i stole this from twitter
Skfksfksfs thank you for the tag @worksby-d
Tags: @historygeekfics
hello friends!!! help me plan for fluff / kinktober, please <3
you get to choose who i pair with each prompt ð€ªð
i'll tag my tag list for now ig but no pressure ofc ð€ðð
@chris-butt @patzammit @denisemarieangelina @thummbelina @pppsssyyyccchhhiiiccc @princess-evans-addict @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @turtoix @katiew1973 @harrysthiccthighss @bluemusickid @rocketrhap3000 @mrspeacem1nusone @geminievans1 @doozywoozy @americasass91 @dwights-new-plague @wwwmarissa92 @redhairedfeistynerd @whxre4cevans @aubreeskailynn @white-wolf1940 @melchills-j @xoxabs88xox @just-one-ordinary-fangirl @before-we-get-started @chrissquares @christowhore @ice-dtae @mariestark @justile @rogersdrysdalebarber @dilfbarber @livstilinski @payperhearts @vintagestarlight @gitasor @chaeycunty @miss-ariella @bemysugarbean @t-stark35 @seitmai @reginaphalange2403
Ëâ· ÍÍÍÍâ³â¥ ððªð³ðŽðµ ð°ð§ð§ ð®ðº ð£ðð°ðš ðªðŽ ð¢ ðŽð¢ð§ðŠ ðŽð±ð¢ð€ðŠ ð¢ð¯ð¥ ð ð¥ð°ð¯'ðµ ðµð°ððŠð³ð¢ðµðŠ ð¢ð¯ðº ð©ð¢ðµðŠ ðªð¯ð€ðð¶ð¥ðªð¯ðš ð³ð¢ð€ðªðŽð®, ðŽðŠð¹ðªðŽð®, ð©ð°ð®ð°ð±ð©ð°ð£ðªð¢, ðŠðµð€.
Ëâ· ÍÍÍÍâ³â¥ððº ð£ðð°ðš ðªðŽ 18+ ð°ð¯ððº ð¢ðŽ ð ð¥ð° ðžð³ðªðµðŠ ð¢ð¥ð¶ððµ ð€ð°ð¯ðµðŠð¯ðµ. ðð§ ðºð°ð¶ ð¢ð³ðŠ ð¯ð°ðµ 18+ ðð ððð ðððððððððžðªðµð© ð®ðº ð£ðð°ðš. ððð ð£ðð°ðšðŽ ðžðªðµð©ð°ð¶ðµ ðµð©ðŠðªð³ ð¢ðšðŠ ðªð¯ ðµð©ðŠðªð³ ð£ðªð°(ð°ð³ ðŽð°ð®ðŠðµð©ðªð¯ðš ðªð¯ð¥ðªð€ð¢ðµðªð¯ðš ðºð°ð¶ð³ ð¢ðšðŠ ðŽð¶ð€ð© ð¢ðŽ 18+ ð°ð³ 20ðŽ, 30ðŽ, ðŠðµð€.) ðžðªðð ð£ðŠ ð£ðð°ð€ð¬ðŠð¥ ð¯ð° ðŠð¹ð€ðŠð±ðµðªð°ð¯ðŽ(ðµð©ðªðŽ ðªðŽ ðµð° ð±ð³ð°ðµðŠð€ðµ ð®ðºðŽðŠðð§). ð ð°ð¶ ð€ð¢ð¯ ð¢ððŽð° ðŽðŠð¯ð¥ ð®ðŠ ð¢ ð¥ð® ðžðªðµð© ðºð°ð¶ð³ ð¢ðšðŠ ðªð§ ðºð°ð¶'ð³ðŠ ð®ð°ð³ðŠ ð€ð°ð®ð§ð°ð³ðµð¢ð£ððŠ ðžðªðµð© ðµð©ð¢ðµ. ððº ð£ðð°ð€ð¬ ð§ðªð¯ðšðŠð³ ðªðŽ ðŽðµð³ð°ð¯ðš ð¢ð¯ð¥ ðªð§ ð ðŽð¶ðŽð±ðŠð€ðµ ðºð°ð¶ ð¢ð³ðŠ ð®ðªð¯ð°ð³ ð ðžðªðð ð£ðð°ð€ð¬ ðºð°ð¶. ðð©ðªðŽ ð¢ððŽð° ðšð°ðŠðŽ ð§ð°ð³ ð£ðð¢ð¯ð¬ ð¢ð¯ð¥ ð¶ð¯ðµðªðµððŠð¥ ð£ðð°ðšðŽ. ððº ð€ððªð€ð¬ðªð¯ðš ð¬ðŠðŠð± ð³ðŠð¢ð¥ðªð¯ðš ðºð°ð¶ ð©ð¢ð·ðŠ ð¢ðšð³ðŠðŠð¥ ðµð©ð¢ðµ ðºð°ð¶ ð¢ð³ðŠ 18+ ð¢ð¯ð¥ ðª ð¢ð® ð¯ð° ðð°ð¯ðšðŠð³ ð³ðŠðŽð±ð°ð¯ðŽðªð£ððŠ ð§ð°ð³ ðžð©ð¢ðµ ðºð°ð¶ ð³ðŠð¢ð¥. ðð©ðŠ ð®ðŠð¥ðªð¢ ðºð°ð¶ ð€ð°ð¯ðŽð¶ð®ðŠ ðªðŽ ð¯ð°ðµ ð®ðº ð³ðŠðŽð±ð°ð¯ðŽðªð£ðªððªðµðº ð¢ð§ðµðŠð³ ð ð©ð¢ð·ðŠ ðžð¢ð³ð¯ðŠð¥ ðºð°ð¶.
Ëâ· ÍÍÍÍâ³â¥ð ð¥ð°ð¯'ðµ ðµð°ððŠð³ð¢ðµðŠ ð¬ðªð¯ð¬ ðŽð©ð¢ð®ðªð¯ðš ð°ð¯ ð®ðº ð£ðð°ðš(ððªð¬ðŠ ð ðŽð¢ðªð¥ ðµð©ðªðŽ ðªðŽ ð¢ ðŽð¢ð§ðŠ ðŽð±ð¢ð€ðŠ) ð£ð¶ðµ ðµð©ðŠð³ðŠ ð¢ð³ðŠ ð¬ðªð¯ð¬ðŽ ð ð¥ð°ð¯'ðµ ðžð³ðªðµðŠ ð§ð°ð³ ð¥ð¶ðŠ ðµð° ð±ðŠð³ðŽð°ð¯ð¢ð ð±ð³ðŠð§ðŠð³ðŠð¯ð€ðŠ ð¢ð¯ð¥ ðµð©ð°ðŽðŠ ð¢ð³ðŠ ð¢ðšðŠ ð³ðŠðšð³ðŠðŽðŽðªð°ð¯, ðžð¢ðµðŠð³ ðŽð±ð°ð³ðµðŽ, ð¢ð¯ð¥ ð¯ð°ð¯ ð€ð°ð¯. ð ð¢ððŽð° ð¥ð°ð¯'ðµ ðžð³ðªðµðŠ ð©ð¢ð³ð¥ ð¢ð¯ðšðŽðµ(ð«ð¶ðŽðµ ð¢ ððªðµðµððŠ ðªð¯ ð®ðº ð§ðªð€ðŽ) ð°ð¯ððº ð£ðŠð€ð¢ð¶ðŽðŠ ðªðµ ð®ð¢ð¬ðŠðŽ ð®ðŠ ð¬ðªð¯ð¥ð¢ð£
