One Shots || Bucky x Reader || ABC

H || Holiday Home *

Note before reading:

Thank you so much to @BarnesTheWhiteWolf for helping me come up with this very cliché, but very necessary Bucky one shot. Have I tried to squeeze as many tropes into this one shot as I could? Why yes. Also, I have never, ever, in my entire life- described the act of opening a jar of pickles so erotically.

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You stood rooted in the doorway, your packed bag in hand as you passed the living room which was completely deserted but for a large man sitting all alone on the couch, a book clutched in his titanium hand. Most of the lights were off, even the Christmas tree in the corner which still had Tony's Iron Man helmet propped on top of it after a party with too many cocktails, was turned off.

You knew for a fact Bucky was aware you were there, as he was able to hear you secretly nibbling on roasted almonds from across the room during staff meetings. He would always smirk a little and then look away, like the two of you were sharing a secret and he had sworn not to tell a soul. That had been the gateway to varying jokes and taunts, especially when Bucky would return from missions only to end up in your doctor's office to be stitched up again. Whereas he was very quiet and reserved at first, the two of you started talking quite quickly. Eventually he even switched from calling you 'doc' to 'doll'.

Each time that nickname rolled off his lips you felt your knees go a little weak, feeling certain that the next time would be the one where you would melt into a helpless puddle onto the ground. But little did you know Bucky had felt the very same every time you told him to get his act together and take the pain of the needle piercing his skin like a man. He liked how blunt you were at times, wondering if that was how you were raised or whether that was all you.

Right now, as you saw him sitting there all on his own with everyone having left for Christmas to visit family or friends, you felt your heart break a little thinking of Bucky staying here in this awfully modern and dreary tower by himself.

"Barnes," you said, waiting for him to turn around towards you.

"Hmm?" Bucky hummed in recognition as he flipped a page.

"Get your go-bag, sergeant."

This did make Bucky turn around and look at you. He fucking loved it when you called him that. Your eyes were unmoving as they looked back in his, confirming your statement was a command, not a question.

"And where would I be going doll?" he asked as he put his book away and got up off the couch. He couldn't help it; when you asked him to do something it felt like his legs moved all on their own without a single thought. He felt pretty sure that if you told him to jump off a cliff his feet would carry him over the edge.

"To my home. You are celebrating Christmas with me and my family."

He blinked a couple of times as he stared back at you. You could actually see the frown on his face form as he processed your words.

"Listen- you really don't have to. I'm fine with staying here on my o-" he started but before he could finish you flung your bag at him for him to catch. He responded instantly, his titanium arm reacting quickly as it caught your bag with ease. There was something intensely hot about that mechanical arm showing its speed and strength like that.

"The jet is set to leave in 5 minutes. You better hurry or you'll miss our date," you said, a small smug smile playing on your lips as you plunked yourself down on the couch demonstratively, crossing your arms for emphasis.

You didn't see how Bucky stood there behind you, your bag in his hands as he watched you sit there; like inviting him home for Christmas was the most normal thing in the world. Like you telling him you guys were going on a date made any sense in the world. Because he was just him and you were- well, everything. He smiled a little as he turned around and headed for his room to grab his go-bag.