneath and you subconsciously bit your lip.

“About time,” Steve sighed, sipping from a coffee mug, in his spot on the couch, “We thought we’d have to send Thor in to wake you both.”

Natasha chuckled and put an arm around Steve’s waist, “I’ve seen how Y/N is first thing in the morning, wouldn’t risk sending him in. He’d come back like a mewling quim.”

You dropped your hand from Bucky’s arm, but it wasn't long before he interlaced his fingers with yours. You looked up at him, heart thumping in your chest and he winked, legit winkedat you.

He headed straight for the kitchen and literally pulled you along with him. You caught Natasha’s mouth drop in surprise, which later turned into an impressed smirk as you shrugged in her direction with a grin.

Alpine remained at your ankles until Bucky placed the bowl on her designated mat, and she instantly nudged his hand out of the way and began eating, leaving you and Bucky in the kitchen in awkward silence. That was until your stomach began to grumble, very loudly, like it always did in situations like this.

Bucky gave you a lopsided smile, “Do you wanna grab some breakfast? I’m starving too.”

His eyes looked so stunning that you could get lost in them. You already had done that, if you were being honest, on the rare occasion that you were close enough to see the brilliant blues, just like now.

You grinned back and nodded, a little too eagerly at first, then you laughed, “yeah, that would be nice.”

“It’s a date then,” Bucky winked, again, setting off the butterflies in your stomach, “there’s a great diner a couple of blocks away.”

Steve shouted from the hallway, “Tash, we’re going to Peggy’s Diner. You owe me ten bucks, he finally asked her!”

You both groaned and rolled your eyes at the intrusion, but really, you couldn’t complain as you were still able to spend more time with Bucky.

He pulled you closer to him by your waist, whispering in your ear that caused a shiver to run up your spine, “I’ll take you on a proper date later, just us. Promise.”

fin.

As always, comments and reblogs are appreciated💕

Firefly’s Masterlist

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[maladaptive-ninja-returns]

This is the Loki (art) my Into The Thick of It fic is based on

Have a beautiful night my babies

Art by @aleksibriclot

[maladaptive-ninja-returns]

Into The Thick of It (1)

Loki x Female Reader

Chapter 1: The Cult

Series Summary: Her work as an agriculturist nearly takes the readers life is not for a stranger (and his weird looking dog) who later turns out to be the God of Mischief. Thrown into a completely different realm, you want to figure out a way home while trying to stay out of the way of this literal God. But fate has its own plans for the two of you.

Written for @tarithenurse and her #Taris1Kchallenge

Warnings: torture, sacrifice, undertones of rape

Word Count: I am on a break. It feels good to just breathe without dreading the rest of the day. Why is work so punishing?

MASTERLIST in bio, darlings. Tags are open (check bio)

One single machine whirrs in this dull laundromat. The light above you flickers at intervals so regular you have already made a beat out of it. The only other sound distracting enough is some old music playing on the radio at the front desk where no one sits at this hour. And that fan that seems to be breathing its last over your head. "Yeah, it's unbelievably quiet here," you mentioned in a soft tone before looking around the empty space. "I guess I'm glad I only had to stop for three days here." "What? Are you not going to explore this place?" your friend, Zaira's voice crackles through the phone. You shrug despite knowing she cannot see you. "I don't know, Zai, this place gives me the creeps for some reason. I am only hanging around here because Prashant wants to revise the reports I sent him of the soil composition before he gives me a green light to leave this place." "Damn! That bad?" "Oh! You have no idea!" You look around once again. The front desk guy has just come back in his old Chevrolet and the clock has struck nine. "Zai," you whisper in the lowest tone possible, watching the man whistle as he gets out of his car without closing the door, "there are no kids in this village-slash-town." He walks to the back to open the trunk of his car, whistling a somewhat familiar tune. "That's...not haunting at all!" Zaira's sarcasm can be heard in her surprised tone. "Well, what's more haunting is the fact that the youngest person here is an eighteen-year-old boy who keeps showing up anywhere I go and keeps staring at me funny." The man shuts the hood with a loud thump and you can see a fresh bundle of store-bought rope, a baseball bat, a bottle of some chemical-probably for cleaning- and a pair of rubber gloves as he starts walking to the entrance. "Allah-" Zaira takes the Lord's name in surprise- "no wonder they have The Sacrifice playing somewhere there." The man sets everything on the front desk, still whistling the same tune, which you now come to realise is the song that is currently playing on the radio. "The...the what?"

