Notes

((Political Animals au, Can be Captain America verse or not, up to you.))
TJ shivered huddled into himself and pulled his hood tighter around his head as he trudged down the sidewalk of some random ass neighborhood at two in the morning, coming down from his sex and drug induced high. All he had on was a pair of black skinny jeans and a thin hoodie, which was hardly of any use, given that it was absolutely pissing down rain and no more than 40 degrees outside, and that's without the wind and rain chill. He hoped if he walked for long enough he would hit the main road and be able to find his way to a motel or catch a cab. He'd tried calling his brother, ten times in fact, but he wasn't answering and there was no way in hell he was going to call either of his parents. He kicked a bottle, cursing himself. He really needed to stop hooking up with guys who were, unbeknownst to him, already in relationships. He shivered and wrapped the jacket tighter around himself in an attempt keep at least a tiny bit warm, but it wasn't really working- he was already soaked to the bone and the rain was coming down harder than ever. He heard a car in the distance and looked up as the headlights came around the bend; and just as he did, he stepped on a piece of broken glass. He cursed aloud and hopped for about a foot and a half before he sat down on the curb to pull the glass out, putting his foot on his other knee, a steady stream of curses still leaving his mouth as well as blood down his foot. He tossed the glass into the heavy stream of water that was flowing down the side of the street and, grumbling to himself, bundled up some of the arm of his hoodie to put pressure on the wound- which was probably deep enough to warrant a trip to the hospital.

((Modern College au, skinny Steve. Unestablished. Replies don't have to match length. Inspired by this gif http://tinyurl.com/o9spsjy))
It was a lovely day in mid February- even if it was a bit on the cooler side- and they both of them had the day off. Steve was restless, but he didn't really want to do anything, so he laid out on the couch and enjoyed the view out of the window- but he was hardly still. His foot kept tapping and he couldn't get comfortable. Bucky must have gotten tired of his fidgeting because suddenly his coat was thrown onto his torso and he was being told they were going for a walk- an idea he wasn't opposed to. He hoped up, pulled on boots and coat then followed Bucky out the door.
He lost track of how long they'd been walking, talking about everything and nothing, and it was really nice, he quietly wished they did this more often. They were a few blocks away from the coffee shop when Bucky told him to wait, grabbed him by the elbow and turned him around so they were facing each other. Steve tipped his head to the side, giving a confused look to the brunet, who seemed nervous for some reason.
Bucky took deep breath and started talking about how they've known each other since they were barley out of diapers, and how they'd been through so much together, he was rambling honestly, stalling- or at least as far as Steve was concerned, he was staling the point. Bucky always did that when he was nervous and sometimes it was endearing, others it was annoying; right now though, he couldn't decided which, because he couldn't figure out what Bucky's end point was going to be. However, after about two and a half minutes of his speech, accompanied by his body language, the blush on his cheeks, and the look in his eye when he glanced up at Steve from the pavement, Steve could conclude where this was going. Bucky had done almost this exact same thing with Natasha back in high school. He'd been crushing on her for years and half way through freshman year he asked her out in this real shy, cute way and they ended up dating for three years.
Steve was blushing now, too, and smiling almost uncontrollably. He bit his lip, took a small breath and a step closer to Bucky, leaned up and cut him off with a long over due kiss.

Bucky walking down the streets of Brooklyn when it's cold and wet (post tws)

