#WINTER soldier. because Christmas… get it? | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

leascorner · 12 days ago

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j.b.b | The Grinch

Summary: Y/N can’t travel to see her family on Christmas so she invite her grumpy loner neighbour, Bucky.

Pairing: Post blip!Bucky Barnes x f!reader

Warnings: Use of Y/N and feminine pronoums, a few mentions of food and alcohol, angst, some vulgar language, everything is in the summary really, this is set like the falcon and the winter soldier never happened or it's happening before that.

Word Count: 3.5k

A/N: This is the 4th Xmas OS of the series. So sorry it is a couple of days late. Please do share and like if you enjoyed it, it means a lot! Merry Christmas!

2024 Christmas Masterlist | Main Masterlist

18th of December

$125

Y/N blinked at the number being displayed on her phone’s screen. She had stopped right in the middle of what she was doing, in utter disbelief of her discovery. Her whole process of thoughts seemed to have frozen; just like her computer would display “error 404” when she would perform contradictory actions.

She didn’t understand how this was possible; something was wrong obviously wrong because she didn’t expect this number to be displayed. Refusing what she was seeing, she logged out of the app and then back in a couple of times.

Yet, every time, the sentence was the same.

$125

Despite everything, this was currently the amount of money Y/N had on her bank account. These past couple of months, she had been saving for this moment; a moment she had been imagining all year long and for which she expected to be shredding happy tears. Instead, the tears currently running down her cheeks were made of pure anger.

She found the culprit quite easily. A monthly interest payment of a loan that was playfully mocking her on top of her bank statement. Now that she was thinking of it, she should have probably read all those letters; the ones with the red-inked stamp “urgent” printed on them. She had found all the excuses in the world: especially how exhaustive was she after having worked double shifts almost every day lately or that it had just been easier to have them sitting on her coffee table.

Y/N had no idea what she would do. If $125 was probably quite enough to eat until the end of the month if she made a few compromises, there was no way she would be able to buy flight tickets to get home for Christmas. She would have brought them earlier if she had been able to – at a time she still had the money on her bank account, for example – but her colleague had only confirmed that same day they could take over her shifts during the Christmas week. Now, she didn’t have any money and would be alone for the year-end celebration.

Her cell phone ringing made her snap back to reality. She was still in front of her building, keys in one hand, frozen in her action to enter. Her heart sunk has she discovered the picture displayed on the screen; her sister and her, one of the last pictures they had taken together, at Y/N’s university graduation ceremony, a couple of weeks before the blip. Her sister was most likely calling her about this “very good news” Y/N had texted her about that afternoon. Now, she only had to let her know that it had been a false alarm and that she wouldn’t be able to make it home this year.

Again.

It wouldn’t be the first time indeed. In fact, ever since the blip had been reversed, Y/N had not been home for the Christmas. At first, she had chosen not to. She was the only person in her family to have been gone. Without her, they all had continued with their lives, and the post-blip had been brutal for her. One second, she was full of life: she had just gotten an amazing job in New York, and she was going to live her dream. The other, the blip had happened, five years had passed, and she had lost everything. Her family, her job, herself. Her little sister was now older than her, graduating college and ready to start a family. Her parents had retired and started a new life in California. She didn’t have a dream job anymore; she had no job at all in fact. In this world that had changed so much, she felt out of places. So, she did what she thought was could do. She left everyone behind and moved to New York.

The months after moving there had been full of hope. Hope that she could still make it to her dream job and life after all. She had gotten in touch with associations working on helping people post-blip. They said: if she took a few classes, she could be retrained on the most up to date information and she would be able to get the job she had always dreamt of after all. Yet, it was even worse than college. She had to work part-time to be able to take the night classes. She either worked or studied; leaving only a few minutes a day to eat, sleep and bath. This was until some court bailiffs came banging to her door. The banks had been quick to be back to find the people that had disappeared and were now asking them to provide the past five years’ debt payment. All of her dreams had been shattered yet again.

Determined not to ask for help, Y/N stayed in New York and totally forgot about her dreams. Instead, she found another job at a bar-restaurant – one that paid better than the cashier part-time job she had until that – and worked there ever since, trying to pay off her initial student loan and the other loan she had had to take to be able to repay the requested five-years’ worth of debt in one go. She was now planning every spendings up to the last penny. She was living off diluted body and hair shower gel and all sorts of techniques to have the impression of having eaten a lot more than she had. Yet, it hadn’t been enough.

It was never enough…

Drying off her tears, she answered her phone and stuck it against her ear with her shoulder while she entered the building. She was quick to break the news to her sister. She kept her voice steady, not showing any emotions to shorten the conversation as much as possible. She did so as she collected her mail and then turned to take the stairs up to her apartment.

On the phone, Y/N didn’t see her neighbour coming down the stairs and eventually run straight into him. She would have fallen down the two steps she had just climbed if he hadn’t caught up by the arms at the very last moment.

"For fuck’s sake!" he sighed angrily. "Can’t you watch where you’re going?"

Y/N only answered by rolling her eyes. She picked up her phone from the floor; her sister was still on the line, calling after her. While she turned it to her, she discovered her screen totally shattered. She would have cried if she could have…

Without further ado, she put her phone back to her ear and continued to go up the stairs. Her neighbour – a guy that moved in a couple of months ago and that was hardly saying ‘hello’ the few times they had seen each other in the hall – huffed and without thinking nor turning back, Y/N flipped him off. She would probably be ashamed of this later, but at that moment, she couldn’t care less of what he would think of her.

She couldn’t care less about anything anyway.

20th of December

Two days later, as Y/N was slowly accepting the fact that she would not be with her family for Christmas, she encountered her favourite neighbour in the hall again.

She had just gotten home from work and was collecting a parcel in her letterbox. This was a present for her sister that she wouldn’t be able to give her in the end and for which she couldn’t even pay stamp to ship it to her home. She would be lucky if she could return it and get a few dollars back.

As she was closing her letterbox, her neighbour entered the hall. Feeling a little guilty about the other night, Y/N’s first thought was to apologies for her behaviour. A quick look at the guy and the constant frown on his face made her swallow her saliva; hard.

He was good-looking though, with his blue-piercing eyes and full lips. The stubble on his chin –always of the same length whenever she would see him – let her think that he was taking care of himself; though the way he dressed was clearly demonstrating he wasn’t really on point on the fashion side. If he wasn’t always so… whatever he always was… she probably would have liked him. With his grumpy looks, he reminded her of this movie character she liked so much when she was a kid: the Grinch.

In silence, Y/N watched from the corner of her eyes as he also checked his mailbox, a couple of meters away from hers. After gathering the few letters in the box, he sighed and abruptly closed the door.

“What now?” he asked as he turned to her.

Y/N jumped to the tone of his voice. He was clearly annoyed at her while she hadn’t done anything. At least that day.

“No need to be a dick,” she quickly bit back, annoyance building up in her voice as much as his, and he huffed again – this seemed to be something he would do a lot. She had to take a quick deep breath before continuing: "I wanted to… apology for the other night.”

The words nearly burnt her mouth as she was saying them. It cost her a lot to admit her wrongs, yet his cold eyes only started at her, and he spoke no words back. She didn’t know how she wanted him to react, but his absence of reaction startled her, and only made her want to justify herself further.

“I wasn’t in a good mood,” she added.

“You are not the only one to have bad days,” was all he said before leaving.

Taken aback, Y/N watched as he climbed the stairs and disappeared out of his sight. She couldn’t believe how much of a jerk he had been. She swore this was the last time she would ever speak to him.

22nd of December

Y/N rarely overslept.

The only reason for that was that she didn’t sleep a lot. Ever since the blip, she had trouble finding sleep and then, staying asleep. It was like her body had a big fear of missing out on everything and anything, so it just let her sleep the number of hours she needed to keep going. She would have thought that with the double shifts she was doing, she would have slept better, but she didn’t. Instead, she stayed wide awake in her bed, fixing the ceiling, eyes heavy with tiredness. She had all this time to think about the misery of her own life.

However, it seemed that night that the tiredness had gotten the most out of her, and as she never set an alarm clock – because she rarely needed, she was now going to be late for work. She took only a couple of minutes to get ready, drink a coffee and brush her teeth all at the same times. Ten minutes later, she was already grabbing her stuff and putting her coat on.

As she opened the door of her apartment, she came face-to-face with her neighbour going up the stairs. They both immediately stopped in their tracks.

He looked at her. Her eyes still puffy from the fact she had still been sleeping less than fifteen minutes ago. Hair all other the place even if she had put hair clips in them to keep them into place. She had dressed up in such a hurry, the shirt of her uniform was halfway in and halfway out of her pants.

She looked at him looking at her. With the same frown on his face and the same cold glance. Just this time, the circles around his eyes were darker than ever and he looked much more tired than her. For the first time, she saw something vulnerable in him, a flash of sadness in the blankness of his face.

They looked at one another. So different yet somehow similar. With their inability to sleep properly, the memories that kept them up at night and their resentment about this life that had been taken away from them. Both of them with all their trauma and weaknesses. With their constant melancholy and sometimes, their good days.

They looked at each other some more and then they both continued on with their day.

24th of December

Y/N was just settling on her couch – which was also her bed – in front of the TV, wrapped in her fluffy blanket and two pairs of fleece socks on her feet when she heard a knock on her door. She froze instantly; bad memories coming back to her in an instant. She had been visited a few times by different people always banging on her door at sunrise; each time, it never had ended well. Per pure reflex, she held her breath as if whoever was on her front door would be able to hear her - the walls were probably thin, but not this thin.

After counting to ten and not hearing anything else, she relaxed into her sofa. It was probably just her imagination at this point, this was how tired she was. She reached for the remote on the coffee table and started an episode of her favourite TV show. This was when she heard a knock for the second time. One time too many for her.

This time she paused her show and got on her feet to have a look. Sulking for the five steps it took her to go to the front door, she opened it bluntly and was surprised to find her neighbour ‘The Grinch’.

He looked at her, surprised and she looked at him, probably even more surprised. Her gaze turned instinctively to her feet and the fluffy pyjamas she was wearing. She couldn’t help the heat crawling up her neck, so she looked back to him and her eyes got stuck on his hands. One of flesh and one of metal. Holding a metal box between them. That he was now holding up to her.

She frowned.

“For you.”

Her eyes moved up to his face again, to check if he was serious or not. She could have fallen asleep the minutes her show started and be dreaming; though from how cold her feet were, she was pretty sure she wasn’t. Nothing on his face indicated he was joking – he didn’t seem to be the type to joke anyway. He wasn’t actually frowning, but he still had a small wrinkle in between his two eyebrows from all the frowning he was doing that somehow it still looked like he was. She wouldn’t say the expression on his face was friendly, but it had something that for once made her not want to close the door on his face.

Perhaps, it was because of the straight line his lips were in. They which were was usually so pink and so… luscious. From that, she couldn’t tell what he was feeling right now – was he nervous? Or simply contemplating all his life choices now that he was in front of her. She knew it was costing him to be here in front of her.

She looked back at the metal box in his hands; was he really expecting her to take it?

“My ma’ used to cook cookies for our neighbours,” he stated as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. His glance adverted to the ceiling as if he was looking for the right words to continue: “I thought maybe… this was a good way to apologize. For the other day…and all the times before that.”

This time, it was Y/N’s time to stop frowning – she would have to check later if she had also a wrinkle. She took the box he was handing her and nodded, in some sort of way to mean ‘thank you’. The box was heavier than she had expected it to be. She wondered if he had made them himself, like his ‘ma’ was probably doing.

“My name is Bucky by the way.” Was all he said before leaving her like that, a box of cookies in her hands.

25th of December

Working at a restaurant had its own perks. One of them being that Y/N could have at least one meal a day in the form of the staff meal. And on special occasions – like today – she could even get home with leftovers, most of them she would normally stock up in her freezer to make sure she had something to eat in the next couple of days.

That day though, when she climbed up the stairs, she didn’t stop on the second floor where her apartment was. Instead, her feet got her to the fourth floor, on the second door on the right. One she had never been to and yet, she knew exactly where to find it.

She didn’t hesitate one second before knocking, though the few seconds she had to wait she did get cold feet and wonder if it was really a good idea. Bucky did have gifted her handmade cookies – she had eaten a couple after he left while watching her favourite show, and it was the best she probably ever had. However, it did not mean they were now friends. They were just two adults, seeing each other in the hall of their building sometimes. That was all… Then, why was she so damned pulled towards him?

Bucky opened the door when she was about to turn around. He had a blank tank top and black pants on. Thankfully, he did not seem to be in the middle of a Christmas dinner and his apartment was pretty quiet behind him. His usual frown had been replaced by raised eyebrows. He was surprised to see her, on Christmas day, in her work clothes, at his door. He would have probably expected her to be in her family, with her friends or boyfriend, even. Instead, she had nowhere better to be than in front of him, right now.

They stared at each other for what seemed to be a long time, before his cat – Alpine as he called after, while trying to stop it to get outside his apartment – came to rub itself against her legs. She immediately lowered herself to scratch it behind the ear and Bucky observed them without a word. His cat, who was usually more than a little fearful of people it didn't know, was on the verge of lying down on the floor and beg for belly rubs.

“Are you on your own too?” was the only thing he spoke, and she got back on her feet, suddenly remembering why she was actually here.

“Wanna share?” she asked while showing him the paper bag in which she had the leftovers from the restaurant.

His eyes scanned her face a little too long for Y/N’s liking that she grew nervous. She felt like an idiot, believing… whatever – she wasn’t even sure she was believing. She was just lonely, having been alone for too long. The only people she hung out with would be her colleagues, on her work time – and they had taken a drink together after work a time or two. Most of them were students or only planning to be in the job for a couple of months before bouncing back. None of them was like her, as if she had been the only one to disappear off of the surface of the earth.

Over the last few years, she had repeated to herself – over and over again – that she didn’t need anyone. It was true somehow; she was fine alone. It was just that today she wanted a break from all of this, and she had thought of him. Because she had seen the veil before his eyes. She had seen it on hers before. She knew why… He was just like her. And perhaps, she had thought, they could be alone together. That was what they called the Christmas spirit, no?

“I mean, I’ve got more than enough, and you can have some. We don’t need to eat together. Totally fine if you wish to be alone.” She overexplained, speaking so fast he couldn’t say a word, even if he wanted to. She was just going to go home anyway. It was probably already late in the day; she would eat some food because she could – it was a victory on its own. “And you’ve probably already eaten, it’s fine. Don’t mind me.”

She was going to turn around, but he stepped on the side, making room for her to get in. Alpine instantly trotted in, its tail straight as a pick.

“I’ve got Gin,” was all he said again. A man of a few words he was.

And that was how they would both of them spent their first Christmases with someone in years. They would drink gin, try a bit of every leftover Y/N had gotten and finish by some kind of French pastry neither of them knew how it was named. They would speak for hours – or sort of, it was a few words here and there, making sentences altogether. They would have a good time and when it was time for Y/N to go home, she would suggest doing it again and Bucky would smile in response. A soft smile that would warm her heart forever. A smile that illuminated his whole face and probably his life.

And perhaps that was what exactly what she had come to find that night.

Some warmth.

#lea's writing #jbb #lea's 2024 christmas series #christmas fic #bucky x reader #bucky x f!reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes one shot #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes x you #bucky angst #bucky barnes x female reader #mcu imagine #mcu oneshot #marvel imagine #marvel one shot

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holylulusworld · 21 days ago

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Two Souls - A Christmas snippet

Summary: Bucky Barnes and the winter soldier are your mate. Life with them is easy cause none of them would ever let anyone hurt you.

Pairing: Alpha!Bucky Barnes x Omega!Reader; Alpha!Winter Soldier (Barnie/Winter) x Omega!Reader

Warnings: a/b/o, a/b/o dynamics, fluff, true mates, protective Bucky/Winter Soldier, pregnant omega

A/N: Before part 3 finally drops, we are getting a little Christmas snippet.

Catch up here: Two Souls (2) - One Love

Bucky watches you with worry. Like Barnie, he is constantly concerned about you. Not only because you’re carrying their babies.

“She’s in the kitchen for too long. We should stop her from stressing over baking cookies.”

Barnie nods thoughtfully. He knows how much baking cookies means to you. You love Christmas, and expecting two babies with the alphas you love, made you even more nostalgic.

You want to indulge in all the traditions you loved as a child: baking cookies, decorating the house, listening to the most awful Christmas songs, and cooking for your family.

“We will help her,” Barnie finally says. He was watching you with fascination. It will be the first Christmas he can celebrate as his own person, not hidden in the back of Bucky’s mind. “I want to make cookies.”

He walks into the kitchen to look at the dough you rolled out.

“What’s this?” Barnie points at the snowman cookie cutter. “It looks like a—” He frowns while trying to find the right word. He still has problems finding the right words sometimes. It will take more time to learn all the things he missed out on while being trapped in Bucky’s mind.

“Snowman, alpha,” you softly say and grab his hand to place the cookie cutter in the palm of his hand. “See, this will turn the cookies into a cute snowman.”

