Auld Lang Syne

So I finally graduated high school and now i’ve been accepted into going to the university of performing arts in New Zealand. Im very greatful for all the things I have accomplished and i’d like to thank Sebastian Stan. I’ve looked up to him as an inspiration to follow my dreams into becoming an actor and I think he’s a really great talented actor who deserves an Oscar.

Woohoo goodbye 13 years of schooling and hello to the adult world😌🏫📓

Could I use this as a fic prompt?

Bucky rolls over to lay on top of you in the mornings to make sure you don't try and get up

and when you do it to him he pretends that he can’t get up even though you weigh like a feather to him 

Fluffy Friday™ 

Like A Whisper In The Night pt2

Pairing: BuckyxOFC | Word Count: 5,178 | Warnings: Swearing, talk of human trafficking

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Chapter Two

Layne opened her eyes when she felt the quinjet touch down on the tarmac. She groaned and stretched her cramped shoulder muscles, her attention grabbed by Greg Andrews who was yelling at them all through a strip of fabric that he was being gagged with. 

“Welcome back, kid,” Steve chirped pleasantly, clapping his right hand on her knee. Layne smiled softly, still unused to any real interaction with the main squad. Bucky just caught her eyes with his and gave a reaffirming smile. 

Bucky had spent the flight back to Stark Tower keeping a careful side eye on Layne as she napped. He bantered with Steve and Nat with Clint adding his own snarky remarks here and there. Whenever the quinjet jostled, even a little, his eyes immediately shot over to Layne to make sure she wasn’t disturbed. It wasn’t until touchdown that he had gently tapped her away with his foot, pretending not to notice Steve and Nat smirking at each other.

“Thanks,” she said softly. “What are you guys going to do with Greg?” 

Natasha got up and opened the door to the quinjet; hopping out she offered her hand to Layne which was gratefully accepted. 

Steve attached his shield to his back and took Andrews when Bucky passed him off. “We’re going to take him down to holding. Black Widow will be heading the interrogation.” He answered, his hand holding Greg Andrews’ upper arm firmly making the older man walk nearly on his tiptoes.  

“Can I come watch?” Layne asked, hope filling her voice. The team seemed to be warming up to her, and she was hoping she could ride out that good luck into actually seeing Natasha in action.  

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Darcy and Bucky. 60: Before you decide to murder me, let me explain...

“Damn neat freak. Why can’t he just leave things out where I need them?” Darcy muttered as she shuffled through Steve’s desk as carefully as possible. If she’d had more time to take photo evidence and ensure she put everything back where it was, she would have. But she’d only been able to convince Nat to kick Steve’s ass for two bouts in the ring, maybe three tops. She didn’t want to encourage too much saltiness between teammates, after all.

“I don’t know if it’s the army or your own tight-assed nature Steve, but why the hell do you have to hide your stuff?”

He’d let her go through his sketches a week earlier and she’d found it. The perfect image she needed for her next attack on Sam. Steve had doodled him as a pin-up model, flirty posture, heels and everything. And it was the exact logo she needed to brand her new assault. Literally. If only Steve hadn’t taken away the notebook as soon as he heard her mildly evil chuckle. Spoilsport. 

If she could just find the damn sketchbook.

She had just started gently rifling through the sock drawer when there was a soft click and the door swung open behind her. Her hands clenched and she plastered a placating smile on as she turned her head. But her teasing cajole died in her throat. That wasn’t Stevie Wonder Boy at the door.

It was Bucky.

Shit.

“Before you decide to murder me, let me explain…”

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The Merchant and the Soldier

Summary: Tony is a sick man. A cold man. He is fractured like the dying light.

Hands reach out and ask for more; money, weapons, power, contracts, apologies. They'd ask for his heart if they thought he had one. - In which Tony and Bucky have a solemn conversation in the early morning hours, and in which Tony struggles to hide his cruel urges and Bucky battles with his own broken mind.

