bruisedboys

[bruisedboys]

guys I bought dune (the book) because I’ve wanted to read it for such a long time but I’ve been worried I’m too dumb for it😭 which is sort of silly so hopefully I prove myself wrong? will keep you updated lmao

[bruisedboys]

What would he think if he knew you only came on this date as an act of desperation? That you’d been so lovelorn, so pathetically hung up on him, that you’d gone out with the first person who made themselves available to you? 

UMM YEAH. THIS IS SO GOOD MAE THANK YOU

blanket fort - “thank you for picking me up- i know it’s late.” with fwb!sirius maybe? I’m thinking like.. you’re not together but you call him cos you need him and he comes right away <33 do with that what u will hehe

Ahhh thank you mal <3

cw: alcohol, attempted sa (mentioned, not in the scene)

fwb!Sirius x fem!reader ♡ 969 words

You like it a lot when Sirius calls you his. It’s usually by accident. He calls you lots of things—gorgeous, sweetness, dollface—but never in the same tone as when that incriminating my slips out. My darling, he’d said once, teasing, trying to get you into the shower with him (it worked). Another time, kissing overstimulated tears off your face before they could fall onto his pillowcase, my lovely girl. Sometimes, you think it’s a little pathetic of you—not very feminist, that’s for sure. You like being independent. You aren’t anybody’s. You shouldn't want to belong to someone. But you do, and not just anyone; you want to belong to Sirius. 

So it’s possible that it’s only wishful thinking, when cool fingers brush the hair from your face and you think—you hope—you catch a murmured, “Oh, my girl.” 

Regardless of what you may or may not hear, you’d know the feel of that hand anywhere. 

Sirius is waiting when you unstick your lashes, looking down at you with an amused uptilt to his perfect mouth. He pushes more hair away from your eyes. The surface of the restaurant table feels nice against your cheek. 

“What happened to you, hm?” 

“I don’t know,” you reply drowsily. “What happened to you?” 

Sirius huffs out a laugh. “Well, I was sitting at home thinking about this bird.” 

“Gross. Is she pretty?” 

“Stunning. I figured I’d call her to see if she was thinking about me too, so I did, and do you want to know what she had the gall to tell me?” 

You put a hand under your cheek, angling your face to see him better. You are intensely curious. “What?” 

“She said that if I wanted to fuck her, I had to come and pick her up at the fancy hotel downtown. So, here I am.” He gives you a once-over. “I don’t think we’re going to be fucking, though.” 

You frown. “No?” 

“No, sweetness. Sorry.” 

“Why not?” 

“I’ll tell you about it tomorrow.” He strokes your cheek, smiling in a way that makes you feel all melty soft. “Hey, stay put for me a minute.” 

Staying put feels like all you know how to do. You assume Sirius goes somewhere, but you don’t notice. You blink, and he’s back in front of you, a glass of water in his hand where there wasn’t one before. He gives your shoulder a pat. 

“C’mon, sit up.” 

“M’okay,” you say, even as you do as he tells you. Your head spins once there’s no table to stabilize it. “I don’t need anything to drink.” 

Sirius’ eyebrow flicks up. “Who says it’s for you?” 

“Oh.” You’re strangely put out. “It’s not?” 

“No, it is.” He cracks, grinning. “Just have a little for me, babe. For my peace of mind.” 

You whine as he puts the glass to your lips, but you don’t have much choice. The water presses insistently at your mouth. Sirius holds the side of your face as you take it down, so that’s nice, at least. 

You breathe out after swallowing. You hadn’t noticed your throat hurting before, but it does feel better now. Sirius wipes a dribble from the side of your chin like it’s nothing. 

“I asked you to come here,” you say, “didn’t I.” 

Sirius’ lips quirk. “Demanded was more like it.” You put a hand over your eyes, and he tsks, laughing. “What, lovely, was it a bad night?” 

“Bad date,” you moan. “So boring. Worst conversationalist in the world, I could swear he was trying to get me liquored up.” The smile fades from Sirius’ face. You like this, strangely. You want his sympathy. “He’s staying here, you know. That’s why we met at the hotel for dinner, I was just too stupid to think of it.” 

“He tried to take you up to his room?” he asks. 

You make a wry sound. “Yeah, but he didn’t seem to like when I said I was too drunk to do anything.” 

Sirius skims you over. You don’t know what he’s looking for, or if he finds it, but his expression is uncharacteristically humorless when he nods. “Good girl.” 

You eye him. “Because I’m not having sex with other people?” 

“Because you’re looking out for yourself.” 

You sit with that for a while. You wonder if Sirius would be angry if you had gone up. Sober, that is. You wonder how he’d react if you told him about it later, what he’d think of you sleeping with someone who wasn’t him for a change. What would he think if he knew you only came on this date as an act of desperation? That you’d been so lovelorn, so pathetically hung up on him, that you’d gone out with the first person who made themselves available to you? 

Fortunately, you still have enough of your wits about you to know you’d hate yourself for asking. 

“So,” you say instead, “are you going to take me home now?”

Sirius grins. “I suppose I am.” 

You muster your best grin in reply. “I know how you love to take me home.” 

“Shush, lightweight. Drink your water, then we’ll go.” 

You pick the glass up to appease him. But when you only have a few more sips before leaning your head on his shoulder, Sirius doesn’t complain. 

“Can I ask you something weird?” you murmur. 

“Nothing’s ever stopped you before.”

“You’ll do something for me?” 

“Hm, depends.” Sirius is teasing, but when you fall silent his tone gentles. “What is it?” 

“Call me something nice?” 

You shut your eyes. Just inebriated enough to ask, just sober enough to be embarrassed. You’re sure he’s going to laugh at you. 

Sirius’ kiss lands softly atop your hair. “I’ll call you whatever you want,” he says, in that tone, that soft, incriminating tone, “my sweetheart.”

