Delicateflappizzaplaid - E.

All the fics about Eddie with his soft tummy, pretty bellybutton, light haired happy trail and beard omg. I just cannot with soft soft tummy 🥹

Softness

Eddie Munson has the most edible body you have ever encountered. He’s not built like a model, he’s not massive or cut or particularly reminiscent of the hunks plastered in those shitty magazines your mom reads.

But his narrow waist just invites you to curl your arms around it. His slim ass is practically just asking to be grabbed. His arms are stronger than one would think, and in the summer when he wears diy tanktops made of old cut up band tees, you practically salivate any time he crosses his arms. Sometimes you even go out of your way to annoy him just so he’ll fold his arms over his chest in the way that accentuates his firm biceps making you swoon.

But the part of him just begging for your attention the most is his stomach. When his shirts ride up and display the light trail of hair leading down into the waistband of his boxers? Fuck. You go lightheaded on sight.

You’re drawn like a magnet, practically throwing yourself at his body anytime he reaches up for something or pulls off a sweater - any motion that could possibly expose your favorite part of him. Your hand moves of its own accord, a moth to a flame, sliding over his hair and skin and relishing in the warmth. The softness of him. Because Eddie is lean, but there is a softness to him that makes you salivate. The slightest rounding of his edges that makes him so comfortable to fold into. So easy to melt against. So easy to bite.

“You alright there, Grabby Hands McGee?” he asks you with a laugh as your palm meets his lower stomach like clockwork when he reaches for a cereal bowl. You’d appeared at his side out of nowhere, but he takes it in stride, wrapping the hand not reaching into the cabinet around your shoulders to pull you against his body.

“Just love feeling you, Eds,” you hum happily, burying your face in the crook of his shoulder and smoothing your hand in a circle on his belly. Fingers sliding through the sparse soft hair. He hums right back and places a kiss on top of your head, lowering his arm to settle the cereal bowl on the counter.

With his two hands now free, he shifts to face you and cups your face on either side. Both of your hands have now moved to rub at his belly, obscured now by his shirt hem which has settled back into place. Eddie keeps his eyes closed for a moment while he rests his forehead against yours. Savoring the feeling of your hands on his body.

When he opens his eyes and straightens up, he peers down at you with a crinkling smirk.

“Hate to tell you, sweets, but if you keep touching me like that you’re gonna feel me inside you pretty soon,” he says with a chuckle.

°•☆Heavenly Touch☆•°

♦️ Bucky Barnes x Reader ♦️

A/N: Just soft, fluffy blurb of Bucky in the tub getting his hair washed cause I’m in a sappy mood today 😔

Words: 650

Bucky Masterlist

☆☆☆

Few things in the world are as heavenly as your hands on his scalp, Bucky’s sure of it. Not food. Not sleep. Not se…Well, scratch that. 

Being inside you, all tight and warm around him is the best feeling in the world.

But your soft hands…massaging and pressing into his scalp, running through his brown locks with patience and care, it’s a definite close second.

It started simply. You offered to wash Bucky’s hair as it seemed so…greasy. And Bucky got a little embarrassed, because he forgot. He always forgets little things that people do and it’s a good thing you’re there to remind him, to ground him. With you, becoming Bucky Barnes again, finding Bucky Barnes, or at least the shattered pieces scattered through his psyche, feels easier. 

As Bucky slumps backwards in the tub, his thick muscles clench and unclench. Tension melts from his limbs beneath your soft touch. He basks in the tender press of your fingers and his mouth parts, long lashes fluttering closed. A low, sultry hum, veering on erotic, escapes his throat. 

"Guess I’m really hitting your sweet spot, huh?" you tease, pulling Bucky from his trance. 

There’s a rosy hue to his cheeks as he bashfully replies, wet chestnut locks hanging in his face, "Sorry…"

You wrap your arms around his neck and drop a gentle kiss on his broad shoulder. 

"Hey, no need to be embarrassed," you whisper. "I’m glad I can make you feel good."

Bucky sinks into silence. It’s not unusual, when he gets into one of his moods. But there’s a wrinkle in his brow that makes you inquire.

You caress his stubbled jaw. 

"Is there something on your mind?" 

He swallows a deep breath, his blue eyes dimming, shadows engulfing them. 

"I was never touched like that…back there," he whispers, almost too quietly for you to hear. 

You give a slow nod.

He doesn’t need to elaborate his meaning for you to understand he’s talking about Hydra and his time as the Winter Soldier. 

Bucky’s lips tremble as his eyes get glassy. Your stomach knots at the sight. He struggles to get the rest of the words out, his voice breaking. 

"Either I wasn’t touched or…touched in a bad way."

Your insides wrench. He never talks about it. The air in the bathroom is heavier, more stifling as Bucky’s gaze gets lost. For a minute, you lose him, to awful memories, to pain and loss. It’s all written on his face. 