“Snowman,” he repeats the word, smiling. “I like snowmen…I think. They are made of snow and only live in winter. I was Winter too…”

“Yeah,” you chuckle as Barnie looks at you like a puppy. “You were Winter too, Barnie. You still are.”

He grins now. “Winter is here to stay.”

“Alright kids,” Bucky walks into the kitchen, feeling left out. He stands to your left, while Barnie stands to your right, still looking at all the cookie cutters. “What are we making? Did you sit enough today and have a rest?”

“I sat the whole morning, Bucky,” you giggle, and throw some flour at him. “I’m fine, really. No pain, no exhaustion. I know my body. The babies sleep right now, and I want to finish the cookies.”

“We will help,” he says and grabs one of the cutters. Your alpha chuckles because the cutter looks like a tiny version of his metal arm. “Uh—is that my metal arm?” Bucky furrows his brows and looks at you.

“Yeah.” You shrug. “It’s a custom-made cookie cutter. Tony made them all for me.”

“A snowflake,” Barnie sounds like an excited child while holding the cutter in his hand. It looks like a wonder to him, and he feels his heart flutter. “That’s me, right?” He looks at you. “I’m Winter, and that’s a winter cookie cutter.”

“Yeah,” you reply, smiling. “I know you have a new name now, but the snowflake reminded me of you and the time we spent together when you were still Winter, Barnie.”

“I like it,” he presses the snowflake to his chest, smiling at Bucky. “I got my own cookie cutter.”

“Me too, punk,” Bucky laughs. “How about we cut those cookies with our cookie cutters? I bet I can cut more cookies than you in a minute.”

Barnie purses his lips and says, “I can cut more.”

You sigh deeply. “Alphas, no competition again! We want to enjoy baking cookies.” You give both alphas a stern look.

Both kiss one cheek to calm you. Giggling, you watch them choose their favorite cutter. Barnie goes for the snowflakes while Bucky chooses the tiny version of his metal arm.

“No competition, Barnie. Let’s bake cookies with our omega. Later, we can rub her feet and feed her with the cookies.”

Barnie nods eagerly. He cannot wait to rub your belly and feel the babies kick him.

“Winter will talk to the babies again. They need to know we are here to protect them.”

Tags in reblog.

#winter soldier #a/b/o #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #tw: pregnancy #winter soldier x reader #Two Souls - A Christmas snippet

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lamentationsofalonelypotato · 18 days ago

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Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV, Soldier Boy POV and Reader POV

Summary: All Soldier Boy wants for Christmas is to find the perfect gift for you and all you want is for your boyfriend to have the best Christmas he has in forty years. Reader is a supe with plant powers. (Takes place in my Take A Chance On Me Series- 4 months after they get together, but can be read as stand alone!)

Tropes: Established Relationship, First Christmas, Age Difference (Reader is in her 20s), Soft Ben/ Soldier Boy, Protective Ben/Soldier Boy

Word Count: 8.5K

Warnings: I'm going to label this 18+ because Soldier Boy (he's a warning and everyone knows it), Swearing, Mentions of Sex, Sexual Innuendo, Illusions to Sex, Fluff, Soft Soldier Boy, A little bit of self-deprecating thoughts, Soldier Boy is Mean to Hughie, Mention of drinking/drugs, Ben/Soldier Boy might be a little bit OOC.

Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal monologue is in italics and is in first person.

Take A Chance On Me Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Song Inspiration: Little Things By ABBA

A/N: I know I should be working on the epilogue of "Take a Chance on Me," but @zepskies wrote a lovely Christmas fic called 'Twas the Night for Dean Winchester, and it really just got me in a mood to write some Christmas Fluff! 🥰

Soldier Boy POV

Ben frowned at the delicate necklace laid on the black velvet cloth in front of him, the 10 carat diamonds catching in the brilliant lights that lined the ceiling of the jewelry store. It was the eleventh piece of jewelry that he'd asked the woman behind the counter to remove from the display case, and it still wasn't right.

Ben had waited until the last possible moment to go Christmas shopping. It wasn't because he'd forgotten or because he'd been so busy he hadn't had time to shop or because he'd been called away on a mission, but rather Ben kept putting it off because he didn't want to think about it.

It was his first Christmas back in the U.S, and it was already proving to be one so different than the ones he'd known before.

Christmas for him in his youth when his mother was alive was filled with light and joy. Each room of his family's mansion strung with tinsel, adorned with holly and festive wreaths, and a Christmas tree so large that it put all others to shame and sent the smell of pine wafting thorough the large home. He remembered the lavish parties his mother threw with women in gorgeous gowns and men dressed in suits taking crystal glasses from silver trays, remembered the warmth in the kitchen as his mother baked and rolled fresh pastry, remembered the taste of the hot chocolate on the tip of his tongue that his mother made him before she sent him to bed on Christmas Eve, and remembered her tight embrace and the smell of her floral perfume on Christmas morning when he'd run down the stairs into the living room.

Ben's jaw tightened.

Christmas without her was different, the large mansion where he lived with his father was cold and dark. The hallways desolate and frozen in the winter months that lead into spring, the kitchen no longer heated by the warmth of the oven or infused with the smell of gingerbread, the parlor no longer tinkling with the sounds of glasses and the laughter of guests, the living room no longer housed a Christmas tree so tall that it made the Eiffel tower look like a trinket, and there were no longer Christmas parties where people danced into the wee hours of the morning and poured themselves into bed smelling of champagne and eggnog.

All that was left was the drunken stupor of his father, the harsh words that echoed down the long hallways, and the urge for Ben to find the nearest bottle and drown himself in it.

Ben spent most of his years as a supe trying to forget the years that followed his mother's death and also his Christmases as a supe washing away the memory of the ones that seemed to be infused with the magic of Christmas in his youth.

Ben spent them at Legend's Christmas party with his woman of the hour clinging to his arm, making painful small talk and waiting until the party turned into a hedonistic thrall of sweat and skin as so many others had. And the next morning when he woke up from the fog, he turned back to the little white line that promised to make him forget and the amber bottle that did little to ease the reality that started to sink in.

But this year was different, because he had you.

You who loved Christmas more than anyone he'd ever met, you who was slowly reminding him how much he used to love Christmas as a child, you who'd dragged him to go Christmas tree shopping before Thanksgiving, you who had encouraged him to help decorate the small apartment the two of you shared with so many Christmas lights it was blinding, and you who had planned something Christmas themed every week for the past month whether it be baking Christmas cookies or watching Christmas movies while drinking hot chocolate on the couch. And in each moment, you'd found some way to include him in it.

Ben wasn't used to that.

He wasn't used to someone wanting him there with them and someone like you going out of your way to include him in everything you did.

If a person had tried to tell him in the past that he'd ended up with someone like you, someone who smiled easily, someone who always put other people first, someone who actually gave a shit about him, someone who was always so damn warm and welcoming, someone who included in him everything you did in a way that didn't make Ben feel like an old grump, and someone who tried their best to make sure that Ben remembered every day that you wanted him around, he would have laughed in that person's face.

And yet there you were.

Truth be told Ben knew that the old version of him probably wouldn't have let someone like you close to him, let alone fall in love with them.

Ben hadn't met anyone else like you in the numerous years he'd been alive and he really didn't want to fuck it up. He'd fucked up so many other things in his life and he hadn't cared, but if it involved you, he wouldn't dare.

Hence, the current dilemma of him standing in the crowded Tiffany store at 8 pm two days before Christmas with you waiting at home for him to exchange gifts. Ben wanted to pick the perfect gift for you, but nothing felt right.

He'd never given much thought to what to buy someone for Christmas. In the past usually an expensive piece of jewelry, a handbag, a dress, or a car would have made any of Ben's many escapades swoon, but not you. Ben had tried to give you jewelry before, expensive jewelry that would have made any of those other women drop to their knees, but you were different.

And as much as Ben loved that about you, it was only making this worse for him.

The one time that he'd tried to give you a gift outright, a beautiful diamond and emerald drop pendant with earrings to match, you hadn't been impressed. Sure, you'd thought that it was beautiful, but you'd told him that you liked gifts that "meant something."

Whatever the fuck that meant.

And he knew for a fact that the 10 carat diamond necklace on the velvet pillow in front of him would mean nothing to you.

"Fuck." Ben murmured under his breath, and the saleswoman stiffened.

"Still not quite right?" She asks, adjusting the sleeves of her navy blue blazer. "We have some bigger jewel-"

"It's not the fucking size." Ben snaps frustrated.

He was running late. He knew that you were waiting at home for him to bring back dinner and to give him his present, the one that he was sure would be thoughtful and perfect for him because you were always so damn caring.

The other shoppers were pushing and shoving their way to the counters where other salespeople stood in identical navy blazers and white button down shirts, the tension and buzz of two days to Christmas electrifying the air, while Christmas music that Ben couldn't recognize played in the background.

His supe hearing made it worse. Sometimes it was a bit overwhelming and as much as Ben pretended that he didn't have PTSD, he did. Being surrounded by this many people was not helping. It was in moments like this when you were there, would hold entwine your fingertips with his and brush your thumb gently over the back of his hand to ground him as if you could sense his discomfort.

Ben hadn't ever had someone care enough to notice things like that. Another reason why he wanted to find you the perfect gift, because you put up with all his shit and didn't ask for anything in return.

"Ben?" He hears a familiar voice ask, hesitant, and he turns to see Annie standing a few feet inside the open doorway. S

he's wearing a black puffer jacket and her hair is hidden under a red stocking cap, while Hughie holds the door for her. Hughie's arms were laden down with bags while Annie's remained bare. The winter wind blew in through the space, flecking bits of snow onto the rugs that had been laid out to avoid the customers sliding through the sludge.

"Hey." Ben grunts, not quite smiling.

He wasn't good at talking to your best friend or her boyfriend. Personally he thought that Hughie was a fucking pussy and that he didn't have the balls to tell Annie no, but the one time Ben had told you that, you'd only rolled your eyes and told him that Hughie "loved Annie."

Ben loved you and he did have the balls to tell you no, but Ben thought that sometimes it was better to keep his mouth shut and do what you asked. Not to mention Ben hated saying no to you when it was something that could make you happy. Ben liked making you as happy as you made him.

He flinched at the thought. The self-deprecating monologue was beginning to seep in, the one that told him you were turning him into a "pussy" and that he should cut and run. The same monologue that made him make a mistake and run back to Vought a few months ago when he should have run to you.

Ben shakes it off.

"What are you doing here? I thought you two were going to leave this morning for Illinois?" Annie asks in surprise used to Ben's grouchy demeanor.

Your grandmother turned Christmas into a two day extravaganza, complete with a Christmas Eve and a Christmas Day party. And although Ben and you were supposed to begin the 14 hour drive to Illinois this morning, your grandmother had insisted the two of you catch a flight first thing tomorrow.

"Decided to catch a flight tomorrow." Ben replies.

Ben was secretly happy, because flying meant that he wasn't going to have to drive 14 hours in the snow. The two of you had driven to Illinois once before, and Ben hadn't minded it. You’d been more upset with him for not letting you drive, but Ben liked driving. Driving meant that he was in control and in an emergency situation he wouldn't have to reach over the console and yank the wheel to save the two of you and driving meant that you could relax in the passenger seat and work on whatever it was you were crocheting.

"Like us!" Hughie flashes Ben a wide smile that Ben doesn't feel the need to return. “You should have told us. We could have all traveled together!”

Ben's frown deepens at the thought at being stuck in a metal tube for hours with Hughie and he knew that if you were here you would probably elbow him in the side and tell him to "be nice." If anyone had ever tried to do that to him in the past, he would have ripped their arm off, but not you.

"Last minute shopping?" Hughie asks trying again.

Ben dragged his eyes over the numerous bags hanging from Hughie's arms. "Yeah. You too?"

"Mhmm. We just finished." Annie replies. Her gaze drops to the diamond necklace on top of the display case that the saleswoman is fiddling with. "Is that for-"

"No. Of course not!" Ben says sharper than he means to, shoulders tensing. But him standing in this store when he knew that you were waiting at home for him to celebrate Christmas made him feel like Annie and Hughie had caught him red-handed. "She doesn't like jewelry." He adds referring to you as he takes a step back from the counter and the sales associate who looks confused.

“But sir-“ The woman begins to say, but Ben waves a hand to shut her up.

"Why do you think that?" Annie asks interrupting the woman.

"Because she yelled at me when I bought her that diamond and emerald necklace!" He shouts so loud that some of the other customers turn to stare at him. "This was a fucking mistake, I have to go-" Ben starts to stomp out the door and past Annie not sure where he's going, but she shifts to stand in his way. His eyes narrow in annoyance, thinking about all the ways that he could move her.

He only put up with Annie because she was your best friend and he knew that if he did anything to her then it would upset you, and Ben didn't like upsetting you.

Well, he did think that it was cute when you got angry with him. Your eyebrows scrunched together, your cheeks turned a cute shade of pink, and your eyes seemed to glow with the force of your anger. There were few people who had the courage to tell him off, but the more you did it, the more he started to like it.

But this was different, and now thinking about you only reminded him of his current dilemma.

"Ben, wait a minute." Annie says.

"What?" He snaps

He could practically feel the seconds ticking away until he had to go back to the apartment. It was the first time that he'd ever dreaded going home and seeing you and fuck he hated every single moment of it.

"She does like jewelry." Annie's mouth drops into a sympathetic smile.

Ben tried not to get more angry when he saw the pitying look in her eye. He didn't need her pity, didn't need anyone's pity! He was still Soldier Boy damnit!

"Then why the fuck did she-"

"She doesn't like this kind of jewelry." Annie clarifies. "She like vintage stuff, simple, refined. Hell, I have to practically drag her away from the display cases at Atomic Archives."

"Atomic Archives?" Ben asks hesitantly. He had no idea what Annie was talking about. You'd never mentioned that place before.

"Yeah, it's our favorite antique store. It’s about two blocks over from where the plant shop used to be.”

"Can you show me where it is?" Ben says it before he can stop himself, his heart surging with hope at the possibility of finding the perfect gift for you.

"I mean I-" Annie begins to say, but Hughie interrupts.

"Babe, didn’t you say that the owner was closed this week because she went out of town?" Hughie asks her, throwing a sympathetic look in Ben's direction that made him bristle.

"Oh, right." Annie sighs.

Ben felt the hope inside pop and deflate like a pricked balloon, but the longer he stood there in the crowded shop, with the ostentatious jewelry twinkling under the lights, the buzz of the chatter of other shoppers, and the ridiculous new-age Christmas music that grated on his ears, he began to have an idea.

"Come on." Ben might have said it as a suggestion, but it wasn’t open for debate. As much as he didn't want to admit it, he needed Annie and unfortunately that meant that Hughie was going to tag along.

"What?" Annie sputtered.

"Come the fuck on. I don’t have time for this." Ben snaps back and stomps out the doorway past Annie and Hughie into the snow.

"But what about-" Hughie begins to say and Ben whirls around to glare at him, eyes narrowing. "Okay you got it. Lead the way buddy." Hughie nods his head in agreement.

"I'm not your fucking buddy." Ben sighs under his breath.

Soldier Boy POV

"This place is really murdery." Ben hears Hughie whisper to Annie from somewhere behind him. "Do you think Ben is going to try to kill us? Should I call Butc-"

"I'm not going to fucking kill you!" Ben snaps, pulling out his keys, the jingle of the metal echoing down the long hallway. "And I guess you really can't make a decision without that British fuck can you?”

The storage unit warehouse was desolate, but that was to be expected, it was after all two days to Christmas and most were more focused on buying things to put in their storage units than moving things out. The lights along the roof of the steel gray hallway flicker and throw long shadows over the navy blue doors of the units doing little to alleviate the creepy aura.

In hindsight Ben did agree that this particular storage space was "murdery," but it was the only one that he could get close to the apartment last minute. The same apartment that Ben has been trying to convince you to move out of.

It wasn't the safest neighborhood, and Ben hated the thought that you'd lived there as long as you had, walking home at night alone before he moved in. Now it wasn't a problem because Ben never let you walk by yourself. And as hard as you'd fought him not to live in a "big fancy apartment" all Ben wanted was to live somewhere where he could imagine staying permanently. Not in a small one bedroom apartment where he had to stoop in the shower, the bed barely fit in the bedroom, and seemed too small for one person let alone two.

He knew that he was wearing you down, but he still had a long way to go.

"Why are we here then?" Hughie asks.

"You're here because your girlfriend wouldn’t come without you.” Ben rolls his eyes as he fits the key into the thick padlock.

He was getting tired of listening to Hughie’s whining. He heard enough of that when he was stuck on missions with him, but he was tolerating him, for the moment at least. He had to, because if he didn't then he was never going to be able to find the perfect gift for you.

The interior of the storage unit isn't anything special. Ben didn't have much that he wanted to keep from his old life, as a supe or from his childhood. The things inside this storage unit were the only things that Ben had left that didn't cause him to be reminded of how his father chastised him or the drafty home that Ben returned to each time he got kicked out of another boarding school.

