#abitchassholiday

[the-omni-princess]

Beauty and the Beast (Soulmate AU)

Author: @the-omni-princess​

Summary: You wake up the day after drunkenly meeting your soulmate.

Prompt: “When did you learn how to figure skate?” // “I dunno.”

Word Count: 1.8K

Pairing: Bucky x Latina!(and Mutant!)reader

Warnings: fluff! Hangovers, seriously, so much fluff!!!

A/N:

@bitchassbucky for #abitchassholiday , and the casual sequel to Sleeping Beauty! [Read here!]

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I’ve been dying to write a Latina!Reader since I’m Latina! Here’s my first one. It's still pretty lowkey tbh but hopefully I can write one where it’s a bit more explicit the reader’s Latina! :D

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[Masterlist] [First part]

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Previously….

He did however, let you go, just as you stopped screaming. “Do… do you know who you are?” you tried in a soft voice, still on edge. Where the fuck was Mr. Star Spangled Ass?

“Bucky… My name was Bucky,” he whispered softly, now looking down at his chest where his mark had deepened in color to darker freckles, easily shown on his light skin.

Your eyes widened, looking down at your hand, your own freckles became more pronounced as well. “Holy shit,” you mumbled, just as Steve and Tony burst through the door, making you both jump.

“Bucky?” It took him less time to recover, now noticing both of you skimming your marks with your hands in shock. “Wait… are you two…?” His eyes glanced back and forth between the two marks.

You looked up towards the Super Soldier, unsure how to really explain the dare that tossed you at your soulmate. “Um…. Hi… Soulmate?”

--

James Buchanan Barnes, the infamous sidekick of Captain America, a fact you used to argue about in US History class when you were younger since who would call that hot guy the sidekick?!, just looked at you with a little tilt to his head. “Soulmate?” he murmured softly, looking down at his mark on his chest. His eyes widened as he took in the multitude of darker freckles. He looked back at you, following your own gaze to your hand, where the freckles had darkened on the underside of your palm. “Soulmate…”

“Well… that’s unexpected to say the least,” Steve muttered, both he and Sharon looking on with a bit of amusement.

Bucky looked up, noticing the blond couple for the first time. “Stevie?” His voice cracked, and even in your very buzzed state, you could tell Steve was also a little emotional.

“Hey Buck,” he replied, smiling sadly before looking again towards you.

You were now gripping the table for support, the room starting to spin. “Ay Dios, is the room spinning or is it just me?” Your eyes fluttered a bit, vertigo hitting you full force, just as Bucky rushed forward, catching you before you could hit the ground. You groaned softly, looking up at his face, a goofy smile lighting up your features. “Oh, yeah. You’re my soulmate. You know, I always thought you were cuter than Cap. Think I have a thing from brunet boys with pretty blue eyes, and your eyes are way more blue than I could have imagined with those black and white photos,” you continued to ramble, babbling on as the trio watched in amusement.

“First meeting with her literal other half, and she’s wasted,” Sharon sighed softly, now looking at you with pity.

“And the reindeer- hey! I’m not wasted!” You cried out before going back to your rambles.

Bucky just looked up at her, smiling faintly, as he held you up, “I can handle a drunk dame, better than my ma, she was a cursing drunk.”

Steve chuckled, helping Bucky lead you, very slowly towards the common room where you promptly passed out snuggled on a blanket on the sofa, completely oblivious to the fact that the former Winter Soldier was being introduced to the Avengers, while all he did was watch over you.

--

Searing pain lit up behind your eyes, and your temple was definitely throbbing. Groaning, you reached around your bed for your phone, freezing when you realized you were most definitely not in a bed. You looked down and groaned, you were also still in the party dress from last night, wrapped in a blanket that was also most definitely not yours. You inspected it, noticing the little cobwebs and widow symbols on the fluffy blanket. So, you were wrapped in Natasha’s blanket, the one you got her for her birthday last year as a joke. Looking around, you also realized you were in the main living common area in the tower.

“FRIDAY? How’d I get here?” you called out, groaning softly as you clutched your temples. You were most definitely hungover.

“I can answer that,” a voice called, one you recognized as Steve.

“Lower your voice, you menace, I’m nursing a shitty hangover.” You pulled the blanket over your face, covering yourself from the lights.

“We’re well aware of that, dollface,” a new voice joined in.

You stiffened, slowly dropping the blanket and looking at the man in front of you in surprise. “Hey Steve? I haven’t gotten drunk in a while, are hallucinations normal for being hungover?”

“Nope, I’m real.” Bucky stood, before kneeling beside you. “How much of last night do you remember?”

You gripped the blanket tighter, feeling a bit more exposed than you would like. “Last night? Why would I need-“ your voice died as you looked down at your hands, realizing the freckles that covered the palm of your left hand were darker. “Holy shit, please don’t tell me I met my soul mate and I was too wasted to remember,” you groaned, pouting up at Sharon who walked in. “You get a perfect, they-were-neighbors story, and I get the I-was-drunk story.”

“Not everyone can meet their soulmate because they literally bumped into them, besides,” Steve nodded towards Bucky, who was still kneeling beside the couch. “You literally fell for him.”

You looked back towards the brunet with horror written on your face. “Please tell me it wasn’t as cliché as Mr. Dramatically Yeets Himself Off of Planes Without Parachutes is making it out to be.”

“What does ‘yeet’ mean?” Bucky gave you a small confused look, one you have to admit was pretty cute. Okay fine, maybe he was your type. Dark-haired, pretty eyes, cute dimples when he was smiling. Okay so he was gringo, you could work with that.

“Throw, well basically,” you supplied, much to Steve’s horror.

“You do WHAT?!” Bucky cried out, making Steve cringe, and you whimper softly, closing your eyes in pain.

“Welp, we’ll let you two get well acquainted, sober at least,” Steve grabbed Sharon’s hand and hightailed out of the room.

Bucky didn’t give them a second look, now focused on you. “Damn, I’m sorry, after all your rambles last night I still forgot you would be hungover. Here,” he gently gave you some aspirin and water, which you promptly downed. “How about we do this right? I’m Bucky.”

“I’m well aware of who you are. Used to have fights with my friend in high school because she thought Steve was the cutest Howling Commando, when it was clearly you. Why am I still rambling?”

“It’s quite alright, I find it cute,” he gave you a bright smile, and your heart fluttered for a second.

You chuckled softly, smiling at him before sitting up, making room for him on the sofa as you told him your full name. “But that’s just the government name, everyone ‘round here calls me y/n/n, or FireCracker but that’s usually just Tony.” You gave him a smile.

“Why FireCracker?”

“Well, two reasons. One, I tend to keep talking and say my mind. And two,” you held up your hand, letting flames cover your fingers before they died out again. “I have powers…I hope that’s alright by you,” you whispered softly. Truth was, both the fact that you were Latina and were a Mutant were reasons you were teased and mocked growing up in all-white schools in the South. It was another reason who were so quick to join the Avengers when you were offered the chance. More diverse, and more accepting people. In theory at least.

“God, that looks absolutely amazing! Can you do it again?” Bucky gushed, eyes lighting up as he watched your powers. You smiled shyly, letting a small flame light up your palm. “Does it hurt?” He asked softly.

“Only if I want it to,” you looked up at him, caught a little off guard that he would be so interested in your powers instead of scared, it usually took people more time to get used to it.

“Woah,” he murmured, eyes wide as he took in the flames.

You smiled bashfully, secretly excited that he liked your powers. The flames died out, soon revealing the freckles again. Bucky hesitantly took your hand in his, his thumb rubbing over the freckles that marked the first place you touched, two souls finally coming back together again.

“How about I take you on a date, doll? A real one, since our first meeting didn’t go as expected.”

You blushed, nodding with a smile. “I know just the thing! We can go to the Rockefeller Ice Skating Rink, take in the whole Christmas season.”

His eyes lit up, “That ice rink is still there?!” he cried out, excitement thinly vied in his voice. “Gosh, I remember Stevie falling face-first when we were younger, had to patch up that nasty bruise on his cheek and a broken nose. Ma was pissed we went without my sisters.”

You couldn’t help the smile on your face as you took in his joy. “I’ll take you, Bucky.”

--

“Well… its certainly different from when I was last here,” Bucky’s grip on your mittened hand tightened. Buried underneath scarves and jackets, Bucky helped you pull your beanie down. He naturally ran warm because of the serum, so he didn’t need as many heavy coats in the cold winter weather. You however, were more used to warmer climates, and this cold weather was not agreeing with you.

“Good different?” You took the skates from the attendant, handing Bucky his before attempting to tie up your own.

“Well the tree’s certainly bigger,” he chuckled, noticing your struggle to lace your skates up and helping you before tugging you onto your feet. Shimmying to the rink itself, gripping onto each other as the earth became ice underneath your feet. You yelped, clinging to him as he guided you on the ice. “And I have my soulmate in my arms, being an adorable mess,” he teased, chuckling as you shot him a glare.

“That’s no fair Buck! When did you learn how to figure skate?” You looked up at him incredulously, still struggling despite the fact that he was holding most of your weight up.

“I dunno.” He teased right back, a smug grin on his lips.

“Ya know, if I knew you would have been this self-satisfied, I would have just done a Christmas movie marathon with you instead, get you well acquainted with movies of this century,” you shot back, giving him a look that sent him into a fit of giggles – actual giggles.

“Well doll, the night’s young, and you have plenty to teach me.” He pulled you closer, making you realize you were dead center in the rink, a suspicious flash in the distance making you notice Nat taking picture of you two. He gently tilted your head up, locking eyes with you. “I just found you, dollface, I’m never letting you go,” he smirked, “my clumsy little soulmate.”

“Call me little or clumsy again and I’ll roast your ass, Barnes, literally,” you growled playfully, giving him a mischievous look, which told him you didn’t really mean it.

He smiled, his hand gently holding onto your face, “I look forward to it, doll,” he murmured, the distance between the two of you closing.

Closing the distance, you kissed him tenderly, arms wrapped around his neck, ignoring the flashes most definitely coming from Natasha. Here, cuddled up in your soulmate’s embrace, the hand that first touched right over his heart was now pressed against his cheek as you kissed. Surrounded by Christmas lights, sweet Holiday music, and children’s laughter as they skated around you two, it felt like your very own piece of a Hallmark movie. And who were you to disagree with Fate?

------

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Permanent Tags:

@minetticatinwonderland​  / @lumar014​ / @maniacproffesor​ / @gollyderek​ / @nerdy-bookworm-1998​ / @avengerstones​ / @momc95​ / @loving-life-my-way​ / @agentpeggybarnes​ / @marvelmaree​ / @thefridgeismybestie​ / miraclesoflove  / hello-fanfiction-goodbye-grades  / deathofmissjackson

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@xetoilerouge / @amlocked​ / @bitsandbobsandstuff​

For a tag, just reply/comment, if I don’t see it, just message me. Tell me what you think! Literally, any comment makes me happy! Like, comment, reblog, interact <3

#sequel #because people asked lol #My writing #soulmate!au #abitchassholiday #bucky #Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #james buchanan barnes x reader #james buchanan barnes #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #bucky/yn

[sugarfreecapsicle]

the library card

A/N: Okay so two of my faves had amazing challenges out: @cake-writes & @bitchassbucky and how could I not join?? Please go follow them, they are brilliant and lovely and all things good in the world. I am so grateful to know them both and to call them my friends. I hope you both enjoy!!

bitchassbucky’s holiday writing challenge

cake’s 1940′s challenge

warnings: mentions of war and war-related things such as weapons and wounds, pining, fluff, kissing, injury

pairing: bucky x reader

Even at camp, Bucky can’t escape the frigid cold - a fire of any significance to comfort would alert any number of civilians, army, Nazi to their location in a radius of three to five miles. Kilometers here in Germany. Not that it matters to his numbing fingers under the obscured task of fixing his damn buttons. Visible breath fogs his view, resulting in a few too many pokes through sensitive fingertip skin before the dull void crept through them.