"The thing playing in your background," Zaira comments, "it's playing on a two strong instrument with a looping chorus. It's a pagan ritual song that is sung by some orthodox communities that still present a sacrifice to their pagan gods. We learned this in the summer session for cult studies, boo. Oh, wait. You were back home that time. The chorus basically says 'here's your sacrifice, now pay my dues'." Not a word of what Zaira said is heard after the pagan ritual song because suddenly all the materials resting on the front desk are making sense. So is the creak of the back door that opens to let the only teenager of the town in. Your body is frozen in place, your mind has gone blank. One moment you are running for the exit. And the next, you are lying on the floor with the two men hovering over you while the song calling for your sacrifice slowly fades away. . It is the discomfort from the heat that wakes you up. The sweat and stickiness all over your body slowly registers in your brain that alerts of a throbbing ache at the back of your head with a bang. Everything is a blur for a few moments; till the lights morph into fire beacons and the sun transforms into a bonfire, the figures moving around you become humans with faces smeared in blood. Your clammy skin shines in the light of the bonfire, your hair sticking to any part of you. Tears are rolling down the edge of your eyes while your brain is registering this new pain altogether from the gag in your mouth. You try to move your hand to touch your skull where it hurts, but are unable to do so. My hands...I can't move them. Your dizzy brain gives your body the command again but in vain. "She's awake!" a raspy voice pierces through the air.  And within a speck of a second, all the memories start rushing in. Y/N? Hello? Babe, can you hear me? Adrenaline shoots up in your system and your senses are heightened. The smell of kerosene is heavy in the air along with the crippling stench of burning flesh. You have been bound to a pole with your hands behind you, the bonfire in front of you, the forest surrounding you from every corner and the moonless sky on top of you. The faces in the fire are all familiar. The residents of this town, all staring at you while you struggle to get out of the ropes cutting through your skin, stop their movement to pick up the bowls kept in front of them and drink its contents. Your cries are muffled; partly because of the gag and partly because of the sobs that want to escape your throat just like your tears. Your already broken body jumps when the oldest woman in the group starts shouting phrases in a language unknown to you. And just as she begins, everyone around her takes out a dagger and starts moving in your direction. Your heartbeat seems to drop for a moment. They can see the horror in your eyes. But that does not stop their moments. The woman's chants grow heavier as her hand moments grow more vigorous. The youngest of them all skips a step or two to straight away jump on the platform where you are kept on display. He looks around once and turns to you to move your sweat laden hair strands away from your face. His pale fingers are cold, almost icy to the touch. "Don't worry, I'll get you out of here," he whispers close to your ears. Your sobs turn to sniffs to hear his words and look into his eyes. Those grey irises are trying to dig straight into your soul. "Trust me." Your instinct- which has never been wrong in your life- is already moving your leg to bend the knee and get his balls. And you do. Watching him writhe in pain for one long satisfying moment as he curses you from heaven to hell. But he gets back up, with the eyes of a madman ready to kill. You are crying out still, for anyone who will listen, in heaven or hell, as he takes you by your throat. The venom in his hold is enough to take your life. "The only way out-" he says close to your face- "is through, you cunt." One last prayer comes out of you as a whimper before you wait for his dagger to meet you.  In the next heartbeat, everything turns white. . Everything is blinded by a white light. It does seem to be the end. Why did I have to die like this dammit?! A Buzzfeed Unsolved episode?! But something does not sit right.  The white light should be the end, right? Then why can feel something wet under my h- Before you realise you are tumbling down the steepness of the forest. Your body can feel every rock and every pebble on the way down the seemingly endless slope. It seems like a long while when your limbs finally skid on flat rocky terrain, bringing the ringing pain to a halt before it can bounce all over your body a bit louder in the deafening silence. The first thing your senses do is look for any sign of danger around you. The forest is dark. And apparently different than the one you were in before. The trees are taller and with trunks that would not fit in your hugs. You cannot see their ends in the sky from where you lay. Not weird at all. The silence too sends your wounded heart into an anxious stir. Not even the cicadas speak here. Am I...dead? Now that definitely stirs something out there. A twig breaks in the distance. You pause your breath and shush your racing heart. A soft rustle of leaves can be heard somewhere that lets your sweat run cold all over the body. It is hard to breathe through the gag as it is, and you are standing nowhere near a hiding spot, making your basic instincts run wild with any shadow you see in this treacherous night. So all you do is stand as still as a trembling mouse and wait. And that wait isn't long. Call it nature's mysterious ways or just a random event happening at the right time, a cool breeze stirs the air for the first time in this place. From where you stand, the breeze hits your back, tickling those sweat beads on the nape of your neck before letting you smell the odour of blood it carries with it. All the neurons inside you make you turn around and face a familiar figure emerging from the shadows with a dagger in his hand. The basic instincts inside you are already making your body break into a run in the opposite direction. The rush of the flight instinct is overpowering all the injuries and you forget for a second that your hands are still tied behind you as you speed straight ahead. But that devil of a man is fast. He has already closed the distance and his hands are grabbing your hair, pushing you both to the ground. He presses you down with his body, not giving you any room to get up or free your limbs. But he does untie your gag before turning you around and holding your neck in a choke-hold. "Please, please, please..." Nothing else is coming out of you at this point; except for hot tears streaming down the side of your face.  "Well," the bastard sighs, pressing down his pelvis on your abdomen while having the audacity to smirk when looking down at you, "we had to sacrifice a virgin. But surely it's going to work the same if I put that mouth to work." The dread of his words does not set in till his free hand reaches for the button on his pants to undo it. The more you try to push away from him, the tighter he grips your throat. Oh, Gods! Just let me die instead. He is halfway undoing his zipper when a sound cracks through the air. It almost sounds like a very quiet motor either just starting or just stopping. And the closer it gets, it starts taking the shape of a growl coming from the throat of an animal. The man is distracted now; looking for the source of the sound. Loosening his grip a bit, he turns around to let his vision get as far in the dark as it could to look for anything out of the ordinary. And while he is busy, it is you who notices its presence and choose not to make a sound. The man turns around to look right into red eyes gleaming at him from a distance of three inches, sending him jumping up and crawling back on the ground as far away from you as possible. Huge white canines visible even in this darkness are on display as this four-legged creature growls in your captor's direction. A twisted horn rests majestically on each side of its head. Paws as huge as a lion's, but claws twice as big and dark as the night are resting on either side of your shoulder. The fur seems dark and dense except for where pointed bones are protruding out on its back. The growl revving in this creature's throat is enough for the predator to crawl back further with his heart stuck in his throat. And before he can figure out what demonic hell this creature had walked out from, he comes to discover another wave of fear when he sees a shadow behind it in between two trees. That shadow seems human. Human enough at the very least until he thought he was hallucinating that figure with gleaming green eyes. "Wh-who's there?!" the man's voice starts in a scream ends up in a squeak. "Get that ugly dog away from here!" The 'ugly dog' shifts from your side to take a few steps towards the bastard, metaphorically pinning him in between the roots of the trees he was sweating in. "Hey!" he shouted again at the shadow, "can't you hear me?!" You sit up, watching the creature slowly ready itself for attack mode. Turning around, you too are able to see a figure. It looks tall and is evidently clad in something heavy. Is that a sword in his hand? But that sword is not as concerning as those illuminated green pupils. "You son of a bitch! Get the fuck out of here before I stab you and your filthy farm ani-" "Rífa hann í sundur," is all you hear in a low hum from that figure's end one second. The next, there are growls and blood-curdling screams emerging from behind you; haunting enough to make you jump and curl up where you sit but never move your eyes away from that shadow that still stands as still as a rock. Tears still fall from your eyes; your legs pulled as close to your chest as possible. The screams continue to come out for a long time...long enough for you to notice a snowflake fall on your knee. More snowflakes come after the first one. And once the screams die down, you feel something brush your hands, almost making your heart fall out, only to realise that creature standing right behind you nudging at your ropes to gnaw your hands out of them. The adrenaline rush has diluted now. The pain and exhaustion that comes with it now lie heavy in your bones. Your eyes cannot take it anymore. But they still want to see that figure which now takes the liberty to walk out of the shadows underneath the clear light of the nearest moon. Your body is ready to fall but the creature provides some support to your lifeless limbs. Its fur feels so good on your cheeks. And that pale face coming to a stop in front of you feels almost angelic. Those green eyes are looking at you with both concern and judgment but what your brain registers first is the moonlight falling on those otherworldly cheekbones framed with clean braids. You want to keep looking at that face for a few more minutes. But there is only so much your wounded body can take before everything is a blur. . You have already hit deep slumber when the God comes to stand before you. He gets down on his knees to get a close look at your face buried in the hound's face.  "What do you think she's doing here, Agni?" Agni huffs and shifts enough to let the God have a better look at the face marred with wounds and bruises. A face that still looks so serene after putting up such a fight. The long pale fingers move those few strands of hair away that are blocking your features under the light of the moons. Calculations have already been done in that mind. What's left is to figure out whether to leave you here in the depth of the endless garden or... "Agni-" that voice commands with zero emotions, still studying your features- "call out for help. We are taking this one back to the camp."

[maladaptive-ninja-returns]

Into The Thick of It (2)

Loki x Female Reader

Chapter 2: The God

Series Summary: Her work as an agriculturist nearly takes the readers life is not for a stranger (and his weird looking dog) who later turns out to be the God of Mischief. Thrown into a completely different realm, you want to figure out a way home while trying to stay out of the way of this literal God. But fate has its own plans for the two of you.

Written for @tarithenurse and her #Taris1Kchallenge

Warnings: sexist remarks

Word Count: My jaw is selectively pounding now that my wisdom tooth is out and the stitches are in place. It feels so weird because its not like you can simply scratch an itch or around the itch in some way.

MASTERLIST in bio, darlings. Tags are open (check bio)

"How does this look?" Zaira is holding up a green dress that goes down to your toes in length. You give the deep shade a once over and turn back to your laptop. "Meh." Zaira tsks. "I mean-" you breathe and give your attention to your friend- "it's okay. For you. For me?" You shake your head and shrug before trying to discreetly get back to the screen. "Bullshit. You look amazing in green." You try to find the mouse on the screen. "Are you sure?" The question is bland. "Of course! No one can carry this like you! And for the sake of all things holy, stop looking at your death again and again!" Your brows furrow at the statement, turning back to Zaira, who still stands there with the green dress, except for one thing- the usual workspace of white and grey is now replaced with an eerily familiar dark forest with trees trying to touch the sky. "What?" It is nothing more than a whisper, this word erupting from your lips at the change in scenery. Your mind is at the edge of a realisation waiting to erupt when your hand feels an unwelcoming heat. The immediate reaction is to get your arm away from the laptop, or at least that is what you think you are doing considering the last saved spot of this occurrence in your memory. But there is no laptop. No chairs or tables.  Just a bonfire in front of you and your hands covered in blood and tied in ropes tearing through your flesh. And beyond that fire are figures in the dark chanting verses that are alien to your ears. But just as the chanting grows louder, you can feel a cloud of dread begin to loom of your heart; growing bigger by the second. Zaira! You are screaming her name but your voice isn't audible and you cannot see her anywhere either. Zaira!! You call out for her again when the figures seem to be getting closer to you, the anxiety in your chest beginning to hurt even more.  ZAIRA!!!