The mansion that had been in his family for decades had sat abandoned and locked up, hidden from the main roads so it was undisturbed after Ben's father died. Ben had gone to Philadelphia a few months ago to get things in order with the bank and prepare it for sale, but had been surprised when you told him you wanted to come.

He didn't think that you'd want to be involved in something so tedious, but it was almost as if you could sense how hard it was going to be for him, and you'd insisted.

Ben had no intention of setting foot inside, but you were curious and even though it made Ben's throat tight to walk down the dusty cobwebbed halls, the wonder on your face as you walked through made the cold memories of the world he knew before he was a supe fade into the background.

And this storage unit was all that was left of that life.

Ben located the old steamer trunk with ease. It was a faded gray now, but Ben remembered the day his father bought it for his mother. When the grayed sides were a soft supple black, the metal lock and edging were a polished gold, and the rose patterned fabric that lined the inside was soft and covered in bright pink flowers.

When Ben opens the trunk, he catches the smell of the floral perfume his mother used to wear and after all these years it makes him remember the tight hugs she'd give him the moment she sent him off to bed and the tight hugs she'd given him when he rushed down the stairs on Christmas morning.

He didn't like thinking about her or talking about her, but sometimes he would think of her when he was with you. Whenever you did something caring without being asked or whenever you took the time to check in to see how he was doing. Not that you were motherly, just that Ben hadn't had anyone in a long time care about little things like that.

The only other "relationship" he'd tried to have was with Crimson Countess and she didn't do any of the things for him that you did. There wasn't any comparison between the two of you as far as Ben was concerned.

He shakes off the memory the way he always does and moves some of his mother's clothes for the cherry wood carved box that he knows is in the bottom.

He opens it slowly, extracting a small velvet box from within, one of many inside that Ben probably should have taken to the bank ages ago for safe keeping. Ben's father had a tendency to buy things for his mother whenever he "messed up" and the small velvet boxes inside were proof of that.

Ben turns back to where Annie and Hughie are watching with curiosity at the door of the storage unit. "Here."

"Here?" Annie says hesitantly looking at the velvet box in Ben's hand.

"You brought us out here for a box?" Hughie huffs.

Ben narrows his eyes. "No. And if you tell anyone about this I'll turn you inside out, ass-wipe."

"Why do you always have to be so-" Hughie begins to say, but Annie nudges him in the side.

Ben wondered briefly if Annie and Hughie also tried to tolerate him the same way that he tolerated them for you.

"Wow." Annie says, her voice hushed and reverent when she opens the box with strands of her blonde hair falling out around the hat.

"You think she'll like it?" Ben clears his throat, trying not to wince at the question.

He hated that he was relying on Annie for this or relying on anyone in general. Ben would have rather taken a long walk off a short pier than anyone for help, but he was just so desperate to make sure that the first Christmas the two of you spent together was perfect.

You deserved that and Ben wanted to give it to you.

"She will."

"Good." Ben takes the box back, but decides to bring the wooden box with him back to the apartment just in case. His eyes narrow as he looks over at Hughie. "If you tell anyone about this, I'll shove your head up Butcher's ass. Then again, you two would probably enjoy something like that."

"You're welcome." Annie raises an eyebrow.

"Whatever." Ben mutters.

Reader POV

Ben was late and you were starting to worry.

Not that Ben was always punctual. The man was about as punctual as the White Rabbit, but rather Ben was sure to let you know when he was running late. Not to mention Ben was rarely late to things that he knew were important to you.

And tonight was special or at least you wanted it to be.

You look at your phone again to check the time, noting that it was nearing nine and Ben had told you he was going to be back at eight. You were trying not to think too much about it, busying yourself with other little things, like packing for your trip to your grandmother's home in Illinois. Something that you would have ended up doing about an hour before you had to go to the airport, but you knew that would only annoy Ben.

But you liked annoying him.

Ben's nostrils would flare, his jaw would flex, and the green of his eyes would darken in a way that sent a pleasurable shiver down his spine, but tonight you were too anxiety ridden at how late he was to care about making him annoyed.

Ben and you were supposed to leave this morning to drive the 14 hours to your hometown in Illinois, but you'd called your grandmother a few days ago and asked her if Ben and you could fly in instead.

You wanted the two of you have a Christmas alone before you dragged him back home and made him sit through the two holiday parties your grandmother threw. So you'd planned a quiet Christmas at home where the two of you could drink eggnog, watch some holiday movies, and exchange gifts before Ben was subjected to every single person you'd known since you were six.

But Ben didn’t seem to mind any of that.

Regardless, you were going all out this Christmas. It was Ben's first since he'd come back to the States and you wanted it to be perfect and it was the first Christmas the two of you were spending together as a couple.

The anxious energy that thrummed through your veins reached out into the numerous plants in your apartment, that shifted and stirred as your powers coaxed them forward. The vines that crept along the walls shook with an unnatural breeze, the Christmas tree grew an inch taller, the mistletoe hanging above the front door grew another few shimmering berries, the blackberry and raspberry vines that hung over your refrigerator fidgeted and wove together into a curtain while the tomato plant in the garden box above your sink dropped bright red fruit onto the counter, and the orange/lemon tree that sat behind your kitchen table blocking the view of the alley beyond shook it's branches for a moment. You could feel everything alive in your apartment leaning towards you as if waiting for your silent command.

Rex, the creature you'd created from broken vines and trampled leaves four months ago, flicks his eyes over to you sensing the same disturbance the rest of the plants inside could.

You bite the inside of your cheek fighting your urge to check your phone even though you know that less than a minute has passed since you'd last checked. Instead you fiddle with the ribbon on the lumpy wrapped gift that is perched on your lap.

Shopping for Ben had been difficult to say the least.

You weren't sure what to get your 104 boyfriend who'd lived as a hedonistic playboy for most of his life and you didn't like giving gift cards (you didn't think Ben would understand the concept) or giving people meaningless trinkets that they used once and then threw away (the Grinch was right about some things). You liked giving gifts that you put time and effort into that you were sure the recipient was going to love.

And you were sure that the package on your lap contained the perfect gift and you were excited to see the look on Ben's face when he unwrapped it.

Your cat Bean purrs where he sits beside you on the couch and Rex your, for lack of a better word, Dragon was watching the multicolored lights on the Christmas tree in the corner blink on and off.

It was bigger for your apartment than it should be, but Ben had insisted on getting it and you couldn't complain. Not when he genuinely seemed to be happy to stand there in the snow picking out a tree with you.

And after when no Uber driver agreed to pick the two of you up because of the tree, Ben had carried it on his shoulder fifteen blocks while you begged him to let you help. When you'd tried to take some of the tree, Ben had shifted it to his other shoulder and taken your hand instead, which wasn't what you meant when you reached out towards him, but you didn't let go, not when it was cold and Ben's hand was warm.

The one jammed into the corner of your small living room didn't have a leaf out of place or any signs of decay. You'd fixed that with a flick of a finger.

You'd gone all out with decorations.

Every plant in your apartment had lights of their own and ornaments that swung just out of reach from your pets. Christmas lights were strung down the hallway and there was a wreath on your bedroom door. Strands of mistletoe hung over every doorway in your apartment and there was one taped to the wall above your bed. That one was Ben's doing, but you couldn't complain, not when it felt so damn good to kiss him.

Ben hadn't spoken about the Christmases he spent in the past, but he'd listened to you talk about your Christmases growing up when the two of you decorated the tree with ornaments you'd collected over the years.

He might not have been big on sharing, but your boyfriend was good at listening. Not just pretending to listen, but actually being quiet and wanting to learn more about what you're saying. You'd thought it was odd when you became roommates and you realized just how much Ben listened and remembered what you told him, but now it was one of the reasons that made you love your boyfriend more.

You sighed, a happy smile on your face. You didn't think that you could feel this way about anyone, let alone someone you hated for so long, but you did. Ben was changing the belief you had about what relationships should look like, and you were sure that you were doing the same for him.

You hear the jingle of keys and the fumble of the doorknob as Ben slowly opens the front door and you leap from the couch.

"You're home!" You exclaim as your body hits his full speed, but he doesn't move. It was difficult for you to produce enough force to move him, difficult for anyone really.

Ben chuckles "Miss me Petals?"

He moves the plastic bag of Chinese food to his left hand so he can hug you back, his right hand fitting comfortably over the small of your back to hold you tighter against him.

You could remember the first time you hugged him, when all he did was stand there with his hands at his sides awkwardly while you held on to him as tight as you could. This was better. Ben's embrace is warm and strong, unyielding, but full of the love that he’d had such a hard time admitting.

"Yes." You squeeze him hard, smiling into his jacket that's flecked with melting snow, cold against your skin, but the warmth of his body soaks through the chill and into you. You sigh, nuzzling further into him. "I was worried-"

"Why?" Ben's voice rumbles through his chest, against your cheek.

"Because you weren't home yet." You pull back to stare up at him. His brilliant green eyes catch in the multicolored strands of Christmas lights, strung through your apartment. There's snow caught in his dark hair, turning to water and dripping down into his face in the warmth of the apartment.

Ben frowns. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay. You're here now." You smile arching up to kiss him. Ben groans into your mouth, his grip on you tightening as he deepens the kiss, pressing the hand on the small of your back just a little more to secure you against his chest.

You sigh softly, content in living in this moment with him for another few precious seconds. The heat of his body transferring into you the longer you stand pressed against him, soaking through your sweatpants and chunky sweater in the best way.

You'd never felt this way about anyone in the past. There hadn't been another boyfriend who'd treated you the way Ben did, no other boyfriend who'd cared about the little things, and no other boyfriend who you were so in love with. Even your first love so long ago faded into the background, the one you thought you'd never get over, and all that was left was Ben.

You're too excited about giving Ben his gift to eat. You sit cross-legged on the plush gray couch so close to him that your knees are touching the outside of his thigh as Ben places the boxes of food onto your coffee table. The anxious energy tingling in the pit of your stomach and buzzing in your chest so much that it's difficult to sit still.

And before Ben can give you your chopsticks, you thrust the lumpy wrapped package onto his lap with a wide smile.

"You first!" You say.

Ben shakes his head. "It should be ladies first."

“I’m not a lady Ben. We both know that-“

“Sorry sweetheart that’s the way it goes.”

“Don't be so old fashioned Gramps. It's 2024.” You roll your eyes at him, laughing at the cute frown that pulls at his lips when you use the nickname. Ben never liked it, but when you'd first met, Ben hadn't told you his real name, and you'd assigned him the nickname and it had stuck when you realized how much it annoyed him.

That was when he did everything in his power to annoy you as well, so it seemed like a good fit.

In all honesty, you didn't hate how old fashioned Ben was, if anything it was a relief, a reprieve from the way the modern boys treated women. It was nice to finally be with a man who actually gave a shit about you and cared what you wanted.

"And I really want you to open yours first." You plead as you lean towards him. "Oh, and this goes with it."

You reach down behind the couch to grab the small golden barrel cactus, avoiding the sharp yellow spines, and place it on the minimal space left on the coffee table. You'd crocheted a dark green sleeve to go around the terra cotta pot.

"You got me a cactus?" Ben snorts.

"I mean, I have so many plants in here and I thought that you'd want one that was yours. Plus, you'll never have to water it." You gesture with one hand to the numerous plants around the room, the ones bathed in the multicolored lights from the Christmas Tree, the ones with bright green leaves that unfurled towards the light, the others with hanging vines that trailed to the ground so thick that you couldn't remember the color of the wall, the apple tree with ripe red fruit, and the numerous herbs in the garden box that hung over your kitchen sink. "And I gave it a sweater."

"Why did you give it a sweater?"

"It’s used to a warm climate and because I had some yarn left over."

"From?"

"You're just going to have to open your gift and find out." You shrug, but can barely contain your excitement.

Ben shakes his head at you, but a smile twitches on the corner of his lips. You knew that your boyfriend loved you because you were different than anyone he'd ever met, and you reveled in that. You liked that even though Ben was older than you, that no matter how many other experiences he'd had in his life, you were a first for him just as Ben was a first for you.

He rips through the paper carefully, trying hard not to ruin what was inside, the sound of crinkling and tearing blocking out the Christmas playlist for a moment that you'd put on before Ben had come home, but you can hear the ABBA song clear as day.

For a moment he stares down at the gift not quite comprehending what the lumpy mass in his lap is, but then he picks it up.

It had taken a month for you to pick out the perfect dark green yarn that was soft but not too soft, green but not too green, and another two months for you to finish it when Ben wasn't home, but you were proud of the sweater that you'd made your boyfriend.

He stares at it for another few beats, holding it up to the light, and it makes you worry that maybe you should have bought him something at the mall instead.

"You made me a sweater?" He asks, there's something on the edge of his voice that you can't place, some traces of emotion that you're not able to identify.

"Yeah. I wanted to make you something." You clear your throat, worried. "I mean- you don't have any and I know that you keep saying you run a little warm, but I figured we're going to Illinois for Christmas and it might be cold."

Ben doesn't say anything and you start to feel the self-doubt come roaring in.

Why did I make him a sweater? I should have bought him some cologne or something.

"And you complained when Butcher sent you on that mission to Alaska last month and I just thought that-“ You press your lips into a tight line, shoulders drooping. “If you don't like it I can keep it for me-" You fumble, but before you can finish, Ben yanks you into his lap.

His hands cup your cheeks as he kisses you so fiercely that it wipes any doubts from your mind. You make a surprised sound in the back of your throat, but sink into the kiss. “Don’t you fucking dare.” Ben mutters against your lips.

Your blush burns against your face. “You like it?”

He nods. “ No one’s ever made me anything before.” His voice comes out a little bit gruff, as if he’s embarrassed to admit it, but it makes you smile.

“I figured and I wanted to change that.” Your fingertips dance over his forehead, brushing away the hair that’s fallen forward before your hand drops to cup his cheek, feeling the scratch of his beard against the palm of your hand. “But you’re sure you like it?”

Ben kisses you again, his large hands settling on your hips with an encouraging squeeze. “I do.”

“Good. Merry Christmas.” You wrap your arms around the back of his neck to hug him for a minute, sinking into his embrace with a happy smile.

"Merry Christmas doll." Ben murmurs into your hair, affection lacing his words.

Again, you send a mental thank you to your grandmother for understanding that Ben and you needed a day to be together and celebrate the way you wanted to before coming to stay. Not that you didn't like the Christmas Eve party or the Christmas day party, but you wanted to give Ben this. You noticed that Ben still had a hard time being in places with a lot of people when the PTSD came roaring back, and you wanted to show him what Christmas meant to you and hopefully show what Christmas would look like between the two of you as long as you were together.

“Sweetheart you gotta open yours now.” Ben’s voice rumbles, the warmth of his breath on your ear. It makes a pleasurable shiver thrill skate down your spine when you think of all the other times the two of you have been this close.

“It’s okay I can wait.” You hum into his throat, content, but Ben won't give in.

He pushes you back gently from his chest shaking his head. “Too bad. It's your turn."

"Fine." You start to move back to the space beside him, but Ben's hands catch on your hips to stop you.

"I didn't say I wanted you to move did I?" His smile turns more smirk.

"I-"

"How many times do I have to tell you that I like having you on top of me?" Ben purrs, kissing under your jaw, his beard scratching in a way that makes your throat tight.

"Keep doing that and the only thing I'm going to unwrap is you." You sigh in a half-moan, fingers curling into the hair at the base of his neck.

"After." Ben leans back to reach into his coat pocket and pulls out a small black velvet box that fits in the palm of your hand.

You hesitate to open it.

It wasn't that you didn't want jewelry for Christmas, it was that Ben and you had done this song and dance before after he tried to make you wear a diamond and emerald necklace with jewels bigger than your index, middle, and third finger put together. The whole time you wore it the only thing you could think about is how many groceries you could have bought with the necklace, how much you were afraid that it was going to break, and how much you feared that you were going to lose it or someone was going to try and steal it.

Maybe that was ridiculous, but extravagant gifts never appealed to you. You liked gifts that meant something, gifts that were heartfelt and thoughtful, gifts like the bookshelf Ben had gotten you months ago before you were dating because he noticed you needed one. Not to mention you loved just spending time with Ben. If he hadn't gotten you anything you would have been content with just sitting with him on the couch and watching a Christmas movie.

But you smile, because you don't want to hurt his feelings and because it's his first Christmas in forty years and you wanted it to be special.

It's Christmas and I will be thankful and happy with whatever he got me, because Ben was thinking of me when he bought it.

You think to yourself as you open the box.

The first thing you notice is that the box isn't as new as you thought, the inside of the lid is printed in ancient script that's a little faded, worn against the aged white silk that lines it. Your eyes drift to the piece of jewelry nestled on the pillow. It's a silver locket, hexagon shaped, and about the size of your thumb. The face is printed with weaving ivy leaves and roses that reach to a simple plain border.

Simple, stately, and completely you.

Ben is uncharacteristically quiet, but he breaks the silence first. "Do you-" He clears his throat, "Do you like it?"

He asks it hesitantly, as if he's afraid to hear your answer. It was unusual for Ben to look so nervous.

