#root x you

[imaginesforfandom]

Close Call

summary: after a high-stakes mission, the reader becomes angry at Root for not taking better care of herself when they discovers Root has been injured. To calm the reader's anger, Root surprises them with a passionate kiss, conveying both her apology for not being careful and her gratitude for the reader's concern. The kiss brings the reader's anger to a halt and strengthens their bond, with Root promising to be more cautious in the future and assuring the reader that she'll always come back to them.

Close Call

You had been partners with Root for a while now, working on high-stakes missions and trying to keep up with the enigmatic hacker's unpredictable nature. Tonight's mission was particularly intense, involving a dangerous group that could compromise national security. The two of you had just narrowly escaped a close call, and you were both panting, trying to catch your breaths in the dimly lit alley.

Root had been her usual confident and fearless self throughout the operation, but something about tonight had been different. Maybe it was the way her eyes seemed more focused, her movements slightly less fluid than usual. It gnawed at the back of your mind, but you pushed it aside, too wrapped up in the mission to dwell on it.

However, as you both retreated to a safer location to regroup, you finally noticed it. A gash on Root's arm, oozing blood. You rushed over, your concern immediately taking over.

"Root, you're hurt!" you exclaimed, carefully examining the wound.

"It's just a scratch," Root brushed it off, but the pain in her eyes was undeniable.

"Just a scratch?" Your voice was laced with anger and fear. "You could have been seriously hurt! Why didn't you say anything? Why didn't you take better care of yourself?"

Root met your gaze, her own eyes softening as she realized the gravity of the situation and your genuine worry for her. She opened her mouth to respond but found herself at a loss for words. Instead, she did something unexpected. She leaned in and pressed her lips to yours, silencing your concerns with a passionate kiss.

The kiss was a mixture of relief and frustration, a silent apology for not being more careful and an expression of gratitude for your unwavering concern. As the seconds passed, you melted into the kiss, your anger dissipating as quickly as it had come. Root pulled away, her eyes locked onto yours.

"I promise to be more careful next time," Root whispered, her voice barely audible above the sound of your racing heart.

You nodded, your anger replaced with a newfound closeness. "Good," you replied, "because I don't know what I'd do if something happened to you."

Root smiled, her thumb gently caressing your cheek. "I'll always come back to you," she vowed, sealing her promise with another tender kiss, a promise that made your heart skip a beat.

[galaxyspeaking]

Come to me, don’t be scared

[birdy-babe]

OK BUT IMAGINE BEING STOLAS

Literally a tragic Disney princess probably crying his eyeliner off and watching hella-novella literally heartbroken after what went down on the full moon-

And your phone dings

It’s a text

From Blitzo

After a huge fight

So

after freaking out

Wondering what he possibly could have said

You finally hype yourself up enough to finally check the text with desperate, final-bit-of-hopefullness anticipation

And

It’s fucking

THIS

Stolas is so much stronger than me theres nothing in the world that could have stopped me from instant portal-ing to him and killing him right then and there.

[whatdoinose]

you don't stop getting percieved as whatever sex they assume you first had when you come out btw.

come out as a trans man to your school? youre a weird girl that is also trans. you are hated. you have 0 of the privelege of being treated as not a woman and all the horribleness of bigotry. you are whatever gender that will harm you most.

.

"oh sorry u cant go on this school trip because yr not a girl and they dont wanna room with you and if you room with any men you are horribly unsafe"

"oh sorry you don't wanna be sexually harassed? well yr a man who cares? this is punching up. be a man why are you upset?"

"mm you have no say here actually cuz youre a GIRL and girls don't have a voice here. ur body my choice tehe"

and many more.

.

all of these things can be directed at the same person. you are not more priveleged than other trans people cuz some losers out there have the most basic radfem ass understanding of how oppression works. you culd pass perfectly but the moment they know you are trans you will experience the harmful intersectionality between misogyny and transphobia. to deny that ever happened and that there are complex experiences out there is to deny trans people of their oppression. no matter your intention it is horrible and self harming to the community.

[murmurmurl]

I'm back on my bullshit I guess

that redraw I was talking about.. previous versions under the cut

I like how it's less stiff now

[fieldofdaisiies]

It‘s Late

Azriel x Reader; I don't know how this short story happened, but I had an idea and @brekkershadowsinger helped develop it hehe. Warning, this is smut with very little plot.

"It‘s late, baby." Your hands sneak around your mate’s strong shoulders in tender caress, sliding down to his chest and his shadows awaken at your closeness, swirling around you and brushing over your arms. "Come to bed."

Azriel groans at your touch, his body relaxing in reaction to it. You can feel the shift, a warm, rich feeling greeting you through the bond, welcoming you and wrapping around you like a cosy embrace. Love.

"I‘ll be there shortly … one more report, my mate." His voice sounds almost a bit pained, almost like he has to force himself to continue with the reports and not leave them as they are and fully you straight away.

You can feel he wants to join you in bed, more than anything else. But his spymaster duty is not something he doesn’t easily put aside.

His body tenses. Tipping his head back, he pulls his lower lip between his teeth. You take it as a chance to kiss his cheek.

Tonight, you‘re having none of it. You don’t want to wait and you know how desperately he needs a break.

"I want you now." You place a kiss to the spot right beneath his ear..

He grinds his teeth, every muscle in his body tense. He is fighting his desire to join you and you almost have to giggle.

"Five more minutes,” he grinds out.

You kiss a path down to his ear, hovering right above it. Then you kiss his earlobe. "Now, my mate, or I‘ll put on my clothes again."

The shadowsinger spins around so fast you barely have time to catch yourself on his broad shoulders to keep you upright. He blows out a long breath, eyes darkening as they skate over your body. "Fuck me." He smacks his hand over his face and wipes it down harshly. "Don’t do this to me. Rhys needs those reports tomorrow."

"And I," —you step between his legs, veiling your voice in a sultry tone as you lean in— "need you."

His hands are on your hips in an instant. "Rhys is going to kill me," he says but keeps pulling you in until you slide onto his lap, legs braced on either side of his hips. His chin drops, and he leans in to kiss your neck. "And all because of my pretty little and terribly needy mate." His voice has changed, now having a sensual hue to it and is at least an octave deeper.

You sigh at the feeling of his lips closing over your neck, before he lets his tongue poke out and glide over your heated skin. “What shall I do with you now?” He tips his head back, an almost wicked grin on his lips. “Distracting me? Making me delay my reports for the High Lord? I assume this calls for some punishment?”

You lean forward, making sure you breast touch his chest, your hand falling to his neck, fingers curling around it. “Or you reward me, for being such a good mate who‘s always needy for you.” You glance up at him through lower lashes, his arousal already pressing against you through the fabric of his cotton pants.

His eyes are dark as the lock with yours, his scarred fingers digging into the soft flesh of your hips. 

“Needy you say?” His right hand slides to your aching centre. “Let me see how needy you are.” A grin appears on his lips as he lets his middle finger slide through your wetness.

“You‘re dripping with arousal.” The grin only widens. “And all of it for me.”

“All for you, Az.” You want to grind against his gingers for some sort of friction, hoping he will give you exactly what you need but he moves his hand away, lifting it to his lips to lick it clean.

“Then I shall truly reward you.” He sharply pulls you in, your lips only inches apart. “Tell me what you want. What you need. How you want me.”

“I need you, Az. I need you to make me feel good,” you breathe against his mouth. “Plea—”

He steals the word from your lips as he kisses you, desperate and hungry, almost like a starved male. And as your lips merge, teeth clashing and tongues fighting for dominance, he begins to move your hips, grinding you against his growing hardness. 

“Az!” you gasp, breaking the kiss to catch your breath. “More. I need more.”