The loudness of her name in your conscience jerks you awake with the dread transported straight out of your hallucination. Still breathless and sweating from the nightmare, your head pounds at the sudden jump to the reality of finding yourself lying under a fur skin as heavy as you inside what seemed like a tent. From where you lay, the roof is a muddy beige colour dense enough to block sun or rain. Turning your head to your right, you can see a side table housing a copper goblet along with a copper jug. I hope to the Gods that water. I don't care if it's laced with poison at this moment. Turning to your left you are taken a little back to see familiar golden eyes staring from the copper jug back at you, so close that that saliva ridden tongue could lick you if it wanted. "Hi," you greet the familiar creature from the night of your nightmare, your heart still trying to dilute, resting by your side. The creature tilts its neck a little before you can see its tail rise up and swing from side to side. Such a doggo. You try to get up- with much effort, thanks to this animal duvet weighing just as much or maybe more than you- and breathe the cold air around you. Even though the anxiety of this recent incident is still looming around you in the corners you don't want to look at, it is a relief to feel the quiet around you. And the weird doggo looking at you seems to make those corners lighter, convincing your heart that it all ended not so bad at some point. Moving the fur duvet off you to get to the water on your side, you suddenly find yourself quickly putting the fur back on at the momentary realisation of something major amiss, bringing back all that anxiety that was watching you from the corners. "Where the fuck are my clothes?" you whisper right at the doggo despite knowing that poor thing can only swing its tail whenever you look at it. "They were tattered beyond repair." The voice immediately brings your duvet up to your chin before your eyes dart towards the entrance in front of you. No fucki-oh. A woman with skin paler than the pale described for Bella from Twilight stands at the entrance of the tent with a bunch of warm clothing. Her eyes carry a hint of grey and muddy green in them. She takes it upon herself to have already gotten permission to walk towards your side and place the clothes she has got in front of you before going back to secure the entrance. "You were fortunate to be alive in those deadly woods of the dark," she mentions while taking a thermos out of her dress and pouring the contents in the bowl kept on the makeshift table; all the while with her back towards you. You, still cautious of the eyes around you, slowly snuck the clothes inside the duvet to put them on. Only when putting them on, you realise the lack of a bra or panties; just a loose cotton camisole in their stead. ...okay. Maybe they didn't know my size. You look back at the woman busying herself around the tent. All you can see is the huge- and seemingly heavy- overcoat made out of an animal. Or maybe they...don't have the resources? Great, Y/N. Go be a judgmental b for the people who saved your life. The gown is a deep blue shade that neatly wraps around your shape and is put in place with the hooks, the last step being securing it all with the one string tied in what only you would call a bow. "So, it was you who saved me last night?" The woman brought you a bowl with steaming hot stew, bursting out in laughter on hearing your question. You stand there watching her immediately suppress the laughter as if she had been caught red-handed for a grave crime. "My apologies for what you just saw. It was not me who saved you." And before you can ask who it was, the woman gathers a wide bowl filled with water, a couple of hand towels and two bowls of what looked like homemade ointments, and walks out of the tent. You are about to go thinking about the materials that woman just took away when the only being you are familiar with, gets up from the bed, jumps down and struts out of the tent. "Wait...don't leave me," you whimper in a low tone, gathering a bit of strength to walk out right behind him. . The clearing in the forest has been turned into a camp with soldiers bustling in any direction you look. Swords, bows and arrows are being used for practice in one corner and the same are being mended in the other. Helmets akin to the ones Vikings wore can be seen on top of many heads. So can the undercut and braids. "Is this a cosplay fair?" you ask the one guy who passes by close to you. He is nearly the same height as you, but with a lush red beard and hazel eyes.  He- and his two friends- observes you from head to toe, almost making you realise how out of place you already look. "This is a war camp, missy. One where you have no reason staying." You mock a laugh at the audacity of this person. "I will decide the reason for my stay myself...boy." You start to walk away, trying to find any familiar figure in this quite realistic cosplay village. But last you remembered, there has been no such fair going on in the vicinity of that cursed town. A heated hand captures your arm and forces you to turn around. A wince comes out of you and flashes of that gory incident move before your eyes. Especially the face of that man. The Viking guy takes a step towards you, not letting go of your hand in the first wank. "Sigmund! Who is this wench with a quick mouth?" Sigmund, the taller of the three men, with bulky features and a sharp nose huffed. "Someone who needs to learn her place, Kare." "Aye," the last of the three speaks, "she does not look like help. Not in that silk she wears." Kare smirks through that unruly beard of his. "Why, are you that prince's mistress then, lassy? Is that why you came out from those royal tents, eh?" Kare turns towards his lads to laugh, who had slowly gathered now to watch the show, giving you something new to be anxious about. Agni, on the other hand, makes his way through this crowd to come and stand next to you, observing the situation. "Fucking dogs," you whisper under your breath- which you are trying your best to stop from trembling- and begin to walk away again but Kare is already hopping in your path. "Why in such a hurry, my lady?" He bows and turns towards his lads to let his words be heard by everyone "Give us unworthy lads a chance to find out how well you warm the royal beds, eh?" But the 'lads' seem to be having a sudden seizure. Either that or the joke did not seem to register. A sudden movement behind you and all the eyes staring past you assure you in your heart that it is the former one. "Your lads do not seem to find that funny, Kare." A voice not too deep but certainly somewhere right under the surface with a weight that can be felt in your bones, speaks from right behind you, freezing you where you stand. It takes some time for you to turn around and look at the source of the voice. And once you do, you realise how tall this man stands. His pale skin is radiant and his features sharp. You could draw straight lines just by referencing his cheekbones. His black hair- perhaps the only one with black hair in this cosplay fair- is neatly braided in braids at each side and the rest of the hair left open. What shampoo does he use? "I pity your mother and sister," this man continues, "for meeting your lads in an alley someday and being asked the same question." He does not stir his gaze from Kare, constantly piercing through that man's existence without so much as a smile.  "Apologies, your grace." Your grace?  You turn to watch Kare and his buddies drop their heads down and then it hits you. Your grace?!!! Your head whips around with the air of surprise as you watch this man in a new light. I mean, yeah, he kinda looks like a...'your grace'. "It is not me you should be apologising to." He doesn't even blink. He is as stoic as a boulder and everyone here revolves around him. "Apologies...my lady." The words bring you out of the trance that this man's face has created for you and you turn to watch Kare bow to you along with his 'lads'. "Ansa!" the man calls out for someone, finally turning to look at you. You have to catch your breath when those green eyes bore into you, the stare not too piercing and neither too soft. Just balanced. But damn the skies for it is making you lose your balance somewhere inside you. "Yes, my lord," the familiar lady comes out of the crowd to stand before him with her head low. "How is the weather today?" He simply puts the question. Within seconds you realise what the question really is about. You try your best to stand still in this chilly weather despite the sun high in the sky but it is as if he can smell the chill off you. "It's cold my l-" she realises it too, running to the nearest tent to grab a fur coat just like her Lord's and put it gently on your shoulders. "My apologies, my lady. Apologies, my lord." "Are the armies ready for the west front, Aren?" "Yes, your grace. Two battalions are ready to march to the mountains. They wait for my signal." Aren, a tall ginger with soft features gives a warm smile when you look in his direction. "Very well. Go for it then." And with that command, Aren walks to the space vacating in front of you, spreads his arms and transforms into an eagle to fly up and away beyond the nearest mountain. You are left with your jaw unhinged as you try to make sense of what just happened, turning towards the man in charge here; all the while pointing at the sky. "H-how?" "Walk with me..." that commanding voice a couple of minutes ago has transformed into a soft tone that captures a completely different personality of this man. "Y/N." "Y/N," he repeats the name as if to memorise it, and lets his arm gesture you towards the direction you are asked to walk. "I am Loki, of Asgard. Pleased to make your acquaintance." "Asgard?" you wonder the name out loud, confusion visibly dripping from your face. "There is no place by the name Asgard on the maps? Is this further north in the Alps? Wait...are we still in Norway or did we change countries?" The guards by the biggest tent make way for Loki and you to enter. Unlike the place you woke up in, this one houses everything fit for a king. From the bed to the cutlery. And everything has a colour theme going on for some reason. A real deep shade of green. Even Loki's fur coat carries blues and greens as if they had been specially plunged from the deepest corners of the oceans on earth. "Y/N-" he gestures you to sit down on the settee by the foot of the bed while he pours you wine in a goblet- "I have to tell you something. Be kind enough to hear me out before jumping to conclusions." You take the glass from his hand and sit down on the settee. Oh! cold hands! Is he okay? It's really chilly out there. "What?" You wait for him to start. Loki stands by the conference table and faces you, his hands working with each other as he looks at them before finally letting his gaze meet yours. "You are no longer on earth. You were transported to Asgard last night during the Pagan ritual, where you were conveniently made a sacrifice, and would have died if not for Agni hearing your prayers and tearing that scum apart." Silence. Loki’s features show no emotions when he narrates the reality to you. In fact, he waits for a reaction from your end, carefully studying those y/e/c eyes as they blink at him in unadulterated innocence, turn away to look at Agni and then come back to him. Ultimately, you take a sip from the goblet, letting the wine go down your throat, the involuntary reflex of tasting something not to your liking naturally coming over your face. Waiting for a few seconds, you bring the goblet back to your lips, this time gulping down the contents within a breath. "Okay." Loki looks at you with a focused glare before tilting his head a little. "Okay?" You nod. "Are you-" Loki pauses to come and sit down in the chair right in front of you but at a respectable distance- "okay with everything that I just told you? All the parts of it that do not make sense to a human?" You breathe in a lungful. "Oh, Gods! No. I am overwhelmed at this point. To even consider the fact that I am not currently on earth and that I was about to be raped by an eighteen-year-old cultist if not for your wonderful doggo and you, I am considering. Because now that I look at you I completely put you in the silhouette I saw last night. And I thought this was some adult dress-up show going on until a legit person just turned into an eagle and fucking flew away right in front of my eyes. I mean...it would take a good amount of CGI to actually make that happen just in the movies, forget real life. And if I am not on earth, the thought of getting out of doing mindless labour because your boss is an asshole is very appealing, mind you. Even though that means I have been thrown straight into a pit of testosterone-filled sexist Vikings who look like they will pounce on me the first chance they get. So...yeah. I am...I...uhh...have decided to shut my brain down till-" you simply shrug before breaking into nervous laughter and bringing the empty goblet back to your lips, raising it as far as it could go before it decided to release a drop into your desperate mouth. Loki blinks at you before breaking into a smirk that he hides from your eyes. It feels like he has watched you slowly crumble a little within the last few moments when all you did was talk. He has noticed those shaking hand movements and those trembling lips that force a smile to show they are doing absolutely fine. He has observed that shift of your fingers to scratch an itch on your exposed neck and that movement of turning that sole ring made out of iron in your index finger; hiding your anxieties in the rotations of that little circle. And now he watches you trying to dissolve the incoming anxious winds in alcohol. He knows this look too well. The look of fear; fear of the unknown. Loki raises his hand to you. "Allow me to refill that. With something better." You watch his hands and make a mental note of those long pale fingers and how good they would seem wrapped around anything. "Something better? I don't think Asgard could provide me with a Long Island Iced Tea or a Jeager Bomb. Or a Zombie." Loki simply chuckles and you find yourself stuck on that toothed smile of his. Is he the same guy who was dragging his soldiers in the mud like anything? Taking the goblet from you, he gets up and walks towards a little cabinet that opens up like a medieval bar.  "I sympathise with you being so far away from home. But I can assure you these...Vikings will not touch you or even think about pouncing on you ever." You furrow your brows and let your arms rest on each side while you tilt your head a little in question. "They know it better than to even think about what I claim as mine." You feel little chills go up your spine at his words, your legs going one over the other as you wiggle away certain scenarios from your mind. Damn! He should write dialogues for the entertainment industry. "Excuse me, sir," you press while raising your brow, "I may have fallen on your royal highness' land but that ain't making me anyone's property...considering this is your property." You cannot see it from where you sit, but the God chuckles at your audacity of raising your voice at him. He comes back to you with your drink. You notice that this time it is not the familiar red wine waiting for you in the goblet but something relatively darker and comparatively with a more medicinal odour. "No one will harm you. Agni will make sure of it. Isn't that right, beast?" You turn to watch Agni sitting right next to your feet, immediately wagging his tail at the mention of his name, contently growling as assurance. You notice how familiar this creature look to the Pitbulls back on earth. Give them pits some pointed skeleton for their backbone, a pair of horns and huge canines and these two breeds will be a copy of each other. "And we will find you a safe passage home once we reach back to the city." Home. unfortunately for you, the first thing at the mention of 'home' is the rush of crude flashbacks from last night of that horrid nameless town. No matter how hard you try to breathe in, the scenes keep on coming. Both Loki and Agni seem to sense the uneasiness creeping onto you. Your racing heartbeat and uneasiness of breath can be heard by them as clear as you can. "I hope you were not too attached to your clothes. I had to tear them apart to treat your wounds," Loki announces, gulps his herbal drink and walks towards the entrance of the tent. "Yeah, no problem. They were just clo-wait what? WHAT? You-" you get up and lower your voice for the fear of any third person hearing it- "you tore my clothes?" He nods with the most neutral expression you wanted to punch. "Yes. As you mentioned, they were just clothes. And nothing I haven't seen before. Now come on." You wonder whether to be relieved or angry with this one. Putting that thought on the back burner to simmer for a while, you gulp down the goblet without breaking any eye contact with him.  "Where are we going?" "To get you out of your clothes again," he states without skipping a beat and you have to question all the good you have thought about him till now. Son of a bitch! What an ass- "You stink. About time you took a bath."

