Delicateflappizzaplaid - E.

“You pop when we get intimate...”

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How do you see chubby!bucky’s body in your mind?

James Buchanan Barnes, aka Bucky, is an impressive six foot four (and half).

He has long, luscious chestnut hair that curls around the nape of his neck. He usually wears it in a low bun and he loves for you to play with his hair. And it almost always smells like your conditioner because he has a habit of using your products instead of his own.

Bucky has bright crystal blue eyes that seem to notice every single detail about you. They're so expressive, it's always so obvious when he wants you or when he's excited about anything.

He doesn't like to shave so he always has stubble on his round cheeks, if not a full beard. He's constantly blushing because of something you said or the way you looked at him. His deep, smooth voice is usually mumbling your name under his breathe whenever you do something to bring that blush out.

And he has the habit of biting his bottom lip, always leaving indents behind that you like to trace with your fingertip while he smiles down at you.

His biceps are massive from carting around sacks of flour and heavy kitchen equipment. He has a broad, toned chest with a grey surrealistic tattoo that wraps around his right shoulder and goes down to his wrist. It makes his right arm look as stunning as his vibranium one.

Bucky has a soft, round belly that's perfect for sleeping on, thick yet firm in the best way. There's a small happy trail that leads to a very impressive package surrounded by a pair of thick, hair covered thighs.

°•☆So tasteful☆•°

♦️ Mob! Bucky Barnes x Chef! Reader ♦️

Your baked treats are suspiciously good and it attracts the mob boss’ attention.

CW: fluff, humor, obsession, meet cute, smitten Bucky, grumpy Bucky

Words: 750

A/N: Engagement is so low these days, I might not bother writing more, but I still really liked this idea, so here we go with this drabble ^^

Bucky Barnes masterlist || Part 2

Bucky hates these meetings.

When he took over the organization, he didn't think there'd be so many pleasantries involved. 

While he knows some degree of diplomacy is required, he expected a lot less talking and a lot more killing. That at least, he can't mess up. It is second nature, after all. When the handle of a blade fills his palm, he truly feels home. 

But this… 

It makes the killer in him antsy, restless. What he'd trade for a good, old-fashioned hunt. A worthy chase. He misses it, the thrill that coursed through him whenever he cornered a target. The fear shining in their eyes, the realization there would be no tomorrow…

The prospect makes his blood sing. 

He listens intently to Danny’s report, twirling the glass of brown liquor in his hand. 

"We found out who the mole was." Bucky perks up, his attention fully drawn. Each of his men does the same, their faces tight. The sting of betrayal permeates the air, clogging the room even more than the lingering clouds of smoke. There’s been a rat in their ranks for too long. He's been feeding information to the FBI for weeks, ruining deliveries, delaying shipments. 

Bucky’s mouth twists in contempt as pictures are tossed on the low wooden table brimming with manila folders and half-empty glasses of alcohol.

He takes in the face of the traitor. 

Rumlow. He knows he should have erased every trace of the old organization, but the bastard did good work and never asked too many questions. Turns out it’s because he was too busy running his damn mouth.

"What should we do about it, boss?" Danny asks. 

"Bring him to me. I’ll deal with him myself," he replies without hesitation, emptying his glass to its dregs before clenching his jaw. 

But the unhinged train of Bucky’s murderous thoughts is halted when his gaze lifts to one of his henchman, Leo, humming loud enough for him to hear.

"What are you doing?"

The boy freezes. Dark crumbs line his mouth as he looks at his boss with wide eyes.

A nervous stutter spills from his mouth.

"Just…eating a brownie, sir."

Bucky squints at Leo, a deep scowl scrunching his features.

He slaps the brownie out of the boy’s hand who watches it fall to the floor with a dejected expression.

"Eating a brownie, huh? What do you think this is? The neighborhood bake sale?"

Another subtle moan rises to his left and Bucky’s gaze narrows to yet another one of his henchmen indulging in the sweet delights. 

His voice trembles as he points at the plate of brownies.

"They are really good, sir. You should try one."

"I should-" 

Bucky scoffs, disbelief fluttering through him as he notices how many of the brownies have already been eaten. 

"Whatever. I swear to god if you don’t s-"

The mobster’s irate rant is halted when a brownie is shoved into his mouth by a henchman. Bucky frowns at the audacity, ready to end the meeting and commit murder on the spot, but…then the taste melts on his tongue, sweet and subtle. Heavenly. The scowl on his face eases as anger dissipates. 

"Who baked these?"

"The new chef, sir."

His frown returns. 

"New chef? What happened to the old chef?"

"He was…disposed of when we realized he was lacing the food with poison."

"Disposed of?"