[bruisedboys]

hii!! if you’re taking requests still for the marvel event… could i request endgame with yelena and a fem reader with the prompt "five more minutes"? lena deserves some peaceful resting time : )

hi angel, thank u for your request!! hope u enjoy and sorry this is so short xx

yelena belova x fem!reader, 0.4k words

Yelena’s fast asleep next to you in the cab. You’d rather die than wake her — she rarely ever gets a good night's sleep, often plagued by nightmares, and she looks so peaceful like this, her features softened by sleep — but the driver is pulling up to your apartment now and you don't want to make him wait.

You jostle Yelena where she’s slouched into your side. “Lena,” you whisper. “We’re home.”

Yelena grumbles something incoherent and slouches further into your side, her cheek pressing into your shoulder. You huff. How she manages to be stubborn even while she’s asleep is beyond you.

The car stops next to your place. You twist in your seat and take Yelena’s face in your hand, slotting your fingers under her jaw gently. She’s unbelievably pretty like this, her lashes all fluttery and her lips pushed into a pout. You brush a short lock of blonde hair away from her face with your thumb.

“C’mon, wake up,” you murmur to her. “We're here.”

Yelena groans, blinking her eyes open, her movements languid. She meets your gaze sleepily. “Five more minutes?” She asks, voice scratchy from sleep.

You laugh softly and shake your head. “You can have five more hours once we get inside. Or more,” you say.

Yelena seems to like that promise. You get out of the car, tugging her with you, and thank the driver. He drives away and you attempt to get inside your front door with Yelena leaning half her weight on you. You manage to get her into your bedroom, before she completely collapses sideways on your bed.

You lean over her. “You’ve gotta take off your makeup, honey,” you remind her gently, hoping to soften the blow.

It doesn’t work. Yelena groans like you've stabbed her and covers her face with her hands.

You laugh, partly at her dramatics, and partly ‘cos you love her so much it makes you a bit giddy. “You want me to do it for you?”

It’s how you end up in Yelena’s lap, hands on her warm face, carefully rubbing the eyeliner from her eyes with a washcloth. She’s half asleep underneath you, her eyes shut to accommodate for your hands, and her chest heaving with soft, slow breaths. The only way you know she’s still awake is from her hands where they rest on your hips, one thumb drawing slow, lazy circles into the dip of your waist.

When you’re done she thanks you with a sleepy kiss, and the second her head hits the pillows she’s fast asleep. You spend a long while afterwards watching her and wondering how you got so lucky.

[bruisedboys]

VENOM

grabbing them by their waist and tugging them closer to deepen the kiss

^ maybe it catches the other off guard and they let out a little noise of surprise (much to the amusement of their partner)

this is bucky idc!!! yeah

love you for this aerial tysm mwahh

bucky barnes x fem!reader, 0.7k words

Bucky’s cornered you in the bathroom again. You weren’t expecting it — you’d been finishing up brushing your teeth when he appeared in the doorway, waited until you’d rinsed your mouth, and then pounced on you.

You’re not sure if he has ulterior motives (you wouldn’t mind if he did), or if he’s just feeling clingy again. He gets into these moods sometimes when all he wants to do is hold you. You can't say you mind.

“Buck,” you say, breathless though he hasn’t done anything yet other than get his hands on your hips and spin you around to face him. Which is, regrettably, enough on its own to make you flustered. You press a hand to his firm chest. “Let me go.”

Bucky shakes his head. “Not a chance, doll. You look so pretty right now, you know that?”

Your tongue turns to lead in your mouth. You try to speak but it’s like someone’s poured honey down your throat.

“I’m in my pyjamas,” you manage to say lamely.

Bucky looks at you like you’re crazy. “So?” He leans closer, pressing you against the sink with his hips, his body heat soaking into yours and setting your skin aflame. Your heart pumps frantically as Bucky gets closer. “Can I kiss you?”

You blink rather rapidly. You’re not sure whether you love or hate him right now. He’s being awfully seductive, and you don’t know if he’s doing it on purpose but he probably is. You have a feeling he knows exactly what he’s doing to you. Still, you don’t have it in you to protest. You nod.

“Okay,” you whisper.

Bucky doesn’t waste any time in pressing his mouth to yours. He’s in a mood, clearly, because his kiss is far more heated than you’re expecting. Your lips part under the pressure of his and Bucky sighs against your mouth, his hands hot on your hips. Your heart hammers in your chest so hard it almost aches.

You’re so caught up in the kiss you don’t notice his vibranium hand climbing up your ribcage, searching. He fits it to the dip in your waist and, with no warning, tugs you closer. You’re not expecting it — you let out a surprised squeal that quickly gets swallowed up by Bucky’s mouth.

Your boyfriend grins into the kiss and chuckles in this low, lazy way that makes your stomach flip upside down.

“Sorry,” he murmurs, grinning like crazy. His voice is low, a soft rasp to it that makes you dizzy. He pulls back half an inch and drags his thumb over your waist like it’s supposed to soothe you, but all it does is make you ten times dizzier. “Surprised you, did I?”

You think you might pass out. You’re glad he’s holding you so close, or else you’re sure you’d collapse onto the tiles.

“You’re being awful,” you tell him.

Bucky’s lip quirks and he gives you this quizzical look that drives you crazy for more reasons than one. “Am I?”

“Yes,” you insist. You puff your cheeks out, a poor attempt to cool your face. “What’s your problem?”

Bucky laughs fondly, as if you’re not about to become a melted puddle of a girl in his arms. He lifts his good arm to hold your jaw, eyes and thumb tracing a line from your chin to the space below your ear. You feel hot as a furnace under his gaze. He looks at you like you’re everything he’s ever wanted. You feel much the same about him.

“My problem,” he says, pressing his forehead to yours and locking gazes with you, “is you’re so lovely it makes me feel sick.”

You start to feel a little sick yourself. You roll your eyes, ‘cos if you don’t, you’ll cry with how much you love him.

“You’re such a flirt,” you tell him. Any heat intended is lost to your regrettably lovesick tone.

Bucky grins, pleased. “You love it.”

