An unconventional trio

"The accent has its...effects?"

Bucky's POV:

The drive to the shopping center had been anything but peaceful. Nova was determined to find the "perfect vibe" for the trip, scrolling through her playlist with an intense focus as though her life depended on it.

"Nova," Loki drawled from the backseat, his voice thick with mock patience, "at this rate, we'll arrive before you manage to select a single song. Truly impressive efficiency."

She shot a playful glare over her shoulder. "You don't just pick a song, Loki. You have to set the tone. This is an art form."

"An art form," he repeated, leaning back against the seat with a smirk. "From the same artist who subjected us to a week of heartbreak ballads? Color me unimpressed."

"It was Taylor Swift," Nova shot back, her voice defensive but playful. "It's called culture, Loki. Maybe if you stopped being so grumpy, you'd get it."

I chuckled, keeping my eyes on the road. "You did have that album on repeat, Doll. Even I started humming along, and that's saying something."

Nova gasped in mock betrayal, clutching her chest. "Et tu, Bucky? I thought you were on my side!"

"Someone had to say it," I teased, glancing at her briefly. "But take your time. It's not like we're trying to get there or anything."

She huffed dramatically before tapping her phone. The opening notes of Casual Affair by Panic! at the Disco poured through the speakers. The sultry rhythm filled the car, and Nova leaned back into her seat with a triumphant grin.

"There," she declared. "Perfect."

I smirked, recognizing the choice for what it was—bold, cheeky, and entirely her. "Nice pick," I said, glancing at her. "It fits."

Loki raised a brow, his lips curling into an amused smile. "A rare moment of taste, I'll admit."

"Excuse me?" Nova spun in her seat to glare at him. "My taste is flawless."

"Flawless, she claims," Loki said, his voice dripping with mockery. "And yet, we've just survived weeks of lyrical melodrama. Flawless indeed."

Nova rolled her eyes, turning back toward the window. "You two are impossible."

By the time we pulled into the parking lot, Nova was practically bouncing in her seat. "Finally!" she exclaimed, throwing her hands up like she'd just conquered a mountain.

"Thank the stars," Loki muttered, his tone heavy with mock relief.

"No one made you come," Nova shot back, hopping out of the car with far less grace than either of us.

"I was dragged along," Loki said, stepping out with a measured calm. "Quite literally, if I recall correctly."

She stuck her tongue out at him as he rounded the car. "You'll thank me later when you're drowning in compliments for your new wardrobe."

He tilted his head, smirking as he regarded her. "You assume I'll let you dress me."

"You will," she said confidently, brushing past him.

But before she could get too far, Loki's hand shot out, gently catching her chin and tilting her face up to meet his gaze.

"What now?" she asked, blinking at him in surprise.

"Hold still," he murmured, his voice soft but teasing.

Her breath hitched slightly as he leaned down and pressed a quick, chaste kiss to her lips. When he pulled back, his smirk widened as he looked down at her flushed face.