Imagine Bucky goes to the bank, only for a gang to bust in and try to rob it. (“This was meant to be my day off. Come on!” Bucky thinks, as he systematically wipes the floor with them.)

imaginebucky:

“Clown masks? Are you serious right now?” The man on the floor makes a pained sound and wriggles ineffectually; Bucky is almost inclined to laugh at him. He’s not going anywhere, not tied as he is in the line ropes, and certainly not with Bucky’s boot pinning him to the tile.

Bucky’s a lot heavier than he looks. It’s useful.

“I mean, first of all, robbing a bank. Who even does that? That’s – that’s serious movie shit, pal,” Bucky continues. “Or comics. Not ‘Tuesday morning in DC’. I am really very, very annoyed with you; I had plans.” He deigns to cast a glance down. The man’s mask has shifted just enough that Bucky can see him roll his eyes – which, seriously, bank robbers do not get to be snotty – so he presses down just a little harder, and his captive lets out a squeak. His two accomplices are silent; unconscious (those brass stanchions really pack a wallop) and helpfully wrapped in duct tape by one intrepid construction worker who had been conveniently in line waiting to cash their paycheck.

It’s so nice to see people engaging in their civic duties. 

“Hey, so, I’m going to miss my lunch date because of this doofus,” Bucky says, looking up and addressing the small crowd of bank patrons. They’ve formed a loose semicircle in the lobby, tellers and patrons having crept out from under their desks and behind the counter to watch the show with wide eyes. “But I sort of broke my phone on his guy’s nose. Can I borrow one real quick?”

15 are offered at once.