Ëâ· ÍÍÍÍâ³â¥ð ðžð³ðªðµðŠ ð§ð°ð³ ð§ðŠð®!ð³ðŠð¢ð¥ðŠð³ ð°ð¯ððº(ðµð©ðªðŽ ðªðŽ ðŽðªð®ð±ððº ð£ðŠð€ð¢ð¶ðŽðŠ ð ðªð¥ðŠð¯ðµðªð§ðº ð¢ðŽ ð§ðŠð®ð¢ððŠ) ð©ð°ðžðŠð·ðŠð³ ð ð¥ð° ðµð³ðº ðµð° ð£ðŠ ð¢ðŽ ðªð¯ð€ðð¶ðŽðªð·ðŠ ð¢ðŽ ð±ð°ðŽðŽðªð£ððŠ ðŽð° ð ðµð³ðº ðµð° ð¬ðŠðŠð± ð¢ð¯ðº ðªð¯ð¥ðªð€ð¢ðµð°ð³ðŽ ð°ð§ ðŽð¬ðªð¯ ð€ð°ðð°ð³ ð°ð¶ðµ ð°ð§ ð®ðº ðžð³ðªðµðªð¯ðš. ð ð¢ððŽð° ð¥ð°ð¯'ðµ ðžð³ðªðµðŠ ð§ð°ð³ ð¥ð°ð®!ð³ðŠð¢ð¥ðŠð³(ð¢ðšð¢ðªð¯ ðµð©ðªðŽ ðªðŽ ð±ðŠð³ðŽð°ð¯ð¢ð ð±ð³ðŠð§ðŠð³ðŠð¯ð€ðŠ ð¯ð°ðµ ð£ðŠð€ð¢ð¶ðŽðŠ ðµð©ðŠð³ðŠ ðªðŽ ð¢ð¯ðºðµð©ðªð¯ðš ðžð³ð°ð¯ðš ðžðªðµð© ðªðµ)
Ëâ· ÍÍÍÍâ³â¥ðððŠð¢ðŽðŠ ð£ðŠ ð±ð¢ðµðªðŠð¯ðµ ðžðªðµð© ð®ðŠ! ð ð¢ð® ð¢ ð€ð°ðððŠðšðŠ ðŽðµð¶ð¥ðŠð¯ðµ ðŽð° ðŽð€ð©ð°ð°ð ðžð°ð³ð¬ ðªðŽ ð®ðº ð±ð³ðªð°ð³ðªðµðº ð¢ð¯ð¥ ðµð¢ð¬ðŠðŽ ð¶ð± ð¢ ðð°ðµ ð°ð§ ð®ðº ðµðªð®ðŠ. ðð¥ð¥ðªðµðªð°ð¯ð¢ðððº ð ð¥ð°ð¯'ðµ ð¢ððžð¢ðºðŽ ð©ð¢ð·ðŠ ðµð©ðŠ ð®ð°ðµðªð·ð¢ðµðªð°ð¯ ðµð° ðžð³ðªðµðŠ ð¢ð¯ð¥ ðŽð°ð®ðŠðµðªð®ðŠðŽ ðªðµ ðµð¢ð¬ðŠðŽ ð®ðŠ ð¢ ðžð©ðªððŠ ð£ð¶ðµ ð ðžðªðð ð¥ð° ð®ðº ð£ðŠðŽðµ ðµð° ð³ðŠðŽð±ð°ð¯ð¥ ðµð° ðŠð·ðŠð³ðºð°ð¯ðŠ ð¢ð¯ð¥ ðšðŠðµ ð®ðº ð§ðªð€ðŽ ð°ð¶ðµ. ð'ð® ð¢ððŽð° ð±ð³ðŠðµðµðº ð¯ðŠðž ðµð° ðžð³ðªðµðªð¯ðš ð°ð¯ ðµð¶ð®ð£ðð³ ðŽð° ð±ððŠð¢ðŽðŠ ð¬ðŠðŠð± ðµð©ð¢ðµ ðªð¯ ð®ðªð¯ð¥ :)
Ëâ· ÍÍÍÍâ³â¥ðð©ðŠ ð°ð¯ððº ðð©ðŠ ð°ð¯ððº ð§ð¢ð¯ð¥ð°ð®ðŽ ð ðžð³ðªðµðŠ ð§ð°ð³ ð¢ð³ðŠ ðð¢ðð ð°ð§ ðð¶ðµðº ð¢ð¯ð¥ ðð°ð¶ð³ðµð© ððªð¯ðš. ð ð°ð¶ ð€ð¢ð¯ ð§ðªð¯ð¥ ðµð©ðŠ ð€ð©ð¢ð³ð¢ð€ðµðŠð³ðŽ ð ðžð³ðªðµðŠ ð§ð°ð³ ðªð¯ ð®ðº ðð¢ðŽðµðŠð³ððªðŽðµ.
