#Godddd writing that makes me squirm | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

tachimichishrine · 1 year ago

Note

First of all I must say that... THANK YOU VERY MUCH FOR THE VALUABLE CONTENT OF TACHIHARA, I NEED MORE OF THIS BEAUTY, I LOVE EACH OF YOUR WRITINGS AND... It's still going around in my head how the virgin Tachihara would react receiving his first oral, I need to see this guy cry 👏.

"first time"

⫭◦⨝◦⫬

virgin!tachihara michizou x fem! reader

▸◃▵pt 1 // pt 2 // pt 3▵▹◂

warnings: nsfw ; drug + alcohol use implied ; slight voyeurism/ public sex ; degradation ; masturbation (m) ; oral (giving) ; intended lowercase ; cursing ; pt 2 of ruining pre-hunting dogs tachi im making this a goddamn series and it's gonna have more episodes than one piece

the engine purred quietly when your grip on the wheel was loose and your toes dipped on the pedal. your windows were rolled down and the breeze was blowing through his ebony hair.

the scent of the damp night horizon mixed in quite nicely with the sensation of your fingers dancing up and down tachihara's leg. you were leaning back in the seat, a gentle laughter as you snuck glances at his expression.

"the night's still young," you murmured teasingly, thumb rubbing up on his inner thigh. "you sure you don't-"

"shut up." his voice was shaking a lot more than he cared to let on, the quiet sigh almost lost in the wind.

it was too easy. you could see the silhouette of the bulge in his pants from after you'd pulled him into an empty car and ruined him, and his face was doing a terrible job at concealing it. your eyes were trained on the street but every sense was honed in on his subtle squirming and the hitching of his breath.

"woah, someone's uptight. need some help letting loose?"

not a chance was given because your fingertips were getting way too close and he couldn't back his hips into the seat to shy away from your touch anymore. you swerved on the empty roads, running lights and accelerating brashly, partly because you wanted to instill in him the high pressure, blood-pumping adrenaline that your hazy mind was experiencing.

he let out a muffled whimper once you pushed down with the palm of your hand and rubbed along the length. you were high on the aftertaste of the blunt you'd been smoking and drunk on the control of having him come apart so easily when you increased the pressure and stole a husky groan from his chest. he was practically twitching in your grasp when you curled around him and handled him just a little harder.

"want me to pull over and take care of ya?" you asked, the words kind and considerate but the way you were almost jerking him off like you wanted him to break were anything but.

his ego wouldn't let him. "nah, I-I'm... mnnn I'm good."

you shrugged your shoulders with a coy smile. "if you say so."

the ride back was worse than he could've ever imagined. he figured you'd act like last time, when you wasted no time in sliding under layers of clothing and got straight to the point. maybe you were taking it easy before, and the fact that he was hard all over again just thinking about it was signal enough that you had the green light to do with him as you pleased yet you did nothing drastic.

he didn't know what to do with his hands. any action to shed a few garments resulted in you pulling off of him completely with a teasing 'tsk' like you weren't pleased he was trying to do something himself. it took begging - something he'd never thought he'd do - in the most lustful, pathetically needy pleads just to get you to go back to teasing him. the closest thing he got to relief was when you slid your hand up his shirt then down his pants to keep playing with him without ever making skin-to-skin contact.

tachihara let out a frustrated groan. "please, stop fuckin' with me, and just-"

"fuck you?" you completed the thought, giggling at yourself while he kept shifting himself on the seat to get you to be as close as possible. "you wait this long and suddenly you're so impatient, tachi. what ever happened to good things come to those who wait?"

his mind wanted to tell you to shut the hell up with your perky responses but it was busy being corroded by pulsating senses shooting up his body. he couldn't handle it anymore; you oscillated between a slower and a faster pace in order to give him the one he didn't want. if it wasn't for his need for you to do it for him, he would've pounded himself just for a temporary escape from the embarrassing situation of moaning in the stolen car in front of you. he tried to cover it up with more curses but every attempt was getting further and further away from fooling everyone.

it was a wonder how you hadn't gotten him to cum in his pants from the stimulation alone by the time you'd arrived back at the apartment. who knows whose it was, all you cared about was that your gang of misfits crashed there every night and right now the windows were flashing bright colours and you could basically hear the music from down where you were.

"so that's what those dickheads have been doin'," you remark as if nothing had been happening, climbing out of the vehicle you'd parked and taking a look upwards. "that's too bad, I'm sure you would've preferred privacy."

"I would've preferred...?"

his half-formulated question received a half-formulated answer when you pulled him by the wrist onto the side of the building, an alleyway that was dirty and grimy and dark and perfect for what you were about to do.

"mmnf~" he had a hard time resisting, let alone taking charge when you had his slammed against yet another hard surface with your hands all over him and your lips grinding up on him almost as roughly as your hips. if he wasn't already stimulated, bringing up your thigh to the side of his hip in order to hump yourself on him was the final straw.

"shit, don't make me ask again," tachihara tried to say forcefully but one roll of your clothed cunt got him nearly apologizing and begging you to be nice. there was no way you were going to let him brat tonight.

"better," you considered, your hand going back down to where it had previously ventured, but this time sliding under both pants and underwear in one fell swoop. there wasn't enough space, his pants taking the brunt of the aggression when you yanked your wrist back and the button popped off. he barely had time to register that you'd done away with his belt again when you were jerking him off so expertly he felt his body go weak and whole world blur.

maybe he was inexperienced, but maybe you were just too good: your command for him to spit in your hand brought another layer of red over his features, but goddamn was it worth it when you were lubing him up with his own saliva while pulling and pushing with talented fingers. you toyed with the end, which you could guess would be flushed a pretty pink if his cock wasn't veiled by the night. you drew circles around the pre-cum that was already pearling out the tip then smeared it all over the sensitive flesh. you paused the stroking for a moment to center it in your palm and rotate it softly and slowly, and for a second through his clenched eyelids he could've sworn he was being handled by a deity.

you didn't bother kissing him anymore, as the distance allowed you to look at him with his features illuminated by glowing neon and low yellow. your free hand pinched his face, his chin resting in the junction between index and thumb while you squeezed tightly and brought him at an angle to look at you.

"open 'em," you commanded, and he did after a bit of hesitation, or was it shame? the answer wasn't clear until you noticed water pooling over his lashes and struggling whimpers. "aww, am I takin' it too hard on ya?"

a rhetorical question; you slammed your hand back into his hips and his cock was having a difficult time not unraveling with every hard, borderline violent thrust. you checked in every once in a while, 'too much?', 'does this still feel good?', 'you want more, baby?' but every sultry sentence was just a ruse. the only confirmation you needed was the spasming of his muscles as he came all over your hand.

he was so glad the high had passed and the buildup was over, even though every second felt so fucking good it was also humiliating to hear the echo of his own moan in an alleyway right outside your apartment complex in the dead of the night.

except that you didn't stop.

you knew just how sensitive he would be after his orgasm washed over him, yet you were mercilessly watching the tears stream down his perfect little face while you fucked him roughly in the aftermath. it was only through whining and begging to slow down that you kissed him again to get him to shut up. his lips tasted so good, salty from the tears and you opened your mouth against his gasps to let your tongue dance along the back of his teeth and roll over on the roof of his mouth.

too much, it was too much: your hand pounding him harshly with fingertips groping at his balls to balance the pain with pleasure, your teeth wrapped around his bottom lip while sucking it into you, not to mention your free hand grabbing at and massaging his ass. he didn't know what to feel except aroused as the blood rushed back down into his cock and he was about to do it all over again.

"hard again so soon?" you quipped. he didn't have the ability to respond since your hand had resized its grip again and he was losing his mind for a third time tonight. "you really are a fuckin' whore. fucked you in my cunt, fucked you on my hand... all that's left now..."

and you dropped to your knees.

he couldn't even look at you, his throat dry and rasping while he recovered from the sudden lack of touch for the instant where you positioned yourself with your face on his hips and somehow managed to tease him worse than before.

tachihara preferred it like this. at least this way you didn't have a direct view of his tears and sobs while you fluctuated once more from dreadful overstimulation to languid motions. it was still cold out, but his body felt so warm from everything pumping in his veins, particularly his cock once you'd had your fun edging him with your tongue and slowly shifted towards sucking him off.

"nng... fuck, fuck, fuck," he panted, voice breaking with every word. "d-don't... don't fuckin' st-ahhh~"

you had no intention of stopping until his knees were weak and he couldn't manage a single word. your tongue rolled over every part of him that got his body twitching and the strong muscle sucked down so hard he thought you'd just slurp his cum straight out of him like a goddamn sippy cup. his hands gripped onto the back of your skull to hold you, but he couldn't figure out whether he was trying to pull you off or push you on.

it didn't take long for him to snap once more and shoot hot liquid down your throat and face. he couldn't see you spitting it all out on the dirty pavement because the pleasure was just too much and he was trembling from all the sensations, porcelain cheeks adorned with streaks of his lust broken apart by your own. you dusted off the dirt from your knees and shot him a devilish smirk before kissing him, making him taste himself.

"shhh, it's ok," you murmured into his lips, hand caressing his face softly while you rubbed the tears with your thumb. "you did so good for me, baby. I wanted you to have a real taste of what I can do, so why don't we head in and you don't worry your pretty little head about this, yeah?"

his panting was loud, but he managed to cool down enough to sound coherent. "mmmn, yeah... yeah, let's do... that..."

"don't tell me you want more, you little slut." it was reflexive, at this point, to react this way when he was acting cute and oh so corruptible. your hand was loosely wrapped around his neck with the other trailed down his abdomen, all the while your entire body was trapping him against the brick wall again.

"'cause there are a whole lot of other ways I can fuck you, baby."

#ANON ANYTHING W TACHIHARA IN IT IS SUBLIME I WILL PROVIDE YOU WITH ALL THAT I CAN TIS MY DUTY🫡#the best people love tachi and the best of the best want to see him covered in tears i don't make the rules we're just superior #tachihara michizou #bsd tachihara #tachihara x reader #bungo stray dogs tachihara #tachihara smut #tachihara michizou x reader #bsd x reader #bungou stray dogs #bsd #tachihara x reader smut #down bad tm #tachi fics #im unwell for them

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jakexneytiri · 2 years ago

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"What the fuck was that back there?" He growled at you

"I don't know what you're talking about," You said while your back facing him.

He bared his teeth, grabbed your shoulder, and spun you around.

"You're not gonna act like a brat in public, alright?" He whispered harshly to you.

"Make me!" You yelled at him.

"Watch. Your. Mouth."

"You watch it. I can't see it from here." You replied sarcastically.

It went silent, but he was even more pissed off.

"Uh oh?"

"Uh-oh indeed" He then picked you up and threw you over his shoulder.

Taking you to a tree far away from everyone else.

He sits you down next to a tree.

"This is gonna hurt my back y'know"

"You'll live" Jake replied dryly.

He started sucking on your neck, leaving hickeys.

You felt your core getting wetter every time he made a new mark. Until you finally snapped.

Grabbing the knots on his loincloth trying to undo it.

He laughs at your desperate attempt and then pushes your hands away.

He then starts taking off your loincloth. Once the knots are completely undone he looks at you for consent. he's consent king istg

You nod your head and he puts you on his lap. Putting two of his fingers inside of you. He puts his hands around your throat. He curls his fingers, hitting your sweet spot exactly, and moves them at a torturing slow pace.

"Faster, please," you whined as you tried fucking yourself with his fingers.

He took his hand off your neck, barely speeding up his other hand's pace, stopping your hips from moving. He gave you a look of fury, his fingers made you feel so good, but you were getting annoyed.

"your fingers aren't doing shit, I need your cock." You blurted out.

He completely stops moving as he tilts his head. Narrowed eyes with his jaw slacking and tongue pointing to his inner cheek. You've been disrespectful too much. He's finally getting tired of it. Your words growing contempt in his mind.

With no warning, he starts a brutal pace. Sticking another finger in, as well. He was three-fingers in, knuckle deep. So fast, so deep, so sudden. You started squirming and kicking with cries.

"You wanna underestimate the Olo'eytkan, darling? I'll make you cum so many times with just my fingers, yawne"

All his words were blurred out by the pleasure. You could feel yourself getting close, as you felt a knot start building.

Jake could tell too. "Awe, already gonna make a mess all over my fingers baby girl?"

All you could say in response was a whine. A loud, long whine.

"Come on, tìyawn. All over my fingers." He whispers in your ear.

You came all over his fingers, except he doesn't stop, slow down, in fact he was faster than before.

You tried pushing him away but you were weak, your muscles were giving up.

You start crying from overstimulation, the pleasure being too much to handle.