Surrounded in olive green, muddy brown, midnight he can take this risk. The final stitch in place, he pulls his lighter close enough to light the wrinkled, seamed letter.

I got the job, my darling! Tomorrow your girl will be a real librarian in Brooklyn - can you believe it? They even let me register you for your own library card. Now you have obligations to get back home safe to me. You’ve got so much reading to do!

Instead of a photo, you’d enclosed a little paper card with all his pertinent information included - his full name, an identification number, the name and address of the Brooklyn Public Library. A bona fide reader even here in the wilderness.

The card’s ink had smudged a bit, as present and intimate as the dog tags on his neck. You, he kept specifically in his left breast pocket. Every letter, every telegram.

The tune starts quiet and soft in the back of his throat, dry lips mouthing the words to no one but himself. 

You are my sunshine

My only sunshine

Fresh tears well at the corners of his eyes, spill one by one down grimy cheeks and unshaven stubble. Then, he hears the low hum of approaching planes, and his stomach lurches.

—-

Banners danced along the fresh walls of the Brooklyn Public on your first day of the job. Posters encouraging citizens to do their part, support the men overseas, fight the good fight emblazoned every space unoccupied by shelves of books.

Leather and vanilla, fresh ink. Even the pleasant thud of rubber stamps became the equivalent of the heartbeat of your library. One of many librarians, your team took pride in a job well done, a child’s awed expression with a new book in hand.

After lunch you’d be reading to a small group of almost-school-aged children. You sighed happily, if a little longingly. 

One day. One day your soldier would come home. Until then, you’d hum his favorite song.

—-

Mortars and bullets littered the air, ground, his friends. Each thud of a body churned in his gut, his gun held close as a baby to his body. Distance. He needed distance. 

Deep in the trenches, far from the bird’s eye view preferred by a skilled sniper, Bucky’s chest heaved in gulps of mossy air.

A scream, a wail, a battle cry. Pure adrenaline in his veins. His legs surged him onward as his ears rang, deafened to all other noise except her sleep-heavy morning voice.

You make me happy when skies are grey

You’ll never know, dear, how much I love you

Please don’t take my sunshine away

—-

You couldn’t read the Daily Eagle anymore, not with the headlines touting the worst of men, the death, the cruelty of nations. Doubt weighed your heart - an anchor, broke it day after day.

The facade of optimistic determination aged like soured milk. Watching families torn apart by selfishness and greed and hate day, even in your pretty library.

Not enough of the soldiers came home. 

Yours hadn’t yet, and he promised.

The soup you had for lunch only gurgled in your stomach. You hungered for his presence, the reassurance that your Bucky was safe. The not knowing of it all wrecked you so completely.

Then came a letter.

Coming home. Safe. Bucky.

—-

The terror haunted him still - Bucky could smell the muck and lead and blood every morning when he woke. More than once already, he’d fallen out of bed with a phantom limb, the left arm from his shoulder down now gone.

For once, Steve saved him from an unfair fight. He owed Steve everything anyway, all the love and brotherhood any guy could hope for between them. Steve had helped him pin the sleeve of his coat, too, on the way over to Brooklyn Public Library.

Busy for a Tuesday so close to Christmas, Bucky thought as he surveyed the various patrons milling through the glass doorways. Heart thudding the same as his newly polished boots, the doors scared him almost as much as the face of his former captor.

Inside, the world changed into something other. War no longer existed - calm quiet, studious, polite. Not tense quiet of night in hiding, watching, waiting for the enemy to appear from the dim light of camp. No need for a rifle. No need for a blade.

“Can I help you?”

She wasn’t you. Part of him wished for this to be so easy.

“I need help finding someone, if that’s alright,” he muttered, right hand flexing nervously in his pocket. Another heartbeat in his hand.

He said your name out loud for the first time in months, whisper quiet as if to keep you sacred as a secret between friends. She beamed and ushered him quickly to the children’s section near the back of the right side of the expansive room.

Murmurs bounced off the wooden shelves, cushioned thoughts and wishes on donated oak. Bucky tried not to wince, his skin itching all over with nerves and what-if’s. 

Then he saw you.

And oh.

What a vision.

Boots scraped on the new floor, heels touching, posture at full attention. A boy again.

A periwinkle dress, cut and layered just the way you’d always liked. Your makeup done simply, accenting the peaks and valleys of your face, and those pearl earrings. Faux pearl, but nobody who mattered could tell the difference. Bucky wanted to buy you a real necklace, eventually real earrings. And a ring. Anything with potential to make you glow like the sun.

The way you glow when you’d seen him standing there like a dope. Tears fall before you were able to get to your feet and rush to him, arms around him as if he might dissipate if you let go. His right arm hooked around you, tight and unyielding, face pressed close to your ear.

You sobbed, taking inventory of every minuscule part of his face. Violet bags under his eyes, making the blue all the more stunning. Bucky, your very real and tangible Bucky, looked beaten and as worn as the army-issue boots he wore. He cried, he wriggled with sobs in your arms, leaned where your hands brushed. 

“Darling, you made it home for Christmas!” 

He choked, head down, lips pressed between angry teeth. Your hands draped over his shoulders at the back of his neck, moved forward, and -

Bucky flinched in shame. No left arm. Less of a man. The worst of it, your hand moves instead to his face again and urges his eyes upward.

“Sarge, I think you may have some stories to tell me instead.” 

He didn’t hold back the watery scoff, the salty kiss to your lips or the tender I love you.

#abitchassholiday #cake’s 1940s challenge #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fan fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes fluff #bucky fluff #bucky angst #bucky fic #bucky fanfic #bucky fanfiction #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x female reader

[captain-kelli]

Christmas in the District

Title: Christmas in the District

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Type: Challenge // One-Shot // Coffee Shop AU

Word Count: 1,130

Summary:  Christmas makes you want to be with the people you love. Will you and Steve finally admit your feelings for one another? 

Warnings: fluff in the highest degree

A/N:  @bitchassbucky​ is kicking off the season with a holiday writing challenge! If you’re looking to get into the spirit with us, follow along on the #abitchassholiday tag. Thanks for letting me play, Kaye!

If you happen to reblog, thank you for helping me spread my work! You can find more just like it on my master list. 

“Doors opening on the left.” 

You pour out of the train with a crowdful of others, everyone bracing for the cold awaiting them above the metro tunnel. The snow has been coming down for several days now, dropping the temperature even further as it settled in over the district. Not that you minded. The unexpected snowfall only added to the beauty that was Washington, DC in December.

The city is dressed in classic decorations at every turn. Towering Christmas trees sit in front of the Lincoln Memorial, inside the Capitol building, and on the White House lawn.  Lamp posts are wrapped in garland with wreaths hanging from their lights. But your favorite place at Christmas is the little coffee shop you often frequent on the way to work.

Exiting the Archives Metro Station, you cross 7th and it’s not even a block up. The shop is nestled in a charming red brick building, its frosted windows warmed by the candles in the sills. When you walk in, you hear Sinatra crooning “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas” and the whole place smells like a mix between baked gingerbread and fir trees. It was homey. 

“Good morning, welcome to Sarah’s! What can I get you this morning?”

You order your usual from the girl behind the counter. If you were being honest with yourself, you would admit that you were disappointed to see her instead of Steve. He is one of the owners of the place and, after a year of making you coffee every morning, he doesn’t have to ask you what you’d like.

You are also madly in love with the man. Not that it matters.

While you wait for your order, you sit at one of the tables near the windows. Pulling out a folder from your bag, you begin to review the events being hosted at the National Gallery of Art over the holidays. As one of their curators, it was expected that you attend most of them. The carolers, the ice rink,  and the “Christmas Story in Art” exhibit were fun ways for the gallery to celebrate the season, so you didn’t mind making an appearance.

“Y/N! I thought I missed you this morning!”

You look up to find Steve standing over you, a festive paper cup in his hand, assumedly with your drink in it. You utter a “hello,” allowing your eyes time to fall over him, pausing for a moment to appreciate the cable knit sweater he was wearing. You take the cup and soon feel its warmth wash over your hands. Steve looks down and notices the spray of papers on the table.

“What’s on the docket at the gallery today?”

You hum, looking over the schedule. “It looks like the U.S. Army Chorus will be joining us this afternoon for caroling. You should come! They’re singing at 2:30.”

This isn’t Steve’s first invitation to the gallery. In the months you’ve known him, you’ve asked at least a dozen times. He’s yet to take you up on the offer. As expected, he turns you down this time, too.

“Oh, Y/N...I’m sorry, but I don’t think I can today. The shop is always so busy this time of year.”

Of course, you understood. The gallery was busy, too. The two of you make small talk a bit longer, awkwardness invading the conversation, when you toss the event schedule back in your bag. It’s time to get going.

“Have a good day, Steve.” You wave over your shoulder and head out the door. Bundling up, you bring your scarf further up your neck to fight the bitter cold. Thankfully, the gallery is only a quick 2 minute walk from the coffee shop. The snow steadily comes down, unrelenting in its descent.

Steve was right, the day was a busy one. The butter cookies shaped like snowmen with the sugary frosting sold out pretty early and he had grown tired of drawing snowflakes in latte foam.

In between all of the bustle, his thoughts kept drifting to you.

It wasn’t that he didn’t like you. He was just certain you weren’t interested in him. Not like that anyway.

At 4, Steve starts to close up the shop. He’s regretting telling you “no” yet another time when the other owner comes around the corner to stock the bakery shelves. Bucky and Steve have been friends for years and starting this coffee shop together had been a lifelong dream for both of them.

“Hey, did you see your art girl today?” More snowmen cookies and gingerbread men start to line the shelves.

“She’s not my girl, Buck.”

“Yeah...but she could be. The way you two look at each other is sickening.” Smirking, he slides the display’s glass door shut.

Steve considers Bucky’s words, busying his hands by counting the cash in the register. He chooses to stay quiet. Maybe if he ignores him, Bucky will get the hint.

“I swear Steve, do ya want to be known as the leading authority on waiting too long? Ya better do somethin’ before ya don’t have that option anymore.” Bucky leaves, taking the empty tray back to the kitchen.

His friend was right, you couldn’t wait forever. Luckily, Steve had an idea.

The gallery closed at 5, but you still have one more stop to make before heading home for the day. Across the street sits the Sculpture Garden. In the winter months, the gallery installs an ice skating rink complete with twinkling lights strung all around it.  

You lean against the railing, watching children learn to skate for the first time and young couples hold hands as they make their way around in a circle. The speaker serenades the crowd to the tune of “Let It Snow,” a nod to the weather out. 

“All of these years in DC and I don’t know that I’ve ever come to the Sculpture Garden at Christmas.”

You jump at the intrusion of your thoughts, but are delighted to see who’s interrupting them.

“Steve! What are you doing here?”

“It’s cold out. Thought you could use something to keep you warm.”

He hands you a large paper cup that, you discover after taking a giant sip, is filled with hot chocolate. It tastes infinitely better than what the pavilion cafe was serving.

“Thank you, it’s delicious.”

You sit in a comfortable silence until you offer, “I’m surprised to see you.”

Steve shifts on his feet, trying to find the right words to say. Might as well go for it, he thinks.

“Well...it’s Christmas. Christmas makes you want to be with the people you love.”

A rosy pink blush rises to your cheeks, warming your face despite the cold. Hooking your arm through his, you smile up at him, “yes, yes it does.”

#abitchassholiday #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x you #steve rogers/reader #Steve Rogers #coffee shop au

[that-damn-girl]

Tinsel Teasing

(One-shot)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x (cis)Female!reader (MCU)

Words: 2200+

Type: Pure smut, teasing, 'Friends' reference.

Warnings: It is pure smut after about 100 words of plot and then some teasing. Bondage if you squint. 18+ only.

A/N: This is for @bitchassbucky's Holiday Writing Challenge. Thanks for letting me participate!

