Our First Quotation 🎉💪

Our First Quotation 🎉💪

Our first quotation 🎉💪

📖"A real friend is someone, who dries your tears and afterwards smash salt in your eyes" - Regina & Jessie

More Posts from Happycat547 and Others

1 year ago

Sweeter Than Honey •Masterlist•

Sweeter Than Honey •Masterlist•

Pairing: Mechanic!Bucky x Fem!Personal Assistant!Reader

WC: 20k (Complete)

Summary: It's your first international trip working for bestselling author Tony Stark as his new personal assistant, and you're desperate to prove yourself worthy of such an incredible opportunity. But when things start to go wrong whilst staying in Dublin, and suddenly you're stuck in the middle of the Wicklow Mountains with a flat tire, you're convinced that you'll be fired before the day is over. Luckily, a handsome, blue-eyed mechanic with an accent that makes your insides melt comes just in time to save the day.

No pressure at all, but if you'd like to support me for my writing, please consider buying me a Kofi!

Sweeter Than Honey •Masterlist•

🍀 Chapter 1

🍀 Chapter 2

🍀 Chapter 3

🍀Sweeter Than Honey Drabbles/Thoughts Tag

Sweeter Than Honey •Masterlist•

Note: This series was inspired by a request made by @w0nderw0mansw0rld MONTHS ago, mixed along with a life situation that I thought might fight with the story. Some of the banner images I used were taken by w0nderw0man herself (including the bottom right corner one in the masterlist), which makes it that much more fun and personal. :) <3

There will be no taglist for this series. For updates on new chapters, be sure to follow @dreamlanddlibrary and turn on notifications for when I post new fics!

Beta'd by the truly wonderful @sweetascanbee

Divider by @firefly-graphics

🍀 Fun stuff 🍀

Sweeter Than Honey •Masterlist•

Moodboard by @treatbuckywkisses 💕

Fayth moodboards STH tag

Sweeter Than Honey •Masterlist•

Moodboard by @m4tthewmurd0ck 💕

This lovely moodboard by @buckspumpkin 🥰

8 years ago

Guuuurl👌🔥🔥

I Like Her With Long Hair :D
I Like Her With Long Hair :D

I like her with long hair :D

1 year ago

Warrior/Worrier (Bucky Barnes x Reader)

Summary: After a mission gone awry, Bucky finds himself on your doorstep in the middle of the night.

Words: 5.3K

Fluff, fluff and fluff and a lil bit of angst. Classic hurt/comfort and friends to lovers

Warrior/Worrier (Bucky Barnes X Reader)

Through the darkness, there's a knock on your bedroom door, so soft, so cautious, that if you hadn't already been half-awake, you're not sure you would've caught it.

Legs quickly swung over the side of your mattress, you stop and focus at a fixpoint in your moonlit room.

According to the big mission schedule hung in Steve's office, you should be the only one at the compound, so you cannot for the life in you figure out who would rap on your door at 3.30 in the morning, but it wasn't just something you'd imagined because there it is again. A knock, not much louder than before, but definitely there.

For a brief second, your foggy brain ponders that it's likely someone who's been sent to kill you in the dead of night, but before you've even reached for your bedside Beretta, rationality reminds you that they probably wouldn't have had the curtesy to knock first - and then it dawns on you.

"Nat," you sigh with a roll of your eyes and let your bare feet hit the floor while you rub the sleep from off your face. It's not the first time she's forgotten the lock combination to her room after post-mission drinks.

Slowly, you walk across the cold floorboards and over to the wooden door where you can hear ragged breathing from the other side of the wall. Hand lazily pulling the door open, you start talking before you've seen who's on the other side.

"It's only four digits and you're panic breathing?" you chuckle but is immediately taken aback when you're not met by Natasha but instead by your best friend. "...Buck?"

He's back from his mission a day earlier than you'd expected and you're just about to crack a witty comment on how you'd told him that Sam couldn't stand to be alone with him for more than thirty-six hours, but then you notice the state he's in.

His entire body is slumped over as he clutches his right arm tight to his chest, eyes droopy and blank, cheekbones dotted by freckles of soot and framed by thick strands of auburn hair caked in dried blood. "Doll," he breathes painfully and takes a step closer, looking only mildly relieved to see you.

"Buck!" you hiss in fear and grab both his cheeks, but his dirty face just drops further, and he can't even look at you though you're standing mere inches apart.

"I know it's late," he mumbles with his gaze downcast, "but can I come in?"

It's as if you don't hear him clearly enough to respond. His voice is under water and at the same time layers above you while you're far too concerned with every look of horror splashed across his handsome face, your hands frantically clutching his bloodied cheeks as you desperately search his eyes though he still won't look at you. "What happened? Where's all this blood coming from?"

"It's - it's not mine..." he croaks with a small shake of his head.

Fear ripples through your entire body one more time and you can barely speak as you imagine the worst possible scenario that might have caused Bucky to behave like this. "Is it... Sam?" you whimper with tears already burning in your eyes, fighting the urge to throw up.

"He's fine," Bucky quickly interrupts with a small nod, "I dropped him off at his girl's place twenty minutes ago," he croaks and finally looks up at you, his eyes more broken than you've ever seen them before. It makes your heart crack in two. "Sweetheart, can I please come in?"

"Oh god," you pant anxiously and reluctantly let your fingers slide off his cheeks as you step to the side and finally let him inside your bedroom. "Yes, yes of course you can come in."

Immediately, he's on your bed, his face buried in his vibranium hand as the pads of his fingers start rubbing circles over his dusty forehead.