You’re about to lie and say you don’t, but Bucky’s kissing you again before you can get the words out. It’s just as well. You don’t think you’re physically capable of lying to him when he’s looking at you like that.

[bruisedboys]

VENOM

grabbing them by their waist and tugging them closer to deepen the kiss

^ maybe it catches the other off guard and they let out a little noise of surprise (much to the amusement of their partner)

this is bucky idc!!! yeah

love you for this aerial tysm mwahh

bucky barnes x fem!reader, 0.7k words

Bucky’s cornered you in the bathroom again. You weren’t expecting it — you’d been finishing up brushing your teeth when he appeared in the doorway, waited until you’d rinsed your mouth, and then pounced on you.

You’re not sure if he has ulterior motives (you wouldn’t mind if he did), or if he’s just feeling clingy again. He gets into these moods sometimes when all he wants to do is hold you. You can't say you mind.

“Buck,” you say, breathless though he hasn’t done anything yet other than get his hands on your hips and spin you around to face him. Which is, regrettably, enough on its own to make you flustered. You press a hand to his firm chest. “Let me go.”

Bucky shakes his head. “Not a chance, doll. You look so pretty right now, you know that?”

Your tongue turns to lead in your mouth. You try to speak but it’s like someone’s poured honey down your throat.

“I’m in my pyjamas,” you manage to say lamely.

Bucky looks at you like you’re crazy. “So?” He leans closer, pressing you against the sink with his hips, his body heat soaking into yours and setting your skin aflame. Your heart pumps frantically as Bucky gets closer. “Can I kiss you?”

You blink rather rapidly. You’re not sure whether you love or hate him right now. He’s being awfully seductive, and you don’t know if he’s doing it on purpose but he probably is. You have a feeling he knows exactly what he’s doing to you. Still, you don’t have it in you to protest. You nod.

“Okay,” you whisper.

Bucky doesn’t waste any time in pressing his mouth to yours. He’s in a mood, clearly, because his kiss is far more heated than you’re expecting. Your lips part under the pressure of his and Bucky sighs against your mouth, his hands hot on your hips. Your heart hammers in your chest so hard it almost aches.

You’re so caught up in the kiss you don’t notice his vibranium hand climbing up your ribcage, searching. He fits it to the dip in your waist and, with no warning, tugs you closer. You’re not expecting it — you let out a surprised squeal that quickly gets swallowed up by Bucky’s mouth.

Your boyfriend grins into the kiss and chuckles in this low, lazy way that makes your stomach flip upside down.

“Sorry,” he murmurs, grinning like crazy. His voice is low, a soft rasp to it that makes you dizzy. He pulls back half an inch and drags his thumb over your waist like it’s supposed to soothe you, but all it does is make you ten times dizzier. “Surprised you, did I?”

You think you might pass out. You’re glad he’s holding you so close, or else you’re sure you’d collapse onto the tiles.

“You’re being awful,” you tell him.

Bucky’s lip quirks and he gives you this quizzical look that drives you crazy for more reasons than one. “Am I?”

“Yes,” you insist. You puff your cheeks out, a poor attempt to cool your face. “What’s your problem?”

Bucky laughs fondly, as if you’re not about to become a melted puddle of a girl in his arms. He lifts his good arm to hold your jaw, eyes and thumb tracing a line from your chin to the space below your ear. You feel hot as a furnace under his gaze. He looks at you like you’re everything he’s ever wanted. You feel much the same about him.

“My problem,” he says, pressing his forehead to yours and locking gazes with you, “is you’re so lovely it makes me feel sick.”

You start to feel a little sick yourself. You roll your eyes, ‘cos if you don’t, you’ll cry with how much you love him.

“You’re such a flirt,” you tell him. Any heat intended is lost to your regrettably lovesick tone.

Bucky grins, pleased. “You love it.”

You’re about to lie and say you don’t, but Bucky’s kissing you again before you can get the words out. It’s just as well. You don’t think you’re physically capable of lying to him when he’s looking at you like that.

[bruisedboys]

hii ! i lovee ur blog and ur fics 🩶 i love that you specify ur writings on fluff themes as well i loveeeeeee it i neeeed it

hiii omg thank you so much!!!🤍 I love love writing fluff, and also I’m no good at smut and angst lmaoo

[bruisedboys]

dead of the night — bucky barnes

bucky calls you, his loyal assistant, in the middle of the night, asking for your help. he’s got four assassins with him and they need a place to hide. you’re too in love with him to say no. SPOILER WARNING!! plot spoilers for thunderbolts

note: disclaimer guys I totally made some stuff up to make the scenario make sense lol hope u can forgive me

thunderbolts!bucky x fem!reader, fluff, kissing, one bed trope kinda, 4k words

You wake to the shrill sound of your phone ringing. At first you think it’s your morning alarm, and wonder why it feels like you’ve only been asleep a few hours. It takes blinking yourself awake to realise it’s still dark out, the street outside your apartment dead quiet. Your phone continues to ring, piercing through the quiet of the night, the screen lit up and flooding the corner of your room in white. You groan. Who on earth is calling you in the middle of the night? 

You sit up dizzily and grab for your phone. You stare blankly at the bright white screen, blinking hard until your eyes adjust and you can see the name that pops up. 

Bucky Barnes. 

You blink at your phone. Your boss? Well, he’s not really your boss, but you are his assistant, and you’re not really sure whether you’re friends or something else entirely, so he might as well be. 

You hit the answer button. 

“Bucky?” You’ve long passed the stage of calling him Congressman Barnes. Besides, any ounce of professionalism left between the two of you has probably now turned to dust, given the ungodly hour of his call.

“Hey.” He sounds tired, his voice strained. “Hey, I’m so sorry, doll, I know it’s late.” 

No kidding. You ignore the fact that he’s called you doll, ‘cos if you think about it too long you’ll be here all night. ”What’s the matter?” You ask. “It’s one in the morning, Bucky.” 

“I know, I’m sorry, but it’s urgent. I need your help.” 