"Of Glory, Honor, and the Road to Redemption" companion piece. (Does not need to be read to read this)

Link to series -> Of Glory, Honor, and the Path to Redemption

Warnings: confused state of mind, very brief mention of murder, suggested sociopath tony stark

Tony Stark is a sick man. A cold man. He is fractured like the dying light.

The others, they don't know this.

They see him as the world sees him; an egotistical man, even if that ego is valid.

It doesn't bother him most days. In fact, after Tony accepted he simply would never be friends with the rest of the Avengers, his life became easier.

The team thought him naive and childish, always pushing him away. Steve's pursed lips, Wanda's rolled eyes, Natasha's suspicious glares, Sam's grimaces. Barnes, of all people, actually tried to be amicable.. as amicable as a lost and feral soul can be.

But he had Pepper and Rhodey, and Happy and Gene. So quietly, wrathfully, Tony put distance between them, holding his head high and flashing that billion dollar smile.

Quickly he had settled back into his old routine.

Wake up (gasping), stumble (blearily), then settle (achingly) into his lab.

Invent (breathlessly); invent (tirelessly); invent (euphorically); until his legs give out and he collapses, once again thrashing in sleepless fits.

Wash, rinse, repeat.

They never noticed him, nor asked about him, unless something came up. It was alright. It was soothing. Between the White House, Wakanda, Stark Industries, SHIELD, and every terrorist from New York to Timbuktu, Tony really didn't have the energy to entertain backstabbing 'friends'.

The ignorance towards him quelled his ever present rage and helped him hide when he slipped up. When Tony lost control for a moment and everything rushed to a torrent between his ears, knuckles whitening, thoughts of revenge and vehemence urging him to kick them from his tower.

Eyes that judge never see the truth, and hands that are bitten eventually recoil. "But it would not be today," Tony tells himself calmly, with a smile, as he wipes coffee and shards from his hands. DUM-E beeps solemly, sweeping the remnants of a shattered mug away.

Hands reach out and ask for more; money, weapons, power, contracts, apologies. They'd ask for his heart if they thought he had one.

What a joke.

I need a new bow.

Sigh.

My suit is torn.

Twitch.

Upgrade the helicarrier by next Friday.

Breathe.

Gala at 6, conference at 11.

Smile.

Don't you have somewhere else to be?

Calm.

Nowdays it seemed to be Doctor Doom and his stupid Doombots, terrorizing New York and Chicago. Cap would call for him and they would all meet for a few hours. Defeat Doom for a day, and retreat.

Sometimes.., sometimes Tony would consider just ending Doom.

Killing him.

Feeling the man's skull squelch between his armored fingers. Laughing estatically as blood seeped into the carpet..

The man's infuriating plans were novice, but still destructive. Yet if he did.. that, Tony would never leave his tower. What would be the point? It would be rare for civilians to even be injured during these fights, so it really wasn't that bad to let Doom live. Not with the original Avengers, sans Clint, Thor, and Bruce, plus Spiderman, Barnes, Ant-man, Vision, and the twins. Together they formed a formidable team. They had every twist, turn, bullet, and bounce fine tuned to a well oiled and righteous fist.

At night when the world is asleep, he stands with a glass of whiskey and stares out across the twinkling skyline.

One time, Barnes happens upon him.

The reformed assassin appears surprised. Of course, Tony thinks, what kind of nutter stands in the shadows like a statue.

"Sorry," Barnes croaks out, turning to leave.

"Don't be," Tony hums. "Want one?"

The taller man half turns to face him with confusion written across his face.

Tony clinks his glass.

"Oh.. uh.."

"Sure," Tony supplies. "Come here," he gestures.

The faint city lights illuminate James Barnes as the man steps forward tentatively, feeling cornered and uncertain.

"I won't bite,” the industrialist hums. It’s almost a giggle; humorous and childlike.

Pouring amber liquor into a crystal glass, Tony moves from the shadows into the dim lighting with grace. "Here."