"What happened?" you barely manage to croak as you sit down beside him and carefully place a hand on his rigid thigh. "Last time I heard from you, everything was going according to plan."

"I don't want to talk about it," he gulps and starts rubbing his face even more agitatedly, looking over at you with an apologetic look on his face. "- not right now... I just had to see you. I'm sorry I woke you up."

You grab his vibranium hand and bring it down to his lap to get him to stop his frantic movements and he immediately squeezes you tight, letting out another heart-breaking sob.

"It's okay, Buck. I'm glad you're here."

Over the last year, you've seen Bucky on his darkest days a handful of times, and he usually has the same look on his face, but this time, it's different. It's deeper. Despondent and morose, the anger that's usually posessing him om the bleaker days replaced by a different kind of sadness.

Something really bad must've happened...

"Do you wanna sleep in here tonight?" you ask, unsure how to tackle this the best way possible if you don't want him to shield himself off in his room the way he usually does when he's not feeling his best. He shouldn't be alone under any circumstances.

You're half expecting him to protest, but to your surprise he starts nodding, relieved. "Thank you," he whispers and squeezes your hand tight again.

You make an attempt at a comforting touch as you brush over the soot on his cheeks, making a strand of dirty hair dipped in dried blood fall from his forehead. "You want a shower? I can draw you a bath."

He nods again.

"Come on, love," you say quietly and watch as he gulps hard at the sound of the tender pet-name that you've been wanting to call him for months now but haven't had the guts to say out loud until it accidentally slips past your lips. Surprisingly, you're not even embarrassed by yourself. You suppose there are more important things to worry about than an accidental profession of love in a moment of gentle affection.

Bucky seems taken aback too, frozen, and full of wonder, but he shakes it off and lets you pull him to your small bathroom, accepting your fluffiest towel without a word as he continues staring at you.

"I'll be just outside, okay?" you say reassuringly as you turn on the water in your bathtub, making sure it's the right temperature before putting in the drain stopper.

He's still looking at you with huge eyes, flesh arm clutched to his chest while the fluffy white towel gently supports his elbow. You silently wonder if he's hurt but before you can ask him, he speaks.

"Can you... stay?" He asks quietly, biting his inner cheek, unsure if his request is too much.

Still, it's your turn to be taken aback. You and Bucky are close but not like that. 

"Stay?" you instinctively furrow your eyebrows, "while you shower?

He immediately clenches his jaw shut and shakes his head while small patches of pink appear on his cheeks underneath all the dirt. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked."

"No, no it's okay," you quickly stand up from your position by the tub spout so you're once again levelled. "- I was just surprised, that's all," you want to smack yourself for making him doubt himself. "Of course I'll stay."

Ice blue irises slowly find yours while the rose tint of his lower lip is being pulled between his teeth. "Are you sure?" he hesitates while sucking in some air, "I don't want to make you uncomfortable..."

"You're not," you touch your hand to his sternum to underline your words and watches as the crease between his eyebrows slowly reduces as he gradually relaxes under your touch. You can't help but think that even through all the dust and the grime, he looks incredibly beautiful.

"Let me give you some privacy," you unwillingly let go of him and turn away so he can undress in peace.

From behind you, you can hear the ruffle of his tac pants being pushed down his legs before the belt buckle clangs loudly against the tiles of the floor. It's followed by a series of loud painful grunts and hisses a few seconds later.

"Are you okay?" you ask and turn your head to the side, careful not to look directly at him as to not break the trust he put in you when he asked you to stay. "Buck?"

"Yeah, sweetheart," he sighs in embarrassment behind you, "it's just... do you think you could... help me?"

You turn around slowly to find him standing in the middle of the bathroom still wearing his torn t-shirt and Kevlar vest, bare-legged in boxer shorts and black socks pulled high up on his calf while his pants are lying crumbled on the floor beside him. He's awkwardly shifting the weight between his two feet, still clutching his right arm tightly. "It's my elbow."

Immediately, you furrow your eyebrows and walk over to him, taking his right hand in yours. "Yeah, I meant to ask you earlier. What happened?"

He doesn't answer but just silently lets you examine the swelling and black-purple skin that's half-hidden underneath dust and blood.

"Shit," you breathe and hear him give out a sharp hiss when you turn his arm over so you can examine the other side, "Buck, I think your elbow's torn."

"Me too," he gulps, "- I heard it snap."

At the mere thought of the sound, a wave of nausea hits you square in the chest and your stomach starts to churn. You can feel the tang of acid push up on your tongue when you imagine the pain he must've been enduring - still is enduring - but you fight it relentlessly and eventually manage to swallow down the bile. You should be taking care of him, not the other way around.

"We should go down to the infirmary," you say and keep your gaze firmly placed on the purple bruising, so he doesn't notice your discomfort. "I know it probably won't take too long to heal with the serum and all but just to make su-"

"Sweetheart," he gulps from above you and it makes you stop mid-sentence. "Not tonight, okay? I just wanna stay here tonight."

You look up at him, about to protest, but the words quickly die in your throat when you notice the look he's wearing. He's begging. Anxious. Heavy-hearted.

"Okay," you reluctantly agree and carefully let go of his arm while he sends you a grateful look. "Come on, let me help you out of this," you say quietly in defeat and unstrap his vest beneath his ribs, pulling the Kevlar plates over his head while he groans loudly.

"Ah!" he hisses and clutches his elbow tight, squeezing his eyes shut when you try and pull his t-shirt over his head. "Fuck!"

"You good?"

"Mm-hmm" he hums displeased with lips pressed so tightly together they're forming a thin, white line. "Just get it over with."

