#stucky reader insert

[supercap2319]

Y/N: "So, I think Steve and Bucky are gay for each other. Your thoughts, Peter?"

Peter: "Oh, they're definitely 'two bros chilling in a hot tub' coded."

Steve: "Are they really talking about us, Buck?"

Bucky: "They are, Stevie."

[crowsofdarkness]

Steve doesn't like the way the new Avengers recruit keeps looking at what is his.

18+ CW(fingering, slight indication to a threesome, steve being slightly possesive)

"Steve," I harshly whispered to the man next to me.

The man who had two of his fingers buried deep inside of my cunt.

My teeth dragged along my bottom lip, desperately trying to keep the moans at bay since we were in an important Avengers meeting and Stark had already warned Sam, who'd fallen asleep, that the next person caught not paying attention would get the grunt work of the next mission.

Steve paid no mind to my squirming, simply kept his attending on Stark, even coming up with ideas for the next mission. Not once did Steve give way what he was doing underneath the table.

To me.

When he spread his two fingers wide inside of me, I nearly choked on air as I continued to try and save face. All I could do was cover my mouth with my hand and make it look like I was paying attention and not about to come apart from Steve's fingers.

He was usually never one for public displays of affection but when he caught the new recruit staring a little too long at my breasts, Steve wanted to remind me who I belonged to.

As if I could ever forget.

His slow strokes became faster now when he felt me clench around his fingers, a sly smirk playing at the corner of his lips. I drank in the sight of how relaxed he looked; the neatly trimmed beard hid the darkness that loomed on his face; the sinister side I only knew of.

I began grinding against the palm of his hand when I felt my body start to lock up, heat spreading from my spine all the way down to my toes. I was so close, my orgasm was just on the brink of release. Steve knew because he pressed his thumb against my clit, drawing sharp circles. My breath was sharper as I nearly fell over onto the table as I let go, muttering my release into my bottom lip. Once he worked me through the aftershocks, Steve discreetly pulled his hand from my skirt to run them over his lips while no one looked, licking away my arousal.

"Are you two love birds done making googily eyes at each other? I need to talk about the new updates to the quin jet," Stark asked, voice laced with annoyance.

Steve abruptly rose from his chair while pulling me with him, his bright eyes pinning the new recruit in his place but spoke directly to Stark.

"Let's pick this up in about one hour. I need to show Agent Y/N something upstairs in the dorms."

"What-?" Before I could finish, Steve tossed me over his shoulder to carry me out of the office we used to hold all of our meetings.

"You're not going to follow them?" Sam's voice asked.

I didn't have to look back to know who he was speaking to.

"Not this time. I'll join the next time," Bucky chuckled with a smirk I didn't doubt.

[sparks-and-smoke]

Hello!

What about an avengers reader and bucky fic where reader dosnt realize they are in an depressive episode but bucky or steve or both ( platonically or romantically) notices.

Haha I just surfaced from a major depressive episode so that's where the inspiration came from.

Also hi!

Hi <3 this one is a little longer because, well I guess I needed it too. Plus fluffy lovey Stucky is my bread and butter. 

Characters/Pairings: Steve Rogers x Reader, Bucky barnes x reader, Stucky (but not really the focus)

Content/Warnings: mental health, depression, anxiety, self care

Author Note: as someone who also struggles with mental health I personally loved this ask. Thank you, and I hope your feeling better sweets. Take care. 

(Bonus note from my editor @voice-of-velhart)

Editor Note: Depression is not an easy thing to make your way out of, but I'm proud of ya'll for pushing through it and I'm glad your here. <3

The brain fog was the thing that set in first. It was hard to fall out of a routine living in the compound. Day in and Day out it was training and meal regimens. Sparring and paperwork. Someone was always around and yet you felt like you were drifting. Going through the motions with little to no reason to do so other than if you didn’t what else would fill your day. No one seemed to notice your lack of enthusiasm, or how your typically attentive nature had been slipping lately. Your reports were still on time and you weren’t pulling your punches in training so you were probably fine… right?

It was burn out or maybe you were feeling under the weather. At least that's what you told them if they asked. And while your friends and team loved you, they were busy people with the literal weight of the world on their shoulders. So who could blame them when they didn’t keep tabs, or at least you thought they didn’t keep tabs. 

Bucky sat in the library trying to find a fantasy book he hadn’t already read. Tony was a brilliant guy but he had horrible taste in written fiction. As he perused, he kept you in his peripheral vision. You stared down at your now cold cup of coffee looking lost even though you weren’t moving. He had noticed you are like this a lot the last few weeks. You shower less and less, your normally shiny maintained hair more often than not on the greasy and dull side of the spectrum. And he hadn’t seen you touch the piano or your switch in days. He was getting concerned. 

He taps Steve with his foot. “What?” 

The big guy had been deep in thought, sprawled out in a lounge chair with his nose in a tablet. “Have you noticed Angel is different lately?” 

Steve glanced up, taking a look at their girl as she swirled the coffee in her mug, totally disassociating. “Yeah, she said she was under the weather. I tried to get it out of her what was wrong but she’s being cagey.” his brows knit together in a mask of concern. “Sure is lingering a long time to be just a bug, don't cha think?”

Bucky nodded, “Yeah I do… what are we gonna do about it.” 

Steve sighed heavily and set down his tablet, giving the issue his full attention. He thinks back to those long cold winters in brooklyn. When the snow was deep and his bones would ache so bad he didn’t wanna get out of bed. There were always little things that would help him get out of those slumps. Bucky making him get up and shower was always a good start, followed by warm food and if they could find it, sunlight. 

“I think we're gonna start by helping our girl feel human again..” 

~~~~

Steve and Bucky formed a game plan. The two men are nothing if not efficient and tactical. Steve went down stairs to start food. Something starchy and savory. Comfort food. Meanwhile, Bucky started operation Angel Self Care. 

“Angel.” Bucky's voice was soft, wrapped in warm velvet. And you barely registered it before he was crouching down and smoothing back your hair from your face. Taking your untouched cup out of your hand. “How long have you been sitting here, beautiful?” 

You shook your head as if you could wave away the mist behind your eyes. “Oh, I don’t know. Lost track of time I guess.” Bucky just hums. Yeah, he knows that feeling. He also knew it never led anywhere good. 

“Lost in thought?” 

You looked up to meet his gaze, warmth and concern mixing in the set of his jaw and the draw of his brows. “Yeah I guess. I’m fine babe. Don’t worry about it I’m just..”

“Feeling under the weather. Yeah, I know. You’ve been saying that a lot lately. I’m starting to think it’s a cop out.”

It is and you know it but you don’t know what else to say. “I just. I don’t know what wrong with me lately. I just… I don’t wanna do anything. Like anything ya know? It’s like sometimes waking up alone is all I have in me for the day. Do you know how that feels.”

If anyone knew how you felt it was Bucky. Hell sometimes he still felt that way, decades of torture and actions out of his own control had left him with more then his own share of depressive tendencies that drag him deep down under the current of reality pretty regularly. There are days he goes completely nonverbal, only going through the motions on autopilot. The only people who can pull him out are Steve, and you. And therapy, lots of therapy. “Of course I do. You know I do. But Angel, you can’t live there. It’s ok to feel it, but you need to acknowledge it and try to crawl back out. It’s ok if you can’t do it alone baby.”

You feel a thick lump forming in your throat that you can’t quite swallow down. The urge to argue, to tell him your fine and he’s being overbearing was there. But more then that you knew he was right. Something was wrong, and you couldn’t climb out on your own. But you weren’t ready to say it. Not yet. 

“Come on honey, let’s get you cleaned up and get some food in your belly. That might help a little.” Bucky didn’t wait for you to protest, he slid one arm under your legs and the other around your back and headed up to Steve’s quarters. Not caring in the slightest if teammates or recruits saw. That was a problem for later Bucky. 

~~~~

The big six had full apartments in the upper levels of the compound. Which means he could squirrel you away to Steve’s private bath and get you in the shower. Vetiver and pine, a familiar comforting scent. Gently and quietly he started the shower to an acceptable temperature for you (hot enough to turn your skin the next shade of blush.) and stripped you down to help you in. 

There was nothing sexual about the way he did this. It was all just about loving you. Helping you, as  he guided you into the water and let it wash away your stress. He pulled you back against his chest. “There’s my girl. That feel better Angel?” 

You nod as the smell of Steve’s body wash fills the small space. “Do you mind if I wash you?” 

With your permission he sets about cleaning you up. Slow loving strokes over your body as he pulls you back to lean on his chest. “You know you can talk to us about anything right. Steve and I love you. You’ve been here for us. Let us do the same.” 

“I would tell you… if I knew why I felt this way.” You confess. “If I had some inkling of what I needed to get out to feel better but I don’t.” 