Barnes stares at him. Eyes wide and blue like a puppy, and finally, Tony does not feel thunderous cruelty in his veins.

"I.. thanks." Barnes replies, carefully taking the glass.

Moments of silence pass between them, comfortable for Tony and eerie for Barnes, before the supersoldier can't take the strange interaction any longer.

"Can't get drunk," he grunts, eyes cast far away and beyond the city, likely reliving horrors unimaginable. "Serum stops it."

Tony quirks an eyebrow, bringing his glass to his lips. "Not even on Asgardian mead?"

Barnes shrugs, "Haven't tried it. Could-could you imagine a raging drunk Winter Soldier?"

Tony stills and Barnes thinks he never should have accepted the drink, until Tony's cackling, biting laughter explodes across the balcony and into the night. Barnes jumps for a moment, rattled, but still smiles a little.

"That'd be pretty bad," Tony laughs raucously, "HOO THA HEEEYL IS BUHKEE?" he grunts out in a gravelly baritone, pulling a sour face. He wheezes as he laughs.

Incredulously, Barnes gapes at the mans audacity before his own laughter bubbles up, long forgotten and disused. They collapse against the railing, giggling like children, and bask in a strange but shared moment of comfort.

Tony sighs as he leans against a pillar, "Fuck this place. Just fuck it."

Barnes, who is still leaning against the railing in a state of bewilderment, turns his head. Tony’s moods were giving him whiplash but he wondered if the man was always like this and he had just never noticed. "Are you drunk, Stark?"

"No," the darker haired man snorts. "I'd need another ten, maybe twelve of these to be."

Barnes contemplates him silently, unsure of how to reply. He needn't have bothered, though, as Tony powered on.

"Don't you get sick of them?" Tony spat, face crinkling in anger. "The 'team'. Above everyone else, all mighty and just. Anyone can throw a shield or a knife, shoot someone in the head, and pretend they're a hero. Guess the only difference is, sometimes they are. But sometimes they aren't."

The Soldier is stunned and uncertain of what to say. Words do not come easily to him anymore. They are foreign and rusted, and if he isn't careful, inflict as much damage as his vibranium fist. He chooses his words carefully, certain the genius is aware of their weight, and likely, a victim of the same scathing repertoire the media aims at himself.

"They aren't fond of you," he begins lowly, "Because of your intelligence." It comes off as more of a question, and to which Tony mutely shakes his head. "Or because you don't fall in line," Barnes offers, feeling a dusty resurgence of fear towards his prior handlers. It hits him like a train and he supposes, if it's true, then he hadn't left it all behind him after all.

Tony confirms it with a bitter grin, "Bingo, amigo," he hisses. "What use is a soldier if I don't follow orders like a good little dog. Problem is I'm not a soldier and they know it. Pawns of war aren't supposed to be variables."

Barnes stays quiet, bothered by this revelation.

"You know why Natasha doesn't like me?" Tony asks, draining his glass. "When she applied to SI, I knew who she was. You can't hide from me," the man hisses, fist clench dangerously tight around the crystal glass. Tony's tone rattles him to the bone, stoking his paranoia. It’s so unlike the officious and enthused man who usually blitz’s around the labs, and more like a man.. a memory, vague, comes to mind. Probably someone from the war. From Stevie.. 

Of course, Barnes knew all about Widow's espionage. He had read their files; studied scrupulously to confirm Steve's assurances that they are not in fact HYDRA.

"She knows that now, she must. I let her join Pepper. SHIELD wanted something and I was interested. Her report, as I'm sure you know," he spoke dryly, "Stated 'Iron Man yes, Tony Stark no.' Simple verbiage, clear intent. But what they overlooked is even simpler. I had a change of heart in Afghanistan- declared a symptom of PTSD, but SI was only the company. Those weapons came from here," he tapped his temple. "Natasha took too long to realise this. Now she is weary of me. Thinks I'm a loose cannon. Naive. But she doesn't understand. Without me, SHIELD would not have been resurrected. The bows, the arrows, the Widows bites, the jets. They are me and I am them. The suit can fly and fight, but it's little more than a drone with a detonator without me,"

"Then why do you stay?" Tony shrugs half heartedly, eyes set hard upon central park.