[maladaptive-ninja-returns]

Into The Thick of It (5)

Loki x Female Reader

Chapter 5: The Secret

Series Summary: Her work as an agriculturist nearly takes the readers life is not for a stranger (and his weird looking dog) who later turns out to be the God of Mischief. Thrown into a completely different realm, you want to figure out a way home while trying to stay out of the way of this literal God. But fate has its own plans for the two of you.

Written for @tarithenurse and her #Taris1Kchallenge

Warnings: near death experiences

Word Count: so dad has put the entire family on juice therapy because I tested positive. It is both a surreal experience to feel your body just wash away the bloating/heaviness/cold/sore throat and a hell because you cannot eat anything else. I have been mentally making a list of all that I want to eat day after tomorrow.

MASTERLIST in bio, darlings. Tags are open (check bio)

The summer palace rests in the bosom of the mountains right next to the violet lake, which gets its name from the warm healer's rocks resting on its bed. The air is quiet and at peace. The night birds stir in the blanket of darkness and the light of the nearest moons while the servants and healers go about the palace doing their usual duties. The balcony overlooking the lake has been set up for a small gathering. Tables have been set for tea and cakes and curtains have been drawn around the sitting for privacy. A lone figure is looking out at the night sky when a healer makes her presence known on the balcony. "My queen, the tea is ready. Healers are waiting for your further instructions and the healing pods have been sanitised for use." Frigga turns to the healer and nods in confirmation. "Good. Tell the servants to prepare a meal and keep the mead at ready." The healer bows and hesitates to walk away. "Pardon me, my Queen, but are we expecting a patient or a guest?" Frigga looks back towards the night sky meeting the lake. "That is a good question, my dear." And she sees a streak of golden-green light emerge out of nowhere in the middle of space right on top of the lake. "Send the guards to the lake! Now!" she commands in urgency, her gaze stuck on that shooting star-like streak as it is slowly going down, never stopping. .

The fall seems endless. Either that or the perception of time has changed for your mind.  The stars in this galaxy are breathtaking. The view seems beautiful even as you are seemingly looking down on them, waiting for your demise.  "Y/N." You hear the familiar voice. The voice that has been embracing you all this time.  You want to ignore that voice. But the presence of that embrace is a hard thing to forget. You do not want this embrace to give you false hopes of survival. You do not have such good luck. "Hold me tight," the voice commands ever so softly. And without any hesitation, your arms are wrapping themselves around his chest, inside his fur coat. Your legs are crossing themselves around his waist. Even if it is false hope, there is no one else you would trust with your life at this moment. Your eyes are closed. Your grip is tight despite your insides giving up on you. The warmth of the God's fur coat suddenly seems to slip away from his back- leaving your hands and legs to feel the cruel current of the freezing air- only to feel that warmth over you. The coat covers you from head to toe, blocking the golden light emanating from Loki's magic; blocking the sickness of teleporting from that valley to somewhere else; blocking the lines of worry on Loki's face as he builds a bubble of protection around both of you right before you crash into the ice-cold lake. .

