bucksfavorite - Tumblr blog

bucksfavorite · 3 years

Note

im a sucker for soft bucky🥺🥺

& this writing is just *chefs kiss*

Ok so you can totally say no and ignore this. There is absolutely NO pressure. I’m just such a softie for caretaker Bucky. Like reader could be injured/fever/sick/headache anything it really doesn’t matter. I know it’s SUCH a trope, but the idea of our boy being concerned and soft for reader makes me swooooooon. Like using his cold metal hand to cool her forehead for comfort. UGH.

WASTELAND, BABY! - b.b.

Summary: The date itself was perfect. Dinner at home with Alpine at your feet? Check. Great company? Double check. Finger-licking food? Hmm, not so much. The day after was even less than ideal. Fortunately, Bucky knows a thing or two about nursing you back to health. Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader TW: illness, medicine, food poisoning, food, fluff Words: 2K A/N: Shannon, this was so cute, thank you so much for sending it in!! 💗 i hope you liked it! I had something but i wasn't happy with it and then rewrote it so lmao (also this is lowkey based on the time i had food poisoning whilst volunteering in south africa! don't order pizza with chicken and avocado from a shady restaurant!!🥲 i was so sick for a week) -> the title came from the song Wasteland, baby! by Hozier

MARVEL MASTERLIST | BUCKY BARNES MASTERLIST

The fact that you and Bucky hadn’t been able to go on a date in approximately three and a half months was horrifying to say the least. Between quick morning kisses before running off to go to work and late night cuddles in bed, it had been a real chore to find some extra time to just be together with Bucky.

Enough is enough, and you had requested a few days of leave, which the non-profit you worked for luckily allowed. Bucky had asked Torres to step in for him for a few days, needing a few days off from saving the world that was so hell-bent on destroying itself.

It was the first time in so long that you and Bucky had nothing to do on a friday night and though it felt alien at first, you easily fell back into the rhythm of comfort and belly laughs, soft touches that lingered and turned into feverish kisses.

Bucky preferred to stay in, order a pizza and just watch a movie together, avoid the prying eyes of the public that followed him everywhere he went. Bucky didn’t like parading around in town, much less when they would be able to scrutinize you as well - even though you were an absolute godsend that cared more for others than yourself.

Bucky wanted to hold you closely in his arms, get grounded again with your touches lingering on his skin where goosebumps would slowly form as he tried his best to get reconnected to you again. It was nice to just be together, home, on the couch getting lost in each other instead of the world that always demanded more and more of you.

Eventually, after pawing at each other for a few moments, your stomach grumbled, ruining the moment a bit, but also making Bucky laugh as he pressed another kiss on the soft skin under your ear, the scruff of his beard tickling your skin.

“I’ll order some pizzas, how ‘bout that?” he asked as he pulled up the menu of a nearby restaurant on his phone, scrolling through the countless choices as you crawled next to him, grabbing his arm to put it over your shoulders, nestling your head on his shoulder.

Alpine strutted in from the office and jumped up on the couch, doing a small stretch and then padding over to your lap. She loved basking in the heat of your lap, purring incessantly as Bucky listed all the options the restaurant had available.

“Wait, say that again,” you interrupted Bucky as he recited the long list of available pizzas the restaurant had to offer, “the one with avocado?”

“Uh, here - just a normal pizza with white sauce, chicken, avocado and some veggies,” he wrinkled his nose, thinking about the weird combination of ingredients.

Bucky didn’t say anything about how excited you were about this awful combination and placed the order, adding a pepperoni for himself, already preparing for the fact that you wouldn’t like the pizza and would steal half of his. He didn’t really mind, hell, he’d give you the whole pizza if you didn’t like yours, but it was pretty funny to see your face scrunch up, before you’d lightly push your plate towards him and throw in a doe-eyed look as well. Bucky just couldn’t resist then.

When the delivery guy rang the doorbell, you carefully lifted Alpine out of your lap into Bucky’s and padded over towards the door to accept the pizzas. You tipped the man before turning back to Bucky and Alpine.

Bucky’s pizza looked and smelled amazing when he opened the box, and when you opened yours, it smelled okay as well - maybe not as good as his though, you had to admit.

