#WINTER soldier. because Christmas… get it?

[hearmeoutworthypoll]

the winter soldier arm from marvel rivals. not the man, just the arm

Bionic arm from Department X. Regularly upgraded to keep up with technology. Lefty

Reminder, the premise is “would a normie think it’s weird to find them attractive?” (Would they have to “hear me out?”)

[governmentmandatedryujinstan420]

I FORGOT TO THROW OUT AFTER THE EPISODE RELEASED NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

[thatgenderfluidmonstrosity]

Okay so I haven’t been active in any sort of Marvel/MCU fandom thing in a really long time but GAH DAMN DO I KNOW HOW TO DRAW MY BOY <33333

[cassiemaebarnes]

Shoulder to Lean On

Bucky x reader

Summary: When you fall asleep with your head resting on Bucky's metal arm, he starts to realize he's not just a weapon.

Word Count: 1,878

Steve insisted that the group do a team bonding activity, something about not spending enough time together outside of missions.

Which is how you ended up here, on the couch, squished between Bucky and Nat while everyone argued about which movie to watch.

It’s not that you didn’t like the idea of a movie night – you loved watching movies. You were just getting a little overwhelmed with everyone around you yelling, your shoulder awkwardly pressing against Bucky’s metal one, and it was clear Bucky wanted to be anywhere but here, leaning as far away from you as he could.

You and Bucky didn’t interact much, but he didn’t really talk to anyone much other than Steve. You just shared quick greetings and awkward small talk if you were alone in a room together.

So being this close to him for a few hours was going to be interesting.

But when the others finally settled down and decided on a movie, Nat leaned against the other side of the couch, allowing you to shift away from Bucky, just enough so you weren’t touching anymore.

They had picked a fairly new action movie, one you’d seen once before, so you were half-paying attention and half-zoned out.

You didn’t even realize when your eyes started to flutter shut as your body slowly shifted to the side.

Before you knew it, you were asleep – with your head slowly falling against Bucky’s metal shoulder.

--

Bucky stiffened the second he felt her head drift onto his shoulder, her weight light but unmistakable. His spine went straight, eyes wide as if someone had yanked him into a mission briefing without warning.

Of all the places she could’ve leaned – why the metal arm?

The chill of the vibranium pressed against her cheek, and yet…she didn’t flinch. She didn’t move away. She even sighed, soft and content, like this was the most natural thing in the world. His chest tightened.

He stared straight ahead, muscles locked, jaw clenched. His instinct screamed at him to shift, to move her gently off him before she noticed what she’d done. He hated this part – this reminder of what he was made of. What had been done to him. People didn’t lean on weapons. They avoided them.

But then…he glanced down.

She was completely at ease, her features relaxed, lips slightly parted in sleep. One hand curled loosely in her lap, the other resting near his thigh but not touching. There was no hesitation in her body, no discomfort in her expression. Just peace.

She trusted him.

His heart thudded heavily, each beat slowing with the realization. She knew what his arm was, and she’d still fallen asleep against it. Against him.

He swallowed, unsure of what to do. He let out a slow, silent breath, careful not to disturb her, and leaned back just a little more into the couch cushion, letting himself settle.

Maybe he’d let her stay there a while longer.

A few minutes passed before Sam noticed.

He leaned forward from where he sat on the floor and blinked. “Wait a second – am I seeing this right?” he whispered loudly, elbowing Clint.

Clint turned, squinting in the low light. His grin spread instantly. “Holy crap. Is she – yeah, she’s definitely asleep on Bucky.”

Steve looked over and raised an eyebrow. “And Bucky’s letting her?”

Nat craned her neck and smirked. “Not just letting – he’s not moving a muscle. He’s frozen.”

“That’s because he’s malfunctioning,” Tony deadpanned, grabbing a handful of popcorn. “Someone call Wakanda, his arm’s about to short-circuit.”

Bucky rolled his eyes but didn’t move. “She’s asleep,” he muttered, voice low.

“On your shoulder,” Sam pointed out, grinning like a kid at Christmas. “You normally flinch if someone breathes in your direction.”

“She’s different,” Clint stage-whispered dramatically. “The Winter Soldier has a soft spot.”

Steve chuckled, clearly enjoying this a little too much. “You okay there, Buck?”

Bucky glanced down at you again, then shrugged one shoulder carefully – not the one you were leaning on. “She’s comfortable,” he said simply. “Didn’t wanna wake her.”

But deep down, under the teasing and the smirks and the popcorn being flicked at his head, he wasn’t actually all that bothered.

In fact, he kind of liked it.

--

The credits rolled slowly up the screen as the final soundtrack played out, and one by one, the team began shifting and standing.

Nat stretched and cracked her neck. “Well, that was two hours of my life I’ll never get back.”

“Better than Clint’s last pick,” Sam muttered, brushing popcorn off his pants.

“You said you liked Mamma Mia!” Clint shot back, scandalized.

Voices layered over each other, shoes scuffed the floor, and someone knocked over an empty cup. The volume in the room rose steadily – but Bucky didn’t move an inch.

Still sitting ramrod straight on the couch, still letting you lean against his metal arm. His jaw tightened slightly as Steve glanced at him again with a knowing smile.

“You gonna stay like that all night, Buck?”

“Yeah,” Clint chimed in. “We should take bets – think she drooled on the vibranium?”

“I’m offended,” Tony said, pointing dramatically. “That arm was designed for stealth, precision, and battlefield dominance – not as a sleep aid.”

“Maybe it’s multifunctional,” Nat deadpanned, crossing her arms.

Bucky just huffed quietly, refusing to take the bait. “She’s still sleeping.”

“Not for long,” Steve murmured, just as your lashes fluttered.

Your body shifted slightly, and your head lifted off his shoulder as you blinked, disoriented. Your hair was mussed, a crease on your cheek from the ridges of his arm, faint but obvious. You squinted around at the group, half-asleep, voice groggy.

“…What’s going on?”

Clint snorted. “Sleeping Beauty returns.”

“You fell asleep on Bucky’s shoulder,” Sam said, clearly enjoying this way too much.

You paused, and then your eyes widened slightly as you slowly sat up straighter, fingers brushing at your cheek as if trying to smooth away the sleep marks. You didn’t say anything at first, just turned to Bucky – who still hadn’t moved – and gave him a sheepish look.

“Sorry,” you said softly, voice laced with embarrassment. “I didn’t mean to–”

“It’s okay,” Bucky said quickly, quietly. “Really.”

