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#i’m soft
frudoo · 28 days
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Simon Riley kisses with everything he has—everything he is. He leaves you breathless long before his lips ever touch yours. Gently running his fingers through your hair, or cupping your face with one hand, thumb rubbing along your bottom lip. His honeyed brown eyes are so full of life as they stare into yours and it feels like he’s picking apart your soul just with his gaze. Just before you get the chance to break the tension, find some relief, he does it for you, closing the expectant space between the two of you. His lips part deliberately, gently slotting between yours with careful, practiced ease because he wants it to be perfect for you every single time.
Simon Riley kisses with nothing short of perfection; maybe it’s the military in him that makes him need to perform flawlessly, or maybe it’s the way you look at him like he’s human that makes him want to cherish you, convince you—or himself, though he’d never admit it—that he can make you happy. He’s obsessed with you, the softness of your lips, the taste he craves on a long, grueling mission. Perhaps that’s why he devours you when he comes back home, kissing you like his life depends on it, because it does. He suckles on your bottom lip like a newborn to its mother’s breast—you’re his life source and he’s drinking you up. You nourish him and don’t even realize it until he’s cradling the back of your head, pulling you in impossibly close.
Simon Riley refuses to pull away first, a low whine escaping his throat when you do part. You pant, desperate to catch your breath but all too willing to let him steal it again as his tongue slides into the gap of your mouth, running along your teeth. He’s uncaring of the sloppiness, immune to the feeling of slobber running down his chin. All that matters is you and every inch of that perfect mouth that tells him you’re his. No matter where his hands are initially, they’ll wind up beneath your shirt, trailing up your back and tracing mindless patterns on your soft skin. The skin that reminds him that there is a life worth living, even if you’re the only one that cares—and care, you do, in the way you suck his hungry tongue into your mouth, just as eager as he is.
Simon Riley, who was so afraid to love, finds it hard to adore you with anything less than his entire heart.
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bl4ckth0rn3 · 1 year
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Say what you want but I reckon that the kindest, most beautiful, kinda most badass, and definitely most downright fucking romantic line in the whole Six of Crows duology will always be…
‘I can read to him.’
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davidtennan-t · 3 months
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a proud uncle 🥹
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peoneys · 1 year
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Last time people were requesting the Solass, here it is AH
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leclercskiesahead · 8 months
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urcumslutt · 1 year
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coffeebooh · 2 years
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last post of the night, but again: m’gann and dick’s friendship is smth that can be so personal to me
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navnae · 1 year
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Okay but now I have another cute little Hc about Steve always pulling out his wallet and running to the nearest store whenever anyone in the party mentions even the littlest thing that interests them but with Eddie it’s gotten a little bit overboard. Eddie will mention how he saw something in the mall in passing and says how he thought it looked cool, not really hinting at any form of wanting it. In Steve’s ear all he hears “Eddie likes, Eddie gets.” That explains why Eddie has so many gifts from Steve even though he never asked for any of them and honestly it’s just Steve’s way of making Eddie used to him spoiling him.
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rainbat · 1 year
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Wayne Family Adventures #65
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silverfoxlink · 3 months
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WHOLESOME DAY TODAY FOLKS
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Link’s smile is so precious 🥲
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Rhett’s hugs must feel so warm 🥹
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Thank you for your work and contribution to Mythical, Morgan Morgan! We’re all going to miss you! 🤍
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elliesmith33 · 9 months
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The sweetest moments with the sweetest baby 😭❤️
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hunterrrs · 2 years
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PUPPIES!!
too much cute
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roguelov · 9 months
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Pleaseee! (Im Mexican so my English is pretty broken, sorry) imagine Dream’s reaction at reader being a virgin, like in every single way (has never kissed anyone before, never dated anyone and never had sex with anyone else)
No need to apologize! Your English is perfect!
I just want to scream into the abyss at this idea! Dream would be so surprised at first only to be very sweet and attentive with you
You glanced away from Dream. Your small confession still lingered in the air between the two of you. Dream was stunned a little. You hadn’t experienced anything romantic or sexual: no first kiss, no dates, and definitely no sex.
You crossed your arms, hating the silence. “I … I just thought you should at least know.”
Dream nodded slowly, “And I thank you for sharing such personal information.”
Your cheeks started to feel hot, and your whole body was tense. God, this was embarrassing.
“May … may I ask why?”
“It just never happened,” you sighed heavily. “Life went one way for me I guess.”
Dream slowly approached you. He gently cupped your cheek, making you look at him. “There is no need to be embarrassed or upset. We can take it as slow as you want.”
You leaned your head into his palm. Any and all tension melted away. “Thank you.”