Honestly, I have a newfound sense of appreciation for all smut writers out there. It is my first smut piece and it took me longer than intended because as I thought of what would happen, I would get all hot and bothered and turned on and I just had to calm myself before I could write further lol.

Also, there is a F.R.I.E.N.D.S. reference. I mean I'm a MCU fan and this is a MCU fanfic. How could I not insert a reference when I got the chance to? Anyway, hope you enjoy it!

The atmosphere felt jolly. A current of joy danced around you. You pondered over which ornaments to put where on the Christmas tree you and Bucky hand brought in the day before.

You saw Bucky putting up a few decorations himself. His brows furrowed as he stared in concentration at his work. He decided there were too many golden balls hung up at one place and too scarce at another. He picked one from the concentrated mass and bent down to hang it on one of the lower branches.

Who would have thought the most feared and deadliest assassin of the twentieth and twenty-first century would fret over Christmas decorations? If that wasn't cute, you didn't know what was.

Not having such liberties while growing during the Great Depression, Bucky was overjoyed to spend the upcoming Christmas not thinking much over whether the decorations and gifts came first or food.

He had always loved decorating the Christmas tree with his family, even if the trees in his home had more dead branches than lushy leaves and him and Rebecca would have to cover tiny old and empty boxes and newspaper rolls with wrapping papers for ornaments.

He held a fluffed up red tinsel in his hand and looked over and around the tree to determine how he could wrap it. Just as he reached up to tuck its one end on an upper branch, you snatched it away from him. You proceeded to wrap it around yourself instead and tried to give him a sensual and sexy smile, blinking in the same manner once and posing for him.

At least it was sexy in your head.

He eyed you in your his bottle green sweater which touched your mid thigh and hid your shorts. Keeping his hands on the hips he smiled widely, amusement flashing in his eyes. You took his hand and led him towards the couch facing the fireplace.

"Hey doll, stop using my tinsel as your boa scarf." He said seemingly threateningly, but his body said otherwise. You  made him stand in front of the couch, pushed him backwards and retraced your steps to pose for him again.

"Why Sargent," you shrugged, "just offering my services." then  whispering seductively you added, "Open exclusively for you." You winked before turning around and wiggled your hips at him. He could feel blood rushing downwards. If you kept it up, he knew the upcoming situation would be hardly possible to ignore. He knew you were doing it purposely.

He rubbed both his thighs and said, "Oh babe, you suck."

"Your dick." You licked your lips imagining the taste of him and closed your eyes in ecstasy, tipping your head slightly back, baring your neck to him. He wanted nothing more than to cover your neck in hickeys in that moment.

You ordered Alexa to play 'This Is What You Came For' by Rihanna and danced slowly along the tune.

Baby, this is what you came for

With the tinsel looped around the back of your neck and both sides held in your two palms, you dragged your hands from your waist to your neck as sensually as you could manage.

Lightning strikes everytime she moves

Tossing your hair to the side, you walked towards him slowly, making sure to add as much movement to your butt as you could.

And everybody's watching her

You tugged him forward with his collar and bent down. Your faces were mere centimetres apart. He chased your lips but you pulled back.

But she's looking at you, oh ,oh

He looked at you with lust filled eyes. You sat in his lap, both legs around his. You could feel a rigidness beneath yourself. You decided to lightly grind againt it. His arms immediately took a hold of your waist to manoeuvre you along.

Since you were looking at his lips, he chased your lips once more but you pulled back once again. Irritated with not being able to taste the heavenly goodness in front of him, he moved to your neck. As he sucked harder and harder, you rolled your eyes, tipping your neck involuntarily to give him more space.

"Now who's the one sucking, baby?" He stopped his ministrations and pulled back to look at you smiling mischievously. Holding you by the waist, he stood up and dropped you on the couch, lowering himself as he caged you in with his hands. The growl which escaped him next diluted any of your resolve to tease him more. You giggled.

He went in for your lips like a man deprived of touch and comfort for decades. One of his hands moved to your waist, the other supporting his weight. Yours moved to the back of his neck, tugging him closer. You sucked his lips, he sucked yours. It was a battle of tongues, fighting to gain dominance.

He slowly slid the tinsel off your neck, tingling you where it rubbed. You lifted your head, deepening the kiss. The tinsel was completely off of you and in his hands. He took your hands in his and dragged them up and over your head. He looped the tinsel over your joined wrists loosely twice, leaving the ends untied and moved his hands back to your waist. It felt slightly itchy. However, you couldn't give it much thought as suddenly your skin protected under the warmth of your sweater met the comparatively much colder air and you gasped.

The sweater was bunched just above your breasts, which Bucky mauled with his hands. One cold, one hot, circled your nipples. Made them as hard as the rigid mass of flesh you felt against your thigh.

He moved his warm hand down your waist, into your shots. Teasing you, testing you. It was a sensory overload overall. You wanted to hold him close, so you did. However, as soon as your hands left their designated place, Bucky's left hand came up to take both your wrists in his own. Keeping your hands above your head again, he leaned his on the armrest to support himself off of you slightly, leaving you all cold and edgy. The other hand teased you clit relentlessly.

You got goosebumps all over. Shivering, you whinned into his mouth. "Bucky,"

"Babe," He started kissing your cheek, leading to your neck and sucked on the tender skin. His talented mouth marking you. Claiming you. Your back arched off the couch. Bucky put some of his weight on you again to stop your withering. His fingers weren't even inside of you yet.

He flicked your clit. Rolled it between a finger and his thumb. Pushed it against your pubic bone. Rubbed it. Ran his fingers over it gently once, then roughly the second time. Got back to rubbing it, repeating his motions, destroying you, taking you away part by part to ecstasy. You were wet enough, greatly overwhelmed. Soon you felt that familiar tingle in your lower abdomen and came, wetting his hand.

Bucky knew if he felt the pressure of your precious pussy around his fingers, he would come in his pants. As it were, he was already a bit hard while putting up the decorations. Yeah, getting hard ons at random times of the day was shit. Your little show later didn't help at all. He was lucky though, that you decided to do it then.

Being as hard as the trunk in their living room, he couldn't wait anylonger. He quickly got off of you, undressed himself and you in a frenzy, and pounded back on you with the force of a starved lion. Desperate. For touch. For love. For attention.

For you.

You lay him down on the couch this time and laid on top of him. The power play had been over. There was only one primal need.

You started kissing him down his chest until you reached his nipple. You licked it, kissed it, sucked hard on it. Bucky hissed. Feeling his hard and handsome abs, you wrapped one hand around his shaft. Stroking it gently, squeezing it. As you ran  your finger over the slit, smearing the precum, his eyes contracted in too much pleasure. You kept moving your hands on his dick, feeling him harden more as you  switched between his nipples. Bucky was in sixth heaven.

His flesh hand grabbed your asscheek, wanting to hold onto something, while his metal hand gripped the armrest behind his head. You knew his hesitation with you and his black and gold arm. But as you pleasured him, you wanted his undivided attention on only yourself, and not on the couch. You trusted him. So you took his metal arm off the couch, placed it on your other asscheek, and continued stroking him.

Your speed increased. His grip tightened. As he was strong, both his arms were too. You knew there would be light bruises at your hip and leg joint just by him gripping them hard. The effect of his metal arm would unconsciously be more. But you didn't mind. You loved him, all of him. And that included his inorganic arm. You desired all of him. You would take everything he gave, whether it be from his flesh arm or metal.

As your strokes got stronger, he moaned loudly. It turned you on even more. You took his strong muscular thigh in between your legs and rubbed your clit on it. The scene of you pleasuring yourself on his thigh and him simultaneously was so hot, he had lost it. He needed to come, and fast.

He brought his hands up to your waist, lifted you off of him and set you down on his lap, right above his dick. He gripped his cock in one hand and guided it to be in line with your entrance. You sunk down on him. Feeling the delicious stretch, welcoming it, you threw your head back, moaning.

Seeing you enjoy yourself, knowing he was the reason behind it, it was a priceless pleasure. Not to mention your walls squeezing him. He had become impatient. Tightening his hold on your waist, he rammed his hips up into you while pulling you down on him at the same time.

You expected slow and sensual moves based on the pace you two were enjoying yourself. His impatience and roughness at the moment surprised you. Surprised, not unwelcome. You couldn't complain about the change of pace as you felt your pleasure intensifying.

He sat up, one hand holding your neck, your mouth to his ear, and the other encircling your waist entirely. You moaned as you heard him moan sinfully in your ear. You had to roll your hips more than you could bounce, this position restricting your movement as he held you close.

You forced yourself back a little, keeping your arms behind you on the couch. His hold loosened reluctantly. Balancing  yourself on your arms, you started bouncing atop him. His grunts your fuel. He too tried to meet you halfway.

He looked at where you two joined, mesmerized enough. You did too. It was downright sinful. You could feel him stimulating that special spot inside you much better in this angle. You closed your eyes savouring the feeling. He started rubbing your clit. You could feel his pulse in his dick throb against your walls.

You knew he was close. He knew  that you were close. You knew that he knew that you were close. He knew that you knew that he was close.

With a little more push from both the sides, both of you came. Panting, your eyes, which are closed all that time, finally met his. Even before you could feel it, you saw it in his eyes. His lust hadn't died down yet. If possible, it had increased tenfold. He was still hard inside you, though as your cum seeped out from the sides.

You harshly kissed him, full of lust, in gratitude for previous pleasure and in need of more. He pushed you back down on the couch, caging you again.

He started moving inside you, fingers still working magic on your clit.

The time gap wasn't long enough. You still weren't down from the previous high. This wouldn't take much time. He was aware of it. So he started pumping into you like wild, all the while hugging you like a koala with one hand, desperate to find his release once again and give you more.

He thrust with such force, he could feel you breasts jiggling in the very small space between your chests. He loved it.

The ongoing movements with your clit was overwhelming. You closed your eyes again but Bucky called out to you. "Nuh uh, baby. Keep you eyes open." He thrust more wildly. "Wanna see you when you roll in ecstasy around me." With some final intense rubbing to your clit, you came. It triggered his release too.

The fact that he looked intently into your eyes as both of you came somehow had made you come harder.

As you caught your breath, you felt him soften inside you. He kept his forehead on yours, relishing in the aftereffect. He kissed you lovingly on your forehead, and you two lay some more, just enjoying the feel on one another.