Loki is swimming for the surface as soon as he can feel his limbs move. He could already sense your grip loosen up minutes before you hit the water.  The nausea must be taking over.  Removing his coat from over you, he gains speed and bobs his head out of the water to breathe, bringing you with him. But your body is limp. He waits for a second, never letting you go, and calls out your name. Your lips are parted, your eyes shut, your head falling backwards. "Y/N," he calls out again as his limbs are starting to feel the fatigue of using teleportation and protection spells at the same time, "hey." He pauses for a second to bring his free hand up the water to hold your face in it. You are cold enough for his fingers to feel the difference. Your lips are slowly losing their colour.  He brings you closer to his body, changing his own temperature. "Y/N, open your eyes." His hand tries to shake you up. There is an emotion building up inside his chest. Unlike his usual self, he is unbothered to figure out what it is, for he is now being faced with the possibility of you not waking up. The very moment this thought crosses his mind, a growl of frustration leaves his chest, his hand automatically charging up to tap you on your chest with a force enough to push the water out of your lungs. Your coughing fit brings a wave of relief over Loki's face. Bringing his arm around you, he taps your back to help you throw out the water. At the same time, he feels the sheer will with which your hands wrap around his neck as your feet do not find any footing in the water. With all the strength he has left, he lifts you further up from your waist. Carefully taking off your fur coat to make it easier for the two of you to float, he gently pats your head while eyeing the familiar boats coming to his rescue. "Prince Loki!" The guard closest to the edge with a torch shining this way yells to alert everyone else. "Help her up!" That soothing voice has taken a one-eighty; cold in his command towards the Asgardian soldiers. You can feel the vibrations of his words in your chest and his arms slowly moving away from your waist. "My lady," one of the guards calls out, his hands ready to lift you up into the boat. But you are not ready to let go of the God. "It's okay," Loki finally whispers to you, forcing you to match his gaze. And when you do, a heaviness clouds your chest.  Hard as it is to let go of his touch, you trust those smaragdine eyes.  As soon as you are pulled up into the boat, your body is covered in a fresh warm coat. The soldier is telling you to have a seat but your eyes are stuck on Loki. Soon he is helped out of the water too. Your lungs seem to breathe easy, despite the cold making your bones shiver. His fingers tenderly wrap around your wrist. Within the blink of an eye, you and he are dry. "Are you okay?" you do not know where the words are coming from but your mind is too tired to hide them. Loki is adjusting his white fur coat when he stops at the question and looks at you. "Yes. You?" You nod and hum, trying your best to smile. Lies. That nod is a lie, hiding the pain in your shoulder growing with every passing minute. That walk from the gardens towards the halls is a lie covering the growing fatigue in your legs and arms. A deception; your smile on seeing Loki's mother. A smile curtaining this growing anguish right in your chest.  All lies. Uncovered all at once with a thud when your feeble body cannot take it anymore, shutting everything down.  It takes him a moment to comprehend the scene of your body lying on the floor. He calls out your name.  But there is no answer. Just a thick black goo-like substance running down your mouth while your fingers hold on to the bare furs at the end of Loki's coat.

[maladaptive-ninja-returns]

Into The Thick of It (3)

Loki x Female Reader

Chapter 3: The Magical Pond

Series Summary: Her work as an agriculturist nearly takes the readers life is not for a stranger (and his weird looking dog) who later turns out to be the God of Mischief. Thrown into a completely different realm, you want to figure out a way home while trying to stay out of the way of this literal God. But fate has its own plans for the two of you.

Written for @tarithenurse and her #Taris1Kchallenge

Warnings: nudity (lol)

Word Count:it’s so weirdly nice to be scolded by your therapist

MASTERLIST in bio, darlings. Tags are open (check bio)

"Pervert." All you hear is a sigh. "What...you could have sent a woman with me but nooooo. Mister's gotta see everything himself, right?" It's nearly dark in this already dense forest. The tall trees are not helping with the anxiety slowly creeping up your nerves to be all alone in the woods with an entirely different stranger for the second time this week. The last time that happened, you are sure it was when you had been placed in the baby room right after you were born. And this man walking in front of you without so much as a word is making it all the more nerve-wrecking. Right...not human. A Lord. Lord? Or God? Zaira told me that her sister works in Stark Industries and that one of the avengers was a God from Asgard. Is he...? "There is just one woman travelling with us. There are devious creatures at the springs. And I rather not lose a precious handmaiden to creatures who will come out to gawk at a human."