You pull on the hem again so the dark fabric rides up his stomach, revealing scarred skin pulled tight over the bulging muscles you've spent so many warm summer days discreetly staring at. "Can you reach your arms just a little higher?" you ask and watch how his diaphragm heaves in small electric shocks when he cannot control the loud gasps that escape his throat.

"Fuck me!" He hisses and squeezes his eyes so tightly shut that his entire face pales. "Just rip the damn fabric off," he hisses angrily, "I can't extend my fucking arm."

"Are you sure you don't wanna get it checked out in the med wing?" You let go of his t-shirt and look him deep in the eye, hoping your concerned gaze can convince him that it'll be worth the trip just to get your jumping nerves under control.

"Just... get me out of this thing," he sighs in defeat. "Cut it open, I don't care."

Disinclined, you dive down in the drawer underneath your sink, pulling out a small flat-legged scissor that came with a roll of gauze you bought last year when you had a nasty wound that wouldn't stop bleeding. "Are you sure?" You look up at him as you put the blade underneath the hem of his t-shirt.

Through the fingers you have placed over his chest, you can feel how his pulse quickly falls again when your eyes meet.

"S'just a t-shirt," he mumbles quietly while nodding, "I'm sure..."

Though you want to stay in this position forever, you slowly look away from him and down at your hands as your hesitantly start cutting, careful not to pierce Bucky's flesh with the sharp scissors.

The blade runs through the fabric like a hot knife through butter and you can feel every tense muscle that the edge of the scissors encounters as they travel over his warm stomach and chest. It makes the blood roar in your ears as more and more skin is revealed underneath your fingertips.

Concentrated on not hurting him even more, you keep your gaze firmly placed on his heavily panting chest as you cut open the front of his black shirt and carefully peel the fabric off his bruised arm until he's standing in front of you in nothing but black boxers and socks, his left hand carefully reaching out for yours as if to comfort both of you.

You've seen him bare chested several times before, but it's never been in this close proximity, never been this intimate, just the two of you holding hands and looking each other deep in the eye as you silently try to assure the other that everything is going to be okay.

"So..." you clear your throat, embarrassed by the fact that you have to hold yourself back from leaning forwards, planting a small kiss on his dusty cheek. "- I take it you can shimmy your way out of those on your own, right?" You nod down towards his boxers and he blinks as if he's just woken up from a trance.

"Yeah," he nods and lets go of your hand while the pink patches make a reappearance on his face.

Slowly, you turn around facing the running spout in the tub to the soft sound of cotton hitting the floor behind you. Involuntarily, you give out a gulp and flusteredly grab the box of bath salts just to give your shaking hands something to do. You cannot believe that your extremely fuckable best friend is standing naked in your bathroom no more than two feet away, begging you to stay close to him.

Eyes still firmly placed on the water in the tub, you point over your shoulder to the rainfall shower in the opposite corner of the bathroom. "You wanna rinse off first?"

"I better," Bucky hesitates behind you. "Don't you think?"

"It'll be a much nicer bath if you do," you awkwardly clear your throat.

"Yeah, you're right," he sighs and turns on the shower, immediately stepping inside and closing the glass door behind him so you can finally breathe freely again.

Through the mirror above the sink, you can make out his naked silhouette behind the matte glass and how the tension in his shoulders first tenfolds and then completely disappears the minute the water turns warm and he relaxes. He lets his forehead fall forwards so it's pressed up against the cold tiles while the water runs over his defined shoulders and down his sculpted back, and you literally have to force your eyes away from him and the shape of his handsome torso.

With your gaze fixed firmly on the fuzzy bathmat at the foot of the shower, you hear the sound of your bath gel being opened, followed by a series of painful grunts as Bucky desperately tries to lather himself with the soap.

"Fuck," he mumbles quietly and before you've even voiced a single word of concern, he continues. "Sweetheart, I know it's a lot to ask..." he says a little louder, the embararssement still evident in his voice, "- but I'm gonna need a little help in here... it's - it's this damn elbow," he sighs, "I'm useless. Can you...?" his voice trails off and the question hangs thickly in the air between you.

He wants you to join him.

To wash him.

Take care of him.

The thought alone makes you nervous, you have to admit, but he needs your help and you're willing to do anything for him.

"Give me a minute," you gulp and strip down to your panties, pulling on the bra you wore earlier so you're not completely bare in there. Several times, you've dreamt of you and Bucky naked together, but not like this - never like this - and you'll be damned if the first time he sees you without a shred of clothes is because he needs help and not because he needs you.

With your pyjamas neatly folded on top of the toilet seat cover, you take a final look at yourself in the mirror, brushing your hair out of your eyes before nervously reaching for the shower door with shaking hands.

He's still standing with his chiselled back towards you, letting the water rinse over his dirty hair and down between his shoulder blades with a slightly pinkish hue. "I'm so sorry about this," he mumbles uncomfortably and hands you your loofah behind his back. "I'll make it up to you, I promise."

"Come on, Buck," you say as you dribble a little soap on the sponge, fighting the urge to let your gaze run all the way down to his thick thighs. "Don't beat yourself up, you know I'm always here for you."

"Still," he mumbles and goes silent as the loofah gently runs over his tense shoulders and traces down his spine.

The white soap bubbles work magic on his dirty skin and you make sure not to leave out a single square inch of his scarred backside as you wash him while fighting the urge to wrap your arms around his torso, telling him how glad you are that he not alone came home, but also that he came to you seeking help instead of barricading himself in his room. It seems significant that he's here, as if something's changed between you though you cannot put your finger on it.