Something in his tone made you glance at him a little longer than necessary, but before either of you could say anything else, the teasing resumed.

“Look at him,” Sam grinned. “Protective mode activated.”

“This is my favorite team bonding night ever,” Clint said, not even trying to hide his laughter.

“Should we get matching blankets for them next time?” Tony added.

Bucky groaned and ran a hand down his face, but there was no bite behind it. You, now wide awake and thoroughly flustered, could only shake your head as Nat leaned in to whisper, “For what it’s worth, he didn’t move a single inch the whole movie.”

Your face burned, but a small, surprised smile tugged at your lips anyway.

The others slowly filed out of the room, still snickering and tossing back comments as they went.

“Get some rest, lovebirds,” Tony called, tossing a final wink over his shoulder.

“Don’t stay up too late,” Clint added before Steve finally ushered the stragglers out with a tired shake of his head.

You stood up slowly, rubbing your eyes and letting out a quiet yawn. The creak of the couch cushions behind you told you Bucky had gotten up too. You turned back slightly, surprised he hadn’t made a beeline for the exit like he usually did after group events.

You hesitated for a second, then smiled as you looked up at him. “Thanks,” you said lightly, your voice a little shy but warm. “For, y’know…letting me fall asleep on you.” You let out a small laugh, a bit self-conscious. “Didn’t mean to use your shoulder as a pillow.”

Bucky shrugged, hands in his pockets, a flicker of something soft in his eyes. “No problem,” he said. “Just didn’t wanna wake you.”

His gaze flicked to your cheek, and his brow furrowed a little. “Did it hurt? The arm, I mean.”

You blinked, then instinctively reached up and touched your cheek, feeling the faint ridges the metal had left behind. You laughed again, this time more genuinely.

“No, not at all,” you said, still smiling. “It was actually…really comfortable.”

His eyes widened slightly, just for a second.

“I usually can’t fall asleep sitting up like that,” you continued, dropping your hand and meeting his gaze. “But I guess it was comfortable enough to stay asleep, huh?”

Bucky let out a quiet laugh – more like a breath of disbelief – and looked away for a second, trying (and failing) not to let the corner of his mouth pull up into a smile.

People didn’t say things like that. Not about that part of him.

“That’s good,” he said, voice low and sincere. “I’m glad.”

And he was. More than he could say out loud.

You stepped out into the hallway together, the soft hum of the tower’s lights overhead filling the quiet.

For a moment, neither of you spoke.

Bucky walked just half a step behind you, hands tucked in the pockets of his sweats, eyes flicking to you every so often but never quite landing. You toyed with the sleeve of your hoodie, not really sure what to say either. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable exactly – just full of a weird mix of lingering embarrassment and…something else. Something new.

You were halfway down the hall when you glanced at him and said lightly, “I’m kind of surprised you didn’t shove me off the couch.”

He snorted, shaking his head. “I thought about it.”

You laughed, nudging him gently with your elbow, this time intentionally bumping into his metal arm. “Wow. Honored.”

“That was before you started snoring,” he added deadpan, but there was a playful glint in his eyes.

Your jaw dropped. “I did not snore.”

“I didn’t say it was loud,” he said with a straight face, “just a little pathetic.”

You gasped, swatting his arm with a laugh, and he chuckled – actually chuckled – like the sound surprised even him.

By the time you reached your door, both of you were still smiling, the awkwardness from earlier fading into something easier.

You stopped and turned to face him, hand resting on the doorknob.

“Really, though,” you said, voice softer now. “Thanks again. I…I don’t usually let myself fall asleep around people.” You hesitated, then added with a slight shrug, “But I guess I felt safe.”

That seemed to catch him off guard. His expression flickered – surprise, warmth, something quietly vulnerable.

He cleared his throat and glanced away for a second. “It was nothing,” he said, brushing it off with the same calm tone he used earlier. “You were tired.”

You smiled again, this one gentler. “Still. Thanks.”

He looked back at you then, and the space between you shifted – not charged, not heavy. Just full of something simple. Honest.

“Goodnight,” you said softly.

“‘Night,” he replied, the corner of his mouth lifting.

And with that, you slipped into your room, the door closing quietly behind you.

He stood there for a moment, staring at the wood grain, before finally turning and walking back down the hall – still not quite sure why he was smiling.

--

Masterlist

Bucky Taglist: @winchestert101 @herejustforbuckybarnes @avengemepercy @buckyslove1917 @nelachu2423 @iyskgd @navs-bhat @starstruckfirecat @yes-ilovetowrite

[mugglebornmarvelite]

Christmas Chaos

Paring: Avenger! Bucky Barnes x Avenger! Fem! Reader (Grumpy x Sunshine)

Summary: Your first Christmas with the team is one for the books. The excitement of unwrapping gifts turns into delightful chaos. 

Word Count: Roughly 1.1k 

Warnings: Fluff, Mild Violence (threats and roughhousing), Christmas themes, Bucky's red henley (totally deserves it's own warning)

Author’s Note: According to TikTik, tons of people didn't get what they wanted for Christmas; so here’s a little something I whipped up because I’ve been awake since 5 this morning and I have had three cups of coffee. I typed this on my phone, so if there are errors, I apologize. If you like this, you’re welcome and if you don’t, it wasn’t me :)

Navigation

Divider by: @strangergraphics 

You wake up to muffled noises from downstairs. You bury your face in your pillow, before looking at your phone for the time. It is too early to be up on any regular day, but today was different. It's Christmas day! Christmas day with your favorite people. You slipped on your fluffy slippers and quietly padded downstairs, rubbing your eyes and yawning softly. 

“Merry Christmas!” you chirped to the team.  

Natasha smiled and raised her mug of coffee. 

Wanda smiled and handed you a cup of hot chocolate. 

Tony was busy arguing with Bruce over an instruction manual, and Steve and Sam argued over who had better gift-wrapping critiques. But as you scanned the room, you noticed. Bucky wasn’t there.  

“Where’s Bucky?” you asked with a small frown.  

“He’s upstairs,” Sam said casually. “Brooding, probably.”  

“I can go get him…” You offered, only to be cut off.

“Nah, it’s fine,” Steve gave you a small grin, ruffling your hair. “Trust us.”  

Wanda passed you your stocking, filled with goodies. The works of small trinkets, candy and chocolate coins.

You grinned as you and Peter dove into the chocolates.

Tony already started complaining about the sugar rush you both would get.

Then, Steve pointed to a large, festively wrapped box.  

“This one’s for you, kid.”  

