Clint immediately fired a snowball at Sam, while Wanda conjured up several smaller snowballs in the air, launching them with deadly accuracy. You ducked behind a pile of snow, peering around it to assess your next move.

And then, you saw Bucky. He was standing there, clearly not engaged.

Big mistake.

He was your favorite target, and you couldn’t resist. The former solider was in for a fun surprise. You giggled to yourself as you made a snowball, aimed, and with a satisfying thwack, it hit him square in the chest.

Wanda and Clint started laughing. 

Steve and Sam gave each other a knowing look.

Bucky did not find the same humor in the situation. In fact, he looked like he wanted to choke you.

Bucky’s expression darkened as he brushed the snow off, his jaw tightening. His eyes narrowed into slits as they met yours.

“You did not just do that, sweetheart” he growled, his voice low and dangerous.

You didn’t even flinch. In fact, you grinned. “Oh, I did. And it was a perfect shot. You’re welcome.”

“Your little ass is in trouble now.” Bucky started walking out from his team’s side of the yard. His eyes locked onto you, like a predator ready to devour their prey. Your face flushed red, but not from the cold.

“Oh, shit,” you muttered, realizing he wasn’t going to show you mercy this time.

You started to run away, but a few giggles slipped past your lips.

“You better run, sunshine!” Bucky called after you.

You sprinted toward the trees. As you glanced behind you, you realized Bucky was closing in fast.

You tried to zigzag through the trees, but he followed you with scarily accurate precision. You were smart, fast even, but you were no match for Bucky Barnes.

“We can talk this out, we’re both reasonable adults.” You smiled up at him, trying your best to reason with him.

He chuckled darkly as you moved towards you and your back hit the tree.

“I am too young to die!” you screamed, although you knew there was no danger. Bucky was a big softie for you.

“You gotta learn, sunshine.” Without warning, he scooped you up in his arms and threw you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. You let out a squeak and you slapped your hand against his back.

“Bucky!” you yelped, laughing in disbelief. “You’re such a cheater! Manhandling is not included in snowball fights!”

“Fuck the rules, sunshine,” he grumbled. “You should’ve thought of that before you hit me with that snowball.”

You huffed, giving into the inevitable and went limp in his arms.

He marched right up to the snowbank and dumped you into it. You landed with a soft thud and you scrambled to sit up, a small pout on your lips

“Oh, come on!” you laughed, brushing snow off your coat. “This is how you’re gonna play it? Throwing me in the snow?”

Bucky stood over you, arms crossed, a cocky smirk tugging at his lips. “You started this, not me.”

You shot him a look from beneath your tangled hair, puffing out a breath in frustration. “I made a perfect shot! It was nothing personal.”

His expression softened slightly, but only for a second. “You are impossible.”

You stood up, brushing yourself off. "Oh, I’m impossible, huh? You’re the one who lost, Bucky."

Bucky laughed in amusement at your smart mouth. “I think you’re forgetting who’s really in charge here, sweetheart. Maybe you need some discipline, hm?”

You grabbed his arm and tugged with all your might and the two of you tumbled backward into the snow.

“I’ll teach you some respect,” Bucky muttered, his hands suddenly pinning yours into the snow, the weight of his body pressing down on you. “You think you can get away with anything you do, you little troublemaker?”

“Yup,” you smiled, looking up at him. “Because I know you won’t hurt me.”

Bucky glared down at you, though the flicker of amusement in his eyes didn’t escape you. “You are lucky you’re cute, sunshine.”

You shivered suddenly, the cold biting harder now that the fun had gone on long enough. You tried to hide it, but Bucky noticed immediately. His expression softened in an instant.

“You’re freezing,” he muttered, glancing down at you with something softer in his eyes.

Before you could even respond, Bucky moved, lifting you effortlessly into his arms, guiding your hand around his neck.

“Bucky, what-” you started, but he just shook his head, his face still serious despite the small hint of concern there.

“I’m taking you inside,” he said, already walking toward the compound. “You’re not getting any warmer in this cold.”

You leaned your head against his shoulder, a small, content smile tugging at your lips despite yourself. “I’m not a baby, you know,” you teased, but the warmth of his embrace was undeniable.

As Bucky carried you inside, you could hear Sam and Steve laughing.

“In all the decades I’ve known him, I’ve never seen Bucky so whipped,” Steve said, shaking his head, a grin plastered across his face. “She’s got him wrapped around her little finger.”

Sam chuckled. “Yup, Bucky’s definitely in deep. I think she might be in charge here.”

You could hear Bucky mutter something under his breath as he pushed through the door open, but he didn’t correct them. He didn’t need to. Everyone could see it. The tough, grumpy soldier had met his match in you.