Your voice wavers and it breaks Bucky's heart just a little. He wants to fix it. But he knows he can’t. All he can do is be there for you. “Well, I’m glad you trust me enough to help you.” He tilts your head back. Starting to wash your hair. “We’ll just take it one step at a time till we find ground again. Ok?

~~~~ 

Downstairs Steve fretted over the stove. Sweet potato pierogi and with onions and butter. It was easy, simple even. But it always made him feel better as a kid and the few times he had made it you liked it. He looked up as he heard feet pad down into the kitchen. Hair still damp, but clean. In fresh sweats and Bucky's shirt. 

“Ahh, there you are. Do you feel better?”

“Yeah… a little.” You admit, sitting on a stool across the island. 

Steve rounds the counter to kiss your forehead. “You look better.” He inhaled her skin, the longer scent of his soap and Bucky's touch still there, along with that sweet undertone that was all you. “Smell better too.” He teased. 

You breath out your nose with a half hearted huff. “Thanks.” 

“Always angel. Here. I made you some food. You don’t have to eat it all but at least a few bites would ease my mind. And then maybe we can go up to the room and get you some sun hmm? Would you be ok with that.” Steve slid the colorful pasta across the counter to you with a warm smile. Trying to coax you to follow his lead. 

“Yeah. Sounds good.” You eat mostly in silence. Steve and Bucky don’t push you to talk as you fill your stomach. You know they're worried. But even just these small gestures are helping you feel like maybe there is an end to this malaise. You see Steve smile and kiss Bucky softly in thanks as they wait for you to tell them you're ready. 

They spend the rest of the day trying to get you some sun. Fresh air and movement. 

“We’re gonna do this a little everyday till you start feeling better. And if you need it or feel up to it we can look into talking to a therapist too.” Steve assures. His hand firmly laced through your own. “You are not alone in this. We all feel this way sometimes. But I’m proud of you for trying love.”

A flicker of hope flies in your chest at his words. You aren’t alone, this isn’t forever. And your men are gonna love you through it till you can do it on you own.

[aspenmissing]

I am so stupid and managed to send in my last ask without correcting it. Would you pretty please write that ask but instead of arcane characters do bucky, steve, tony, moonknight (both their reactions🙏) and loki.

I mean it's not like I'd get mad if you wrote the arcane character but yea I definitely get you getting burned out from writing so much for them.

❤️❤️

ᴛʜᴇ ꜱɪʟᴇɴᴛ ᴍᴀʀʀɪᴀɢᴇ

ꜱᴛᴇᴠᴇ | ʙᴜᴄᴋʏ | ꜱᴛᴜᴄᴋʏ | ᴍᴏᴏɴᴋɴɪɢʜᴛ | ᴛᴏɴʏ | ʟᴏᴋɪ || ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ || 7711 ᴡᴏʀᴅꜱ || ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: ᴅɪᴅ (ᴍᴏᴏɴᴋɴɪɢʜᴛ) - ᴡʜɪᴄʜ ɪ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ʟᴀᴄᴋ ᴏꜰ ᴋɴᴏᴡʟᴇᴅɢᴇ ɪɴ

ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛ ᴀɴꜱᴡᴇʀ: ᴍʏ ᴅᴇᴀʀ ᴊᴀᴀɴᴏɴ!! ɢᴇᴛ ꜱᴛʀᴀᴘᴘᴇᴅ ɪɴ, ɪ ᴅᴇᴄɪᴅᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ᴅᴏ ʙᴏᴛʜ (ᴇᴠᴇɴ ᴛʜᴏᴜɢʜ ᴛʜᴇ ᴀʀᴄᴀɴᴇ ᴏɴᴇ ᴡᴀꜱ ᴡʀᴏɴɢ), ʙᴜᴛ ɪ ᴡᴀꜱ ɪɴ ᴀ ᴡʀɪᴛɪɴɢ ᴍᴏᴏᴅ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴏᴜɢʜᴛ 'ᴡʜʏ ɴᴏᴛ'. ᴀʟꜱᴏ, ᴅᴏ ꜰᴏʀɢɪᴠᴇ ᴍᴇ ᴏɴ ᴍᴏᴏɴᴋɴɪɢʜᴛꜱ, ɪ ꜱʟɪɢʜᴛʟʏ ꜱᴛʀᴜɢɢʟᴇᴅ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴡʀɪᴛɪɴɢ ʜɪꜱ ᴘᴇʀꜱᴏɴᴀʟɪᴛʏ ᴄʜᴀɴɢᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ɪ ᴛʜɪɴᴋ ɪ ᴍᴀᴅᴇ ᴛʜᴇᴍ ʜᴀᴘᴘᴇɴ ᴛᴏ Qᴜɪᴄᴋ, ʙᴜᴛ ʀᴇɢᴀʀᴅʟᴇꜱꜱ, ɪ ᴅᴏ ʜᴏᴘᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏ! <3 <3

ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ | ꜱᴛᴇᴠᴇ | ʙᴜᴄᴋʏ | ᴍᴏᴏɴᴋɴɪɢʜᴛ | ᴛᴏɴʏ | ʟᴏᴋɪ

STEVE

Steve Rogers and Y/N had been inseparable ever since they first met on the battlefield. They’d fought side by side, saving the world together, and had always shared an unspoken bond that felt stronger than any words could describe. Over the years, their connection had grown into something deeper, something only they truly understood. It wasn’t just about being teammates—it was about being two halves of a whole.

Y/N was Steve’s right hand, his partner in every mission. They were the strategist, the thinker, the one who kept him grounded while he led the charge. They were often the calm in the storm, the one who saw the bigger picture when Steve’s instinctual drive was to dive headfirst into the fray. They balanced each other perfectly, as though their very souls had been crafted to complement one another. If Steve was the shield, Y/N was the hand that guided it, the brain behind the operation, always one step ahead. Their connection was so seamless it felt as though they were a single entity, a force that no one could break.

Despite the intensity of their bond, their relationship had always remained professional. They had never put a name to it—at least, not out loud. Others often assumed they were married, the way they finished each other’s sentences, the way their eyes met across the room and spoke volumes without the need for words. And Y/N, ever the quick-witted one, was always fast to correct anyone who made such an assumption. They didn’t want to label it. They couldn’t. Not when the unspoken understanding between them was all that mattered.

But today was different.

The Avengers had just returned from a mission, the weight of their latest victory hanging in the air like a faint glow. They had survived another harrowing battle, and now, they were gathered in the briefing room for the usual debriefing. Y/N was standing beside Steve, both of them scanning over the latest intel. Their shoulders were close, but not touching—no need for that when they communicated so effortlessly without physical contact. It was as though their very presence was a conversation.

As the group discussed the mission’s success, Tony, ever the instigator, was the first to break the silence with his usual mischievous grin.

"So, when’s the wedding?" Tony asked, his voice laced with playful sarcasm. "I mean, you two are practically married at this point. Always together, finishing each other’s sentences, always on the same wavelength."

Steve chuckled awkwardly, his cheeks tinged with a faint pink. He opened his mouth to correct Tony, to deflect the attention with a joke or a comment, but before he could speak, Y/N, who had been standing silently beside him, simply smiled and spoke up.

"I think we’re already married in spirit," Y/N said softly, their voice playful but carrying a weight that made it impossible to ignore. Their gaze never left the data on the screen in front of them. It wasn’t a joke, not like the others they’d thrown back at Tony in the past. They said it as if it was an undeniable truth—something they had both known for a long time, but never dared to say aloud.

The room fell silent for a moment, the impact of Y/N’s words settling in like a calm after a storm. Steve’s heart skipped a beat. He was surprised—not by the fact that Y/N had said something so bold, but by the weight of what they’d said. They didn’t correct Tony. They didn’t laugh it off or brush it aside like they usually did. This time, they let the moment hang in the air, unchallenged.

The others exchanged knowing glances. Natasha raised an eyebrow, Clint smirked, and even Bruce looked over with a subtle, thoughtful expression. But it was Steve who spoke next, his voice softer than usual, laced with curiosity, uncertainty, and something else he couldn’t quite place.

"Y/N…" Steve began, his voice trailing off as he looked at them, unsure of what to say. He hadn’t expected this shift. It was different. And, maybe, he realized, that was what they both needed.

Y/N finally turned their head to meet Steve’s gaze, and when their eyes met, it was like a quiet understanding passed between them. No words needed to be spoken. They didn’t need to explain themselves, because Steve already knew. He always had, deep down. Their connection was something far beyond labels. It was something that couldn’t be captured in the words ‘partners,’ ‘friends,’ or even ‘lovers.’ It was something uniquely theirs.

Steve’s expression softened, and a small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. He wasn’t upset. If anything, he felt a sense of relief. For once, Y/N had allowed their bond to be known, without deflecting it, without pretending it was anything less than what it was.

Tony, sensing the shift in the atmosphere, raised his hands in mock surrender. "Alright, alright, no need to get all mushy on me," he teased, though his tone was laced more with amusement than anything else.

But Steve couldn’t help it. His heart swelled. Maybe Y/N was right. Maybe, in every sense that mattered, they were already married—connected, not just in battle, but in life. They had fought for the world together, but more than that, they had fought for each other. And in that moment, Steve realized that their bond wasn’t something that needed to be explained to anyone else. It just was.

The moment passed, the conversation drifting to other matters, but Steve couldn’t shake the feeling of something shifting inside him. A realization was dawning on him, one that had been lingering beneath the surface for far longer than he cared to admit. Maybe it was time they stopped denying the depth of what they shared. Maybe it wasn’t just about being right-hand and left-hand anymore. Maybe it was something more.

=

As the team began to break apart, Steve lingered behind, waiting for Y/N to finish up with the mission notes. The room slowly emptied, but Steve remained, not wanting to let the moment go just yet.

When they were alone, the silence between them was different. It was heavier, filled with the weight of everything they hadn’t said. Finally, Steve spoke, his voice low and thoughtful.

"Y/N," Steve said, his hand reaching out to gently rest on theirs. The simple touch sent a wave of warmth through him. "You know that was… different, right?"

Y/N looked up at him, their gaze meeting his with that same quiet understanding they had always shared. There was no need for words to explain it—everything was already laid bare between them, everything that needed to be understood had already been understood. This time, they didn’t correct him. Instead, they smiled softly, the kind of smile that said everything Steve needed to hear.

"Yeah, Steve," Y/N replied, their voice full of unspoken affection, "I think I do."

Steve’s heart fluttered at the words. For a moment, he was speechless. He couldn’t remember the last time he had felt so vulnerable, so open. The truth had always been there, but it had taken this moment—Y/N’s simple words—to bring it fully to the surface.

Y/N’s eyes never left his, and Steve could feel the pull between them, a magnetic connection that neither of them could deny any longer. He swallowed hard, trying to gather his thoughts, but the words still didn’t come.

"You know," Steve said after a beat, his voice a little rougher now, "I’ve always known, you know? About us." He shifted, taking a small step closer. "I guess I just… didn’t know how to say it."

Y/N let out a quiet laugh, the sound warm and genuine. "Steve, you don’t have to say anything. We’ve always known, haven’t we?"

For once, Steve didn’t argue. He didn’t try to push back. He simply nodded, his hand still resting on theirs, fingers gently brushing over their skin. The silence that followed was comfortable, filled with everything they had been too afraid to put into words before.

"You’re right," Steve finally said, his voice softer, but more certain than ever. "We always have."

And in that quiet moment, Steve realized that the bond they shared was enough. It always had been. And maybe that was the way it was always meant to be.

BUCKY

James Buchanan "Bucky" Barnes was many things: a soldier, a friend, a complicated man with a past full of shadows.

But to you, he was also something else—someone you couldn't imagine life without. From the moment you had been paired together, it had been as though fate had woven your lives together, one thread at a time. You were his right hand, his left brain, his balance. Wherever Bucky went, you were right there beside him. Whether in the heat of a mission or the quiet moments in between, you were always there, completing him in a way that no one else could.

It had taken some getting used to, the two of you always in sync, always working together. At first, it felt like you were trying to figure out how to best fit into each other’s lives. But over time, you’d learned how perfectly you worked together. You could anticipate his moves before he made them, just as he seemed to know yours. You could finish each other’s sentences, pull off complicated plans with ease, and calm each other’s nerves without a word. You were his anchor, and he was yours.

And it didn’t hurt that Bucky had a way of looking at you that made everything feel just a little more right, even when the world around you was falling apart.

People had noticed, of course. It was only natural for them to assume that you and Bucky were a couple. The way you complemented each other, the way you moved as a unit, made it seem like there was no one else who could possibly take your place. You were always by his side, whether on a mission or at the compound. You worked together seamlessly—more like partners than anything else.

Normally, when people commented on your closeness, you were quick to correct them. You’d laugh it off with a quick “we’re not married” or a wink, making it clear that, while you and Bucky were incredibly close, the title of marriage didn’t quite fit. But today, for some reason, you didn’t correct them. You weren’t sure why, but you didn’t feel the need to.

