#40'sbucky

[ironstank]

TRYING TO TRANSMIT, CAN YOU HEAR ME? GROUND CONTROL TO MAJOR TOM.

PAIRING(S): Bucky x Reader | SOULMATE AU

WARNING(S): I actually don't remember whether or not there are curse words, sorry not sorry

WORD COUNT: 1451

Tagging: @baezen @oheleven @claritycas @obiwanker

AUTHOR’S NOTE: all i’m gonna say is 40′s bucky makes an appearance . . . and i love me my 40′s bucky.

PART TWO: BUT I STILL GOT JAZZ, WHEN I’VE GOT THOSE BLUES. PUT THE RADIO ON, HOLD YOU TIGHT IN MY MIND.

MASTERLIST ( ! ) • PROMPTS ( ! ) • ASK BOX ( ! )

MARCH 10, 1917

James Buchanan Barnes was born to Winifred and George Barnes.

George swiped his thumb across the collar bones of his newborn. As the blood began to clear, Winifred and George looked upon one another as they stared at their boy’s countdown.

0 : 0 : 0 : 0 : 0 : 0 : 0

Their son was made for no one.

—

SEPTEMBER 03, 1925

Eight-year-old James Barnes sighed at a scrawny blond boy on the dirt of the school’s playground. The brunette boy offered his hand. The seven-year-old boy muttered his gratitude as he dusted himself off.

“I’m James. But Ma and my sisters call me Bucky.”

“Steve.” Bucky’s eyes drop to the boy’s wrist.

17 : 8 : 3 : 0 : 17 : 32 : 16

—

FEBRUARY 19, 1933

Bucky’s eyes scanned the dusty old house which sheltered five cots. Four for his sisters and one for his mother. He held his sister tight as he shielded her from all the rain and thunder. “I heard a girl’s daddy should always be her first love. How can I have a first love who I can’t even see anymore.”

Bucky sighed at the makeshift bed made of old blankets across his own. His father’s bed. He brought his sister closer and rested his head above hers. “Oh, darling, I’ll be your first love.”

Little Rebecca manoeuvred her head from under his chin to look at his pretty blue eyes. “How do you love if you don’t have a soulmate?”

Bucky sighed again and pulled his sister closer. “With all my heart and then some.”

—

JULY 16, 1934 

Bucky smirked at the pretty young girls on the other side of the courtyard. They all cheered for him.  The day Bucky stopped playing Cops and Robbers was the same day he decided to try a new give-no-fucks attitude towards women — or, more precisely, the idea of soulmates.

Bucky was raised in a house of four sisters and a wonderful mother. The day he stopped respecting women would be the day he stopped breathing. Sure, dames were beautiful, sweet and sugary — but Bucky Barnes was a young lad made for none, and none were made for him.

Who said so?

The buttload of zeros on his collarbones said so.

—

AUGUST 06, 1936

Bucky sat with Steve on the porch of his house. Buck had a toothpick hanging out the side of his mouth as Steve fiddled with one of his sister’s toys. Bucky had his eyes set on a pretty girl. “What do you think of Dolly?”

Steve raised his head, tearing his eyes away from the complex children’s toy. His brow raised as he looked between the girl in the sweet, summer dress, and his pal in the dirty white shirt, dark green trousers, worker boots, and a peaked hat. “I don’t,” Steve mumbled. “Heard her an’ Joseph are soulmates. Found out a week ago or somethin’.”

Bucky clicked his tongue and cursed under his breath. It had been known for those without soulmates to settle with people who were quite the the same. Besides, not all soulmates died together. Complications and all that yada yada. Last time Bucky checked, nobody had ever seen Dolly’s countdown. “Doss is as crazy as his old man. A damn tragedy a dame like her gets caught up with a damn fool bastard — “

Steve rolled his eyes. “Careful, Buck. You don’t watch your mouth and you’ll best end up with Bonnie — or Darlene.” Bucky snorted at the thought of the twin sisters across the road. Steve only reverted his attention back to Rebecca’s knickknack. He rolled his eyes to himself as he heard his best mate mutter something along the lines of ratty old witches.

—

JUNE 15, 1942

Bucky sighed at the crowded train station. His ma and sisters trailed behind him in a small, chaotic crowd. Bucky began to push and shove his way through the crowd of civilians and soldiers wearing identical uniforms to his. As cops attempted to settle the rowdy crowd of wailing and crying civilians saying goodbye to their soldier, Steve stood beside his mother with a sigh. 

One by one, Bucky hugged his sisters all standing in a line. He stopped by Rebecca, his youngest sister, who now carried a pregnant belly. He knelt down, gave his little sister’s belly a kiss, then stood in front of her soulmate. Four out of four sisters had found their love. It was only John who came along to say goodbye. The others were pulling their weight at the factory or were already drafted. John nodded at his soulmate’s brother. “I’ll take care of all of them.”