Completely lost in thought, you accidentally run the loofah a little too vigorously over his right tricep, sending shockwaves down his broken bone and resulting in a painful hiss falling from his open mouth.

"Sorry," you mumble, and scrub down his lower back, this time more careful with your movements though there aren't any dirty or bloody spots left on either side of his spine. "There we go" you conclude quietly when you realise that the rinsing water has finally lost its pink and grimy hue. "Turn around," you ask and hope he cannot hear the nervousness straining your voice. No matter what, you're not looking down.

Bucky seems just as jittery about his compromising position as you do, and he slowly spins around, revealing pink cheeks and heaving pecs, his gaze glued to the ceiling as he looks as if he's ready to fling himself off the nearest cliff. "God, sweetheart," he mumbles and breathes hard, "I'm so sorry for all this."

"Bucky, come on - what'd I tell you?" you touch the loofah to his chest, careful not to look anywhere than at the sponge itself as it traces over his collar bones and down his handsome stomach.

He merely sighs and stands completely still while you rinse the crevices between the metal plates over his left clavicle, careful not to move his torso so much he hisses in pain again.

"...You're a good friend," he mumbles after a few focused minutes where you've carefully been scrubbing the gold-plated lines in the vibranium, "- I ever tell you that?"

"All the time," you smile genuinely for the first time since he knocked on your door earlier that evening. If there's one thing you can count on, it's that Bucky Barnes appreciates you more than anything.

"I mean it," he says, "never doubt that."

You look up into his eyes.

He looks so soft and innocent as he stands before you, face finally clean, wet hair sticking to his forehead while he professes his love for you. Even if it's just platonic, it makes your heart skip a beat.

"I know, Buck."

"Good," he nods and blinks a few times with heavy, wet lashes framing his cerulean eyes. The air between you is thicker than ever and for a brief moment, it looks as if he's about to lean in and kiss you, but you break the tension by looking away. You don't want to take advantage of his vulnerable state no matter how badly you want that kiss.

"You ready for the tub?" You ask him in a weirdly shaky voice.

He nods while an almost inaudible sigh escapes his lips. "Yeah," he says and turns off the water, quickly exiting the shower before you can take notice of the disappointment burning on his skin.

You dry your feet on the small fuzzy mat, carefully watching Bucky's naked backside as he tests the temperature in the tub by dipping his toe in the water before stepping over the porcelain edge, sitting himself down.

Immediately, he gives out a content sigh, and drapes right arm over his chest, supporting his broken elbow with vibranium fingers, and you finally deem the situation safe enough to approach him again.

"Want me to wash your hair?"

"Mmh" he hums with closed eyes, immediately more relaxed now that he's covered by water. "I don't deserve you."

You grab your shampoo bottle and push out a decent amount of liquid, pressing it to his warm scalp to the sound of an alleviated sigh falling from his lips as you carefully start massaging it into his roots.

"Does that feel good?" you ask through a smile.

"Yeah, sweetheart," he groans quietly, making the butterflies in your stomach flutter awake, "- feels amazing."

You're slowly lathering shampoo into his long hair, enjoying the feel of him underneath your fingertips, how his soft hair slips through your hands while also trying not to think too much about the kiss you robbed yourself of in the shower. You can hear how his breathing slowly steadies and you think that maybe he's in the early stages of sleep but then he unexpectedly heaves a deep breath -

"You know... I haven't been scared of death for a long time," he says so sudden, so seriously that you're immediately brought out of your trance as your every muscle freezes at his austere tone of voice. "I used to not care if I lived or died but... tonight didn't go as planned," he swallows thickly and you can see how his jaw tenses up as his voice becomes husky, "- they... had me."

"What?" you pant with mortification, your every skeletal muscle paralysed as your breathing picks up. You don't have to ask him who he's talking about.

"Sam and I, we were so sure of ourselves," he shakes his head with his gaze fixed on the wall straight ahead. "We thought had the perfect plan... I - I'm such an idiot, nothing ever runs smoothly with Hydra."

You can feel your heart thumping in your throat. "What happened?" You whisper.

"Sam was on the look-out while I got the hard drive," he mumbles, "it was so easy. It didn't even take me five minutes before I was heading back towards the safehouse," he gulps, "- of course it was an ambush. I should have realised the minute I set foot inside that building."

"You couldn't have known," you whimper softly and stroke his scalp, but he doesn't listen.

"- I thought I was..." the words drown in a heavy sigh, and he stares blankly into space while blinking the tears away.

"Buck," you whisper and can feel the pain radiating from every fibre of his entire being when you wrap your arms around his wet torso and hold him close to your chest.

"They took me to a room. Strapped me down," he takes a ragged breath, and you hold on to him even tighter, "I was sure that was it. I never thought I'd find myself home again."

"You're home now," you whisper and softly kiss his shoulder, hoping that he doesn't feel the tear that lands on top of his clavicle. "You're home now with me."

"I know, sweetheart," he leans into your hug with a sigh, "trust me, I know."

"Everything's gonna be alright, love," you whisper against him and stroke your hand over his hair, "it's you and me against the world, always."

"You and me," he quietly confirms and leans back into your chest with a deep breath.

You continue stroking him over the hair, hold on to him for dear life, not willing to let go as you feel him relax more and more in your arms until he starts snoring slightly, finally warm and safe in your embrace.

"Buck, come on," you instinctively kiss him right below his ear, "you're sleeping. Let's get you into bed."

"Sorry," he mumbles groggily and lets his head fall back against your shoulder. "m'just so fucking tired. Been up thirty-six hours..."

"We'll talk tomorrow," you kiss him again and unwillingly unwrap yourself from around his chest, standing up straight beside him. "I'm not going anywhere. Promise."