=

It was a quiet moment in the common room of the compound, the soft hum of the air conditioning blending with the fading sunlight outside. You and Bucky were sitting side by side, poring over the details of an upcoming mission. The tension from the mission was light, just enough to keep your minds sharp, but otherwise, it was an easy rhythm between you both. Your voices were low as you discussed the mission, your conversation punctuated by glances, hand gestures, and quiet chuckles.

The door opened, and Steve and Sam walked in, exchanging a look as they noticed the easy atmosphere between the two of you. Sam couldn’t resist the opportunity for some light-hearted teasing.

“So, when’s the wedding?” he asked, a playful smirk tugging at his lips as he leaned against the doorframe.

You froze, your words halting as you glanced over at Bucky, your mind instantly on alert. Normally, you would’ve jumped in with a quick correction, a gentle reminder that you weren’t married. But today… you didn’t. Instead, you let the words hang in the air, unspoken.

Bucky’s eyes flicked toward you. He didn’t move at first, simply letting his hand rest on the arm of the couch. There was a moment of hesitation, almost like he was waiting for you to react. His face, usually so controlled, softened just slightly as his gaze lingered on you, as though asking if you would correct them.

But you didn’t.

Instead, you gave him a small, nonchalant shrug, your lips curving into a faint smile, and his eyes softened further, the smallest smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. It wasn’t that you didn’t care, it was just that, in that moment, it didn’t matter.

Sam’s grin widened, clearly seeing the tension in the air. “Wait a second. You two aren’t married?”

Steve glanced between the two of you, a knowing look crossing his face. He raised an eyebrow. “You sure about that? Because you two look like an old married couple.”

You couldn’t help the playful smirk that tugged at your lips as you glanced at Steve. You leaned back slightly, crossing your arms over your chest with a knowing look. “Old married couple?” you repeated, raising an eyebrow. “Steve, you’re the one who’s over a century old. Maybe you should be the one talking about being ‘old.’”

Sam snickered, clearly enjoying your jab, while Steve shot you a mock glare. The twinkle in his eyes, however, betrayed the humour he found in your comment. “Alright, alright,” he said, throwing his hands up in mock surrender. “I’ll give you that one. But seriously, you two are inseparable. It’s like watching a married couple bicker without the commitment.”

You laughed softly, feeling a warm comfort in the back-and-forth. But you didn’t correct them. What Steve didn’t know—and what didn’t need to be said—was that you and Bucky didn’t need to define your connection. It was perfect as it was, no matter what anyone thought.

Bucky gave a low chuckle, eyes still on you, his lips curling into a playful grin. “Guess that makes me the grumpy old husband,” he teased.

You raised an eyebrow, your smile softening as you shook your head. “Yeah, well, I wouldn’t have it any other way, grumpy old man.”

Sam raised an eyebrow at Bucky’s response. “Well, you guys are definitely something,” he said, glancing back and forth between the two of you, clearly sensing the unspoken bond.

You met Bucky’s eyes for a long moment, and for the first time, you didn’t feel the need to correct them. You didn’t need a title or a label to define what you were. What you had with Bucky was enough. It was perfect just the way it was.

Bucky’s expression softened, his eyes tender as they met yours. Slowly, his hand moved from the armrest to rest lightly on your knee, a simple, quiet gesture that spoke volumes. You didn’t need to say anything. He understood. No words were needed.

=

Steve and Sam eventually moved on, but Bucky remained still, his hand on your knee, his gaze lingering on you. The quiet felt sacred—like the two of you were the only ones who truly understood what was between you. Then, when the others were far enough away, Bucky leaned in slightly, his voice low and just for you.

“You know,” he murmured, “I’m okay with it. If they think we’re married.”

You blinked at him, caught off guard for a moment. Then, a soft laugh escaped your lips, the warmth in your chest undeniable. “Yeah, me too,” you replied, voice quiet but sincere.

Bucky tilted his head slightly, his eyes studying you, the tenderness never fading. “You sure about that?”

You nodded, smiling gently. “Yeah. I’m sure.”

And in that moment, you realized something important: despite the teasing and the questions from others, it didn’t matter whether you had a title or not. What mattered was that you were together, perfectly matched, right hand and left brain, now and always. You didn’t need anything else.

Bucky’s smile deepened as he leaned back into the couch, hand still resting on your knee. He didn’t need to say anything more. Neither of you did. The silence between you felt comfortable, knowing, and full of understanding. It was everything.

STUCKY

Y/N had always been the glue that held the trio together. Whether it was during intense missions, late-night strategy sessions, or just mundane days spent at the compound, they were never far from Steve and Bucky. The three of them had been inseparable since that first mission together. In the eyes of the world, they were a team—no, more than a team, they were family. But there was something else, something that everyone seemed to pick up on. Their chemistry was undeniable, so much so that everyone assumed they were all married, or at least in some kind of romantic relationship.

It was a regular mission debriefing when it happened. The room was filled with members of the Avengers, a quiet murmur running through the air. Y/N was leaning against the table, half-listening to Steve’s deep voice as he outlined their next mission. Bucky stood next to Y/N, his hand resting casually on their shoulder, their bodies almost fitting into each other like puzzle pieces. They moved together with an ease that was both professional and intimate.

“So, when do you two get married?” Tony Stark’s voice cut through the air, as his eyes flicked between Bucky, Y/N, and Steve. “It’s been long enough, right?”

Steve choked slightly on his coffee, and Bucky’s hand immediately slid off Y/N’s shoulder, though his eyes didn’t leave them. The room fell into an awkward silence, everyone waiting for Y/N to correct the assumption, as they always did.

But this time… Y/N didn’t say a word. Instead, they simply exchanged a look with Steve and Bucky.

Steve froze. His mouth opened and closed a few times, unsure of what to say. His blue eyes flickered between Y/N’s face and Bucky’s, confusion mixed with something deeper. It wasn’t anger—just surprise. “Y/N?” he asked softly, his voice barely above a whisper. “You’re not going to correct him?”

Bucky, on the other hand, seemed to stiffen next to them, his gaze intense, his features unreadable. He didn’t say anything either, but the way his jaw clenched and his brow furrowed showed his discomfort. He was used to Y/N setting the record straight immediately, but now… now something had shifted.

Y/N just shrugged nonchalantly, their eyes flicking around the room, before looking back at Steve and Bucky. “I don’t know,” they said, their voice smooth, almost playful. “What if we were married? It’s not like it’d change anything.”

Bucky’s chest tightened at the implication, his mind racing with a thousand thoughts. Was Y/N trying to push some boundaries? Were they trying to tease them? Or was there something else going on that he wasn’t picking up on? His fingers flexed, itching to reach out and hold them again, but he stayed still, waiting for Steve’s reaction.

Steve blinked, processing the words. His lips curved into a small, unsure smile, though his gaze lingered on Y/N longer than necessary. “I mean…” He looked at Bucky. “I think I’d be okay with that.”

Bucky narrowed his eyes, turning to Steve. “You sure about that?” he asked, his voice low but steady, as if testing the waters.

Steve chuckled softly, trying to ease the tension. “Well, we make it look pretty good.” He threw a glance at Tony. “I think we might be getting ahead of ourselves, though.”

“Yeah, but the way you three are always together?” Tony’s smirk grew wider. “It’s the way you’re always looking at each other, like you can’t get enough of one another.”

Y/N gave a slight, nonchalant shrug. “It’s nothing to make a big deal out of. We’re just really good at working together. You know, complementing each other.”

It was clear to everyone in the room that something deeper was going on, but Y/N wasn’t offering any answers today. Steve and Bucky shared a look, both trying to figure out what had changed, but neither spoke their thoughts aloud.

Bucky cleared his throat. “I guess it’s not that important right now.”

Steve nodded slowly, his gaze never leaving Y/N. There was a flicker of something—longing, uncertainty, a question he didn’t have the courage to ask. “Maybe not. But it’s hard to ignore.”

Y/N’s eyes softened, and for a moment, it felt like the world around them had quieted, the noise fading away. They gave Bucky and Steve a small smile, one that seemed to say everything without words.

Maybe, just this once, the assumption was right.

=

In the aftermath, as the meeting broke up, Steve and Bucky lingered in the hallway, still thinking about what had just transpired. Neither one of them knew what to make of it, but there was no denying the weight of the unspoken words hanging between them.

The sounds of footsteps echoed around the compound, and both Steve and Bucky found themselves walking in a slow, purposeful silence. Steve, ever the leader, tried to break the tension with a question.

"So..." He trailed off, glancing at Bucky. "What do you think?"

Bucky’s hands were shoved into his pockets, his expression unreadable, but his mind was working at full speed. “I don’t know. I’ve never seen them act like this before.”

Steve rubbed the back of his neck, still unsure of his own feelings. “Yeah, me neither.” He paused, stealing another glance at Bucky. "But it's not like we haven't been thinking about it... I mean, not just today. It's been... building for a while now, right?"

Bucky's jaw clenched, and he let out a short, frustrated sigh. "I don't like how this feels, Steve. It feels like we're… I don’t know, leaving things unsaid."

Steve nodded, his tone turning more serious. "Yeah. I get it. It’s like Y/N is testing us, pushing us to see how far we’ll go, or maybe they’re waiting for us to make the first move."

Bucky’s expression softened a little as he glanced sideways at Steve. “You think we should?”

Steve’s gaze was steady, his blue eyes searching for something in the moment. “I don’t know, Buck. I don’t want to mess things up with them. With either of you.”

Bucky chuckled softly, shaking his head. “Same here.”

They stood there for a moment, the air between them heavy with possibilities, their silence louder than any words could have been.

Finally, Bucky broke the quiet, his voice low but with a hint of humour. "I think we’ve been dancing around this for too long, don’t you?"

Steve didn’t answer right away, but his lips twitched into a smile, and he let out a short, quiet laugh. "I guess so."

As they continued down the hallway, neither of them had the answers, but one thing was certain—whatever they decided, whatever direction this took them, they were in it together.

And for once, they didn’t need to rush to figure it out.

The days that followed were quiet but charged with anticipation. The trio still worked together, still laughed together, but the dynamic had shifted. There was a tension in the air that hadn’t been there before. Y/N noticed it immediately. There was an unspoken weight between Steve and Bucky that hadn’t been there the day before. It was like they were both holding their breath, waiting for something—waiting for Y/N to make the next move.

At the same time, Y/N found themselves becoming more aware of the subtle way Steve and Bucky looked at them, their touches lingering a little longer, their glances more intense. It was like they were all caught in a game they didn’t know the rules to, and yet, they were all playing it together.

=

One evening, after a long day of training and strategizing, the three of them found themselves in the lounge, a rare moment of downtime. Y/N was lounging on the couch, flipping through a book, when Steve and Bucky appeared at the door. They both paused for a moment, exchanging a quick look before stepping inside.

“You want some company?” Steve asked, his voice casual, but there was an edge to it. Something in his tone made Y/N sit up straighter, their heart beating a little faster.

Bucky leaned against the doorframe, his arms crossed. “We were thinking... maybe we should talk.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, closing their book. “Talk about what?”

“About everything,” Bucky said simply. “About us.”

Steve glanced at Bucky, then back at Y/N. “About... what we didn’t say earlier.”

Y/N felt a knot form in their stomach. It was finally happening. The conversation they had been avoiding, the one they knew would come sooner or later. The question was—were they ready to face it? Were they ready to stop dancing around the truth?

Y/N met both their gazes, the air thick with unspoken words. “Alright,” they said, voice steady but their mind racing. “Let’s talk.”

TONY

Tony Stark’s eyes flickered over the headline in the morning paper.

"Stark and Y/N: Power Duo or Power Couple?"

