#ticklish!Sam Wilson

[berrys-hide-out]

Captain blue

A/N: On request! @w1nt37 I hope this is to your Imagination! ;) I'm glad you sent in that request, I had a lot of fun playing with the characters! ^^ (not proofread.. if there's something do let me know!) and @w1nt37 if you think I didn’t do this fic the justice it deserved or you want a sequel no matter the outcome, do let me know!

Now have fun~! ^^

Info; This is a Tickle fic with Lee!Sam and Ler!Bucky, warnings: A Very low and barely brushed by form of racism, slight cursing (If you want to skip the part of Sam questioning everything skip to greenly markered "Finally they got to the docks")

--------

Sam sighed, Captain America, an idol everyone knew, a super soldier, blonde, perfect hair, huge build and not to mention used to be a kid from Brooklyn. Captain America, a legend who had been frozen in ice for decades and returned to lead the avengers into battle, may that have been against Hydra, aliens or other mighty threats.

Now it was the Falcons turn. Someone who got filtered by ‘race’, someone no one seemed to accept the name of. It was often “the black falcon this”, “the black falcon that”…

It was rarely just… The Falcon.. just Captain America.

Now the shield, which held a huge legacy and was handed down to him, laid in the grass in front of his feet. His thoughts shot through his head like fireworks, all past events seemed to happen in mere seconds in the backs of his eyes. Civil war, thanos, John walker…. The baron.. Now he, Sam Wilson, was the Captain America, and while he was respected by most by now, there was always that someone who hates his guts or had something to say about his position. The kind that made him rethink everything even though he knew he’d never give the shield up again that easily.

….. he didn’t only just wanted to prevent to retrieve it again from some nuts soldier, but Steve chose him. Steve Roger’s chose Sam Wilson to be the next Captain America, he had faith in him, unwavering. And his best friend made sure he remembered that.

Another heavy sigh escaped him. Bucky. He was an ally for himself. How would someone even describe him? Gloomy? Tough but nice? Sam shook his head. Bucky was more than that. He is the white wolf, an agent so strong he survived Hydra and went back to the field, this time on the right side.. and all that for… him. No, right? He went out for the shield.. but stayed because of his friend.

Sam growled and pushed the thoughts away, moving his hands over his face with a defeated sigh.

He stood, taking the shield as he went and walked inside, where he hid it from plain sight before wandering into the kitchen. Bucky who sat on the couch eyed him, “you good?“ he asked but his eyes didn’t move from the screen. Sam didn’t turn around to acknowledge him, instead he continued his trip to the fridge. “Yeah.” He hummed, the tone a lot lower and unsure then he would’ve liked to admit.

The awful tone didn’t go unnoticed by the super soldier which made him turn around and lay his metal arm on the backrest of the couch. His eyes scanned Sam, friend and partner in crime, rummaging through the small fridge. “don’t steal my water.” Sam raised an eyebrow and looked at the door, stifling a snort at the sight of the two tiny water bottles.

“Haven’t you had enough of cold water and ice?” Bucky huffed at the intended playful jab “what’s that supposed to mean?” He asked, his metal hand flexing as he growled slightly.

Sam grinned and looked over the fridge door. “I don’t know man. You were frozen for quite a long time.” He stated making Bucky raise an amused eyebrow “are you trying to get a rise out of me Wilson?” Sam scoffed at the question and shook his head as she grabbed the snack he was searching for. “No, you just can’t take a joke.” He stated as he opened the package and walked past Bucky again and towards the staircase that lead upstairs. Bucky frowned, Sam usually didn’t do such dry quips, usually they were a lot more playful and just then their eyes met once.. before he could comment Sam bested him to talking. “By the way, we’re meeting my sister later today.” He reminded before vanishing. Bucky hummed “okay.” He called after his friend and frowned, what was going on..?

Finally they got to the docks, water was running, children were running around and they? They were just sitting at the table with Sam being awfully far from home, just staring out at the water.

His sister and Bucky noticed rather quickly but neither said anything, rather focusing on trying to somehow get the man into their conversation, without any luck.

When Sam’s Phone vibrated on the bench the man didn’t look over either, Bucky however did, frowning at the article that had popped up. It was one of those that made the public question everyone and everything even if it were pure lies, made up stories used to create chaos.

Bucky eyed Sam, suddenly everything seemed to fall into place. The sour moods, the dry comebacks.. it only ever happened when things like these happened. He sent Sara a look. She understood immediately and looked for the kid, rushing off with a playful flurry of “I’ll catch you!”

Bucky looked at Sam who had finally parted his gaze from the ocean to the children and his sister. The super soldier nudged his side “how about we join them?” He offered. Sam merely huffed “not right now.” He murmured. His friend hummed and watched Sara catch one of the children, hysterical laughter rushing through the air all of a sudden.

Bucky smirked as the child tried escaping to the ground, trying to evade the tickles somehow. “Seems to be running in the family, huh?” He asked. Sam scoffed “what? Tickling? No, not really anyway, just some of the family is ticklish.” He said.

Bucky nodded slowly, was Sam telling the truth? His insinuation he wasn’t ticklish? Only one way to find out ey? His hands latched onto his sides and stomach, not gaining a reaction but he didn’t move anymore either.

It looked like Sam had just frozen in place. Then the man in question turned to him “go on, try.” He urged with a slightly smug expression. The change in demeanour threw Bucky off, but not enough to make him halt.

“Bet.”

Fingers dug around, scribbled and squeezed for any sign of ticklishness.

Sam didn’t move. In fact he froze.

Bucky noticed and kept a close eye on the man’s reactions, looking up with a menacing shine when Sam finally flinched ever so slgihtly „okay that’s enough-”

One second, two, then three seconds passed and the captain bolted. „HEY!“ Bucky exclaimed and raced after his friend, scrambling over the bench and after Sam.

„No-! You had your fun!“ Sam exclaimed with a smile and turned around, yelping when Bucky launched for him. The captain barely dodged and turned back around to run. The kids laughed as they watched the adults chase after each other with glee. The two men leaped over other benches and around other obstacles. „oh Sam~“ Bucky sang playfully. Sam‘s heart skipped a beat, his feet picking up the pace at the incoming, playful, threat. He headed towards the fields, there was slightly more space..

He turned around and jogged backwards „oh Bucky!“ he called back and a grin fought its way onto his face „you had your fun! Come on man!“ Bucky laughed and made another grab for the man „and we both know you need this.“ he growled playfully lowly, making Sam stare at his friend in shock and disbelief at what the man had just said.

With a thud both landed on the ground thanks to Sam tripping. "James N-gghk!" Sam tried complaining, only to tense and shut his yaw, head tilting back ever so slightly at the silly sensation. Bucky meanwhile smirked down at him, hands squeezing and scribbling over the mans sides. "ouh, first name, I must be in biiig trouble." he said with a tone so smug Sam wanted to just pounce at his friend and whipe that damned grin off his face, or retaliate..

retaliate..

Sam growled and wormed his fingers into Bucky's armpits, making the man stop and stare down at his partner in crime. The other froze as well, not because his friend had given no reaction but because of the calculating look in his eyes that made his stomach drop. "You done?" he asked, trying to sound bored and done while turning his head to look away into the distance. Bucky stared for a second longer before his hands swooped up into the Captains armpits. "BUCKEE!" came the surprised screech of his friend and it was like Sam promptly went from a plank on a house, to a fish out of water.

An airy chuckle left Bucky's lips at the image. "AhahaHaey Buhuhucky! Quihit it!" Sam growled through laughter, only to jump as a shock travelled up and down his spine. "HEhehey!" Bucky let his fingers travel around the armits, trying to find the spot that had made his friend jump.. "What was that Wilson?" he purred lowly, the smirk now all too present on his face. "AHahaaha fuhuck off Baharnes!" Bucky scoffed at how daring his friend was in such a peculiar position.. "I doubt you're in a position to say such things mister 'I'm-Not-Ticklish'" he reminded as his finger slowly reached around the armpits, towards the back. "Prehehtty sure I cAHAHAN! BUCKY!" he exclaimed with a highpitched note, hands coming up to grab at Bucky's arms to shove them away without luck.

The tickling may not have been weakening him much, but super soldier strength was already overly unfair!

"YOUhuHU're PLAHAhahayIng UHunfAHAir!" Sam voiced his complain to which Bucky tilted his head at "hows that?" he mused. "YOuHuHUr StrehehEngth!" Bucky sniggered and shook his head "Well alright then, complain to Hydra would ya?" he said and shook his head "Or of course try a little harder to shove me off, it's like you're not even fighting it"

Sam tried sending the male a heated glare, though for naught as he fell back into hysterical giggles and small cackles every now and again. Bucky looked down at his friend, the cackles made the frowns vanish, it seemed like Sam just completely forgot about his earlier issue.. his eyes fell to the mans thighs, with a knowing smirk he yanked one hand away from one of the armits and squeezed. Sam bucked with a surpised cackle "BUHUCKY!" he protested and kicked out "ThaHAhat's MIHINE!" he wheezed out through the deep hearted laughter that left his system with each squeez and scribble. Bucky smirked "I didn't say anything less." he mused. Sam patted the ground twice, making Bucky let up.

The younger gasped for air and sent the other a slightly smug glare "Oh sorry I thought you forgot which one was yours figuring how old you are you should be-HEHEY TIHIME OUHUT!" Sam exclaimed when Bucky went right back to tickling, sending goosebumps up his back and arms. "I thought I told you it wasn't wise to make such comments" bucky growled, awfully close to sams ear.

The younger giggled and leaned away, earning an amused laugh from Bucky who had only ever so rarely heard the latter giggle. "What was that?" he asked. Sam sniggered and squeezed his eyes shut. "THehe KIhids!" Bucky raised an amused eyebrow, was he blaming the children? One look over his shoulder told him yes, the kids were far off in the distance still playing with Sara.

Bucky smirked "Would be a shame if Sara knew aye?" Sam tried smaking the male, getting dodged with ease "YouHUhu Jeherk!" Bucky tased Sam's side, awfully close to the mans back "EHEHEY!" he laughed, turning towards the hand to block anymore firework like attacks. Bucky smirked and scribbled over the thin shirt on his now other side, the open back all too inviting. "AHahAHA NoooOOOhO!" The quick squeezes continued, first one side then the other, it was like the back and forth wouldn't end, and the more often it happened the more prominent those with electricy filled shocks got, and soon enough Bucky had his friend writhering and laughing his head off underneath him.

"AhAHAhahaLRIGHT! AHAHlright! YOuhuHUHU WIHIHIN!" Bucky sniggered and let up but didnt let Sam get up just yet. The supersoldier now sitting next to his friend, one leg over the mans hips. Sam sniggered and covered his slightly tinted cheeks, body relaxing into the ground "youhu suhuhuck..." Bucky chortled and looked towards the docks. "A lot better to have you laughing then sulking around and not talking." Sam looked up and the man, ever so slightly surpised by what the other just said. "Yeah well.." he huffed and looked at the leg and then Bucky, sending a daring glare "How about letting me up?"

Bucky smirked and leaned towards him, about to tell him no before Saras voice echoed over the field "FOODS READY!"

Right! The grill!

Bucky got up in an instant, brushing himself off and letting Sam, who was arguably still slightly wonky on his feet rise. "You good?" Bucky mused as he watched the male. Sam rolled his eyes and smirked back at him "Sure, you don't actually think you could take me down with a bit of tickling." Bucky grinned right back, so smugly Sam had to take a step back. "Right, and you're totally not ticklish."

The captain popped his lips and promptly left as nothing to say came to mind. Bucky laughed at the sight of his friend speed walking towards the grills. He started jogging, noticing Sam look back and send him a 'do not'. Bucky grinned and charged at his friend, earning a shriek as Sam turned around and dashed towards his sister and the kids, to safety from his teammate, friend and tickle monster.

"Uncle Sam! Uncle Bucky! Sara played totally unfair!" a child complained and Sam instantly jumped onto the topic, letting the kids lead the way to the table with food in hand. Bucky sent Sara a charming and victorious grin at which she laughed and smiled back with a shake of the head.

The afternoon went without hiccups, they chatted, played board games, normal games and all too soon the afternoon sun was setting.

Bucky and Sam bid their farwells to the families and left.

Bucky opened the front door to the house and grinned to himself "Just so you know, you're never living that down." A loud and highpitched groan came from behind him, letting him know his friends dismay.

They stepped in and as Bucky hung the keys, Sam sent him a look, it may have not been the cheer-up method he would've chosen, but he had to silently admit, it helped nonetheless. Plus, now he kinda knew where they stood, they were buddies, friends, someone he could count on even beyond the bettlefield. "How did you know about my armpits? Lucky guess?" he asked. Bucky hummed and turned to Sam "Usually people go for spots that work on themselves." he explained crutly, passing his friend and making a B line for the bathroom.

Sam hummed in understanding before freezing and looking after his friend "Wait so you're ticklish too?!" he called, not getting an answer as the door shut.

The Captain shook his head and switched his phone off. For once feeling more then just apprechiated.

[geethingy]

TLC

fandom: the falcon and the winter soldier

w/c: 1149

summary: How Sam convinced Bucky to sleep on the couch AKA Bucky is introduced to ASMR.

