Delicateflappizzaplaid - E.

Doodles and Dates (Eddie Munson x Reader)

Masterlist

Eddie Munson x Artist! Reader (She/Her)

Warnings: None

Synopsis: Eddie has fallen for the quiet girl he sits next to in class who’s always drawing.

Y/N notes: none

Wanna be on the Eddie Munson tag list? Look here!

Wanna request something? Look here!

Keep reading

Kissing Headcannons w/ Ledger!Characters

a/n: includes patrick verona, ledger!joker, william thatcher, skip engblom, and tony shepherd <3 + gender neutral reader!!

warnings: mentions of kissing + mild nsfw themes (18+)

Patrick Verona (10 Things I Hate About You)

If you had to narrow Patrick’s kisses down to one word it would be tender. The man kisses you with so much love and compassion that you swear all the blood in your body turns into sugar from how sweet he is. One quick peck and your entire body tingles. Tiny little fireworks exploding inside of you and rattling your bones. On the flip side, your skin bursts into flames when he presses his lips against that certain spot on your neck. He always chuckles at your tiny huff when ever he does kiss you there. You swear he’s pure magic.

Sneaky kisses are one of Pat’s top secret skills. Out and about in public with him but you’re both needy? No worries. He’ll pull you into an empty hallway or vacant room, out of sight from wandering eyes, and give you all the kisses you need right then and there.

He also enjoys giving you forehead kisses at any time of day. He’ll run his fingers through your hair and press his lips on the center of your forehead. It makes your knees weak and heart grow a million sizes. He can’t believe how lucky he is to have someone like you in his life.

Ledger!Joker (The Dark Knight)

J’s kisses are all-consuming. He surrounds your senses like a cloud of black smog hung high over Gotham’s skyline. It’s intense and sharp in a good way. Your first kiss with him isn’t exactly romantic as it was messy, but you wouldn’t change it for the world. Purple leather gloves gripping the back of your neck, stealing all the breath from your lungs. Holding onto his wool trench coat for dear life. Greasepaint staining your skin, a semi-permanent reminder that you’re his.

And of course, his scars. They’re intriguing when you see them for the first time. But when kissing him, it isn’t what you expected at all. You thought they were going to be uncomfortable and scratchy against your skin because they were jagged and healed so roughly. Oh, how you were wrong. They add a unique quality to J’s kisses. They do not hurt you in the slightest. In fact, they are very plush. It’s beautiful, something terribly tragic blooming into something passionate.

J is quite handsy with you. Of course with this comes a lot of biting and nipping at your neck. He loves leaving deep, angry bruises all over as another reminder that he’s the only one who makes you feel the ways that you do. You can never resist him and his touch. Though, you would never tell him that. He already knows it through the way you kiss him.

William Thatcher (A Knight’s Tale)

Oh my goodness, precious William. He surprises you. At first, his kisses were reserved and shy. Whispering against your lips and tentatively asking you questions: “Was that okay?” or “What else would you like?”. It’s incredibly endearing. You later learn it’s because he has not kissed many people before, which makes your stomach flutter with millions of butterflies. As strong as he may be and as much energy he gives away in different jousting arenas, he’ll always be your innocent knight in shining armor.

One thing that you come to find out about Will as your relationship progresses is that he absolutely loves hearing the noises you make when you kiss. He cannot get enough of you. To him, you’re the most powerful drug in the entire universe. Hearing you whine out his name, breathing and sighing deeply for him… It spurs him into a frenzy. You both know that those special noises are for his ears only. Simply put, his kisses make you feel completely whole.

And it’s no surprise that Will is a romantic. He brings you as his date to every ball he can physically attend. He’s so giddy and loves dancing (and drinking lots of wine & food) with you. Hand kisses are exchanged all night, of course. His soft lips pressed gently against the top of your hand which makes you (and him) turn bright red. It’s a simple gesture, but you can’t help to adore his tiny displays of affection.

Skip Engblom (Lords of Dogtown)

Oh, Skip. Skip’s kisses are pure understanding. When you kiss each other, you’re on the exact same page. Hell, you’re on the same line of the exact same book. You’re just two puzzle pieces meant to be together.

Your first kiss though, you’ll never forget. You worked night shifts here and there at the Zephyr Surf Shop for Skip. You two have known each other for years. He’s always appreciated your time and company. Giving an extra hand if he’s running behind on orders doesn’t even feel like working for him. It’s just you & an old friend who you happened to have a big crush on. It’s no big deal, right?

After finishing up late one night, Skip wanted to walk you out to your car: “Listen, Y/N, it isn’t safe in Dogtown at this time of night. Let me walk you out to your car.” You didn’t argue because you knew he was right, even if you were parked just outside the front doors. Warmth spread through your belly as he stood right beside you, protecting you the whole way.

Skip started to express his gratitude (and how guilty he felt because he wasn’t paying you) when you had cut him off: “No, no, Skip. I’ll always help out anytime, free of charge. Anything for you. I mean it.” You reached out to run your hand down his arm. His eyes flickered down as if your hand had dragged bright green paint across his exposed skin. A breath got caught in your throat and your wide eyes suddenly connect with his.

And in that moment, everything slotted into place. A million emotions were rushing in your brain as you kissed each other against the driver’s side window of your car, but the one word short-circuiting in your brain was: Home. Skip was your home.