The photo accompanying it was one of you and him walking out of one of his private meetings, side by side, both of you dressed in suits that practically screamed 'we own this city.' You were laughing at something he said, and he was looking at you like the world had stopped spinning just for that moment. The chemistry between you two was palpable, even in still images.

He snorted, holding the paper up to his face and waggling it in front of you, a smug grin plastered on his face. "Well, looks like we’ve made it. The world thinks we’re officially married now. I’m touched. Honestly, it’s a good look. I could get used to the headlines."

You, who had been working on an equation for a new tech prototype, didn’t even look up. You heard the sarcastic tone, but you were deep in thought—nothing new. You were often the one to correct people when they assumed you and Tony were a couple, mostly because the line between work and personal had always been blurry when you two were together. There was no distinction between "partner in business" and "partner in life" for the two of you. People always jumped to conclusions about your relationship. It wasn’t your fault. You just clicked, in every sense of the word.

"Tony," you said absently, adjusting your glasses and scribbling a new set of numbers. "You know we’re not married, right?"

Tony grinned, dropping the paper and leaning back in his chair, spinning it slightly as he watched you. "Well, that’s the thing, isn't it? We are married—in the sense that you and I are practically conjoined twins when it comes to running this whole operation. Hell, you’re probably the only one who can keep up with me. Maybe it’s time we start accepting it."

You sighed, rolling your shoulders back before finally looking up at him. "Yeah, but people will think we are. You’re not going to let them run with that idea, are you?"

Tony paused. His expression softened just a bit, but the cocky grin didn’t quite leave. It was replaced by something more contemplative—still playful, but with a deeper edge. "Oh, I don’t know. Maybe it's about time the world knew how well we work together... in every way."

Your brow furrowed at his tone, unsure of where this was going. "What do you mean?"

Instead of answering directly, Tony raised the paper again and pointed to a particular sentence: "Close personal relationships between Stark and Y/N have always been under the radar. Sources say the duo is inseparable, with speculation about a much deeper connection than just business partners." He lowered the paper and looked at you with that familiar smirk.

You stared at it for a moment, your face unreadable, then shrugged. "I mean... we are inseparable. It's true, but that doesn’t mean—"

Tony cut you off with a smile, his usual playful spark flickering in his eyes. "Yeah, but maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. I think it’s cute they’re so invested in our 'relationship.' I mean, how many people can say they have a 'right hand' like you?" He leaned forward, lowering his voice slightly, his tone teasing but not entirely lighthearted. "Maybe they just don’t understand how perfectly we complement each other. Hell, maybe I’m just tired of having to tell people you're not my wife every time they make that assumption."

You frowned, deciding to just let the whole thing slide for once. You hadn't expected Tony to bring it up like that, but his words made you pause. It was always you and him, always working side by side, tackling problems from every angle. You knew how much he depended on you, how much you relied on him. Maybe it was time to stop fighting the idea.

"Alright, fine. Let them think what they want," you said with a small shrug. You shifted in your seat, leaning back slightly as if to signal the conversation was over. You didn’t want to get caught up in something so trivial. There were bigger things to focus on.

Tony raised an eyebrow, intrigued by your sudden lack of rebuttal. "Wait—hold up. You're giving up that easily? You're not going to correct them this time?"

You gave him a deadpan look, not bothering to hide your exhaustion. "It’s a busy day, Tony. The world can think whatever they want." You returned to your work, hands flying over the keyboard and tablet in front of you.

For a moment, Tony stared at you, a little surprised by your uncharacteristic lack of correction. Then, a soft smile tugged at the corner of his lips. It wasn't one of his usual smirks or playful grins; it was something more... genuine, warmer. A look that lingered for a moment too long. Something unspoken passed between you two—something more than just partnership.

He placed the newspaper down and pushed it aside, leaning back in his chair and folding his arms across his chest. "I guess you’re right. Who needs the press to tell us what we already know, huh?" He sighed, as though coming to terms with something, a little smile still tugging at his lips. "I can’t deny it though. You and me? We’re a hell of a team."

You didn’t say anything. Instead, you felt that familiar weight of his gaze on you. It was comforting, yet there was something a little unsettling about it this time—like he was seeing you in a way he hadn’t before. For once, neither of you felt the need to clarify anything. Maybe you didn’t have to. After all, you knew what you had, and so did he.

Tony tilted his head, just a little, as if testing the waters. "What I’m saying is—if we were a thing, I’d probably get a whole lot of attention. I’m talking movie deals, book deals—maybe even a reality show. You'd love that."

You let out a small laugh, the tension easing between you two. "Yeah, sure. We could call it Partners in Crime."

Tony shot you a look. "I like that. I think it's got legs."

Your smirk mirrored his, and for the first time in a long while, neither of you felt the need to correct the narrative. The world could think whatever it wanted—because what you had went beyond labels, beyond definitions. You were a team, in every sense of the word. No one had to understand it except for the two of you.

But maybe, just maybe, the world was onto something with that "power couple" business.

And Tony... well, he liked the idea more than he let on.

MOONKNIGHT (ALL 3)

It had become a routine.

You’d swing by the museum on your off days, usually bearing coffee or some odd snack Steven had been obsessing over that week. Turkish delights. Jaffa Cakes. One time, he’d mentioned Egyptian honeycakes offhandedly in the middle of a tangent about burial rituals, and you’d spent the whole weekend perfecting a recipe just to see the way his entire face lit up when you handed him the tin. He’d looked at you like you’d brought him treasure pulled straight from a tomb.

It wasn’t official, any of it. Not your presence. Not your role. Not even the dynamic between the four of you. You weren’t listed on any museum roster, and yet most of the staff had assumed you worked there at some point. That’s how often you were around. Always flitting between the break room and the gift shop, trailing behind Steven during lunch, slipping into quiet corners with Marc when the lights went low, waiting in parked cars with Jake in the late hours after the museum closed.

You were Steven’s right hand. Marc’s backup. Jake’s trusted secret. And somehow—despite all of that—never just a friend.

Even Donna had noticed.

Especially Donna.

So when you step into the gift shop today, two warm lattes in hand and your coat still speckled with spring rain, it’s no surprise that she clocks you the moment you walk in. Her eyes flick up from the register with laser precision. Her smirk forms before she even says a word.

Steven doesn’t notice right away. He’s knee-deep in a battle against gravity and a particularly rebellious tower of scarab keychains—the cheap kind that never sell, but Donna stocks religiously like they’re museum relics. His brows are furrowed in concentration, tongue peeking slightly between his lips as he tries to wedge one more into the crooked stack without toppling it.

And then he sees you.

His whole expression transforms in an instant—like someone hit a switch. The anxious fog behind his eyes clears, the corners of his mouth lift, and something warm and open rushes into his face. His posture loosens, shoulders dropping with visible relief.

“You’re a lifesaver,” he breathes, stepping forward like you’re gravity itself, like you’ve pulled him into orbit.

He reaches for the coffee before you’ve even fully held it out. Your fingers brush his—just for a second longer than they need to—and something sparks in the space between you. Not literal, not cinematic. But real. Tactile. A quiet buzz under your skin that feels a little too intimate for something so casual.

“You say that every time,” you tease, your voice soft with fondness.

“Yeah, well. Still true every time,” he murmurs, casting a shy glance your way before sipping gratefully.

You smile, watching him relax around the first mouthful like he’s just been handed peace in a paper cup.

And then, right on cue, Donna calls out from the front counter—arms folded, tone smug as ever. “Well, if it isn’t Mrs. Grant. Come to rescue your husband again, have you?”

Steven freezes.

His eyes flick to yours, wide and blinking. You’ve both heard it before. Variations of the same joke. Donna’s favorite little jab. Usually, you roll your eyes. Laugh. Say the line like it’s part of the script.

We’re not married, Donna.

But today…

You don’t.

You take a deliberate sip of your drink. Let the silence stretch. Let it hang between you like tension pulled tight on a string. Then you shrug—easy, unbothered—and smile.

A small one. But telling.

Steven is staring. Absolutely stunned. His mouth hangs open like he forgot how to close it. You can practically see the error message flashing behind his eyes. Donna, meanwhile, blinks. Then cackles.

“About bloody time you two admitted it,” she mutters, ducking behind the register and vanishing with a rustle of receipts and bubble wrap.

What’s left behind is silence. Thick and tangled.

You glance at Steven again. His face is still frozen, but you see it—just a flicker. The tiniest shift in the way he holds his weight. Not outward. Inward.

You know that shift.

Marc.

You’ve never seen the changes in a mirror. Never needed to. It’s in the way they carry themselves. In the silence between one breath and the next. Marc is stillness where Steven flutters. A quiet density that settles into the room like pressure before a storm.

“You’re messing with us,” Marc says, his voice lower now—more grounded, laced with suspicion. There’s a guarded edge to it, like he’s circling the perimeter of something he’s afraid to want. “That what this is?”

You tilt your head slightly. Not backing off. “Am I?”

His gaze sharpens. Marc doesn’t just look at you. He studies you. Like he’s waiting for a tell that doesn’t come. You feel it in your chest—the way he’s bracing himself. Ready to be disappointed. Ready to dismiss it all as a joke or misunderstanding.

But then something shifts again.

You don’t see it. Not exactly. But you feel it, the way the air changes. Cooler. Calmer. Like a slow tide slipping in under the surface of things. A quiet control that curls at the edge of your awareness.

Jake.

You don’t hear him like a voice in your ear, but he’s there. Present in the way Marc’s sharp tension fades into something looser, more confident. In the way your skin prickles with anticipation, like you’re being watched by something careful and amused.

“Careful, cariño,” Jake murmurs in the back of your mind, smooth and velvet-soft, brushing against your thoughts like a gloved hand on bare skin. “We might take that seriously.” (Love)

Your lips curl into a smile before you can stop them.

“I’m not messing with you,” you say at last—quiet, but sure. Unshaken. You turn your attention back to Steven—because you know it’s Steven now, feel it in the nervous flutter of his hands and the way his eyes dart to yours like they’re afraid of what they might find there.

“You’re not?” he asks, voice tight, uncertain.

“I’m not.”

And suddenly, the stillness in the gift shop feels sacred. Like the whole world just took a breath and held it.

Steven looks down at your hand again—at where your fingers had brushed his earlier. He stares like it’s new. Like it means more now. Because it does.

You don’t rush to fill the silence. You let them—all of them—sit with it.

You know they’re talking in there. You can feel it. Quiet conversations in the corners of a shared space. Thoughts layered over thoughts, like echoes in a cathedral. You can’t hear the words, but you sense the shift.

Then Steven clears his throat. It cracks halfway through like a boy trying too hard to sound smooth, and you bite back a laugh.

“…Well,” he says, trying and failing to sound casual, “I suppose we’ll need to plan the honeymoon, yeah?”

You bump his shoulder with yours, grin blooming wider. “Only if it involves not organizing another scarab display.”

That gets him. A laugh bubbles out—relieved, genuine. And it’s not just Steven anymore. You hear the flicker of Marc’s low, reluctant chuckle beneath it. The deeper sound of Jake’s amusement, warm and unspoken.

For just a heartbeat, everything aligns. Like the world settles. Like you all belong—right here, right now.

Exactly as you are.

LOKI

The conference room on the Helicarrier was uncomfortably bright. Stark had insisted on LED renovations — something about reducing eye strain for the “lesser geniuses” who couldn’t handle prolonged screen time. It only made Loki’s headache worse.