His words make you sit up straighter. Bucky’s been, for lack of better words, distracted lately. On edge, like he’s been waiting for something to happen. He’s been continuously disappearing at important events, and he keeps taking mysterious calls in hushed tones. You hope this has got nothing to do with the call he got from Valentina’s assistant (Mel, you think her name is) last night. He only told you about it because he’d wanted you to cover for him today while he “took care of something,” in his own, ominous words. He’s been MIA all day and you haven’t heard from him until now.

Somehow, you think this has got everything to do with the call from Mel. 

“Are you okay?” You ask on instinct.

“I’m okay, yeah, I’m fine,” he says, brushing you off. “We, uh.. we just need somewhere to hole up for the night.” 

Your brain ticks. “Hold on, we?” 

You can almost hear him wince on the other end of the line. As if on cue, you pick up some muffled voices in the background. A man’s rough voice followed by a woman’s smoother one — and is that a Russian accent? What has he gotten himself into? 

“There's, uh, five of us,” Bucky says, like that makes it any better. 

There’s a long beat of silence. You sit in the dark, still half foggy with sleep, waiting for your brain to catch up with what he’s telling you. He … wants to bring strangers to your place? To what, hide? From who? You’re dumbfounded.

“I— what?” Is all you can manage. 

There’s another short silence, and then Bucky must realise how ridiculous he sounds, because he starts to backtrack. “I’m sorry,” he says suddenly. “I shouldn’t have called, I’ll just—“ 

“No, wait,” you interrupt before you can stop yourself. For reasons unbeknownst to you, you find yourself wanting to help. You trust him, and know he’d never do anything to hurt you. Whoever these people are who’re with him must really need your help. And who else can he call, anyway? “It’s alright, I can help. Come over, okay? How far away are you?” 

Twenty minutes, as it turns out. You spend the time making your apartment and yourself look somewhat presentable, less for your visitors’ sake than your own, and because it’s Bucky.

Bucky, who’s been to your apartment three times now. Once when he got you flowers for your birthday. Another time when you’d mixed up your laptops, and accidentally come home from the office with his instead of yours in your work bag. (He’d come round to pick it up and you’d cleaned the whole place, even though he only stood in the doorway for five minutes.) And the most recent time, when you’d gotten too drunk at the bar after work, and Bucky had walked you home, deposited you in your bed, and locked the door behind him. You don’t remember most of it, but you do remember feeling so so in love with him it made you feel sick. Or maybe that was the whiskey. You doubt it. 

You’re tossing the trash from your takeout dinner in the bin, and trying not to think about how you felt that night, when there’s a knock on the door. Your phone dings on the counter, a text from Bucky. 

It’s me. 

You laugh to yourself. He can be so accidentally ominous sometimes. You cross the living room to the door and open it. 

Five people stand behind it, all in varying states of disarray. Bucky’s at the front, probably the least beat up looking, though his jacket seems to be torn in some places. Two women (girls? They don’t look very much older than you), one with a blunt blonde bob, and one brunette with pretty eyes, both looking a bit worse for wear. One very tall, older man in a red getup that makes him look like Santa Claus - it’s absurd, but somehow you feel even more absurd in your plaid pajama pants. And bringing up the rear is… John Walker? 

“Um, hi?” You say to the group at large. When Bucky said we, you didn’t expect John Walker, of all people, to show up. You try not to stare. “What can I do for you?” 

The blonde girl opens her mouth, looking amused, but Bucky beats her to it. “Funny,” he says bluntly. Then, softer, “Can we come in?” 

You share a look. Bucky has a very intense default gaze, but it seems to soften whenever he looks at you. And right now, he’s looking at you like I’m tired, I need help, just let us in please and I’ll explain. 

You step back with little objection. Something about the way he seems to say trust me with just one look — it gets you every time. If he was a serial killer, you’d surely be dead by now. 

“Alright,” you say. “Wipe your shoes, please.” 

Everyone files into your living room. It’s not a huge space but it’s enough. Walker closes the door behind them. No one sits down. 

“Who is this, again?” The brunette girl asks Bucky, breaking the silence. You assume she means you. 

“We work together. She’s my assistant,” Bucky explains, throwing you an apologetic, somewhat strained, look. “Y/N.” 

“Hello,” you say awkwardly. 

They all just stare at you. You know what they’re thinking. Why on earth would Bucky, former winter soldier, avenger, and now congressman, bring them to his assistant’s place in the middle of the night as if it was a safe house? You’re asking yourself the exact same thing. 

“Y/N, this is Ava, Yelena, Alexei, and John.” Bucky names them off, pointing them out to you as he does. “They— I mean, we just need a place to stay until morning.”

“Remind me again why we couldn’t just go to yours?” Walker pipes up, addressing Bucky. You hate to agree, but you were just about to ask the same question. 

“Valentina’s watching my place,” Bucky explains. “She knows by now that I’ve got you guys with me, she’ll have her people on us in no time if we go to mine.” 

This only confuses you further. Valentina is … watching his house? This is not what you signed up for when you applied for a job as an assistant — it seems both you and Bucky are in over your heads. Though maybe you should’ve expected it, Bucky being a former Avenger and all.

The others seem to understand Bucky’s explanation far better than you do, and they all look to you expectantly. 

You look at the group of strangers, then at Bucky, then back at the strangers. They’re all standing there rather awkwardly. At their best, they’d probably be the toughest looking group you’ve ever seen, but right now they look dead beat, covered in bruises, dark bags under their eyes, and you suddenly feel very sorry for them.

“I— yeah, okay,” you say. They’re already in your living room, already know where you live, what’s it matter now? “You can stay for the night. Make yourselves at home, guys. There’s water in the fridge and the bathroom is down the hall to the left.” 

The brunette — Ava, Bucky called her — gives you a tight smile. “Thanks,” she says, and collapses on your sofa. 

The others follow suit, though Walker stays standing with his arms crossed. 