You don’t have to tell him twice. With strength that is beyond you he lifts you onto his desk —onto the reports— spreading your thighs wide before lifting your legs over his shoulders, the tips of your toes touching the leathery membrane of his wings.

“So wet,” Azriel hums against your skin as his lips cast down the inside of your thighs, lower and lower, until he kisses your throbbing centre.

He doesn’t only kiss you there. He drives his tongue deep into you, nibbling and suckling, feasting. All the while his fingertips into your thighs, into your ass, kneading until one of them wanders to your centre accompanying his tongue, playing with your clit.

Slick noises fill the air around you as your hips lift off the desk, grinding against his face. Your eyes glaze over with desire, fingers curling around the desk for support, knuckles turning white.

You call out his name, and curses as his tongue licks at your clit, fingers driving deep into you, and your climax nears in tidal waves. 

And when you finally come, it hits you hard. Like your body is on fire, your soul ascending, rising and falling, but Azriel is there to catch you. He helps you ride out your high, his head still between your legs, licking and kissing.

You tug at his hair, making him tips his head up. His fave is damp with you, with your arousal and Azriel grins from one ear to the other. It‘s the most beautiful sight you have ever seen, seeing your mate smile, grin.

Your legs continue to tremble, chest lifting and falling with deep intakes of air, as you come down from your high. Your mate gently lowers your legs, then pulls you back onto his lap, holding you close to his chest. “My pretty little mate, you‘re the best distraction a male could ever ask for.” He kisses the top of your head and you can feel him smile against your hair.

Your arms sneak around him, your face pressed against his chest. “Bath?”

“Absolutely.”

->->->->->->->->->->->->->->->->->->

tags (crossed-out I couldn't tag) : @juulle987 @marimorena06 @danikasthings @younxii @nightcourtwritings @mrofontaine @lunalilyf @whor-3-crux @tired-all-the-time @anni-was-here @ummmmmwat @azbracadabra @j-pendragonx @hollyismentallyillhelp @famousbasementpainter @bsenpai @lena-davina @red-highlady @thesugatoyourtae @azrielsbabyg @aroseinvelaris @moony-thoughts @wrensical003 @cherryjain17 @moonfawnx @crushedcloudsx @devilsfoodcake22  @valeridarkness @azrielscertifiedslut @mulansaucey @cynicalpotato95 @hanasakr @high-bi-andreadytocry @eerievixen @feyretopia @moonlightazriel @randomness-it-is @brekkershadowsinger @eliieee23 @girasoli-e-sorrisi @illyrianvalkyriecarynthian  @kennedy-brooke @highladyofillyria @theworthlessqueen @marina468 @topaz125 @illyrian-dreamer @azriels-mate123 @eos-princess @courtofjurdan @a-frog-with-a-laptop @insufferablebookaddict @cadiawrites @bookishbroadwaybish @tele86 @fuckingsimp4azriel 

[tubbytarchia]

AND THE UNDERDOG YURI TAKES THE WIN WOOOOO ok but that was fun lol, all the ships are super neat and I really didn't expect GemPearl to win but good job guys!?

[juniemunie]

Happy Errorink Day y'all

I did a redraw on the very art that started off my brainrot on these two for nearly a decade,,, wowie

-...-...-...-

Ink!Sans by @comyet

Error!Sans @loverofpiggies

-...-...-...-

and because i couldn't resist-

[escyn]

Old Wounds Reopened[flood]: Kyoshi Warrior Sokka | Blue Spirit

Zukka Week Day 3 (id in alt)

+some close-ups bc I love them so

other things from ZW2024: Day 5 | Day 6 | Day 7

[boop-le-snoot]

kinktober #6

Squealer

kinktober day six | roleplay + innocence kink | 18+, sleazy old man tony and you get into his mansion to, uh, listen to his records. it's all play-pretend. two dorks in love goofin' as usual | word count 2.2k | want more kinktober? click here

“I had no idea you had such a... Pimped-out crib, daddy,” you raised an eyebrow. A smirk tugged at your lips as you took in the interior of one of Tony's numerous mansions.

It was as if you had somehow been magically transported back to the '80s. The glam-rock, golden-days-of-Mötley-Crüe kind. You took off your high-heel Versace shoes, wiggling your toes on the soft zebra-hide imitation rug. A pristine Baldessari hung on a nearby wall, attracting your attention, thus allowing your boyfriend to sneak up on you with a drink in each hand.

“Mmm, I dunno,” Tony faux-pouted. “Seems a bit much even for me. I mean, cheetah and zebra print in one room?” He gestured towards the obscenely tacky couch. “What an eyesore. I should donate it to Goodwill. Maybe someone's grandma will want to remember her youth and get frisky after her old man finally lets her be and leaves for the pits.”

You snorted, accepting your drink. As Tony's arm snaked around your waist to bring your bodies together, you gave the room a good, long ponder.

“This feels very... Coke kingpin. You know, maximalism is making a comeback?” You said, referencing the resurgence of trashy 80s and McBling styles you've seen online. “I kinda dig it. Makes me want to go,” you threw your head back demurely onto his shoulder and batted your eyelashes, “oh no mister, I'm a good girl! I would never do such a thing! I thought we were going to hang out and listen to that record you promised...” You whined in your best baby voice, pouting your lips in a perverse imitation of innocence.

Behind you, Tony stiffened. And then you both laughed. Sputtering over your drinks, holding onto each other. No, it was a truly absurd thing.

But Tony Stark would not be Tony Stark if he couldn't convincingly sell just about any bullshit to anybody. With a flourish, his fingers dug into your waist as he straightened up and steered you towards the turntable.

“Why, but of course, sweetheart. Would make me a terrible host otherwise!” He spoke with a cheeky smile and sparkling eyes. A record was placed and the needle dropped, filling the room with sultry sounds of guitar strings strummed by nimble fingers. It was a song you both knew and loved.

Still laughing, you went for coy. “Oh, dear. My papa would have my head if he knew I listened to that!” Faking shyness, you gave your hips a sway and your skirt a twirl. “I kinda like it, though. Makes me think of someone...” You sighed, acutely aware of embers beginning to smoulder in Tony's dark eyes.

He leaned back to rest against a shelf. “Oh yeah, sweetheart?” He asked, sipping his whiskey without taking his eyes off you. “Special someone?”

“Uh-uh,” you swayed to the song, the bubbly in your blood making you slightly dizzy. It was a great tune, truly! Made you think all kinds of nasty things. “He makes me feel like nobody else does. Like in the song,” you flashed Tony the edge of your smile.

It made him take a calculated step towards you. Taking your arm, he pressed himself into your body, the outline of his budding erection resting against your hip. “I can make you feel even better, princess.” He toyed the strap of your dress.

Bait, hook and sinker.

You feigned nervousness as both of you pushed down on the breaking laughter and settled deeper into your allocated roles. “Mmm, I dunno. It's just a song and I've never done anything like that.”

“Like what?” Tony's fingers slowly pulled down the strap and stroked your bare shoulder. It felt electric.

“Like... Dirty,” you giggled, momentarily breaking character. Truly, this would be one of the least crazy things the two of you had done - just ask Steve!

Tony's empty glass landed on the shelf with a click. He took hold of your shoulders, massaging them gently to release you from the non-existent tension there, and placed his cheek upon your shoulder as you wobbled on your high heels.

“I'll be good to you, baby, I promise,” he rumbled, rubbing his scratchy beard on your tender skin. You giggled again, and Tony steered you towards the oversized couch. “We don't gotta do anything you don't wanna do,” he stressed, “but ya can't leave a man high and dry either. Capiche, Cupcake? Didn't you say you're a good girl?”