a/n: I love TFATWS and I want to write for them more but I cannot for the life of me think of good scenarios. Inspired by my own love hate relationship with asmr.

~~~~~~~~~

“Paid good money for that sofa you're disrespecting.”

Bucky sat up from his position on the floor. Sam's silhouette stood with crossed arms in the doorway, outlined only by the kitchen light behind him. He looked ridiculous. Bucky stretched to reach the lamp switch.

“I’m kind of an active sleeper. Figured I’d do less damage starting on the floor.” Bucky rubbed at his neck.

“Mm-hm.” Sam walked over to the couch and sat, meaning he didn't intend to let Bucky sleep just yet. “Sarah’s concerned.”

Embarrassed, Bucky dropped his hand slowly. From the moment he stepped inside the Wilson family home, he wondered if he was completely overstaying his welcome. He wouldn't have blamed them for feeling uncomfortable housing an ex-assassin. There were children in this house.

“She sent me in here to convince you to get off the damn floor. ‘C’mon Sam! Give the hobo your bed if it's better on his old joints than the couch.’ Hmph.”

Bucky smiled. “That’s kind of her.”

Sam glared at him. “Keep dreaming. You're funny if you think you're sleeping on my bed.”

Bucky shook his head with a frown. “No, the couch is comfortable. Very comfortable. Feels like I’m gonna sink right through it.”

Sam’s glaring expression changed to something more real. Was that a rude thing to say?

“Look, I get it. But you're making me look like a bad host. Sarah won't even let the cat sleep down there.” Sam said softly. “You’re just not used to feeling comfortable yet. All it takes is some TLC.”

“TLC?”

“Tender love and-”

“I know what TLC means.” Bucky said, more guarded than his therapist would have approved of. Sam was brave for this, Bucky thought. By now they had gotten comfortable, perhaps even extended their boundary past ‘a couple of guys with a mutual friend.’ They were friends, yet even so Bucky didn’t know what to do with clear affection. Sam knew this. It was brave in the same way as sticking a hand out to a dog known to bite.

Bucky sighed and looked up at Sam. “Are you offering?” he asked, genuinely.

“Just get your ass up here.” Sam said.

--

He pulled out his phone and a pair of earbuds as Bucky sat next to him.

“We can start with this.” Sam said, holding out his tools as he explained. “Have you heard of ASMR? Stands for auto sensory… something or other. People listen to it to go to sleep, sorta like whale sounds or white noise. You know how certain sounds make you go all relaxed and tingly?”

Bucky frowned, not liking how that sounded. But Sam continued with an eyeroll.

“Well, that's the gimmick. It's pretty awesome and knocks me out like a baby. Gotta be careful not to find the freaky ones, though. There are a lot of weirdos out there..” Bucky’s frown deepened skeptically.

“Man, nevermind. Just, here-”

Bucky violently ducked his head away from Sam’s hand, instantly snatching the earbud Sam started to shove into his ear. Sam chuckled, to which he scowled at.

“I don’t know about this, Sam. I'm not a big fan of…” He squinted at the title of one of the videos on Sam’s phone. “Brain tickling? That doesn’t sound relaxing at all.”

Sam reached over to tap the video immediately as Bucky made a noise of disapproval. He stood and patted Bucky’s shoulder.

“Alright, now lay back and close your eyes. Ugh.” Sam reached forward, smoothing out the dubious eyebrows on Bucky’s forehead. “Relax your damn face. Trust me, man! This stuff is powerful.”

Bucky was entirely unsure about this, as nothing about what Sam had been trying to sell sounded appealing. But because Sam was good at this sorta thing, he obliged. He laid back and shifted to get comfortable, snatching up the blanket that was on the floor with a metal hand.

He looked up at Sam, who was staring the whole time he adjusted himself.

“Are you gonna watch me sleep?”

Sam scoffed. “Sounds exhilarating. Sleep tight, Buck.” He switched off the lamp for Bucky, and left him alone with the ASMR.

As the video played, Bucky was caught off guard by the quality of the sounds.

There was a sweet spot in Bucky’s lower back he hadn't known about. And for reasons unbeknownst to him, the amplified scratching sounds coming from the video ignited the nerves in the same spot. Over and over again. He felt ridiculous for flinching, but he could hardly control it.

skrich skrich skrichskrichskrich.

It sounded like it was right behind him. His eyebrows pinched together in discomfort. He surprised himself by not throwing the earbuds across the room.

As weird as it was, it was also kind of nice. A tingle would start at the base of his skull, before shooting down that dip in his back. Relaxing chills overtook Bucky’s body after each ticklish pulse that sparked his spine. He found himself embracing the sounds and their unbearable, incredible effect. It reminded him of nails on his back, a sensation he had trouble remembering with how long it had been since he received such tender treatment. But he knew it was enjoyable. Even when the nails strayed to spots that were too sensitive to stay still for.

Bucky couldn't stop the smile that followed after the next jolt, so powerful it made his leg jump. Like when you pet a dog just right. He wondered if this ASMR garnered the same reactions from Sam. If that was why he liked it so much.

A laugh startled Bucky to open his eyes. He thought it might have come from himself until his eyes adjusted to the darkness. His face flushed as he tore the earbuds out of his ear.

“How long were you standing there, you creep?” Bucky asked, worried about how much Sam might have seen - and clocked.

“Just came out for a bit to see if it already put you to sleep. Looks like you were loving it.” Sam said, grinning. There was no judgement in his tone, only teasing. Bucky can handle teasing.

“It's nice. It’s freaky, but it's nice. I was almost asleep till you came back out.” Bucky said accusingly. Sam started to say something back, an apology about interrupting his tickle-time, but Bucky wisely put the earbuds back in and flipped over on the couch to ignore him completely.

“Alright alright. Get your beauty sleep, White Wolf.” Before finally leaving him alone for the night, Sam fluttered his nails up and down Bucky’s exposed back and neck. He shrugged him off with a giggle-laced fuck off.

“Goodnight Sam,” he called out before he shut his bedroom door. “Thanks.”

[valiantphantomangel]

The best Christmas ever.

"Reindeer Games!! the lights have to be at least six inches away from each other!" Tony shrieked as he nearly ran into Steve who was carrying in another christmas tree with Bucky.

The sixth christmas tree in the freaking living room!

"Calm down man of iron" Loki grumbled as he pulled the lights further apart with the help of Natasha.

"Do you not know how to hang ornaments"?! Iron man freaked as he turned the small ball a few degrees the other way "go you disgust me"! He yelled at Sam before chasing after him with his small note book.

"Yep he's definitely gone insane" Natasha said with a nod as she and Loki climbed down from the ceiling where the lights hang.

"I have to agree with Lady Natasha" Thor mused while he made sure the lights were secured tightly.

"Who even put him in charge?" Rogers asked as he pushed the christmas tree upright.

"you did Cap" Clint said with a laugh from the vents where he was keeping watch so you wouldn't walk in on them decorating yet.

"...Right"

just then Peter literally fell from the ceiling with a shriek leaving Loki to catch him and put him back on his feet "Y/N is in the elevator to this floor"!!

Since it was a surprise that they were decorating the tower to give you the best Christmas ever, Loki quickly cast a spell to make all the decorations go invisible and they all dived into a hiding spot.

Somehow Sam managed to dive almost on top of Bucky who let out a groan and shoved him off "Damm it Samuel"!

Everyone shushed him and stayed hidden just as the elevator doors opened, you walked out with your headphones on listening to music and walked into the kitchen to grab some left over pizza.

"we need to distract her until we are done" Nat whispered to Loki as they sat crouched behind a couch.

"I'll distract her, you guys finish decorating" He whispered back with a grin, being the God of mischief and lies gave him quite the advantage on knowing your ticklish little secret and he was more then happy to finally use it.

Loki stood up and walked up behind you, tapping you on the shoulder and successfully making you jump in fright.

"Jesus Christ Loki! You scared the living daylights out of me" You said with a hand on your heart as you took off your headphones.

"My apologies, i simply wanted to ask if I could retrieve my book from your room?" He said hiding his grin.

"Yeah of course, I'll show you where it is" you said with a nod and walked off with your plate of pizza after kicking the fridge door shut.

Loki trailed behind you as you both stepped into your room, but before you could utter 'abracadabra' he tackled into your bed and pinned you underneath him.

"Loki what the hell" you said confused which quickly turned into a surprised giggle when he traced your ribs.

"Sorry for the scare darling, it's just that I heard some interesting information about you" He said with a mischief smirk as he continued to trace your ribs and tummy.

"And what would that behihihi?" you giggle nervously.

"Sargeant Barnes told me about your little ticklish secret" Loki mused as he ghost tickled your tummy which sent chills all over since you were incredibly sensitive.

Your eyes widen before bursting out in giggles as you trashed around, he dug into your ribs and softly traced your tummy at the same time, driving you into madness.

"NOT THEREHIHIHIHIHI" you screamed in laughter as you arched your back to escape him which only gave him more access to your sides.

"Then I'll just switch places love" Loki grinned as he scratched lightly over your neck before suddenly blowing a raspberry on your tummy.

"GHAHHAHAHHAHA" you laughed loudly until your laugh turned silent and he let up, pulling you up to lay your head on his chest.

"Shall we watch some movies for the rest of the afternoon love?" He asked as he played with your hair.

You hummed in agreement as you settled against him, curling up content.

And that's how the afternoon went, every time you tried to get up to grab something from the kitchen Loki latched onto your sides and reduced you into a giggly mess to keep you in your room.

When it got dark Steve and Tony walked in, smiling when they saw you two.

"Come on kid, we have a surprise" Tony said as he pulled you to your feet and guided you out of the room with his hands over your eyes, the other two quickly following to make sure you didn't fall.

After an interesting walk downstairs (Tony almost walked you straight into a wall and got his head smacked for it) you arrived in what you believed was the living room.

Tony took his hands from your eyes and you gasped.

The entire room was full with lights of all colours and in every corner stood a christmas tree, which was decorated to perfection with presents underneath it, you looked up and saw even more fairy lights around the ceiling. It was absolutely stunning.

A smile made its way to your lips as happy tears gathered in your eyes, you felt a pair of arms around you and soon you were engulfed by the team.

"You guys did all this?" You asked as you wiped your tears away.

"Of course we did, we wanted to make this your best ever christmas" Nat smiled as she threw her arm around your shoulders.

"Why?"

"Because we wanted to make you feel at home, loved and happy, we knew how much christmas means to you" Clint said as he appeared next to you.

"Well you guys certainly made that happen" you chuckle as you still looked around in wonder.

"Merry Christmas Y/N" Bucky said with a soft smile.

"Merry Christmas, you guys are the best family I could've asked for" You smiled brightly and you were once again engulfed by the team.

It was safe to say that this was the BEST christmas ever!!

[writingfics-passingtime]

Gentle

pairing: Loki x female reader

synopsis: You don't think you're ticklish. Loki offers to prove you wrong.

word count: ~3500

warnings: lots of swearing, sexual tension, suggestive jokes and innuendo, possessive!Loki, minor violence (training sparring)

minors dni: this work does not contain smut, but does contain a sexually-charged relationship between the reader and an adult-aged character. I am not comfortable with engagement from anyone under the age of 18. Thank you for your understanding and respect.

note: This fic is for all the people who aren't affected by rough and tumble tickling. Who know that gentle can still be ruthless. I see you.

Sam was grounded.

So while he was strong, fast, and stubborn, he didn't have his wings. No aerial advantage.

And you were sharper. You moved with practiced ease, letting him tire himself out as he swung and lunged across the sunken sparring pit, meeting his strikes with sidesteps, well-placed counters, and a smirk you hoped was infuriating.

He went for your ribs.

You caught his wrist. Twisted. Used that leverage to hook your legs around him, then used his thrown balance to send him down.

His back hit the mat with a solid thud.

For a moment, he just blinked up at you, winded and momentarily stunned.

You grinned, settling your weight on top of him, knee digging into his ribs just hard enough to remind him who the boss was. "Tell me," you mused, "who did you say was getting their ass handed to them today?"

Sam huffed, mouth pursing into something half-annoyed, half-amused. "Yeah, screw you."

You arched a brow. "Not much of an apology."

His jaw tensed, eyes narrowing. A second’s hesitation. You pounced.

Your fingers slipped under his ribs, pressing just enough-

"Shit!"

Your smirk quickly became a grin.

A choked laugh ripped out of him before he could stop it. He bucked violently, twisting beneath you as laughter tore through him like he’d been struck by lightning.

Your hand followed wherever he turned. "Something wrong, Wilson?"

"You demon-" He twisted again, finally using sheer force to throw you off. You hit the mat with a sharp roll over your shoulder, coming up to your feet in a fluid motion, laughing as he swore under his breath, breathless.

You two weren't the only ones laughing.

Thor chuckled, amused. Bucky smirked, arms crossed. Steve shook his head, exasperated. And Loki...

Loki was watching you like a cat watching a caged bird.

He tilted his head, eyes sharp, lips lifting in a slow, knowing smirk. "That," he said, "seems like an extraordinarily reckless tactic to introduce."

You dusted your hands off. "How so?"

Loki’s smirk widened. He took the bait. "Because every person in this room is stronger than you. And now you’ve gone and planted a very particular idea in their minds."

His gaze dragged over you, slow and deliberate. You crossed your arms, lifting that same brow in challenge. Giving him space to continue monologuing.

"I mean, really," he mused in a silken voice, "do you truly want to tempt fate by giving them the notion to simply hold you down and take their revenge?"

The air shifted, and you held back your confident smirk, just to play with him a bit. "They're welcome to try."

Bucky stepped forward, rolling his shoulders. "It's futile." He shot you a begrudging look. "We learned a long time ago - she’s not ticklish."

Sam snorted. "Yeah, and it’s annoying as hell. Not many ways to get her back for all that sass."

You shot him a sly smile.

Loki made a sound in his throat - amused, unimpressed. "You’re wrong."

Your eyes slid back to him, fixing him with a look. "Wrong? I'm not ticklish, Loki."

Loki’s lips curled into a smirk. “Yes, you are.”

Tense silence fell upon the room as the others turned to Loki, confused, silently hoping.

The moment stretched, electric.

Smirking eye contact, the crackle of something just shy of violent, just shy of something else.

You squinted. "I'm not lying. I've never been ticklish. Ask anyone in here."

“Hmm, I'm sure they have tried with their clumsy mortal hands,” he murmured, voice low, rich, laced with wicked amusement. “I, however..." His smirk grew downright devious. "I could take you apart without breaking a sweat.”

Your stomach did something sharp and treacherous. The heat in your face spread down your neck before you could help it.

Sam snorted. “Oh my god.”

Bucky shook his head, muttering something under his breath. Steve exhaled through his nose, clearly regretting his life choices.

You, however, refused to flinch.

“Yeah, right.”

Loki chuckled, slow and dark.

“I’ll gladly prove it,” he insisted, voice a lazy taunt, “as soon as you’re not afraid to submit to it."

The words pushed like a slow blade between your ribs. The challenge, goading you to agree to being pinned and tested, for him to catalogue your responses. It’s not like he was going to succeed in tickling you, but submit?

No way in hell.

Your mouth parted in a scoff, heat flushing your neck, your cheeks, something sharp already forming on your tongue-

“Okay, this,” Sam interrupted, pointing one hand at each of you, “is the one of most sexual things I’ve ever seen in my life, and I once walked in on Thor oiling himself up for battle.”

You lunged.

Sam yelped, dodging back, but before you could reach him, a familiar arm hooked around your waist, effortlessly hauling you back onto the mat.

Bucky didn’t even flinch. “Easy, killer."

Loki chuckled, low and pleased, as you pushed Bucky's arm away.

“I do so enjoy this part,” the god mused.

You exhaled sharply, still flushed, still coiled tight with something restless and unsatisfied. You took the bait. “What part?”

His gaze flicked to yours, amused, knowing. “The part where you pretend to be annoyed.”

The others snorted.

Your mouth opened, but before you could fire back, Loki winked, turned, and made to leave.

Something in you rebelled.

“Hey!" You called after him. "Come put your money where your mouth is, Your Highness."

Loki stopped.

He exhaled a low, dark chuckle, then, slowly, began rolling up the sleeves of his tunic, baring forearms lined with lean, deceptive strength.

“I didn't think,” he murmured, “you'd want an audience for what’s about to transpire.”

Sam made a strangled noise. “I hate this. I hate this weird foreplay.”

Thor’s booming laugh filled the room.

"Of course I want an audience," you hummed, ignoring the riffraff. "I want them all to witness you making a fool of yourself." You stepped back onto the mat, uncrossing your arms, opening your stance. "But I’m not submitting. If you want me at your mercy, you’ll have to earn it.”

Loki turned back, and - lazily, deliberately, with a smirk that was pure sin - prowled toward you. “Very well,” he purred with a tilt of his head. “Let’s play.”

But the moment his feet hit the mat, you got the sinking feeling that you'd just walked into a trap.

You’d never sparred with Loki before. Hell, you’d never even seen him fight outside of an actual battlefield, where his chaos and skill blurred the line between strategy and sheer fucking audacity.

But now, circling each other under the dim gym lights, with him as your adversary, you saw raw, precise power coiled beneath his deliberate movements, waiting to unravel.

His stance was fluid, deceptively relaxed. Beautiful, cocky bastard. Every shift of his weight, every flicker of his gaze, calculated. You could tell he was watching you, reading you, in a way that made heat lick at the base of your spine. And deep in your belly.

So you lunged first.

In the blink of an eye, he dodged, slipping around your advance like a fast-flowing stream through your fingers, barely exerting any effort. Your body twisted, adjusting on instinct, throwing your weight into a feint before coming back around, aiming for his side.

But again, he was faster.

Loki flowed around your strike like water, his arm shooting out with lightning precision. You barely registered the movement before his palm landed solidly against your ribs - not with brute force, but a firm, pointed push, sending you stumbling off balance.

You caught yourself, breath coming sharp through your nose. He stood there, utterly at ease, watching you with a glint of amusement.

Smug, infuriatingly hot, cocky bastard.

You exhaled. Steady.

Regrouping, you moved again, but this time, you were smarter - testing- feeling out the way he reacted. The next time he dodged, you anticipated it, twisting mid-motion and using his own momentum against him, catching his arm and yanking.

It almost worked.

The instant you felt his weight shift, you knew - he’d let you do that.

You barely had time to react before he countered, twisting with impossible grace, his body moving like an under-sea shadow. You felt it before you saw it.

His hands on you.

Turning.

Your feet ripped out from under you.

The mat met your chest with a harsh thud, your breath shooting out of your lungs in a rush.

Your wrists flexed, instinctively pushing to lift yourself up - except one of them wasn’t moving. Something heavy and warm pressed you down.

Your pulse jumped.

Loki was above you, his thighs caging your hips, one hand securing your wrist above your head. Your left side was left exposed, vulnerable. You snuck a glance at the rest of the team - on your... right - he chose to test the side they couldn't see. Why?

There were more important matters to tend to.

You struggled, but his grip was like iron, pressing your wrist into the mat, keeping your body still beneath his. The sheer weight of him was suffocating, and intoxicating, his lean muscle like warm steel.

The sound of your panting filled the space between you as you used your free hand to push against his knee, against the mat, to try and pry his hand off your wrist.

Nothing budged. Nothing. Especially not you.

So, finally, you gave up the fight, relaxing underneath him, letting your forehead fall to the mat as the others chuckled on the sidelines.

A low, satisfied, hum rumbled from his chest.

You clenched your jaw, ignoring the way the heat from his body seemed to sink into yours. “Yeah, whatever. You're a thousand-year-old god, of course you're gonna win."

Loki chuckled. And that sound - deep, smug, thoroughly entertained - was infuriating.

You scoffed, and gave a snarky chuckle, lazing your head to the side, not the slightest bit concerned. "Well, go on. Do what you need to do. All of these guys have tried, failed, and reaped the embarrassment of prodding my stomach while I stare them down. Your turn."

"My turn," he repeated in a low, heat, murmur that made your neck prickle. "They’ve all tried, have they?"

His eyes flicked toward the others - Bucky, Sam, Steve, Thor - still watching with rapt attention.

"I'm guessing they wrestled you, pinned you," Loki mused, "and I imagine they grabbed at your waist, or jammed their fingers clumsily under your arms, yes?"

Your stomach clenched at the cool, casual confidence in his voice.

His head dipped lower, lips brushing just past your ear.

"But no one's ever been gentle with you, have they?"

The implication landed hot in your stomach. With that tone, he definitely wasn't just talking about tickling.

"I don’t need gentle," you gritted out, feeling the heat creep up your neck.

Loki hummed again. And then -

A single touch.

Soft. Featherlight. Unfamiliar.

A slow, wandering drag of fingertips under the hem of your shirt, gliding over your side with aching delicacy.

An involuntary shudder rippled through you, sparkling sensation travelling up your neck, down your hip.

Your breath hitched.

Loki’s low chuckle vibrated against your back.

“Oh, my. Was that a reaction?"

You tested your wrist again, his grip didn’t budge. Iron.

“I-” You wet your lips, breathing out a nervous chuckle. Steady... “If this is tickling, why do people react to it so violently? Sam practically-”

The words died in your throat as his fingers slipped higher.

A slow, agonisingly light scratching at your ribcage.

Your body shifted before you even realised. Some strange, new sensation bloomed alive beneath your skin - an almost electric tingle, sharp and shivery, not... uncomfortable but not something you could control.

You winced, feeling your own muscles betray you, your arm instinctively trying to pull down. Your brow furrowed.

Silence from the others.

Your pulse pounded as you turned your head and met their confused stares and raised brows.

Loki’s voice dipped lower. “Tell me,” he whispered, dark and taunting, “what do you feel?”

You swallowed. Your breath was unsteady. “I don’t know, I-”

You barely got the words out before his fingers slipped higher, that damnably light touch moving quicker, scraping against your skin and nerves-

A sensation erupted.

Your body jerked.

A strangled noise caught in your throat - somewhere between a gasp and a sound you’d never made before - bubbling up.

No.

No fucking way.

Your fingers dug into the mat. Heat roared through your veins, panic flickering, because something strange was happening. Your body was reacting. Your breath hitching, catching, some kind of force simmering deep in your lungs-

“What the hell are you doing to me?” you demanded, voice breathless, confused, desperate.

Loki only laughed, dark and rich, and said, “Proving a point.”

And then he picked up the speed.

A choked, gasping giggle burst out of you before you could stop it.

Your eyes widened.

The others on the sidelines looked gobsmacked.

The sensation grew, intensified, as Loki’s fingers didn’t stop.

You twisted violently, struggling under him, but his weight was unforgiving, his grip relentless.

Your lips parted, a stream of breathless giggles slipping free.

Oh, fuck.

Your body shuddered as his fingers skimmed higher, up to the skin stretched over the centre of your ribcage-

Your head hit the mat as laughter was yanked out of you. Your legs kicked, trying to gain traction, but Loki only chuckled at your useless attempts.

“Wait- fucking- you-"

“Well,” Loki purred, so fucking pleased with himself, “Not ticklish, was it?”

The laughter ripped through your throat, unrelenting, spilling out in gasping waves as Loki’s damnable fingers continued their excruciatingly light torment. The others on the sidelines cheered in pure delight as you laughed and laughed and twisted and squirmed.

But there was no escape.

No amount of tensing, no desperate attempts to throw him off, could do anything against his sheer strength and control. His weight pressed you into the mat, keeping you exactly where he wanted, his hand moving with deadly precision - every stroke of his fingertips dragging something shivery and unbearable from your skin.

Bucky's surprised scoff cut across your struggling. "Well I'll be."

"All this time, huh?" Steve huffed a laugh through his nose.

"Oh, you are definitely getting it from me," Sam's chortling threat made you turn your head away, back to where only Loki could see your profile.

Gods, Loki.

This wasn’t the clumsy, forceful jabbing of a sparring partner trying to elicit a reaction.

This... this was deliberate. Skilled. Loki had found something new in you, and he was taking his time exploring it.

And the worst part?

The heat.

The deep, simmering pull in your stomach had nothing to do with his magic and everything to do with the way his body pinned yours, the warmth of his breath, the slow, dangerous way he was learning you.

You were done for.

“Now,” Loki called to the others, voice smooth and pleased and maddeningly composed over your breathless gasps, “what exactly should I be dishing out punishment for? As long as you all have tales of her misdeeds…”

His fingers fluttered along your ribs, light and delicate, dragging over the hyper-sensitive skin. Your body seized with a squeal, then a sharp, gasping laugh.

“…I’ll keep going.”

The traitorous bastards on the sidelines did not hesitate.

“How much time you got?” Sam called, laughing.

"She replaced the protein powder with flour," Bucky offered. "Had us all drinking sludge in our shakes for days until we realised."

Loki hummed in amusement. "Clever." His fingers never stopped - the feathery, unbearable strokes at your lower ribs making your body tremble under him.

"Last week she convinced Thor that the Alexa was not only a real person, but 'Midgard's Only Goddess.'" Sam snorted. "Had Thor trying to win her favour for hours."

Loki chuckled, shaking his head as though deeply ashamed of you. His fingers slid higher up your ribs, the change in focus so sudden it made your breath hitch violently - your body arching before you could stop it.

"Oh, that’s good," Sam laughed. "Keep her goin', we got more."

"She told the new recruits that I get my hair done at a salon called ‘Thunder Struck,’" Thor added, betrayal in his voice. "The rumours-"

"-are completely true," you gasped, still somehow defiant through the breathless laughter spilling out of you.

Loki sighed in faux fatigue. "A habitual liar, too. Unfortunate." His fingers shifted again, this time creeping into the soft space under your arm-

Your laughter folded into silence.

A sharp, breathless inhale was all you could manage, body seizing as your nerves exploded with sensation. Your free hand slammed into the mat, trying to brace yourself.

Loki noticed.

“Oh,” he purred, sounding far too satisfied. His fingers didn’t move, just rested there, as if savouring the way you tensed beneath him. “I see.”

Your eyes widened. Somehow, you knew what was coming.

“I believe,” he murmured darkly, “I’ve found the perfect place for my discipline.”

His fingers twitched.

A sharp, shuddering noise burst out of you.

Then he started moving.

Slow. Dragging.

Your body jolted before you could stop it, a sharp, helpless squirm beneath him. Your breath hitched violently in your throat, trying to hold in the laughter- you couldn’t let him win-

His fingers curled against your skin in a perfectly devastating way, grazing soft circles in the deepest, most vulnerable part of that untouched nerve space, and the laughter broke out of you in an uncontrollable rush.

Loki sighed, as if he were so terribly disappointed.

“What was it you called me last week?” he mused, tracing, scratching, slow, taunting circles over every tormenting inch. “Ah, yes - ‘horny Shakespeare?’”

You shrieked. Your trapped hand trembling into a fist, tears of mirth threatening hot behind your eyes.

The others roared with laughter.

“Or was it-” He shifted, pressing in closer, lips brushing against your burning ear, voice dripping with amusement, “-‘overgrown magician with daddy issues’?”

You shrieked again, laughter breaking apart into gasping, desperate protests.

“Oh, I rather like this one-” His fingers swirled, still unbearably light, sweeping quickly over the taut skin. “You said I ‘probably cry after sex.’”

“I TAKE IT BACK-”

Loki laughed, dark and dangerous, sitting back up as his fingers scraped gently, just enough to send fire through your nerves, to make your laughter break, to send your legs kicking uselessly against the mat.

"Ah, and my favourite," Loki continued, relentless, "-you looked me dead in the eyes, in front of the entire team, and asked me if my horns were, in fact, just overcompensation for something far more-"

He was cut off when his fingers stroked, just so, against the place just below your arm where your ribcage ended, and laughter tore through you, something wrecked in your voice, your body shaking against his.

"Oh, you didn't like that, did you?" he soothed in mock sympathy before his voice gave way to a dark, sensuous chuckle.

"Loki- PLEASE!"

You had never begged before.

But you'd never been ticklish before.

And Loki - Loki fucking knew.

His chuckle returned as his hand slowed to a stop, fingers still perched threateningly as your ragged breath expelled beneath him.

"Did you hear that, gentlemen?" Your chest heaved, body shaking from the sheer force of it all, something deeply unsettled in your bones as his palm smoothed down your side, lingering before his fingers tightened at your hip, his grip possessive. "I do believe our dear girl has finally learned some manners."

Your entire body burned.

Then, Loki pushed off, moving effortlessly to his feet as if the last five minutes hadn’t utterly destroyed you.

True to his word, he hadn't broken a sweat.

You barely managed to push yourself onto your knees, your body unsteady, your breathing still laboured.

"Wait, hold up," Sam interrupted, holding a hand towards you. "Loki, you gotta show us how to do that."

Loki stiffened. It was barely noticeable. A flicker. A shift in the air.

And then - smooth as ever, with an icy calm that sent a clear warning, "I used magic," he said, holding up a hand with fingertips glowing green. "You are not capable, and you should not try."

You looked up, saw the chilled death in his stare that bored into Sam.

Liar.

That's why he chose to test the side no one else can see; he didn't want anyone else knowing how to undo you.

And everyone knew it. The implication was clear:

Back off.

Sam held up his hands immediately. "Alright, damn. Not trying to start an intergalactic incident."

The tension in the room eased as you caught your breath, but the tension inside you only burned hotter.

Loki turned and met your gaze with something solemn in his expression, something dark and wanting... protective.