No matter where you happen to be sleeping that night, Skip always manages to wake you up in the morning by gently pressing his lips to your neck. He watches you stir, eyes fluttering. He’s as warm as early sunshine spilling through open windows and you couldn’t ask for anything better.

Tony Shepherd (The Imaginarium of Doctor Parnassus)

Ever since the complete disaster Anton caused a week ago that resulted in the Parnassus trailer, aka. your home getting basically destroyed, everything has gone to shit. Well… not everything. There’s Tony. Where do you even begin with life before Tony?

You can’t really recall exactly how or when you joined the Imaginarium team, but you had proved your potential to everyone right away. You drew spectators in and let the others talents shine. It all felt so… natural. You fit in perfectly with this family of misfits.

Then comes Tony. Your whole world was turned upside down when you discovered the hanged man on the bridge. It was like a switch flipped on inside of you. Two bright lights connecting in a pitch black world.

Tony found you sitting on the stage of the trailer one night. That’s when you shared your first kiss. He knew you had been stressed about what was to come now that the only place to perform the show was shattered to bits: “Sweetheart, don’t worry I have a plan. It’s a bit of a change, but that never hurt anyone, did it?”. That’s the thing about Tony. He always seems to be five steps ahead of everyone else.

After chatting about the next course of action, you felt his hand travel from resting on your shoulder to stroking your cheek lovingly. The close heat of his hand reassuring you that it was going to be okay. That he was there for you. You felt your body being drawn in closer to his by some fateful force. His slow breath fanned against your cheek and shot sparks down your spine. His hand was still placed on your cheek, too afraid to make any sudden movements that could tear you away from him. From this moment. His lips finally connected with yours and you were breathless. All of the oxygen in the atmosphere was suddenly gone. All you felt was the warmth of him. The warmth of you two, together. Like dim streetlights reflecting on rain soaked sidewalks. It couldn’t have been more perfect.

You’ve come to learn that Tony’s mouth (and hands) tend to wander late at night. He can’t help it that your twin bed in this god forsaken trailer can’t comfortably house two full adults. You barely get enough rest as it is. So you resort to more intimate activities, hoping that sleep might come a little bit easier afterwards.

Knowing his kisses always leaves you wanting more, he happily obliges along to your all of your needs. He will always love touching you in the softest places overflowing with the deepest pleasure. Your breathy gasps as his mouth trails across your neck while his broad hands stroke your chest. Your whole body aches for him. Soon enough, his hands finally wander down, down, down…

“You know, love, we should have been doing this a lot sooner if we both couldn’t sleep.” “Oh, shut up.”

°•☆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 pop when we get intimate...”

← Main Masterlist

This Eddie aesthetic is so pretty

Oscar Piastri

#op81🦘

← Main Masterlist

Ln4

You and Eddie laying down together on his bed while he writes up the next arc of his dnd campaign????

He’s shirtless. Propped up just enough to be able to write comfortably and you’re (in your comfiest pjs) fully laying down between his legs with your head on his tummy. Your time is mostly spent listening as he mumbles little ideas to himself, humming along happily whenever he has any sort of break through, and pressing little pecks to his pretty, soft skin whenever you feel the need. Sometimes he get so excited about an idea and literally uses your head to stabilize his notebook so he can scribble it down faster— his legs wiggling all hyperactive on either side of your body like he’s gonna explode if the words don’t get out of him fast enough.

Pretty boy lets you take a peek at whatever he’s got written down bc he knows you aren’t gonna spoil anything for the rest of hellfire (no matter how much Dustin tries to beg, bribe, or blackmail the details out of you) His face lights up with the biggest, fondest grin whenever you make any comments on the parts you like or even when you ask questions about the things you don’t quite understand yet bc he’s just SO happy you’re taking interest in something he cares so much about.

You always end up giving him endless amounts of praise for his writing/storytelling abilities. And, you leave NO room for him to argue or deflect— eyes so honest and true as you stare him down, tone of voice showing every inch of admiration you have for him in a way that makes him feel like there’s a lump in his throat. Gets his eyes all shiny and he has to look away before his bottom lip starts to wobble or something silly like that. By the end of the night you’re all tucked up in his arms as he reads his ideas out loud to you, because even though you’ve already read through most of it you insist it’s not the same if he isn’t doing the character voices himself. (And secretly you just like having an excuse to hear him speak lol)

He’s got one hand resting on the back of your neck, warm and grounding while he balances his notebook in the other. He’s animated as always, albeit a little toned down as to not disturb you too much. Presses a little kiss to the top of your head to punctuate the end of each paragraph/idea.

You don’t always fall asleep like this, but when you do it’s really not your fault. You can blame the way his thumb rubs little soothing circles in the juncture of your neck. The low rumble of his voice that only gets deeper as he switches between characters. The warmth of his bare skin or the steady rise and fall of his chest beneath your cheek.

He doesn’t stop reading, even when he notices you’ve begun to lull, but his voice does get softer. Fonder, somehow. He’d never have the heart to nudge you awake, even when you eventually get so comfortable that you start to drool a tiny puddle onto his chest.

He’ll always have the heart to tease you about it whenever you wake up, though.