Ëâ· ÍÍÍÍâ³â¥ðððŠð¢ðŽðŠ ðŽðŠð¯ð¥ ðªð¯ ð¢ð¯ðº ð¢ðŽð¬ðŽ ðºð°ð¶ ðžð¢ð¯ðµ! ððªð¬ðŠ ð ðŽð¢ðªð¥ ð ð¥ð°ð¯'ðµ ð¢ððžð¢ðºðŽ ð©ð¢ð·ðŠ ð¢ðð°ðµ ð°ð§ ðµðªð®ðŠ ð£ð¶ðµ ð ðžðªðð ð¥ð° ð®ðº ð£ðŠðŽðµ ðµð° ð³ðŠðŽð±ð°ð¯ð¥ ðµð° ðŠð·ðŠð³ðºð°ð¯ðŠ ð¢ð¯ð¥ ð©ðŠðð± ðŠð·ðŠð³ðºð°ð¯ðŠ ð§ðŠðŠð ðªð¯ð€ðð¶ð¥ðŠð¥!
Ëâ· ÍÍÍÍâ³â¥ðð§ ðºð°ð¶ ðŽðŠð¯ð¥ ðªð¯ ð¢ð¯ðº ðððð ð·ðªð¥ðŠð°ðŽ/ððªð¯ð¬ðŽ ð«ð¶ðŽðµ ð±ð¶ðµ ðŽð°ð®ðŠðµð©ðªð¯ðš ðªð¯ ðµð©ðŠð³ðŠ ðµð° ððŠðµ ð®ðŠ ð¬ð¯ð°ðž ðµð©ð¢ðµ'ðŽ ðžð©ð¢ðµ ðªðµ ðªðŽ :)
Ëâ· ÍÍÍÍâ³â¥ð ðð°ð·ðŠ ðµð° ðžð³ðªðµðŠ ð¢ð¯ð¥ ð ðð°ð·ðŠ ð€ð°ð¯ðŽðµð³ð¶ð€ðµðªð·ðŠ ð€ð³ðªðµðªð€ðªðŽð® ð¢ð¯ð¥ ð¢ð¯ðºðµð©ðªð¯ðš ðµð©ð¢ðµ ð€ð¢ð¯ ð©ðŠðð± ð®ðŠ ð£ðŠ ð£ðŠðµðµðŠð³ ðŽð° ð¥ð°ð¯'ðµ ð©ðŠðŽðªðµð¢ðµðŠ ðµð° ððŠð¢ð·ðŠ ð§ðŠðŠð¥ð£ð¢ð€ð¬! ð ð©ð°ð±ðŠ ðŠð·ðŠð³ðºð°ð¯ðŠ ð©ð¢ðŽ ð¢ ðšð°ð°ð¥ ðµðªð®ðŠ ð°ð¯ ð®ðº ð£ðð°ðš!
Updated: 4-22-25
ð=Fluff
ð=smut
â€ïžâð©¹=angst
This was 100% self indulgent and based off my own skincare routine. Thank you for reading Emðð
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 ð«§ 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!â£ïž
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 didnât 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.
âCome on hen I could it!â 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 â10:30â. He stretched and rolled out of bed to find you.