He hums. "Thanos is coming."

A shiver races down the taller man's spine, icy like the tundra, like his old bed, like 1944. "For Pepper."

"For Pepper," Tony nods, "And Gene, and Happy and Rhodey, and humanity. What is right is not often wanted."

They return to a quiet, solemn companionship. In which Tony muses over his nightmares, over Thanos, the gaping void in the sky, and the blood thrumming in his veins. In which Barnes feels hollow, and cold, and longs for warmth and acceptance, but falls short, always riddled with paranoia as he fights the voice in his head. Eventually as the stars start to wink out, one by one, and the traffic below grows louder, James Barnes straightens up and asks one final question.

"If we live," comes the hoarse, tired words, "What will you do after?"

Tony bites his lip, hand wavering, before he drops his glass off the side and watches it plummet two hundred stories to the alley below. "The same as usual, pumpkin. Smile, wave, and dance. That's my job. Why, you think we won't win?"

Barnes looks at him sideways, wondering how this walking paradox of a man can be so raw yet so confident. "No." He admits. "Loki called him 'the Mad Titan'. The wizard is scared."

Tony breaks a real smile for a moment. "Wizards. Yeah, well, Loki's scared of Gene, too. Giant pussy cat."

Barnes just shakes his head, turning away from the balcony. "How come you aren't scared?"

Tony is strutting off with his hands in his pockets when he shrugs, and Barnes can almost see the smile on his face. "Oh, honeybun. Don't you know? I'm the Merchant of Death."

When you get this, please respond with five things that make you happy. Then, send to the last ten people in your notification anonymously. You never know who might benefit from spreading positivity!

1.Bucky2.Tony3.Bujo4.Tech5.Fitness

I’m Bad At Love (But You Can’t Blame Me For Trying)

A WinterIron plot bunny idea I had and wanted to get out because I’ve seen Hanahaki Disease floating around my dash for a bit, and I couldn’t give up a good idea what I had it. I don’t feel like it’s a fully fleshed out enough fic to post on AO3, but I just like the concept. Bad At Love by Halsey inspired the title because fuck Halsey and her feels. (the aesthetic is mine)

Tony was four, the first time he caught Hanahaki. Four. And if that weren’t sad enough in concept, it was even worse knowing it was from his father.

Tony had just built his first circuit board. Worked on it for weeks, which to a four-year-old felt like a world of time and energy. But he’d finished it. And it worked. He’d shown Jarvis first, and the reaction from his caretaker had been one that lit up Tony’s world. Tony was sure, oh he was so sure, if Jarvis had loved it so much, his father would have at least liked it a little bit. Sure, he’d always been a bit distant with Tony, but Tony had worked so hard. He’d worked so hard.

But when his little hands thrust the circuit board toward his father, almost as if it were an offering, big brown eyes wide with hope, the only response he got was his father raising a hand to him, sending Tony and the circuit board down tumbling to the ground with one strike. It was then, lying on the ground at his father’s feet, Tony coughed up his first flower. He was too young to even understand what it was supposed to mean, he only knew that when his father crushed the flower with his foot as he walked away from Tony, Tony’s chest ached.

After that, Tony was conservative with his love. It took him even weeks to accept love from Jarvis, too afraid of being pushed away again. He eventually got over it, but he was still too skittish to love someone new, for the time being.

The first time it was a romantic love, was with Rhodey. Rhodey was amazing in every way, and Tony couldn’t help fall for him. And sure, Rhodey loved him back, he’d made that very clear, but the pinched look on his face the first time Tony coughed up flowers when Rhodey mentioned he was straight said it all. Platonic love wasn’t enough. At least, for Tony.

