Word Count: 1250
Pairing: Dean x Reader
Warnings: Dean. He’s definitely a warning. Fluff.
Beta’d by: @princessmisery666 - i think I left you off my last one and I feel terrible about that. You always have the right words to make me feel good about anything I do. I can’t imagine 2020 without you. Thank you so much.
A/N: This was written for @shy-violet-soul for her request for Merry Manda’s Christmas Drabbles! Vy - I love you so so much and I hope that this makes you smile. You deserve the world and I am so thankful for your presence in my life.
Surprise
“Where are we going, Dean?”
Dean grins at y/n from the seat beside her before training his eyes on the road again.
“Just hold your horses, princess. You’ll see soon enough.”
Y/n huffs. Surprises aren’t exactly her favorite thing and though she trusts Dean implicitly, the anxiety of not-knowing makes her grumpy.
“Oh come on, don’t be like that,” Dean implores gently. “I promise it will be worth it. We’re almost there.”
When Dean had told her earlier in the day that he had a surprise for her, she’d expected a gift, maybe. It is Christmas Eve after all. But when he’d ushered her into the Impala without preamble - or gift in sight - she’d been immediately put on edge.
Not that that was anything new. The last year has been…challenging, to say the least. The entire world seems to be on fire. Everyone is angry about something and despite her very best efforts, y/n has been hard-pressed to feel that Christmas cheer she’s been so accustomed to in years past. Between losing Cas, Chuck going insane, Jack taking over his bat-shit crazy grandfather’s job - and doing it much better, in fact - y/n and the Winchesters have hardly had time to catch their breaths. Christmas actually seemed to have snuck up on all of them. It’s hard to remember what day it is when every week feels like a month.
Dean reaches across the bench seat, his hand finding y/n’s and their fingers intertwining.
“I know how you feel about surprises and as much as I want to surprise you, I’ll tell you where we’re going if that would make you feel better.”
Y/n studies his handsome profile. After everything that’s been thrown at him, Dean remains one of the kindest and most considerate people she’s ever known. He’s always put everyone else’s needs and wants above his own, and even though this surprise is for her, he wants to surprise her. And Dean deserves to have what he wants. She can handle a few moments of discomfort and anxiety if it means Dean will be happy. Her nerves be damned.
Y/n shakes her head and gives his calloused hand a firm squeeze.
“No, it’s okay, Dean. I trust you.”
Even in the dim light provided by the streetlamps, y/n could swear she sees his eyes shine a little brighter, their green depths sparkling like the purest of emeralds. And for her, as he squeezes her hand back, that’s enough.
Minutes later, Dean turns off the main street and into an unfamiliar residential area. Three rights and a left and the darkness is broken by thousands of twinkling lights. Ahead of them, a line of cars is inching down the street, and Dean takes their place in line. The wind is brisk as y/n cranks down the window and gazes outside, but she's too mesmerized by the sight before them to feel the chill.
The entire street - every single house - is absolutely covered in Christmas lights. A sign at the corner reads “Candycane Lane” with a radio station listed below the bright red letters.
“Surprise.”
Y/n whips her head to face Dean. There could be lightbulbs covering every square inch of every home in the city and it wouldn’t compare to the joy lighting up his face in this moment. If his eyes were sparkling before, they are ablaze now. He meets her gaze for a moment before fiddling with the radio and turning it to the station suggested on the sign. A second later, the car is filled with Frank Sinatra’s voice crooning “Jingle Bells”.
“Dean, this is…” y/n exhales shakily, at a loss of words.
“Oh! Almost forgot!” Dean twists in his seat, reaching into the back and pulling out two small thermoses and handing one to her. “Homemade hot chocolate, with extra marshmallows, of course.”
The music changes and the sounds of Trans-Siberian Orchestra replace Sinatra. It’s at that moment that y/n realizes the lights around them are blinking in time with the music. It’s like the most meticulously choreographed dance, but with Christmas lights. Every crescendo, every beat, every note is accentuated with a flash or blink or color change.
The sight is breathtaking.
Stunned, y/n looks between the lights, the still unopened thermos of hot chocolate in her hands and the giddy man in the driver’s seat beside her. Her brain can’t even begin to process the words to describe what she’s feeling in the moment.
The car in front of them creeps forward and Dean follows. The house now on her side features a giant inflatable snow globe with some form of snow billowing inside around a smiling polar bear donning a santa hat. Three tinsel-clad penguins flank it on each side, each one holding different things - candy canes, presents, a stuffed bear. The roof is covered in large snowflakes that blink in time with the music and the tree behind the globe is fashioned with strands of lights that give the illusion of snow falling.
Dean grunts in satisfaction and y/n turns to find him nodding his head, staring approvingly at his thermos. A fine line of hot chocolate clings to the scruff on his upper lip.
“Damn good, if I say so myself.” He looks at y/n and his face drops, brow furrowed. “What’s the matter?”
Bewildered, y/n stares at him for a second before throwing herself across the seat and wrapping her arms around him.
“Nothing,” she sighs, face buried in the crook of his neck. “Nothing's the matter, Dean. This is...I can’t even describe it. ‘Amazing’ doesn’t even begin to cover it.”
A car behind them honks and y/n jumps, pulling back and realizing that the car in front of them had moved forward a few spaces. Apparently they were holding up the line, but y/n couldn’t find it in herself to care.
Dean grunts and inches the car forward, mumbling something that sounds vaguely like ‘asshat’ under his breath. When they’ve pulled up enough, Dean turns to y/n again.
“So you like it?” Dean quirks an eyebrow, tugging his bottom lip between his teeth.
