Subtle Acts Of Love

Since I can't decide who to write for next and I've got a couple fics in the works for both of them, I'll let yall decide in my very first poll :)

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Every Morning

Summary: soap helps you with your skincare

Warnings: none just fluff :)

Pairing: John "soap" mactavish x gf!reader

Word Count-~1k

A/n: this is my first time writing for Soap Mactavish(actually any of the 141) so it may be pretty rough. This story was inspired by the lovely 🫧 anon on @uselsshuman blog! My requests are open for any of the 141 characters so please send in any requests you want! As always beware of typos but I hope you all enjoy!❣️

You were almost religious with your skincare. You took pride in taking care of your skin and it was something you loved doing in the morning. You loved the routine of layering your skin in different serums and creams and watching them work their magic. Whenever Johnny was home, he loved watching you from the bathroom doorway or sitting on the toilet seat. Because of his job you two didn’t get to share many domestic or intimate moments like this so Soap took what he could get. Soap always pestered you to let him do it for you and you always said no.

“Come on hen I could it!” Was something you always heard when he was home and you smiled but said no.

You were staring at yourself in the mirror getting ready to wash your face when Soap woke up; he had always been a heavy sleeper, something that was a blessing when he was a teenager but something that could get him killed in his line of work. Whenever he was home you did your best not to disturb him because you knew he didn't get much sleep when he was gone. Soap felt for your warm body and when he was met with cold sheets he took a look around to see the bathroom light on. The clock on his bedside table read “10:30”. He stretched and rolled out of bed to find you.

“Mornin’ Bonnie,” he said, walking over to your shared bathroom, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, his thick accent thicker with sleep. “Morning babe,” you smiled, grabbing your face wash and a towel. His eyes lit up whe he saw your face wash and bottles of serums lined up on the counter. You saw him eyeing your bottles and shook your head, a smile already forming on your face. “No Johnny no!” You said, knowing exactly what he was going to ask. “Oh please Bonnie!” He whined, wrapping his arms around your waist, resting his head on your shoulder.

You only wore a tank top so his stubble scratched your bare shoulder. “Johnny you don’t even know how to do it!” You laughed, making eye contact through the mirror. “Yes I do, I watch you all the time,” He replied, kissing and sucking on the sweet spot on your neck trying to get you to fold. “Johnny no st-” you started before he reached down to squeeze your ass. “Okay alright,” You laughed. “You won’t regret this bonnie,” he said, planting a kiss on your cheek with a smile too big for his face. “I think I already am,” You mumbled.

“Okay first thing is washing your face hen everyone knows that,” He said, turning on the hot water. “Of course,” You said, watching him reach in front of you to turn on the hot water. Soap squirted some face wash and his hands and worked it into a lather before rubbing it onto your face. You winced at how rough he rubbed the soap into your skin but didn’t say anything. You also didn’t say anything when he got soap in your eye and tried your best not to wince at the sting. “Okay time to rinse,” he said and you leaned forward rinsing off the soap, the stinging sensation finally going away.

He grabbed a towel and rubbed your face dry before picking up you up by the waist and setting you on the counter. He stepped in between your legs and you had to widen your legs to accommodate him. “Okay first bottle we’re gonna do is this nia…niacin..” He said, struggling to pronounce the name written on the label. “Niacinamide?” You offered, trying not to chuckle. “Yeah that’s it,” He smiled and you wanted to tell him he wasn’t supposed to use it yet but you kept quiet. “What’s this for?” He asked. “It does a lot of things but it mainly helps with pores and textural irregularities,” You told him.

Johnny nodded and used the pipette to drop the serum onto your face and you were surprised that he was gentle in his kneading compared to the face wash. “Does that feel nice hen?” He asked and you smiled. “Of course it does love,” You said. “Okay now for the hylronic acid,” He said, and you couldn’t help but laugh at how he pronounced the name. “This one is to help bring moisture back into my skin,” You told him, knowing he was going to ask.

“I can’t believe you do this every morning bonnie,” he said, emphasizing the “every morning” in disbelief. “So many steps,” said Soap, screwing the tiny lid back onto the bottle. You hadn’t realize how small his hands made the bottles seem. “Every morning,” you emapsized. “I do it at night too,” you smiled and he shook his head. “Caffeine and de puffing,” he looked at the tiny bottle in his hand. “You put it on my undereyes. It helps to de-puff and energize them,” You instructed him. Johnny put some of the thick liquid on your undereye. He started massaging it into your skin when some of the serum got into your eye and you recoiled.

“Oh shite sorry y/n” he said, a worried look taking over his face. “Don’t worry about it hun I’m okay,” you said, trying not to tear up from the pain. “What’s next?” You said, genuinely wondering since he did the routine out of order. “This is the only one left. Plant-based squaline,” he said, again reading the label. “This one does a lot of things too; enhanced barrier support, moisturizing, all kinds of stuff,” You said, watching him unscrew the lid and drop the oily liquid onto your skin. “You really need all of this stuff?” He asked, curious. “I don’t need it but it does help,” You said.

He did take care to massage your skin more carefully to avoid your eyes. “Last is this right?” He said, holding up your lotion. “That’s right,” You said, watching him pour some lotion onto his hand and rub it together before spreading it on your skin. You focused on the feeling of Johnny’s fingers massaging the lotion into your skin and listening to his soft humming as he focused on his work. You enjoyed the simply intimate moment between the two of you, not knowing when you’d get the chance again to enjoy it. “Does it really feel that good?” He asked and you opened your eyes to find him smirking. “It did feel really good,” you whispered, planting a kiss on his lips.