You can only nod, any words you had stuck in the back of your throat. Your fingernail finds the seam between the two pieces of metal and you gently unlatch the locket to see the picture inside. There's a piece of glass protecting a yellowed photo of a little boy who looks no more than five standing in a small black suit. You didn't think that they made suits for kids that small. He's smiling and one of his teeth are missing, but he looks oddly familiar.

"Who is this?" You ask. The more you look at the photo the more you think that you've seen him before.

"It's me." He says it quiet, almost a whisper.

"You? But-"

"It was my mother's." He clarifies and you inhale sharply in surprise.

"Really?"

He nods once, looking uncomfortable. By now you knew that moments like this usually made your boyfriend uncomfortable no matter how many times that you'd told him that he didn't have to be uncomfortable about being vulnerable. He was getting a little better, slowly, very slowly.

"Oh Ben I don't know if I should-" You shake your head, afraid to touch something so old.

Ben didn't often speak about his mother, but when he did, it was always reverent and respectful. You could see in his eyes how much he had loved her and how much he had cared about her. His father, Ben also didn't like talking about, but Ben never spoke of his father with the kindness that he'd spoke about his mother.

And you didn't want to take something like this away from him, something that meant so much to him, because of how much he loved his mother.

"No. I-" He clears his throat and Ben's hand tightens on your waist. "I want you to have it."

"But-" You stutter.

"What else am I going to do with it Petals? Can't exactly wear it myself." Ben chuckles, but the humor doesn't quite reach his eyes.

“Yeah, but it’s your mom’s and I-“ You trail off still looking at the photo of Ben as a little boy. He had the same mischievous twinkle in his eyes that you loved, the same unruly dark hair, but there was something different about him. He looked happier. It was the same look that Ben had when it was just the two of you together, the happiness that you wanted Ben to feel the rest of his life when he understood what it was like to be loved and cherished.

And it made you understand that the last time Ben must have felt loved and cherished was when his mother was still alive. It broke your heart to know that Ben had lived all these years without her and missed that in his life.

The locket was beautiful and the fact that Ben remembered what you said about liking gifts that “meant something” made your heart flutter.

Because this meant something. Ben taking the time to go through his mother’s jewelry and pick something out just for you that was special to him that he wanted to share with you, meant more than the emerald and diamond necklace he had tried to give you months ago.

There were tears burning behind your eyes the more you look at the photo of the little boy.

Ben is watching you. “Well-“ He shrugs. “I'm an only child. Which means I don't have any siblings who have wives to fight over this stuff so, I figured that if anyone was going to get it, it should be you. If you don't take it, it'll sit in that fucking storage unit. Seems like a shame."

You don't answer.

"And-" He hesitates, "I think my mom would have wanted you to have it. Hell, she might have given it to you, if I'd brought you home to meet her."

Your cheeks flush.

Ben studies you for another minute, before you watch his smile twitch into a frown. "Fuck, I knew I shouldn't have gotten you jewelry. Annie said that you liked jewelry, but I told her you didn't and now the bitch is probably having a good laugh with that pussy of a boyfriend! Forget about it sweetheart, I'll go get you something else right now-" Ben tries to take the box from you, but you swat his hand away.

“Don't you fucking dare!” You shout, using the same words that he said to you when you tried to take his sweater away.

"But you don't like it-"

"I do! And knowing how much this means to you, makes it better."

"Really?"

You nod, a wide smile wiping away any uncertainty in his gaze. "Will you help me put it on?"

"Sure." Ben says gruffly. His voice has lowered a little, and you know that it's a mixture of pride and love mingling in the tone. It made something break open deep inside and flood your ribcage with love.

You turn your neck to the side, pulling your hair away from the skin as Ben hooks the chain together at the nape of your neck. The cool metal of the necklace against your skin and the weight are unfamiliar, but you already knew that you wouldn’t be taking it off anytime soon. "It's perfect!" You pull Ben in for a kiss, threading your fingers into his dark hair.

Ben smiles into your mouth, holding you tight against him as if he never wants to let you go and you don't want him to.

It was odd to think that you'd only been together for four months, but you couldn't imagine your life without him. It seemed ridiculous for you to think that Ben was it after such a short time, but he was. You'd never rushed into anything in your entire life, but then Ben was there shattering every expectation that you had, enough to make you throw your inhibitions to the wind and jump feet first into the unknown if it meant he was with you.

The kiss is softer than the one the two of you shared at your front door, filled with more emotion than Ben usually let the world see, but he was opening up bit by bit, learning that you wouldn't judge him for that and it made you feel sky high.

This was the relationship you'd always wanted, and you never thought that you'd have it with Ben, but now that you were here you wouldn't change a thing, because it wouldn’t have put you in his arms.

"You can change the picture." Ben murmurs into your lips.

"No way. I don't have any kid photos of you. And I'm pretty sure you'll see all of mine this week.”

“I bet you were cute.” Ben smiles, raising one of the hands from your hip to push your hair from your face. “Hard to imagine you being any other way sweetheart.”

"Debatable." You sigh, nipping at his bottom lip in a way that makes Ben pull you back to him.

And when the kiss turns hungry, with you gripping his hair so tight you'd be sure that it would hurt anyone else, and with his fingers pushing up the bottom of your t-shirt to feel the warmth of your skin against his hands and find the dips and curves of your body that make you moan into his mouth, you can't help but think that this is the best Christmas you'd ever had.

"I do think it's later sweetheart." Ben's eyes shine with mischief, mouth pulling into the familiar smirk that makes your knees weak.

"Good. Because I have one other gift for you." You moan as Ben's mouth trails down to your jaw, his beard prickling against the sensitive skin, in a way that drives you mad.

"It's not another plant is it?" He bites just under your jaw and you tighten your hands in his hair, gasping softly. "Fuck, I love those sounds you make baby." Ben murmurs.

"No." You've lost all ability to form sentences, not when he's so perfectly warm and the trail of his hands working up your abdomen consumes you.

"Give it to me later." Ben's eyes flash a startling green. "I want to unwrap my favorite gift right now."

"Keep going the way you are, and you're gonna find it."

Ben hesitates, before he raises his hand to feel the end of the brand new lingerie that you'd bought special for tonight, his eyes darkening with the realization. "Well then, Merry Christmas to me."

Ben's mouth falls against yours, but before he goes further, he pulls back just for a moment, his hand coming up to gently cup your cheek. Your eyes widen in surprise.

"Ben?" You question.

"Merry Christmas Petals." He whispers, dragging his thumb over your cheek, and nudges his nose against yours in a gesture that warms your heart. He didn’t do things like that often, but whenever he did it always stood out to you, because it added on another layer to the man you loved with all your heart.

"Merry Christmas Ben."

A/N: I thought that they deserved a little Christmas fluff. I'm hoping that I have time to drop a follow up to this before Christmas, because I kinda want to write what happens when they go back to Illinois, but we'll see what happens! ❤️

As always thank you so much for reading! Reblogs, Likes, and Comments are not required, but are always appreciated! I love hearing what y'all think 🥰

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#jensen ackles #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy x you #jensen ackles soldier boy #soldier boy #soldier boy x female reader #soldier boy fanfiction #soldier boy/ben #soldier boy fic #soldier boy fanfic #the boys fanfiction #the boys tv #the boys amazon #the boys fanfic #the boys series #christmas fluff #Soldier Boy Christmas Fluff #annie january #hughie campbell

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mrsbuckybarnes1917 · 1 month ago

Text

1. A Soldier's Christmas Wish

Masterlist > Soldier on Ice

Pairing: Bucky x reader

Summary: Bucky is feeling a little down, haunted by the ghosts of his past. He writes a letter to Santa expressing his feelings.

Word Count: 4.1k

Bucky stood sullenly outside the store, his arms crossed tightly over his chest as he leaned against the frosted glass enclosing the front of the store. There was a bright warm glow that shone on him from the ocean of twinkling Christmas lights which had been strung across the ceiling of the mall, making the shadows in the crevices of his mind seem even darker than usual. Early Christmas shoppers bustled past him, their arms laden with bags of shopping, their faces lit with laughter and the warmth of their festive surroundings.

And then there was him.

Despite sincere attempts to conceal their gaze, Bucky could feel the weight of their stares on him. The way they would cast furtive, poorly hidden glances in his direction. He didn’t miss the way parents would usher their children across to the opposite side of the walkway. A group of teenagers, clearly high, whispered loudly and pointed at his left hand, their eyes wide as if they couldn’t quite believe what they were seeing. Some people tried to act natural but skirted around him with the kind of wariness you’d expect to be reserved for a caged polar bear, only there were no bars between them.

Bucky popped the collar of his coat to hide his face, before stuffing his hands into his pockets, but it didn’t matter how hard he tried to hide, they all knew who he was… what he was. It didn’t matter that he had cut his hair or shaved his beard, the glint of vibranium always gave him away. It was almost like people could sense it, his obscure past, the stain of blood that he couldn’t quite wash away. The weight hung over him like a dark cloud. No matter how many times Bucky told himself he was different now, he wasn’t that man anymore, to them, he would always be the Winter Soldier.

Inside the store, you were still perusing the shelves, selecting various items of clothing. He would make out your silhouette through the glass as you held up items of clothing in front of you and inspected them in the mirror. Your melodic voice carried through the large doors, your sweet and lilting laugh echoed in his ears as you chatted with the sales assistant. The sound grounded him, like a lifeline that tethered him to the present.

He pushed himself off the wall, walking up and down the length of the store a couple of times to relieve the feeling of restlessness. He had only come because you had insisted.

“Come on, Bucky. You’ve been cooped up for days. We can get everyone’s Christmas gifts before everyone goes crazy. We’ll grab lunch. It’ll be fun!”

Fun, yeah right! He almost laughed out loud at the thought, but there was no humor in it. His fists curled inside his coat pockets, the thick wool stretching as his grip widened. He wasn’t angry at them, not really. They were only human… just as he had once been, before everything. Before the war, before HYDRA, before… the soldier.

“Bucky?”

Your voice cut through the cacophony in his mind, pulling him out of his brooding thoughts. He turned to see you standing in the ugliest Christmas sweater he had ever laid his eyes on, it was far too big and far too festive for his tastes. But you tilted your head and greeted him with a sheepish smile, holding out your arms, inviting his opinion.

“What do you think? Too much? Or just cozy enough?”

As he stared at you, the harsh whispers, the frightened stares, the way the world saw him, seemed to fade away. The way you looked at him, warmth in your eyes, completely unfazed by the weight he carried, he only saw you. He cleared the frog from his throat, and shrugged lightly, trying to hide the smirk that was forming on his lips.

“Looks good. You can pull off anything.”

You laughed lightly, rolling your eyes and shaking your head. “Flattery won’t get you out of carrying my bags, you know?”

The second you turned your head, he dropped his smile, the dark cloud descending back over his brow. Unfortunately, as you went back into the store, you looked back over your shoulder, catching the tightness in his expression and your smile faltered. “Hey, you okay out here?” you asked, gently.

He hesitated. The honest answer was no, but he didn’t want to weigh you down with his ghosts. So instead, he nodded. “Yeah. I’m good.”

But as you vanished into the store again, he found himself wondering if he would ever really mean it. Bucky shifted from one foot to the other, trying to ignore the stares and glances which wafted over him like cold drafts. His eyes wandered, searching for anything to distract himself, and landed on a young boy tugging at his mother’s hand a few feet away.

“Mom, I wanna see Santa!” the boy declared, his high-pitched voice carrying over the clamor of the mall shoppers.

With a weary expression, his mother crouched down in front of her son. “I'm sorry, sweetie,” she said softly, “but we can't do that right now. The line's too long, and we're running really late.”

The boy frowned, his lower lip jutting in a pronounced pout. “How will Santa know what I want if I don't tell him?” he whined.

His mother gently brushed a strand of blonde hair from his eyes and smiled. “How about we write a letter to Santa when we get home? You can tell him everything you want, and we'll make sure he gets it, okay?”

The boy's pout softened as he contemplated her words. “A letter?” he asked. “What is this? The dark ages?”

She laughed and rolled her eyes. “You write it all down on a piece of paper, and he’ll know. I’ve got some nice stationery you can use. Come on.” His mother held out her hand to him.

The boy still didn’t look convinced, but he gave a disgruntled nod and let his mother take his hand again. As they walked away, their voices faded into the background of holiday music and gregarious shoppers. Bucky watched the pair as they merged into the crowd, his heart filled with a sinking feeling that he couldn’t quite name. He huffed a small laugh under his breath… a letter to Santa. An idea so innocent and filled with hope! He had done that once… a lifetime ago. Back when he was just a kid with wide eyes, scraped knees, and fantastic dreams. He had a vague memory of sitting at the kitchen table with his little sister, Becca. Their mother would allow them both one sheet of paper each for the special occasion and they had been told to make the most of it. They would scribble furiously together, comparing gift ideas before settling on their final choices.

Dear Santa, his letters had started, I’ve been good this year. Please bring Becca a doll, and I’d really like a baseball glove. Thank you!

The memory stung far more than he expected it to. It felt like there was a shard of glass buried deep in his soul. Had there really been a time where he had believed in magic? That little boy was now long gone, buried beneath decades of blood and regret.

What would Santa say if he got a letter from him now? Dear Santa, I’ve been... trying.

He shook his head, forcing himself out of the snowballing of dark thoughts. He wasn’t that kid anymore. He wasn’t sure who he even was anymore. At the end of the day, letters to Santa were for people who still believed in miracles. The sight of you stepping out of the store, holding a small shopping bag in one hand and giving him a dramatic twirl sent a wave of warm washing over him, pulling him out of his reverie.

“Well? How does this look? Or do I have no fashion sense at all?” you teased, a playful grin tugging at your lips.

Bucky blinked before his eyes snapped up to meet your gaze. For a moment, he just stared, your beauty making the heaviness in his chest lift, ever so slightly.

“It’s fine,” he said, his voice soft as he shrugged noncommittally.

“Fine?” you asked, raising an eyebrow and smirking. “That’s high praise coming from you,” you joked.

When you got no response, you edged closer, peering at his face. “What’s wrong?”

You had that look… the one that said you knew something was wrong even though he wouldn’t say what it was.

He hesitated, looking back over his shoulder to where the mother and son had been standing not long before. “Nothing,” he muttered, stuffing his hands in his pockets again. “Just... thinking.”

“Thinking, huh?” you echoed, tilting your head slightly. “About?”

He wasn’t sure if he knew the words to explain how he felt or that they were lodged so far down his throat that you would need to perform the Heimlich maneuver to get them out. So instead of answering, he gestured toward the crowd with a small nod. “Let’s just get out of here.”

As you strolled beside him, your arm entwined with his, he couldn't help but wonder if you had somehow seen through his facade, despite your unspoken questions.

*************************

Your living room of your apartment was filled with the soft glow of fairy lights and the scent of pine from the Christmas tree you and Bucky had been decorating all evening. You had ended your shopping trip by insisting Bucky drive you to the local Christmas tree farm so you could pick out a real tree for your apartment. This had perked up his mood slightly, being outdoors and away from judging eyes. It had been a challenge sneaking the tree up to your place on the third floor, but Bucky had no problems handling the conifer, while you played lookout for the landlord.

It was the first time since your childhood you’d had a real tree, but you wanted your first Christmas with Bucky to be special. Now boxes of ornaments sat open on the floor, their contents scattered as you both carefully picked and chose which ones to hang. The hum of a Christmas playlist filled the air, cheerful and warm, even as Bucky grumbled under his breath about “having to hear Jingle Bell Rock one more time.”

“Okay, I think we’re almost done,” you said, stepping back to admire your handiwork. The tree looked beautiful. Well, as beautiful as it could be with your slightly mismatched decorations and Bucky’s deliberate placement of a gaudy silver reindeer ornament right at eye level. “Just need to add the star.”

You picked up the golden tree topper, cradling it carefully as you stepped toward the tree. But as you tried to reach up to the very top, you quickly realized one glaring problem - the tree was taller than you anticipated.

“Oh, come on,” you grumbled under your breath. You stood on your tiptoes, but to no avail.

Bucky stood behind you, you heard a deep rumble in his chest as he chuckled. “Need some help, squirt?”

“I’m not short,” you shot at him, glaring over your shoulder. “The tree’s just... tall.”

“Sure, that’s what it is,” he teased, stepping closer. Before you could stop him, he grabbed the star from your hands, holding it above his head.

“Buckyyyy,” you whined, your tone filled with exasperation.

“What?” he asked, his lips twitching into a smirk. “I’m just trying to help.”

“No, you’re just being mean!” You jumped up, trying to grab it, but he just raised his arm higher, the star glinting teasingly in the light.

“Hey, you’re the one who insisted on a big tree,” he said, looking entirely too pleased with himself.

“Bucky!” You glaring up at him.

“Alright, alright,” he finally relented, though the smirk never left his face. He lowered his arm so you could take back the star. But instead of stepping back, he came even closer, both his hands coming to rest around your waist. “Here,” he said, his voice softening.