Pleasantries over, you grab Bucky’s arm and tug him down the hallway. He follows willingly, though you don’t give him much choice. You end up in your bedroom, where you corner him. 

“Bucky, what’s going on?” You whisper harshly.  “Who are those people? Why would Valentina be watching your place? And why is John Walker here?” 

You’re so busy bombarding him with questions that you don’t notice the way he’s holding his arm, not until you’ve finished speaking. Your eyes drop to his forearm. The fabric of his jacket has been slashed open, and there’s blood all over the sleeve. 

“Oh,” you say stupidly, then even more so, “Bucky, you’re bleeding.” 

Bucky grimaces. “I know, doll.” 

You grab his arm, forgoing politeness, and hold it up to your face. 

“It’s looks bad,” you say, forgetting you’re not supposed to care about him as much as you do.

You look up and find your face inches from his, his arm clutched between you. You suddenly feel very hot.

“Let’s, um,” you flounder for a few seconds, flustered not only by everything that’s happened in the last half hour but also his closeness, and the look on his face. “I have a first aid kit in the bathroom, I think. Come on.” 

You guide him out of your room and across the hallway into the bathroom. You forget to ask why he’s bought a hoard of what look like trained assassins into your home, and force him to sit on the lip of the bathtub, pushing him down by the shoulders. He scrapes hair out of his face with his metal arm and looks up at you where you’re rummaging through the cupboard above the sink. 

“Y/N, I’m—“ 

“Don’t say you’re fine,” you interrupt. He shuts his mouth and you go on, “Are any of your friends hurt?” 

Bucky pulls a face. “They’re not really my friends,” he says. “And no, none of them are hurt, they’re just tired.” 

You nod, accepting his answer for the meanwhile, even though it only opens up about a million more questions. A moment later you finally find what you’re looking for, a red and white first aid kit tucked away at the back of the cupboard, collecting dust.

You move to stand in front of Bucky, opening up the kit and setting it on the toilet lid. 

“Show me?” You stick your hand out for his wounded arm and he gives it to you with no objection. 

You hold his wrist and carefully push his sleeve up over the wound, revealing a harsh cut across the length of his forearm. On closer inspection, it’s not horribly deep, the blood only makes it look that way. 

Still, you frown. “How did you manage this?” You ask him. 

Bucky looks for a second like he’s reliving whatever happened to cause such an injury. He searches for the words, then, “I sort of flipped a truck?” he says. “Long story.” 

Flipped a truck? Whose truck? You raise your eyebrows at him but ultimately decide it's fruitless to keep asking questions, at least until he decides to explain what’s going on. 

“Right… I’m gonna clean it, okay?” You drop his arm to pull out a bottle of rubbing alcohol from the first aid kit, unscrewing the lid and dabbing the liquid onto a cotton pad. “It might hurt.” 

Bucky looks like he’s trying not to roll his eyes. “I’m tough, doll.” 

You clean his wound as best you can. You only sort of know what you’re doing, a half remembered first aid course you took in college sitting at the back of your mind, but Bucky doesn’t protest. Actually, he doesn’t make a sound at all, just watches you with those dark eyes. It makes you nervous, like he’s looking right through you and reading all your inner thoughts. The worst part is, he’s always looking at you like this, like he can read your mind, to the point where you’re pretty sure he knows all your secrets. Like how you’re desperately in love with him and have no idea what to do about it. 

You continue your work, quiet. The silence is heavy, a sort of unspoken feeling floating between the two of you like a white hot star. You want to reach out and grab it, see if Bucky will follow, but you keep your mouth shut. 

You’re unraveling a roll of bandage to wrap his arm when you finally speak. “So, are you gonna tell me why you brought a bunch of assassins into my home In the dead of the night?” You laugh at your own joke, but the look on Bucky’s face stops you short. “They’re… they’re not assassins, are they?” 

Bucky purses his lips. “Well, you’re not very far off…” 

He launches into an explanation, finally. First, of what Valentina’s really been up to. Project Sentry — putting a gold ribbon and a promise of a better life on a special super serum, and testing it on the most vulnerable subjects she could find. Then, how she rushed to eliminate all proof of the project, including the four people in your living room (who turn out to actually be trained assassins, though Bucky promises none of them will hurt you), and Bob, one of the test subjects. 

Then he tells you about how he tracked Mel’s phone to a site in the middle of nowhere, where he found Yelena, Ava, John and Alexei in a “predicament,” and “saved their asses,” as he puts it. He spares you the details, but it's how he sliced his arm open, and why they’re now retreating to yours to regain their strength before going after Bob. Bob, who’s vulnerable but much stronger than he probably knows, and who Valentina now has in her clutches. 

By the time he’s done explaining, you’ve realised how much bigger this is than just you and Bucky. For days this has all been happening without your knowledge and Bucky has been dealing with it all. You’re not annoyed, you get why he didn’t tell you. Still, you wish he’d asked for your help earlier. 

“So, you’re going after Bob?” You ask, carefully tucking in the end of the bandage. You spent half of his explanation just staring at him, hardly believing what he was saying, and the other half wrapping his arm, trying to believe what he was saying, no matter how ludicrous it sounded. 

Bucky nods. “I guess so. He could be dangerous in Valentina’s hands, you know?” 

You nod back. “Yeah, I get it. Won’t it be dangerous, though? Going after him? 

You say it before you’ve thought about it. You realise right after that it makes you sound like you care far too much about the man sitting in front of you, who’s really just the guy you file documents for. You don’t owe him anything. 

Bucky smiles. “Don’t worry, doll. We’ve got four assassins on our side, five if you count me.” 

You frown. “You’re not an assassin.” 

You don’t care what he’s done in the past, you can’t see him as anything else but lovely. He’s brave, kind, and so thoughtful it aches. 

Still, Bucky shrugs. “Used to be.” 

You pack up the first aid kit and put it away. Bucky watches you, his gaze like a burning fire on the back of your head. When you’re done cleaning up, he stands up and crosses the room, meeting you by the sink. 