Your eyes widened. The box was massive, and you crouched down to peel the wrapping paper off. 

“What in the world?” you murmured, pulling off layer after layer. With a puzzled look, you pried it open.  

“Bucky?!”  

The former Winter Soldier was sitting cross-legged in the box, arms tied with rope, a gag around his mouth, and a pretty red bow on his head. He wore a snug red henley and gray sweatpants, looking both murderous and utterly done with life.  

He looked divine, even tied up. Delicious. Marvelous. He could make greek gods envious.

“Merry Christmas, sunshine,” Steve and Sam chorused, howling with laughter.  

Your jaw dropped, and then a giggle bubbled out of you as you knelt by the box. “Oh my gosh, you two didn’t! Poor Bucky!”  

Bucky’s piercing glare snapped to Steve and Sam. He growled something unintelligible through the gag, making them laugh harder. Your cheeks flushed as you gently began untying the bow and ropes.  

“I’m so sorry they did this to you,” you said, smiling softly as you helped him out of the box.  

Bucky’s expression was a storm cloud, but when his sharp blue eyes landed on your sweet, genuine smile, his hardened features instantly softened. 

“Merry Christmas, sunshine,” he murmured, pulling you into a surprisingly gentle hug. The heat of his body and the smell of fresh pine and something distinctly him filled your senses.  

You melted into the embrace, pressing your face into his chest as your arms circled his waist and whispered, “Merry Christmas, Bucky.”  

The tender moment lasted five seconds. Maybe eight, but who’s counting?

Then, he pulled back and turned to Steve and Sam.  

“You two are dead,” he growled, rolling his shoulders.  

Steve and Sam’s laughter ceased as they quickly stood. “Now, Buck, let’s talk about this—”  

But Bucky was already moving towards them, cracking his knuckles menacingly.  

“We’re going to run,” Sam muttered, and the two bolted out of the room, Bucky hot on their heels, shouting threats about payback.  

Watching the chase unfold, you couldn’t stop the laugh that escaped your lips. Natasha caught your eyes as she sipped her coffee.  

“Guess you’re his sunshine, huh?” she teased.  

You bit your lip, cheeks warm as you whispered, “Maybe.” 

Natasha smirked knowingly but didn’t push further. Instead, she was content to watch the chaos unfold as Bucky cornered Sam near the Christmas tree.  

“You think tying me up is funny?” Bucky growled, advancing with a predatory stride.  

“It wasn’t just me!” Sam yelped, using the tree as a barrier. “Steve came up with the idea!”  

Steve, who was inching toward the kitchen in a futile attempt to escape unnoticed, froze under Bucky’s glare.  

“Traitor,” he muttered under his breath, cursing Sam’s lack of discretion.  

“Traitor?” Bucky repeated, catching the word. “You both tied me up like a damn Christmas present and you’re calling him the traitor?”  

You stifled a laugh behind your hand, stepping closer. “Okay, okay, Bucky. Maybe don’t kill them? It is Christmas.”  

“Besides, we did it for her,” Sam pointed at you to soften the blow. “Right, sugarplum?”

“Do not call her sugarplum. Ever.” Bucky warned Sam.

“Bucky,” You called softly, looking up at him.

Bucky paused, looking back at you. 

His sharp glare softened into something almost dopey when he saw your pleading eyes and soft smile. 

With a sigh, he rolled his eyes and muttered, “Fine. They live. For now.”  

Sam exhaled audibly, his shoulders slumping in relief. “Thank you, sunshine!” he called to you, grinning.  

But Bucky turned sharply, pointing a finger at him. “Don’t push it.”  

Sam immediately zipped his mouth,

Steve, ever the brave one, chuckled and clapped Bucky on the shoulder as he passed. “Merry Christmas, old pal.”  

Bucky’s only response was a low grumble of curse before sitting on the couch. 

You disappeared into the kitchen and came back a few moments later, offering him a warm mug of hot cocoa in your hands.

“Here,” you said softly, “Hot cocoa. Consider it a peace offering on behalf of Steve and Sam.”  

Bucky eyed the mug for a moment, then you. He took it without a word, his fingers brushing yours briefly, sending a little jolt through you.  

“Thanks,” he muttered, taking a sip.  

You sat beside him, your own cocoa in hand, legs tucked beneath you as you leaned against the armrest. The room buzzed with holiday chatter and laughter, but your attention stayed on the super soldier beside you.  

“I hope they didn’t ruin your day,” you said after a moment, voice tinged with genuine concern.  

Bucky glanced at you, his lips quirking up in a faint smile. “Nah. Nothing can ruin my day when you are smiling at me like that, sunshine.”  

Your cheeks burned and you looked away.

Natasha, who had been observing the exchange from across the room, smirked and leaned over to Clint. “He’s whipped,” she whispered.  

Clint raised an eyebrow, glancing at you and Bucky before nodding. “Completely.”  

Bucky leaned back on the couch, sipping his cocoa and sneaking glances at you. Every now and then, his lips would tug into a soft smile. 

Without a word, he shifted, inching toward you on the couch. He casually draped his arm across the back of the couch, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

You eagerly took the opportunity to tuck yourself into Bucky’s side.

This time, leaving his cheeks burning.

Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed! Happy Holidays! Stay warm/cool wherever you're at.

Tell your loved ones that you love them.

And if nobody told you today, I love you <3

If you'd like to be added to my taglist

Much love x

- Maeve

[ailoda]

updated: 04.06.25

ᯓ★ fluff

His Sweet Girl (❤): Bucky taking care of his best girl. (@brnesblogposts)

Marshmallow (❤): her bed is too comfy for Bucky. But she has a solution. (@vivwritesfics)

Wallpaper (❤): Bucky finds out how to change the wallpaper on your phone, and takes every opportunity he can to do so. until one day he doesn't have the heart to. (@cosmicbucky)

Clean Shaven (❤): you shave Bucky. (@your-highnessmarvel)

Dog Tags and Drunkenness (❤): you go clubbing with some of the girls from the team to try and find Nat a date, but Bucky has a pretty specific routine in place whenever you leave his side. (@buck-buck-buckaroo)

Sanctuary (❤): we all need a safe place to rest, even when some of us don't believe it. (@eat-limes-bitches)

My Responsibility Is You (❤): Bucky’s girl has to get her wisdom teeth removed, and he would go to all lengths to protect her from that experience—but he has to deal with the aftermath and takes care of her in the best possible ways. (@eviesaurusrex)