Something only for you.

And fuck, you were both done for.

.

.

[silver-inked-quill]

The Falcon and the Owl

Pairing: Sam Wilson x Reader!Stark Word count: 2377 Summary: reader and Sam meet at the party during age of Ultron and flirt when there’s a fight Sam saves reader’s life.

I was never an official avenger thanks to my brother, Tony, I didn’t care that much after a point. I had taken an noticeable part in the SHIELD as a manager of the Stark Industries and the main graphist designer for my brother’s crazy ideas. I was a doctor in reality with love of experimenting in genetics, Nick Fury was particularly interested in my love for that subject and had me in the helicarrier many times…

Tonight though, it was a day off. It had been a hard mission for the avengers and they needed a small soiree so I contacted Maria Hill and James Rhodes and had it arranged immediately, calling  the closest of the fellow heroes that saved the world last year. I was fixing the cava carefully as the guests began to arrive.

I was sitting at the top of the stairs leaned on a pillar with a glass of rum staring down at the party, I liked that everyone was having fun. I saw my brother with Thor they were speaking and giggling as Nat was serving them, there was Helen with Rhodey speaking as Banner approached Nat in the bar. Clint was with Maria and Happy laughing and drinking beers.

“How come you hosted a party Steve, didn’t know Avengers were a social club.” Sam joked, I didn’t flinch it wasn’t polite to listen to conversations you weren’t included.

“We had a tough week, so Dr. Stark made this surprise for us.” Steve approached me and turned down to me. “Why are you sitting here…?” he asked me and smiled down at me.

“I am spectating the children Steve, making sure they are having fun.” I smiled back at him. “So children… are you having fun?” I asked and turned at the two.

“Are you sure avengers ain’t a social club?” he asked and turned at me confused.

“Steve… look down there…” I pointed to the floor he looked confused and did stare at where I was showing him. “You dropped your manners, because you didn’t  introduce us…” I joked and Sam laughed while Steve rolled his eyes and nudged my side. I laughed and slapped his hand, he knew I was ticklish.

“I assumed you knew him since you invited him…” Steve spoke and looked between us. Sam turned at me to see what I would reply.

“To be honest he doesn’t ring a bell.” I spoke up and looked at him. I tried to be as indifferent as I could, I do not know why…

“That’s a first, people usually remember me, especially women.” Sam responded with a smile, it was a funny smile.

“I like your confidence… but I still do not recall your name.” I reminded him, I just  had the need to get over confident and self aware people a bit off their little cute castle of confidence… that’s what childhood trauma smells like, with a brilliant minded brother like Tony.

“Sam Wilson, Trauma counselor and pararescue Jumper U.S. air force… and very charmed” Sam spoke bowing lightly and looked at me with a playful gaze. I held back a chuckle, it was a natural response when people were matching my sass and weren’t awkward or scared of how I responded. Steve had left us alone and I didn’t realize when it happened.

“Nice to meet you Samuel, I am Y/N, Y/N Stark. Co- Owner Graphic Manger in Stark Industries, Neurosurgeon, Shield agent in the science department… PhD in Metropolitan college at Pathology.” I introduced myself and smiled at him cocky, he was taller than me even though I was wearing heels, for a moment I saw Tony’s gaze over at me but I turned my back.

“Ah, is that all?” Sam asked and looked at me, taking a sip from his drink.

“No there are more. I just don’t want you to feel bad.” I spoke up coldly my gaze looked at him trying to not look at him, with a polite and slightly amused smirk, he seemed to enjoy it. I was enjoying it…

“Oh do tell, Perhaps I will  visit a Trauma Counselor afterwards” Sam joked back and I raised my eyebrows at his responses.

“I happen to be a Forensic Genetist from the SHIELD academy and a teacher for Russian… I also speak Italian Greek and French… and I paint in my free time.” I added and sipping my glass of wine elegantly. “I’ll cover the expenses if you are feeling overshadowed I smiled but I got serious clutching my head as I heart a high pitched frequency as if electrified cables were on contact.

“Are you alright…?” Sam asked me his hand gently touching my forearm, I turned down stairs at my brother, he looked buzzed as well but he kept talking with the people at the small lounge.

“Yes, i am but-Oh…” I spoke and looked at my original design working. “Ultron…” I murmured as the robot stumbled, Sam was dragging me slowly closer to the rest as I was staring at it, it’s a bad habit I had… it was a magical feeling see my designs alive and walking every time Tony created something I designed I was swallowed by this feeling of satisfaction, he looked good and he would look even better with the final designs and the color it would look even better than before.

“Mhm- Some dreams, gotta kill the other one-.” The robot mumbled in low volume, he grabbed his head, Sam had me moving backwards slowly. “He was a good guy…” he said and turned at us.

“You killed someone…” Steve asked, I hadn’t realized how close to the rest we were;

“How did you activate yourself- You weren’t even half built.” I asked and looked at it.

“The other guy helped me… He was a good guy.” He responded again, it was as if we had an actual conversation

“Who sent you?” Thor asked, staring at it like death, the tension in all of them was giving me the chills, even Tony seemed anxious on the matter.

“What do you plan on doing?” my voice was heard, it was a recording the robot was playing it. “I see armors all over the world” then it was my brother’s voice.

“Yltron…” Bruce realized and stared at my brother…

“In the flesh…” the robot spoke and excuse me was that sarcasm I heard in his tone, other than coldness and reality. “Well not yet… Not like that, I have some updates to perform and a new body, the one mother designed for me… Its under construction, the other guy gave me the blueprints.” He said and turned to me.

I heard clicking, agents preparing their guns… “Jarvis…” I whispered, it was the man that raised me when my parents passed away Tony was 21 and I was 14, Jarvis was our butler, he was named after him since AI Jarvis was our baby sitter.

“I am on a mission, Peace at our time.” He said and the walls of the lab behind him broke by my brother’s flying suits that started shooting at us. Sam got my waist and pulled me behind the table Steve flipped as he was swiped away.

“Stay here- you’ll be-“ Sam was to say looking down at me as I raised my dress and took out the small knife I hid to my thigh.

“I’ll be safe- I know, I didn’t mention gymnastics before huh?” I asked and raised my head from the side, he pushed me down by my shoulder as there was a shot towards me.

“You look like you don’t know it thoughj. It’s a knife Y/N how will you fight robots with that. scratch the tin cans?” he asked me infuriated by what he translated as ignorance and recklessness.

“Well, I am a scientist Wilson I know how to disable them… I only need something sharp, other than your jaw.” I said, hopefully the flirting would manipulate him into letting me do what I want.  Rhodes slid down the stairs to get to us, as I waved at him. But before he could reach us a suit blasted him, “James” I exclaimed and looked at that way.

Sam turned to help him but a suit snatched him, he was trying to make it to let him be but as he mentioned this was not human, he seemed to struggle. “Y/N don’t do it” he spoke as I was already climbing up stairs to get on to higher ground and tossed my heels aside.

“Tony cable color.” I exclaimed jumping over the railings. My hands and legs hugged the back of the robot as I shoved the knife between the neck and the clavicle, it was one of the two vulnerable spots I left.

“Damn you Y/N what are you doing! Ugh… Black and white…” Tony spoke his eyes pinned on me as Maria Hill pushed him aside…

“Get off of it, I got this!” Sam groaned, still held firmly by the evil robots.

“You really don’t look like you are enjoying yourself Wilson and I intend to alter that.” I spoke, my voice heavy as  was trying to find the cable my brother said, once I shoved the knife in the thin opening the armor allowed Sam to fall and smashed me to the wall- I felt the air move out of my lungs as we the hand it grasped my neck and brought me to the front. I was squirming- couldn’t breath- I saw Sam jump over it and finish my job.

I fell to the ground, as Sam landed on top of the robot, I turned over and saw Helen, hiding behind the piano and I ran towards her when a robot was right above us, I got in front of Helen- then I thought… I am unarmed, I cover her with myself when Steve came right in front of me to do the same- When the robot was to shoot Clint got the shield and tossed it to him protecting us... and then throwing it to Thor who smashed it.

“That was dramatic, I know you mean well. You just didn’t think it through…You want to protect the world but you do not want it to change…” Ultron said and I slowly stood up, I wanted to take a closer look at him, at the design at the way he was standing and functioning, he wasn’t even ready. I walked passed Steve, he didn’t seem to pay much attention to me but Sam did and held my forearm so I would stay in place. “How can you expect a world to be safe if It is not allowed to evolve.” He added and turned, his shiny blue eyes evolving around us. “There’s only one path to peace. Tony was next to me as Sam was holding me back… “The avengers extinction.” The robot growled and turned his shooters at me, I gasped and Tony dragged me behind him before, a second later, Mjonir, was smashing him into the wall…

Sam and Tony turned at me at the same time “Are you okay?” they asked all at once and looked at me concerned before turning to each other, Sam raised his brows while Tony was frowning at him. “Are you okay?” Sam ignored him looking at me. “As I mentioned I know how to take care of myself… you on the other hand need stitches.” I noticed, my throat was sore but I didn’t like looking weak. Only Tony would ever meet this side of me…

“Oh- you noticed… I knew you couldn’t take your eyes off of me.” Sam spoke and winked as he raised his sleeve gently. I iodine and took the needle on the small pair of scissors as I sat down. I was gently stitching him up.

“I can take my eyes of off you now if you want.” I smiled, my gaze was looking at him, to his wound to be precise, I felt my hands shake gently but I ignored it.

“No please.” Sam chuckled and looked at me. I didn’t avert my gaze from my motions though… “You don’t seem as confident as before… I shall remind you my trauma counselor expertise…” Sam spoke and looked at me he held my wrist as I was finishing with his stitches.

“Do not worry about my mental health… Worry about your general health in case you don’t take me out on a date…” I spoke and swallowed.

“Oh- I may be curious on what you’ll do if I don’t do so…” Sam said and approached his face towards me, we were only a breath away but I didn’t flinch. I only stared at him.

“Trust me dearest, you do not desire to witness the ruthless side of me.” I smiled and patted his cheek with my hand and turned my back to leave, but he held my wrist. I paused and didn’t look at him.

“I could call you if you give me your number” Sam spoke, his voice wasn’t funny like before.

“Look for it I do not know it.” I responded and removed my hand from his grip…

I walked further inside the lab, Dr. Banner was coming out as I walked in to see my brother looking there straight faced. His gaze blank. “Jarvis…” I whispered, it was our cute little invasion, he was making all the algorithms while I was trying to give him an appearance, I was 19 and Tony was 26…

Tony’s gaze was raised upon me, he surveyed me for two full moments before he came and pulled me in a hug. “What were you thinking jumping to that armor?” he asked me and cupped my face, he raised my chin up wards to take a look at my neck. “They left a mark…” he sighed and looked into my eyes.

I couldn’t hide from my brother no matter how hard I tried… he was always able to read me. My eyes shone as I looked up at him. I simply sobbed a bit before he pulled me in a hug. “Does it hurt?” he asked me and I nodded looking at him... He kissed my forehead…

[amazingmsme]

out of pure curiosity who is/are your favorite character(s) to write tkl content for? :]

Aw this is really sweet! Honestly, it chances with the seasons. It ebbs & flows, like the tides

A few years ago, Tony Stark was a big favorite, along with Sam Wilson & Bucky Barnes. & Peter Parker for the clout, I knew if I wrote anything with him it would pop off & it did

& then umbrella academy & the witcher came along, & I absolutely adored writing Jaskier & Klaus getting wrecked, they were the pandemic blorbos for me

Now I’m still deep in the critickle role fandom, specifically the mighty nein & Caleb is my most favorite man to see get destroyed. He’s so sad & grumpy & I just need him to smile & laugh himself silly! Honestly Fjord is another one I really need to write more of, he’s canonically ticklish wtf have I been doing? (Writing other things, slaving away at college, graduating, etc.)

Now that I’m aware there’s actually people in the t community who are into Hatchetfield stuff, they’re all at the top of my list! I’ve been holding back for so long because I thought it was just me & a tube sock, but no, there’s actually people who want to read it!! So I’m gonna say both Spankoffski bros, Steph, Paul & Emma, & the lib (yes all of them) but literally everyone from any of these shows ever, I’m so obsessed with them all I just didn’t wanna look too crazy listing every single character

I also really really loved writing Jon Sims getting wrecked in the 2 fics I did with him for tickletober & I plan on making more when I finish the podcast

With the first season of hazbin hotel out on amazon, I’m also gonna say I have a lot of fun writing for both Angel & Alastor. Their accents are so much fun to imagine while writing them & I just really love their vibe! & they’re both a different brand of asshole, but both need to get wrecked as an attitude adjustment

I have so many characters from smaller fandoms or ones I just haven’t written for yet that I’d love to write for! Eiffel from wolf 359 is at the tippy top of that list, he is THE poor meow meow ok he uses humor & references to cope but he’s so sad!

I’d also really like to write for Black Beard, he needs to be wrecked to hell & back

Dr. Flug from villainous is soooo lee coded ok I need to do SOMETHING for that show!

I’m gonna sound real fuckin’ basic for a sec, but Jax from tadc. He’s such a bitch he needs to be put in his place & I need to be the one to put him there! Also Ragatha, I love her so much & just want to see her happy! Also Gangle because she just seems so sweet & sad & needs a good cheering up!

[ao3feed-peterparker]

Avengers Drabble Dump 4

read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/hWPgZd1 by fanficsandfluff A collection of Avengers and Spider-Man NWH drabbles, usually fluffy. Words: 1557, Chapters: 7/?, Language: English Fandoms: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Falcon and the Winter Soldier (TV), Black Widow (Movie 2021) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: F/M, Gen Characters: Peter Parker, Clint Barton, Reader, You, Natasha Romanov (Marvel), Yelena Belova, Sam Wilson (Marvel), James "Bucky" Barnes Relationships: Clint Barton/Reader, James "Bucky" Barnes/Reader Additional Tags: Drabble, Drabble Collection, Movie: Spider-Man: No Way Home (2021), Peter Parker Played By Tobey Maguire, Peter Parker Played By Andrew Garfield, Peter Parker Played By Tom Holland, Fluff, Play Fighting, Banter, Tickling, Tickle Fights, Ticklish Peter Parker, Ticklish Clint Barton, Ticklish Natasha Romanov, Ticklish Yelena Belova, Ticklish Bucky Barnes read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/hWPgZd1

[tickle-bugs]

Itchin’ For Your Smile

Summary: Bucky has some...creative methods to deal with hard-to-reach itches. Sam inherits his curse. Domestic, romantic WinterFalcon. They’re dating but they don’t know it yet.

Watching Bucky is by far Sam’s favorite activity. It’s like people watching, but one person, and the person in question never ceases to be utterly fascinating. Even now, when he’s slumped over the kitchen table like a sack of potatoes, unmoving and half-asleep, Sam likes to watch his little mannerisms. Bucky hides in his arms from the sun but snuggles into the warmth of it. When the glare off his arm starts to annoy him, he makes a grumbly, defeated noise and sinks deeper into the table.

This is the same man that could catch a knife in mid-air and return it to the sender with just as much force. Same guy.

“Coffee or juice?”

“Juice is fine.” Bucky sighs, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands. His dog tags bounce rhythmically against his bare chest, catching the morning light and scattering it across the room. His hair sticks up in all directions, sorta like a hedgehog, and Sam has to duck to hide his smile. 

“You look like you slept well.” Sam turns the eggs over once more, for luck, and pushes them onto two plates. He scrapes the extra cheese onto Bucky’s plate. He likes when it crisps in the pan. 

“I did.” Bucky stretches, voice straining with his muscles. He’d finally started sleeping--and on the couch, no less. The first few days of staying with the Wilsons were utterly restless. Sam had to pretend he didn’t hear the back door creaking when Bucky came in, drenched in sweat not entirely from the exercise, drinking from the tap like a man who’d been lost in the desert. 

“Good.” Sam turns his attention to the bacon--nearly done, but not quite crispy enough. A bit of grease pops on his hand and he curses softly, running his hand under the faucet. 

A strange scraping noise, dull and slightly muffled, grabs Sam’s attention and he spares a peek in Bucky’s direction. 

Bucky’s dragging his back against a corner in the living room, scraping the sharp point of the wall from shoulder to shoulder. Every once and a while he does a little shimmy and rubs his spine against the drywall. 

Sam knows how much effort and trust it takes for Bucky to even sleep in the house, let alone feel comfortable enough to do whatever Yogi Bear nonsense he was doing at the moment, but he has to say something. He has to. A super soldier—Bucky specifically, the king of severity—is scratching his back like a forest creature...in his living room. A better setup would never come again. 

The image of Bucky’s haunted face flickers across Sam’s mind. If Steve was wrong about you, then he was wrong about me. 

Hm. Not worth it. 

In a herculean effort, Sam bites his tongue, pointedly fixing his attention on serving breakfast without another burn. The bacon pops threateningly at him a few times and he stabs it with the fork, beating back the mighty beast. 

Bucky crowds into his space back-first without a word. Sam stares. Bucky shuffles a little.

“Can I...help you?” Sam chokes back a laugh. 

“Scratch.” Bucky clears his throat. Asking without asking. 

“Big bad supersoldier can’t reach his back?” Sam grins. 

“Forget it.” Bucky goes to leave but Sam pulls him back by the bicep. He does a gingerly test-scratch near Bucky’s lower back and he visibly softens. Bucky’s walls recede and he opens up slowly, like a flower. 

“Where…?”

“Middle.” Bucky shimmies again. Sam scratches his fingers upwards, tripping along the knobs of his spine like a ladder. 

A breathy “holy shit” drips from Bucky’s lips. Sam never expected to see a supersoldier’s knees go weak during this lifetime, but he commits the sight to memory. Bucky leans back against Sam’s chest a little. Sam works around him. 

“Good?” Sam hopes his voice doesn’t come out too strangled. Bucky’s warm where their bodies meet. His fingers navigate delicate scars with grace and care. He drinks in the dizzying privilege of this domesticity and holds it tight. His fingertips buzz as they roam.

“Great.” Bucky’s voice trembles on a sigh. There’s getting an itch, then there’s satisfying an itch. If the full body shiver that Bucky does is any indication, Sam’s damn good at his job. He’s supporting Bucky’s full weight while he indulges him.

“Don’t fall asleep on me, now. You’ve still got a whole shed to paint.” Sam chuckles softly, giving Bucky’s shoulders a fond squeeze. 

“Hm?” Bucky’s voice actually does sound a little lax and rough with sleep. “Oh, yeah. I’ll do it.”

Sam feels like the worst person in the world. He sets aside their breakfast with reckless abandon, slamming every knob on the stove until he can ensure there’s no fire, and then he slides back into Bucky’s space.

“Get back here.” Sam goes back to gently scritching at Bucky’s back, hoping the feeling is enough to keep him from asking questions.

“‘Kay.” Bucky hums and stays right where he is, content to bask. Sam’s fingers roam a little too close to Bucky’s side. He jumps, breath hitching. A lazy smile takes over Sam’s face. This is too good. 

“Ticklish, Barnes?” Sam wraps his arms around Bucky’s waist and rests his head on his shoulder. 

“No.” Bucky tenses minutely. Sam grins. He reminds him of the rabbits that dart around the house in the mornings, like he’ll become invisible if he stops moving. Cute.

“Okay.” Sam pats his hands against Bucky’s stomach and lets go, chewing furiously on his lower lip to not give himself away. Bucky’s still tense, not-so-discreetly watching Sam over his shoulder. Sam starts to fiddle with the stove, not really doing anything, and waits…

“Come eat.” Sam tilts his head towards the pan. Bucky huffs softly and slides past him, reaching up for the plates in the cabinet. Sam slips behind him and burrows his fingers into Bucky’s stomach. 

“I-I am gonna kill yohohou.” Bucky’s laugh is a shooting star jostled free from between his ribs. His hands immediately fly to circle Sam’s wrists and he squirms like there’s no tomorrow. Sam plants his feet so they both don’t topple over. 

“Well, then I definitely can’t stop.” Sam’s fingers trip lower, grazing Bucky’s hips. He yelps and looses an incoherent string of noises before he doubles over in Sam’s arms, laughing so frantically that his body trembles with it. Bending over just pushes Sam’s fingers in deeper, really, so he takes advantage and gives the bones a test squeeze. 

Bucky’s head crunches back into Sam’s nose. He stumbles back into the kitchen counter and his vision blurs for a second. 

“Shit,” Sam laughs, pinching the bridge of his nose. A slight dribble of blood starts gathering in his hand and he fumbles for the paper towels with his free one. Bucky’s hand brushes his as he helps grab some—way too many, Sarah’s gonna kill them both. He hovers and stares intently, gripping handfuls of napkins like he’s gonna clean up a semi-truck-sized spill. 

“M’fine, Buck. Suffered far worse for stupider things.” Sam sniffs and dabs at his nose with a napkin from Bucky’s stash. It throbs dully, but he’s lucky it’s not broken. Probably. He’s had worse. 

“Can’t think of anything stupider than trying to tickle a super soldier.” Bucky huffs a laugh, light and easy. He crosses his arms over his chest and leans his hip against the counter. 

“Huh. I can’t think of anything better.” Sam grins. He throws away the napkins and washes his hands, watching as Bucky turns rosy pink. 

Goosing Bucky’s side as he walks by is well worth the revenge of getting tickled within an inch of his life, pinned underneath the man whose orbit keeps him steady. They’re both immature children, but they’re safe. They’re home.

…

Sam finds himself suffering The Itch just two days later. No matter how he contorts, he can’t reach, and his shoulder’s starting to scream with that ‘dislocation risk imminent’ type of burn. He’s starting to understand the appeal of using walls for backscratchers. This shit’s excruciating.

“Buck!” Sam groans loudly into the couch. 

“What?” Bucky bristles, nearly sloshing his tea onto the hardwood. He slams his copy of The Two Towers shut around his thumb. He’s become one with the leather armchair. 

“C’mere.” Sam flaps his arm in his general direction. 

“Why?” Bucky narrows his eyes.

“Just get over here.” Sam waves him over frantically. When Bucky sits down his tea and steps cautiously into reach—it takes literal years—Sam snags his wrist and slaps Bucky’s hand bodily onto his back.

“Scratch. Right there.” 

“Seriously?” Bucky chuckles at him.

“Do it.” Sam wiggles insistently. 

“You’re ridiculous.” Sam can hear Bucky’s eye roll but he doesn’t care. He’s a desperate man. Blunt nails scritch at the center of his spine and Sam melts into the couch. He lets out a shivering little breath and clutches a throw pillow for dear life. 

“Up, up—okay now left—yeah, that’s it,” Sam sighs. The silence from Bucky is suspiciously fond. 

“I hear you laughing at me,” Sam mumbles into the couch. If his bones hadn’t turned to jelly he’d lift his head to glare, but Bucky’s slowly taking him apart at the seams. He’s sand free of the hourglass. He’ll have to be surgically removed from these cushions.

“Me? I would never.” Bucky’s other hand touches down near Sam’s shoulder. His fingers pass over Sam’s shoulderblade and he yelps, rolling over quicker than he ever could in the air. He raises his hands in preemptive surrender. 

“Bucky.” 

“Sam,” he grins. His eyes glitter with a manic sort of playfulness.

“Bucky.”

“Sam.” They stare at each other for a long, tense moment. 

Sam throws himself over the back of the couch, knowing the bruises will be well worth it if it means he’ll escape. A cold grip clamps around his ankle and pulls him backwards into two strong, foreboding arms. He manages to spin around and face Bucky, but then there are traitorous hands tickling up his spine and he can’t do much else. 

“Your back? Really?” Bucky muses. Sam starts to slide down under him to get away. Oh, this is so stupid. He thought he’d outgrew this. 

“Y-You’re one to talk!” Sam’s voice crackles around his laughter and he writhes. Bucky finds a spot on the back of his ribs and Sam jumps. Bucky makes a thoughtful sound, the bastard, and keeps his fingers wiggling steady there until Sam’s throwing his head back 

The crossed wires in Sam’s brain spark and he pulls Bucky down into a kiss before he can think better of it. They both freeze and pull apart. Bucky hovers in his space, his dog tags dangling between them. He doesn’t look at Sam as much as he looks into him. His gaze flits to Sam’s mouth and he darts in to pull them back together. 

Sam’s knee slides up and his hand sits heavy on the back of Bucky’s neck. His thumb swipes at the short buzz of hair there and he slides his fingers fully into the scalp. Bucky makes a quiet noise into his mouth and tilts into it, licking gently at his bottom lip. He’s solid and sweet as his hands roam down Sam’s chest. 

Bucky pulls back first, but he doesn’t pull away. He cradles Sam like a heroine in a romance novel, which is fucking ridiculous but not unwelcome. He looks down at Sam with glittering awe and a well of fondness. A gentle hum resonates in his chest and passes through both of them. 

“What?” Sam huffs. He feels dizzy. Bubbly. There’s an addictive buzz beneath his skin that he wants to chase. Bucky smirks. Sam resists the urge to kiss him again. 

“Nothin’. Just can’t believe you thought that would work.” Bucky shoves his hands under Sam’s arms and he flails. Fucking traitor. Sam cackles and writhes under every twitch of his fingers. He honest-to-god snorts at one point, curling in on himself. Bucky laughs.

“Don’t--”

“Oh, I will.” Bucky’s eyelids lower and he presses back in, searching for the sound again. Sam slams his head back. He’s vicious, gentle, and precise, and Sam might be losing his mind a little. If not now, definitely for future him who’s never gonna win another argument in his life. If there’s anything Bucky has besides jokes, it’s audacity. 

Bucky leans forward, a teasing grin dancing on his lips, and tickles just so at Sam’s top rib. Sam flinches forward so hard that the room spins. 

Crunch. 

Sam pulls back with a gasp as his laughter dies, sudden and startled. Bucky holds a hand underneath his nose but he’s grinning. Blood drips onto his fingers and he tries to catch it. Sam’s soul leaves his body. He pushes a chuckling Bucky into the kitchen. 

“Sam, I’m fine--”

“Sit. Shut up.” Bucky does as he’s told, but not without a token eye roll. Sam pulls out way too many paper towels and shoves them in his hands. Bucky giggles, a bright and delirious sound. Sam wants to capture it in a jar and let it light his life like a firefly. 

“Eye for an eye, nose for a nose. We, uh. We match.” Bucky squints at him with a ghost of a smile. His voice is kind of nasally. Sam snorts. 

“You’re ridiculous.” He puts a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles bandaid over the red line starting to form on the bridge of Bucky’s nose. 

“You love me.” Bucky rolls his eyes and sniffs. He balls up the paper towels and throws them at the trashcan. When he makes it--of course he does--he gives Sam a cheeky grin. 

“Yeah, I do.” Sam shakes his head and lets his smile run wide. Bucky’s gaze turns soft and mottled with surprise, like he’s slowly melting into the emotions rolling over him. His eyes drop to Sam’s lips, then flick back up through his lashes. His mouth falls open slightly. 

He leans forward dangerously on the stool, gripping it to keep his balance, and presses his lips to Sam’s oh-so-gently. He falls forward onto his feet and manages to keep the stool from falling without breaking the kiss. Warm hands raise to tenderly cup Sam’s jaw. Their bodies fit together beautifully. 

“Hi,” Sam breathes, watching Bucky’s eyes flutter open. He’s starting to freckle from the constant touch of the Louisiana sun. Sam brushes a thumb over his cheek. 

���You love me,” Bucky repeats again, slowly, and his eyes frantically take in every aspect of Sam’s face. It’s the same tone he uses to reassure himself of the world around him. As if Sam and all his love might disappear. Like there’d be anywhere worth going without him. 

“Don’t let it go to your head. Your ego’s big enough as it is.” Sam lightly swats his chest. Bucky catches his hand and presses it to his chest, right over his dog tags. Bucky’s pulse flutters under Sam’s palm. His grin is small and bashful, threatening to bloom fully. 

Sam could cry, really. Tender is the word turning over and over in his brain, fresh and warm like a blanket out the dryer. 

“You’re a sap.” Sam wiggles his fingers and Bucky chuckles with a flash of teeth. Oh, the cities he’d burn to protect the sanctity of that smile. 

“You lo—“ Bucky gets a cocky little look to him. Sam kisses him before he can finish.

[atlas-of-the-universe]

Causing a Scene

Word Count: 20k, so it’ll take around an hour to read in full. 

Warnings: MA-rating. Mentions of sex (nothing major until the end), minor creepy dude pinching a butt but you show him, so don’t worry LOL 

Pure unadulterated romantic Loki falling for a mortal. Some protective Loki, lots of teasing.

Authors Note: I genuinely need to make an apology for how long it’s been taking me to chug out some things. I’ve promised you guys over and over again that I would get things out on a certain time, but life and circumstance has made it so that’s becoming quite difficult. I’ll discuss that in an upcoming post. I really hope you guys don’t mind how long it took. It’s a chunk of words. But I worked kinda hard on this one and made sure it was perfect before releasing, unlike my last fic LOL. I also need to mention @writingfics-passingtime​ and @just-another-blog-of-fluff​ for not only encouraging me through this, but giving me ideas and pointers as of how to go about it. They are genuinely not only some of the best authors here, but amazing people in general. Please go check out their work, they have MASTERPIECES. But without further ado, a fic that took me literally 4 months to write. 

<3

   The mirror in front of you seemed to mimick your movements instead of portraying them, as its job entailed. Truthfully told, it didn't look like you. Although you had worn dresses before in your life, this felt wildly different than those times. The past consisted of holiday treats and cheap decorations, a newer, plastic-ey feeling dress purchased from the dusty corners of the discount section. That, or an at-home birthday party that required you to buy an economical cocktail dress that felt way too tight on your shoulders. But this...this was a new feeling. 

