#im just imagining him playing this and mouthing the lyrics 'forgive me' over and over whenever they come up. and then immediately

[starry-bi-sky]

a Single(1) miscellaneous danyal al ghul thing:

Sam and Tucker gave Danny the song "Just a Man" from the musical Epic as a song recommendation because one of them heard it somewhere (probably tiktok) and wanted to share it with him.

Danny then proceeded to listen to that song and only that song for an entire week. Sam and Tucker were not expecting him to like it so much. (Danny was not expecting to resonate with it so much. They gave him the emotional equivalent of a punch to the gut and didn't even realize.)

miscellaneous danyal al ghul things

specifically about the danyal al ghul from my post/prompt here and i wanna get my misc. headcanons/thoughts on him (especially in his early stay with the fentons) out here before i make any other danyal al ghul aus

list under the cut because whoops this got longer than i expected. which really i should have expected

the Fentons are unaffiliated with the League, which was perfect for Danny faking his death.

he struggles with empathy. Empathy was not taught nor encouraged while he was with the League, so it's a skill that's been pretty stunted. At 15 he's better at empathizing with people, but he still struggles with it. He's pretty bad at reassuring/comforting people and usually acts as an emotional rubber duck for Sam and Tucker to vent to if need be. He sometimes offers blunt and sometimes mean opinions, especially if its about another person.

Sam and Tucker do not know he's an ex-assassin, they are however, pretty positive that he used to be part of an eco-fascist cult with a focus on martial arts?? They've been helping him tone down some of his more,,, extreme views on humanity ever since they caught wind of his more extreme ideologies.

He and Sam are still avid environmentalists and feed into each other quite a bit. They spend plenty of time at protests and pestering the school into more eco-friendly options.

Dash is not dead on the sole fact that Danny knew he had to lay low in Amity Park and killing someone was not, in fact, 'laying low'.

he did, however, traumatize him when Dash first tried to bully him. Safe to say, Danny is not bullied at school and neither are Sam and Tucker.

Danny didn't make any friends in his first year at Amity Park. He was surly, grumpy, standoffish, more stubborn than Sam, and pretty self-important about himself. Jazz was trying to teach him against these things, but she is a 12 year old unaffiliated with the League. Danny did not respect her nor listen to a word she said. It wasn't until like, year two that he finally started paying to mind what she was saying and slowly started to improve on himself

Sam approached him first, he rebuffed her quite harshly, and then Danny approached her sometime afterward when he overheard her talking about environmental rights. Sam completely ignored him though when he agreed with her, and Danny had to later learn that he needed to apologize for being rude to her when they first met. He did so eventually, and they started to talk more with Tucker and Sam.

Danny's a bit more reserved than he is in canon, although he steadily learns how to act as a regular teenager when he's out in public. He's a bit more friendlier at least, although when he's around Sam and Tucker he drops the act. He still has a somewhat formal way of talking, it's just become more casual after a lot of ribbing from Sam and Tucker. When he's angry or annoyed he starts talking poshly though.

His humor is relatively the same as in canon, if somehow dryer and more insulting at some points

Those rare moments where he gets really pissed usually ends up with him insulting someone in arabic or any of the other languages he picked up from the league. He is the go-to for Tucker's Spanish homework. (Tucker makes that mistake and learns that Danny is a very strict teacher)

while Danny doesn't view the Fentons as his parents, even five years after living with them, he does respect them to some amount. He respects them enough at least that when Vlad Masters comes sniffing around, he is suitably offended on both Maddie and Jack's behalf. And when he finds out Vlad was the one who tried to kill Jack and tried to tell him to renounce him as his father/parental guardian, danny threw a suitably sharp object at him and insulted him quite horrendously

Vlad still wants him as his kid. In fact perhaps even moreso after this.

Danny trains with Maddie to keep up with his training. It's not quite the same but it prevents him from getting completely rusty

Sam and Tucker know that Danny has a little brother, but nothing else beyond that other than Danny cares about him quite a lot and that he got his facial scar from keeping him safe.