Wow, you silently thought to yourself, Tony was a gem amongst rocks. This role suited him to a, perhaps, scandalous amount. The sparkle of mischief in his eye, the sleazy twist to his grin. It promised lots and lots fun.

“I am a good girl,” you stressed, even as he sat you down atop his lap, your short dress hiked so far it barely covered your flimsy underwear.

It was an absolute lie and Tony knew it. He gave you his roundest eyes yet as his hand crawled over your thigh and up under your skirt, palming the lace of your panties with a gesture both posessive and questioning.

“Yeah?” His eyebrows shot up. “You sure 'bout that? 'Cause good girls don't come into strange guy's houses with their tiny lacy panties soaked.” He chided, thumbing the spreading wet spot at your front. Your face flushed in earnest as you fought to clamp your thighs shut over his hand, which did very little to deter him from wiggling his fingers against your cunt. “Don't be ashamed, darlin'. It's perfectly natural.”

You blinked, wide-eyed, awestruck by your boyfriend's commitment to the role. He really was unfairly good at everything he did!

“I don't know, mister,” you finally said. “My daddy said...”

Visibly fighting an eruption of laughter, Tony said. “I'm ya daddy for the night, honey. And I say it's okay.”

Fearing your own giggles making an untimely comeback, you conceded. “If you say so.” And loosened the hold on his hand, allowing him to stroke about the outside of your panties. Your cunt blossomed, fully interested in this sleazy caricature of over the top version of Tony's famed lover boy charm. “I just... Dunno what to do.”

The two of you were beginning to get impatient, if judging from the way his completely erect cock nudged at your side.

“Relax, darlin'. I'll make you feel good,” he bit your shoulder gently as his hand worked its way into your panties and between your outer lips. Tony circled your clit with slippery fingers, delighting in the quiet moans that left your lips, and finally, finally slipped two fingers inside of your sopping cunt. You arched. He groaned. “Fuck, baby, you grip like a vice.”

You flexed your muscles there, intimately familiar with the bumps and valleys of his calloused fingers, and subtly tried to sway your hips to give some much needed attention to your neglected clit. Tony was having none of it. Patting your bottom, he ushered you off his lap, and stuck his fingers in his mouth as he watched you stand up shakily on your tall heels.

“Undress for me,” he ordered, releasing your fingers from his mouth with a pop that added heat to your already flushed cheeks. “Slowly, baby. Don't rush.”

You did just that, sliding the straps of your dress completely off your arms. It was hard to take eyes off Tony for even a second. In the moment, he embodied his character sinfully: blazer and two top buttons of his tight-fitting shirt undone, it was the playboy billionaire of days past that sat in this kitschy living room of a forgotten mansion in Beverly Hills.

His brown eyes watched you shed your dress hungrily as the tent of his slacks rose high and higher to a point where he draped a leisurely hand over it and gave himself an unselfconscious squeeze through his pants. You stood before him in nothing but your heels and lacy thong, preparing to slide the last scrap of fabric down your legs.

“No, leave the rest on,” he said after a moment of contemplation.

“What now, mister?” You gave him a crooked grin, looking coyly at his tented trousers.

“Get down on your knees, baby,” he rasped, offering you a generous hand as you wobbled to sit demurely before him. A picture perfect form of innocence - you batted your lashes and fought the urge to reach for his trousers and swallow him down whole. Tony seemed to be having similar thoughts, as he wordlessly placed your hand on top of his cock and bit his lip. “Take it out.”

You did so, genuinely fumbling with the zipper. The arousal was making your fingers shake and the champagne you had drank certainly did not help your coordination. But then he was out and hard and proud, and you found yourself licking your lips. Seemingly at a loss for words this once, Tony took the back of your head in his hand and scooted closer so his cock was within your reach.

Tentatively, you gave it a lick. Wasting any of the clear, salty fluid was where you drew the line. Tony shuddered.

“Keep doin' that, honey. You're being a very good girl.”

So you did. Kitten licks grew to be bolder as you wrapped your cherry tinted lips over the silken head of Tony's cock, receiving a generous pour of salty liquid for your troubles. Looking up at your man, he was watching you with parted mouth and shaking lips. You gave him a wink and began working him in earnest, producing another moan from him in an instant.

His hand went for your cheek. As suddenly as you'd began, you were pulled off of his cock.

“It'll be over before we even started if you keep doing that, honey,” he explained, breathless. It took a second for him to find his bearings and then he was standing up, looming over you with a naughty smirk and cock glistening in the yellow light, nothing but his trousers undone. “Lay back baby. Show me your pretty pussy.”

You did. The horrendously patterned carpet was soft under your back as you laid down and lewdly spread your legs, showcasing the darkened gusset to your boyfriend's heated stare. Your hands laid demurely atop your belly to top off the picture.

With a thud, Tony landed with his knees on the carpet. Moving aside the gusset if your panties, he bared your swollen cunt to his eyes and you hissed as cool air hit the soaked, heated flesh. Your clit twitched, prompting Tony to slide a finger over it. He savoured your shudder, quick to replace the digit with the tip of his cock.

A gasp left your lips. Unconsciously, your hips wiggled, beckoning Tony to where you needed him most.

“I'm not going to hurt you, baby,” he murmured, transfixed on the way your pussy stretched around the crown of his cock. It disappeared easily into the channel, aided by the moisture that had gathered while you serviced him. That first push was heavenly. You never wanted it to end even as he bottomed put within you, staining the front of his designer slacks with your juices.

You threw your arms around his shoulders unprompted as he began to move. Slowly at first, savouring that first snug slide of your wet cunt over his hard cock, but picking up pace as your moans grew less breathy and more demanding. He always knew how to fuck you just right, hitting that sweet spot time after time with perfect precision until you unraveled, lax and warm, under him, the throb of your cunt allowing him to seek out his own release promptly.

Still inside you and rapidly softening, Tony finally burst into giggles, resting his sweaty forehead against your cheek as his body shook. It made the dam within you burst, too, intensified tenfold when the contractions of your abs made his soft cock slip out of you and seed drip into a puddle on the tacky carpet.

“We gotta tip the cleaning lady,” you snorted, aware of the sticky situation.

Tony just laughed harder, rolling over onto his back and bringing a palm to his forehead.

“Never change, honey. Ever.”

a/n: Thank you, @slothspaghettiwrites for the tiktok you sent me of that pimped out car! Haven't been able to get sleazy old man!Tony out of my head ever since. Tbh, Tony that is just a little sleazy is the best Tony. Even in the throes of Civil War angst that man was so unserious and low-key horny. It's sexy as fuck. So I dedicate this to you, Sloth, and to @persephonehemingway because we're both disgusting perverts for tony in a very similar way.

I genuinely forgot how easy it is for me to write Tony because I wrote this in like 2 hours. He's my best boy. I love him and I don't care that he doesn't even exist.

[tellerficraz]

We don't deserve such magnificence

[starry-bi-sky]

my martha knight au in a nutshell:

Danny/Martha: see up here?

Danny/Martha: *taps skull*

Danny/Martha: intense psychological damage

-----------

Danny/Martha: *upon finding out she's pregnant*

Danny/Martha: oh my god i cant be a mom, I'm fifteen and homeless--

Danny/Martha: im going to be a terrible mother--

Danny/Martha: i live in a cAR--

Danny/Martha: what if the baby inherits my powers? Oh no--

-------------

Danny/Martha post giving birth: i've only had Bruce for a minute and a half but if anything were to happen to him i won't even need to fuse with Vlad, I'm razing this goddamn planet to the ground myself

Danny, to Baby Bruce: you are the last remaining thread of my sanity. I'm going to give you the world :)

---------------

Danny/Martha prior to getting pregnant: Fuck it, if everything in my life has led to this moment, i'm allowed to make one stupid decision. I'm getting drunk and getting laid

---------------

Danny/Martha while Bruce was a toddler: i swear to fucking god i am going to kill the next person who talks to me--

Bruce: hi mommy!! i brought you something!!!

