A/N: Today marks one year since I posted the first chapter of this story! To celebrate I had a drawing of Chanel done.
Thank you to my talented friend Julian Gonzalez who drew this amazing portrait for me (he refuses to let me tag his instagram but one day I will promote the shit out of him).
I started this story during the worst of the pandemic in my town, not too long after going through an ice storm from hell, and on the cusp of moving out of state for a graduate program. Needless to say, I was not in a good place. A lot of Chanel's pain came from me pouring my heart out onto the page. And I'm so thankful that I found this fandom, these friends, and this outlet. I truly don't know where I would be if I hadn't. I've since quit my grad program, focused more on writing and have a completely original story in the works about Chanel that I'm really excited about.
Lastly, thank you to anyone who has read this story. It truly means so much to me and I really hope you all enjoy it. đź’•
Christmas Morning
Chanel woke up early; she had barely slept, too excited about the last-minute gift she had managed to secure for Bucky. He was dozing peacefully, and Chanel felt only a smidge of guilt as she coaxed him awake.
"What time is it? He grumbled, rolling onto his back and putting his arm over his eyes.
"It's Christmas time!" Chanel bounced on the bed and shook his shoulder.
"Can it be Christmas time in like—" Bucky glanced at his clock and groaned, "—two more hours?"
"No being grumpy on Christmas, you little Grinch, come on!"
Chanel felt his concession as his muscles relaxed, and he allowed her to pull him up to a sitting position.
"Merry Christmas," he muttered as he kissed her. "Can I at least shower before we start?"
"Your first gift is waiting for you in the bathroom." Chanel smiled and nodded, slyly scanning his body to check his wounds. Satisfied that he was essentially fully healed, she gave him a quick kiss before letting him up.
"Suspicious," Bucky hummed and got up. "I'll be quick."
When she heard the shower turn on, Chanel slipped into the bathroom.
"Are you joining me?" Bucky peeked around the curtain.
"No time," Chanel shook her head. "I'm fixing my hair so I don't look ratchet in the pictures I know you're going to take when you think I'm not looking."
"Fine," Bucky said with a pout before disappearing behind the curtain again.
After she was pleased with her hair, Chanel quickly changed into her matching Christmas pajamas that she had bought for her and Bucky. They were the most obnoxious ones she could find—bright green with little Santas and elves printed all over. She sat on the bed, a giddy smile on her face, and waited for Bucky to come out of the bathroom.
"Really don't think this is my color, doll."
Bucky stepped out of the bathroom with the most adorably annoyed look on his face. Chanel grabbed her side as she fell into a fit of laughter.
Bucky crossed his arms in an attempt to look put off. "And now you're laughing at me."
"No, no—" Chanel tried to stop laughing, "—you look very sexy."
"At least we're matching, though you don't look nearly as ridiculous as I do." Bucky finally smiled, and such a simple action had her heart racing, making her regret not getting in that shower.
Bucky held out his hand, pulling her into a tight hug. "Come on, let's go see what Santa brought you."
Bucky hadn't slept much either, and while he would have preferred to celebrate his first real Christmas in decades at a more decent hour, the ridiculous pajamas had instantly lifted his mood. He didn't fully understand how ugly pajamas made him love her more, but it did. He squeezed her hand as they rounded the corner, suddenly a little nervous about the large pile of gifts that had magically appeared under their small tree.
"Buck—what—where did these come from?"
He felt his face go slightly pink as she gaped up at him, waiting on an answer.
After realizing how much Chanel had done to make his Christmas special, he wanted to do the same for her. Never getting gifts from Santa just didn't sit right with him—even during the Depression, his parents always made sure he had at least one gift to open from Santa.
Had he gone a little overboard? Maybe, but she deserved it.
Bucky shrugged. "Beats me. Looks like there's a note."
Chanel gave him an amused smile and went to pick up the large red envelope sitting on one of the boxes. "Dear Chanel, I'm sorry I missed you all those years. Hope this makes up for it. Merry Christmas, Santa Claus."
Bucky wrapped his arms around her from behind, squeezing her gently.
"Buck, I—I don't know what to say."
"Don't cry," Bucky whispered when he felt her slight shaking. "Merry Christmas, doll."
Chanel turned around in his arms and almost knocked him to the floor with the force of her kiss. Bucky stumbled backward as he caught her and let her wrap her legs and arms around him. Her salty tears ran down her cheeks and over their connected lips. Tears weren't the reaction he had imagined last night as he piled the gifts under the tree. Her hips grinding against him definitely wasn't what he had expected. He forced himself to pull his face away.
"You don't even know what's in the boxes yet," he said breathlessly.
"Doesn't matter," Chanel murmured against his skin as she sucked marks on his neck. "Fucking love you so much. You're perfect. So perfect." Chanel moved her hands from around his neck to his face and pulled his lips back to hers.
"Okay, okay—" Bucky made himself stop kissing her and sat her down in the one chair in the living room. "I love you too, but I really want you to open your gifts."
Chanel was grinning from ear to ear. "Okay, Santa—but first—" she reached for the remote and used her phone to play her Christmas playlist through the tv speakers.
"Now everything's perfect." Chanel kissed him one last time before she let him go to bring her a present to open.
"This one is from me." Bucky handed her the first gift.
Chanel rolled her eyes at his antics, but her excited smile never faltered.