The henchman who spoke shifts awkwardly in his chair.

"You slit his throat, sir."

Bucky nods as slow remembrance sneaks inside his mind. He’s not sure how that memory escaped him. The man screamed a lot. It left quite an impression.

"Right, I forgot that."

The meeting resumes but Bucky’s mind is elsewhere. It’s not often he’s comforted by something as trivial as baked goods. This is uncanny; he needs to inquire more about this new chef.

Their intentions should be gauged anyway. Who knows? Maybe they too, will need their throat slit. 

He’d never slit your throat. Bucky’s sure of that. 

When the mob boss entered the kitchen, his intentions were clear. Interrogate or intimidate, most likely both. But when he gets a glimpse of your angelic face, wrinkled in focus while you cover a cake in chocolate frosting, Bucky feels like he’s being stabbed right through the heart. Over and over again. He could have collapsed right here and then. 

And when you lift your head to smile at him - the most gorgeous smile he’s ever seen - Bucky knows he’s fucking lost. 

Instantly, he knows, he needs to have you, no matter what it takes.

I do not have a taglist anymore. Follow and turn up notifs for my sideblog @straytales to know when I post something new.

You're My Queen

Pairing: Loki Laufeyson x plus size!reader

Warnings: Insecurities, self deprecating thoughts.

Summary: It saddened Loki to see you view yourself as anything less than a queen.

Wc: 576

a/n: @lilacprincessofrecovery I am so sorry that it took me so long to get to this, but I had a lot of fun writing for Loki though! I feel like it's always such a nice refresher when I thrown in a character that I rarely ever write for! Thank you so much for your patience, it really does mean everything in the world to me! I hope you enjoy! :]

masterlist | AO3

TAGLIST: @alina02 @louderfortheback @minervadashwood @their-love @fandomsarelifee @theendofthe70s @nomajdetective @mgg-theprettiestboy

Even though Loki came from Asgard, he was an Earth man, through and through, why wouldn’t he be? That was the planet where he had found you. It was a complete accident, at least in your end, bumping into him on the street where he stood with his brother. If you was anyone else, he would’ve snapped on you, but it was as if his words died in his throat, and for the first time in what felt like centuries, the god of mischief, the man that always seemed to have something to say, was rendered speechless. He couldn’t help but let his gaze follow you, even after you apologized to him.

All he could recall from that day was Thor saying, “That’s a good one, brother.”

And a good one you were. At least in his mind. Loki considered you his goddess, a queen that everyone should bow down to and worship for the rest of their days. Sadly, you didn’t see yourself that way. At first, he was angry, angry that these pathetic humans ever dared to talk down to you, to make you feel any less important than you truly were. To him, you were the sun, the moon, the stars, the creator of the universe, the person that made his life make sense, but your insecurities only got worse when you’d visit Asgard.

“Loki…” You said unsurely as you stared at the dress laid out on the bed before you. Even though Loki despised his “family,” it would be the first time that they had met you, and he demanded that you’d have respect. “I don’t think this is going to fit.” Which was a half lie. The gorgeous cloth was intimidating; with beautiful intricate golden details to the corset which was even prettier. To you, you felt as though you had no business wearing something like this.

“Darling,” You heard him state as he walked over to you. “I’ve had that dress made just for you. It is one of a kind.” You shook your head, trying to conjure up any other excuse, but coming up empty handed. “I don’t deserve to wear this.” You said as your shoulders slumped. It was embarrassing really, how harshly you looked down on yourself to the point where you couldn’t allow yourself to enjoy the fact that you were on a whole other planet, let alone dating a god.

He placed his hands on your waist lovingly, turning you around so that you faced him.

“That’s nonsense and you know it.” He said sternly. “You are more deserving than anyone in the cosmos. You have hung the stars, my love.” His hands innocently traced your body, no lust in his intentions as he looked at you earnestly. “You are gorgeous. Perhaps the most enchanting woman I have ever met. It kills me, my sun, to hear you speak of yourself this way.” Your heart beat fast in your chest as his hands cupped your full, rounded cheeks that he adored so much.

“Loki I…” You went to say, but he was quick to cut you off. “No, I refuse to listen to such ridiculous words.” He then in turn, grabbed the dress and handed it to you. “You are my queen, and a queen deserves everything pleasant the universe has to offer, but,” He said with an airy laugh, “A dress is a great way to start.”

And for a moment, you believed him.

Same!!! I always have this thought in my head of Wayne telling eddy’s girlfriend or Dustin or just a friend “His mothers dead. And his father is in prison for putting her in the ground.”