He sat at the long metal table, gleaming under the synthetic lights, dressed in his usual sharp green and gold, fingers steepled under his chin in that calculating way that always spelled doom for whoever spoke next. His jaw was tense, his expression unreadable save for the faint twitch of an eyebrow every time someone said something particularly stupid — which, unfortunately, was often.

Beside him, you were the picture of calm efficiency. Eyes flicking across a folder of debrief summaries, pen tapping against your lips in time with the rhythmic bounce of Loki’s foot beneath the table. It was unconscious, the synchronicity between you. Like a song only the two of you could hear.

You were his right hand. His second brain. His strategist, his handler, his first and last sounding board. If Loki was all sharp edges and wicked smirks, you were clean lines and quiet precision. Where he wielded chaos like a weapon, you crafted control like armor.

And everyone knew it.

It wasn’t uncommon for people to assume you were together — romantically, domestically, secretly. The way you moved in step, answered questions he hadn’t spoken aloud, the way he leaned in when you whispered something only for him to nod once and completely pivot strategy without question. There was an intimacy to it. An ease.

So when Maria Hill strode in briskly, dark eyes scanning the room, and said without fanfare, “Do you and your spouse have anything to add, Loki?” — the room didn’t even blink. No one laughed. No one corrected. It was almost routine by now.

Usually, you would. Immediately. With a dry, “We’re not married,” or a breezy, “Just partners — professionally.” You’d always been quick to define the boundary, quick to draw the line before someone else drew it for you.

But this time?

You stayed silent. You raised your eyes from the folder — briefly, steadily — and met Loki’s gaze.

He had turned his head slowly, sharply, like something had snapped into place behind his eyes. Green met yours, narrowed slightly. Waiting. Calculating. And then, as if nothing had happened, you looked away again and flipped to the next page. Loki blinked.

Once.

Twice.

The silence stretched. Stark cleared his throat. Natasha raised an eyebrow. Somewhere across the room, Bruce gave you a confused side-glance, as if you’d forgotten a line in a well-rehearsed script.

Then, softly — almost curiously — Loki leaned in and murmured, “No corrections today?”

You didn’t look at him. “Seemed like a waste of energy.”

A beat. He tilted his head, watching you with the unnerving attentiveness of a predator smelling a shift in the wind.

“Ah,” he said. “Does that mean you’re finally admitting the truth?”

You raised an eyebrow but kept reading. “What truth is that?”

“That we function as one,” Loki said, as if stating a universal constant. “That you complete my sentences, counter my moods, sharpen my plans, and soften my rage. That we are, to everyone with eyes, the picture of unity. Undeniable. Inseparable.”

Now you did look at him. Slowly. Deadpan. “I didn’t say all that.”

“But you didn’t say not that,” he replied smoothly, and his smirk was unmistakable now — amused, delighted, but laced with something else. Something heavier. “Fascinating.”

You narrowed your eyes slightly. “What is?”

“That I find myself… pleased by your silence.”

“Because you enjoy being right?”

“No,” he said, and the tone shifted. Softer. Lower. Real. “Because it means I might not be the only one who wants them to keep assuming.”

The air thickened. Your pen stopped tapping.

You stared at him — really stared — and for a moment, everything else in the room seemed to fall away. The murmuring agents, the flicker of the screen, the dull hum of machinery behind the walls. None of it mattered.

“…Loki,” you murmured, mouth dry, “are you flirting with me during a debrief?”

He didn’t flinch. If anything, he leaned closer, voice a velvet purr meant only for you. “No, darling. I’m proposing.”

Your breath hitched.

You choked.

Across the table, Stark muttered, “Jesus Christ, just kiss already.” Natasha snorted. Bruce was too afraid to look up.

And then, as if on cue, Thor’s booming voice entered the scene, shaking the air as he strolled into the room with his usual easy confidence. He had clearly just finished with another one of his ‘heroic duties,’ his cape sweeping behind him in grand fashion. As he caught sight of the two of you, his face split into a grin.

“Aha!” Thor boomed, his voice filling the room. “I knew it! Well done, my dear brother!” He slapped a heavy hand on his brother’s back with enough force to make the chair creak.

Loki winced slightly, not from the slap but from the sheer volume. Still, he didn’t move from your side, even as his older brother all but towered over the table, eyes sparkling with mischief.

“You finally put a ring on it, eh?” Thor continued, a gleam in his eye as he turned to you. “I always thought you two were too inseparable to just be ‘partners.’”

The room went still. Stark, still reeling from his own comment, looked at the two of you in a mix of disbelief and awe.

Loki didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he tilted his head, eyes locked with yours once more — no trace of discomfort, only that familiar spark of something deeper. His lips twitched into a small, private smile.

“Seems they already assume we’re married, brother,” Loki said smoothly, addressing Thor, but his gaze never left you.

“Hmm,” Thor mused, scratching his chin. “Well, I do believe that means congratulations are in order.” He raised his mug of ale, as if toasting to something grand, his grin widening. “Finally, Loki, you’ve found someone who can match your brilliance.”

You raised an eyebrow, your lips curling slightly. “And who says I’m matching him, Thor? It might be the other way around.”

Loki’s smirk deepened as he raised an eyebrow in mock affront. “What’s that, darling? Have I been upstaged by my own right hand?”

You chuckled softly, turning to him with a look that was both teasing and warm. “Oh, Loki, you know better than anyone that we’re the perfect balance.”

Thor clapped Loki on the back again, a booming laugh filling the air. “Ah, partner banter! I shall leave you two to your plans, but know this, Loki — I support this union fully.” He paused, looking back over his shoulder. “Just don’t make it too official before I get to witness the wedding!”

As Thor left the room, Tony turned to you both with a smirk. “Well, that was a show.”

Loki shot a glance at you, that unspoken communication between you two louder than anything he could say. A brief moment of pure amusement flickered in his eyes before he straightened his posture and addressed the room again.

“Let them assume,” Loki said, voice cool but with a subtle warmth at its edges. “For once, they might be right.”

And you, for once, didn’t argue. You only smiled — slow, warm, and undeniably dangerous. Let them assume.

They wouldn’t be wrong.

[lesbojournals]

Without Me?! (Stucky x Reader)

You woke up with a groan at the pain your body was feeling all over. The hickies on your neck burned, your lips hurt, your head was pounding, and god your legs felt like jello. You rubbed at your eyes and opened them, wincing at the bright light filling the room. You groaned again, this time much louder, as you shut your eyes.

You heard a snicker and immediately turned to glare at who was making it, unsurprised that it was Bucky.

He gave you a smile. “Feeling peachy this morning?”

You gave him a playful slap and turned around, groaning again. “Remind me to never have drunk sex with either of you again.”

That got Steve to perk up. “What’d I do?!”

You turned back around to face the two of them and motioned to your physically inept body. “This!! How am I supposed to get anything done today.”

Two answers popped up immediately– “With the tylenol on the nightstand.” sarcastically coming from Bucky and “You don’t need to do anything, we’ll do it for you.” coming from Steve.

You glared at Bucky and glanced back at Steve. Bucky was particularly energetic this morning, almost glowing. Steve was acting wholesome, gently tickling Bucky’s chest.

Then it clicked. “You two had morning sex without me!!”

Bucky turned to Steve. “See? I told you she’d figure it out.”

That irritated you even more. “You were gonna keep it a secret from me??!”

Steve rushed to grab your hand from behind Bucky, looking frantic. “No!! No, Bucky just wanted to see how long it would take for you to figure it out, sweetheart.”

Bucky smirked. “Barely took you five minutes.”

That earned a smack with a pillow to Bucky’s face, unfortunately getting Steve’s face as well in the crossfire. 

“Hey!! You were asleep! Very deeply, for that matter!! We didn’t want to disturb you, and we knew you’d be sore from last night.” Bucky defended, grabbing the pillow from you.

You “hmph’ed” at Bucky and turned around, deciding that you were done listening to the two of them for the morning.

Bucky scooted closer to you and grabbed you from behind, giving you slow and tender kisses up your neck. “Come on…you know you love us.”

You were already starting to calm down at Bucky’s touch–but you stayed silent, not wanting to prove any point. Steve got up from bed and walked over to your side, looking down at you. 

“Pancakes?” He asked, crossing his arms (which showed off his beautiful muscles). 

You scooched back into Bucky’s chest and nodded at Steve. “Yes please.”

He leaned down and gave you a small kiss, making you smile up at him. “Anything you want, beautiful.”

Steve left the room, throwing on a shirt before doing so. Bucky hummed and started to play with your hair, giving the top of your head small kisses in between. You sighed happily before your head pounded again.

“Ugh,” You groaned. “My head.”

“Take some tylenol, love.” Bucky whispered softly. “It’s on the bedside table.”

You listened to him and did so, letting yourself flop back into Bucky’s embrace after greedily drinking all the water out of your water bottle. Steve soon came in with your pancakes, letting you eat them in bed for once. Bucky brushed through your hair as Steve surfed through the TV to find something for all of you to watch and you smiled to yourself. 

Maybe they weren’t so bad after all. 

[animelovelover123]

Marvel Master List

A list and links to all of my Marvel fanfiction works, from 2014 to present. This includes stuff I posted on other sites, not just on Tumblr. I apparently had too many stories to fit on one post so I had to separate them. Here is the list to all lists -> Master of Master Lists

If any of the links are broken or you have suggestions to make the list easier to navigate, let me know.

Pink heart divider by @superawesomelurkaccount

The shity Marvel divider was made by me in MS Paint. (Feel free to use it if you want, just give me credit for the mess I made please, thank you.)

Spideypool (Wade Wilson x Peter Parker)

Won't Wake Up Compared to Them What You Think About What Would They Say? (Part 1 of Picking Peter Up From School trilogy.) One or the Other Let Me Be Happy Left Hanging Forever What They Say (Part 2 of Picking Peter Up From School trilogy.) What Do I Care (Part 3 of Picking Peter Up From School trilogy.) A Moment To Mope An Average Morning With Steve Stark-Rogers He's Cold No One Would Care (Can be platonic.) How Peter Got Sick A Hot/Cold Date He Get's It An Omega/Alpha Story Why Did You Leave? Coming Out of the Closet It's Gotta Be Your Name  Won't Look (Part 1 of Crossdressing trilogy.) Gonna Burst (Part 2 of Crossdressing trilogy.) Wing Fic Can't Wait Forever Spideypool Go To See The Deadpool Movie High School AU (Side Stony and Brutasha) Not How It Was Supposed to Go (Part 3 of Crossdressing trilogy.) Worth The Risk (Sequel to Hot/Cold Date) All That Work, Gone One Small Step at a Time Aunt May to the Rescue Welcome Home Neko AU (Catboy) Oral Knotting Just Us

Stony (Tony Stark x Steve Rogers)

Different, But Nice A New Kind of Team Work Not Like Other Nights I Know How You Feel (With some Stucky) Waiting For the Perfect Moment An Average Morning With Steve Stark-Rogers We Need To Talk What You Tell Them Steve's Birthday Present Coming Out of the Closet Never There But Won't Go Away Someone to Listen Papa Bird This Isn't Working Our Secret Little Game

Superfamily (Steve and Tony are Peter's parents.)

Compared to Them One or the Other An Average Morning With Steve Stark-Rogers He's Cold Unlike Father Unlike Son Unlike Father Unlike Son (Extra) A, Tiny, Early Superfamily Christmas Story  Coming Out of the Closet It's Gotta Be Your Name 

Stucky (James "Bucky" Barnes x Steve Rogers)

I Know How You Feel (With some Stony) Are You Worried About Me?

Cherik (Charles Xavier x Erik Lehnsherr)

God Help Me

Reader-Insert

Clueless (Thor x Reader) Woman in My Bed (Loki, Tony Stark, Charles Xavier, Steve Rogers, Wade Wilson, Matt Murdock, Erik Lehnsherr, Peter Parker, Logan, and Bruce Banner x Reader)

[slut-for-evans-stan]

Y'all, I was just talking to my sister about the first-ever Wattpad fic I read back in 2021, and we were both losing it over the way I was describing it. She insisted we go through the comments together for the nostalgia and to laugh some more, so I immediately reinstalled the app, only to spend the next two hours searching intensively, and I still couldn't find it. I remember the name (pretty sure it was called "History"), I remember the plot, I remember everything except the author. It was a Marvel fanfic; a polyamorous Steve and Bucky x Reader story, and it even had two separate parts, the first part that established their relationship was set in the 1940s and the other in recent times. The reader had powers too. If anyone knows a way I can access it again or if it still exists somewhere, please help me out. As unhinged as the fic was, it was my first ever, and I enjoyed it way too much to just let it go :')