It had been almost a year since you joined the Avengers, and your physical tone revealed the difference of an entire year's worth of training. Your arms had become thinner and more muscular, and the same could be said about your legs, you noticed as you turned your hips to look at yourself in the mirror. The dress you wore swayed along with your movements, the red sparkles of the fabric already coating your room in a light dusting of shimmers. The chiffon draped to the floor elegantly, the wine color a stark difference against the light-colored carpet of your room. The material separated into two pieces on the skirt's right half, the slit of fabric combining again mid-thigh. Hugging perfectly to your waist, the dress's bodice was dotted in tiny rhinestones of the same merlot hue. Today, you were taller than you usually were as well, your height being exaggerated about four inches by the heels you wore that were just a shade lighter than your skin. It was the first time you had seen yourself in something so elegant in a long time. Long enough that it was difficult to recognize yourself in the mirror. 

Tony was bright enough to not have the fundraiser at the Avengers compound. Having unknown faces in unfamiliar places was too precarious. Everyone who knew about the compound needed to be known and kept track of; otherwise, the team's lives would be put in jeopardy. He decided to hold it at a shockingly large banquet hall in New York City that had a stringent dress code. You could only imagine the cost. Luckily the price didn't bother him enough to hesitate on purchasing the team their formal attire for the evening. The fact that he had personally picked this dress out for you skeeved you out just a tad, but you had to admit, he had done an exceptional job. A billionaire knows what billionaires would like, you supposed. What better way of getting other billionaires to donate to charity than having America's heroes look their sharpest? 

"Well, well, well," Natasha crooned from the doorway, practically appearing out of thin air with a playful smile on her face. She had a bandage dress close to the color of yours but brighter, hugging her figure down to just below her knees. Tight sleeves extended from the deep v-neck, coating her arms in rich velvet. Her hair was expertly curled into thick and wide waves, auburn hair complimenting the color of her outfit. She looked stunning. "Who are you, and what have you done with (Y/N)?"

You rolled your eyes and scoffed, albeit the fact that you agreed with her. You fiddled with your dress's sleeve that ended just at the edge of your wrist. Although you knew how beautiful you looked, some part of you didn't feel like yourself in the dress. The way you were just allowed to be a part of such a prestigious group of individuals felt the slightest bit fraudulent. You were the newest. "I know," you said, glancing up at her. "I don't even look like myself."

Natasha knew you better than you thought she did. She stepped into the room, the sound of her own heels being muffled by the carpet. She put her hands on your shoulders gently, and you followed instinctually to face her. She took your wrist, folding back the thin sleeve a little, and repeated her actions on the other hand as well. "It's a part of the job," Natasha stated, steeling her face into the cold agent she was just for a second before softening her features again. "You're still saving lives. The funds from tonight are going to help the Sokovian victims for a long time." She smoothed her hands along the outside of your arms, checking you over before stepping back again. 

"But a dance?" you complained. "I'm an Avenger. I can't dance."

"It comes easier than you think. There's always some guy with an ego big enough to dance with a pretty girl."

"Oh? Does Bruce even have an ego?"

"Watch it," Natasha warned, a knowing smirk playing at her lips. "He's a scientist. They all do." She took a step back to admire how well you cleaned up, nodded, and walked back to the door frame. Her heels clicked against the metal of the bunker floors, and she turned around to face you. "The limo leaves in fifteen. You should finish up whatever you're doing." 

"Wait," you called as she turned her head to face you. "I guess Wanda's not coming tonight, then?"

"No," Natasha said solemnly. "This would have been too much for her." 

As the sight of Natasha grew dim down the corridor, you found yourself alone with your imagination once again. You had been formally invited to several different fundraisers before, but nothing entirely of this caliber. Thinking about it, it seemed you were the only one who had not attended a fancy party among the team. Natasha's words rang out in your head; it's a part of the job. Even the non-earthlings would be attending, and they've had their fair share of fancy parties, considering they were from royalty. Speaking of the brothers, you made a mental note to tell Natasha about Thor's plan to ask her to dance so she wasn't caught off guard. Even though she was the most confident one on the team (aside from Tony), she still was just as human as the rest of us. The image of it made you chuckle. Thor dancing with Natasha, what a sight that would be. But who would you dance with? The barren truth was that you had little idea what you were doing. 

You peaked in the mirror one last time, fixing your hair and wobbling on your heels to the door. The hard surface was easier to walk on, but still, it took you a second to catch your footing. It was nearing midday, so the sun was high, the compound windows fluttering with the speckled light of the leaves falling to the Earth. Fall in New York seemed to last longer than any other season, especially upstate. As you walked, you laced in a trial of a confident strut, swinging your hips with a little more intent than usual. It felt unnatural, so you stopped and continued down the halls to where the limousine was waiting for you. 

The clicking of your heels called to your attention as you stepped into the compound lobby through large double doors. The team was grouped in the center of the room, a stark (pun intended) difference from the maintenance crew and office outfits scattered amongst the room. The team was standing in a messy circle. However, most of them were carried off in their own conversations, their eyes occasionally darting up to scan their surroundings as a habit from years of training. Natasha was amongst them, catching your eye as you stepped through the doors. Her arms were crossed, the color of her dress complimenting the fiery shade of lipstick she had applied in the short time from when you had seen her.  You cleared your throat and smoothed out the front of your own, walking up to the cluster of agents. The closer you got, the harder your heart pounded. Although you weren't nervous around the team, you found yourself feeling a little out of place. The anxiety of how people would perceive you rushed around in your head, and suddenly, the dress felt all too tight. 

As Natasha's gaze caught your own, Bruce turned his head to follow her stare. His features softened upon seeing you, and he smiled. "(Y/N)," he said as you approached. "You look great."

You breathed a hollow laugh and dipped your head, your gait slowing a bit. "Thanks," you said with a small smile. Even though you had integrated yourself into the group, the feeling of isolation settled back into your bones as Bruce and Natasha resumed their conversation. You weren't offended, of course, but you knew that these types of things came effortlessly to them, and if they didn't, they didn't show it. The air of confidence radiating around every one of them was impressive, if not intimidating. Thor, Tony, Steve, and Natasha all had their natural certainty about them but were joined by the rest of the team in their outfit-encouraged assurance. You had to admit, you could understand why. The crew cleaned up remarkably well, and their actions mimicked the fancy quality of their clothes. Even Peter looked more confident than he usually did. Pepper, who was dressed in a brilliant blue sheath dress, adjusted the knot of his tie closer to his neck as Tony patted him on the back a little too hard and said something to him, but the insistent chatter in the broad space made it difficult to hear.  There was a chittering of laughter off to the side; Thor emphasized a particularly boisterous point with his arms as he told Clint, Steve, and Bucky a joke. But still, there was one person that, amidst the crowd, you still couldn't find.

"Do you guys know where Loki is?" You blurted out, accidentally interrupting Bruce in his relatively soft-spoken conversation. 

"Oh, um," Bruce turned his attention to you and lifted his head to scout the room. "He definitely came in before. He was one of the first people here." 

"Watch your six," Natasha said, nodding her head behind you. When you turned to look behind you, you saw Loki standing off to the left side of the room, leaning against the metal walls with his feet crossed and his hands in his pockets. His eyes were trained onto you, sending a chill down your spine. Well, maybe for reasons more than that. 

You hadn't ever seen Loki in anything other than his Asgardian armor and the business-casual clothing he wore. Loki had always stridden with an atmosphere of cockiness, his head held high and the same, characteristically impish grin set upon his lips. He hadn't strayed from it today, but the suit he wore put a little flutter in your chest. The suit and suede dress shoes together highlighted his lean frame and accentuated his height. Supposing you didn't know who he was, you could have incorrectly labeled him as one of the unusually handsome CEOs wandering the compound, waiting patiently for their meeting to start. The hair above his ears had been tied back into a flat-looking ponytail, the rest falling in thick whisps to his shoulders. With a signature flash of green embezzling his tie, he stood up straighter as you turned to approach him. 

The banquets and elegant celebrations that Loki and his brother had attended were practically no comparison to any of the parties Stark hosted. He, not unlike yourself, had never participated in the gaudier end of the billionaire's events. Even back in Asgard, Loki was never really one for parties unless they were his own, and even those festivities felt somewhat burdensome. Since his destruction of New York, it had been challenging to find the time and place for Loki to join, not that he even wanted to. There was always the risk of being recognized by the general public. Still, Stark had assured him that this was a ball for a select number of individuals and that the danger of being exposed was significantly reduced. Did it actually assure him? Of course not. Was there a reason he was going? Only one. 

Conjuring up an outfit after completely ignoring the one that Stark had paid for, Loki decided he would get to the lobby earlier than the others. It was a way to get away from the hustling business of the compound halls, the lobby significantly less busy during this time of day. It would only be a matter of time before the crowd and the rest of the Avengers had shown, but it was nice to have some peace and quiet. As a janitor eyed him, wheeling his ridiculously squeaky cart from hall to hall, Loki found a bench to sit down on and crossed his legs, his mind falling into a semi-aware space. You had mentioned the other day that you hadn't attended any events such as this one. While that was not shocking, he found himself curious about what you have done. Had you ever danced with someone before? Were you the type of person to jump at the call of the buffet, or would you wait until the line had died down? The thought of you dancing seemed to cloud his mind entirely. More specifically, the thought of you dancing with him. The idea that you would dance with someone else burned in his stomach, and his upper lip curled a bit as he swallowed his irritation. He found himself disgruntled at the fact that his chest would tighten as the image of you looking up at him during a dance swelled his mind. 

As the Avengers began shuffling into the room in pairs, Loki nodded to some of them and stood to have a brief conversation with his brother before he stepped away to speak with Steve. The sight of Earth's warriors dressed in outfits far above their complexity of work was a bit impressive, but as Agent Romanoff stepped into the room, he felt a little disheartened, having fully expected you to come in after her. A few tense moments of bitter disappointment followed, but as the double doors to the main room opened again, his dejection washed away as quickly as it had grown. 

With your head held high, your hair falling delicately to your shoulders, he realized for a moment that he had never seen you with your hair down. Nor had he ever seen you dressed up. The sophisticated dress gave you a dangerous look as if you played the part of a spy even in your downtime. The dress fluttered as it caught the draft of your pace, highlighting just how well the bodice conformed to you. You walked with intent, clutching a little handbag close to your abdomen as you kept your eyes to the ground on your way to greet Natasha. You weren't always this timorous. In fact, in the time he had known you, he grew to understand how outspoken you were, a trait that Loki was appreciative of. Even though he was especially good at reading disturbances, it was always better when people were outright with it. Less time wasted, he would say to himself. 

Loki had decided that he would play a subconscious game with you, his eyes following your movements. He watched you tuck your hair behind your ear and determined that he wouldn't be the one to move. He would let you find him, let you make the first move. This was a simple game, of course. A game you didn't know you were playing. A game that subtly lets Loki read you a bit better. Loki ultimately won as Natasha locked eyes with him, her lips curling into a sly smile. She nodded in his direction, and you subsequently turned around, replacing his attention back with yours. For a second, you continued your ongoing tête-à-tête, but he found himself pleased that your eyes never left his. He made no move as he leaned against the wall and no inclination that he intended to do so. You took the bait and said a final word to Natasha, walking the twenty feet that separated you.  

The closer you got to Loki, the more he seemed to sparkle. Whether or whether not it was an illusion put on by clever tricks of magic slipped across your mind but did not stop your breath from catching in your throat. You swallowed a bit and slowed your pace. 

"I'm surprised to see you here," you said.

"Trust me, darling, not more surprised than I am," Loki stood up straight and let his gaze cast over the group of Avengers. "I've never been one for these things." 

"Neither have I," your voice lowered and followed his eyes. "Are you worried about people or just...party stuff?" 

He scoffed, "If I were perturbed about the opinion of others, I wouldn't be standing in front of you."

"Fair."

The slam of car doors outside caught both of your attention, and Tony began to talk a bit louder, shuffling his way to the front of the group to start to lead them outside. You looked at each other before slowly turning around, following the scuffle from a distance. Loki's finger's laced together in front of him, and you clutched your handbag close to you. 

"And what of you?" Loki asked. 

"Huh?" 

"The party. Are you nervous about the people or...something else?"

You smiled a bit, dipping your chin down to your chest. "It's a fundraising ball. I haven't even been to one of the smaller fundraisers that Tony's had."

Loki pursed his lips, catching sight of Tony as he stepped into a long limousine. The wide-open door of the car lit faintly with the dull luster of LED lights inside the cabin. Sam stepped inside and walked with a hunched back to the right, disappearing out of view. Loki opened his mouth but hesitated, debating if relating to you was the right thing to do. "If it consoles you at all," he justified, more to himself than you. "Neither have I."

You looked up at him, catching the way his jaw tightened. He could feel your eyes on him, but his ego kept him from down. The crowd slowly shrank smaller and smaller as you stepped outside, eventually being ushered into the limousine as well. The

raw air nipped at your ankles for a fraction of a second before you stepped into the car. The inside of the limo was decorated in sharp-looking, matte black upholstery. The dim red light of the LED strips overhead cast a faint glow over the group's heads, illuminating both your and Natasha's dresses. In front of the seats that bordered half of the car, an expensive-looking bar twinkled with freshly clean glassware and several bottles of champagne coated in gold foil, a white 'Louis Roederer' spelled out on the label.  Loki followed close behind you as you squatted to sit closest to Thor, Loki grunting uncomfortably as he squat-walked to your right. The leather cushions were softer than you would have expected, and you sank into the seats, both of the brother's arms positioned above yours in a feeble attempt to be comfortable. Loki chuckled at your squished look and reached over to wiggle a finger into your side. You jumped, blushed, and swatted at Loki, all in that order. 

"Sorry, love," he chuckled. "You make it too easy."

"Shut up." 

Tony spoke to the driver about something, muffled by the chatter of the others. When he was done, the window to the driver slid shut, and the car shuddered to a start. The shift in the car's momentum pulling off put Thor's weight against you and your weight onto Loki. For a second, you caught a whiff of a warm, woodsy scent as your shoulder pressed into his side. Was Loki wearing cologne?

"Jesus, Stark, you couldn't have made these seats any bigger?" Bucky groaned from in between Steve and Sam. Sam frowned and shoved his arm above Bucky's, letting out an exasperated sigh. 

"I feel like a sardine," Sam said, frustratedly nodding.

"Well, you smell like one too," Bucky quipped. 

"Really, man? Is that what we're doing? Why can't--" 

"You shouldn't have brought up that--" 

"Alright, boys," Natasha scolded. "Enough." 

Their argument died down, replaced by dejected scowls and tiny shoves. It reminded you of brothers, and part of you wondered what they would look like as brothers. It wasn't difficult to imagine Bucky as an older brother figure, especially with his and Steve's past. However, Bucky had the identical 'protective older sibling' energy that Sam seemed to harbor, the more you got to know them both. Those energies pitted against each other produced snarky attitudes and semi-aggressive taunting, a clear example being what you had just witnessed. 

"Ah, it's not so bad!" Thor exclaimed, his shoulder squishing both you and Peter into the seat. Now that you looked at it, it only looked like Tony, Pepper, Natasha, and Bruce were sitting comfortably, each having the correct amount of space to breathe. 

"Easy for you to say," you jested, your voice straining as you struggled to hitch yourself above Thor's arm. "You're the biggest one in here." 

"Is that (Y/N)?" Peter's voice called from the other side of your human obstacle. As Thor chuckled, Peter did his best to lean his head forward, looking for you. "I didn't even know you were in here!" 

"No, well," you grunted. "I guess you wouldn't."

You could hear the light tinkling of the glassware being toyed with. Out of your sight, Tony poured champagne in Pepper's glass then passed the bottle to Natasha. Tony bared his teeth and frowned in a guilty expression, doing his best to ignore the complaints from around the vehicle. 

You laughed humorlessly and pushed against Thor's arm. "This is ridiculous." 

Although Loki was not particularly bothered by your complaining, he found himself becoming a bit restless, cramped in a small space with a group of his former enemies. "If you're going to fuss so much, perhaps my brother would assist me in boosting your mood," he played. Loki watched with a grin as your face morphed from annoyed to sheepish in a fraction of a second. As if you couldn't be forced more into the seat, you sank a little. 

"What, do you have any road-trip games we can play, Mr. Loki?" Peter asked before Thor could speak. 

"Yes, dear boy, it's called the quiet game. I believe you can guess the rules," Loki quipped, resulting in Peter letting out an awkward, breathy laugh. 

Peter cast a look that could only be described as 'what the hell is his problem' at Tony for a quick second before getting distracted by a town sign that the car passed on the road. He was particularly intrigued by the little town called 'Hope,' saying it sounded like something from a comic book. Unfaithful to your predicament, the Town of Hope only seemed to mock your circumstance. 

Loki looked down at you, lodged between his bicep and his brother's side. The tiny amount of space made it near impossible for both your and Thor's bodies to fit adequately. Hence, Thor's arm hung over half of your body, effectively smothering you. Loki watched how you occasionally renewed your spouts of energy, pushing against his brother's arm, trying to position yourself in the seat that left you the slightest amount of breathing room. The hand closest to Loki's body was relatively free of constraint, although his frame was still packed tightly against you. His brother's lack of spatial awareness was significantly less refined than others and infuriating to his victims, whether it was at Loki's expense or not. You were quickly very conscious of the limited amount of room you had to yourself and even more so of the fact that there was a metaphysical timer ticking down until you reached your destination. Your stomach dropped a bit as you realized you were driving into New York City. That had to at least be a four-hour drive, more if you hit traffic. 

"Tony," you said in a strangled voice. "How long is the drive, anyway?" 

Tony frowned and looked up, counting numbers in his head. "Give or take three and a half hours. Don't be the first person that has to pee on a trip. No one likes that person." 

"What? Since when?" Bruce asked Tony, a hint of offense lacing his voice. 

"Since I said so. Now! Just a heads up: the hotel is right across the street from the venue, so whenever the fun turns into an old lady's tea party, you can skedaddle if you want. Just don't leave until eight. I promised a few donors that we'd be there until eight." The finality in Tony's voice left no room for discussion. Truthfully, a party that lasted from four in the afternoon to eight wasn't the worst thing you've ever heard, although a bit long when you thought about the grand scope of four hours. How much can happen in four hours? 

Your thoughts were cut off guard by Loki's fingers squeezing the muscle on your knee. You jumped and stomped the foot of your assaulted leg, making Loki chuckle. 

"I was getting at something before I was interrupted," He said. "No matter. I was simply going to ask my brother if he would like to assist me in making this car ride a little more bearable." Loki's eyes left yours for a brief moment to catch a side-eyed glance from his brother. It was challenging to see Thor's face from where you sat, but you saw a glimmer of a smile tug at the corner of his lip before he turned his head away. 

"Loki, back off," you said, but before you had a chance to readjust your position for the thirteenth time, the weight of Thor's arm against your chest doubled. You debated biting Thor's arm for a moment to teach him a lesson about personal space but decided it wouldn't be the best course of action. "Thor, buddy, come on," you smacked his forearm a few times, elbowing Loki a bit in the process. You wondered if the other Avengers were watching your predicament, and simply the thought of the other's eyes on you made you blush. 

Though the weight had yet to decrease, Thor's head turned away from you, and you heard his voice catch a conversation separate from your situation. Ignoring the sensation of panic rooting itself in your chest, you pushed against Thor's elbow and hoped for some consequence. Instead, you felt his muscles tighten as he pressed against your hands. Something clicked. He was doing this on purpose. 

Loki had been all but silently watched you the entire time during your struggle. Your hair flipped a bit to the side, some whisps clinging to the color on your lips. Your posture had stayed as exceptionally straight, and poise as you usually held it, something impressive for his brother being practically on top of you. Even so, both of your arms were pinned above Thor's bicep, leaving you precariously exposed. Loki bit the corner of his lip, his stomach tightening at the thought of Thor being so close to you. Too close to you. He caught himself in his thinking and hastily glanced around the room to see if anyone could see his shameful envy but trained his vision right back to you. He had not seen Natasha's eyes watching the interaction, a sly smile vanishing from her face as she returned to her own escapades. Loki had not been honest with himself about the nature of his feelings. Exacerbated by the immensely seductive and threatening air of confidence the dress appeared to give you, Loki found himself needing to swallow a lump in his throat whenever his eyes caught your body. You were truly radiant. Your gaze matched his for a fraction of a second, and your eyes widened, a timid smile adorning your face. His heart fluttered, but he morphed his expression to display a cocky grin. He leaned down to you, not a very far distance, but still enough to be uneasily close to your ear.

"Forgive me, but it looks like you're in somewhat of a bind. You might want to be careful, or someone might make use of it," the god of mischief said, pinching your side a bit between his thumb and two fingers. You jumped and coughed to cover up a surprised laugh.

Looking up at Loki's killer smile sent shivers down your spine, and you rapidly became aware of just how much leverage the brothers had over you. Knowing that the brothers had done something like this to you before meant that they wouldn't hesitate to do it again, and that thought put you on a very steep edge. 

Loki noticed the way your eyes scanned the room as your crisis deepened. Although he kept the smirk on his face, he faltered. It wasn't difficult to tell that if your so-called weakness were to be exposed, your anxiety would lay in the judgment of others. Any other day, he wouldn't have cared much about it and would have tickled you to pieces then and there. Now, although his ego was too great to admit it, he was nervous to touch you. You seemed delicate. Deadly but fragile. You were a toxin sitting atop a high shelf, contained within the bounds of thin glass walls. 

And he was intoxicated. 

Loki cleared his throat and retracted his hands. Thor eyed him skeptically and released some of the pressure on his arm but still held firm, even though you protested and pinched him. Loki's gaze flitted from you to the surrounding vehicle and fell back to Thor. The brothers gave an almost imperceptible nod, a mutual understanding that only could be understood by blood. 

Thor shifted and took a deep breath, continuing a conversation that you had failed to listen to. "Well, we all know that childhood was not the easiest for all of us," he said with a sad smile. 

"I don't know, I had a pretty easy-going life as a kid," Bucky shrugged. "It wasn't until Uncle Sam over here decided to join the ranks that shit hit the fan." 

"Come on, Buck," Steve said, rolling his eyes with a cynical smile. "It's a damn good thing I decided to join or--"

"Yeah, you wouldn't have been able to keep those bullies off your back, huh?" 

"Ah, shut up." Steve shook his head, and Bucky chuckled. 

"You sound like a fine pair," Thor smiled warmly and gestured to them. "Loki and I growing up were usually at odds, but there were plenty of fond memories as well. Can you think of anything, brother?" Thor's specific emphasis on his brother's name caught your attention, and as it dawned on you that they had hatched some sort of plan, your stomach rippled with nerves. 

Loki smiled and dipped his chin in a blatant imitation of humility to you and Thor, but it was a "genuine" reflection of the past to anyone else. Loki softly chuckled and leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees and hands animating his story by his face. 

"Asgard is unique in its ability to cultivate some of the Nine Realms' most potent healing fruits and medicinal herbs," He began. "Fields filled with trees bearing fruits of every color, all gleaming brilliantly as if they were made of gold. Thor and I would play with the other children in these fields. One day, we came across this grove of apple trees that we hadn't seen before, and naturally, we got curious. I dared Thor to eat one, and he did--"

"Loki, tell the story right," Thor scolded. "You held a knife to my throat and threatened me to eat it."

Loki rolled his eyes. "Yes, well, either way, he ate the apple. Once Thor had proven that the apples were safe, we all began climbing the trees and eating them. Little did we know, those apples were enchanted with a compliance spell. Asgard laces these fruit into particularly stubborn prisoners' diets to calm them down and make the truth more pliable. We must have eaten two trees' worth of fruit. The rest of the day, we told stories under the shade of these mystical apple trees. Our dreams were filled with fantasies beyond your wildest imaginations. In all sincerity, I found the dreams to be the most enjoyable. Days and nights passed us by, but we paid little attention. We were so engrossed in our stories that we began crafting our own when we finally ran out of them. The elders came looking for us after three days."

"Oh, were they ever mad," Thor commented.

"Quite. Not only were we missing for a substantial amount of time, but we had successfully devoured Asgard's entire supply of some of its most potent weapons. We were none the wiser." 

"Aye, and it lasted longer than just that day as well. Brother, I'm sure you remember what happened to your magic." Thor waggled his eyebrows and earned an eye roll in response. 

"It was an embarrassment," Loki sneered. 

"Loki was caught in Odin's chambers by none other than Odin himself. What were you doing, again? Trying to steal some, er...chest plate or...?"

"For your information, it was the same armor that Odin bore in the Æsir–Vanir War. It would have sold for a glorious sum." Loki paused and glanced down at you for a fraction of a moment before looking back to the group. "And the only reason he caught me was because those damned apples prevented me from using my magic or being dishonest. I told him right then and there what I was doing. From that day, I vowed to never lie again. You can tell how well that exactly planned out."

There were a few scattered laughs and sardonic scoffs resounding through the cabin. At this moment, Loki sat up straight and, without taking his eyes off the group, reached over to your knee (which were well concealed by Thor's legs) and began to squeeze the muscle above your knee-cap. Though his hands were over the fabric of your dress, the material was thin and did little to protect you. You jumped and held your breath, kicking out at the little shocks traveling up your leg. Giggles immediately began bubbling in your stomach, and you broke from sheer surprise, laughing and pushing harder against Thor. Loki withdrew his unseen assault and sat back, feigning surprise at your outburst. 

"My, agent, I knew I was funny, but I didn't expect such a boisterous reaction," he said, falling back into his seat with a frustratingly smug smile. 

That bastard. He had waited for the perfect time to enact his little scheme and still managed to embarrass you without giving away your secret. Part of you wondered if you should be grateful that he did it out of the other's sight, but the other more defensive part of you was busied attempting to form an excuse for your eruption. As you glanced up at his devious gaze, you caught a certain softness in his eyes and decided against bantering at this moment. Not only did he have a significant advantage over you, but the dress did little to aid your full scope of movements. 

"Oh, you know me, Loki," you said, half sarcastic, half strained. "Always a great sense of humor." 

From that moment on, the car ride became a little easier to bear. Loki's story had sparked another conversation amidst the group and Peter, who emphatically told stories about his childhood before the spider bite. Clint mumbled a joke that you could barely hear, and everyone besides you and Loki laughed. Thor had since removed the weight from his arm, and you figured whatever tricks they had in mind had ended with the last effort. However, as the indistinct jokes made their way through the car, an empty, hollow feeling filled your stomach. 

While Loki couldn't exactly make out what was being said either, he wasn't paying enough attention to care. His eyes watched as your eyes fell to your hands in your lap, twisting a steel ring around your right ring finger. You fiddled with it absentmindedly, your smile twitching every few moments upwards as you listened halfheartedly to different conversations.  All of the Avengers had a band similar to this one - almost like a mark of loyalty, Tony had handed them out at one meeting, flaunting the tracking devices and other expensive gadgets embedded into the metal. Loki had also received a ring but decided to keep it in his pocket-dimension and out of sight. It felt more like a symbol of status rather than a generous gift, and while he was grateful to be acknowledged as part of the team, he was still too stubborn to display it. 

