Stucky One Shots

Actor-Bucky, Director-Steve

"Hey, James, I found you a job." Tony comments, waving a paper at the brunette. James leans forwards, intrigue dancing in his blue-grey eyes.

"Oh, really? Directed by whom?" He inquires, tilting his head, a lock of brown hair falling into his eye.

"Uh, directed by a Steven Rogers." He reads, handing the brunette the paper. James reads it quietly, his eyebrow raising a little.

"Not bad. When do I go in?" He asks, looking at his agent, Tony Stark. Snarky, sassy and a sarcastic a**, Tony's been with him for as long as he's been an actor; since he's been fifteen years old.

Story was, he wanted to be an actor, and his family life sucked; mom an alcoholic, his dad died when he was young; so he ran away. Somehow, an agency found him, took him in and he got to live out his dream.

"Tuesday, I got you set up for an audition and a meeting with the director. You're welcome, kid." He muses, James smiles a little at him.

"Thanks, Tony." He hums, Tony winks and nods, he rubs his goatee. James checks the clock on the wall and sighs, he gathers papers together, compiles them and puts them quickly in his knapsack.

"Got somewhere to be?" Tony says, pretending to sound hurt. James rolls his eyes playfully, shrugging his coat and scarf on.

"Yup." He replies, popping the 'p'. Tony nods, he fixes his tie.

"Okay. See you, kiddo." He hums, James smirks and salutes before sauntering out the door.

////

Monday morning and James was getting nervous, but excited as well. He'd heard a great many things about the director, he'd done a lot of movies, and almost all of them were well rated. He wanted to get the role really badly, he think it'd be fun.

James' role in the film was to play an assassin, who's been brainwashed into betraying and trying to kill his best friend. Along the way he picks up men and women alike (he plays a player), and they stop the evil Nazi-grouped crew of Hydra.

"You'll be fine, James." His best friend, Natasha Romanov, sighs. He leans over his knees and rubs his hands together anxiously, licking his lips.

"I really wanna get this role, 'Tasha, what if I'm not good enough?" He worries, she tucks a strand of her perfectly straight red hair behind her ear, her dark green eyes looking at him.

"You'll. Be. Fine." She pronounces clearly, putting a hand on his shoulder and rubbing it. He sighs and nods slowly.

"Besides, even if I don't get the job there are always others, right?" He says, trying to be hopeful. She smiles and nods. She looks down at her watch then back up at James.

"I gotta go, James. Good luck with your audition." She hums, kissing his forehead before starting to saunter off.

"What happened to you'll be fine?" He calls after her. She turns and gives him a small smirk before leaving. He smiles to himself, then drums his fingers on his knees. Shaking his head, he grabs his laptop and drags it over onto his lap, he turns it on then Google's Steven Rogers.

James' eyes widen at what he sees; tall, strong, blue-eyed and blonde-haired, there was a photo of Steven when he was an actor in some surfer movie. He looked good.

"Holy cow." James whispers to himself, scrolling through and seeing all the work he's done, all the movies. He pauses when there's a small biography about him, he reads it through, then feels for the guy. His dad died when he was six and his mom died when he was about nineteen, twenty. He was a small kid then, weak and sickly, but he just trained and an american beauty was created. Known by Steve to his friends, he can be a gentle giant (tall at six foot two) and he can be scary when he's mad. Luckily this guy's pretty chill.