Snowfall (❤): you refuse to go outside on a cold day and Bucky is more than happy to keep you warm. - florist!bucky (@navybrat817)

The Marriage Bet (❤): if in three years time both of you were still single, you will marry your best friend, Bucky. That's the bet. (@brunchable)

Loverboy (❤): Bucky, a lovesick, pining super soldier, vows to keep his feelings for you a secret — no matter how obvious his crush may seem. Those plans are ruined between a meddling Sam, an embarrassing fall, and a visit to the medbay with you. (@thevillainswhore)

From Me, To You (❤❅): as Bucky’s secret santa, you’re determined to give him the best christmas present he’s ever received. (@retrosabers)

Hold My Girl (❤): Bucky comes home from a mission and needs time to hold his girl. (@pellucid-constellations)

Magnetic Mishap (❤): you bought magnets for Bucky's arm, forgetting that vibranium is not magnetic. (@rinasauruss)

The Life (❤): Bucky Barnes and the domesticity he deserves. (@hesthermay)

Pluvial Kisses! (❤): Bucky being the absolute fuckin dream of a man. (@mercurial-chuckles)

Yours, Whether You Know It Or Not (❤): you’ve been running missions with Sam and Bucky for a while now, and everything was fine—until John Walker started showing up and taking an interest in you. Bucky isn’t having it. Not because he’s jealous. Definitely not because he’s jealous. He just doesn’t trust Walker. Right? (@magical-reid)

Bucky's Quiet Love (❤❅): after a painful breakup, Bucky offers quiet comfort and unconditional care, showing you a love that's patient and gentle. He mends the ache in your chest and reminds you that you deserve so much more. (@mugglebornmarvelite)

Five Days, Five Bouquets (❤): "Do I need to remind you that we're not actually married?" (@marvelstoriesepic)

Weakness (❤✧): you use Bucky’s only weakness to your advantage until it bites you in the ass. (@marvelstoriesepic)

The Soldier and His Mission (❤❅): when a trigger sends Bucky back into the grip of the Winter Soldier, he shadows you with an unyielding protectiveness that leaves the team on edge, though he doesn't harm anyone. After days of tension and careful steps, Bucky finally breaks through the icy barrier, returning to himself in a quiet, tender moment, finding solace in your presence. (@magical-reid)

Forever Sounds Good (❤): Bucky Barnes had been called a lot of things in his lifetime—soldier, assassin, hero—but when you called him your husband, everything else ceased to exist. (@billionairebratenergy)

Baby, It's Bad Out There (❤❅): your best friend Kate has always been good at attracting trouble and this time, it’s starting to become your problem, too. Then again, what’s Christmas in New York City without meet-cutes and gunfire? (@intrepidacious)

Your Girl (❤): you're very vocal about wanting Bucky Barnes. (@navybrat817)

All American All-Star (❤): falling for the club’s American striker, Bucky Barnes, was never part of the plan— especially since your father happens to own the club. (@aquaticmercy)

Courting (❤): Bucky is a man from a different time. It shows when you start ‘going steady’ and honestly, you love it. Alternatively; Bucky uses 40’s dating etiquette to woo you, and surprises you with a modern turn of phrase. (@inkdrinkerworld)

Tulip (❤): on a night when the past weighs heavy on Bucky, fate brings him to you. (@elixirfromthestars) biker?

Pretty Please (❤): Bucky Barnes is hopelessly in love with you. He gives you everything you ask for—until you stop asking. That’s when he decides to give you the one thing you never say aloud. (@daxisyzz)

new! Enchanted (❤): Bucky finally found his missing piece and it was you. He knew from the first moment he saw you. (@plumsdoll)

new! All up in Flames (❤❅): you just want your toxic ex-boyfriend’s things to stop haunting your apartment. So you let your friends lit the match. But then the sirens come, and with them Bucky Barnes, who puts out more than just the flames. (@marvelstoriesepic)

new! Oh, My Love, Side to Side (❤❅): after a successful yet traumatizing mission, you dream of losing Bucky for the first time in years. In a fit of panic, you call him. He answers. Not the phone, but the call your heart makes to his. (@daddyjackfrost)

[dameronspector]

Snow Shovel

Pairing: Dad!Bucky Barnes x Mom!fem!Reader

Summary: Bucky shows you a new trick on how to shovel snow

Warnings: Fluff, Bucky and Reader have a child, Dad!Bucky and Mom!Reader, the Barnes family lives in a brownstone house in this, set during/after TFATWS so Bucky has short hair still (because im choosing to ignore his fuckass bob for thunderbolts 😊🤞🏻.) I don’t think the reader has any kind of physical descriptions, either. If i have mentioned it in anyway, please let me know. (this gif is how i imagine bucky asks to pick up your baby)

Today, the entire city of New York was under a thick blanket of snow. It was nearing Christmas and the snow had finally decided to make itself known. You and your tiny family had decided to take a little trip to the nearest target to shop for Christmas decorations and a new tree.

Why shop, you ask? Well, you hadn’t bought new decorations ever since your baby boy was born. Now that he was 5 years old and past the crawling and knocking-himself-over-with-everything-stage, you and Bucky had finally decided to upgrade your decorations. And it would be a fun experience for your son as well. You and Bucky had decided to let him choose the tree this year and boy was he excited.

“Mama, are we doneeeeee. Can i pleaseeee go”, Sam, your son, whined (yes he is named after his Uncle Sam and yes, Sam cried buckets when he found out.)

“Hold on, honey. You gotta wear your beanie or else your teensy ears are gonna freeze and you also gotta wear your coat”, you said while putting on his beanie and tickling his tummy.

Sam giggled, shaking his body to get away from your hands.

While you were zipping up his coat, Bucky came over and leaned on the doorway.

“All done?”, Bucky asked while smiling ear to ear. Looking at you and Sam was his favourite thing in the whole world. Both of you were his heart and soul.

“Pa!”, Sam exclaimed while whipping his head to look at Bucky. Bucky was his superhero and best friend. So, as soon as he noticed you were done fussing over him, he ran over and hugged Bucky’s legs.

Bucky smiled down at Sam and picked him up. Sam put his arms around Bucky’s neck and kissed his cheek. Bucky came over to you and held out a hand to help you stand up. Hey, you you weren’t a super soldier. Your knees hurt.

You held his hand and stood up, groaning.

“You okay?”, Bucky asked worriedly and put his hand on your back, thumb rubbing circles on it. He knew that ever since you had Sam, your back and legs would particularly trouble you.