There was a distant look in your eye, and the pauses of silence rippling through conversations exposed your gloomy frown. Seeing you so downtrodden stirred something in Loki, almost to the point of anger, but softer. Before he had a chance to stop himself, he reached his hand over to your lap and draped his fingers gently over yours. 

Loki's hand felt cold against yours, and it pulled you from your thoughts. 

If the world had stopped spinning or the crew had stopped their chatter, you wouldn't have noticed.

Some hours later, you had barely noticed as the car drove into New York City. What gave it away was Peter's excitement about finally being home. The traffic gradually increased, and the roads narrowed, moving under bridges and through tunnels you had once been able to recognize. It had been so long since returning to the city that you surprised yourself when you knew the name of the street you were driving on. Everywhere your eyes touched, billboards illuminated your vision and advertised some show, product, or insurance that you couldn't have cared less about. These things all seemed so minuscule in the grand scheme of...well, everything. 

From the time you entered the city, it took about forty-five minutes until the limousine pulled over, and it halted to its final stop. Tony wrapped on the shaded window behind him, and it slid open. Holding a dollar bill through his pointer and middle fingers, he slipped it through the gap, and the glass subsequently slid shut. 

Tony clapped. "Quick few rules. If you're going to drink, fine, but I don't want my sponsors knowing how slobbered some superhumans can actually get. Just don't puke on anyone. Be nice to them, please, okay? They already did the speeches, so all we have to do is mingle. And lastly, don't accept any drinks from strangers. Alright, kiddies, let's get out there."

The outside of the venue was nothing to sneeze at. Through a vast, almost chapel-looking stained glass window, you could see the silhouette of what looked like to be a crystal chandelier, giving a mysterious and intimidatingly elegant look to the brick structure. The buildings in New York City always looked cramped together, but all the facilities held some variant of the same story within their walls. A writer desperate the find their meaning in a studio apartment; a fancy restaurant or hotel to attract particularly well-endowed travelers (though the owner himself is almost always an outsider); the coffee shop or corner store that only a few people visit in a given day; the audio and radio shops desirous of drawing in any customer in a given radius for cheap supplies. They were all the same. Yet somehow, even amongst everyone who held the duplicate titles of "trying-to-survive-the-world-on-their-own," you felt isolated. Your job put you on a pedestal made up of dead humans and aliens alike, and simply being invited to a party of this magnitude felt selfish. 

Loki was the first to step out of the car, as he was closest to the door. He didn't wait for the driver to open the door for him and opted to let himself out of the vehicle. You followed suit and hunched your body as Thor lifted his arm. The brisk evening air of the city clutched your ankles, and you quivered, letting your heels support your weight on the concrete sidewalk. Stepping on the grates of the sidewalks would guarantee your heels to catch them and would result in a stumble, so you decided to linger closer to the building as the others stepped out of the car as well. While the temperature outside wasn't completely unbearable, with the thin clothing covering only the necessary parts of you, it did nothing to conceal your shivers. 

Loki stepped over to you as the other began their hustle out of the automobile, his hands in his jacket pocket, his chin dipped a bit down. He took his place parallel to you and watched as Bruce shut the door of the limousine behind him. He caught the eye of a few inquisitive bystanders who roamed the sidewalks but found himself paying them little mind. In all the time Loki had gotten to know your traits and personality, this was the timidest he had seen you. Your arms were tightly crossed, and your gaze locked on your teammates, occasionally glancing at the decorated individuals making their way up the steps to the ballroom. Goosebumps were coating the exposed part of your shoulders. You were trembling. 

"It might have been wise to bring a coat," he commented with a teasing smile. 

You humorlessly chuckled. "We'll only be outside for a few more minutes. I've handled worse."

Knowing he would get nowhere with you, he sighed and analyzed your face, which gave no hints as to breaking your stubbornness. He sighed and pulled his hand from his pocket, waving it in the air for a brief moment. The air seemed to respond to his movements, and before you had any chance to protest, your shoulder was shrouded in a green light that traveled up your arms, leaving a cream-colored fabric that fell just above your hips. The cloak's collar was made of an invaluable feeling fur that hid your neck from the elements of the autumn air, the wool of the coat protecting your painted fingers from the breeze.

At first, you had gasped, startled at the sudden weighted warmth that enveloped your shoulders, but looking at Loki with his smug smile only dissuaded you from scolding him. In reality, it was dangerous for him to use his magic in the middle of so many people, but you knew that he understood that risk. You turned your head towards the steps of the building (mainly to hide the blush that found itself on the apples of your cheeks) but found yourself drawn to the front doors of the venue. Endless people flowed in and out of the building, and you wondered how many people would be attending the part for its entire duration. 

"You know," you said, turning your gaze back to Loki. "It's not safe to use your magic so publicly."

He chuckled. "Perhaps. Maybe this world is more used to magic than you know." 

"Maybe."

"Magic presents itself in different ways on Midgard. You Midgardians are quite easily fooled."

You hummed. "I wouldn't say that. I think we just...enjoy the mysterious." 

"As do I. I don't mean foolish as in idiotic. I mean that Midgardians tend to be oblivious to the magic that surrounds them daily. An answered prayer possibly, or a strange coincidence...love." 

You turned to him to catch his gaze, but his eyes fell somewhere else. "Are you calling me 'love,' or are you saying that love is magic?" 

"Love itself is not magic, darling. Love is more of an infatuation riddled with good intentions and heavy sentiments. But...love does have elements of magic if you care to look. When two people catch each other's eyes from across the room, would you call that an odd coincidence?" 

"Probably." 

"Remember what I just told you about coincidences?" 

Before you allowed yourself to say anything, a particularly disheveled-looking man on a boisterous business call came barrelling down the sidewalk. You wouldn't have noticed him at all if it weren't for the fact that he had plowed into Loki. Loki's stance held firm as the man side-checked him, and for a second, your heart caught in your throat. You were more scared for the man's consequences, but Loki's hands never left his pockets, and his stern gaze never left the man's face. Uttering a typical but slightly intimidated New York "watch it" over his shoulder as he stomped away, the stranger made no effort to continue his encounter. 

"Would you call that a coincidence?" You laughed. 

Loki shook his head and rolled his eyes, watching the man as he shuffled down the sidewalk. "Perception doesn't seem to be one of Midgard's strong suits either." His eyes bounced from different billboards plastered on buildings, each of them shifting their advertisements within a few seconds of each other. You smiled as one of the billboards faded to a bright red rotating 'A,' the Avengers logo spinning behind snippets of your teammates mid-action. At one point, you saw a flash of Loki and you fighting side by side together on a mission that you were assigned in Bolivia a few months in the past. You nudged Loki and nodded to the advertisement just as his face faded from the camera and into a bright yellow Broadway display.

"It makes me wonder how they got that clip of us," you pondered and watched as Sam's jacket fluttered from the air as he walked through the door to the ball. The corner of your lip found its way in between your teeth, and you took a deep breath. "I guess we should start thinking about going inside, huh?"

Loki shrugged and tilted his head. "I'm quite content being outside, actually." 

"I know. Honestly, me too." 

Loki glanced down at you, catching the flash of anxiety that crept over your eyes. Hesitantly, he put his hand on your shoulder and met your gaze as you looked up at him. "If it's any solace to you, may I accompany you tonight?" 

'Accompany me' were the first words to leave your lips, your head desperately trying to wrap itself around the idea of you being Loki's date for the night. Was it even a date? Or was this just a company outing? A rather big company outing, of course, but as you saw the sincerity in his eyes, a soft smile replaced your shocked expression. Your heart swelled at the thought of having someone by your side for the duration of the dance, though something about it made you a bit apprehensive. Having a friend at parties such as these was a welcome gift, even though said 'friend' was actually a literal God. "I'd appreciate that," you said. 

Loki's appearance lifted into a bright smile, and he dipped his chin down, the same grin on his lips. Without a word, he put his hand on the small of your back, gently leading you to the bottom of the steps. Even with the magically made cloak protecting you, you could feel the soft pressure of his hand pressing into your skin. It was a welcome touch, albeit a disarming one. 

The life you had led thus far would never have prepared you for such a moment. The constant training, the heat of battle, sweat, blood, and tears donated haphazardly to your life's work held no moment that taught you how to fight your nerves. There had been missions where you would have to imitate a flirty waitress or even the woman on the date, but they were all moments lost in time. You swallowed as the bouncer opened the door for you, Loki following behind. 

The double doors opened into a large banquet hall, more extensive than you had expected from the cramped brick appearance. A piano player was swaying back and forth in his seat in the far right corner of the room, dressed in a full tuxedo and a corsage that looked somehow more expensive than what you imagined his services could have cost. You wondered if he wore the same outfit every night but were caught off guard by a woman in a black vest offering to take your cloak. You politely declined and thanked her as she moved on to repeat her offer to the pair who entered behind you. A quartet of stringed instruments crescendoed in the same corner of the room as the grand piano, triggering a few dancing couples to dip their torsos towards the ground robotically and synchronously. If this place was anything, it was elegant. Everything sparkled, from the frosted look of the dance floor, which took up around half of the room, to a rich man's hairless head buying himself a glass of wine; there was nary a thing that wasn't shrouded in gleams. You tugged the cloak closer to your chest, your red-fingered gloves peeking out slightly over the cover's fur. 

The white marble of the ball clicked against your heels, the sound barely making a dent in the noise amidst the tinkling of glass and chatter of braggarts. The crystal chandelier hung high above your heads, much grander than you had been able to see through the window. The wall adjacent to the window was coated in a mirage of colors, gasoline and water appearing to collide against the cream-colored wall; the chandelier reflected the city's light onto everything you couldn't touch. There was red tapestry with golden trims hanging from every ceiling corner, the drapes on the upstairs windows matching the same hue. Several large round tables with chairs encompassing them took up the other half of the room, each of the mahogany pieces of furniture coupled with red upholstery. The tables were covered with egg-shell linens, with varying-sized candles and fancy mints as the centerpieces. Behind the mass of tables, an extensive buffet accompanied by a bar with several hard-working attendants bustles with life. 

Surrounding the room's perimeter, pedestals displaying different art pieces, each with their own strange haecceity, sat behind a red velvet rope. It could have been a joke if some of these entrepreneurs were smart enough to understand it. Priceless pieces of work, hand-sculpted or painted through painstaking hours, in a room where no one will buy them because they already have too much but are the only ones financially capable of doing so. The rope does little to stop anyone, mainly because no one needs to be stopped. You wondered how many of these Tony owned. Several people waltzed towards you, and Loki guided you out of the way before your staring had caused an accident. 

You glanced up and hooked your fingers around the crook of Loki's arm. The gesture was customary for those attending a party, you told yourself, although your heart began to race. A work party, with work friends, for work-related business. He was warm. You couldn't know if you imagined it, but as you brought your other hand to hold Loki's arm, you could have sworn you felt his elbow stiffen. As you watched his fingers ball into a fist, wonted for a nobleman's hold, you smirked. 

"If I didn't know better, I would have mistaken you for a gentleman," you teased, squeezing his elbow. 

Loki fought the smile that tugged at the corners of his lips. He leaned close to you. "I'll remind to you watch your tone, darling. You wouldn't want me to make a show of you in public, now would you?"

"Loki," you swatted at him, and he laughed. "God, you know, one day I'm going to get you back for everything."

"Hah! Do you surely believe I would let that happen? That will be the day where I will personally bring you well within inches of your life. You're better off wiping that thought from your consciousness." 

Though your stomach flipped at his threat, you bumped your eyebrows. "Why? Can't handle it?" 

"My, you must have a death wish tonight." 

"Or, you're covering up the fact that you're ticklish." 

Truthfully, it was the first time the thought had come to mind and the first thing you blurted out, but as you saw how Loki's features fell and landed on you with a cold stare, you knew you had discovered something you shouldn't have. Deciding to dig your grave further, you rubbed at his side lightly with your wrist, but he made no move to indicate it bothered him.  

Loki scoffed and shrugged. "You assumed incorrectly, love." 

"Oh, please. I'm not even trying," you said. "I'll have my chance eventually." 

"Don't be so certain." 

Loki led you around crowded tables and dancers to the table designated to the team, some with plates of food and a few others scattering themselves around the room to make small talk. Bruce nodded at Natasha and pushed out his seat, standing up and walking towards the bar, although an iced whiskey idled in front of his chair. Loki pulled out a chair for you, and you thanked him before he sat himself down as well. The party felt smaller in this quiet corner of the room, and you couldn't make out if the feeling in your gut was a good or bad one. On the one hand, the swarm of people dancing obstructed your view of the musicians, something that wouldn't have commonly troubled others; as a spy, the best advantage was being aware of your surroundings. Crowds were easy to get lost in, chaotic enough to cover damage, loud enough to

"Hey," Natasha's cold fingers on the top of yours yanked you from your thoughts. As you looked at her, you caught a flash of concern contorting her face before she let her features soften. "Would you mind going to get me a glass of wine? I sent Bruce over there a few minutes ago, but he's nerding out with one of the sponsors," Natasha nodded to her left. As though on queue, the elderly sponsor conversing about what sounded like microbiology cackled with glee. 

You took a breath and nodded, patting her hand with a smile as you stood. You didn't notice, but as Loki stepped up to follow you, Natasha put her hand up. Tentatively, he lowered himself back into his seat, watching as you regretfully were pulled into the boisterous conversation alone. What you knew about microbiology, Loki had no clue, but your confident air could have fooled the most observant of personalities. Not him, of course. 

The scowl that replaced Natasha's gentle smile meant business; it was not difficult to know that. What could she have possibly wanted with him, Loki wondered. He sat back in his seat and crossed his arms. Their body language was not too far off from synchronized, though Loki's was easily more curious rather than the agent's criticality. 

Natasha pulled the whiskey from Bruce's placemat, her nails clinking against the glass as she took a sip. Her icy stare left Loki as she looked away for a brief moment to align the cup's base precisely into the water-logged imprint it had left on the table. 

"What are your intentions with her?" The agent asked bluntly. 

"I beg your pardon?" Loki's face scrunched into an offended glare. The audacity this woman must have had to inquire about his relationships. His private life. Although he found himself putting on a defensive exterior, the energy it had taken to suppress his affections for you had grown exponentially in the past few months; he knew that as a fact.   

"Save it. I've seen the way you look at each other. You'd have to be blind not to pick up on it." Natasha smirked. 

"I suppose you'd be the expert in such things?" Loki challenged, targeting a sore spot in the agent's psyche.

"Cool it," she warned, leaning her elbows onto the table. "I'm not threatening you. Though if you hurt her, I may just have to."

"I believe that is a threat, agent."

"I just want to know what your intentions are." 

"I have no intentions," He paused, glimpsing at your considerate smile amid your conversation. "You sent her away on purpose," Loki concluded, tilting his chin towards his chest. "You didn't want her to be a part of this conversation." 

"No," Natasha confirmed. "I don't care if you admit your feelings or not. It's not my business. But you should know that she's not going to admit to hers." 

Loki debated on disguising his feelings once more but realized its futility. His front had long been exposed. His eyebrows furrowed. "How could you possibly know that?"

"She has a long history. It's not my story to tell, but," She pushed herself away from the table and stood up. "If you honestly have no intentions, then you're already playing with her feelings."

"I am by no means-" 

"I'm just going to cut to the chase," Natasha said with finality in her tone. "If you hurt her, I won't hesitate to kill you where you stand." Without another word nor sound, Natasha slipped away into the crowd of people who danced not ten feet from where the table was set, her near-empty glass of whiskey being the only reminder that she had been there at all. 

The accusation had left a bitter taste in Loki's mouth. The fact that Natasha had been able to read him so quickly... the fact that he let himself be that easy to read, it stirred itself into a large knot in Loki's head. Exponentially, he began to realize just how effortless it was to be softened by one's time on Midgard. Earth had made him weak, and the god scowled at the thought. His brother had gone through the same sort of conundrum when he was first outcasted from Asgard, and Loki had mocked him for it. Ironic, considering there had been a time where Loki protected the one his brother loved. 

Could he even call this love - this rogue infatuation with you? What was love but the fascination with someone who makes you feel at home? Or was it that he had just never been able to experience what love actually stirred inside of its victims? Loki had known several individuals in his life that he had been romantically attracted to, most of them immortal, and yet something was disastrously captivating about you. His head was on a pully system. Loki had been raised a prince; he had danced with many maidens, and all of those maidens he had consequently rejected. Now, here comes this mortal who fights for his enemies, and he loses his speech at your mere presence.  Prior, Loki supposed. What had happened? The second his thoughts would wander, the string wrapped around his emotions would stretch taut, and he would be brought back to the same distracting ideas of your delineation. 

The music crescendoed again, a few brass instruments holding the melody as the crowd responded in time. Some of them even jumped, a select few of them being caught and lowered back to the floor by their partner's hands around their waists. It certainly wasn't the first time he had thoughts like these, his hands holding your body close to his. While these fantasies held true to their name, there were always brief moments in history where fantasies teetered on the edge of being truthful. This was one of those moments, where flashes of magic slip through cracks and crevices, stealing its way into naive hearts. Before, he had described to you that your world had been filled with magic, and part of him wondered if you believed him. A significantly smaller portion of him deliberated if you believed in fairytales.

A bartender ornamented in an obscene amount of brightly colored pins slid a glass of deep red wine to you from across the bar, and you nodded at her with a friendly smile, returning to your conversation with Bruce and the elderly sponsor. Now that he looked at it, the man who conversed with you was not elderly by any means. His hair was thinning and gray, his hands adorned with at least six gleaming golden rings per hand. The man's fingers hung loosely by his side, your dress just blocking Loki's view of the man's jewelry. Loki scoffed and picked up the glass of whiskey, downing it in one gulp. A child could have guessed that Earth's finest liquors weren't enough to even touch an Asgardian's alcohol tolerance, but he felt the need to have something in his stomach other than his nerves. 

The man reached around behind his chair, stealing peaks at your face as the conversation continued. Something about his body language disturbed Loki, mainly because he had seen the same impish behavior in himself once upon a time. The man lifted his fingers and reached to the rear of your dress, gathering his hand and pinching your behind. 

Loki didn't have the wits about him to see you backhand the man yourself, effectively taking care of the problem without anyone's assistance. However, as the man reached up to grab his face where your hand had left a blazing red mark, Loki gripped the man's wrist and tore him from his seat, flinging him onto the ground. In less than a second, Loki had thrown the man onto the carpeted floor with a slamming thud and stepped his left heel onto the offending wrist, holding the man's other arm as he stood. The conniption had captivated the attention of a small crowd, some dancers slowing their movements and hushing their voices to eavesdrop on the disarray. The sponsor cried out and grunted against Loki's weight as he heavied himself. 

"I'll make you an offer," Loki snarled as he pressed his weight down into the man's wrist, making the sponsor splutter and curse beneath him. This felt familiar. "If you leave, you get to keep your fingers. If you give anyone," Loki hardened his grip. "...any difficulties upon your exit, I will not hesitate to take off your arm." 

Okay, maybe it wasn't the kindest thing to do, you argued with yourself as Loki threw down the offender's arm. Your torso was slouched across the bar, a wineglass rim and a smirk pressed to your lips as you watched the scuffle from afar. I mean, he did assault you. Then again, you also attacked him back. Maybe it's just karma. The man pushed himself about five feet away from Loki, his hair disheveled and his shirt untucked. After unsuccessfully pushing himself up a few times, he finally was able to stand himself upright, flustered and offended. For a second, you thought that he was going to try to attack Loki, the way he squared his shoulders and his face beating red. He wouldn't have stood a chance against a God, but part of you wondered if the sponsor even knew of Loki's status. Getting in a fight with an agent of the Avengers was one thing. One very mighty thing, of course. However, getting into an altercation with an Avenger who additionally was quasi-immortal didn't make for a brilliant choice. 

The man eyed you hesitantly. You raised your glass to him, bumping your eyebrows as he mumbled and turned away to walk to the door. Loki stood rigidly in place as the crowd of dancers parted way for the instigator to pass through. Some of them had shrugged and immediately returned to dancing; most had returned to their tables, seeking sustenance after having witnessed something that intense. The bar became instantly busier as a myriad of wealthy individuals thronged to get inebriated. You slipped away between expensive coats back to the table, placing your wine glass in front of your seat. What a party. You haven't even been here for an hour, and you've already caused a bar fight.

"Loki," you called, his attention snapping to you. 

The group of morbidly curious onlookers had since dissipated, leaving him standing between the wooden dance floor and the carpeted dinner area alone. He shook his head and trotted to the table, placing his palms on the back of his chair. "If this was an Asgardian gathering, he would have had his fingers cut off for such an offense. Are you alright?" 

You shrugged, offering a sympathetic smile. "It's not abnormal to get a creepy guy at a party." 

Yes, it was, Loki told himself. The culture shock of these realms was a personal hell, sometimes. "Yes, well, I'm sorry it was you who had to deal with that." 

You barked a sardonic laugh. "All I did was slap the guy. You're the one who knocked a few teeth loose." You paused, running your thumb across the top rail, pulling out the chair a bit. You unhooked the cloak and hung it over the chair, shuddering at the lost warmth. "I guess I owe you a 'thanks.'"

Loki peered at you. "You're not upset?" 

"No, but I'm kind of curious what he would have done after I slapped him," you chuckled and shrugged, looking down into your wine. "Tony may be another issue. He did tell us to be nice to his sponsors."

"I'm sure Stark will understand the circumstances." 

"You better hope so. He's probably going to receive a strongly worded email by next week." 

"I'd bet sooner than that." 

You both shared a short laugh. The party had started to calm down a bit, most of the patrons choosing a meal over their fanciful footwork, but a few couples still swayed together, the womens' rounded dresses ruffling outwards as they spun. You made a move to pull out your chair to sit down, and Loki faltered, a conflicted look set into his brow. The music came to a gradual silence, only the sharp ringing of a violin's highest string echoing throughout the room. As much as he hated to admit it, Natasha was right. It had to be now or never, and if he waited much longer, he ran the risk of hurting you. Though he was not frightened of Natasha's threat, Loki did not appreciate the anger boiling in his gut when imagining himself being the source of your pain.

Meanwhile, the music exploded into a dazzling symphony of strings. It hushed soon after, the tempo of the song slowing.  "Before you sit," he ventured. "While threatening the lives of your foes is fiercely entertaining, we do have another two hours before we're to be dismissed. If you're willing, would you care to join me for a dance?" 

"Oh, Loki, you don't have to. It's really okay," You yammered, your hands coming up in front of you. There was no possible way he was asking you to dance. Sure, he had asked you to accompany him to the ball, but you thought that it had been in passing or a kind gesture to help you feel better. Even so, as you caught the subtle stress that immersed into his brow, it hit you. This was genuine. He was being honest. Your heart thumped in your chest, and you prayed that the flushing in your ears was not apparent. 

"You misunderstand," Loki said and offered his hand out, secretly confirming your suspicions. "I'm sure of my actions." 

A half-formed thought lodged itself in your throat, and your mouth became dry. You reached up and tentatively rested your fingers in Loki's outstretched hand. His fingers folded delicately onto yours, the temperature of his fingers drastically different than your own. The world was slow despite your wine having been practically untouched, but your heartbeat intense. He held your hand with a thin smile, leading you through dancing sponsors to an abandoned spot in the corner of the room. 

As you passed, skirts of varying colors and designed dresses brushed against your ankles. It was remarkable how little attention these so-called sponsors paid to any of the Avengers. Getting through thick crowds should not have been this easy, especially with people of your and Loki's repute...or any of your team for that matter. Despite the fact, you were able to spot a conversation between Sam and Bucky, Bruce and Natasha swaying in the other corner of the room, and Tony introducing Peter to a stranger with large glasses. You even noticed a dejected-looking Thor who sat with Steve at the table you had just been taken from. 

The floor of the designated dancing area bloomed in color as if a craftsman had spent hours painting a watercolored landscape onto the glossed wood. The ground was the only thing you could focus on as he led you in and out of sponsors, weaving through endless people. When you finally reached the unoccupied spot in the corner, Loki turned around with an expectant smirk, your hand still in his. 

"Have you danced before?" 

No. "Absolutely." 

"Then you know the steps?" He approached you, placing a steady hand on your waist, and you instinctually reached your empty hand to rest on his arm. His cologne or perhaps his natural scent permeated the air, and you desperately attempted to feign a composed expression. He slowly lifted your hand in the air, stepping a bit forward. He stopped for a moment and chuckled to himself, cocking his eyebrow at you. "You expect me to believe you've done this before? Or am I making you nervous?" 

"Wh-what? I'm not nervous, Loki." you reddened. Everything was happening rapidly and not fast enough at the same time. Part of you yearned to be closer to him, to press his chest to yours, to feel his frigid fingers tangled with yours. Still, you couldn't move. Was it rude to examine a God's face? Maybe, but his eyes were just as alluring as they were bright, and his skin practically glowed under the room's multicolored spotlights. 

"But, I'm correct in assuming you've never danced," Loki predicted. 

"Yes," you sighed. "I'd be lying if I said I knew what I was doing. I haven't danced with anyone since Carter Gurts in the seventh grade." 

Loki chuckled and dipped his chin to his chest, gently beginning to lead you in his waltz-like steps. "Carter Gurts?" 

"Don't even get me started," you groaned, doing your best to ignore his proximity to you. "It was my middle school formal. He got nervous and threw up," you cringed. 

"That's repulsive." 

"Tell me about it." 

Loki bit the inside of his cheek, studying your features. "I can promise you that we won't repeat that little memory," he laughed. Your face lit up into a bright and cheerful giggle, and you thanked him for his sensitivities. 

He pushed you outwards and wrapped his arm over your head and around your back, keeping his hand in yours. You followed his direction and were taken into a spin, your dress fluttering outwards. When you turned to face your partner again, you tripped on a rogue plank of wood that peaked out just an inch higher than the others. You fell forward, wrapping your arms around Loki's neck to steady yourself. Loki caught your bodice, and you two fell into an embrace. 

"You know, if you hadn't fallen over yourself, we may have been able to pass that off as deliberate," Loki grinned. You scoffed and rolled your eyes. 

Norns, you were beautiful. 

Your eyes glistened as the light of a yellow spotlight coruscated over your forehead, fading into the sea of colors behind you. Loki wanted to stay like this forever. Why did he feel like he had lived this moment before? How warm you were compared to him and how soft your hands were compared to his calloused skin. It was ironic, considering how much dirty work you had to do as a spy. He wondered if you noticed, but you didn't, nor did he feel how your body trembled. Your smile had turned his words into sticky sweet syrup, but he refused to rid the taste of you. It was as though all those stories he told as a child had come to reality, fables of finding love and princesses in different worlds. Those apple trees had borne more than just their fruit, uncovering glimpses of his future love. Archaic swatches of color mingled around each other in passing visions that he couldn't make out. All he understood at the time was that those perceptions had somehow comforted him. Now, he understood that he had seen you. 