Danny/Martha, immediately flipping on a dime: hi baby!! what do you have?

Bruce, a weird child like his mother: a spider :)

---------------

Danny/Martha, talking to Falcone after he made an unsavory comment at her and Bruce: If you ever come near me or my son again, I will dig up your shithead father's corpse and make you eat his skin.

Danny/Martha: do you understand me

Falcone:... crystal, ma'am

---------------

Danny/Martha new in Gotham: *getting mugged*

Danny/Martha: *grabs man's arm*

Danny/Martha: I AM GOING TO BREAK YOU IN HALF LIKE A TWIG, FUCK BOY, DO YOU HEAR THE WORDS COMING OUT OF MY MOUTH--

(she then proceeds to terrorize Gotham's night life for the next extended period of time, mostly unintentionally)

---------------

Danny/Martha: Danny Fenton?? No. you must be mistaken, my name is Martha Knight.

Danny/Martha: this here is my littlest knight, Bruce.

Danny/Martha: I made him all by myself :]

[ceroseis]

⋆⁺₊ ༄ 𝐝𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭 . . . megumi fushiguro

nsfw ◞ minors dni ┊ ‧₊˚ word count : 800 cw ┊ ‧₊˚ gn!reader, college au, oral sex (m!receiving), praise, petnames (baby)

thinkin' hard abt being tsumiki's college roommate. feelin' oh-so guilty abt having a big fat crush on her little brother. as an upperclassman, you should be guiding him through his first semester of sophomore year, not blowing him in your shared bathroom while she sits on the couch, one deadbolt lock away.

megumi looks so pretty from your special place between his legs— pants shoved haphazardly down his thighs, ruddy cheeks and midnight black hair stuck to a sweaty forehead, lips bitten a beautiful cherry red in his attempt to quiet himself.

"shit-! baby, jus' like that," he hisses between his teeth, knuckles white from their iron grip on the countertop behind him.

your knees are beginning to ache, but you ignore the pins and needles in favor of doubling your efforts. as much as you'd love to take him to the hilt and watch his soul leave his body, you can't risk the noise. another time, you think. instead, your head bobs faster over his crotch, doe eyes blinking up at him as your tongue swirls around the tip.

your right hand clutches the outside of megumi's clothed calf, nails digging into black denim as the involuntary twitch of his hips threatens to cut off your air supply. he always gets like this right before he comes: his heels flex and his fingers find their way to your scalp and he'll try not to shout, but he never really succeeds and—

"ohhh my god, fuck! fuck, fuck, fuck—!"

you make sure to keep your eyes open for this part. his mouth drops open and his cheeks explode in an almost embarrassingly bright shade of red as he unloads in your mouth. that wild look in his eye is something you'll never tire of. he seems to be floating somewhere halfway between this reality and another. it never fails to make you smile.

your movements slow, but you don't pull off his cock, content to let his long, gentle fingers sweep the hair out of your face. his hand slides down to cup your jaw, thumb rubbing over the swell of your cheek. sweet, is what he is. how're you supposed to resist those flushed cheeks and whispered praises of good, so fucking good, baby, so good f'r me as he comes down from his high?

eventually, megumi's calloused palms come down to the sides of your neck, cradling your head as he guides your perfect mouth off of his softening cock.

his spend drips obscenely from your tongue, fat globs depositing themselves back onto his twitching length. a quiet giggle bubbles up from your throat at the stupefied look on his face. your hand slides all the way up his leg to wrap around the base of his dick. the other finds its way to his shaft, giving a few slow, sensual pumps, spreading his own mess over his length as it squeezes and squelches between your fingers.

you can't help but hold him over your face as you press not-so-innocent kisses to his spent balls, sucking on them one by one as your hand teases at his tip.

megumi's arm shoots out to the side to steady himself from the overstimulated buzz electrocuting the base of his skull, smacking his palm flat against the wall. he groans again, low and drawn out, and you've both fucking forgotten just where exactly you are and—

"'s everything alright, megumi?" tsumiki calls out, voice only a little muffled from the seemingly insignificant panel of wood separating you two from what would be an undoubtedly horrified look on her face.

megumi's eyes shoot open as he chokes on his own breath, mumbled curses spilling from his lips as you watch his system reboot, getting his brain back online. "y-yeah!" he replies, trying his best not to sound like he just ran a marathon. or got his dick sucked.

"you sure? i told you to stop eating random stuff in my fridge— those tuna wraps were old!"

you'd laugh out loud if it wouldn't give you away, so you settle for a teasing quirk of your brow. "bad, bad brother," you mouth, shaking your head in faux disapproval.

he curls his lip at you, peeved that you're part of this conversation at all. "'m fine! just knocked something ov-er!" he squeaks, voice cracking as you pop his tip back in your mouth.

the look he gives you is murderous, but you pay no mind to it as you suckle on his head, eyes fluttering shut, tonguing at the slit.

megumi's head falls back at the sight, his dick giving one last utterly pathetic twitch in the confines of your hot, wet mouth before the door swings open.

"you better not have broken anyth–"

horrified, indeed.

looks like you have something else to feel guilty about.

sorry, tsumiki.

@seiwas + dilly . . . thank u both for being so encouraging & so patient with me during all my writing slumps and breakdowns. i hope you enjoy. 🤍

[dairyofateenagegirl]

billie eilish appreciation post

[shinysobi]

"it was awkward to see colin flirt and behave like a rake" "he gave me the ick" yes ! that is the fucking point!! congratulations! you have the media literacy skills of a fucking monkey because my 4-year old niece could understand it better than you do.

we are supposed to find colin cringey and annoying and get the ick because that is not who he is. he is not anthony, or simon, or even benedict. colin (apart from gregory) is the sweetest of all bridgerton brothers (i'm going by book canon) and his most identifiable character trait is the fact that he values an emotional connection above everything. he runs away to the continent because he wants to feel that emotional connection. he has meaningless sex in brothels because that is the example he has seen growing up, that is the norm. he tries so hard to fit into the norm. he goes out drinking, adopts an entirely new personality, learns flirtations because that is how he thinks he will fit in. he's got armour on, as violet said. he puts everyone's needs above his own, he stops rambling on and boring his family with details of his trip because he knows no one cares. he doesn't talk to anthony or benedict about his heartaches because he knows they still, somewhere in their heart of hearts, view him as the annoying younger brother. he's so devastated by his closest friend not responding to him that he adopts a new personality in the hopes that it might mask the hurt better. he runs after penelope in episode one because he is so attuned to her emotions that he knows she's hurting, and tries to comfort her even when she's spiraling and lashes out. he must have been hurt by her words in the "good night mr bridgerton" scene but he puts it aside to genuinely apologise to her when literally no one else in that family would do that. colin, instead of brooding over his own feelings, goes and corners penelope in her family's garden and apologises to her, disregarding his own hurt at being cruelly dismissed by his close friend.