Danny cares about Sam, Tucker, and Jazz quite a bit, but he struggles to convey it. Especially early on when he realized he cared about them and like instinct started being harsher to them and more critical of their actions. This resulted in quite a few arguments with Sam and Tucker and Jazz until he got sat down and told outright that the way he was treating them wasn't okay. It's a process he's still trying to unlearn even at 15. He has become kinder towards them as a result, and has begun looking for what they did right rather than what they did wrong.

He harbors a lot of guilt over how he treated Damian in the League, and its a pretty big conflict he has with himself since he's torn between telling himself it was for the best to make sure Damian survived the League, and feeling like crap over how harsh/critical of Damian he was and realizing that he probably could have come up with a better way of training him despite being a child himself at the time. Danny comes to the realization that more than anything, that he just wants to apologize.

His ghost form, specifically is outfit, is a combination of his hazmat suit and his uniform from the league, and he carries a sword with him. He also doesn't know how to react to Dani, honestly. Although it is fair to say that he figures out she's a clone instantly because of her whole 'I'm your third cousin once removed' thing and he freaks out. She spills the beans pretty quickly after that. And Danny is pretty skittish around her - or the equivalent of skittish. Her being younger than him kinda reminds him of Damian, so he's uncomfortable by her presence but learns to warm up to her.

[wkemeup]

In the Embers

summary: Bucky finds his burdens weigh a little less when he’s with you pairing: bucky x reader word count: 4.6k warnings: self-loathing!bucky, PTSD symptoms, talkin bout ✨S P A C E✨ a/n: this was done for @sourpatchkidsandacokecan writing challenge! I had the prompt “I’m having a bonfire. You should join me” and because im incapable of writing fluff without first prefacing it with angst, I apologize. (Also included anon’s request of playing with Bucky’s hair)

The universe simply wouldn’t let Bucky Barnes set right all the wrongs he’d committed in his life. He was certain that in every attempt he made to step closer to the light, the cold embrace of a cruel, empty darkness would shove him several paces back and down into the abyss of a never-ending pit, leaving him with no way to climb back up to the surface.

The universe would find a way to keep him alienated from those who worked so tirelessly to help him, to make sure he stayed as lost and broken as Hydra made him to be, to ensure that he never made amends for his crimes the way he so desperately needed.

He was never meant for anything more, he supposed. He was tempting fate at it was, just simply continuing to live after all he’d done.

Perhaps he should have known his first mission with the Avengers would be a colossal failure. It was supposed to be simple, something to ease him back into the field; something his stupid, mushed up brain should have been able to comprehend, but he couldn’t even do that, could he?

No. Instead, when Bucky was meant to stand guard while Natasha finished downloading the software she was assigned to extract from the Hydra warehouse, he’d been distracted. He lost his focus for only a moment; his eyes having darted over to a room on his right. No, a cell. A prison.

It looked too much like the one he’d seen in his nightmares; the one he only got bits and pieces of in his memories. He recognized the cement flooring and the metal door with bars over the impenetrable glass. He knew the faint discoloration of red along the floor in the hallway leading into the room, like a bloodied body had been dragged and thrown inside without remorse. The smell of something decaying burned in his noise and his breath felt shallow in his lungs.

He knew this wasn’t where he was held. Steve had been able to track down enough answers for him to know Hydra had never kept him in South America, but it was just so familiar. He froze up, hands sweating and heart pounding so loud he was certain someone might hear it through the coms. His breaths were too pained, too fast, and he didn’t notice the Hydra agent come up on his left and lunge at Natasha.

A knife scraped along her arm as she attempted to dodge the attack and her yelp was the only thing that shocked Bucky back to his body. He rushed in to help, but it was already too late. The Hydra agent had managed to destroy the computer before the download was finished and alerted the entire building the Avengers were present.

Red flashing lights and sirens echoed in the halls as Natasha sprinted past him. She shot him a look; something of frustration and understanding mixed in one, and Bucky clenched his jaw so tightly he was sure it would never unlock again. He chased after her, escaping the influx of dozens of Hydra agents because he knew staying to fight wasn’t an option.