“So how’d I do bonnie?” He asked, looking a little too pleased with himself and you couldn’t bring yourself to tell him he did it completely out of order and hurt your eye not once but twice. “You did great Johnny,” you said smiling at him. “Really think so?” He said, helping you down from the counter. “Well….. Maybe it’s best to leave the skincare to me. You did the wrong steps and hurt my eye. Twice,” You said, with a small smile. “Okay no need to be cheeky hen I’ll leave you to your thing,” He laughed. You stood on your toe to give him a kiss. “I wouldn’t mind you watching me though,” You said. Soap slipped his arms around your waist and returned your kiss. “I wouldn’t mind doing that,”

you're still a writer, even if:

you don't write every day

your books aren't published

you haven't finished your first draft

your stories don't get a lot of interaction

you keep creating new stories instead of finishing them

you aren't as good or skilled at writing as other people might be

you struggle to come up with new ideas

you abandon stories when you get bored of them

you don't want your books to be published

you take long breaks between writing sessions

you only write for fun

you doubt your ability as a writer

you don't create original stories and write fanfiction

you don't know all there is to writing techniques and writing rules

Writing is about writing. It's not a competition of who can reach what first. You still hold value as a writer, regardless of what your progress or process looks like. You set your own goals, and it's okay to only do this for fun.

Oh my gosh thank you for reading💕💕

Every Morning

Summary: soap helps you with your skincare

Warnings: none just fluff :)

Word Count-~1k

A/n: this is my first time writing for Soap Mactavish(actually any of the 141) so it may be pretty rough. This story was inspired by the lovely 🫧 anon on @uselsshuman blog! My requests are open for any of the 141 characters so please send in any requests you want! As always beware of typos but I hope you all enjoy!❣️

You were almost religious with your

skincare. You took pride in taking care of your skin and it was something you loved doing in the morning. You loved the routine of layering your skin in different serums and creams and watching them work their magic. Whenever Johnny was home, he loved watching you from the bathroom doorway or sitting on the toilet seat. Because of his job you two didn’t get to share many domestic or intimate moments like this so Soap took what he could get. Soap always pestered you to let him do it for you and you always said no.

“Come on hen I could it!” Was something you always heard when he was home and you smiled but said no.

You were staring at yourself in the mirror getting ready to wash your face when Soap woke up; he had always been a heavy sleeper, something that was a blessing when he was a teenager but something that could get him killed in his line of work. Whenever he was home you did your best not to disturb him because you knew he didn't get much sleep when he was gone. Soap felt for your warm body and when he was met with cold sheets he took a look around to see the bathroom light on. The clock on his bedside table read “10:30”. He stretched and rolled out of bed to find you.

“Mornin’ Bonnie,” he said, walking over to your shared bathroom, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, his thick accent thicker with sleep. “Morning babe,” you smiled, grabbing your face wash and a towel. His eyes lit up whe he saw your face wash and bottles of serums lined up on the counter. You saw him eyeing your bottles and shook your head, a smile already forming on your face. “No Johnny no!” You said, knowing exactly what he was going to ask. “Oh please Bonnie!” He whined, wrapping his arms around your waist, resting his head on your shoulder.

You only wore a tank top so his stubble scratched your bare shoulder. “Johnny you don’t even know how to do it!” You laughed, making eye contact through the mirror. “Yes I do, I watch you all the time,” He replied, kissing and sucking on the sweet spot on your neck trying to get you to fold. “Johnny no st-” you started before he reached down to squeeze your ass. “Okay alright,” You laughed. “You won’t regret this bonnie,” he said, planting a kiss on your cheek with a smile too big for his face. “I think I already am,” You mumbled.

“Okay first thing is washing your face hen everyone knows that,” He said, turning on the hot water. “Of course,” You said, watching him reach in front of you to turn on the hot water. Soap squirted some face wash and his hands and worked it into a lather before rubbing it onto your face. You winced at how rough he rubbed the soap into your skin but didn’t say anything. You also didn’t say anything when he got soap in your eye and tried your best not to wince at the sting. “Okay time to rinse,” he said and you leaned forward rinsing off the soap, the stinging sensation finally going away.

He grabbed a towel and rubbed your face dry before picking up you up by the waist and setting you on the counter. He stepped in between your legs and you had to widen your legs to accommodate him. “Okay first bottle we’re gonna do is this nia…niacin..” He said, struggling to pronounce the name written on the label. “Niacinamide?” You offered, trying not to chuckle. “Yeah that’s it,” He smiled and you wanted to tell him he wasn’t supposed to use it yet but you kept quiet. “What’s this for?” He asked. “It does a lot of things but it mainly helps with pores and textural irregularities,” You told him.

Johnny nodded and used the pipette to drop the serum onto your face and you were surprised that he was gentle in his kneading compared to the face wash. “Does that feel nice hen?” He asked and you smiled. “Of course it does love,” You said. “Okay now for the hylronic acid,” He said, and you couldn’t help but laugh at how he pronounced the name. “This one is to help bring moisture back into my skin,” You told him, knowing he was going to ask.

“I can’t believe you do this every morning bonnie,” he said, emphasizing the “every morning” in disbelief. “So many steps,” said Soap, screwing the tiny lid back onto the bottle. You hadn’t realize how small his hands made the bottles seem. “Every morning,” you emapsized. “I do it at night too,” you smiled and he shook his head. “Caffeine and de puffing,” he looked at the tiny bottle in his hand. “You put it on my undereyes. It helps to de-puff and energize them,” You instructed him. Johnny put some of the thick liquid on your undereye. He started massaging it into your skin when some of the serum got into your room and you recoiled.

“Oh shite sorry y/n” he said, a worried look taking over his face. “Don’t worry about it hun I’m okay,” you said, trying not to tear up from the pain. “What’s next?” You said, genuinely wondering since he did the routine out of order. “This is the only one left. Plant-based squaline,” he said, again reading the label. “This one does a lot of things too; enhanced barrier support, moisturizing, all kinds of stuff,” You said, watching him unscrew the lid and drop the oily liquid onto your skin. “You really need all of this stuff?” He asked, curious. “I don’t need it but it does help,” You said.