You readjusted yourself in his arms, snuggling closer. Your nose brushes against the side of his neck and you catch a whiff of his cologne that makes you want to drown in his scent.

It’s starting out to be the best holiday season.

Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed! I hope to get out another one shot tonight and tomorrow. They might be much shorter though, but fingers crossed :)

If you'd like to be added to my taglist

Much love x

“I talk to him all the time,” I said, feigning indifference.

JJ just gave me a knowing smile. “Sure you do.”

She wasn’t wrong, though. I did talk to Spencer all the time. I was one of the few people he seemed comfortable enough to really open up to, and our conversations were some of the highlights of my day. But tonight, under the glow of Christmas lights, something felt… different.

I crossed the room, weaving through clusters of my teammates, until I reached his corner. He looked up, startled, when I sat down next to him.

“Hey,” I said, smiling.

“Hey,” he replied, setting his mug down. “Enjoying the party?”

“Yeah,” I said, leaning back against the wall. “You?”

“It’s nice,” he said, his voice soft. “A little overwhelming, but nice.”

I nodded, understanding completely. “I saw you reading earlier. What is it this time? Something festive?”

He hesitated, glancing at the book before sliding it toward me. It was a leather-bound copy of A Christmas Carol.

“Classic,” I said, impressed.

“It’s one of my favorites,” he admitted. “There’s something timeless about it—Scrooge’s transformation, the idea that it’s never too late to change.”

“Leave it to you to find the deeper meaning in a Christmas story,” I teased.

Spencer smiled, the corners of his mouth twitching upward. “It’s a good story.”

“It is,” I agreed. “But you know, you’ve been staring at that same page for the past ten minutes.”

His cheeks flushed, and he quickly closed the book. “I, uh… I got distracted.”

“By what?” I asked, leaning forward, curious.

“Nothing,” he said quickly, avoiding my gaze.

“Spencer,” I said, my tone teasing. “You’re the worst liar I’ve ever met.”

He groaned, running a hand through his hair. “Okay, fine. I might have been… looking at you.”

That caught me off guard. “Me?”

He nodded, his face growing redder by the second. “You just… you look really nice tonight.”

I blinked, my heart skipping a beat. Spencer Reid, the man who could rattle off statistics about anything and everything, was suddenly flustered.

“Thank you,” I said softly, my own cheeks warming. “You look nice too.”

Before he could respond, Penelope’s voice rang out across the room.

“Attention, everyone!” she called, clapping her hands. “It’s time for our favorite holiday tradition—mistletoe!”

The room erupted into cheers and groans as Penelope grabbed her sprig of mistletoe and started weaving her way through the crowd, stopping pairs and insisting they partake in the tradition.

“Oh, no,” Spencer muttered, sinking deeper into his chair.

“Oh, yes,” I said, grinning. “You’re not getting out of this one, genius.”

“I don’t see why mistletoe is such a big deal,” he said, his voice rising slightly. “Did you know it’s actually a parasitic plant? It attaches itself to a host tree and siphons off nutrients to survive.”

“You really know how to kill the mood, don’t you?” I teased.

Spencer opened his mouth to respond, but before he could, Penelope appeared beside us, brandishing the mistletoe like a weapon.

“Well, well, well,” she said, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “What do we have here? My two favorite geniuses hiding in the corner?”

“We’re not hiding,” I said quickly.

“Uh-huh,” Penelope said, clearly unconvinced. She dangled the mistletoe above our heads. “Rules are rules, my friends.”

Spencer groaned softly, and I couldn’t help but laugh.

“You’re not getting out of this one, Spence,” I said, leaning closer.

He hesitated, his eyes searching mine. “You know,” he said quietly, “hands actually transfer more germs than mouths. Statistically, this is the safer option.”

I raised an eyebrow, smirking. “Is that your way of saying you want to kiss me?”

“I—well—I didn’t mean—”

“Spencer,” I said, cutting him off. “Relax. It’s just a kiss.”

And before he could overthink it, I leaned in, pressing my lips softly against his.

The room seemed to fade away, the laughter and music melting into the background. His lips were warm, tentative at first, but as he relaxed, the kiss deepened just slightly, a perfect mix of sweetness and surprise.

When we finally pulled back, his eyes were wide, his cheeks flushed.

“That… wasn’t so bad,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

“No,” I agreed, smiling. “It wasn’t.”

Penelope clapped her hands, breaking the spell. “That was adorable!”

Spencer groaned again, burying his face in his hands, and I couldn’t help but laugh.

“Come on, genius,” I said, nudging him playfully. “Let’s go find some more eggnog.”