The jet was quiet on the way home. Fury had called in for an update and Bucky all but slumped into his seat in an effort to disappear as Steve reported the mission had failed. Stark, who was still getting used to the idea of having Bucky around in the first place, was grumbling under his breath, staring daggers at the reformed Winter Soldier and Bucky couldn’t help but think Steve should have just come out with it and told the director that he was the one that fucked up.

Steve was too understanding, too forgiving of his old friend, and everyone on the jet knew it. It was the disappointment in Steve’s eyes that hurt more than anything else. He thought Bucky was ready for something like this, thought Bucky was stronger than he was, but he wasn’t.

He was weak, and pathetic, and set to lose it at any given second. He was a raging mess of trauma and panic attacks and nothing he did seemed to make any of it better. Steve should have known not to trust him. He could barely trust himself.

Hours after the jet landed, Bucky sat alone in the dark of the living room, clutching at his hair enough to burn in his scalp, hunched over on his knees. He didn’t know why he even bothered to leave his room after the team returned, but the walls were just so white, his lack of belongings so evident, it left a kind of emptiness hanging in the air mirrored to that in his chest.

The whole team was elsewhere, no one around to witness his unbridled self-loathing and poor attempts to pull himself together. Steve and Stark were still holed up in meetings and attempting to explain why the team would need additional resources to run the mission again to extremely disgruntled higher ups in the Pentagon. Natasha and Sam were sparring down in the gym, getting out their frustration and testing the limits of their aching muscles. Clint was off at the farm with his family, where the guy belonged. Thor was still out in space doing who knows what.

And Bucky?

Bucky was alone.

Until, he heard the soft patter of footsteps sneaking down the hall, a light humming through the air that sent a shiver down his spine, just enough to lift his hands from his head and peak over the edge of the couch.

You whizzed around the kitchen, headphones in and swaying your hips along to a song Bucky could only vaguely hear; something with a light, melodic beat and lyrics you clearly didn’t know the words to. Smile on your face and wrapped up in dark black leggings, a sweatshirt that looked to be about twice your size, fuzzy slippers and a worn scarf, you gathered items from the pantry and set them on the countertop.

Bucky watched, not noticing that his anxiety had started to go down as you filtered through old cereal boxes and dug out a box of graham crackers from the back of the shelf and tossed a bag of marshmallows onto the counter. You dug into the plastic bag and popped one of the white clouds into your mouth with a content sigh, almost a moan, and Bucky found his lips curve just a little. Certainly not enough for anyone to notice, but enough that muscles were used that hadn’t been in a while.

Next, you snuck a block of a chocolate bar from the top shelf Bucky was almost positive belonged to Sam. As you turned back to the counter, gathering everything up in your hands, you froze, eyes falling on Bucky and a breath hitched in his lungs.

You slowly removed your headphones, raising an eyebrow as a smile easily pushed on your cheeks.

“Whatcha doin’ sitting in the dark like that?” you asked, voice sweet as ever and Bucky swore his face must have been beet red from the rush of heat in his cheeks.

He swallowed nervously, hands raking through his hair to tame the mess he’d created as he nearly ripped it out just moments earlier. He stood, slowly, and realizing his legs were a little numb from how long he’d been sitting there.

“Nothing,” he replied, straightening out the wrinkles on his pants. He looked down and realized he was still wearing his stealth suit. You must have noticed too because you started to laugh a little. It made Bucky’s stomach twist in knots. 

He turned to leave, needed to get out before he made an even bigger fool of himself. You were the last person he wanted to know that he was as broken and damaged as the rest of them thought.

“Well, if you’re not doing anything,” you called after him, unbothered as Bucky tried to escape the room, a mischievous smile on your face as you gathered up your snacks. “I’m having a bonfire. You should join me.”

Bucky froze in his tracks, a careful look over his shoulder. “What?”