“Like it?!” Y/n practically shouts. “I love it! Dean, this is incredible. I didn’t know there was anything like this around here!”
Dean chuckles. “Yeah I didn’t either. I heard someone at the post office mention it the other day and I just knew I wanted to bring you here.”
Y/n stole a glance out the window again. The song had changed again; a beautiful, symphonic rendition of “O Holy Night”. This yard held a large, though simple, nativity scene, a single, bright spotlight shining down upon it.
Turning back to Dean, the burn of tears stings the backs of her eyes. “Thank you, Dean.” Her voice is barely above a hoarse whisper.
Dean clears his throat, driving forward once again.
“Wait until you try the hot chocolate, then you’ll really thank me.”
Y/n reaches over then and laces her fingers through his again.
“Seriously Dean. This is perfect. Thank you so much for bringing me.”
Dean’s cheeks glow pink under the numerous freckles kissing his skin.
“I just figured this year has been shit and we could both use some Christmas cheer.” He squeezes y/n’s hand gently. “Thank you for trusting me and letting me surprise you.”
Leaning forward, y/n places a kiss against his stubbled cheek.
“Merry Christmas, Dean.”
Like what you see? Want more? My SPN Masterlist is here, and MCU is here. Thanks for reading! :)
FYI I’ve updated my tag list, so if you don’t see your name below and want to, send me an ask. Weirdos are for everything, Heroes is MCU and Hunters is for SPN.
Word Count: 3,623 (decidedly NOT a drabble...it got out of control and I won’t apologize.)
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader
Warnings: Angst, Theft, Fluff
Beta’d By: @princessmisery666 - thank you my love
A/N: This was requested (kind of?) by my amazing and wonderful Name Twin @amanda-teaches. I hope you like this babe! (And I promise I’m working on the other still) I know these are called “Merry Manda’s Christmas Drabbles” and literally NONE of them are Drabbles...but I’m lazy and haven’t changed it in the 4 years I’ve been doing these. So...Sorry? (I’m not, actually. I’m not even sorry a little bit.)
The bitter chill of winter air cut through the leather of Bucky’s jacket as he stepped out of the car. He’d briefly considered taking his bike for the evening but had thought better of it. Though now, he was grateful he’d spared himself that torture. Shivering, he wondered if getting out on this frigid night was even worth it at all.
“Fuckin’ hate the cold,” he muttered, the words crystallizing in the air as he shoved the keys into his pocket and began making his way to the door.
After Steve went back in time to return the stones - and himself - to their proper place, Bucky felt lost. He’d known Steve’s intentions - even supported them. Didn’t mean it didn’t hurt like hell.
He and Sam had gotten along better than Bucky would have guessed at the jump. They’d actually grown code enough, Bucky might even go as far as to call Sam a friend. Sure, they still had their moments of friction, but overall they worked well together. Sam was a damn hard worker and made him laugh, despite the obvious pain Bucky saw in his eyes. He missed Steve too. Whether they admitted it or not to themselves - certainly not out loud - they needed each other.
But sometimes Bucky just needed some time to himself.
That was how he’d wound up here the first time six months ago. It had been Steve’s birthday and even though Sam had invited him along to go see his old friend, he’d declined. He hadn’t been ready for the reminder of what kind of life he’d missed out on. So instead, he’d chosen to go for a drive with no real destination in mind. Not long into the trip however, he’d gotten hungry and stopped at the first place he saw.
The diner was small; cramped and slightly dingy, with scuffed linoleum floors and cracked booth seats. The menus felt sticky and none of the dishes matched, but the coffee was perfect. Hot, dark and slightly burnt; just how he liked it.
If anyone had recognized him that first day, they didn’t say anything. He was used to his fair share of open stares and the odd murmuring of worried voices wherever he went. But not here. Here, he was just Bucky - cup of coffee, no cream.
Bucky fell in love with the place immediately and it soon became his little home away from home. A place of refuge he could escape to when things got too heavy or his thoughts got too loud. Or, like tonight, when he just really, really wanted some of that amazingly shitty diner coffee.
The cold air that enveloped Bucky sloughed off as the diner door shut behind him, quickly replaced by the warm scent of coffee and whatever Mel was frying in the kitchen. He’d been there less than a second and he could already feel himself begin to relax.
A quick scan of the space showed no signs of anything out of the ordinary. Well - not really. A few weeks back, someone had decorated the counter top with a small, fiber-optic Christmas tree and a Santa figure that looked nearly as old as the place itself. Meager as it may be, it made the place feel festive.
The old jukebox in the corner - usually churning out songs by Chuck Berry, Elvis and The Temptations - hummed holiday tunes and voices that made him remember Christmases long since past. Before the war, before HYDRA, before the snap...when he was just a charming blue eyed kid from Brooklyn, looking out for his sisters and his annoyingly stubborn best friend. Bing Crosby's soothing timbre always brought back fond memories of his ma's cooking and the squeals of delight from the girls when they woke Christmas morning.
His moment of reverie was broken, however, by the sound of another familiar voice.
“Hey Bucky. Merry Christmas!” Y/n smiled and Bucky briefly thought of the prospect of making new Christmas memories to settle alongside those from so long ago.
Y/n followed him with a steaming pot of coffee as he took his seat at his usual booth. She filled the cup to the very brim before leaning against the back of the seat opposite of him.
“Merry Christmas, y/n.” Bucky wrapped both hands around the chipped porcelain mug. “I figured you’d have the night off, bein’ the holidays and all.”