âMorninâ Bonnie,â he said, walking over to your shared bathroom, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, his thick accent thicker with sleep. âMorning babe,â 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. âNo Johnny no!â You said, knowing exactly what he was going to ask. âOh please Bonnie!â 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. âJohnny you donât even know how to do it!â You laughed, making eye contact through the mirror. âYes I do, I watch you all the time,â He replied, kissing and sucking on the sweet spot on your neck trying to get you to fold. âJohnny no st-â you started before he reached down to squeeze your ass. âOkay alright,â You laughed. âYou wonât regret this bonnie,â he said, planting a kiss on your cheek with a smile too big for his face. âI think I already am,â You mumbled.
âOkay first thing is washing your face hen everyone knows that,â He said, turning on the hot water. âOf course,â 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 didnât say anything. You also didnât say anything when he got soap in your eye and tried your best not to wince at the sting. âOkay time to rinse,â 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. âOkay first bottle weâre gonna do is this niaâŠniacin..â He said, struggling to pronounce the name written on the label. âNiacinamide?â You offered, trying not to chuckle. âYeah thatâs it,â He smiled and you wanted to tell him he wasnât supposed to use it yet but you kept quiet. âWhatâs this for?â He asked. âIt does a lot of things but it mainly helps with pores and textural irregularities,â 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. âDoes that feel nice hen?â He asked and you smiled. âOf course it does love,â You said. âOkay now for the hylronic acid,â He said, and you couldnât help but laugh at how he pronounced the name. âThis one is to help bring moisture back into my skin,â You told him, knowing he was going to ask.
âI canât believe you do this every morning bonnie,â he said, emphasizing the âevery morningâ in disbelief. âSo many steps,â said Soap, screwing the tiny lid back onto the bottle. You hadnât realize how small his hands made the bottles seem. âEvery morning,â you emapsized. âI do it at night too,â you smiled and he shook his head. âCaffeine and de puffing,â he looked at the tiny bottle in his hand. âYou put it on my undereyes. It helps to de-puff and energize them,â 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.
âOh shite sorry y/nâ he said, a worried look taking over his face. âDonât worry about it hun Iâm okay,â you said, trying not to tear up from the pain. âWhatâs next?â You said, genuinely wondering since he did the routine out of order. âThis is the only one left. Plant-based squaline,â he said, again reading the label. âThis one does a lot of things too; enhanced barrier support, moisturizing, all kinds of stuff,â You said, watching him unscrew the lid and drop the oily liquid onto your skin. âYou really need all of this stuff?â He asked, curious. âI donât need it but it does help,â You said.
He did take care to massage your skin more carefully to avoid your eyes. âLast is this right?â He said, holding up your lotion. âThatâs right,â 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 Johnnyâs 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 youâd get the chance again to enjoy it. âDoes it really feel that good?â He asked and you opened your eyes to find him smirking. âIt did feel really good,â you whispered, planting a kiss on his lips.
âSo howâd I do bonnie?â He asked, looking a little too pleased with himself and you couldnât bring yourself to tell him he did it completely out of order and hurt your eye not once but twice. âYou did great Johnny,â you said smiling at him. âReally think so?â He said, helping you down from the counter. âWellâŠ.. Maybe itâs best to leave the skincare to me. You did the wrong steps and hurt my eye. Twice,â You said, with a small smile. âOkay no need to be cheeky hen Iâll leave you to your thing,â He laughed. You stood on your toe to give him a kiss. âI wouldnât mind you watching me though,â You said. Soap slipped his arms around your waist and returned your kiss. âI wouldnât mind doing that,â
do y'all also have mutuals whom youâre actually a fan of? like everytime u see them on your dash u just,,,,, âu go mutual thatâs my mutual!!!!! i love u mutual!!!! i canât even believe weâre mutuals i donât deserve u!!!! keep being u mutual!!!â
So I just finished reading the ACTOAR series(super late I know) but I'm absolutely in love with this series ð
I know I just started writing for Fourth Wing but maybe writing some ACTOAR fics can help with the ACTOAR hangover??? Let me know if that's something y'all want to see :)
Hey loves! Welcome to my blog where everyone can feel free to be themselves(this is a no judgement zone!) here you will find everything you need to know about my blog!!â¡
.â«*ïŸïœ¥ïŸïœ¡.â .*ïŸâ«*..â«*ïŸïœ¥ïŸïœ¡.â .*ïŸâ«*..â«*ïŸïœ¥ïŸïœ¡.