He kissed your forehead, and a warmth spread over you. “You’re welcome, my dear.”
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kazlicya-art · 1 year
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I’m home.
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munsuneddie · 2 years
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thinkin about going to a pumpkin patch with eddie.
he picks you up one day unannounced, insistently ringing your doorbell until you finally swing it open. it’s 9 in the morning, who the hell was ringing your bell like a psychopath?
“eddie?” figures. “what are you doing here so early?”
he stands in your doorway with a grin so wide, you actually fear for his well-being.
“pumpkin patch!” he holds his arms out as if to behold! something, but it’s just his shitty old van. “i’m taking you to a pumpkin patch, baby! hurry - get dressed, it’s an hour away and we have to get the best pumpkins.”
“an hour?” you raise your eyebrows at him and fold your arms across your chest, awfully aware that you were in your pj’s still. “where the hell is this pumpkin patch?”
eddie shushes you by urging you up your stairs to change, and well, if he wasn’t just so damn cute in his flannel and familiar ripped jeans. so you change, going for the same kind of vibe your boyfriend had gone for - one that’s perfect for pumpkin picking. (try saying that 10 times fast).
and that’s how you find yourself an hour out of town in 40° weather at 10 am, searching a vast farm for eddie’s perfect pumpkin. he spends an hour listlessly walking around until he finally spots the biggest, roundest pumpkin at the patch.
“she’s the one, sweetheart,” he whispers, bending down to gently pat the pumpkin he’d later carve into.
“she? really, eddie?” you roll your eyes but kneel down to his level to admire it alongside him.
it really is the perfect pumpkin.
“c’mon, help me get her to the van.”
you’re hardly any help carrying the monstrous gourd across the patch to his van, but eddie doesn’t seem to mind. once the pumpkin is secure in his backseat - only after making a stupid joke about how she should get shotgun - eddie helps you pick out your’s. it’s an easy decision: you pick the one closest to you as well as one that seemed easiest to carry alone.
when the two of you finally get back to your house, it had started raining on the drive into town. you make haste bringing the pumpkins inside, eddie toweling off droplets from the fruits while you spread newspapers on your dining table.
“i’m gonna make the best fuckin jack-o-lantern in hawkins with this sucker,” he laughs and pats the pumpkin. “only question is: what will it be?”
when the two of you finally finish your masterpieces - your’s only taking about twenty minutes and his nearly an hour - you’re surprised to see what eddie’s done with his. you’d fully expected to see a terrifying face or maybe a horribly carved member from one his favorite bands. or even his guitar.
but instead, eddie had carved his name and yours followed by an equal sign and the word forever. the carving isn’t perfect - the lines are jagged and rough, and seeds and leftover guts spill from the letters. though, those details are hardly ones that you notice right away.
“eddie,” you coo, rushing over to wrap your arms around his torso. “that is so fucking corny, but so cute. i love it.”
eddie wraps his arms around you and pulls you closer into his chest, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head. the sound of thunder rolling above your house goes unnoticed.
“best jack-o-lantern in hawkins?” he mumbles into your hair and you giggle, nuzzling your face into his chest.
“yeah, baby. best jack-o-lantern in hawkins,” you assure him and press a kiss to his ribcage through the flannel. “maybe even best in the country.”
eddie scoffs and pulls you back so he can look at you. “country? sweetheart, you hurt me.” he places a hand on his chest as a way of showing you his broken heart.
“the world, eddie munson,” you whisper, meeting his big brown eyes. “it’s the best in the world, just like you.”
he grins down at you and leans in to press his lips into yours, kissing you deeply before swiftly pulling away.
“now who’s being corny?” he accuses, quickly taking it back when you swat at his chest. “kidding! can i see yours?”
eddie releases you from the embrace and bites back a laugh when you turn your pumpkin around to show him your artwork. you’d done a terrible job at trying to make the pumpkin cooperate with your vision - and all that was left was a stick figure of eddie.
“who - who is that, baby?” he manages to stave off his laughter. that is, until you answer.
“you, eddie! see the hair and guitar?” you ask him, pointing at the horribly carved pieces, knowing it’s a monstrosity.
“that’s a guitar?” he’s full on laughing at your pumpkin now, and you can’t help but to join him.
you end the night by putting lit tea lights in each pumpkin and setting them on your front porch, cozying up underneath a blanket on the couch and watching one of eddie’s favorite horror movies. the sound of rain echoes throughout the living room and above the quiet tv when eddie’s laughing at the thought of your jack-o-lantern again.
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skialdi · 1 year
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Warm-up doodle featuring a friends one piece oc/self insert, Chloris. She’s Shanks soft flower wife 🌸
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