You nodded, walking closer to him. “I mean, you should change first. Can’t imagine Kevlar and thigh holsters will be very comfortable out there. Dress warm, alright?”

You turned to walk away, just assuming he’d come because you always did think the best of him, despite having absolutely no reason to. Bucky watched as you practically skipped down the rest of the hall, waiting impatiently by the elevator, and you sent him a beaming smile before you stepped inside. If Bucky didn’t know better, he might have thought he was dreaming.

He’d only been living at the compound for a few months now since his pardon and he’d largely kept to himself. He'd take long runs outside alone and eat most of his meals in his room. Never one to initiate interaction, though he agreed to spar with Steve and Sam on occasions. Throwing fists was easier than talking. Talking was how his demons seemed to fall out. He’d say the wrong thing or remind Steve that he wasn’t who he used to be and he’d just get those sad, disappointed eyes again.

Steve never meant to make him feel so unwanted. He knew that, but Steve longed for Bucky as he was before the war, forgetting that pieces of him were still right here; damaged and broken, but still here.

Things were different with you. You never once asked him to be anything he wasn’t. You never stepped around eggshells or treated him like he was something to be feared. You never left the room as soon as he’d walk in and often purposefully went out of your way to ask him what he was doing that day or to include him in whatever pop culture argument you were having with Sam, even though Bucky couldn’t begin to follow what you were talking about. You’d invite him to every movie night, no matter how often he declined. You encouraged him to come to the publicity events and promised to make fun of Sam the whole time if he came.

Try as you did, you never could get Bucky to open up.

Except for tonight, it seemed.

He appreciated your gesture more than he admitted; out loud and to himself. He did start to notice the way his stomach hurt when you’d be a day overdue on your check-in’s while on missions overseas and how he often glanced over to your spot on the couch when you weren’t around. He noticed that his heart skipped a little when you’d touch his shoulder as you walked by and how your smile seemed to always make him blush.

He put too many rules on himself; so easily giving into the voice that reminded him that he deserved to be alone and isolated and without someone as kind and forgiving as you. He wondered, if maybe he told that voice to shove it, if he could find an ounce of something other than self-deprecation tonight. Any time spent with you would be better than his original plan of allowing his guilt to swallow him whole.

Bucky was already changing out of his suit before he realized it; throwing on an old SHEILD crewneck from Steve and a pair of sweatpants he stole from the training center. The cold didn’t bother him much, but you’d been so sweet all wrapped up in your sweats, it made Bucky want to try for something normal.

You made Bucky want to be normal.

It was how he found himself standing at the edge of the compound, looking out into the dark field to the soft flicker of a fire. You sat curled up on a blanket, smiling and proud of your work. You didn’t notice him just yet and Bucky decided he liked the way you smiled to yourself when you thought no one was watching.

He started to make his way over to you and you nearly jumped as he approached, hand clutching at your chest to still your heart and you started to laugh.

“Bucky! You scared me!” you grinned, making room for him on the blanket and patting the surface next to you for him to sit down. He did so, amazed that the feel of your thigh against his didn’t scare him away. If anything, it made him want more.  

“You’re surprised I came?” he asked softly, a semblance of a smile on his lips.

“Of course, I’m surprised, Bucky! You never come to anything I ask you to,” you replied and Bucky frowned, a twinge of guilt in his chest, but your smile was too bright for it to stay long as you continued, “but I’m really glad you did. Now I can give you partial blame for stealing Sam’s chocolate.”

A laugh escaped him before he could suppress it. It felt odd in his chest, but warm, welcoming maybe. “I see your true motives at work here.”

You shrugged, sending him that teasing grin that made his stomach twist, and you plopped a marshmallow on a metal stick and handed it over to him before doing another for yourself.

“You know how to make s’mores, right?” you asked, almost nervously, as Bucky eyes the marshmallow.

“Of course, doll, I wasn’t born in the stone age,” Bucky teased, surprised by his own voice.

“Just before sliced bread,” you shot back, grinning wildly and nudging at his shoulder. You didn’t seem to be affected at all that it was metal you touched, hard and cold beneath the surface of his sweatshirt. Bucky couldn’t help but smile.