As Bucky sat on the floor next to her, she tore into the paper excitedly. She opened the box to find a very interesting purse. She tried to hide the immediate frown that started to form, but she wasn't quick enough; she could see Bucky's disappointment already.
"It's okay if you don't like it—I saved the receipt."
Chanel turned to him with a pitying smile. "No, Bucky—I love it. It's very—yellow."
Bucky sighed and looked away, embarrassed. "I wanted to get you something unexpected, and I know you had a ton of purses back in—well, anyways, I was clueless, and I asked Nicki to help, and she said you'd like it—" Bucky paused his rambling when Chanel laughed loudly. "What?"
"Oh, Bucky, you poor sweet innocent man," Chanel squeezed his cheeks as he looked up at her, completely confused. "Nicki does not like me."
Bucky tilted his head as if this was news to him.
"Bucky—she's totally into you. So don't take this personally when I tell you that she picked the most god-awful purse in the entire store on purpose."
"Seriously? I—I had no idea. Fuck, we can take it back."
Chanel giggled and slid onto the floor to sit next to him. "No, I wanna keep it. I love it because it's from you."
"Really?" Bucky smiled again and held her hand.
"Really," Chanel leaned in to kiss him lightly, never stopping as she talked. "I'll keep it forever and pass it down to our daughter; it'll be a good story—oh shit." Chanel sat back as if Bucky's lips had electrocuted her. "I'm sorry, I don't know why I said that. Oh my god." Chanel's face was burning red as she tried to get off the floor and escape her embarrassment.
Bucky pulled her back down to him and held her face in his hands. "It'll be a great story to tell our kids and grandkids."
Chanel stared into his eyes, looking for any hint of regret, of panic, any sign that he was about to get the hell away from her crazy ass. They had barely been together a few weeks, and she was talking about kids, for crying out loud. But all she found was complete adoration and devotion—she hadn't fucked it up like she was always afraid she would.
"Time for you to open one of your gifts." Chanel kissed his cheek and went to the tree to pick up a large, heavy box. "Sit, I got it," Chanel huffed, dropping the package at Bucky's feet.
Bucky opened it curiously, smiling when he found two piles of books inside.
"I wasn't sure what you had caught up on already, but the guy at the hipster bookstore you like–yes, I had Yelena follow you one day–said these were the most popular books from the past few decades. I tried to get the oldest copies I could find–vintage, like you." Chanel smiled softly, sitting next to him as he pulled the books from the box.
"I love it–I–you could have just asked, though," Bucky snickered.
"I wanted it to be a surprise! This one's my favorite," Chanel picked up an early edition of The Great Gatsby.
Bucky pulled her into his lap, kissing her temple as he watched her thumb through the pages. "I've actually read this one. Why is it your favorite?"
Chanel shrugged, placing the book back with the rest. "I guess as a poor, lonely teenager, I just liked the glitz and glamor."
Bucky nudged her chin toward him for a kiss, but Chanel jumped up, searching for his second gift.
"Open this one next." Chanel placed a much smaller box in his waiting hands.
"A key? For what?"
Chanel nodded toward the kitchen window. Bucky gave her an exasperated look before jumping up to see what was outside.
A sleek white motorcycle with intricate black and gold detailing was parked right in front of his building.
"Holy shit, you–how–it's mine?"
Chanel laughed at how Bucky's head whipped back and forth between her and the window. The idea had come to her weeks ago; Bucky didn't have a fancy superhero outfit, he couldn't fly around like Sam, and he didn't have fancy cars like Nat used to. Chanel wanted him to have his own signature, and no one could miss this bike.
"All yours, White Wolf," Chanel wrapped her arms around him from behind. "Do you like it?"
"It's fucking perfect, holy shit," Bucky tore his eyes away from the window to stare at her in amazement. "Sam's gonna be so jealous–I don't care that he can fly–this is better. Can we go for a ride?"
Chanel's heart was whole. His complete and total happiness nearly knocked her to the floor.
"Of course, anything you want, baby."
Bucky pulled her in for a kiss, but Chanel thwarted him. "There's still gifts to open, don't distract me."
Bucky rolled his eyes but followed her back to the Christmas tree. "Okay, but you're opening one now."
Chanel surveyed the pile of gifts and chose one wrapped in sparkly red paper. Bucky sat across from her on the floor as she tore it open.
"Clothes? You are brave–or did Yelena help you pick it out?"
Bucky shook his head with a laugh, "trust me, you don't want her helping me in that department. And this is from Santa, remember?"
Chanel pulled a black, fuzzy lounge set out of the box. "You're right; you don't need help. This is perfect."
"Perfect for cuddling."
"One more for you," Chanel placed a small package in his open palm.
"A coupon book; did you make this?"
Chanel nodded, curling up next to him.
Bucky thumbed through the little book, picking a random page to read from. "One free massage–clothes optional." Bucky smiled wryly as realization sunk in. "There are some, um, interesting things in here, doll."
Chanel matched his grin, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. "Don't worry, Sarge," she whispered in his ear, "I'll teach you anything you don't know."
"Can I kiss you now?" Bucky swallowed thickly.
"A quick one." Chanel smiled.
"Everything is perfect, doll. I—it's been so long since anyone bought me anything. I'm a bit overwhelmed at how thoughtful these gifts are."