!!!!!!!!!!!! that dialogue!!!!!!!!!!!!!! tell the duffers they're out of a job and all it took was a fuckin sentence

i can just imagine like. eddie doesn't talk about his family or his past. just wayne. just his life after ten years old or so.

you don't ask about it. the one time you did he got uncharacteristically quiet. his face totally fell and he got really pale. like all the life just completely drained from him.

"i don't like talking about it," was all he said.

so you avoid the subject.

then one day you're chillin at the house (wayne was able to upgrade after the earthquake) when you find a family picture. they're rare, since what few photos wayne had were mostly lost when the upside down became the right side up, but you can tell this one was salvaged. it's of a younger wayne and a dark-haired woman, sitting at a table. in her arms is an infant with a stark patch of black curls.

"that's julia."

wayne startles you, the way he can always move around so quietly. he walks up next to you and lifts the photo from its place on the bookshelf, holding it so you can get a better look.

"eddie's mom."

"... what happened to her?"

wayne takes you into the kitchen and makes the two of you some coffee. he sets with the photo between the two of you on the table, silent for a while as he finds the words.

"julie was a good woman," he tells you. "had a kind heart. too kind. fell in with my bastard brother thinkin' she could fix him. all he did was beat her blind. when eddie was ten, she was gonna leave. move 'em to chicago. rob found out and wouldn't have none of it. beat her so bad she was unrecognizable. neighbors called the cops, rob was arrested, and julia died in the hospital. i thank god every day that eddie was asleep and didn't have to see none of it."

you notice that wayne's hand is shaking, so you take it to steady him. he grips you so hard your circulation threatens to stop.

"i loved julia like a sister. and she loved her little boy. he's the reason that sick son of a bitch will rot in prison for the rest of his life. went and testified in front of a whole courtroom about the abuse his father did to him. was only eleven."

both of you are weeping at this point. unbeknownst to you, eddie lingers in the hall, listening to his uncle's retelling and biting back his own tears.

"he grew up into a good man. got his mother's soul. handsome as the devil like his father without the evil behind his eyes. smart as a whip, too."

eddie clears his throat. you whirl around, swallowing thickly when you meet his eye. he smiles, the expression half-formed and broken at the edges, and joins you at the table.

"it's okay," he whispers. his voice is choked. "i'm okay."

a few weeks later he takes you to her grave. you bring flowers, and he introduces you to her as if she can actually hear him. maybe she can. the spot is so peaceful, you can almost imagine her sitting there with you, kissing your cheeks and welcoming you into her little corner of bliss.

you and eddie visit julia every year on her birthday after that. you pack a picnic, and eddie brings his guitar and you a book, and you spend the day there. he shares memories of her - how she taught him to sew, how she had the most beautiful singing voice, how her pancakes are still the best he's ever had.

it isn't too many years until you're holding a dark-haired infant of your own, propping her up in your lap as you settle into the blanket for another annual picnic. the little girl giggles as she reaches for her father, tugging locks of his mane and grasping at the guitar pick dangling from his neck (he chuckles when she puts it in her mouth).

you lean in close to the headstone and whisper, so only you and the universe can hear:

"her name is julia."

Carlos Sainz

#cs55🌶️

Lando Norris

I Would Follow You Into Mordor

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

word count: 1.3k

summary: when eddie starts to doubt himself, you're there to remind him how loved he is.

“Do you ever regret saying yes to me?”

Your head snaps down to look at your lover of almost one year. “What?”

You knew Eddie had his insecurities and his doubts, but it was almost never brought up out of the blue like this.  “Do you ever regret saying yes to being my girlfriend?” Eddie repeats with a tight voice.

You knew something was up when he came home from school, sat down at his desk without so much as a look in your direction, and began working on his next D&D campaign.

“Eds, where is this coming from?” You attempt to lift his head with your hand but he burrows further into your neck with a noise of protest. You let out a small sigh before saying, “Eddie, I will never regret you. Ever.”

His jaw clenches and his grip around you tightens. You know he’s about to cry, so you hold him as tight as you possibly can. What brought this on? You have a feeling Jason and one of his dickhead friends had something to do with it, but you decide to let him tell you in his own time.

Eddie hates being vulnerable with others, he’d rather deal with his emotions on his own, not wanting to burden others. Now that he has you, though, he can’t seem to want to deal with it alone. He knows he can show you the darkest and most scarred parts of him and you would love him all the same. That doesn’t stop the doubts and insecurities from fogging his knowledge of that, though. 

“I love you,” he says in a voice so low you wouldn’t have been able to hear it if he wasn’t so close. You can feel your heart breaking inside of your chest, not knowing if the crack in his voice was from the low tone he was using or the tears threatening to spill in the juncture of your neck. 