"how are you gonna handle my cock if you can't even handle my fingers baby?" He chuckles as he wipes tears off your face.

💍

bro this took like an hour or two and I low-key kinda hate it ngl. Anyways hope you like it 💕

WIFEYYYY THIS WAS DELICIOUS!!! OH MY GODDDD I AM SCREAMING (WITHOUT THE S OFC) i will gladly act like a brat for jake 🤭 YOU SHOULD WRITE SMUT FR!! gosh this was so good 😩😩

“you wanna underestimate the olo’eyktan, darling? i’ll make you cum so many times with just my fingers, yawne.” JAKE SPEAKING NA’VI AAAAAAAAAAA ILY BABES THANK YOU FOR THIS 💓💘💞💖

#💍 anon <3

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pearldog30 · 1 year ago

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Red lighting suits You.

I'M BACK BITCHS!!!!! Soo I know I've been gone for a while, I've honestly lost all creativity to write. but I'm forcing myself back! (no I have not lost the love for the fandom, I still love it dearly. I'm just too lazy.) and so you know what! as my own little birthday present to you guys y'all are getting a hesh sumt that was requested by the lovely @alexkellersleg

And also because there's nothing on him y'all are slacking on my boy

David Walker x f reader

18+

Other works 👉 Master list

Warnings| praising, fingering, kissing, sumt.

And there you were.... Laying in front of a mirror as dark red lights were illuminating everything around you. Opening your eyes once again, as you recover from your orgasm that had just left your body a few seconds ago. looking into the mirror in front of you your legs spread, soaking wet pussy on display right for hesh to stare into. as you laid against him trying to catch your own breath, you could feel the beating of his heart against your back, as if he just got done running a marathon but no... Ohhh if only that was the case! But it never was. He was propped up behind you, as you sat in his lap. his arms wrapped perfectly! Around your body. as he quietly whispered into your ear praising how good you look for him, "oh my girl.... My pretty girl" he moaned lightly into your ear, causing you to moan out from yet another praise.

You squeezed your eyes shut, your body beginning to shake in response feeling his hand meeting your puffy, wet clit again. You were only about to be on your fourth orgasm. but you were already so, so over stimulated. Feeling his massive, rough, hand slowly beginning to rub circles into your clit once again. causing you to try to move his hand away, but once again! you were too slow. taking his other arm and wrapping it around you completely, so you couldn't move. you were just forced to sit there and take it. "Come onnnn.... please give me another. I've missed you. oh so, so much." He begged. his hot breath hitting your ear, as he looked up into the mirror watching your body squirm, as you pathetically moaned, the dark red lights of the room hitting the curves of your body perfectly.

You couldn't denied the fact that you didn't miss him either. you did! you missed him like hell. But one thing you did not miss.... was how needy, and greedy he could be at times. And this... Well this was one of those times.

"baby... your sooo fuckin wet for me... Godddd....." He gruffly moaned again. lightly biting your neck, continuing to leave his love marks all over you. You tried to arch your back to get away from him just so you could have a small breathing break. but you couldn't, no matter how badly you wanted too... forcing to feel his throbbing, wet, bare cock against your inner thigh. him continuing to rub ever so lightly, slowly getting faster, just to edge you on and make you beg for it. And yet he has not touched himself once! you could feel his pre-cum dripping down his cock. making a mess on your left inner thigh.

"ba-be..... Pls... I- I can't" you cried out begging for him to give you a break. as you felt the fire sensation slowly creep back up again. "Please give me another one!" He moaned back again. as he took a break from your clit, slowly going down to finger you. stretching you open with just 2 fingers, causing you to moan deeply. him being away for so long he had to prep you in some way, or another. Because well... he loves you, and he wanted to make it easier for you to take all of him at once, from how impatient, and needy he can be. "Fu-ckkk" you cry out, feeling him quickly pull his fingers in and out of your cum soaked hole. Looking down you could feel, and see the veins popping out of his arm. from the quick work he was making.

Yes he may have been behind you, but that didn't stop him from somehow perfectly hitting your g-spot. And damn, did he make sure he hit it! And abuse it "MHMM... AHH" you moaned loudly. as you felt your orgasm coming on again, your head falling back, resting on his shoulders. "Ple-aseeee...." You said through heavy breath. as he unwrapped his arm from around you, to just forcefully grab your tit, and start playing with it. And when he did you felt his cock beginning to twitch against your leg more, practically hitting your worn out pussy. And that seemed to be the thing that push you closer to the edge, the feeling of his warm, hard, desperate cock for you, hitting you. was the thing you craved most. He continuing to finger you until you came undone on his fingers. "I- I'm clo-se.. baby....." You practically cry out. slowly arching your back, but this time without him forcing you against him.

"please.... Ple-ase c-cum fo.. for me... Fuck! " He moaned out through a Sob. just as you're about to cum. he forcefully squeeze your nipple between his fingers, biting down hard on your neck as well. causing you to scream from pain, and pleasure. as you try to jerk your hips upwards into his hand to ride out your orgasm. "FU...CKKKK IM I'M... CUMINNN" you screamed out, as you felt tears fall down your face. Completely being fucked out of your mind, you heard him sucking on his fingers. you turn to see that he was sucking your cum off of his fingers, even though the room was kind of dark you could see the light smiled he give you. "You know... You taste delicious babe" he said with a loud mouth pop of his fingers, before he gave you a goofy smile, Which just made your heart flutter.

"STOPPPP" you said with a blush, as you tried to cover your face with your hand. You tiredly beginning to rest against him, but when you did. you felt his entire stomach was soaked, making you confused. You slowly turn around to see that he had came as well, at this point your heart was melting at the fact that this man was so in love with you, just seeing you in pleasure was enough to make him cum. You saw there was a light blush to his cheeks at how embarrassed he was. But to you it was probably the most adorable sight. "Oh, oh my love..." You said with a smile, as you leaned up and lightly placed your hand on his chin, kissing his lips. tasting your own cum in his mouth, you could feel him moaning into the kiss.

"you know... Red lighting suits You" he says with a chuckle trying to be romantic, but it came out more corny. But you could honestly care less. From how adorable he looked. his messy hair, with a practically fucked out look on his face. (and you didn't even have to fuck him, that's how in love this man is with you.)

And that's going to be the end for this. I know it wasn't that long and I feel awful for it but I'm trying to get back into the groove of things. I hope you all enjoy it as much as I did writing for it. because let's be honest! our hesh boy needs some love. As always I hope you all enjoyed this, and I hope you are having a good day/night wherever you are. Reblogs, comments always appreciated 🖤

Tag list: @macravishedbymactavish @alexkellersleg

(if you would also like to be added to the tag list just message me/say in the comments)

#cod #david hesh walker ghost #ghosts cod #david hesh walker #david walker #david hesh walker x reader #david walker x reader #hesh walker #hesh walker x reader #ghosts #cod ghosts #smut #request #cod x gn!reader #cod x reader #cod smut #hesh Walker smut #David Walker smut

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cable-knit-sweater · 2 years ago

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MAYAAAAAA 😫😫😫 I know I’ve been in your inbox already once today, but I just saw you reblog This Fucking Post™ of This Fucking Guy™ and— EXCUSE ME. I AM UNWELL.

So now I can’t help but think about how this particular Seb is a bit more confident and cocksure (pun at least 50% intended) than usual, and how it completely throws Chris for a loop and maybe they haven’t seen each other for a while and they’re finally alone and making out like teenagers on Seb’s couch and Chris is reeling from how assertive and self-assured Seb is, not to mention how stupidly fucking hot he looks, and listen. LISTEN. Chris loves it, he really, really does, but he’s just used to being a bit more in charge, and being able to reduce Seb into a boneless, speechless mess with relative ease (much like Seb’s doing to him, right now).

Chris is kinda getting lost inside his head when his hand finds its familiar way into Seb’s hair, fingers curling gently but surely around the lengths, and tugging—

Seb makes the tiniest noise in the back of his throat, but Chris can feel the tremor that runs through him, so he pulls a bit harder, a bit meaner.

There it is.

“Screw you,” Seb breathes, but it comes out wrapped in an unmistakeable moan.

Chris just laughs, mouthing at the hinge of his jaw in a way that makes Seb squirm into the cushions.

“This is why we can’t have nice things,” Seb huffs even while closing his eyes and melting into the touch.

“Aww, honey,” Chris purrs in response. “You’re the nice thing.”

Idk what this even is but I totally blame you & Minnie for it 😇💕

OH MY FUCKING GODDDD KAY MY SUNFLOWER BABY 😭😭😭😍😍🥵🥵🥵🥵

Okay. Calming down for a second but GOD I love you so fucking much.

I saw your other ask and I LOVE it, also @sparkagrace has been begging me for something similar and I will have so much fun writing it, so thank youuuu for sending me that prompt (also? I love the hive mind so freaking much lol 💗💗)

But getting back to the rest of your ask bc oh my god are you in my head??? This is like a perfect scenario and I’m obsessed 😫 Anyone who even knows me a little bit knows how weak I am for this Seb:

Like uncontrollable sobbing, unhinged screeching, want to BITE, that kind of weak 😭

But back to your scenario.

One of my favorite things is Seb being a little cocky and Chris being surprised by it and LOVING it, but alsoooo trying to find a way to reduce Seb to a whimpering mess again 😫 I love how in this scenario Chris goes with it for a little but then he just needs to do one thing, and Sebastian is done for (much like I am).

And they both love it. Chris loves it when his boyfriend is assertive, makes known what he loves and wants; whether it’s through making those delicious noises or by showing Chris what he wants by being a little more demanding like this. He always thinks Sebastian is hot, unbelievably gorgeous, but there’s something about him when he smirks at Chris in that way of his, when Sebastian looks all self-assured and like he knows he’s the hottest thing out there, because in Chris’s mind he always is. So he lets Sebastian do what he wants for a little, until instinct takes over…and his instinct will always be to love on Sebastian so much, to make him feel soooo good, that Sebastian just melts into whatever surface they’ve ended up on and lets Chris make him feel even better.

The moment that happens always causes Chris’s brain to short circuit for a second. When Sebastian’s features go slack, when he moans so loudly, when he starts to give himself over to Chris. It’s not so much surprise as it is pure awe; that he can have that effect on Sebastian, that Sebastian loves it as much as he does, that Sebastian lets him do this.

Sebastian loves it when Chris takes charge and just, instinctively knows what he needs, but sometimes he just can’t control himself, feeling sooo good about himself and wanting Chris to feel good too, needing to be close, so he just goes for it.

He can’t help but feeling a little hungry, a little feral when they’ve been apart for a while, needing his hands all over Chris and needing Chris’s hands all over him. Rile him up as much as he can until he gets Chris to growl a little and manhandle him, pull at his hair, letting Chris take charge again easily.

Riling Chris up is maybe one of his favorite things to do. It’s almost like a little game they play, and even if Seb complains a little when Chris takes over and makes him all weak-kneed, it’s all he wants.

ALSO, Chris is right, he is the nice thing 😭 and BLESS you so much for dropping these incredible thoughts into my inbox, GOD, I’m gonna need some more time to think about this 🥵.

I LOVE YOU (and your incredible brain) SOOO MUCH 💕💕💕💕💕 Sending you the biggest polar bear hugs and all the smooches 😘😘

Alsooo I think @musette22 will agree with me that we’ll gladly take the blame if it leads to something like this 🥰🥰🥰

#maya answers #evanstan #rpf #KAYYYY 🌻🌻🌻🌻#I cannot EXPRESS how much I love this AHHHHHHHH #my brain is short circuiting #Ughhh #these two

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yeyinde · 7 months ago

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CEILLLLLLLLL. THE WAY YOU WRITE!!!!!!!! the skin on my face has melted off. dripped into a puddle on my lap. godddd. i need to be sedated. i need to lay down. i don't smoke but this has me craving a cigarette.

Price is already hot on his own, but somehow, you make him so much better. the things he does, what he says. everything. this is my canon.

i wanted to pick out my favourite lines and saved them in my notes app, but it's everything he says in this.

the good girls, this gruff, almost weathered softness. the smothering care. love it, love it, love it!!!

John chuckles, the sound raspy with sleep. “Christ, honey, you’re wet…should’ve told me you needed a good fucking.”

and

“‘Course you wouldn’t, darlin’,” he croons, stroking his hand up your side. “We just had a little spat, is all. I know you’re my good girl.”

and

“Christ, keep squirming like that,” John growls into your neck, sucking at the sweaty patch of skin between your neck and shoulder.

ME NEXT!!!!!!!!