But Tony convinced Rhodey he’d be able to get over it, and he was, eventually. It took months, Tony even considered surgery, but eventually, he did really feel happy for Rhodey when he saw him with some girl and stopped coughing up those damned flowers.

At his parent’s funeral, someone had once asked Tony how he felt. His only response had been to stare at his mother’s gravestone with a heavy heart, then choke up a mouthful of flowers. It made sense, he guessed. She couldn’t love him if she was dead. There were good reasons Tony was an atheist. No one, not even his mother, could love him beyond the grave.

Tony wasn’t even surprised when it happened with Pepper. After Rhodey, Tony had given up on trying not to fall in love. Most of his crushes went as quick as they came, one of the main reasons they were never requited, Tony supposed. He was just bad at love. He couldn’t seem to make it last. Going back and forth between coughing up flowers and not; until Tony didn’t even bother paying attention to who was the cause. They wouldn’t matter in a few weeks.

But Pepper’s had lasted so achingly long. So long that Tony actually forced himself to go through with the surgery, only because he couldn’t handle the disapproving looks from Pepper every time he coughed up petals around her. It hurt, not only physically to have the flowers removed, but also emotionally. To have one of his most lasting loves ripped from his heart, just because he couldn’t contain himself.

He was just bad at love.

With Steve, it had been surprising. At least to Tony, anyway. Tony thought he hated Steve, detested every inch of his being. And Tony supposed he did, in some ways. But for reasons that couldn’t seem to stick. At least not the way his love did.

It had startled both of them when Tony started coughing up flowers when Steve had snapped out some insult at him. The look of disgust on Steve’s face somewhat reminded Tony of Howard’s reaction. It did, even more, when Steve stormed out of the room, crushing petals that had fallen to the ground with his step.

After Steve, Tony decided he would never fall in love again. It was a vain promise, sure, but Tony vowed to follow it, even if it led him to the grave. He didn’t want to ever have to deal with a mouthful of flowers again. To him, that’s all that love was.

Maybe that was the real reason it took him so long to realize he was in love with Bucky.

Sure, Tony hit it off with Bucky. More so than anyone had predicted they would, all things considered. The lingering touches, the flirtings, the inside jokes, the sweet laughter at two am.

Natasha was the person to bring it up to Tony.

“You’re in love with him, aren’t you?” She asked one night over coffee when it was much too late for either of them to be drinking coffee.

Tony glanced up. “Nat, I’ve been over Steve for almost a year now.”

She rolled her eyes. “Not Steve. Bucky.”

Tony frowned. “Haven’t been puking up any petunias lately, so nope, don’t think so.”

“You’d only have Hanahaki if it was unrequited, Tony.” She sipped her coffee.

“I-what?” Tony paused, staring at her. “I don’t-James doesn’t-”

“Tony.” Natasha cut him off. “You’re the only person in this Tower who calls him by his first name, and I’m positive he’d punch anyone else who tried. And same goes for him calling you Anthony. You look at him like he’s your moon, he looks at you like your his sun. It’s ridiculous how sappy you both are.”

Tony stared at her. “I don’t…”

“Hush.” Natasha flicked his head. “Ask him out for coffee sometime.”

“I can’t do that.” Tony stared at her with impossibly wide eyes.

“Why not?”

Tony blinked. He supposed she had a point. But grasping the idea that he had a crush on Bucky was… it felt impossible. Tony was so used to love and Hanahaki being bound together for him, one couldn’t exist without the other. The idea that he loved Bucky was barely overshadowed by the realization that Bucky loved him back.

Bucky loved him. Someone loved Tony. For once in Tony’s life, someone returned the affection he was so used to burning and withering away inside of him.

For that reason, Tony was terrified. Terrified he might get over this crush on Bucky as quickly as he had his previous crushes, and he’d leave Bucky just as hurt as others had left him. Tony couldn’t do that to someone else. He just couldn’t. Maybe Tony was bad at love, but he had to try.