Your chest is hollow as you helplessly watch him go through this. 

Your hands roam over his shoulders as you rest your chin in the crook of his neck. 

"I wish I could say something to make it better."

His big, warm hands cover yours, drawing circles into your wrists, reveling in that simple touch. There’s not a minute together Bucky doesn’t marvel and linger in touching you, smelling you, soaking in your essence.

Like he wants to remember you with just his hands, carve your memory deep in his skin, so it can never be taken.

"You don’t have to," he rasps, brushing his lips against the back of your hands, eyes falling shut. "This…makes everything better." A peaceful lilt courses through his tone. "You make everything better, doll."

Butterflies dance in your belly with his words.

Before you can respond, Bucky suddenly rises from inside the tub. Droplets glisten off his naked, muscular frame, dripping to the floor as he climbs out of the tub. 

A stunned shriek tumbles out of you when he picks you up and swoops you in his arms, careful not to squeeze you too tight with his metal arm.

"Bucky, what are you doing?" you gasp, your gaze widening. 

He sends you a crooked grin that makes your chest flutter. 

"You made me feel better. It’s only fair I make you feel better too, doll," he purrs suggestively, striding to your bedroom with confidence.

Crawl home to her

Bucky Barnes x fem!enhanced!reader

Summary - Bucky's nightmares never seem to stop, and he despises himself for dragging you down with him.

Word count - 1.7k

Warnings - Angst, descriptions of torture, descriptions of seizures, PTSD, mentions of blood, sad fluff at the end.

A/N - Reader does have powers in this fic which aren't really explained but hopefully they're easy to understand, I kind of imagine them to be similar to Wanda's in certain aspects. Also, apologies if my writing is kinda wordy in this, I kinda went off on one and couldn't stop. Enjoy :)

The title is based off a lyric from work song by hozier.

__________________________

It was like something carved from a horror movie.

The giant, hulking figure emerging from the chamber, the surrounding air clouded with vapor so cold it burned to the touch.

His face was concealed, a black mask and goggles hiding the human features beneath, with silver, reflective metal taking the place of his left arm, gleaming in the yellow overhead lights. He looked solely like something built for destruction.

The soldier was put in the chair before he could even comprehend that he was awake.

They had strapped his wrists to metal, encasing his head in a familiar contraption and his mouth was forced open by rough hands on his jaw, rubber shoved between his teeth.

He was vaguely aware of the routine. Everything was familiar in a way that made his skin crawl and his hair stand on end, but for all he knew, there was no reason to be scared, soldiers don't feel fear, and emotion only gets in the way of the mission.

He could barely taste the bitterness of the rubber before he heard the whir of a machine begin, and he was so mind-numbingly cold that he could almost barely feel the electricity suddenly tearing through his skull.

He didn't scream, he barely moved, and it would be easy to wonder if he could even feel it, or if pain was just another thing that Hydra took from him, just to strip him even further of his humanity, but he felt every second, his body just too in shock to react, convulsing in his restrains.

The agony seemed to last hours, pain so intense that he could barely breathe, but the machine eventually came to a slow halt, the rubber taken from his mouth, and the soldier heaved his first full breath in what felt like years, the cold air filling his lungs too fast and ripping back through his oesophagus in painful coughs.

Once the coughing had ended, he let his head fall back against the leather beneath him.

His veins were on fire, crawling in his skin as icy heat travelled up his forearm and carved its way through his neck, residing in his temples with a throbbing headache. His jaw ached, as did every single muscle in his body and when he rolled his eyes open, he found that the bright lights surrounding him kept him blind to the people standing in the room, crowding around the soldier writhing and twitching in the chair as if he was some kind of circus monkey to be watched for their amusement.

He managed to unclench his fists and release his jaw, feeling his body go lax for a few seconds before he felt a spike in his heart rate, his muscles tensing against his will as his eyes rolled back.

Then he was gone, unaware of the stares of the doctors writing on their notepads when he began seizing for the first time this session. None of them stepped forward, not a single medic attempted to check on the soldier, or wipe the blood that spilled from his lips when his teeth clamped down onto his tongue.

He was only given a few seconds of refuge after the seizure had ended, before he was torn away again, his body taken with another, and another, and another. It was endless.

His chest spasming with every gasping breath, every muscle in his body clenched painfully. He wasn't present enough to see a man in a white coat move closer to him, positioning the headpiece over his face again and this time not even bothering with the mouthguard before the electricity returned, and his brain caught fire again.