Before you could ask what he was doing, he was lifting you up, his strength making the act seem effortless.

“Go on,” he said, tilting his head toward the tree.

You froze for a moment, caught off guard by how close you suddenly were to him, the strength of his hands steadying you. You shook your head a fraction, shaking off the surprise so you could focus on the task at hand. Reaching out, you carefully placed the star at the top of the tree, adjusting it until it sat perfectly.

“There,” you said, smiling as you admired it. “Perfect.”

Bucky set you down on the floor gently, his fingertips lingering at your waist, slipping under your shirt for the briefest moment, before he stepped away. “Looks good,” he said, his voice quieter now as he admired your handiwork.

You looked up at him, catching the faintest hint of a smile on his face as he looked at the tree. The lines on his face didn’t seem as deep as they had been, as though the Christmas spirit had crept in to share the burden he carried. There was a softness in his expression that you hadn’t seen all day.

“Thanks for the help,” you said, nudging him lightly with your elbow.

“Anytime,” he replied, his gaze lingering on you for just a beat longer before he looked back at the tree.

*************************

The apartment was quiet, the kind of peaceful silence that only came late at night when the world outside was asleep and the falling snow absorbed the sounds of far away traffic. The faint glow of the Christmas tree lights spilled into the bedroom through a crack in the door, painting soft shadows on the walls. In the bedroom, you were fast asleep, your breathing steady as you curled into Bucky’s side. Normally having you beside him was enough to calm the storm that raged in his mind every night, plaguing his dreams. Your presence anchoring him to the present and pulling him out of the void that threatened to consume him.

Not tonight.

The darkness crept in like an old adversary, slipping through the cracks in his carefully constructed castle. It wove itself around him, heavy and suffocating, dragging him down into those memories that he desperately wished to forget. He could see the faces of the people he’d hurt, clear as day they flashed through his mind — all the faces, all those lives. He could still hear their screams, still smell the blood, still feel the weight of the weapon in his hands.

Bucky sighed, rolling away from you, slowly as not to wake you. He sat up, running a hand through his hair. The room felt small, too small as the shadows pressed in from all sides despite the glow coming from the living room and the streetlights in the window. He tried to focus on the good things in his life, on you, on Sam. He envisioned the way you smiled at him in the mall, the way you laughed when he teased you about the tree, the way you’d kissed him goodnight and whispered, “I love you.”

But tonight, for some unknown reason, even your light wasn’t enough to chase away the shadows. He stared out of the window, his eyes trying to make out the outline of the windows in the building across the street. They were black, of course, everyone would be asleep. You had stopped closing the curtains because you knew how overwhelming he found the darkness. He clenched his fists, his jaw tightening as he fought against the darkness of the night. And then, out of nowhere, the image of the little boy from the mall popped into his mind. The boy’s hopeful face as he asked his mother how Santa would know what he wanted.

The idea of writing a letter to Santa was absurd. The idea of a grown man, sitting down to write a letter to a mythical figure, now that was laughable. But for some reason the idea was stuck, like a stubborn flame refusing to be snuffed out.

It was probably ridiculous, but wasn’t his entire life lately built on impossible second chances? Maybe... maybe writing it down could help. Not to Santa, exactly… he wasn’t naive enough to think some Christmas miracle could erase everything he’d done. But possibly a confession… maybe the first step was to admit to his crimes. A way to unburden himself of the weight he carried, even if no one else would ever read it.

Would it hurt? No. Could it help? Maybe…

Moving carefully, he slipped out of bed, silently pulling on a hoodie to ward off the draft. He grabbed the journal he kept in the dresser on his side of the bed. The first few volumes contained notes he had jotted down before the Wakandans had removed HYDRA’s programming from his mind. The last two held memories of life after his pardon. Before Steve had left, he had handed Bucky a journal and Bucky had used it, scribbling down his thoughts and memories, his feelings and worries. For his birthday that year, you had gifted him another and he was already half way through it.

He sank into the armchair in the corner of the room by the windows, pulling the blanket you kept on the arm rest over his legs before resting the notebook on his lap. For a moment, he just stared at the blank page, the pen poised in his hand.

Then, slowly, he began to write.

Dear Santa,

I don’t know why I’m even writing this. I’m not sure I even believe you’re out there. Even if you were, I’m not sure you’re listening to people like me… murderers. Maybe this is stupid, but I saw this kid at the mall today, and he was so sure that you would hear him. I remember that there was a time that I believed too.

So I guess that’s why I’m here, writing to someone who probably doesn’t exist… asking for something I don’t deserve.

I’m not sure what I’m supposed to say. I’ve been a good boy? That would be a lie now, wouldn’t it? I’ve been trying though, you can see that right? And I hoped that would count for something at least, right? Maybe not. Maybe it doesn’t do anything to erase all the things I’ve done.

I was something else for so long. Something awful. A weapon they aimed and fired. I did those things, Santa. They weren’t just mistakes or bad decisions. They were unspeakable things. My dreams won’t let me forget, their blood on my hands, their screams, their faces. They haunt me every night. Everyone keeps telling me I wasn’t in control, that someone else was pulling the strings. But does it matter? It was still me. It was always me.

Do you believe in forgiveness, Santa? Some things just feel too big to forgive. But I want to… to believe that I’m more than those things… more than the worst things that I’ve done. Maybe there’s a way to make up for some of it, even just a little?

So I guess this is what I’m asking for. No gift, no miracle, just a chance. A chance to keep trying. A chance to figure out if I can be someone good, someone who doesn’t hurt people anymore. I’m not asking you to take away my past. I know that’s not how this works. I just want to stop feeling like the weight of everything crushing me every time I close my eyes.

Maybe it is too late for me. I don’t know. But if there’s even the smallest bit of hope left, I’m asking for it. Not just for me… but for the people I care about. They deserve better than the broken thing I am.

I want to believe in something again. In people, in hope, in myself. If you’re out there, if you can hear this... that’s all I want. Please.

Yours,

Bucky

His hand holding the pen hovered above the page where he had just signed his name. Bucky stared at the words, the letters blurring as his eyes burned with unshed tears. He let out a shaky breath and closed the journal, setting it aside. And for the first time in what felt like years, the darkness didn’t seem so suffocating. It was still there, lingering at the edges, but the act of putting his thoughts into words had lit a beacon, albeit only a small one.

Bucky slipped back into bed beside you, pulling you into his arms. Instinctively you nestled closer to him, murmuring something in your sleep. He let himself smile, believing just for a moment, that maybe his wish wasn’t entirely impossible.

*************************

The first rays of dawn flooded through the window, casting a soft golden glow over the bedroom. You stirred, blinking sleepily as you felt the warmth of Bucky’s arm draped over your waist, his face buried in the pillow beside yours. His breathing was deep and steady, but there was a tension in his posture, even in sleep you could see a tightness in his brow, the faint lines of worry etched into his face.

You could tell he’d had a rough night. Carefully, you wriggled out of his grasp, pausing when he stirred slightly. You froze as he took a deep breath before settling again. You tucked the blanket around him, pressing a soft kiss to his temple before slipping out of bed. Pulling on your dressing gown, you padded out of the bedroom, your fluffy slippers muffling your steps. The apartment was quiet, save for the hum of the hot water running through the pipes. You decided to let Bucky sleep a little longer. He needed it. Maybe you’d make him pancakes and that chicory coffee he liked so much. Sam had introduced him to it the last time you’d visited his family in Louisiana.

You wandered into the living room, reaching for the plug at the base of the Christmas tree to turn off the lights. As you crouched down, something caught your eye: Bucky’s notebook, lying open on the floor next to the armchair. Normally, he was meticulous about putting his notebooks away, tucking them into the bedside drawer you kept empty for him. But this one had been left out, open on the last page he had written on with the pen nestled between the sheets he had been writing on.

You hesitated. You never invaded Bucky’s privacy, it was a line you’d promised yourself you wouldn’t cross. But the notebook was open, and your gaze caught on the words scrawled across the page in his familiar, slightly jagged handwriting.

“Dear Santa…”

Curiosity tugged at you, and before you could stop yourself, you reached for the notebook, lifting it reverently. You settled back into the armchair, the early morning sun illuminating the page as you began to read. As your eyes raked over the page, your heart ached. Every word was like a window into the parts of Bucky he tried so hard to keep hidden from you; the guilt he carried, the longing for redemption, the fragile hope that maybe, just maybe, he could find a way to believe in something good again.

His words were raw, a confession that felt like it had been ripped straight from his soul. He hadn’t written to ask for presents or material things. He’d written to ask for forgiveness. For a chance to keep trying. For hope. You blinked rapidly, your chest tightening as tears pricked at the corners of your eyes. You knew Bucky struggled with his past, he’d opened up to you about some of it, though never in such detail. But seeing it laid bare like this, seeing how deeply he felt the weight of his actions, broke your heart.

You closed the notebook gently, running your fingers over the worn cover as you sat in silence for a moment. What could you do? How could you help him see that he was already so much more than the sum of his past?

An idea began to form in your mind.

You glanced toward the bedroom, where Bucky was still sleeping, and set the notebook aside. If there was ever a time to show him that miracles (big or small) were possible, it was now.

You rose from the armchair, wiping at your eyes as you headed to the kitchen. Pancakes and coffee were just the beginning of your plan.

Masterlist > Soldier in Ice

@lives-in-midgard @baw1066

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fan fiction #a soldier's second chance

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malum-forev · 2 years ago

Note

If you still have Receiving/ giving a gift available, could you please write about Avenger Bucky receiving a gift from reader, for Christmas or his birthday? But he totally doesn’t expect it and gets all emotional cause he hasn’t received a gift in decades and doesn’t know what to do with the whole thing.

Yes yes yeeesss this is such a great ideaaa <3

“This is stupid.” Bucky grumbled.

“What’s stupid is that you waited until December 24th to buy your Secret Santa a gift!” Sam said, dodging the thousands of people roaming the streets of New York.

“I didn’t think the gift exchange would actually amount to anything.” Bucky groaned. “I thought we would be sent away on a mission!”

“I don’t care what your excuse for procrastination is! I just want you to buy your Secret Santa something.”

“How the hell am I supposed to know what-“

Sam covered his ears. “La, la, la, la. I’m not listening, don’t want any spoilers.”

“I want to be put back in the cryostasis chamber.” Bucky sighed dramatically.

Bucky stretched the neck of the uncomfortable wool sweater someone on the team had forced them to wear. The itchy fabric made his skin red. Whoever started the ugly sweater tradition should be sentenced to life in jail. Bucky thought.

“Will you stop acting like a toddler, we’re supposed to be the adults here.” Sam spoke from the edge of his mouth to not attract any more attention.

“I’m not acting like a child, I’m acting like a senile old man. This is the appropriate way for me to act seeing as I’m over a hundred years old.” Bucky crossed his arms over his chest, immediately regretting the action as he pressed the disgusting fabric against his chest.

“Okay! Bucky’s turn!” Sam yelled, not wanting to bare another second of his friend’s complaining, pushing Bucky to the middle of the circle. All of the agents’ eyes were on him.

Bucky never really celebrated Christmas, back in the 40’s it was common for families to celebrate it but ever since he got out of the ice he- well let’s just say The Winter Soldier didn’t really have time for holiday shopping.

“I got-“ Bucky cleared his throat nervously. “Ryan as my Secret Santa so, here’s a knife.”

The room got eerily silent as they all watched Bucky take out an unpackaged knife from one of his pockets.

Sam facepalmed himself.

“Thanks Sarge.” Ryan awkwardly smiled.

“I sharpened that myself.” Bucky said proudly.

“Let’s move on!” Sam said, this was more painful than he’d ever imagined. “Who got the cyborg as Secret Santa?”

Again, silence met everyone. The agents looked at each other but no one stepped up.

“It’s fine,” Bucky forced a small smile. “I withdrew my name from the bowl. I didn’t need anything.”

Scattered chatter was whispered before they continued with the gifts.

Bucky looked down at his watch an hour later, how much longer would he have to put up with this?

The double doors opened loudly and in you came. You quickly said your hello’s to a couple of your friends and walked straight towards Bucky. With a big smile on your face and a small bag in your hand.

Bucky gulped as you approached him.

“Merry Christmas Sarge.” You beamed, his brain was trying to process your words. Bucky felt like he’d never heard someone call him that, and no one should ever try to top it because it would never compare to how the word Sarge sounded coming out of your lips.

“Me-Merry Christmas.” Bucky stuttered.

“I’m your Secret Santa.” His eyes widened but it seemed like his reaction only made you happier. “I saw you pulling your name out when everyone left so, I decided to pick it up for myself. I hope you like your gift.”

You were truly the human form of sunshine. He thought.

“C’mon, open it. I need to know if you liked it.” You pushed the bag closer to him.

Bucky took it by the handles and peeked inside. It was a book.

He saw how you nervously fidgeted.

“When I got recruited, I researched about you- well both of you, Sam and yourself. God this is embarrassing.” You fumbled with your words. “Anyways, I read that your favorite book was The Hobbit so, I tracked down a first edition copy since well, it’s been edited since it came out and I thought it would be nice for you to have something from back when you first were alive- not alive because well- Oh god, it was stupid right? Giving you a book? You probably don’t even have time to read-“

Bucky cut you off by wrapping his strong arms against your frame.

“This is the most amazing gift I’ve ever received.” He mumbled against your hair. “Thank you.”

“Welcome.” You squeaked.

“This is incredible.” Bucky whispered, not knowing if he could get any other words out without his voice cracking. No one had ever done something as special as this for him.

“You made Barnes smile!” Sam laughed, patting Bucky on the back. “You should get a medal for things like that.”

This one's short and sweet! Hope you like it!

Hi hiiii This is part of my 1k Celebration, if you like this please be sure to look at the Bingo Card and ask for a prompt! Love y'all <;33

And you can find the Bingo master list and what prompts are still available here!

*Any gifs posted are not my own and I give the artist full credit.

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scar-lie · 1 year ago

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Their First Love [Natasha]

Summary : What happens when someone come back to get what's them.

Pairing : Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader, Natasha Romsnoff x Bucky Barnes

Warning : None, I guess

Word Count : 2,642

A/N : Hi everyone so sorry that I didn't post the chap 9 of Omega and the crossover oneshot, my school ends right before Christmas eve, then my Mom got admited to the hospital and well next is new year so it's kinda busy, sorry again but this oneshot is in my draft for over a month or week now so this is my sorry token for you all

HAPPY NEW YEAR EVERYONE 🥳🎉

{THEIR FIRST LOVE PT. 2}

No one has permission to repost my work anywhere, if you see it please let me know.

You sigh, getting off the elevator in the compound to visit Natasha. You two have been friends for over two years now. You two met in the coffee shop nearby your company building. She sat at your table with your permission because, at that time, the shop didn’t have any vacant seats left. Since then, you two have hit it off and become friends. After a year, you started to date, and you courted her until today.

But once you get off the elevator and pass the two doors that lead into a common room of the Avengers quarters, you frown at seeing everyone gather around and see Natasha clinging to a guy.

“What’s happening? "You question walking forward; everybody looks at you.

“Oh, Bucky, the winter soldier, Steve’s pal back in the days, and the Bucky I’ve been talking about—uhm, he's back and sided with us,” Natasha explains, giving you a hug and a kiss on your cheek.

“Hi, Y/N, nice to meet you.” You offer him a hand, but he just looks at it without emotion, so you take your hand back.

"Ok,” you mumble, and sit down on the couch and just look at them, especially Nat and Steve, who have pampered this new guy with questions and appreciation that he’s here now.

You just let them have fun and enjoy their time. You understand why, especially Steve and Nat. I mean, that’s Steve's pal or brother, and that’s Natasha’s first love, the love she found in the red room and KGB, where torture and killing grow, where she trains to be a black widow. But you’re not going to hide the fact that you’re jealous and scared that what you and Nat have will end soon.

You let it slide the first few weeks, where Natasha was constantly clinging to Bucky and having quality time, and set you aside, but when the 5th week struck, you confronted her, where she just got home from a 2-day mission with Bucky, Tony, and Sam.

She’s tired and exhausted. Their mission goes south, which comprises a lot of people's lives, and all she wanted to do was go home, get the dirt and blood off of her body, and hope the frustration and self-blame will go down the drain too with the rest of the dirt, and sleep the night off.

But that’s not what’s waiting for her; instead, you’re in her bed, sitting and looking at the wall in front of you. When Natasha enters her room, she sighs and comes to kiss your forehead, then goes off to go to the bathroom.

“Be honest with me, Natasha... Are we still dating, or will you and Bucky go back together? "You asked before she could close the door, not looking at her form, which was frozen in her spot.

Natasha frowns, slowly turning back at you with a confused look. She doesn’t know how to answer it, and she herself doesn’t know either. All she knows is that Bucky is here; she wants to spend time with him, but at the same time, she’s building a relationship with another person, which is you. She just sighs, trying to look into your eyes, but you keep your eyes straight.

“I-uhmm….I don’t know…I-” You didn’t let her finish her sentence; you already heard enough, so you stood up, took your bag on the sofa, and headed out to her front door. Natasha quickly followed you.