“Okay. I’ll ask him out for coffee sometime.”

Actors are not yours.

I’ve seen a lot of bullshit going around in fandom, and I think it’s time that we cleared some things up. The touching without permission(!!!!!), the asking of inappropriate and uncomfortable questions - it’s wrong and it’s got to stop.

Imagine if you were at work and a customer who you didn’t know came up and touched your face while making a sexual innuendo. Imagine how embarrassed and violated you would feel. Now imagine that this happens on a regular basis, and you might have some idea how this behaviour impacts the people you’re accosting.

Actors at cons and press conferences are just trying to do their job, and while, granted, part of that job is to entertain, it is only within the confines of a film that has been written and directed (often) by someone else. Getting angry at them about their characters actions? Wrong. Touching them without their permission? Wrong (and I can’t believe I need to write this!!!). Asking them questions that make them feel uncomfortable and objectified? Wrong, wrong, a thousand times wrong!

Outside of their film, it is not their job to entertain you. It is certainly not their job to entertain your harassment, sexualisation and objectification. You do not have the right to touch them, to ask inappropriate and often sexual questions, or to get angry with them about their characters or their opinions of these characters. You do not have a right to these people and their bodies! 

Full stop, period, end of fucking discussion.

Bucky Barnes/James Barnes/The Winter Soldier imagines

Hi all! This is a pretty long list of possible situations for you and our darlin' Plum. Feel free to use them however, and if possible, tag me! I love reading Bucky x Reader (or Bucky x Tony, ikik..) and there's just never enough of it around.

I'm thinking about doing some of these so let me know if you're interested in reading one!

You are a consultant on cultural behavior, which means you detail the best appearance, attitude, and quirks for an undercover agent to have. Given your indepth knowledge, Fury assigns you the arduous task of bringing Steve Rogers and James Barnes up to speed on history post-1949.

You have known Tony for 15 years. You were born on August 1st, 1980, and attended Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. After the war, you found yourself numb and detached from life, with your only surviving close friends and family being Harry James Potter and Ron Weasley. After suffering through apathy and depression for five years, at the age of 23, you throw yourself through the Veil. Unsure if you will encounter a blissful void, screeching hellfire and your righteous maker, or some other world, you put all your belongings in an extended bag and welcome the final step. Funnily enough, you fell face-forward into a gutter. 15 years later, Tony calls on you to consult on the portals opening at random. Unsure what to expect, seeing as you are the last magical being on this earthly realm, you agree. What you find brings back memories of parseltongue, bloodquils, and man with 7 lives. Bucky x Reader.

Born into an impoverished family, Y/N Y/L/N is the last in a long line of witch-hunters. Your father was already well into his 60s when you were born, so when he passed, it was just your mother left to instill the family doctrine in you. Despite this all, you eventually turn to a life of normalcy, and become a historian specializing in occult artifacts (that's normal, right?). Stephen Strange is a close friend, and eventually asks you to help him in his research kickstarted by Jane Foster. You come into contact with all of the Avengers although you've barely held a conversation past "Hi, how ya doin'?". With Darcy as your new best friend, and her ridiculous affair with the God of Lies, you find yourself reciting the words your father had carved into his flesh. "For our King, our God, and the Righteousness of Divinity, may God have Mercy upon your Filthy Soul." Would be very interesting with a fictional twist on a religion or faith of your choosing. Bucky x Reader where eventually Reader is the only person in the tower/compound who can successfully defend herself against attacks by the supernatural without heavy firepower- Bucky being the exception of course. Horror!theme?

It had been a nice sunny day in Manhattan. You thought to yourself, "You know what, this is gelato weather. I deserve gelato." And instead you get shot by some asshole with a red star on his shirt, kidnapped by a blonde man with a shield, and then told it was your fault for telling the red star asshole to leave your landlord alone.

Peter thinks he's sly- that you don't know about his spandex-wearing cobwebby bullshit. Ha! You'd lived next door all your life. Your WINDOW faces his. Who does he think he's fooling? Doesn't matter, he got you into a Stark Expo VIP tour. But hey, that tall brooding dude looks like he needs a laugh. Wait, what do you mean you can't say "Who pissed in your cornflakes?" to the Winter Soldier? He's not the Winter Soldier, he- oh. Shit. Haaa..haha.. "PETER!!"

As Tony Stark's assistant, you've seen a lot of stuff. You've seen him butt naked, you've seen him so drunk he thought you were Rhodey (somehow), and you've even had your heart in his chest. You and he trust each other completely. One day, you get a call and it's a hospital in Y/Home/Town. They say your grandpa had a heart attack. And so you're on leave for 2 months making sure he's okay. Ol' Dirty Dugan doesn't go down easy. When you return, there is a strange split in the team. Tony spends even more time in his lab, he smells awful, and there's bags under his eyes. The team doesn't mention him and you notice they don't call him out for missions anymore. Wtf? After some digging you find out that Clint, Natasha, Steve, Sam, and Wanda are convinced Tony is a piece of shit. They think he's selfish, a coward, and a pervert, all because of misinformation and his public image. Hell fucking no. Thank god they thawed Barnes out, at least he isn't partaking in Bully-Tony-Tuesday. In fact.. he seems to be just as distant and despondent as Tony. You have a lot of work to do.

Bucky is your best friend. In the sense that, you don't have any real friends, and he doesn't let people close. But you bring him coffee, he shares his protein bars, and sometimes you two watch youtube together. Then one day an office clerk slaps your ass. What does Bucky do? He fractures the guys jaw.

"Happy Birthday to me. Happy birthday to me.. Happy Birthday, dear (Y/N), happy..birthday..to me.." Nobody remembered. Again. Your parents didn't call. Your sister didn't call. Your old friends didn't call. Nobody on the team said anything, but then again, they probably didn't know.. you are just a lab assistant anyway. Oh, well, Jarvis 2.0 did say Happy Birthday. That was nice. Bucky overheard Jarvis, though. So he goes out and buys some flowers, a bottle of sake, and a cheesecake. And then you cry and doesn't know why. Happy birthday to me. Oneshot. Fluffy angst.

They didn't know you were sick. None of them. You were conveniently out of town when the medical check ups took place, and never allowed the pain to show on your face. But one day at work you collapse, and they can't wake you up. Cho discovers you have kidney disease. You're dying and have been for a while. Tony pays top dollar for an immediate transplant, but it will still take a month or two. You used to have morning chats with Barnes after his run. You always were an early bird. But now he's on assignment somewhere secret, and you feel even more numb. Bucky couldn't handle the thought that you'd die (you won't but he doesn't know that), so he runs. He runs and immerses himself in a mission, believing you'd never feel the same way.

You came home and discovered your boyfriend of eight years in bed with a woman you'd never seen before. Turns out they'd been having a secret affair for nearly 5 years. You are arrested for punching him in the face- not that you remember, you blacked out in rage- and humourously enough, Barnes is the one who collects you from the station. It's okay, you hadn't been in love with Jerry for a long time, but it still hurt. So when you see Jerry with his 'side chick' three months later, you also discover Bucky had a sense of humour. Apparently you're now married to James Barnes, have been for a while, and are pregnant. Of course you're not but somehow Bucky knew just what to say and do to piss Jerry right off.

Fading (Part 3)

Summary: Bucky needs to forget for one night, while you come to a gripping realization.

Word Count: 1773

Warnings: angst, swearing, 1 tiny mention of cocaine (“the butterflies whipping around as if on cocaine,”), heavily implied smut, anxiety attack

A/N: Just a quick note; if you guys want to be tagged in anything, please send me asks instead of comments because asks are easier to keep up with :)

Part 1   Part 2

”That’s what it is Y/N! There’s always something wrong with you! You’re so goddamn clingy, will you just back the fuck off?!”

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