“I love you too, Eds.”

You run your fingers through his curls as his breathing begins to pick up and stutter, hoping in vain to calm him down a bit. You hold him close as he cries, your own eyes welling up, but blinking them away almost immediately. You needed to be strong, to be able to comfort him the way he needed.

“Why?” He chokes out through his tears.

“Why what?” 

“Why do you love me?”

The question pauses your hands and your breathing, knowing you had to answer thoroughly. You’re not very good at telling him how you feel verbally, opting for doing things for him or writing him letters instead. 

Before you can answer though, he’s speaking again, this time with a quivering voice full of self-depreciation, “I don’t have anything to offer you,” he lets out a sharp breath. “I can’t give you the life you deserve. I can’t take you to fancy restaurants or buy you fancy clothes. I’m a good for nothing-"

“Stop,” you interrupt with a soft but firm voice. “Don’t talk about yourself like that,” he scoffs and pulls to move away but you keep him held to your chest. “Eddie, you really don’t know do you?”

This time you allow him to pull away. He glances down at you with his glassy red eyes that are full of sadness. “Know what?”

“How much I love you,” you softly smile and move so both of you are sitting facing each other on his bed. You move the bangs away from his face and cup his cheek. He opens his mouth to speak but you shake your head, letting him know you weren’t done. He closes his mouth, stares at you, and waits. He wants to hear what you’re gonna say, he needs to.

“You have shown me a love I thought only existed in movies. One I’ve dreamed of having since I was a little girl. I never thought I was going to find someone to love me the way I wanted to be, until I found you. You make me feel a way I’ve never felt before and I never want to feel another way again. You are the best thing in my life, Eddie. I wouldn’t trade you for anything. Not even Rob Lowe,” he laughs at that and feels his heart warming. He knows how you feel about Rob Lowe.

“Yeah,” you continue. “Not even Rob could make me take my eyes off of you,” —you kiss his forehead and wipe newly fallen tears from his cheeks— “I don’t want to live my life with anyone else. You are the best thing that’s ever happened to me and I wish you could see how amazing you are. You deserve everything good in this world. I will continue to do my damndest to prove to you how worthy of every ounce of my love you are. You deserve love and happiness more than anyone I know, Eds.“

As soon as you finish, he’s launching himself at you, and crying for a different reason. You let your own tears fall this time, and they cascade down into his pretty brunette curls. “Thank you,” he cries while giving the space between your collarbones a kiss. 

You don’t reply, instead lifting his head to kiss him on the lips. It’s full of all the love, passion, and adoration you both feel for each other; it’s almost enough to cause a new wave of tears to come to your eyes. “Eddie,” you whisper.

“Hm?” he says after pulling away to put his face into your neck, kissing the skin there.

“Want me to prove my love to you even more?” He sighs out a desperate yes before clutching to you tighter and bringing you into his lap. You softly push him away from your neck to kiss him, slowly trailing up to his ear. 

The little noises he is letting out sends fire to your lower abdomen, he has no idea what he does to you even while doing nothing. As you reach just below his ear with your lips, he lets out a real moan as he grabs your waist with a vice-like grip that has you almost letting out a moan of your own.

You push it down, however, to whisper in his red-tipped ear, “I would follow you into Mordor.”

His grip on your wait loosens as he leans back to look at you. The smile on his face is so soft that you can feel your insides melting. “My sweet girl,” he exhales a laugh, pushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “Now that convinced me you actually do love me.”

You let out a dramatic gasp and playfully swat at his chest. “And my whole speech where I poured my heart out didn’t convince you of that, Edward?”

He grasps at the place where you hit, letting out a groan of faux pain before flopping onto his back in the bed. “Your speech was beautiful, but I take Tolkien more to heart, baby.” 

He laughs as you try to get off of his lap, grabbing you and pulling you down to his chest. You scowl at him, before a smile ultimately breaks out across your face. “You’re a nerd, you know that?”

“You’re the one who brought up Lord of the Rings first!” He exclaims leaning forward to blow a wet raspberry on your cheek. You squeal and try to move your face away, but he grips your jaw with both hands, locking you in place.

He continues the raspberry assault on your entire face before finally pulling back to admire his work. Your face is shiny with a small pout adorning your mouth. It makes him want to kiss you, so he does (no raspberry this time, thank god) while giggling. Eddie looks at you, admiring every inch of your face. He’s never loved anyone this way before, fully reciprocating every word you said to him just a few minutes prior. You are his forever. He will want you in every life, no matter what. Nobody will ever and could never compare to you.

How did he get so lucky?

He stares into your eyes, a serious look on his face, but with a smile playing on his lips and he says, “I too would follow you into Mordor.”