You can’t answer him. Only intelligible babbling, a high, reedy plea whistled through your teeth. Your hands rake down his back, scoring red lines into the skin, and clutching helplessly, trying to both pull him closer and push him away. It’s almost too much, too soon.

the imagery too. everything about this is immaculate, absolutely ticks every box conceivable: expertly crafted John Price, tension so thick it sometimes makes me pace around my room just to get a breather, delicious smut, but there's something about the way they interact with each other, and the way John treats her that's just elevating this to historic status. this is the fic i'll be thinking about forever.

and right now!!!!! allllllll i can think about is this:

John’s arms tighten around you as he nears his end. You feel compressed, choked, only a warm slippery thing for him to plant his seed in.

umm!!!!! have mercy??? 😭 but then it got better (read: worse)

“Christ, keep squirming like that,” John growls into your neck, sucking at the sweaty patch of skin between your neck and shoulder.

“Why do you like touching there?” you ask, taking another sip.

“This is where my babe will sit,” he says, and you choke on your water, coughing until your lungs are clear and your eyes water. “Soon, with any luck.”

and urrrrrr trying to kill me.

“I never get off easy with you, do I?” he murmurs.

this part, almost immediately contrasted against her conversation with Laswell (whomst i adore), is perfect. i love the oscillation between telling him and not, and this whole arc is set up so incredibly well. i feel the tension. i get where she's coming from. it's not just shoehorned miscommunication, but a genuine problem. as much as i'd like to say Laswell is wrong, there's also a part of me that kinda wonders. Price is an honourable man (in her eyes), and i can see why this conflict would be so taxing and terrifying to divulge. plus. the lead in with her musing about trust?? how are you real??? it's little things like that, these small throughlines, that i get such a kick out of. incredible writing.

i have ascended. i now live on another plane of existence. truly, genuinely, idk how you write such incredible, godtier smut, and just amazing writing in general. got me over here taking notes like i'm in class. sooo good!!!! this is, currently, my favourite chapter and now i gotta go read it all, in sequence.

take me home, country road

[ao3]

You have nothing on your person apart from a hastily packed suitcase and the dress you came into town wearing, on the run from trouble back home. Too bad John's missing a bride that matches your description. Or: the 1800s (mistaken) mail order bride au (chapter 14)

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It’s you for once crawling over him in the dead of night and stroking your hand down the side of his face.

Any other night, you would be able to brush off the urge to curl yourself around him and press your lips into the bristly corner of his jaw, but after a long day of waiting and worrying, and a week’s worth of pent up stress and guilt, you have no choice but to succumb to your urges. It’s burrowed so deep inside of you that it’s almost a base need now. You need to be as close to him as possible.

John coaxes you to bed once you finish bandaging his hands. It’s not meant presumptively; you can tell from the deep bags under his eyes that he needs sleep more than anything.

For a spell, you sleep with the comfort of your husband by your side. After a week of keeping to your side of the bed, body stiff to keep from turning over in your sleep and curling up into his—committed, in your ire, to punishing both him and yourself—you relish the opportunity to snuggle up under his arm.

The ache between your legs only becomes unmanageable somewhere around the middle of the night. You wake in a daze, sweating profusely, cheek pressed to a hard chest that rises and falls with his breaths. It takes a moment for the fog to clear, but once it does you realize that you’ve rolled on top of him, legs spread on either side of a thick thigh and your sex pressed tight to the muscle, your hips undulating.

Your lips part enough for your tongue to slip out and wet them. Another wave of need washes over you, making your breath come out ragged. Your vision is still spotty, sleep half-crusted into the folds of you, and with the room still ensconced in darkness, no amount of blinking ever clears it out.

The air around you feels hot and humid; your skin sticks to his when you lift your head up, your face damp with sweat. John’s hand is loose at your bottom, curved under a cheek to hold you to him. The other is nestled against the small of your back. Your shift is drawn up around your waist, likely riding up when you crawled over your husband in the middle of the night, but it means that only the thin fabric of your underwear is pressed against John’s thigh. Every roll of your hips rubs your clit in just the right way.

You pant against his chest when you roll your hips again. You’d be humiliated if he woke up to see you humping his leg like a puppy, but you can hardly control yourself. In the month since marrying him, you’ve grown accustomed to a certain amount of relief at your husband’s hands, and to suddenly lose that in one fell swoop has left you, for lack of a better word, frustrated.

“Hmm…darlin’…” John suddenly groans, hand gripping into the flesh of your backside and grinding your sex down against his leg.

You still at the sound of his voice, biting back your moan when he shifts his thigh and presses it up into you. He wakes gradually, blinking down at you when you peer up at him. The blood rushes under your cheeks, growing hot when he blinks at you again slowly, realization unfurling behind his eyes like a lotus flower blooming under moonlight.

“I’m sorry, I’m just…” you whisper, choking back a moan again when his hand slides down your bottom and in between your legs, fingers rubbing against the wet seam of your cunt.

John chuckles, the sound raspy with sleep. “Christ, honey, you’re wet…should’ve told me you needed a good fucking.”

“You n-needed to sleep,” you say, gasping into his chest when John strokes his fingers up and down between your thighs. The sensation is mildly dulled by the fabric covering your center, but his prodding fingers make you jolt anyway.

“Darlin’, If I’d known, I never would’ve let you go to bed wanting.”

He maneuvers you onto your side for long enough to let him draw your underwear down your legs before rolling over onto his back again and balancing you over his lap. With your knees on either side of his hips, your cunt is spread wide open for his gaze, the soft, dewy folds parting to expose your slick center.

Words are silken in your head and they slide from side to side as you watch John lift his hips and reach down to pull himself out. He moves with a practiced ease, but the flush high on his cheeks betrays his eagerness. You run your hands through the pelt on his chest as you stare at the glistening tip of his member poking out the top of his grip.

“We’ve never done this,” you remark, almost a casual observation. Despite your heart beating rabbit-quick, the words aren’t caught behind your tongue. Instead, John's presence acts like a balm, nervousness bleeding away to anticipation.

“First time for everything, isn’t there?”

“I suppose,” you murmur, eyes locked on the turgid length that he notches against your entrance, impaling you on it so slowly that it almost doesn’t register at first.

You feel the stretch when he bottoms out though. The last inch comes all at once, winding you. It is a frightening, soaring sensation; a blunt intrusion that takes you to another place. No pleasantries this time because you’re an old hat at this now, you suspect, but still you gasp when his girth stretches you beyond what you recalled.

“Fuck…there it is,” John grunts, transferring his hands to your waist. “Christ, tightened right up since we last made love, didn’t you, sweetheart?”

His words, while crass, hold true. You can feel every throbbing inch of him.

“It’s not like—” you pant, squeezing your eyes shut for a moment, sweat beading around your hairline. “I wasn’t about to, ah… fool around with anybody else.”

“‘Course you wouldn’t, darlin’,” he croons, stroking his hand up your side. “We just had a little spat, is all. I know you’re my good girl.”

His words make you clench up tight, drawing a rumbling groan out of him.

“N-no, I’m not a good…—I’m just…it just wouldn’t be right. We’re married. I’d—I��d never…” The words come out shaky, punched out because he takes that moment to help guide you up, nearly pulling out of you completely before bringing you back down.

“Knew you were my good girl soon as I saw you,” John muses, his voice low and husky, hands gripped tight at your waist. “Couldn’t wait to make you mine. Wasn’t even supposed to marry you right away—thought we’d get to know each other a bit, but then—”

“You—oh, unf—you dragged me to the courthouse.”

He smiles roguishly. “I couldn’t let you go after I saw you. Had to make you mine, darlin’.”

You ride him carefully at first, unsure of yourself.

It’s strenuous work taking his cock this way, doing all the heavy lifting yourself. You almost think you’d fight him if you weren’t lost in pleasure, eyes defocusing as you stare down at him. Each time you impale yourself on his length, your breath hitches out of you. A sharp oh, oh, oh; chasing something elusive that wants you after it.

When your thighs feel strained to the point of burning, you beg him to hurry up. Enough, you blubber, the word almost subsumed into a guttural moan. That makes him grit his teeth, a dark look coming over his face. You hiccup when he plants his feet against the bed and his hips buck up into you, the squelch of your own cunt making your fingers dig into his chest hair.

All you can do is take it, your hands planted on his chest and jaw dropping open on a moan that you can’t hold back.

Tears clumping your eyelashes together, a single drop landing in the middle of John’s chest when he forces you all the way down on his cock and holds you there, jiggling the pearl at the apex of your sex with his thumb until you almost struggle to pull away. He always has to fight you through an orgasm, the stubborn thing trapped behind your teeth, begging him to use you how he wants.

When it hits you though, it’s sharp and hot. It makes you reel backwards, your control slipping out of your grasp so suddenly that the sharp buck of his hips nearly knocks you clean off. He holds you down tight though, keeping you impaled on his shaft.

“There we go,” John rasps. “That wasn’t so hard, huh?”

After making you come, he rolls you over until your back is pressed against the bed and he hovers over you, nestled between your thighs. He drops down until his face is buried in your neck, a big arm wedging under your back and hooking over your shoulder, the other sliding under your low back and clutching your waist. When he thrusts into you, you realize with a start that he has you locked to his chest. You aren’t going anywhere.

“Christ, keep squirming like that,” John growls into your neck, sucking at the sweaty patch of skin between your neck and shoulder.

Each thrust knocks the air out of you. Where your skin isn’t slick with sweat, you itch. Overwhelmed by touch and taste. Teeth clacking when his hips speed up, driven into a frenzy by his own urge to come. And again, there’s nowhere for you to run, not with his arms wound tight around you, all of his strength concentrated on holding you to his chest. You don’t think anyone could pry him off you.

“I’m gonna—I’m gonna—” you gasp, feeling it brewing under your skin again. The feeling makes you panicky this time though. He’s made you come plenty of times, but never in such quick succession.

The pitch of your moans goes breathy and high, rising to nearly a caterwaul.

He licks into the shell of your ear. “Got a little tighter there, sweetheart. Gonna give me another?”

“Almost there, almost there,” he pants, the sweat on his brow dripping down onto your face. It nearly drips into your eye. You wish he’d pull back and kiss you, sooth the panicked staccato of your heart, but he’s lost in his own need, bucking into you like a beast. “C’mon, give me it, sweetheart. Be a good girl.”

You’re on the precipice of it, hanging on with clawed hands dug into the muscle of his back. In danger of tipping over, a gale at your back. The intensity frightens you though. You cling to him like digging your hands into the earth to root you in place.

John’s arms tighten around you as he nears his end. You feel compressed, choked, only a warm slippery thing for him to plant his seed in.

His breath is hot in your ear when he rasps, “Where the fuck are your manners, darlin’? I said, give me it.”

Then he arches into it, spine going stiff when he empties himself into your cunt. His arms squeeze all the air out of your lungs. You must come more than once, a record, because by the time he pulls out of you, you practically sink into the bed, sapped of energy. Not enough strength to even twitch a finger.

John collapses onto the bed beside you, tugging you into his chest. It feels so intimate, lying on your side with a leg draped over John’s hip. You shiver when the sweat begins to cool.

He drags a finger through your puffy, raw sex from the back, scooping up his essence with two fingers. You go cross-eyed when he pushes it back into you, hissing and pushing against his shoulders, trying to dislodge him from between your legs. John doesn’t budge; his eyes barely even flick down to meet yours as he pushes more of his spend back into your hole.

Your chest goes tight at that.

After, he sits you upright with your back to his chest and holds a glass of water up to your lips, making you drink until it dribbles down your chest. A big hand rests on your belly.

“Why do you like touching there?” you ask, taking another sip.

“This is where my babe will sit,” he says, and you choke on your water, coughing until your lungs are clear and your eyes water. “Soon, with any luck.”

“You sure know what you want,” you wheeze, eyes still watering from your coughing fit.

He presses a kiss into your hair. “That I do.”

Two days later, John wakes you up with the news that an incident on a farm a few towns over will take him from you for the next few days.

You frown into your oatmeal. “Why so long?”

He sits at the table across from you with his chair pushed out, scraping off the mud caked on his boots with a dry brush. He sucks his cheek when you ask that question.

“Bit unpleasant to bother you with the specifics, darlin’, but, uh…suffice it to say that it’s not something we can wrap up in just one day.”

“Did someone die?” you ask bluntly.

John looks over at you from the corner of his eye, unimpressed. “As a matter of fact, yes.”

“Was it violent?”

“Jesus Christ, woman, you don’t need to go poking your nose into all of that.”

You roll your eyes at that. If he knew even a fraction of the things you’ve seen, he wouldn’t be nearly so askance at the thought of upsetting your delicate constitution. “But it’ll keep you there for some time?”

He nods. “At least a couple days. Maybe more. There’s matters to be dealt with, arrests to be made…won’t be easy work.”

