Sebastian Stan Imagines #wattys2017

°o. Story of Tonight ~ 1940's Bucky Barnes .o°

1940's James Buchanan 'Bucky' Barnes ~ Marvel Cinematic Universe

Prompt:
The platoon is out the night before a big Nazi base raid and Bucky is rethinking his choices.

Inspired by: Story of Tonight from Hamilton

AN: It's inspired by the song, it's not really matched to the lyrics but it got my brain writing for once, so credits for that rarity.

*•*•*•

Bucky lets out a sigh, taking a long glance around the small pub. Men scattered about, ranging from locals to soldiers. Women dressed in flowy dresses, red lipstick making the outfit pop. The swing music giving a light-hearted vibe to the atmosphere as some mingle or dance. Every so often, the group of soldiers in the corner of the bar let out a boisterous boom of laughter.

He shakes his head, thinking to himself that he should be in the crowd of soldiers, laughing and drinking away his problems. But he can't help drowning in them instead. The thoughts of when he first got drafted flooding his mind.

What if my gun jams? What if I accidentally drop my gun and it goes off? What if I drop my gun and it goes off and shoots someone on accident? What if someone accidentally shoots me? What if I die? What if our platoon gets captured? What if (Y/N) gets captured? 

Oh my god, what if (Y/N) gets captured or killed? I could never live with myself if she--

His thoughts get interrupted by someone sliding into the booth across from him.

"What's on your mind, Sarge?" The person asks, setting their glass on the table after taking a big swig of whatever alcohol is in it. Bucky shakes his head, immediately knowing who it is.

"Nothin'." He chuckles, raising his eyes to theirs. His breath catches in his throat as he takes in your appearance; your (Y/L/H) down in curls, little makeup with a bold dark red lip, and your outfit... a dark blue two-piece short sleeve swing dress with white polka dots scattered about on it. It's a bit daring with the semi-low neckline and the middle of your stomach showing but you gotta live a little.

"Wow..." Bucky clears his throat, snapping his eyes back to yours. "You look... nice."

"Thanks." You furrow your eyebrows, your voice going higher in a questioning tone.

"I mean... you look amazing I just-- I've never seen you dressed up... the nicest thing I've seen you in is that one uniform the SSR has the lady agents wear. Not-not-not that you don't look nice in it, you do. You always do, it's just..." He tries to recover but all it does is put an amused smile on your face. "I'll shut up now."

"Oo." You smirk. "Did I render thee James Buchanan Barnes speechless?" You put a hand to your chest. "I gotta tell Mags this, she's been pinning after you since we got deployed here."

"Mags?" He raises an eyebrow. "Oh! The brunette that helps in the office."

"No, the blonde nurse who always takes a little too long patching you up." You correct, now it's his turn to smirk.

"Jealous?" He brings his beer bottle to his lips.

"Maybe." You insecurely mumble causing him to shake his head in a scolding manner.

"I was only teasin', doll." Bucky reaches across the table, grabbing your hand in his. "You know you're the only gal for me." He lifts your hand to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to your knuckles.

"And you're the only gal for me, Barnes." You smirk once again.

Bucky shakes his head but his smile gets larger. You give him a tightlipped smile.

"You always know how to cheer me up." He whispers, his smile falling into a sad but love-sick grin. You frown.

"Why did you need to be cheered up in the first place?" You question.

He shakes his head while letting out a sigh. "I'm worried." He admits, tightening his grip on your hand. "I'm worried that something bad is gonna happen and I'll die or you'll die or we all get captured and..." He buries his head in his hands. "I don't think I can handle it."

Your heart breaks at the sight. You've come to know Bucky Barnes as the strong, level-headed, cocky soldier who loved to flirt ever since you met him several months ago. He's never had broken down... well, at least not in front of you.

You move around the table to his side of the booth, taking a seat right next to him.

"James." You coo, sitting so your body is angled toward his body. You bring a hand up to his chest, resting it over his heart. "Breath, hun', breathe... in, out, in, out." You coach.

Bucky follows your directions, slowly inhaling in and out on your beat. As his breathing gets more even, he moves his hand over the one over his chest. Once he is calmed down, he nods and you go to remove your hand, placing it on his thigh instead.

You both sit there for a few moments, taking time to let him completely compose himself. When you feel that he is good, you speak.

"Hey, Buck." You give his thigh a light squeeze. He turns his head toward you, giving you a hum of acknowledgment. "Just remember, you're saving lives when you're out there. Saving the future. Making sure that the world is a safe place for the people who live on it.

"You're fighting for your country and doin' a good ass job at it." You inform, a small smile slowly starts to form on his face. "There's going to be stories of the badass soldier who kicked Nazi ass and helped end the war while looking pretty damn good doin' it." He lets out a small chuckle causing you to smile.

"Your kids will be able to tell your grandkids about how your adventures..." You continue making Bucky's smile widen even more. He then throws his arm around your shoulders, pulling you to his side. "...about how you were a big ol' hero back in the good ol' days where the time was simpler." You place a hand on his cheek, leaning in to give him a kiss. 

The smooch only lasts a few seconds because of the fact that the two of you can't stop smiling.

"Our kids." Bucky says, keeping eye contact.

"What?"

"Our kids will be telling our grandchildren about my adventures, your adventures... our adventures." He clarifies, a dopey grin on his face. "They'll tell the story of tomorrow, the day after, the month after, the year after, our wedding day, everythin'." He says, resting his forehead against yours. "They'll tell the story of tonight."

You can't fight the large, love-sick smile that spreads onto your lips. 

"They'll tell the story of tonight." You happily repeat.