In all the months he’d been coming here, he’d only ever seen her face bright and full of joy. She was sweet and kind and always made a point to have a chat with him about anything and nothing when she had a moment to spare. If he was being honest, part of the pull he felt toward this place was because there was a good chance he’d get to bask in her glow, if only for an hour or two.
But now, the smile on her face drew tight and the light in her eyes dimmed. In an instant, Bucky was filled with a pang of regret. Before he could find the words to apologize, her features melted back into place. He wondered if the cheeriness she tended to exude was simply a mask that he’d failed to recognize.
“Girl’s gotta make a buck somehow, right? Just the coffee tonight?”
Bucky paused, the cup halfway to his lips as he thought about it.
“Actually, I think I’m craving pie.”
Y/n nodded approvingly. “Well lucky for you, we have lots to choose from. Pick your poison.”
Savoring the delicious burn of the first sip of liquid gold, Bucky smacked his lips and tipped his head to one side. “How about you surprise me? Bring two slices of your favorite?”
“Coming right up!”
Bucky watched as y/n made her way behind the counter, setting the pot back on the warmer and moving to the fridge where they kept their pies. Propping a fist on one hip, y/n pursed her lips as she surveyed the options before her.
Bing's voice filled the comfortable silence as he crooned "White Christmas".
“Heya, Buck!” Mel’s voice drew his attention and he turned to find the greying head of the diner’s owner peeking out of the kitchen window. "Merry Christmas!"
“Merry Christmas yourself, Mel. Surprised you’re even open tonight.”
“Everybody’s gotta eat, even on Christmas Eve.” Mel grinned. “Besides, who else is gonna let your ugly mug drink all their coffee for a buck and a half?”
Bucky scoffed and shook his head. “You oughta be grateful I even come in and pay for this sludge, Mel. I could just stay home and drink my own damn coffee.”
“And yet here you are,” Mel quipped back, his gaze flicking to y/n as she approached Bucky’s table with two slices of pie. Mel winked at Bucky before disappearing into the kitchen.
Bucky’s face flushed at the not so subtle implication. And yet, here I am, Bucky thought as y/n set the plate in front of him.
“Chocolate cream pie, huh?” Bucky quirked an eyebrow at her. “I woulda pegged you for a cherry kinda gal.”
“Guess you woulda been wrong then, Sarge.” Y/n shrugged, a smug smile on her lips. “Enjoy!”
Y/n turned to head back to the counter, but Bucky caught her wrist gently. As she turned around, a spark of something between fear and confusion flashed across her face.
“Now where are you going?” Bucky let go of her wrist and motioned at the seat across from him as he continued. “Thought we were gonna have some pie?”
Confusion won over as she narrowed her eyes at him. “You’re gonna have some pie. I gotta get back to work.”
Bucky gestured around the nearly empty diner, his eyes wide with feigned innocence. Only one other table was occupied - a young couple, too giggly and twitterpated to notice anything other than each other. “I dunno. Looks to me like there’s not much work to be done at the moment. And besides, you really think I could eat all this by myself?”
Y/n planted her fist on her hip again and rolled her eyes. “Something tells me you definitely could.”
Gasping in mock offense, Bucky pressed his hand to his heart. “Even the notion! And on Christmas Eve, no less…”
Scoffing, y/n held up her hands in surrender. “Alright, fine. Let me go get a cup of coffee and I’ll join you. But only because it’s Christmas.” Y/n shook her head warily as she walked back behind the counter.
He didn't even try to fight the pleased smile from his lips as he tapped the side of the mug with a vibranium finger. “Maybe just bring the pot?” Bucky called before draining the last of his cup.
A dull thunk against the warped tabletop nearly startled him and he looked up to find y/n already settled across from him, the coffee pot between them.
“Already ahead of you, Bucky.”
Bucky grinned and nudged a napkin wrapped fork in her direction as y/n poured a cup of coffee for herself and refilled his.
“So…” he began, unfurling his fork and immediately scooping up a large bite of pie and jamming it into his mouth.
Y/n’s eyebrow quirked and she paused, fork poised midair as she responded - “So?” - before copying his action, albeit with a slightly smaller bite.
“That’s some damn fine pie.” Bucky licked his lips and hummed in delight as he took another bite. “So, what’s the story?”
Y/n set her fork down and wiped her napkin over her mouth. Bracing her elbows on the table and wrapping her hands around her coffee, she tipped her head to one side.
“What’s what story?”
Bucky at least had the manners to swallow before taking a drink and leveling a measured gaze at her.
“Earlier, your face dropped when I mentioned you working tonight. What’s that about?”
Perhaps at some point in Bucky’s long, long life he’d have danced around the question. But lately he found himself growing more and more blunt. Why not just cut right to the chase without all the benign pleasantries?
Y/n blinked and cleared her throat. “I...uh...I don’t know what you mean.” She smiled at him, though her lips seemed forcibly stretched around her teeth.
Leaning forward, Bucky shook a gunmetal grey finger at her. “Nope. Not gonna cut it. Something’s bothering you, and I wanna help. If you’ll let me.” He sat back, running a hand through his recently shortened locks. “God knows you’ve listened to enough of my bullshit to last a lifetime.”
Tentative fingers wrapped around her fork as she began swirling the tines through the whipped cream of her mostly-uneaten pie. Bucky watched as she distracted herself with the sugary concoction.
“It’s,” she cleared her throat, gaze still trailing the swirls made with her fork. “It’s my brother. He got himself in trouble with some pretty brutal bookies. He came around last week asking for cash; I guess he’s in pretty deep. I gave him the little bit of savings I had, but I guess it wasn’t enough.”