“You’re still sure chicken and avocado on pizza is a good idea?” he lifted a brow in question as he watched you try out the pizza.

“You can have half of mine,” he added, a little bit worried when you didn’t immediately respond but just stared at the pizza in front of you, a deadpan expression plastered on your face.

“uhu,” you waved your finger, your mouth stuffed with pizza,“it’s quite good actually.”

“Alright,” Bucky responded, doubt still clear in his voice, but your smile made it evaporate immediately, another piece of pizza in your hand already.

The rest of the evening was spent in each other's presence, enjoying the mediocre pizza for you and laughing when Alpine got a case of the zoomies, running around the apartment and jumping on top of Bucky and the top cabinet in the kitchen.

It had been pure bliss, spending the evening with your love right beside you, you couldn’t describe it otherwise.

* * *

The day after however, had not been that great. The morning had started off with a slight headache you blamed on caffeine withdrawals. Bucky had pushed a cup of freshly brewed coffee in your hands, his soft lips lingering on your forehead as his brow scrunched together in a worrisome manner.

“You are burning up, are you sure it’s nothing else?” he voiced his concerns, worry laced through his voice as he pressed the back of his right hand against your forehead to check your temperature again.

You leaned backwards to escape his touch, the hotness of his hand making your head feel even worse, and waved his worries away, “I'm alright. It’s been a while since we stayed up this late, must be my body telling me to take it easy.”

Bucky wasn’t fully convinced of your words, his eyes focusing on your lethargic movements through the apartment as you shuffled your way to the couch in the living room, but he let it go anyway.

Seems like Bucky was right in the end after all.

After you had downed your coffee, you had actually returned to bed, claiming you were still feeling tired from staying up until ungodly hours and you had to sleep it off. You made a promise to Bucky that when you’d wake up later, you’d go on a walk through the park together to get some fresh air.

However, when Bucky went up to the bedroom after two hours of radio-silence from you, he found you shivering under a pile of blankets, sweat coating your face as you tried your best to not grimace when he came to sit beside you on the bed.

“Guess that coffee didn’t really wake you up, huh,” he softly said, his right hand coming up to check your temperature again.

The only thing you could do was groan, every part of your body ached and the swishing that was going around in your stomach wasn’t helping at all. Your bones felt like they were brittle, every movement would be able to break them. Your head felt like a ticking time-bomb, ready to explode whenever the pressure would get too much. This might have been the worst illness you ever had - except for when you got the flu when you were seven.

The decision you and Bucky had made to purchase white linen curtains made you curse your past self. The light that was filtering through usually woke you up in a gentle manner, softly kissing your skin with its warmth on your face making you feel like everything was right in the world.

Now they just mocked you. The light stung your eyes, made your head scream out for some darkness, some alleviation from the pressure that kept building up in your skull.

“Think the chicken might have gotten to me,” you managed to get out. Your throat felt like sandpaper, scratchy and hoarse and just tired.

The sheets on the bed made your skin crawl, the softly woven cotton sticking to your skin. The sheets on top of your body were too hot, but whenever you threw them off, you’d immediately start shivering, the sheen of sweat cooling you off too quickly.

“Can I get you anything?” Bucky said, his voice in a lower register, trying his best to not make any unnecessary noise to spare your head from killing you.

Bucky had never seen you this sick. Sure, you’d get a headache once in a while. Like clockwork you’d get a cold when the temperatures dipped below the freezing point. He’d supply you with tissues all over the house, bring you peppermint tea to clear your sinuses and stroke your hair when you were lying on the couch together, watching reruns of The Office.

“Uh, just some medicine maybe, from the cabinet?” you whispered, looking into his clear blue eyes that were awash with worry, worry that this was something more than food poisoning, worry that, even though you were a human who gets sick once in a while, that there could be something very wrong. Something that would rip you away from him, in a heartbeat.

“Sure,” he whispered back, pressing a kiss against your forehead before he went searching for the specific medicine in the cabinet you were adamant on hanging in the bathroom.

After looking through the cabinet, he returned with a glass of water, the medicine for your stomach and some aspirins for the fever and headache.

With shaky hands you downed the glass of water with the aspirine, as well as a shot of the medicine.