Loki's horse turns to look at him as if he asking him where he left his manners. You, on the other hand, make a face to dilute your anger somehow. "Right. This human isn't worth losing a precious Asgardian. If that's the case, just point me towards the pond-" "Hot spring." "-and I'll be on my way. Wouldn't want Asgard to lose their precious Lord either." You skip to come in front of him and bow as you utter those words before walking ahead. His presence is heavy all around you but you cannot theorise why it does not feel dangerous like it did last night; when you thought you were as good as dead. And yet you still keep your senses on alert. Like usual. "How does your kind live on earth like this?" You keep walking but turn around to look at him. It almost annoys you how calm he looks still. I mean, not like I'm the one who's dangerous but he could show some emotion, maybe. Even his horse is showing more expressions than him. "What do you mean?" "With so much fear constantly revolving in your veins." The statement catches you off guard and you almost miss a step while going backwards. Little bubbles of anxiety rush up through your feet to your heart and up till your head; your heartbeat is suddenly quite audible to your ears. "I can smell it off you since last night," he continues, still walking towards you, "but not from that man." "Oh, that!" you try to breathe in a lungful as forcefully as you can. "I think that's the side effects of the mechanism women build as they grow up back on earth when they learn they are not safe anywhere? I think that's what you smelled last night." "But it's not that strong now," he asks with null emotions on his face and a soft blink. You cannot help but look at him and then curse yourself for letting your eyes stay on his features for more than five seconds. "I wonder why." You feel your throat catch that breathlessness as soon as you turn back to walk ahead. But a cold hand is already catching your arm to pull you back. Curses fly in your head as you find yourself falling on that surprisingly steady chest covered with quite thick apparel when the ground does not keep you steady. One part of you- the part that thinks itself to be the only rational cell living in your body- questions the intentions of this God for pulling you so close to him that you can breathe in the scent of spices he probably bathes in every day. The other part- that seldom comes out; mostly when you are alone at home with an episode of Jujutsu Kaisen playing- seems to play a smooth string while wanting to make the wind blow between the two of you as time slows down when you gaze at each other. "Stop," you hiss at your second part, immediately stopping the strings and winds in your head as that part quickly crawls into the little hole it came out from, never realising the confusion creeping on Loki's face as he takes your words personally and immediately moves his hand away from your arm. You can hear the dumb, hidden part wince in the darkness of its hole as the cold, soothing touch vanishes within seconds. "We are here." You hear Loki but register his words with a lag. You follow his gaze and see a path hidden under the green leading up to where a very patient Agni is wagging his tail and panting with his tongue out. . The last time you saw a secret garden was literally in a movie named The Secret Garden. This time, the view beyond a cast of vines being pulled away by a literal God for you seems unreal to a fault. "Lýsa upp." The words barely leave his lips and thousands of fireflies float out of nowhere to rest by the edges of the pond Loki was talking about. They perch themselves on the flowers blooming in the night, or the vines hanging over the lone tree that covers the entirety of this body with its being. The pond is about as clear as day even in the darkness. So clear, you can see a school of tiny fishes at this end, and something bigger at the far end. "Is it safe?" You have to ask. Loki sets down his sword and satchel in the lap of the tree and sits down right there, facing the entrance you two entered from. Agni too roams in circles next to him before sitting down facing the pond. "What if it is not?" Every expression drops from your face. "Then I'll die naked in a pond because I trusted the first man I met in the woods. Oh, sorry. The first God I met in the woods." Loki cannot help but chuckle. "Don't you dare take a peak," you order the God. "I already s-" "YES! Yes!" You try drowning his words with your own, throwing your overcoat on his face before turning to untie your robe, "you've already seen everything I have. Nothing new. Heard that already. No need to remind me." As soon as you give Agni the loose cotton camisole, you dash for the water, making the God snicker where he sits when he hears the plop and a deep-throated low scream. "It's fucking cooooooooold!" Loki can hear the cold in your shivering voice. His hand goes to the inside pocket of his overcoat to take out something akin to a toothpick. "Give it a minute," he announces before putting one end of that toothpick in his mouth, holding it under his teeth and moving his jaw to roll that little piece of wood in between his teeth. You want to kill him just with your thought waves. But the serenity of the pond surrounding you is diluting your rage with every passing second. The flora itself is mesmerising. You can see blue plants sway peacefully near your feet and the further you move away, you find little yellow pond flowers surprisingly blooming in the night. A glance or two is passed in Loki's direction to make sure he is not looking; only to find the God levitating a little burning matchstick in his palms before whispering something to it and sending it to the nearest corner of the water. As soon as the flame hits the surface, you begin to realise that the pond is getting warmer. "Agni, did you pee in the pond?" The poor boy just wags his tail and tilts his head at your question. But this is not just any warmth. You can feel that numbing pain in your ankles being slowly replaced with a welcoming lightness. "There is a resting stone at your left." You jump at his voice, your hands immediately going for your boobs. This bitch! He hasn't moved an inch. Turning to your left, you find stone naturally carved in the shape of a bathtub half-submerged in water. Your back cautiously moves towards it and your butt just gives up once you cannot smell any foul play. Your shoulders begin to let go of the tightness and your legs are being tickled by the tiny fishes ready to eat any dead cells off your body. "This is no regular pond, is it?"  It can't be. Not with the way it is sucking off every wound off my body. And just as your insides think of it, memories of the previous night float inside your head like a little duck toy lazying in a limitless ocean. Every little detail moves ever so slowly in front of you. And just as it comes from the darkness, it dissolves into it, leaving you with nothing; just a few tears that run down your bare skin. You do not remember the last time your body and thoughts felt like a feather. You just want to stay like this; eyes shut, warm water, no thoughts. Just peace. A creature roams the pond, coming over the surface only when you have closed your eyes and let your guard. Green snake-like eyes and slimy skin with muddy hair slowly move from the farther edge towards you. And the more you seem relaxed, the more they surface over to reveal themselves. The water nymph is nearly as close as your hair length, positioning themselves behind you with the curiosity of a predator. Their padded hands begin to rise to the level of your neck. "Þú þorir að snerta eitt hár á líkama hennar. Ég mun rífa þig í sundur og fæða gæludýrið mitt stykkin." Loki's voice is smooth as the movement of planets but the weight of his words seems to strike where it needs to, making that water nymph scurry into the darkness it came out from. All the while, you sit there slightly snoring. The silence is beautiful. A cool breeze touches Loki's hair as if tapping him to ask the reason behind this smile stuck on his thin lips, one he is finding hard to explain but blames it on the kooky-ness of this human stuck in his world.  Loki turns around slowly, making not even the slightest sound for the fear of stopping these constant train of soft snores coming from you. He gets the first glimpse of your face, with your lips apart, your eyes shut and your head bobbing a bit while your shoulders are slowly gliding into the water as you are going deep into the subconsciousness. The God brings his knees close to his chest to rest his arms on them while his head is grounded on his knuckles as he entertains himself with the view of this one human snoring in the midst of her bath, her guards so down they must be visiting Hel as we speak. Time passes slowly- at least it does for the Viking God when he is lost in studying all the minute details of this creature out of place. His mind is taking mental notes: of how those little hairs on your face rest in waves, receding down the sides; how your nose flares up when you breathe in amidst the snores growing louder with every passing moment; how tiny moles mark your bare skin like contrasting constellations; how that one scar on your left arm has not healed completely, leaving it just as it had been; how head drops back on the rock when your neck cannot bear the burden of the heavy slumber; how your hair has a mind of its own, curling itself ever so decently down your shoulders; how there is a small stir of air around- No time is wasted. Even the water in the healing pond takes time to give space to the sudden emergence of the God's body.  His dominant arm is directed towards you while his other hand is holding the arrow dripping with the blue moat's poisonous blood, its head facing for yours.  The braids in the front are swinging, touching his cheeks in the process while everything else is still.  The figure taking the shelter of darkness has not relaxed his bow yet. Its eyes are looking for a breath's window to find your head again. Unlike a human, this shadow stays so still that even the leaves around it cannot experience its existence for those crucial minutes.  The only sound is your insouciant snores. The crickets have quieted down. The fishes have gone back under their rocks. The fireflies have taken cover under the leaves, turning off any light there are; so that the only glow is the illumination of these smaragdine eyes burning as they glare over their shoulder in the direction of the shadow. Nothing moves between these two entities. The hand holding the arrow that was aimed for you bursts into golden flames, instantly turning the poison and wood into ashes. The hand holding the stretched bow takes three seconds before the shadow lowers its weapon, moves its gloved hand and its chest to press an intricate pendant. The pendant lights up with a pure white glow before emanating a cloud of darkness that dissolves the shadow into nothing. And once the shadow does dissolve. one can see the God standing two feet behind where the assassin was, already capturing that essence- this possible murderer left- into a pyramid-like device in his hand. Once the device clicks close, it is sent into the pocket dimension and God's being dissolves automatically. The real Loki still stands inside the pond, not having moved even an inch. His senses are still sharp when he hears a familiar set of footsteps climbing up the stairs, not really liking the idea of what is about to commence. It is the thunderous laugh that breaks you from the best sleep you had in the past three years. You try to go back into the arms of the temptress that is this healing slumber when that laugh gets closer along with a few more voices joining in. Rubbing that moaning temptress from your eyes, you see a shadow in your vision. And beyond that shadow are lights coming into view with one...two...three figures by the tree where Loki was last sitting. Just as your vision becomes clear, a well-built man with his blonde hair tied and in braids is seen with his head turned- in confusion- to get a clearer look at you. Another blonde guy with a carefree and pride-filled gait follows the former's lead to look and whistle in your direction, making you realise the nakedness of your situation. Your body immediately slips down the water till your chin until your eye registers the familiarity of the shadow standing between you and those new perverts there. "Didn't take you for the God who likes to enjoy himself in the wild," the latter of the blondes chuckles out loud. The former Viking slaps the back of his hand on his friend's chest while he is still trying to figure the situation out. Every cell in your body activates the basic instinct and your limbs are naturally moving to get close to Loki's back.  You find yourself clenching to his cloak for your life, hoping to any force of the universe that would listen to you not to turn this situation into one like last night. "Didn't take you for someone who prefers a laugh over someone's dignity," Loki retorts while casually slipping the cloak from his arms to make it subtly land on you. “Is one of you hurt, Loki?” The Viking asks with concern heavy in his voice. “No, Thor, we were just trying to test how cold the healing waters are.” Thor understands the sarcasm in his brother’s voice. “Our apologies, my lady,” he directs his voice to you, making you shiver under the cloak while you still hide behind Loki, “we intend no harm. We came here after a fruitful battle to get our wounds tended by the healing waters too.” Silence. “Who’s that?” You whisper the question as close to his back as you can. Loki blinks. “That…is my brother.” You do not realise how hard your fists are clutching onto Loki’s shirt. Neither do you realise how clear is your anxious heart in his ears. “Don’t worry,” Loki announces softly, turning his head a little in your direction, “the only thing he is capable of doing is either being too chivalrous or too brute.” “Fandral,” Thor announces, “let us give the lady some space that we clearly seem to have violated. I apologise again and would take it as a token of forgiveness to let us accompany you back to our camp till we reach back home.” You are waiting for your saviour to say something and realise that the God is busy scratching an itch on his neck, expecting you to answer. The question was for me. So…obviously! Your inner voice goes ‘duh’ at you. Clearing your throat, you manage to just shift so much as to show your face from behind Loki. “I’ll only go if Loki accompanies m-us.” The look of confused surprise seems superficial on Fandral’s face but Thor seems to be going deeper than just the surface. “Looks like you have learned a new enchantment spell, Loki.” Fandral is quick to tease with a smirk. “Enchantment or not, at least he didn’t ogle at a naked woman at first sight and then stay there to see where it was going!” You snap back at him. That all smiles face is certainly not feeling that jovial anymore. Especially not when your gaze is burning a hole through his ego. You cannot see but Loki’s brow has shot up and a light smirk sits on the corner of his lips. Thor, on the other hand, is pinching his friend on his waist and pushing him out of the radius of your rage. “We will-“ Thor barely catches himself from tripping over the roots of the tree, still pushing Fandral and himself down the stairs, “we will wait for you.” “I too am going down with them.” Loki steps away from you to get out of the pond and your senses start to bang loudly inside you, covering you in his cloak, trying to hold your footing in the water as you begin to walk behind him, looking around for any more brothers and their pervy friends. Out of the pond with not a drop of water sticking to his clothes, you envy this one for the first time since having met him. Not to mention how your brain is struggling to do the math of getting out of the pond with the cloak and your dignity intact. Loki seems to answer that question gladly with his hand out for you to grab. You look up with the question of what could probably be going in his head. His eyes, on the contrary, are quite clear. No thoughts. Just a hand reaching out to help you, waiting patiently. One hand grabbing the warmth filled with his scent tightly, the other goes on to hold his. Your hand seems so tiny in his palm. Your anxious heat is being siphoned off by his cold one. Once your fingers have curled themselves around his palm, his fingers curl around the back of your hand with a firm grip.  With one leg exposed as it takes the support of a stone on the edge, Loki seems to barely use any strength to pull you out of the water. He barely emotes when you nearly lose your footing but he is quick to grab your waist and pull you close to him. At this moment you are just glad that human thoughts are not audible, otherwise, the screams might have woken up all the resting animals within a kilometre of you.  This has got to be the cringiest and cheesiest situation I have been in. "Hm?" Loki tilts his head a little. "Hm? Nothing. I was wondering where Agni went." "He is out somewhere chasing a shadow." Loki lets go of you the second time this night and you still cannot believe you are feeling bad about it. He walks down the stairs into the shadows of the forest, leaving you with his cloak and your clothes by the tree. You stand there, surrounded by fireflies, wondering what exactly was the decision you took that landed you in such close proximity to a God that is nowhere on the scale of the men and women you had fallen for back on earth. "Fcuk!" the word comes out as a tired yet frustration filled realisation. And it just does not stop there. It comes out repeatedly while you jump around stomping your feet in some adolescent ritual under the tree till all the fucks in your system have been thrown out. "Gods! why does it always have to be the fuckers that can kill with their bloody eyes!!!"