Bucky’s body went rigid and he felt the anger building in his veins. He was thankful her gaze was still downcast, because he imagined the look in his eyes was pretty dark.
Y/n swallowed, setting her fork down with a soft ‘clink’ against the plate. “I came home from work a few days ago and he’d come in and stolen anything he thought he could get some money out of. I dunno; guess he pawned it or something.”
Small whirs and barely audible clicks of metal on metal filled the silence between them as Bucky’s fist clenched nearly as tight as his jaw. He knew she probably didn’t hear it, but to his heightened senses, it sounded like a blaring siren. Schooling his features and relaxing as best he could, he took an extra moment to level the tone of his voice.
“Your brother robbed you to pay off some bookies?”
Y/n eyes shot up, meeting his and widening suddenly as realization struck her. “Shit, I didn’t...please don’t…” She sucked in a shaky breath.
Bucky placed a hand over hers, surprising himself for a second before shaking his head. “Hey, hey. It’s ok.”
Hanging her head, she sighed. “Sometimes I forget who you are. You’re just Bucky, to me. I shouldn’t have said anything. I didn’t mean to put you in any kind of awkward situation being an Avenger and all…”
Her rambling died as Bucky’s hand tightened around hers reassuringly.
“I think knowing I’m ‘just Bucky’ here is one of my favorite things about coming here,” he offered her a lopsided grin as she met his gaze through watery lashes. “I’m just worried about you. You didn’t do anything wrong, darlin’.”
Releasing his hand, she sunk back into the faded pleather booth and wrapped her cardigan around herself.
“I know. I’m fine. Really.” She picked at an invisible thread on her sleeve. “I mean I can do without a TV or a computer, but he took all the presents I bought for the kids down at the rec center. I’d been saving all year to be able to do something nice for them.”
Bucky’s face flushed with renewed anger. How in the hell did someone so kind and generous and wonderful as y/n wind up with such an asshole for a brother?
“Excuse me, miss?”
Y/n looked as caught off guard as Bucky felt when the young couple from the other table called for her. They seemed hesitant to even disrupt the obviously tense situation.
“I’m so sorry to bother you, but we’re gonna miss our train if we don’t leave soon.”
“Oh no, no, no. You’re no bother.” Y/n sniffed and pasted on a smile as she slid out of the booth and met them at the counter. “I’m sorry I didn’t check on you sooner.”
Their conversation faded into the background as Bucky’s head buzzed with all the ways he wanted to make y/n’s brother pay for hurting her so badly. A voice in the back of his head - one that sounded entirely too much like Steve’s star-spangled-ass for his liking - told him to calm down. It was obvious y/n loved her brother, and anything Bucky’s scrambled mind could come up with to deal with him would definitely end up hurting her more.
So, rather than plotting revenge, Bucky pulled out his phone instead. He began clicking away furiously and got so lost in his mission, he missed the sound of y/n’s footsteps as she neared. The feeling of a warm hand against his shoulder made him jump, the device thumping to the table, narrowly missing his now-cooled cup of coffee.
“At ease, Sarge. It’s just me.” Y/n chuckled and patted his shoulder. “I didn’t think it was even possible to scare you.”
Bucky’s face twisted in smug defiance. “It’s not. I was just distracted, that’s all.” He snorted in derision.
“Uh-huh.” Y/n’s lips pursed, clearly trying to fight a smile. Bucky wished she wouldn’t; he’d give just about anything to see her face light up again. “Well, I’ve gotta go clear their table and start getting things shut down for the night. I just wanted to thank you for listening to me and for always being so...well...you.”
The sound of Bucky’s heartbeat roared in his ears as she leaned down and pressed a chaste kiss against his cheek.
“Merry Christmas, Bucky.”
----
A loud, almost violent-sounding banging on the front door woke Bucky up with a jerk. He scowled, eyes squinted against the faint golden rays of morning sun peeking through his curtains. The clock on his nightstand seemed to mock him with bright, bold, red numbers declaring the time to be 6:48 am.
The banging started again, somehow more violently. Muttering curses under his breath - mostly aimed at Sam for deciding to spend the holiday with his family down south, thereby leaving him to deal with whoever was currently trying to break down the front door - Bucky stumbled out of bed.
Another rapid series of knocks came to an abrupt stop as Bucky swung the door open. The venomous glare melted from his face as soon as his eyes met y/n’s.
“Y/n? What are you…”
His confused mumbling was cut off as y/n pushed inside and began pacing the length of the living room. She looked upset; angry even. Which Bucky could understand, at some level, as he, too, was none too pleased with being conscious at this god-forsaken hour. He watched her silent pacing with a sleepy sort of curiosity, expecting her to either start yelling or crying at any second. When a minute or so passed and she’d done neither, he tried again.
“Y/n? What’s wrong?”
The pacing stopped suddenly as she whirled to face him. The fire burning in her eyes was slightly off putting and not something he was used to seeing from her.
“What’s wrong?!” She stalked towards him. “What’s wrong is that I was woken this morning by a burly man named Carl - who smelled of cheese and tequila and told me he had a load of packages waiting for me in his truck. I was seconds away from calling the cops when he told me that it had all been paid for by someone named J. Barnes.”
Bucky’s head fell forward, a funny heat creeping up his face. A particular plank of flooring had suddenly become incredibly interesting.
Y/n scoffed. “I was confused at first, because I don’t know any J. Barnes, right? Except I do, don’t I James.”
The sound of his given name fell from her lips in a sort of disdainful disbelief that made Bucky’s head snap up.