“Yuck,” your mouth turned in a frown at the bitter taste of the medicine. Bucky removed the glass from your hands and wanted to check your temperature again.

This time however, his right hand was holding the glass, so his vibranium hand softly pressed against your forehead.

The feeling of the cold metal against your feverish forehead alleviated the pressure in your head significantly as you let out a deep sigh, slowly letting your eyes close.

“Sweetheart? Everything alright?” he said, worry seeping back into his voice again as he wanted to remove his hand to get a better look of your face.

“No,” you mumbled, pressing both of your hands against his on your forehead, letting the cool metal reduce the pressure in your head, “please just keep your hand here for a bit.”

Bucky now chuckled and moved to sit a little closer to you, his left hand not leaving your head, “ah, better than the ol’ flesh hand, huh?”

You just slightly nodded, keeping your eyes closed as you hoped the medicine would start to kick in soon, finally making you feel less shit than before.

“Can I do anything else?” Bucky softly asked, still worried that talking too loud would worsen your head ache.

Bucky just wanted you to get better. Seeing the person you love incapacitated in bed with a fever made him icky. Whereas in avenger duties he could always do something, help someone in some way, here he could only give you medicine and care for you. It made him feel a bit useless.

You just opened one of your eyes, your voice coming out small and powerless, “can you just cuddle with me?”

“With your hand on my head?” you added, a small pout on your lips which Bucky wanted to kiss until they were swollen and not in a pout anymore.

“Ofcourse, bub,” Bucky moved onto the bed, laying down next to you as he cradled your head in the nook of his arm, his vibranium arm wrapping around you in a way where he could still press his hand on your forehead.

“Thank you,” you whispered against his chest, pressing a small kiss against his collarbone before closing your eyes again.

Bucky pressed his lips against the top of your head, “anything for you, darling.”

The rest of the day was spent in bed, Bucky pressed against you as the medicine worked its way through your body. Alpine eventually found her way to the bedroom and of course, she crawled between the two of you, demanding heat from both of your bodies.

The weekend hadn’t been what you expected, far from it actually, but knowing Bucky would take care of you, even on the worst days, made it all a bit better.

316 notes · View notes

bucksfavorite · 3 years

Note

AH OMG THIS SIDKEKCISKOFS I LOVE IT AND I LOVE U

Spencer with a s/o who feels like Spencer deserves someone better 🥺 if you have anything already written like this i apologize!

LIABILITY - S.R.

Summary: on an after party with the brightest of minds, it is hard not to feel self-conscious. Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader TW: alcohol, angst, fluff Words: 1.9K (sjksksk sorry, i just can't write less than 1K for some reason!) A/N: hi anon!! thank you for sending this in; i hope it is what you expected 🥺💗 (and don't apologize, i haven't written a lot for spencer and was definitely in a rut with my series, but this might just pull me out of it!!)

SPENCER REID MASTERLIST

“One sociologist said ‘have you read Marx?’ and the other replies ‘yeah, it’s these damn wicker chairs!’,” Spencer said, the other people in the room erupting in boisterous laughs all round you, a timid but content smile on his face. You lifted your drink to your mouth to hide the fact that you weren't laughing. The joke had completely gone over your head, as so many of Spencer’s jokes often did.

You were sitting on the arm of the couch Spencer was lounging in, a club soda cradled between his hands as he peered around the room filled with bright minds from all over the country. Spencer had invited you as his plus one to a fundraiser gala, where everyone had been so incredibly nice to you. What you didn’t expect though, was for Spencer to say yes to the afterparty at one of the organizers house.

The afterparty had been a whole other story. More people introduced themselves, asking who you were and what you did and who were you again?

It wasn’t that you were dumb - far from it actually. But most of these people had phDs and multiple years experience in all the different sciences known to man, whereas you had lots of practical experience as a manager of a quaint little hotel in downtown D.C.

You too, had to go through an extensive college education combined with different internships in prestigious hotels all around the country, before settling for a little boutique hotel that had the right balance between luxury and the intimate feeling most hotels lacked.

Your job was your life. The team was as tight as ever, the hotel guests were (usually) the nicest people and the hotel was beautiful.