[sebastianstanisahotmf]

Confessions

Steve Rogers x Reader

A/N 'SUP BITCHES, I'M BACK TO POSTING... But on a serious note kinda I think at this point I've got to accept that I haven't got the mental capacity or attention span to regularly post on Tumblr. Also, there will be a part two to this. maybe even a part three. I also want to thank those who have continously supported my other posts although I haven't posted any new fics in months I love you all. And as always likes, comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

THIS IS NOT AN 18+ FIC BUT I STILL FEEL UNCOMFORTABLE WITH MINORS READING MY FICS SO PLEASE DNI IF YOU ARE A MINOR.

Summary Confessions are made and discussed, changing the dynamics between you, Steve and Bucky

DO NOT REPOST ONTO ANY OTHER APPS/WEBSITES. THE ONLY PLACE THIS FIC IS ON IS TUMBLR.

Warnings Fluff and angst.....lots of angst.

Today, you and Steve were going on your monthly date. You were dressed in the new outfit you bought with Natasha the day before. Your makeup was minimal, and your hair was in Steve’s favourite style. He wouldn't admit it, but every time you do your hair like this, it always ends in some mind-blowing orgasms. 

 

“Are you ready, doll?” Steve shouted from the bedroom as you were checking your outfit in the floor-to-ceiling mirror in your ensuite.

 

“Yes, I just need to get my bag and phone,” you responded.

 

“I’ve already got them for you.” 

 

You walked out of the bathroom, smiling at your boyfriend since he knew how forgetful you are. He held up your bag and you checked it to ensure nothing had been forgotten, and unsurprisingly, everything you needed was in there. 

 

“Thanks, babe,” you told him before pressing a kiss to his lips. 

 

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

 

You had arrived at the restaurant just in time for your reservation. Steve made sure to open the door before you could open it for yourself, and you thanked him. You approached the host stand and waited for a minute before a waitress with long, purple hair and an array of piercings approached you.

 

“Do you guys have a reservation for tonight?” She asked with a smile.

 

“Yes, for Rogers,” Steve told her.

 

She typed on the laptop on the desk, “Ah, yes.” She clicked on something and then asked you to follow her. 

 

She took you to a table in the far corner of the restaurant, which meant you and Steve could have more privacy. Both of you thanked the waitress after she handed you a couple of menus.

 

“I didn’t think you were going to take me somewhere so expensive, I would’ve worn nicer clothes,” you told Steve, looking around the large restaurant with dim lighting and elegant tables and chairs. “The menu doesn’t even have the prices on it.”

 

Steve playfully rolled his eyes and responded, “ Firstly, my love, you wouldn’t be comfy in your nicer clothes, and secondly, you’re not paying, so order what you want and I’ll pay.”

 

You stuck your tongue out at him and proceeded to look through the menu while talking to Steve about your week. 

 

After 10 minutes, the waitress returned, and you and Steve ordered your drinks and food. She returned a minute later with your drinks, telling you that your food would be out shortly.

You both put your menus to the side and looked at each other. There was a tension in the air and neither of you wanted to discuss it.

After a minute of being uncomfortable, you huffed and broke the silence, “So, Bucky.” 

“Yeah, Bucky,” Steve responded, looking down.

“Y’know you don’t have to feel guilty,” you tried to grab his hand but he just pulled away- your eyes softened at the action.

“I do,” he took a deep, shaky breath “I confessed to my girlfriend of 3 years that I have a crush on my childhood best friend.” 

“You don’t need to be ashamed Steve, you can love another man.”

“I know…it.. it's not that.”

“Then what is it, babe? I can’t begin to help you if you don’t tell me where the issue is.” 

“Do you not see the issue, I love you and Bucky….If you make me choose…I-”

You cut him off before he could say more, “Who said you had to choose?”

“Wh…what?”

“I really didn’t want to tell you this but I have a thing for you AND Bucky but when we got together I didn’t want to tell you that I also found your best friend of over 80 years hot.” 

Steve’s face scrunched up in confusion, “So why did you agree to go out with me, darlin’?”

You smiled “Because you asked me first and I assumed that since you approached me, I wasn’t Bucky’s type. But that’s ok because you’re amazing. I truly feel the same way about you and Bucky. I-I just didn’t want to admit it for a long time.”

A smile had crept its way onto Steve’s face. “So where do we go from here?”

“Well, it depends on what you want. If you want to continue our relationship then I’ll be happy but if you want to pursue a relationship with Bucky then I'm equally as happy. Your happiness is what determined my happiness so if you have to be with Bucky to be happy I'm not making you choose, I'm simply letting you love the person you want to not who you feel like you should love,” tears had started to gather in your waterline and Steve’s too. You were about to continue but Steve got there first.

“But I want both of you,” his voice cracked on the last word and your heart shattered.

“You can have both of us, I was just about to say that we could discuss adding Bucky to our relationship.

Steve looked you in the eye, “Really?” he was wiping away the tears that had started to fall, “how does that work?” 

“Have you heard of polyamory before?” Steve just shook his head in response “Well, it's a word used to describe a relationship involving more than two people.”

“You would do that?” he asked his tone hopeful.

“Of course I would I love you so so so much and Bucky is so sweet and amazing,” you replied with a smile.

Steve was about to respond but the waitress came along with your food and placed it on the table in front of you and Steve.

“We can continue this talk after dinner,” you offered to which Steve agreed. 

You ate your food in a comfortable silence. It wasn’t long before you both finished and decided against dessert in favour of getting back to the compound and talking to Bucky. 

The waitress brought the bill over and Steve paid, leaving a hefty tip as you both left, hand in hand, getting yourselves ready to talk to Bucky about your…… shared interest in him.

If you want to be tagged whenever I post a fic then click on the link. Also ill update it to give another option for stucky.

If you want to see what I repost my other account is @sebastianstanisahotmf-reblogs

Taglist: @nicoline1998enilocin @sergeantbarnessdoll @buckys-wintersoldier @kenzs-world @hisredheadedgoddess28 @kandis-mom @nekoannie-chan @cutedisneygrl

[supercap2319]

Steve: "Y/N? Is it okay to borrow your partner's clothes? Do you think Bucky would be upset with me?"

Y/N: "Steve, it's your God-given right to steal your boyfriend's clothes and make them look better by wearing it. I can't tell you how many times I've stolen all Peter's good hoodies."

[manidk1273]

🎀 — STUCKYWIDOW

Stuckywindow(Steve Rogers, James 'Bucky' Barnes, and Natasha Romanoff) Child content:)

FYI: THIS ISNT RELATED TO ANY POLITICS.

STUCKYWIDOW • Who has a son, somehow managing to have all their DNA's together, when the husbands asked Tony about it he examined the situation and it's something to do with the supersoldier serum.

STUCKYWIDOW • Where Natasha always shoves it in her husband's face, especially Steve's that their son knows more Russian than English. (he's 2 and has absolutely no idea what the translation of water in English is.)

STUCKYWIDOW • Where their son is so incredibly strong at just the age of 6 months old because of his dad's that he once broke Peter's finger with his grip. (The baby thought it was a game)

STUCKYWIDOW • Where their child is naturally stealthy, agile and fast that when you take one second off of them, they're suddenly across the house.

STUCKYWIDOW • Where Natasha's husbands were forced to learn Russian cause of their kid.

STUCKYWIDOW • Where Steve went through the five stages of grief knowing his kid prefers Russian over America (🦅🦅🦅🔫🔫🔫🇺🇸 RAHHH)

STUCKYWIDOW • Where the kid, who just started kindergarten gets treated differently because of his accent, and because he can't properly speak English. Even most of the teachers don't like him cause they think of him as a communist:(.

STUCKYWIDOW • Where Steve doesn't take any of their bullshit and gives the parents, teachers, staff members a reality check that just because his son is Russian doesn't mean he's automatically a communist.

STUCKYWINDOW • Where Natasha always finds her boys getting into trouble. Whether it be her husbands teaching their 4 year old son to handle a gun(mostly Bucky's idea) or her son accidentally sinking his dad's mental arm into the bottom of the deep pool.

STUCKYWIDOW • Where their son is honestly so fearless (a dare devil) that he started breaking bones at the age of 2.

STUCKYWIDOW THAT NO MATTER WHAT HAPPENS THEY'LL ALWAYS LOVE THEIR BABY BOY<3

[softestqueeen]

✧*̥˚ masterlist *̥˚✧

most of my fics are x fem!reader (i subconsiusly have me in mind, makes sense) but you can request fics with different dynamics!

all of my fics can also be read on my ao3: @ softestqueeen

my masterlist for my specials! -> my specials are NOT on my regular masterlist!

please MDNI!! most of my content is for a mature audience only!

✧*̥˚ key *̥˚✧

❤️‍🔥 smut 🌸fluff ⛓️ hurt/comfort 🖤 dark ✍🏻 request

✧*̥˚ BBC Sherlock *̥˚✧

i can't do this anymore! ⛓️🌸 sherlock holmes x reader When Sherlock overhears you talking on the phone, he thinks you're going to leave him.

let the light in 🌸 sherlock holmes x reader After a particularly frustrating case, all the consulting detective needs, is closeness.

misty mornings 🌸 sherlock homles x reader feat. Mrs Hudson and John Watson When Sherlock Holmes awakes on his birthday, he doesn’t expect anyone to remember it. But of course, you do.

don't you forget about me, sherlock part 1 sherlock holmes x reader When Janine forces Sherlock to choose between being in a relationship with her and living with you, he has to make a tough decision. How will your feelings for each other be affected by it?

✧*̥˚ Marvel/mcu *̥˚✧

need to be closer ❤️‍🔥🌸 bruce banner x afab!reader You love your boyfriend Bruce Banner with all of your heart but sometimes you just don‘t feel close enough. So you decide to try something new...

when you come home to us, pretty boy... ❤️‍🔥 sub!steve rogers x dom/afab!reader x dom!buck barnes It was no secret that your relationship was kinky. Even though Steve has been pleasured by Bucky multiple times, he wants you to mark him. And who are you to turn such a good boy down?

i have an idea... ❤️‍🔥 sub!steve rogers x dom/afab!reader x dom!buck barnes On the first vacation with your boyfriends, Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes, you notice the shower with a glass wall into the bedroom and immediately know how to put it to good use…

let me teach you pt. 1 🌸 steve rogers x afab!reader x bucky barnes You are a literature professor at university and your boyfriends decide to pay you a visit and listen to one of your lectures.

let me teach you pt. 2 ❤️‍🔥🌸 steve rogers x afab!reader x bucky barnes You are a literature professor at university and your boyfriends decide to pay you a visit and listen to one of your lectures. When they join you at your office, things get a little out of hand…

slipping and gliding pt. 1 ❤️‍🔥🌸✍🏻 natasha romanoff x afab!reader When the Avengers spend a day at the local water park, you start to see a certain redhead in a different light. You’ve never had anything with a woman before, but Natasha doesn’t mind showing you what feels good.

slipping and gliding pt. 2 ❤️‍🔥 natasha romanoff x afab!reader After what happened in the showers, you and Nat make a quick exit to move your fooling around to somewhere else…

but daddy i love him ⛓️✍🏻 stephen strange x fem!stark!reader Tony Stark – your father – finds out about your romantic relationship with the infamous Stephen Strange. How will he react to you dating someone who is almost 20 years older than you.

natasha romanoff smut drabble

✧*̥˚ Call of Duty *̥˚✧

it's yours, princess ❤️‍🔥 simon “ghost” riley x reader x könig (cod) On a mission with König and Ghost you have to stay at a safe house. The only problem – there is only one bed.

my little flower pt. 1 ❤️‍🔥🖤🌸✍🏻 stalker!könig (cod) x reader You were just minding your business, planting some new flowers in your garden, when suddenly a (charming) man in a mask abducts you to use you for his pleasure. You are incredibly conflicted; the stranger seems to be kinda nice but also incredibly selfish at the same time.

my little flower pt. 2 ❤️‍🔥🖤✍🏻 stalker!könig (cod) x reader Slowly you’re getting used to living with the man that was slowly becoming more than just the man who abducted you. You’re also getting used to the different ways he’s using and abusing your body.

do you trust me, sweetheart? ❤️‍🔥🌸✍🏻 simon “ghost” riley x afab!reader After an unsuccessful mission, you notice how tense and stressed your colleague and friend Simon “Ghost” Riley is. When you ask him how you can help him relieve some stress, things take an unexpected turn…  

thank you for your service ❤️‍🔥✍🏻 simon "ghost" riley x gn!reader You boyfriend, Simon “Ghost” Riley has to do way too much work at home for your liking. But no worries, you found a solution that works for the both of you.

✧*̥˚ Haunting Adeline*̥˚✧