penelope asking colin to kiss her is not a mark of how "pathetic" she is. she has written and shamed herself in a manner that is almost entirely unsalvageable. she is at her lowest point, and then portia comes in and reminds her of how undesirable she is, and she sinks even lower. she asks colin to kiss her because she sees it as a final act, after which she can quietly wave goodbye to her dreams of ever getting married and leaving her mother's home. colin kisses her because he is also keenly aware of how she's feeling. he knows how hurt she is, he wants to do anything to alleviate that. be it cracking a joke, or kissing her. he is gentle, because he wants it to be something she can dream of when she's by herself. penelope, at this moment, has no hope for herself, and their kiss is an act of letting go for her. no, it's not a pity kiss, no he did not like her after her glow up, he has always loved her. him being struck dumb is a reaction to her physical transformation, nothing more. he does not flirt with her in that ballroom scene, he only approaches her when she's in distress. he's not flirting with her. i can assure you penelope could wear the frumpiest most neon yellow gown of all time and colin would still go "<333 my pen" for her.

colin jumps to catch the balloon's ropes because he sees that penelope is in danger, he does not give a shit about anyone else lmao. he feels temporary relief when he sees eloise run to safety, but the moment he sees penelope in immediate danger, he rushes to take action. afterwards, when he sees that she's being comforted by debling (all my homies hate debling, even if he is aro/ace coded i do NOT claim him) he does not approach her. it would be easy for him to do so, but he does not, because he respects her boundaries. colin bridgerton is the only man in the ton who respects women (the featherington sons-in-laws are too pretty to have a thought) he calls out fife and his friends for treating women like objects and calls them cavalier. the only way he would have been more explicit about his demisexuality was if he tap danced on the club table (entertaining thought, luke newton please)

colin also rapidly takes action, something which no one in the show has done so far. simon would have died instead of accepting his feelings for daphne, daphne would have been content with a loveless marriage forever instead of asking for help. kate would have pushed edwina down the aisle and gone off to india instead of confronting her own feelings, and anthony would have married edwina if she hadn't been brave enough for the three of them to run from the altar and ruin herself. penelope stood on the sidelines for years and loved him quietly because she had no hope of him loving her back. colin, the moment he is assured of his feelings, runs to penelope, almost kisses her in the middle of a ballroom. when he hears that debling is about to propose, he goes to the ball, just to dissuade penelope one more time. he cuts into their dance because he's desperate. when he runs after her carriage, he asks her if she has been proposed to, because he would not have touched her otherwise. he confesses his feelings to her only when he knows that she hasn't gotten engaged to debling, and when she says "but we are friends" he moves away. nothing more. he would have let her go, if she did not return his feelings.

idk whether i should be flattered or offended at people misunderstanding this season because on one hand it is offensive, but on the other hand, it means only smart people get polin. seriously. your minds have been rotted by insta-love and enemies to lovers that you can't even appreciate the innate beauty of friends to lovers. being friends with someone and then holding all those feelings for them. the trepidation of possible rejection. the fulfillment of being loved by the person who knows you the best of them all. the privilege of loving someone whose feelings you know better than your own. love is gentle and kind and yes it is a violent, uprooting force but above all, love does not hurt anyone. it does not hurt you. i could love someone quietly for years and it wouldn't bother me if their feelings were requited or not because my feelings are none of their business and i consider it a privilege to love and be loved by them, even if it is not in the way i would want it to be. polin are privileged in the highest sense. they know each other better than anyone else, they know how to love each other better than anyone else. to think they are rushed or they dont deserve each other is a disservice to both of them. they would be miserable with anyone else.

in other matters, if i see one more person talking smack about luke or nicola behind the safety of their screens i will personally get a bazooka.

[sagesskies]

ʏᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇ ʙᴜʟʟʏ

✒ ᴀ ᴍᴀᴛᴛᴇʀ ᴏꜰ ᴏᴡɴᴇʀꜱʜɪᴘ

☏ - ɪꜱ ᴛʜɪꜱ ɢᴜʏ ᴇᴠᴇɴ ᴀ ʙᴜʟʟʏ??? ʟᴍᴀᴏ… ɪ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ꜰᴇᴇʟ ʟɪᴋᴇ ʜᴇ'ꜱ ᴀɴ ᴀꜱꜱʜᴏʟᴇ……. ɪ'ʟʟ ᴄᴏᴍᴘᴇɴꜱᴀᴛᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ɢᴀʙᴇ ɢᴜʏꜱ ꜰʀꜰʀ

ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇꜱ: ꜱᴇxᴜᴀʟ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ, ɴᴏɴᴄᴏɴ, ʜᴏᴍᴏᴘʜᴏʙɪᴀ, ᴏʙꜱᴇꜱꜱɪᴠᴇ ʙᴇʜᴀᴠɪᴏʀ, ᴘᴏꜱꜱᴇꜱꜱɪᴠᴇ ʙᴇʜᴀᴠɪᴏʀ, ᴅᴇᴘᴇɴᴅᴇɴᴄʏ, ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴꜱ ᴏꜰ ᴠɪᴏʟᴇɴᴄᴇ, ᴇxᴘʟɪᴄɪᴛ ʟᴀɴɢᴜᴀɢᴇ, ꜱᴛᴀʟᴋɪɴɢ (ʙʏ ᴀ ᴛʜɪʀᴅ ᴘᴀʀᴛʏ), ʙᴜʟʟʏɪɴɢ, ᴜꜱᴇ ᴏꜰ ꜱʟᴜʀꜱ, ʀᴀᴘʜᴀᴇʟ ᴄᴀᴍᴇᴏ, ᴀʟꜱᴏ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴡᴀꜱ ɴᴏᴛ ᴘʀᴏᴏꜰʀᴇᴀᴅ, ꜰᴇᴇʟ ꜰʀᴇᴇ ᴛᴏ ꜱʟɪᴅᴇ ɪɴᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴀꜱᴋʙᴏx ᴛᴏ ᴛᴇʟʟ ᴍᴇ ɪꜰ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ᴀʀᴇ ᴀɴʏ ᴍɪꜱᴛᴀᴋᴇꜱ

Yandere Best Friend who was the king of the school, ruling over his subjects with an iron fist. They kissed his feet, and in turn he'd shove them into lockers when he felt grouchy and have them fetch his cigarettes so the teachers wouldn't know they were his. 

Yandere Best Friend who was once your best friend. Your ride or die who would have your back even when he acted like a complete ass sometimes. Sure he was wicked and cruel, but never to you. 

Yandere Best Friend who always kept you close, closer than Harry, closer than Hannah. He would pick you up from your house, he would eat at your table and welcome you to eat at his own. You would spend nights in his room, never on his bed, of course. But he'd take the initiative and set out an inflatable mattress for you, which was more than he'd ever do for the other guys who he'd leave to sleep on the cold hard floor.

Yandere Best Friend who you absolutely despised. Seriously, just the sight of him was enough to ruin your day. This wasn't petty envy– okay, well maybe it was. Just a bit. You hated how your parents blindly adored and praised him (“Why can't you just be more like Richard?”), you hated how you were known first and foremost as his best friend, Richard's cheerful little lapdog. You hated how you spent so much of your life at his beck and call, because what else were you supposed to do? Ignore him? Fuck. Even as kids, that would be social suicide. 

Yandere Best Friend who liked you more than you thought you did. He was always weirdly drawn to you, in the same way a starving dog would be to a rare bone thrown it's way. Hungry, possessive, and greedy. You reasoned it as something like imprinting, you were his first real friend. Not a mindless follower in awe of his assertive charisma. But somebody who he initially perceived as an equal. You say initially, because at this point he sees you less as an equal and more of an extension of himself, like a nice watch he can't bear to take off. 

You only truly discovered how deep this went when he learned you and Harry were sleeping together. 

Really it was Harry's fault. 

You were supposed to go have dinner with Richard's family at their place, a monthly tradition both your parents established when you two were young and have since kept up without fail. But then he yelled for you outside your window, and, well… he was still wet from his shower and you could never resist him when he was wearing his letterman jacket. 