:*Ë:â§ïœ¡ð©ððð ð¹ðððð:*Ë:â§ïœ¡
à³ââ·here you will find out all my rules/boundaries for my blog!
:*Ë:â§ïœ¡ðððšð©ðð§ð¡ððšð©ïœ¡ïœ¥:*Ë:â§ïœ¡
à³ââ·here you will find a collection of my works all in one place!
:*Ë:â§ïœ¡ðð€ð§ð ðš ðð£ ðð§ð€ðð§ððšðšïœ¡ïœ¥:*Ë:â§ïœ¡
à³ââ·here you can find everything I'm currently working on/planning to work on in the future
:*Ë:â§ïœ¡ððð/ðœð¡ð€ð ððððšïœ¡ïœ¥:*Ë:â§ïœ¡
à³ââ·here you will find any blogs or fics I recommend. I have a lot so I'll only add to this if someone sends in an ask requesting fics!
This was so good! I'm honestly in love with this storyð¥ºâ€ïžâ€ïž
*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 Iâve been writing Iâve 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.
DISCLAIMER: The readerâs 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 BergÚre 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.â
"Yes! I gave Joey your key."
"Why does Joey have my key?"
"I'm in rehearsals when you arrive in London."
âI could meet you at the theatre?â
âItâs the sitzprobe for the Christmas show sweetie, Iâll be backstage.â
"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 couldnât 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. âWait, a friend? Is this a pal, or did you find a nice gentleman out in Italy?â
âYouâll have to wait and see!â 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 wouldnât 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.
âHello, sarge!â 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.
âI was wondering where youâd got to.â You said softly. âWe were all ordered onto the train after collecting our bags.â
âWe had extra checks on our papers.â Bucky told you, rolling his eyes. âTook ages. Anyway, now that Iâve found you, can I have a kiss?â
âOnly if you say please.â You teased. Normally you didnât 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. âPretty please. With a ribbon on top.â
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.
âI have a compartment to myself.â You told him. âI was sharing with an old fart who smelled of peppermints, but luckily he had his eyes closed the whole time so I didnât have to speak to him. But now Iâm by myself. Come and join me!â
Your ramble made Bucky giggle, before he rested his nose against yours. âHmm⊠I think a bit of canoodling will definitely make the journey go faster.â He said with mock seriousness. âGood idea, lieutenant.â
For the remainder of your journey to St Pancras, you sat on Buckyâs lap in your compartment, curtains drawn, in each otherâs arms.
âI need to say something.â Bucky murmured as he snuggled his head into your neck.
âThat sounds ominous!â You didnât 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. âI hope itâs not something bad?â
âOh no, itâs good! I promise!â He looked at your mouth for a moment before he spoke. âWhen I got captured, I never expected to survive. Then, when Steve rescued me by some miracle, all I wanted was to find some peace. Iâm just so tired and battered that I didnât think I was capable of⊠I never expected toâŠâ He broke off, thinking about what he was going to say next. âI never expected to meet someone. I didnât even think I was ready. But I feel safe with you. You donât expect me to be anything, you donât ask me to hide anything. I donât have to pretend when Iâm 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?â
You nodded, trying to stop yourself from crying with joy at his words.
âAnd I hope you feel as though you can be yourself around me, and be vulnerable if you have to. Because I wouldnât have you any other way.â He continued, before kissing your nose.
You didnât say anything in response, you didnât 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, Buckyâs 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.
âWait, is thisâŠ?â
âYes.â
âThis isâŠâ
âYes.â
âThe Windmill?â
âYes, the Windmill!â
âOh wow.â
âBut you wonât see anything of that nature today, Bucky. The girls wear robes during rehearsals.â
You were merely stating a fact, but Bucky snorted with laughter.
