The Sharpest Lies [Bucky x ReaderxSteve]

Forty

"This is impossible."

Steve looks up from his phone, shifting a little on the minuscule couch he's sitting on. It creaks ominously, but he ignores it. Not his fault that the boutique felt it was unnecessary to have furniture for people with any kind of substantial weight on their bones. You're standing in the middle of the space, in nothing but panties and a bra, with your hands on your hips as you stare at the ceiling.

"Why?"

"What do you mean, why?" You whirl towards him, gesturing wildly. "I've already tried on a million dresses and none of them are right. How am I supposed to pick a dress that will hide the fact that by the time this happens I'm gonna be the size of a fucking blimp!"

Head tilting, Steve lets his eyes sweep over you as your outburst ends and your hands land back on your hips. "Bet you'll be a really sexy blimp."

Your mouth drops open in shock. "What?!"

"Sugar, you need to relax. Isn't this kind of thing supposed to be fun?"

"How am I supposed to have fun? Why am I being crazy and trying to find a white dress in the first place?" You stomp over to one of the other tiny couches and throw yourself down on it dramatically.

"What's wrong with white?"

You roll your eyes and snort before pointing at your belly. "Kinda hard to pretend to be virginal white when there's a tadpole in this fishbowl."

"So, don't wear white?"

"Ugh," you groan and press your hands against your face. "But I want to wear white."

Steve isn't understanding what the problem is, but he treads lightly because the last thing he wants is you blowing up on him. Pregnancy has been making your moods a bit out of sorts lately. So, instead he says slowly, "Okay, my male brain is dense with this kinda thing, gorgeous, so why don't you explain what's wrong?"

With a heavy sigh, you push to sit up and reach for one of the tea cookies on the little table in front of your couch. You gesture with it as you say, "It's just, I want to find the perfect dress but then I keep thinking how just because the dress might be perfect now, it might look like dogshit the day of because it won't hide the belly right."

"You could always go naked." Steve says, grinning and easily dodging the cookie you toss at his face. "I'm kidding. Why do you want to hide your belly?"

"Because–" you trail off, flabbergasted at the question.

"Are you ashamed of growing a whole ass human being?"

"Of course not."

Steve shrugs. "Then why bother trying to figure out which dress is going to hide the fact you're pregnant and just pick the dress you want most?"

"But won't people expect me to hide it?"

"Who people?" Steve asks curiously, and when you just shrug, he goes on. "The only people's opinions should matter in this is you and Bucky. And I can tell you with one hundred percent certainty you could walk down that aisle wearing a damn garbage bag, and Bucky's gonna think you are the most beautiful woman in the universe."

Tears sting your eyes when Steve pauses. Then his head tilts a little, and he gives you a little smile. "Same goes for me, actually."

You blink, two tears spilling over that you hastily wipe away as you stand up and come over to where he's sitting. Planting your hands on his shoulders, you kiss him swiftly before pulling back and kissing his forehead. "Thanks. I don't know how I ever kept myself grounded before you."