“Yeah, buck”, you replied and pressed a kiss to his cheek. You pulled away and smiled at him adoringly.

His cheeks turned a tinge of pink and he cleared his throat. “Are we ready to go, mama?”, he asked you.

“Yep. Had to bundle up precious cargo”, you say while poking Sam’s little button nose. Sam giggled again.

“Yeah, pa! We’re ready, let’s go!”, Sam said excitedly while swinging his little feet. Bucky tickled his tummy and all three of you giggled.

Much to Bucky’s dismay, his son loved winter and the snow. Because snow means he can make snowmen, drink hot chocolate, visit Santa, eat lots of sweets and watch lots of movies. Being the best father in the world, Bucky would always sacrifice his distaste for the winter season just to see Sam smile.

The three of you, now bundled up and ready, put on your shoes and opened the door, just to see your car being completely hidden by a huge pile of white powder.

You and Bucky cringed because it was going to be a task to remove that in your snow gear.

Sam, who was holding your hand now, gasped. “Where did our car go, mama!?”, he looked at you with his little eyebrows furrowed.

You looked down at him and ran your hands through his hair.

“It’s okay baby, pa will clear it, don’t worry”, you said and smiled at him. “Right, pa?”

You looked up at Bucky to see him approaching the car.

He turned to look at you and Sam and you could practically see the gears turning in his head. You raised an eyebrow to ask him what was he thinking.

He just smirked at you and put out arms in front of him and made grabby hands.

“C’mere buddy”, he asked Sam with mirth in his soft and gentle voice.

Sam dropped your hand and tried to run over to Bucky. You quickly put your hands on his shoulders to stop him from running across the slippery footsteps of your entrance.

“Wait! Samuel Barnes you will not run on these slippery stairs or the road”, you told him firmly.

Sam looked at the stairs with a serious expression and turned to you sheepishly.

“Sorry mama, will you help me get to pa?”, he asked sweetly.

You instantly smiled and pinched his cheek. “Ofcourse baby, come on.”

You held his hand tightly and made way to where your husband was standing. He was still looking at the two of you with amusement shining in his eyes, making him smile big and making the crowsfeet by his eyes prominent. He then cleared his throat.

“Honey, you’re going to see a new and improved way of shovelling snow”, Bucky said with the seriousness of a professional tutorial teacher.

You and Sam both turned your heads to the right like a puppy and it made Bucky look at you both with soft eyes.

Before you knew it, Bucky gently grabbed the front of Sam’s coat with his vibranium arm and he slid him across the rear window, brushing off the snow with his tiny body.

Sam squealed and you started giggling uncontrollably.

“Pa! Again! Again!”, Sam said loudly while laughing.

Bucky couldn’t stop the wide smile that broke out on his face. He lifted Sam up gently and slid him across the front door and Sam erupted in giggles once again.

You couldn’t stop smiling. You pulled out your phone and captured a photo of your boys, both of them mid laugh with their eyes crinkled.

Bucky brought Sam in his arms and kissed his cheeks repeatedly.

Sam put his arms around Bucky’s neck and laughed, his teeth (minus one canine) on show.

You clicked another photo and made it your lockscreen.

You went over to them and Bucky immediately brought you in his arms.

And maybe, winter was Bucky’s favourite season as well. He had to thank you and Sammy for that.

AN: i saw a video of a dad doing this to his baby and i went “oh i HAVE to write this w bucky.” And also because sebastian said bucky would be a good dad 🥹

[leascorner]

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.

[holylulusworld]

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.

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

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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[uramakimochi]

GIVEN ENOUGH

Joe Liebgott x Reader

!!!DISCLAIMER!!!: This story is based on THE CHARACTERS of the show!! Just like you write ff of your favorite character from your favorite serie/movie, this community does the same with this one. I obviously don't mean to disrespect the real veterans and soldiers who fought the war!

WARNINGS: based on ep.8, fluff & angst + comfort, description of war, death and blood, panic attack (i never had one so i'm sorry if it's inaccurate), FEM!R + use of Y/N and petnames, maybe Joe being a bit ooc? Inaccurate american accent because english is not my first language sorry, i tried my best~

"Yeah, absolutely not"

Joe chuckled as he sat on the bed, watching you pace back and forth in front of him.

"Sweetheart, this isn't really something you can decide" he retorted with a bitter smile.

You shook your head in protest as you brought your finger to your mouth to chew on what little nail you had left.

"That's out of discussion. You can't go on that patrol, none of you guys can! It's not fair!"

Joe sighed and leaned forward so he could take your other hand that was free, squeezing it and pulling you closer to him. "Hey come on, c'mere"

Even though you were full of anger at that moment, you let yourself be carried away by his touch and positioned yourself between his spread legs, while he looked at you from below.

"Stop worrying, it's just a patrol, nothing big" he tried to console you, placing his hands behind your thighs and caressing you gently. You let out a breath through your nose, still looking at him worried and angry.

You believed that after overcoming that cold nightmare you had experienced in Bastogne, between the mortar shells, the sharp splinters of the destroyed trees and the freezing Christmas spent huddled in your foxholes, there would be nothing worse in this terrible war. You believed that once you arrived in Hagenau, after losing men in the forest and in Foy, you could relax even just for a few minutes, in a warm bed and with a roof over your head. You believed the end of the war was near. But alas, you were wrong. You were all wrong.

It had been decided that a patrol should cross the river to take German prisoners, to get information.

And none of you liked the idea.

"It's madness. It's a suicide mission and no one cares about the hell we went through in Bastogne and Foy. We don't deserve this" you retorted.

Joe sighed again, trying to give you an encouraging look.

"They know it, sweetheart. Lip knows it, Speirs knows it and Winters and Nixon know it too. It's Sink's orders, not theirs."

"I know they know. It's just..." you murmured, running a hand over your heartbroken face. "We lost too many men. Hoobler, Joe, Bill... Muck and Penkala..."

Joe took your hand to bring it to his lips, kissing the knuckles, remaining silent and continuing to look at you from below, almost pitying your concern.

"I don't want any of us to get hurt again. What if something were to happen to you? I don't know what i'd do-"

"Hey hey no. Look at me baby, look at me" Joe raised an arm towards your face so he could rest his hand on your cheek, making you look down at his eyes. "Nothing will happen to me nor to any of us, okay? Everything will be fine. We've made it so far and i'm certainly not gonna get off the line 'cause of a damn patrol"

You continued to look at him in silence, since even though his words and his eyes tried to bring you comfort in every way, it was difficult for you to free yourself from that horrible feeling of fear and anguish that was slowly devouring you from inside.