He did take care to massage your skin more carefully to avoid your eyes. “Last is this right?” He said, holding up your lotion. “That’s right,” You said, watching him pour some lotion onto his hand and rub it together before spreading it on your skin. You focused on the feeling of Johnny’s fingers massaging the liquid into your skin and listening to his soft humming as he focused on his work. You enjoyed the simply intimate moment between the two of you, not knowing when you’d get the chance again to enjoy it. “Does it really feel that good?” He asked and you opened your eyes to find him smirking. “It did feel really good,” you whispered, planting a kiss on his lips.

“So how’d I do bonnie?” He asked, looking a little too pleased with himself and you couldn’t bring yourself to tell him he did it completely out of order and hurt your eye not once but twice. “You did great Johnny,” you said smiling at him. “Really think so?” He said, helping you down from the counter. “Well….. Maybe it’s best to leave the skincare to me. You did the wrong steps and hurt my eye. Twice,” You said, with a small smile. “Okay no need to be cheeky hen I’ll leave you to your thing,” He laughed. You stood on your toe to give him a kiss. “I wouldn’t mind you watching me though,” You said. Soap slipped his arms around your waist and returned your kiss. “I wouldn’t mind doing that,”

So cute🥺

My request sent before I could finish typing!!! I'm so sorry!

So for Steve Rogers or Bucky Barnes with romance and 👄 thanks so much!!! Again so sorry!!!

Thank you so much for your request 🥰 I haven't written a lot for Steve now that I think about it, so I'm making this a Nomad!Steve fic (because that beard is glorious).

Festive Sleepover Requests

💋 - My place, or yours?

Warnings: Flirting, hints at smut, a little alcohol consumption, Steve being a flustered adorable darling, kissing.

Author Note:

The reader can decide where this fic is set and what they do for work, I've been deliberately vague with the details.

I have to say, writing a romance in 1,000 words or less is tricky, so I hope this came out well!

It took you a while to notice him, sat across the bar, in the corner of the room. Broad, bearded, and very handsome, you were surprised that you hadn’t clocked him before.

Usually when you noticed a man looking at you in a bar, it felt a bit unsavoury. But something about this man felt different. His eyes didn’t linger too long, he wasn’t sizing you up. It was a look of understated admiration, curiosity, not an impersonal, lustful stare.

Your work friends had left half an hour ago, heading home to their partners or wanting an early night. For some reason, and you weren’t sure why, you had stayed a while longer.

For a moment you caught his eye, and he gave you a flustered, shy smile. And that’s when you recognised him, your heart leaping into your throat.

You hadn’t intended to develop a crush on Steve Rogers during your placement at SHIELD. But it was hard not to. The man was a rare sort. Modest yet principled and confident, kind-hearted, caring. To you he had been more than the superhero, he was a man with a heart and a conscience that you admired. And there had been something in return on his part, you had felt it, but how could either of you act on that when you were only posted for three months? That was the nature of your work, going where you were called.

Well, that was over two years ago now, and somehow you thought that you had forgotten all about it and shucked those old feelings.

Clearly not. How could you forget Steve?

As your eyes locked for more than a moment, you finished your drink, stood up and made your way over. He shuffled in his chair, eyes widening in surprise.

“Oh, you weren’t expecting me to come over?” You grinned.

“To tell you the truth, I wasn’t.” He said with a shy smile, his face reddening. “I wasn’t even sure you recognised me.”

“Well, the beard was a bit of a stumbling block.” You smirked.

Standing, Steve hugged you tightly, and you tried not to relax too much in his arms, tried not to inhale and be intoxicated by his smell again. Holding you at arm’s length, he beamed.

“It’s so great to see you.”

“I didn’t think our paths would cross again.”

“Neither did I, but I’m glad they have.”

“What brings you to this backwater?” You asked as you both took a seat.

He exhaled, puffing his cheeks in a kind of mock exasperation. “Let’s just say work troubles.”

“Yes, I heard about the fracas at Leipzig. Are you still on the run?”

Steve nodded. “Although by staying here we can fly under the radar a bit.”

“And you thought coming to a bar would be flying under the radar?” You teased.

“Hiding in plain sight!” He replied, finishing his drink with a self-mocking grin.

“I am glad you’re safe Steve, I tried not to worry about you when I heard what happened to the Avengers.”

“It’s more my team I’m worried about, keeping them safe, the least I can do for their trust and confidence in me. But thank you.” He sighed.

He was scant on the details of his situation, and you supposed he had to be. Instead, he wanted to know about you, how your life had been since you left the SHIELD placement. The whole time, he gazed at you, as though he couldn’t believe that he had encountered you once more.

Most of all, he wanted to know whether you were happy.

“I suppose. It’s a strange world. Alien attacks, Norse gods. I guess you have to find moments of happiness where you can.”

“I think you do.”

“What about you, Steve? Are you happy?” It was a loaded question and you knew it. Perhaps it was even inappropriate, but Steve smiled at you instead, his eyes moist.

“I am right now.”

“What do you mean?” You asked coyly, although really you already knew.

“It just feels kind of magic that I bumped into you tonight. I was kicking myself for years for not asking you out for a drink, or a dance.”

“I could have asked you.” You shrugged. “And I was only there for three months.”

“I suppose. Maybe I still had some old fashioned ideas about dating back then.”

“You sweet thing.” You whispered, somehow finding yourself closer to him, your knees brushing his thigh. Steve looked between your face and where your legs were touching, his lips parted.