“Is Simon accompanying you?”

“Both him and Kyle. I’m leaving Soap behind to keep the peace.”

“So you’re expecting to come back to the town in complete disarray then?”

John laughs at that, a big bellowing sound that makes you flinch and then warms your belly with delight.

Summer is well on its way to being flush with itself now. Katydids in the bushes outside whistle and burr, a raspy, percussive sound. Long strands of high cirrus clouds stretch across the clear blue sky. Spiders weave thick webs into the corners of the windows on the outside of the house, thin, filamentous strands of silk woven over each other until it’s a dense, compact web. Even the sound of the bees buzzing through the air sets you at ease.

The sound of your husband’s laughter seems to carry all of that in it, all of the fat, flushed joy of summertime.

“I might need a list of what to take care of around the house while you’re gone. I’ve never…I’ve never managed a house on my own before,” you say into your oatmeal, taking another bite.

You don’t know why it embarrasses you to admit that. John may not know about your previous circumstances just yet—you’ve never divulged stories of your time working at the estate or the years you spent living with your aunt and uncle—but he must certainly have guessed by now that you didn’t own property back east.

“The boys and I aren’t heading out from here; gotta meet them in town to settle a couple of things first, but that wouldn’t take too long.” He takes a long sip of coffee before continuing. “Planned on asking Soap to check on you a couple times while I’m gone. He could help with the chores.”

Your irritation flares up at that. You put down your spoon sharply, the metal clanging against the porcelain bowl. “Do you still think I’m going to run away?”

He cocks an eyebrow at that, but doesn’t respond.

“So nothing’s changed then, even after I’ve already apologized. You still don’t trust me,” you sigh, your appetite suddenly gone. You push the bowl away from you, taking a sip of coffee instead.

John sighs. You glance down at his hands instead of looking up into his eyes. His hands are still lightly ink-stained from reading the paper. The ink imprints onto your hand when he pulls his chair in and reaches across the table to lace your fingers together.

“You might just see my concern for what it is, instead of fighting me at every turn,” he drawls.

“Suppose I should say thank you then. I really appreciate being kept under lock and key,” you deadpan.

“Oh, and I suppose you’ve done so much to prove that you’re the staying type?” he teases.

“I’m still here, aren’t I?”

“By my count, you’ve tried to run off twice. You sayin’ you won’t go for three?”

You stay mulishly silent, again going cold instead of deigning to have a conversation with the man. Your hand pulls from his grasp when you go to clean the table, taking the plates with you to the sink to wash. The brisk scrub and rinse betrays your mood, your shoulders tense with displeasure. You feel his gaze heavy on you from where he still sits at the table.

John catches you before you have a chance to skitter off, hooking an arm around your waist to reel you in.

“I never get off easy with you, do I?” he murmurs.

You harrumph, scrunching your nose when he nuzzles into the side of your head. Squawking when he plants a wet kiss there too.

John sees you off at the door with a kiss to your lips and then one to your forehead. His farewell kiss always seems to linger, as though he were reluctant for it to ever end. A disconcerting ache in your belly follows his departure. More than anything, you wish he’d turn back around and come home. Instead, you’re forced to bite your tongue and watch him leave because there are things more important than your desperate, cloying need for attention from a man that you once swore you’d run away from if given half a chance.

Now, as you stare at the shadow of him disappearing beyond the horizon, you can barely force your feet to take you back into the house.

The ache is a perturbing reminder of the seeds of trust and affection you’ve planted here. Now, they’ve begun to sprout, the buds opening up to tender, fragrant flowers. Those are the thoughts that occupy your mind when you go into the garden to harvest the lettuce heads and tomatoes. You think about all of this while staring down into the garden that John started so very long ago and now you tend. The earth here yields in abundance, but it requires a sure hand, and it rewards your joint efforts with a harvest that’ll last you through the winter if properly cultivated.

Part of you anticipates company, waiting for Kate or Soap to come down the path on horseback, but when hours pass and neither show up, you have to admit to yourself that perhaps John hasn’t left a guardian to watch over you this time. Your heart trips over itself at the thought.

Trust is a precious, easily spoiled gift. You know it is not given lightly, and you’ve not put in the effort to engender it in recent weeks. You wonder if John wrestled with the decision to leave you alone, weighing your hurt feelings against the assurance of keeping you at home and found the latter wanting for once.

You spend the better part of the morning gardening and cleaning. It muffles the longing. It’s entirely antithetical to the way you waited for John during the train robbery, but the different circumstances have you less on edge. The situation doesn’t seem as precarious. Never free of trouble, of course, but John hadn’t seemed too worried at breakfast, so you tell yourself that you shouldn’t worry either.

In fact, finding some way to occupy yourself proves the greater challenge. You hadn’t realized how much you’d grown to expect the company of others. The silence swells to a bubble that you itch to burst.

It takes a great deal of courage to talk yourself into riding Buttercup into town. You hold the reins so tight that your knuckles ache when you finally let go. Still, when the sun-bleached town comes into view and you no longer need to swat repeatedly at the horseflies pestering you, you celebrate the little victory.

You find Kate in the saloon enjoying a little brandy with lunch. Her eyes crinkle at the sight of you.

“Didn’t expect to see you here so soon,” she says when you take a seat across from her.

“I couldn’t clean the house for a third time,” you shrug.

It’s not an exaggeration. You spent the better part of the morning yesterday scrubbing the floors and sweeping the leaves and mud from the foyer, paying special attention to the caked mud on the sill, where John has a habit of wiping off his boots. You’ll have to remember to pick up a mat for the porch on the way back home.

“You just missed my company so?” Kate teases.

You roll your eyes. “Who else do I have to talk to?”

“Well, don’t flatter me too much.”

“Anyway—no one, well…no one understands me…quite the same.” You speak evasively because you’re still too much of a coward to just say it outright. Nevertheless, Kate understands, and nods with a gleam in her eye that says as much.

“Probably best to keep it that way.”

You don’t know why her words make your chest ache. For a beat, you keep silent, ordering a drink and a small meal for yourself from a passing waiter.

“I’ve considered…telling John,” you start, a hesitant thread in your voice begging to be unraveled.

Kate glances up at that. “Why would you do something like that?”

“I thought that maybe…well, maybe he might understand…if I explained the circumstances to him.”

Her hand stills over her glass, face screwed up like she’s tasted something particularly unpleasant. “Seems like a dangerous game to play—risking your freedom on a maybe. It’s better to keep private matters just that. Private.”

Worry makes you wring your hands under the table. “You think he’d turn me in if he knew?”

Kate shrugs. “John’s a good man. He’s a good sheriff too. It’s a risky gambit. I can’t imagine what the trade off would be—I happened to find out by chance, but if you have the option to let buried dogs lie, I would take it.”

“Isn’t it ‘let sleeping dogs lie’?”

Her smile is not cruel, but it cuts. “Not in this case, hun. ‘Fraid we both know that.”

“Oh,” you murmur.

Her lack of faith leaves you at a loss. It takes you so long to come to terms with it that by the time you open your mouth again, you’re halfway back to the shop, following her step for step. Dark clouds loom ominously off in the distance, just far enough away that you don’t expect for them to reach town for another hour or so, but the sight of them compounds the somber mood you’ve fallen into since Kate’s words.

You don’t bring up the subject again until the rain begins to fall outside, slate grey like a gauzy veil. From the window, you peer down the street towards where Buttercup stands under the roof of the sheriff’s office, shielded from the rain. You stare morosely at the dirt ground; the rain will make walking anywhere after a hassle.

Kate must notice the general air of malcontent hovering around you because she apologizes to you when the ensuing silence from the morning’s conversation becomes unbearable. “Now, I don’t want you to think I hold John in poor esteem, hun. He’s a good man; I have no reason to think he’d ever turn you in for putting down the man that tried to…well, the man that tried to do you harm. I just don’t want you to regret your decision if I’m wrong.”

You shrug, bad mood not in the least assuaged. “It’s fine. It was a foolish idea. Why invite trouble when I’ve escaped it thus far?”

She doesn’t seem reassured at that. If anything, her scowl deepens. Instead of addressing it, you offer to help clean the shop, sweeping the back room and dusting the shelves. There are items on the shelves that look like they haven’t been touched in years, and you wonder whether Kate holds onto things after they’ve outlived their usefulness out of habit or an unwillingness to part with them. Then you shake your head of the thought. It shouldn’t matter to you.

Around midafternoon, a few trappers come in to stock up on supplies and spend the better part of an hour talking to Kate. You flatten your lips together to keep from cursing them out for tracking in mud and rain with them, but they studiously avoid looking at you.

“Morning, Mrs. Price,” one of them says, still keeping their gaze politely trained on the floor.

You roll your eyes internally. Not surprising that news would spread eventually of John’s new wife.

The conversation is of little interest to you, but you eavesdrop anyway because the rain hasn’t relented yet and there’s little else to do. Most of their conversation goes over your head, but some parts stick out. They tell her about a mutual acquaintance waylaid by a mountain slide up north forcing them to take another route home, and another who’d recently perished of consumption. Kate seems particularly upset by that, the lines around her mouth more pronounced than ever when she offers her condolences.

They stay until the rain lets up and then say their goodbyes before heading out.

“G’day, Mrs. Price,” the same one says to you before departing.

You smile bemusedly at the door. “I don’t suppose I’ve met either of them before and don’t remember it?”

Kate shakes her head. “Unlikely. Alex and Frank spend most of their time up north hunting and fur trapping. One of them has a cousin in town, but they visit only seldomly. It’s been a year or so since I last saw either of them.”

“Then how’d they know who I am?”

“Well, I imagine they probably read about it.”

“Read about it?” you repeat confusedly.

“In the paper. The county sheriff got hitched—of course it’d be a story.”

That unnerves you. Somehow, you thought you might fold into history like you’d always been there, but a marriage announcement in a newspaper punctuates the present. Your only reassurance is that the story ran over a month ago and therefore of little interest to anyone these days, at least from what Kate tells you; overshadowed by subsequent issues and stories. Old news, she tells you.

“What’s new news then?”

She ponders that for a bit. “Aside from what Frank mentioned? Hm…Farmer Shepherd’s ewe had a lamb the other night.”

“Who’s that?”

“A farmer, I reckon.”

You deadpan. “Funny.”

She laughs at that, a husky, amber sound. “Shepherd’s got a farm in the next town over. Kyle and I always stop to buy mutton whenever we’re in town.”

“Oh, that’s right, you were just there recently. Do you visit that often?”

“From time to time,” she says, vague enough to pique your interest.

“Must be good mutton.”

She snorts. “He’s not as good a butcher as Simon, but he’s alright. It’s worth stopping by. I wouldn’t call it a reason to make the journey though.”

“Then why do you go?”

She smiles a bit wistfully. “I have…a friend in town. It’s worth the trek.”

“Oh. A… male friend?”

You say the word tentatively, gauging her reaction in case you’ve overstepped. Usually you wouldn’t be so inquisitive. In fact, you’ve made it a habit to know as little about the people you keep company with as possible. But Kate is different. This place is different. Time in this town moves at a slower pace, and it swells in the moments where it seems endless. It makes you talk slower, chew the fat. You spend so much time around these people that it almost feels like a lifetime has passed in their presence. You feel close enough these days that asking doesn’t feel as forbidden as it used to.

“No. Not a man.”

It could mean nothing at all, but her words have just enough inflection in them that you can't help but meet her gaze.

“A woman?” you ask, caught between embarrassment at having to ask and curiosity.

She nods, her smile strained.

“Oh,” you say dumbly.

You can’t really think of what else to say in response to that revelation, but leaving it like that also feels wrong. It’s nothing you haven’t heard whisperings of before. Boston marriages. Sentimental friends. Spinsters cohabitating in virtuous friendship. It’s perhaps only shocking to finally put a face to the rumors.

“Well, that’s nice,” you say after another awkward pause. Kate rolls her eyes and her nonchalance vexes you. “What? It is!”

“You don’t need to get all twisted up. It is what it is. There’s no need to go making a fuss about it.”

You frown at that. “I would never.” Then something dawns on you. “Have other people made a fuss before?”

“…A few,” she answers, looking troubled when old memories flicker behind her eyelids. “A long time ago, in another place, but when I…well, I trusted more. There’s no one that could make a fuss about it these days.”

“But surely Kyle knows? He accompanied you to town last time.”

“Kyle does not know.”

“Then why tell me?” you ask, dumbfounded.

She holds you in her gaze for a few moments at that question, then comes out from behind the counter where her notebook still lies open, a thin strip of fabric acting as a bookmark.

“You have your secrets and I have mine,” Kate says, leaning back against the counter and clasping her hands loosely in front of her. “The same reason I won’t tell John what you’re running from. The less people that know the things that could hurt you, the safer you are.”