red roses and deadly promises ❤️‍🔥🖤🌸 zade meadows x fem!reader When your stalker, Zade Meadows, has to do some business out of town, someone new makes an unwelcome appearance. How will Zade react when someone tries to steal you away from him?

untitled asian!reader blurb ✍🏻🖤 -> part 2 ❤️‍🔥✍🏻

✧*̥˚ Criminal Minds*̥˚✧

ugh, i just love you ⛓️ spencer reid x reader When you accidently let the a love confession towards your best friend, Spencer Reid, tumble out of your mouth, you think you’ve ruined the friendship between you completely.

i don't know what i'd do without you 🌸⛓️ aaron hotchner x gn!reader Aaron comforts you after a nightmare.

pretty when i cry 🌸⛓️ spencer reid x gn!reader When Spencer returns home he gets immediately worried when he sees you bawling your eyes out. Little does he know, it’s just because of a book.

care for a dance? 🌸 spencer reid x gn!reader spencer learns how to dance to teach you.

jingle bells ❤️‍🔥 spencer reid x reader you surprise your boyfriend, spencer reid, with something very special for christmas.

just a kiss 🌸⛓️❤️‍🔥 aaron hotchner x reader a kiss under the mistletoe with a certain casanova makes your boyfriend, aaron hotchner, question himself.

soapy heaven🌸 spencer reid x reader taking a lovely shower with your lovely boyfriend aka spencer reid going crazy for you washing his hair

long hair!spencer nsfw drabble ❤️‍🔥

aaron hotchner luff drabble/ficlet 🌸✍🏻

emily prentiss x emt!reader hcs! 🌸✍🏻

spoiled emily headcanons 🌸✍🏻

✧*̥˚ Actors/Actresses*̥˚✧

like the movies ❤️‍🔥✍🏻 mads mikkelsen x actress!reader While attending the premiere of your new movie “The Hunt” with your co-worker and good friend Mads Mikkelsen, you get a little bit emotional. After Mads comforts you, he offers to bring you home. Once at your room, things develop quite different than you imagined..

[aspenmissing]

ʜᴇᴀᴅᴄᴀɴᴏɴ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ

☆ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ | ❋ᴀɴɢꜱᴛ | ✧ꜱᴘɪᴄʏ | ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛᴇᴅ

ʀᴇᴛᴜʀɴ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ

ᴛʜᴇ ꜱɪʟᴇɴᴛ ᴍᴀʀʀɪᴀɢᴇ (ꜱᴛᴇᴠᴇ | ʙᴜᴄᴋʏ | ꜱᴛᴜᴄᴋʏ | ᴛᴏɴʏ | ᴍᴏᴏɴᴋɴɪɢʜᴛ | ʟᴏᴋɪ) ☆

[sarahowritesostucky]

In the Kinktober Spirit!🍂⛓️

Feel free to use! (give a RB or @sarahowritesostucky if you do!)

AI lumberjack Bucky: @mrmrbucky

[dispatchvampire]

Accidentally in Love (Chapter 3)

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes x FemaleOC

Warnings: Potentially lethal levels of fluffiness right now, potential for smut later. A little blood, canon levels of violence potentially. Plus size female OC, body descriptions.

Rating: PG-13 (right now for language, but look for this to change)

WC: 1800-ish.

Summary: 

Echo's living a normal life in NYC, a 911 dispatcher, the most excitement she gets is from the calls she takes. And then love comes crashing in one day when she's riding her bike through Central Park.

Steve and Bucky weren't looking for anything on their daily run around the park besides fresh air and exercise. The streak of purple eye candy on a bike that lapped them pretty regularly was a nice addition but not mandatory, at least until some impromptu roughhousing results in some civilian casualties in the form of the most beautiful woman either of them had seen in a long, long time.

A/N: AU, Post CACW, Bucky’s Chill and we have always lived in the Tower. Just call this a throwback to the found family, everyone lives in Stark Tower fics.

This is supposed to be a super-fluffy love story. Still undecided if I'm gonna keep this one going but posting now for giggles and grins. It's got some CSI:NY characters crossing over because why not.

I'm just messing about and playing in my WIPs folder. Not Beta'd: we die like men! (honestly, I tried but if you catch something I missed, let me know)

Chapter 3

One Week Later

“Is he hot in person?”

“Who?” Echo slipped her lunch into the breakroom fridge and pulled out the two cold bottles of caffeinated water she’d left in there the previous night. Late afternoon as it slipped into evening was always a busy time and she needed the fortification. 

“Spongebob Squarepants,” Kalenda, her work bestie, scoffed as she crossed her arms with an impatient frown. The curvy brunette was Echo’s age, about two inches shorter but making up for it with feistiness. “Who do you think? Bucky freaking Barnes! Christ, it’s like you don’t even know me at all.”

 “Lord…” she rolled her eyes as she held the door to the break room open for her friend to pass in front of her on their way into the main center. “Yes. Yes, he is just as beautiful in person, and he and Captain Rogers together are, in fact, as kind and stupidly hot as advertised.” After the visit at the hospital where they’d returned her replaced or repaired belongings—including her bike—Echo had traded numbers with Steve and Bucky, and the guys had texted her a few times in the intervening days to check on her and chatting a little, but it felt weird reaching out to contact them just because. It wasn’t like they were friends or anything. 

Not that she wouldn’t have minded being their friend, or… well, or. They were gorgeous, sweet, funny so far as she could tell, and of course heroic and selfless as hell. The way they smiled at her made her knees weak and her pussy may never recover. What’s not to like? But who was she kidding, really. They were the objects of desire for over half the planet, she guessed, and she was a dispatcher for the NYPD. In no way were those worlds truly related, outside of the most superficial ways, much less were compatible. 

“The hair and those eyes, I’d get so fucking lost in them you’d never find me again. And all those muscles,” she sighed lustily. “Fuck me, that’s before we even talk about that metal arm,” Kalenda carried on, now in full swoon as they made their way out to their stations. “Gods, the things I would let him do to me…” 

Echo snorted at her friend’s obvious heart-eyes in regards to the Winter Soldier. She didn’t blame her at all, but still, their coworkers didn’t need to be privy to their depraved bestie conversations. That’s what the chat was for. “Annnnnnd that is how we end up back at the supervisor’s office for inappropriate work conversations.”

Kalenda scoffed, waving off her concern with a dismissive hand-wave. “Oh, like you’ve never said anything filthy.” Her wicked grin should have been the warning. “Something something ‘star-spangled cock could split you open any time he wanted’? Something something ‘break him down to the frame’... any of that sound familiar?” 

Her leering green gaze as she slipped on her headset made Echo giggle even as heat rushed to her cheeks. “You could shut up any time now.”  

The laughter was shortlived, though, as they settled into their workday. Having a headset on meant that it was time to serve the citizens of NYC and the officers of NYPD to the best of their abilities. They were one of, if not the, largest comm center in the country and Echo was proud of the work she did, contributing to the safety of her town. 

It was easy to get lost in the work, one call at a time, one radio run at a time. Her focus, scattered as it could be at any other time, easily fell into the rhythm of call and response, action and reaction, hours slipping by unnoticed. 

Voices behind her and down at the end of her row drew her attention, their familiarity abruptly yanking her out of the zone. 

One pair of eyes zeroed in on her immediately. “Well, if it isn’t the crash test dummy.” 

Boisterously loud for the locale, Tony Stark was the walking definition of ‘all eyes on me’. He may have been in a crazy expensive suit and tie, looking all prim and proper and what have you, but the curve of his lips promised the most interesting kinds of mischief. 

Echo swallowed hard as she made herself unavailable for calls, her eyes quickly darting left and right to the unabashed gawking of her coworkers. Oh, they were still busy as hell, but the nosy bastards were never above a good spectacle. “Mr. Stark.” 

“Did the phone meet your standards?” he demanded with a smirk that seemed a little too knowing. He stopped behind her chair, spinning her around to face him. 

She nodded hesitantly. “It did, thank you. I mailed you a thank you note. Did you not get it?” 

Yes, it had been an old school touch, but sending him an email seemed a little impersonal, especially since he’d gone to the trouble of transferring all her stuff over in addition to giving her a top of the line bit of tech. And it wasn’t like she could just show up on his doorstep with a casserole.

He snorted, his billion dollar smile on full display as his eyes crinkled at the edges. “I did, but then, I expected nothing less considering you hang out with the geriatric set.” 

She was about to ask what he meant when another voice cut her off. “Tony, Jesus, man. Quiet down, people are working here—oh, hey Echo.” 

She sincerely hoped the whimpering squeak as she spun quickly to face him she heard was just in her head, though Kalenda’s snort behind her indicated no such luck. “Hi. James. I-I mean Bucky. Um…” her eyes met her bestie’s just behind him for some help, but only found the kind of mocking encouragement born from years of friendship. “Nice to see you. Here. At my job.” 

“Um yeah, about that…” The brunet smoothed his long bangs back out of his face behind his ears and grinned bashfully as he rubbed the back of his neck. Under other circumstances, she and Kalenda would be ogling him for the way the seams of his deep blue henley were barely clinging to life across his shoulders and around his massive arms and the skinny jeans that were all but wrecking her concentration. “Cap and Tony had a meeting at 1PP and Stevie wanted me to tag along.” 

“I’m glad he did.” The way her compliment made his cheeks flush felt like winning an award, even if the normal filter she kept up at work slipped a bit. 

“Me too.” The tiny shy grin that danced at the corners of his lips was killing her slowly, even as the somewhat awkward silence stretched out between them. 

Kalenda’s obvious throat-clearing seemed to startle her back into herself, reminding her acutely of both their location and their audience. 

“Well, it’s always good to see you.” The platitude was automatic, off her tongue and into the space between them before she even thought about it, her nerves robbing her mind of anything but decent manners. Good gods, she was never gonna live this down. 

“You look good.” His eyes widened a moment later as he flushed bright red, clearly that hadn’t been what he’d meant to come out of his mouth. “I mean, that is… you look better than when I saw you last time.” 

“Hard not to,” she conceded, her mind bordering on hysterical the longer this conversation went on. It felt like the whole world was watching this junior-high level farce and she was stumbling through it, quite badly. 

“Well, on the upside, you’re wearing more clothes this time,” Tony interjected oh-so-helpfully, looking like he was avidly watching the best telenovela ever and doing nothing to quell the likely overheating rumor mill that had just kicked into gear around them. “And there’s less blood.” 

“Alright, thank you, Mr. Stark,” Shelly, the floor supervisor’s breathlessly cheerful voice sounded like she’d rather eat broken glass than let that conversation continue as she rushed across the room to join them. “Echo, Mr. Stark, Sergeant Barnes, and Captain Rogers—”

“Hello, Echo.” 

She was almost afraid to look, though Kalenda’s dreamy sigh left her no other choice. Sure enough, the gods of horniness were testing her and pretty much every woman in the five boroughs with these three Avengers out together. In a black t-shirt under a green button-down and jeans that gave her the most impure thoughts possible about his thighs, the blond Avenger with the pink cheeks grinned at her warmly from his spot behind Tony. The fact her panties didn’t burst into flames right there was a miracle of modern physics. 

“Hey Steve.” 

“As I was saying,” her supervisor huffed, bringing all of the attention back to her, “they’re here to tour the center, so we should really be on our way.” 

Sounded reasonable to her, so long as they were there, Echo doubted there’d be much work done anyway. “Alright then.” Echo turned back to her console to take stock of her district. “It was good to see you. Be safe out there.”

“Before we go though…” Buck’s half-grin as he met her eye over her shoulder warmed her to her toes. “You out of here soon?” 

“A few hours. Why?” 

“Wanna meet up for a late dinner?” 

His hopeful expression tugged at her heart. It was the kind of thing that made her want to give him the world, even if she didn’t know him like that. “It’ll be after ten,” she hedged, perched on the fence between really wanting to spend time with them because who wouldn’t, really, and knowing that she’s no one special and didn’t have any business tagging along with them. 

“Then we’ll leave a light on for ya,” Steve replied cheerfully as he and Bucky were led further into the center and away from her desk. “See you tonight.”

“Always a pleasure, Crash,” Tony called, following behind him. 

Echo sat blinking at her console as she watched the group retreat, only spurred to action when she caught Steve’s eye as he winked at her before leaving the room. 

“What just happened?” she asked the Universe at large as she typed in the login code for her phone from muscle memory.

“Looks to me,” Kalenda replied lightly dropping off a new bottle of caffeinated water, “like you have a date after work.” 

“Huh.” The very idea was mindblowing. Quickly, her mind was shaken from its haze by a bank robbery that required both her and Kalenda’s attention for quite a while. 

“And had the nerve not to introduce me.”

