#kits asks

he fucks is what we think

how we holding up today

omg hiiiii I’m pretty okay I don’t have school which is nice but I still have a lot to do so I’m very much procrastinating… I just made some food and now I’m watching YouTube lol

Can you write for Bucky taking care of reader while she recovers from surgery? 🤒 I figure I’m a week and a half into my own recovery. I could use some fluff 💜💜

Love Me Well

Pairing: Bucky x Recovering!Reader

Summary: Reader is antsy after being bedridden after surgery, but it's still fluffy <3

Warnings: Mentions of surgery (unspecified reason) if those are even warnings? Fluff. My writing needs it's own warning :\

Word Count: 614

A/N: Hello lovely! I hope you like it! I had no idea where this was going when I started. The reader had surgery on her stomach but it's unspecified what for, I hope that's okay.

Masterlist of Masterlists

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You groan in exasperation, sick of being sick. Well, not sick, but recovering. Recovering and bedridden until your nurse, also known as Bucky, allows you out of bed.

"Baby, don't you think you're being a little excessive?" You say, unable to suppress a chuckle but regretting it when you shift uncomfortably and pain shoots to your incision, a quiet 'hmph' passing your lips.

"No, it's not," he huffs, hovering over you like a mother hen, "you need rest."

"I am resting, I don't need more rest. I need to be able to do something and have something to focus on."

"Focus on getting better, darlin," he tries, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

"I thought you were doin that for me," you tease, tilting your chin up to accept another one, this time on your lips. His are slightly chapped but warm against yours and you melt into him, pulling him nearly on top of you and making him chuckle, his large frame braced against the bed frame as it creaks precariously under his weight.

"Easy, sweetheart, wouldn't wanna pull out those stitches too soon," he reminds, lifting your shirt to check the will-be scar.

You let out an amused huff of air as he drops to his knees beside the bed, his calloused fingers pushing the hem of your, or rather his, faded black t-shirt up over your stomach, revealing your newest battle scar. You fidget uncomfortably, feebly attempting to cover your exposed skin. His hand stops yours, fingers wrapping around your much smaller wrist ever so gently, his eyes finding yours. Knowing your stomach is your biggest insecurity, he keeps his eyes locked on yours as he slowly peppers sweet kisses against your skin, his lips barely ghosting the sensitive area. “I love you,” he drawls, interlacing his fingers with yours, squeezing slowly. Tears blur your vision and you avert your gaze, trying to blink them away. Not because he said he loves you, but because he means it. “Hey,” he murmurs, his free hand cupping your cheek, tilting your face towards him again, forcing you to look at him. “I love you,” he repeats, trailing kisses across the back of your hand and up your arm slowly. “All of you, darlin. You’re beautiful.” 

A tear slips down your face as you lean into his touch, his lips brush your shoulder and then your collarbone through your shirt. “I love you too,” you whisper, sniffling slightly. “God, I really love you. How’d I get so lucky?” you murmur, leaning forward ever so slightly to capture his lips. A moment that lasts an eternity passes and you pull away, resting your forehead against his contentedly. 

“You’re not lucky, darlin. You deserve to be taken care of. And you deserve someone’s love who’s gonna treat you well. I just happen to be the one lucky enough to get to take that spot in your heart,” Bucky says sincerely, his stormy eyes never leaving yours as more tears trickle down your cheeks. He wipes them away with his thumb tenderly before untangling himself from you slowly, huffing in amusement when you chase his touch. His laughter changes to concern when your face twinges with pain at your attempt to move. 

“Hold still, love,” he admonishes, rounding the bed and ever so slowly crawling across it to you, careful to shift the mattress as little as possible as he settles in next to you. You reach for his hand instinctively as he turns on reruns of Friends and you rest your head on his shoulder, eyes drifting shut to the sound of the tv and Bucky’s breathing as his fingers trace random patterns on your forearm.

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Marvel Taglist: @timelordy-fangirl2 @divine-mistake @leyannrae @marvelatthisone 

Thank you @kittlesandbugs 💛

Here we go...

1. How many different places have they lived?

Technically three. She lived in the Free Marches with her clan, then Haven and finally Skyhold. She's travelled a lot but never actually lived in any of them. She would love to live in the Emerald Graves though.

3. What is their favorite color?

Rhaella's favorite color is green. No particular shade, but it's her favorite because it reminds her of nature and plants.

9. Are they a liar? Are they good at lying?

Get pet'd, idiot /pos

Dude 😭 I sent an ask at the most unfortunate time ever, and since then you've gotten sick and are now on a break from mb requests

I think tumblr may have eaten my request 😔😞

Get fox-booped

- 🦊