He's looking up at you with puppy eyes, gaze slowly travelling down your body and up again as if he hadn't realised you were in your lingerie until that exact moment. "You look beautiful," he says quietly and you half-expect him to laugh it off, but his face stays serious.

"...Thanks," you croak while handing him the fluffy towel, not sure how to react to his sweet words. He's called you many things, but he's never downright called you beautiful before.

"I can take it from here, sweetheart," he nods slowly and steals one last glance down at your body, "you just go to bed. I'll be in in a minute."

"Okay," you whisper and peel yourself away from the tension between you by swiftly turning around, exiting the bathroom.

Back in your room, you barely have time to get out of your wet underwear and put on a fresh set of pyjamas, before a boxer-clad Bucky joins you on the bed.

"Are you still okay with me staying the night?" He asks, nervously.

"Of course I am," you answer immediately and find his vibranium hand underneath the covers, lacing your fingers between his as you scan his weary features. "See if you can get some sleep, okay? You need it," you brush a strand of wet hair away from his face and make sure he's fine by gently cupping his cheek before closing your eyes, hoping he's following your lead, doing the same.

The dark room goes completely quiet for a few minutes where the only audible sound is of your synchronised breathing.

You can feel yourself grow impossibly tired too as you lie there hand in hand with Bucky, and you're just about to succumb to sleep, when suddenly, his quiet whisper breaks the silence.

"I thought about you," he says softly, and it makes you open your eyes again.

You're staring straight into his handsome face, his beautiful blue eyes scanning over your features as he slowly clarifies.

"When they had me strapped down, I thought about you," he moves his fingers against the palm of your hand and completely engulfs you. "The thought of not seeing you again was..." the words die in his throat, and he looks as if he's seconds away from whimpering. "- Sweetheart, you make me so afraid of dying."

You breathe hard with quivering lips, huge eyes matching his as you let his confession sink in.

"I was so desperate to come home, I snapped the restraints in half. Snapped my own elbow along with them," he winces slightly at the painful memory that once again makes your stomach churn. "Sweetheart, I fought like hell. I don't think I've ever been so angry... I - I killed everyone I could get my hands on, I just had to see you again," he brings your hand to his soft lips and kisses the delicate pulse point of your wrist.

"Buck..." a slow whine escapes your throat as you try to blink away a stubborn tear that slowly starts rolling down the side of your nose.

"I love you," he whispers so softly against your thin skin that you almost don't hear. His eyes are closed and he looks relieved to be lying here with you, so you carefully pull his hand to your chest, placing his vibranium palm above your heavily beating heart.

"I love you too."

"Sweetheart," he whispers above you and moves his hand a little on top of your soft pyjamas while lightly shaking his head with a sigh. "No, you don't understand..." he gulps and searches your face, "I love you."

Your breath hitches in your throat.

"- I want more than this," he slowly admits. "I want to be more than your friend. I'm in love with you."

You squeeze his hand and move a little closer to him, scared that he'll stop confessing his love if you say something to throw him off track.

He holds on to you and can feel how your pulse starts racing underneath your pyjamas. "I hope I'm not scaring you off."

"No, no you're not," you say in a hoarse voice, "not at all. I - I think about you all the time."

"You do?" He breathes hard, clearly not believing what he's hearing.

"Yeah," you merely nod and move your head a little closer to him while he does the same. "I'm in love with you too, Buck. Have been for quite some time."

With a serious look, he moves his hand from off your chest and up to your face where he brushes a finger over the delicate features of your cheekbone and down to your jawline. "I'm gonna kiss you now," he warns in a whisper and waits for you to give him a nod before he reaches his head forwards, finally claiming your mouth with his lips.

His hand snakes down the length of your spine and you press your entire front up against his hard chest and stomach while he caresses the small of your back, slipping his soft tongue inside your mouth. "God," he moans and gently grabs hold of your hips, pulling you impossibly close to him. "You make me feel whole again," he whispers against your skin and kisses a small line from your earlobe and down to the base of your clavicle. "What do you say sweetheart?" he mumbles and nibbles at your skin, "can I take you out?"

"Yeah, Buck, you can take me out," you squeeze his hand, and he smiles for the first time that evening, setting everything inside of you aflame.

He's finally smiling and it's because of you.

"I wanna do it the old-fashioned way," he says, beaming, "bring you flowers. Take you dancing. Show you how you're supposed to be treated."

You can't help but chuckle at his soft innocence. "You're an old man," you brush him over his hair, "nobody goes dancing anymore."

"I'll teach you," he chuckles back but lets it turn into a sharp hiss when he accidentally moves his broken elbow.

"That sounds lovely," you admit with a smile, excited at the prospect of having his hands on your hips while he tells you what to do, "- though I'm afraid we'll have to get that elbow sorted first if you want to manoeuvre me around on the dancefloor. I know you don't see the point in going but... med wing tomorrow morning?"

"Okay," he rolls his eyes with a laugh that makes your stomach go all warm and fuzzy. "If it gets me to go dancing with you just an hour earlier, it's worth the trip... Will you go with me?"

"Yeah, I'll go with you," you kiss his hand, and he chuckles so warmly your stomach lights up again. "I'll go with you always."

1 year ago

I Can Do More

Summary: Request! The team underestimates Y/N's strength until one day when her powers save them all.

Warnings: slight violence and mention of injuries

Word Count: 2717

a/n: You're basically the avatar in this fic. You're welcome :) lol

Masterlist

I Can Do More

"What am I supposed to do?" You asked as Steve finished explaining everyone's role for the next mission.