“Call me if you already have an answer,” you mumbled enough for her to hear, but Natasha never let you get out that easily.

"Hey, hey, hey! No, you’re not going to walk out on me; we’re going to talk this out like a mature adult.” She pulls you inside and closes the door of her room.

“Ok, I admit that I spend more time with Bucky and that I’m putting you aside, but that doesn’t mean that I will end things between us.” She started searching for your eyes to look back at her too.

“And there’s a "but" coming, right? "You look at her; you already know how this is going. Well, you should have known better.

“But I don’t know, I... I still yearn for him... I don’t know, ok, please understand,” she whispered, and you just nodded. You can’t do anything about it, though. I mean, you two don’t put a label on who you both are, so she’s still free to choose him over you.

"Ok.” That’s all you said, and you walked past her.

“That’s all you’re going to say? "You sigh again and turn around, giving her a small, tight smile.

"Yeah, what do you want me to say? Do you want me to be angry or what? I mean, we’re not together, Nat; we’re just dating. I’m your suitor, Nat, so I don’t have the right to be angry or tell you to distance yourself from your first love, so yeah, that’s all I have to say.” With that, you leave her room and go back to your house as soon as possible to sleep it off and get ready for your endless meeting tomorrow, but God has other plans because you met Bucky on the way.

“Hi…..Y/N right? "Bucky, stop you before you can leave the two doors in the lounge where he sat, with snacks in his hand and a coffee table, so you stop and turn around to look at him tiredly.

“Yeah, that’s me. Why? "You sigh when he stands up and stands in front of you, trying to intimidate you, but honestly, if you’re not tired and don’t give a fuck, you’re probably intimidating him too.

“I don’t appreciate you getting close to Natasha, so could you please distance yourself? "I scuff at him, standing straight, grasping my handbag in front of me with my two hands.

“Maybe I should be the one telling you that, because before you come along, we’re dating,” you calmly said, giving him a tight smile.

“Well, are you two together? "He challenges you, and you clench your jaw, looking up at him.

"No.” You didn’t back down, and he smirked, satisfied at your answer.

“I suggest you start moving on, because I’m courting her.” He gives you a sly look and pats your shoulder, then leaves.

You clench your jaw and give him a dirty finger, leaving the building with irritation and annoyance, and go straight home to wash away all the stress and tiredness in your body since this morning, when your day started to go south.

You didn’t bother to go to the compound for a week now because of a hectic workload, meetings here and there, and some dumbass who can’t do their jobs properly. Even though you missed Natasha and wanted her hugs and cuddles, you couldn’t visit her, so you just kept gifting Natasha food or flowers and texting her, but most of the time she ignored you, and you just rolled your eyes at that, thinking they were probably having their time together, so today you’re going to visit her.

But once you get to the compounds quarter, your mood quickly drops seeing Natasha leaning toward Bucky while watching some movies, but you put your jealousy and irritation aside and great her.

"Hey, Nat,” you say. She looks at you and quickly stands up and greets you with a hug and a kiss in the check that makes Bucky look at you dirty.

“Hi, how are you? You haven’t been here for a week now.” You give her a smile and show her the Chinese takeout you brought.

“Just busy in the office, that's all. Are you hungry? "You asked, taking her hand to drag her into the kitchen to eat.

"Sorry, but she’s full; we just got home to eat lunch.” He smirked at you, and you gave him a glare while he stood up and took Natasha off of you.

“So if you wouldn’t mind, we’re watching a movie," he says, then guides her back to the couch while Natasha just looks back at you, looking for your reassurance, but you keep neutral, which makes Natasha worried.

"Uhm, wait, Buck, actually, I’m-” Before she can get out of Bucky's grasp, you walk straight back to the kitchen, putting down the paper bag, and go back to leave the building.

“In case you..." you point to them with a tight smile.

“Get hungry or just give it to someone who wants it; I’ll be heading out now.” Then you leave with a sigh; you’re losing hope; well, he’s her first love; you can’t fight with that; that’s her greatest love; and now the only option you have is to accept it, because sooner or later, you’re expecting Natasha to talk to you and end things between you two.

And you’re not wrong, because the next time you visited, you saw them together in the gym, sparing, well, more intimately; they kissed passionately, savoring their time together, and that broke your heart completely into pieces.

And you don’t have the heart to ruin it for her, so you just give yourself a smile, nod, and turn back, going to her room to get some of your stuff you left there, and well, wait for her there to have a talk. You know she’s not going to say it to you right away, so you’ll confront her.

Once Natasha entered the room with a big smile on her face and a tint of red in her check, saying goodbye to Bucky, you didn’t look up at her; you just looked at her waist until you heard her gasp, shocked to see you sitting on the edge of her bed.

"Y/N," she mumbles, not moving a single inch in her spot until she clears her throat, having the courage to tell you something.

“Glad to see you here, cause I need to talk to you too,” she carefully said, reading your dementor, but she failed, so she just gulped the lump on her throat and just blurted out.

“I need to end things between us because I know it’s not fair to you if I keep this hidden, but... I'm getting back with Bucky.” Her heart beat faster. Looking at you, you scuffed and nodded. At least she had the courage to tell you.

Natasha quickly became tense and gasped when she saw a few bags already packed. You looked up at her with a neutral dementor, the one you always wore before you met Natasha, and this made Natasha feel uneasy.

"Well, I guess it is my cue to leave now, since you already dropped the elephant in the room.” You stand up, taking your bag, and walk past her.

“I’m sorry,” she shouts, running to you. She feels guilty and hurt, even wanting you to look back at the eyes that she’s been searching for.

“Don’t be; you don’t owe me an apology or explanation…..and so do I, when I'll make no exception to anyone, including you, and when you don't have the same privilege you had before.” This makes Natasha’s eyes go wide; she knows how you are around in your company; you’re cold, strict, and scary.

“Excuse me, Miss. Romanoff, I still have a company that needs someone to run with.” With that, you leave the building and sulk yourself to work, declining every call and knocking on the door, letting your assistant be the only one who can come and go in your office, and rescheduling all your meetings for a week.

If you will move on, Natasha is no exception. You need to distance yourself from her and treat her like everyone else around you, even though she’s still your friend.

This doesn’t settle Natasha very well; sure, she’s happy that she’s with her first love that the KGB ripped out of her, but the unsettling feeling deep in her bothers her.

Sure, she’s happy going on dates, cuddling, spending time together, and having sex with Bucky, but it still feels wrong to her. It feels wrong deep inside her, and she tries to set it aside, but the feeling keeps building and building up, like she’s going to explode one day.

"Hey, are you ok? "Bucky asked her with concern. He just got out of the bathroom with a towel around his waist, while Natahsa just lay down in the bed, lost in her thoughts, and only the covers were covering her naked body while the morning sun started to rise.

"Yeah, yeah, I’m ok, just thinking.” Natasha looked at Bucky with a smile, so Bucky quickly lay beside her and buried his face in her neck.

“You’re thinking about her, do you? "Bucky whispers, looking up at her while she scuffs and shakes her head.

“What are you talking about, and who’s “her” you’re referring to? "Natasha, just look at him for a few seconds and go look somewhere else.

“You know what I’m talking about; I can feel it, Nat. You want her; you’re looking for her even though you keep saying to yourself that you’re okay." Natasha didn’t answer right away, thinking carefully.

"No, you're wrong,” Natasha just said and stood up, taking the cover with her.

“I already have what I want,” she said, trying to convince Bucky, but the truth is, she’s trying to convince herself more than Bucky.

Bucky didn’t argue with her; he knows Natasha is a stubborn one. Sure, he doesn’t know her very well now; things change, and he doesn’t want to push it.

But Natasha thought of it all day, and Bucky observed her the whole time, accepting that sooner or later Natasha would need to talk to him.

That day, Natasha went out to walk, think, and clear her head, letting her feet take her wherever they took her. That said, now she’s standing in the cafe shop where she first saw you, your memories of her flash in her mind, missing how you smiled and how soft you were to her, how you looked intimidating the first time you two met.

Then Natasha went to your favorite flower shop, where she most likely saw you before you courted her, buying different flowers every 3 times a week or maybe 4, then she visited the fast food chain you always whined to go to because you loved their onion rings and twisted fries there, then she went to your favorite burger food chain until she went around the town buying things that you always whined about.

Until she’s standing in front of your company building, frozen in her spot while looking up to the high tower where you are probably in and on one of the floors at the top, this makes her heartache, and she misses going here ever so often to visit you and spend time with you.

She sighs and decides to go in. Reasons? to give you the stuff she bought from different stores around the town, and she hopes that you will let her in or meet her.

But once she got inside, the receptionist wouldn't let her in with the reason—Ms. Y/L/N is busy and doesn’t want any visitors—she closed her eyes, cursing to herself, knowing she couldn't just walk past security or make her way around to get to you. She knows you already hate her, and doing the dirty job to get to you will fuel you more.

Natasha started to walk back, but not until someone screamed your name. That’s when she turned around and saw you, looking beautifully in your sexy business suit that shows all your assets with three bodyguards, and let the woman in your right arm. This broke Natasha, especially seeing who the woman is—it's the woman you talked about to her, your first love.

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lunaroserites · 9 days ago

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Christmas Morning

Paring: Established Bucky X Fem!Reader (Sugar)

Summery: Just a snippet Sugar and Bucky. Part of the Sugar AU. Christmas morning with Bucky and Sugar before they head off to celebrate with her family. (They're dragging Steve along)

Warnings: Christmas/Holiday time, implied smut, fluff, no use of Y/N, Not beta'd all mistakes are my own

Word Count: ~900

Likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated! <3

Catch up with Bucky and Sugar: Read Too Sweet here and Does Heaven Even Know You’re Missing here

Part One of the Christmas Saga here

Tags: @hisredheadedgoddess28

Divider created by @tsunami-of-tears

(How Christmas Morning started btw)

One thing you’ve learned in the time you’ve been with Bucky, ex winter soldier, current avenger was how practical he was, it bordered minimalistic sometimes. He’s told you many times that you're the thing that adds colour and sweetness in his life. You brought your eclectic style and bright aesthetic into his day to day life and he finds himself enjoying it more and more.

One of the other things you learned after you fully moved in and brought all your things over to the apartment, was his love for fantasy and sci-fi, in any type of media, whether it be books, movies, or video games because you owned a lot of fantasy and sci-fi media. But his favourite of all time was The Hobbit and Lord of the Rings. You’ve watched the movies dozens of times and he would lovingly tell you about the inaccuracies, the Hobbit getting more gripe than Lord of the Rings.

So with that knowledge tucked away deep in your brain closet you had one goal this year for Christmas, finding a first edition of those series and giving them to Bucky. That is why you found yourself at an old antique shop in Manhattan while Bucky was being distracted by Steve and Sam. The owner was a sweet older British man that you found on Facebook.

Walking inside to this little shop was like being transported back in time to the 1940’s, after Christmas you would have to Bucky here, there were so many things he would tell you about. “Well hello there,” the man behind the counter said, smiling at you. “You’re the girl from Facebook, looking for the Hobbit,” you nodded and his smile got brighter as he patted the stack of books next to him. You walked toward the counter and looked at the books, they were in immaculate condition, like they weren’t something just dumped off here by someone clearing out their grandparents home like you had made yourself believe.

“They were mine,” the gentleman said to you, you looked at him and opened your mouth to protest. “I have no children, and I’m up in age, no one in my life will want these, you enjoy them,” he murmured. You closed your mouth and smiled sadly at the stack of books before nodding. He rang you up and you paid as he packed the book into a bag that would keep them safe.

“Thank you sir, my boyfriend, he’s..” you stopped and couldn’t help but smile, “old at heart and loves these series,” you chuckled as you walked away and made your way back to yours and Bucky’s apartment.

There were a few beautifully wrapped presents under the artificial tree you and Bucky decorated, and a very cute Alpine sleeping next to them. Bucky insisted you get him nothing, that you were all he needed and wanted. You waved him off when you had placed the gifts to him under the tree the night before, before he pulled you into his arms and dragged you to bed for your first of many Christmas gifts.

You brought over a mug of black coffee to him and handed it to him, he laid it down on the floor next to the small pile of gifts. Alpine's tail dipped into the cup and licked it off her tail, you giggled as you sat down on the floor next to him, he tsked and pulled you into his lap, he pressed a kiss to the back of your neck and hummed softly. “Alright Sugar, let’s see what we have here,” he murmured softly into your ear.

You handed him one of the few things you got him, one being a new watch because his old one was getting ratty, and a bottle of cologne since his was getting low and a key chain with the picture of you two on it. Practical things he would use regularly.

He got you a new charm for your pandora bracelet, a bottle of the perfume you wore regularly and a new pair of thigh high socks you liked to wear. You kissed his cheek, thanking him for the thoughtful gifts and he returned the kiss by planting one on your lips. “There's one more,” you said softly, standing up and going to your closet and pulling it out, opting to leave them in the bag the older man packed them in. You returned and sat down in Bucky’s lap again, his arms wound around your waist and looked over your shoulder, peering curiously at the bag.

“Sugar,” he started.

“Just open it,” you cut him off, leaning back against him. He opened it slowly, pulling the first book out, and you felt his breath catch as he looked at it, he flicked the book open, his breath out right stopping as he read the information page.

“Sugar, you never cease to amaze me,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to your temple and looking through the other books. Once he finished he put the bag under the tree and lifted you easily so you were facing him in his lap. His eyes were a little glassy as he looked into yours, he cupped your face and leaned forward to kiss you deeply. He then maneuvered you forward and your back hit the floor, comforted by the plush rug under you, and he crawled over your body showing you just how much he appreciated your gift.

Please let me know if you want more, have questions or thoughts about Sugar and Bucky. Let me know If you want to hear about the trip to visit family, and dragging Steve along.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky imagine #bucky x you #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x you #grumpy x sunshine #bucky barnes x sugar #sugar!au #christmas

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fictophilianworld · 1 month ago

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Bucky Barnes Headcanons that make me happy :) (part 1)

I have this stupid notebook where I jot down stupid little headcanons whenever and wherever so yeah I think I’ll start posting them here too

When he first lost his arm, he just couldn’t get used to the emptiness. You know how in tfatws he discovers that his arm could be pulled off? I think that was like a safety measure for when they couldn’t control him/ the winter soldier inside him decides to pop out. And I think that they had a somewhat similar measure back when he was locked up in Siberia. Whenever they took his arm away his mind would just short-circuit. He’d reach up to scratch his face, or grab something— and he’d fail, and look down wildly at his arm only to see a stump.

This is why even after becoming free from HYDRA, he’d wake up gasping at night sometimes, frantically grabbing it to make sure there’s something there, not just cold empty air.

Speaking of the metal arm, he’d first have absolutely NO control over that thing. I’m talking about accidentally breaking things because he held on too tight, injuring people who annoyed/hurt him because he meant to swat their hands away but ends up crushing/pulverizing bones. He’d be so afraid of losing control around people he love— that’s why he’s also so alert, on guard, and wary. He’s scared that he might hurt or scare people.

Secretly really likes holidays like Thanksgiving/Christmas

He didn’t have the luxury to celebrate during wartime/ Winter soldier-HYDRA days, and he first felt so awkward and out of place at first

But now he secretly loves all the good food/sense of family and kinship during the hols

Will spend hours picking out gifts/wrapping them

People LOVE his gifts because they’re so thoughtful/ just what they need or want or like

He actually spends days observing people silently (staring problem activated) during the time leading up to the actual holiday to figure out what he should give them

Bucky + Steve have the best wrapping skills because of their time in the army + that particular 40s mindset

#bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #the winter soldier #catws #winter soldier #tfatws #marvel mcu #marvel cinematic universe #marvel #steve rogers #the avengers

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mrsparrasblog · 8 months ago

Text

Speak now

You and Simon were an unusual pair, at least that's what everyone said about you. You remember how Gaz and Soap laughed for an hour straight when you told them the news that you and Simon were together. You saved people, he killed people; that’s what people saw.

But you saw something different in Simon. He wasn’t tough or aggressive or anything that people told you around the base. In fact, you never had a boyfriend who was so gentle towards you, always afraid to hurt you by accident.

His fear was what finally broke you apart all those years ago. He was afraid to hurt you, to corrupt you with his sins, or even worse, to get you killed like everyone else who cared about him. It was just over.

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

Three years later...

The day finally came: your wedding day, the day you waited more than a decade for. You remembered how you always planned your wedding since you were four. Over the years, the planning became only more intense. You wanted a big wedding cake, peonies everywhere, and no roses in sight; that was too ordinary for you. A dress that embraced your body type instead of hiding it, and definitely a winter wedding since you hated summer; too hot for a wedding, imagine getting sunburned on your wedding day? Terrible.

Your ex-boyfriend Simon always laughed about it, telling you this was the most incredibly dumb thought when it came to a wedding. But he promised you if you tied the knot, you’d get a winter wedding, maybe even a few days before Christmas with a hot chocolate bar, a Christmas tree with signed ornaments from every guest, and a honeymoon in NYC to see Christmas and New Year's Eve there.