“Well, maybe I’m not so old-fashioned in this regard.” He grinned, before leaning in and kissing your neck, his beard tickling you.

Your surprise gave way to joy. Letting go of your earlier restraint, you let yourself melt into him and kiss him back, his strong arms pulling you closer until you were almost sat on his lap.

“This is two years too late, Rogers!” You whispered against his mouth, before biting his bottom lip.

“I know, and I don’t want to let you slip through my fingers again.” He growled, sinking into another kiss, passionate and fierce, before pulling away and cupping your face in his hands. “I mean before… You felt it too, didn’t you?”

“I did. Perhaps it’s fate, or whatever you want to call it… Shall we continue this somewhere more private?”

“Yeah.” His kiss against your forehead was so soft compared to the passionate embrace you had been locked in before. “We can go to mine, but I’m not staying in the most ideal place to have guests!”

“Hiding out with the other fugitives?” You asked, playing with his collar.

“Yeah…”

“Mine then. Although it’s no palace I have to warn you.”

“You should see our safehouse!” Steve giggled.

“Not the Ritz?” You teased.

“They were booked up!” He countered with a smile, before going serious again. “Just as long as I can be with you tonight, forget things for a while, then I don’t mind.”

I saw your ask on another blog and thought I'd share what helps me! I find heading over to spotify and scrolling through my playlists helps. Sometimes I find a song title that's perfect, or one that inspires me.

Hope you're well 💜

Oh my gosh you're literally one of my fav writers I can't even believed you followed me!!

I never thought of that! Thanks for the advice!💚

This was so good! I'm honestly in love with this story🥺❤️❤️

Chapter 4: Back to Blighty

Series Masterlist | Read on AO3

*Please do not plagiarise, copy, or repost anywhere else.

Pairing: 40s!Bucky x Autistic!Reader

*18+ only. Minors DNI. If you follow/reblog, please have your age (or an indicator of your age) in your bio.

Summary: Your time at the front has come to an end, and you return to London with the rest of the SSR team. While reuiniting with old friends, you make some new ones too, and can finally have some quality time with Bucky.

Warnings: Fluff, kissing, making out, suggestive stuff, talk about the war and invasions, found family, some cheesy musical numbers (yes, really). No smut in this chapter but it's coming soon, don't you worry!

Author Notes:

I don't know what I think of this chapter. Depression's been kicking my ass lately so I'm kind of doubting everything right now.

The character Thea is coded as having ADHD. Her traits are based off one of my best friends whom I adore (when we hang out we're a neurodivergent powerhouse).

As I’ve been writing I’ve also fallen in love with Thea as a character. Maybe I should do a spin-off about her. Click to read her bio.

The Windmill Theatre was a famous variety theatre that became best known for its shows involving nude models in still tableaus.

Click for full Author Notes

DISCLAIMER: The reader’s autistic traits are predominantly based on my own, but every autistic person is different and will display different traits in different ways.

Your friend, Thea, was a dancer. Or at least, a former dancer. The toast of the Folies Bergère and the London Criterion in the 1920s, she had since turned her hand to choreography and now directed shows at the Windmill Theatre.

Yes, that Windmill Theatre.

Your peculiarities balanced each other out. She could be forgetful, you remembered everything. She was disorganised, you were the very much the opposite. She was always late, your time management was impeccable. Sometimes it was carnage, but most of the time you were the perfect pair, and she was one of the best people you had ever met.

Right now you were using one of the public phones at the port, trying to liaise with Thea about collecting your key. She had been looking after your flat since you had been away, and you were trying to sort a good time to meet her.

So far, you were struggling.

"Is that tapdancing going on in the background?" You winced.

"Yes love, sorry. I'll get her to stop." You heard Thea move away from the mouthpiece and call out. "Sweetie, would you stop for a moment please? My poor friend can't hear me."

That wasn't strictly true, but it was easier to understand than 'my friend is sensitive to noise and can't focus on my voice while you're dancing and will probably cry if you don't stop.'

The tapping ceased, much to your relief.

"Sorry darling, what was I saying?"

"About my key. Our train gets in at five.”

"Yes! I gave Joey your key."

"Why does Joey have my key?"

"I'm in rehearsals when you arrive in London."

“I could meet you at the theatre?”

“It’s the sitzprobe for the Christmas show sweetie, I’ll be backstage.”

"Fair point! So where am I meeting Joey?"

"He's watching the rehearsals, so you can meet him in the auditorium. I'll let them know you're coming."

Thea's fiancé, Joey, was a lovely man. A former RAF pilot who had lost his right arm in action, he and Thea had met one night after a show at The Windmill and had been inseparable ever since.

It had been wonderful to see her so happy, and with a man who thought the world of her. Now, you couldn’t wait to introduce her to Bucky.

"Can I bring a friend?" You asked tentatively.

"Of course you can, sweetie!" And you could hear she was beaming on the other end of the phone. “Wait, a friend? Is this a pal, or did you find a nice gentleman out in Italy?”

“You’ll have to wait and see!” You giggled, wanting to tell her everything but knowing that you could be easily overheard in your current location. You also knew that you had only paid for a limited amount of time on the phone, and as soon as you started enthusing, you wouldn’t stop.

***

You met Bucky in the corridor of the train when you were returning from the lavatories. You had been separated when disembarking the boat, which had made you quite anxious, so finding him again was a great relief.

Then again, travelling in general had always been incredibly stressful for you, the noise, the queues, all the people. You wished that you could magic yourself to new locations without the stresses and strains.

“Hello, sarge!” You gasped, trying to hide how relieved you were to see him.

"Lieutenant, I need your services." He smirked, pulling you in and enveloping you in his arms. You hugged him back, realising just how exhausted you were in that moment.

“I was wondering where you’d got to.” You said softly. “We were all ordered onto the train after collecting our bags.”