Yes, life looked beautiful.

~~~

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#abitchassholiday #bucky fic #bucky barns fic #bucky smut #bucky barns smut #bucky x reader smut #bucky x reader #bucky barns x reader smut #bucky barns x reader #bucky x y/n smut #bucky x you smut #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #bucky barns x you #bucky barns x you smut #bucky barns x y/n #bucky barns x y/n smut #marvel fic #marvel smut #mcu fic #mcu smut #that damn girl writes

[trashmenofmarvel]

Interlude

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: After being separated for months, you take Bucky to Central Park on Christmas Eve to show him all the sights he missed in the last 70 years.

(For @bitchassbucky​ ‘s Holiday Writing Challenge! Thank you!)

Prompt: It’s snowing/raining and my hands are cold, so I’m gonna stuff them inside your jacket pocket.

Warnings: Mild angst, slightly unreliable narrator

Note: This can be read as a standalone or as part of the Devil’s Backbone series.

Word Count: 3k

AO3

The wet pavement crunched under your boots, damp from the snow that had been salted and washed away. Locals and tourists alike were free to traverse the sidewalks without fear of falling and bruising tailbones.

Not that you were in any danger of falling. Bucky had his arm looped around yours so tightly you felt your fingers starting to tingle from lack of circulation.

“We’re fine,” you reassured him for the fifth time since you’d left Stark Tower—or the Avengers Tower, as it was now colloquially called. “No one’s looking, no one cares.”

The unyielding angle of Bucky’s jaw told you he didn’t agree, his blue eyes wide and watchful as he scanned the busy streets for signs of danger.

You gave an impatient, fond huff and pulled him along. You were freezing and you wanted to finish your outing and make it back to the tower before it started snowing. Judging by the grey pregnancy of the low-hanging clouds, you doubted that would be a wish fulfilled.

“This isn’t a good idea,” he grumbled, keeping his head dipped down so his eyes were covered by the rim of his black ball cap. “In fact, it’s a stupid one.”

“We can’t stay cooped up forever,” you said with a gentle nudge of your arm. “And if you hover over Tony much longer he’s going to sic Dum-E on you.”

“Like to see him try,” he muttered under his breath. Despite the gruff and snark he doled out in equal measure, you could feel the tension in his arm ease. You were clinging to the right one, of course, as Bucky insisted he keep his left free and ready for any eventuality.

His paranoia wasn’t completely unfounded. He may have been exonerated, but there were still people out there who had unfinished business with the former Winter Soldier. National governments with grievances against HYDRA and looking for a scapegoat, not to mention surviving cells within the organization. Pierce had been only one head of HYDRA, and the rest were proving difficult to flush out of hiding.

And of course, there was Rumlow. That particular bastard had been hanging over your head like a black cloud ever since he had escaped from the burn unit months earlier.

You shivered, instinctively moving closer to Bucky’s side. He glanced down at you, a frown touching his lips, and he only hesitated a moment before placing his arm around your shoulders.

The warmth of his touch did wonders to chase away the chill that had nothing to do with the wintery air.

The expanse of Central Park soon lay before you, everything coated in white from the bare limbs of the trees to the wide footpaths. Dozens of ice-skaters had already taken to the Wollman Rink. Red and green and blue parkas stood in contrast to the stark landscape, the skaters circling like colorful ducks on a frozen pond.

But it wasn’t the people below you were watching, it was Bucky. The taut muscles of his face had gone lax, his eyes distant and far away with the interlude of memory.

“We used to go skating, me and Becca. Not here, this place didn’t exist, but on the Lake.” He slightly tilted his head, one corner of his mouth turning upward. “Steve was too delicate back then, couldn’t skate with us. Besides, with how many layers he would be wrapped in, he woulda looked like a penguin waddling on the ice.”

When you remained quiet, he flicked his gaze downward and found you already watching him.

“What?” he asked, moving his left gloved hand through his hair in a sheepish gesture.

“Nothing.” The little smile on your face couldn’t seem to disappear, even when you tried to squirrel it away. “Come on.”

You led him down the paths deeper into the park. With the previous day’s snowfall, everything was covered in a gentle blanket of white, looking every bit like you were in the middle of a fairytale.

Bucky had a deeply traumatic relationship with the cold, which was why you checked on him frequently, but his blue eyes were round with delight, not terror, as he took in the sight of the winter wonderland. Something loosened within you and you breathed a little easier, but you were ready to abort the mission at the first hint of panic.

Soon you were at the Carousel, nestled inside a squat brick building. You were relieved to see it was open—not because you thought Bucky would ever go for a ride, but because you wanted to see his reaction to the historical attraction.

As the ride came to a halt and the current riders began to disembark, he edged closer to the edge of the path, his head tilted at that curious angle again as he looked through the snow-covered foliage to the open windows.

“This… this is different. But also familiar? Am I… misremembering this?” He sounded unsure, his brows pulled into deep creases as his lips formed into a pout.

“Nope.” You slightly lifted your chin, unable to keep the slight pride out of your voice. “The carousel you remember burned down in 1950. This one used to be in a trolley terminal in Coney Island until they moved it here in 1951.”

The way his face lit up, his eyes brightening as his eyebrows shot up, made the whole trip worthwhile.

“The West 5th Street Depot! I remember it!” he said, a slow but excited grin blooming on his lips. “I miss those noisy old streetcars. Steve and I used to…” He trailed off, the lightness of his expression slowly vanishing, as if it had never been there to begin with.

“What?” you asked, suddenly afraid you had triggered an unpleasant recollection. You knew strolling down memory lane was a risk, but you’d thought the benefits would have outweighed the negatives. Now, you weren’t so sure.

Bucky turned toward you, but instead of his face being drawn and pale, he wore a self-conscious grimace.

“Here I am, going on and on about the past, when…” He haltered again and teethed at his bottom lip. You knew it was a nervous gesture, but it always made you a little hot under the collar. This time was no exception.

“What?” you prompted, forcibly pulling your gaze up to his eyes. “What is it? Something wrong?”

He shook his head with a rueful pull at his mouth.

“That’s just it.”

Bucky reached down and took your left hand in his right, looping his fingers through yours. The unexpected gesture made your heart sing like a bird.

“Nothing’s wrong.” His eyes softened, and you didn’t miss the flush of his cheeks. “Everything is… good. Too good to be true.”

Clearing your throat, you shook your head and said, “I haven’t even showed you the best part yet.”

His brows rose in a dubious slant. “That right?”

“Mmhmm.” You pulled your bottom lip between your teeth as you smiled. His gaze dropped toward your mouth, and the heat of his stare was enough to melt all of Wollman Rink.

With your hand still in his, you tugged playfully, pulling him after you. “It’s not far!”

Bucky’s lips were pressed into a deliberate line, but the laughter was bright in his eyes, unobscured by troubled memories or moments of self-doubt, and he tagged along after you quite willingly.

It was only when you were within sight of the skating rink that he slowed his pace, forcing you to shorten your own footsteps. You turned back to tease him for being such an old man, but the words died on your lips.

Bucky’s eyes were fixed on the frozen surface. You had been at a safe distance before but were much closer now, and you didn’t think you were imagining the pale shade of his skin.

“No skating,” you said, preemptively and firmly. When he appeared unconvinced, his jaw as tight as a snare, you wrapped your arm around his waist, purposefully pulling his focus to you. It worked; Bucky hard-swallowed but met your gaze, his eyes slightly wide.

“Promise.” You slightly squeezed him against your side. “You’re gonna like this.”

Bucky simply nodded his head, the implicit trust in his eyes more meaningful than any words he could have said.

With a small smile still on your lips and your gloved fingers still intertwined with his, you led him up a curve in the path to a small concession stand. Baby blue wood with painted white trim, it looked like something from a bygone era, much like the man standing next to you.

The smell wafting toward the cart, however, was familiar to you both. By the time you had finished waiting in line and both took your cups of hot cocoa, Bucky had gone red around the ears, no doubt remembering the last time the two of you had shared hot chocolate. The vivid memory forced you to duck your head and focus very closely on your steaming cup.

There were children around for Christ’s sake.

Still without saying a word, you carefully hooked your right arm around his left. Even through the thick fabric of his sleeve, you imagined you could still feel the cold titanium underneath.

Bucky eyed you out of the corner of his vision, his gaze reproachful but immediately forgotten when you pulled him down to sit beside you on a bench cleared of snow.

The view was impeccable, on a slight hill overlooking the rink, and beyond was the tree line with the grey clouds and skyscrapers framing the background. Even in the dreariness you could see the hulking outline of the Avengers Tower, rising and disappearing into the cloud cover like a dream.

“Wow,” Bucky breathed out, capturing your sentiment of the view perfectly. Except you weren’t looking at the skyline.

“Right?”

He turned his head and caught you staring, but all you offered in response to his raised brow was a half-shrug and a mischievous little smile as you tucked back into your cocoa.

As you sat in comfortable silence, just far enough from the rink for the sound of laughter and voices to be muffled and distant, it began to snow. Crisp flakes drifted down, just to immediately melt on the bend of your knee. The soft whiteness of the world around you was a comfort and brought up only fond memories. You wished that were the case for Bucky.

Despite his warm jacket, a tremor ran down his shoulders. You switched the cup to your left hand, and without hesitation, plunged your right deep into his jacket pocket.

Bucky gave a start, opened his mouth, and then closed it promptly when you pulled yourself closer, purposefully melting into the curve of his side.

“It’s snowing, I’m cold, and you don’t need this pocket. Thought I would grab it for myself.” A smirk pulled at your lips and you added, “Unless you want to share.”

Bucky’s deer-in-the-headlights expression would have been funny if it hadn’t tugged at your heartstrings so fiercely.

He brushed the tip of his tongue over his lips—you still couldn’t figure out if he knew the effect it had—and his Adam’s apple plunged as he swallowed.

“All yours.”

His cheeks had a ruddy tinge to them by time he averted his eyes and turned back to his steaming drink.

Despite your teasing, sticking your hand in his pocket and sidling up to him was as far as you were planning to go. It had been a while since… Well, your feelings hadn’t changed, but they might have on his end. Bucky had been on the run for months, and your time together before that could be counted in hours.

A very intense time, as short as it had been. A time when you had gotten to know the Winter Soldier almost as well as you’d gotten to know Bucky Barnes, and you couldn’t lie and say it hadn’t been a hell of a rough beginning.

You could also say you were moving slow for his benefit, and you were, but you also didn’t know how to bridge that divide created by time and distance.

Apparently, Bucky did.

He spoke your name, softly but without any of his previous nervousness. When you turned your head, opening your mouth to respond, he was right there, and you didn’t even have time to blink before his lips were on yours.

They were just as soft as you remembered, a heat behind them that could melt the deepest snows.

Hot cocoa forgotten, you parted your lips, an invitation, as you curled your fingers into his long hair.

Bucky’s strong arms were around your waist in a second, pulling you closer and lifting you into his lap. Your fingers tightened in his hair and he groaned low in his throat.

You didn’t care who saw, you’d let Bucky do whatever he wanted to you, right here in front of New York and God and whoever else wanted to watch because you needed him like you needed air, and it had been so long—

“Agent Williams?”

No, no, not now.

“Are you awake, Agent?”

No! Go away!

You rolled over onto your side, giving a frustrated groan into your pillow.

“Ah, good. Mister Stark wishes to know if you’ll be down soon. Shall I inform him that was a yes? Or a no?”

You mumbled into your pillow and realized the AI probably couldn’t understand your resentful utterances. “What time is it?”

“It’s eight thirty-six, ma’am,” Jarvis answered succinctly.

You gave another pained groan. It wasn’t his fault Tony couldn’t contain himself like a kid on Christmas… oh.

“God, right, I’ll be down in a sec.” You rubbed at your face as you pulled yourself into a sitting position. The dream clung to you like smoke and you couldn’t seem to shake it off.

“Mister Stark says, ‘If she’s not down in five minutes I’m gonna have Dum-E tear open all her presents.’ I believe he’s being serious.”

“I’m sure he is,” you answered with a tired sigh.

You got dressed while on autopilot, your thoughts drifting far away as you stared out the window at the grey morning light. It was snowing again, and a deep ache settled in your chest at the memory of snow settling into Bucky’s hair.

No, not a memory. A dream, but one so unfairly clear because it was based on a memory. You had gone through the same motions the day before… with Steve.

