40s Boys - Bucky Barnes & Steve Rogers Oneshots

bucky barnes - pretend

Summary: protective Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader fluff
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"Hey, (y/l/n)!" A rough voice calls your name from behind you, and a dreadful shiver passes through your body.

"Damn it," You mutter under your breath, and keep walking down the street as if you didn't hear your name, heels clicking faster against the pavement.

"What's a knockout like you doin' on these streets?" The man picks up on your pace and stands in front of you.

"I was making my way home. What do you want, Ricky?"

"I was wonderin' if you'd heard about the dance they're havin' tomorrow night at Lee's Place?"

You feel your stomach twist - if Ricky Carter thought you were going to accompany him to the dance, he was dead wrong. But you reply politely anyways. "Oh, yes, I have."

"Well I hope to see you there, Honey." Ricky grins at you. "Bring your dancing shoes."

"Maybe." You reply, and walk past him.

You despised that man. All throughout school that bastard would pick on you; not in the bullying way, more of a cat-calling creepy kind of way. Ricky Carter definitely thought of himself as a ladies man. He made you more scared than attracted.

The upcoming dance was dreadful to even think about now. Lee's Place was a regular favorite for holding parties and dances. And this dance was going to be big. Danny Lee, the owner, invited everyone in town, including the diner you worked at. And having known Danny for several years, you didn't want to upset him by not showing.

You cross the street, approaching the red brick building you called home. As soon as you enter your apartment on the second floor, you slip off your heels and let out a loud sigh.

"That you, (y/n)?" Bucky's voice floats out from the kitchen.

"Yeah." You reply, shrugging your jacket over your shoulders and hanging it on the hook by the door.

"Dag nabbit, it's my turn to cook, isn't it?" You groan as you enter the kitchen. You were late; cooking now would take forever.

"We gotcha covered, kid!" Steve enters the kitchen behind you.

"Oh, boys, that's.." You sink into your chair at the wooden table. "Hey, I'm not a kid."

"Alright, would you prefer the term 'adult', or 'woman'?" Steve asks sassily.

"(y/n)'s fine, thanks." You reply, a tired smirk on your face as you raise an eyebrow at Steve.

"Aw, button it, kids." Bucky says and sets a pot of soup on the table. Steve grins and you giggle softly.

Later in the evening, your party of three moved into the sitting room. The dishes were cleaned and the table was wiped down. You were in your night clothes with a book in your lap while the radio played softly in the corner.

"You goin' to the dance tomorrow?" You hear Bucky murmur to Steve.

"I dunno, Buck." Steve shrugs, thumbing through last Sunday's newspaper. "Y'know 'm not much of a dancer."

"What about you, (y/n)?" Bucky asks, propping an elbow on the arm of the couch and resting his cheek against his palm.

"I've got to. Danny invited the whole diner." You reply, turning a page in your book.

"I guess I'll go, then." Bucky says. "Keep you company."

//

The next day at the diner was a bit hectic. You only got a few cents in tips, which was regular, but one of the customers was not very polite to you, and twice a kid purposely made a mess that you had to clean up.