There were certain things that Loki had taken pride in - one of those things being that he never made the first move. But here and now, as he fell deeper and deeper, he found himself desperate to explore you. He took his hand from yours and reached to your jaw, gently tracing along the bottom of your cheek. He outlined your chin and hesitated over your lips with his thumb. You were so tempting. He faltered, placing his palm at the base of your neck. 

The piano and orchestra had long fallen into the background noise of the party, though sometimes the music would increase in volume and disturb your thoughts. Now was not one of those times. Loki's lips brushed against yours, and as the music crescendoed for the final time in the song, you closed the short space between you, sealing the kiss. You debated pulling away for a moment, but feeling the passion and drive behind his kiss, you allowed yourself to sink further into the heat of the moment. Butterflies spurred to life in your stomach. Loki's lips were softer than you would have imagined, and you felt the heated gust of his breath against your skin. He was the first to pull back, but he remained close to you, cupping your jaw in his hands as the music stirred into what felt like a celebratory chorus. He rubbed the edge of your cheek with his thumb and gazed into your eyes.

"You're as red as your dress, darling," Loki quipped, his brow turning inwards. 

"Can you blame me?" You reached up and put a hand on his. "Is this really how you feel?" It was a question that may have been interpreted as insecure, but you couldn't care at this moment. You had spent countless amounts of time pondering over these types of possibilities. Falling in love, dancing, even sheltering a (substantial) crush on Loki. Never in a million years did you think it would actually happen. The trickster's eyes had always given away his secrets; you had been able to learn his mannerisms and some of his 'tells' from the sheer amount of time you two spent in each other's company.  Standing in front of him with his eyes more avid than you had ever seen them, you finally let down your guard. 

"I think a better question is if you feel the same way," He removed his palms from your jaw and placed them both at your waist, staring eagerly into your eyes. 

"I would have left if I wasn't feeling it, Loki," you laughed. 

"So then you did?" 

"Did what?" 

"Feel it." 

In all reality, there wasn't a need to put your feelings into words - that could be saved for a better time. You nodded at Loki, the elated grin you wore answering every question he needed to know. He quickly took his hands and placed them on the sides of your head, bringing you in for a chaste kiss. 

Who were you two but oil and water; both inherently deadly from two different worlds with individually unique lifespans.  How the universe could have arranged something like this to happen was something foreign to you. Every moment in time had aligned for this to be a reality, a thought too implausible to even discuss. 

He replaced his fingers on your waist and squeezed, lifting you up and twirling you around him. In an entirely involuntary response, you squeaked and tucked your elbows, giggling as his thumbs dug into your sides. The sudden motion set Loki off balance, and he struggled to put you down softly instead of dropping you. Shit. This was not the place. The severity of the situation dawned on you only milliseconds earlier than Loki, and a conniving grin replaced his solicitous look.

"Uh oh," Loki tantalized, refreshing his grip on your torso. With his thumbs perched at the sides of your belly, he dug in the slightest bit, and you jumped at the same time your elbows fell inwards. "Are you alright, love? Something bothering you?" 

"Loki, not right now," You scolded him, failing to conceal your silly expression. "We can't--" 

"Draw attention?" Loki interrupted. Leaning close, he brought his forearm around your back, pulling you as tight as possible. The light and dainty music, obviously made for a romantic type of dance, was the perfect excuse to have you as close as you were to him. "My dear, this party was held with the intention of showing you off. You truly think I care about a bit of an audience?"  His whispers were hot in your ear, and goosebumps dispersed over your arms like the cape he had conjured for you.

"Okay, you may not, but I do," You giggled, putting your hands on his chest to push away. You did your best to dispel any lewd thoughts that came up, but his chest was substantially firm behind your touch, and you abruptly realized that you didn't want to move.

"How foolish to think you have much choice in the matter," He taunted, his fingers now skittering to life and scratching at your lower ribs. Attempting to cover your giggles with a cough didn't do as much as you had hoped. His proximity to your body prevented you from moving either forwards or backward, as his forearm had tightened behind your back, forcing you to press into him. 

"Wahait, Lokhihihi!" You halfheartedly pleaded, twisting your torso a bit to see the other patrons. Luckily, no one had paid any attention to your laughter, too busy with their own to focus on someone else's disorder. 

To your chagrin, as you turned, Loki took the opportunity to walk his fingers up to the base of your armpit, scribbling in the hollow space with a wicked grin. You were instantly thrown into hysterics, your arms coming down to your sides in defense. As much as you did your best to hold in your noises, every few seconds, you'd chortle louder than you had intended. Some people would occasionally throw snide looks your way but return their attention in moments.   

"You do realize that this is payback," Loki noted. 

"Whahat?! Fohor- fahahaha - Shit, Loki!" 

"That little stunt," He emphasized his point by pulling you tighter against his body, shaking two fingers against the edge of your upper ribs. You squeaked and dissolved into helpless giggling. "...you drew in the hallway before. Trying to tickle me - the god of mischief, of all people. And in public, might I add. It's a shame, really," Loki baited, trailing his hand down and pinching at the meat above your hip. "You are so intelligent, and yet you do such stupid things."

You bucked against him, the fabric of your dress limiting any protection against his fingers. There was nowhere to go that he would allow, and the reality of the power he held sank in. As your laughter grew in volume, so did the heat that ran over your cheeks. "N-nahahaha...NNG! NOHOHO-" As to hide the violent eruption that echoed over the orchestra, you buried your face into Loki's shoulder, still fumbling for a desperate grip on his skittering hands. It was the only thing you could think of to muffle the racket as he turned his attack to the sliver of skin where your side met your back. Your laughter was nearing desperate, and your urge to scream only heightened along with it. 

"Careful, darling," He whispered, stilling his fingers. His words were betrayed by the smile lacing his diction. "Don't want to cause a scene, now do we?"

"It's your fauhault that I am!" You mumbled into his chest. 

A dark growl of a chuckle escaped his sigh, and he coiled his assaulting arm around you, holding you close. Embracing Loki felt like two worlds colliding, something strange and beautiful but deep-seated and dangerous. His touch was powerful and hungry. He bore years of solitude and loneliness under his nails, all crashing down into one hug that was sure to be among others. You knew that he had missed years of feeling the closeness of intimacy, and truth be told, your situation was not much different. Those years, poisoned by fragments of shattered memories, had hardened you beyond reason. There would be one day when you were able to explain what had happened, but not even you were ready to face those recollections just yet. For now, your mind was occupied by his presence. 

Loki intertwined his fingers between yours, pushing your right shoulder out, and your arms stretched tautly but never severed the connection. The song that played was recognizable, some alteration of Pachabel's Canon in D that the piano took melody on. Your body floated through the notes, spiraling back into his hold once again, his arm enclosing you. His breath on the back of your neck pierced your skin, but before the chills had fully erupted, Loki lifted his arm that was still wrapped around you, forcing you into a frail spin.

When your chest collided with his, you bit the corner of your mouth, desperate to lean forward. The tension between you two was visible, and faster than you had intended, your lips pressed into his again. Heaven was either tellurian or somewhere tucked away in Asgard, and his hands on your hips confirmed that paradise could never be found at home. Not allowing yourself to dive too deep just yet, you pulled away, his head hesitating to follow your lips as he gazed at you. The longing in his eyes burrowed far into you, and you smiled, reaching up to take his jaw in your hands. How kind and loving he looked at you as if one glance could hold a thousand words, or though your fairytale had woven itself into the pages of real life.

"Can we just leave?" You said fervently. "I don't want to be here much longer."

He caught the pangs of longing in your stare and smirked in response. "Desire me all to yourself, hm?" 

"Don't be ridiculous," You groaned and sucked your teeth, trying to hide the blush from creeping onto your face. Even though you had feigned defensive, Loki had called you out, putting your thoughts that you hadn't even pieced together on a bold display. It wasn't that he was right...but he certainly wasn't incorrect either. The thought of having Loki alone was enticing, and he was the only one who could get you to admit it. 

Though you both had undoubtedly had enough of the gathering, Loki had mentioned Stark's makeshift "party guide" that kept you confined to the grounds until eight. Time had been swept by the rather eventful evening, but you were still an hour away from being dismissed. That meant more time striking conversations with sponsors...or worse, you thought, having to deal with the crew now that both of your feelings had been publicized. The floor had been mostly abandoned, save you and a few stray couples who mingled rather than danced. The sun had cast an amber hue over the furniture and faces, some portions of the room painted in a discolored brown as the stained glass windows mixed with the sun's natural vibrancy.

The hour had not taken as long as it felt, and you were grateful that Loki had taken control over most of the conversations. It must have been a miracle or at least inside-knowledge that he would be attending, as most patrons didn't bat an eye when giving his two cents on specific subjects. All the while, Loki would keep a protective hand around your waist, never breaking his concentration from his discourse. Several speeches were given in the final hour, mostly droning orations congratulating Tony on the proceeds raised. While the number had been shocking to hear at first, you pondered how much money could actually be spared from these people. The thought nauseated you, and you turned your head away from the lengthy addresses. Not ten minutes away from eight, Tony placed his cup down on the bar counter with a thud, leaning over and falling into a drunken giggle. Pepper was barely a foot away, attempting to pull him out of his seat with pursed lips. 

You nodded at him as his glass fell to the floor with a crash. "Wasn't he the one who told us not to get shitfaced? And I thought he told us they already did the speeches?"

"He did," Steve said, taking a swig of his beer from his spot at the table. "Everyone who's been at that podium has had a few. They're mainly Tony's buddies." 

"That explains it," You mumbled and took a sip of your wine. "Are we really the sober ones here? I know you can't get drunk, and no alcohol here that Thor and Loki have is gonna do a thing." 

Bruce scoffed. "You'd think the Avengers would be the real partiers, considering the whole 'saving the world' thing."

"One of us is, that's for sure," Natasha chuckled, glancing over her shoulder at a messy-looking Tony who was being led out the front exit, clinging to Pepper. "I guess we're gonna have to find our hotel rooms ourselves." 

"I think I can actually help with this," Peter muttered, focusing onto Tony and Pepper, who stumbled over themselves as they slipped through the hall's archway. Before you could figure out what was happening, Peter pressed a button tucked close to his wrist, and webbing shot out in a thin, almost transparent line from the opposite side of the table, weaving through the crowd. The spurt of webbing connected with a small manilla envelope in the back of Tony's pocket and stuck, snapping it backward and straight into Peter's hands. He smiled cheerfully as the table watched him, both shocked and impressed. 

"What...did you just do?" Sam questioned, his brow pressed in confusion. 

"Oh, right," Peter quickly went to work, opening the envelope he had stolen off of Tony and spilling its contents out onto the table. Eight pale blue cards slipped out of their yellow casing, each with its own number labeled on a gray stripe. "They're the keys. I think there's enough for each of us, but I'm not sure." 

"What about Tony and Pepper?" Steve questioned.

"Oh! Mr. Stark actually had his key around his neck, so I think these are all ours."

Steve nodded and bumped his eyebrows. "Nice work, kid," he said, trying to hide his surprise.

"That was really cool. Never do it again," Clint laughed and patted Peter on the shoulder. 

"If I may," Loki spoke, casting his glance down to the cards. He looked at everyone at the table, his look holding for a moment longer on you than the others. "There are eight keys and nine of us. Unless Stark had the intention of having two of us share a room, that leaves one odd man out." 

He was right. For the nine people who sat at the table, one of you would have to room together. The most reasonable option would have had the brothers stay together, but as the suggestion exited Thor's mouth and he was given a discouraging glare on Loki's part, the proposal fell short. 

Truthfully, the thought was inappropriate, and the idea of the team's possible reactions coursed through your mind. But even if...it wasn't the worst thing ever. "What if," you began. "Loki and I room?"  Though a few at the table shot wary looks your way, you weren't met with the strong discouragement as you expected. Loki was the only person to truly grasp the arrangement, whose eyes went wide. 

Steve was not one known to be protective in the nuances of life such as these. More often than not, you found Steve taking on a  'DYI'-dad role, using encouraging phrases to help guide others instead of demands. Appreciated most of the time, his suggestions were typically on track with their respective solutions, but as he eyed you from his spot at the table, something boiled in your gut. You knew the team's wary opinions of the god, and when Loki caught sight of the super-soldier's leer, he fought off a snarl. Though the man's following words were easy to predict, it did not stop them from bruising his ego. 

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" Steve said more as a statement than a question, avoiding eye contact with Loki. The tense silence spoke volumes. 

You pursed your lips, wanting to snap back at him. I think it's really rude that you would insinuate any wrongdoings, you wanted to say; that it was his job as the team leader to accept and work with everyone on the team, even if that meant it included something in their past. Loki had been on the team well before you had, so the notion that you would be unsafe was wildly offensive. Although, you could see where he came from. Steve was the one to see Loki in action all those years ago. While you were not afraid of his past and sins, you had no right to comment on how someone else felt about them, especially those who fought personally against his tyranny. There was no clear answer. 

You cleared your throat, interrupting a breath that Loki took to speak. "Respectfully," you said. "Loki and I have been on precisely thirty-two missions before, thirty-two of those missions being successful with minimal casualties," It would have been enough if you had left it there. Your point was proven, which was evident by Loki's triumphant and slightly presumptuous grin at Steve. Even so, there was an urge to express the accuracies of that statement and emphasize it, so it would show just how confident you were to Steve. "I would trust him with my life," you concluded, earning a surprised expression from most at the table.

Your face flushed under their stares, but most of them quickly returned to their own doings aside from Steve, Loki, and Natasha who sucked on her teeth to prevent a smile. Steve looked at you, appearing more ashamed than annoyed, catching you off guard. Despite Loki's cocky grin that he hastily threw, Steve nodded at him and then returned to you with a shameful expression. "You're right," he said. "You both are a crucial part of the team." 

"Just take off the 'big-brother' pants, okay? I know what I'm doing," You lowered your voice as to not embarrass him. Steve nodded and offered an apologetic smile which you returned sincerely.  

Even though Loki was humbled by your desire to assist him and make amends, it didn't take a genius to figure out that he had caused irreversible damages in his past. While he didn't mind being feared overall (and got a kick out of it often), he had come this far, and the concept of mistrust still being present created animosity. He imagined those years ago, standing atop the buildings in the same city he was in. Midgard's people had looked like ants from up there, at least until Tony Stark had smashed his skull through a building window. He chuckled. Good times. But things were different now that he had changed. He had protected a world he had once promised to conquer, protected people vowed to slaughter, and now he found himself only wanting to surmount one lone matter in this world. One lone person. It irritated him, the fact that his thoughts always returned to you. 

Loki sucked in a breath and pushed out his seat, using two fingers to slide over a key card from the pile. He eyed the card, then stood up, adjusting his tie. "On that note, I'll be making my exit," he announced. The rest of the table bid farewell to him and wished him a good night, which he nodded in return. When he was confident that most had gone back to either eating or idle chatter, he walked the perimeter of the table, stopping behind you and leaning down to whisper. 

"Would you like to accompany me to our suite?" he breathed. "Or do you have better plans?"  His hot breath shot chills down your collar. 

Biting your lip to fight off a grin, you followed Loki's example and stood from your chair, throwing the cloak over your shoulders. "I think I'm gonna head out too. Does anyone know what time the limo is leaving?" you asked in a small attempt to change the potential course of conversation.

"O-eight-hundred. Bright and early," Bucky said with a mouth full of sushi, pointing an accusatory chopstick at you. "And you two behave."

You laughed and rolled your eyes, hooking your fingers onto Loki's elbow crook. "Relax, Barnes," you huffed. "It'll be fine. Goodnight everyone," Once you had earned your responsive chorus of adieus, Loki turned and led you through the sea of tables and dancers and out into the brisk northeastern air. 

The hotel was further than you had first presumed, being a block down from the venue. The tinges of orange had long left the sky, replaced by black skies and illuminations of electronic billboards that changed images every few seconds. There were a few billboards like the one you had seen when you initially arrived, most of the pictures being of Steve or Tony, which made you chuckle. The action-hero stances or dramatic portraits always made them look more grave than they both were. Maybe not Steve; Steve perpetually looked as if someone poured water in his cereal. You pointed them out as Loki led you down the sidewalk in drastically gaudier clothes than each character who passed you by. 

The hotel was complicated to find, as every building in New York seemed to resemble the next. Decorated by colossal flags signs displaying the hotel's name you didn't attempt to pronounce, the entrance was less conspicuous than imagined. The only things that gave away the hotel's lucre were the bellhops, attendants, and guests who exited and entered nonchalantly. Each wore business suits, tuxes, or luxurious pelts. It was apparent why Tony chose a place like this. Part of you wondered if this would draw attention to the Avengers, and another part of you tried to forget that you'd be at risk wherever you went. You knew what you had gotten yourself into when you had joined, so the constant life-being-in-danger thing was essentially a norm. 

The hotel lobby was designed with an affluent-business aesthetic, adding on a couple of million dollars. Your heels clicked against the polished marble as you entered, a golden yellow cross-hatching with blue stripes in the center embellishing the design. Despite the amber-colored ceilings being a bit low, a crystal chandelier hung from its freshly wiped canopy. Several potted planted were tucked away in alcoves carved into the off-white walls, two ivory armchairs placed below them with a small coffee table in between. The ambiance was cozy, and a fireplace surrounded by several leather loveseats crackled on the far left wall of the room. 

As you checked in, a clerk with a black, coily coiffure spoke something into a walkie-talkie and returned to you with a smile. "Just making sure your respective bags get to your room. The elevator to your right will take you to the fourth floor. I understand that you have a party of...eleven?"

"I believe that's correct," Loki confirmed. 

"All the rooms are side by side and connected by the living rooms. You'll just have to open the door from both sides. Please don't hesitate to call if something's wonky. Enjoy your stay," the clerk said, sliding you a laminated list of numbers to call in every scenario possible. 

Loki took the list and tucked it into his jacket, looking down at you and giving a reassuring smile. "Are you alright?" He asked as he led you onto the elevator. He pressed a button, and the doors slid shut.

"Yeah," you took a deep breath. "Even on my missions, I don't think I've ever had to pretend to be someone this rich." 

Loki hummed. "You would have completed the mission regardless. I've visited lavatories classier than this."

"You're a prince from a different planet," you laughed.

He chuckled, "I'm well aware."

"It has to count for something," There was no point in not being honest with him. The hotel and the party were both grand gestures, but everything was becoming a bit much. "I guess I'm a bit overwhelmed," you confessed. "A lot happened tonight."

Loki tilted his head to look at you. His brow furrowed, then changed into something sympathetic. "Yes, it's been an eventful day."

The hotel room was easier to find than the hotel. A pop machine whirred to life as it dispensed a can for a mother and her daughter, and the girl giggled with glee. You and Loki moved past them and onto a secondary hallway. You found your door, allowing Loki to open the room with a swipe of his key card. He pushed the door in, and you followed close behind. As expected, your luggage had been tucked neatly into a coat closet adjacent to the front door, hangers wobbling haphazardly as you opened its door. Some of you wondered how or who got your clothing together and packed away, but when you thought about it too hard, you became grossed out and decided to find something else to focus on.  

About three feet away from the door, a table made of dark wood sat at waist level, a rectangular basket of fancy liquors, and a mirror hanging behind it. You watched in the mirror as Loki closed the door behind you, and you shrugged off your cloak to drape it from a hanger. The floor was carpeted a sandy shade, expanding into what you assumed to be a bedroom to your left. On the opposite side of the room, the carpet halted at a living room with tan leather sofas, a desk, and a boxy television. 

Loki chuckled as you stared at yourself in the mirror, stripping himself of his jacket and hanging it beside your cloak. He breathed in deeply and stepped up behind you, sliding his hands over your waist and interlocking his fingers on your stomach. The feeling made you jump slightly, but you relaxed into his hold. He rested his face in the crook of your neck as you leaned your head back onto his shoulder, inhaling the freshened air of the hotel room. 

"It's quiet," you muttered, picking up a tiny bottle of whiskey with the silhouette of a red lion on an orange label.

Loki inhaled and lifted his chin, placing it gently on your shoulder. "I never pegged you as a whiskey person." 

"I'm not," you validated. Turning the bottle over in your fingers, you hummed and set it down. "I've never actually had the chance to try it. Or wanted to. One or the other." 

"I personally don't care for it much. Asgardian mead remains the nine realms most exquisite of spirits," Loki countered. He remained, standing with his skin pressed into yours. The mirror held the actualities of your own single universe, albeit small ones. Seeing the reflection of your body pushed against his own was something out of a story, and for a moment, he prayed to Odin that his visions hadn't been incorrect. The softness of your skin was unparalleled, he noted, taking a hand to drag against your outer upper arm. You shivered, making him smile into your neck. You smelled as though rich wine and amber and pear had clashed into one collaborative fragrance, a warm scent that reminded him of the gardens on Asgard. It was charming, to say the least.  "Would you like to take a moment to freshen up, darling?" He asked mainly out of courtesy.  

You hummed in thought, bumping your eyebrows with an appreciative smile. "Maybe in a few. I think I just want to get into comfy clothes." 

"That can be arranged," Loki said, taking the hand that had been dragging along your arm and flicking his fingers upwards. A fizzy green light bubbled at your feet, shrouding the two pairs of legs in chartreuse clouds that formed and rolled up your body. You fell a little flat as the heels you wore faded away, replaced with soft grey slippers that covered everything but your Achilles heel. You noticed that Loki's sophisticated dress shoes had also been transformed into black socks as the mist climbed higher. The magic passed over your torso and chest, momentarily blocking your view from the mirror. 

When the magic subsided, the tight feeling of your dress melted away into soft cotton that hugged your hips and shoulders. Loki had replaced your outfit with a black t-shirt that fell loose and a pair of plaid green and blue pajama pants that cuffed at your ankle. His outfit had changed as well; his suit morphed into a grey sweatshirt and black track pants. It was a peculiar look, seeing you both in such casual outfits, but it warmed something in your heart. You smiled, taking your hand and holding the side of his cheek, watching his expressions in the mirror. He smiled.

"You always did look better in green," he teased, pushing himself off of you to turn you around to face him. "I do wonder how you would look in Asgardian leather." 

You blushed at the mention of it and pushed at his chest. Despite the quip, you released a breathy laugh, "I think it would probably suit you better than me."

"Eheh," he laughed, placing a flat palm on your upper back to pull you closer. "Don't undersell yourself, dear. If there's one thing I'm sure of, it's that you would look ravishing, no matter the clothing you choose to wear," he said, rubbing a thumb along your cheek. "Or don't," he added with a smirk. 

You threw your head back and groaned, allowing his arms to support your weight. "I don't want you to keep thinking you can get away with that kind of stuff," you grumbled. The position you found yourself in was oddly reminiscent of the ballroom dance you shared. That same dance he had tickled you to pieces and embarrassed you in front of everyone, of course, but it had-

Wait. 

"Are you going to do anything to stop MEHE-" Loki immediately unhooked his arms from around your body as you skittered your fingers up his stomach. He stepped backward, expecting you to let go, but you followed his movements, and he stumbled against the wall. He sucked in his giggles and clasped your wrists in his hands, looking aghast. "I must warn you, love - you are not making a wise series of choices."

"I think you lied to me, Loki," you laughed in astonishment. You knew your hunch about Loki faking had been correct, or he at least was doing an impressive job at holding in his reactions at the party.

After readjusting his posture, he gripped your wrists tighter and jerked you close to him. You yelped, falling against his chest. With your fists and elbows tucked between his and your bodies, he growled a low chuckle into your ear, earning a snicker from you. As much as you wanted to push your head down, Loki simply didn't allow it. "I think you are walking on thin ice, pet," he whispered. "Do what you will. But I swear everything you do will be returned tenfold." 

You paused, taking a second to lean back and study his features. This was Loki we were talking about, and you had not only tickled him once today (or attempted), but now twice, and were expecting to get off the hook. Something as flirty and as torturous as tickling was indeed not below the trickster god. He stared deep into your eyes, deadly serious. When you didn't respond in time, Loki's threatening look softened. "No? Then let's begin," he said, smirking. 

Before you could ask what he was talking about, you felt something soft coil around your ankle, wrapping around and up your leg to mid-calf.  Your instincts forced out a scream and kick before you even had seen what it was, but when you looked down and saw a rolled-up bed sheet tied around your foot, you became confused. The corded sheet trailed in from the bedroom, disappearing behind the wall where you assumed the bed was. The only thing visible in the bedroom was a flat-screen television against the same wall as the door.  The confusion only lasted so long, as any thought was whisked from your head when the sheet tightened and yanked, throwing your weight to the floor. You screamed and fell with a thud as the long line of linen dragged you into the bedroom. 

Having been in a similar situation like this (Bali was probably the roughest mission thus far), you were able to get your bearings quickly. You used the momentum of the turn to flip onto your back, crunching up and reaching out to unhook the wrap. Before you could do much work, the direction of the pull changed, and you were hoisted suddenly into the air, your free leg bent at an awkward angle. With a heavy breath, you craned your neck to look at what held you. 

The sheet that rippled with green magic had been rolled tight, but you were able to see the unmade bed it originated from. There was a sofa black leather sofa that you had been dangled above, a coffee table and armchair a few feet away. If you fell, you were in for a soft landing, and seeing Loki's magic calmed your nerves a bit. It wouldn't have necessarily been a surprise if a rogue villain decided to literally crash the party or invade your hotel room; it wasn't the first to happen either way. Even so, the sneer that Loki held as he strolled into the room with his fingers laced behind his back did little to slow your pulse. 

"Stuck, are we?" He said, bumping his brow and looking down, the smirk never leaving his face. He stepped closer, and you thanked fate that the dragging had caused your shirt to catch under the elastic in your pants, keeping your midsection clothed. 

"Loki, put me down right now!" you scolded, but a few giggles slipped through your scowl. 

Loki tutted and strolled over to you, scanning your upsidedown body. You knew that Loki would never and has never done anything to hurt you, but despite that fact, you felt exposed. Gravity worked against you, making every movement intentional, forced, and tiresome. Dangling three feet off the floor by one leg would be easy for someone to get out of if they held a strong core, but getting out of it with your captor standing less than a foot away presented another obstacle. If he had made you fall, falling on a couch was undoubtedly better than landing on a hard floor.  However, Loki stayed still, watching your struggling form attempt to crunch to unwind the cloth from your leg. Gripping your pant leg, you opted to ignore him for the time being. You walked your hands up your leg, using it to sturdy yourself as you reached up and climbed the length of your body. 