"We're just a pair of saps today, aren't we?" Chanel stroked his hair as they looked at each other misty-eyed.
"That's okay; I think we deserve it."
"Damn right."
Bucky felt like he might burst at the seams as he watched Chanel open the various gifts he had gotten her from "Santa." They were nothing big or expensive, just little things he thought she'd enjoy or that reminded him of her. Her favorite candy (sour skittles), a box of mini vodka bottles, a new case for her phone, and a small photo album, half full of pictures Bucky had taken of them over the past few months. She looked at every gift like it was the most precious thing she had ever seen; she never stopped smiling. And Bucky knew his new purpose in life was to spend every moment putting that look on her face.
They were sitting on the floor, surrounded by bits of wrapping paper and tissue and empty boxes. Bucky didn't think he could smile any more than he had this morning, and there was still one package left.
"This is another one from me. I think you'll like it a lot better than the purse."
"No help from Nicki on this one?" Chanel shook the box by her ear.
"Nope, all me."
Inside was a very fancy-looking knife. The handle was black and gold, the pattern the same as Bucky's vibranium arm. The blade was shaped like a canto knife, but something was slightly off. Chanel picked it up carefully and appraised it.
"It's beautiful," she breathed out in awe.
"It's custom made—obviously. The blade is one of a kind. If you ever have to use it—they'll know it was you."
Chanel grinned and twirled the knife in her hand. "It's perfect; I love it. I hope I don't have to kill anyone with it—it's too pretty."
Bucky chuckled and leaned back on his elbows to watch her play with the knife. He should have known that this was a much better gift than the stupid purse.
"I don't know if you were serious the other day about leaving the CIA, but I thought eventually you would be going on missions again. This way, you'd have something to remind you of me while you're away."
Chanel put the knife away and climbed into Bucky's lap. "I was serious, but that's very sweet."
Bucky laid back on the scattered wrapping paper and rubbed her hips. "So, what are you going to do now?"
Chanel shrugged and leaned down to his lips. "I was thinking that I would fuck my boyfriend, really dirty and loud so that bitch next door knows who he belongs to—and to thank him for the best Christmas of my entire life."
"I meant job-wise, but that sounds pretty good." Bucky's eyes were already screwed shut as she attacked his neck and started taking his pajamas off.
"Tell me what you want, baby." Chanel tugged his earlobe with her teeth, and his whole body erupted with goosebumps. "You can have anything you want–do whatever you want."
Bucky tried to contain his groan as she swiveled her hips over his clothed erection. Of course, he knew immediately what he wanted to ask for–he hadn't stopped thinking about it since the last time in the hallway.
"Bucky," Chanel smoothed out the worry line between his brows with a kiss. "I'm serious; whatever you want, just tell me."
Bucky sat up, slowly undoing the buttons of her ridiculous pajama top. "I'll tell you, but we don't have to if you don't want to."
Chanel squirmed in his lap in excitement; he grabbed her hip hard to make her stop.
"Last time–" Bucky kissed her collar bone as he gently pushed the shirt off her shoulders. "We didn't use a condom."
Chanel opened her eyes, looked slightly surprised, and Bucky blushed as he started to panic.
"I know it was a spur of the moment thing, but–"
"Yes."
"What?" Bucky blinked a few times, his hands frozen at her sides.
"Yes, I want you–" Chanel slowly rocked her hips against him. "It's okay; I'm clean, you can't get sick–and I'm on birth control."
Some worry melted from Bucky's face, quickly replaced by pure excitement. "Fuck, are you sure?" His sentence trailed off as he watched Chanel stand up and slowly pull her pajama shorts down. He quickly pulled his own off to catch up with her state of undress.
Chanel sat back down in his lap, wrapping her hand around his throbbing cock. "Please, Sarge? Wanna be your good girl."
"Fucking hell," Bucky muttered to himself, head tipped back before snapping it up and giving her the cocky look the role called for. "You're my best girl, doll."
Chanel shivered as Bucky pushed her off his lap and onto her back. The crinkle of tissue paper filled the air as he maneuvered her into the position he wanted–one leg wrapped around his waist, the other around the back of his neck.
"You gonna take it like my best girl, huh?"
Chanel arched her back, nodding urgently as Bucky teased the fat head of his cock across her folds. She hadn't been able to stop thinking about the last time either. They had been so rushed and frantic that neither of them fully appreciated the feeling of being so close. She hadn't been able to fully appreciate Bucky claiming her in a way that no one else had.
"Are you with me, doll?" Bucky brushed her hair back, waiting for her to open her eyes again.
"Yes, please, I need it, Sarge."
Bucky tried to prepare himself, but that first slide into her welcoming warmth was unlike anything he'd ever experienced. How had he not noticed this last time? How was she ten times warmer, wetter–he groaned when she clenched around him–tighter without the condom?
"Feel so good, baby girl, a fuckin' dream," Bucky grunted as he started to thrust as slowly as he could.
But Chanel gripped him tightly, moaning for him to go faster, harder, deeper. She wasn't joking about letting everyone within a hundred feet know who he belonged to. He didn't have the resolve to go slow anymore; his hips moved at a frantic pace, greedily trying to wring even more pleasure out of her pliant body.