That was when it started, you think. The first little clue in Richard's very own Nancy Drew mystery that has led him to slamming your bedroom door open on a Friday night while your parents are out of town.

“Jesus, ever learned how to knock?” You place a hand to your chest and act shocked, like swinging the door open like a battering ram wasn't a regular occurence. 

Usually Richard would respond with teasing, jokingly apoligzing for startling your poor, weak heart or for attacking your sensitive ears with such a loud noise. You never liked it, but you heard it so much at this point that it stopped bothering you a long time ago. 

“What the fuck is up with you and Harry?” 

‘You and Harry’. Three words you used to be afraid hearing in one go. You still are. Whenever somebody would say, “I saw you and Harry,” you would force a smile on your face and respond with, “Really?” 

But this is a different question. “What is up with you and Harry?” 

Your mind can only come up with one answer as to why Richard asked this question and that alone is to send you into panic mode. 

But you simply raise your brow, “Uh, nothing? Is this about the brownies? Sorry if I gave him extra but you didn't finish your share so if it's anybody's fault it's yours–” 

“This isn't about your shit brownies [Name]—” 

You gasp, once again pressing a hand to your chest, making sure to exaggerate your expression, but not too much, just enough to look convincing, “How dare you! You said you loved them—”

“Well I lied, idiot,” Richard's gaze hardened, he crossed his arms as he stood over you while you sat cross legged on your bed, “And don't change the subject!”

You raise your hands in faux-surrender and try to look like your feelings have been hurt, “I wasn't! You shit talked my brownies– which I'm not gonna forgive by the way— and I just defended them like any normal person would.” 

“So yeah, Richard, we are staying on subject! The subject is simply about my amazing brownies and your crappy taste buds.” 

Richard’s nostrils flare in exasperation. He curses under his breath while he reaches into his jacket and pulls out a polaroid picture which he then shoves at your chest. You look at the picture, and you can't restrain yourself from releasing the ensuing gasp. 

It was you and Harry, in Harry's car at night parked near the lake on the outskirts of town, making out under the cover of darkness. 

“Woah, holy shit– Harry's gay?!” 

“You're making out with him in the picture–” 

“Nahhh, that's not me bro! I was out… fishing with my… great uncle.” 

“Your great uncle died two years ago.”

“Well, I have another great uncle, and he's in tip top shape. Asshole.” 

“You have the same baseball hat you're wearing in that picture.”

“...No I don't.” 

Richard stares at you, then silently points to an identical hat on your bedside table.

“That's not mine. I borrowed it from Steve.” 

“Fucker, I gave you that for your fifteenth birthday.” 

—

Richard always knew something wasn't right with you. 

Listen, he didn't believe in whatever bullshit Father Callahan spewed from his mouth. Gay guys were freaks of nature, sure, but they weren't sent by the devil. 

But you were an exception. Shit, with the way you made him feel maybe you were a little succubus made to take him off the righteous path or whatever. 

Ever since you guys were kids he's always felt this uncontrollable desire to have absolute and complete control over your entire being. Richard doesn't know to describe it as anything other than an almost instinctual impulse, the universe telling him that you were meant to be his when he was still too young to understand. 

Still. He thought that you would have standards. Richard could see the common sense in wanting to bone, whenever he got to get it on with Hannah he was in bliss even if she wasn't you, but for you to choose Harry. The spoiled little wuss Harold Kelly, instead of him? 

He treated you better than the rest, but he had limits. Limits you overstepped. It's only fair that you're going to get punished. 

“Ahaha… uh, are you sure that's me and Harry in that picture…?” 

Richard clicks his tongue. When would you understand that there was no use denying it? 

“That is literally Harry's exact plate number on that car.” 

Your shoulders slump, and Richard feels a mix of dread and satisfaction at the resigned expression on your face. Satisfaction because he won. Dread because his worst fears have been confirmed. 

“Who took the picture?” 

Richard snatches the photo away from you, “Made that little freak Greg Werner stalk you two,” He sneers and takes a step closer, “Bet he got a lot of fap material from that. Scrawny little guy like him, there's no question he's a fag. You would know, wouldn't you? You're just like him after all–” 

“Okay, fine! So what if I am?” You jab your index finger into his chest, his green eyes widening as they focus on it, “What I do in my private time is my business and none of yours. My life is barely even my own, and it's all. Because. Of. You! So don't you fucking dare take what little personal pleasure I have away from me.” 

With each word you speak, Richard's heart aches. It's a sharp, cold pain like a knife is being stabbed into his does. There's a silence when you finish, taut with your resentment and Richard's hesitant regret. He wants to say something, but what could he say? That it wasn't his fault? That he was sorry? That he didn't want you to leave him? He felt like he was watching a beautiful bird he had nursed back to health and kept safe from the dangers of the world start flapping its wings and fly, far, far away from him. 

“Get out, Richard,” You turn away from him, “If you want me to leave your group and fuck off then I'll do so gladly.” 

“No.” Richard grabs your arm. 

“Wha- what do you mean no? Richard let go of me.” 

Richard weighs what is important to him on a scale in his mind. You, or his status. 

You were his best friend. Even if you were starting to slip away, to college, to Harry, out of his sight and out of his life, you were the only person he wanted to keep in his life. The only friend he could see himself going out for drinks with when he was older. 

You were his first love. His only love. The first subject of his shameful adolescent dreams that left him awake at night, sweaty and spent on his bed. Once he had contemplated running away with you, changing names, and living a life free from the close minded small town in the middle of bumfuck nowhere the two of you grew up in. 

But he had a reputation to maintain. A father who he had to satisfy with the standard accomplishments a father would expect of his son. He had a girlfriend whose father was the town's mayor. A town whose watchful eyes praised him as a good, upstanding young man who was destined for greatness. A star athlete who was going to play in the big leagues and finally place the town on the map. 

In the grand scheme of things, you were just another teenager in his shadow. 

You were destined to be remembered in history as merely another name in his autobiography. Richard Shepherd's childhood best friend. 

However Richard's stomach curled at the thought of that. You and him, separated. No longer within the same circle, but in different worlds entirely. 

The scales tip in your favour.

—

What happens next is a blur. You're shoved into the mattress of your bed and pinned down. You try to escape and Richard cows you into submission with a punch to the gut that nearly has you hurling from the force.

Your clothes are ripped from your skin, your protests go unheard, your body is a tool. Richard too has stripped himself, he spreads your legs. He grabs you by the chin when you close you try to look away, “Unless you want this to hurt more you're going to look at me when I do this.” 

So you look, and you cry, and you weep as you feel his cock invade you. It's not a dry insertion, but God it still hurts. Richard gasps when he sheathes himself fully inside, his eyes are blown wide and his mouth hangs open like he's seeing stars. His fingers dig into your waist, and he bites his lip, his face tells it all and even in this position you can't help but smirk. Feels better than Hannah's, doesn't it Richard? 

That's the last thought you remember having before Richard goes wild. 

You do it on your bed, against your desk, pressed against the cool surface of your window. Richard cums multiple times inside you, he even cries at one point, screaming words you can barely remember in your fucked out state as tears streamed down his cheeks. 

Richard makes you scream his name as he moans out yours. He asks if Harry kissed you before and when you're too tired to respond he slams his lips into yours and practically eats away at your mouth. 

Eventually he finishes, pulling out of your worn out hole, with a wet plap. Your body shudders as you release a long, shaky breath. 

“You’ve ruined me,” Richard pants, his blonde hair is sticking up, he’s covered in a light sheen of sweat, and his green eyes are blown wide open as he tries to compose himself, “I… I can’t- Hannah could never…” 

He stares at you as you lie below him, equally sweaty, your neck and shoulders are littered with hickeys and bite marks, and you’re on the verge of passing out. The rims of your eyes are red, and your face is moist with tears. Your lip is swollen from Richard’s teeth digging into them, nearly tearing them off in his fervour. 