“We had extra checks on our papers.” Bucky told you, rolling his eyes. “Took ages. Anyway, now that I’ve found you, can I have a kiss?”

“Only if you say please.” You teased. Normally you didn’t know how to joke with people, it was hard to know whether the joke would land or not. But with Bucky it felt different, you could read him because he was honest, and he was good at sensing what you needed, or asking if he was unsure.

Bucky straightened his back and raised one eyebrow. “Pretty please. With a ribbon on top.”

You nodded, grinning broadly, before pursing your lips to meet his as he pulled you closer. He kissed you desperately, hungrily, not caring who might see.

“I have a compartment to myself.” You told him. “I was sharing with an old fart who smelled of peppermints, but luckily he had his eyes closed the whole time so I didn’t have to speak to him. But now I’m by myself. Come and join me!”

Your ramble made Bucky giggle, before he rested his nose against yours. “Hmm… I think a bit of canoodling will definitely make the journey go faster.” He said with mock seriousness. “Good idea, lieutenant.”

For the remainder of your journey to St Pancras, you sat on Bucky’s lap in your compartment, curtains drawn, in each other’s arms.

“I need to say something.” Bucky murmured as he snuggled his head into your neck.

“That sounds ominous!” You didn’t like when people said things like this, even if they ended up telling you something nice. I have something to tell you, we need to talk… those words never failed to fill you with anxiety. “I hope it’s not something bad?”

“Oh no, it’s good! I promise!” He looked at your mouth for a moment before he spoke. “When I got captured, I never expected to survive. Then, when Steve rescued me by some miracle, all I wanted was to find some peace. I’m just so tired and battered that I didn’t think I was capable of… I never expected to…” He broke off, thinking about what he was going to say next. “I never expected to meet someone. I didn’t even think I was ready. But I feel safe with you. You don’t expect me to be anything, you don’t ask me to hide anything. I don’t have to pretend when I’m with you. Back in Brooklyn I was expected to put on an act, always be the charmer, always be the one in control, be the protector. But around you I can be vulnerable. Ah jeez, am I making any sense?”

You nodded, trying to stop yourself from crying with joy at his words.

“And I hope you feel as though you can be yourself around me, and be vulnerable if you have to. Because I wouldn’t have you any other way.” He continued, before kissing your nose.

You didn’t say anything in response, you didn’t know how to put your feelings into words at that moment. Instead, you nodded, letting the emotion wash over you and the joyful tears fall. Gently, you covered his face with kisses, before nuzzling your face into his neck, pulling him close.

***

Suitcase in one hand, Bucky’s hand in the other, you led your handsome sergeant down the steps of the Windmill Theatre. As he saw the posters by the door, he gently tugged your hand and whispered in your ear.

“Wait, is this…?”

“Yes.”

“This is…”

“Yes.”

“The Windmill?”

“Yes, the Windmill!”

“Oh wow.”

“But you won’t see anything of that nature today, Bucky. The girls wear robes during rehearsals.”

You were merely stating a fact, but Bucky snorted with laughter.

“Baby, I only have eyes for you!” He laughed. “But I appreciate the heads up.”

“There’s no need to be ashamed of wanting to look at a naked woman Bucky. Well, unless you’re a Peeping Tom, then it’s wrong. But these girls get paid and want to do it here. The real shows are stunning, they look like artworks.” You had gotten used to rambling in front of Bucky, because you knew it was safe to do so. He never told you to stop or shrink yourself. He said he found it endearing and sweet.

He put his arm around you and kissed your ear, before whispering into it, speaking slowly so that you could hear through your earplugs.

“I bet you look like an artwork too.”

You could feel your face go hot. Bucky must have noticed your shy grin, because he giggled and kissed you again.

“Come on, lieutenant, let’s get your key and get you home.”

The auditorium was less crowded than you’d anticipated, but you still wore your earplugs, just to be safe. The orchestra were already in their seats, warming up, but the stage was empty. Your heart leapt in your chest as you thought of Thea backstage, giving a pep talk to the dancers, buzzing with energy.

You couldn’t wait to give her a hug.

In one of the auditorium seats you spotted Joey, dressed in his uniform and medals, empty sleeve pinned neatly. As soon as he spotted you and Bucky approaching, he grinned and waved.

“Joey!” You waved at him.

"Well hello there!" Joey greeted you in a loud whisper, his face beaming. You couldn't help but smile too as he pulled you into a hug. “It’s good to see you.” He said. “Thea’s going to explode with happiness!” He looked at Bucky then. “And is this your friend? Thea told me all about it. Good to meet you, chap!”

Your heart started to pound as Joey extended his hand for Bucky to shake.

“I didn’t… I just mentioned I was bringing someone!” You explained, flustered, but Bucky was smiling.

“Call me Bucky. It’s nice to meet you too.” He said, shaking Joey’s hand, before slipping his arm around your waist.

Joey handed you your key, counting the keys on the loop first to make sure all were accounted for.

“Thea told me to tell you, that she won’t be able to get away to say hello, but that I’m to give you a hug from her, which I already have done, and she will see you at The Fighting Cocks tomorrow. She said to bring friends.”

The Fighting Cocks was your local. You liked it there, the pub landlady was lovely, the barmaids knew you, and it had a nice, quiet atmosphere. But ‘bring friends’ – that was typical Thea. You had read Carl Jung’s theory about Introverts and Extroverts, and she was definitely in the latter category.

You liked making friends, it was just that too many people in one go could be a little overwhelming.

“Will you stay for a song?” Joey asked. “They’re really rather good.”