Joe looked into your eyes for a few seconds and then sighed through his nose, stroking your cheek with his thumb.

"And even if some stupid kraut gets me, at least i know my sweet favorite medic will be there to heal me, right?" he then asked you with a small smile, indicating with a small nod the medic's band you were wearing on your arm.

You felt your heart become lighter even if only slightly and you couldn't help but smile back.

"There it is" Joe murmured and you saw his smirk grow softer. "I would like to see you smile more often. You're so beautiful when you smile"

You felt your face heat up as you tilted your head to rub your cheek against his palm, looking at him shyly.

"I'm glad you're here with me Joe"

He smiled at you and finally stood up, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you towards him to place a kiss on your forehead.

"Same goes for me, sweetheart" he murmured against your skin and you closed your eyes, enjoying the contact. "You're the only reason i'm fighting this goddamn war. And nothing's gonna take me away from you, you hear me?"

You nodded, raising your arms to hug him around the waist and burying your head in his chest, currently covered by the new and clean jacket he was wearing. You had received one too, but you hadn't had time to change yet.

For a few seconds, silence fell between you. It was nice to be able to enjoy those few minutes of intimacy you could have before any of the other soldiers needed you. And although you so wanted to stay there hugging him until the last day of that stupid war, you knew that unfortunately there were many other things to do.

But the calm atmosphere that had been created between you in that dingy little bedroom was not disturbed by you or Joe, but by Babe Heffron.

"Hey Y/n" he called to you appearing in the doorway of the room, also dressed in a clean warmer uniform like Joe. "All the men have taken their showers. You have free rein if you wanna take one too. In fact, i really think you need it, you know?"

You pulled away from Joe to look at your friend with a suspicious look.

"Are you saying i stink, Heffron?"

Babe shrugged, holding back a smile. "Perhaps"

You quickly took a step away from Joe, trying to slap Babe and he ran out with a giggle.

"Idiot" you muttered, shaking your head.

Joe came next to you and took your hand, making your fingers intertwine and starting to walk towards the exit.

"Come on. You deserve a nice hot shower too"

You turned to look at him with a smirk.

"You want to come in with me?" you asked him. "You've already taken a shower"

Joe rolled his eyes.

"Believe me doll, i'd take 10 more showers just to be with you" he said and those words made your heart flutter. "But Winters would never let me. I'll stay outside to make sure no one bothers you"

You reached over to kiss him on the cheek, squeezing his hand.

"My scary guard dog"

After a nice relaxing hot shower and getting changed, there was the patrol meeting and since you honestly didn't want to wait for Joe and the others outside, you went to Eugene to see if he needed any help, as his fellow medic.

When you got to him, Eugene had his back turned to you as he was busy organizing the supplies that seemed like a lot but were never enough. You reached out to the doorframe to knock with your knuckles and he turned to you.

"Need a hand?" you asked.

Eugene gave you a small smile.

"I could use some company"

You entered the room and approached him, clasping your hands behind your back as he resumed his work.

"Are you okay Gene?" you asked him then.

The medic's hands froze, taken aback by the question and he let out a breath through his nose, then continued tidying up. "I should be the one to ask you this question"

You furrowed your eyebrows, confused by his words and fell backwards to rest your back on the edge of the table he was working at. "Why?"

Eugene raised his head to look at you.

"We know it was tough for you and Lieutenant Compton after Guarnere and Toye. So i'll ask you this question: are you okay darlin'?"

You remained silent for a few seconds thinking about what to answer, while his light eyes remained fixed on yours, as if he wanted to search your soul. But you realized that Gene was right.

After all the work you and he had done, after all the wounded soldiers you had taken away from the line, after all the dead soldiers you had lost under your hands, you still hadn't managed to save Joe and Bill from the cruel fate that had been reserved for them. Yes, they were still alive, thank God, but the image of their bodies lying on the snow, which was tinged red from the blood they were leaking from their legs that had got blown off, was something you would never get out of your head again.

Lipton had come to talk to you after the incident, on Gene's advice and he tried to console you as he had done with Buck. But unlike your lieutenant, you insisted on staying with everyone else, you didn't want to leave Eugene and Spina alone.

And now that you were in Hagenau were you better? To tell the truth, you didn't know at all.

"I think so" you only murmured, crossing your arms. "Seeing my friends in that state disturbed me a lot, i'm not gonna lie. But knowing that at least the two of them are still alive reassures me"

You gave him a small smile, trying to let him know that he didn't need to worry. But as if he was reading your mind, Eugene looked at you with sympathetic eyes.

"You know you don't have to go through this alone, right?" he asked you, tilting his head slightly. "We're at war and people die in war, against our will. And when this is the situation we're living in, it's okay not to feel okay, darlin"

Eugene reached out to your shoulder, placing his palm on top of it and stroking you with his thumb. You looked at him with teary eyes and shook your head.

"I don't want to leave, Gene. I don't want to end up like Buck. They need me here" you murmured in a low tone, for fear of bursting into tears at any moment.

But Eugene nodded with a smile and moved his hand from your shoulder to your cheek when he saw a lone tear escape from one of your eyes and gently wiped it away with his fingertip.

"We know you won't leave, you're too stubborn" he retorted making you smile slightly. "Talk to Liebgott about it. Just let him help you. You've always taken care of the others, so let us take care of you now. Okay?"

You sniffed and nodded, running a hand over your face to wipe away the tears that were forming in your eyes.

"Y/n, i have good news baby!" another voice suddenly exclaimed bursting into the room and both you and Eugene jumped in fright.

You barely had time to turn towards him when Joe came towards you to give you a big hug, placing a kiss on your temple.

"What happened?" you asked, looking at him in confusion.

Joe gave you a toothy grin, placing his hands on your shoulders and shaking you back and forth lightly.

"I won't go on patrol" he said and your eyes widened.

"Really?? That's great!" you replied, smiling back.

You didn't like the fact that your other companions would still go on patrol, but for once you wanted to feel selfish and rejoice in the fact that at least Joe wouldn't risk his life.

"But why?" you asked him then.

"It was thanks to Webster. That guy finally did something useful" he replied with a smirk.

"Joe…" you called back to him in a mock reproachful tone, giving his shoulder a light push. "You need to stop treating him like he's a replacement. You and everyone else. He doesn't deserve this, it's not his fault"

Joe rolled his eyes with a smirk. "Fine. Yes ma'am"

And before you and he could leave to go back to the others, you took one last look at Eugene who gave you an encouraging smile.