“You think John would do what—run you out of town if he knew?” you ask, hardly able to convey your disbelief.

“The point is that neither of us know until the very moment when it matters most.”

“But that’s not John,” you stress.

“It’s the same John that you won’t trust with your secrets either.” And that strikes true. It dumbs you into silence, mouth opening uselessly for words that don’t come. The battering behind your lips like an inch of give, opening then to silence across the open plain.

You want desperately to say something that just won’t come. But how can you say anything at all these days? How does your voice not give out at the slightest quiver of emotion? You speak with a voice plump like fig skin, easy give, and violet bruised. It is always tender when you bite it through.

When Kate notices the way you struggle for words, she takes pity on you, her smile more sympathetic than you’ve ever seen it. “Enough about that though. What say we get you something to eat before you head home?”

When the path of least resistance beckons you forth, you run towards it.

Your troubled conscience persists however, speaking into your ear even as the first shaft of sunlight pierces through the slate clouds and illuminates the town in a soft glow. It troubles you so fiercely that all you can think about is retreating home and burying yourself under the warm quilt draped over your bed. It has you hastening to say your goodbyes, excusing yourself on the basis of taking Buttercup home.

Bidding Kate farewell, you step out of the shop to see that the rain has cleared. Everything after that dispels into the thinly perfumed air.

#i have asthma u can't keep doing this to me 😭

1K notes · View notes

chibimochii · 2 years ago

Note

Bc you asked.....i present to you....Ler scara ,, warnign this is so long , so uh feel free to put a "keep reading" button since. ler scara is making me feel all flustered rn

((also if ever you respond to thisss, is it okay you uhm tag this with the 🦋 anon tagg? if its okay with you ofcc,, this is for like easy access hsh

Now....Ler scara

----

writing this was NOT EASY btw i felt all tingly and giggly just by typing this all out

- This guy is HUGE on revenge tks,,, like the moment of opportunity comes by, he can AND will get his revenge. also tckles you if he is in the mood

- Likes to pin his lee down to make sure his chances of winning are high

- [coughs] my huge weakness.....teasy/flirty scara.....imagine as he wrecks you, he likes to get near your ear, whispers evilly and smirks when he sees your face flush a deeper red or your laughter gets louder (it brings him a MASSIVE EGO BOOST...)

-Along with teasing... i feel like he would go "Ah, ah, ah~ Where do you think you're going, hm?~" im weak. im goddamn weak for this. if he says this to me im immediately dead.

-Laughs along with his lee. Dont, and i repeat dont look at his eyes when hes tckling you , youre going to die bc of how his indigo eyes seems to glow with that smirk of his is looking at you (i cant even type this fully my face is heating up rn holy shit)

-if his lee says a safeword or he notices that theyre near or at their limit, he will slow down to more gentle tkles,, and will hold you for a bit while you take in air, stroking your hair gently

-Will love to use the methods that makes you squeal, cackle and giggle the most (hes so evil). if youre sensitive on your tum/torso, he will spider his fingers all over it and, blows huge raspberries on your navel (the devious joy he gets when he hears you cackle and try to crawl away from his grip makes him grin widely)

-or if youre also senstive on your neck (and is close to you), he likes to wrap his legs and arms around your body to keep you still as he blows MORE raspberries on the nape of your neck . and also kisses and playfully nibbles there as you giggle helplessly

again this also makes him smug and smirk into your skin, chuckling lowly as all you can do is squirm and scrunch your shoulders up

-OR IF. your back is senstive he scratches the area on your back where the collarbone would be on your upper back and claws your lower back to your sides, sliding a finger up and down ur spine

-Ribs,,, oh god goodluck, hes gonna have a fun time counting them all and nibbling on it,,, glances up at you before biting very gently and when he hears you squeal, he gets encouraged to continue

-Ears. im. im deceased. he chuckles, goddamn chuckles into your ear and enjoys when he sees your whole face burn up. if you try to scrunch your shoulders up or move your head away, he'll simply hold your head in place as he whispers devastatingly tcklish teases into your ears

-When you try to even run away from him, he uses his anemo to blow the wind towards him so that your body will fall right into his arms. So when your body collides against his own, you can only smile nervously as he pins you down

-If you even dare try to tckle him back while hes tckling you, he will be absolutely merciless and get you even worse than before.

-His teases has a slight sarcastic tone but its still so flustering qvaniidvdbdjd my midn is meltinwg my body is also [car crash noise]

-Absolutely does tk punishments , which also goes in hand with revenge tckles. if you get his hat , he will tckle you until you give it back, or if you (playfully no ill intent) insult him, he immediatelt goes for your worst spots until you apologize

yeah uh. ahahuwha godddd ler scara is making me melt int he brainajsdbj

-🦋 anon

Ah darn, I can’t make the thing shorter- BUT now I know for the future! Thanks everyone for being so nice and explaining it ^^

Ahem, yes, my favorite Scara provider hehe (don’t apologize for giving me ideas mwah!)

Lee Scara is something that would keep anyone awake at night. And he loves it, it’s like having a black cat. It’s pitch black in the room but you feel the chilling air that somethings in there with you. Then you notice two eyes staring at you…

Also, this is super random. But Scara and Xiao being (in my own opinion) associated with cats… purring? No sorry-?!

#mochiispeaks #🦋anon

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dreamsclock · 4 years ago

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AU where the amnesia is contagious. It slowly spreads to every single memeber, eating at their memories and personalities, until one day, they all wake up, having no idea who or where they are.

-AB (could be the Egg, honestly)

I LOVE THIS IDEA SO MUCH OH MY GODDDD,,, this offers so many painful possibilities holy shit, i couldn’t get this out of my head until i wrote it LMAO

warnings: amnesia, implications of torture/abuse, implications of explosions, implications of toxic relationships, implications of manipulation

They still have flashes of memories. Not everything is gone. Tommy works through blurry faces in his mind, blurry associations - Tubbo is laughter and home, Ranboo is a purple flower and begrudging family, Technoblade is wary alliance and safety after a storm, and other members are similar - freshly baked bread, guitars, wings and beanies and smiles and comfort. It’s frightening, not knowing anything about himself other than his name, but Tommy clings to the associations he has with people, and as time passes, realises it extends to things, too.

There’s a huge crater in the middle of their world with glass over it that makes him hollow and sad. Tubbo finds him there one day, and promptly bursts into tears he tries to hide, and Tommy feels the same emotion well up in his chest despite not knowing why - something bad happened here, is all he can think, something awful happened here and I miss home. He doesn’t visit the crater much. Tubbo claims he never does either, but Tommy watches him come back often in the early hours of the morning with red rimmed eyes and a notebook with unsteady writing and knows he’s a liar.

And there’s a big black building too, that makes Tommy pass out the first time he sees it looming in the distance and avoid it and a friendly man called Sam for days after. He doesn’t know why, doesn’t know what it’s for - only knows he associates it with a sharp pang in his stomach and a throbbing in his head and chest that leads him to a panic attack whenever he thinks too hard about it, so most people steer clear of it.

Until one day they don’t.

Until one day they don’t, and when they manage to get inside, they find a man there, locked up in a little box and smiling at them like they’re old friends.

Tommy doesn’t like the man. It’s funny, because Tommy likes everyone, apart from two people called Schlatt and Wilbur, and he dislikes this new person even more.

“What’s your name?” The man asks him one day, eyes bright with curiosity.

Tommy offers his hand out despite his racing heart. “Tommy,” he says, and ignores the flicker of something that makes him nauseous, ignores the flash of disks and explosions that breeze through his mind, “what’s yours?”

The stranger shakes it with a smile. “Dream,” he says, and Tommy feels like he’d known it before he’d said it.

Despite how uneasy he is around Dream, Tommy wants to stick to him, and the same is true of Dream, who never strays far from Tommy or Sam’s sides, or, sometimes, Quackity’s. He seems to like Ranboo, too, but Tommy knows Ranboo avoids him like the plague.

“Why?” He asks, unable to help himself. “He’s a bit of a dickhead, but, I dunno, he grows on you. Why don’t you like him?”

Ranboo can’t meet his eyes. “He scares me,” he says, evasive, “he sounds like someone I hear in my nightmares.”

...Strangely, painfully, Tommy knows what he means. He stares at Dream over dinner one day, sitting cross legged between Sam and Quackity, rambling about a new underground place he’d found while Sam listens eagerly and Quackity shifts beside him, looking strangely uncomfortable.

“You don’t like him either, do you?” Tommy presses Quackity that night, and the older squirms, looking like he’d rather not have this conversation.

“It’s not that I don’t like him,” he says hesitantly, “but he had a nightmare last night.”

Tommy blinks. “He did?”

“He did. I heard him when I was coming back from exploring.” Quackity lets out a breath, squaring his shoulders and meeting Tommy’s eyes firmly. “He was pleading with me to stop hurting him. I don’t think I liked him. Before we lost our memories.”

Tommy turns to Dream, who sleeps nestled beside Sapnap and George and looks content. His mouth is dry. “Oh,” he says, and what else is there to say? “I get it.”

He hadn’t ever considered dreams to remind them of their lives before the memory wipe. It makes sense, when he thinks about it.

Tommy tries not to read too much into his own dreams, especially when they consist of a beach and waiting for people who never show up. Especially when they consist of a masked man who makes his life hell and makes him cry himself to sleep every night.

He doesn’t like to think about it, especially not when Dream has a mask tucked safely in the little belongings he’s claimed as his own.

“Do you ever wonder,” Tubbo says one day, “if before all this, we actually hated each other?”

Tommy stares at Dream.

“Yeah,” he says, quiet for once, “I wonder that a lot.”

#> my asks !!#> my writing !!#> memory wipe au #tw amnesia #tw torture #tw exile arc #tw toxic relationship #tw manipulation #tw abuse #tw explosion #tommyinnit #tubbo #dreamwastaken #dream smp fic #dsmp fics

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yuusaris · 3 years ago

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I was tagged by @pyro-sea a whiiiiiiile back and just now finally have the time to get to iiit!!!!

Name - Yuusaris (Yusariis on AO3, because Iiiiii had forgotten which letter I doubled in my new username.)

Fandoms (That I Write For) - Yu-Gi-Oh, Borderlands, and I have some nice Red Vs Blue's under my belt.

Two-Shots - Currently nonexistant! I have never been able to finish anything longer than a one-shot! Something that I do hope to stomp out, but I just... always burn out, overstretching myself before I even touch the paper. Everything I've written is a one-shot, and anything that isn't, isn't finished.

Most Popular Multi-Chapter - See above. If you're wanting to press further, my lips are sealed and I shan't reveal any prior usernames I may or may not have had.

Actual Worst Part Of Writing - Writing the stuff that actually has emotion to it. I'm really bad with tension and Bad Things Happening, and it takes a toll on my writing. If I know something bad has to happen, I soften the blow or I resolve it too quickly or unrealistically. Or not at all. And then I write weak work as a result and get bored and just... throw it out.

Like I said - I burn out really quickly.

How You Choose Your Titles - If it's catchy, has a good hook into what makes the story interesting, and is something I can use to write a summary for, then I use it. The Title should encompass what the story's gunna be for your reader, the interesting part about it, whether it's content or emotion or even just some jokes.

Example: Body for Body, Life for Life is the entire crux of Ryou and Bakura's deal, and the only way to change it is to still adhere to this.

Pantsless? In MY Chili's? is a known meme and tells us the story will be a fun romp, and that we'll be in a Chili's. Someone's pants will be off.

'Restless' was a Dragon Age one-shot I wrote in which my Warden Mahariel can't sleep due to various anxieties - she is restless, has seen a potential future where she will not rest in peace, and vows to never rest until she can die the way she feels she deserves, and not on someone elses terms.

IDK, titles are something I get particularly proud of.

Do You Outline? - only recently and even then.... it gets so confusing and convoluted so quickly. As soon as I write down the events, I realize they don't work or I change it for better characterization or what I think might be fun or cool and then the whole thing gets thrown off. And then... what, I throw out this outline. Which I worked on and is still relevant, mostly? get rid of parts that connect the other parts? Then the other doesn't make sense.

I'm trying to use them more, but they're super difficult. I always feel like I'm scrambling to figure out where the heck it all went wrong.

Ideas I probably won’t get around to but wouldn’t it be nice - ...I'm not saying I will or won't but oh my GOD I would love to write FinDom flareshipping. Or read it, So fucking bad, oh my GODDDD. callouts@ me - shuuuut up and write it. Oh my god. Just put the WORDS. on the PAGE. Sit down. Stop jumping. Stop pacing. Stop talking out loud. Stop squirming. Stop dissociating. Stop thinking about writing. Just write. Type. babble. Something. Anything. You're mania isn't writing, it's distracting you from writing. It's fine. Just write it. Two cakes, you're not unorigional. Two cakes, they want two cakes. Just fucking stop. Pacing.