“Thank you,” he says, earnest though his voice is rough from exhaustion. “You make a good nurse.” 

For some odd reason, butterflies erupt in your gut at his words. You look up at him. He’s very close now, only a step or two away from being chest to chest. You manage a grin. 

“That’s me,” you say, faux casual. “Best nurse and assistant you’ve ever had, huh?” 

You might be imagining it, but you’re pretty sure Bucky’s eyes flicker to your lips. He’s distracted as he murmurs, “Uh huh.” 

A beat of silence, and then Bucky takes a step closer. Your chest burns. He raises his vibranium arm, and you watch as his silver fingers close around your forearm. You can’t feel it through your sweater, but you can imagine how smooth the metal would feel on your skin. 

“Bucky,” you whisper. 

“Mm,” he hums back. He’s definitely looking at your lips now, and moving closer by the second. “What, doll?” 

You blink rapidly. He’s so close now you can smell him, sweat and dust but underneath that something heady, a bergamot cologne you’ve smelled on him before. 

“I— what are you doing?” You whisper, starting to panic. 

Bucky looks at you, this intense look of yearning in his eyes, like he’s being pulled towards you and can’t stop, and you almost melt into the bathroom tiles. 

“I want to kiss you,” he murmurs, so quiet it’d be impossible to hear him if he weren’t this close. “Can I?” 

You sort of guessed as much, but to hear the words coming from his mouth is something else entirely. You find yourself nodding. You don't know why. Well, actually, you know exactly why. You like him a lot, and you’ve imagined this moment a million times over in your head, though in your imaginations he certainly wasn’t bleeding out in your tiny bathroom.

“Okay,” you manage, heartbeat turning frantic. 

You see a flash of his smile before he’s pulling you gently forwards by the wrist and then kissing you. It’s chaste, gentle, but you can almost feel him holding back, his grip on your wrist tightening as he moves closer still, almost like he can’t help himself. The pressure of his kissing pushes you backwards a half inch — your back hits the edge of the sink and you don't care, you really don’t, because Bucky is kissing you and his thumb is rubbing a rough circle into your inner forearm, and his lips are so warm they leave yours buzzing.

Too soon, Bucky pulls away. 

You blink at him. He’s still agonisingly close to your face, and still looking at you like he wants to eat you. Your heart’s a riot, worse when he reaches up with his freshly bandaged arm and tucks a rogue piece of hair behind your ear. 

His hand lingers at your jaw. 

“Sorry,” he murmurs. His hand is warm. His fingers are calloused and rough, but he touches you like you’re made of starlight. “Is it okay that I did that?” 

You nod. “Yes,” you manage. Even to your own ears, you sound breathless as anything, but you’re so dizzy that there’s no space to be embarrassed about it. “I— yeah.” 

Bucky smiles, but it’s not smug. If anything, it’s achingly fond. “I’m sorry I called. I shouldn’t have roped you into this. I just … didn’t have anyone else I could call.” 

You shake your head. You won’t say it, but right now you’re infinitely glad he called. Even in the dead of the night. “It’s okay.” 

Bucky strokes your jaw with his thumb, slow and intentional. “No one will hurt you while I’m here, okay? And we’ll be out of here before you even wake up, I promise.” 

You nod around his hand. It’s hard to digest anything he’s saying while he’s touching you like this, and looking at you like that. You think you get the gist, though. 

“Okay,” you say. You desperately want to kiss him again, but you’re much too shy to ask. Before you can work up the guts, he’s moving away. 

“I think you should get back to bed,” he tugs his phone from his jacket pocket and checks the time. “It’s past two.” 

“Right,” you nod, not wanting to, but you’re too dizzy and too tired to protest. 

You and Bucky leave the bathroom together. You follow him still half in a daze, not understanding how he can be so nonchalant when you literally feel lightheaded as a direct result of the kiss. You suppose he’s just better at hiding it, or maybe you’re just very sick in love. 

You and Bucky step into the living room to find probably the most absurd scene to ever grace your living space. Yelena and Ava, both knocked out on the couch, Ava’s head on Yelena’s shoulder, drool falling from the blonde’s open mouth. Alexei sprawled out on the floor in front of the TV, snoring like a bear. And Walker sitting at your kitchen table, bent in half with his forehead resting on his crossed arms, fast asleep.

Both you and Bucky seem to realise at the exact same time that there’s nowhere other than a much too small chunk of floor for him to sleep. You turn to each other. 

“Do you want to—?” You start. 

“I can sleep in the—“ he says at the same time. 

You both pause. 

“Sleep in the what?” You ask him, incredulous. 

Bucky grimaces. “The car?” He at least has the decency to look guilty as he says it. 

You roll your eyes. “You’re absurd. Come on, you can sleep in my room.” 

It’s ridiculous, you know, but the words leave your mouth before you think about it. The truth is, you’re both dead tired and you’ve got no other option. Besides, you don't see how this night could get any more ludicrous. What’s it matter if Bucky sleeps in your room? He’s just kissed you, hasn’t he? 

You start to pull him towards your bedroom, but he stays put. 

“Y/N—“ 

“You said you wouldn’t let any of them hurt me,” you say firmly. “How’re you gonna do that from the car?” 

Bucky opens his mouth, closes it, then opens it again. 

“I… don't know,” he mumbles lamely. Then, at your I told you so look, “Are you sure?” 

You resist the urge to roll your eyes. He’s too gentlemanly for his own good. “Yes, I’m sure. Come on.” 

You pull him towards your bedroom, much too tired now to be flustered about it. In the dark of your room, Bucky insists on sleeping on the floor. You let him, because he’s stubborn, and because you think if he were to sleep in your bed, no matter the distance you know he’d put between you, you’d be much too consumed with nervous energy to even shut your eyes, let alone sleep. 

It’s half past two when you finally crawl back into bed, Bucky lying on a stack of pillows on the floor at the foot of your bed. Though you can't see him, you feel his presence like a weight over your chest. 