âBaby, I only have eyes for you!â He laughed. âBut I appreciate the heads up.â
âThereâs no need to be ashamed of wanting to look at a naked woman Bucky. Well, unless youâre a Peeping Tom, then itâs wrong. But these girls get paid and want to do it here. The real shows are stunning, they look like artworks.â 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.
âI bet you look like an artwork too.â
You could feel your face go hot. Bucky must have noticed your shy grin, because he giggled and kissed you again.
âCome on, lieutenant, letâs get your key and get you home.â
The auditorium was less crowded than youâd 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 couldnât 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.
âJoey!â 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. âItâs good to see you.â He said. âTheaâs going to explode with happiness!â He looked at Bucky then. âAnd is this your friend? Thea told me all about it. Good to meet you, chap!â
Your heart started to pound as Joey extended his hand for Bucky to shake.
âI didnât⊠I just mentioned I was bringing someone!â You explained, flustered, but Bucky was smiling.
âCall me Bucky. Itâs nice to meet you too.â He said, shaking Joeyâs 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.
âThea told me to tell you, that she wonât be able to get away to say hello, but that Iâm 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.â
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 âbring friendsâ â that was typical Thea. You had read Carl Jungâs 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.
âWill you stay for a song?â Joey asked. âTheyâre really rather good.â
âWeâll stay for a song, then I think we best get going.â You looked at Bucky, who nodded in agreement. âAs for the pub⊠maybe we could invite Captain Rogers?â 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 werenât 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 âoh Iâd love to but Iâm just so busyâ. That always meant ânoâ.
âIâll ask the guys from the 107th too. Theyâd enjoy experiencing an old English pub I think.â 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, âIf the pub gets too intense tomorrow, just say âcustard creamsâ to me and weâll leave.â
Bucky giggled, âWhat are custard creams?â
âTheyâre vanilla flavoured biscuits, although you canât often get them these days with rationing. I thought it would make a good code word.â
âCustard creams.â Bucky grinned. âIâll remember.â He stopped and looked at you as you found some places in the aisle. âThank you.â
âFor what?â
âI get tired quite easily these days. Itâs good to know I have an out tomorrow if I want to go home.â
âMy friend Judith and I used to do something similar at university parties. Around 1 oâclock in the morning people either get very sleepy or very loud, and it stops being fun. So we would say âI have to be up for the milkman tomorrowâ and that would be our code to leave.â
âWhy the milkman? Doesnât the milkman just leave the bottles outside the door?â
You shrugged. âPeople would be too drunk to apply any logic to the statement.â
Bucky giggled again. âWell, âcustard creamsâ is much easier to remember.â 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 couldnât 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 âwould you like to come in and sleep with meâ just wasnât the way things were done.
âDo you want to come in for tea?â You asked instead. âThea said that my neighbour Mrs Penlington dropped round some things yesterday, so thereâs not a lot but we canâŠâ
âI have to report to the SSR accommodation unfortunately.â Bucky said with a furrowed brow. He took you in his arms gently. âTell you what, letâs meet tomorrow, before the pub thing with your friend. We can go for a walk in the park and have lunch? Then Iâll tell the guys to meet us at the pub.â
âYeah, yeah that sounds good.â 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 didnât 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 didnât 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. Heâs been through a lot. Heâs exhausted. Itâs understandable that heâd want some alone time. You want alone time, you always need it after work.
But Iâm here. All his. Why didnât he take the chance?
Maybe he was just tired.
***
âThis stuffâs good!â Bucky said, digging into the cottage pie in front of him.
The two of you had met for a walk in Regentâs 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.
âSee, English food isnât all bad!â 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. âWhatâs troubling you? Tell me. You kept staring into space when we were walking in the park.â
Here it was. You liked that your relationship with Bucky was based on honesty, but that didnât make it any easier to put your feelings into words.