You look like you’re about to die. 

He looks more alive than he ever has before. 

Richard looks like he wants to do it again. 

Yet his eyes are filled with fear, and you want to laugh, but your throat is crying out in pain.

“You’ve ruined me.”

Yandere Best friend Bully who keeps you on a shorter leash now. He doesn't do anything in public. Okay, that's a lie. But he makes sure he doesn't get caught. And despite being the classic stereotype of a small town jock, complete with his hot cheerleader girlfriend and powerful inner circle, he's not an idiot. He doesn't do anything to out you, or even leave any hints to your sexuality. He doesn't even tell Harry he knows. No, this is his little secret. Your little secret. Just like the old days when the two of you had a secret fort deep in the woods behind his father's farm. 

Yandere Bully who knows he can't keep you around his group, even to be the new punching bag. The guys would be too grossed and the girls.. well he didn't really care what they thought actually. Same went for the guys, to be honest. What mattered was the words they would say that would be whispered and spread like wildfire around the school. 

Richard likes keeping the school homo around

Really? 

Really! 

You think he fucks the fag? 

Why else? I don't see any bruises on the fucker’s face 

Yandere Bully who can't bring himself to hurt you. Is he disappointed? Yes. Is he furious? Yes. Does he want to beat somebody’s head in till the anger goes away? Oh, no doubt. But if he were to ever hit your handsome face then he'd hit himself over the head with a brick a hundred times over. 

Yandere Bully who resorts to being rough. He uses you like you're a lowly hooker, here to give him happiness and send him flying high to heaven with pleasure. He pins your wrists above your head. He smacks your ass. Digs his nails into your solid muscle till you bleed. He litters your skin with harsh, red bitemarks. 

You would cover it all up the next day by saying you spent the night with a girl. You never say, you never do, so nobody questions who. He used to be jealous, resentful of whatever bitch was able to lay her needy hands on you, but now he only smirks at the sight of the miserable pout on Harry's face. 

Yandere Bully who doesn't spare Harry either. Bumping into him in the hallways. Stomping on his foot during football practice. Flirting with his girlfriend by the lockers, a smirk on his face while his eyes are on Harry, quietly fuming while his girlfriend giggles and twirls her hair bashfully. His humiliation of Harry is what makes the other guys join in. They jeer at him, mock him by asking if he liked getting cucked, and start slowly respecting him less. That is, till you step in of course.

Yandere Bully who ignores the bitter complaints of the other guys, angered by the humiliation they suffer at your hands, and watches as resentment stews inside him as you scold Harry, hands brushing a stray chestnut lock away from his eyes while he smiles sheepishly, his ears burning red after being graced with your touch after so long of being deprived of it. The two of you looked natural, you looked happy, really happy. Real happy, with a real smile to boot.

Yandere Bully who sometimes wonders, during nights when he has you in his arms, your back facing him as you avoid his intense gaze by placing yourself in front of the wall, what exactly your feelings for Harry entail. Did you just want to fuck or did you like Harry the same way Hannah liked Richard? 

Yandere Bully who sometimes wonders what he feels for you. He likes you, more than Harry, and certainly more than Hannah. But sometimes he wonders what's the difference between liking somebody and desiring them. 

One day he looks at you the morning after a raunchy night in your bed and the sun pours in from your window, your brows furrow and a frown forms on your face. You bury your head in your pillow, and Richard decides that whatever he felt for you was completely beyond his comprehension. 

Yandere Bully who should have known that Harry would start poking his nose eventually. He couldn't understand what you wanted from Harry, but he knew that he and Harry wanted the same thing from you: You in your unsullied entirety. 

Yandere Bully who one day finds you alone in a room with Harry. He looks through a small gap in the doorway, and Harry is on his knees, drying your leg with a towel. The group was staying at Harry’s lakeside cabin during the summer, and you had all come back from swimming in the lake. Harry looks up at you from beneath his eyelashes, a seemingly innocent smile on his face while you narrow your eyes at him, a smirk curling at your lips. 

Richard does a sharp intake of breath at your laugh, floating through the air like a gentle, silvery breeze. Your head rests on your hand while the other plays with Harry's damp hair, “Jesus christ, it was freezing though,” You shudder at the memory of it, “I felt like I was gonna turn into a popsicle.” 

Harry giggles, fucker actually giggled, “Bet you'd be a hot popsicle though.” 

“What the hell— A hot popsicle? You mean sexy?” At Harry's shy nod, you throw your head back and laugh, “So what, you're gonna drag your tongue over me and lick every inch of my body?” 

Harry's ears start to burn red, “Well… I wouldn't… I wouldn't mind doing it even if… you aren't a popsicle…” 

Before you can even respond, Richard swings the door wide open and the two of you snap to attention, Harry jolts and quickly scrambles to his feet and you practically leap off of the bed.

“Richard! Buddy! Pal! Amigo!” Harry exclaims, “What're you doing there at the door? Come in, come in! We were just talking about… uh—” 

“The temperature,” You supply seamlessly with a firm nod, “I think my balls froze off in the lake man, they're numb as hell.” 

Harry gapes at you for a moment before shaking his head with fervour and then nodding with the same amount of intensity, “Yep! How about we go on a walk after lunch? Absorb some good ol’ vitamin D, whaddya say Richard?” 

Richard narrows his gaze at the two of you, his eyes flickering to Harry who beams like an idiot dog, then to you who sports a similar ‘ignorant’ smile. 

“Bring it up with the others,” Richard mutters in gruff tone, “[Name] go tell them to start making lunch, Harry stay behind would you? I have to talk to you about something.”

“About what?”

“Football.” 

“Ah, okie doke!” Harry smiles, not a single thought behind his blue eyes, “Seeya later [Name]!” 

You hesitate for a moment, chewing your lip in thought, but a sharp glare from Richard is enough to have you roll your eyes and head out, “Don't take too long unless you wanna be eating our leftovers.” 

“So is it about the upcoming game? The Bears have got nothing on us man, don't you sweat–” 

“Harry, you buffoon, that was obviously just a guise,” Richard closes the door shut, “I want you to stay away from [Name].” 

“Huh? Why?” Harry cocks his head to the side, “Is something wrong? Did [Name] do something?”

“It doesn't matter,” Richard waves his hand like he's swatting flies away, “I don't want you anywhere near him. Not even within an inch.”

“You can't just do that Richard,” Harry protests, but Richard is already turning away from him. 

“I can,” Richard narrows his eyes at him, green against blue, “And I will.” 

Before his fingers can even brush the metal of the doorknob, Harry grabs Richard's shoulder and spins him around, “No, Richard, you can't.”

There's an unusually serious expression on Harry's face that Richard never thought he'd see till Harry would reach his thirties, that is, if they were to even remain in touch. 

Harry was a coward, plain and simple. He cried like a bitch when he watched scary movies, he was deathly afraid of the dark, once on a previous trip to the Cabin there was a spider in the bedroom and he simply stood on the couch pointing and screaming at the insect as his own girlfriend was the one who took it outside using a glass cup and a piece of paper. 

When they first met, it took only three minutes for Richard to cement himself in Harry's mind as a person to listen to, to respect, and obey. And it was something that wouldn't change, till just now that is. 

“I know you've been doing something to [Name],” Harry stares him down, for the first time in his life it truly registers in Richard just how tall Harry is as he stands nearly half a head above him, “And whatever it is, I want you to stop.”