“We’ll stay for a song, then I think we best get going.” You looked at Bucky, who nodded in agreement. “As for the pub… maybe we could invite Captain Rogers?” You asked him tentatively. Most of your other friends lived outside of London, and the only real pal you had made out in Italy was Fraser, and he was still out at the base. You weren’t sure whether Peggy would join if you asked her. Sometimes it was physically painful asking somebody to spend time with you, only to be told ‘oh I’d love to but I’m just so busy’. That always meant ‘no’.

“I’ll ask the guys from the 107th too. They’d enjoy experiencing an old English pub I think.” Bucky smiled, although from his eyes you could see that the thought was making him feel tired.

As Joey smiled and beckoned you both to get a better view of the stage, you pulled Bucky close and whispered, “If the pub gets too intense tomorrow, just say ‘custard creams’ to me and we’ll leave.”

Bucky giggled, “What are custard creams?”

“They’re vanilla flavoured biscuits, although you can’t often get them these days with rationing. I thought it would make a good code word.”

“Custard creams.” Bucky grinned. “I’ll remember.” He stopped and looked at you as you found some places in the aisle. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“I get tired quite easily these days. It’s good to know I have an out tomorrow if I want to go home.”

“My friend Judith and I used to do something similar at university parties. Around 1 o’clock in the morning people either get very sleepy or very loud, and it stops being fun. So we would say ‘I have to be up for the milkman tomorrow’ and that would be our code to leave.”

“Why the milkman? Doesn’t the milkman just leave the bottles outside the door?”

You shrugged. “People would be too drunk to apply any logic to the statement.”

Bucky giggled again. “Well, ’custard creams’ is much easier to remember.” He said fondly.

Just then, the orchestra started, and the singer strutted on stage. He started a bright, energetic song. As he approached the first chorus, a line of dancers started to appear.

The rhythm of the steps, the piano, the singing… It was all so wonderful, the way it was affecting your body and making you want to move.

God, you had missed music. You had missed it so much.

You started to sway to the music, your hands up and waving in a manner you had seen stage performers do. Joey, laughing, joined you.

Bucky just wrapped his arms around your waist and swayed with you. His body was relaxing against yours, and although you couldn’t see his face, you knew that he was smiling.

***

As Bucky walked you to your door, you threw your arms around his neck and kissed his cheek. The thought of asking him to go to bed with you had been on your mind since your kiss in the woods. In fact, you had been thinking about it constantly.

But just asking him ‘would you like to come in and sleep with me’ just wasn’t the way things were done.

“Do you want to come in for tea?” You asked instead. “Thea said that my neighbour Mrs Penlington dropped round some things yesterday, so there’s not a lot but we can…”

“I have to report to the SSR accommodation unfortunately.” Bucky said with a furrowed brow. He took you in his arms gently. “Tell you what, let’s meet tomorrow, before the pub thing with your friend. We can go for a walk in the park and have lunch? Then I’ll tell the guys to meet us at the pub.”

“Yeah, yeah that sounds good.” You said, trying to hide your disappointment as he kissed you.

After Bucky left, you sat pondering over his words.

Safely in your flat, unpacking your things, refamiliarizing yourself with the old place, you replayed the interaction in your head.

Bucky was honest with you, always had been, so if he genuinely didn’t want to come in, he would have said so, but sometimes people used excuses to soften the blow.

He saw you to your door, that was something. He came with you to the Windmill. He had time to do that, so why didn’t he want to come in?

And you had spent half the train journey from Dover petting and kissing, and he had told you how much he cared about you, confessing his feelings.

Perhaps you were overthinking it all, but when you had mostly encountered dishonesty from people and had gotten used to deciphering their words like a tangled web, it was hard to tell your brain to work differently.

Maybe he was just tired. He’s been through a lot. He’s exhausted. It’s understandable that he’d want some alone time. You want alone time, you always need it after work.

But I’m here. All his. Why didn’t he take the chance?

Maybe he was just tired.

***

“This stuff’s good!” Bucky said, digging into the cottage pie in front of him.

The two of you had met for a walk in Regent’s Park, before finding a spot to have lunch. The restaurant was nice and quiet, just how you liked it, but your mind was still racing.

“See, English food isn’t all bad!” You joked, although you could hear the nerves in your voice. You were still pondering on the evening before, and were struggling to hide how tense you were.

Bucky finished his mouthful, and gestured to you with his fork. “What’s troubling you? Tell me. You kept staring into space when we were walking in the park.”

Here it was. You liked that your relationship with Bucky was based on honesty, but that didn’t make it any easier to put your feelings into words.

“I suppose I was a little sad when you didn’t want to come in yesterday. After the train journey and what you said about me maybe looking like an artwork I thought…” You trailed off, suddenly feeling bad. “I’m sorry. I guess I get a little confused when things aren’t crystal clear.”

Bucky swirled the dregs around his teacup. When he spoke his voice was sad and quiet.

“I was exhausted baby, I’m sorry. I would have just fallen asleep, and I didn’t want you to be disappointed.”

Told you. The poor boy just wanted to rest.

“I wouldn’t have minded you falling asleep.” You told him.

“I know, I just needed some time alone after all that travelling and the excitement of the day. That and… there was something Steve said that was playing on my mind. I guess I needed to process it all. I didn’t really know how to say all of that yesterday.”

You nodded, understanding. You reached out and held his hand, smiling when he lifted it to his mouth and gave it a kiss.

“What did Captain Rogers say?”

Bucky sighed and bit his lip. “I think Steve will want me back at the front with him. Not yet, but soon. He wants to stamp out Hydra, and I can’t let him go alone.”

No. No, that’s so unfair.

“But you said you were tired! You’ve been given time to rest!” You protested.

“We have some time here. It’ll be January when we head out, February if I’m lucky. That gives me a month or two.”

“That’s not enough.” You protested. “You were… After what happened to you…” You didn’t want to put it into words. He had been through enough. He needed peace. He deserved it.