âI suppose I was a little sad when you didnât want to come in yesterday. After the train journey and what you said about me maybe looking like an artwork I thoughtâŠâ You trailed off, suddenly feeling bad. âIâm sorry. I guess I get a little confused when things arenât crystal clear.â
Bucky swirled the dregs around his teacup. When he spoke his voice was sad and quiet.
âI was exhausted baby, Iâm sorry. I would have just fallen asleep, and I didnât want you to be disappointed.â
Told you. The poor boy just wanted to rest.
âI wouldnât have minded you falling asleep.â You told him.
âI 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 didnât really know how to say all of that yesterday.â
You nodded, understanding. You reached out and held his hand, smiling when he lifted it to his mouth and gave it a kiss.
âWhat did Captain Rogers say?â
Bucky sighed and bit his lip. âI think Steve will want me back at the front with him. Not yet, but soon. He wants to stamp out Hydra, and I canât let him go alone.â
No. No, thatâs so unfair.
âBut you said you were tired! Youâve been given time to rest!â You protested.
âWe have some time here. Itâll be January when we head out, February if Iâm lucky. That gives me a month or two.â
âThatâs not enough.â You protested. âYou were⊠After what happened to youâŠâ You didnât 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.
âBut do you understand why Iâll have to go?â
Slowly, you nodded.
âThe SSR might post me elsewhere too.â You conceded. âIâll have to go where they send me. Or, stay put in London until the war is won. I understand duty.â
âBut you know that doesnât change how I feel about you, and the fact that I want this to continue.â
âThis?â
âYou and me.â
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 Buckyâs lap, wrapping your arms around him and resting your head on his shoulder.
As Bucky cuddled you in response, he whispered in your ear, âThat old broad by the window is staring daggers at us.â
âLet her.â You replied, kissing his neck.
He chuckled, pulling you closer. âThatâs my girl.â He said.
***
A group of people could be overwhelming, yes, but this group you didnât 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 didnât 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 âa ladyâ, 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 âfriendâ.
When you had introduced Bucky, she had grinned broadly and winked at you, mouthing âI approveâ 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, Jacquesâ hometown, for a holiday when she was employed at the Folies BergÚre, 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 Buckyâs 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.
***
âSo, the lieutenant here tells us that you used to be a showgirl.â Falsworth said to Thea, speech slurring slightly after his fifth pint.
âMore of a dancer really darling, but Iâm more of a choreographer now, although I can still do a very good high kick!â Theaâs enthusiastic rambling almost matched yours, and you loved it.
âDancing, huh?â Steve grinned. âI should pay you for some lessons, Iâve been told I have two left feet.â
âWell, I do a touch of singing as well.â
âYouâll have to serenade us!â Dugan added.
âAlright then.â Thea said frankly. âThereâs a piano here, and Marge the pub landlady has a wonderful collection of sheet music.â
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.
âIâll accompany you.â 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.
âWhat do you want to sing?â You asked Thea as you set yourself up at the piano with the array of sheet music.
âSomething from the music halls! Thatâs where I got my start after all!â
That didnât narrow it down very much.
âHmmâŠâ You flicked through the songbooks, until you found something. âHow about this? When I Take My Morning Promenade?â
âYes!â Thea cried, clapping her hands.
âIâll turn the pages for you, baby.â You heard Bucky say, and he appeared from behind you, standing by the piano.
Oh you sweet, sweet thing.
âAfter the last war, the old boys used to love this song. It reminded them of happier timesâŠâ 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 couldnât 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. Theaâs 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.
âNow letâs sing a duet, sweetie.â She said, coming over to the piano and taking a seat beside you. âYour choice.â
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.
âA 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 thereâs no sign of her. She has left the SeineâŠâ 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 thatâs what this song was for.
Thea took a deep breath and started to sing the chorus with you, harmonising.
âThe 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 singâŠâ
You didnât 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.
âThe last time I saw Paris, her heart was warm and gay, no matter how they change her, I remember her that way!â That line especially, you could hear Theaâs 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.
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.
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