Chanel whimpered each time his pelvis rubbed against her clit; he had awoken something in her–she felt out of control, feral. Her hips to lifted quickly to meet every stroke he gave her. One hand clung to his shoulder while the other searched for purchase in the littered tissue, ribbons, and bows, desperate to ground herself.
"Fuck, doll, you need this cock that bad, huh?"
Chanel nodded, biting her lip to keep her mouth shut. She didn't know what would come out anymore if she opened it.
"Talk to me–tell me how bad you need it, or I'll stop."
Chanel's eyes widened, tears already pooling because stopping was absolutely not an option. Not when she was this close to an earth-shattering orgasm.
Bucky smirked at her before delivering a short, calculated thrust that had her eyes rolling back into her head.
"Fuck yes, right there, daddy, please, please don't stop!"
Bucky groaned, forcing himself to keep going even though his body wanted to freeze in shock. "What did you just say?" He huffed, tilting her chin down to look into her glassy eyes.
Chanel's mouth moved, no sound coming out for a second before she uttered the word again.
Daddy.
"Christ," Bucky muttered, his jaw visibly clenching. "What's gotten into you?"
Chanel shook her head, eyes shut tight and her hand squeezing tightly around a piece of glittery pink wrapping paper. "Feels so good like this–" she lost the rest of her words as her world shattered around her, spreading glitter over Bucky's back as she hung on for dear life.
Bucky grit his teeth, trying his best to hold out; he was far from done enjoying this new little kink he had unlocked. But she was squeezing him so tightly, moaning his name so prettily. And then–
"Come for me, daddy, please."
The sweet little beg would have been enough to end him right there. But Bucky realized what this was, and his heart raced at the thought.
"Is that what you want, baby girl?" He leaned down to her ear, pushing her thigh up to get even deeper in her. "Want me to fill up this tight little cunt?"
The spasming of her walls around him was enough of an answer. And again, Bucky wondered how he hadn't appreciated this the last time. The thought of coming inside her now stirred something in him, something primal; he didn't have a choice anymore; this was what he needed. Images of Chanel, pregnant and glowing with his child–he knew it wasn't possible but fuck if it didn't make him want to try.
"Gonna put a baby in you, doll–my best girl–fuck."
Chanel suddenly came again with a gasp. "Bucky–do it, baby, fill me up."
Bucky ground his hips deeper, faster. Chanel had never heard such filth spew from his lips as he lost himself in her. And she knew she had unleashed a monster; how could he ever go back?
"Pretty little pussy's taking it so well–I'm so deep, baby girl, fuck–take it, fucking take it."
Bucky swore he saw heaven when he finally came, so deep inside her, he knew it wouldn't leak out. Not all of it. And the thought made his cock twitch before he even had a chance to go soft.
"Was that okay?" Bucky asked between breaths, still hovering over her, rocking his hips gently because he couldn't bear to stop completely.
"Okay? That was fucking exquisite—I'll be ready for round two after some breakfast. Think you can wait that long?" Chanel teased, clenching around him.
Bucky groaned but laughed as he kissed her. "For you, I suppose."
"Such a gentleman."
Bucky pulled her up, carrying her to the bathroom. "I'll make breakfast while you get cleaned up."
"Waffles?"
"Anything you want."
"Blueberry waffles." Chanel grinned and kissed his cheek before he sat her down and shut the bathroom door.
"Oh," Bucky poked his head back into the bathroom. "And we are definitely talking about this daddy thing—don't think you're getting away with that."
Bucky swore Chanel blushed, a rare sight, before she pushed him out of the bathroom.
Chanel's phone lit up with Sam's face on the screen. Before answering his video call, she quickly swallowed a large bite of her blueberry waffle.
"Merry Christmas!"
"Hey, Merry Christmas," Sam smiled, but Chanel could still see the worry lines on his forehead.
They hadn't spoken much since Bucky had been taken.
"How are y'all doing?"
"Fantastic," Chanel moved to sit in Bucky's lap so Sam could see him too.
"Merry Christmas!" Bucky shouted with a smile so big that Sam's features immediately relaxed. "Can I show him?"
"Show me what?" Sam questioned.
"Yes, but be quick, don't hog him." Chanel stood, and Bucky jumped up to grab his coat, excitedly telling Sam about the bike downstairs.
Chanel watched from the kitchen window as Bucky gave Sam a virtual tour of his new machine. He truly was adorable when he let his walls down, when he wasn't being a grump–which she also found cute. Maybe that was just him. Her adorable grumpy puppy of a man that she would do anything for.
Chanel was sitting at the table with a cup of hot chocolate when he finally came back inside.
"Sorry, we got a bit distracted." Bucky hung his coat up and gave her the phone back.
Chanel kissed his cheek as she took it. Sam was trying to get the attention of his nephews, who were distracted by a new video game.
"Y'all better get off that game and say hi to your aunt Chanel," Sarah's voice came from off-screen, and suddenly the boys were at Sam's side, waving into the camera. They spared her a quick hello before running back to the game.
"Is that Yelena?" Chanel asked Sam.
Sam turned the camera to the side so Chanel could see Yelena. She was sitting cross-legged on the couch with a game controller in her hands and a headset on, Sam's nephews on either side of her.
"Merry Christmas!" Yelena shouted without looking away from the game.
"Wow," Chanel chuckled. "Looks like Sarah has her hands full."