He took both of your hands, squeezing them again.

“But do you understand why I’ll have to go?”

Slowly, you nodded.

“The SSR might post me elsewhere too.” You conceded. “I’ll have to go where they send me. Or, stay put in London until the war is won. I understand duty.”

“But you know that doesn’t change how I feel about you, and the fact that I want this to continue.”

“This?”

“You and me.”

You and me. Me and him.

Not caring who saw, you got up from your seat and moved to the other side of the table. Gently, you sat on Bucky’s lap, wrapping your arms around him and resting your head on his shoulder.

As Bucky cuddled you in response, he whispered in your ear, “That old broad by the window is staring daggers at us.”

“Let her.” You replied, kissing his neck.

He chuckled, pulling you closer. “That’s my girl.” He said.

***

A group of people could be overwhelming, yes, but this group you didn’t mind so much.

Dare you think it, but you felt at home.

The boys of the 107th were a little boisterous, but you had to admit, they were a lot of fun.

You got on with Gabe the best. A fellow linguist, the two of you had started excitedly talking about your studies and what you loved about French and German. Jacques meanwhile was grateful to have another person who spoke his language, and you, him and Gabe had to halt your French banter and make sure that everybody else could understand you.

Morita and Dugan were sweethearts, even if they did have a propensity for sharing inappropriate jokes. You didn’t understand some of them, but Morita was drunk enough to explain them to you. That was very much appreciated, and helped you understand the humour. Falsworth was a little posh and stiff upper lipped, but charming too. He had scolded Dugan and Morita for sharing such obscene jokes with ‘a lady’, but when you had informed him that the girls of the ATS were just as foul-mouthed, he had laughed along and relented.

You had also gotten the chance to speak to Captain Rogers too, or, as he insisted you call him, Steve. You had only spoken to him a few times at the base in Italy, and you found him to be an absolute delight.

When Joey and Thea had arrived, you had become overwhelmed with joy. She had swept you up into a tight hug, and had insisted upon meeting your ‘friend’.

When you had introduced Bucky, she had grinned broadly and winked at you, mouthing ‘I approve’ in a way that Bucky could see. It made him blush, and you hide your face in your hands for a moment, but it was lovely.

Joey had fitted in perfectly with Steve and Bucky, while Thea joined the little French circle with you, Gabe, and Jacques. She had visited Marseille, Jacques’ hometown, for a holiday when she was employed at the Folies Bergère, and watching his face light up as they shared stories was lovely to see.

Usually, groups intimidated you slightly. There was always an expectation to act in a certain way, and the social rules were different. But tonight you felt relaxed. Perhaps it was Bucky’s presence, his kind nature, loving and accepting you.

Or perhaps, in a way, this rag-tag team felt more comfortable and safe than your own family.

***

“So, the lieutenant here tells us that you used to be a showgirl.” Falsworth said to Thea, speech slurring slightly after his fifth pint.

“More of a dancer really darling, but I’m more of a choreographer now, although I can still do a very good high kick!” Thea’s enthusiastic rambling almost matched yours, and you loved it.

“Dancing, huh?” Steve grinned. “I should pay you for some lessons, I’ve been told I have two left feet.”

“Well, I do a touch of singing as well.”

“You’ll have to serenade us!” Dugan added.

“Alright then.” Thea said frankly. “There’s a piano here, and Marge the pub landlady has a wonderful collection of sheet music.”

She got to her feet, smiling, the rest of the group looking at her in amazement.

Thea had once told you that there was no point in feigning modesty. If you had a skill, you should be proud of it. You liked that motto.

“I’ll accompany you.” You offered, standing to go and join her.

Yes, just like old times. You and Thea singing at the piano together!

Piano was something you had picked up as a child. It had been something to focus on, an escape, a way to keep your hands and mind busy while adults argued around you. Your grandmother had taught you the fundamentals before she passed away, and although you were no George Gershwin, you could accompany yourselves and others competently.

“What do you want to sing?” You asked Thea as you set yourself up at the piano with the array of sheet music.

“Something from the music halls! That’s where I got my start after all!”

That didn’t narrow it down very much.

“Hmm…” You flicked through the songbooks, until you found something. “How about this? When I Take My Morning Promenade?”

“Yes!” Thea cried, clapping her hands.

“I’ll turn the pages for you, baby.” You heard Bucky say, and he appeared from behind you, standing by the piano.

Oh you sweet, sweet thing.

“After the last war, the old boys used to love this song. It reminded them of happier times…” Thea rambled as you set yourself up, Bucky primed and ready to turn the pages.

Thea started to sing, somehow giving the provocative song class and charm. Everybody in the pub was looking at her as she sang, and you couldn’t blame them.

Everyone except Bucky, his eyes were only on you.

Well, you and occasionally the song book. Sometimes you had to tap his wrist to prompt him to turn the page.

As Thea finished her song, the whole pub erupted in applause. You and Bucky joined in. Thea’s singing never failed to make you smile, and it felt so amazing to be surrounded by music again.

As Thea gestured to you to extend the applause to her accompanist, you extended your arms and laughed, before shrinking rather shyly.

“Now let’s sing a duet, sweetie.” She said, coming over to the piano and taking a seat beside you. “Your choice.”

You knew the perfect song, no sheet music required, and as you began to play and sing slowly and with feeling, Thea was full of emotion.

“A lady known as Paris, romantic and charming, has left her old companions and faded from view. Lonely men with lonely eyes are seeking her in vain. The streets are where they were, but there’s no sign of her. She has left the Seine…” You sang.

You knew how much Thea missed Paris, her life there, and every piece of news of the occupation there broke her heart. Sometimes it helped to feel something, to sing about it, to mourn it, and that’s what this song was for.

Thea took a deep breath and started to sing the chorus with you, harmonising.

