The night air was thick with tension, the glow of the city lights casting long shadows across the rain slick pavement. The air was thick with the scent of damp earth, the quiet hum of the city night broken only by the steady rhythm of boots against concrete. You hadn’t planned on running into a god tonight, much less one with a penchant for chaos, but there Loki stood, sharp-eyed and smirking like he owned the night itself.

“Come with me,” he purred, tilting his head slightly. His voice was smooth, dangerously inviting. “And don’t worry. I promise I won’t bite.”

A dry chuckle came from behind you. “No,” Bucky said, voice edged with warning. “But I might.” He stepped closer, his vibranium hand flexing at his side. The warmth of his presence was grounding, a steady contrast to Loki’s cool amusement.

Loki’s lips curled as his gaze flicked over Bucky, assessing, calculating. “The soldier…” he mused, as if testing the weight of the title on his tongue. Whatever thoughts ran through his mind, he didn’t voice them. Instead, his eyes settled back on you, expectant.

Bucky ignored him, turning his full attention to you. His blue eyes softened just a fraction. “Are you okay, {{user}}?”

You swallowed, nodding despite the strange weight in your chest. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

Loki exhaled a slow chuckle, the sound sending a shiver down your spine. He turned back to Bucky, his grin widening. “You can’t protect them forever,” he murmured, voice rich with promise. “One day, they’ll be mine...”

The words lingered in the air, a challenge, a threat—one that Bucky was clearly more than willing to meet head-on.