Bucky nodded, a soft look on his face. He turned to Steve. Gave him a hug. Then the soldier gave his ma a hug and a kiss on the cheek. “We love you, Buck,” his mother cried. “You stay safe now, you hear me, boy?”

As Bucky settled into one of the seats by the train window, he glanced at all the lovers with a clock just like his. The only differences were the soulmates in each other’s arms. The sergeant pinched his nose as he squeezed his eyes shut. “Pull yourself together.”

—

SEPTEMBER 23, 1942

Sergeant Dum Dum Dugan pinched the corners of his orange, fluffy moustache, curling it upwards as he stared at Sergeant James Barnes with squinted eyes. “How about you, Sarge? No special lady?”

Bucky snorted. He tossed Pinky Pinkerton his old lady’s picture. “That’ll be the day, gentlemen.” 

A chorus of exclamations were released by the men in his cabin. Half of the men in the cabin still slept, so, the wild soldiers began to die down in volume. Falsworth let out a low whistle, “You have been cursed with a blessing, my friend.”

Bucky rolled his eyes at his British army brother. He turned and grabbed his pillow. Bucky raised his arms and slammed it down on a sleeping soldier. “Rise an' shine, rats. Get off your asses! Drill sergeants up an’ coming.”

—

MONTH OF BIRTH + DAY OF BIRTH, 1997

The Winter Soldier hadn’t been activated since 1991. Little did anyone know, the soldier couldn’t cry out, but he felt the pain. It was unlike anything he had ever felt. The assassin couldn’t remember his own war stories, but he just knew this pain was different. 

It stung. It burned. It ticked. It felt like Heaven. It felt like Hell. His eyes were slammed shut, and his body was frozen. Literally. The soldier calmed his mind and began to attempt to locate the source of the pain. Just below the collarbones.

18 : 9 : 2 : 3 : 8 : 52 : 59

Someone was made for James Barnes.

—

SEPTEMBER 30, 2016

It wasn’t until the day Steve Rogers accidentally walked in on Bucky drowning in his own sweat, training alone and in the dark at twelve in the morning, did the two soldiers finally have a heart to heart. “Nobody blames you, Buck.”

“They will.”

“Who?”

Bucky sighed and pulled the collars of his shirt down. “Whoever this is.”

—

OCTOBER 01, 2016

Steve walked into the laboratory of the Avengers Tower. He placed a tablet onto one of the steel tables. Tony and Bruce barely spared them a glance. Tony threw a handful of nuts into his mouth. Without glancing at the man out of time,  Tony hummed. “How can we help you today, Tinkerbell?”

Steve sighed. “I need your help.”

Tony’s brows shot to his hairline. “What? Gramps run out of old fashioned tricks up his sleeve?”

“I need to find Bucky’s soulmate.”

—

NOVEMBER 04, 2017

Bucky’s fists bounced off the punching bag repeatedly. 

Steve walked behind the bag and held it securely in his arms in attempt to help his friend. “Buck.” 

The soldier only punched harder.

“Bucky, I found your soulmate.” Then the punching stopped.

—

DECEMBER 31, 2017

You were in a red dress and champagne. Literally. Some jackass decided to slam into you causing you to spill your drink just seconds before the ball drop. You groaned inwardly at the thought of your awkwardness. It wasn’t until a metal arm was extended to your direction with a pile of folded napkins. The arm was only ignored as your ankles began to sting and burn. You dropped to the floor and clutched your burning ankle. It wasn’t until you saw your clock officially run out as the clock on your ankle turned into zero’s. Your mouth was gaping open. “Oh, my God.”

Bucky‘s head dropped in relief. He sighed in contempt. As his head raised, a soft smile appeared. 

5 . . . 4 . . . 3 . . . 2 . . . 1

“You have no idea how long it’s been for me, doll.”

[ironstank]

WHEN A GIRL MEETS BOY

PAIRING(S): 40's!Bucky x Reader, Dum Dum Dugan x OFC Dotty

WARNING(S): Curse words 

WORD COUNT: 1973

AUTHOR’S NOTES: I wrote this on a whim and I love it so much fvlgffbnefjnf Bucky is actually my most favourite thing in the planet like he could punch me in the face with his metal arm (or what used to be his metal arm) and I would thank him for it. 

Listen to How About You by Judy Garland (1941), then You’ll Never Know by Alice Faye (1943)

MASTERLIST ( ! ) • PROMPTS ( ! ) • ASK BOX ( ! )

1943, SOMEWHERE BEHIND THE ENEMY LINES 

War was a mean place. You knew that better than anybody.

