40s Boys - Bucky Barnes & Steve Rogers Oneshots

bucky barnes - cheer up, buttercup

Summary: Bucky Barnes x fem!reader fluff; the Great Depression has been hard, and (y/n) is feeling especially down today. Bucky tries his best to cheer her up.
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You look out the window quietly, watching automobiles pass on the dull Brooklyn streets below. You didn't own a car; they were much too expensive - a luxury neither you, Bucky, or Steve could afford. The three of you combined could barely pay the rent on your apartment, let alone afford a car.

Today had been pretty rough. You came home sadly, finding an empty house. Bucky and Steve were both working still, but unfortunately, you had lost your job at the diner today.

"I'm so sorry, (y/n). It's hard for all of us," Your boss, Betty, had said when she gave you the news. But it wasn't just you they let go; at least five other employees were fired as well.

It was selfish of you to think that you should have been one of the employees who got to stay. But money was thin - you were already getting paid below your usual salary - simply due to the lack of income. Everyone was practically dirt poor, and just barely scraping by.

You walked home in tears; how would you be able to do your part in paying rent or buying food? You listened to your heels click on the pavement briskly as you approach the red brick apartment building.

You kicked off your shoes by the door, and ran to the restroom to wash off your streaked makeup.

After laying on the couch, crying for a while, and dwelling on the feelings of absolute worthlessness, you got up and moved to the window - where you stand now, feeling dull and gloomy like the streets outside.

You scolded yourself in your head for thinking the bad thoughts about yourself, knowing that it definitely wouldn't help anything.

From behind, you hear a jangle of keys and the door opens and closes. Footsteps shuffle through the kitchen, and you hear a tired sigh. You recognize the sounds as Bucky, who must have gotten home a tad early from work.

"Oh! Hey, Doll! What're you doin' home so early?" Bucky asks as he enters the living room, surprised at your appearance.

"Oh, I, um.." You stutter out, but have no words to say as you slowly turn around to look at your best friend.

Bucky's cheerful expression falls immediately into one of worry and concern when he sees your tear-stained face and puffy pink cheeks.

"(Y/N)? Hey, hey, what's wrong?" He asks, setting his bag down on the couch and hurrying over to you.

Bucky's eyebrows are furrowed up sadly at your state. As soon as he reaches you he wraps his arms around you, letting you bury yourself into his chest. The gesture makes your eyes start to water, and you sniff quietly. You felt so guilty, and you couldn't shake the feeling.

"What's wrong, Sweetheart?" Bucky asks gently, rubbing your back.

You sniffle, trying to regain your voice. "I.. Today, I- I lost my job," You stutter, lip wobbling as you lower your eyes to your bare feet and Bucky's boots.

Bucky lets out a soft sigh, and hugs you tighter against him. He wordlessly leans down and rests his chin on top of your head, comfortingly pressing his lips into your messy hair.

"It's okay, (y/n). It's gonna be alright." Bucky murmurs into your hair, stroking your shoulders and back with one hand.

"But it's not!" You whimper softly. "How will I do my part? How will I provide for all of us?"

Bucky pulls back just enough to look you in the eyes. He cups your jaw with one hand while the other is still wrapped around your waist.

"Sweetheart," Bucky speaks gently, and you shift your gaze to meet his. "it's gonna be okay, I promise. I'm going to take care of you."

Bucky's words were sincere and dripping with care. You don't say anything, but nod. You realize you were holding bunches of his shirt balled up in your fists, and let go, letting your arms rest loosely around Bucky's waist.

Hot tears pool in your eyes again. You were so ashamed of yourself. Did you not do a good enough job to be kept?

"Hey," Bucky notices and wipes away a tear from your cheek with his thumb. "Sugar, don't cry. Don't cry, Baby Doll, it's gonna be alright."

You let out a small sigh and lean forward, resting your head on Bucky's shoulder and nuzzling your nose into the crook of his neck. "I love when you call me those names," You admit, sniffling a little.

Bucky wraps his arms around your waist and slowly starts to rock the two of you back and forth. "Guess I'll have to call you them more often, huh?" He replies, and you giggle quietly, nodding your head.

"Please," You murmur.

"Okay, Sugar, would you let me dance with you?" Bucky asks, resting the side of his head against yours.

"Would you?" You ask softly, and Bucky smiles a little.

"Of course, Doll."

And so Bucky places one hand on your hip and takes yours in his other, making sure to lace your fingers together before leading you in a slow dance around the living room.

You didn't have a radio for music, but Bucky was happy to sing for you, and so he did. He spun you around the tiny living room and sang the old cheesy songs that he knew you loved.

He twirls you until you laugh aloud, and even dips you down playfully a couple of times, just to see your smile.

With every thing going on, Bucky still knew exactly the way to cheer you up. He always did.

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