So, how did you end up here? It was July, 32 degrees Celsius, and you were sweating your makeup off, which was the worst case since you hid your sunburn under it. Simon would laugh at the irony; of course he would. Then he would tell you some stupid dad joke about sunburns, and you would roll your eyes at him, trying to hide your laughter because it was too embarrassing to admit that you loved every one of his jokes.

But you were here in the church right now, and Simon was only a guest, not your groom, and it was better this way. Simon wasn’t ready to settle down with you; he didn't want kids and everything you wanted, and he was always afraid of committing to you. You just never knew why.

A few months after your breakup, you met James. He was one of the lawyers working for the military and, finally a non-soldier, someone who wanted to settle down with you. He proposed only after a year, and it was magical, at least you thought so.

How didn’t you recognize the signs? How have you never gone out with Price, who was like a Dad to you since your engagement? How you stopped singing and dancing in the shower? How you lost weight only to please him, and how you were stuck in a nightmare wedding?

Well, you should cut him some slack, you thought. It wasn’t that horrible; it was only horrible for you. Other women would love the pile of roses, the tent of a dress you wore, the summer wedding; everything was fine just from a different perspective.

"This will be the happiest day of your life," you mumbled between your breaths as you looked into the mirror, finalizing the last bits of makeup.

"You look beautiful, sweetheart," John hummed, giving you an approving look. You couldn’t contain yourself from hugging him. John was only 10 years older than you, but he grew into a father figure for you. He almost cried when you asked him to walk you down the aisle.

"Thank you, John."

"If you don’t want this, say the word, and I will drive you home."

"John, I want this."

The church was filled to the brim with his and your friends, well, mostly his friends and family. Most of your friends avoided you since your engagement. At least Kyle, Soap, and John were there. You asked Simon if he’d come too; he wasn’t sure at first, but he said he'd come. You needed him there; he was your best friend after all - well, he was before you broke up.

John took your hand, and with him, you walked towards James. Everyone looked at you, and despite everything you didn’t like, you were indeed the most beautiful bride there ever was. Your bridesmaids stood at the altar in their maroon-shaded dresses, smiling towards you. James smiled at you; he didn’t cry, but that's okay; you knew he was more than happy to be here today, with you. But your eyes searched for him; was Simon there?

As everyone stood up, you noticed him, looking down at you with a faint smile. He wore a suit, something you had never seen him wear before. The fabric was stretched across his broad shoulders; the suit trousers were too short for his full height, so his ankles were visible. But despite this, he looked incredible, and without a mask, just for you - he left it at home for you. He was the only one not smiling at you - not important right now. John gave you to James, being the best actor anyone had seen; he hid his despise towards James so well.

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

"Th' bride looks absolutely bonny, dinnae ye think sae, Lt.?"

"Go fuck yourself, Johnny."

"Would dae it, bit it wid be a tad disrespectful oan a bridle," Johnny chuckled with a boyish grin while Garrick shot him a death stare, clearly annoyed by Johnny's unableness to behave.

Simon didn’t want to go to the fucking wedding, as if it wasn’t worse enough to know how much he fucked up by breaking up with you. No, he needed to watch that shit now; it was worse than all the torture he endured in his life. He would have said no; he really should have if you hadn’t looked at him with your dear eyes. How could he say no to you? He was just a man after all.

And now he was punished, watching the love of his life marry a bloody wanker. A lawyer, as if you would be happy with that suit-wearing superficial idiot. No, you always wanted and deserved a real man, someone who’d kill for you, someone like him, someone who wouldn’t mind getting dirty for you, someone who respected your wishes. Someone who knew how much you hated summer weddings, roses, and this dress.

Well, you still looked like the most beautiful woman on earth, he thought, but he couldn’t shake the thoughts away that this was not like you; this wasn’t you. That's not what he could give you if he hadn’t been such a bloody coward.

He looked at you and tried to smile; that's the least he could do after giving you up. "Dear friends, and family, we are gathered here today to celebrate the love between the two of them. If you are willing to support the love between the two, then please answer, 'Yes, we will.'"

"Yes, we will," was chanted from the various people at the church, just not from him and Price, who looked more stern than usual.

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

(Three years ago...)

"Why do you think this is romantic? She left a poor bloke at the altar," Simon looked at you confused at your choice of movie for Netflix and chill.

"If you know, you know, Simon. Just thinking, if you love someone so much, you can be egotistical, you know."

"You’re weird, love," he chuckled while pulling you closer into his embrace.

"If I ever marry, I want a winter wedding with Christmas trees and hot cocoa and snow, lots of snow."

"You'll freeze to death in the dress, love."

"At least no sunburn."

"I've been taking Viagra for my sunburn. It doesn’t cure it, but it keeps the sheets off my legs."

"You're not funny, Simon Riley."

This is not right; everything feels wrong about this for him. And when he looked at you, noticing your eyes were focused on him instead of James, the doubt was gone. He stood up, ignoring the glances from everyone in the room; only you were important now. Who cares if he fucks up, as long as he has you back?

"I love you. I know I'm a fucking bastard for not telling you this ages ago, but I always loved you since the day you bloody screamed at me in the hospital. I love your craziness, your messy hair in the morning, and how you always sing in the shower even if you can't fucking sing. I love you, and I know this isn’t your thing; everything comes with me. Let me be the man you deserve."

Silence. Everyone in the room was torn between anger, silence, and somehow happiness. You knew what you were about to do was the most selfish thing in your life. You gave James an apologetic glance, and much to Simon's surprise, you ran towards him, or more of waddled, which made the whole situation awkward; you really should have trained to walk in your wedding heels. Of course, he scooped you up, running with you out of the church like a madman, putting you in the front seat of his trashy SUV.

"I didn't think you’d agree."

"Me neither."

"I'm glad you did."

"So what now, Simon?"

"Marry me, love; make an honest man out of me. I'll give you everything you want: kids, a corgi, even though shepherds are superior, and I'll build a damn house for you with a bloody wrap-around porch, everything for you, just be Mrs. Riley."

You couldn’t contain your happiness anymore, so you wrapped your hands around his neck and pulled him into a deep kiss. "Yes, yes, Yes."

"I love you."

"I love you too, always."

#cod #cod mw2 #cod mwii #cod x reader #call of duty #tf 141 #simon ghost riley #ghost call of duty #ghost #ghost cod #ghost x you #ghost x reader #ghost x y/n #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon riley #simon my beloved

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thebiggerbear · 9 days ago

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FANFICTION FRIDAYS

This week I moved the # from 40 to 56.

Here are my picks for Dec 27th 2024, please go give them a read:

The Exit Strategy by @waynes-multiverse - Russell is ready to hang it all up and retire, open up a brewery, and enjoy the rest of his civilian life. However, there’s one important thing missing before he can take the big plunge. Luckily, he knows just the right person to help him find it. (Russell Shaw x Reader, Tracker) Wake Up Call by @dixons-sunshine - Mornings had never been Steve’s thing. Unless he had somewhere he needed to be, he did not like being woken up. However, waking up to you first thing in the morning was definitely something that he wasn’t against. (Steve Harrington x Female!Reader, Stranger Things)

Winter in Volterra by @agirllovespancakes - Bella watches Renesmee doing a snowball fight with Volturi guards. (Twilight) the feel of your arms by @briseroyawritingsblog (Old Man!Logan x Female!Reader, MCU) No One by @justwhisperingfantasies (Soldier Boy x Female!Reader, The Boys) Rainy Reunion by @gloomwitchwrites (Aragorn x Female!Reader, LOTR)

Some Kind of Love by @blackleatherjacketz (Sonny Carisi x Reader, Law & Order: SVU) Dark Desire by @defenderrosetyler (Duby, Supernatural) Christmas Card by @bullet-prooflove - Bobby still keeps the very first Christmas card he got in LA. (Bobby Nash x Reader, 911) Restless Man by @luci-in-trenchcoats - A week after Beau’s kidnapping, the reader is grateful to find him in mostly one piece. But Beau’s more shook up than she could have imagined and when emotions are high, who knows what might get revealed… (Beau Arlen x Reader, Big Sky)

To be loved by you by @caplanbuckybarnes - He confesses a deep secret to her. (Draco x Luna, Harry Potter) Screwed Up and Brilliant by @writella - Negan is ready for you. Daryl isn’t; and maybe he’ll never be. Negan makes that clear to you tonight. (Negan Smith x Female!Reader, The Walking Dead) Day Nine - Frozen by @ohtobeleah - Jake is so intoxicated he forgets he played a life-threatening prank on you. Leaving you to freeze, for hours. (Jake Seresin x Reader, Bradley Bradshaw x Reader, Top Gun Franchise) [please read Warnings first!] Just Us by @arctickat2400 (Tom Felton x Reader, RPF)

New Year's Kiss by @romancingromanoff (Natasha Romanoff x Female!Reader, MCU) Lighthouse by @nescaveckwriter - Line: Tree, Clock, Rope (Dean Winchester x Reader, Supernatural) Careless Accidents by @mostly-imagines - aka you get hurt and jason’s pissed (Jason Todd x Female!Reader, DCU)

Unholy by @the-lone-writer94 - Reimagined story based on the motel scene in the Herogasm episode. Whilst Soldier Boy is adjusting to being back, he is currently holed up in a motel as he awaits for Butcher and Hugie. However, something comes up and Butcher needs someone to watch Soldier Boy. Which comes in Jessica, she’s a private investigator, she’s hot-tempered and tough, will she and Soldier Boy be able to be in the same room as each other? Because even she can’t deny that Soldier Boy is hot. (Soldier Boy x Female!OC, The Boys) Only you by @cheynovak (Cordell Walker x Reader, Walker) Run by @inez-winchester-cameron - After running into a dark room, you end up in the hands of the Winchesters, one soulless and one a demon (Soulless!Sam x Reader x Demon!Dean, Supernatural)

Our Little Secret by @bunnysbrainrot - Knowing your impatience between your intimate encounters, Joel gives you a sweet reminder of who belongs between those thighs of yours. (dbf!Joel Miller x Female!Reader, The Last of Us) Piece of jewelry by @percywinchester27 (Danneel Ackles x Reader, RPF) Midnight Espresso by @zepskies - You’ve never taken Dean’s flirting seriously…until he asks you for an impromptu Spanish lesson. (Dean Winchester x Plus Size Latina!Reader, Supernatural)

The Best Weekend of Your Life by @deanwanddamons - You are obsessed with Supernatural and go to a convention with your best friend. You are 100% a Dean girl while your friend is a Sam girl. Both Jensen and Jared are single in this. You both catch the guys attention and things go from there. (Jensen Ackles x Reader, RPF) A Peaceful Dream by @wayward-dreamer - Bucky and Y/N have a much needed date night, resulting in a little fun in the kitchen. Later, after experiencing a nightmare, Bucky comforts his daughter and helps her come to terms with it. (Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader, MCU) Elevator Encounter by @winchesterwild78 (Jensen Ackles x Reader, RPF)

Territorial Pissing by @thoughtslikeaminefield - My decades’ long crush on Soldier Boy was squashed when my career as a journalist taught me the real Soldier Boy story. Now, my career brings me full-circle. (Soldier Boy x Female!Reader x Billy Butcher, The Boys) It's All Coming Back To Me Now by @sams-sass - You are falling for Sam until Swan Song happens, but there is something you don't know. (Sam Winchester x Reader, Supernatural) Runnin' by @b3autyfuld1sast3r - Russell Shaw illicits the help of a spitfire civilian to help him track down his missing brother, Colter. Distractions are something he doesn't need…or so he thought. (Russell Shaw x Female!Reader, Tracker) Paschal Moon by @kickingitwithkirk - Jensen finds crossing the tracks isn’t always a bad thing (Jensen Ackles x Astronomer!Reader, RPF)

Ain't No Sunshine When She's Gone by @lamentationsofalonelypotato - Reader is a secretary at the Hawkin's Sheriff's Department and Jim Hopper drives her to and from work everyday. Hopper gets worried when reader does not come out of her home, and when he finds out she is sick, he decides to take care of her. Set before the events of Season One of Stranger Things (Jim Hopper x Female!Reader, Stranger Things) A Dragon's Glory by @syrma-sensei (Daemon Targaryen x Lannister!Reader, House of the Dragon) Fated by @nightxcreature - reader is struggling with a decision about her life and who is in control of it. (Dean Winchester x Reader, Supernatural) The Trouble With Co-Stars by @janicho88 - Filming has just wrapped on season 2 and you are leaving Vancouver for the summer. Summer is busy with a movie you are excited to be working on, even though it’s going to take you away from someone special to you. He has his own movie to film in California. That’s not a big deal right? Meeting new people can be a good thing for both of you, or not. (Jensen Ackles x Female!Reader, RPF) Ambitious by @chevroletdean (Dean Winchester x Female!OC, Supernatural)

Untitled Beau drabble by @beauswhore (Beau Arlen x GN!Reader, Big Sky) Special by @decaf-mother - You mean the world to him but he's not sure he deserves you. (Josh Washington x Female!Reader, Until Dawn) Unpunishable by @eepwtf - soldier boy boarding school au! x catholic boy (Soldier Boy x Male!Reader, The Boys) Untitled by @sp1dermann0 - Having sex in the back of Dean’s car (Dean Winchester x GN!Reader, Supernatural)

Prompt 6 by @sweetcocopowder - You finally bring yourself to summon a crossroads demon to strike a deal. But you quickly find out that this crossroads demon does things a lil differently to seal a deal. (Crossroads Demon!Dean x Male!Reader, Supernatural) admirer by @nesnejwritings - Mornings were easy and they always gave you a chance to admire your favorite green-eyed hunter (Dean Winchester x Reader, Supernatural) My heart skips a beat by @cevansbaby-dove - When Glen is at a red carpet event he just can't take his eyes off you… (Glen Powell x Reader, RPF) Be My Baby by @foxyjwls007 - Prompt Song: Be My Baby (Dean Winchester x Reader, Supernatural) Dance with me... by @flowery-mess - given song: under the tree - sam palladio (Bradley Bradshaw x Female!Reader, Top Gun Franchise) Don't tell me you love me by @justagirlinafandomworld - Castiel shares his feelings with you. What ensues, even you can’t predict. (Castiel x Reader, Supernatural)

Round and Round We Rendezvous by @talltalesandbedtimestories - You’re on a Girls Trip to Vegas and meet a certain hunter at the buffet. (Dean Winchester x Reader, Supernatural) Grace and Immortality by @alexsoenomel - Reminiscing on old childhood memories while on a case with Sam. (Sam Winchester x Reader, Supernatural) Earn It by @angelbabyyy99 - You hated Ben. His crappy personality, the whole nine yards, but you couldn’t help being attracted to it. (Soldier Boy x Curvy!Reader, The Boys) Recurrence by @jessjad - Sometimes the past comes back unexpectedly. But it's on you to decide if you let it get to you. (Jensen Ackles x Reader, RPF)

What he doesn't know by @pamwritessometimes - You’re hiding two dangerous secrets from Sam. Little did you know, he’s just uncovered one, but it’s not the one you think. (Sam Winchester x Witch!Reader, Supernatural) How To Train Your Demon by @thesilmarillionblog - Dean is consumed by darkness, and your body is consumed by his. He wants you to realize that his new self is superior and demands that you enjoy his demon form. (Demon!Dean x Female!Reader, Supernatural) Touch of Nature by @inknopewetrust - You connect with Benedict at one of Henry Granville's parties and the rest is history. (Benedict Bridgerton x Male!Reader, Bridgerton) Hello Nurse by @kittenofdoomage - Someone’s gotta go undercover as a nurse, and for once, it’s not the reader drawing the short straw (Dean Winchester x Female!Reader, Supernatural) You Scare Me, Professor by @joelswritingmistress - The reader is taking graduate classes at a local university in the wooded upstate New York. She is drawn to her professor, Dr. Joel Miller, though she is also inherently aware that he has something dark about him that she can't quite put her finger on. As the reader's attraction grows deeper, she has to decide whether to endure the danger or run away as fast as possible. (Joel Miller x Female!Reader, The Last of Us) Smarty Pants by @lanadelnegan - Negan shows his appreciation after you explain how to make a bullet. (Negan Smith x Female!Reader, The Walking Dead) Storm Warning by @writercole - Tyler returns to a town he hasn’t seen in three years. He didn’t expect much excitement. He could never have expected what he found. (Tyler Owens x Reader, Twisters)

Looking for more? Please check out my fic rec lists and writers rec lists (1, 2, 3). I do have some things to update like the Beau stories list, Alec, Russell, Jensen, Soldier Boy, Dean, etc (and I promise I will when I hopefully get more time in January) and I do have some more coming out like for Joe Velasco, Bobby Reyes, Law & Order: SVU, LOTR, etc.

In the meantime, if you’d like to peruse even more stories that are on my reading lists, please check out @biggerbearsreads and @tbbrebloglibrary (which will eventually take place of the 1st - tbbrl will be more organized by tags, etc) or you can check out @biggerbearficrecs.