You were an army nurse, straight out of your father’s farm in England. But simply put, you were an army brat. Your father, an old veteran, now a farmer. Your mother, an old army nurse, now a wife of a farmer. Your brothers were also soldiers of war, like your grandfather, and his father before him, and his father before him.

1939, the army was recruiting. It was not voluntary. Anybody over the age of 18 and unmarried were expected to enlist. Your brothers saw it as an opportunity to mean something – to be a part of something bigger than themselves. But truth be told, they probably left to impress the ladies in town.

Nevertheless, your brothers run off with their heads held high and brave faces, but your father was not glad. He was not proud. He did not wave them goodbye with a smile on his face, his arm was not around your mother’s waist with a look of pride and joy. In fact, your brothers had left in the middle of the night, through the window, leaving all but a light kiss on your forehead before they had run off to the save their country. Four years had passed, and you had not heard from then since.

You hated them for it. And then you didn’t, because soon enough, you had done the same thing. You followed your mother’s footsteps like your brothers had followed your fathers. You had left with all but a daisy on your bed, and a red stained lip kiss on your favourite handkerchief your grandmother knitted you.

Now, you hated yourself for it.

Your lovely parents only ever wanted you to be safe – all of you. Your brothers, yourself – your parents always said they hated every second they ever spent in war.

Now you were somewhere in Italy, far, far, away from the safety of home. You, along with a dozen nurses you soon began seeing as the sisters you never had, were kidnapped and captured and became prisoners of war. You along with hundreds of Allied soldiers.

Many had come and gone. None came back. They were taken for something. Torture, interrogation, experiments, whatever it was it couldn’t have been good. You and your girls had been there for months. You didn’t speak German, but a Dorothy did. She was your friend.

SEVEN MONTHS AGO FROM TODAY, FOUR DAYS AFTER BEING TAKEN:

“What are they saying, Dotty?” You whispered towards her.

Dotty brushed her blonde hair away from her face. “They refuse to touch us.”

Mary, another friend of yours, whispered beside you. “Like what they’re doing to the soldiers?” She raised her brow.

Dotty nodded. All of you sat on the floor of the cage you were locked in. Her hand was raised on the bars as she stared at the NAZI soldiers. “Yes. Not until they capture more of us.”

You raised your brow. “Pardon me?”

“They need more women to experiment on, but they don’t have enough. They’re waiting until they catch more of us.” She gulped and spun around. “Then they’ll begin.”

“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph.”

The newest set of soldiers were American – mostly. You and the girls were used to British and French soldiers, actually, you’d met a couple of Australians along with way, too. They were all dead now. 

Winifred had already made friends. She was another nurse from your infantry. She asked them the same questions she always asked the newbies. What infantry are you from? How many of you? Any women with you? And, will there be anyone coming to save us?

On average, it took the Germans months to get through one infantry since there were hundreds of soldiers. Currently, your girls and the 107th infantry were on standby. They had arrived two months after you and your girls, making a total of five months of being imprisoned together.

Beside your cage, was a group of soldiers, none too savage and pig-headed, in fact, they were gentlemen. When they first arrived, they ratted you tired from their questions. None of which were about their safety, but instead, about yours.

“Are you ladies hurt?”

“How long have you been here?”

“Did those bastards touch you?”

“We’ll fucking kill them if they did.”

“C’mon, doll, don’t shy away, tell us the truth”

James Buchanan Barnes.

Oh, he was a dream. Mocha brown hair, bright blue eyes like heaven. His face was as handsome as he was kind. A total dreamboat, in your opinion. Young, handsome, brave, intelligent, and his smile was the brightest out of all. He became your best friend. In his cage, there was four of them left – once upon a time, there were twenty-two. When the Germans return, his odds weren’t so great.

He first met you when you were sat on the floor with the girls. The soldiers of war were crying, wailing, screaming, threatening. The 107th was new then, and one thing you and the girls had realised was that soldiers all went through the same stages. Anger, more anger, frustration, sadness, then acceptance.

And you were just about sick of it. Sure, you let them be, you allowed them to be men – to be human. But these men, goodness me, they’re anger lasted at least three times more than all the others.

Dotty’s head was on your lap, the other girls were also sitting and fiddling with each other’s hair. “I miss my victory rolls.” Dotty pouted.

You smiled softly and continued to brush your fingers through her blonde hair. “I know, darling.” Before you could say more, the sound of angry men fighting interrupted. Your words died before they were born. You remembered your life back at the farm; picking flowers, collecting eggs, milking the cows, picking strawberries. The sun seeped through your skin as the fresh, clean wind blew past your face. You’d be wearing a clean dress that always got dirty before noon arrived. Even then, there wasn’t anyone to judge you. And to past the time, you’d sing. You took a deep breath.