"Very, but you guys are still coming in a few days, right?"
Chanel nodded, "we're going to see Bucky's family tomorrow; we'll fly in after that."
Chanel looked up; Bucky was pacing by the door, trying not to look as impatient as he felt.
"Sam, I gotta go. Bucky wants to play with his new toy."
"Please tell me you're talking about the motorcycle."
"Mostly," Chanel grinned.
The motorcycle zipped through the city, and Chanel held on tightly to Bucky's waist. He was having too much fun, going too fast, weaving in and out of traffic. He was showing off; that's what it was. It was cute. Chanel pushed her body closer to his, wishing she could feel the worn leather of his jacket on her cheek.
She didn't pay attention to where he was going; she closed her eyes and counted his breaths, tried to listen to the pattern of his heart, and tried to feel the blood pumping through his veins. When they stopped suddenly, she opened her eyes. They were surrounded by trees, and Bucky was pulling his helmet off.
"Where are we?" Chanel took off her helmet, shaking out her curls.
"Just a little pit stop. Hop off."
Chanel stretched for just a second before Bucky had picked her up in his strong arms.
"Had to stop to tell you how perfect this is, how perfect this whole Christmas has been." Bucky placed gentle kisses on her eyelids before seeking out her lips. "No one's ever done anything like this for me–ever cared so damn much."
His hand was tangled in her hair, and Chanel didn't have the heart to complain; she let him have it, kissing him back because there were no words left to say.
Bucky sat her on the bike, her back facing the handlebars as he started quickly unbuttoning her pants.
"What are you doing?" Chanel asked, half laughing.
But Bucky wasn't playing around, she yelped as he pulled her jeans down, and her ass made contact with the cold leather.
"You gonna let me show you how much I appreciate you?" Bucky was already kissing up her thighs, not waiting for an answer.
"Fuck–anyone could see us, Buck." Despite her hesitation, Chanel gripped his short hair in an attempt to pull him closer.
"I thought you liked that?" Bucky questioned as he moved her underwear to the side.
"God damn, I've created a monster," Chanel groaned and relaxed as much as she could.
The cold winter air was no match for the warmth of his wet tongue. Heat erupted in every place he touched, burning through her until the chill was long forgotten. And all she could think about was how he was fucking her better with his tongue than some men had ever fucked her–period.
"Please, give me more, Buck." Her lips spoke without her permission; how could she possibly handle more?
But Bucky obliged, gently sliding two thick fingers inside her. "Think you can handle three baby girl?"
His warm breath washed over her clit with each word he panted out, and if he wasn't so damn strong, she would have knocked the bike over by now.
"I'll take that as a yes," Bucky chuckled before sliding a third finger in and picking up his pace.
He found the spot that made her eyes roll back in her head with ease and her toes curled in her leather boots.
"That's it, give it to me," Bucky didn't meet her watering eyes; his hungry gaze was trained on where his fingers were disappearing inside her.
She swore his voice dropped an octave, and she couldn't ignore his command even if she wanted to. His teeth ever so lightly drug across her clit before he soothed it with his tongue, and she came apart for him–nearly sobbing when he praised her for it.
And that was just the first one.
She had no idea how Bucky managed to hold her steady, keep the bike from falling over, and give her some of the best orgasms of her life. But he didn't let up until her thighs were shaking and she was trying to push him away.
"What's the matter? That was only three; you know I appreciate you way more than that." Bucky tried to lean back in, but Chanel pushed his chest hard with her foot.
"Trust me, I'm well aware." She hopped off the bike before Bucky could protest and nearly fell to the ground on her shaky legs. "You can continue appreciating me with a heater and blankets at home."
"Sorry," Bucky smiled sheepishly and opened his arms wide for her to burrow into.
Chanel slid her arms under his jacket and laughed against his chest when he zipped it up, keeping her trapped against him.
Bucky rested his cheek on her head, holding her closer. During moments like these, he still felt like he was dreaming. She only saw him. Not some idealized version from the 40s like Steve always saw, not an unstable psycho like Sam had seen before they were friends. Chanel saw him, all the good and bad, and she loved him more fiercely than anyone he had ever known. To have someone who knew the worst things about him, who saw the scars and the damage, all the broken pieces, and never once flinched away was hard for him to process. He couldn't help the laugh that erupted from his chest at the absurdity of it all.
"What's so funny?" Chanel tilted her head up to look at him.
"I was just thinking about if Steve were still here…I'm not so sure you guys would get along."
"Why? Because I'm defiling his precious Brooklyn baby?"
Bucky snorted out a laugh, "I hadn't considered that, but yeah, that wouldn't help. Honestly, I think you guys would fight over who loved me more."
"Don't flatter yourself too much," Chanel fake gagged and rolled her eyes hard.
Bucky squeezed her tighter when she tried to pull away. "No, seriously. I always felt guilty about how much Steve did for me. I know it was partially motivated by his own guilt over what happened to me."
Bucky paused, remembering the cold wind cutting through his worn coat as he stood on that snowy mountaintop next to Steve. The fear still felt fresh if he allowed it in—it was hard fearing for his friend who had always been reckless but now seemed to be doubly so. The fact that he had the body of a superhero didn't make Bucky worry any less. He would have followed Steve anywhere.