((Modern au, stripper Steve, replies don't have to match the length. Steve's body ref: http://tinyurl.com/krvlbfd same hight as Bucky. (If you don't want to click the think, Steve isn't quite as buff and muscled up as he is in the movies.) Unestablished or complicated as in friends w/ benefits type deal ))
//Shit. Shit shit shit shit. God how am I going to explain this? What must Bucky be thinking?// Steve could think about as he continued to dance, barley holding it together and keeping pace with the music. Bucky and a few of his buddies had walked in a little after the beginning of his show and sat down at the bar and he knew Bucky had seen him and recognized him. He looked pissed, to say the least. His jaw was clenched and his eyes were dark and fixed on Steve as he downed his beer then a few shots before he and his friends moved to a table, Bucky making sure to have his back towards Steve- but he still looked tense.
As soon as he finished his act he hurried back stage to text Bucky, hoping beyond hope that he was just imaging things and it was just someone who looked like Bucky. Unfortunately there was already a text from Bucky waiting for him- it read simply 'Outside. Now.' He cursed and threw his phone back on the couch and pushed his fingers through his hair, pulling at it. He took a deep breath and started cursing under his breath as he tugged on his jeans, which were kinda ripped up. He calmed himself down as much he could in two minutes and headed out the back door and to the the front where Bucky was waiting, taking a long drag from his cigarette, arms crossed, foot tapping and looking very, very angry- which he had every right to be, he supposed.
Steve stopped several feet away from the brunette and wrapped his arms tightly around himself. God he felt like running away, but he forced himself to stay. He swallowed thickly and said "Hey," looking down at his bare feet, voice barley above a whisper as he braced himself for the chewing out of the century that he was sure come. He'd probably get yelled at for coming out side in nothing but tattered jeans when it was nearly freezing outside, too.


Stranger: (Modern Royalty AU. Prince!Skinny!Steve was kidnapped by HYDRA for monetary purposes. Bucky was the Captain of the Guard and has been tirelessly searching for him since his disappearance. I prefer long replies.)
Sometimes Steve thinks back to when they made him make that video. The one he knew his mother and father, Bucky and the rest of the staff at his home had watched. He'd muttered his name, gritted out the ransom demands all with a gun held to his head. After he'd repeated everything he'd been asked, he'd looked directly into the camera and said with utmost clarity "Don't let Bucky do anything stupid."
He knew it didn't make sense, really. He was the one that "needed guarding". Bucky was retired a Army Ranger, top of his class, and he needed something to keep him busy after he'd finished his tours and left the Army. Steve... Well, Steve was a prince. He was "fragile" and small, and everything that Bucky wasn't. Realistically, he knew that it didn't matter if anyone tried to stop Bucky. The soldier was going to do whatever it took to get Steve home safely, with or without ransom. That thought scared him. HYDRA wasn't an organization one messed with, a group of domestic terrorists that rampaged and took political hostages for the purpose of getting what they wanted, strong arming governments into giving into their demands. Steve knew his mother and father would be willing to trade anyone's lives for his own. Including convicted war criminals. That's what they wanted. Luckily, he also knew that Bucky wouldn't let them do something that idiotic, and that he would try to do something even more stupid instead.
It was day twelve in HYDRA's custody, and Steve was beginning to lose hope. He was partly happy, and partly terrified. Happy because that meant that there was no arrangement to have the two criminals sent to HYDRA in exchange for his safe return. Terrified, because that meant he didn't know if he was ever going to go home again, if he'd even survive this ordeal. Curled up on the cot in the corner of his cell, Steve watched the hours pass by as the single ray of sunlight coming in from a hole in the wall made it's way around his room. He figured it was about six o'clock based on the current position, and then he heard it. Loud banging, firecrackers snapping outside. Men were shouting and he heard someone scream "where is he?!" before moments later firing off another round. (Continue as Bucky to the rescue!)