Not the handholding or the flirting (or God forbid, the kissing), but you had taken him to Central Park in hopes of showing him everything that had changed since he’d been there in the 40’s.

The difference between Steve and dream-Bucky’s reactions had been startlingly different. Steve had still told the story about how Bucky and his sister had skated on the lake while he had to be on the sidelines. He too had also recognized the old carousel from the trolley station.

That was where the similarities ended. Bucky’s tense vigilance had been absent from Steve’s face. Bucky’s aversion of the rink had also been fabricated in your mind; Steve hadn’t seemed to care at all, even though he too had been frozen in ice for a long, long time.

The outing with Steve had been enjoyable, especially when Sam and Nat had joined you later that evening to see the Christmas lights strung around the park, but you had never stopped thinking about the person who wasn’t there.

Even then, even when it had been eleven months since the events in D.C. and the last time you’d seen Bucky, you still looked for his face in the crowd and felt his absence in the hollow space beside you.

It had grown worse when you’d passed by the concession cart selling hot cocoa, the familiar rich sent sending you back to the safe house where you’d hidden with the man who had broken you free of HYDRA’s captivity. Bucky had only just started to emerge from the chilling persona of the Winter Soldier, and the scent of hot cocoa had been one of his first memories of his previous life as James Buchanan Barnes.

Steve had caught the pause in your step, noted the faraway look on your face, and had asked if you wanted to stop for some. You’d quickly shaken your head and moved on. It was stupid, really stupid, but you didn’t want to share that with anyone else. Not even the man who had been Bucky’s closest friend.

Eleven months with not a single sign. You’d figured out long before now that if he didn’t want to be found, he wouldn’t be. It made his absence hurt all the more.

You picked up your phone and scrolled through your messages as you did every morning. No strange or unknown numbers, just a few messages from the people waiting for you a few floors above in the common room.

T. Stark: You up yet? Im going to turn on the fire suppression system in your room

T. Stark: come on no one needs more than 6 hours of sleep get up

T. Stark: Im serious Williams your shit is my shit if you dont come up in 5

S. Rogers: Don’t worry about Tony. Take your time.

S. Wilson: Please save me from these man children

An amused smile crossed your lips before you could stop it.

There was one last message. There weren’t any words, only a single picture. Chocolate chip pancakes stacked ridiculously high, slathered in syrup and topped with sliced bananas.

You stomach immediately rumbled; Nat knew you so well.

You put your phone into your pocket, the smile slowly falling from your face. This was the first time you’d spent the holidays with people who treated you like… well, like a real family.

There was only one thing missing, and no matter how hard they tried, no one could fill the void he had left behind.

Someday, you told yourself as you left your room and crossed the hall to the elevator.

Someday, it won’t be a dream.

#abitchassholiday #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes #the winter soldier x reader #devil's backbone #interlude #my writing #my fanfiction #reader fanfiction #angst #not much but it hurts #im really really sorry #just really sorry

[honeyvbarnes]

Please Come Home for Christmas

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Prompt: It’s snowing/raining and my hands are cold, so I’m gonna stuff them inside your  jacket pocket.

Summary: Your boyfriend promised you’d be home for Christmas but things don’t go as planned.

Warnings: *Limited Edition Holiday Fluff*. Language??

A/N: This is for @bitchassbucky ’s Holiday Writing Challenge! #abitchassholiday I’ve had my favorite Christmas song on repeat for about two weeks now and this is what came from it :-) Please Come Home for Christmas -Eagles. This is also my first time writing for Steve! I love him ALMOST as much as I love Bucky. Enjoy! (Italics are the lyrics being sung)

// feedback is very much appreciated //

.

“Bells will be ringin’ the sad, sad news”

“Sweetheart, please don’t do this.”

The snow is coming down pretty hard now, your eyelashes are starting to gather snowflakes.

“Well, Darling you promised we’d be done with this mission BEFORE Christmas. Oh what a Christmas to have the blues.” You continue to sing.

You and Steve had volunteered for a last minute mission just a couple of days before Christmas. It was a small intel mission and he swore that it would only take two to three days. Yet here you are, dragging your tired bodies through five inch snow, on Christmas freakin’ eve. The mission was to infiltrate an “abandoned” Hydra bunker in Siberia, you and Steve were to hide out in a cabin safe house a good ten miles north of the bunker. Simple enough, until the two of you discovered the bunker was very much not abandoned and had to camp out a couple of days to come up with a game plan. In the end you successfully retrieved all the information needed, but the two of you escaped with a good amount of cuts and bruises. You may or may not have a beautiful black eye forming and it’s starting to sting in the crisp snow breeze.

“Baby I-“

“No Steve, I wouldn’t be this cranky if you didn’t launch our motorcycle at those Hydra assholes! It’s fucking freezing and I don’t have the luxury of super soldier serum coursing through my veins to keep me warm! Baby’s gone, I have no friends to wish me greetings, once again.”

You pull at your coat, snuggling further into the fur collar trapping in all the body heat you can. The singing is mostly to annoy Steve, but also to keep warm. He knows Christmas is your absolute favorite holiday. Hell, your pretty sure the whole world knows it. You missed out on the gift wrapping sessions with Natasha, the snowball fights with Sam and Bucky, but you’re especially upset about not getting to bake the dozens upon dozens of gingerbread men with Wanda. It’s Christmas Eve and you miss your family.

“Please Y/N, I said I was sorry.” He pleads in a tone you can’t quite decipher. You abruptly stop treading and turn to face him, in which he accidentally bumps into you but quickly recovers by holding you close to his chest.

“I just miss home Steve, I want to go home, and I don’t want to be here for Christmas.”

“Choirs will be singing Silent Night, Christmas carols by candle light.” Steve starts to softly sing, and starts to sway back and forth. The snow is lighter now but its still below freezing.

And at that, you really can’t help but tear up. You know it’s not Steves fault the mission ran longer than expected, you’re just frustrated and cold.

Looking up, he cups your cheek with one gloved hand. The tears in your eyes escape, but he brushes them away. You both seem to sport the same goofy smile, because you’re literally singing and dancing in the middle of a forest.

“It’s snowing, and my hands are cold. I’m gonna stuff them in your jacket pocket. Please come home for Christmas.”

Steve lets out a hearty laugh, “Anything for you princess. Please come home for Christmas.”

“Anything?” You ask with the raise of a brow.

“Anything. If not for Christmas, by New Year’s night.” He ends with a kiss to your forehead.

You convince Steve to carry you on his back the remaining three miles back to the cabin. The whole way back is filled with laughter and more singing.

“Friends and relations, send salutations!”

“Sure as the stars shine above.”

“But this is Christmas.” You breathe out the lyrics before your brain can tell you to shut up. As you and Steve reach only a couple of feet away from the cabin you realize that the lights are on and smoke is flowing from the chimney. Before Steve can say another word you swiftly kick at the back of his knee, which sends both of you to the ground. Quick as lighting, you are kneeled over him with a rifle out and loaded.

“Y/N-“

“Shhh! We’ve been compromised. I’ll go west of the cabin and you go-“

Steve then stands and places a hand on your arm to lower your weapon. “Yes, Christmas, my dear. It’s the time of year to be with the ones you love.”

As he finishes the lyrics you stare at him in confusion, but then you hear the front door of the cabin open. Your heart swells at the sight. Natasha, Sam, Bucky, and Wanda emerge from the cozy home, all wearing the sweaters you had knitted them last holiday season. You then catch the sweet smell of a home cooked meal and gingerbread. You look back at Steve.

“Merry Christmas Sweetheart. I told you we’d be home in time.”

#steve rogers #captain america #abitchassholiday #honeyvbarnes #marvel fic #marvel #steve rogers x reader

[atsixesandcevans]

Cutting it Close

Summary: The Grind, the coffee shop you work at, is the only one in the area that is open late. When Steve literally bursts in on the last night of the semester, neither of you have any idea just how good a decision that would turn out to be.

Pairing: Steve Rogers/Reader

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings: none

A/N: I’m sorry this is SO late, I’ve been swamped with work so getting his out was way more difficult than it should have been! this was written as part of @bitchassbucky​‘s holiday writing challenge, with the prompt ‘college au,’ though it kinda turned into a college/coffee shop au hybrid hahaha

as always, feedback is appreciated, and feel free to send me an ask if you’d like to be tagged in any of my future works!

(this is not proofread so I apologise for any mistakes)

Read on AO3

The recent snowfall left a thin white blanket across the pavement and parked cars out on the street, illuminated only by warm streetlamps and the intermittent flickering of fairy lights in the shop window.

The Grind coffee shop, as well as the street on which it sat, was unusually quiet for a Friday night, especially at the end of the semester when students would come in, taking shelter from the cold and making the most of the café’s free wifi and late opening times, to frantically study for tests and write papers that were due any day now.

Tonight, though, offered you a welcome break from your typical duties when you worked the late shift. For the past week or so, chatter of a big, end-of-semester-slash-Christmas party at one of the frat houses had been spreading quickly amongst the customers and gave the majority all the more reason to get their work done on time.

You were silently glad that you had been scheduled to work tonight. While you had enjoyed frat parties when you first started college – the excitement at your first taste of real freedom only adding to your enjoyment – by the time you started senior year, those parties started to get old. Your friends liked to call you boring because of it, but you found that you’d much rather spend your Friday nights watching Netflix with a pizza than drinking cheap beer and watching freshmen make out with each other in any available room in the house.

It had been almost an hour since your last customer left for the night, and with two hours of your shift left, you had pulled a textbook from your bag with every intention of getting ahead on some reading for next semester. Instead, though, you found yourself easily distracted, reading he same paragraph at least five times with none of the information actually sinking in.

You pressed your fingers to your closed eyes, willing yourself to just concentrate for five minutes, and were just about to read the paragraph for the sixth time when the bell above the door rang, a gust of cold air sending a chill over you that was quickly eradicated by the warmth coming from the heater behind the counter. Your head snapped up in the direction of the customer, your eyes falling upon the strong frame of Steve, the one from your history class who always had something insightful to say. You’d always liked him; aside from being insanely attractive, he was also smart in a quiet kind of way, never arrogant when he got a question right, and you often watched him blush and glance down in embarrassment when the professor praised him on his insight.

You’d never spoken to him directly, but you smiled at each other when you passed in the hallways, and even at 9am on a Monday he always looked put-together, a stark contrast to the jeans and sweaters that had become your staple outfit for class.

Tonight, though, he looked flustered, laptop tucked under one arm, blond hair dishevelled, like he’d been running his hands through it, dark circles beginning to form under his eyes.

He barely spared you a glance before hurrying over to a table, not even stopping to take off his jacket before he had the laptop sat open on the table. You heard him mutter “come on, come on,” as he moved his finger frantically over the mousepad, clicking a few times before he released a heavy breath, a mutter of “oh, thanks god” slipping past his lips whilst he shrugged out of his jacket, almost immediately typing furiously at the keyboard.

You found yourself frozen on the spot, unsure of what to do. You had the urge to go over and ask if he needed anything – or just whether he was okay – but reminded yourself that occurrences like this weren’t uncommon for you; The Grind was the only coffee shop open so late that also had the added bonus of free wifi that actually works, so students entering in a frantic rush to finish and submit their assignments was typical, especially so late in the semester.

This guy, though… this guy was cutting it close.

After arguing with yourself for several minutes, you decided to leave him to it figuring that he probably just wanted to concentrate of whatever it was he was doing. You settled back in your stool, going back to reading, though you glanced up at Steve every now and then, his expression a little less stressed each time you did. Forty minutes or so after he arrived, the sound of typing stopped, causing you to look up. Steve continued to gaze intently at the screen, eyes moving quickly back and forth across the screen for several minutes, before he clicked a few times and breathed a heaving sigh, closing his laptop and rubbing at his eyes.