He wasn't sure why these memories were resurfacing, but now that he was talking, he couldn't stop. "For a while, I thought he did it because he loved me. He would come visit me in Wakanda, and I always let myself hope that each visit would be the one. He'd finally stay, and we'd try–you know, that's all I wanted. Just to try."
"He's the only other person you've ever loved, isn't he?"
Bucky frowned at the uncertainty in Chanel's hushed voice. He cleared his throat, pushing thoughts of Steve far from his mind. "Well, yes, but I didn't have much opportunity, did I? Plus," Bucky hurried on before Chanel could interrupt. "At the time, I thought him turning on his friends, and basically the entire US government for me, was romantic. But then you come along and try to take on an entire mob and an unmasked super villain by yourself just so I could enjoy my Christmas? Yeah, Steve would hate you simply for being more dramatic than him."
"I think you have a type, Barnes," Chanel chuckled quietly and pulled out of his embrace. "Let's go home? I'm freezing."
"Sure thing, my love," Bucky smiled and kissed her nose before letting her out of the cocoon he had created. "Here, take my jacket too."
"You'll freeze." Chanel shook her head as Bucky slipped the leather jacket off.
"You can warm me up when we get home."
Chanel took the jacket, smiling at his playful smirk. As she wrapped her arms around his waist, Bucky couldn't help but smile. He found himself going a little faster than necessary, making sharper turns than he usually would have just to feel her squeeze him tighter.
Once she finally got Bucky off the bike and back at the apartment, they had spent the rest of the day cooking, singing and dancing to Christmas songs, and drinking–a lot. Gifts from Shuri had shown up halfway through the day, one of which was an Asgardian ale that she claimed would get Bucky drunk. Chanel was delighted when after one glass, his cheeks turned rosy and his eyes a bit hazy. Now she wouldn't have to drink alone, she downed her glass of wine and encouraged Bucky to have another drink.
"I feel good. Do you feel good?" Bucky asked for the third time as he laid his head in Chanel's lap.
"Yes," Chanel giggled, taking the empty glass out of his hand. "You didn't answer my question."
Bucky turned his head to look up at her, clueless about what she had asked.
"Smash or pass?" Chanel repeated, exasperated. "Thor. What's your answer?"
Bucky hummed thoughtfully for just a moment. "Smash."
"Same." Chanel tilted her head when Bucky scoffed at her answer. "What's so funny about that?"
"Well, I mean–I think I can take it. You're just a feeble human–he'd break you in half."
"Wow," Chanel shook her head, not able to think of anything else to say in response.
"I miss my goats," Bucky pouted, curling more around Chanel.
She barely had time to register what he had said before he stood up, nearly falling over in his haste.
"Where are you going?"
"We gotta go see the goats."
"Bucky," Chanel stumbled over her own feet, trying to get to him. "They're not here."
"They're lonely without me." Bucky pushed her hand off his shoulder, he was trying to give her a matter-of-fact look, but his eyes were too droopy.
Chanel snickered, and soon they were both on the floor in a fit of laughter.
"Stop, my face hurts!" Bucky put his hand over her mouth to stop her giggles. He tried to take deep breaths to control his own uncontrollable laughter, but it just kept coming out.
"I can't–I can't," Chanel closed her eyes, trying her best to stop. "Okay, think of something serious." She took a deep breath.
"Serious–no, I don't want to be serious."
Chanel turned on her side to face him. "Good, me neither. Let's go get some ice cream!"
"It's so fucking cold!" Chanel squealed as she took another bite of her chocolate ice cream.
Bucky had his arm wrapped around her, his ice cream cone half gone. "Well, who gets ice cream when it's snowing outside?"
Chanel shrugged, taking another large bite and shivering. The streets were nearly empty; no one else was out walking around in the snow on Christmas.
"Holy shit," Bucky paused in his tracks, handing Chanel his ice cream cone. "Hold this."
"Buck–what are you–don't do that!" Chanel watched helplessly, her hands full of ice cream, as Bucky clumsily tried to climb up the ledge of a building. His sights were set on a fat pigeon blinking down at him.
"Shh! You'll scare him!"
When Bucky almost fell, Chanel ditched the ice cream and went to pull him down. "What the hell are you doing?"
Bucky shrugged her off, stretching again toward the bird and, to Chanel's surprise, catching it before it flew off.
"Ha! Look!" He quickly turned around, shoving the bird towards Chanel's face.
"Gross! Don't do that!" Chanel jumped back.
"Take a picture for Sam!"
"Why?!" Chanel continued backing away from him.
"Because! Look—" Bucky posed the bird near his face and gave Chanel a dopey smile. "Me and Sam, best friends."
"Bucky–" Chanel tried to hide her smile, not wanting to egg him on. "Please let the bird go; that is so gross."
"Fine, you're no fun." Bucky reluctantly released the bird and reached for her hand.
"Hell no, you are not touching me after that."
Chanel groaned when he gave her a challenging look. "Fuck you," she muttered before she took off, running as fast as her drunk legs would take her.
While she made Bucky shower, Chanel changed into the soft lounge set he had gotten her. She was exhausted from the busy day and didn't wait on him before flopping onto the bed. She was almost asleep when he came out of the bathroom.
"Bucky," she whined as he laid down half on top of her. "Lay on your own side of the bed."