[princessmisery666]

I loved this, smiled like a dork all the way through 😻😻😻

The Lost Converse

Pairing → Bucky Barnes x Reader

Characters → Bucky Barnes, Natasha Romanoff, Steve Rogers, other Marvel characters are mentioned.

Summary → Last nights party was a bit of a mad one, what do you do when you wake up in someone else's bed?

Word Count → 3k

Warnings → Alcohol consumption, hangover, waking up in a stranger's bed, memory loss due to drinking but its fun and fluffy in the end :) mischievous Alpine…

Betas → @bccky & @kalesrebellion // all mistakes are my own.

Prompts → Lost shoe at a party - @tarithenurse for their 1k follower celebration writing challenge thingy!!

SSB2021 Square Fill → Pulling a blanket over them when they sleep @star-spangled-bingo

A/N → Hope you like this one - I've written a fair amount of angst lately so have something that's a bit more fun! & a huge shoutout to Vee @bccky for bouncing ideas around and helping me getting the story on the right track!

As always, comments and reblogs are appreciated💕

Firefly’s Masterlist

The thumping motion in your head made you wince, and the light streaming through the haphazardly thrown curtains had your eyes scrunching in an instant. The dryness in your throat had you reach out blindly to your side for water and only finding an empty nightstand. You groaned as you hauled yourself up, the hangover churning in your stomach.

A glance to your other side showed a dark-haired man lying away from you on his front, fast asleep. Luckily for you, even though you had scrambled to get out of the sheets, you were clothed. Well, partially, you only had a shirt and a pair of boxers on.

Wait, boxers?

You frowned at the suddenly offensive item of clothing and inspected them. They were a decent pair of Calvin Klein’s. They must belong to the stranger, right?

Your fuzzy brain screamed at you as you tried to recall the events of the previous night, but it was just a drunken blur, and thinking back was causing too much strain.

Looking around the room, you spotted your jeans on the floor, and as you slipped out from the cover, they caught on your foot. You dropped with a thud and grimaced at the pain shooting through your knees. A quick glance at the man in the bed showed him to be still settled and undisturbed. You audibly sighed in relief, then clamped a hand over your mouth when he turned over onto his back, but thankfully, he remained asleep.

That was when you looked at his face for the first time, his body no longer concealed.

It was James Barnes, your best friend’s boyfriend’s roommate. And there he was, lying on the bed that you had only been in just a few minutes prior. The next thing you saw was the mouth-watering abs that peeked from his top that had accidentally raised during his sleepy movement.

Your eyes involuntarily went wide.

Oh no, oh no no no no!

You internally berated yourself as you tried to remember, how could you have been that drunk? To not even remember how you ended up here, at all?

A wave of nausea roused the memory of tequila and many, many other shots that were well past the count you had tried to keep. That was all on Natasha and Sam.

But this whole situation was a completely inaccessible memory and more than likely your fault. Of course, you had a crush on him, but this was most definitely nothow you wanted to go about it. You wished that you’d at least be able to remember 'the deed' if anything did happen.

Finally, you succeeded in untangling yourself from the sheets and were able to gather up your clothes from various parts of the room. You ducked out of the bedroom, slowly pulling the door close to not make any noise.

It felt comical trying to tiptoe from the bedroom to the bathroom, you knew the route easily enough from your many visits with Natasha to see her now-boyfriend Steve, but with the unconscious bodies sprawled out everywhere in the hallway randomly, it was a little more difficult.

Luckily enough, the people who were crashing on the couch and floor weren’t anyone you recognised, but you couldn't be too careful when you were doing the walk of shame.

You spotted your satchel next to the TV and grabbed it before you dived into the bathroom, locking the door. A wave of relief washed over you.

You’d made it to a place that could be considered neutral. Nobody had seen you sneak out of James’ room, so it was as if you had never been in there… if you didn't tell anyone, of course.

Once you pulled on your outfit from the night before, you shoved the borrowed top and boxers into your bag. Fortunately, it had been a casual party, so simple jeans and a t-shirt were appropriate. You had the decency to wash his clothes before you returned them, but you’d have to think of a way to bring it back, maybe Natasha or Steve would help.

All of that you'd think about later because right now, all you wanted was some painkillers, a gallon of water and your own warm, comfy bed.

Unfortunately, there was only one issue, and it was the shape of your converse. You groaned and glared at the solo sneaker on the bathroom floor, swearing to yourself that you had grabbed both.

Even though you tried to think of a way to get home without your second shoe, you knew it was difficult, if not impossible to walk through New York with nothing on your feet. You had a little more dignity than that, not that you were showing it with how you’d woken up in a man’s bed with no recollection of how it happened.

With a quick splash of cold water on your face and a deep breath later, you were ready to find the missing item as quickly as possible. You twisted the lock with a soft click and slowly walked out of the room, your socks muffling the sound of your footsteps. If anyone could see you now, you looked exactly like a creeping villain in the Scooby-Doo cartoons.

After a few minutes of looking around the living room and kitchen, you realised that the only logical place it could be was in James’ room... and it was the last place you wanted to go back to.

The embarrassment of not remembering and dealing with the whole 'morning after' talk, just wasn’t something you wanted to deal with in your current fragile condition.

You tip-toed to his door and gently pushed it open, peering in ever so slightly and noticing James was still fast asleep on the bed, rolled back over with the sheets wrapped around him like a burrito. Your stomach sank with disappointment - you wouldn’t mind seeing his face and that little delicious sliver of torso again, but you reminded yourself that now was not the time to whine, you had a mission at hand.

One - Get the converse.

Two - Get out.

Three - Hope that James doesn't remember anything... or at the very least, has the decency to not bring it up the next time you see each other.

You snuck around the room, which was a lot cleaner now that the sheets had been moved back onto the bed and around him. You’d find the shoe in no time, for sure.

Which, of course, wouldn't happen. Luck was not on your side today.

You huffed as you dropped to your knees once more to check under the bed. A glimmer of hope came in the familiar silhouette of your shoe just out of reach, so you flattened down and stretched out your arm. A blur of white fluff whizzed past you with the laces between her teeth, dragging the converse to the other side of the bed.