Just as your fingertips grazed the hem of the sheet, the cloth rippled against your ankle, alive with bright green sparks. It slackened, and you felt a startling induction of gravity, but you were caught and snapped back down to your starting posture. You gasped and yelped as the sheet hoisted you higher. 

"Unfortunately for you," he stepped up to you, his shoulders slightly lower than parallel to your hips. Tantalizingly slow, he dragged two relaxed fingers against an exposed sliver of skin on your lower stomach. You shuddered a gasp and reached up to grab at him, but he had pulled away too quick. "I don't have any plans on releasing you any time soon."

"What are you talking ABOHOUT?!" If there was reason for trying to hold back your laughter, it was startled off by the boisterous laughter that erupted through the room as Loki set to work scratching at your stomach. His fingers danced around your navel, flitting down (or up, by your perspective) to flutter around your sternum. Giggles now pouring freely, your biceps already began to ache with the effort of swatting away his hands. Your mirth became frantic as the realization of just how much power he had over you sank into your spine. In a desperate reach to control what you could, you grabbed at his shirt and clutched at it. Loki mistook your grappling as an attack of your own, and he coughed out several short chuckles but caught your flailing wrists and held them in one fist. 

"Ohoho, poor choice after poor choice tonight," he looked incredulously at you.

The minute amount of protection your arms provided had been stolen from you in a blink of an eye. You choked out some giggles and felt your elevated pulse beneath his fingers, and you wondered if he could feel it too. Yet your laughing hadn't stopped. Although it was an exploitive and intense feeling, you didn't mind being tickled. You could feel the power beneath his palms, but his touch revealed something more genuine - more affectionate than spiteful. His hands grazed over your skin, and you wanted to drink in the feeling of his skin against you, but the tickling made that incredibly difficult. When his fingers tripped to a different spot and your energy spiked, his tongue would peak out between his teeth as he tried not to laugh along with you. One of those spots was an area of your upper ribs, right below the hollows of your armpit. Your giggles hitched, and you jerked away from him. He tapped the tip of his pointer nail against the sensitive skin gingerly, taking enjoyment in your desperation. 

"This ihisn't even fahahair!" you whined. "What I did wasn't nearly as bad as what you're doing!" 

"I did say that I would return your actions tenfold, did I not?" 

"Yeah, but-" 

"Then you understand that while I may not commonly be a man of my word, when it comes to making things fair, I care very deeply," he hummed, gripping your wrists tighter as he traced to the soft spot of your underarm. Your mind was fuzzy from the ticklish shocks slamming through your nerves, but his teasing did nothing for your aid. You pulled and yanked, but your strength against his was a game you were destined to lose. "If that means I must teach you a lesson about the natural consequences of your actions, so be it. Would you like me to list out the reasons for your discipline?" 

"NahahaHAHAHAHA NOHOHOHO!" you bellowed when he switched to vibrating his fingers under your exposed arms. He nudged the hem of your sleeve to the side, allowing his top digits to slip beneath the cover of your shirt and onto bare skin. 

"Does it not bother you that your enemies could unravel you by something as simple as this?" He pinched his hand up to your hips, and you cackled, struggling against your restraints. Though Loki wasn't one for mercy, his heart fluttered when he saw a happy tear escape from the apple of your cheek.

He also noted how red your face turned and recalled that humans didn't have the blood circulation strength required to be held at different gravities for extended periods. Without releasing your wrists, Loki commanded the sheet to set your back down against the couch, your head and shoulders touching down first, followed by the rest of your torso. The couches cooled leather startled you at first but swiftly came as a relief as your headrush began to fade away. You sucked in some greedy breaths and gradually opened your eyes before realizing that your one leg was still held in the air. Using his one free hand, he scratched delicately along the back of your knee. 

"KAHAHAHA, SHIHIHIT! Leheave mehehehe aloHONE!" Your free-hanging foot landed against the arm of the couch, pushing your hips up in pure instinct or to gain an ounce of leverage. It did nothing. 

"You are quite resilient, I must say. Then again, it could also just be that...you're enjoying this," Loki remarked, and you felt his thumb twitch against the bone of your wrist. 

Distracted by Loki's tickling fingers, the soft cotton that slid against the bottom of your sole was almost too faint to feel. That is... until it became more intentional. The first few flicks of the magic-bound sheets were nearly as mistakable as an accident, but when your eyes caught the glowing green light shifting around your toes and arch, your heart rate hitched, and your laugh took on a wheeze. The hemming of the sheet was significantly stiffer than the rest of the fabric, and feeling it scratch against your foot was practically unbearable. You kicked out and attempted to sit up, but your antics had sapped most of the energy from your body. 

"PLEHEHEASE! I AHAHAM NAHAHAHAT!" 

Loki scoffed with a heavy eye roll. There were things that Loki was, but a fool was not among those qualities. You were not one to hide your affection for those around you, a characteristic that made you all the more endearing. He had seen you push, play, and intentionally annoy the other Avengers into rough-housing, and they had always played along, happy to make a sturdy source of their joy content as well. Loki had not been kept a victim of your antics, and you were not below purposefully seeking him out to pester. "I'm just supposed to believe that?" 

"Yehehehes! This is torturhure," You chortled, which was a half-truth. 

"Fascinating," Loki leaned forward on the couch, looming over your frame. The angle of your trapped leg caused your hips to elevate off the sofa, your foot planted on the arm for support. To avoid hurting you, Loki made sure to press his weight into the upper part of your torso instead of the lower part to prevent any uncomfortable pull. Who would have thought he'd take care in the comfort of his own captive? Would Asgard crumble at the mere sight of its trickster haven fallen at the hands of something so ordinary? Could all evil not be subdued by the touch of one it loves? Perhaps it was possible. "And yet you've not once requested me to stop," Loki purred, bringing your hands up above your head though you thrashed and struggled and spewed with nervous tittering.

Your stomach dropped and swarmed with abashment. Saying that it was torture wouldn't have counted, nor the halfassed pleas you offered amongst your frenzy. Although Loki had made that a point, both his hands and cursed cloth slowed.

The sweat shinner across your brow, the way your chest heaved and retracted against the bunched-up fabric of the clothes he had conjured onto your beautiful skin; there was nothing to you Loki didn't adore. You were trust, warmth, acceptance, something that was all too rare. He smiled down at your goofy and exhausted grin, finally ending his reign over the bedsheets and lowering your body fully onto the sofa. The sheet draped loosely around your ankle as if it had been the remnants of morning or perhaps a mid-afternoon nap. The wild state of your clothing and hair suggested as much, if not something more suggestive. Love and affection were strange. Not foreign, but peculiar. Loki had not realized that falling in love could physically be felt in the chest, like magnetism that would prayerfully result in his arms embracing you. 

In a crowded room, his eyes fell heavy onto you. The way when you spoke, your words almost fell too quickly out of your mouth. Your skill as an agent, your sharp wit, your humor - Loki's thoughts fell onto his mother's face, and how desperately he wished he could bring you home to Asgard to show her what - who - he had won. And yet, you were more than just a prize. You were more than just the exterior shell of the hardened agent you had to become. You were you. That was enough. 

There were many parts that of you that Loki had yet to explore. Natasha's words and advice rang in the back of his head, but he knew that they came from a place of protectiveness for you. There were so many possibilities to who you were, what had happened, where you even came from. Midgard was large, Asgard immense, the cosmos enormous. With each individual came a story, and the stories he had heard throughout his years put lead in his stomach. The Avengers were not known for cheery origins, that was evident enough. While he craved to know what fueled your drives, he was unwilling to push past what you were acquiescent to share.  

"I don't hate it," You mumbled, snatching Loki from his thoughts. A deep blush dusted your cheeks, and you turned your head to the side, tugging on your wrists (which Loki yielded) and covering your face. "If anyone is doing it, I'd rather it be you."

Once again, the familiar tug of Loki's heart blossomed in his chest. He felt his jaw square but did nothing to stop it, allowing his face to bear emotions he had concealed for what felt to be ages. You reached up to him, taking his jaw in your hands. His chin was stiff beneath your sliding thumb, his skin smooth and unblemished, save for smile lines that had etched themselves to the sides of his nose. 

"What are you thinking about?" You asked. 

Loki's hand mimicked your gentle hold on his face, caressing the apples of your cheek. "I...have done things. Some unspeakable," he admitted, searching for something in your face. 

"Things I already know about."

"Yes," his voice faded. Years of suffering, loneliness, and pain strong enough to shake ground shadowed his face. "Is this right? You don't feel...coerced." 

"No," you shook your head just enough so he could see beneath the dark of the room. "Don't focus on the past anymore. We're here. We're now. We've all done things we hate. All of us," you paused, the faded glow of a taxi's headlights passing over his features. "I...just want to be with you."

"I'm here," Loki rustled, leaning down to your lips. 

In the story that Loki had told in his fruit-drunk stupor, he had spoken of a world painted with crimson and gold. The air tasted like bourbon, and the crowds pulsed with energy as musicians cheered in their corners. Among the throng of people had been a girl, dancing by herself in the middle of a busy floor, her dress bright and how its ruby pigment stole eyes from onlookers. She twirled and laughed, holding the skirt down with her hands. Loki had not told his companions about his visions afterward and instead let them begin their own fables, but Loki had seen more than just that girl. He had seen her take his hand and lead him into a dance. He had seen the sparkle of solar systems in her eyes and stars glittering in her pupils. He had tasted the tang of wine at your tongue, and now as he sat with you in intense reality and made quick work of his hands, the memory of his fantasy had reached its end. 

His tongue now tasted the perspiration he had caused personally, kissing and nipping at your neck, your collar, your stomach, your hips, your thighs...

With a look supplicating permission, a shy nod, and a smirk that made your knees shake, you once again found yourself trembling beneath the hands of the trickster god. 

[widowsistersandfriends]

hi! you write steve so well, i was wondering maybe a steve x platonic reader but the other avengers are there in the back. basically reader tickles steve in front of the team and they start poking him etc everytime they see him/walk past so he gets revenge on reader ? thanks sm!!

Hi anon! Thank you for this request! I had another prompt that went along with this request so I combined the two of them! Hope you enjoy!

Word Count: 1395

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

After a long and grueling mission, all the Avengers were gathered around at the compound to celebrate the group’s hard work. You were able to go on this mission, as you now had more experience and training.

You were hanging out with Natasha and Wanda, until you decided to excuse yourself to grab another cupcake.

You made your way over to the table of refreshments and grabbed a cupcake with red icing. Just as you were about to make your way back to the girls, you felt your cupcake being snatched out of your hands.

You whirled your head around to see who took it, as you saw a grinning blonde-haired nuisance smirking at you.

“Steve! I was going to eat that, you know!” You cried out, as it was too late, for he had already eaten it before you could try to get it back.

“I know, Y/N, that’s exactly why I took it from you,” Steve said teasingly, as you just glared at him.

“See ya around kiddo,” Steve said, as he purposely messed up your hair and walked away.

You huffed with annoyance and got another cupcake, this time with blue icing. You quickly made your way over to Natasha and Wanda before anyone else could even think about swiping your cupcake again.

After chatting and making your rounds, you spotted Steve trying to take a quick nap on the couch.

You decided this was the perfect opportunity to get revenge. He was already lying down on the couch, so all you had to do was pounce and pin him to the couch.

Steve couldn’t hear you sneaking up on him, as the party was still in full swing with lots of chatter in the background.

You suddenly pounced on him, startling him awake, and pinned his arms above his head, digging into his armpits.

“Y/N, WHAHAHAT AHAHAHRE YOUHOHOOU DOHIHIHIHING,” Steve laughed out, struggling to pull his arms down.

“I don’t know, maybe I’m just getting revenge for when you stole my cupcake,” you said nonchalantly, as you moved your hands down to tickle his sides.

“STAHAHAHAHAP IHIHIHIT PLEHEHEHEASE,” Steve cried out, now struggling to push your hands away, as you had let his arms go to tickle him with both hands.

You then began to tickle his neck, causing him to squirm and try to protect his neck with his shoulders.

“Stohohohop leheheht mehehehe gohohoho,” Steve giggled out.

You finally had mercy on him, knowing that the situation wasn’t that serious. After all, you still got your cupcake in the end. However, many of the Avengers had been watching, as the loud laughter and sudden commotion had grabbed their attention.

“So Rogers, didn’t think the great Captain America would have a weakness,” Natasha said with a smirk.

“Go away Romanoff,” Steve grumbled, as the redhead just chuckled and planned a time to catch him off guard.

The next day, Wanda was busy fixing together a bowl of cereal. Steve had just walked into the kitchen, still half asleep.

Wanda could tell he wasn’t very awake, so when he walked by, she wiggled her fingers softly into his stomach, causing him to double over in laughter.

“AHAHAHA WAHAHANDA NOHOHO STAHAHAP,” Steve laughed, almost falling to his knees.

“Well if you weren’t so ticklish I wouldn’t have done that,” Wanda chuckled.

Steve was now more wary, as he knew that people had seen him getting tickled to pieces the day before.

Natasha was now quickly leaving the compound, having to run a last minute errand.

“Bye guys! I need to run an errand real quick,” Natasha called out.

“Bye Nat!” Steve said with a wave.

As he raised his arm to wave, he felt fingers wiggling in his armpit, causing him to jerk his arm down with a yelp. He turned to face Sam, who was grinning widely at his friend.

“That was hilarious. I will be using this very often,” Sam said, as he walked away chuckling.

Natasha returned later that day, and took this opportunity to now tickle Steve.

As she was walking past him, she jabbed him in the side, causing him to jump away with a squeal, much to his embarrassment.

Steve had enough of all the pokes and squeezes here and there, and decided it was time for some revenge.

Later that evening, you were in your room, working on homework. Or so you thought. After doing about 15 minutes of homework, you had decided that you earned a well-deserved break and hopped on to TikTok.

You told yourself that you would only watch one, but one soon turned into multiple, as you lost track of time.

Steve came in to check on you, as you had been in your room for a few hours.

“Hey Y/N, you want to take a break since you’ve been studying so long?” Steve asked, only to see you still watching TikTok on your phone.

“What?” You ask, not hearing what he asked, as you were too absorbed in your phone. You also didn’t bother to turn around from where you were facing, so you couldn’t see what Steve was doing.

Without saying another word, he snuck up behind you and squeezed the back of your neck, causing you to shrug your shoulders up and giggle hysterically.

“Steheheheve quihihihit ihihihit,” you giggled, trying to turn around and grab his hands. Steve took this opportunity to wiggle his fingers into your ribs, as you shrieked and yanked your arms down to protect yourself.

“AHAHAHAHAHA STAHAHAHAP,” you laughed out.

“Weren’t you supposed to be doing homework? How come I caught you on TikTok instead?” Steve asked, continuing his intense pace of tickling.

You tried to respond, but were laughing too hard to respond. All that came out was a wheeze and more laughter.

“No answer. I guess we’ll have to pick it up a notch.

Steve picked you up out of your chair and pinned you to your bed.

Steve began to squeeze your inner thigh, as you bucked at the sensation and squealed with laughter.

“NOHOHOHOHO NOHOHOHT THEHEHEHRE,” you scream out, trying to kick him away.

“Maybe this will motivate you to study? Every time I catch you getting distracted for that many hours, you’ll get tickled to pieces,” Steve warned playfully.

He then turned to attack your feet. However, you were wearing socks, so you felt pretty protected at the moment.

You then panicked, as you felt him taking your socks off.

“No! Stop! Leave my socks on!” You cried, curling your toes up to keep the sock partially on.

“Oh no you don’t,” Steve said, lightly scratching at your heel, causing your toes to uncurl.

“STAHAHAHAP NOHOHOHO,” you scream out, as Steve now easily pulled your sock off.

“Consider this revenge for exposing my weakness in front of everyone,” Steve stated, as he scribbled into your sensitive soles.

“NOHOHOHOHO PLEHEHEHEHEASE STAHAHAHP LEHEHEHT MEHEHE GOHOHO,” you scream out, trying your best to curl your toes again.

Steve pulled your toes back and began to tickle underneath them, causing you to shriek and laugh hysterically.

“IHIHIHIM SOHOHORRY,” you cry out, not being able to take any more.

“Are you going to study from now on when you’re supposed to?” Steve asked, now squeezing your knees.

“YEHEHEHES IHIHIHI WIHIHILL,” you scream out after first letting out a snort of laughter.

Steve finally stopped tickling you and let you go, as you immediately curled up to protect yourself, all while still giggling.

“If any of the others keep tickling me, I will get you even worse,” Steve warned, as your eyes widened.

“That’s not fair! I’m not telling them to do that!” You cry out in disbelief.

“Exactly. I know they’ll keep doing it, so that means I’ll keep getting to tickle you,” Steve said with a smug grin.

“Now, are you gonna finish your homework?” Steve asked, eyeing you carefully.

You paused for a second, not really wanting to go back to studying. However, that thought was abruptly interrupted, as Steve scribbled into your stomach.

“HAHAHAHA NOHOHO OHOHOKAY IHIHI WIHIHLL,” you squeal out, while pushing his hands away.

“I love you, Y/N,” Steve said, embracing you in a hug, whether you wanted it or not.

You roll your eyes fondly but return the hug, knowing that you were going to get wrecked almost every time you had homework to do.

[valiantphantomangel]

The discovery

"Are you feeling alright? you look a bit stiff" Sam asked.

"Yay I'm fine, just overwhelmed my muscles with the mission" you, zemo, bucky and Sam hat gone to figure out more about the flag smasher and let's just say that the gave you a bit of a run for your money.

"I can help with that if want" buck offered which you nodded to.

His hands worked over your neck and shoulders making you cringe in pain some times, but when his hand went over your spine you gave a squel, getting the attention of the other two.

"What was that"? You could hear the grin in sam's voice.

"N-nothing, just a ... Spot that hurt a bit more then the others" you said a bit to fast.

"Oh we both know that was something else" Zemo said coming over to you.

"Shut it Baron"! You quickly got out of your seat, not wanting to be trapped.

"Ohh back to code names, something is definitely up" bucky said looking at you with stupid grin on his smug face, slowly walking towards you. "You couldn't possibly be ticklish now".

"O-of course not, that's a stupid question" betraying your self when you backed away".

All three looked at each other then back to you, each with that smirk on there face.

"Run"

You didn't need to hear that twice sprinting away from the tickle danger, you slipped to a stop to hear if anyone was close to you. Hearing the thundering of two but the third was not heard, that's not good.

Your eyes scanned the area around, walking backwards. Big mistake.

You back collided with the wall or what you thought was the wall, until it wrapped it's arms around you.

"Gotcha" Zemo said in you ear, he threw you over his shoulder and made his way back to the 'living room'.

"Zemo LET ME GO NOW"

"No can do sweet heart" he laughed "Guys i found her"!!

He sat down on a chair and pulled you in his lap, wrapping his arms around you.

Zemo and you hat a complicated relationship at first but after you two warmed up to each other, he became more like a father figure to you and to him you were like a daughter he never hat.

The duo and stood next to you.

"Now are you going to tell us what we want to know or not" Sam asked.

"Never" you were already giggling but when zemo duck into your rib cage that soon turned to full on belly laughter.

Sam and bucky decided that it was a good idea to BOTH work on your knees and thighs.

Needless to say you went insane.

"HAHAHHAAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH STOPHAHAHAHAH" you screamed through your laughing.

"I suspected that you were ticklish but this ticklish... Did the serum make you more sensitive"? Bucky chuckled.

"HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA I DON'THOHOHO KNOWHAHAHA".

"Then will have to find that out now, dont we".

After your laughing and screaming curses at them in all possible languages know to mankind, they finally let you breath but didn't let you go.

"Alright we will make you a deal, if you tell us one of your worst spots we'll maybe let you go" Zemo said.

You pretended to think for a minute before saying "No deal" and shoot your hands into Zemo's thighs, electing a scream of laughter from him and letting you go.

You ran as fast as your legs could carry away from them, the sound of foot steps and laughing echoed through the building.

The next two days were filled with were filled with little tickle fights.

[fanficsandfluff]

don't you even think about it wilson for the sentence starters if you don't mind ofc

Send me an ask with the first sentence of a fanfic and I’ll write the next five...

(you will see that I am handling the "next five" part very loosely lol)

"Don't you even think about it, Wilson."

"Oh, Buck, I already thought about it, contemplated it, studied it, maybe even sung about it. It's happening."

"You're such a dick."

Sam grinned like a Cheshire cat, "Don't run, now."

Bucky kept the bravado up, not moving one inch. His face scowled in disapproval. And Sam couldn't wait to see the drastic change in expression once he got him.

Sam reached out and latched onto Bucky's sides only for a second before Bucky side-stepped him, avoiding being held.

Sam shook his head, "You really aren't gonna make this easy for me. Why should I be surprised?"

"You don't know me very well."

Sam chased and Bucky ran and skirted around. It had to have been that super soldier speed or something because this made no goddamn sense.

"Okay! Alright!" Sam threw his hands in the air, panting hard. He plopped himself down on the couch in defeat.

Bucky watched him, chest barely rising and falling with extra breaths at all compared to Sam. A twang of guilt in his chest--no, stop feeling bad for him, he was out to get you and be annoying.

"You win, tin man."

Oh dammit. Bucky felt worse. The super soldier went and gingerly sat down next to Sam on the couch. There was silence and only the sounds of Sam's heavy breathing filling the space.

"I'm sor--"

Bucky's apology was cut off when Sam threw his whole body weight at the guy and pinned him to the couch. Sam smiled wide, "Gotcha, you bastard!" and he dove right in.

Alright, this wasn't as bad as Bucky thought it would be. He needed a laugh. And he didn't feel as powerless or humiliated as he originally thought he'd feel. And Sam got to see his beautiful smile and hear his contagious laughter. All was perfect.

[babygirl-diaz]

"What are you doing?" Sam asked as Bucky lifted his shirt and snuck his head inside it. "Man, stop it, you're tickling me!" Sam scrunched up his face and laughed when Bucky nuzzled his growing beard against his stomach.

Bucky peeked from under Sam's shirt and said, "This is my favorite place to be... after your thighs."

Sam's eyebrows shot up and a smirk played on the edges of his lips. "Is it now?"

"Yes," Bucky replied before pushing Sam's shirt up and returning to his presumed second favorite spot. The cool air hit Sam's stomach, making him shiver slightly.

Soon Bucky was putting open-mouthed kisses on Sam's stomach and Sam bit down on his bottom lip, arching his back off the bed.

"Ah!" Sam moaned when Bucky's teeth sunk into the skin of his abs. He soothed it with his tongue before delivering the same treatment to other parts of his stomach.

Once seemingly satisfied, he trailed kisses up Sam's body.

"Good mornin'," he drawled once he reached Sam's lips. Sam took Bucky's face between his hands pulled him in for a searing kiss. It was a good morning indeed.

[ao3feed-peterparker]

Avengers Drabble Dump 4

by fanficsandfluff A collection of Avengers and Spider-Man NWH drabbles, usually fluffy. Words: 1557, Chapters: 7/?, Language: English Fandoms: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Falcon and the Winter Soldier (TV), Black Widow (Movie 2021) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: F/M, Gen Characters: Peter Parker, Clint Barton, Reader, You, Natasha Romanov (Marvel), Yelena Belova, Sam Wilson (Marvel), James "Bucky" Barnes Relationships: Clint Barton/Reader, James "Bucky" Barnes/Reader Additional Tags: Drabble, Drabble Collection, Movie: Spider-Man: No Way Home (2021), Peter Parker Played By Tobey Maguire, Peter Parker Played By Andrew Garfield, Peter Parker Played By Tom Holland, Fluff, Play Fighting, Banter, Tickling, Tickle Fights, Ticklish Peter Parker, Ticklish Clint Barton, Ticklish Natasha Romanov, Ticklish Yelena Belova, Ticklish Bucky Barnes via https://ift.tt/hWPgZd1

[tickle-bugs]

High Maintenance

Summary: Bucky moves into Sam’s place and prosthetic maintenance becomes as much of a part of Sam’s life as it is a part of Bucky’s.  Okay so the show is officially out, but I needed to post this before I watched the pilot. Hopefully I got their characterization right, but we’ll see. I hope there’s some prosthetic maintenance/care in FATWS because disabled rep is important! If you have a prosthetic and see something wrong with my portrayal of the maintenance, please let me know! Marvel was super sloppy about how they show Bucky’s arm but I tried my best to make it realistic. Enough rambling, though. Enjoy! <3

Sam was nearly used to sharing his space. Bucky moving in hadn’t been much of a change--he had all the presence of a shy housecat--but they settled into each other’s habits pretty quickly. Bucky relearned how to buy groceries for more than just himself, Sam made an effort to sing quieter in the shower. Sam learned that Bucky’s night terrors were louder than his. Bucky learned that Sam made excellent company at three-am and had great taste in post-nightmare snacks and movies. 

So it was a surprise--not startling, but a surprise--to see Bucky sitting at the kitchen table, arranging a spread of tools into neat rows. 

“Whatcha doin?” Sam piped up, pouring himself a small sip of orange juice. Bucky didn’t turn to look at him, but the slight tilt of his head indicated his attention. 

“Maintenance.” Bucky pressed his fingers into the underside of his metal shoulder and the arm released with a click. Panels retracted from his shoulder all the way down to the elbow as he pulled the arm away from his stump and laid it on the table. He massaged up and down his stump a bit, sighing out his nose at certain points. 

“Can I...help?” Sam tried not to stare at the arm. It was weird, seeing a piece of his friend detached this way. 

“No.” Bucky grabbed a wrench from his row of tools, all neatly aligned next to a steamless cup of coffee. It’d probably been cold for quite some time now. He didn’t seem to notice. 

“Are you saying that because you don’t need help or because you’re stubborn as hell?” Sam crossed his arms. 

“Fine.” Bucky’s eyes wandered over Sam’s face, unable to stay still but never once looking away. “Just don’t be weird.”

“Me? Never.” Sam sat on his left and picked up a screwdriver, staring blankly at the patch of grey and gold crawling up his upper ribs and shoulder. There were obviously panels in there somewhere--maybe the gold outlines?--but he knew next to nothing about where to start. Bucky huffed and took the screwdriver, passing Sam a rag. Ah.

“Wipe down what you can. Especially in the grooves.” Bucky held his wrench between his teeth and popped open a panel on the top of his shoulder. He started tightening something inside, brows knit in concentration. Sam watched him for a little bit, folding and unfolding the rag in his hand, but one raised eyebrow from Bucky was all the encouragement he needed to start working. 

He gingerly started wiping down the metal ribs, gaining confidence with each stroke. He tried not to look too long at the flecks of dried blood being loosened from within the grooves. He didn’t pity Bucky--pity was useless and tiring--but something within him twisted at the thought of Bucky trying to do this himself. He was a perfectionist, Sam knew that, so how long would he sit here, sides contorted, scraping blood out of himself? 

Taking care of each other was a ritual. He couldn’t imagine suffering all the sprains and fractures he had during his combat tours without Riley and the rest of the squadron there to fuss over him. Maintenance was a group activity. No one man should have to go it alone, even if his trauma qualified him for it. 

Sam scraped at a small scuff but it barely budged. He narrowed his eyes, pressing harder as he scrubbed. His other hand came up to gently grip the muscle just beneath the metal ribs, holding the whole unit more still while he wiped. That is, until the set of ribs lurched, and it came back to him that Bucky was attached to the metal he was buffing. Bucky was leaning away now, eyes trained to the floor, and Sam didn’t quite know what to make of it. 

“Oops.” He blinked. “I hurt you?” 

“Be more careful,” Bucky sighed, expression unreadable as usual, and Sam made a quiet noise of acknowledgement.

“Sorry.” He buffed out a smaller spot. 

“S’fine.” Bucky waved his flesh hand dismissively and the comfortable quiet resumed. 

.........................

“You are ridiculous. How do you watch this stuff?” Sam leaned over the back of the couch, watching the dive team explore deeper into the ship. A sleepy British voice narrated the treasure hunt with buzz words like ‘exhilarating’ and ‘fascinating’, but the only fascinating part was how quickly Sam’s eyes glazed over. 

“Usually without commentary from the peanut gallery,” Bucky muttered, adjusting the towel on his lap to better cradle his detached arm. He was tweaking something in the back of the metal hand that made the lifeless fingers twitch every once in a while. 

“It’s so boring.”

“Good! Then leave me alone.” Buck flipped open a panel on the forearm and started messing with something similar. The metal hand curled into a fist and released, and Bucky made a quiet noise of approval. 

“Nope, you gotta explain this. This is indefensible.” Sam plopped down next to him, taking the rag from Bucky’s pile of tools and getting to work on the grooves on his shoulder. Bucky rolled his eyes but didn’t object--he scooted over a little to give Sam more space to work, eyes trained on the television. 

.........................

“Cool, right?” Sam grinned, passing Bucky the carton of Goldfish crackers. He took a few and crunched gratefully, sitting the carton aside on the coffee table. The credits for The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey rolled on the tv screen, filling the room with a swelling orchestration. 