“Y/n listen…”
“How did you even know where I lived? Are you some type of creepy stalker customer? I never asked for...I didn’t…” y/n huffed, crossing her arms over her chest. “I didn’t tell you that story so I could be seen as some charity case!”
Bucky held his hands up and took a slow step towards her. When she didn’t step back, he continued to approach her cautiously.
“First off, I know you didn’t. I didn’t mean for it to come across that way. I was only trying to help.” He now stood only a foot away, and made no move to come closer as he continued. “I’m not a stalker, either. I only had EDITH look you up and send the address straight to the delivery company. I specifically told her not to give it to me.”
“Who the hell is Edith?”
Bucky sighed, “It’s not a who, it’s a what. It’s Stark’s AI. The narcissistic bastard called it EDITH - ‘Even Dead, I’m The Hero’.” Bucky rolled his eyes, though he couldn’t help the twinge of pain at the thought of Tony. One of Bucky’s biggest regrets was not being able to make peace with the man before he sacrificed himself against Thanos.
Y/n frowned, opening and closing her mouth a few times. Bucky took a chance and stepped forward, placing his hands gently on her elbows.
“I’m sorry, I swear I was just trying to help. When you said your brother stole all the gifts you’d bought for the kids at the rec center, it made me think of my sisters. There were a few Christmases when my ma couldn’t afford presents and it broke my heart for them. I was just a kid back then and I couldn’t do anything to help, but now I have the means and I just...I just want to help.”
Without warning, Bucky found himself engulfed in y/n’s arms. Her face was warm against his bare chest and he blushed, just now realizing he hadn’t bothered to put a shirt on. He pushed aside his own discomfort and wrapped his arms around her, squeezing tighter when he felt her body begin to convulse with silent sobs.
They stayed that way for...well, Bucky wasn’t sure. It could have been a minute; it could have been an hour. But eventually, her tears subsided and she pulled back, wiping her face and not meeting his gaze.
“Thank you, Bucky” Her voice was so quiet when she spoke, Bucky wondered if he’d only been able to hear it because of his enhanced hearing. “But I can’t accept it. It’s too much, I can’t ask you…”
“You didn’t. I wanted to. For you and for those kids. Every kid deserves a present at Christmas.”
Y/n shook her head, eyes still glossy, though her lips curved in a sweet smile.
“You’re too precious for this world, you know that Sarge?” She sucked in a deep breath. “Ok, fine, but on one condition.”
Bucky frowned. “Condition?”
“Yes. You have to help me deliver them.” Y/n crossed her arms again, a challenging glint in her gaze. “But you should probably put a shirt on first.”
Bucky cringed. “Yeah, sorry about that.”
“Don’t be.” Y/n’s eyes widened as though she hadn’t meant to speak the words out loud.
Bucky fought the urge to make a smug remark and chose instead to ignore it and save her from any further embarrassment. Though he did catalogue that to contemplate later.
“Alright. Let me get changed and then we can get going.”
Bucky smiled and started toward his room, but stopped to face y/n again.
“Oh and y/n?”
Y/n looked at him and Bucky pretended not to notice the way her eyes trailed over his bare torso before she met his eyes.
“Hm?”
“Merry Christmas.”
Like what you see? Want more? My SPN Masterlist is here, and MCU is here. Thanks for reading! :)
A/N 2: I am using my new and improved taglist. If you want to be added, Send me an ask with the list you’d like to be on. Weirdos are for everything, Heroes is MCU and Hunters is for SPN.
Word Count: 1,643
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader
Warnings: Angst, Fluff, 2020 (even though I don’t say it specifically...you’ll see)
Beta’d by: @princessmisery666 - I’d be lost without you. xoxo
A/N: Written For @arrowsandmixtapes for my Merry Manda’s Christmas “Drabbles”. I was so excited when I saw your request, Kansas. This is my favorite Christmas song and it couldn’t be more fitting for this year. I specifically reference the OG version by Judy Garland with the original lyrics, but if ya’ll haven’t seen the video of Adam Lambert singing this song, you need to. It made my ugly cry. But like...in a good way? (video is here) Hope you enjoy this lovely!
Muddle Through Somehow
It wasn’t necessarily the soft sound of footsteps approaching that startled y/n. It was the fact that said footsteps came from a person who usually made no sound at all. If she could hear him walking, it was because he was letting her.
Somehow that made the whole situation worse, which made y/n cry. Again.
Y/n buried her face in her hands, shielding herself from view and trying to muffle the sound of her tears. It didn’t work. Instead, the sound of feet grew closer more quickly. A heavy, metallic hand landed on her shoulder, tugging her shoulder until she was facing him.
“Y/n?” Bucky’s voice sounded strained and rough - tired even. “What’s the matter doll?”
On a good night, Bucky got very little uninterrupted sleep. Judging by the creases in his right cheek, the squint of his eyes and the mussed hair on one side, tonight had been somewhat of a “good night.” Until she woke him up and robbed him of what little rest he had been enjoying. Y/n sobbed harder.
Bucky’s arms, one warm flesh and the other cool metal, wrapped around her shoulders, pulling her against him. The gentle vibrations of his soothing words tickled her cheek where it lay on his chest. Bucky’s fingers skimmed the length of her back as she held onto him like a life raft.
Eventually the tears dried, leaving y/n red-nosed and sniffing against Bucky, whose firm, reassuring grip on her never wavered.
“I’m sorry, Buck. I didn’t mean to wake you.” Her voice was hoarse and sounded painful as she mumbled the words into the cotton of his now tear-stained t-shirt.
Bucky pulled back then; only enough to look into her face while his hands found her waist.
“Sweetheart, you have nothing to apologize for.”