When night fell, the soldiers crossed the river. Joe was no longer part of it, but he told you he would remain on the outside providing covering fire with the machine gun.

So you stayed with Eugene, bouncing your knee and biting your nails anxiously, hoping that no one would come calling for you to assist someone who had been wounded. You just wanted you and the others to be safe sleeping in your warm beds.

But sadly, your prayers were not answered.

It wasn't long before you began to hear gunshots and mortar blasts outside, accompanied by screams that were getting closer and closer. Then suddenly someone came to you calling your name and Eugene's. It was Johnny.

"Doc! Jackson is hurt! Quick!"

You and Eugene jumped up and followed him towards the basement, your heart beating faster.

"What happened to him??" Eugene asked.

"Wounded by grenade splinters! He threw it himself!" replied Johnny.

As soon as you went down to the basement you heard the myriad of voices filling it in a multitude of echoes. You managed to catch a glimpse of the German prisoners and Lieutenant Jones. Then there were Webester and others hunched around the table, trying to tend to Jackson.

You and Eugene made your way through the soldiers, reaching poor Jackson and once you saw him you noticed how serious his injuries were. His face was full of blood and dirt, scarred by shards of wood and glass.

"We're here Jackson, we're here!" Gene said, placing a hand on his neck and turning him towards him. "Stay calm!"

You positioned yourself next to him and took Jackson's hand, knowing that unfortunately there wasn't much you could do at that moment except try to console him.

"I need light, give me some light" Gene ordered and Skinny next to him pulled out a lighter.

Silence fell for a few seconds as everyone's eyes were fixed on Jackson, Eugene and you. Then Eugene lifted his eyes from Jackson's mouth to look at you.

"We gotta get him outta here, let's go"

You nodded and helped him and the others load Jackson onto the stretcher.

"I don't wanna die!" Jackson exclaimed in pain. "I don't wanna die!"

While he was being carried, you placed your hands on his bloody neck, trying to bring his gaze to yours.

"Jackson listen to me, you're not going to die! Okay??" you exclaimed. "You're not going to die! But i need you to hang on! Hang on, Jackson!"

You placed the stretcher on the floor and Jackson continued to breathe heavily, looking at you with the heartbroken eyes of someone who was afraid of death. "I don't... I don't want to die..."

"Jackson!" you called out to him, cupping your hands over his wounds. "Please hang on!"

"Jackson!" Eugene continued.

But the young boy began coughing and his mouth filled with blood. His head wiggled for a couple of seconds until suddenly he stopped completely and let go like... Like dead weight.

Your hands loosened their grip on his neck and when they left his skin you saw your palms covered in fresh blood. You slowly raised your head to look at Eugene and shook your head.

Jackson was dead.

In the silence of that basement, some of the soldiers began to cry silently, while Johnny stepped forward to place a blanket over Jackson's body.

You had your eyes fixed on your bloody hands, which were slowly starting to tremble from the knowledge that another innocent boy had died under your eyes. Because of you.

"I-I’m sorry…" you muttered to no one in particular, catching the attention of a couple of men.

You stood up and even though your intention was to run outside, you knew that unfortunately it wasn't possible as long as the Germans continued to shoot. So you simply went to a corner of the basement, as free and away from the others as possible, and sat on the floor with your back against the wall.

You tried to wipe your hands on your new uniform, but the dried blood remained on your skin, so to ignore that horrible feeling you hugged your knees to your chest and buried your face between them. You could feel some of your companions gazes on you and it only added to the humiliation you were feeling.

Someone put a hand on your arm, but you rudely made him move away. You raised your head and met the worried gaze of Eugene, crouched in front of you, who still had his hand in mid-air. You wanted to apologize to him for having that reaction, but you didn't have the strength to do so. And looking closely into your shining eyes, he too understood that at that moment it was better to leave you alone and so he did.

You were all grieving in that basement.

As soon as the sounds of the gunshots stopped, you took the opportunity to get up and run upstairs, leaving without saying anything to anyone.

"Y/n!"

Babe tried to call you, as he and Chuck started to follow you, but they were blocked by Eugene who stretched out a hand towards them and shook his head.

Meanwhile you ran into one of the empty bedrooms and almost crashed into one of the bunk beds. It was dark, but fortunately the light of the full moon that was shining in the sky that night was able to make the inside of the room more visible through the windows. You wanted to sit on one of the mattresses and think, but with every step you took, you felt your strength fail, leaving room for another strange sensation of anguish.

You tried to lean on one of the beds with one hand, but your legs started shaking and in a few seconds you found yourself kneeling on the floor. You felt your breathing start to get heavy and you put a hand on your chest, trying to calm your pounding heart, but it was no use. You couldn't calm down, all your mind was thinking about were the images of the bloody bodies of your comrades, of all those you had failed to save. But why were you panicking just now??

As you tried to inhale oxygen through your mouth, you squinted, hoping you could rid yourself of those horrible images. But the bloody and cut face of Jackson, who until a few minutes before had begged you not to let him die, appeared before your eyes. And only then did you realize how much his death was haunting you, like the ghost of a victim searching for his killer.

You wanted to scream but you felt suffocated, you couldn't speak. You felt like you were dying.

"Shit. Hey, Y/n, hey hey hey"

You jumped in surprise when you heard a familiar voice enter the bedroom. The sound of your heartbeat was ringing in your ears and you couldn't hear the footsteps of anyone approaching.

"Look at me. Baby, look at me"

Someone placed a hand on your cheek, forcing you to lift your face towards him and you finally opened your eyes. It was Joe.

"It's okay, it's okay" he said.

You shook your head, looking at him with wide eyes and irises twitching frantically, not knowing which part of his face to focus on. You didn't even know whether to be happy that he was there to comfort you or humiliated to let him see you in that state.

"J-Joe... I can't-"

"You gotta breathe, you hear me? Breathe sweetheart, breathe" Joe replied worriedly. "I know it seems difficult, but you have to do it. Breathe with me"

He began to take deep breaths and you tried to do the same, but it all seemed pointless.

"I-I can’t do it..." you sobbed, closing your eyes again. "I c-can't do it, i can't do it... Joe..."

He tried to comfort you by wiping away with his fingers the tears that had started to come out of your eyes. You didn't even realize you were crying.

"You can do it doll, it's okay. You just need to take a deep breath, hm? Keep trying"

You felt him start breathing again and you tried copying him. Seeing that you weren't showing any signs of improvement, Joe took your hand and brought it to his chest, under his jacket.