Tony and Sam were air support, meant to keep on eye on the perimeter and notify the ground teams of any surprises. Bucky and Nat were approaching the west entrance, Steve and Wanda the east, and finally Vision and Peter the north. The quinjet would be parked on the south side, where the building had no entrances.

"Guard the quinjet." Steve answered automatically.

"But, I really think I can help with more than just-" Your attempt at arguing for more responsibility was interrupted by nearly everyone in the room.

"Y/N, you're not ready." Steve's voice echoed louder than the rest, although nearly everyone murmured in agreement.

It was the same for every mission you went on. If it was a short mission, like the next one, you were meant to guard the jet. If it required multiple days in a hotel, you were on surveillance. No matter how simple the mission, you were basically told to "wait in the car" every single time.

You officially joined the avengers 8 months ago when you prevented a sinkhole- caused by a new Hydra weapon- from killing civilians in a small town in Europe. Despite only gaining more control since you began training with the team, almost none of them seemed to think you were capable of actually joining a mission.

"But, I've been training-" Again you were cut off.

"Trust me, it's better to wait until you've got complete control. Otherwise people could get hurt." Wanda's eyes seemed to hold a sadness as she spoke, but you weren't given time to further inquire.

"We leave in half an hour." Steve announced to the room before departing to make final preparations.

You slid down in your chair like a child, if they were going to treat you like one you might as well act like it. Hell, you're a fully grown adult capable of creating a tsunami, but everyone acts like you're a toddler who still needs training wheels.

With a final huff of annoyance, you got up to get ready for the mission. It felt like a waste to get fully dressed in the uncomfortable tac gear when you wouldn't even be leaving the jet, but you did so anyway. No need to give them more reasons to leave you behind.

The ride in the quinjet was filled with whispers, each sub-team going over their plan of attack. You sat in the back alone, watching as everyone else prepared to fight. As Steve landed the jet, you tried your hand one more time.

"Cap, are you sure I can't do anything?" You asked again, trying your best to not whine. To your surprise, Tony answered before Steve could finish his typical dad sigh.

"Y/N, right now all you need to do is stay here. Got it?" He sent you his patented glare before flying out the door. Sam at least had the decency to direct a sympathetic smile your way before following.

"He's right. Just wait for us to come back." Steve secured his shield before descending the ramp, Wanda at his side.

"We'll be back soon, doll." Bucky squeezed your hand before leaving. Unfortunately for you, not even the physical contact and pet name from your not-so-secret crush could lift your mood.

You and Bucky walked a fine line between friends and, well, more than friends. The flirty comments, pet names, and not so innocent touches were common place, yet the two of you still doubted the others feelings.

"Sorry, Y/N." Nat grimaced at leaving you behind. At least you had one of them on your side.

You watched as the rest of the team moved into position, leaving you to watch the feed Tony projected onto the monitors of the jet.

Each team of two flawlessly executed their plans, infiltrating the base at exactly the same time. Everything seemed to be going smoothly until all of the video feeds you had access to cut out.

"Tony, the video's gone. Is everything okay?" You tried to spot him or Sam from the ground outside the jet, but neither flyer was visible.

"Tony? Cap?" You asked into the comms again, panic slowly rising.

You were about to ask again when a sharp cry blasted through your ears. There was no way to be sure, but it sounded like Peter.

Without another thought, you ran from the quinjet towards the base. If your team was in trouble, then you couldn't just sit and watch.

You ran through the woods until the base was in clear view. Scanning your surroundings, you spotted three pairs of guards making rounds on the perimeter of the base. With a few simple hand movements, you knocked them out with various flying rocks.

After another quick scan, you made your way to the closest entrance on the West side of the building. Various guards were laying strewn about the area, dead or unconscious, you couldn't be sure.

The door creaked slightly as you opened it, but luckily nobody was waiting on the other side. Twirling your finger, you created a ball of air to float you down the corridors, preventing alerting anyone of your presence via footsteps.

It also made it easier for you to hear when Hydra agents were approaching. You incapacitated each agent with a swift bolt of lightning to the heart, easing them to the ground with pillows of air to prevent any noises from giving away your position.

You slowly made your way to the center of the base, listening intently for any sign of your team.

About 15 minutes, and 30 hydra agents later, you could hear Tony's familiar sarcasm.

"Well, if I could reach it, I wouldn't have asked you!" He whisper yelled.

You scoped out the room as best you could, but since Tony was talking it was easy to assume it was currently void of any enemy combatants.

"Tony! Sam!" You dropped to the ground in front of them, clearly surprising them with your entrance.

"Y/N! What the hell are you doing here?" Tony's volume rose slightly, but Sam was quick to shush him.

"The video feed went down and nobody was replying on comm's." You moved to untie him, but halted when he whisper yelled again.

"You're supposed to be in the quinjet! It's not safe in here." His glare only fed your anger, but you didn't have time to fight with him on this.

"No shit, you're tied up." Your response earned a snort from Sam and another glare from Tony.

Before you could move to untie him again, the doors swung open. You retreated to the shadows, again floating on a ball of air.

A group of twenty Hydra agents lead Steve, Bucky, Wanda, Nat, Vision, and Peter into the room. Wanda and Vision were both rendered unconscious. The rest had clearly taken a beating, but were awake. Steve's shield was thrown into the corner with Tony and Sam's suits, and Bucky's arm rendered immobile with an electromagnet.

The Hydra agents quickly tied up the rest of the team, leaving you to wonder what the hell happened that got everyone caught. It was easy for you to see that Tony and Sam were trying to clue the rest of the team as to your whereabouts, but with so many agents in the room they couldn't get the message across without giving you away to everyone.