His stormy blue eyes searched hers as though he was trying to etch the sincerity of his words into her corneas. Even in the dim light, y/n could see the furrow of his brow and the concerned pinch of his lips as he regarded her.
Before she could argue or respond, Bucky was guiding her into the kitchen. Pulling out one of the stools at the counter, he motioned for her to sit while he set about making them each a cup of tea. The silence that stretched on was comfortable despite the occasional punctuating sniffle.
Turning, Bucky produced two steaming mugs and handed y/n the one with Snoopy dressed as Santa on the front. His own mug featured Woodstock donning an exceptionally long stocking cap. He took a sip and leaned across the counter, elbows resting against the cool granite surface.
“Now, you wanna tell me what’s the matter?” One corner of Bucky’s mouth twitched upward as he readjusted his grip on the mug.
Y/n tapped her nails against the side of her mug, eyes trained on the steaming cup, as if she were concentrating on the tinkling tune against the ceramic. She screwed her mouth up to one side, trying to find the words to explain.
The soft clink of ceramic on granite stirred her from her thoughts as Bucky placed a finger under her chin and nudged her gaze up toward him.
“Come on sweetheart. You can always talk to me.”
His voice held a nearly undetectable tone of uncertainty; worry even.
“I know. It’s not that. It’s just…” she sighed again, leaning into his touch as his hand slid to cup her cheek. “I’m just...sad. I feel like everything is upside down.”
Bucky frowned, his hand dropping from her face and she instantly felt a chill at the loss of his touch. Rounding the small counter between them, Bucky turned the stool she sat on to face him and held both of her hands in his.
“Have I…” Bucky inhaled sharply. “Did I do something?”
Y/n sighed, silently berating herself for making him think he’d done anything wrong. She squeezed his hands.
“No, baby. Not at all. You’re wonderful.” Y/n sniffed and pressed her forehead against his. “It’s just this damn year. It seems like everything that could go wrong has. I mean Christmas is what...a week away? We have the tree decorated, the stockings hung...everything looks so normal from the outside. But it’s not. It’s like all the things that bring me so much joy every year are just making me so infinitely sad.”
Y/n’s voice cracked on the last syllable and Bucky wrapped his arms around her again.
“I think it’s just really finally hit me that I’m not getting to spend Christmas with my family. And I get it; it’s safest to stay away, but it’s breaking my heart.”
“I know, doll.” He pressed a sweet kiss into her hair. “I know and I’m so sorry.”
Y/n pulled back and offered him a watery smile. “If I didn’t have you, Buck, I don’t know what I would do.”
Bucky pushed a stray lock of hair behind her ear and tilted her head up slightly. He returned her smile for just a second before kissing her gently. “I feel the same way, sweetheart. I’m the luckiest man alive. C’mere.”
Grabbing her hand, Bucky pulled y/n out of the kitchen and into the living room. Stooping down, he plugged in the tree and all at once the room shimmered with the warm lights meticulously wrapped around every branch. Y/n’s breath caught in her throat at the sight; just like it did every time. There must be some form of sorcery that went into Christmas lights that made them constantly emanate peace and joy no matter how sour her mood; y/n was sure of it.
Bucky then moved to the record player and dropped the needle, the faint scratch echoing softly as he returned to stand before her.
“Dance with me?” Bucky held out his hand, eyebrow arched and a warm smile stretching across his face.
There was no hesitation as y/n moved easily into his arms and tucked her face into the crook of his neck. She breathed deeply, inhaling his warm scent just as Judy Garland began singing.
Have yourself a merry little Christmas
Let your heart be light
Next year all our troubles will be out of sight
Tears burned at the back of y/n’s eyes and she clutched onto Bucky tightly as he led her in a slow circle.
Have yourself a merry little Christmas
Make the yuletide gay
Next year all our troubles will be miles away
“This is my favorite Christmas song,” y/n sniffed. Bucky hummed above her in agreement.
“Reminds me of being a kid,” Bucky chuckled.
Y/n looked up and found a dreamy, bittersweet look cross his face.
“I thought this movie came out after the war?”
There was a time when Y/n avoided asking questions about the war and Bucky’s life before HYDRA. She hated seeing the pain in his eyes at the memories such things brought back. But over their years of being together, they’d both realized that avoidance only made the inevitable remembering hurt more. It was important for Bucky to retain those memories, even when they were painful.
“Yeah I think it did, but I may or may not have had a little crush on Judy Garland back in my day.”
Y/n scoffed, her eyes twinkling in the soft glow of the Christmas lights. “Really?”
Bucky grinned. “Yes, really. The Wizard of Oz was one of the first movies I ever saw. Dorothy from Kansas? She was a real looker. Those big doe eyes,” he whistled lowly and chuckled. Sobering quickly though, he leaned in, lips against her ear, and whispered. “But trust me, she ain’t got nothin’ on you, doll.”
Y/n shivered as he kissed her temple and pulled her in close again, continuing to lead her in a slow, graceful sway.
Someday soon we all will be together
If the fates allow
Until then we'll have to muddle through somehow
So have yourself a merry little Christmas, now
As the song changed, the pair remained wrapped in each other’s arms, not caring if their steps matched the beat of the music. Between Bucky’s embrace, the warm glow of the lights and the soothing crackle of the record player, y/n began to feel the wealth of sadness that had been building inside her ebb away.
Eventually the music faded completely, only the occasional scratch and groan from the record filling the air. Everything felt still and lovely and for the first time in a while, y/n felt whole.
Maybe this year has been nothing but trash heaped upon trash and the holidays wouldn’t be what they once were. But she had Bucky and the hope that someday soon things would go back to the way they were. And right now, that was all she needed.