You instantly straightened up and hit your head on the edge of the bed frame, making you wince. The pain made the thumping in your head ten times worse, and you decided that now was as good a time as any for the floor to split open and swallow you whole. You rolled onto your back and stayed there with your eyes closed, waiting for the inevitability of James waking up.

“Alpine, give Y/N her shoe back.” A deep gravelly voice came from the bed, it was stern but gentle for a scolding.

You stealthily peeked an eye open and saw that James was sitting up against the headboard, a soft smile on his lips. His hair was in an adorable fluffy mess, sticking down on one side from where he'd slept on it. The sheets were pooling at his waist, and you couldn’t help but ogle at the cotton top that was tightening across his chest and biceps before you forced yourself to look away.

“Looking for this?” James asked huskily pointing to the converse being held protectively by Alpine.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you up.” You reached over and grabbed the converse before Alpine could get her claws on it again, “and yeah, I was looking for this. Um, about last night-”

"-Don't worry about it,” James interrupted.

You shook your head, “please let me finish. I just want you to know that this,” - you gestured between you two with your index - “wasn't something I thought would happen, and erm, I'm not really sure what this means.”

You looked away, the embarrassment heating up your cheeks as you tried to ignore the nerves causing your stomach to flip instead of the alcohol.

“Nothing happened,” James commented, supposedly agreeing without much concern.

You twisted around to look at him with a raised eyebrow, not sure if you had heard correctly, “What do you mean?”

James smiled, a dimple forming on his cheek as he recalled the previous night’s events.

Bucky couldn’t believe his eyes, it was only the third time he had met you but there you were with Alpine on the sofa, the cat neatly snuggled in your lap.

He wasn’t sure what to think or do, or who he was more jealous of.

Was he jealous of you? The way his cat had made a connection with you quicker than any of his friends, apart from Steve but he lived in the apartment too, it was a given.

Or was he jealous of Alpine? The way the cat had so easily wormed her way into your heart, and how your fingers gently stroked through the white fur.

He was jealous of you both, he concluded to himself. He would never admit how he felt for you. His friends had already ridiculed him for his crush and Steve had consistently encouraged him to get to know you better, to do something about it. He always chickened out, you were way out of his league and probably didn’t feel the same about him.

But tonight, had been different, he could feel your presence more than ever before.

It was in the way your eyes lingered on his face a few seconds longer or the way you sent him a sheepish smile when he’d catch you staring. Your laughter made him feel warm and the attempt to dance in the kitchen was a sight to behold, even if he could tease you about the terrible dance moves later.

Bucky noticed you were too drunk when you started stumbling around the living room and slurring your words. He signalled to Steve, and he came over instantly, “Think we need to put this one to bed.”

Steve nodded, “Come on, Y/N, it’s time for you to rest your little head. Your room okay, Buck? I’d offer mine but Nat’s staying over tonight.”

Bucky gulped inaudibly but nodded, helping Steve carry your out-of-balance body to his bedroom.

You were going to be in his bedroom, on his bed, sleeping? He didn’t know if he’d be able to cope with you so close and he knew that the couch was off-limits. Sam lived on that thing whenever he dropped in saying it was the best part of the whole apartment.

Steve gently placed you onto Bucky's bed, and you attempted to remove your t-shirt, which Steve immediately stopped. The growl you gave him made Bucky chuckle and call your attention straight to him.

“I can’t sleep in my clothes.” You whined, the blank look in your eyes making you look even more adorable with the little pout.

“Well, you can wear these, if you want.” Bucky pulled out a top and boxers and threw them your way and he swore that you grinned at him, but your face was hidden in an instant as you slumped onto Steve’s shoulder.

“Okay boys, let me sort her out.” Natasha appeared in the doorway, making a beeline for her best friend.

Steve and Bucky headed back into the party, the latter heading straight to the kitchen to get another beer, to hopefully help him forget about the beautiful woman lying in his bed and how, at some point tonight, he’d have to join her if he didn't want a backache from sleeping on the floor.

Upon his return to the lounge, Natasha was already sitting in Steve’s lap and with a quick glance down the hallway, Bucky saw that his bedroom door was closed. But another surprise was Alpine pawing at the wood panel.

Bucky’s heart melted at the sight of his cat pining for the person behind the door, and he decided what the harm would be in letting Alpine check in on you, for the former's sake of course. He slowly opened the door, hoping not to disturb you if you were asleep.

Alpine instantly rushed past him and jumped up onto the bed. She did a little walk around before settling by your feet at the end of the mattress. Bucky’s mouth went dry and was unable to move from his spot. If you had super hearing, you’d be able to hear his heart thumping in his chest at the sight of you hugging onto his pillow, wearing his clothes.

Looking like you were his.

Bucky pulled a blanket over your legs then shuffled back to look at you and Alpine. Maybe one day, he’ll have the courage to ask you on a date. And maybe, just maybe, Alpine would be the catalyst to whatever might happen between you two…

Bucky clarified that there was no funny business and that you just went to sleep, “And that’s what you get for mixing your drinks without proper supervision, I warned you that Sam could be a menace.”

You remained silent and chewed your lip, appreciating the way he’d looked out for you when most people wouldn’t. It warmed your heart at the thought of him being the one to care, the uncertainty that painted your features was replaced with a smile, even if you were still mortified by your drunken antics.

“But I see now that waking up in a stranger's bed might have made you panic.” James rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly then got off the bed, putting on a pair of jeans.

“Yeah, sorry about that.” You muttered, the heat on your cheeks sizzling from your embarrassing behaviour, “but thank you, for not letting me make a fool of myself, well, more than I already did.”

“S’all good.” James grinned.

You stood up, not quite sure what to do next. With your bag hung over your shoulder, you headed to the door, “Well, I guess I’ll be off then, goodbye James.”

“You can call me, Bucky. It’s what friends call me.” He commented.

“Well, if you consider me a friend,” You looked back at him with a small smile, “see you around, Bucky.”

You did hope that you’d see him again because, even though you tried to fight it, your little crush on the man was growing with each second that you spent in his company.

A soft small body began weaving between your legs, “oh hey, Alpine.”

“She does that when she's hungry, I’ll see you out.” Bucky motioned out into the hallway like a gentleman.

Bucky stopped abruptly and you almost collided into his side, your hand immediately grabbing his arm in surprise. You couldn’t help admiring the thick muscle underneath and you subconsciously bit your lip.

“About time,” Steve sighed, sipping from a coffee mug, in his spot on the couch, “We thought we’d have to send Thor in to wake you both.”

Natasha chuckled and put an arm around Steve’s waist, “I’ve seen how Y/N is first thing in the morning, wouldn’t risk sending him in. He’d come back like a mewling quim.”

You dropped your hand from Bucky’s arm, but it wasn't long before he interlaced his fingers with yours. You looked up at him, heart thumping in your chest and he winked, legit winkedat you.

He headed straight for the kitchen and literally pulled you along with him. You caught Natasha’s mouth drop in surprise, which later turned into an impressed smirk as you shrugged in her direction with a grin.

Alpine remained at your ankles until Bucky placed the bowl on her designated mat, and she instantly nudged his hand out of the way and began eating, leaving you and Bucky in the kitchen in awkward silence. That was until your stomach began to grumble, very loudly, like it always did in situations like this.

Bucky gave you a lopsided smile, “Do you wanna grab some breakfast? I’m starving too.”

His eyes looked so stunning that you could get lost in them. You already had done that, if you were being honest, on the rare occasion that you were close enough to see the brilliant blues, just like now.

You grinned back and nodded, a little too eagerly at first, then you laughed, “yeah, that would be nice.”

“It’s a date then,” Bucky winked, again, setting off the butterflies in your stomach, “there’s a great diner a couple of blocks away.”

Steve shouted from the hallway, “Tash, we’re going to Peggy’s Diner. You owe me ten bucks, he finally asked her!”

You both groaned and rolled your eyes at the intrusion, but really, you couldn’t complain as you were still able to spend more time with Bucky.

He pulled you closer to him by your waist, whispering in your ear that caused a shiver to run up your spine, “I’ll take you on a proper date later, just us. Promise.”

fin.

As always, comments and reblogs are appreciated💕

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