semi_stable: made by <lj user="malagraphic"> (fondly amused)
[personal profile] semi_stable
It's been a very long time since Bucky actually celebrated Christmas. It was a big deal growing up, even if his parents didn't always have money for gifts. His mom always at least made them something, like a hand-knitted sweater for him or dresses for his sisters, and his dad always made sure to bring home a hearty meal, even in the toughest of times. It wasn't about the gifts, anyway. Bucky just loved the spirit of it all growing up, the giving and togetherness. He loved the way the lights looked twinkling against the snow, and having snowball fights with friends in the park.

And then came war, where Christmas meant extra whiskey and rations and little else. Then came everything after, where there was no Christmas at all.

Last year, his first Christmas in Darrow, his first in relative peace in almost eighty years, he didn't feel much in the spirit. He bought Bopp some new toys and got Chinese takeout for himself, but the holiday passed with little fanfare.

This year, though. This year is different. He feels himself getting into the spirit, and maybe it's because he has friends and a home. More than that, thanks to Loki and Sylvie, he has family again.

It starts on impulse, with him buying a tree when he passes a cheerful little lot in the city, and then realizing that he needs lights and ornaments for the tree. That leads him to him buying icicle lights to put up across the front of his house, Christmas collars for Bopp and Alpine, and some high quality hot cocoa mix.

He cuts himself off after that, and puts on some classic Christmas songs while decorating his little tree. It makes him happy, along with wistful and nostalgic and so homesick it makes him ache, but he enjoys himself. All he's missing now is his new found family, so he sends a text to the group chat he created with Sylvie and Loki.

Want to spend Christmas Eve at my place?

It takes some doing, but he manages to get Bopp and Alpine together and still in the same photo, sitting in front of the crackling fireplace and decked out in their sparkly collars, and sends that as well. They'll probably find it adorable and ridiculous in somewhat equal measure, and the thought makes Bucky smile.

Date: 2023-02-15 01:53 am (UTC)
thewrongpath: (pic#15104273)
From: [personal profile] thewrongpath
"He talks big, doesn't he?" Loki murmured, smiling against Bucky's jaw as he leaned in to follow the path of his hand, their fingers laced together over the softness of Sylvie's stomach.

Pulling back momentarily, he took one last sip from his mug then, with a flick of his wrist, it seemed to disappear and reappear safely on the coffee table.

"But now I know he's lying. I've never been accused of being good in my life."

Date: 2023-02-15 05:18 pm (UTC)
the_variant: (127)
From: [personal profile] the_variant
"Nor I," she agrees. "Clearly he's full of shit."

These words, ones that could be harsh, especially coming from her, are almost fond as Sylvie tilts her head a little to watch them better. Their hands are warm on her skin and she lifts her hips a little, encouraging them both.

"Does Santa not arrival with blowjobs and orgasms for the parents?" she asks, at this point entirely giving Bucky a hard time for the sheer joy of it. "Only obnoxious toys for the children? That hardly seems like a tradition worth keeping."

Date: 2023-02-21 02:59 am (UTC)
thewrongpath: (Default)
From: [personal profile] thewrongpath
"Certainly," Loki murmured, smirking as he took Bucky's mug, which reappeared on the coffee table in the same manner as his own. Their hands venturing under Sylvie's sweater, Loki curved his palm, warmed from the mug, against the back of Bucky's neck and pulled him into a kiss. A kiss for the two of them, but for her as well, knowing she was watching them both intently.

His thumb brushed over her nipple through the simple cotton of her bra just as his tongue slipped between Bucky's parted lips, one act in counterpoint to the other, as if the three of them made a flowing circuit.
Edited Date: 2023-02-21 03:00 am (UTC)

Date: 2023-02-24 10:10 pm (UTC)
the_variant: (122)
From: [personal profile] the_variant
They're beautiful together. Even if she weren't part of this, she would think so, although some part of her would be broken, left on the outside. It occurs to her often how dangerous this is, the way she's allowed them to get inside, get under her skin, into her heart, beyond her defenses.

Truly, she'd been doomed long before Darrow, stomping around in those first weeks, furious with Loki for not being here and furious with herself for wanting him. There likely wasn't ever a point in trying to resist any of this.

It was dangerous to give in, but she's glad she did.

Her hand comes up to cover theirs beneath her shirt, her own mug disappearing and reappearing on the table as well as she arches into Loki's touch against her nipple. The fingers of her other hand sneak up toward the back of Bucky's neck as well where she meets Loki's fingers, threads her own through his.

"If this is my gift, it's very pretty," she murmurs, smirking slightly, her head tipped against the couch cushion.

Date: 2023-03-01 02:00 am (UTC)
thewrongpath: (Default)
From: [personal profile] thewrongpath
"Yes, it is, isn't it?" Loki murmured absently, his mouth going dry as he watched the pink of Bucky's tongue circling Sylvie's nipple, his own fingers curved around the swell of her breast. His other, he worked beneath her to flick open the clasp of her bra, then he was reaching for the hem of Bucky's sweater, rucking the soft fabric up the other man's torso.

For the moment, he was happy to sit back and watch them, a deep, startling affection nearly overwhelming his growing lust. It was absurd, feeling such things for anyone, let alone these two. A goddess, who happened to be a version of himself, and a super soldier who'd once fought alongside his enemies.

And yet, here he was.

Date: 2023-03-03 04:47 pm (UTC)
the_variant: (Default)
From: [personal profile] the_variant
“Don’t think for a second the two of you can distract me from presents with sex,” Sylvie says, a blatant lie evident in the breathlessness of her voice as Loki unhooks her bra. As ever, her underwear is simple, practical, black cotton, but somehow when she’s with them, even the simplest things make her feel utterly beautiful.

Her back arches slightly, pressing herself into Loki’s hand, Bucky’s mouth, and she wants to be touching them both so badly. Pinned to the couch by Bucky, though, she can only open her eyes and meet Loki’s gaze as he pushes up Bucky’s sweater.

“Come here,” she says to him, one hand on Bucky, her palm warm against the back of his neck, the other reaching for Loki. “Kiss me.”

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Bucky Barnes

May 2025

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