"Feel the beat of my heart. Follow it"

He squeezed your hand in his and you concentrated the last strength you had left to focus on his heartbeat, throbbing under your palm.

And finally after a few seconds of pure panic you managed to breathe in sync with him, despite your breaths being occasionally interrupted by sobs.

"That's it" he murmured, stroking the back of your hand with his thumb. "It's okay sweetheart, you're safe. Just keep breathing"

A couple of minutes passed before you could calm down.

You lifted your head to look at Joe and he gave you a genuine smile of encouragement. But despite the darkness of the night, the moonlight still allowed you to see the thin veil of worry that was still spread over his eyes.

"Doc told me what happened down there" he said and for a brief moment his gaze lingered on your bloody hands. "Is it because of Jackson?"

You sniffed and roughly ran the sleeve of your jacket over your face.

"Y-Yes" you nodded, but then shook your head. "I mean, no... Fuck, i-i don't know..."

Joe looked at you with pity and even though you had just wiped the tears off your face, they started flowing again.

"It's just a lot, you know? I-I'm tired..." you whined with a trembling lip. "I'm so fucking tired of not being able to save lives. Every time i close my eyes i see their empty gaze a-and every time i try to sleep i hear their screams, their cries and t-their moans of pain. They beg me to save them , to be able to go home and see their mother for the last time. And i jus let them die.... All of them"

Joe shook his head, clasping your hands in his to cover the dried blood that stained them. "Sweetheart, you know that's not your fault-"

"How can it not be?" you retorted. "I am a medic and my job is to save people. Yet no matter how hard i try, in the end they all die before my eyes!"

Joe looked at you silently, contemplating what to say. You looked like a little girl crying because she had just had a nightmare. It was strange for him to see you in that state.

Your presence was like a ray of sunshine in the middle of a storm and it was usually you who took care of him and the boys when they were down. Too busy thinking about others, you had kept inside all the pain that the war had caused you, slowly becoming a bomb ready to explode as the months passed.

Now the bomb had finally exploded. And Joe knew that now it was his turn to take care of you.

"What can i do for you?" he asked you in a sympathetic tone.

You looked at him almost with an insecure look.

"Can... Can you just hold me? Please?"

And he nodded without hesitation.

"Yeah. Yeah doll, come here. C'mon"

He wrapped one arm around your shoulders while with his other hand resting on your hip he brought you closer to him, holding you close to his chest. Your lower lip began to tremble again and your eyes filled with tears again. Within seconds you started crying again, this time not out of panic, but more as a way to let go of everything you had kept inside of you.

"I-I want to go home…" you sobbed, rubbing your cheek against his jacket. "I just want to go home. I'm tired of all this"

"Shh, don't worry sweetheart, it's alright. Shh..." Joe tried to console you, reaching a hand towards your face to dry your tears. "Just let it out"

You covered his hand on your cheek with your own, holding it close to you, as if to make sure he was really there with you. Finally feeling his body heat against yours, you felt your heart become lighter even for just a little and you were immensely grateful to whoever was up there for his presence.

You didn't know how much time you spent crying in his arms but after you were done you stayed there with him, not having the strength to get up and go back to the others.

"You feelin' better?" Joe asked, breaking the silence and you nodded.

"A little"

Joe took a breath, wrapping his arms tighter around your body.

"I want you to know that everything that happened is not your fault. You shouldn't even dare to think that"

"But-"

"No, i'll do the talk now" he interrupted you gently. "Doll, every one of us here is doing everything they can to make it out of this war alive. We're doing what we trained for and so are you. I saw it, the boys saw it. Fuck, you think Winters didn't see it? We all saw it. You're a goddamn hell of a doctor, sweetheart"

You sniffled as your brain tried to absorb everything he was saying. "But… But i could have done more…"

Joe shook his head and lifted your face towards his, forcing you to look into your eyes as he caressed your cheek with his thumb.

"No. That's the point, baby. You couldn't do nothing more, because you always gave your all. You're not a god, you can't save everyone. You've already done enough for us and that's okay"

You remained silent, pondering his words, your gaze fixed on the floor. Joe continued to stroke you, while with a sigh he turned his head to take a look out the window. The stars that decorated the sky shone in the darkness of the night. It was a celestial, poetic vision, but it wasn't anything he hadn't seen before: during his time in the foxhole, when he wasn't looking out over the horizon at the Germans, he often found himself admiring the sky with you.

"Joe"

When in the midst of the silence your voice sounded faintly in the bedroom, he looked back down at you, at the same time you also turned to look at him again.

"I'm sorry i kept this from you" you murmured, almost humiliated by your behavior. "I know it's better to let go when you feel this way, but i was afraid of showing my emotions. I didn't want you to see me as a weak... Sorry"

Joe shook his head, looking at you apologetically.

"It's normal to be scared, it's normal to have feelings. It's what makes you human, sweetheart. And you know you can always talk to me when you don't feel good, right?"

You nodded and he continued.

"So i want you to promise me one thing: if you ever feel this way again, i want you to go talk to someone about it. Whether it's me, Roe, Lip, or even Speirs or Winters, i don't care. Anyone. But i don't wanna see you suffer again 'cause you think you haven't done enough. Got it?"

You realized that everything that had happened was exactly what Eugene had told you was best to do. Talking to someone helped you on not going insane. It was the only way to move forward. For a moment you felt stupid for not doing it sooner, for keeping it all inside for fear of being judged. But Joe and the others were your friends, your family. They would've never judged you.

So you nodded again and you felt your eyes become teary again at his words, but this time you managed to keep yourself from crying. And finally Joe saw your lips curve into a small, trembling smile.

"There it is" he said, in the exact same tone he had used that morning. That tone that always made your heart beat like a teenager in love. "I missed your smile. You're so beautiful when you smile, y'know?"

You wrapped your arms around his torso, pressing your body against his and  getting even closer to him than you already were. He wrapped one arm around your back, while his other hand went to rest on the back of your head, so that it rested on his shoulder.

"Thank you" you said against his jacket, letting out a heavy sigh of relief. "I'm so grateful you're here with me, Joe. I don't know what i'd do without you"

Joe tilted his head to leave a lingering kiss on your hair as he caressed your back with his fingertips.

"Same goes for me sweetheart. Same goes for me"

[fictophilianworld]

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

[lunaroserites]

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.

[venusbyline]

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.

[scar-lie]

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.

[mrsparrasblog]

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.

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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.

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"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.

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(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."