Here it is, the last post for the holiday season. Starting next week, the #'s will most likely go back down to in between 10-20. I hope you all have a wonderful new year and rest of your holiday season/vacation!!! ❤️

And please don’t forget when you come across any and all creative content on here to reblog:

dividers by @saradika-graphics

#fanfiction fridays #december 27th 2024

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be-compromised · 13 days ago

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Secret Santa 2024 Masterlist

Thank you to everyone who took part in this year’s holiday fic exchange, from writers to beta readers to all you lovely people who leave comments. With an especial shout out to our heroic pinch hitters, @alphaflyer, @caiti-creative-corner, and @cassiesinsanity !

All gifts and authors have now been revealed, both on AO3 and on the masterlist (here and on dreamwidth). You’re now free to post, share, and link to your gifts wherever you like! If you could in some way link back to the exchange or the community, to direct people to all of the other wonderful fics as well, that would be appreciated.

If you feel inspired to fill any other prompts, or create stocking fillers or non-participant fills, please feel free. These just won’t be included as part of the Secret Santa exchange or on the masterlists.

From all your be_compromised mods, we hope you have a happy holiday season and wish you all the best for the new year. See you in 2025! ~ inkvoices, gsparkle & CloudAtlas 💜

Ain’t A Saint by @inkvoices for @huntress79 Mature; Clint Barton/Natasha Romanoff, Clint Barton/James Barnes, Clint Barton/Natasha Romanoff/James Barnes Summary:“I lead a group of immortals. Soldiers, like you. Two of us have already been experimented on - tortured - and I need you to come with me and get in the goddamn car, because it might already be happening to someone else right fucking now." Natasha, Clint, and Bucky dream of a new immortal. Meanwhile, a Stark Industries research vessel has found the Valkyrie. An Old Guard AU.

A Christmas Invitation by @caiti-creative-corner for Hurt_loves_comfort Teen & Up; Clint Barton & Natasha Romanoff Summary: Natasha might be stubborn, but Clint could wait her out . . . and he had good reason to be patient.

A Kiss for Luck by @cassiesinsanity for @firlalaith Teen & Up; Clint Barton/Natasha Romanoff Summary: A number of random, shared kisses that lead to one special kiss on New Year's Eve.

A Russian Lullaby by @iriel3000 for @chaed Teen & Up; Clint Barton/Natasha Romanoff, various friendships Summary: Based on the prompt by Chaed: “Clint isn't the only one haunted after New York. Natasha struggles with unexpected Hulk PTSD.” Ever wonder how "Natasha, we need a lullaby" originated? Clint thinks Natasha is hiding an injury but soon discovers it’s more.

At the Rose & Quill by @caiti-creative-corner for @cassiesinsanity Gen: Clint Barton/Laura Barton/Natasha Romanoff, Clint Barton & Kate Bishop Summary: Serenity and knowledge go hand-in-hand at the Rose & Quill, and Laura loves the serenity it brings her odd little family.

Backstage @scaarletwiitch for @mondstadtlover6000 Gen; Clint Barton/Natasha Romanoff Summary: Clint is struggling in his role on the technical crew for this year's production of the Nutcracker. Natasha arrives as a guest artist with the ballet company, feeling like an outsider.

Be More Obvious about It by @firlalaith for @heroofshield Teen & Up; Clint Barton/Natasha Romanoff Summary: Clothes say a lot about a person.

City Kid by Hurt_loves_comfort for @delektorskichick Gen; Clint Barton/Natasha Romanoff, Yelena Belova/Kate Bishop, Alexi Shostakov/Melina Vostokoff Summary: Natasha Romanov has been living in the city and doing ballet since she was four. What happens when an injury sends her to the countryside where she meets one Clint Barton?

Collecting Strays by Ultra for @inkvoices Teen & Up; ambiguous relationships - Clint Barton, Natasha Romanoff, James Barnes Summary: He hasn't known her long, but he's known her long enough. When Strike Team Delta are sent to take out the Winter Soldier, all Nat has to do is blink, and once again, Clint finds himself making a different call.

Earworm by @delektorskichick for @paperairplanesopenwindows Gen; Clint Barton/Laura Barton/Natasha Romanoff, Clint Barton/Laura Barton Summary: In a world where whatever song your soulmate gets stuck in their head also gets stuck in yours, Laura Barton has the unfortunate luck of getting a soulmate who loves those stupid, annoying commercial jingles. What's even more annoying is when it will randomly shift to classical ballet music. Laura's soulmate is so dead when she finally meets them. Note: Soulmates in this can be romantic or platonic, so it can be read either way as far as Natasha goes.

Faces of Ghosts by @paperairplanesopenwindows for @icantopenwaterbottlecaps Teen & Up; Clint Barton/Natasha Romanoff Summary:"Were you aware that Yelena's sister is my ex-girlfriend or was I just supposed to find that out when I complimented her costume myself?" "Huh?" America asked, clearly confused. Clint noticed that Yelena seemed unsurprised by this information. "Yelena..." Clint groaned. She clasped her hands together in faux innocence. "Wow! What do you mean? You know my sister, Natasha?" "What the fuck, Yelena?" "I had no idea," she said fervently, but was clearly holding back laughter. "I had no idea at all. Otherwise, I definitely would not have invited you both to this party with no warning."

favorite parts by @mondstadtlover6000 for @endlesstwanted Gen; Clint Barton/Natasha Romanoff Summary: Clint and Natasha get sent on a vacation—no, a mission. They think it's a mission, anyway.

Hearts & Roses by @huntress79 for ufohnoparty (why_didnt_i_get_any_soup) Teen & Up; Clint Barton/Natasha Romanoff/James Barnes, background Clint Barton/Melinda May, various friendships Summary: Fresh off yet another breakup, passionate florist Clint Barton relocates himself from semi-rural Iowa to BedStuy in New York, where his first boss and best friend Phil Coulson has found a flower shop in dire need of a capable owner. What he doesn’t expect is that his neighbors, tattoo artists Natasha Romanov and Bucky Barnes, not only will be responsible for his first tattoo, but also turn his whole life upside down – in the most positive way.

is it to soon to do this yet? by @quidnunc-life for @archers-and-spies Teen & Up; Clint Barton/Natasha Romanoff Summary: “When I told you two to get to know each other through a fun common interest,” says Coulson, “I meant watch an episode of Dog Cops or something. Not blow a city up together.” Or: Everyone knows Natasha hates Clint, but if they want to be a STRIKE team, something has to change.

i thought the plane was going down (how'd you turn it right around?) by @archers-and-spies for @cloud--atlas Gen; Clint Barton/Natasha Romanoff Summary: Being a weather witch is all fun and games, until you're seated next to the girl you walked out on ten years ago. Clint has the worst luck.

of dance cards and suitors by @icantopenwaterbottlecaps for Ultra Gen; Clint Barton/Natasha Romanoff Summary: “How about love?” he asks. Natasha tilts her head at Clint, an errant red curl falling from her elegant coiffure as she waits for him to elaborate. “Won’t you marry for love?” Or: a Clintasha Regency AU

Operation: Incoming by @alphaflyer for @scaarletwiitch Teen & Up; Clint Barton/Natasha Romanoff, Alexi Shostakov/Melina Vostokoff, Yelena Belova & Kate Bishop Summary: Natasha puts the phone down with a deep sigh and turns to Clint, with a look that’s a mix of apology and abject terror. “Incoming! Alexei and Melina are coming to New York and want to spend Christmas with us. They’re arriving tomorrow.”

Solecism by ufohnoparty (why_didnt_i_get_any_soup) for @iriel3000 Teen & Up; Clint Barton/Natasha Romanoff, Natasha Romanoff & Steve Rogers Summary: Natasha and Steve are on a mission together in Budapest. Things quickly go south and Steve doesn't know what to do when Natasha is gravely injured. She tells him to call her husband. What husband?

Something So Magic by @heroofshield for @caiti-creative-corner Gen; Clint Barton & Natasha Romanoff Summary: Sometimes the most unlikeliest of friendships are formed in a disappearing coffee shop.

The Mastermind vs. The Master Assassins by @cassiesinsanity for @alphaflyer Mature; Clint Barton/Natasha Romanoff Summary: Its driving Tony nuts trying to figure out the deal with Clint & Natasha, so he recruits some friends to help him find out.

Two To Tango (Or Kate Bishop’s Guide to Helping Your Mentor Realize He’s In Love with his Partner) by @alphaflyer for @quidnunc-life Teen & Up; Clint Barton/Natasha Romanoff, Yelena Belova/Kate Bishop, Pepper Potts/Tony Stark Summary: “These two are such idiots. Why don’t they just admit that they are crazy about each other?” Kate and Yelena see a problem and set out to fix it.

#secreta santa 2024 #secret santa 2024 masterlist #fanfic #marvel #clintasha #clint barton #natasha romanoff #hawkeye #black widow #and friends #happy holidays all!

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venusbyline · 18 days ago

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Bucky Barnes — Christmas and Candies.

— summary: The former sergeant decides to spend some time living in London a few years after the war, to get rid of the memories that haunts him. Christmas is not a celebration he enjoys anymore, however, meeting a waitress at a bakery is the kickstart he needs to feel a little softer again for the first time.

— pairing: Bucky Barnes x waitress!reader

— type: fluff, angst, 1940s AU

— word count: 1.6k

— tags/warnings: female!reader, war veteran!Bucky, post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD), mental-health issues, strangers to lovers, pre-relationship, angst and hurt/comfort, Christmas fluff, implied cheating, emotional infidelity, hopeful ending, ambiguous/open ending, argument, social anxiety, post-World War II, no powers (and no Hydra or Winter Soldier), 1940s, canon divergence. no use of y/n. english is not my first language.

— author's notes: This is my first fic with a character from the MCU. Bucky's my fav and maybe I'll write more about him later hahaha. Anyway, Merry Christmas <3 <3 I love you guys, thanks for everything and I hope you have fun with your families and friends.

— crossposting: AO3

Bucky had decided to take some time away from the USA a few years after the war, some time for himself, to rest and try to get to know new places and new people.

At least, that is what he had said his family and friends when he told the news. He needed to stay away from the cruel memories involving everything that had happened in the war, try to get rid of everything that made him wake up desperate and in a cold sweat at dawn.

Get rid of the nightmares that plagued his mind all the time.

However, nothing would go right. The apartment that Bucky was renting for a limited time was a complete mess. The acoustics of the rooms were terrible and he found himself constantly complaining to himself about the noise that the neighbors on each side made. And even more irritating were the children's cries at the front door. Bucky did not know how to approach the neighbors and complain about the sleep deprivation he was experiencing because of their kids, so he decided to just keeping silent, at least for a while.

That morning, Bucky woke up frustrated and took a shower before deciding to buy something for breakfast at a nearby bakery. He had not slept well and the look of frustration was evident on his face as he walked the streets. The dark gray scarf did little to warm him from the annoying fog that hit his face with every step he took.

He had gotten used to being cold during the war, but he could not help but keep complaining about it inside his thoughts. He had never been the biggest fan of winter days, just as he was not the biggest fancier of celebrating Christmas anymore.

During his innocent times, Bucky liked to look at the Christmas decorations. Now, after everything he was forced to face, he found himself constantly frowning every time he saw someone on the streets happy with the arrival of that commemorative date.

"Happy Christmas Eve. How can I help you, sir?" A soft voice caught Bucky's attention and he barely realized he had entered a bakery. He frowned when he saw the pretty girl with a red scarf so vibrant and it almost made him turn around and walk away.

Bucky took a deep breath, trying to ignore the discomfort with the color. Why did people like that damn red so much? It was just a stupid color to show love and passion, but in the former sergeant's eyes it only represented anger and reminded him of how much blood he had shed during the war.

How much blood he had been forced to watch his friends lose...

The girl remained looking at Bucky with a confused and excited expression at the same time, clearly not realizing how disturbed his mind was at that moment. Or at least pretending not to notice, perhaps due to a lack of empathy or simply to not make their situation even worse.

Bucky took a few deep breaths and finally managed to mutter. "A cream donut."

The sentence sounded with an absence of enthusiasm that made the waitress swallow hard, nodding with a raised eyebrow and then looking for a cream donut in the showcase. She could feel the man's eyes following her and every movement of her hands, poking his cheek with his tongue as he noticed that the donut had some red and green sprinkles on top.

"Don't you have a normal version of that fucking candy? Some version that doesn't look like Santa's elves threw up on it?"

The waitress' eyes widened at Bucky's sudden outburst, staring at him without knowing what to say other than looking at him as if he had just said the most cruel words in the world.

Bucky took a deep breath when he noticed how the girl had her hands shaking, confusion and a little anger written in her face, not knowing whether to put the donut on the plate or not. Guilt ate him alive when he noticed that his words had sounded angrier and louder than he expected. If it were before the war, Bucky would have excitedly entered the bakery, flirted with the cute waitress, bought several delicious and decorated candies, eaten them right there and flirted with the girl one more time before leaving.

The old version of him was a womanizer and philanderer. And his current version was nothing more than a traumatized asshole.

"You know what, doll... Forget it. You can put the candy back where it was before, I'll buy something at another bakery." He murmured, hoping that the nickname would soften his rudeness and his refusal to buy anything to eat there.

During the night, you finished selling the last candies and sighed in relief as the customers left. It was already more than ten o'clock at night and the need for a rest began to become clear on your face. Christmas Eve was always extremely busy at the bakery, and as much as you enjoyed the holiday, there was something strange about that night.

Maybe it was just the random man's rudeness during the morning, or maybe it was the feeling of emptiness and sadness that consumed your body every time you looked at the clock. You knew that your fiancé could not fulfill his agreement once again, and you could not help but feel quite melancholy when you realized that you were always falling for every stupid nonsense he promised.

When the door bell rang, revealing another customer entering, you sighed still facing away. "I'm already closing, sorry. There are no more candies to sell." You said with a cold and distant tone, wiping away the single tear that fell. There was silence after that and you frowned, crossing your arms as you looked back, sighing in frustration as you recognized the man standing there. "Oh, you again."

He nodded, his facial expression remained serious, however, his body language gave away his true emotions. "My name is Bucky. Bucky Barnes. And... I was a soldier. A sergeant, actually..."

"Bucky Barnes." You tested the name on your tongue with some curiosity and looked back at him, completely confused. "May I know why you are standing in front of me now, telling me your name and your former career?"

Bucky took a deep breath, crossing his arms like you as if trying to portray a confident image of himself, someone who was not shaken, until he finally gave up on the stupid charade and sighed. "I was a jerk to you, miss. I'm sorry. I just... I know that's not a good excuse, but I'm still so traumatized from the whole war that I couldn't help but feel angry seeing the arrival of the Christmas. And you..." He ran his hand through his hair, sighing again, brushing the brown strands away from his angelic but sad face. "And you're so beautiful and in the morning you were really so excited about this damn holiday. I ended up stressing out about that, I'm truly sorry I took it out on you. You don't even know me, it wasn't fair to you and your bakery. "

Bucky's quick and objective explanation caught you off guard and you had your mouth open for a few seconds. You tried to take it as a simple apology from a traumatized former soldier. It was only fair that he apologized to you after his selfish rudeness...

However, you took a deep breath. You took another look at the clock, realizing that in fact your fiance was not going to come back to take you to his house. He had done that during the last two Christmas Eve. Your family tried to convince you that it was just a difficult phase in your relationship and that it was not worth breaking up with a rich man to remain single around the world and be talked about badly as if you were a whore.

And you tried. You tried so much. Sometimes even too much.

And now you were tired from maintain by yourself the perfect couple charade.

A sigh escaped your lips and you looked back at Bucky, a hint of curiosity in his tired blue eyes while you picked up a bag from behind the counter and moved yourself to the table next to Bucky, his gaze admiring your face and also admiring the light brown wool dress you wore, as well as the dark red sweater with your initial embroidered in a shade of gold, perfectly matching the scarf you had been wearing since the beginning of the day.

As soon as you took some pretty candies out of the bag, Bucky chuckled. "I thought you said they were all sold already, doll."

You shrugged, feigning some indifference. "I said. But these were for me to take and eat during Christmas Eve dinner. You cannot blame for that." You gave Bucky a light smile. "Anyway, if you're free tonight, we can celebrate together.'

His eyebrows rose with shock at your point and clear flirt despite the engagement ring on your hand. Even before the war, Bucky was not a man to get involved with committed women.

And despite everything, now he did not even blink when he joined you, returning your smile and waiting with some excitement while you arranged the desserts on the table. That was a very unlikely way to celebrate Christmas Eve, having dinner with an unknown waitress who he had been rude to just a few hours before. In fact, this scenario had never crossed Bucky's mind when he moved to London or when he decided to buy some food at your bakery in the morning. Despite how unusual and even funny the whole situation seemed, Bucky felt alive for the first time in a long time.

Celebrating the special night with you was much better than being locked up inside his own apartment, brooding over each of the traumas that haunted his mind, always consumed with melancholy and self-loathing. At least from that night onwards, he would have a reason to visit your bakery quite often.

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