"No, need cuddles," Bucky groused, but he adjusted, moving his weight off her and laying his head down on her ass. "So soft," he murmured, rubbing his hand over the fuzzy material as he snuggled his face in like she was a pillow.
"Wow, you bought me this outfit out of pure selfishness, didn't you?" Chanel tried to hide her laughter, but she couldn't contain it as she looked over her shoulder. He looked absolutely ridiculous.
"I told you that when you opened it."
"You did not say anything about using my ass as a pillow." Chanel tried to wriggle out of his grasp, but he hung on tight.
"Just let me sleep," Bucky groaned, "my head hurts."
"Do you need me to get you something? Water?"
"No," Bucky wrapped an arm around her waist and took a deep breath. "Just you."
Chanel reached back and ruffled his hair. "Sleep, you big baby."
She yelped when Bucky pinched her ass in retaliation.
He was quiet after that, and Chanel assumed he was asleep. She remained still, letting him use her as a pillow even though she was incredibly uncomfortable. Her mind was reeling anyway, the day had been perfect, yet she couldn't stop fixating on Bucky's rambling about Steve. She wasn't threatened–the man was gone. But, something was nagging at her. An immeasurable amount of pressure came with the knowledge that Bucky had only loved two people in his whole life. What if he realized she would never be as good as Steve fucking Rogers?
"Hey–" Bucky's head shot up, his voice sounding urgent.
Chanel jumped, his sudden exclamation making her heart race. "Jesus, I thought you were asleep!"
Bucky shook his head, clearly still out of it. "Were you serious?"
Chanel turned onto her back and gave him a confused look. He looked so serious like this was a life or death matter. He crawled up the bed to her, kneeling as he cupped her face.
"Were you serious?" He repeated, low and urgent.
"About what, Bucky? You need to lay back down." Chanel tried to push him off, assuming the alcohol was taking a turn for the worse and he just needed to sleep it off.
"About the baby!" Bucky's exasperated eyes searched her face like she was the crazy one. "Were you serious about the baby?"
Chanel furrowed her brows, thinking back to what he could be referring to. There was a small amount of agony in his eyes that she couldn't ignore—and suddenly, it clicked, and her eyes widened.
"You said I could put a baby in you, remember?"
Chanel stammered, no words coming out as Bucky's hand trailed over her stomach.
"I want to–" Bucky whispered.
Chanel bit her lip to keep from moaning; she shouldn't encourage this, but he climbed on top of her, and he was so hard, she couldn't help herself. She arched her back, lifting her hips to rub against him.
Bucky grinned the stupidest biggest grin she'd ever seen–the alcohol was definitely still at play.
"Wait, wait, wait, Bucky!" Chanel pushed his chest, stopping him from pulling her pants down.
"What?" Bucky's smile dropped.
Chanel held his face, his stupid baby face, in her hands and took a settling breath. "Bucky, that was just sex. I don't want a baby–at least not anytime soon. Someday maybe, I mean, I don't even know how that would work–you know, with our jobs–and—"
Bucky shushed her with a gentle kiss. "It's okay," he sighed against her lips. "I don't know what I was thinking."
Chanel pulled him down and laid his head on her chest. "I like the idea of it, though," she admitted, rubbing his back gently.
Bucky tilted his head to look at her; he looked sleepy now. "Tell me."
Chanel chuckled, scratching his scalp as he laid back down and closed his eyes. "I like the idea of you holding a little baby in your big beefy arms. I like the idea of you pushing a stroller and carrying around a diaper bag. Watching you make lunches, kiss boo-boos, and read bedtime stories. And you obviously know I'm very into the idea of trying. Even if it's not real for now."
"Oh, I'm well aware," Bucky snickered. "Daddy, please," he imitated her fucked out moaning, and laughed harder when Chanel hit his shoulder.
"I swear I'm never letting you drink again. You're a mess."
"But I love you." Bucky nuzzled against her, and Chanel rolled her eyes.
"Goodnight, baby." Chanel pulled the comforter up to his chin and smiled to herself when he fell asleep instantly.
Drinking the night before visiting long-lost family members he'd never met and his younger sister, who was now technically older than him whom he'd also thought was dead, was probably not the brightest idea Bucky had ever had. Granted, he had done some pretty outrageous things in his life. He sat on the edge of the bed, dressed and ready to go with a pounding headache and an annoying swirl in his stomach.
"How about this one?" Chanel asked; her voice sounded higher for some reason, and this was the seventh outfit she had tried on.
Bucky bit his tongue to stop the wrong words from coming out. "I love it, doll."
"Bucky," Chanel groaned, turning on her heel and going back into the closet.
"What? I'm serious!"
"You didn't even look!" Chanel tossed the dress out of the closet; it landed on the pile of other discarded garments that hadn't met her standards.
Bucky pressed the heel of his palms into his eyes. "You look amazing in everything, you know that. It's just a family gathering; they're not going to care."
Chanel stomped out of the closet, only wearing her bra and tights, her hair still pinned up on her head. "They will care!"
Bucky held up his hands in defeat, wincing at the volume of her voice. He really shouldn't have drank last night–he hadn't been hungover in decades. Had it always been this horrible?
"Do we have time to stop at Barney's?"
"Who?"
Chanel rolled her eyes. "The store, Bucky! I bet I could find something that would impress them in there."