This time, he screamed until the sound died in his throat and his vocal cords refused to make any more noise. A vague image of a man with blonde hair, standing straight with a shield pulled to his chest, flashed behind his eyes, and a part of him felt relieved at the sight, as if the man in his memories could somehow save him from this living hell, but the thought disappeared before he could even acknowledge it, and this time, when the machine finally stopped, he passed out before he could feel the after affects, pulled under when his body and mind could no longer handle the agony, deciding to just completely shut down instead.

______________________

You woke with a start, Bucky's harrowing scream beside you as you sat up so fast your head spun, and you stretched out an arm into the darkness, searching for the table lamp to your right and wasting no time in turning it on, bathing your bedroom in warm light.

Crawling onto your knees, tears were already forming wet tracks down your cheeks as your lover cried out in his sleep, his eyes darting back and forth rapidly behind his eyelids, hair stuck to his forehead, bare chest glistening with a sheen of sweat as he heaved for breath.

You reached for him and pressed your hand against his forehead, no hesitation as your eyes glowed unnaturally in the dim light, forcing Bucky awake with your ability.

There was no way you'd let him sleep through that one, no matter what his therapist demands.

Bucky's eyes tore open as he gasped for air, staring up at the ceiling with wide, unblinking eyes.

"Bucky?" You asked quietly, not wanting to risk startling him further as your hand hovered over his shaking form.

He looked at you, relief flashing in his eyes before he eyed the tears dripping down your chin and his mind clouded with guilt.

It was too often that you found yourself falling into Bucky's dreams. And no matter how many times you tried to convince him that it wasn't his fault, he'd never believe you, he knew better, and he knew how your powers worked.

He pulled himself up, resting his back against the headboard and letting his eyes fall shut for a moment, listening to your racing heartbeat with the saddest look on his face. He then opened his eyes, a tear of his own falling down his cheek as he looked at you and parted his lips with a shaky breath, "I did it again, didn't I?"

His voice sounded broken, shot from all the screaming he had done before, it broke your heart and you leapt forward, wrapping your arms around him and letting him hold you tightly, clutching you to his frame as he cried, repeating over and over how sorry he was.

You stroked his hair affectionately as you both cried.

"It's okay Buck, it's not your fault."

He was so distraught by his nightmares, that he was reaching out for you in his sleep, pulling you from your own mind and trapping you into his, forcing you to witness the horrific things that Bucky endured, or the things that he did.

Each time it happened, he blamed himself, despising the fact that he was forcing you to live his trauma, but you would never stop reminding him that it was okay, you'd seen much worse, and he would always be worth it.

Sometimes a deep-rooted, selfish part of him would be glad for your abilities, he doesn't have to explain to you the horrors he had faced in his past, you'd seen them for yourself, lived his darkest moments through his own eyes, but then the guilt would creep in, washing away the thoughts every time he woke up trembling with fear, and you'd be there beside him, shaking just the same.

He apologised to you again as the tears came to a slow stop, his face still buried in the crook of your neck, shivering against you when your fingers dragged softly across his spine, soothing him just the way you always did.

You pulled back this time, hand reaching for his jaw when he refused to look at you, tilting his head for his eyes to meet yours, and your face was serious as you spoke.

"You have nothing to apologise for, James. I want to help. If I couldn't handle this, love, I wouldn't be here, but I love you, and I want to stay." You assured him, your gaze flicking between his eyes, urging him to believe you, to stop carrying this guilt he had no reason to carry.

"I just- You don't need to see any of that." He whispered back, eyes red and bloodshot, breath shaky.

You smiled softly at him, your right hand sliding to the back of his neck, as you pushed his head down to yours, resting your forehead against his, noses brushing together, a simple action so intense and intimate that Bucky gulped, his eyebrows tightly furrowed.

"I'm okay, Bucky, I promise you, I'm okay," Your warm breath fanned against his lips as you spoke, and his eyes fluttered shut, "I just want to take care of you."

A shaky breath fell from his lips, cursing the tears that threatened to return at such simple words, but fuck if they didn't hit him hard.

He couldn't remember a time when someone had wanted to take care of him, not since he was a young boy, before his father died, before he had to step up to take care of his mother and sisters, working illegal shifts at the local factory at the age of 15.

But you wanted to take care of him.

He leaned forward and locked his lips with yours, his hands reaching out to pull you closer and closer in hopes that you'd eventually sink into his chest, finally close enough that his constant need for your touch would be satiated.

He broke away to speak against your lips, so magnetised to your kiss that he couldn't possibly pull back far enough to breathe air that wasn't your own, "Thank you."

Lando Norris

← Main Masterlist

The incredibly annoying guy with the staring problem.

Sebastian Stan as Bucky Barnes in “The Falcon and The Winter Soldier” 2021.

It's literally them

• Friday Lando

• DJ Lando

• Ice Cream Lando

• Let's Go Lando!

• Rollercoaster Lando

• ln4

• First Win

← Main Masterlist