***

Ten minutes later and Bucky had already consumed two whole s’mores before you got the perfect toast on a single marshmallow. You berated him for not caring about the ‘art’ of the s’more and that he under toasted or set them ablaze just to eat it sooner. He agreed and you shoved him playfully in the side.

“So where is everyone?” he asked, wiping the marshmallow from his lips, as you lit your third marshmallow on fire with an aggravated huff.

You stuck a new marshmallow on the end of your skewer and held it with careful precision over the flame. It was adorable, the way you squinted at the flames, determination over your features. After a moment, as you felt content with the ratio of flame to heat, you shrugged, answering his question, “right here”

Bucky raised an eyebrow. “Were you just going to do this by yourself if you didn’t see me in the living room?”

“Sometimes it’s nice to just get away for a while, have some place to think and just be,” you replied softly. “Besides, I like looking at the stars. It makes me feel small.”

If Bucky thought he had a decent read on you before, he was certainly at a loss now. “You like feeling small in the universe?”

“It reminds me that there are things out there that are bigger than myself,” you said, turning the marshmallow over the flame, a pleased smile on your face as the underside was toasted to the color you were looking for. “It reminds me that the little things I used spend days agonizing over only have power if I give it to them.”

The confusion must have read on Bucky’s face because you smiled at him, readjusting in your seat.

“We’re like these little blips,” you explained, pulling your marshmallow away from the flames, “and we only have this impossibly small amount of time here with so much before us and an eternity after we’re gone, and... I don’t know... I guess that makes me remember how important every moment is. I don’t want to spend my time here suffering, you know? I want to enjoy it. I want to do good with it and make it matter.”

Bucky nodded, looking up at the stars as you started to make your first s’more. The patterns of constellations were so clear outside of the city, imperfect patterns and arrays of tiny shiny specs in the sky, stretching out into the vast universe. Each one was a sun to its own solar system, each one surrounded by planets with potential life, and there were billions more than he could take in with his own eyes from this very small corner of a single world.

He knew what you meant about feeling small, though, he wasn’t quite sure how to get to the part about being thankful for his time here. If anything, if felt like his mark has been nothing but pain and violence and destruction. He should be sentenced to spend his time here agonizing over it, shouldn’t he?

“What are you thinking about?” you asked, noticing the contemplation on his face as you finally took a bite of your s’more and marshmallow oozed out the side. You groaned, eyes rolling back before you could catch yourself, and you giggled with full cheeks.

Bucky smiled at that. He might have forgotten entirely if he could just watch you do that again. “Nothing.”

“A face like that isn’t thinking about just nothing,” you retorted teasingly, shoving the rest of the sandwich into your mouth with a satisfied grin.

You had a bit of chocolate on the corner of your lips and Bucky’s hand reached out to brush it away without thinking. Your cheeks were warm from the fire, lips sticky from the marshmallows and the chocolate brushed off easily onto his thumb. He let his hand fall away and wiped it on the grass. He didn’t notice the way you watched him with a kind of awe that would have set his heart on fire.

“Come here,” you urged, pushing your legs out to lie flat on the blanket and gesturing to your lap. Bucky raised an eyebrow, confused, and you tugged on his shoulders, motioning for him to lay down.

Bucky didn’t quite know what to do, but he knew he’d do just about anything you asked, so he laid down along the blanket with his back pressed against the earth, his head resting on the soft cushion of your thigh.

“Look at the stars. They’re never ending. They go on for infinity and carry worlds of possibility. They’re limitless. Let them take some of your pain, Bucky,” you told him gently, leaning back to rest one hand against the grass as another gently wove into his scalp. 

He flinched at first, surprised by the sudden action, but found himself soon melting against the movements as it sent waves of shivers through his head and down his spine.

He did as you instructed, trying to find purpose in the stars, focusing on the gentle lull of your fingers tracing patterns in his hair. He only saw what he could; something beautiful, something vast and endless, but nothing that could take any the guilt he carried.