Stranger: ((HS!AU)) "How did you get up there?" Bucky paused, pencil stopping mid-stroke as a voice piped up from beneath him. His eyes slowly shifted from his sketchpad to the owner of said voice, narrowing a little as they fell on the figure of one of the school's football players, a blond-haired blue-eyed beefcake. Great. Ideal company. "I flew." he muttered sarcastically, eyeing the male a second longer before returning to his drawing, tucking his legs a little closer to his chest and arranging his notebook accordingly. He'd been on the roof all day, it had just taken this long for someone to notice. Then again, he was used to being invisible – this was the first time someone at this school had actually said anything to him, and he'd been here for two weeks already. People didn't tend to take much interest in Bucky Barnes. He was just the strange, scruffy, quiet loner who spent lessons doodling little pictures in the margins of his books or decided to skip the school day entirely and climb up on the roof instead, to draw bigger pictures in better books. "Why are you talking to me?" he asked in return, unable to focus on his sketch with the blond still staring at him. He was more than used to being stared at, but not by people his own age. It was usually his case workers or foster parents that did the glaring. If you asked him how many different foster homes he'd been to, he wouldn't be able to answer. His longest placement had been about a year, and the shortest had been just over a month. The vast majority lasted only a few months, at which point the foster parents would complain that he wasn't fitting in, or was too difficult to handle, or was causing too much trouble around the house. It wasn't that he didn't appreciate their efforts with him, he just couldn't help being depressing or moody or difficult; it was probably genetic. His first few years of life had been spent in an apartment with a mother who suffered from severe bipolar disorder and a father who was completely and utterly devoted to her; his mom left, and then his dad left, and then he was found alone in the apartment a week later by a concerned neighbour. Needless to say, he'd never had much of a chance at living a normal life. Always been the fucked up one. Despite this, another family had rose to the challenge of fostering him, and now he was cared for by the Lee-Kelly family. He sighed, looking back down at the blond, waiting for an answer from him – he was genuinely curious as to why this guy, of all people, had chosen to speak to him. ((Continue as Steve?))

Stranger: ((I would totally be interested in a hunter Steve, maybe? Also if you have a starter feel free to post it and I'll let you know if I'm interested. ))

As far as shitty situations went, this was probably the shittiest one Bucky had the displeasure of getting tangled up in in awhile. His running steps were staggered as he rounded the corner of an alley, clutching his right arm to his chest and trying to ignore the unpleasant burning sensation from where the iron chain had made contact with his flesh, the pain making his usually blue eyes turn completely black. The footsteps behind him were getting closer. He counted three running after him, the head one shouting out, "We'll take your other arm too, demon!" It wasn't funny at all but Bucky couldn't help a snort as he shouted back, "You guys are fuckin' insane!" God his arm burned. He rounded another corner and... And dead end. Ha, shit. Thinking fast, Bucky ignored the pain in his arm, took a few steps back, and made a running jump for the wall. His metal arm came in handy during moments like these when he needed to find purchase on the bricks. He only climbed a few stories up before he decided it was wise to get the fuck inside before the hunters saw where he was going. A little bit of magic to twist the lock and them he was opening the window, rolling inside, and quickly shutting it before slumping back against the wall and cradling his arm against his chest, hissing at the burn mark that coiled around his upper arm. It was only then that he realized the apartment he rolled into was occupied and he locked eyes with a guy that had been watching a movie on his couch. Had been, because obviously someone with all black eyes breaking into your living room is a bit of a distraction. Bucky offered a smile that probably looked a little bit pained. "Hey there."

Stranger: [TW: PTSD, possible depression. HSAU: Bucky was taken by the Red Room when he was ten. He’s rescued when he’s 16, but nobody knows that they were trained to be assassins over there] James knows that the entire school is talking about him, the strange Russian kid that started school in the middle of the year. He wonders what the rumors are and then realizes that it doesn’t matter. He didn’t want to come back to school, but his therapist had insisted that it would be good for him to spend time with his typical, American peers, and he didn’t have the energy to argue. So here he was, walking through the halls, when one of the jocks of the school stepped in front of him. “Please move,” he said, with the thick Russian accent that he’d developed over the past six years.
“Make me. I bet you aren’t scary at all,” the jock jeered, shoving James back. James sighed and repeated himself, not wanting to fight these kids. Not when he wasn’t sure that he wasn’t going to kill one on accident. He was aware of the crowd and rubbed his eyes with his heavily augmented left arm.
“Please move,” he repeated, only for another jock to shove him. He didn’t see the blue eyes staring, or the thin frame coming over to them. [Please play Pre-serum!Steve, would love to play this through to Steve enlisting and becoming Captain America]