“The last time I saw Paris, her heart was warm and gay, I heard the laughter of her heart in every street café. The last time I saw Paris, her trees were dressed for spring, and lovers walked beneath those trees and birds found songs to sing…”

You didn’t look at Bucky as you played, focusing instead on your duet with Thea, but you could feel his eyes on you, sense the shift in his mood.

He was feeling it too. The sadness, the grief, the nostalgia.

“The last time I saw Paris, her heart was warm and gay, no matter how they change her, I remember her that way!” That line especially, you could hear Thea’s voice break slightly. Adapting your accompaniment, you shifted your left hand from the piano to hold hers for a moment.

As you and Thea finished the song, and you ended with a small flourish on the piano. The applause and sounds of appreciation were more muted, but still enthusiastic.

As you looked between your friends, new and old, and back at your handsome sergeant, there was a warm feeling in your chest.

Groups could sometimes overwhelm you, yes.

But this one here? This one felt like home.

Drunk

Pairing: Soap Mactavish x gf!reader

Summary: Soap goes out for a boy's night with Simon and has a little too much to drink

Word Count: 934

Warnings: none

A/N: took a little longer to get his one out but here ya go :) my requests are open for all characters I write for

Little shorter than I usually write them but I how you enjoy! I tried including more of his Scottish accent so I tried making it accurate! Beware of typos :)

You were snuggled up on the couch watching your favorite reality show with Finn, your and Johnny's border collie, curled up and dozing by your feet. Johnny had gotten back from leave almost a week ago and spent the first few days with you. Tonight though, he went out for a guy's night to the bar with Simon so it was just you and Finn until Johnny inevitably is driven home. Your Scot didn't drink often, but when he did he definitely goes all in.

Suddenly you heard a car door shut and heavy footfalls approach your front door. You got up when a knock sounded and you open it to find Simon standing on your front porch. Johnny was hanging off of Simon's arm and Simon was trying to support him as Johnny rambled on loudly. "He got shit-faced at the bar so I wanted to bring him home," Simon grunted. "I woulda called but I didn't want to bother you," he added. "No that's okay thank you Simon," you said, stepping out and grabbing Johnny.

You wrapped his arm around your shoulders and with a final thank you and goodbye to Simon, you shut the door behind you. "Why, aren't ya a pretty lass!" Johnny exclaimed. "Not as pretty as mine though," he continued, seeming to forget your relationship. "Oh yeah? Is she really that pretty?" You laughed, playing along with him while you steered him toward the bedroom. "Aye! I never saw anyone quite as pretty as her," he affirmed, his words slurring together.

When you got the bedroom you set him on the bed with a flop. You unlaced his shoes and pulled them off his feet and dropped on the floor of the closet. Johnny kept on talking but you couldn't understand much of what he was saying, his words slurring together too much. "It's too fuckin' hot in 'ere!" He complained and you turned around to see him peeling off his shirt. You picked out some clean sweatpants and a t shirt and set them on the bed. "Come on let's get the rest of these clothes off of you," you said, your hands reaching for his belt to help him change his pants. "Fuckin' hell woman what'd I tell ya!" He practically shouted, shoving your hands away and jumping to his feet; although he teetered slightly.

"Johnny!" You said, shocked; he had never raised his voice to you ever, even when he had a little too much too drink. "I already told ya! I'm taken!" He continued. "Johnny what are you talking about?" You asked, slightly bemused. "You oughta be ashamed of yerself trying to fool around with a claimed man," he huffed. Deciding it would be easier to just go along with it you gently pushed him back onto the bed to get him settled. "I've got the prettiest hen waiting for me back home lass," he said, his thick accent getting thicker as he mumbled. "And I'm going to marry her one day," his head fell back against the pillows and in no time at all Johnny was snoring.

Your hand stilled as you were pulling the covers over him and looked at your sleeping boyfriend. You quickly brushed the thought away and covered him with the sheets.

Soap woke up the next morning, groaning and covering his eyes to shield them from the sunlight filtering into the room. The room spun slightly as he sat up and his head throbbed. He couldn't remember much of last night after he and Simon left the bar. He looked over at your side of the bed and you weren't there; smells of eggs and sausages frying told him you were in the kitchen.

He flipped the sheets off of himself and saw on his nightstand were a couple of pain relievers and a small glass of water. You were a saint he thought as he took the pills and gulped down the water to battle the nasty hangover. The bright light hurt his eyes so he squinted as he stood up to change out the jeans he obviously slept in before brushing his teeth. He slowly made his way to the kitchen and saw you cooking breakfast.

"Good morning," you smirked, taking in his disheveled appearance. "How do you feel?" You asked. "Like shite," he mumbled, wrapping his arms around you from behind and nuzzling his face into your neck. "I didnae say anything daft did I?" He mumbled into your neck. "Hmmm....you did tell me you had a pretty girlfriend waiting for you when I tried to help you get changed," you mused. And you told me you were going to marry me. But you kept that to yourself.

"Sorry for being so drunk," he apologized, wondering what all you had to put up with. He started getting dizzy so he sat himself at the kitchen table watching you. "Don't worry about it," you planted a kiss on his cheek. "Maybe this will make you feel better," you smiled, and placed a full Scottish breakfast(minus the mushrooms because he didn't like them) in front of him. "Ya really spoil me Bonnie," he said before digging in. You ate with him and couldn't help but let your mind wander to what he had said the previous night. And I'm going to marry her one day. That's what he had said and you wanted to marry Johnny more than anything but he just said that because he was drunk. Right? What you didn't know was that hidden in Johnny's nightstand was an engagement ring that he bought the first day he met you.

I hope you’re having a great day 💕

Thank you love!! I hope you're having a fantastic day too!!💕💕💕💕