[tarithenurse]

Inhuman

Fandom: MCU Pairing: Loki x fem!reader, Stucky, more (some canon, some not). Word count: 2428. Contents: The lure. A/N: Any questions are welcome. Please comment and like and reblog. Let me know if you want a tag.

Chapter 61

... Bukcy’s PoV ...

Everyone who can wield a tool have been put to work over the last 36 hours to finish prepping the jets and repair the hijacked spy-ship. It’s a surprisingly flat vehicle, shaped like a Frisbee with a bite taken out of it. Near the centre of the would-have-been circle, the structure rises to house a section housing a cockpit and a few necessary instalments. Underneath the floor, is where the main engine is situated and Stark is having a field day exploring it.

Those that don’t already know their way around a mechanic’s world have been paired with people who do and Bucky has had to work side by side with [Y/N]. He knows that she’s been doing her best to stay neutral, or even professional, but there is no doubt that she knows what Steve told Bucky shortly after the expeditionary forces returned to the planet Earth.

It had been…a revelation.

Looking over to where Steve is standing with most of the upper body obscured by an engine the size of his car, Bucky can imagine how the blond man’s brows are furrowed with concentration and the ice blue eyes are trying to wrench any secrets from the machinery.

“Bucky…Buck!” [Y/N]’s voice calls him back to the task at hand and he tries to eliminate the sheepish expression he must have sported.

“Sorry.” The woman has her hand stretched out for more of the thin covers for all the wires in one of the quinjet’s wing panels and he hands them to her dutifully.

Grabbing his hand instead of only the sleeves, she gives him a small squeeze. “It’s oki…” She returns her small hands to the work where something as big as Bucky’s large mitts can’t reach. “Should I congratulate you?”

“On what?”

“A new and good relationship, of course.”

Truth be told, Bucky isn’t quite sure what is going on with him and Steve. He’s always seen himself as a ladies man…and there has been no indication that Steve swung any other way either. Thinking back, though, there was no other person who had been through as much with him as Steve had. Steve used to be sick and scrawny and in the winters he was always freezing, so already when they were kids and had stayed over at each other’s places, Bucky had begun to crawl into Steve’s bed, holding the skinny boy close to try to give him some of the heat he himself had so much of. It had felt…right. Safe. And never had Steve protested. Bucky couldn’t count the times he’d ignored his best friend’s weak protests and stayed close to him is a new bout of pneumonia wrecked the already fragile body, making the bigger kid lie awake, afraid that he suddenly wouldn’t hear the raspy breathing anymore. Or even when the asthma played up, making it feel like there wasn’t enough air in the world, would Bucky’s presence be enough to calm Steve down again, help him control the breathing until Steve was able to smile back at him again. But they had had to be just best friends, anything else would have been unacceptable in the world they grew up in.

“What would people think?” Sorting through the screws and bolts, Bucky makes sure to hide his face.

“Us or other people? ‘Cause we’d be fine…eventually at least.”

Sharon had retreated to Langley before Steve got back on base, probably needed some time away from any reminders or to do whatever women do after a breakup. What had [Y/N] done? He’s tempted to ask, but not sure he’ll like the answer.

The woman has moved on to the next part: shrinking the sleeves, and she is patting her pockets for the thin lighter.

Shaking off the nagging conscience, Bucky returns to the subject. “…and other people?”

“Meh.” How articulate. “Some people will love it, see it as a flagship for human rights. Others will hate the idea and will want to denounce your affiliation with this country or its politics.” She has to stop to blow cool air over the now hardened layer. Once cooled, it will be able to withstand temperatures well over 1600 degrees Celsius. Maybe more than 3000 degree Fahrenheit. “But, you know…” for the first time since the beginning of this conversation, she turns to face him, “…if it’s right, then you should roll with it.”

… Reader’s PoV …

You are staring at the alien control panel before the captain’s seat. Your heart is trying to hammer its way up through your dry throat and reducing the sounds to a distant murmur through a constant whooshing and thumping in your ears.

“Just flick that switch when ready,” Rocket is explaining, his tiny paws indicating a little silvery lever above their heads. “When you talk, you hold that button. When he talks, if he answers, you don’t touch anything.”

The handy creature has even installed a little microphone in the panel, ensuring that the rest of them can hear any sound in the cockpit even as they retreat to the war room. It’s a one-way channel, meaning that you can’t hear anything from their end. No distractions.

Refocusing your attention to the simplicity of the task does little to steady your nerves. “You’re sure tha–”

“That he can’t trace this?” It’s not the first time the raccoon has been asked to verify this part. “Absolutely. And he can’t see much either, mainly glitches and lag and pixels. He won’t get a good view of you.” Patting your arm, a surprisingly tender gesture, he jumps off the armrest and leaves the cockpit.

You have finally finished the work on the jets and even this thing will be able to travel back out into space. The final frontier. Some part of you wonder if it’s at all as amazing as the cult-series promises. You hope so because soon you’ll be out there…if all goes well now. Breathing deeply in an attempt to steady you heart rate and hands, you reach up and flick the little switch. Static fills the air until you push the triangular button down, making it glow green.

“Hello?” There is no guarantee that there is anyone on the receiving end. “Is anybody there? I don’t have much time. Hello?”

Letting go, you lean back and wait.

And wait.

The static is broken by a soft crackle before someone replies in a language you don’t understand. A little screen activates on one of the displays and a distorted image of a grey being is visible.

“Yes! Hello! Do you understand me? I don’t speak your language…”

Whoever it is disappears from the screen, leaning out of the picture frame. Hushed voices discuss something and then the image flickers as if someone has switched channels. Now you can see a dark silhouette against a panel of lights.

“Who is this?” The accent is thick, impossible to place as if it’s a product of only reading the language but never hearing it.

“I’m [Y/N]. Listen, I don’t have much time, but I need to –“

The image swivels and the speaker is illuminated for the first time. The first thing you notice is the massive chin and jawline that look like they have been hewn from sheer rock. Secondly, it’s the purple hue his skin has, like lavender or heliotropes. Thanos.

“You are considered a healer among your people. Tell me…have they seen what else you can do?” His voice is deep and mocking.

Biting back the wish to cut the connection, you swallow. “Thanos…” Appear to be in awe. “They have. And that is why I…I need your help.”

“My help? With what?” It’s impossible to tell if he believes you or not.

“It’s…I don’t understand what is happening to me. But I know I have more…power than I ever imagined…and more than they want me to have.” You shoot a glance of the shoulder for theatrics before continuing. “I don’t have much time before they’ll wonder where I am. Please. After what I did…they locked me away. They shun me even now. They pretend everything is fine, but they fear me…and they should…”

A rumbling sound travels through the channel and it takes a moment before you realize he is laughing quietly to himself. “They are right to fear you?”

“They betrayed me. Turned their backs on me.” The words sting because they hit so close to home. “Now they want me to be their puppet again…”

“And what do you want, little girl?” He is leaning forward in his seat, getting so close to the camera that you can see the white in his eyes.

“No one stabs me in the back and gets away with it.”

His smile is impossibly wide. “Then tell me, where are they? I shall destroy them for you…if you will come with me.”

This is what you had hoped for. That Thanos would be desperate enough for your killing power that he wouldn’t think twice about your sudden turning.

Not that fast, oversized lump of playdough. “No. Being the enemy of my enemy does not mean I trust you. Besides…I want to be a part of it. I want them to know that I’m coming, and I want them to fear me more than they do now.”

“Then what do you suggest?” Thanos has leaned back and is rubbing his cracked chin with an enormous thumb.

This is the part that has to go right. One wrong word will make him suspicious of the set-up and their plan will fail. You open and close your mouth, looking over your shoulder once more, before returning part of your attention to the Titan. “They want to make this thing fly again. If they –” Repeating the maneuver from before, you get to your feet and leans in near the communications panel. This close to the panel you can smell the metal and plastic and the dust that’s hidden in the tiny crevasses and gaps. “Someone’s coming. There has to be somewhere we can meet out of their range if this tin-can gets airborne. I’ll find out and I’ll try to get in touch with you. Okay?”

“Intriguing.” He smiles. “I can instruct you on how to make the vessel fly.”

You have to talk fast even as you’re moving like someone dying to go to the toilet. “Good. I’ll need that. But I’ll never get a chance to take off if they are on their toes.”

“No more spy vessels – they’ll lower their guard, allowing you to have more freedom.”

“I hope so.” You stare into the little camera by the screen. “I have to go. Thank you, lord Thanos.”

Flicking the switch once more you sever the communications link, allowing you to finally be yourself. As you sink down in the seat you can feel your hands and legs shaking. Air…I need cold air! Pushing yourself up, you hurry out of the cramped spacecraft, aiming for the only way out by foot (without starting alarms) even though it will take you right past the war-room.

Sure enough, they are piling out into the hallway. The newer faces are looked impressed or maybe even cheerful but a few of your friends have concern weighing down their brows. Yeah…a good lie is close to the truth. What you had told Thanos must have put them, and especially Bucky, in an uncomfortable situation. The tightly build man, the one you considered a rock in your life only a few weeks ago, is already reaching out for you.

Snaking past his outstretched hand, you bark back over your shoulder. “Gimme five.”

…

Your forehead is resting against the cold concrete belonging to the main building of the Bunker. The rest of your escape out here had been a blur and now the silent figure standing near the door tells her that the five minutes are up. Pushing off the clammy surface with your palms, you look over at Bucky, who is fidgeting with lines in the metalwork his arm is made of.

“I know,” your voice is surprisingly clear.

Taking the last step down the low staircase, the soldier and assassin strides over to you and grabs you by the upper arms. “What you told Thanos –”

“I hope he bought it.”

“Is it really just a lie?” Bucky grinds out between his clenched teeth.

His fingertips are digging into the flesh, sending a numbing pain all the way down to your hands. “Relax. I don’t want to betray any of you or hurt you.” You have to fight to keep the voice even. “I thought we’d already established that?”

Yeah, you had felt betrayed for a moment. Not for being send off to ensure the safety of the rest of the team, but for being abandoned by the one person you had thought would help you through anything. And you had wanted to be pissed off and angry at him despite what you had told yourself or even Loki…but you just couldn’t. And yeah, Bucky’s reaction had kept hurting. Right until Steve had spoken with you that day in the forest. Then it had made sense. Looking into the steel of your ex-boyfriend’s eyes, you recognize the type of concern that’s centred around someone else.

“Would I lie to you?”

He knows you wouldn’t and he lets go, burying the hands in his black jeans instead. “No.” A sheepish grin flicker across his face. “Didn’t think you were that good at pretend.”

“Please! I’m a former child-actor.”

Eyeing each other, it becomes an unspoken battle of keeping from laughing first. Damn it. Your cheeks are hurting and shoulders shaking from the pent-in giggles that are threatening to erupt and it’s a relief when the stone-faced killer snorts, setting off his own mirth, clear like bells.

By the time you can talk again, steadying each other to straighten up from being buckled over, the uncomfortable tension has lessened between you. There was no logic in the laughing-fit, no reason why your past had seemed so hilarious all of a sudden.

“Child-actor?”

“Amateur theatre, some of it directed by my Grams.”

Sure, you had been performing on stage many times as a kid. Had it been heartfelt? Absolutely. Talented? Probably not. It had been fun though.

Running a hand over your face, you steady herself to face the waiting teammates inside, enjoying that Bucky once again is making you feel safe as you walk side by side down the hall where modern art is framed with black.

[a-strange-echo]

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