You watched as he stretched his arms above his head, a quiet groan escaping his lips. The action caused his tshirt to rise a little, revealing just a couple of inches of skin, the sight of his taught stomach and smattering of dark hair causing heat to rise up the back of your neck and you quickly tore your eyes away, quietly clearing your throat. The sound of your cough alerted him to your presence and his gaze flicked up to meet yours as his arms dropped, cheeks flushing pink in embarrassment.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry, that was so rude of me.” He was bashful as he spoke, his voice soft and warm as melted chocolate in the stillness of the café, and you found yourself immediately desperate to hear it again.

You smiled at him warmly, placing your book down on the counter and shook your head a little, lightly scratching at the side of your nose in a nervous habit. “Don’t worry about it.”

A flash of recognition seemed to cross his face and he asked, “you’re Y/N, right? From Professor Hill’s history class?”

“That’s me. And you’re Steve.” You had intended for it to sound like a question, but it came out as a statement, and you only prayed that he wasn’t creeped out by the fact that you already knew his name. He nodded his agreement with a smile, and you breathed a tiny sigh of relief that he didn’t seem suspicious, as he rested his forearms on the table, and you had to fight to keep your eyes on his face instead of the way the position made his tshirt hug his biceps. You cleared your throat again, attempting to rid your mind of the images it was suddenly conjuring. “Uh, do you want a coffee or something? I would have offered you one sooner, but you seemed pretty busy, so…” you trailed off with a small shrug, earning a soft chuckle from Steve.

“Yeah, sorry about that. I tend to tune everything out when I’m focused on something. But, I’d love a coffee…” he paused, almost as if contemplating with himself before continuing, “provided you join me?” His voice was shy, hopeful, and god if it didn’t make something swell in your chest.

You were taken aback by his request, but warmth spread through you at the sight of his bashful smile and you nodded in agreement before you turned and quickly made the drinks.

When you placed the mugs down on the table and moved to sit in the seat opposite Steve, you asked the question that had been playing on your mind for the past hour. “So… what brings you to The Grind at nine o’clock on a Friday night, especially on the night of the big end-of-semester party?” Your voice was teasing, though you were genuinely curious, despite being fairly certain you already knew the answer.

Steve laughed, mirroring your tone. “Are you kidding? Who wouldn’t want to spend the last night of the semester in a near-empty coffee shop finishing a paper that’s due in…” he lifted his wrist to check his watch, “two and a half hours?” You laughed at this, and he quickly joined in, the sound deep and warm. “The internet’s painfully slow at my apartment right now, and I really needed somewhere to finish and submit this assignment and thank god you were here.” You smiled at him humorously, taking a sip of your drink.

Conversation flowed after that, talking with ease about anything and everything; how you felt about your history class, plans for the holidays, what you’re currently binging on Netflix.

Time seemed to fly by, and before long it was time to close the shop. You expected Steve to head off but, to your surprise, he stayed with you, even helping you with the few small cleaning jobs you had to do before you went home. He even insisted on walking you home, claiming he lived only a few blocks away from your apartment, and you quickly agreed, not wanting the night to end just yet.

You talked and laughed the whole walk back, feeling an ease around Steve that you hadn’t felt with anyone else, and you were surprised by just how heavily the disappointment sat in your stomach when you arrived outside your apartment building.

You both slowed to a stop, suddenly shy again, neither wanting to say goodnight. Steve shifted his laptop under his arm, glancing around nervously. He cleared his throat nervously, his free hand coming to rub at the back of his neck. “I, uh- I don’t suppose you’d want to get dinner with me sometime, would you?”

Nodding, you bit your lip with a smile, shifting your bag where hit hung from your shoulder. “Yeah, I’d really like that.” Steve let out a relieved chuckle, and you quickly swapped numbers and bid each other goodnight with matching grins, something new and wonderful floating between you, a promise of more to come and the start of something remarkable.

#abitchassholiday #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers/reader #steve rogers/you #Steve Rogers #captain america #mcu #marvel #marvel cinematic universe #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers fanfiction #captain america fanfic #captain america fanfiction #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction #beth writes

[buckyownsmyheart]

Sorry To Drop In [2/2]

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Words: 1.8k (sorry, it’s a short one)

Summary: After ignoring the handsome super-soldier that fell into your life, you run into him again and have to answer for your avoiding behaviours.

Warnings: Maybe a little bit of PDA and implications of sex, but just holiday fluff from me

A/N: I’m just feeling the Christmas spirit already, sorry not sorry… this is for @bitchassbucky​ ‘s #abitchassholiday challenge! thanks for letting me take part (and congrats!) my prompt was: “Truth or dare?” // “Dare.” // “I dare you to sit on Santa’s lap” I know it’s right at the end but it inspired this little piece!! 

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

Previous part

It wasn’t that you hadn’t called Bucky on purpose, you just hadn’t quite gotten around to it. You were busy, you kept telling yourself, busy and had no time for a relationship. The truth was, you would often stare at his loopy scrawl, his number dialled in your phone and finger hovering over the call button, before locking your phone and throwing it across the room. It turns out you lack the confidence needed to call a super-soldier.

The other nurses had long since forgotten about the mystery intruder in your life, even if he persisted in your mind. That was until Rachel wrenched open the curtain in the A&E room and gave you a meaningful look, she needed to talk to you ASAP. Finishing up your sutures and apologising profusely to the lady for the disruption, you hurried out to try and meet Rachel and see what she wanted, fearing it was something bad. When you reached her at the nurses’ station, she pointed over to one of the beds on the other side of the room and squealed with excitement.

He was sitting in his bed, playing peek-a-boo with a baby in the bed next door. His hair was a little shorter than last time, a slight scruff on his neck but his eyes as bright as they had ever been. You watched him for a while, as entranced as the baby as he wiggled his fingers towards the child’s outstretched hands. He must have felt both you and Rachel’s eyes on him as he turned around, sending you a little wave and a small smile, before turning his attention back to the babbling baby.

“What’s he in for? I thought the Avengers have all the facilities anyone could ever want?”

“Complaining of a stomach ache, think it might be tropical diseases but I think you should do an examination.”

“Have you paged the consultant? Or another doctor available?”

“Didn’t want to bother them when I know you’re so capable.”

You gave her a look over your shoulder and breathed, “twat,” before turning to the bed, taking a deep breath, and walking over to his cubicle.

He gave you another smile as you approached, before awkwardly sitting further onto the couch. You drew the curtains around him to give a bit of privacy, and you give your hands something to do to try and stop them shaking. 

“Um…” Bucky started, but before he could continue you cut him off, not wanting to prolong the awkwardness any longer. It didn’t help that he looked even better than the last time you saw him a few months ago. I guess nearly bleeding out wasn’t always a good look.

“Please can you take off your shirt for me?” You tried to ignore the heat rising in your cheeks. You were a professional! “When did the pain start?”

“This morning, it woke me up. It’s worse when I move.”

You pressed on his abdomen, but it was difficult trying to find your landmarks when the man was pure muscle.

“Okay, so here’s the thing…” He began again, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. When you looked up at him inquiringly, he cast his eyes down and worried his lip. “I may have made it up.”

“What?!” 

“I, uh, well the thing is I wanted to see you, but I didn’t want to show up at your door unannounced, because I thought that would be weird, so I asked Tony to look into your shift times and, well, now I realise that it’s really creepy and saying it out loud really stupid so I’d like to apologise and I’m just going to leave. I’m sorry, I really didn’t think this through and I probably should have taken the hint when you didn’t call me.” He pulled on his shirt and leapt for the exit so quickly you almost missed him.

“Wait, I get off in half an hour, I think I at least owe you an explanation.”

--

The rest of your shift was a blur, and all the while you racked your brains for what on earth you could say to Bucky that would make things better. You didn’t have an excuse and couldn’t think of one for the life of you. 

As you walked out the sliding doors, snowflakes settled on your coat and melted on your exposed face. You weren’t more than two steps out of the hospital before you were met with the sight of Bucky holding two steaming cups and wearing a nervous smile.

“Do you want hot chocolate? I was going to get coffee but I wasn’t sure if you liked it, and well everyone likes hot chocolate, unless you don’t which is absolutely fine, I can have both of these no problem!”

“Thank you, Bucky, that was really sweet of you.” You took the cup from him and inhaled, the sweet smell warming you without having taken a sip. “I’m sorry I didn’t call, I just got caught up in things and I know that’s not a very good excuse, but maybe I could make it up to you?”

“Really? You want to?”

“Yes! I most definitely I do, promise. How do you feel like Christmas shopping?”

“On Christmas eve?”

“Yeah,”

“In the mall?”

“Yeah,”

“Where it’s absolutely packed full of people and you don’t have an inch of room to move around in?”

You winced, “yeah…”

“Pretty terribly, I’ll be honest. But I guess there could be worse things?”

“I��m sorry I need to get one thing and we’ll be straight out of there, I’m useless and forward planning isn’t on my list of expertise.”

“Let’s go, they do great cookies there and I’ve been craving them for ages.”

“Really? Oh, thank you so much, you’re a lifesaver!”

“It is in the job description,” he laughed and fell in step beside you, close enough that you could smell the peppermint in his hot chocolate. “What is on your list of expertise then?”

“I’ve never lost a game of truth or dare,” you shrugged.

“That seems like a challenge.” Bucky wiggled his eyebrows at you, and took a lengthy sip of his hot chocolate.

“You’re going to regret this," you laughed, shoving his shoulder playfully, "truth or dare?”

“We’re doing this? Okay, I’ll start easy, truth.”

You pondered which question to ask him. You didn’t know him, so you thought you couldn’t go all out yet. You deliberated a few, and as the warmth of the mall hit you, you spoke over the hum of people. “If you could sleep with any of the Avengers, which one would you choose?”

He scoffed, “Easy, Steve. I’ve known him the longest and I mean he’s also a super-soldier, so would certainly go for a round or two.”

You burst out laughing, clutching your stomach and laughing at his complete lack of hesitancy. Maybe, just maybe, he would be a worthy opponent of truth and dare.

“Okay, okay, I’ll give you that one,” you said to him, still laughing, “give me a truth then if that was so easy.”

“Hmm,” he pondered, grabbing your hand and pulling you into the queue for ‘World Famous Christmas Cookies’, and putting on a fake thinking face. “What was the real reason you didn’t call me?”

“Oh, straight in there, huh!” You turned to him and squeezed his hand, not wanting him to let go just yet, “I didn’t have the balls, thought you were too good for me.” You shrugged, trying to play it off as nothing and looked down at your cup as you took another sip.

“Really?” His eyebrows were raised and his eyes wide, “you thought you weren’t good enough for me? You know the game’s called Truth or dare right?”

“That is the truth!” You paused whilst Bucky chose some cookies for you both, giving you time for the redness in your cheeks to fade. “Come on, it’s your turn, truth or dare?”

“Dare, let’s up this game.”

At that point, the bustle of people seemed to surge, whether it was a sale or just people being people, they shoved you into Bucky, who caught you, pulling you into safety along the wall. This did, however, mean you were pressed against each other, one of his hands was placed on your hips and the other trying to protect you from the swarm of incessant shoppers. His eyes locked with yours, and all you could focus on was the feel of him pressed against you, and the fact that your faces were inches from each other. Your chocolate breath mixed with his, and his cinnamon smell encircling you, making you feel as if you were in your own little world. Looking down at his lips, his tongue darted out to wet them, and you couldn’t help yourself.

“I dare you to kiss me,” 

“I thought you’d never ask.”

And his lips were on yours, one hand keeping you close and the other tipping your head up to him so he could get a better angle. He tasted of peppermint, chocolate and warmth. You were absolutely lost to the outside world, in a moment of bliss. This was prematurely disrupted by another shove from a delightful passer-by, and you broke away, feeling a little abashed by your slightly public display of affection, but a little giddy as Bucky rested his forehead on yours.

“This is why people suck,” he mumbled to you.

“Why on earth did you take me here on Christmas Eve? Honestly, have some forward planning!”