With bated breath, you decided you needed a plan. First, you had to free everyone from their bindings, including Bucky's arm. Next, they needed their weapons. Then, you need an escape plan. If there are twenty agents in this room alone, getting out with such a large group was not going to be easy.

You looked around the room for anything that could help, eyes focusing on the skylights in the roof. Clearly, this room was not meant for holding prisoners.

With a plan in your head, it was time to act. Luckily, your tac suit is equipped with elemental weapons.

You reached for the stones in your belt that were sharpened to act as knives. With one hand, you weaved the stones around the room, cutting through the thick ropes binding the avengers. At the same time, you sent bolts of lightning through all the hydra agents in the room.

As soon as they fell, more agents were piling in. Following through the steps you outlined in your head, you created balls of air to carry the team's previously discarded armour and weapons to them. One whip like blast of air separated the magnet from Bucky's arm, rendering it operational again.

Both sides watched with varying expressions as you controlled the elements to free and arm your team. As more agents poured in through the various entrances, you shouted to Tony.

"Did you get what you came for?"

With wide eyes, the man nodded.

"Looks like we're out then." You flung rocks through the skylights, before creating balls of air for your team. Each member quickly flew through the new holes in the ceiling, escaping from the assault of bullets from the Hydra agents.

Once outside, you set down anyone who could walk, maintaining the balls of air for Vision and Wanda. You lead them toward the jet, signalling for the rest of the group to follow. As you ran from the base, you shot blasts of fire into the main gas lines, not turning back as the base exploded.

Once back to the quinjet, Steve immediately took off while you slowly lowered Wanda and Vision to the beds in the makeshift medbay onboard. Wanda appeared to be knocked unconscious from a blow to the head. The rest of the team watched in starstruck awe as you hooked her up to the vital machines, sighing with relief at a steady heartbeat.

Vision had some sort of device attached to the mind stone, appearing to put him into a coma like state. With careful movements, you used whip like motions to separate the device from his head, another sigh of relief escaping when he woke up.

"Wanda, where's Wanda?" He questioned immediately. You gestured behind him, where Wanda was recovering.

"Y/N..." Tony spoke first, eyes still wide. Steve was now looking at you as well, having set the course for the jet to return to the compound.

You turned to look at the rest of the team, each member wearing matching expressions of awe and surprise. Bucky's eyes looked the softest.

"Sit down." You commanded to them. They complied instantly, still shocked at everything that happened.

You grabbed the first aid kit, working your way through the various gashes and scrapes each avenger had received. You cleaned up wounds on Tony, Sam, Steve, Peter, and Nat before finally making your way toward Bucky.

You took a step toward him, stumbling slightly from exhaustion.

"Carefull, doll." He caught you, helping you into a chair. You closed your eyes briefly, humming in agreement to Bucky's command.

When you opened them again, everyone- barring Vision, Wanda, and Peter, who was now taking a nap- was still staring at you.

"What?" You grimaced, slightly uncomfortable with all of the attention.

"What? What!" Bucky exclaimed incredulously from next to you. "Y/N, you just single handedly saved all of us! From at least 50 agents!"

The rest of the team nodded, still at a loss for words.

"Well, I told you I was ready." You huffed, still miffed from their dismissal of your abilities.

"Damn, straight. Should've let you in first." Sam quipped, eyes beaming at you.

"Y/N, I'm so sorry." Steve's apology rang clearly through the near silent jet. Tony followed immediately with an apology of his own.

"Me too. Kid, I'm sorry we doubted you." Tony stared at the ground, guilt radiating off him in waves.

"I, for one, never doubted you." Nat cut in. "I didn't, however, know you could do that." She smirked, eyes twinkling with pride.

"Thanks, Nat. And apologies accepted." You smiled at everyone, too exhausted to hold a grudge. "But, I think I need a nap." You yawned through the words, leaning into Bucky and instantly falling asleep.

-

When the jet landed it jostled you awake. You were still leaning against Bucky, his metal arm wrapped protectively around you while his flesh hand ran through your hair.

"Hi." You gave him a sleepy smile, blinking repeatedly to wake up. "Oh!" You suddenly remembered Wanda being unconscious. "Do you need me to get Wanda inside?"

You turned to look at her, surprised to see she had already woken up. Even more surprising, she immediately embraced you in a hug.

"Thank you. Clearly you have complete control." She gave you a small smile.

"Of course, anything to help you guys." You smiled at the team, finally feeling as if you were one of them.

Everyone left the jet, grumbling about food and showers. You and Bucky walked slowly behind them, arms swinging next to each other.

Suddenly, Bucky grabbed your hand, pulling you to a stop just outside of the jet's entrance.

"Y/N, you fell asleep before I got to say it, but thank you. And, I'm sorry too. I should've stuck up for you. Clearly you're more than capable of helping us on missions." He spoke clearly, but refused to make eye contact.

"Buck, it's in the past. You all know now, so I'll never have to babysit the jet again." You smiled happily, grin widening when he chuckled.

"I mean it though. Thank you... Watching you was incredible. I don't know how long it took you to plan everything, but clearly you can think on your feet because we weren't in there for more than five minutes before you had us flying through the ceiling." He laughed slightly, clearly still in awe of your powers.

"It was nothing. Any of you would've figured out a way to free everyone." You shyly muttered back, still unused to the praise.

"No, Y/N. What you did was amazing. Yeah, maybe we could've found a way out, but you freed us and nobody was seriously injured. Plus, you still managed to complete the mission." He finally met your eye, clearly waiting for you to just accept the compliment.

