Summary: Bucky contemplates what he wants for his future.Ā
Warnings: fluff, maybe itās kinda angsty.Ā
Characters: Bucky Barnes.Ā
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x future someone.
Notes: I heard Dear No One by Tori Kelly, once Iād stopped crying this fic happened.Ā
Betas: @pinknerdpandaā took a look but I own all the mistakes.Ā
Master Lists: Marvel // Bucky Barnes
Bucky liked being independent. Having no one to answer to was a new thing for him and he enjoyed the freedom of it. He didnāt need to invest any time or entertain anybody else. The only energy he was required to exert was toward his ongoing recovery and for the first time, in well, ever, he felt like a human and not a machine.
But being a man, and not machine, came with emotions. Emotions he never expected to feel again, not after Hydra, not after all heād done.
Sitting on the dock watching the sunset, he looked over his shoulder at the party-goers. The party was in full swing, no signs of stopping and he hoped it never did, the smiles, laughter, and pure joy of the event was infectious and he couldnāt stop his own smile from spreading like wildfire on his face. All the people he could see had suffered hardships, loss, and grief, but they all survived. They were all still able to find the good in life and it gave him a sense of hope.Ā
Hope that someday, heād get what he wanted and dare he think it, what he deserved. To be happy. He wanted someone beside him, to share his hopes with, someone he could pull close and watch the sky fade from blue to orange to pink, someone to give his jacket to when the heat from the setting sun disappeared and they got cold. He wanted that young, teenage lustful, passionate, canāt get enough of each other kind of love, even when they were old. He was already old, he knew that, but growing old with someone was different than just simply ageing.
He didnāt like big crowds, and he had a tendency to shut people out. He liked his own space, but having a person who understood all that heād done and loved him regardless, someone who didnāt judge, someone who wanted to be with him because of who he was as a man not what he was capable of, was a space heād be willing to share.
He pulled his notebook from the inside pocket of his jacket and the small pencil he kept for moments of inspiration and thoughts he didnāt want to forget. He flicked to a fresh page and wroteā¦
romaincrisis
izzy806
dailybridgerton
germansingergirl
jacobvanloon
tangentwithtanner
kaledo-art
gummygunk