He looked at you, astounded, before shaking his head and pulling you under his arm. “Come on, let’s get your present quickly, it seems these people haven’t got the memo about Christmas spirit.” He suddenly stopped, and looked down at you, “Hey, (Y/n), truth or dare?”

“Dare,” you answered without thinking, hoping it might end in a kiss again.

“I dare you to sit on Santa’s lap.”

“You want me on Santa’s lap? You can’t think of a better persons lap where I should be?”

Bucky flushed a deep shade of red, and his arm tightened around your shoulder’s. “Well, I mean, I, uh-” He stuttered out, before giving a cough and swallowing thickly, “don’t you have a present to get?”

“Nope! I was just trying to suss you out. Come on, let’s get out of this dreadful place.” And you tugged him away, leaving the craze of people behind you for somewhere a little more private.

#abitchassholiday #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky x y/n #bucky x you #sorry to drop in #b.b fanfic

[bitchassbucky]

Welcome to Bitchassbucky’s Holiday Writing Challenge!

Please follow the guidelines and enjoy!

GUIDELINES:

✨ send me an ask with the prompt and the character you’re going for! (two people can take the same prompt as long as it’s not the same character!)

✨ tag me @bitchassbucky and use #abitchassholiday to tag your entries!

✨ if your entry is going to be longer than 400 words, please use the keep reading tool!

✨ this writing challenge is open to ALL MCU CHARACTERS! Reader inserts only, please.

✨ use proper warnings and tags (e.g if your entry is smut, please tag it as such.) also, no dubcon/noncon, no underage smut, no incest, etc. please!

✨ one-shots, series, drabbles, etc. are ALL WELCOMED!

✨ deadline: december 10th! but if you need more time, that’s okay! just send me an ask, and tag me and post it whenever you can!)

Check out the official entries masterlist here! (updated as of 10 December)

Scene Prompts

1. It’s snowing/raining and my hands are cold, so I’m gonna stuff them inside your jacket pocket. (for bucky, @trashmenofmarvel) (for steve, @honeyvbarnes)

2. I told you to bring a scarf but you wouldn’t listen and now it’s kinda chilly and you’re guilt-tripping me into giving you my scarf but JOKE’S ON YOU, WE’RE SHARING THIS ONE. (for bucky, @ellen-reincarnated1967)

3. Come with me and let’s steal those mistletoes because I heard they’re going to force us to kiss under one. (for bucky, @mrsalh32611)

4. There are fireworks and we’re a little bit tipsy and I’m trying so hard not to kiss you silly right now. (for clint, @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan)

5. I accidentally ordered a ton of string lights and I can’t possibly hang them all in my room, would you like to help me redecorate the common living area? (for wanda, @dianadov)

6. I’m dressed as Santa Clause, you’re dressed as Mrs. Clause, can we go to this party as a couple?

7. I know you love Christmas so much but PLEASE STOP SINGING THAT SONG. (for bucky, @averyrogers83)

8. For the love of God, stop using my tinsel as a boa scarf. (for bucky, @that-damn-girl)

Dialogue Prompts

1. “Let’s watch corny holiday movies and make out.” // “You take that back! I love those movies.” (for bucky, @captain-rogers-beard)

2. “You’re cute but we gotta talk about your Grinch obsession.” (for bucky, @xbuchananbarnes)

3. “I love everything about you and especially that hideous sweater.” // “Would it look better on your floor then?” (for steve,  @mrsalh32611)

4. “Truth or dare?” // “Dare.” // “I dare you to sit on Santa’s lap.” (for bucky, @buckyownsmyheart)

5. “When did you learn how to figure skate?” // “I dunno.” // (for bucky, @the-omni-princess)

6. “We ARE NOT putting up baby Grinch on the mantel.” (for steve, @xetoilerouge) (for bucky, @sebbbystaaan)

7. “You guys need to stop bickering so much, we’re about to pose for the Christmas card.” (for the avengers, @katsen13)

8. “Where’s the carrot? This snowman doesn’t have a nose.” // “Oh, so that’s what the carrot is for!” (for bucky, @cake-writes)

9. “I’m gonna shove a handful of snow down your back now.” (for bucky, @buckybarnes-xyou)

AU Prompts

1. College AU (for steve, @beth-writes-things)

2. Neighbors AU (for bucky, @annavega333)

3. Friends to Lovers AU

4. Enemies to Lovers AU

5. Roommate AU (for bucky, @asadmarveltrashbag)

6. Library AU (for bucky, @sugarfreecapsicle)

7. Soulmate AU  (for bucky, @shakespeareanqueer)

8. Bookshop AU (for steve, @jewelswrites-ish)

9. Social Media AU

10. Coffee shop AU (for steve, @captain-kelli)

#kaye hits 700! #abitchassholiday #bitchassbucky #bucky x reader #writing challenge

[averyrogers83writes]

Last Christmas

Title: Last Christmas (Dec 9)  Author: @averyrogers83 Warnings: fluff Word Count: Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Reader Prompt: I Know you love Christmas so much, but PLEASE STOP SINGING THAT SONG! A/N: Drabble for @thefanficfaerie OTP Christmas Challenge and @bitchassbucky #abitchassholiday challenge

It was no secret that you loved this time of year.  Next to Halloween, Christmas was your favorite holiday, decorating, the smell of peppermint, cinnamon, and apple spice, presents, and the music.  Most importantly though you loved this time of year because it meant spending time with your family and friends.  

As you put the finishing touches on the decorating one of your favorite songs began to play and you sang along

Last Christmas, I gave you my heart

But the very next day, you gave it away

Well, this year, to save me from tears

I’ll give it to someone special

You didn’t care who heard you, or if you were off key, you just kept singing.

Once bitten and twice shy 

I keep my distance but you still catch my eye

Well it’s been a year, it doesn’t surprise me 

(Merry Christmas!) I wrapped it up and sent it 

With a note saying “I Love You” I meant it

Now I know what a fool I’ve been 

But if you kissed me now I know you’d fool me again. 

Every time Bucky saw you, you were singing that song, it started to get stuck in his head.  He found himself humming the melody as he took a shower, when he worked on his bike, hell he even heard the damn song in his sleep.  When he sat down and really listened to the song he began to tear up.  

A crowded room, friends with tired eyes

I’m hiding from you and your soul of ice

My God I thought you were someone to rely on

Me? I guess I was a shoulder to cry on

A face on a lover with a fire in her heart

A man undercover but you tore me apart

Now I’ve found a real love, you’ll never fool me again coz

“How could this be one of her favorite songs,” he thought, it had a sad message to it and he would never understand why you insisted on singing along to it at the top of your lungs over and over again.  

When Sam caught him tearing up when the song came on the radio.  Bucky tried to play it off, but Sam was relentless in his teasing.  When he came home that night and found you once again playing that song he had to put a stop to it. 

“Damn it Y/N,  I Know you love Christmas so much, but PLEASE STOP SINGING THAT SONG!”  you jumped when you heard Bucky yell at you and you almost got mad, but when you see the look on his face you immediately turned the song off and walked closer to him to give him a big hug.  From then on you banned yourself from ever playing “Last Christmas” around Bucky again.

@thefanficfaerie @bitchassbucky @patzammit @chuuulip @buckysforeverprincess @hotoffthepressfics @ellaprime68 @drakelover78 @mychemicalimagines @shield-agent78

#thefanficfaerie #otpchristmaschallenge #bucky barnes x reader #abitchassholiday

[dianadov]

Lights

Pairing: Wanda x Reader

Warnings: none

Word count: 575

Prompt:  I accidentally ordered a ton of string lights and I can’t possibly hang them all in my room, would you like to help me redecorate the common living area?

A/N: So, this is basically a ton of fluff. I’ve written it for @bitchassbucky​ holiday writing challenge and yeah, I hope you like it.

Huge thanks to @agentpeggybarnes​ for beta-ing, you’re amazing!

Friday's voice sounded through your room

"Miss Y/L/N, your package has arrived. Should someone bring it to your floor or will you come and get it by yourself?"

Oh! The lights for your room! "Thank you, Friday! I'll go get the package myself." You've been waiting for this package for forever. You actually already made a plan of how you'll put them up in your room. The elevator couldn't be slower as your excited mind was jumping from one thought to another. Maybe you should ask Wanda if she wants to help you decorate your room?

As the door of the elevator finally opened, you looked for one of the workers to show you your package. 

"Hi! Hello! Sorry to bother you. Friday said there was a package for me here? For Y/N Y/L/N?"

The workers face immediately brightened in understanding: "Oh yes, of course. You'll need help carrying the boxes though,"

Wait, what? The boxes? As in, several boxes? You only ordered one package? At least you think you did. As you saw the pile of five or six boxes, you seemed to remember the mistake you made.

You borrowed a cart to bring all of the lights upstairs. One will definitely be enough for your room. But what can you do with the rest of them? Maybe one of the other Avengers wants some? Or! An even better idea crossed your mind. You could decorate the communal floor of the tower.

"Friday?"

"Yes, miss Y/L/N?"

"Could you maybe ask the rest of the Avengers if it's cool with them if I decorate the living room and everything else on the communal floor?"

"Absolutely, miss." A few minutes later her voice sounded again: "Miss, they are all okay with it." Okay, great. Then you decided something. You went to Wanda's floor and knocked on her door.

"Hi, Wanda. Umm, so, I accidentally ordered too many light strings, as you've probably heard and I was wondering if maybe you'd want to help me decorate the living room? But like, only if you want, you know?"

"Oh yeah, I'd love that! I'll be right down," she assured you.

"Sorry that it took so long! So, where do we want to start?", Wanda's voice sounded through the room.

"Well, I was thinking we would first put them around the windows and then maybe around the pictures and stuff?"

She smiled that beautiful smile of hers that makes your knees go weak. "I think that's perfect. You want to listen to some music while working?"

"Sure. Friday? Could you please turn on the Christmas playlist?" Immediately music started playing in the background and the mood was amazing. You two were working hard for like half an hour when you slipped off the ladder and practically landed in her arms. She looked surprised, but glad and a blush crept up your neck as you looked in her eyes. 

Slowly you raised your head to hers and pressed your lips to hers. At the first moment she didn't respond, but then Wanda deepened the kiss. You climbed out of her lap and she put her arms around your hips, never letting go.

As you had to break away for air, you leaned your forehead against hers and whispered: "I've actually wanted to that for a long time." In response, she only smiled and kissed you again, the decorating of the living room forgotten.

#abitchassholiday #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff

[shakespeareanqueer]

Miracle of Lights (Chanukah one-shot)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Jewish!Avengers!Reader

Summary: Bucky Barnes has a soul-mate... somewhere. It’s Chanukah at the compound. 

Word Count: 1,684 words

Masterlist

Contents: Soulmates AU. Pretty much just fluff. Mentions of Bucky’s past.

A/N: This is for @bitchassbucky​‘s Holiday Writing Challenge! My prompt was Soulmates AU. I had a lot of fun writing it! I love bringing Chanukah stories into the mass of Christmas stories that float around this time of year. Sorry this is about 2 hours over the deadline!

Image by saraisthebest from Pixabay 

Soulmates are rare, but their mere existence has flooded culture. For those lucky enough to have one, the first words you’ll hear your soulmate say are tattooed somewhere on your arm from birth. For this reason, as synthetic tattoos have become more popular and widely accepted, the first words one’s spouse or partner said somewhere on one’s arm is a popular choice for those who were not Chosen, which is most people. But these are but artificial replications. When spoken, the words on a true soulmate mark supposedly glow, but Bucky had never seen it in person.

He never understood this soulmate business at all. He was born with a tattoo-like mark on this inside of his left arm, as was fairly typical for those blessed with a soulmate. The fact that the letters were light brown instead of pitch black meant that his soulmate had yet to be born. There was nothing unusual about that; many men married women who were two, five, even ten years younger than they.

But as he got older, the mark never darkened. When he turned fifteen, he started insisting that the light brown shade couldn’t possibly mean what everyone said it meant. He would never rob the cradle like that. It must just mean they were far away geographically… or something.

He loved flirting with women, taking them out, but was never one for settling down. The soulmate mark was a convenient way to let them off easy. But it also meant that every time he really liked someone, and hoped and prayed they were the one, and they weren’t, he was disappointed. And every time he got to know someone, began to love them, to fall in love with them, already knowing it wasn’t meant to be, it broke this heart to let them down.  

As Bucky fell from the train, three thoughts ran through his mind. 1) Who’s gonna look after his baby sister Becca? 2) Who’s gonna look after Stevie? 3) He never got to meet his soulmate.

When Hydra found his body, they were dismayed to find the unusual markings. It would be an obstacle to their goal of creating a soulless killing machine for the subject to be constantly reminded of his connection to humanity, a reason to live, to fight, to be free. Wouldn’t do. So despite the injured left arm being likely salvageable, they just hacked it off.

To their horror, the soulmate mark had merely re-materialized on the skin of his right arm by the next morning.

Like his mind, they wiped it clean every so often. It took much experimentation, but they finally found a bleach that removed the markings without searing the skin too badly. It had been difficult running experiments considering the dearth of soulmates in the world to serve as guinea pigs, but they were well-pleased with their concoction. Like the brain wiping, it needed renewing, otherwise the pigment crept to the surface once again.