When there was a problem, you were the one to fix it. You had both of best worlds actually; if there was a problem with a hotel guest, you’d show up and fix it immediately, just as if there was a problem with the pool filter. There was a problem with balancing the books? Give it a few hours and you’d find the problem. One of the keycard locks on the doors refused to move? You had a handy kit that would open the door in no-time.

You were good at your job and you knew it damn well.

So sitting between the smartest minds of the country wasn’t exactly where you imagined yourself to be. They joked about things you didn’t understand, talked about stuff that sounded like an alien language and explained their research in such a way that made you want to just give up - the worst of all was that Spencer fit right in.

And you didn’t.

You tapped Spencer’s leg and he looked up at you, his eyes crinkled as his lips were pulled in a wide smile. It was good to see him this way, happy and accepted by a community that was his life, after being ostracized most of his life.

“I’m going for a refill, do you want anything?” you tried to keep your voice level, self-doubt starting to creep in through the cracks.

Spencer shook his head, his curls bouncing around his head as he quickly squeezed your hand, “I’ll just stay here if that’s okay?” he asked, his brown eyes big and loving, a little blush present on his cheeks.

“Yeah, sure,” you whispered in his ear as you pressed a quick kiss against his cheek before standing up and looking for a stronger drink in the kitchen.

Luckily there was a whole bar filled with any liquor you could imagine, so you grabbed a glass and poured some whiskey before turning back towards where Spencer was sitting.

You stopped in the doorway, peering at him from a distance as he talked to someone next to him, excitedly gesturing as his smile got bigger by the second.

That was something Spencer couldn’t do with you. Sure, it was fun to hear his stories from work and from his work as a professor, but some things were just… too hard to understand.

Spencer could start a story about how an unsub used bleach to clean up his crimes, which was stupid, you had picked that up from dating him and true crime podcasts, but would then go on to explain the chemical components in bleach and how they exactly worked to remove blood.

It was all nice and fun, but he had to explain it all the time and you were sure he was getting tired of explaining every joke and every thing he did on his job. It was difficult not to compare yourself to all these people here, who did understand his jokes and were able to formulate their own thoughts when Spencer was talking about academic stuff.

You turned back around, searching for the garden instead to find a place to take a little breather before you’d drive yourself insane.

You found a secluded spot on the deck that overlooked the pond where big koi fish were swimming around in slow circles. The whiskey burned just right in your throat as the after party inside was coming into full swing.

It only took 13 minutes for Spencer to find you. When you didn’t come back after five minutes with a drink in your hands, he guessed someone had stopped you to talk about something.

But five more minutes made worry swish around in his stomach as he looked around the living room. Spencer had noticed that you were on the quiet side since arriving at the after party, but he had thought you were just tired - you had had a night shift before it and maybe two parties were a little bit too much.

Spencer eventually found you outside on the porch, peering down at the koi fish as you ignored everything happening around you.

“Hey,” his voice made you jump a little as he crouched down next to you.

You threw him a lopsided smile, looking down at the fish again, their beautiful tails distracting you from the self-doubt that was consuming every thought.

“Is everything alright?” he tried again, anxiety laced through his voice, a tick in his jaw that showed how worried he was getting.

Your lips set into a grim line as your eyes fell shut, “don’t worry about it Spence, just- just go back inside.”

It was hard to dismiss him, but he would never understand how it felt to be the least educated in the room, let alone be scrutinized for it.

Spencer ignored what you said and sat down fully, his long legs hanging over the edge of the deck, right above the water. His fingers were drumming anxiously on the deck, the rhythmic sound making you stressed, as well for the conversation that was hanging above your heads.

Spencer inhaled sharply as he looked at your figure out of the corner of his eyes.

Your whole frame was leaning forward, crouched into itself a bit as your arms were wrapped around yourself, caging yourself in to protect yourself from the outside that made you ache. The glass of whiskey that you had poured yourself, was already empty.

He shuffled a bit closer to you before opening his mouth, “sweetheart.. I- I can’t help if you don’t let me in.”

It stayed quiet on your end for a hot second and Spencer was starting to think you just didn’t hear what he said, until a small sob broke the silence.

It came out of nowhere. One moment you were just a bit bitter, but then it morphed into a whole other feeling - not feeling good enough for Spencer.