Best Writing Trait - This is a hard question. This is... seriously hard..... Do I need to have a best trait? I mean, I'm not a bad writer, I'm a good one, but... idk, having a 'best' one kinda varies from story to story, doesn't it? I don't really have an answer for this. I guess it's that I'm well-rounded? Everything I write is good or servicable. I'm a good writer.

Spicy Tangential Opinion - No tangents, only truth - Seto Kaiba is a BOTTOM.

No Pressure Tagging -@tepperz because his writing and characters are lit, fanfic or otherwise. Also, gunna go with@ladymdc and @championofdogs

#lets see if this works #tumblr is giving me grief cuz this post is HUUUUGE #my writing #if this doesn't show up all the way know it's because I was writing in three different text post tabs #webbed. site.

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pizzarollpatrol · 6 years ago

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Fic Rec List #3 12/02/18

Thank you so much to all these writers for everything that you do!! Even if we all dont comment and leave feedback on your fics, please know that you are all very much appreciated.

I tried to add more variety to this list like i did to the last one but I’m Bucky trash, I’m sorry. If any of the links dont work please let me know! I’ll fix any issues right away.

Fifty Shades of Bucky by @captain-rogers-beard

Summary: A series of sexual escapades where Bucky shows you what it’s like to give into your deepest desires. Bucky x reader. Smut. Ongoing series. ---- Y'all shouldn't even hesitate to read this series, its amazing. Even if you don’t Fifty Shades of Gray, you’ll love this.

Want One? by @hootyhoobuckaroo

Summary: The reader summons a demon by accidentally drawing an occult symbol in sandwich condiments. The demon, a strange yet oddly charming being by the name Buchanan, begins to frequent her little apartment. It’s only a matter of time until she can make her way past his guarded exterior. Demon!Bucky x reader. Completed miniseries. ---- This fic was so unexpectedly endearing. I loved seeing how their relationship formed and blossomed. I even let out a few tears. I absolutely loved it.

Bookmark My Heart by @moonbeambucky

Summary: A handoms single dad catches your eye at the library. Is he the one or will your love be shelved? Bucky x reader. Library!AU

Stardust by @after-avenging-hours

Summary: After a mixup with NASA’s resupply, you find out that you’re going to run out of your suppressant medication. The commander tries to come up with a plan to deal with you approaching heat, but how easily will she be able to control the only unmated Alpha on board? Chris Beck x reader. Smut. A/B/O

That Chair by @sebbymylove16

Summary: Sebastian Stan x reader. Smut.

The One by @serpienten

Summary: Y/N is in love with Bucky Barnes. Bucky Barnes is not in love with Y/N. Bucky x reader. Completed miniseries. ---- ohhhh my godddd. The second chapter tore my heart to pieces, I was crying the whole time I read it. This series was so good.

Are You With Me by @serpienten

Summary: Bucky finds himself second guessing everything. Bucky x reader.

Do Me a Favor by @captainrogerss

Summary: AU!Bucky Barnes and you are neighbors and close friends. As a huge favor, Bucky asks you to pretend to be his girlfriend for a relatives wedding and you agree. Bucky x reader. Completed series. ---- I love the fake dating AU so much, this was such a good series.

Unrequited by @invisibleanonymousmonsters

Summary: Steve can only watch from the sidelines as she loves his best friend. Steve Rogers, reader. ---- This was so heartbreaking!!!! I cant imagine how much this would hurt and how guilty you’d feel for having these feelings.

Countdown to White by @writingcroissant

Summary: The countdown of your life. Five more days until you marry Bucky Barnes and begin the rest of your life. Bucky x reader. I LOVED this. Its so sweet and cute and I could not stop smiling while reading it. Its perfect.

Wrong by @writingcroissant

Summary: Its been a whole year since Y/N left him, and yet Bucky still fails to move on. Bucky x reader. Smut.

Hush by @imdrchrisbeck

Summary: Chris is the cute, nerdy librarian who is crushing on you. Chris Beck x reader. Librarian!College!AU. ---- I loved this so much. It was so sweet and endearing.

Sweet Tooth by @sweetboybucky

Summary: Bucky Barnes has a sweet tooth.

In Front of the Camera by @propertyofpoeandbucky

Summary: Your friend and neighbor, Bucky, is a cam guy, but you have no idea until your friend sends you a like to one of his livestreams. AU!Bucky x reader. Ongoing series. Smut. ---- This fic is such a ride yall. Its exciting and frustrating and you cant help but keep on reading.

Something Just Like This by @justsomebucky

Summary: AU. This is the story of an ordinary couple with an extraordinary love. Bucky x reader. ---- I just really fell in love with your writing and I just had to put you on this months list, I just couldn't choose just one fic.

Five by @justsomebucky

Summary: AU. Time is a heartless bitch and runs out far too soon. Bucky x reader. ---- Holy crap, I could not stop crying. I literally had to just lay there and breathe because I could not stop

Broken By @justsomebucky

Summary: AU. There’s just something about a painting that you just cant shake. Bucky x reader.

Life’s a Movie by @justsomebucky

Summary: AU. You and your best friend, Bucky, watch a romcom together, but something just doesn't sit right with him. Bucky x reader.

Burning House by @jaamesbbarnes

Summary: You thought Bucky was over you but you thought wrong. Bucky x reader. Completed two part series. ---- Oooooooooh my god. I was so emotional reading both parts. I absolutely loved this.

Sink or Swim by @moonbeambucky

Summary: The feelings you harbor for your best friend comes to life after a break up, but will you lose everything once he learns the truth? Bucky x reader.

Lost & Found by @tropicalcap

Summary: After your latest stint at rehab, Tony and Pepper offer their place until you get back on your feet. Their place, filled with superheroes who might very well become your best friends. Their place where you meet Steve Rogers, who never seems to sleep, and has wonderful taste in snack foods. Steve Rogers x reader. Ongoing series. ---- I love everything about this series!!! I was hooked from the very first chapter!

Valentine’s Day, 11:07pm by @marvelmom

Summary: Time is slipping away as you wait for Bucky to return home from a mission so you can celebrate Valentine’s Day. Bucky x reader.

Blind by @rogue-barnes-16

Summary: Steve brought Bucky to the compound for him to join the Avengers. While some of them welcome him with smiles, others prefer to judge him for his past. But, could that change?

Untitled by @angelkurenai

Summary: Imagine Michael wanting to break Dean by showing him that you, his hunting partner and ex, are in a relationship with Sam. Even though Dean is still in love with you. Sam x reader. Past Dean x reader. ---- Oh man...even though I understand that she has every right to move on and start over, I cant even imagine the betrayal. Nothing will ever be the same between these two and its gonna cause some series trust issues with Sam. Even if he is Dean’s ride or die, till the end of the line and all that, this is gonna damage their relationship, subconsciously or not.

Vicious Circle by @redgillan

Summary: AU where when someone meets their soulmate a mark appears on their left ring finger. It grows into a line as they spend time with their soulmate until the circle is compete. Bucky x reader. ---- Yeah this was incredibly rude and uncalled for. I have NEVER read a soulmate AU like this and I LOVED it. Oh my god, what kind of sick, twisted soulmate thing is this?!?! What kind of universe comes up with something like that and thinks thats the way soulmates should work!?!?

Strangers in the Night by @redgillan

Summary: You’re on a date, but things aren't going so well. You find refuge in the restroom where you meet a man who’s also having a bad night. Together, you make an escape plan. Bucky x reader.

His Golden Girl by @interestedbystanderwrites

Summary: Inspired by the 2018 Golden Globes. Sebastian Stan x reader. Completed Two part miniseries. Smut.

Notice by @writemarvelousthings

Summary: Based off Notice by Little Mix. Steve Rogers x reader. ----��Oh my god i loved this so much. Steve is such a little bitch!!!! I can’t even imagine how stupid and insecure he made her feel 😭 I really liked how you wrote this! Usually when someone in the relationship is being distant in fics, it’s like he’s never around and maybe blowing her off to hang out with someone else or kinda ignoring her throughout the day, acting like nothings wrong (and there’s nothing wrong with those fics! I love them!) but the way you wrote it is so much worse!! He apparently doesn’t realize he’s doing it and he’s just being clueless but she feels alone in her own home and the places she should be comfortable and the fact that Nat and Bucky are concerned?? Oh my god it breaks my heart.

Make You Squirm by @piscesbarnes

Summary: Bucky lets you try a fantasy of yours with him. Bucky x reader. Smut.

Tease by @piscesbarnes

Summary: After accidentally sending Bucky a nude, he finds you more desirable than he did before. The problem? You two weren’t the bestest of friends. Bucky x reader. Smut.

How We Met by @revengingbarnes

Summary: “I can't believe we’ll have to tell how kids how we met and that’ll be the story”. Bucky x reader.

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artificialqueens · 6 years ago

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cat got your tongue? (bob x naomi) -- frenchy

a/n: hello!! i dropped 2 fics and dipped, but hi again! i was looking through some requests for an idea on what people are wanting to read, and especially any ships people want, and i found a few requests for bob and specifically bob/naomi. i got BIG inspired because i love me a more rare pair AND i love them both so much, they are the cutest!! luv them. i was hesitant to share/write bc i’m not sure if many ship, but i decided to fully send it anyway. anyway enjoy!! <3

Bob buzzed with anticipation, bouncing on his heels as he stood in the airport terminal, hands clutching a thick cardboard poster and eyes on a search mission. He nudged his glasses up absentmindedly, trying his best to keep his sign visible among the dozens of reuniting families, tourists, and rolling suitcases. There was always something about airports that put Bob on the edge, whether it be the pressure of being on time for a flight or the fear of delays and being stuck wandering for hours – though neither gave reason for his current flurry of nerves, as he wasn’t here for a flight himself, but instead to pick up a friend. He had felt the building anxiety all morning, but lacked the ability to pinpoint why it had chosen to plague him today, and potentially sour what was intended to be a pleasant reunion.

With an impatient click of his tongue, Bob couldn’t even resume pondering his anxiety, since it was quickly replaced with annoyance. Figures Naomi had to take her sweet time coming off the plane. Bob could already picture her stopping to snap a picture against the window, imagining the way she’d caption it “hi, new york” for her Instagram story, or write something about it being “golden hour”. It was almost too vivid in his mind.

The (probably not) imaginary scenario he was in the works of fabricating was prematurely abandoned by the sight of a certain leggy supermodel in the distance. Immediately perking up, Bob tightened his grip on his sign, his face breaking out in a shining grin.

His face already began to cramp as he waited for Naomi to look up from her phone, presumably texting him to see where he was, where they could meet up. If only she’d glance up and see him, but no, she instead slowed down, phone coming to press against her ear. Bob wished he could make a moving walkway appear in front of her, something to glide her over so he could whack her with the sign he spent a half hour making.

He decided against grabbing the phone that vibrated in his pocket, instead staying put, hoping it wouldn’t be long before she noticed him. With the other passengers slowly dissolving from around him, it made it almost impossible for them not to see each other. Naomi finally took a good look around her, eyes meeting Bob’s and a smile following not long after.

Pocketing her phone, Naomi started towards Bob, but stopped midway with a squint of her eyes and her attention on Bob’s sign. “Oh my Godddd,” he heard her drawl in the that voice he missed hearing, a voice he’d be hearing on his TV for the next – hopefully - several weeks.

“There’s my All Star!” Bob spread out his arms, wrapping himself around his friend as soon as they were close enough, feeling accomplished in how he had achieved a Naomi Smalls eye roll within only seconds of their reunion.

“Bob, you’re totally making a scene,” Naomi groaned, but still lifted her arms in a reciprocation of his hug – only after first squirming under her dramatic friend’s stronghold.

She didn’t see the way Bob was fully cheesing until they had pulled apart, and the sight made her heart simultaneously melt and hurt. It wasn’t often that she saw Bob look so sincere and even less often that they even saw each other in person due to their schedules and events.

“I missed you, bitch! Can I miss my friends in public and cry like a little toddler without fear of judgement?” Bob moved to link arms with Naomi, which she didn’t fight him on.

“No.”

“And to think I was going to take you home with me,” Bob mimicked Naomi’s eye roll when she featured it a second time. “You like the sign, huh? Don’t even answer me, I know you do,” Bob shrugged proudly, like it was no big deal, the sign that read “THIS WAY TO THE DRAG RACE HALL OF FAME!” in bold print and tacky star decorations held limply from his right hand.