You settle down on your pillows, already feeling the tug of sleep behind your eyes. Before you can fully succumb, Bucky speaks up. 

“Y/N?” He sounds just as tired as you, but you can't ignore the way he says your name like it's something special. 

“Yeah?” You hum back. 

“Thank you,” he says earnestly. You suppose he’s thanking you for everything from housing a bunch of strangers, to letting him kiss you. “I’ll make it up to you, I promise.” 

A pause in which you think about how to respond. Then, 

“With a pay raise?” You joke weakly. 

Bucky sighs loudly, but the smile in his voice is evident when he murmurs back, “Whatever you want, doll.” 

You grin to yourself. Now that’s something you can fall asleep to. 

-

thank you for reading! please consider reblogging if you enjoyed 🤍

[bruisedboys]

trying something different with my theme what do we think 😼

[bruisedboys]

god forbid a girl be tired 24/7

[bruisedboys]

THUNDERBOLTS — what do you think each of their love languages is? Like they’re so damaged ik lol but I’m so interested to hear your take on this

okay sorry I kinda went in a total spiel here. I love my damaged freaks

the thunderbolts and their love languages (ft. bucky, john, bob & yelena x fem!reader)

bucky is an acts of service guy! he does so many things for you without you having to ask. he makes all your meals (unless you want a turn to cook, then he’ll let you of course, but you’re insane if you think he won’t at least try to help). he ties your shoelaces when they’ve come undone, even in the middle of the street or if it’s raining, he’ll still get down on one knee and do them for you. he refills your water bottle before you even realise it’s empty, he’ll drive you wherever you want to go, and he’ll always always holds the door for you (if you get it before him, he makes you go back inside so he can hold it for you). it’s all the little things but it’s the big things too, helping you bandage a wound when you get hurt, washing your hair when you’re tired or sick or just because! fixing your blocked drain or replacing the cracked tiles on your roof. he just loves doing things for you, whatever you want or need he’s at your beckon call. of course, he’s well aware you’re completely capable of looking after yourself, but he absolutely believes you shouldn’t need to lift a finger if you don’t want to, and he’s happy to lift his finger (or his whole arm) for you at any given time <3

john’s love language is physical affection! he’s not so good with words, so he tries to say what he feels with his hands instead. he’s very protective so he’s always got a hand on the small of your back or around your waist. when he’s driving he’ll almost always have his hand on your thigh, thumb rubbing circles into your jeans. when he’s talking to you he always has to be touching you, a big hand playing with your fingers while you tell him about your day, or his thumb massaging your neck while you watch a film together. he’ll never admit it to you, but he does it to make sure you’re real, that you won’t just slip away through his fingers like water. he’s worried enough you’ll leave him due to his asshole-like tendencies, but touching you and knowing you’re still right there makes him feel a bit less worried. he loves taking your face in both his hands to kiss you, or pulling you in by the waist, and he gets a kick out of manhandling you when you’re both in the mood for it. also, when he’s asleep he holds you so tight you have to shove him off lest you suffocate <3

for yelena, I think her love language is words of affirmation! she’s the opposite of john in that she’s very good with her words and knows exactly what to say and when to say it. she loves to use a plethora of pet names on you (sweetheart, pretty girl, my love), and she lovesss speaking in russian to you just to see you get flustered. she dishes out compliments so often that you should be used to it, but you’re not, and every time she does it you get shy. she’s always saying things like you look so pretty today, or I love that colour on you, or you did such a good job, baby in that silky smooth voice of hers, and your brain just goes haywire every time. she also never shies away from telling you how much she loves you, and therefore everyone else has to suffer through it too <3 (john blocks his ears whenever she gets all lovey dovey on you in his company)

bob’s love language I think is quality time! he’s never really had someone to love as much as he loves you so he wants to spend every waking second with you. he prefers staying in over going out, but if you want to go out he’s 100% gonna go with you. you tell him you’ve gotta run to the grocery store for five minutes and he’s immediately on his feet, tagging along under the pretence of “making sure nothing happens to you.” while he loves to plan cute dates so he can take you out and spoil you, he really loves to just sit with you at home, whether you’re talking or sitting in silence he doesn’t mind. he loves playing video games with you, cooking with you, going on walks with you, anything that means he gets to spend time in your company. he misses you like crazy when you’re apart, and when you’re together he’s stupid clingy but you don’t mind, and that’s why he loves you so much <3

[bruisedboys]

THUNDERBOLTS and their love languages.....^-^

hii gf, mae also requested the same thing (great minds think alike mhm yup), answered here 😋

[bruisedboys]

THUNDERBOLTS — what do you think each of their love languages is? Like they’re so damaged ik lol but I’m so interested to hear your take on this

okay sorry I kinda went in a total spiel here. I love my damaged freaks

the thunderbolts and their love languages (ft. bucky, john, bob & yelena x fem!reader)

bucky is an acts of service guy! he does so many things for you without you having to ask. he makes all your meals (unless you want a turn to cook, then he’ll let you of course, but you’re insane if you think he won’t at least try to help). he ties your shoelaces when they’ve come undone, even in the middle of the street or if it’s raining, he’ll still get down on one knee and do them for you. he refills your water bottle before you even realise it’s empty, he’ll drive you wherever you want to go, and he’ll always always holds the door for you (if you get it before him, he makes you go back inside so he can hold it for you). it’s all the little things but it’s the big things too, helping you bandage a wound when you get hurt, washing your hair when you’re tired or sick or just because! fixing your blocked drain or replacing the cracked tiles on your roof. he just loves doing things for you, whatever you want or need he’s at your beckon call. of course, he’s well aware you’re completely capable of looking after yourself, but he absolutely believes you shouldn’t need to lift a finger if you don’t want to, and he’s happy to lift his finger (or his whole arm) for you at any given time <3