He wasn’t sure he’d ever find a way to let go of that. It was engrained in him. It was a part of him. The things he did were unforgivable, irredeemable, and it was all consuming. It weighed on him unlike anything else and pushed him so far beneath the surface, his lungs were filled with dirt.

After a while, Bucky’s eyes started to drift, losing focus on the stars you so endearingly found hope in, letting himself fall into the soft embrace of your nails as they wove patterns on his scalp, drawing a calm about him he hadn’t known in years.

“I heard about the mission,” you said quietly, suddenly, like you’d been thinking about it for a while, and Bucky stiffened instantly under your touch, his heart skipping several beats, but your fingers continued to rake gently against his scalp, drawing him back to a sense of calm. “It’s not your fault, you know. They never should have sent you to a Hydra facility on your first mission in the field.”

There was a hint of anger in your voice, like you’d had this conversation before, like maybe you’d argued with someone about it, tried to stop it from happening and no one had listened. Bucky’s stomach started to hurt, thinking that maybe even you, who thought so highly of him, didn’t think he was good enough to be an Avenger.

“There were too many reminders there, you know?” you said, continuing as you looked up at the stars. “I kept thinking they should have sent you to Bratislava with me; ease you into the field by breaking up trafficking rings first and maybe stop a few drug shipments, not by sending you right back to the people who hurt you for so long. I don’t know what they were thinking.”

That surprised him. You wanted to work with him? He knew you didn’t usually take part in Hydra missions after your father had been exposed as one of the double agents in the attack on D.C. There were enough agents with vendettas against Hydra to take on the cause and you were plenty happy to take down bad guys without worldwide organizational skills.

“We’d make a good team, don’t you think?”

Bucky realized then that he wasn’t watching the stars anymore, he was watching you. The flicker of the fire illuminated your skin in soft waves of reds and yellows, warm flush in your cheeks. You glanced down at him, fingers still gently carding through his hair, and he wondered if he’d ever seen a more beautiful smile in his life.

“Yeah, think so,” he replied. He never wanted to raid a Hydra base again if he could spend more time with you like this.

You smiled at him, proud, before you looked back up at the stars. “You’re more than just a culmination of your actions, Bucky. I know you feel like the things you did under Hydra’s control have turned the universe against you and that you’ll never be able to make up for all of it, but you don’t have to save people from burning buildings and throw yourself straight into your trauma to prove you’re good, Buck.”

Bucky sat up slowly, letting your hand fall away from his hair and trace down the side his left arm until it rested delicately on his hand; the metal warm to the touch as it absorbed the heat of the flame. You turned to him, smiling sweetly, though your eyes were sad.

“The small moments count, too,” you said.

“I thought you said the universe took away the small things, that they didn’t matter?” he replied, confused, but you shook your head.

“Only the bad things, Buck; the things that cause you pain.”

“That’s convenient,” he teased, enjoying the way your nose scrunched up in feigned frustration.

“You forget that small moments of good can change someone’s entire day. They can make a world of difference,” you countered, your free hand reaching up to cup the side of his face. He shivered under your touch though he didn’t dare pull away. “The first day I saw you smile is a pretty good example of that, actually.”

Bucky narrowed his eyes at that, surprised.

“I had just gotten into a fight with Fury over the mission he was trying to send me on, one I didn’t believe was the right call, and I was about to go hit a punching bag for hours until my knuckles bled,” you explained, thumb brushing gently along his cheekbone, “but then I saw you sitting in the kitchen with Steve. I don’t even know what you were talking about but Sam had dropped the entirety of his lunch plate on the floor and you just... you smiled. It was wide enough to see the dimples in your cheeks and the wrinkles by your eyes, and I forgot why I was so angry to begin with.”

Bucky didn’t know what to say. He shook his head. “I never knew you were there...”