“Bucky?”
“Hm?”
“Thank you. For everything. You said before you were the luckiest man alive and I don’t know about that. But I know for a fact that I’m the luckiest woman in the world. If I’m gonna have to muddle through somehow, I’m glad I get to muddle through it with you.”
Bucky smiled as he leaned down to capture y/n’s lips in a slow, sweet kiss.
“I wouldn’t have it any other way, sweetheart. I love you.”
“I love you too, Buck.”
Their lips met again for a brief moment before a yawn overtook Bucky, forcing them apart. He grimmaced, sheepishly.
“Come on, old man. Let’s get you back to bed.” Y/n grinned and pecked Bucky’s lips once more before dragging him back toward their bedroom.
“Old man, huh?” Bucky smacked her on the ass, making y/n jump and giggle. “I’ll get you for that, my pretty. And your little dog, too.”
Like what you see? Want more? My SPN Masterlist is here, and MCU is here. Thanks for reading! :)
I am using my new and improved taglist. If you want to be added, Send me an ask with the list you’d like to be on. Weirdos are for everything, Heroes is MCU and Hunters is for SPN.
It’s that time of year! I asked if ya’ll would be interested in a 4th installment of Merry Manda’s Christmas “Drabbles” and ya’ll said yes! So let’s do the damn thing!
Alright, alright, alright!
First off, if this is your first year with me, I started this as a way to celebrate the birth of this dumpster fire of a blog - which turns 4 very soon. I honestly can’t think of many things I’ve done consistently for this long. So...yay me? Anyway, if you want an idea of what this has looked like in the past, you can check out my previous work here: 2017 2018 2019 .
Doing these Christmas/Holiday Drabbles - and I use that term lightly because very few have actually been drabbles - has been the highlight of my year in the past and has allowed me to write some of my favorite fics I’ve done. And given the fact that 2020 has been utter SHIT, I figured we could all use some Merry and Bright. So here’s where YOU come in:
Send me an ask with your favorite Winter/Christmas/Holiday/Seasonal thing and your pairing. It could be a song, an activity, a movie - whatever. Tell me your favorite thing about this time of year and if it strikes my fancy, I’ll do my damnedest to write you a thing. But wait - there’s some fine print:
Reader insert only - no ships please.
For the last three years, I’ve written exclusively for Supernatural, But this year I will be writing for Supernatural AND MCU.
For SPN I typically write for Sam, Dean and Castiel. Other Characters will be considered, but include a TFW backup just in case.
For MCU I have only really written for Bucky, but I am open to and wanting to write for Steve, Sam and possibly Thor. I will consider other characters, but include one of the above as a backup, again, just in case.
I can’t guarantee I will write a fic for every ask submitted. I try very hard, but sometimes life gets in the way or my muse is a selfish bitch and won’t cooperate.
While I love the song despite it’s controversial nature/message, I will not be writing for the song “Baby It’s Cold Outside”. This is only because I have had it requested three years straight and there’s only so many ways to make it new and exciting. Also, I don’t like getting yelled at by Nonnies who take issue with it. I don’t want to offend anyone, so I’m just trying to avoid conflict as best I can.
Send me the asks!
Signal boosts are greatly appreciated!!
If you want to be tagged in my Christmas Drabbles, send me an ask and I will add you to the list.
The Merry Manda Drabbles tag list will be for both SPN and MCU. I will be using my normal tag lists as they apply (Weirdos = everyone, Hunters = SPN, Heroes = MCU).
If you want to be tagged in only one fandom, please include that in your request and I will add you to my permanent tags for that fandom.
Merry Manda’s Christmas Drabbles 2019 - Requests Open
Hey ya’ll.
So as some of you may remember, for the past two years I have done Christmas Drabble Requests to celebrate the birth of my blog - which will be 3 this December (whaaatttt??!?!)
You can check out my previous work here: 2017 & 2018
So in keeping with tradition, I thought I would give it a go. I have been on a somewhat unofficial hiatus from fic writing for many reasons, but my last script for the year is done and I’m 87% unpacked from my third move of the year, so I thought - what the hell?
Doing these Christmas Drabbles - and I use that term lightly because very few have actually been drabbles - has been the highlight of my year in the past and I has allowed me to write some of my favorite fics I’ve done. So here’s where YOU come in:
Send me an ask with your favorite Winter/Christmas/Holiday/Seasonal thing and your pairing. It could be a song, an activity, a movie - whatever. Tell me your favorite thing about this time of year and if it strikes my fancy, I’ll do my damnedest to write you a thing. But wait - there’s some fine print:
Reader insert only
I don’t do ships - Destiel, Samifer, Sabriel, Megstiel, Deonna etc - no hate, just not my thing
I only write SPN. Sorry. Maybe someday I’ll try my hand at MCU, but for now - SPN only
I can’t guarantee I will write a fic for every ask submitted. I try very hard, but sometimes life gets in the way or my muse is a selfish bitch and won’t cooperate.
I hate having even numbers of things so I need something else. I guess, uh...just do it! Do the thing! Send me the asks!
It’s almost that time! I have 4 of my 10 requests done already and I’m working on a few more today!
If you are not on my forever tags and would like to be tagged in my Christmas Drabbles specifically, please send me an ask and I will get you added!
Hope ya’ll are starting to get in the holiday spirit. I was struggling but these are definitely helping! Shoutout to everyone who sent in a request! I may still be able to take another request or 2 if anyone wants to submit them. (You can check out my original post here.)
If you want to read some of my other festive fics, here are the master lists for those!