In 1984, things became more difficult. Wipings had to occur more often. Because finally, at long last, the markings had darkened to a deep raven black. Much harder to bleach.

Less than half of all soulmates have interesting sentences for their markings. Sometimes they’re silly or weird (“You sure you don’t have any other bananas?”), often they’re generic greetings (“Hi, I’m Mark”). And about half are something along the lines of “Oh!” or “Wow! Those are typically on the person who found out second of the pair. “You’re my soulmate” is a common one for the same subset of the soulmate population, which to begin with is relatively small.

Bucky has no idea what his says. It’s in Hebrew, and he never bothered to have it translated.

That is until he moved into the compound in 2016. He didn’t really bother on purpose so much as he was asked a question by a fellow Avenger. A question which he frequently received when he was a kid but hadn’t heard in decades: “So, are you Jewish?” He confirmed he was not.

He couldn’t remember why he was asked so often in his youth, so he asked Pietro what prompted him to inquire. Pietro indicated the tattoo on his right arm that he hadn’t even noticed. It had recently reappeared since he had been away from Hydra just long enough. It had returned in all its glory, and was gleaming raven black.

He had a soulmate, and they were alive.

Knowing that he had a soulmate in this generation was comforting to Bucky beyond belief. Anytime he regretted not dying after his fall, cursed his super-soldier serum for not letting him experience the depth of pain and injury he felt he deserved due to what he did as the Winter Soldier, he could look at the delicate Hebrew lettering and remember that he had a purpose for being kept alive.

Turns out what Bucky had written on his forearm was the most common phrase in Hebrew liturgy. “Baruch atah Adonai, eloheinu melech ha olam,” “Blessed are you, Oh Gd, Sovereign of the Universe.”

“Come on Bucky. It would mean the world to Pietro and Wanda if you came down,” Steve pleaded with his best friend through the closed bedroom door. “Not to mention Y/N,” he added under his breath.

Bucky had been avoiding the new girl for weeks. She was a force of bright energy and positivity he didn’t feel he deserved. He didn’t want to corrupt her. Her smile was like the sun and her laughter was the most beautiful sound in the universe. He’d only ever heard it around corners, but he wished he could listen to it forever.

She brightened every room she walked into, and he felt he only darkened them, so he always found a reason to slip out without a word.

“It’s not a big party like last year,” Steve tried again. “Just the gang gathered around the menorah. Just the first night is all I ask. ”

Steve heard rustling, and was encouraged to continue his bargaining. “You can leave before the dreidel starts, and you don’t have to eat any latkes if you don’t want.”

More rustling.

“Y/N is starting to believe you hate her.” That was a bit of a lie. You were already completely convinced that Bucky despised you. Why else would he refuse to be in a room with you, speak with you ever, acknowledge your existence even?

The door swung open, and Bucky shuffled out reluctantly, having thrown on a long-sleeve henley. He still never showed off his arms, either of them, even inside the compound.

Steve didn’t even care, he just smiled at the small victory and dragged Bucky to the living room.

There was a big Christmas tree in the corner of the room, but everyone was huddled near the windowsill. An elegant bronze Chanukia—a relatively standard design with two lions facing each other—sat on the sill. The room smelled of delicious fried potatoes mixed with onions, mingled with the sweet odor of fried dough. Bucky’s mouth began to water the second he walked in.

You turned from where you were fitting the skinny candles into their respective spots—two for the first night—to see Steve leading in Bucky, who was slouched in on himself, trying to make himself appear smaller, to disappear. But you smiled brightly at him. You were so afraid of saying something that would scare him away or make him hate you more, so you let your smile speak your gratitude.

And what a smile it was. It set butterflies fluttering in Bucky’s stomach and he found it hard to breathe until you turned away.

Pietro lit the tallest center candle with a match, and Wanda went to lift it out of its spot to light the other one with it. The three of you began to sing.

“Baruch atah Adonai…”

Bucky felt a tingling in his arm. He pushed up his sleeve and stared at it in wonder.

FRIDAY had dimmed the lights so the room was illuminated only by the classy yellow twinkle lights hanging from the Christmas tree, the two small candles in the windowsill, and, now, Bucky’s arm.

The letters were glowing, and they continued to glow as you continued.

“Eloheinu melech ha olam.”

You were so entranced by your ritual that you did not notice the miracle of light occurring behind you.

As soon as you finished all three prayers, you immediately launched into the story of Chanukah, as per your family tradition. Without turning from the sill, you tried to see if you remembered the exact wording of the little board book your family kept in the dining room, tucked into a cabinet for 51 weeks of the year.

“A long, long time ago, about 2,000 years or more, a wicked Greek king by the name of Antiochus ruled over Jerusalem.”

Pietro and Wanda noticed the occurrence before you, but let you continue, only patting you on the shoulder when you got the last words out.

You turned, eyes misty from your childhood memories of a family life now lost.

They widened when you saw Bucky’s outstretched arm, still glowing. He had no idea when it would stop. Maybe when he spoke his words. But he was so terrified of them being stupid that he just stared at you. He knew the words were already seared into your skin, that whatever he was going to say had been written in the stars and he couldn’t change it now, but he still felt embarrassed and pressured to make them worthwhile.

It dawned on you that while you felt awful knowing he was keeping you at several arms’ lengths because he had never spoken a word to you, you also had never spoken a word to him. Before this night.

You glanced at Pietro and Wanda. “You both have spoken to him before…”

Pietro chuckled and Wanda nodded enthusiastically.

“It’s gotta be you, doll,” Bucky whispered.

With that, those exact words on your own arm began to glow.

A Chanukah miracle.

#my post #fanfic #marvelll #writing #marvel #mcu #mcu fanfic #marvel fanfic #abitchassholiday #bucky x reader #soulmate au #bucky barnes x reader #bucky boy #chanukah #jewish!reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes soulmate

[the-omni-princess]

The-omni-princess Bucky Barnes Masterlist

James Buchanan “Bucky” Barnes

Updated: 4/12/20

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Newest works on top * is smut (18+ only) and + is a fan favorite

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Series ——-

Winter Storm (OC Story, Demigod!AU) (Coming Eventually) *

Series Summary:

Yakovlevna Anastasia Volkov grew up in the better streets of Brooklyn, dancing along to her father’s music, knowing she was different. The Daughter of Aphrodite, with uncontrollable powers over ice, and a pension for trouble. When she meets a cute Brunett and his skinny blonde friend in 1935 outside her ballet studio, her life gets tossed into a series of fortunate events, until things take a dark turn in 1945.

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Blood Bound (Vampire!Bucky x Witch!Reader, Supernatural AU!)

(On Hiatus)*

Series Summary: Vampires and witches have been known enemies since the dark ages. Backstabbing, secrets, and magic turned supernatural brethren again each other. As a natural-born witch, you grew up on these stories, your own monsters under your bed. What happens when one of those sworn enemies claims that you are his blood mate, the vampire equivalent of a true mate? Will you give in to this man out of time? Or destroy him for the sake of your Coven?

*(Smut chapters are clearly marked)

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Tangled Up (College Social Media AU!) (Complete) +

Series Summary: You and Bucky show up to the same costume party accidentally wearing a couple’s costume. The problem? People think you came together.

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Frozen Heart  (Modern Royalty!AU) (Complete) *+

Series Summary: After the war against Hydra, King Bucky comes home to take what has been promised to him since he was young, you. But he is not the same person as the young boy that you grew up with. Can she break through his tough shell and bring back the young man she once fell in love with? Or will she be forced to marry the monster everyone thinks he’s become?

*(Smut Chapters are clearly marked)

Overall Word Count: 55.8K

——- One Shots ——-

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Something Wild Calls You Home (Fae King!Bucky x reader) 

Summary: For @buckysknifecollection ‘s #buckysknifecollectionchallenge and @brooklyn-boy ‘s #Floriographywritingchallenge

When you meet the Fae King he makes a deal with you as you uncover secrets of your childhood.

Based partially off of this song Something Wild by Lindsey Sterling

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Spiced Cinnamon (Alpha!Bucky x Omega!Reader) (Smutty but not full on smut)*+

Summary: For Asadmarveltrashbag ‘s #sarahs3kWC

Bucky accidentally triggers your heat

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Wait for Me (I’m coming) (Winter Soldier!Reader)

Summary: For sunmoonandbucky’s #5kconstellationswc

One last mission. One more death.

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Guarded Crown (Knight!Bucky x Princess!reader)

Summary: For bucky-smiles‘s Secret Santa 2019

Your knight tries to protect you

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Fleece Navidad (Doctor AU)

Summary: For mypassionsarenysins‘s 1k Writing Challenge, a Doctor!Latina!Reader x Biker!Bucky

Your residential frequent flyer has a good reason for wanting to stop by to see you – again.

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Beauty and the Beast (Soulmate!AU) (Sequel to Sleeping Beauty)

Summary: For bitchassbucky ‘s #abitchassholiday writing challenge

You wake up the day after drunkenly meeting your soulmate.

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Sleeping Beauty (Soulmate!AU) +

Summary: For @geosaurusrrex ‘s 2k milestone writing challenge

No one can wake up Bucky from Cryo… well, except theoretically his Soulmate.

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All Yours

Summary: For @writingsoftheloser ’s  1.5K Flowers Writing Challenge

It’s simple really. You have a secret, and there’s an infamous Stark party. What could go wrong?

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Burnt (Firefighter!AU) +

Summary: For @sunmoonandbucky‘s 1.5K writing challenge

Another late night at the firehouse is interrupted when dispatch calls out a very familiar address.

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My Sargent *

Summary: Bucky comes home after a mission with weeks of having no contact with you. (18+ Only)

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Electric Touch *

Summary: With everyone else in the compound gone on a mission, it’s up to you to help Bucky wake up from a nightmare. (18+ Only)

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Silver and Gold (Soulmate!AU) 

Summary: The first words spoken to you by your soulmate are written on your wrist. What happens when two super soldiers say the same thing at the same time?

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Inked Wrists (Soulmate!AU)

Summary: For @buckygrantbarnes ‘s writing challenge

In a world where the first words spoken to you by your soulmate are written on your wrist, what are you supposed to do when yours simply says “hey?”

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Ambushed

Summary:  For @buckygrantbarnes ‘s writing challenge

When a mission turns sour, you almost sacrifice your life to save Bucky. Both of you soon realize that you both might have feelings for each other.

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Toys and Flowers

Summary: For @sunmoonandbucky‘s 1.5K writing challenge

Insecurities and some badly written jokes can hurt, especially when they come from family. (Intrusive thoughts TW) (Angst with a fluffy ending)

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Hunted

Summary: For Selene’s 1K writing challenge

“I think I like you.” “Couldn’t you say this before you shot me?”

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Drabbles:

(that I remembered to add)

Small Reader w/Drunk Bucky

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Wakanda!Bucky/Reader w/Goats

 For notyetneedcoffee​ ‘s #NeedCoffees2k

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Accidental Morning Confessions

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Find me on Ao3!

#my writing #masterlist #Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barns imagine #james buchanan barnes x reader #james buchanan barnes #james barnes x reader #james barnes imagine

[ao3feed-buckybarnes]

Last Christmas

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/2PHCZ4R

by AveryRogers83

Title: Last Christmas (Dec 9) Author: @averyrogers83 Warnings: fluff Word Count: Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Reader Prompt: I Know you love Christmas so much, but PLEASE STOP SINGING THAT SONG! A/N: Drabble for @thefanficfaerie OTP Christmas Challenge and @bitchassbucky #abitchassholiday challenge

Words: 468, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Series: Part 9 of OTP Christmas Challenge 2019

Fandoms: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Categories: F/M

Characters: James "Bucky" Barnes

Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Reader

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/2PHCZ4R

#bucky #IFTTT #ao3feed #fanfic #bucky barnes #james barnes #the winter soldier #james barnes