“When a girl meets boy / life can be a joy / but the note they end on / will depend on little pleasures they will share / so let us compare.”

Soon enough, the men of war began to silence. Dotty’s face turned to awe, and hundreds of eyes were on you.

“I like New York in June, how about you? / I like Gershwin tune, how about you? / I love a fireside when a storm is due / I like potato chips, moonlight and motor trips / How about you? / I’m mad about good books, can’t get my fill / and Franklin Roosevelt’s looks give me a thrill / holding hands at the movie show / when all the lights are low / may not be new, but I like it / how about you? / I like Jack Benny’s jokes / to a degree / I love the common folks / that includes me / I like to window shop on 5th Avenue / I like banana splits, late supper at the Ritz / How about you?”

“Doll?” Bucky’s voice broke through the crowd of soldiers.

Your eyes turned to his. And suddenly, it was only you and him. “Hi, Buck.”

He beamed. His eyes were just as tired as yours, and his heart probably as heavy. “What was your mother like?”

You smiled at his question. “Well, she was beautiful. A strong woman. She was also an army nurse, like me.” You smiled at the thought of your mother. “She’s every bit as hard-headed as I am.”

He held your index finger through the holes of the cage. “She sounds wonderful.”

You nodded, brushing your [Y/H/C] hair behind your ears. “She would have liked you.”

A soft and playful look washed over his face. “You’d want me to meet your Ma?”

You giggled and nodded once more. “I think you’d be the first man my mother would approve of.”

His posture straightened ever so slightly in pride. Then he paused, frowned, then turned to you. “You bring home men a lot?”

“No, silly.” You smiled, wiggling you finger that was in his hand. “I lived in a farm. Not a lot of guys like a lady who gets dirty.” 

Bucky huffed. “I do.”

Your smile widened. “I know.”

Silence came from the both of you, comfortable silence, anyway. You listened to the conversations of the others. Dotty had gotten herself an older fellow. She was as fond of him as he was of her. His name was Dum Dum Dugan. You received a wink from him as you caught his eye. You grinned. You hadn’t even noticed Bucky’s eyes on you until he spoke again. 

“They’ll be back soon, doll.”

Your face fell. No, no, no, no, no, this can’t be happening. “Don’t say that, Buck.” You whimpered.

His brows narrowed as he turned to you in concern and sadness. The tears in your eyes were threatening to fall. “Doll, don’t cry.” He whispered. His grabbed as much of your hand as he could, rubbing his thumbs on your skin. “Hey, hey, hey, don’t you do that to me, sweet girl, look at me.” And so you did. “Now, you know I love the sound of your voice. And your eyes, man that has to be one of my favourite things about you.”

Well, that was it. A tear had escaped and there was nothing you could do to stop it. “Buck … ”

He sighed, then chuckled drily. “I really wish I got to take you on a date.”

You sniffed then shook your head. “You will.” You nodded at him through your tears. “Oh, James, you will. Just survive, and when we get out of here, take me to dinner at your favourite restaurant. Take me to meet your ma, and your pal, Steve. You said they’d like me. You know how much I like being praised.”

Bucky’s eyes brightened. “That punk.” He chuckled. “Alright, I’ll even take you to meet the fellas at my barbershop. I already know Ma’s gonna love you. So will Rebecca.” – his baby (and favourite) sister out of four. You sighed and nodded. The comfort from his fingers seeped through you. “Can you do me a final favour, doll?”

Your eyes bounced from his left eye to his right. You’d already memorised the difference. The iris on his left eye was slightly larger. The one on his right had specks of darker blue. There were creases on the sides of his eyes. This man smiled so much, they left permanent evidence of it. The sides of his mouth twitched up as he noticed your stare. You had memorised his face as he had yours. “Sing for me, doll.”

You didn’t have to be told twice.

“You’ll never know just how much I miss you / you’ll never know just how much I care / and if I tried, I still couldn’t hide my love for you / you ought to know, for haven’t I told you so / a million or more times / went away and my heart went with you / I speak your name in my every prayer / If there is some other way to prove that I love you / I swear I don’t know how / you’ll never know if you don’t know now – ”

You couldn’t finish your song.

The Germans had come to take him in their arms.

THREE DAYS SINCE YOU’D SEEN BUCKY:

The sound of footsteps woke you up.

You blinked rapidly, your eyes desperate for clear sight.

“Who are you supposed to be?”

You began searching your surroundings until you spotted the source of the voice. A man was perched over the cages, hands ruffling in a bag. The commotion had gotten everybody’s attention.

“Captain America.” 

Dotty cocked her head from beside you. “Are you wearing tights?”