john’s love language is physical affection! he’s not so good with words, so he tries to say what he feels with his hands instead. he’s very protective so he’s always got a hand on the small of your back or around your waist. when he’s driving he’ll almost always have his hand on your thigh, thumb rubbing circles into your jeans. when he’s talking to you he always has to be touching you, a big hand playing with your fingers while you tell him about your day, or his thumb massaging your neck while you watch a film together. he’ll never admit it to you, but he does it to make sure you’re real, that you won’t just slip away through his fingers like water. he’s worried enough you’ll leave him due to his asshole-like tendencies, but touching you and knowing you’re still right there makes him feel a bit less worried. he loves taking your face in both his hands to kiss you, or pulling you in by the waist, and he gets a kick out of manhandling you when you’re both in the mood for it. also, when he’s asleep he holds you so tight you have to shove him off lest you suffocate <3

for yelena, I think her love language is words of affirmation! she’s the opposite of john in that she’s very good with her words and knows exactly what to say and when to say it. she loves to use a plethora of pet names on you (sweetheart, pretty girl, my love), and she lovesss speaking in russian to you just to see you get flustered. she dishes out compliments so often that you should be used to it, but you’re not, and every time she does it you get shy. she’s always saying things like you look so pretty today, or I love that colour on you, or you did such a good job, baby in that silky smooth voice of hers, and your brain just goes haywire every time. she also never shies away from telling you how much she loves you, and therefore everyone else has to suffer through it too <3 (john blocks his ears whenever she gets all lovey dovey on you in his company)

bob’s love language I think is quality time! he’s never really had someone to love as much as he loves you so he wants to spend every waking second with you. he prefers staying in over going out, but if you want to go out he’s 100% gonna go with you. you tell him you’ve gotta run to the grocery store for five minutes and he’s immediately on his feet, tagging along under the pretence of “making sure nothing happens to you.” while he loves to plan cute dates so he can take you out and spoil you, he really loves to just sit with you at home, whether you’re talking or sitting in silence he doesn’t mind. he loves playing video games with you, cooking with you, going on walks with you, anything that means he gets to spend time in your company. he misses you like crazy when you’re apart, and when you’re together he’s stupid clingy but you don’t mind, and that’s why he loves you so much <3

[bruisedboys]

hii!! if you’re taking requests still for the marvel event… could i request endgame with yelena and a fem reader with the prompt "five more minutes"? lena deserves some peaceful resting time : )

hi angel, thank u for your request!! hope u enjoy and sorry this is so short xx

yelena belova x fem!reader, 0.4k words

Yelena’s fast asleep next to you in the cab. You’d rather die than wake her — she rarely ever gets a good night's sleep, often plagued by nightmares, and she looks so peaceful like this, her features softened by sleep — but the driver is pulling up to your apartment now and you don't want to make him wait.

You jostle Yelena where she’s slouched into your side. “Lena,” you whisper. “We’re home.”

Yelena grumbles something incoherent and slouches further into your side, her cheek pressing into your shoulder. You huff. How she manages to be stubborn even while she’s asleep is beyond you.

The car stops next to your place. You twist in your seat and take Yelena’s face in your hand, slotting your fingers under her jaw gently. She’s unbelievably pretty like this, her lashes all fluttery and her lips pushed into a pout. You brush a short lock of blonde hair away from her face with your thumb.

“C’mon, wake up,” you murmur to her. “We're here.”

Yelena groans, blinking her eyes open, her movements languid. She meets your gaze sleepily. “Five more minutes?” She asks, voice scratchy from sleep.

You laugh softly and shake your head. “You can have five more hours once we get inside. Or more,” you say.

Yelena seems to like that promise. You get out of the car, tugging her with you, and thank the driver. He drives away and you attempt to get inside your front door with Yelena leaning half her weight on you. You manage to get her into your bedroom, before she completely collapses sideways on your bed.

You lean over her. “You’ve gotta take off your makeup, honey,” you remind her gently, hoping to soften the blow.

It doesn’t work. Yelena groans like you've stabbed her and covers her face with her hands.

You laugh, partly at her dramatics, and partly ‘cos you love her so much it makes you a bit giddy. “You want me to do it for you?”

It’s how you end up in Yelena’s lap, hands on her warm face, carefully rubbing the eyeliner from her eyes with a washcloth. She’s half asleep underneath you, her eyes shut to accommodate for your hands, and her chest heaving with soft, slow breaths. The only way you know she’s still awake is from her hands where they rest on your hips, one thumb drawing slow, lazy circles into the dip of your waist.

When you’re done she thanks you with a sleepy kiss, and the second her head hits the pillows she’s fast asleep. You spend a long while afterwards watching her and wondering how you got so lucky.

[bruisedboys]

requests for my celly are now closed! thank you for so many good requests and please be patient with me over the next little while as I try to answer them 🤍🤍

hiii okay I think I’m gonna be closing requests for my celly tonight!! it’s a bit earlier than I wanted but I’ve just gotten so many good ones, and to make sure that I get to write all/most of them, I don’t think I’ll take many more! I’ll keep it open for a few more hours, so if you have any last minute requests feel free to send them in before then! otherwise thank you to everyone who’s sent something in, and if I don’t get to your request please know I’m still very grateful for it <3 also bear with me while I write these cos I might be answering them for a while after my celly closes!

[bruisedboys]

mal i love this event and i love u <3333

can i please request for civil war — bucky barnes x sunshine!reader ?? thank you smookiedookiepappacookie 🥰😝🫶

bucky barnes x sunshine!reader ★

[bruisedboys]

RAGNAROK — tumblr games! kiss marry kill, cast your mutuals, would you rather, etc.

cast your mutuals as the thunderbolts <33

hiii angel I actually already did this one, but I’m doing it again with another set of mutuals bc I can hehe

you as ava

@oncasette as walker

@djotummy as bucky

@bradshawed as yelena

@websterss as bob

(this one is also based on vibes alone, I will not be elaborating 😝)

[bruisedboys]

HI!!! I just found your blog, and I ADORE your writing! I was wondering if you had a masterlist? 🩷🩷🩷

hi!!!! thank you so much, yes I do have a masterlist, here it is !! thank u for reading 🤍🤍