Word Count: 1028
Characters: Dean x Reader, Sam, Castiel, Bobby, Jody and Donna
Warnings: Fluff
Requested by: @amanda-teaches
Betas: @wheresthekillswitch & @hannahindie
x
White Elephant
“No way! That’s not fair!”
Sam frowns at me from across the small grouping of chairs as I snag the cheerful red and green gift bag from between his hands. It isn’t necessarily that I especially want or need the serial killer trading cards inside, but part of the fun of white elephant gift exchanges is the stealing.
“Sorry buddy, but fair’s relative today,” I grin. “Besides it’s got two more steals before it dies.”
Sam glares at me, before begrudgingly standing and scooping up a small, neatly wrapped box. He stomps back to his seat, ripping the paper unceremoniously and tossing it aside. Opening the box, he frowns harder - if that’s even possible - as he pulls out a small, white, stuffed elephant. He looks up from the creature, confused. The group snickers.
“I think I misunderstood the object of the game,” Castiel sighs, glancing at Sam. “I assumed we were all bringing white elephants.”
I groan, turning to Dean. “I thought you said you explained it to him.”
“I did,” Dean protests, indignantly. “Or at least I thought I did.”
“It’s fine, Cas. It’s cute!” I pat his knee reassuringly. “It’s your turn. Do you want to steal or open something?”
The angel squints at me, his eyes darting back and forth between the remaining packages and the gifts that have already been opened. Jody smiles, showing off the cat butt refrigerator magnets and “My Cat is an Asshole” calendar she’d opened. Donna shifts, obscuring the view of the box of shotgun shells she’d gleefully revealed a few moments ago, clearly hoping her goodies would remain hers.
After careful consideration, Castiel stands and retrieves the stuffed animal from Sam. He blushes, returning to his seat.
“I grew somewhat partial to him,” Cas gives the elephant a small squeeze.
Without hesitation, Sam stands and practically rips the bag I’d stolen from him out of my hands. Jody, Donna and Mary laugh as he sits again, sticking his tongue out at me.
“Dude. You really need a new hobby,” Dean grunts at his brother and turns to me. “Looks like it’s your turn, again, sweetheart.”
I decide to go for the hastily wrapped, irregular shaped package tucked between the two remaining gifts. I slide my finger in the crease of the paper, ripping the tape and revealing a bottle of Johnny Walker Black Label.
“Good choice, there, y/n,” Bobby grins at me. “But…” he trails off, holding up a small piece of paper indicating it’s his turn. “Looks like you’re gonna have to pick again.”
“You can’t bring a gift just to steal it back, Bobby!” Dean argues.
“Says who? Quit your belly achin’ and let your girl pick another present.” Bobby snaps as I relinquish control of the scotch.
And so it goes, stealing, unwrapping, arguing and good natured jabs until at last, it’s Dean’s turn - the end of the road for this little holiday game.
“Well, well, well,” he stands, rubbing his hands together. “Looks like I’ve got the final say here. I could open that last present, end the game and send everyone on their merry way. Or, I could steal something and keep the fun going.”
Dean begins circling the small space, clicking his tongue consideringly as he makes a show of checking out everyone’s goodies.
“Oh wouldja just get it over with, Winchester?” Donna groans, still protecting the ammo under her seat with one foot.
“Alright, alright,” Dean chuckles. “I’m not gonna steal your precious shotgun shells, Donna.”
He returns to the middle of the circle and turns to face me, his eyes locked on mine as he bends and selects the last present to be opened. A little current of disappointment runs through me. The evening has been a lovely reprieve from the exhausting reality that is our lives. For the first time in a long time, I remembered what it was like to simply enjoy the company of my friends without some potentially world-ending catastrophe hanging over our heads.
Dean winks at me, pulling out several sheets of tissue paper from the top of the gift bag. He reaches in and pulls out some kind of thin, red fabric. Setting the bag on the floor, he unfolds the fabric. His face flushes pink as he hooks two fingers through a set of loops and holds up what looks to be a very revealing piece of lingerie. A ripple of laughter erupts from the small group of friends and family. Bobby whistles suggestively.
“Well, that is quite the choice, Dean. It’s definitely your color,” Jody chokes between giggles.
Without prompting, everyone begins collecting the scraps of ripped paper and discarded ribbons. Within five minutes the crowd has all but dissolved, leaving only Dean and me behind.
“That was a lot of fun, y/n,” Dean smiles, his hands finding my waist and pulling me towards him. I wrap my arms around him, relishing his warmth. He pulls back, placing a soft kiss against my lips. “Thank you for organizing all this.”
His fingers sneak under the hem of my shirt, his nails grazing lightly.
“Sorry you got the raw end of the deal with the presents,” I run my fingers through the short hairs on the back of his head.
“What are you talking about?” He frowns at me, though his eyes sparkle mischievously. “Everything went as planned. I got exactly what I wanted.”
I narrow my eyes at him, curiously. “Come again?”
He smirks and drops his head, his lips hovering over mine. I feel his breath against my face as he speaks. “It’s your size and everything.” He captures my lips in a heated kiss, his tongue gliding past my lips and colliding with mine in a rush of unexpected hunger. The kiss leaves me breathless and reeling with desire as he pulls back.
Dean grabs my hand, leading me from the war room. He stops, grabbing the gift bag containing the lingerie before resuming his mission.
“What happened to ‘You’re not supposed to steal your own gift’?”
“You know what the say about rules, sweetheart.” He turns, his lips curved in a wicked smile. “They were made for breaking.”
Like what you see? Want more? My Masterlist is here. Thanks for reading! :)