She nudged his shoulder with her own, their arms not breaking their link.

The teasing moment died when they both remarked each other’s fond smiles. “What?” Bob chuckled, nudging Naomi back as they walked away from the gates. He wondered if the blush on her cheeks was just the Universe playing tricks on him. A cruel trick that caused a blush of his own to spread, one he was hopeful she didn’t notice.

“I like it. And, like. Thanks for coming to pick me up. It’s been - oh my Gosh - stressful as hell. All Stars was something else, girl. Season Eight had nothing on the past few weeks,” Naomi sighed, focusing her eyes on the ground below them. The tiles of the airport floor. The way the lines moved underneath them. “And I’ve never been happier to be in New York, even if just for a few days.”

“Well, you’ll have to tell me everything. Spare no details, or else. You already know that I’ll find out through Monét if you lie about how bad you did in all the challenges–”

“Oh my God, you’re ridiculous,” Naomi pushed him away with a laugh. She led the way towards the baggage claim, Bob following closely behind her, laughing heartily at his own joke.

+++

“Like, the Henny. Stacy Layne Motherfuckin’ Matthews, Bob. It was crazy. I was starstruck, honestly,” Naomi laughed, one leg crossed under her and the other hanging off the edge of the sofa. They were settled in Bob’s living room, avoiding the film equipment and lighting setup in the corner that was used for his podcast with Monét. Naomi scrolled through her phone as Bob watched her, mug in his hands and affectionate smile on his face.

“I’m so happy for you, and super jealous. I might have to start a real girl group with Stacy. So, this means you didn’t go home first, right?” Bob segued, more serious. He could tell Naomi wasn’t keen on talking about it immediately, but he was dying to know. “You don’t have to tell me everything, but I’d rather be prepared for when I see it on TV.”

“I know, Bob. And you know that I’m not supposed to say anything–”

“Stacy Layne Matthews?”

“That’s different.”

Bob sighed, but he knew she had no obligation to spill. He’d just have to wait like everyone else. “Okay. Okay, yeah, that’s fine. Don’t tell me about how you won All Stars 4, I’ll just have to see it for myself.”

“Bob,” Naomi warned, shaking her head with a sad smile. “I trust you. I didn’t,” she shrugged half-heartedly.

“Didn’t what?”

“Win. I didn’t win,” Naomi pouted dramatically, but Bob could see the real sadness in her eyes, beyond her trying to act dramatic to put him off. “I won a lip sync. I made the top four. I don’t know who won yet, but I didn’t. So.”

“Top four! Oh my God, Naomi,” Bob isolated the good news he heard, and placed his mug off to the side in order to give her a congratulatory hug. “Fuck the crown, or whatever. That’s still a big deal. Farther than I thought you’d make it, if we’re bein’ honest,” Bob added in a deadpan, the laugh threatening to break his act.

But Naomi didn’t laugh like she normally would, still facing Bob on the sofa but her eyes were downcast.

“Hey,” Bob scooted forward, placing a hand on Naomi’s shoulder comfortingly. “I know you wanted it. But you should still be proud of yourself.”

Naomi nodded, her phone long abandoned in order to preoccupy herself with the hem of her shirt. “Yeah. I was just, like, so close. It still sucks.”

She looked up, and she could’ve sworn they weren’t sharing each other’s space so closely before. Something in her jumped, flipping the switch to send her heartbeat into its maximum speed setting. When did Bob get so close? Why wasn’t he giving her a consoling hug and scooting back away?

“Um,” she muttered, barely audible between them. If Bob had just leaned back away, she wouldn’t have made the mistake of glancing down towards his lips. She wouldn’t have looked back up, hopeful to meet his eyes, but instead catch him doing the same. She wouldn’t have had the chance to kiss him back when he finally closed the distance between them.

Naomi had thought about kissing Bob before. She imagined it for the first time during the filming for season eight, after they had properly met. After being in a competition with him for a few weeks. After joking around with each other in the “Shade Tree” room, in front of the camera, Naomi on Bob’s lap. After hugging each other and saying they loved each other, solidifying their new friendship, Naomi still wishing she could beat Bob but knowing she never would.

Bob had thought about kissing Naomi before, many times. After being friends for two years. After all the times they visited each other’s shows, or hung out with fellow queens and gravitated towards each other in the larger groups. After Naomi came to watch Bob in ‘Angels in America’, or spent time at his house watching Pose, or was a guest on his podcast. After Naomi was away for weeks and didn’t win All Stars 4.

Neither of them were ready for how it really was, in the small living room, on Bob’s sofa.

Whether this was just Bob cheering her up or not, Naomi took the opportunity to kiss him back without giving it much thought or question. It was timid, and a little shy, but Bob felt like he was growing wings from the kiss alone.

“You just kissed me,” Naomi whispered after they had parted, like they weren’t the only two people in the room, like someone could have heard or seen. She blinked at him, eyes adjusting, her blank expression not giving Bob much to work with in terms of reading her. She peered into him, not with perplexity or shock, but with a subtle awe. Her lips were still puckered, as if anticipating a second kiss. He battled with the idea of answering her, and the idea of leaning back in again. The only option he didn’t have was leaning too far away – a rope threatening to sever them both in half if he so much as considered it. And he didn’t. He couldn’t trade away the comfort and familiarity he felt pressed so close to her, even if he had just risked ruining that with a single kiss.

“Yeah,” Bob nodded slowly, his ordinarily bold self gone within moments, rendering the older queen speechless. Stomach doing somersaults, voice quivering. All unusual for someone so typically assertive. “I’m… I don’t know,” He answered, riddled with uncertainty. His answer reflected his feelings on both what he did, why he did it, and what her reaction was. He didn’t know anything in those few seconds. Or were they minutes? He was going mad in an attempt to gauge her reaction. She had kissed back, but that didn’t reassure or satisfy his conscience; instinct and feelings lacked synonymity in moments like this. Naomi not making an effort to push him away or gasp in disgust didn’t mean she shared his long-lasting feelings.

He could easily pass this off as a joke, right? It wouldn’t be off-brand for Bob, to fuck around and maybe go too far with a joke, a kiss that he could easily claim meant nothing but a friendly pass. Could save him from the inevitable rejection.

Except that claiming the kiss as a joke wouldn’t warrant how tense the moment they shared now was, the moment after the kiss. A friendly peck was one thing – the tenderness and earnestness in that kiss was reasonable cause to ax the idea of saying that it wasn’t a big deal. That this wasn’t really happening.

Naomi narrowed her eyes, worrying her bottom lip. “Why sorry?” Bob wondered if the smile he heard in her voice was authentic or all in his head. He risked a peek at her lips, a single corner slyly inching upwards. Was she fucking with him, like he had debated doing?

His anxiety was relieved by Naomi raising a hand, her fingers barely ghosting along his jaw, slower than either of them would have liked.

Bob held his breath.

“I don’t want you to be sorry,” she continued after a beat, making Bob realize that he never answered her. “What’s wrong, Bob?” Naomi pouted innocently; Bob noted how her eyes harbored mischievousness, still. “Cat got your tongue all of a sudden?”

“No, uh,” Bob cleared his throat with a shake to his head, desperate to not let this die at the account of suddenly becoming a deer caught in headlights. “I thought – I didn’t want to, like. I didn’t mean for it to be –”

“Bob.”

“You can totally ignore me for at least a week –”

“Bob,” Naomi raised her voice, effectively overpowering Bob, who was oblivious to how fast he had been rambling. “For the love of God. Stop talking. For, like, once in your life?” If anyone else had said this, Bob would have jumped straight into defense mode, but the fond look in Naomi’s eyes and the humor in her tone prevented that. “You were doing so well.”

She was fucking with him. This wasn’t about Bob, or any kind of reciprocation – she went almost 5 weeks with no attention. He didn’t want to hear her admit it.

“– I’m just fucking with you,” Bob screwed his eyes shut in an extreme wince after hearing the words come out of his own mouth.

“What?” He couldn’t deny the sudden and genuine confusion in her voice this time. “What do you mean?”

“I’m, uh,” Bob laughed unnaturally, pushing it into the empty space between them. “It’s just a joke, girl. Testing out my acting chops for my next audition.” Bob played along with the wicked, brutal joke he just turned his admission of feelings into. He could deal with Naomi’s frustration with a prank more than he could handle her laughing in his face if she knew what that kiss really meant.

“Um,” Naomi was the one at a loss for words this time, “oh. Wait, like – what? You’re serious?” She looked at him weirdly, seemingly unconvinced. And, God, how could she be? She waited a moment, her weird look urging Bob to take back what he said – but he didn’t. “Okay,” she nodded curtly, pulling away from the comfort of sharing Bob’s personal space – the rope that tethered them together was left frayed, laying on the floor before Bob, as she made a beeline for the door.

“Where are you going?” Bob watched her in panic, the somersaults in his stomach bouncing at record speed, wondering how his plan to save the situation only made it worse. And more anxiety inducing. Why wasn’t she laughing? Swatting at him and rolling her eyes in the way that she does when he playfully insults her makeup or makes fun of her for being younger than some of the shoes in his closet? “Naomi, girl,” Bob ignored his own aside, following her and stopping only a few feet away as she struggled to slip on her shoes. “It wasn’t that deep. I’m sorry. If it was weird. You were upset, I thought it’d distract you, or make you laugh. I was waiting for you to shove me away and laugh, or call me gross, or… I don’t know.”

With a heavy sigh, Naomi looked over her own shoulder. “No, yeah, I know. It sure made me forget all about losing All Stars. Ha ha. It was funny, see? You’ll kill your audition. I just forgot that I have to grab lunch with, uh, with Kim.”

“It’s six o’clock.”

“Kim slept late.”

“She’s not even in New York. Naomi, come on,” Bob reached out, laying a hand gently on her shoulder. Ignoring how his heart stung when she recoiled. “You’re mad.”

“Yeah, I am,” Naomi wasted no time arguing, turning her head back around and fumbling with the lock on the door. She was fixed on leaving.

“Can you just turn around, like, for a second?” Bob grew impatient, knowing he couldn’t let her walk out. “Please?”

He had a hand on his hip when he heard the fumbling stop, and when Naomi slowly turned around to face him. He opened his mouth to speak, but Naomi beat him to it. Her throat was reddening, rising from below her collared shirt and up towards her face.

“It was a joke? It was really something to distract me? You thought it’d make me laugh?” Her voice was taut, forced. Bob knew she was holding back. Whether it was a sob or a string of insults, he wasn’t sure.

Bob hadn’t expected the sudden confrontation when she had been so intent on leaving, and scoffed in offense. He laughed incredulously, glancing around as if there was someone else or perhaps a camera in the room. He couldn’t look at her, not for more than a few seconds at a time. “It was a joke, I just told you that.”

“Bob, stop,” Naomi groaned in frustration, and if Bob would have blinked, he could’ve missed the glassy look in her eyes, the threat of tears. “Even I know you don’t make jokes like that. That was low, and the weirdest timing for something like that. It didn’t feel like a joke. And it wasn’t funny, not really.”

“I’m-” Bob looked back up at her, eyes wide. “Naomi, girl, whoa-”

“I’ve been waiting for you to do that since we filmed. Filmed our season,” Naomi’s arms were crossed, her eyes watering. “That’s, like, two years, Bob.” She bowed her head, in a way that would have hid her face had she been wearing a wig.

Bob stood wide eyed, frozen. His eyes didn’t blink for at least 30 seconds. “Naomi, I…” He didn’t know what to say, searching for the right words to fix this quicker than he managed to ruin it. “Really?”

“Yeah. Yeah, really.”

“You never said anything.”

Naomi laughed, but there was no humor in it. “I never said anything because I was afraid you’d do what you just did. That you’d make it all into a joke. Think that I’m a joke,” she placed a hand on the doorknob behind her, the confidence that fueled her confrontation faltering.

“Wait, don’t. Please stay. I chose the worst way to do this,” Bob stepped forward, eyes pleading. “You can hate me, unfollow me even, but I can’t let you leave thinking I meant any of that. I don’t even have an audition booked,” he admitted softly, but didn’t expect her to believe him. He wasn’t really proving to be the most trustworthy person. He really thought he did something, huh? Beyond fucking up both their years of friendship and something that could have gone beyond? “I… Like you? More than a friend, or another sister, or whatever. Genuinely like you. I just happen to be a huge fucking idiot and did something about it before coming to terms with the fact that you don’t feel that way. Thought I could cover it up, but I had to kiss you at least once. I didn’t really expect you to kiss me back, so I guess… I guess I panicked?“

“You panicked because I kissed you back? Oh my God, that is so backwards, Bob. You’re so… You’re such an idiot. I say it all the time, but I’m serious,” Naomi raised her eyebrows in disbelief, accompanying it with a shake of her head.

