angel cake ♡ tom holland/sebastian stan/chris evans oneshots

Love Her // Bucky Barnes

request from yasmin_xiumin_huncan

i actually really love this concept - it's spicy as fuck dude

also yea i used an actual name in this (rosie) because i just felt like it i suppose

~

   You had always been taught to never sit down and stay quiet when men gave you shit. Your mother always told you - with regret in her tone, you sadly noted - that being a housewife is not fun, or nice; all you do is clean up after men and do as they wish. It really didn't sound too great. But of course, living when you did, your biggest threat was just that - being degraded enough by a man (because you knew they did it through personal experience) that you forgot your worth. If a man could demean you, you might as well put a pretty dress on and start baking a cake because that meant they'd won - and that they owned you. And you were not going to allow that.

   "You really haven't been smart with your job choice, Rosie," your father grumbled. You said nothing, just kept checking your bag, "Wars aren't for women."

   That had become your father's brand new catchphrase whenever you were around. Any chance to remind you that a high rank in an army - or in any job - was something that only men should be allowed to claim was taken whole-heartedly. You tried not to let it get to you.

   "Daddy, the war is affecting all of us. It's only right that I treat it as such." You replied evenly, standing back up from your bag and checking your appearance in the mirror on the mantle. Your uniform had arrived mere days before you were due to leave, and you had barely spent a second wearing regular clothes, only when you had to eat and sleep. In it you felt empowered and proud to be serving your country, and you couldn't wait to show it off. Peggy - your best friend since birth and the reason you had decided you were going to enlist - was picking you up with her father and you were just itching to let her see it. You knew hers was identical, but you were excited to flaunt it all the same.

   "Yes, but ARMIES are most definitely for men. No-one should have to see a woman on the front lines-"

   "I won't be on the front line." You cut quickly. Instantly your father rose from his chair and approached you, pointing his finger in your face and pushing you back into the mantle. For an older man, he was fast. It made you uncomfortable when he was spry, and reminded you just how easily he could overpower you. All the confidence your smart uniform had given you left your body instantly.

   "Don't give yourself airs and graces now that you have this fancy job. You're still just a girl, and you won't last long out there if this is how you're going to treat people." And he drew away, contempt screaming on his face, before marching into the kitchen. You hovered where you were stood, trying not to cry. You counted down from ten, then wiped your eyes where tears had spilled, careful of your eyeliner, then turned to the mirror again, reaching for your mother's red lipstick. She never wore it, and she'd wanted you to take as much from home to Camp Lehigh as you could. You rolled it up then ran it over your lips. You felt the confidence come back (though some confidence in your looks were lost when you realised it made your face look all washed-out).

   Your mother emerged from the kitchen just as your were tucking the lipstick into your pocket, a paper bag in her hands. She looked watery and her walk wasn't too stable. You knew she was going to cry any second now. But she put on a brave face, smiling and putting the bag on top of your own.

   "I've made you some food, Rosie dear. Make sure you share it with Peggy, you know how she likes my brownies, I put more in there than-"

   You threw yourself at her, burying your face in her soft dress and inhaling her motherly scent, already bitterly missing her. Your father? Give it a few months. Maybe.