Richard sneers, “Look at you. Harold Kelly. The town pushover finally grew some balls, huh?” He shoves Harry away, “But if you think I'm going to listen to you just because of that then you really are as big of an idiot as everybody says you are.” 

Harry shakes his head, “You're hurting him, you know?” He meets Richard's piercing gaze without flinching, “You keep pushing him like this and he's going to snap eventually.” 

“Why do you care? What is he, your little girlfriend? That why you didn't bother stepping up when your girlfriend had her mitts all over me?” 

“He's my friend Richard, and friends care for each other,” Harry frowns, a disappointed look in his eyes that makes Richard want to sock him across the face (Who is he to look at him like that?), “You'd know that if you weren't so selfish.” 

“What are you trying to say to me Harry?” Richard takes another step forward, smirking when Harry instinctively backs away, “If you're saying I don't care about [Name] then you're dead wrong, because nobody will ever care for him in his life as I will, not even you Harry. You wanna know why? Because you don't understand him, nobody does. Nobody except me, and that's why even if you two are flirting and going at each other like the little fairies you two are, the only person who will stay in his life forever is me.”

“You know?” Harry's voice is quiet, whatever bravery he mustered up is gone and he's back to the wuss Richard pushes around in his free time. 

“Of course I do, nobody knows him better than I do after all, this is no exception.” 

Harry's mouth hangs open slightly, and Richard snickers at the expression, smirking at his undeniable triumph over the other, “I won't say it again Harry, leave [Name] alone. If you don't, I'll tell the school you've been raping him.” 

The threat makes Harry flinch, “No… you wouldn't.” 

“You know better than to think that Harry.” 

“E-even if you did, nobody would believe you!” 

“Harry people have seen [Name] with your hickeys and bite marks, it wouldn't be so hard to convince them you're gay and Lucy is just your beard. Besides,” Richard drawls in a sing-song tone, “I have pictures~” 

Harry's visage is consumed by an expression of defeat and hopelessness, “This is wrong Richard, you're ruining his life.” 

“Please, if anything the only reason he has this life is because of me,” Richard scoffs, ignoring the twinge in his chest at Harry's words, “Now, if you'll excuse me.” 

Without waiting for a response, Richard enters the dining room, and takes a seat beside Hannah and across you. 

“What took you so long?” Hannah looks up from her plate, a bored look in her eyes. 

Richard peck's her on the forehead, lips stiff, “Harry and I were talking about football.” 

“Geez,” Hannah rolls her eyes, “All boys talk about is sports and cars, tsk.” 

“Don't forget the girls,” Peter jokes. 

Hannah wrinkles her nose, “Eugh.” 

You send him a narrowed glance, a silent question hung in the air between the two of you. What happened? 

Richard merely smirks, it widens at Harry's arrival. You look at Harry hopefully, only to visibly deflate when he sits beside Lucy at the other end of the table. 

You turn to Richard again, eyes hardened, “What did you say?” You mouth. 

Richard shrugs. You curse under your breath. 

Yandere Bully who you can't stand anymore. At this point, could your life really be called your own? Richard always had his eye on you, day and night. He would spend his entire day with you. Even staying behind after practice to shower with you. He would eat at your table during dinner and stay over the night, you would be caged in your own bed, struggling to sleep while his hot breath fanned against your neck. 

Fuck. Even Tommy would send you pitying glances when you would visit his house. Tommy! The kid you would pin down while Richard tore up his drawings in front of him. 

The last straw is Harry. Lovable, cowardly, foolish Harry. Harry who avoids your gaze and practically flees when you enter his vicinity. Harry who tells you that he can’t see you anymore. That he shouldn't. That what the two of you are doing is wrong, it always has been. 

You can't take this anymore. You have to get away. From the school. From the town. From Richard fucking Shepherd. You could tolerate it, barely but you could tolerate it. But then Harry broke your heart and suddenly you don't have a reason to tolerate what Richard is doing to you anymore. 

Yandere Bully who expects to be offered full-ride scholarships to ivy-league colleges, but when scouts arrive they ignore him in favour of team players like Harry. You know this because the same night after Harry proudly announces he got a scholarship to the University of Michigan, he fucks you in the backseat of his car without a single shred of mercy, cursing under his breath the entire time. Talk about envy. 

Yandere Bully whose expression can only be described as devastated when you break the news over dinner that a college in the city has accepted you, over his parents congratulating you and your parents tearful smiles, he looks like he's about to cry and scream at you all at once.

Yandere Bully who that night, in the barn on top the stacks of hay, when he thinks you've passed out he hugs you, actually hugs you, as sobs rack through his frame. He begs you not to leave him, and you feel almost guilty for not opening your eyes and assuring him that you won't. But you don't, because even you're not so cruel as to give him such an empty promise. 

Yandere Bully who never sees you again after graduation. He tries to get you to stay, he even threatens releasing the pictures, but your only response is a shrug. 

“Will you miss me?” 

You scoff, “Will I miss you? Richard, there's nothing to miss. If anything, I should be asking you that question.” 

“What's that supposed to mean?” 

“I think you know exactly what it means.” 

“Enlighten me then.”

“You love me.” 

“You're delusional.”

“Wow, look at the pot calling the kettle black,” You chuckle. 

“I'm not gay [Name].” 

“Then why were you so mad about Harry then?’ 

“Because he was a fag.” 

"Well, I'm a fag too, but you certainly treat me better than you ever treated Harry.” 

“That's because you're different.” 

“I'm special.” 

“Whatever you wanna call it.” 

“I'm special… because you love me.” 

“I don't love you.” 

“But will you miss me?” 

“You're going to come back.” 

“And how are you so sure?” 

“Because I said so.” 

You smile, “Don't count on it, Richard.”

Yandere Bully who breaks up with Hannah eventually, after she catches him cheating on her with a relative of yours who was staying in town. What can he say? She had your eyes. 

Yandere Bully who only has the old baseball hat he gave you for your birthday to remember you by. It's either you forgot to pack it or you left it behind on purpose. Even if it hurts, he prefers the latter. At least it meant he mattered to you in some way, even if it's in a negative light. He always wears the hat, even if Raph teases him for it, all he has to do is knock the little shit in the head and he shuts his mouth about Richard's fashion choices.

Yandere Bully who writes letters he never sends, words written in a rough scrawl confessing truths he was too afraid to admit, that he's still afraid to admit to this day. 

[Name]

Sunflower gave birth today, a colt with a coat the colour of chocolate. We named it London. I think dad has been thinking of going there, but I don't think he ever will. 

Have you gone to London? I hope you haven't. We wanted to go there together, didn't we? You wanted to meet Harry Potter and I wanted to… well I didn't want to do anything there. I think I didn't mind where I was, I just wanted to be with you. 

I wish you came back. I wish you never left. I wish you stayed with me in this shitty town and worked with me in my family's shitty farm. I know it's cruel, and I know you don't deserve it, but neither do I okay? I deserved a life with you and it's unfair that you got to leave and I'm still trapped here

Sunflower misses you, I think she got more sad when you left and hasn't changed since. She keeps whinnying like she's calling out for you and it bothers all the other horses because they can't sleep, and when they can't sleep then I can't sleep, and you know I fucking hate it when I can't sleep so could you just come back and spare me further trouble? 

I got rid of the pictures. You don't have to worry about anything. I just need you back here. So I can sleep. 

Richard 

☏ - ᴠᴏɪᴄᴇᴍᴀɪʟ: ᴍʀ. ꜱᴀɢᴇ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛᴏ ʀᴇᴍɪɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʟʟ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛꜱ ᴀʀᴇ ᴏᴘᴇɴ, ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ'ᴅ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛᴏ ꜱᴇᴇ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛʜɪꜱ.