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softstarkbucks · 7 years

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I Read The Terms and Conditions for Unconditional Love Pt. 3

Read Part 1 and Part 2

Tony tried to focus, tried not to think about Bucky. Maybe it was the man that he had spoken through the wall to but given his luck, it was just as likely to be a fluke. A cruel joke the universe was playing on him. He sighed softly and kept working, admitting defeat. Maybe he could learn to be happy anyways. This was his life now, there was nothing he could do about it. There was no coming back, this was just where he was. It wasn't so bad, anyways. Pepper was nice to him, and he had a job that paid well enough for his rent. Not a lot besides that, but it was enough to have a roof over his head. And so far, no one from the papers had recognized him, or cared to write an article about him. That was a relief too, honestly.

Fuck-shit-fucking hell. Of all the people he had to see? Steve Rogers? Were the fates that cruel? The look he’d given Bucky had knotted itself into his core. He’d passed his sister, who he had only known as a toddler, the bag of books and her receipt, telling her the due date; not breathing until they were out of sight. The rest of the night was a blur, and his senses only seemed to come alive when he almost tripped on the stairs to his apartment. It gave him enough awareness to get inside and throw together dinner. Half-assed quesadillas. Dinner was an afterthought most days. Food had lost any fun when he’d moved out. He sat there, picking at his food, glancing over at the wall. Bucky guessed their apartments mirrored each other, meaning that his kitchen would be right on the other side. Maybe Tony would want to talk again. He wasn’t sure, perhaps it was only when Bucky was causing a ruckus. Part of him, a rather large part, was hoping he’d hear the soft, rhythmic tapping from the other side of the wall again tonight.

Tony got home a little after he did, only able to really breathe when he got inside and locked the door. Well, flipped and attached the multiple locks on the door. He looked around and geez, he did need to clean. There were wires everywhere and he knew it, but..it helped make him feel safer. More familiar. He went to the kitchen and looked around for some food, actually feeling hungry for once. He had a can of soup, so he started to heat that up. Tomato soup was fine, and there had to be some crackers somewhere. He glanced at the wall, wondering if he would hear from Bucky tonight. Tony fell quiet, hoping to hear him.

Bucky was restless, the silence of his apartment eating him inside out. He pushed his plate to the center and stood up suddenly, chair scratching on the floor. The sound killed his ears, but he wasn’t sure if he and Tony talked he’d be able to hear him. Someday, if they ever actually met, maybe they could text. That was Bucky’s favorite form of communication. Quick, readable, it worked especially well if he was nonverbal. “Hey.” He tapped against the wall, under his poster of Led Zeppelin. “You there Tony?” Was Bucky really this fucking weak that he couldn’t just walk over and knock on the door? His free hand began twitching nervously, fingers rubbing against each other, wrist twirling in circles. Tony most likely would be pissed, annoyed that the weird guy he’d talked through not breaking their wall last night was trying to talk to him again.

Tony looked up, hearing the tapping. He moved to the wall quickly, and tapped back. "I am. Hey, Bucky." He sighed softly, thankful that he wasn't completely alone. Even if they never saw each other face to face- Tony would be happy to talk like this all night. Just to have someone to talk to, it was wonderful. "How are you?" He asked, thinking that was a good way to start a conversation. It was nice to be able to talk, without thinking of a million things that could go wrong. Of course he was afraid of losing Bucky, but it seemed less likely this way. This method of communication seemed...safe. No voices, no face to face contact, and a wall between them.

"Okay." Bucky tapped out, smiling a bit. "What about you?" The fact that the other guy was content with this strange mode of communication made Bucky feel closer to him. He bet that St-other people wouldn't have done this for so long. Try to get him just to talk normal. He leaned against the wall, supporting himself as he untied his boots, leaving him in his socks. Before he let Tony respond, being the impulsive person he was, he tapped out another message. "I saw a cute guy at lunch today." Bucky didn't even know if Tony was into men, or into anyone at all, but the cashier had been named Tony...and the man seemed in need of a compliment, even if it was a shot in the dark.

Tony blushed, a little surprised. Well, Bucky probably thought he saw someone else. That was a nice clue, though. Bucky probably liked men. At least that was a good sign, even if he was with Sam. "So did I." He tapped back after a second. He walked over to the kitchen and poured the warm soup into a cup,then walked back to the wall. It would fill his stomach well enough to get some sleep, and he liked soup anyways. Tony thought for a moment, not able to come up with anything else to tap back. Hopefully Bucky wouldn't freak out, if he figured things out.

Even though he highly doubted it was about him, because when would a stranger find him attractive after hearing him speak? "Guess we both had a good day, huh?" He tapped. While the whole day had been less than stellar, possibly finding the friend he'd made through the wall softened the blow a bit. Before speaking anymore, he dragged a chair over and unzipped his bag, pulling out his laptop, open it to his newest document. He typed a few words, and then tapped out a message to Tony. “I’m a writer, what do you do?”

Tony smiled and listened to the tapping, then thought for a moment. What to tell him? He shrugged and tapped back. "I'm an inventor, and I make coffee." He didn't know how else to describe himself anymore, so it was mainly his best guess. Technically he still made inventions, though he couldn't make anything half as cool. At least he still had his robots and such. He used to be important but in a way, he didn't miss the attention. It was less stressful this way, less likely to trigger him again. That was a plus. Even if it meant struggling sometimes.

His neighbor was an inventor? And Bucky never knew? Bucky was living next to a who believed younger, hotter Doc Brown and he didn't know it? Well... fuck. It definitely seemed like this Tony was the Tony he'd met at the cafe. What a small freaking world, huh? He wished he could see him, though. They didn't have to talk. Just wanted to be able to wave. Put a face to the name. "That's awesome. Bet your apartment is full of your inventions, right?" Bucky looked around his apartment; dimly lit, decorated with photos, some family, most ones he'd taken while out and about, photography was a hobby of his, and books. So many books. He tripped over them if he wasn't careful. Most of the time he didn't mind being surrounded by the text, but Bucky wouldn't mind getting to the point where his house could feel like a home. "All I got over here is books, you'd think I bring the library home with me."

Tony shrugged a little, and looked around. He really needed to clean if Bucky was going to come over. People would probably think he was nuts. "Mainly wires and shit. Couple robots." He replied, figuring that would explain things. Tony had tried to make his house feel like a cocoon and if anyone tried to break in, they'd probably kill themselves tripping over everything. It made him feel a little bit safer, that was for sure. Still, Tony knew it wasn't normal to feel so..afraid, all of the time. He still did, though. "I understand what you mean." He finally tapped back. His home looked like he had ransacked an electronic store.

Bucky laughed, he bet it echoed through the room, probably through to Tony. He didn't feel the need to translate it through Morse code. "Guess we got a lot in common, huh? Two introverts with a penchant for hoarding?" Bucky hoped Tony wasn't the type to be offended over stuff like that. It was more of a defensive mechanism than anything else. Even if he truly liked those parts of himself, tearing them down seemed like the easiest way to get people to like him. Worked in school, and he got popular. Same in college, save Sam. It was just instinct to do the same as he tried to befriend Tony.

Tony smiled when he heard Bucky laugh. It was a good feeling, even if the cause had been a little self-deprecating. "Yeah, I guess so." He tapped back, chuckling softly. He thought for a moment, and looked around. Tony really wanted to talk to him more, but he was trying to find an excuse. Finally, he gave up and just decided to ask. "Do you want to text? My knuckles are getting sore." He hesitated, then tapped out his phone number. Hopefully Bucky would be willing. "If not, we can do this." He added quickly. He was worried, but feeling ready to take another step. Now he just had to locate his phone..the sound was probably on.

Bucky brightened at his offer. "Sure!" He said out loud before realizing his mistake and tapping it through. He grabbed his phone off the table and punched the numbers in, sending Tony a quick text, saying it was him. He smiled down at the screen, as if Tony would be able to see his expression. He put his laptop back on the table, leaning back in the chair, sliding his feet back and forth on the wood floor. It felt nice. Bucky also stuck his headphones on, plugging them in to the phone, playing some soft rock. As he waited for a response, he absently started chewing on his sleeve, not stopping himself this time because there was no one there to judge him. He let his legs bounce too. It was his own house, goddammit. He should let himself relax here.

Tony looked around, hearing the ding. Eventually he found it under a little stack of CDs. There was a crash, then Tony got his phone and texted back quickly, "Hey!" He smiled, waiting eagerly for a response. His dinner had been pretty much forgotten, he was so looking forward to talking to Bucky. All he wanted was a friend, and now he had found one, it seemed. Sure, it seemed like Bucky was having a hard time, but..so was he. Tony was in no position to judge, and he didn't really mind. Bucky deserved to be happy, no matter what that looked like.

"So I had a run in with an old friend today. Holy fuck, can that man be stubborn." Bucky texted back, flipping through his playlist, landing on a calm Bob Dylan song before going to the conversation again. He wasn't sure if this was proper talk, but he felt a trust, a safety with Tony. Wasn't exactly sure why, and didn't know if it would dissuade him from being friends, but Bucky only began worrying about that after he pressed send. "I don't have to talk about it though. Haha. Not great at small talk, sorry about that." Hadn't even crossed his mind. Talking to Tony was just as easy as Sam. Maybe it was the anonymity. He hadn't had to deal with the baggage that came with the suppressed emotion Bucky had bottled up after Steve and him broke apart. Maybe it was the context in which they'd became maybe-friends.

Tony thought for a moment. "You can talk about it if you want. What happened?" He asked, concerned. Was that the guy he was with at lunch? At least Bucky wasn't talking about him like a boyfriend. That made Tony feel a little better, like maybe he'd have a chance one day. "Well, if you want anyways. I won't make you." He added, not wanting to force Bucky to do anything.

Tony wasn't so sure what Bucky was like, since he had only talked to him once- pretty briefly. He wasn't even sure Bucky had recognized him as the guy in the coffee shop yet. He probably had, but Tony wasn't ready to confront him with the idea yet. Maybe they'd run into each other again, and then they could talk. Tony knew he was handsome- God he was so handsome, and had something that made him need to stim, but that was really all. Except that he had a gorgeous smile, one that he wanted to see more often.

"Just an old friend. Yknow, the old used and abused and thrown away story." That was an over simplification of the story, but he figured Tony would rather hear it in person. And it was one of the few things he preferred to explain verbally. "We were best friends growing up, went through puberty and shit together, kissed a little, and it turned bad there. We don't talk anymore." Bucky actually hesitated before sending it. "Still don't know what I did, though. He's too much of a stuck up ass for me to really care anymore." After adding that bit, he hit send, sighing long and slow. Wasn't everyday he let this out. Not that it was anything to be ashamed of. It just sounded bizarre. Your best friend was also your first love and then your biggest hater.

Tony frowned a little, thinking of a response to that. He understood that story, for sure. "Yeah, I understand. Sounds like a shitty friend, though. Not that I can judge." Tony didn't have great friends either, at least he didn't use to. Apparently he had terrible judgment. Maybe Bucky would be different, or he would be more proof that Tony wasn't a person who could have friends. Or maybe he would be wrong, and Bucky would be a friend to him. Or maybe more, if he was especially lucky. It was a stupid dream, but one that Tony enjoyed nonetheless. Someone just to hug, or hold hands with, or watch a movie with. Anything. Any contact would be nice, honestly.

Judge away, Bucky thought, before looking down at his phone again. He'd gotten up, antsy in his seat, and was pacing the floor, headphones now hanging around his neck. "Would you ever want to meet me? In person?" His fingers hesitated over the send button for what seemed to be an eternity. They'd only just now switched from Morse code to texting, Bucky wasn't sure if Tony was ready to see him face to face. The guy seemed to have something in his life that prohibited him from normal social interactions, much like himself. But, they couldn't hide from each other forever. Closing his eyes, as if that'd defend him from doom, Bucky tapped the send button and waited for the worst.

Tony looked at his phone, a little surprised. "Yeah, if you want, I'd like that. We could meet at the cafe tomorrow? Or..you could come over?" He texted back, looking around. "I have tomato soup." He looked around. Tony's home sort of screamed paranoid, depressed..but maybe Bucky wouldn't judge him too much. Maybe. His house wasn't great...but it was a house. There were a million locks, at least. Something to keep people out when he didn't want them inside. Even the landlord couldn't get in anymore, much to his chagrin. But he could let Bucky in, right? Yeah, it would probably be fine. Bucky wouldn't hurt him. It wasn't like they had planted anyone. They wouldn't go that far now.

#winteriron #starkbucks #tony stark #bucky barnes #idk what else to tag #i'm tired

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softstarkbucks · 7 years

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Mod Intro 2

Hey guys, gals, and non-binary pals,

I’m @renderinglifeslowly and I write for our friendly neighborhood Tony Stark. I’m a college student and fairly busy, but I try to post as often as I possibly can. If you have any questions, you can always ask me. I’ve been writing for Tony for about...three years, I’d guess, and I’ve always enjoyed it. Other than that, I hope you have a great day and like I said before, my ask box is open as well as my message box, if you’re interested in getting to know me better.

Thanks!

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softstarkbucks · 7 years

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Mod Intro

Hey there!

so, on this blog I write as Bucky Barnes/The Winter Soldier.

my personal url is @acebuckybarnes

the ask box is open and if anyone needs to chat, feel free to send me a message

I do struggle with SPD and stim, so when I write those things at Bucky, they are loosely based on experience. If there is something I’m doing that you need tagged, just ask

and that’s it i guess

-Mod Bucky

#mod intros #bucky

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softstarkbucks · 7 years

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I Read the Terms and Conditions for Unconditional Love Pt. 2

Pt. 2! Read Part 1 here

Tony didn't say much when he got to work, putting a black apron on and pinning the badge that read 'Tony' onto the apron. Pepper looked at him with a worried expression, but she didn't bother him. She was his boss, but they were also friends, and she worried about him. Whether he realized it or not. She knew he didn't sleep much, and it definitely seemed like he hadn't been eating a whole lot either, lately. Tony spent his morning cleaning and rearranging the syrups, making everything neat. Once customers started coming in, he quietly kept an eye out for any named Bucky. It had to be a distinctive name. Or something starting with Ja, for that matter. Tony wasn't brave enough to start a conversation, but he wanted to know what Bucky looked like. If he was handsome, maybe if he was interested in other men. Not that anyone would want to date him, but it was a nice thought. It was a sad statement that so little human contact already had him suckered in...but he was lonely. Anyone talking to him past pleasantries was a big deal.

Bucky spent his morning stacking books and alternating between silence and folk music, he didn't have to work the front desk 'till after lunch, 'till closing. Bucky let himself relish the soft quiet of the back shelves long as he could. The smell of libraries was something he'd always found comforting. When Bucky was little, his mom would bring him here, read him stories, then listen to him stumble through a couple. They'd take out stacks and stacks of books, Bucky much rather ripping through those than playing at recess. Sure, he'd get wrangled into a football game once in a while, but there was always a doggy eared book sitting at the edge of the field. Right as he was finishing the middle grade fantasy section, there was a light tap on his shoulder. He looked over, his friend Sam standing beside him. He took his earbuds out and raised his eyebrows. "What's up?" Sam usually didn't come to the library 'till closing, when they went out to dinner, at Sam's insistence, and rented a redbox, or played some Xbox. They'd met in college, dated a little, but then realized that they were more friends. Really good friends. Sam was dating some nice guy but still made sure to keep Bucky in his circle. It never seemed to be out of pity either; Sam seemed to genuinely like hanging out with him. It was nice. And new. "Wanna grab some lunch? Sharon said she'd give you a longer break if you stay after closing to catalog." Bucky snorted. Sharon was a good boss, but it was rare that she made changes to the schedule. "I wonder why," He muttered. "But I'll take it. Where were you thinking?" Sam shrugged. "That cafe couple blocks over? Heard they have good pastries." Bucky nodded, and Sam gave him a thumbs up, their little 'okay' sign, and began to lead the way out to the street. With Sam's back to him, Bucky took the oppurtunity to put his earplugs in. Even though he'd had them awhile now, Bucky still was conscious of them; if his voice was too loud or soft, mumbled or stuttering; if people saw them and thought he either didn't want to hear them or belonged in the looney bin. Sam knew, but Bucky had made the excuse that they were for concerts. He doubted he'd care, but sometimes Bucky rather keep things to himself rather than face the questioning.

Tony's morning was mainly comprised of making small talk and complicated lattes. By the time afternoon rolled around, there was a slight lull so Pepper made him have a leftover breakfast sandwich. He was still behind the counter working, just eating a little something. It wasn't an easy job for him, but he managed. Sometimes by the time he got home, the paranoia was almost too intense- but he managed. Normally by the time he got home, he just planned on drowning himself in his work. Today wasn't too bad though, they had been quiet and fairly calm, only a few customers. Not so great for Pepper, but alright for him. He just hoped it wasn't his fault that she was losing business.

Bucky and Sam got to the cafe and stepped inside, a wave of AC hitting their faces. It was sickening and lovely at the same time, as were most things in Bucky's life. "I'll go find us a seat," Sam said, giving Bucky a smirk. "I'll have a BLT with chicken." Sometimes, he really, really hated that Sam Wilson had majored in Pysch. Always pushing him out of his comfort zone, making him talk to people, go to the store and ask a question rather than just look it up, a real pain in the ass. Even if it had been helping him, though he'd never, ever admit that to Sam. Bucky stepped into line, which was only one other person and glanced up at the menu. He really didn't feel like eating, but it was lunch, so he guessed he oughta. There was a wrap that didn't look too bad; lettuce, cheese, some veggies, he could pick at that. Sooner than he would have liked, he was up at the cashier; a shorter guy named Tony. Wait. Tony, Tony, Tony. Nah, it was a common enough name, and he lived in a busy enough place. If it was the same guy who'd calmed him through morse code last night, he would actually believe in love again. Not that it was love. Wait, what was Bucky even thinking? Fuck if he knew. "Uh," He said, digging his voice out of the grave. "Hey? Can I have- please have a BLT with chicken, and, um, a Greek wrap? And, like, two fountain drinks?" Bucky forced a smile, trying to seem polite and casual, but if this Tony couldn't see that he was jumping out of his skin, he was blind.

Tony smiled a bit, sensing his discomfort. "Sure," He said, careful not to talk too loudly. "Could I have a name for the order?" This man was handsome, probably his best looking customer of the day. He started to put together his order, imagination running wild. Maybe this was the man he was looking for, though it seemed unlikely. "Oh, did you want the Greek sauce on the wrap, or no? I'm sorry." He had almost forgotten to ask. It was standard, but he always asked. It didn't help that he was feeling nervous around this new, attractive stranger. It was a little bit of everything and he was trying not to freak /him/ out anymore either. God, everything was so complicated. Ugh. "S-sorry."

"Uh, on the side's okay." Bucky mumbled, fishing out his wallet. "And s'Bucky." If the man could understand him well enough to not ask for a repeat, Bucky might damn well kiss him. It was a bit comforting to know that he wasn't the only one who stumbled over his words sometimes. He felt like the rest of the world was so smooth spoken, just wanting for him to catch the fuck up already. Leaning over the counter, he stuck his card into the chip reader, and signed off on the twenty five dollar order. He looked up at the cashier and half smiled, waiting for the receipt and soda fountain cups. "T-thanks."

Tony looked up at him, holding the cup. He just stared for a second. Bucky. This guy's name was Bucky. What were the odds of that? It was certainly the right neighborhood. Maybe it was him. "Uh, I- did you say your name was Bucky? I..nevermind. Here, uh, here's your drinks." He smiled a little, and gave him the little tray of food as well. "Have a good day." He remembered, then moved to do something, /anything/ except look at Bucky right now. Oh, God. It had to be him. It wasn't like that was a common name of anyone, really.

Bucky raised his eyebrows at the question, but didn't go to answer it when the cashier handed him his things and smiled. "You too." He said back, reminding himself that that was something people said. He walked back to the table Sam had chose and set the tray down, picking up his plate and handing Sam his before sticking the tray on top of a trash can. Before he took a bite, he looked at Sam, raising a shoulder towards the counter. "Do you know that guy? The one working the register?" Sam turned discretely and gave Tony a quick once over. "No, don't think so, should I?" Bucky swallowed the bite of wrap he'd taken. "I don't think so, he just acted funny when I said my name, y'know, for the order. I mean, there was this guy-" Bucky stopped himself before going any further. Even Sam didn't know about how he acted when he was alone. So far, it was just his neighbor. "Nevermind." But the mention of a guy had piqued Sam's interest. "A guy? Buck, that's great man!" Sam would sure think it's great if he heard that they were talking through morse code at two in the morning after Bucky had a freakout. "How is he?" Sam asked. Good, he wanted to say, he's fine, but suddenly even those three words were very, very hard for Bucky.

Tony watched him go for a second, then glanced to his friend. Guy friend. They seemed to be talking, seemed..pretty happy. Maybe they were dating. It seemed to be all in vain. Bucky was probably already taken. He sighed a little and started to clean the counter, even though it was already clean. Tony had to keep busy. Some things made him feel better. This didn't, but at least it kept his eyes off of Bucky. It had to be him, the man he talked to last night. He felt his friend's gaze on him, and Tony felt himself shrink in on himself. He really didn't feel comfortable anymore, all Tony wanted to do was leave, but Pepper was depending on him today. Nobody else was in or was able to take over his shift. They wouldn't be in here forever, maybe thirty minutes at the most. He could last, it would be fine. Ugh, if only they were busier. Things would be easier then. He could pretend he didn't even see them, and stay busy.

Bucky and Sam finished their lunch, and then decided to use the rest of their time to catch up. The silence of eating had allowed Bucky to recuperate a bit, and was ready for conversation when Sam had come back from tossing his plate. They'd started with small talk, but quickly it veered off into a discussion about Renaissance; one of Bucky

Bucky's favorite topics, and Sam's too. They'd met each other in an art class that covered everything from Classical to Baroque. "It just bothers me, y'know? How people try and erase critical parts of these people's identities!" His hands waved around, flapping a bit. "If they were queer, historians erase it! And if they were mentally ill? Forget it! People honestly believe that Leonardo Da Vinci made the work that he did 'cause he was so depressed! And-and, if he had been on meds, we never would'a gotten Starry Night!" Sam nodded, letting him finish, before gesturing with his hand near the table top. /Settle down./ That was by far Bucky's least favorite thing to hear. 'Cause he never realized he was too loud or taking up too much space with his movements 'till someone told him it was too much. When he was happy, he was too much. Bucky dropped his hands and nodded, still fidgeting them under the table, like their were electric sparks he had to release. "Y'know?" He said, barely above a whisper. Sam responded, agreeing with him, and adding another fact that he'd picked up in the paper; but Bucky was biting his lip. He'd fucked up, hadn't he?

Tony watched, frowning slightly. He couldn't stand by. Whether this was the same Bucky or not, his friend didn't understand. He walked over to the table, with a nice little pastry in hand. Pepper could take it out of his paycheck, she would understand. "Uh, excuse me." He said, looking at them both. "I thought one of you might like this, and I wanted to let you know that you weren't doing anything wrong." He looked at Bucky. "It's fine to stim here if you need to, the owner understands." He had a panic attack here once, and Pepper had understood. He knew she wouldn't mind. "We..we want our cafe to be a community space, and that includes everyone." He smiled a little bit at Bucky, and looked down. "Anyways. I'm sorry to interrupt." He didn't like Sam, partially because he was jealous, but also because this guy seemed like he deserved to be happy. If Tony could help with that, geez...he'd do anything. Pepper looked at him, not upset- mostly surprised when he came back to the counter. "That was brave, Tony." She said, quietly. Tony shrugged and shook his head. "Not really. Just remember to take the raspberry tart out of my pay, please." He said, not wanting to feel like he had taken anything. She had already given him so much, he didn't want to take advantage of her kindness.

Bucky only managed a quick glance up at the man, Tony. Still Tony. Tony, Tony, Tony. He swore the name was like a song in itself. Up-down, up-down. He looked down again, not in the mood to test his boundaries and thank the man himself; Sam could cut him some slack this time around, right? He did, the great guy, and thanked Tony for the pastry. “See?” He said quietly, edging Bucky’s gaze up with his voice. “S’okay, nobody cares.” The reason he’d told him to settle down in the first place was all Bucky’s own fault; he’d told Sam to tell him when he acted weird. Sam really hadn’t wanted to, ‘cause he thought Bucky was fine just how he is, but when some jerk muttered something rude under their breath, he’d changed his tune. Sam had always wanted to be his friend, not his therapist, and neither of them really knew how to go about this. Bucky shook his head, rubbing his thumb in a circle over the glossy tabletop. “Yeah, sure.” He mumbled, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth. “C’mon, Buck,” Sam said, “Least we got a tart out of it, right?” Bucky snort, and sat up a little straighter. “You know me, Sam.” He met his best friend’s eyes. “If it means we get free food, I’ll be a fool in public all you want.” Still refusing to approve of himself, Bucky edged towards self-deprecating humor instead. Made other people laugh, and lightened the mood; made him seem more like a joke than a person, but it was easier that way.

Tony stood quietly for a moment, taking a few deep breaths. Okay, that had been harder than he would admit. Still, it was fine. After a moment, he recovered and a customer walked in, so he put on a small smile and took their order. It would be fine. Freaking out was for being at home. He made the latte with precision, drowning himself in the work. He was a good barista, able to keep track of everything surprisingly well. Maybe he'd learned something, after all those years in his lab. Now all he had was this space, but it was at least a place where he knew where everything was and how it worked. The drink was ready in just about a minute and a half, and Tony gave it to them still wearing a small smile. "Three o' eight." He said, politely.

Their extended lunch hour soon came to an end, and Sam and Bucky both needed to get back to work. They rose, hugged quickly, and parted ways on the sidewalk. Now, the rest of the afternoon would be spent checking books out for harried college students and little kids who were just starting to read Henry and Mudge. He set himself up at the front desk, a deep mahogany beast of wood and felt accents, his printed draft off to the side, laptop charging, cord sticking out of his bag. A young girl, about twelve or so with a shock of blond hair came up to the desk, hefting a stack of books almost taller than her. Bucky laughed softly, and leaned over to help her. “You got a lotta good books here,” He said, smiling at her. She had a sparkly ‘A+ Reader!’ sticker on her dress. “Yeah, I really like reading. Do you?” Bucky began checking them out, keeping an eye out for a bag he could put the books in. “Yeah, ” He said after scanning her card, “When I was your age, I was into Lord of the Rings, have you-” Suddenly his back stiffened and a lump the size of Texas formed in his throat. As her name appeared on the screen, Eliza /Eliza, Eliza, Eliza/, Eliza Rogers, a sickeningly familiar set of footsteps walked up behind her. Her brother. Steve.

#pt 2 #bucky/tony #tony/bucky #bucky barnes #tony stark #winteriron #starkbucks #rp #roleplay

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softstarkbucks · 7 years

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This url

Is adorable and nothing will change my mind about it.

#:) :)#glad you like it

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softstarkbucks · 7 years

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I Read the Terms and Conditions for Unconditional Love Pt. 1

A Tony/Bucky roleplay. Bucky is written by @acebuckybarnes and Tony is written by the lovely @renderinglifeslowly

Bucky didn’t want anyone to see him like this. Ever. He was sitting on the floor, stuck between the wall and his bed, knees to his chest. It was fucking embarrassing. His eyes were thick with tears and the pain pulsing through his skull was painful. Bucky worried the cuff of his sweatshirt between his teeth, a habit he’d been doing all too much. He’d have to find an alternate, ‘cause all his shirt sleeves were getting warped and hole-ridden. With his free hand, he splayed his fingers out and let them twitch and flail by his bent legs. Without even meaning to, he tilted his head back and began tapping it on the wall, the strength of each hit increasing, Bucky only stopping when he the pain spiraling at the base of his skull became worse than the static hell running under his skin. He dumped his head onto the mattress, shutting his eyes, letting the tears fall from his eyes.

Tony jumped when he heard the noise, shaking a moment from the surprised. Jesus, neighbors were supposed to knock, but not on the wall. He frowned, thinking. It wasn't like he had been sleeping anyways. Gotten close, but that was gone for a few more hours anyways. He sat up on his bed and knelt there against the wall, plaid pajama pants hanging loosely. After another moment of hesitation, he knocked back lightly in Morse Code. "Hello." He tapped first, then thought. Whatever the guy had tapped before, it hadn't meant anything- but maybe he understood code. It was a long shot, but at least he wouldn't be quite so alone. Tony was pathetic, and he knew that. Alone in a den of wires and robots that barely worked- but he was trying. Putting himself out there, even if he technically wasn't.

Bucky stiffened at the soft, soft compared to his, knocking. It was in a pattern that he was able to put together as Morse code. Someone had apparently heard him. That enough made him want to either a- hide under the blankets indefinitely or b- move out of the apartment within the next fifteen minutes. Neither was feasible in his current shaken condition. So, he raised a shaky hand, one still had it's sleeve balled in his mouth and replied with a weak "Hello." Bucky doubted if the person on the other side had even meant to knock on the wall. They could've just hit it in the dark. Or, more likely, he'd woken them, and now they wanted him to quiet the hell down. He knew it was gonna be rough when he finally got his own place, had almost convinced himself that with adulthood all his 'freak' traits would bury themselves. At 22, he didn't know anyone as fucking off as himself.

Tony heard his reply, ear pressed to the wall. He could feel the vibrations from the knocking to his very soul. Thinking for a moment, he started to knock again. "Tony. You?" He asked, not sure what the person next door was even like. Definitely a little oblivious about neighbors, but that was forgivable. At least in his book. It wasn't like Tony didn't have his flaws. He always forgot some of his laundry in the laundry room, and sometimes he would drop things that were really heavy on the floor. He sighed and listened for a reply, looking at his other hand. He was shaking a little, but not as badly as he had been earlier. Maybe after he was finished talking, he would go make himself some tea. Maybe he'd actually get some sleep tonight. Unlikely, but a nice thought.

Tony. Tony, Tony, Tony. A name. Huh. Bucky let it roll around his head for a minute, mouthing it silently to himself. "J-a," He started, but then decided against it. Only his ma and his boss called him James. "I'm Bucky." He said instead. The strange wall to wall conversation had given him something to do, and his body had begun to relax. His shoulders weren't as hitched, and his heart didn't hurt anymore. Bucky scooted around, so that he was facing the blue wall, leaning his head, hood pulled up, on it. He raised his fist again, hesitating for a moment. "Did I wake you? Sorry."

Tony smiled a little. Bucky...a nickname. It was cute. Obviously had a story behind it, probably a good one. "No. Wasn't sleeping anyways." He knocked back, finding himself a little less afraid. Being alone was always difficult for him. He should have had a roommate..he just wasn't brave enough to find someone who could deal with his issues. He was already disgraced, it wasn't like he needed to add anything else. Tony Stark. Failure, kicked out of his own business, kidnapped. Not someone people wanted to hire or even be around. No, no roommate. Tony knew he had to be alone. But now, talking to this 'Bucky'...it wasn't quite so bad. The tight feeling around his heart had loosened slightly.

"Okay." Bucky quickly tapped back, feeling rather relieved. "Was I annoying you then?" He figured it must be that, if it hadn't been the former reason. "I'm sorry, I was just-" Bucky paused, he wasn't sure how to explain his...brain. He could barely do it when he was verbal, nevermind through morse-fucking-code. "Upset." He decided. It was vague enough that Tony would think it odd but it also explained his thrashing. Bucky had to come up with something healthier to do when he felt like this. He hadn't told his doctor, hell, or even his family; it'd come out during high school, and he'd hidden it after being dismissed countless times. It had just become a part of life. A part he had to bury 9 to 5, but a part nonetheless.

Tony shook his head then chuckled softly, realizing that Bucky obviously couldn't see him. Upset. Well, Tony understood that. "No, no." He tapped back. He thought for a second, then added onto that. "I was upset too." He knew that Bucky would understand that in a way. If he was knocking against the wall, it was probably a comfort thing. Tony understood that. He slept with the light on, with the radio on. Couldn't stand to have water on him any longer than necessary. His coping mechanisms usually involved dissolving into panic and hiding anywhere he could, turning into a fricking mess. Nothing that he really wanted to do in public. Upset wasn't the best way to describe it, but ti was a normal sounding word- and normal was nice. Tony thought for a moment, and tapped once more. "You're not the only one up late." It was oddly honest and Bucky would probably think it was stupid, but Tony was trying at least.

It didn't seem like Bucky had been the cause of Tony's distress, which made him feel a bit better, but he felt a tug of sympathy for the other man. Night was supposed to be a time of calm, peace, as spa's advertised, rest n' relaxation. But, it seemed that neither of them were being afforded that luxury. Bucky stuck a hand up on his side table and grabbed the plastic loop-thing his sister had got him. Called it a tangle. It worked well enough to keep his hands busy, and if he was feeling self destructive, he could pull that apart instead of picking at himself. "Guess we should make a club." Bucky tapped back, hoping Tony understood the sarcasm he meant the response with. Bucky wasn't always great at conveying stuff like that, and he didn't think Morse code was the best platform for humor. But, talking with the man on the other side of the wall was oddly comforting, and Bucky wanted to keep it up.

Tony couldn't help it, he laughed a little. It was true. They probably could start ac club. He sat up a little more and looked around. "Getting tea. Be back." He normally would have coffee, but he was pretty tired. It had been at least a day since he last slept, and he had work in the morning. It only took him a minute or two to make his tea, making it with warm milk like the British. It was the best way, in his mind. Once he returned, he sat back down on the bed and tapped, "Back. Age?"

"22." He tapped back, hoping he was remembering all his Morse code right. Bucky had learned it as a passion project in college and hadn't used it since. "You?" As bad as it sounded, Bucky had no idea what Tony looked like, even though they were next door neighbors. He spent his days working at the library. Quiet job, dim lights, it couldn't be better for him. He loved books and writing, able to read and create all those things he himself backed away from. Wasn't that he never left the house...it just took Sam a helluva struggle to bring him even out to a club. Maybe someday he'd be able to fix himself and be able to do those normal people things.

Tony thought for a second. Bucky was a a little younger than him, but it probably wouldn't be a big deal. Hopefully. "28." He tapped back, thinking. He wasn't sure what else to talk to about Bucky. It wasn't as though he got out much besides work. He knew how to make small talk, with all the people who came into the cafe. That was about as far as his social skills extended nowdays, though. Most people just weren't worth talking to, no one wanted to get to know him better. It was nice, talking to Bucky between the wall. He didn't seem to know who he was. That was nice. "Will you be okay?" He asked, finally. It was late..he did need to attempt to sleep soon. Still, he wanted to make sure that his newfound and possible friend would be alright. Despite reports, he wasn't the type of guy to just abandon his friends.

Bucky nodded, stopping when he realized that he was alone in his room. Sitting on floor, tapping morse code to his next door neighbor. "Yeah." He tapped. Maybe Tony would want to meet in person sometime. It was doubtful, considering his introduction to Bucky was him bashing his head into the wall. "Thank you." As terrible as it sounded, Bucky had no idea what Tony looked like. He wasn't the most observant these days, shuffling between work, home, and sometimes Sam's. "Are you going to be okay?" He asked in return. Tony had said he was upset as well.

Tony listened, and thought for a moment. Yeah, he would probably be alright. "I'll be alright." He confirmed, tapping slowly. "Talk tomorrow?" He asked finally, deciding that he'd like to be in contact with this man. Maybe one day, he could talk with him face to face. Not yet, though. He wanted to be able to trust Bucky implicitly before that happened. He didn't have many friends left, only Rhodey, but he was usually off elsewhere. It was basically just him and his robots. Having a new friend would be really..nice. "Goodnight, Bucky." He tapped out once more, before he moved into bed. He was still hoping to hear a soft response, though.

"Goodnight, Tony." Bucky tapped back, before pulling himself to his feet and pulling the covers off his bed, diving inside. He pulled the comforter over his head and sighed. Who would'a thought they'd both be up at the same time in the middle of the night? It was a pleasant surprise, and Bucky appreciated the nonverbal contact. Sometimes, talking took too much work. No one ever understood that! Bucky could speak, he wasn't unable to, but sometimes he just wanted to be quiet. Lean into someone and observe. Let their heartbeat center him, their sturdiness stabilize his harried soul. Bucky shut his eyes and tried to drift off.

It took him some time to fall asleep, but eventually Tony did. It wasn't a restful sleep, but it was something, and he woke up around eight thirty. Seven hours was good for him. He got up and found some old coffee and finished that, then got some real clothes on, and went to work. His boss, Pepper, would worry about him again if he hadn't put makeup on, but it would be fine. She wasn't going to be mad at him, probably. He only worked for a coffee shop.

#tony stark #bucky barnes #starkbucks #tony/bucky #mcu #au #rp #roleplay #marvel #neurodivergences #nd #stimming #stim #ptsd #Dum-E

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