“I could list dozens of other moments like that Bucky,” you said softly, “and they all add up. Like the days you’d leave out an extra cup of coffee for me on Wednesdays because you figured out I only drink it before my mandatory board meetings and how you always pick up the empty dishes of those sitting around you when you go to clean your own or when you offer to help new recruits struggling with their hand-to-hand in the training gym. Please don’t disregard those moments. They matter. If anything, they matter more because they’re small. These tiny little moments that make the smallest differences and create a chain effect of something... good.”

How long have you been picking up on things like that? 

Did you also know that it was him that always made sure your stockpile of microwave popcorn was full or that he took Natasha’s shift training rookies once a week so the two of you could spend more time together, because he hated seeing you so disappointed each time your schedules clashed. Did you know that his heart eased a little when you walked in the room and the soft hum of your voice made his stomach twist in knots?

“Do you think I’m crazy?” you asked quietly, studying him for a reaction as he got lost in his own thoughts.

“No! No, of course not,” Bucky said, shaking his head, and reaching up for your wrist as you stared to pull your hand away from his face nervously. “I never considered that before, is all. I think I’ll have a lot of small moments to go before I can make up for all I’ve done.”

He said it in a teasing way, but you frowned.

“Not to me,” you said quietly, almost in a whisper. “You’re overflowing with good, Bucky, and I swear, I’m reminded of that every time I get to see you smile.”

Bucky paused, his heart aching and swelling with every word you say. He pulled your hand into his lap, holding it gently. “So, not very often then?”

You grinned, letting out a laugh, and it brought a smile to his face. “No, not very often, but it’s nice to see it now.”

“Might have to start smiling more, I guess,” he replied, a hitch in his breath as you leaned into his chest, arms wrapping around his waist. You started to shove him down to the grass and he let out a heart-filled laugh, letting you lay down beside him along the blanket, head resting on his shoulder, arm draped over his chest.

“Can we just stay here a little longer?” you asked, glancing up at him and he swore he’d never say no to you again. He’d let you take him anywhere you wanted; to movie nights, to extravagant galas, to the ends of the Earth.

“As long as you want, doll,” he sighed, reveling in the warmth of the fire and the press of your body against his.

He’d stare at the stars for an eternity with you.

*insert that meme of Jenny Slate screaming about space*

Thank you so much for reading! ❤️ If you enjoyed this fic, please consider supporting me at my ko-fi account ✨

[hcrringtonshair]

This Feeling

Summary: Bucky and you talking about his old life and spending a new one together. 

Word Count: 1234

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Warnings: light depressed Bucky, lots of fluff

A/N: Heyo people. Corona is stressing me out. Most of the time im at work and have absolutely no time to write. Luckily I had time to finish this fluffy piece. A big thank u for @justanotherant !!!! I hope you like it and would appreciate it if you tell me what you think!

Masterlist

“It’s amazing isn’t it?”

The black night sky above you was filled with shining stars glowing in the dark. They were breathtaking. After staring into the beautiful sky for minutes your head dropped to watch the lights in the city. There were thousands of little lights coming from the streets, buildings, and cars streaming through the city; they all lightened your view. Music was playing in the background in the inside of the Avengers tower, and you hummed the lyrics lying on your back.

“It’s truly beautiful yes…” Bucky’s voice was low, and he’s eyes were staring down at the streets before he laid down next to you to watch the night sky.

He never was a person to talk much, always preferring to be in the background even if the others of the group forced him sometimes to be in the middle of the action. He never really got to know most of the Avengers, they viewed him as a monster who couldn’t be controlled.  Only you had made it a point to get to know him.

Tonight was your fifth date, it was nothing special; the goal was to just relax and watch the breathtaking view while enjoying each other’s company. On your first date, you two were walking through the city and he had shown you places where he had grown up in his youth. He showed you a small notebook, like a diary, full of memories he remembered. Everything had changed a lot, but his diary helped remind him of the past. On the second, third and fourth dates you two shared snacks and watched a few of the most popular movies of all time that he missed.

“Everything’s okay Bucky?”