“It was cooler in my head.” Bucky huffed. 

“You’re joking.”

“Why is it in so many parts? Just make one movie!” Bucky pulled his sock over his stump. 

“It’d be a six hour movie. You can’t even get through two hours.” Sam snorted. 

“Shut up.” Bucky aligned his stump into the arm and the panels extended up, smooth as butter, until the arm completely encased it. The panels at the top locked into the grooves on his shoulder with a very satisfying click. He flexed his fingers a few times, rotating his shoulder and wrist, and hummed with satisfaction. 

“I’m gonna put the next one on.” Sam playfully shoved Bucky’s side as he stood, using fingertips just to be annoying, and a startled giggle floated out of Bucky. He stared, deer-in-headlights, and Sam blinked at him. 

“Did you just--”

“No.” Bucky crossed his arms. 

“You totally did! You giggled, Buck.” Sam grinned. 

“Told you not to call me that. Plus, I don’t giggle. That’s stupid.” Bucky stared him down. 

“No, that was definitely a giggle.” 

“It was not.”

“No? Then what would you call that suspiciously giggle-like noise you just made?” Sam sat back down, eating up the way that Bucky subtly leaned away from him, too stubborn to run. 

“You dug your fingers in and I made a noise of pain. You’ve wounded me, Wilson.” Bucky shoved his shoulder, Sam shoved back, and they succumbed to a blur of slapping, pushing, playful hands. Bucky held Sam back with a hand splayed across his cheek, unable to resist smiling, and Sam swiped at him repeatedly, completely committed to absurdity.

“How long are you gonna keep this up?” Bucky tilted his head slightly. 

“You think I’m gonna quit? Especially with the secret weapon that you’ve so graciously handed me?” Sam relished in the way Bucky’s eyes widened.

“Sam—“

Sam latched onto Bucky’s sides, chasing his laughter with intent, and Bucky crumbled onto the couch, a mess of panicky laughter.

“You’ve got a nice smile, by the way.” Sam bit back a comment when Bucky’s cheeks flared pink, opting instead to curiously press his fingers into his stomach. Bucky jolted and his laughter morphed into frantic, nose-scrunched giggles. A fond warmth bloomed in Sam’s chest. Bucky was always so severe, and any bouts of mischief were so brief and restrained that it made Sam seem like a bully in comparison. Bucky was definitely a menace, but now at least he was a smiling one. 

“I-I’m gonna—“

“Yes, I know, you’re gonna kill me. You need new material, Barnes. The threats are getting old.” Sam rolled his eyes. He slid his fingers up Bucky’s right side, all the way to his ribs, and he screeched, his voice breaking around his laughter. Even with a bright smile attached, his death glare was terrifying. 

“Oh, that sounds like a bad spot.” 

“I hate you!” 

“Hate you too. What happens if I do this?” Sam vibrated his fingers between the divots of Bucky's ribs and he made a verbal error noise, fists flying on reflex. Sam leaned to dodge him, pressing his fingers in again just to hear that noise again. Part of him wished he was recording. The rest of him preferred not being murdered in his sleep. 

“You get punchy when you laugh? Good to know,” Sam laughed. Bucky reached up, probably to strangle him, and Sam tickled viciously under his right arm until he dropped his elbows, head pressed back against the couch cushions. Bucky kept trying but Sam was ready for him every time. Except, of course, when Bucky snagged his wrist with a vibranium grip and pushed him down onto the couch, effectively reversing their positions. 

“I sense that I’ve made a grave mistake.” Sam bit the inside of his cheek to quell his nervous smile. 

“How wise of you.” Bucky narrowed his eyes. He looked Sam up and down quickly, still gripping his wrist (honestly, Sam wasn’t sure why he was going along with this, but something about Bucky’s stare kept him pinned). A joke about Bucky buying him dinner died somewhere between his brain and his tongue when two evil hands attatched like leeches to his stomach, and pinched, which was a) unexpected, and b) extremely fucking tickly. 

“Wh—Bucky!” 

“Oh, that sounds like a bad spot.” Bucky mimicked him, nasally and ridiculous, but when Sam opened his mouth to retort, Bucky grabbed his sides and tickled until Sam was cackling--which, for the record, did not take long. 

“Stop it!”

“Nah.” Bucky grinned, vibrating his fingers into Sam’s ribs, and oh god, he was gonna die. He wheezed around his next bout of laughter and Bucky had the audacity to laugh at him. 

“Asshole!” 

“Takes one to know one.” Bucky found a spot just below his ribcage that made Sam produce the most embarrassing noises he’d ever made in his life. He kinda wished this would kill him--it’d be infinitely better than Bucky living with this knowledge. 

“Let me know when you’re ready to give up. I can do this all day.” Bucky’s right hand wandered back up Sam’s side, taking multiple detours to squeeze and prod, before settling under his arm. Sam thrashed, absolutely lost in laughter, and Bucky rudely made a noise of interest. He brought his metal arm up Sam’s other side in a similar fashion and the union of his hands was anything but happy. Bucky hummed again, tilting his head at Sam, and vibrated his fingers right in the centers of his armpit.  

Oh, fuck. 

“Okay! Okahay, I give! Bucky!” Sam shrieked, arching his back so hard that some distant thought worried his spine would snap. Tickly lightning raced through his entire being, whiting out his nerves and coherent thoughts entirely. 

“You okay?” Bucky stopped immediately. 

“Man, you are brutal. I’m fine.” A few leftover giggles bubbled from Sam’s lips as the tingles alighting his skin began to dim. 

“At least you learned your lesson.” Bucky gently slugged his shoulder. 

“If you think a little tickling is going to stop me from messing with you, you are sorely mistaken.” Sam’s hands darted towards Bucky’s sides and he yelped, swatting away the offending fingers. Sam stood and grabbed The Desolation of Smaug from the coffee table, wiggling his brows at Bucky. 

“Then maybe we need to postpone the movie,” Bucky said, narrowing his eyes in that newly-familiar intense stare. Sam’s eyes widened and he bolted, Bucky hot on his heels. 

[atlas-of-the-universe]

Home (Sequel to Vision’s Powers)

Estimated Reading Time: 18 minutes

Word Count: 4,912

---

There was actually a lot that could have gone better in the situation you were in. You could have moved your feet a little quicker or maybe steadied your breathing so help your balance; but to your dismay, it proved useless. While Bucky swung unimaginably hard fists at the punching bag a few feet away from you, Natasha took you by surprise once again, knocking you off of your feet and onto the mat with a hardy slap. Your back hit the floor and sent a wave of discomfort through you. You were sweaty, thirsty, and worst of all, you were getting frustrated with the work that you were doing. Once again, you and Natasha had decided to stay late to practice your training. The consistent thwacks to the poor punching bad to the left of you echoed in the room. Bucky was barely breaking a sweat.

When your head hit the mat again, you let out a hardy groan and turned your head upwards to face Natasha. She had a light gleam of sweat around her face, but she still looked stunning. The black t-shirt she was wearing clung to her skin and her grey shorts dangled from her hips. Had it been any other situation, you may have been able to admire how she looked and how effortlessly she landed her punches and attacks. Alas, your line of sight was blurred from your eyelashes catching your sweat. It may have been a signal to stop, but your determination was a force to be reckoned with. You knew that Nat was able to see that, so you also knew she was just pushing as hard as you were willing to go. Even so, a break wouldn’t have killed you.

“Always keep your eyes on your opponent,” Nat stated. “Never look away.” Nat offered you her hand to get up and you took it. As she pulled you off the ground, you grimaced at a new pain in your lower back and groaned standing up. She dusted you off and gave you a once over before nodding. “You okay?”

You nodded and reached around to hold the lower portion of your back. “Yeah, I think I probably pulled something. I’ll be fine, but do you think we can take a but of a break for now? I should probably put some ice on this so I can be better by tomorrow.”

Natasha’s eyes furrowed and she gestured to your back. “Do you want me to take a look?” She asked. She looked concerned.

“If you could, I’d appreciate it,” You said and turned your back to her.

Nat gingerly took ahold of the back of your shirt and lifted it up. It was a little nerve-wracking, feeling her small movements, especially facing away from her. Even so, you had been through the same situation a week prior to this with Vision. Perhaps you were getting more comfortable being the newest Avenger, and the team was finally beginning to see you as an equal. With that thought in mind, you made a note of the fact that Natasha had offered to do this herself; you didn’t even really have to ask. That must show some amount of trust if she’s checking you for injuries. She placed a palm on the small of your back and pushed lightly. It didn’t hurt, but it didn’t feel comfortable. Your breathing hitched and you controlled a sigh.

“Does that hurt?” She asked.

You shook your head and chuckled. “It doesn’t feel great.”

She hummed a bit and placed her hand on your side. It was a shocking feeling at first, and if you were honest, reminded you a little too much of the Vision situation that unfolded last week. She pushed her hand into your side and her fingers curled a bit. Of course you didn’t mean to, but you jumped and let out a surprised noise.

“Sorry,” Natasha said. “Just had to see for myself.”

She must have been talking about your pain, right? You smiled and pulled down your shirt, turning to face her. She had a small smirk on her lips, but she looked more curious than devious. “See my pain?” You joked, trying to feign some sort of innocence in hope that she hadn’t figured out your little weakness. “That’s a bit sadistic of you, Nat.”

You heard Bucky chuckle to the left of you. He never missed a beat with his punches, so you decided to stay about fifteen feet out of range of the wildly swinging punching bag. Nat glanced over at him but redirected her attention to you. “Tony mentioned yesterday at the monthly debrief that you and Vision had worked on an experiment together,” She said. “Remind me to tell Tony that it’s time to include you in those meetings. It’s only fair.”

Your heart dropped. You had known that of anyone, Tony would have been the one to tell. He was just that petty. To be honest, the fear of them finding out had slipped your mind until now. You knew that Vision knew (obviously) and so did Tony, but when you asked Tony not to tell, it would have been hard enough to keep that a secret for him. Tony loved to have his fun at the tower, especially if there wasn’t some world-wide-threatening catastrophe in place. However, with a “weakness” of the sort, you felt as though you couldn’t afford to have the rest of the Avengers know about something as childish as that. Even so, you noticed that Natasha didn’t say anything. There was still a chance that, maybe, by the grace of the Gods, just maybe he hadn’t told them. You made sure not to keep that hope to close to you. It was unlikely.

You chuckled nervously. “Yeah, they needed help,” You said. It was inconspicuous enough.

Nat chuckled and wiped off dust from the sides of your arms before giving you a look-over. Besides your hunched stance because of the discomfort in your back, you looked fine. Sweaty, but fine. “Don’t worry about it too much. Everyone has something that can knock them back a few pegs,” Natasha teased. She winked at you and folded her arms. You felt your heart sink once again. Guess Tony told them after all. “Besides, it’s cute. Actually, if we wanted to use it during your training to help you build up a tolerance to it, we could.”

Of course, Nat was all business and little play. Her and you had a very close bond and you knew that she wasn’t someone to push past a friend’s comfort-zone. You appreciated it but chuckled nonetheless and shook your head. “So, I guess everyone knows at this point?” You asked.

“Yeah,” She said chuckling. “Pretty much.”

Shit.

---

           After your training with Natasha, you decided to go back to your room to hopefully shower and relax. Your arms and legs were sticky with dried sweat, and you felt completely exhausted. As much as you loved working with Nat, you knew that she tended to push you to your limit. It was necessary, but it still left you feeling drained.

You threw your bag of equipment to the side of your bed and collapsed into your sheets. You planned to stay there for a few minutes before going to shower; if you spent any more time on your feet, you were sure that you’d probably end up falling in the shower. That is certainly the last thing you needed now that your secret was out to the rest of the team. Fucking Tony. You groaned at the thought and rolled over to face the ceiling of your room with your arm draped over your eyes. Okay, so they know your secret. Now what? You stumbled through possible reactions and encounters that could take place because of it. You didn’t think they’d kick you off the team because of it, but it was still embarrassing and, to you, felt a little unbecoming of a superhero. Were you considered a super-hero at this point? Were superheroes ticklish? You chuckled at the thought and tried to imagine the big and mighty Thor rolling on the floor laughing with glee. It was a little ridiculous, but it made you giggle.

About an hour had passed since you had gotten to your room. You finally managed to get up and take a shower and resumed your original position of lying on your bed with your phone in your hand. To be honest, you had started to get hungry and remembered that you hadn’t eaten since lunch. Probably not the best course of action. You glanced at the time and grimaced: 8:27. It wouldn’t be too late to have dinner, but Natasha always advised you against eating after 8. It always made training less bearable. However, since your blood sugar was getting low, you stood up from your bed, your muscles still exhausted. It took just about everything in you to open your door and walk to the kitchen.

The last thing you had expected was to see Vision and Wanda in the kitchen together, Wanda cooking in a large saucepan. From where you stood, it looked like she was making some sort of fried rice, and a ton of it too. You took a step into the room and smiled at Wanda, who in turned smiled at you. The kitchen was brimming with the smell of fresh cooked onions and garlic and plumes of pillowy steam wafted up from the food. “Hey, (Y/N),” Wanda spoke. “Can you do me a quick favor and hand me that bowl of peppers?” You nodded, but before you were able to take it, she made a small noise which sounded surprised. “Actually, never mind,” She said. She had a smile on her face and with her powers, the small bowl of chopped green peppers floated towards her and finally spilled over into the sauce pan. “I forget I can do that sometimes.”

You chuckled. “Anything that I can help with?”

Vision at the opposite end of the island in the middle of the kitchen smiled and waved at you, “Hello (Y/N).”

“Hey, Vis,” You responded and waved.

“Listen, I’m sorry about Mr. Stark. I did my best to dissuade him from telling anyone. I didn’t expect him to say anything at our conference. I hope you can forgive me.”

You appreciated Vision’s apology. To be fair, it wasn’t even Vision’s fault, it was Tony’s. That being said, you weren’t mad at Tony either, nor were you at Vision. “Don’t worry about it,” You said, waving off his apology. “What are you guys doing in here? It’s a bit late to be making dinner.”

“We can ask you the same question!” A voice that you immediately recognized as Steve said from the couches in the corner of the room. You glanced over to see Steve, Natasha, Tony, Sam, Peter, and Thor pressed up against the couches, the light of the television screen lighting up all of their faces with a dim blue light that was ever shifting. “We were waiting on you,” Steve said, resting his arm on the back of the couch.

You smiled but became suddenly aware of your presence in the room compared to all of them. You felt meek and a bit shy suddenly. You opted to take a stool at the kitchen island rather than try to find a seat for yourself in the middle of everyone. “I’m surprised that Bucky isn’t here. Is he okay?” You asked, looking to Natasha for an answer. Just an hour ago or so, he had been with you both in the training room, knocking the hell out of those poor punching bags. “Should I go try to find him?”

“Don’t worry about it,” A voice said from behind you while a hand placed itself on your head, messing your hair around. You spun on the stool to see Bucky’s smiling face. “Glad to know that someone missed me,” He said. You felt good for a bit, knowing that you made him feel good. His black leather jacket stretched around his body and creaked with all of his movements. Maybe he had gone out for a drive or to go to the bar; it had become his main place to be since finding his own apartment. He put his hand down and looked at the rest of the group.

You turned away from Bucky to get a look at everyone else. They were all in casual clothing, a sight you normally would not have ever gotten to see. Under usual circumstances, everyone would be dressed in their “super-hero” attire, consisting of flashy colors, hard metal shields and weapons, and especially form fitted so everything went where it needed to and they wouldn’t have to worry about anything but the fighting. Seeing everyone in pajamas, sweats, and t-shirts certainly was not the first thing you expected to see. Even so, it felt homely and welcoming to see everyone relaxed. There were several bright red (courtesy of Tony, of course) leather couches and a dark wood table set in front of the three seater, and a few recliners in the same color sat in a large “U” shape around the flat screen television. You recalled the first day you arrived at the facility:

           You had arrived hand in hand with Natasha who had been giving you a guide around the tower. Your past was not something that you were ready to discuss with anyone, all they had known is that you were found during a series of raids in Russia. Natasha had been assigned to work undercover for a terrorist organization. You were grateful, but to be honest, you weren’t necessarily ready to deal with your past either. Your raggedy clothes had been stripped away and replaced with a clean and ironed out t-shirt that Steve had offered you. You were in no position to say no, especially considering that your clothes were just about ready to fall off. After the tour and getting your first shower in weeks, Natasha had lead you to the room you were in now: the living room. You both sat there for hours, watching Disney movies and bad rom-coms while eating take-out. Natasha had been the first one there for you, and even helped you begin your training. She was the person you trusted the most, and every ounce of you was grateful.

           Currently, Natasha was sat on the left side of the couch furthest from the television, Steve on the right side. On the other couch furthest to the back wall, Peter sat on the ottoman in front of Tony and Sam, while Thor sat comfortable in his own recliner. There were also three more recliners available, but you made a point in your head to save those for Bucky, Vision, and Wanda. But…where would you sit? I mean, you thought, I don’t mind sitting on the floor. The floor was completely clean, of course. It wouldn’t make for that much of an issue. However, scanning over the room again, you noticed a wide gap between Steve and Natasha. Natasha glanced at you and smiled, patting the open space with her hand. She gestured to come over to her with her head, and you gladly did so, making sure to be quiet and polite about sitting down. Honestly, it didn’t seem like anyone was paying much attention to the movie, whatever it was. Everyone was either chatting or on their phone. Maybe they had done this…for you? You had never seen them gather like this, and Steve did mention that they had been waiting on you. Even with that thought in mind, you pushed it off and stared straight at the television. There was a subtle fear in you over making eye contact with the others, so you kept your gaze away from the others faces.

           Peter was too lost in a one-sided conversation with Thor to notice your presence in the room. You watched how his hands flailed when he was excitedly speaking and how he barely ever broke eye contact except to think. It was admirable, especially for someone his age in comparison to everyone around you. He seemed to be speaking about this new experiment that Vision, Tony and him had been working on, but something about it seemed a little too familiar. Something about his words made your ears perk up, until…

           “Yeah!” Peter exclaimed, nodding eagerly. “I thought it would have been painful, it just tickled.”

           You froze and looked at Tony, who was smirking. He shifted his gaze to you and bumped his eyebrows. In reaction, you immediately cast your gaze down to your knees and felt your face heat. You guessed that it had been possible that Tony did need more “test-subjects” rather than just yourself…but did he need to be so obvious about it?

           “Oh, uh, that reminds me,” Tony said. Peter instantly hushed. “(Y/N), you worked on the experiment with us. Did you enjoy it?”

           The fact that no one paid any attention to Peter’s indirect admission into being ticklish made you a little bit more comfortable, but it was still embarrassing. Your eyes darted to everyone in the room as they looked at you with soft smiles. You nodded and let out a nervous laugh. “Yeah,” you said. “It really wasn’t painful. Ah, pretty much just what Peter said.”

           “Oh?” Tony said, jerking his head up. “Did it feel weird or anything?” Tony shook his head with each word he spoke with pursed lips.

           You knew exactly what he was trying to do. You went through the list of scenarios that were in your head, mostly possible outcomes of different responses, but some were images of you being scorned, excluded, or mocked because of this little weakness of yours. You cleared your throat and nodded with a nervous laugh. “Yeah, same as Peter, really,” you said. Tony looked at your to further elaborate on your answer. “Just tickled.”

           Next to Tony, Sam let out a rather loud groan and threw his head back onto the back of the couch. A pit immediately grew in your stomach; these were the kinds of reactions that you had been hoping to avoid. “Tony, leave the kid alone. She doesn’t need you being a creep on top of everything else.”

           Tony put his hand to his chest in mock surprise. “Me?” He asked overzealously. “Come on, this place could use a little excitement.”

           “She’s had enough excitement to last her a lifetime,” Natasha chimed in from next to you. You smiled at her, but she stared directly at Tony. “Plus, her skills in combat are getting impressive. I imagine she’d be able to take you on.”

           Once again, the pit in your stomach grew and your heart rate spiked. There was no rhyme or reason why you would want to take on any one of these people in a fight. Natasha was the only person you had sparred with in the past few days, and thus, the only person you felt comfortable even beating in a fight. Your mouth spoke before your head was able to catch up, simply because of the panic. “No, no,” You said, your hands up in defense. “I don’t think I-”

           “Sure you can!” Thor chimed in with a grin from his recliner (that he looked way too large for). “We’ve trained and battled warriors even smaller than you across the nine realms. Some of them put up a very good fight.” It was supposed to be a compliment, so you smiled at him in thanks.

           “What do you think, (Y/N)?” Steve asked. You looked over to Bucky and watched his eyes dart between you, Steve, and Natasha. It was normal for Bucky, Steve, Nat and you to have lengthy conversations in the training room but truth be told, you had never participated in a larger group discussion with them. The feeling in the room felt devious, but you kept your cool and did you best to steel your face the way that Natasha had taught you. “Think you’d be able to take us in a fight?”

           You smiled and gathered up the courage to be apart of the conversation, rather than the shy feelings that you displayed. “I think I’d rather fight next to you guys than against you.”

           “Good answer,” Bucky said with a smile and patted your shoulder.

           “Kiss ass,” Tony remarked. You chuckled but decided to ultimately ignore it.

           Once the energy of the room had died down, you returned your gaze to see exactly what movie had been put on for you. Maybe if you had had time in the last few years to sit down and watch television, even just the commercials, you would have had an idea of what it could be. A large gymnasium filled to the brim with teenage girls was on screen, the camera focusing on a particular one who seemed nervous to be there. There wasn’t much point in asking what you were watching; no one was really paying much attention anyways. Peter went back to excitedly explaining his latest science project and how a test that he had coupling the project was coming up in a few days. He was confident, but a little on edge. He mentioned how studying would probably help him---

           Your thoughts were cut off by a quick jab to both of your ribs, and your body flung backwards into the couch to guard yourself. A little giggle escaped your lips and your elbows flew to your sides. You looked behind you to see Bucky with a rather devious smirk as he leaned onto the headrest of the couch. You didn’t even notice him stand up, let alone get behind you.

           “Had to test the waters,” he said, his smile not leaving his face. “Oops.”

           “Lot worse than we thought, huh?” Steve said and smiled at you. You looked up at Bucky who was hovering directly over your face, barely even a foot away. Your stomach fluttered with nerves and you turned away to make sure he wouldn’t be able to see the blush on your cheeks. Before you could utter out a response to this not-so-sudden attack, you felt fingers on your side give a light squeeze. You squeaked, pushed further into the couch, and fell into a short burst of giggling before opening your eyes to see Steve’s hand inches from your torso. “Guess so!” He exclaimed, laughing.

           There wasn’t really much time to be able to compose yourself between Bucky’s little attach and Steve’s. Soft giggles already flowed from your lips and your eyebrows furrowed up into a worried look. Your body smushed itself into the couch as far as you could possibly go and pinned your arms to your sides to prevent anymore attacks. With your hands in front of you, you attempted to steady your giggles, however, your words were interlaced with the subtle shake of mirth. “Wait, wait, wait, this isn’t a great idea—”

           Peter turned to face you from his ottoman and laughed, giving your knee a squeeze which didn’t do anything to help your cause. If anything, it just made you jolt and your giggles get louder. He smiled at you with raised eyebrows. “I’m just glad I’m not on the receiving end of this,” He stated.

           “Don’t get your hopes up, boy genius,” Tony said, standing up from his seat. “Just because we have a new victim doesn’t mean you don’t exist anymore.”

           Peters face flushed but he chuckled. “Trust me,” he said. “I’m grateful.”

           Between your nerves from having three people tickle you, it took you a second to register what Peter had just conversed about. Had something like this happened before? To be fair, it was easier to imagine Peter getting tickle-attacked here than anyone else. After all, he was still a bit childish. Granted, so were you so… that didn’t necessarily leave you in a good spot.

It was interesting though; when you had first heard of the Avengers, you saw them on television when you were younger. Watching them fight side by side against the Chitauri was inspiring, but this was years later. Of course, you never would have guessed that you would have been part of the team yourself. Let alone, you never would have guessed that the Avengers were actually quite playful.

The confusion slipped your mind as Bucky fluttered his fingers on the side of your neck, which automatically renewed your giggles. You scrunched up your shoulders and grabbed at his wrists, which ultimately did nothing. It was also a very strange sort of tickle, considering that one hand, or arm rather, was completely made of metal. He had cold (literally) and calculated movements, and his fingers fluttered up to the back of your ears. You squealed and held your hands up to your ears in a less than desperate attempt to stop the attack. Had it been another situation, a noise coming like that from an Avenger would have been embarrassing, but your mind was too busy focusing on the feeling.

“Bucky!” You shouted, dissolving further into your laughter, and sinking further in the couch.

Not slow enough for your mind to register what was happening, a new squeezing tickle sparked to life on your left side and you hunched over. You let out a small involuntary scream and hunched your body towards the left. You realized that Steve had taken it upon himself to help Bucky out, and really, you shouldn’t be surprised. The zapping sort of feeling in your sides and the light fluttering on your neck were almost too much to bear, and your laughter hitched. You debated on taking your hands away from your ears and neck, but that would only help Bucky. However, if you didn’t, then that would just give Steve more of an opening. Instead, your body took control, and slid down even further until your head was placed a few inches on Steve’s lap. You curled in on yourself as Steve moved his hand to your right side, which was now exposed. Bucky’s fingers switched to what he could get at in your position, which happened to be your ribs. You rolled onto your back in a feeble attempt to stop their fingers, but it only made them switch to your stomach. Once again, your laughter hitched. Deep belly laughs mixed with squeals echoed over the sound of the television. There were few thoughts bouncing around your head as you were tickled to pieces. Don’t kick Nat. Can everyone hear the movie over me? PLEASE don’t kick Nat. How long have they been going? How long are they planning this? Was anyone paying attention anymore? Guard yourself. If this was an enemy, you’d be screwed. Oh god, please don’t let Natasha use this in training. This is embarrassing. Who’s that laughing? Why is this…kind of fun?

“Guys, PLEHEHEASE!” You begged. You could hear a few scattered chuckles over your own laughter, but it was hard to focus on who they were coming from.

“Alright, alright,” Steve said, stopping his movements and resting his palm on your forehead. Bucky stopped as well. “I think she’s had enough for one day.”

You were grateful for the air that flooded its way into your lungs. You were panting, but scattered giggles escaped from your lips. To be honest, you didn’t care much about the fact that your head was resting on one of the founding members of the Avengers. If anything, he was the one who decided to tickle you, so he had to deal with the consequences that came with it. When you opened your eyes, the team around you were in giggle fits themselves. Bucky was still peering over at you from behind the couch, his arms hoisting him up on the back rest. He had a wide smile on his face. Scattered conversations here and there let you know that most of the attention was off of you at this point, which you were kind of grateful for. You pushed yourself off of Steve’s lap and playfully pushed Bucky’s head out of the way so you could sit up. He laughed and ruffled your hair, before finding his own recliner and sitting down. Steve let out a laugh and looked you up and down.

“You look like you just got out of training,” he said.

Grateful for the playfulness of his tone, you laughed at what he said. “I feel like it too.”

Next to you, Natasha poked you in the ribs. Your defenses automatically went up again before she placed her hand on your shoulder. It was her way of telling you that you could relax now. At least, that’s what she did during training. “Welcome to the real Avengers.”

“Real?” Sam said from his seat. “If I remember correctly, we’ve saved the world too many times to count. That’s real.”

“Lighten up, hotshot,” Tony spoke. “We can still be the Avengers without having a stick in our ass. Maybe you need the America dream team over there to teach you how to do that too.”

“You touch me and I’ll kill you,” Sam said with a smile on his face.

Maybe you were wrong. Maybe this place was a lot more familial than you thought. And maybe, just maybe, you could find this place becoming a permanent home for you.