Spencer was the love of your love, you were sure of it. But this moment right here made you realize he would always be a better person than you. Even when he didn’t know what was wrong, he was there for you.

Spencer immediately put his arm around your shoulders as he pressed you closer to him. He pressed a lingering kiss against your hair as the sobs racked through your body, your tears staining the nice shirt Spencer was wearing.

“I-I just, I feel like I’m not good enough for you,” you sniffled, refusing to look at Spencer as he felt his heart breaking in a million pieces, “I stick out like a sore thumb in this crowd.”

It hurt him that you would think this way - as not enough for him. Spencer thought the world of you. You had worked so hard to get where you were now, more than most, even though you’d never admit it. In the hotel, you were so patient with everyone. Nothing could bring you down, a smile always present on your face.

Every day when he woke up and saw your face peering at him, he couldn’t help but have a skip in his step as he walked around the BAU. Even after a particularly bad case, coming home to you would make the whole day feel like sunshine.

You were the most amazing person he had ever met- if only you could see that, too.

“Sweetheart...y/n,” he said, his left hand coming up under your chin to lift your eyes to his, “you are the most amazing person in my entire life. You are my life.”

“I-I just feel like I don’t belong here,” you replied, your eyes burning with tears as your mouth was pulled into a pout, “with you.”

“That is not true, not at all,” he stressed, his brow scrunched together as he let his thumb slip over your lower lip, “these people are good in their field, but let them try something outside of it and they will fail!

“What you have- what you are is… you are so talented, you pick up skills left and right...you are always down to learn about something,” he summed up, his voice pitching an octave higher because he didn’t see why you were putting yourself down so much.

“And I love you - so much. If there is anyone not good enough, it’s me,” Spencer sniffled, his own eyes filling with tears. He couldn’t see you cry, especially not over him.

“I just want you to have everything you deserve,” your voice cracked as you saw his eyes shining with tears, “because you deserve everything, Spence.”

“Don’t you know?” Spencer said as he cradled your face in his hands, “you are my everything.”

Spencer pulled you face closer to his, slating his lips over yours as he tried to convey all his feelings in this kiss on a random porch somewhere in D.C., koi fish swimming under your feet.

“Let’s get out of here,” he said after a minute, his breath a bit laboured, “most of them were laughing out of politeness anyway.”

He stood up and stretched out his hands to pull you up as well. He pecked your lips quickly and wiped his thumbs under your eyes to get rid of the stains and then wrapped his arm around your shoulder, “I don’t want you to ever feel like this again, okay?”

He pressed another kiss against your temple before leading you away from the party, not even bothering saying goodbye to all the people.

That night, he just wanted to show you how much he loved you, and how much you were enough for him.

You weren't a liability to him; you were his equal in every sense of the word. Spencer would try his damn best to make sure you would realize how amazing you were, even if it took him the rest of his life.

also; this is the joke and the explanation if any one wants to know (found it online):

Two sociologists are sitting by the pool. One turns to the other and asks, "Have you read Marx?" to which he replies, "Yes, it's these damn wicker chairs."

Here's why it's funny: Sociologists are likely well-acquainted with Karl Marx's theories about economics, politics, and society. But this joke isn't about Marx or his ideas, but about how wicker chairs tend to leave red indentations on your skin.

While the sociologist who asked the question meant, "Have you read Marx?" the other sociologist heard it as, "Have you red marks?"

705 notes · View notes

bucksfavorite · 3 years

Text

got me like

fake boyfriend, real orgasms [6/?]

SERIES MASTERLIST

SUMMARY || things were starting to return to normal…or so you thought.

PAIRING || roommate!bucky x f!reader

WORD COUNT || 1,605 words

WARNINGS || talk of marriage & annulments, pet-name [sweets], sexting, nudes being sent [by bucky], masturbation, bucky using reader’s panties [& cumming in them], lots of teasing, oral, authority kink, dumbification [dumb baby brain], praise kink, ex-wife mention, threatening emails — 18+ ONLY//MINORS DNI

NOTES || we’re back and the drama begins 😩

Keep reading

2K notes · View notes

bucksfavorite · 3 years

Note

got me feeling like 🥺🥺🥺🥺