You pulled yourself up to face him from the side. His eyes were staring up to the sky and you took the chance to watch him closely. His shoulder long hair was spread on the platform you both were sitting on, perfectly framing his face and a few strands across his face. His chest slowly rose and fell; he was so stoic you couldn’t say if he was comfortable or not.

“It’s okay, I just have a few things on my mind I have to handle.”

You reach out to put your hand on his. “If you want you can tell me.”

His eyes turn to yours and a little smile appears on his lips. 

“I don’t want you to worry. It’s kind of difficult to be me, that’s it.”

You could see the sadness, or was it just worry you couldn’t tell, in his eyes.

“I only can imagine how you feel, but you’re not alone. Whatever you have to face, I’ll be with you.”

“Thank you y/n”

For a moment you thought this was the end of the conversation but Bucky takes a deep breath.

“I said it once already to Steve. I’m not really sure if I’m all worth this.” His eyes met yours, you could see desperation in his. “Now I’m not sure if I’m worth your thoughts and worries. I really like you y/n, I don’t want you to suffer.”

You were still staring at his lips, feeling bad because you couldn’t stop thinking about pressing yours on them. With a short shake of your head you came back to reality and Bucky didn’t notice your movements, thank god.

“I don’t want you to suffer with me. I’m someone who should’ve lived his life 70 years ago. But instead I’ve become something I never wanted and did terrible things I can’t forget. And I’m still here, this feeling is awkward. And there’s you, for the first after a long time you are the one who lights up my world and gives me hope. I want to cover up the feeling of guilt with the feeling you give me when we’re together.”

“I know this feeling. The feeling of don‘t fit in. To be the only one who thinks different and wish to be in another place. The feeling you’re going through, Buck.” You put your hair back out of your blushing face. “And you are worth it. I never met someone like you. And probably never will again, given you’re from another time. Another era.”

Soft laughter slipped out of both your mouths.

“And you never had the chance to live a normal life, but now here it is. There’s no HYDRA, no S.H.I.E.L.D, no one who plays with your mind and no one you have to kill. You’re a free man, you have to start to forgive yourself and I’ll help you.”

He stares in your eyes while you grab his hands, the cold of the metal one let the hairs on your arm stand up.

“Make a new start.. with me or not if you don‘t want it. Here or wherever you want. But I promise I‘ll always be there for you.“

For the first time this evening, a bright smile appeared on his lips, a smile that reached his eyes.

You could feel his fingers lock with yours.

“Even if the others tell you you shouldn’t be with me? I know they told you so. I see the expression on their faces when they see us together. I can only imagine what they think, but I guess it’s not very friendly. Maybe they’re right.” The smile disappeared and he looked worried.

“I don’t care, Buck. All the time I decided to act rationally and what would be the best for the team. Now it’s just us and they don’t know how I feel. Screw them and what they say.”

“So you say you want to be with me, no matter what they say? You know it’ll never be a normal life and-“

“When was life ever normal?”

A sigh left his mouth and gives your hand a soft squeeze.

“If this is too much tell me.” Your voice wasn’t more than a whisper, you see how he bites his under lip and closes his eyes. This was probably the most beautiful view you have ever seen.

Carefully you reach out to touch his cheek, brushing over it. The stubbles scratching on the soft skin of your fingertips as he smiles under your touch again what makes you hold your breath.

“You’re so soft… and lovely…” he interlock his flesh fingers with yours, “it’s impossible to resist.” Before you could answer he pulled you closer, his face only a few inches away.

You could feel his other hand pressing in your back, there was no space between your bodies.

“So, why are you trying to stop it?”

He opened his mouth for an answer but he decided not to. A surprised squeak leaves your throat when he removes his hand from your back to grab into your hair and pulls your head down. In the moment your lips were touched by his smooth pink ones you close your eyes and you give him a happy sigh. Too early, he pulls away to face you.

Stunned from the kiss you couldn’t say anything. Bucky noticed that your heart pounded so fast again your chest so he grinned in reply. The music that was still playing seemed to be far away and besides that the whole world as well.

“This is a good feeling. I would like to keep it.”

“Whatever you want, Buck. Whatever you want.”