They stared at each other for a moment, regarding the other, and also this whole fucked up situation. The misunderstanding and how stupid the both of them were, how neither knew how to communicate.

“We’re both idiots,” Naomi continued, a smile growing. Bob couldn’t help but match it.

“You can say that again. So, uh. Can I kiss you again and not ruin it this time?”

“Please.”

Bob stepped forward, arm reaching for Naomi’s waist to pull her close, their lips meeting again in a kiss Bob definitely preferred to the first one.

She instinctively brought both hands up to the side of Bob’s head, pulling him closer and making the timidity of their kiss obsolete. Making a surprised noise, Bob gave way to let Naomi take control of the kiss, his head spinning. She felt him wrap his arms fully around her waist, both of them trying to close the distance that didn’t even exist between them anymore.

“Wait,” Naomi pulled away, taking a large breath. “Can I just say. I’m really glad you were joking about that audition, because you definitely would not have gotten the part. Your acting has gotten much worse. Really unconvincing, Bob.”

“You’re such a bitch,” he smiled lazily back at her, positive that she could sense the relief that flowed from him as his shoulders visibly relaxed. Their laughs mingled and died together as they started for another kiss, Bob stopped right before his lips met Naomi’s. “Can I just say, you’re a winner. Too good for All Stars, honestly. To me, you didn’t lose,” he laid a hand on her neck, sliding toward the back of her head. He leaned into her side, mouth nearly meeting where her jaw and ear met. “Twice,” Bob added in a mock-seductive whisper, exuding an instinctively hearty laugh and gentle shove from Naomi.

“I hate you,” she laughed sarcastically, shaking her head at the sheer ridiculousness he insisted upon even during such a tender moment. “Aaaaand you just killed the mood.” Naomi gave a sigh of disapproval, but Bob could tell she held no authentic contempt.

“Yeah? Well I just thought of something that might make this,” he gestured between them, raising his brow, “a little complicated.”

Naomi narrowed her eyes, puzzled, but had to smile weakly at his acknowledgement toward whatever they were, with or without labeling it. “Go on.”

“I think Monét’s gonna take it personally when she finds out I’m not rooting for her to win All Stars,” Bob admitted, eliciting a laugh from the both of them, Naomi throwing her head back. She swatted at him playfully after catching her breath.

“Bob, you already know I’m not going to win. That was, like, what started this,” Naomi enunciated her words slowly, making it clear that she was stating the obvious. “I know you’re older than me, but girl, is your memory already going down the toilet?”

“Pfft, you wish, crazy bitch,” Bob sneered, endearment flashing in his smile and humor in his voice. “I know you won’t. Your fans knew you had no chance of winning season eight but did that stop them? Not that there were many of them,” they gasped in unison, Naomi in offense and Bob mocking her on cue. “Don’t mean I won’t be the biggest, most obnoxious Naomi Smalls advocate in the bar – nay, on the street.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Naomi matched his affectionate look, exposing her sarcasm. She wrapped her long arms around his shoulders, effectively pulling him back from when she had shoved him away, leaning their foreheads together.

“Ridiculous? Maybe. But a winner? Absolutely,” Bob emphasized the final word, his beam matched Naomi’s as they leaned into another kiss, “And I’m not talking about Drag Race this time.”

#rpdr fanfiction #bob the drag queen #naomi smalls #bob x naomi #fluff #angst #hurt/comfort #a little bit of it anyway #frenchy #and i oop #rare pair #writing this fully made me ship #canon compliant #s8 #on set fic #submission

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richiefuckfacetozier · 7 years ago

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Okay, imagine the IT kids in the 2010s. Eddie's is gay and with Richie and Sonia knows about it, but she desperately tries to avoid talking about it and pretend it isn't true. And then Love Simon comes out, and Eddie convinces her to see it with him, and it helps her accept Eddie being gay and being with Richie

This took a bit to answer because I am on vacation and wanted to write a little fic about this very thing! I’m doing it in first person present because that’s how it is in the book Simon Vs the Homosapien Agenda, which is a terrible title for a book thank god they named the movie Love, Simon.

Exhale

Located on Ao3

Richie and I lay on the couch watching television. He has an arm around my waist, while my head is in the crook of his neck. I trace my fingers along his arm slowly then sigh softly.

“What’s wrong?” Richie asks immediately. I smile at the intuitiveness my boyfriend always has even with the slightest of mood change.

“I’m taking mom to Love, Simon tonight.” I mumble.

“No fucking way.” Richie uses his other arm to push himself up, so he is leaning above me to scan my face for a lie. “She’ll never agree to go.”

“I mean…”

“That movie is the funny, heartwarming, adorable, and the gay romantic comedy we both have craved since we were 13. Your dragon of a mother will hate every minute of it. I’m picturing her face and oh my godddd…” Richie starts laughing which brings my anxiety to a tipping point. I can feel my face heating up faster than a fry cooker.

“Thanks for the fucking support.” I try to roll off the couch and move away but Richie traps me in his arms. I attempt to struggle, “No! You don’t get to cuddle me if you are going to be an asshole!” Richie starts to run his hands up my sides making me laugh and squirm. He swings his leg over to straddle my legs and get a better hold on tickling.

“Mercy! Mercy!” I laugh still wiggling aggressively. Richie grabs my hands and brings them above my head. He smiles down at me then brings his mouth forward to kiss. I return the pressure but pull away soon after with an unsure expression. “You really think I shouldn’t take her?”

“Ah. Still on the Ice Queen.” Richie leans back entwining his fingers with mine. “You should definitely take her. I just think she’ll refuse to go or walk out before it is done. Which will just hurt your feelings baby.”

“I’m not a baby and it won’t hurt my feelings if she walks out.” I lie terribly. “I don’t care what she thinks.”

“You’re not a baby, you’re MY baby.” Richie kisses my neck slowly his lips giving my skin goosebumps. “And it WILL hurt your feelings. You broke your phone when she told you to break up with me.”

“It was an old phone anyway.”

“You yelled at me for 10 minutes straight when she ignored you for a week after coming out.”

“You told me I had small hands.”

“You do have small hands.”

“I blacked out during that argument.” I muse.

“When are you two going?” Richie says softly.

I bite the inside of my cheek subconsciously. “Tonight, I didn’t tell her what the movie is about.”

Richie places a hand on the cheek I am chewing. “It’ll be ok. I’ll sneak in the back and will be ready to watch the rest of it with you when she runs out.”

I glare at him but still manage a little smile. “Fuck you. She might like it.”

“We’ll see.” Richie laughs then kisses my glare away.

“What’s the movie about?” My mother asks as we wait in line for popcorn. Her arms are crossed and she looks thoroughly bored.

“It’s a teen romcom,” I say quickly.

“Well, that doesn’t sound too bad.” She says reluctantly as we step forward to the cashier. “Can I get a large popcorn and a medium soda…”

I look to the side and see Richie wave before heading into the movie. True to his word, he came to watch the movie.

A million anxious thoughts are flying through my head. I keep trying to convince myself that this IS a good idea. She WILL see how accepting and loving Simon’s parents are. Then change her mind about me.

“What do you want to drink?” My mother’s voice cuts through.

“Diet Coke is fine. Thanks, Ma.” I say patiently. “So Ma, I was thinking we should get dinner with Richie after the movie.” She tenses up immediately and does not answer. “I know you’re not the biggest fan but it would be nice for my mother and my boyfriend get along. He’s really good to me.”

“I’ll probably be tired after the movie.” She says tersely. The drinks are handed to her and I grab the popcorn bitterly. Then we head toward the theater.

My mother briefly glances at the poster of the movie before walking in to grab seats. “The boy on the poster looks a little like you, Eddie-bear. He’s cute.”

I grin tightly. “Thank you, but I like to think my eyes look less tired than his do.”

She tuts at my joke clearly not realizing I am kidding. “Oh Eddie. That’s not what I meant.”

There is a nervous energy flowing through me as we try to find a good place to sit. I can’t believe I got her this far without an issue. All I can do now is pray she does not run out before the movie is finished.

As we sit down the lights dim, I take a peek at the very back row and spot Richie lounging tossing skittles in the air then catching them in his mouth. I smile at him until he notices me. He makes a show of kissing his palm then blowing the kiss in my direction. I humor him by catching it in my hand and placing the blown kiss against my lips. The nervousness begins to ease.

I love Richie.

I turn back around as the last preview ends and the 20th Century Fox logo vibrates through the room. My palms are sweaty and I’m practically shaking.

I keep peeking at her from the corner of my eyes then the moment of truth happens. Simon begins his opening monologue where he talks about his normal life, great family, adorable friends and he says, “…so I am just like you except I have one huge ass secret…” As Simon looks out the window of his room to see the handsome gardener.

I see my mother tense. My stomach drops as I realize she is absolutely going to walk out. Her hands are gripping the armrests. I continue to eat popcorn acting unperturbed.

As Simon goes out to his car, he says to the gardener, “I like your boots!” And I feel the second-hand embarrassment like I did the first time I watched it with Richie. Last time we laughed and whispered about how Richie used to poorly flirt with me. “I like…your boots!”

Then my mother chuckles.

I stare at her quickly then look back at the screen. I can’t believe my ears just witnessed my mother laughing at a gay boy unsuccessfully flirting.

She laughs a little louder when Simon hits his head on the steering wheel in shame. She doesn’t completely relax but is definitely into the story.

Throughout the film, she smiles, laughs, nudges me at cute parts, and I am in a state of complete elation. She mentions how much Leah is just like Beverly, sassy but sweet to me. She whispers how much she hates Martin and thinks he is the worst person.

We both weep of laughter when Simon has a daydream of his straight friends ‘coming out’ and our identical cackling laughter was so loud after Abby says, “I’m heterosexual,” and her mom cries dramatically, “Oh God help me, Jesus!”

Every time a guy flirts with Simon she asks me, “Oh my god! Is it him?! Is that Blue?”

“Ma!” I whisper back with a laugh. “You’ll see.”

“This is torture.” She replies.

When she starts crying, it’s beyond overwhelming for me. She cried after I came out to her, didn’t say a word, just cried. But she is crying now as Simon is outed to the whole school.

She cries when Simon’s father handles it badly.

Continues to sob as Simon ignores his family.

She cries when the bullies make fun of Simon publically then claps with everyone as the teacher yells at the bullies.

The crying keeps coming as Simon blows up at Martin. “I’m supposed to be the one to decide when and where and who knows. That’s supposed to be my thing. You took that from me!…So just leave me the FUCK alone!”

Mom is sobbing really hard. I look over at her and say softly, “Ma, it’s ok.”

“No, It’s not!” She says in full voice. People around us shush her but she ignores them. “I’m so sorry Eddie-bear. I’m just…so sorry.”

I don’t know what to say so I nod back. “We’ll talk after the movie.”

As the movie goes on mom calms down a bit.

My favorite moment comes when Simon and his mother finally talk. He asks her if she knew and I can sense mom getting anxious about the conversation. I think about how horrible our last talk was and wonder if she is thinking the same thing. As Jennifer Garner’s character says “…But these last few years, more and more, it almost like I can feel you holding your breath…” My mom reaches over and grabs my hand. I squeeze it and start to cry myself. I don’t think I’ve ever loved my mom more in my entire life. “…You get to exhale now, Simon. You get to be more you than you have been in…in a very long time. You deserve everything you want.”

When the credits roll and the lights go up, mom spends the whole time talking about her favorite parts. That she is so happy to have guessed correctly about who Blue was.

Richie walks down the path to them hesitantly. “Hi Mrs. K! Hey Eddie! I saw you both here and thought I would say…well…hello.”

She looks at him and gives a small smile then throws her arms around him. Richie stares at me in confusion and my mouth parts in awe.

She pulls back with a huge smile on her face. “You are such a good boyfriend to my son and deserve to know that. I would like to take you to dinner with us if you are free?” She has an expression of complete sincerity.

“Sure! I’d love to grab dinner with my two favorite Kaspbraks.” I grin at him. Mom leads the way out of the movie theater. Richie hangs back to take my hand and kiss my cheek.

I let out an exhale of air I didn’t know I was holding. As if all the pain I have been feeling is blowing slowly out of me.

I don’t think I’ve ever been this happy.

@sam-i-am2468 @ohheydatsme @missingstanleyuris @jaederp @loser-marsh @jem-carstairs-is-perfection @reddieaddict @richieskata @reddie-brasil @lesbihonest-imhellagay @richietoaster

#eddie kaspbrak #richie tozier #reddie #sonia kaspbrak #i am a loser #Shannon writes #love simon #love simon spoilers #not much but a couple quotes

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