"Thank you." You still smiled shyly, but there was no use in arguing.

"You amaze me more and more each day." He whispered, so quietly you almost missed it.

"What do you mean? You've never seen me use my powers before?" You furrowed your brow, tilting your head in curiosity.

"Christ, you're adorable." His hand moved to cup your cheek, thumb brushing over the soft skin. "Even without your powers, you amaze me. You've always been the kindest person here. Always willing to help someone, even if you're in the middle of something yourself. You're beautiful, and smart, and funny, and just... incredible." His words trailed off, voice thick with emotion.

"Bucky..." You looked at him with wide eyes, lip quivering from trying to control your own emotions.

"Can I kiss you now, doll?" he asked, moving even closer. You nodded, breathing out a soft reply before closing the distance between you.

You could've spent forever kissing him under the stars if the sound of someone clearing their throat hadn't disrupted you.

You broke apart to find the one and only Steve Rogers staring at the ground with a blush on his cheeks.

"What do you want, punk?" Bucky held you close, eyeing Steve with a playful glare.

"I, uh, I left my shield on the jet." He gestured behind the two of you to the entrance you were partially blocking.

Wordlessly, you stepped to the side, pulling Bucky with you. Steve nodded in thanks, still blushing as he boarded the jet.

"Well, that moment was officially ruined." Bucky sighed, hand running through his hair.

"I think it was pretty perfect." You smiled, pressing a quick kiss to his lips. He groaned when you pulled away.

"C'mon, Sergeant. I wanna watch a movie and cuddle." You pouted, pulling his arm until he followed you.

"Anything you want, doll. It's yours."

From the jet, Steve smiled to himself, knowing Bucky would follow you across the world if you asked.

Permanent:

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Marvel:

@leyannrae

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@justreadingficsdontmindme

1 year ago

okay so i was listening to spare me the details by offspring and the first line is “my girlfriend, my dumb donut” and i just instantly thought buck definitely refer to chaotic dumbass reader as my dumb donut. it’s canon. rest of the song is not relevant

Bag of Tricks Masterlist

“Stop that.” Bucky chides as you scoop a finger of icing into your mouth, “Expiration date’s gonna kill you.”

“Only if I let it.” Is the muffled response as your shove most of your face into the canister.

He’s been on your case about eating old food for as long as you’ve known him, but you haven’t died yet… so, Bucky: zero. you: five gallons of milk, half a dozen cupcakes, and a bag of semi-gray salami. 

“I was only queasy for like three minutes after the salami.” You remind him, feeling a little sad that you’re getting near the end of the pilfered dessert. Then, a pause as you peer inside. “Huh. There’s something… green.”

Bucky snatches it from your hand, looks, and launches it clear across the room. “MOLD.” He shouts, as the can clatters into the living room. “It’s mold!” He scrubs his eyes with the heel of his palm, “You’re– God! I swear if it weren’t for me you’d be dead.” Bucky rambles on, leaning back in his chair and throws his hands up, “Gotta use my brain for both of us– you’re so fucking stupid. You— you’re such a fucking donut.”

“A what?” The corner of your mouth is housing a tiny dollop of buttercream and you lick it off. 

“A donut.” Bucky retorts, “Your head. It’s fucking missing something in the middle. Like a brain.” 

Your eyebrow quirks, “If I’m the donut… does that make you the donut hole? You know? Cause you’re like, my brain?”

Bucky groans, “No.” But you ignore him.

“Aw. You’re my brain, Barnes. You fit so well in my little donuthole. A perfect fit. In the hole. The little hole inside me. My hole.”

Bucky slams his head into the table with a whimper, wishing he had let you eat the mold after all.

1 year ago
happycat547 - 🌞🌗⭐️

Silent

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Summary: People think you talk too much so you fall silent.

Pairing: Bucky x Reader, Avengers x Reader (platonic)

Characters: Tony Stark, Natasha Romanoff, Sam Wilson, Wanda Maximoff, Clint Barton, Steve Rogers

Warnings: angst, self-doubts, the reader used to talk too much and now she’s silent, mentions of torture/imprisonment/experiments, comforting, fluff

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“Does she always have to talk so much? I can’t believe someone can hold a speech over pancakes. Is she never tired of hearing her own voice?” Standing in the doorframe of the common room you clasp one hand over your mouth.

You believed Bucky enjoyed your conversations. Since he moved in two months ago you tried to be a friend, a companion he can talk to when Steve is not around.

Never in your worst nightmares would you have imagined Bucky could be annoyed by your small talk.

“Listen, Buck. She likes to talk about a things, maybe explains too much but that’s part of her personality.” Clint chuckles at Sam’s words.

“You mean she can chew your ear off about her latest shopping trip.”

“Barton, that’s not funny. Y/N tried to explain how credit cards and electronic article surveillance work to him. Last time he went shopping he got lost, didn’t know how to pay.” Sam throws in. “Maybe it was a long conversation, but Y/N meant well.”

“I know, Sam.” Clint sighs. “Sometimes she just won’t stop. I had to fake to go to the restrooms last time.”

“Guys, seriously. Stop talking shit! Y/N is not talking too much. Only as men tend to only grunt or throw ten words per day at each other doesn’t mean a girl talks too much.”

Natasha slams her fist onto the kitchen counter. “She’s kind, nice, and smart. All Y/N tried was to help Barnes.”

“Exactly.” Wanda purses her lips, glaring at Clint. She’s challenging the archer. Daring him to say another word about you. “Now back to breakfast. Who’s on duty?”

No one recognized you entered and left the room after Wanda started to make breakfast for everyone…

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