Bucky groaned and grabbed her wrist to stop her pacing. "Doll, please, you're way overthinking this. Just put on a pair of jeans and a sweater for all I care–they're going to love you because I love you."
Chanel stuck her hip out, pouting. "I just–I know how important this is to you. I want to be perfect."
Bucky shook his head, pulling her into his lap. "You're already perfect; that's what I'm trying to tell you if you would just listen."
Chanel ducked her chin, but not before Bucky caught a glimpse of her smile. "You're so grumpy today, Barnes. Can't handle your liquor?"
"Oh no, we're not starting with that," Bucky grabbed her face, squeezing her cheeks slightly as he lifted her face. "What's my name?"
Bucky watched the glint in her eyes as she squirmed in his lap. He could tell she was going over her options; she had called him many things–and she was deciding how she wanted this to turn out.
"James?" She said with faux confusion.
Bucky fought the forming grin and forced his face to look disappointed before landing a firm smack on her ass. "Try again."
Chanel giggled and jumped out of his lap. "I'm sorry, Bucky, I'll get dressed now."
"Brat," Bucky huffed under his breath.
"I heard that!" Chanel called from the closet, making him grin.
She was worth the wait; she always was. The black and white plaid skirt hugged her thick thighs in a way that had him feeling jealous over a damn piece of fabric. The white long-sleeved blouse she had tucked into it was conservative, yet Bucky still managed to conjure up images of his hands underneath it.
"Ready to go?" She asked as she slipped her coat on.
"Almost; I want to show you something."
"What is it?" Chanel sat down next to him at the kitchen table.
He fidgeted with his phone for a minute before showing her the screen. It was an app Shuri had made just for him to control certain features of his vibranium arm.
"What am I looking at, Buck?" Chanel looked between him and the phone.
"It's a Christmas gift from Shuri–new upgrades to the arm."
"Oh, like what?" Chanel raised her brows in excitement.
Bucky shrugged, "There's a palm sensor, so only I can fire my guns. Though, I should have her add your prints too. But this is what I wanted to show you."
Bucky held his vibranium arm out and clicked a button on the phone. Chanel gasped as the black and gold slowly disappeared, and his left arm transformed into what appeared to be human flesh.
Chanel reached out slowly, running her hands over his arm, twisting and squeezing it.
Bucky gave a half-smile, not meeting her eyes just yet. "It's normal, now."
"Put it back."
"What?" Bucky looked up, surprised to find a slight hint of anger in her eyes.
"Put it back. You are normal just the way you are, don't say things like that."
"You don't like it? I thought it might be nice for today to avoid the stares and the questions."
Chanel hesitated like she wasn't sure what answer he was looking for. "I like you how you are, but–if it makes you comfortable…."
Bucky clicked the button again, and Chanel visibly relaxed when his arm switched back.
"I'm sorry, I didn't think you'd be upset."
Chanel shook her head and grabbed his hand. "You shouldn't have to hide any part of you, baby. I don't know why Shuri would even–"
"Hey, it's okay," Bucky soothed, rubbing his thumb against her palm. "It is a nice feature to have for undercover missions. Everyone will see this thing coming a mile away."
"Okay, point taken. Missions only." Chanel laughed and the sound made Bucky's stomach flip, it always did.
Bucky relaxed too; he hadn't realized how tense he had been waiting for her reaction. When he first saw the feature, he had mixed feelings; on the one hand, he could make others feel more comfortable and get fewer stares less questions. But on the other, he worried that Chanel might like him better that way, that he'd have to use it all the time. Again he found himself laughing about the absurdity of his life. He still remembered the days when he wished that silver metal would melt off his body and never return. The relief he felt when he realized Stark had shot it clean off of him. But this new one, made with nothing but love and forgiveness in Wakanda–he didn't want to hide it, not all the time.
"Are you still drunk, Barnes?"
Bucky pulled her up from the table, quieting his laughter as he kissed her cheek and moved his lips to her ear. "If you're going to keep being bad, I don't want to hear any complaints when you're facing your punishment later. Understood?"
Bucky grinned as he felt her shiver in his hands.
She pulled his left hand to her lips and gently sucked two of his cold fingers into her mouth, twirling her tongue around them before pulling them back out. "Can't wait, James."
With that, she walked away, grabbing her ugly yellow purse and waiting for him at the front door with a pleased smile. Bucky shook his head, she was a handful, but at least he could count on her to distract him from the nerves he had been trying to suppress all morning.
With her by his side, he felt he could do anything, face anything, be anything. He wrapped his arm around her waist as they left the apartment. He was excited. That was a new feeling. Typically he would have an anxiety attack over the idea of walking into a room full of strangers. But he held onto the image of his little sister. He was going to see Betty, and that's all that mattered. She might actually even be proud of him; he was technically an Avenger now, he had friends, he had a pretty girl on his arm–and yes, that was his 40's ladies man mentality speaking. Still, he couldn't help but feel proud every time he glanced at Chanel cozied up to his side. He felt so human after spending so long feeling like anything but. He was grinning from ear to ear as they walked down the street, and if Chanel found it odd, she kept it to herself, smiling at him every now and then.
"We have to make a stop," Bucky announced, pulling Chanel toward a little boutique that caught his eye.
"What for?"
"Before I left for the war, I promised my sister that I'd bring her back something pretty. I intend to keep that promise."