40s Boys - Bucky Barnes & Steve Rogers Oneshots

bucky barnes - can't help falling in love

Summary: Bucky Barnes x fem!reader, sad fluff , haha i cried writing this
*we're going to pretend the song "can't help falling in love" by elvis came out in the 40s okay*
•••

"C'mon and dance with me!" Bucky would laugh, pulling you to your feet. You would take his hands and Steve would turn on the radio for you.

It was an everyday thing: You and Bucky would dance in the living room of the apartment until your feet hurt, usually ending in a crumpled pile in the floor, and laughing until tears rolled down your cheeks.

You loved to dance. Steve wasn't much of a dancer, but if you begged him hard enough, he'd give it a go, just for you. Being almost the same size as him, it was great fun. But with Steve being as frail as he was, and the same size as you, well, there was no lifting or holding up in the air.

Bucky, however, was the dancer. And lucky for you, he loved dancing just as much as you if not more. He was the one strong enough to lift you up in the air and twirl you around, the one who rarely got his footwork messed up, and the one who was always teaching you new moves. Bucky loved to dance with you. Wether slow or fast, he was always up for it.

And while the two of you danced, Steve manned the radio, having just as good of a time watching. Sharing an apartment with your two best friends was the best thing you ever could've asked for.

Every time you danced with Bucky, you could feel yourself falling even more in love with him. At first you rejected the idea of falling in love with your best friend, but what you didn't realize was that Bucky was falling for you at the same time.

You loved the way he looked at you while you danced, with blue eyes sparkling and a smile that never left his lips. A memory you could hold onto forever.

Until one day when he didn't smile when he returned home from work. It was late, and Steve had already padded to his room to sleep. But as always, you waited for Bucky in the living room with the radio quietly playing to keep you company. When he finally entered the apartment, he could hardly look up from the ground and you knew instantly something was wrong. There were a few assorted papers in his hands, but before you could question what they were, he'd already kicked off his shoes and made his way to you; taking your hands and pulling you up off the sofa.

You stay quiet, watching Bucky carefully. He glanced up at the ceiling, not daring to look at your questioning eyes as he leads you to your dancing spot.

However, instead of taking one hand and resting the other on your waist like he usually did, Bucky placed both hands gently on your hips and pulled you close to him.

"What's wrong, James?" You whisper, swaying gently with him.

Bucky looks down, bottom lip captured between his teeth before speaking. "I got somethin' to tell you." He mumbles.

"Anything, Bucky." You murmur to him, lifting a hand off of his collarbone to stroke his cheek.

Bucky leans into your touch almost desperately, looking straight into your eyes before carefully unfolding the paper he held behind your back. He hands the torn envelope to you, and you take it gently, glancing up at him before opening it.

Bucky's hands fold on the small of your back, arms encasing your waist as your eyes scan the letter he received.

The shock hit you hard, and you freeze up, holding the letter numbly in your hands. Bucky leans his forehead against yours, looking down at the letter with you.

A small drop lands on the yellow paper, and you realize it as one of your tears. You look up to Bucky at the same time he looks up at you.

Bucky's forehead wrinkles and his eyebrows furrow, blue eyes glassy as he watches you cry. His lips curl and tremble, and soon enough a small sob of his own escapes them.